The ring was just one of those things South Park had that didn't belong. It was dusty and it sat in the gym for years probably. I doubt it crossed anyone's mind that you could actually use it, or at least that's what it was for me. Maybe nobody wanted to use it.

One day after one of my tantrums, Coach had said to me, 'You ought to take up a sport, relieve some of that preteen angst.' When I told him all the sports the school offered sucked and I hated teams because people sucked too, he suggested boxing. I told him no one in South Park boxes and he told me one person does.

I never asked Tweek how long he had practiced by himself before we started hitting together but he was fucking good. I've pretty much summed it up to natural talent and nonstop practice. He's real quick and agile, strong too. He knows where to hit you to take you out… or maybe he just knows my personal weak spots. He's smart like that. He's a little shit.

We usually practice late, after school and extracurricular activities. We prefer the gym to be empty when we box. People hardly use the gym anyways so no one's around any time after six and coach trusts us to lock up.

Plus, the best things happen when we're alone in the gym at night.

Like Tweek will put his hair in a headband, which he'll do occasionally in front of people, specifically coach, but he'll also throw it in a ponytail. That. I've only seen him wear, boxing alone in the gym late at night. He'll take his shirt off. He's more verbal. He gets intense. But the best part by far is what happens after the boxing.

I'm fucking battered. Tweek's always good but today he's fucking perfect. He's fast, precise, strong, and mad, I think. His jabs hit every soft spot with an unanticipated amount of force. Not to mention I'm slacking too. But, I just can't seem to focus. Tweek hits me in the ribs again in a spot he had hit before; the exact same fucking spot. It's hard not to flinch. It's almost like he's actually trying to hurt me.

Tweek swings and clips my jaw. He does it quite easily and without an ounce of remorse. I'm his bitch now. I might as well be a punching bag to him. I can't move my fists away from my face without getting hit in the jaw and if I cover my face he just aims for my abs and ribs. It's not fun anymore. I'm starting to get frustrated. It's time to put an end to this.

I dodge two more hits and take a swing. I make contact with his side and he retreats. Tweek comes at me again and I dodge. He gets a in a hit, I fake him out, and hit him from the other side. Tweek swears incoherently. We shuffle around, jumping at each other a few more times before Tweek goes in for another hit. I can tell he's playing it safe. He went from blows to the face to a quick little jab to my side. I mean it still hurts like hell, but, I had to give him that hit to throw my punch to his face. It hit him dead in the nose.

Tweek stumbles back, grabbing his face. He spits out his mouth guard. "What the fuck?!" he exclaims.

I pull my own mouth guard out of my mouth. "You left yourself wide open," I tell him, unraveling my hand wrap.

"Bastard," his nose starts to drip with blood and I laugh. "You get mad when you're losing and start playing dirty!" he accuses.

"You get mad when you've lost and start blaming me when you're really just mad at yourself for being careless. And for proving once more that I'm better than you."

Tweek glares at me, ripping off his hand wraps and grabbing his mouth guard from the ground. He climbs out of the ring, walking over to his bag. He tilts his head back, holding a towel to his nose.

"C'mon," I call. "Don't be a pussy," I say, running a hand through my drenched hair. It falls back into place however, sticking to my face. I try to catch my breath, watching the blonde curse and knock my water bottle off the bench. "That's cute," I say. He kicks off my bag as well. I climb through the ropes. "Are you tired? Wanna work out?"

He glances over his shoulder at me with a scowl. "Fuck you. I'm going home."

"Oh," I say, with a smirk. "Alright."

Tweek throws his bag over his shoulder and chugs from his water as he walks to the locker room. I collect my things from the ground and follow him. I enter behind him after locking up the front of the gym. "How'd you think you did on James's test today?"

"The same way I feel on every test he gives," Tweek answers simply, tossing his shirt over his head and onto the floor in front of his locker, spinning in the combination.

"He's such a salty old man," I lean against the half-lockers occupying the center of the room.

"I like Mr. James," Tweek says. "I think he's a stoner."

I laugh loudly, "He is! He has to be!"

"He's kinda like, a hippie. I think it's cool. It's like I get to see what someone from the sixties is like."

I nod, "Yeah, but these tests are killing me."

Tweek shrugs with his back towards me. He pulls his headband off and pulls his hair loose of his ponytail before setting them both in his locker. I approach him from behind slow enough for him to not notice.

I brush his hair away from his neck and kiss it. Tweek gives a start. I plant another kiss in the same spot, holding a little longer this time. Tweek begins to speak but I turn him around and push him into the lockers, trapping him with my lips. Tweek kisses back, melting into me. I press my body against his, closing the little gap that remained between us.

We were already heated from boxing and the tension. Unless I made that part up but Tweek's eyes are so enticing, especially when he's boxing. They get intense. Like they are right now. I pull back for a moment just to see them low and confused.

I hike Tweek up and he wraps his legs around me almost like a reflex. I carry him to the half-lockers and lay him down against them. I could stare into his eyes all day but apparently he can't stare into mine because he breaks the contact for a kiss. He slams his lips on mine, knitting his fingers in my hair, tugging me closer.

We move against each other how we know the other likes. Tweek pulls at my hair, dragging his nails across my skin, and I nip at his cheek before attacking his neck with open mouthed kisses and bites. We're actually quite fervent but this is how it always is. The only reason I didn't slam Tweek down was because last time I did he got pissed and slapped me. I get too excited. Ha. This is probably the best part of my day.

Tweek's hand in my hair yanks my head to the side to expose my neck to him. He runs his tongue up, stopping at a spot I know he's left a hickey before and somehow this makes the area more sensitive. He sucks lightly before sinking his teeth into my skin. I groan.

I like hair pulling, Tweek likes biting, and we both like nails. It's simple. We try not to complicate it.

I cram my hand between our bodies pushing past shorts and underwear to stroke his growing member. Tweek whimpers and arches again into my palm. I trail kisses over his chin, across his jaw, and to his neck. I take my time, letting my lips travel his freckled skin, discovering crooks and curves until they find the perfect spot. I tease his skin with my teeth light before biting down hard. Tweek completely unravels, just like I knew he would. Tweek moans and then covers his mouth with his hand. One of his legs kicks out of his shorts and boxers and grips my waist, pulling me in closer and his hands wrap around me. He digs his nails into my back and I grind us together. Tweek lets out a loud breath. "Craig."

His voice hangs in the air, gracing my ears. I grind against him again, wondering if I can get the same response. He whines, "Craig." My stomach tightens and I shut my eyes tightly, biting him harder. Tweek kicks his shorts the rest of the way off and I kick them out of the way. He grabs the waistband of my shorts and hums, "Take 'em off."

I mutely comply, reaching for my shorts with one hand, shimmying them off my hip and letting them drop around my ankles. Tweek looks down at me in only my jockstrap with large pupils. I move to take it off too but he stops me. "Keep it on." I raise an eyebrow at the blonde but I do as he says.

With Tweek's legs draped around my waist I can tell he's getting hard. While he abuses my neck, my hand finds his chest. I brush my thumb against his nipple until it's stiff and then I roll it between my fingers. Tweek gasps against me, reverting back to sucking lightly. I push Tweek back against the lockers on his back. He watches me drag my tongue down his chest until I reach his nipple again. I flick my tongue over it.

Tweek squirms and I smirk. I win here too, don't I? I take it in my mouth to leave a hickey because he left one on me and I know my mom's gonna make a big deal and I know Clyde and Kenny are gonna harass me and I also know that's fucking why he did it. Have fun not being able to take your shirt off in front of anyone, asshole. I play with his chest with my hand and my mouth until I can feel Tweek's member pressed against me.

I drag two fingers up his length and back down. Tweek switches to biting his knuckles while arching into my touch and my mouth which is still wrapped around his nipple. "Ah," he breathes. "Craig..." I graze him with my teeth. "Fuck." Tweek's head drops back against the lockers so I kiss along the underside of his jaw. I leave my hickeys where no one would see them. Not because I specifically don't want anyone to see them. I just don't want to inconvenience Tweek. Because I'm a gentleman. Tweek and I aren't hiding anything… If someone asked if we were together; well, no, because we aren't together or dating. If someone asked if we're sleeping together; uh, no, because we haven't slept together, we just mess around. But, if someone asked if we occasionally fuck around in the locker room after boxing then I'd be like, 'yeah, we do and it's fucking awesome,' but no one asks that.

Tweek grabs me by my hair, pulling my face up to his. Tweek sits up, kissing me and tightening his legs around me as we reposition. I grab his thighs and pull him closer on the lockers. We kiss and Tweek's nails glides down my side and around my back. He cups my ass cheek and squeezes roughly. I groan again as he pulls away to fondle my strap, teasing me. He pulls it back and lets it snap. It hits my skin but it doesn't sting. Until the second time he does it. After which he pulls the garment low enough to reveal only one quarters of my throbbing manhood.

He strokes the tip of my erection in rhythm with how fast I stroke him. His other hand travels back up my back to dig his nails into me. I tense up. I'm not gonna last long but from the looks of it I'll last longer than Tweek. He breaks the kiss to suck on my neck, muffling his whines. I speed up and he does too but I don't think he's thinking properly. I don't think he's thinking at all.

Tweek suddenly presses his thumb in the slit in the head of my dick. My back arches involuntarily and our chests bump. "Shit," I say, dropping my head on his shoulder.

Two minutes later Tweek lets out a loud breath and comes in my hand. "Bitch," I swear since he came all over our chests. Tweek ignores me, pulling my jockstrap lower, exposing more of me. He strokes me faster, dragging his nails down my abs and kissing my neck.

"Fuck, I'm close," I tell him. Tweek runs his fingers through my hair until I come. I only come in his hand. Tweek came all over both of our chests and my jockstrap and the floor. I liked this jockstrap. "Jesus Christ, thanks for the warning."

"Fuck you," Tweek says. "You sprained my nose."

"You can't sprain your nose," I retort. "Dumbass."

"Well, it fucking hurts, asshole!" Tweek, with his hand still in my hair, yanks my head back so I stumble before he hops off the lockers and heads for the shower. I narrow my eyes at his back as he walks away and grab a towel for me and him.

For some reason, Tweek takes cold showers. I asked him once and he gave me a bunch of bullshit statistics about the health benefits and shit. I think it's stupid and all it manages to do is keep me out of his shower… and maybe that's the point.

We shower in silence. I glance over to Tweek every now and then and he pretends I don't exist at all. When he's done he takes the towel I brought him and leaves. He does not thank me. Okay, whatever…

"Thanks a lot, asshole," Tweek says. "Now, I'm gonna be late." He pulls a sweatshirt over his head.

"You're welcome," I say.

"One of these days someone's gonna walk in on us," he tells me.

I laugh loudly, "It's almost ten. Who's coming to the gym at ten in South Park?"

"Fine. Don't take me seriously. I don't care."

"Neither do I," I say.

"Well, I don't care more."

"I definitely care less than you do."

"Fuck you, I'll tell everyone I know tonight."

"I'll tell everyone I know right now."

He scoffs. Tweek dresses, stuffs his clothes in his bag and tosses it over his shoulder.

"Want a ride?" I'm not even sure why I offer. Tweek waves me off the way he does every time I offer him a ride after practice. "I'll see you tomorrow," I call after him.

"Yep," Tweek replies before leaving. I blink after him and then pack my stuff. I grab my jockstrap off the floor and grimace. I take it along with my workout clothes to washer in the locker room and throw it in, turning it on. I'd rather avoid my mom find it…

I lock the gym up and start the drive home. Tweek and I have been at this for maybe three years. It started with just kissing and we were both freshmen. I don't even know what happened. I must've kissed him… I must have. Tweek wouldn't have kissed me. What were we even talking about? We'd kiss occasionally, and then we started to make out, and then it was heavy make outs; always after boxing or in the gym. One day when we were making out one thing lead to another and then I had a boner. I was freaking out because we had only been kissing and stuff and that's how I justified me not being gay because we were only kissing. And Tweek knew. I knew he knew. He had to have known, I mean, I had a fucking boner. I thought he'd be all grossed out and call me a faggot or something from a movie but instead it was more like curiosity. He asked me if I was hard and I said yes, I was. Tweek was more focused on the fact that he made me hard than focusing on the fact that I was hard and embarrassed. And then he asked if he could see it. I was like, 'what the fuck, Tweek. Why? Why would you want to see it?' Tweek said something that I can't even remember but it got my pants down so. Then the question was if he could touch it. You can probably put the pieces together.

We never talk about the serious stuff that I know probably occupies both of our minds; sexuality, religion, and even just what the fuck we're doing. Tweek and I really don't talk about much of anything, just boxing and school. I've known him for three years but I barely know him… but Tweek doesn't act like he wants to talk about stuff or maybe just to me. I don't even know if I care. Honestly, I don't like to think about it. All I know is we both like what we do so we try not to fuck it up.

I pull into our driveway and turn the car off. Sometimes though, if I must admit… I do wonder about... actually doing it with Tweek but, I honestly can't think about it. My face turns red, even though I'm just alone in my truck. But, I haven't done it with a girl either. That is to say, I am a virgin. I know. Shut up. I also wonder what it would mean to add some labels… if you catch my drift. Part of Tweek's appeal to me though, is the mystery of him. We've lived in the same town all our lives, even played as kids. I know him but I don't.

I walk up to my house in the snow. The front door is unlocked already and I pull it open. "I'm home!" I call.

My mom peaks from the kitchen and her eyes go wide. Oh yeah. Shit. She gasps and rushes over to me. Ruby walks down the stairs as our mother grabs my face and tilts my head back. "Craig Andrew Tucker," she says. "I thought you said you were boxing with Tweek!"

"I was," I say.

Ruby looks over our mom's shoulder and she busts out laughing. "Boxing my ass!"

"Ruby!" Mom scolds.

"Sorry," Ruby snickers into the kitchen.

"I just wish you'd tell us who you're seeing all the time," my mom says sadly, letting my face go.

I roll my eyes. "It's really not that serious, mom…"

"If it wasn't then why won't you tell me, Craig?"

I sigh, "I still have homework to do."

My mom sighs in response and shakes her head. "Dinner's in the kitchen if you're hungry." I nod.

My dad walks out next. He sees me, sees my neck, and nods slowly. "Boxing practice went well, I guess." I flick him off. "You know, Craig, I've actually been meaning to talk to you."

"Dad, c'mon, I already told mom. It's not serious and I'm not telling you who."

"That's fine," he says. "I mean, I wish you would but I know you won't. I just wanna make sure you're safe."

Oh, God, no.

"I know this is kind of late, I figured nowadays with the internet there's not much I could tell you that you don't already know and you could literally get condoms anywhere for any price but, here," he heads back into his office for a minute and returns with three little square packets. "Uh, I assume you know how to use them… I just wanted to let you know that if you have any questions, you came from my balls so there's nothing you can really say that'd make me judge you. I was a teenage boy myself once." He laughs. I eye the packets in his hand with horror. This isn't happening right now. I just had a wet dream with Tweek that turned into a nightmare. "C'mon then," he shoves them into my chest and I take them from him hesitantly. "Do you have any questions?" This is hard not to laugh about. The fucked up thing is that I have tons of fucking questions, but none of which, I could ask my dad without basically screaming, 'Hey, I'm bicurious and I think I wanna get it on with a boy!' I'm not sure if my parents would even care but I'm just not comfortable with it. Plus, there is the internet if I'm really curious. It just sucks to feel uncomfortable about something like this. I wish I didn't but somehow I know that even if they say it's fine and they still love me, things are gonna change and opinions are gonna change and then they'll be wondering if I'm with Clyde or Kenny or Toke just because they're my close friends, you know? I can't deal with it right now. It's not even a thing to deal with anyways.

"No, dad, but thanks…"

He slaps me on the shoulder. "That's my boy."

Hey remember that new story everyone probably forgot about? Anyways, here it is. It's in no way shape or form even remotely close to being done. I just wanted to put this up like a demo? So review if you like it and junk while I try to formulate my thoughts.

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