A S-CREEK-ret Admirer

After Party

Tweek vanishes after we get to Bebe's as people begin to filter in, and each new person to walk in the door is treated to an increasingly more exaggerated version of the tale of "Craig Vanquishes the Creep", featuring "poor wounded little Tweek".
I find him on the balcony in Bebe's parents' bedroom.
"You ok?" I ask, sliding the glass door shut behind me. He turns towards me from his silent contemplation leaning against the railing. 
"Yeah, not a scratch," he chuckles airily, though his tone was vaguely irate. "Thanks to you..." he adds a little softer, flashing me a small, bashfully-grateful smile, before turning to stare into Bebe's expansive backyard once again.
"I mean, I was just the first one to act... any of us would've stepped in to beat the shit out of that asshole," I say, guilt and shame rising up again as the memory of the poisonous words I so thoughtlessly spit, echos through my mind.
"Yeah, I guess you're right..." he sighs wistfully. "I'm pretty lucky to have such overbearing friends I guess," he adds sardonically, taking a large chug of the beer in his hand. I chuckle in agreement, mimicking his chug with the beer in my own hand.
It's awkward.
Both of us silent, leaning on the railing and staring off into the dark woods beyond Bebe's fence.
I wanna tell him. I wanna say something but, how can I now? After that experience, he probably wants nothing to do with anyone claiming to have feelings for him.
Fuck me.
I swig the last of my beer.
"So, I guess you were wrong..." he says absently, his voice lifeless. I turn to look at him,  but he continues staring forward, and after a pause, chugs back the remaining contents of his bottle.
I don't know what to say, so I just I continue to watch him in silence, as he uses a finger to balance his empty beer bottle upside-down on the wooden railing.
"You want another beer?" I softly ask after a moment. He sighs, hanging his head and holding out his empty bottle towards me.
"Yes."
"Ok, I'll be right back." I tell him, taking the bottle from his outstretched hand.
I make my way down to the kitchen as quickly as possible, a strange sort of urgency shortening my breath.
"Hey, hero!" Kenny claps an arm around my shoulders as I emerge from the fridge with two beers.
"Woah, double fisting it!" He appreciates, fist bumping me with the beer in his own hand.
"Ones for Tweek," I say impatiently, shimmying out from under his arm, and hurrying back up the stairs. The smirk he flashed as I said that, remains burned into the backs of my retinas. I've seen that look before, and it usually precedes something unsavoury for whoever's involved.
My heart pounds in my ears as I turn into Bebe's parents' room, afraid I won't find Tweek still standing on the balcony.
But he's still there, same as I left him.
"Hey," I say, as I slide open the door.
"Hey, that was fast," he comments in mild surprise, turning towards me and taking the proffered beer.
"Yeah, I didn't wanna leave you waiting, you seem like you needed it..." I laugh awkwardly, hoping it lightens the mood. He scowls.
"Jesus. I really hope everyone doesn't walk on eggshells around me now," he says, taking a frustrated chug of his fresh beer.
"Least of all you," He adds, meeting my eyes. Hurt shimmers behind his emerald irises.
"...I wasn't," I say, but that's all I can manage.
Truth is, that's exactly what I was doing.
He exhales in exasperation, turning away from the railing to slump onto the plush little outdoor-loveseat nestled into the corner opposite the door.
"Just, be your regular, asshole-self," he announces to the stars on another exasperated exhale, opening his arms wide and letting them flop haphazardly onto the cushions. I watch in mild amusement.
"How many have you had?" I ask, my amusement filtering into my tone. He picks up on it, and levels his head to dissect my mood with his eyes.
"Like, four?" He smirks, gesturing that his current beer was the fourth. I smirk back, as something dawns on me.
"So, you aren't hiding up here because you're traumatized, but because you don't want to be coddled?" I question. His smirk widens, and he rolls his eyes.
"Obviously," he drawls. "If I was traumatized, I'd go home to cry, and drown my existential suffering in inspirational quotes," I chuckle at his sarcasm, and we both take a more relaxed swig of our beers.
"Besides," he begins, "being pitied is just gonna make the whole thing much bigger. And I'm not drunk enough to not feel it. That's why I'm hiding up here," He elaborates, and grins cheekily as he reveals a hidden, half-empty six pack of beer from behind the arm of the loveseat. I scoff in disbelief.
"I can't believe you didn't say anything when I offered to go get more beer!" I accuse. He shrugs.
"I thought it was an excuse to slip away," he admits unaffected. I'm taken aback, and I just gape at him.
"What? I know full-well I'm not exactly the 'life of the party' right now, and I wasn't gonna hold it against you if you wanted to go have fun," he shrugs. I scoff again, indignantly shoving him over and collapsing onto the other half of the love seat.
"I'm not just gonna leave you to simmer in your own misery," I state. He laughs at my indignant tone.
"Why not? What's it to..." He trails off, his grin slowly fading.
"It was you." He concludes, his suddenly-serious expression impossible to decipher.
My insides freeze.
I'm at a loss completely. He fuckin pinned me.
Like a bug on a board.
I'm not sure if I should feel guilty, or elated.
I resolve to pretend I don't know what he's talking about, to better gauge his reaction, but he's quicker.
"You sent the candy gram." He clarifies. I gulp. There's no mercy from this kid. I take my heart in my teeth, and hesitantly nod.
"Y-yeah..." I concede nervously.
For a moment, time stands still, then he breaks eye contact to smile at the ground. Relief floods through me like a tidal wave, replacing all the anxious dread with elated hopefulness. I dissect him with my eyes, as he sits there fumbling with the label on the bottle in his lap, smirking at the ground.
"Craig Tucker is my secret admirer." He muses amusedly.
"You don't have to be so in awe," I mumble in embarrassment, taking a swig of my beer.
Hearing him say those words took my stomach for a dizzying spin.
He chuckles bashfully.
"So, then, does that mean I'm 'the person that actually matters'?" He wonders aloud, I nod again, shoving my beer against my lips and chugging the rest of it. He laughs buoyantly in wonder, staring at me wide-eyed.
"What." I blurt.
"I just, I've never seen you so..?" He says, not knowing how to finish. I flip my hair so it covers my eyes better, in a pathetic attempt to hide my embarrassment from him.
"...fuck you," I mumble halfheartedly, turning my face away like a scared baby. He chuckles, but I hear the nervous undertone to it, and I watch from underneath my hair as he fidgets with the bottle in his hands, before realizing his absentminded action, and resolving to finish the rest of it.
It's silent again, as we stare into the night, but it's silent in the completely opposite way than it was before.
I've never before in my life felt like this much of a complete fucking idiot.
Here I am, next to the love of my life, who is fully aware of my feelings, and doesn't seem offended by them, and I'm frozen to the spot.
But... does he really feel the same? What if he's only flattered that I have feelings for him? What if he's hoping for an excuse to slip away before anything more happens?
Fuck.
What do I do here.
What do I say?
"Are you gonna kiss me anytime soon?" Tweek blurts with drunken bravado. The figurative ice that binds me immobile, shatters around me. I gape at him. He blinks in surprise at his own words, laughing awkwardly.
"Can I?" I implore breathlessly, unconsciously leaning in towards him. He meets my eyes, nodding shyly.
I lean in closer, magnetically, staring deep into his radiant eyes as I brush my thumb lightly across his cheek. His eyelashes flutter at my touch, as his plump lips part slightly with a shaky sigh.
I can't wait a second longer.
I close the distance between our eager lips, cupping the back of his head to pull him closer.
It's as if I'm plunged into some sort of murky void, where all that exists is him, this kiss, and his fingers, shyly twisting themselves into my shirt to tug closer...
I break away, gasping for breath. I press my forehead against his, searching for his eyes. His gaze is electric, only serving to add to my painful breathlessness.
I kiss him again.
Deeper this time, pulling him even closer, and he tugs closer just the same, his hands twining up into my hair, he parts his lips eagerly, inviting my tongue with his own, as it traces softly across my bottom lip. A soft groan escapes my throat as our tongues collide, and he urgently yanks me closer than I ever thought two people could get, fusing our mouths together hungrily.
"Hey, heyy! We were just coming to find you!" both of us jump in surprise as Kenny interrupts, sliding open the balcony door as loud as possible, Bebe leaning over his shoulder, grinning maniacally.
"We were gonna make you guys play spin the bottle with us, but I guess you beat us to it!" Bebe laughs. Tweek buries his face in my shoulder, uttering an embarrassed sound.
"I th-think we're good.." I gulp nervously, deep in that heated trance that still lingers, in the way Tweek's fingers grip at my shirt, the magnified sound of his panting breaths against my neck, and his overwhelming warmth I feel as if he's still pressed so maddeningly close against me. Bebe pouts.
"Hey, just cause it's Valentine's Day, and you guys are making out doesn't mean that's the end. We've still got a party to rage!" She enthuses, looping an arm around Kenny's neck and bouncing against him.
"Just cause you guys aren't making out, doesn't mean you have to drag us to your level." Tweek mutters angstily, sitting up off me and crossing his arms across his chest.
Kenny laughs good-naturedly, but it's obvious he's dying to get her alone. Bebe scowls at us, and grabs Kenny's face, kissing him passionately. He responds with an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm, and we're treated to a couple minutes of watching them make out as if it's the last thing they'd do in this life. I vaguely wonder if that's what Tweek and I looked like too, as Bebe disengages her lips to dazedly exclaim that we were all in the same boat now, and that the party awaits.
"Fine, but I'm gonna need more alcohol." Tweek concedes begrudgingly.

A few rounds of beer pong later, and all I could focus on was Tweek, pulling him close against me, and planting as many kisses on his lips as I could every time I got an opportunity.
"OhHyEAhh!! Drink up, neRds!" Tweek taunts, throwing up his arms in celebration and turning to me to receive his congratulations, as he sinks yet another one in the other teams' cups. I grin at him, wrapping my arms around his middle, lifting him off the ground and spinning him around cheering. He laughs in delight, letting himself slide down through my arms and pecking me on the lips. I squeeze him tighter pressing my lips to his until complaints of "get a room!" and "throw the damn ball already!" interrupt us.
Tweek however, pays them no mind, grabbing my face and tangling our tongues together.
That's all it takes for me to lose perception of everything outside of our kiss.
"Ok, yeah, it's time for you guys to go home and get to sleep," Token announces, as he yanks us out of our heated make out session. Tweek whines, fingers clawing desperately to close the sudden distance between us as Token tows us to his car.