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Grown-Up Abduction Isn't Funny Either

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His eyes kept focus on the night unfolding in front of him, only occasionally drifting off-course to sneak glances in the rearview mirror.

The hostage didn’t speak. Couldn’t speak. Only whimpered pathetically under the hood that obscured his face, and quivered as he leaned his cheek against the window. Craig figured he could allow it—for the time being. He almost wished he didn’t have to cover those beautiful eyes, so that he might see the fear in them, revel in his tears.

Craig’s tongue darted over his bottom lip when he caught sight of another attempt to struggle, just barely, wrists rubbing together where they were drawn and bound behind the prisoner’s back. The knees of his prize spread themselves apart, and a low, muffled whine drifted from beneath the cloth. It wasn’t as if the cord around his ankles would magically disappear, either. It would go exactly as it had the other times—a futile effort. What was he expecting? Craig exhaled then, a quiet laugh.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he stated. “So stop trying.”

A muffled sob came next, prickling at Craig’s chest. For a moment, a new kind of fear gripped him, but he allowed himself to breathe through it.

 


 

“I want you to rape me.”

It had been whispered into his ear, and Craig’s eyes shot open. Did Tweek really just say what he thought he’d just said?

“What,” Craig gasped out, then his eyes drifted closed again when he felt the tip of his lover’s tongue trace the shell of his ear. Then teeth sank into the lobe, tugging at it.

“Rape me.”

“Stop… stop saying that.” He shook his head. “You’re a freak.”

“You like when I’m a freak.” Tweek’s hands gripped his hips tightly, and Craig knew with the shifting of the bed beneath him that he’d had risen up straight on his knees again. Tweek sharply bucked his hips forward, wrenching out a choked moan. “Think about it.”

“Don’t wanna think,” Craig muttered, tipping his head forward.

“Then I’ll do it for you.” The words poured out of him in a rush, overlaying the rhythm of his movements. “You kidnap me. You tie me up. You drag me off somewhere. You make me so fucking scared I can’t breathe… uhnn…”

“You actually wanna be scared.”

“Yeah,” and he was draping himself over Craig’s back again, nuzzling the nape of his neck, scraping at it with his teeth. “When it’s you.”

 


 

He knew the anticipation only folded over itself tenfold when the vehicle turned onto an off-road, and then its wheels slowed against the roughened terrain. They rolled over dirt and crunched against leaves, and at one point where the car gave a little jerk, Craig heard a muddied, startled little cry in response. It was almost endearing—no, it was endearing, and he almost fought back his smile before he remembered that Tweek couldn’t see him anyway.

“You scared?” he pressed. When the young man in the back seat said nothing in reply, Craig looked over his shoulder instead of in the mirror. Tweek was hunched against the door, curling himself up as tight as he could given the predicament of his limbs. As if folding into himself would make him disappear. He looked small, very small. Craig growled at him, “I asked you a question, brat,” and he rapidly shook his head, curling up tighter.

A flash of fear hit Craig again, ice that drove through his skin and into his veins. What if he hadn’t settled into it the way he wanted? What if Craig really did unravel something inside him, something that made him want to disappear where it was safe? He reached for his lover’s thigh and squeezed it, hoping a familiar touch would remind him, remind him that it was safe and it was all right. That it was still his Craig, and they could stop if he needed to, that he would never judge him for pulling the plug—

Tweek emitted a low growl, and then he thrashed in his bonds, kicking out with his joined legs. Craig snatched his hand away. Then he thought better of himself, and promptly laid a sharp smack against the curve of Tweek’s backside. It would have been dulled by his trousers, but Tweek squirmed anyway, and whined.

Craig knew the timbre of those sounds. That wasn’t Tweek when he needed guidance back to reality. That was sassy Tweek. He clicked his tongue and eased his foot back against the gas pedal. The car rolled onward.

 


 

“I dunno,” Craig said, even as he rolled his hips backwards. “I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t wanna hurt you, babe.”

“What if, what if that’s what I want?” Tweek nosed at his ear, and then cooed into it, “nnn, that’s it, ride it…”

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. Tweek was holding entirely still, save for the minute circling of his hips, draped over his back, hands laid over Craig’s where they were pressed flat to the bed. He rocked back against him desperately, aching all over for that slow burn inside him.

“I want it,” Tweek continued. “Ah, yeah, that’s good, just like that. Just like that… a-and I know you wanna, you wanna give it to me good. You wanna give it to me good, and I trust you to. I trust you!”

“But it’s,” Craig could scarcely find his voice. Everything about him was a mess, an utter mess. Tweek would break him apart completely if he wanted to, just to make it that much easier to convince him that he could tear him to shreds. He was so sick and so depraved, but he loved him for it, it was part of him, yet how could he indulge him this time? He’d said—

“Rape,” Tweek murmured. “It’d just be one of our games. One of our games, y’know?”

“One of our games.”

 


 

The car rolled to a halt. It was a nice secluded area, right by a lake that glittered under the rising moon. A quiet, unsettling kind of beauty that rose even Craig’s hackles, though he’d thoroughly researched the area and he knew it would be safe. He clicked on the flashlight and got out of the car, whistling a little to himself as he walked around to Tweek’s door and opened it. Tweek immediately tensed, and Craig pressed a hand to his shoulder so that he wouldn’t topple right out.

“Sit up,” he ordered. When Tweek didn’t move, he tapped the handle of the flashlight against his knee—let him think whatever he thought it was. His prisoner immediately bolted upright, quivering all over. “I’m going to undo your ankles,” Craig stated, his voice entirely calm. “And you’re going to take a little walk with me. You’re not going to try to escape.” His mouth had gone dry in spite of himself, and he licked his lips again, eyes roaming up and down Tweek’s body. “Nod if you understand.”

It took a few heartbeats, but the hood slowly nodded.

“Good boy,” Craig said. He leaned in then, and made work of the knotted cord around his captive’s ankles. They were close like this, obscenely close, and all Craig had to do was look up and he’d be eye level with Tweek’s crotch. He did exactly that, and smirked at what he found there, laying against his thigh.

He was hard.

Without another word, Craig carefully helped him out of the car, and slammed the door shut behind him. Tweek gasped and lurched forward, braced against Craig’s chest. Craig steered him toward the cabin with an arm about his shoulders.

“If you’re good,” he coaxed, “I’ll take that hood off. You’re good, aren’t you? It’s such a beautiful night, and I’d hate for you to miss it.”

Tweek nodded again, clumsily staggering forward with the direction Craig provided. When Craig halted in his step, so did he.

The hood came off.

Tweek heaved in a great breath, like he hadn’t been able to get a proper lungful of air from the moment Craig caught him after work and dragged him through the garage with a hand over his mouth right back into the car. He coughed a couple of times and hunched over slightly, taking in the scenery through wide eyes. His tousled hair was stirred up even more, and Craig nonchalantly smoothed a couple of tufts down. “Look at that,” he said, hoping his calm would come across as creepy instead of boring. “Isn’t it a beautiful night? It’s so clear. You can see the stars.”

Tweek dragged in a couple more deep breaths. The wiry muscle of his shoulders shifted as his arms tried fruitlessly to move, still firmly clasped together in the rope that twisted all the way down to his bony wrists. “Uh-huh,” he managed.

And then he was off.

Clearly, he had no clue where he was going, but Tweek bolted like a frightened animal anyway, in the opposite direction, past Craig and the car and he didn’t make it very far, all things considered. He didn’t make it far at all because Craig easily cleared the distance between them, and that was when he stumbled, feet slipping against the wet leaves on the soft ground. Tweek still didn’t have the use of his arms to keep his balance, and he yelped once when Craig caught him around his middle and immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.

He thrashed helplessly, body squirming deliciously against Craig’s, the muffled cries in his throat softening to dull whimpers. “Shh,” Craig hissed out, deceptively kind. “Shh, shh, shhhh… ” The hand pressed to his body came up and gently combed back Tweek’s bangs before resting against his forehead. It was already damp with perspiration. “No one can hear you out here anyway,” Craig murmured to him with a sickening sweetness that surprised even himself. “No one can hear you, so there’s no point in trying to scream.”

It was brief, very brief, but Craig caught sight of Tweek’s eyes rolling back in his head, lashes fluttering. A sharp breath escaped his nose. He always made that face whenever Craig found the courage to whisper dirty things to him.

“You’re not gonna pull that again, are you?” Tweek’s eyes were closed, his whole body shaking. He quickly shook his head. Emboldened, Craig continued, lowering his voice until it was scarcely above a whisper. “Good. I know you’re not gonna try and pull that again. Because if you do, I’ll—” Just say it, he urged himself, against the nerves roiling inside him. He likes it, he fucking likes it, it’s just pretend and he’s lapping this shit up. Just say it.

“I’ll kill you,” Craig whispered into his ear. “If you try to run away again, I’ll catch you, and I’ll kill you.”

Behind his hand, Tweek moaned softly.

 


 

“And you could, mmm,” Tweek started to move his hips again. “You’ll ruin me. I want you to ruin me. I want to cry from it.”

“You’re hopeless,” Craig said with a wavering little laugh, halting for a moment to collect himself again. Tweek did not stop. In fact, he was getting more frenzied, his grip tightening, enough to leave bruises.

“Try it,” he urged. “Please, just try it. I want it so it’s not real. We have our word. We have our—ah!—way out if, i-if it’s too much, I… I just want it, I want it.”

“How should I give it to you?”

“How? ...How?!” Tweek was picking up the pace behind him, the smacks of his pelvis and his balls against the skin of Craig’s ass bouncing around the room, quick and rapid-fire and brutal. Craig didn’t even bother trying to hold back his cries. “Like— like this, you… you get me and you fuck me hard, you’ll fuck me so hard and I’ll beg, I’ll beg you to stop and you won’t. You won’t!”

“I w— I won’t,” Craig repeated, dazed, and he managed to gasp out, “don’t stop,” before collapsing, shaking and crying out as he came all over himself. Dimly he heard his lover hiss out that he was close, and he half-sobbed, yes before it filled him.

Tweek made a humming noise against him and he rolled over, panting hard as he felt that beautiful cock—that goddamned beautiful, incredible cock that drove him out of his mind—slide out of him with ease. He breathlessly kissed back when he felt lips on his cheeks, chin, mouth.

“Did that… that meant you’ll do it? The yes?”

“I said yes because I wanted you to come inside me,” Craig deadpanned, but he brought a hand up to tenderly swipe back the sweat-slick hair from Tweek’s temples. Nice try, you manipulative little fuck, he thought. “But I’ll think about it.”

Tweek squealed and hugged him tight, because so far, I’ll think about it ended up with Craig succumbing to whatever sick shit Tweek wanted him to do, because he was fucking weak to him and they both knew it.

 


 

Tweek remained silent as he allowed Craig to guide him back to the cabin without further struggle, tensed and quivering. Craig made sure they were pressed firm together with an arm around him, not only to keep him close enough to prevent further attempts at escaping, but so his captive could feel what he did to him. Craig was already hard, and it could be felt through his pants, and he wanted Tweek to feel it too. Not just the character he was putting on, but the real Tweek underneath it all.

When they got to the door and Craig fished out his keys with the other hand, Tweek sucked in a harsh breath, and his lower lip trembled beautifully.

“Please,” he said softly, and briefly closed his eyes, as if it would shut out the rest of the Hell that was certain to unfold around him, “don’t hurt me.” Something delightful, twisted and dark slithered through Craig’s belly. He opted not to answer—to draw out the fear and anticipation that surely mounted within him—and merely unlocked the door.

It was pitch black in the cabin, lit only by the moon as it spilled through faded windows, and Craig led his charge inside. The door was locked behind them. Craig brought his arm down—the one he’d kept around Tweek’s body—and unabashedly rubbed his hand over the other man’s groin. Tweek gasped and shied away. A throaty chuckle rolled from Craig’s throat, and he drew it around to the back, giving his ass a squeeze. Tweek whimpered.

“Please,” he begged again, a little louder. Craig’s fingers knotted in the hem of his shirt, just beneath those joined wrists. He felt them brush against the back of his hand and the tendons in them shifted as they curled into fists.

“I might not hurt you,” Craig replied. “That all depends on how you act.”

“What…” and Tweek swallowed there. Craig’s eyes were drawn to the bob of his Adam’s apple, the lovely curve of his throat. They were supposed to be the eyes of a predator now, hungry and raw and deranged, and Craig found himself noticing the details more. He smirked and reached out to touch it, carefully pressed his fingertips against Tweek’s windpipe, just a little. Tweek coughed, his pupils flared wide and dark, only the thinnest rings of blue-green separating them from the whites of his eyes. Craig dragged his fingers up through the fine blond wisps at the nape of his neck. He tangled them into the haphazard curls there, and forced Tweek’s head back, so that he could press his lips against the side of his neck.

Tweek shivered beneath him, and tried to twist away. Craig could hear the whimpers right at his ear as he sucked on the skin, bit at it, marked him. He kissed the blood-bruise tenderly and moved down just a little lower to leave another. Tweek yelped aloud.

“Stop!” he cried. “Please!” Craig lifted his head.

“This is what I meant,” he said calmly, and grasped his charge by the jaw, turning his head this way and that so he could admire the bone structure there. Tweek squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re so pretty,” Craig murmured. “So pretty, and you taste so sweet.”

“No,” Tweek cried, struggling against him. Craig’s teeth bared in a sneer, and then he was dragging him across the foyer. “No!” Tweek shouted, louder this time. “No!

“Shut up,” Craig growled, and slapped a hand over his mouth. Tweek tried to pull away, but he kept a firm hold, and hauled him through the living room, shoved him down onto the couch. Craig pressed his weight down onto him. Tweek was crying behind his hand now, little muffled sobs. The windows in the living room were huge, nearly as large as the wall, and the lake glittered calmly beyond the dusky glass. Their curtains were drawn open, and Craig couldn’t help but wonder how beautiful his victim would look with the moonlight spilling over his skin. Through it, he could see his face a little more clearly, and it was streaked with wetness: tears? Or sweat? He smoothed his hand through Tweek’s hair and whispered, shhh.

“Please,” Tweek sobbed as Craig pulled his own shirt off. “Please just let me go. Please.

“No,” Craig said simply, and watched as Tweek dissolved beneath him, turning his face and crying into the cushions. He caught him by the jaw and dragged him, forced him to look. “Look at me,” he growled. “Look at me, you little slut.” Tweek’s eyes were wild, darting back and forth, glossy and unfocused. Craig bent down and kissed him, sloppy and lewd. He felt Tweek’s mouth move against his, almost like it was an automatic response, always eager for his kisses—and truth be told, it satisfied something in Craig too, the twinge of fear that was making its way back through—but then it slackened. It slackened but Craig knew, and he shoved his tongue between them, licked all over inside Tweek’s mouth.

Tweek made a noise against his mouth and tried to pull away from him, but he held his grip fast, forced him to take it, and thrust his tongue against the soft muscle there. Tweek whimpered and shook beneath him, sniffling. Finally Craig drew back and said:

“Do you know what I’m gonna do to you?”

Tweek fiercely shook his head, eyes shut tight.

“Yes you do,” Craig said. “You know what I’m gonna do, because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be so scared.”

“Please,” Tweek whispered again. His face crumpled. “Ple-ease.” Craig reached down and yanked his shoes off one by one, threw them to the floor. He gripped Tweek’s shoulder tight, and climbed off him, and then he was hauling him to his feet, this sweet little prisoner of his. The markings he’d left stood out on his neck even in the darkness, and Craig couldn’t wait to stain him more.

He hauled him forward—practically dragged him, really—past the kitchen before he stopped. He stopped, because he caught sight of the wooden block on the counter, the rubber handles that stuck out. Craig smiled to himself and reached for one of them; he held onto Tweek with one hand and inspected with the other. Tweek was shaking hard again, his eyes wide and blazing and fixated solely on what Craig’s hands were doing there. The butcher knife was what Craig settled on, glinting in the night, its serrated edge like teeth.

Tweek started to hyperventilate. Craig felt his heart skip a beat, the ice returning.

“Wh-what are you gonna—” He could still speak. He could speak, and they were words, and it was still the game, and so Craig said nothing. Tweek turned his eyes up to him: they were sweet and sad and scared, doe eyes in the headlights, and Craig wasn’t moved by them at all. They only made his blood pound faster. He said nothing and held the blade to his neck, grabbed him by the hair, and Tweek went still. He padded across the glossy floorboards obediently, until they breached the threshold and then they were in the bedroom. The bed was huge—so it really was a king size—and Craig released the tenacious grip he held on his hair.

Only to take him by the shoulder, and shove him onto the bed, face down. Tweek let out a short scream into the mattress. “Shut up,” Craig growled. He seized him by the hair again and pulled his face up, and Tweek was gasping for air, shaking beneath him. Craig pressed the knife to his neck, laid it against the soft skin just beneath his chin. Tweek shuddered, tensed up, and then let out a sob.

“Oh,” he groaned. “Oh, god, please. God, help me.”

Craig let go of his hair and reached beneath him to undo his jeans, and that’s when he felt it: the wet spot. He patted down Tweek’s groin, which drew another round of sobs from him, and the trail continued, down his thigh. He froze up again.

What had he done? What had he caused?

“Please let me go,” Tweek repeated in a broken whisper, sobbing the words out. Craig felt himself relax, his hips up against Tweek’s ass.

He leaned in, tucked a lock of hair behind an ear, and whispered into it, “Did you wet yourself?”

Tweek let out another sob; this one much louder, and he squeezed his legs together the best he could under Craig’s overbearing weight.

“You did, didn’t you,” Craig taunted him. “You pissed yourself. Pissed right all over your nice jeans.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Tweek choked out.

“Thought it’d stop me?” Craig laughed cruelly. He yanked down the zipper and pressed his fingers inside. Tweek’s briefs were soaked through, plastered to his crotch, where he’d gone flaccid. Craig fondled him anyway, and felt a little of the firmness return.

Nooo,” Tweek moaned pathetically, and squirmed, trying to wiggle his hips away. Craig moved the knife from his throat and nudged the point of it up against the collar of his shirt where it rested against the back of his neck.

“Pathetic,” Craig said flatly. “Absolutely pathetic.” He laughed again, and Tweek shivered. “Scared you so much it made you wet yourself. You’re a mess.” He sawed the knife against the shirt’s collar until he felt a give, and then brought it down, carving through the thin fabric like butter. Tweek squealed in shock, and flinched, and the knife scraped over his skin. He cried out, and Craig quickly set the knife aside, tearing the shirt down the rest of the way with his own hands. “Shit,” he said.

It wasn’t a deep cut by any means, only carved along the surface, but a few droplets of blood welled up. That hadn’t been part of the plan. Cats left worse scratches than this, but Craig still felt immensely guilty, and he bent down to kiss the spot. Tweek had gone silent beneath him, save for his breathing, and before Craig could even process what he was doing, he darted his tongue out. Tweek still wasn’t calling the whole thing off, and it really wasn’t that bad, was it? There was a faint tinge of copper on his tongue, and Tweek gasped when he was licked there. Craig touched him between the legs again, and he was harder this time, in spite of the cold wetness. He drew himself up.

“Come on,” he snarled, and hauled Tweek up to his feet. He dragged him into the bathroom and yanked down his jeans, then his wet underwear, and left him standing shamefully naked from the waist down as he turned on the showerhead. It was a glass enclosure, and he pushed Tweek inside. Tweek screamed as soon as the water touched him, but there was no steam, it was simply too cold. Craig laughed cruelly and slapped his bare ass, and felt the answering twinge in his groin when Tweek squealed.

“Shouldn’t have messed yourself up!” Craig called out over the rush of water. “Should’ve just done what you were told. Should’ve just been—” and he slapped him on the ass again. Tweek howled. “—good!” He grabbed at the fabric of his shirt and yanked, twisted, tore at it; it hung off him in strips, and Craig pushed it down as best he could, until it all bunched up along his bound arms. Craig left him standing there and hurriedly took off the rest of his own clothing, left it in a puddle of fabric on the ground as he got into the shower with Tweek. Tweek hiccuped and shrank against the wall, but it was of little help. Craig hauled him under the spray, forced it to run down his hair and into his face. Tweek choked and spat. He was shivering wildly.

Stop!” he screamed, and it echoed off the walls only to be drowned out by the running water. He tried to bolt out of the shower but Craig blocked his path, and caught him around the waist, and he screamed again, and kicked. Craig slapped him hard on the cheek, and he wailed.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled at him through clenched teeth, and pulled him close to his body. Tweek was crying again, loud and dramatic, and Craig dropped one of his hands to feel along his crotch. He was soft, likely because of the cold water. Craig was shivering too; both of them were covered with goosebumps. He pressed up against him and murmured into his ear, “get it all out. If you still gotta go, better get it all out.”

“I did!” Tweek cried.

“So you don’t have to go?!” Craig shouted back at him. “Not gonna try and piss all over me again, you little shit!?” Tweek fiercely shook his head back and forth. Craig reached above him and fiddled with the knobs until the water came out warm. Steam filled the enclosure, and Craig reached between Tweek’s thighs again, played around with his dick until it grew thick against his fingers.

No,” Tweek sobbed. “Don’t, don’t, please!” Craig slapped him on the ass again. He jolted forward, and Craig pressed him under the spray again, right up against the glass wall.

“Shut up,” Craig said, and crudely rubbed his fingers into the crack of Tweek’s ass. “I said shut up,” he snarled when Tweek didn’t shut up, but let out another round of cries, wailing into the deafening rush of water. Craig brought his hand up, and slapped him again, and again, over and over on his ass until it flared hot-pink and Tweek squirmed and howled. “Bet you like that,” he sneered at him. “Bet you like it. Little slut.” He reached around and squeezed him, feeling how erect he'd become. Craig smirked and bit the back of Tweek’s neck.

Stop!” Tweek hollered again. Of course, Craig didn’t.

“Spread your legs,” he said. When Tweek didn’t listen, he yelled at him again, “I said spread your fuckin’ legs!” and then he did it for him, prying them apart, and then spreading his cheeks. The water ran down into his crack and over his hole, and Craig promptly shoved one of his fingers up his ass. Tweek screamed. It throbbed deliciously around him, and Craig dragged it in and out, never letting it fall from him completely.

No!” Tweek cried, struggling to get away, but he was trapped, nowhere to go. Nowhere to run, or to hide. He whimpered against the wall as Craig tortured his hole, and sobbed out, “oww.”

“Yeah,” Craig grunted, rubbing his dick up against Tweek’s inner thigh from behind. “Yeah, you’re tight. You’re so fucking tight. That’s gonna feel so good.” Tweek just sobbed at him, wordlessly, and Craig whispered into his hair, “bet you’ve never had a dick up your ass, have you?”

Please,” Tweek choked out. “Please don’t, please. It hurts.

“If you’re good,” Craig promised him, “if you’re good and just relax, it’ll feel good for you, too.” Tweek sagged wearily against the wall, and lifted his ass a little, as if he was trying to relax into it. “Push out,” Craig encouraged him. “Open up that hole. Yeah, that’s it.” The muscles slackened around him, gradually opening up to accommodate his finger. “Yeah, I bet that feels good now, doesn’t it?”

“I-it… it hurts,” Tweek said, his voice growing smaller. But his dick was still hard, Craig could see it, twitching faintly where it hung full and heavy between his legs. He curved his hand forward so he could rub the heel of it up against those cute, plump balls and the base of his cock.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Craig murmured into his ear. “I think you’re lying. I think it feels good. It feels good, look how hard you are.” He shifted his hand, and curved the finger up into him, feeling around until it settled against his prostate. He rubbed it in slow circles, almost mockingly. Tweek began to cry again as he helplessly spread his legs wider and rocked back against it. “Yeah,” Craig whispered to him. “Yeah, feel good? I know it feels good, baby.”

“Yes,” Tweek whispered, tears of shame rolling down his cheeks, and he nodded quickly. “Yes,” he said again, and sobbed quietly.

“I’m gonna make you come,” Craig whispered into his ear. “It’s not rape, because it feels good, and you like it. You like it, and you’re gonna come.”

“No,” Tweek choked out. “I… I don’t want it, I don’t want it. Please stop, please.” Craig didn’t stop, of course, and he watched with deep satisfaction as precum started to leak out of his prick, dribbling onto the tile. “I don’t want it,” sobbed Tweek.

“Shhh,” Craig whispered. “Yes you do. Look how hard and wet you are. You’re dripping. You’re making another mess, because you want it so bad.” Tweek fiercely shook his head, his asshole throbbing and hot around Craig’s finger, and Craig knew just how sensitive Tweek was. It was making him hard as a fucking rock. He rolled his fingertip over the swollen gland, back and forth, and tickled at it, and Tweek was rolling his hips, too, and crying. Craig nuzzled into his neck. “Yeah,” he breathed out. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. See, it’s not rape. It’s not rape.” Tweek moaned helplessly.

“I c— I can’t— I—” He pressed his forehead into the wall, and cried, his pelvis rocking back and forth seemingly of its own accord. Craig knew what was happening, because his hole was flexing around him, fluids drizzling steadily from the head of Tweek’s cock. “Stop,” he begged, through his tears. “I-it’s too much, I can’t, I can’t, oh god I can’t stop coming… please, please…” His legs buckled beneath him, and Craig was there to catch him; he carefully lowered them both to the floor. His finger still squirmed within Tweek’s body and Tweek wailed, the spray hitting his face and hair, and Craig finally decided he’d had enough.

But only because he wanted to fuck him.

He eased his finger out and washed his hands under the spray; then he was taking Tweek by the shoulders, turning him around, guiding him up until his face was level with Craig’s groin. Craig ran a hand over his slick, wet hair and cupped the back of his head, urging him forward. His hard cock brushed along Tweek’s chin and Tweek whimpered.

“No,” he said softly. “No, please.” His body was still wracked with tremors, even with the warm water that cascaded over his skin.

“C’mon, baby,” Craig coaxed him. “Suck my dick.” When Tweek turned his face away, Craig sighed, then grabbed him by the hair and shoved his pelvis forward. “I said,” he growled more fiercely, “suck my dick.

“No!” Tweek cried. “No, I can’t, I don’t want to! Please don’t make me do that!”

Craig grasped him by the chin. With his other hand, he gripped himself at the hilt and slapped his cock across Tweek’s face. “Open your mouth,” he instructed. Tweek bowed his head, another fresh wave of sobs escaping him. Craig forced him up again, and shoved the head of his prick against Tweek’s parted lips. They opened, and he thought he felt the flicker of his tongue, but then it slackened. He tangled his fingers in the damp golden waves of his hair and shoved him down.

Tweek choked and sputtered, his face flushed. Loud whines sounded in the back of his throat, which meant he could still breathe after all.

“Shut up,” Craig said. “Breathe through your nose. If you’re good, I might give your arms a break.” His captive’s eyes fluttered shut, and he sucked noisily, sloppily on the length of him as it eased in and out of his throat. A few tears escaped his eyes as he squeezed them tightly shut, and Craig brushed one of them away with his thumb. “Don’t cry,” he murmured, and then swallowed thickly before adding, “it’s not gonna change my mind.” This brought out another pathetic whine, one that bordered on indignant. Craig was tempted to slap him, but then quickly remembered that even in their games Tweek startled easily sometimes, and he didn’t want to get bitten. Instead, he patted him on the back of his head. “Look up at me,” he said.

Mm-mmh!” Tweek’s head gave a little shake, and he made a refusing whine. Craig grasped him tight by the jaw to hold him still.

“I didn’t ask you to,” he said. “I said to open your eyes.”

He did so, chest heaving with the quick breaths that dragged through his nostrils, and Craig expected to see his eyes wide and glistening with fear. Instead, they were hazy, and dilated, clouded with a lust and love so familiar that it shook him all the way to his core. He was speechless. His lover held his gaze for a few heart-stopping seconds, and then Craig’s eyes fell shut. He groaned, long and deep. The suckling intensified, as if in earnest, Tweek’s whines shifting into soft whimpers of delight as Craig fucked into his mouth.

“I’m gonna come,” Craig grunted out, as it fell upon him suddenly. His fingers tightened in Tweek’s hair and his hips quivered as he held himself there, gasping, spilling down his throat. He let go when he was done and pulled himself out, still half-hard, the length of him shining and wet. “Fuck,” he panted.

Tweek’s teeth sank into his lip, and then he hung his head. A sudden and unanticipated flare of post-orgasmic vulnerability struck Craig in the chest; it manifested into a sympathy that overwhelmed him. He hastily undid the knots of the rope and let it all fall away from Tweek’s body—the rope and his ruined shirt—they collapsed to the shower floor with a wet splat. Craig rubbed his hands over Tweek’s arms. Maybe he should end it here—but no, no, he hadn’t even gotten to the main course. And that was what Tweek truly wanted of him. But had he overworked him already? He smoothed a hand through his captive’s hair.

“Please,” Tweek whispered. Craig reached up and turned off the spray. He was shivering. “Please let me go.”

He didn’t want to stop playing yet. Craig let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“No,” he said, simply. Tweek’s eyes shot open, and as soon as they both stepped out of the shower, he tried to make another pathetic run for it—again. It was a miracle he didn’t slip and fall on the tile of the bathroom, and Craig was actually amazed, but he was also after him in an instant, arms wrapped around his middle. “No,” he said again, more harshly, as Tweek wiggled and shrieked. He brought up a hand and pressed it against Tweek’s throat, curved it there threateningly. It startled even himself, and Tweek went still. His eyes were wide. “You know what I told you,” Craig reminded. “You want me to fuckin’ kill you? I said I’d kill you if you tried, and what did you do.”

Nn… no,” Tweek gasped out. Craig pressed his hand there against his windpipe—just a little—just a taste. He felt Tweek wheeze against him.

“Too bad you didn’t listen,” said Craig. Tweek was trembling in his grasp.

“Please,” he begged. “Please don’t.”

“That all depends,” Craig said calmly, and he began to lead him, through the cabin back toward the bedroom. “That depends on how good you are. We’re gonna finish what we started.”

“What did we start?” Tweek asked, meekly.

“I think you know,” answered Craig. When they got to the bedroom, he said, “get up on the bed. Get up there, or I’ll kill you.”

With a whimper, Tweek did as he was told; he clambered up onto the bed and wrapped his arms around himself. He was shivering, still damp; Craig watched a few droplets of water slide down his naked back and smiled with appreciation before opening up the nightstand. Tweek gasped, his eyes growing wide when he saw what lay in Craig’s hands: two pairs of metal handcuffs. “W-what are you doing? ” he cried.

“You tried to escape after I freed your arms,” said Craig. “So you don’t get to have them anymore.”

“Oh, no,” Tweek protested weakly. “Please, no!” Craig pressed a hand between his freckled shoulderblades and urged him forward. Tweek whined but he followed that implicit order; Craig locked first one wrist to one of the bedposts, then did the same on the opposite side. Tweek sagged limply against his bonds, and Craig was treated to a full view of his back and his ass, laid out before him. He couldn’t help but grin a little to himself. He dragged his hands down the expanse of Tweek’s back and roughly gripped his cheeks, spreading them apart. “No,” cried Tweek.

“Shut up,” said Craig, and he gave his tenderized ass another slap. It was still pinkened from the torment it received earlier, and Tweek yelped as he attempted to squirm away. “You’re lucky I didn’t just cuff your wrists and ankles together,” Craig pointed out.

“Please,” Tweek whined again, helplessly. Craig struck him on the ass again and he jolted. “W-what’re you gonna do to me, please, don’t hurt me.”

“Whatever the fuck I want,” said Craig. “Spread your legs.” When Tweek hesitated, he smacked one of his thighs and watched in smug satisfaction as they jerked apart. “Good,” he said. “That’s better.” He licked the pad of his thumb and pried it up into Tweek’s hole, making him squeal.

“No,” he fussed, “please!

“Guess I didn’t open you up good enough,” Craig reflected, pulling his hand away and reaching for the nightstand again. The knife gleamed dangerously up at him, but it was the lubricant he grabbed; he slicked himself, thickened in his hand before gripping it tight in his fist and nudging it up against the flushed hole that he knew had been waiting for him all along. Tweek cried out when the tip of him opened it up and pressed into his body.

“Oh, god,” he wailed. “No!

“Shhh,” Craig whispered, working his way in with quick, shallow little thrusts that coaxed the muscles to pull him further inside. The knife called to him again, moonlight glinting off the blade, or perhaps that was Craig’s imagination, set on overdrive after the game Tweek continued to put upon him. He picked it up and, very carefully, traced the serrated edge over the quivering muscles of Tweek’s back. Everything in him went rigid, and he heard Tweek suck in his breath—yet he still hadn’t invoked the word. Craig lightly tapped the blade against his skin.

“Better not struggle too much,” he warned as it drew over his shoulder. “Don’t wanna get cut, now do you?” An image of himself teasingly laying it against Tweek’s throat while he fucked him senseless flashed through his mind and sent an excited throb through his lower body, but then almost immediately Craig’s stomach clenched at the thought. What the Hell was wrong with him?

Tweek said nothing, only shivered, and hissed as the blade traced over the nape of his neck, then slowly down his back. Giving in to his better nature, Craig set it aside and kissed over the skin, feeling the warmth of him, the shape of his bones. Tweek moaned beneath him and arched his back, and that did it; Craig couldn’t take anymore. He clutched at his hips and moved against him, in him, and Tweek started to cry again. Craig had enjoyed hearing it, tasting his tears, but nothing they’d played at tonight could possibly have compared to this. It was desperate and intense and it terrified him, how much he wanted it, how sick and predatory he’d become, but he couldn’t stop, didn’t want to—and he sank his teeth into the back of Tweek’s neck, sucked hungrily at the skin. His captive struggled beneath him even as they both knew it would be in vain, and the chains rattled against the wood of the bedposts.

Please,” Tweek finally rasped out. He was starting to lose his voice from all the shrieking and crying and pleading he'd done, and yet there he was, begging until the bitter end. Fighting until the bitter end. There was something admirable about that: prey that refused to go out quietly. It only made Craig want to fuck him harder, and he did, letting go of the weirdly animalistic hold he had on Tweek’s neck to sink his teeth into the back of a shoulder instead. He really did taste good.

No,” Tweek choked out. “No! No!

Yes, Craig wanted to say back, but he decided silence would be the ultimate weapon now. A violator who would be unmoving, unconvinced, as if his victim were just a toy put there for his pleasure, to be filled and fucked. That was what he was after, wasn't it? And Craig was losing his voice, too, anyhow, because he was so tangled up in the sweetness and the heat and the rush of how this was doing his head in, he couldn't find the words, anyway. He could barely remember to breathe in the first place. He held him tightly by the hips, this willing hostage of his, as he rutted up against him in quick sharp bursts.

“Please,” Tweek protested weakly, again, and his voice broke. He pressed his face into the pillow and cried again, his whole body trembling, but he was also opening up to him, and squeezing him, even as he sobbed out no, no, no into the bed over and over. It squeaked and thudded beneath their mingled weight, their movements, and the chains rang out, over and over. “Stop,” he choked out again. “Stop, don't— ah, God, fuck!

Craig’s mouth found its way into the crook of Tweek’s neck and bit down. You don't want me to stop, he thought, triumphant, crazed. You want this. You want this and you love this. He slowed down and sat up, breathing in deep, shaking drags. His prisoner’s body was in his hands, and he pulled his ass back, forced him to lift it. It gave Craig the impetus he needed to drive up all the way inside, and ease his way out—then in—again and again. Every time he pierced him like that, it earned him a sharp cry for his efforts, and then it really seemed like Tweek couldn't take it anymore, because he was greedily pushing himself backwards, hips circling lewdly.

“You don't want me to stop,” Craig finally managed to say. “You wanna get raped.” Tweek’s ass flexed into him.

Ahhhuhhh,” he went, which Craig wasn't entirely sure if it was an affirmative noise or just a noise, but he grabbed him by the hair anyway, and pushed into him again. Tweek squealed prettily beneath him. “Rrrrh—”

“What?” Craig prompted him, thrusting forward faster and faster, until the bed was thumping against the wall again, and the chains were rattling, and his fingers were tight in messy gold curls, and he was going to lose his fucking mind (assuming he had one left at that point, anyway).

Rrraahh rape!” Tweek cried, bucking his hips back. “Rape!

“Yeah,” Craig gasped, and he pressed his nose into the nape of his neck. He could smell sweat, and skin, and musk, and it was killing him. “Yeah you like that. You want me to fuckin’ rape you.”

Rape,” Tweek choked out again, and then made a strange little gurgling sound as he clenched his teeth into the pillowcase. Craig didn't want that, not now. He wanted to lose himself in his screams. He reached over and yanked it away from him. Tweek seemed to get why, or maybe he was just that much into it, because he shrieked again when Craig's pelvis snapped up against his backside, and Craig yanked him back by the hair.

“You wanna get raped,” he said again. “You like that, you little bitch?”

Yeah,” breathed out his victim. His love. “Yeah, fuck, I can't—”

“You like being raped?”

Yeah!” Tweek choked out again, this time much louder. “Yeah, rape me Craig, fuck me, just fucking wreck me, please!

“Yeah,” Craig whispered, and then he was fucking him harder than he could ever remember, and Tweek screamed beneath him, rasping guttural sounds that filled the room and scraped against Craig's ears. In that moment, he had no other reason for existing. He reached beneath the sweaty mess of Tweek’s body and found his half-hard cock, laid his palm flat against it, and Tweek mewled in delight.

S-s-ssstop,” he hissed out. “Stop, sir, please.” But of course, Craig didn't; he drilled into that delectable little ass and let Tweek glide his dick over his hot sweating hand, felt it thicken and twitch and leak, and his fingertips brushed along the slick head. Tweek yipped and twisted his hips away in that manner he did whenever he was overstimulated, but Craig wouldn't let him escape, not this time, and he seized him by the hip with his other hand. “God!” Tweek wailed.

“Come,” Craig growled into his ear. “Gonna— gonna make you. Gonna rape you.”

No!” Tweek cried. But he was helpless to it, hips rolling desperately, and he kept on sobbing out no please no until everything in him ceased, like a sudden blackout, and then he wailed as pulses of wet spread between Craig's fingers. His ass spasmed deliciously around Craig's dick and while he'd planned to pull out and jerk it all over Tweek's ass, his own orgasm caught him by surprise. He clutched at Tweek tight and moaned into his back until the waves subsided, and then he pressed his face into him there to catch his breath.

Tweek was quivering beneath him, his breathing ragged, voice broken on his sobs. Panic flared up in Craig, past the euphoria that had settled over him like a blanket, and he immediately snatched up the key and unlocked the cuffs. “Shhh,” he whispered into the nape of his neck. “It’s over now. It’s me again. It’s me, honey. Shhh…” He rubbed at Tweek's arms while he pressed his face into Craig's broad shoulder and wept. The reality of what he’d done, it started to come back to him then. He was trembling, too, and he suddenly threw his arms around his partner and hugged him tight.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed into his hair, kissing him over and over. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Oh, god, I’m so sorry…” Tears prickled in his eyes, and then they were spilling, fuck. He sniffled louder than he’d intended, and didn’t even notice that his lover had stopped crying until he felt lips press against his temple.

“No, no,” came the whisper. “Don’t be. Don’t be, I loved it, I loved it!”

“I didn’t fuck up?” He felt like a stupid, pathetic child, his voice thick and broken at once.

“No!” Tweek sort of laughed the word out before Craig felt long fingers against his scalp. “I would’ve used the safeword if it was too much, man! You know that!” Craig said nothing, only buried his face into the crook of his neck. “You were so good,” Tweek murmured as he sobbed quietly into him. “You were so good, I love you so much. I love you, it’s okay. It’s okay…”

“I’m a monster,” Craig choked out wetly. He couldn’t see it, but he felt Tweek rapidly shake his head, back and forth. Craig clung to him.

“No,” Tweek was saying. “It was pretend, remember?”

“S-sorry,” Craig mumbled after a couple moments, and collected himself enough to scrub a fist across his eyes. He sniffled, feeling rather dumb. “Sorry, just. Never did that before. I got scared a few times that I was actually fucking with your head.”

Nuh-uh,” Tweek insisted. “I was so into it, couldn’t you tell?”

He did. Those cracks in the facade had been like lifelines. Craig tried to grasp onto them again. “Yeah,” he said, and reached for a tissue.

“It felt good,” Tweek whispered, nuzzling behind his ear. “It felt so good, and that’s why you were into it too. Because you knew I liked it!”

“You’re right,” Craig mumbled after wiping his nose. “That makes perfect sense.”

“Oh, god,” Tweek said, pressing a hand to his chest. “I still can't believe we actually did that. Jesus, Craig!” He laughed again. “You were so fucking hot.”

“I want to take care of you.” Craig smoothed his hands over Tweek’s back, down the curve of his ass. “I'm gonna go run a bath, okay?”

Craig,” Tweek exclaimed with a wave of his hand. “C’mon, man, I'm fine, really!” But the desperate ache in Craig's chest must have translated into his face somehow, because Tweek immediately relented. “Okay,” he said quickly, with a little shake of his head. “Okay. Um… a bath actually sounds nice, sure, Craig.”

Craig didn't even realize how badly he needed it until Tweek acquiesced to the idea of being cared for, and the relief rolled over him in waves. He headed into the bathroom: drew the bath and made it sleepily warm, dropped in one of those silly bath-bombs that Tweek forcefully got him into, and then went back to retrieve him. Tweek was lying on the bed with his arms folded behind his head, his eyelids heavy. Craig couldn't recall a moment when he felt this ridiculously, stupidly in love, but he also sensed that he'd probably felt this sentiment quite a few times with Tweek, and there'd likely be even more overwhelming moments in the future that would overshadow this one.

When Tweek saw Craig's silhouette in the doorway, he sat up but didn't move an inch to remove himself from the bed. Craig reached under his slender form and scooped him up, and Tweek laughed and wrapped all of his long limbs around him. “Where the Hell are we, anyway?” was the first thing out of Tweek’s mouth once they were settled in the tub together.

“I rented a cabin.” Craig smoothed his hands down his spine. “So I’m gonna rape you all weekend.”

Mmm.” Tweek grinned, and then barked out a laugh, as if he couldn't believe his ears. “What the fuck! Craig!

“Yeah right, you like the sound of that, don’t you. You nasty little shit.” Craig reached down into the water and pinched the top of his ass. Tweek yelped in surprise.

“I’m your nasty little shit!”

“Happy anniversary,” Craig said dryly, and began to lather up his hair.