Chapter Text
“You ready to head to set, dude?”
Craig sighed at his reflection in the mirror. Old Adidas sweats and a plain navy tee, same old harsh features, cropped black hair.
“I guess.”
He turned to Kenny, grimacing at the sight of that shit-eating grin he was always wearing these days, now that they’d “made it”, to a certain extent, within their industry.
“Fresh meat today,” Kenny reminded him with a little waggle of his brows.
The sunny weather here was doing wonders for his complexion; he looked like some hot surfer, with his tanned skin, golden blond hair, and newly whitened teeth. Craig couldn’t help feeling out of place next to him, but they were always casting them in scenes together.
Craig suspected they might not hire him nearly as much if he and Kenny didn’t have the working relationship they did, and maybe his being less appealing as a solo performer was holding Kenny back. Not that Kenny seemed the least bit displeased with their situation.
Of course his old friend would be thrilled to be a hot, in-demand porn star in LA instead of rotting away in that dilapidated drug den his parents called a home, and it’s not like Craig’s folks had enough money saved for college tuition.
But Craig was not a charismatic performer like Kenny, nor was he particularly skilled at being comfortable around the other actors, or making the other actors comfortable around him.
He looked good enough, or he must, for him to keep getting cast despite his dead fish affect and inability to smile on cue, or even to look enthused at the prospect of fucking. Or maybe he just fucked good enough, but whatever paid the bills.
“You wanna drive?” Kenny asked, dangling the keys in front of Craig’s face.
Kenny was good at distracting him, in the way a babysitter might be good at distracting a kid old enough to know he’s being patronized. It worked, but he didn’t like that it worked.
“No, you drive. Just, like a normal person this time, if you don’t mind,” Craig said dryly.
“No idea what you’re talking about, dude,” Kenny chirped, theatrically opening the door for Craig.
Craig smiled sarcastically at him, but booked it out the door. Being on time was another feature of booking porn actor Craig Tucker. He’s not just a dour face and a big dick. He’ll also show up.
“After you, m’lady,” Kenny said with a flourish of his hand.
“Just come on,” Craig complained.
Deep down, he knew Kenny’s doofus act was a good distraction from the crushing emptiness in his chest, and he knew Kenny knew it, too. If the roles were reversed, and Kenny were the mopey loser one, Craig would certainly be no help. But the roles were never reversed.
Kenny did drive like a maniac, but they were early to set, and Craig had time to situate himself before the new guy showed up. Under normal circumstances, were it an established porn actor, Craig and Kenny could search his name, see what he looked like, review his body of work—as any professional would. This kid was brand new, but they knew from the casting agent he was blond, 5’7” and 123 lbs, and they were to double team him, “but no DP—this is his first scene.”
It was weird the kid wouldn’t start with solo vids. Probably needed money right away; maybe a meth head, given his small stature. It didn’t matter one way or another to Craig.
“Hydrate, dude. We got a little twink to break in.” Kenny handed him a mini water bottle, a glint in his eye. Craig opened his mouth to say something in response, but couldn’t think of a thing.
He didn’t need to, as it turned out, as their expected and almost certainly drug-addled guest arrived right on time, bursting through the door with an odd shriek, as if his own arrival had startled him. Observing him as he spoke with a crew member, Craig noted he was tiny, perpetually in motion, and had ridiculous hair.
He looked to his friend and found a Cheshire cat grin firmly in place on his face. Kenny loved a weird little blond. Craig suspected it was born of some misplaced autosexual urge.
Out of the corner of his eye, Craig saw the kid finish up with the set director and head over to the “talent”—that is, Kenny and Craig’s dumb asses. He raised one hand in an awkward half-wave as he approached them.
“Ngh, hey, I’m Tweek.”
“Tweek? That’s cute.”
Of course Kenny would find that cute. His last little industry crush was one Leopold “Butters” Stotch.
“Yeah, urgh, Tweek Tweak. Nice, nnnh, meeting you guys.”
“Your name is Tweek Tweak,” Craig deadpanned.
“Yeah, that’s my legal name! Ngh, you wanna see ID or something, man?” Kid sure agitated easily.
“No, man. Just sounds like your parents were crackheads who hated you. Why would you use that name.”
Tweek glared furiously at him. “Fuck you, dude!”
He stormed off to the bathroom. There was hardly time for sensitivity; the shoot was scheduled to start in 3 minutes.
“Nice one, dude.” Kenny clapped him on the shoulder.
“You really think his name is Tweek Tweak.”
“I mean, probably! Maybe his folks are ice heads. You ain’t gotta be a dick about it.”
Craig scoffed because Kenny was right, but he was also right that it was a stupid name, and even if he truly had been cursed with it at birth, there was no reason to be giving it out now. Was “Tweek” seriously going to use that name in this business? Did he want to only shoot for those sketchy meth gangbang studios?
“Alright, McCormick, Tucker, show time. Where’s the new kid?”
The director’s assistant looked like his name was Vinny and he ate only Italian grinders.
“Bathroom,” Craig told Vinny flatly.
“Well, what the fuck is he doing in there. Go get his ass.”
Vinny was a dick, Craig decided. He narrowed his eyes at him, but Vinny didn’t seem to care what some pissy 20-year-old porn actor thought of his attitude, which was admirable. Kenny was pretending not to notice Craig looking to him, so he sighed and went after the kid himself.
He walked in and stood just inside the door. “Uh—Tweek. Scene’s starting.”
“Fuck off, man.”
“Look. I’m sorry your junkie parents gave you such a stupid name. But you’re not gonna be able to get your drug money if you don’t get in there.”
Tweek apparently actually was pissing, as he emerged from the stall glaring at Craig and went to wash his hands. Stone-faced, he dried his hands thoroughly in the air dryer and headed to the exit Craig was presently blocking. Suddenly, a skinny forearm slammed against Craig’s chest and Tweek was on his tiptoes so he could get right up in Craig’s face.
“You don’t, gah—you don’t fucking talk to me like that, okay, man?”
Then he pushed past Craig, leaving him in the bathroom to catch up mentally; this scrawny, chihuahua-like guy just threatened him and he let him.
He didn’t have time to figure out what that meant, nor was it likely he had to means to do so anyway.
Once he exited the bathroom, he spotted Tweek and Kenny already naked on set, seemingly exchanging easy banter. Tweek was smiling back, at least, and who knows what perverted shit Kenny was saying to him. He was small and pale next to Kenny; looked like the type of guy whose skin would pinken easily, which Craig didn’t need to start thinking about in that moment.
Vinny called out at him, “Craig, what are you doin’. Get the lead out, c’mon, let’s go.”
Craig felt yet another flash of frustration; he was never late and he wasn’t going to start now, so he shucked his pants and tugged his shirt off right there and just tossed them on top of Kenny’s shit.
As he got onto set, Tweek pretended not to notice him, just kept smiling at Kenny. But Kenny, ever the peace-keeper, reached out and slapped Craig’s shoulder.
“Alright, big guy?”
“Yeah.” The best. Why wouldn’t he be.
The crew began setting up for the shoot, so there was no need for any further attention to be paid to Craig’s mood, for which he was grateful. The set director was a woman who looked like she should be on her own porn set—tight pencil skirt, big fake tits, and glasses that looked fake. But she spoke softly and seemed familiar with their work, so Craig didn’t bother judging her any further than that.
“Kenny, Craig—you’ve done this exact scene countless times before. Tweek, this is all new for you, and I just want you to know that we can cut anytime if you need to stop, okay, sweetie?”
Tweek chewed on his thumbnail and nodded.
It was a simple scene; one they had indeed done countless times before. The twink would suck Craig off while Kenny fucked him, then they swapped. Craig had no idea how Tweek would take all that—another reason he hated new people. He was certainly aggressive, hot-headed, so maybe he was an active bottom, a big cock slut who’d know how to take a dick. Or maybe his unpleasant personality barred him from an active sex life, and this would be torturous for all involved. If Craig was being clear-headed about it, he could admit his own unpleasant personality certainly hadn’t stood in his way. But he'd also been in the industry for a few years now, only ever fucked for work, and everyone involved was paid. So maybe that didn’t count.
As Tweek was given the rundown, Craig and Kenny were directed to their sides of the sectional couch. Kenny made a goofy face and flapped his dick side to side to try to make Craig laugh; he cracked a smile, at least. Then Tweek was positioned between them, face to Craig’s dick, ass to Kenny. And he shot Craig a mischievous little grin that could only mean trouble.
“Alright, we’re all set! And, action!” the director said cheerily.
Tweek immediately got to work wrapping both of his small hands around Craig’s cock.
“You’re so big,” he said, biting his lip and looking up into Craig's eyes coquettishly. It was a basic line, and Craig already knew he was big, but it flustered him anyway. Because Tweek was mocking him.
So he grabbed him by the hair and shoved his head down to where his hands had already begun stroking him. Tweek just laughed, and extended his tongue while looking up at Craig through his lashes. Craig’s new narrative for this little shit was that he’d probably been sucking dick for drugs since he was 14. Nasty little junkie scum.
Even though it had been a cruel thought, the least charitable judgment he could come up with in the moment, Craig was soon convinced he wasn’t far off the mark. Within a minute, his cock was all the way down Tweek’s throat. He kept it nestled snugly in there, all the way in the depths of his throat, and swallowed around him, over and over again, groaning low in his throat like Craig was the best damn thing he’d ever tasted. He started sliding his throat up and down his shaft, sucking, swallowing everything the whole while, effectively fucking his own throat on Craig’s dick.
Craig felt like his brain was melting. He was never vocal during scenes, but he couldn’t stifle the small grunts and labored breaths this kid was forcibly dragging out of him.
“Fuck”—and he never spoke; he was suddenly self-conscious that he let Tweek—and everyone else—know how much this was affecting him.
Kenny had been just sort of watching, stroking Tweek’s sides, kissing his shoulders and back. Even though Craig was pretty preoccupied with having his soul sucked out through his dick, he noticed Kenny begin pressing kisses down the ridges of Tweek’s spine, til he reached his ass and spread his pale cheeks, grinning at the sight of his hole.
Kenny was excellent at analingus; this was just a fact. Tweek began moaning the second that dirty rat boy’s tongue swiped at his entrance. Craig’s cock was still lodged all the way down his throat, but the kid’s actions were stilled by the sudden attention being paid to his ass.
Well, if he was going to make it in porn, he’d need to learn to multitask. Craig gripped his hair harder and pulled out of his throat, Tweek releasing him with a gasp, and then Craig began thrusting in and out. Rather than the expert suction he had felt before stupid Kenny and his stupid professional ass-eating skills took over the whole scene, Tweek’s throat muscles were now vibrating around his cock in time with his gasps and moans.
It felt even better somehow, because Tweek was still trying to focus on sucking him off, fighting through his own pleasure, which Craig could feel being moaned and whimpered around him. It was like he was already overstimulated, and Kenny hadn’t even started fucking him yet. Craig didn’t know if he’d be able to take this sensation amplified any further; couldn’t even imagine how this kid would.
He hungrily gulped Craig down when his state of stimulation dwindled enough to allow it, and he moaned, seemingly delighted by the very act of sucking cock. The vibrations reverberated through Craig’s body, and he was starting to feel like an amateur. Even though Tweek was the one being penetrated on both ends, Craig felt like the vulnerable one, watching it all unfold. He was coming closer to his peak than he ever had before from a blowjob in a professional setting.
Along with his cock size and punctuality, Craig’s other big selling point was that he could fuck long and hard for a while before busting. He was never a premature ejaculator. Kenny had to train himself to last longer, and it was maybe the only thing Craig knew he had on him (along with a couple inches and some girth, but it’s not like Kenny didn’t know how to work what he had to the fullest).
But now he had to think about his grandma’s upper lip hairs and wrinkles, the way the sickly-sweet smell of her breath always grossed him out when his mom would make him kiss her goodbye as a kid.
Then Tweek whined and writhed as Kenny pierced his hole with his tongue, and Craig’s stomach lurched oddly as he felt a kind of nauseating heat spread through his face and groin.
“Okay, cut!”
Kenny promptly pulled his tongue out of Tweek’s hole, and he let out a muffled cry, mouth still sunk all the way down on Craig’s cock. Craig pulled out of him hard, too, roughly pushing him back by the forehead as he withdrew. Tweek seemed too dazed to protest, and Craig wasn’t even trying to be a jerk; he just needed out.
“Now, Tweek,” the director continued, “we’re gonna shoot the anal next—first Kenny, then Craig. You’ll keep sucking Craig off while Kenny takes you from behind, alright, sweetheart?”
“Mmhmm, okay,” Tweek breathed out, his cheeks flushed and damp hair plastered around his crown like some fucked-up halo. The stylist guy came over to towel sweat off his face and dry off his hairline. He fluffed those little blond baby hairs up a bit, eliciting a small titter from Tweek.
This kid was pissing Craig off. This job wasn’t fun; it wasn’t pleasurable. It was uncomfortable. Tweek was sure making him uncomfortable. He was unprofessional.
They always had Kenny go first in scenes like this because he was smaller and didn’t last as long—again, not that he didn’t make every inch and every minute count. Craig knew his stamina was one of the things casting directors liked about him, but beneath his superficial pride in having something, anything worthwhile to these people was his knowledge that he was practically anhedonic; he struggled to feel anything at all most days.
The stylist receded into the crowd of background crew and the scene was once again set. As Kenny and Tweek lubed up, Craig absent-mindedly pushed his dick down so it would thwap him in the stomach over and over out of boredom. He barely even noticed how Tweek bit his lip and whimpered as he prepped himself with spindly fingers.
“Alright, action!”
And they got right to it. Or Kenny did, at least. He’d always have some shit to say to the “talent”, and usually Craig appreciated that about him, because when it’s just him fucking someone alone, the silence can get a little “serial killer-y”, as one director put it.
Now, though, having to hear Kenny tell this weird little freak, “Yeah, you gonna be a good boy? Mmnh, gonna behave for this dick?” was pissing Craig off. He was not a good boy; he was a nasty little shit, and he was rude and overreactive. Unpredictable, unprofessional.
On the other hand, he was fresh meat, like Kenny said.
When Kenny pressed the tip of himself into Tweek, he cried out sharply, and Craig felt hot and wrong about the whole thing, but still grabbed him by the hair and led his open mouth to his dick again. Tweek was still in that sex daze he’d been in when they cut; he didn’t mind the rough treatment, at least right now.
He grabbed Craig’s dick and stroked it, almost gingerly, as if he hadn’t been effortlessly taking it hard down the throat just minutes prior. He kissed him lightly on the tip, being oddly tender with Craig in his hazy state. It made Craig ache in a way entirely foreign to him.
Kenny was taking his time working his way inside Tweek’s ass, each little thrust pulling a high-pitched cry from his throat.
“Yeah, that’s a good boy, takin’ it so good for me. Mmh, so nice and tight,” Kenny purred, rubbing his left hip.
Tweek whined as Kenny held still in his ass and continued kneading the flesh of his hip. He sucked hard on the head of Craig’s cock, probably in an attempt to distract him from having Kenny crammed up inside him.
Kenny pulled out just a little and began slowly rocking into him, and Tweek moaned and lightly rolled his hips back to meet him, his cheeks pinkening appealingly. He pulled more of Craig inside him with his hands and sucked hard, like the dick in his mouth could keep him anchored.
Even as he involuntarily moaned at the stimulus, Craig felt like a mere toy; it was a disorienting feeling, and he didn’t like Kenny right now, somewhere high up in his chest. He wasn’t supposed to be in there, and Craig wasn’t supposed to be this new kid’s comfort item, the baby blanket he sucked on when overwhelmed.
It seemed like he needed more loosening up than most, which made sense, but soon enough, Kenny began picking up his pace, rolling into him in that fluid, almost belly dancer-like way of his that always looked good on camera. Tweek arched in response, brows knit together with his eyes closed, purely a vessel experiencing this dual penetration.
Craig didn’t even feel like he was penetrating him; the focus Tweek now needed to take Kenny’s cock apparently made him an expert deep-throater once more. Again, Craig found himself fully engulfed; crammed all the way down as Tweek even managed to lick and suck his balls, drawing them into his mouth alternatingly. His whole body rocked back and forth, but he had Craig lodged deep in his throat, so Craig moved with him, forced to follow the rhythm Kenny was setting.
It was simultaneously the best and the worst Craig had ever felt in his life. He couldn’t explain it, nor could he think clearly at all. Pure pleasure radiated out from his groin, spread through his abdomen, and the familiar tingling behind his balls warned him that he might put a very poor showing forward if he didn’t extract himself now somehow. He couldn’t cum this early, not while Kenny was just getting started.
He would never be able to explain what thought process, if any, led him to this course of action, but Craig allowed saliva to gather in his mouth, and then spat directly onto Tweek’s face.
Immediately, instinctively, Tweek shrieked and scrubbed furiously at his eyes, where most of Craig’s saliva had unfortunately pooled. He pushed Kenny back and out of him with a little groan, and Kenny seemed only then to notice that something had gone down.
“Alright, cut—“
“Don’t fucking spit on me!” Tweek was suddenly upon him, and sucker punched him in the stomach, knocking Craig back. Tweek straddled him, gathered the rest of the spit on his face, and smeared it onto Craig’s.
“I told you, urgh, stop fucking with me, man!”
“Alright, boys, let’s break it up.” Savior Vinny kindly arrived to be useless and smell vaguely of stale armpit. He also had hand towels.
“Hey, kid, sometimes these things happen in the industry—body fluids just fly around, y’know? But you can’t be punchin’ people, alright? That could get you blacklisted if you’re not careful.”
“Nrgh.” Tweek was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring, and he glowered at Craig but did sit back off of him, and they both cleaned off their faces.
“Alright then. Director says that’s enough of Ken in the back; we’re switching sides—try to channel some of that anger, newbie. Craig’s a weird one, but he ain’t killed yet, far as we know.”
Craig did not enjoy hearing what people thought of him.
In this case, though, Vinny had no idea why Tweek was mad and that it really was justified, and this whole thing was going to be weird, but his stomach did a little flip-flop knowing he had the chance to make Tweek make those noises and turn that shade of pink because of him, not Kenny.
He was not proud of the means by which he achieved this and couldn’t explain his behavior, but it was definitely Tweek’s fault, because he’d never acted like this before he showed up.
Tweek avoided his gaze as they got into place for the next scene—Craig spooning Tweek from behind and Kenny kneeling on the couch fucking down his throat.
The director told Tweek how impressed they all were with his deep-throating skills and Tweek just let out a weird, “Augh,” at that, seeming generally agitated.
“Alright, well, let’s get started! Action!”
Craig knew he was at fault for Tweek’s mood, even though it was stupid Tweek’s fault in the first place, but either way, he spread his cheeks gently, and pressed the tip of his lubed-up dick to his pink little hole with care, like Tweek was a porcelain doll he did not want to break.
Tweek grunted and huffed as Craig pushed past that tight ring of muscle; it was like he didn’t want to let him in, and he probably didn’t, but they were professionals, or Craig was a professional, and Tweek would have to be one, starting today.
But he wasn’t used to this, so Craig kissed the back of his neck and nuzzled into his hair, as he held him open with one hand and gripped himself in the other.
“Come on. Open up for me,” he muttered low in Tweek’s ear.
And as he sucked on his neck right below his ear, Tweek gasped and his ass spasmed, but then relaxed around the head of Craig’s cock, allowing him to sink himself in that little bit more, and they both moaned, and it was perfect. He felt so hot and tight and perfect around his dick, even with barely any of him yet inside, but Craig could work with this. He’d made him feel good, that was what that noise meant, and he could make him feel great, the best. That would make all of this okay.
Ever-intuitive and accustomed to picking up on Craig’s various weird moods, Kenny was not shoving his dick into Tweek’s mouth yet, and the director didn’t call for him to start. He was just stroking himself lightly, watching, a few feet away. The camera was focused on Tweek’s cute, round, little ass, and on the dick soon to fill it up. That was just fine with Craig.
He curved his arm over Tweek’s bony hip and ran his fingers over his soft dick.
“Nnh,” Tweek let out, and Craig bit at the juncture between his neck and shoulder, and pushed in further, Tweek’s muscles flexing around him in response to all the stimuli. He felt impossibly tight, like Kenny had never fucked him at all, and that turned Craig on immeasurably, but he wasn’t going to cum; not yet, not until he’d made this right with Tweek, til he’d fucked it right back into him, that weird feeling Tweek gave him that make him act out like he had.
Tweek was panting and mewling as Craig jerked his now hard dick and pressed himself further inside in little thrusts he timed with harsh sucks of his neck and shoulder. He was leaving marks, which wasn’t really good etiquette in this industry, but that gut punch was surely going to leave a bruise, and Tweek tasted too good and responded too well for Craig to consider stopping. He really was very good, like Kenny said, behaving so well for Craig’s dick.
As Craig bit Tweek’s neck and swiped his thumb over the wet head of his cock, he bottomed out and Tweek let out the sweetest sound of anguish. Craig would never forget it, that sound he made when he was able to take all of him. Normally, he didn’t care about having such a big dick, but right now, he was proud to be able to fill Tweek up like this.
From the way he was shaking and gasping, his ass clenching and unclenching around Craig as he adjusted to his size, and the deep flush that now adorned his shoulders, the tips of his ears, and his cute little ass cheeks, Craig knew he’d never taken a dick this size before.
It felt like it was just Craig, had only ever been Craig; his head dropped back onto the couch, his eyes fell shut, and he panted at how turned on he was, being inside the enveloping warmth of this weird little stranger who hated him. As he stayed still, firmly buried to the hilt, Tweek let out little whimpers as he spasmed around him involuntarily, his whole body quivering.
Craig buried his face in Tweek’s hair and just breathed him in. It was probably creepy, but he couldn’t move yet and he felt the urge to get closer. He dragged his nose across Tweek’s scalp til he reached his ear. It burned hot between his lips and he bit at the lobe lightly, and Tweek whined and convulsed around him for a few seconds. He bit him again, harder this time, and it happened again, and then Tweek let out a little wail of defeat as he began rocking his hips back and forth, crying out at the way even that very slight movement stimulated him.
Still gripping his ear in his teeth, Craig held Tweek’s right hip still, pulled out of him a few inches and slammed back in hard. Tweek screamed. Craig let go of his ear, just buried his face in his neck and breathed in his scent, gripping his hip tightly enough to leave bruises in the shape of fingers—Craig’s fingers.
He began pulling halfway out only to shove himself back into his tight, spasming hole that much harder and deeper, and Tweek wailed out with every thrust. The cameras and Kenny no longer existed, it was just Tweek and Craig, just his dick and this kid struggling to take it, and he never wanted to stop fucking him, he’d fuck him until they pulled them apart.
“Oh, god—ngghh, Jesus,” Tweek whined out, and Craig curved his palm around his throat, just to feel those sounds reverberating through his body again. Tweek’s back arched like a bow and Craig tilted his chin up so he could look at his face. Eyes pressed shut tightly, cheeks deeply flushed, mouth open and crying out each time he slammed himself up into him. He stared entranced at his face; it bore the evidence of what he was doing to him, how he was affecting him.
The director said loudly, firmly, “Craig.”
Craig stilled inside him, but didn’t want to pull out. He didn’t even realize how loudly he was panting, until he stopped fucking him. He could feel Tweek’s pulse thrumming all around his cock and wondered if Tweek could feel him throbbing inside him too. It was hard to tell them apart.
“Prop him up in reverse cowboy and fuck him from below, okay? Maybe hold up his legs. You’re doing great work,” she said gently.
That was the first time he'd heard something like that, and he definitely wanted to fuck up into him from below, so he nodded, not trusting his voice to come out normally.
He didn’t want to pull out of Tweek, so he just scooped him up from under his thighs and shifted both of them onto their backs at the same time. Tweek let out a desperate moan at being moved with Craig’s cock still buried so deeply inside him. He wiggled and whined in Craig’s lap and Craig wrapped an arm around his chest so he could lie flat with his back on Craig’s chest. He now understood why the director suggested he hold up Tweek’s legs; they were shaking so badly—there was no way he’d be able to prop himself up on Craig’s thighs. For some reason, this made him want to kiss Tweek more than anything, but he couldn’t risk the possibility of rejection, of looking weak and stupid on camera any more than he already had. He was already making so much noise.
He hooked an arm under each of Tweek’s knees, spreading his legs and ass open for the camera, and so he could thrust into him better in this position. Tweek moaned at the way that slight position shift stimulated his hole and he clenched tightly around him, as if begging for it again. Craig obliged, slowly pumping his cock into him from below, as Tweek whimpered and cried. He couldn’t help it—he kissed the top of Tweek’s head and nuzzled into his spiky hair. It was so soft, he smelled so good; every part of him that Craig touched, kissed, fucked felt like it was aflame.
Craig wanted desperately to stroke him off, wanted to feel him come on his cock. But he couldn’t touch his dick and keep holding his legs in this position at the same time. So he hooked one arm under both of Tweek’s skinny legs and pulled them off to one side, freeing up his other hand to slide up his chest and play with his hard nipples for a minute. Tweek yelped and tried twisting his torso away from Craig’s wandering hand, so he pulled away (but, god, what he’d give to be able to suck on those hypersensitive little buds for a while), and instead slid his hand down to grab at his dick, which was currently wedged between his thighs and his flinching stomach. Craig dove his hand in there, too, gripping him firmly, and began jerking him hard.
“Come on. Come for me,” he commanded in a ragged voice.
Tweek sobbed at the overstimulation of it all. Craig stopped pounding into his ass so hard, instead grinding into him slow and deep as Tweek’s hole spasmed uncontrollably around his cock, his legs tensing and shaking violently in Craig’s arms, and he felt spurts of wet in the hand he had wedged between his thighs as Tweek choked on his moans, sounding absolutely wrecked. And then Craig was coming, too, harder than he ever had in his life, dumb animal brain wanting nothing more than to fill his ass to the brim with cum. Tweek began gasping and whining, trying in vain to jerk his hips away, having fully reached his limit for overstimulation, as he pumped that last bit inside him. Finally spent, he pulled out of Tweek with a groan, but spread one cheek with his free hand so the camera could capture his gaping hole, Craig’s cum dripping out of his ass.
The cameraman was directed to come in closer on Tweek’s ass, and then the director softly instructed Tweek to roll off of Craig and get on his hands and knees next to him on the couch, so he could push the cum out, “and then you’re done, kiddo!”
Craig leaned back out of the shot, heart pounding in his chest, and he felt that odd, hot feeling again when he saw how hard Tweek’s limbs shook as he attempted to hold himself up on his hands and knees. He seemed dazed, like before; his hair damp with sweat, his face flushed, eyes unfocused. Craig wanted to take care of him, which was stupid, because Craig did not want to take care of people. He didn’t even know how. And besides, he was responsible for the state Tweek now found himself in. That realization filled him with a dual sense of pride and shame, and Craig didn’t know what to do with that feeling.
Somehow, Tweek steadied himself enough to do what was asked of him. Craig could not tear his eyes away if he tried, as Tweek struggled to push all of his cum out of his ass, softly grunting, unable to keep his asshole from repeatedly flinching closed. Eventually, he got most of it out, and Craig watched in amazement as he gathered some on his fingers, brought them to his mouth, and sucked them clean, looking back at the camera coyly. After a moment, he noticed Craig’s gaze upon him, and turned back around quickly.
“Alright, wow! And we’re cut!” the director exclaimed, somewhere far away from Craig. “You did great—very intense scene, but they won’t all be like that, okay, sweetie?”
Tweek’s little murmured reply also sounded like it was underwater to Craig, and so he turned and left.
In a daze, he grabbed his clothes and pulled them on quickly, then found Kenny by the craft service table. Craig had no idea when he had even left the scene, what the director had said to him, if Kenny was even going to be paid in full for the day, or if Craig had fucked that up, too.
“Ready to go?” Kenny asked, no teasing or flourish this time, because he knew not to.
Craig nodded and followed Kenny out to the car. Kenny put on music, which was a good thing, because Craig wouldn’t have been able to hold a conversation in this state. It made him hot to think about watching that scene later, though he didn’t know if he would be able to endure the embarrassment, having lost his composure like that; he’d surely see signs of it in his every noise and gesture. And part of him worried, too, that he’d see that Tweek actually hated it, hated him, was in pain the whole time. And he didn’t know what he would do with himself if that were the case.
As they exited the car, Kenny said gently, “Intense scene, huh.”
“Yeah.”
And Kenny left him alone after that. Normally they’d fight over who got to shower first, but Craig just went back to his room, stripped off his clothes, and got under his covers naked, staring up at the ceiling blankly. For the first time in his life, he wanted to cry. But the tears wouldn’t come.