
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6512644.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      South_Park
  Relationship:
      Stan_Marsh/Craig_Tucker
  Character:
      Stan_Marsh, Craig_Tucker
  Additional Tags:
      Drunken_night, Cigarettes, Smoking, Shotgunning, gentle_handy, Hand_Jobs,
      Sloppy_Makeouts
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-10 Words: 1427
****** 3:49AM, A Drunken Night ******
by eggobangg
Summary
     Stan doesn't remember a lot about his night. Hell, if he remembers
     anything.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
It’s nearly 3:45 in the morning and Stan is stumbling through the city, bobbing
and weaving all over the sidewalk and sometimes into the deserted roads. Neon
lights from diners and the bright traffic lights blinking on and off were
coaxing him down the grid of pavement, telling him to go somewhere new and
undiscovered to his drunken body. Stan stops at a corner and looks around,
confused for a moment. Where the fuck was he? Stan rarely knew where “the fuck”
he was anymore. He had found himself drinking more often than not. It wasn’t an
uncommon occurrence for Stan to be moseying through the streets late at night,
though tonight was a little different from the rest of his depressing drunken
nights. Instead of going back home, Stan found himself wandering through a
different part of town. His body stumbling toward a destination he knew from
other drunken 3am walks. As Stan staggered past house after house he came to a
familiar sight. He walked up the drive gracelessly and knocked on the door
softly at first, teetering back and forth waiting for a minute. He knocked
again, louder this time. Stan looked down at his shoes, coated in snow. After a
few, Stan could vaguely hear the clicking of the locks on the door before Craig
opened it. Craig’s hair was messy and he looked excruciatingly tired, just
being awoken from his slumber.
“Stan… What the fuck?” Craig spoke groggily. Stan looked us from his feet
toward Craig’s face. He looked Craig up and down and felt bad that he had even
knocked in the first place. Stan knew it was late and he knew he shouldn’t have
knocked but there he was, standing on Craig’s doorstep and feeling sorry that
he had done anything.
“Dude it’s… 3:49 in the morning. Why are you here? Go the fuck home.” Craig
whispered sternly. Stan still stood there, thinking about what Craig had said
to him. Go home? He had been out of the house all night before and he doubted
that his parents cared. Craig looked Stan over and realized how sad this
display really was. His childhood rival, there at his door, shivering and
saying nothing. Craig mulled over this sight and after a few he decided that it
was going to be better if he brought him in instead of letting him freeze
outside. Stan was only a human too, the least Craig could do was show a little
compassion.
“Okay, come inside.” Craig said defeated. Stan moved sloppily through the
doorway and somehow made it inside without tripping. Craig led the drunken one
through what seemed to be a maze of a house. The alcohol was really fucking
with Stan’s head, making his depth perception not too great. The two got to a
door and Craig opened it up and pulled him inside the room.
The walls were decorated with space posters and the ceiling had little glow-in-
the-dark stars on it. Craig went over to a box on his dresser and pulled out a
pack of cigarettes. He located the lighter within the same small container then
sat on the disheveled bed. Craig knew his parents didn’t like him smoking
inside, but it was too damn cold to enjoy a smoke outside the house. Stan stood
in the center of the room awkwardly while Craig lit his cigarette. Craig
inhaled and let out a cloud of smoke.
“You gonna just stand there in the middle of my room or are you gonna chill out
a little?” Craig questioned. Stan shuffled over to Craig’s bed and plopped onto
the edge. Craig took another drag off his cigarette while Stan sat, observing
silently. He watched the way Craig’s fingers held the paper in between them and
how his lips curled over the filter when he pulled more smoke into his lungs.
Stan was admiring the little details about the way Craig smoked. Craig seemed
to notice the staring and turned to see Stan focused on the cigarette hanging
from his lips.
“What, you want some?” Craig inquired of Stan. Stan did a kind of half nod but
he didn’t know if he was dead set on doing anything yet. Craig took yet another
drag and blew it up toward the ceiling when he exhaled. Stan kept watching.
Craig got fed up with the staring and after breathing in he blew a billow of
smoke into Stan’s red flushed face before turning away. Stan choked a little
but he knew he wanted more. He wanted more in his lungs and honestly he didn’t
know how to go about it. Craig peered over again, Stan still zeroed in on his
cigarette. Craig thought that he would just give him another one but he didn’t
know if Stan would smoke the whole thing, so he didn’t. He knew of a technique
used by couples who smoked but he didn’t know if Stan would be alright with it.
The final thought Craig had was “fuck it.”
Craig gently grabbed Stan’s cheeks, guiding Stan’s face toward his own. “Stan,
here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to take a drag from my cigarette
and when I exhale, I need you to bring your face close to mine and inhale.”
Stan nodded slowly. Craig brought the smoke to his lips shakily and inhaled
slowly. He held the smoke in his mouth for a second and Stan brought his face
closer. Craig breathed out steadily and Stan did as he was told, inhaling the
plume of smoke. They repeated, making the tunnel with their lips. Stan
unintentionally leaned too far forward, pressing his lips to Craig’s. He pulled
his head back quickly. Craig put out his cigarette in the ashtray next to his
bed. Stan looked at Craig and watched his expression. Craig’s cheeks were a
darkening shade of pink and he swiftly grabbed the back of Stan’s head and
crashed their lips together.
The kiss was heated and all sorts of intense. The whole thing was unthinkable
to both of them. Making out with the guy who is the leader of the rival gang of
his own, who’da thunk! Stan gave Craig’s hair a light tug, earning a gasp from
him. Craig pulled Stan further onto the bed, propping him up against the
windowsill and wall.
Their tongues easily mingled and Craig’s hand gently slid down Stan’s front.
Craig pushed up Stan’s jacket and shirt and started to to undo the button and
zipper to his pants. He looked at Stan, and he nodded. Craig palpated the bulge
in Stan’s pants through his jeans. Stan exhaled a long, shaky breath as Craig
repeated this motion again and again. Craig moved his hand under the first
layer of fabric and stroked Stan through his briefs. Stan groped at the sheets
on Craig’s bed and Craig pulled at the waistband of Stan’s underwear, pushing
his hand inside. Craig’s hand was a little cold but it wasn’t unpleasant to
Stan, and he rolled his hips up into Craig’s touch. Craig pulled Stan’s briefs
down a little, exposing Stan’s dick to the cooler air around them. Stan’s body
became rigid for an instant after being introduced to the temperature, but
quickly relaxed after.
Craig traced his fingers up Stan’s length and wrapped his hand around him
gracefully, giving a couple quick flicks. Stan tilted his head back trying to
breathe steadily, but it wasn’t working. Craig slowly pumped his shaft. As he
continued, Stan made small breathy noises and his hips lifted off the mattress,
grinding into Craig’s hand. Stan was getting close and Craig could tell, his
breaths getting shallower and quicker.
This was wrong. Craig knew he shouldn’t have done this. It was wrong to do this
and he knew it. Stan was drunk as fuck and he probably wouldn’t remember most
of it. He had to put an end to this.
“Stan…” Craig said after some consideration. Stan’s eyes opened slowly and he
raised his head to look at him.
“Get out of my house.”
Stan was stunned. Dick out and all.
After Stan had put himself back together he walked toward the front door of
Craig’s house. Craig stood at the door while Stan walked from the steps back
out into the cold and made his way to a destination unknown to Craig. He didn’t
know what would become of this and the other 3am events. He just knew it was
going to get a hell of a lot harder if it kept ending like this.
End Notes
     hey dudes, this is my first fic, hope it was cool n stuff
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
