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Craig hates parties.
But Kenny wanted to go, and Kenny always gets what he wants.
They’re laid out on the floor of Tolkien’s living room. Lights dim, music high. And in the vee of Craig’s legs is where Kenny sits, soft and warm and sweet like citrus. He’s making all these noises, too, little mhms and uh-huhs as Stan reads shit off his phone.
It’s fine for the most part. Marsh is easy enough to tune out, no problems there.
The problem is that Kenny keeps fucking squirming.
And Craig is trying to be good. He is. But he can’t keep his eyes off of Kenny’s thighs, or all that tan, freckled skin exposed by the track shorts he’s got on. They’re red and stretchy, white around the edges, riding up Kenny’s ass because of how small they are.
It’s a pickle—a hard one. So when Stan pivots to Kyle, Craig decides to go for it. Hands all over Kenny’s tiny waist, skirting the line between fabric and skin, affection and lust. He can see that mole he likes. Dark and sexy, pressed against Kenny’s thigh like a kiss.
“See somethin’ you like?”
“No.” Craig teases close enough to touch, but doesn’t. “What gave you that idea?”
“That’s too bad. If you had, I might’ve let you sneak me away.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
Lips skate across Craig’s wrist—kiss. “Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy?”
“No. I want to show you something.”
“I bet you do. S’that why you’re groping me?”
“Maybe.” Craig kneads the fat of Kenny’s thigh. “Let’s go find out in my car.”
“Mmm, no. I wanna see what truth you get.”
“We’ll come back before then.”
“Like hell we will. You always say that, and guess what? We never do.”
“What if I promised?”
That makes Kenny laugh, but the sound trails when Tweek rejoins the circle. He’s out of breath, hair wet, eyes wild. All signs of Tolkien’s signature dare: go take a dip. Craig wasn’t paying attention, though. Hasn’t been. He’s only had eyes for Kenny tonight. Craig looks him over again, hands slipping out of warm thighs and sweeping along Kenny’s throat. He nuzzles his cheek, kisses the side of his face. It’s cute, the way K—
“Craig. Truth? Or dare?”
A sideways glance. The smirk tugging at Tweek’s chapped lips spells danger almost as much as his hands, which are calm on either side of him. If that was typical behavior, Craig wouldn’t hesitate. He’d play it safe—pick truth like always. But it’s not. Right now, Tweek has an ace, and Craig’s never been all that good of a sport to begin with.
So, “Dare.”
The room stops.
Most everyone who stuck around is drunk or high or both, sprawled across the floor in disarray, but that word alone sends a pulse through them. Even Butters looks more alive now—the haze in his eyes missing, the roach between his fingers burning to ash.
And maybe, this is Craig’s first mistake.
“Okay.” Tweek is distracted, or playing at it, using all of his concentration to trace the lines in his palms. Once, twice, again. “Okay, uh… Oh. No, yeah, I think I’ve g—I’ve got it, man.” Deceit stains the words in his mouth, and even Kenny must feel it, because he squeezes Craig’s knee, hard. “I want you to—no. I dare you to, um…” Tweek looks at Kenny. Back up at Craig. “Eat him out. Kenny, eat Kenny out, I mean. Here. Right here.”
Kenny jerks. Slams his head into Craig’s chin. He’s got both hands up like he’d be jumped if they weren’t, and that’s what makes Craig move—the need to keep him safe.
“Run that by me again,” he says. “No, really. Say it again.”
It’s Tweek’s turn to grin, head cocked to one side. His posture is perfect, shoulders a straight line, and the sheer audacity clenches Craig’s fists. Flays his chest wide open.
“That’s pretty fucked.” Craig’s voice grates, rubs the room wrong. “Pretty fucking low.” His lips twitch up in a half-smile. “Why don’t you show us what’s in your pants, Tweek?”
Color drips out of Tweek’s face, but Craig doesn’t care. He’s more worried about Kenny, who’s pulling his legs in like he’s the problem. Like it was something he did.
And it breaks Craig in two. No one gets to embarrass his boyfriend.
“But you’re in luck,” he says. “I won’t beat the shit out of you.” Craig kisses Kenny’s temple and draws him into his arms. Spares a glance for the circle that’s gone quiet. “Or any other asshole who thought it’d be fucking funny. Because we’re done here.”
“He’s serious, dude,” mumbles Stan, hands spread. “It’s not a joke.”
“What?” Kenny, who’s half hidden by Craig’s bicep, squints at him. “The hell do you mean ‘it’s not’? No one else got a dare like that. So why Craig? ‘Cause his tranny boyfriend has a pussy?”
“No. It has nothing to do with that.”
It’s Tolkien this time, leaning over the back of a lone, ladder-back chair that he dragged in hours ago. Clyde and Jimmy are at his feet, heads down, cheeks flushed.
“Why would it? We would’ve set this up either w—”
He doesn’t finish that sentence. Not with Craig’s glare fixed on him.
“I wasn’t being a dick, man! I swear! When have I ever? Well, okay. But!” Tweek twists his hair between scarred fingers, biting his lip raw. “Not for this. And it’s not like—he doesn’t have to! I just—we just—I don’t know. But it’s not like that. Like whatever y—!”
“Enough,” Craig spits. “All of you. Shut up.”
The silence is abrupt. Even Kyle, of all people, has gone docile.
Craig shifts his focus back to Kenny, then pauses. His brows are creased now, his lower lip caught between his teeth, and it’s cute. Familiar, too. It’s a face that’s torn between want and regret—the same one he wears when he bends over in dark, dirty alleyways. Craig sighs and cups Kenny’s cheek. He knows where this goes. He knows what gets Kenny off. And when sweet little fuck me eyes roll up to his, he knows how fun it’ll be.
But still. “Want me to fuck them up?”
Kenny blinks, lips parting on a laugh. “All of them? Really think you could?”
“Yeah. Only Stan and Tweek are remotely sober. Clyde won’t fight. Tolkien, either.” A light flick of Craig’s shoulders. “Cartman passed out forever ago. He’s still waking up.”
“Forget it.” Kenny shrugs. “No need to defend my honor. S’just a dare. And, I mean…”
His voice trails, thighs squishing together like he’ll die without a head between them. Craig doesn’t waver at all. Only reaches down and snaps the band of Kenny’s shorts.
“You want it, honey?”
Kenny’s eyes drop. His cheek rolls between his teeth.
“Don’t give me that,” Craig says. He then grabs Kenny’s chin as well as his thigh, digging in and leaving rosy half-moons. “Want me to eat you, princess? Right here?”
“Dunno,” is Kenny’s faint reply. But he’s lying, legs beginning to spread.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The rules are simple. One: shut up. Two: look all you want, but don’t fucking touch.
They’re on the couch now, Kenny on his back and Craig all over him. Teeth scraping down his throat, hips between his thighs, hands braced beside his head. This whole thing is nuts. Makes Kenny’s blood rush, makes his pussy pulse. But baring his neck comes easy; so does writhing and clawing at Craig’s shoulders like a dirty little whore.
Until his skin prickles. Again.
He’s angled in such a way that he can’t see out into the room, but he doesn’t need to. Their eyes are hungry. Relentless. And it’s one thing to tease or show off or even bait Craig into fucking him. It’s another to spread his legs for his friends. For them to ask.
“You’re stiff again, honey,” Craig murmurs, his hard bites fizzling out for soft kisses. “Want to stop? Go home?” He props himself up. “We can leave. Right now if you want.”
“Nuh-uh, it’s fine. Was just thinking.”
“I thought I smelled smoke.”
“Fuck you.” Kenny pulls on Craig’s hair, grinning up at him. “S’just a little weird. And I kinda don’t get it? Like. All of them? Is that not fucking crazy? You know what I mean?”
“Oh, angel. You really don’t know?”
“Babe, if you have another idea that isn’t revenge porn, I’m all fuckin—”
Thick, veiny hands slide past Kenny’s shirt, grip either side of his waist, and pull. Rolling him down till their hips meet, clit throbbing under the weight of Craig’s bulge. So big. So hard. Spreading his swollen folds, forcing even more slick out of his hole. And when Kenny looks at him, at Craig and the dizzy lust in his eyes, the room fades.
“That’s what it feels like,” Craig says as he leans in, “to look at you.” Warm knuckles glide across Kenny’s skin, tracing their way up to the underside of his chest. “Do you have any idea”—Craig’s palms flip over and cup his tits—“how fucking pretty you are?”
“No,” Kenny mutters, the sides of his lips tugging up. “Can’t say I do.” He’s lying, fishing for praise, breath hitching when callused thumbs roll his nipples. “And I don’t wanna feel left out, so.” Craig pinches. Kenny gasps. “Why don’t you show me, baby?”
“Spoiled brat.”
“And you love me anyway.”
Craig rolls his eyes, but his hands listen. Rough fingers tell all, toying with Kenny’s heart-shaped piercings till that smug grin falls off his face, gives way to bitten lips.
Kenny’s moaning now, jerking his hips against Craig’s straining cock. He wants him to get on with it, do something, eat him, fuck him, but all he gets is a kiss. Slow and sloppy, Craig’s tongue dipping in and out of his mouth. And that’s fine, so fine, so long as he keeps making noises like that. Like they’re fucking instead of swapping spit.
Kenny likes to kiss.
And he loves the metal ball pierced through Craig’s tongue.
It never stops being hot. Not ever. Especially when Craig loses his cool, which isn’t often. But look at him now—how far gone he is. Hard as fuck against Kenny’s cunt, grinding and gasping like he hasn’t noticed the click of his stud between their teeth. It’s desperation, a neon sign of it. So as Craig’s hands edge away from Kenny’s tits to trail down his sternum, then his stomach, he stays silent. He loves this version of him.
Craig is always at his lowest when he can’t keep his hands off Kenny’s pussy.
“C’mon, hotshot.” Kenny puts his arms above his head. “Show me how I make you feel.”
It doesn’t matter when, where, or how; that first, lingering touch is the best there is. Soft, sweet, warm. It’s different like this, though—stretched to the brink and then some. Because his thighs are already spread wide and Craig is still trying to force space where there just isn’t any, but oh well. He’s been itching for Craig’s fingers all day, the way they’d slip and slide through his folds, rub circles around his clit like they are now.
And yeah. Kenny never thought it would happen here of all places, where everyone they know and love could watch, but that’s okay. Fuck, baby, that’s more than okay.
“God, fuck,” Kenny rasps, head hitting the couch, hips up, “feels so fuckin’ good.”
“Yeah, honey?” Craig’s voice is like smoke: wispy, fleeting. “That hit the spot?”
He thinks he nods. He tries to. But when they’re skin to skin, it doesn’t matter. Craig always knows. And his mouth is so sloppy once he crowds Kenny’s throat, trailing down with metal and teeth. Kissing, biting. It shouldn’t feel this good when they’ve only just started, shouldn’t make his hips swivel while his pussy is merely toyed with, but it does, and they do. That’s a realization that comes in the form of Tweek. He’s tucked against the back of the couch, looking real cozy, like he’s been there a while. One hand on his cheek, dark eyes skipping along what he can see of Kenny’s figure.
“Holy shit. Jesus fuck. You close enough? Or—” Kenny swallows a high sound. Craig’s stroking his clit and it’s hard to think. “Or d’ya needa put your fingers in me, too? Shit.”
“Is that something you want? From me? I woul—”
“You’re not stupid, Tweek. He means fuck off.” Craig lifts his head with a sneer. “Or did you not hear me when I said don’t fucking touch him?” His attention pivots back to Kenny, one finger petting his hole, circling it. “Ignore him, baby. I’ve got you. Just me.”
Easier said than done. Tweek’s expression is visceral, demanding. There’s this weird vacancy in his eyes, too, something dangerous that raises the hair on Kenny’s skin. He had no idea Tweek could look so intense. Powerful. And the smile he wears now is just as fierce, a flash of teeth that could—and would—tear right into him given the chance. Kenny squirms and looks away, cute panties getting wet in spite of Craig’s idle fingers.
“If you don’t want this to be over, I suggest you sit the fuck down.”
“I don’t know.” The couch creaks when Tweek relents. “I think he liked it.” He reaches for Kenny despite the hissed instructions, stroking along his jaw in a very odd way. Controlling, maybe. Kenny’s not sure. “Mm? It made you feel all warm. Good. Didn’t it?”
“Don’t answer that,” Craig says, teeth gritted. “And you, hands off.”
“Then can I at least get off on this? Is that fair?”
Someone laughs, sounds like Butters, but it’s ignored otherwise.
“Check him.” Tweek shrugs, now brushing hair out of Kenny’s face. “See for yourself.”
Craig’s fingers twitch against Kenny’s pussy, but they don’t dip in, don’t look for an answer. And it’s honestly kind of hot, the way they talk about him like he’s not even here. Pinch and prod at his skin as if he’s nothing but a piece of ass to be played with.
“Why? He’s already soaked the couch. Because of me, mind you.”
Tweek opens his mouth, but Tolkien speaks first. “Knock it off.” Flat, strict. “Now.”
And thank fuck for that, because their shitty pissing contest only made his pussy even sloppier, needier—a relentless throb between his legs. Craig scoffs and drops his eyes.
But the second Tweek is out of sight, something changes in Craig. His blank demeanor takes a turn, as does the hand cupping Kenny’s cunt. Kenny should be scared, maybe. He isn’t. Not of Craig, never, and not of those slow, measured circles around his hole, either. Two fingers dip inside, push and pull until they’re coming away wet. Soaked.
“If I didn’t know better”—Craig leans down and presses his mouth to Kenny’s ear—“I would think this was your idea.” A smile, a twitch of lips Kenny feels more than he sees. “You love this. You love knowing that everyone here would kill to be where I am.”
“Maybe.” Kenny flirts with the hair at the nape of Craig’s neck, then sweeps over his cheeks and draws him back into view. “But I think…” Kenny’s voice lilts, dripping off his tongue while he strokes Craig’s lips. “You’re just as guilty as me, honey bunches.”
Craig sucks Kenny’s thumb into his mouth. Licks him up with slow, broad strokes. It doesn’t do anything except highlight his piercing, which is hot as hell and unfair as fuck, but that’s fine. Kenny won’t push. No, he’ll pull. His thumb hooks around Craig’s bottom teeth and tugs, dragging him down till he takes the hint and gives him a kiss.
It’s slow, filthy. Kenny fists Craig’s shirt, his hair. Nibbles so sweet on his lips because he wants more—always does, wants to lean in and swallow him—but Craig jerks away.
His chin is spitty, and his breath is heavy. “Ready?”
“Mm-mn.” Kenny shakes his head. “Nuh-uh, no. Wanna kiss.” His hand slips between them, reaching down to palm Craig through his jeans. “Lemme touch you, baby, c’m—”
“No.” But it’s strained, weak around the edges. “This isn’t about me.”
“You need it. You’re so fuckin’ hard.” There’s a wet breath, a low moan, and Kenny’s hands grope Craig’s bulge, squeezing, failing every pass at that stupid fucking zipper. “Wanna suck you off, want you in my mouth so fuckin’ bad. Jus’ for a little while, ple—”
Head bowed, hips shaking, Craig takes his hand out of Kenny’s shorts. “Not right now.”
“Mmh? Oh, I get it. You need more?” Kenny’s lips skate over Craig’s jaw and slide down his throat. “Wanna be inside me? Get your dick wet? Go for it. You’d slide right in.” He drops his hand, wanting nothing but the way Craig’s hips stutter. “Shhh, easy. M’here.”
“Fuck,” Craig rasps. He’s wavering, digging slick fingers into Kenny’s skin.
“Don’t think anybody minds, baby boy.”
Kenny tugs his shorts down to mid-thighs. Then he’s back to teasing Craig’s clothed cock, kneading and purring, kissing all over his face. Craig’s putty in his hands—cute.
“You know, bouncin’ me on your cock, spreadin’ me out on the couch. Whatever you want, baby, whatever you like, ‘cause they’ll love it. Trust me. They’ll eat it riiight up.”
And they would, he’s sure.
With Craig hunched over like this, Kenny can see them.
For the most part, everything’s the same. Tolkien’s still casual as ever, sans the generous hard-on between him and his chair. Kyle hasn’t moved an inch, and he probably won’t. Even Jimmy is—catching his gaze and running from it. Cute. So sweet, like the awe in Clyde’s eyes that look so much like Craig’s when Kenny sits on his face. The only real difference is Cartman, Butters, and the blanket they’re jacking off under.
Or maybe Stan is, who’s white-knuckling his jeans beside the couch. Or even Tweek, who’s hovering behind him with the same look as before. Feverish, eyes full of intent.
Craig crushes Kenny’s cheeks with one hand, smearing the musk of wet pussy.
“Eyes on me. Nowhere else.”
“Then gimme somethin’ to look at, sweetheart.”
Craig smiles. Grins, really—flashes his teeth.
Then he’s shoving Kenny’s shirt up, exposing freckled tits for him to lick and play with. Kenny arches, curves beneath Craig’s tongue, hips jerking when a bite draws blood. Heat streaks his chest in spotty swirls until it surrounds his nipples in the shape of Craig’s mouth. And it probably shouldn’t feel like love when a kiss as red as his shorts stains the dip of his stomach, but it does—warm and sweet, bubbling up like soda pop.
Kenny’s shorts are pulled off and thrown aside, but his panties stay right where they are. Tangled by Craig’s hand, too wet and sticky to be drawn from his leaking pussy.
Kenny bends his knees then hugs his thighs. “Gonna fill me up, baby? Fuck me open?”
“Brats,” Craig says, sinking to the floor, “can squirt on my fingers, or not at all.”
“M’not bein’ a brat.”
“No? Then what was that before?”
“Oh. Sorry, babe. Didn’t know you were a born-again Christian.”
“Catholic. And you’re pouting.”
“Got somethin’ against my face now?”
“Never. Now pick your legs up.”
“I am,” Kenny huffs, burying his face in the couch, “and I mean it.”
Craig hooks his thumbs around Kenny’s cunt to spread him. “Two things can be true.”
Kenny squirms. Huffs again. His panties are wedged between his folds, sticky wet and ruined, but he likes it. It feels good. Warm. He’s swollen and so soft, pretty pink and dripping for all their friends to watch. Kenny likes that, too. And he knows Craig knows because he’s closest when his hole flutters—clenches tight. It’s why he scoffs when he pinches Kenny’s thigh, why he leans in and kisses all over white lace. Chaste at first, then heavy, rushed, full of tongue. Like Craig had wanted to tease but couldn’t bear to.
Kenny stifles a gasp by biting the cushion. Spreads his legs ‘cause he wants to watch.
Craig’s hair is in his face, his bangs a mess, his septum twisted sideways. And there’s still a bit of blood around his lips, staining his olive skin, but it matches his cheeks. Looks good. Dotted with moles and stubble, Craig’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
“M’looking,” Kenny whispers, gut ablaze with Craig’s mouth on him. “At you. Only you.”
Something fond burns in Craig’s eyes, even while he shreds through Kenny’s panties. And then it’s better, so much better. Craig is warm and relentless, huffing against Kenny’s cunt with eager glides of tongue, fucking him open with the means to break.
“Fuck, dude, that was hot.”
“Craig’s a beast, man, I told you.”
“Mm, yeah. Yeah, but—shut up. I wanna hear him. Wanna hear Kenny.”
“Me too. God, fatass, could you be any fucking louder?”
Stan, Clyde, Tweek, Kyle. And it’s not just them, either. But it doesn’t matter. Any remnants Kenny could have caught are already lost on him. Gone, so fucking gone.
He’s too hung up on Craig’s tongue and how sloppy it is, how it’s fucked in and out of him with no technique. It’s hot because it shouldn’t be. It’s divine because Craig only ever goes at his pace. No more, no less. Even if Kenny’s riding him into the mattress, kissing him hard and grabbing him by the throat, Craig’s the one with the upper hand.
But right now? That whine coming from in-between his thighs? Kenny’s got the reins.
“You want it that bad, baby?”
Craig doesn’t answer. Not with words, anyway. Desperate noises, yes.
“S’been that rough for you, honey? All night? Did you—fuck—do you know how hot you sound? Right now? How—” Kenny cants his hips, takes a breath. “God, yeah, that’s so, so good. My good boy. Love your fuckin’ mouth, baby, thaaat’s it, oh fuck, mmmmh—”
Moans kiss his hole, rumbling against his clit when Craig strains to tongue him even deeper. He’s grabbing at Kenny’s thighs, wrapping his hands around them to pull the skin taut, and oh fuck, oh fuck. Kenny tries to jerk away but can’t. And his fingers move all on their own, sink into dark hair and pull because Craig’s moved up to his clit. He’s sucking, swirling his stud around every nerve that hurts so good, throbs so right.
“Craig, baby, you—” Kenny covers his mouth, panting into his palms. “Oh fuck.”
Two fingers sink into his hole, then three. Curl up and rub at that soft, spongy place. And Kenny can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do a damn thing except whine—take it. Because every time he moves, or tries to, it earns him another brutal twist of fingers.
“Come on, princess,” Craig mutters, dragging that little metal ball around Kenny’s clit. Walking his free hand up to Kenny’s tits and toying with them. “Let go for me, honey.”
Kenny does. Somewhere between the pinch to his nipple, the wobbly smirk against his cunt, and the sound Craig makes when Kenny’s thighs wrap him up—squish his face.
He squirts. His friends watch.
Then it’s over.
Kenny’s shaking from his hands to his thighs, trying to push hair out of his face while Craig thumbs over his hip. Kisses his sore pussy, lapping up cum and slick and Kenny.
“Greedy. Don’t ev—ah.” He rolls over and holds his legs shut. “Mm-mn. Can’t. I can’t.”
A wet little kiss grazes his clit, and that’s mean. Real mean. Especially since Craig gets to his feet instead of giving him another one. But then Kenny’s grabbed, twisted around, and it’s fine ‘cause Craig’s gonna stuff him full, but all he gets is his shorts.
Tugged up his legs, jerked over his hips. What the fuck.
“Oh no you don’t. Bring your ass here, you dirty slut. The hell’s the matter with you?”
“Sorry, honey. I’ll never take you seriously again. Is that better?”
“Oh.” Kenny cups his chin and nods. “Yeah. Duh. ‘Cause you always listen, right.”
“I do.” Craig pulls Kenny’s shirt down to cover him, tender. “When you mean it.”
“Huh. And yesterday? In the laundry room. That was, what? A fluke?”
“The same laundry room where you stripped down and got in my lap? That one?”
“Okay, first of all, fuck you. Two, I was saving us money. And three, you liked it.”
“Yeah. I did.” Craig rolls his eyes and wipes his face. “So can you stand or not?”
“Nuh-uh.” Kenny rubs his cheek against the couch, petulant. “Carry me.”
“Liar.”
“Take me away, officer.”
Long arms scoop him out of his own mess. And man oh man, the guys look wrecked. Half of them have wet spots and the other half are still dazed and confused, shaking their heads and blinking away stars. Craig doesn’t even look their way, just walks on.
“Wait,” Jimmy starts. He’s reaching for his crutches, bottom lip between his teeth. “I uh, I just uh, I just, I juh-juh-jussst—” His hands grip metal. “I wanted… to say thank you.”
“Who the hell says thank you after that? Jimmy, is your brain fucking scrambled?”
“Eric!”
Kenny watches Butters smack Cartman with a pillow, amused, then wiggles his fingers at Jimmy. The gesture colors his cheeks, but his eyes stay steady this time—following Kenny all the way to the foyer, roving over him as Craig snatches their keys off a hook.
“Not gonna say goodbye?” Kenny asks. He’s sleepy, nuzzling into the soft, warm skin of Craig’s shoulder. “No ‘thanks for having us’? ‘Sick party, man’? Nothin’ like that?”
“Nope.” Craig raises a hand and flips them off.
“That just made them smile.”
“Fuck off. No it didn’t.”
It did.
“Sure it didn’t. So now what?”
“My car. You’re gonna ride me.”
“Really now? After all that?”
Kenny’s clit throbs, pulses, aches. And he presses his mouth to Craig’s throat because of it, running his tongue over corded muscle and the taste of his pussy till Craig nods.
“Alright, baby. I’m game.”
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Kenny’s the one on his knees now—naked between Craig’s legs and the floorboards.
His hands are also down there, fingerfucking his tight hole, but Craig doesn’t mind.
Kenny can play all he wants when he looks like this. Doe-eyed, bathed in starlight, staring up at him like he’s never sucked dick before. It’s gorgeous, and as much as it pains Craig to say, successful. Coyness takes to Kenny like milk, saturates him with pointed ears and a long, flicking tail to match. Catlike, even with his throat stuffed full.
“Such a slut,” Craig mutters. Kenny’s mouth makes his head spin, all ten fingers sinking into blond hair and grabbing hard. “So fucking pretty wrapped around me.”
He holds tight when Kenny edges up, trying to slide off his dick. It isn’t for air; it’s so he can tease. So he can lick and purr, talk his shit instead of gagging on cock. Craig sighs, adjusts his grip, and shoves Kenny down. Fucks his face till his throat convulses.
“Shit,” Craig hisses. His jaw tightens, hips jerking. He wants more, wants to last. Wants to blow his load in Kenny’s cunt and nowhere else. “Get up. Get the fuck up here, now.”
“Mmmmmf.”
Kenny’s breathing hard, moaning and humping his hand when he should be grinding on Craig’s fucking cock. The car shakes. Burns even hotter. Craig pulls Kenny’s hair, does it again when he whines and again when he sucks, trying so hard to stay in place.
“Fuck.” Craig slumps back. “You’d suck my dick all day if I let you.”
He’s weak, tired. And his cock is aching, drooling, pulsing. It would be so easy, if he didn’t know how his boyfriend was feeling. Kenny’s fingers aren’t enough; he’s empty.
Craig tugs Kenny up and off, takes his dick and taps it against Kenny’s mouth. Rubs the head all over those swollen lips, those puffy pink cheeks, smearing them with spit.
“You just can’t get enough of it, can you? You’re aching for me. Aren’t you, honey?”
Kenny’s eyes are lidded now, dark with lust. His hair is tangled and he’s wet all over, shiny with tears, saliva, and all things pretty. It makes Craig restless, possessive. Makes him hand over his cock so Kenny can tongue him and kiss him and fuck, stop.
“You’re too fucking pretty,” Craig groans. It hurts without Kenny’s pussy, without him bouncing in his lap and making a mess. “Can’t fucking think straight when I look at you. Fuck. Get up. Get off the floor, come on. You wanna ride me, don’t you, princess?”
Kenny traces the underside with more kisses. “Yeah, but, I like makin’ you feel good.”
“You know what would make me feel even better?”
Craig bends down and grabs Kenny by the waist, stealing a kiss as he does. His dick stings without a warm mouth all over it, but he’s been patient, damn it. And besides, once Kenny’s up off the floor and back where he belongs, his wet cunt chases the pain.
“Don’t run from me,” Craig says against his lips, fighting to hold Kenny in place. He keeps having to bat Kenny’s hands away, agitated by this. “You know I don’t care.”
Huffing, Kenny turns his head. Craig follows him. “Ugh, quit it, just let me wipe it off—”
“No. Now shut up so I can kiss you.”
Craig squishes Kenny’s cheeks and leans in, going slow, putting him on his cock. And as Kenny starts to sink, his hips in Craig’s hands and his tits in Craig’s face, he shivers.
“Maybe—Maybe we,” Kenny pants, “make this a thing.” He’s got a hand on Craig’s shoulder and another in his hair, breathing high and tight. “Once a week? Nah, that’s way too—stay still, fuck. Once a month? Craigy? How’s that? That’s not too ba—baby.”
“What.” Craig strokes Kenny’s skin. Kisses his neck. “What are you on about now?”
“Don’t be mean. You know—mmh—what we ju—fuck. You’re always so fuckin’ big.”
“You’re just tight, honey.” Craig sighs and hugs him close. “Go a little slower and open up for me. I wanna feel you.” Another kiss, another inch. “There you go. Take it all in.”
“Don’t even get how hot you are, that’s—hah—that’s what pisses me off.”
“Yeah? Why don’t you tell me about it?”
It’s too dark to see the puffy hood of Kenny’s clit; the moonlight isn’t nearly enough. But Craig still reaches down and feels it out, running his lips up Kenny’s neck, his jaw.
“Nuh-uh, not gonna, not till you tell me—”
“Sorry, honey. I thought it was obvious that you don’t need a schedule to ride me.”
Kenny makes a face, but it’s softened by his tears, how nice he’s taking Craig’s dick. Then he sinks. All the way. Shuddering just once before lifting his hips, starting to ride.
“Alright, smart ass. Be that way. I’m asking if you had a good time.” Kenny clears his throat, still raspy from being fucked. “If you wanna do it again, fuck, wanna eat me a—”
“I do,” Craig says. “Every night. What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
A shake of Kenny’s head, then another, quicker. His hands slide past Craig’s shoulders, brushing the fuzz behind the seats and clinging to it. He’s trying not to whine, to whimper, bouncing on Craig’s cock with his lip between his teeth. Skin slaps, so wet.
“No, no, baby, I love it.” Kenny kisses Craig’s face, gasps in it. “Craig, honey, I—”
“Feel better?” Craig tucks a strand of hair behind Kenny’s ear. “Feel full, princess?”
A sulky moan rattles through Craig’s skull, and he smiles. He gets it. He’s known the whole time—what Kenny wants. He just likes to piss him off, to fuck him through it. Craig rolls his hips, eyes fluttering shut from the clench around his cock, the warmth.
“You want me to fuck you.”
“Yeah, yeah, uh-huh, in—in front of—”
“You liked it that much?” Another thrust. “Them drooling over your cunt?”
“Wha—no, nonono, I jus—”
Kenny’s so wet, so soft, making it so easy for Craig to hold him down and fuck him. To dig his fingers into Kenny’s round ass and spread his cheeks, spank them red and raw.
“No? It didn’t make you squirt all over Tolkien’s floor? Then what did, honey? Hm?”
Hands grab his shoulders, nails digging in. Then Kenny’s rocking on his own, rolling his pretty little pussy up and down Craig’s length, his tight ass. Quick and dirty, needy.
“Jus’ you, baby,” he mumbles, touching all over Craig’s skin. “Jus’ me an’ you. Felt so fuckin’ good. Wanted you so damn bad. Needed you, fuck, needed this fuckin’ cock.”
“Yeah? You wa—shit.” Craig buries a groan in Kenny’s throat. “You wanted me to wreck you? Huh, princess? Fill you u—oh fuck, keep squeezing me. Yeah, honey, just like t—”
Knuckles rap against glass. Craig takes a long fucking breath.
Then, with one hand still pillowed in the fat of Kenny’s ass, still bouncing him on his cock in the back of his fucking car, Craig hits the switch for the window. Rolls it down.
Tweek flashes his palms in a jerky wave, the dipshits behind him dead silent.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“To watch.” Another twitch, half a smile. “I mean, you haven’t even left the—left the uh, you know, the fucking driveway, man. So. Can we? Just watch? Looks like you’re alm—”
A pained whine cuts him off. Craig’s eyes move first, then his head, but Kenny’s already on him—tugging at his jaw and twisting his hair, swallowing his cock with ease.
“Craig.” It’s wet with need, choked up. Craig’s heart pounds inside his dick. “Please. Don’t jus’ fucking stop. Need it, need you, fuck me, please fuck me, c’mon, c’mon—”
Craig nods, more than a little dizzy as Kenny fucks himself on his cock, eyes glued to Kenny’s heaving tits, the scattered red and blue hickeys flashing in and out of sight. And as he’s reaching up to tug on those cute fucking nipples, listening to Kenny’s sweet moans and his loud, hitching cries, Craig decides that he likes this. No, loves it.
It feels good, feels fucking perfect, knowing Kenny belongs to him and no one else.
“Then take it,” Craig murmurs, counting freckles. “Take what you want, princess.”