Some Boys are Monsters

The Bullet and the Messenger

Tweek's song of the day: The Kill by Thirty Seconds To Mars
Craig's song of the Day: Deathbeds by Bring Me the Horizon

I hold tightly to Craig as the deafening silence continues. Whoever is on the other side of our bathroom stall hasn't moved an inch since they heard my untimely twitch. My breath gets heavier as their sneakers start shuffling against the floor again. I find myself thankful for the metal wall between us and the rest of the bathroom...at least until I turn around.

I'm met with the thick gap between the door and the stall's metal frame. Someone is standing only a few feet away. Their eyes are blue. Their eyes are wide.

Stan's eyes are wide as he gawks in at the small glimpse he's getting of my naked ass. He sees that I see, then hurriedly turns away.

"S-shit," I whimper as quietly as I can. "He saw me. He saw me, I have to get out of here!"

I brace myself on the toilet paper dispenser as I lift up. A gross, wet sound fills the stall as Craig's soaked cock slips out of me.

He takes a hold of my sides, trying to quietly calm me down as I struggle to turn and reach for the door.

The bathroom is so quiet. I'm sure Stan can hear every breath that puffs between Craig and me.

"Baby, it's okay," Craig tries to assure me in a small whisper.

The stall seems to be getting smaller, though, and I'm feeling beyond suffocated.

"Let me out. Let me out," I chant with wavering breath.

Hesitantly, Craig surrenders, helping me pull my pants up before I dart for the door, fussing with the sliding lock holding it closed. When it finally swings open I go tumbling out with it. I try to avoid looking at Stan while I dart for my messenger bag. I can see him in the mirror, though, and he's watching us over his shoulder as he stands at a urinal.

He's watching us as Craig follows a ways behind me, tucking himself in his jeans as he tries to catch up.

I try to make a break for the door once I snatch my bag. However, Craig takes a gentle hold of my arm and redirects my attention to the mirror. I'm stunned seeing how much of a mess Mirror-Tweek has become.

His clothes are disheveled, his light hair is a wild rat's nest, and thick, dark spots are settled behind his cockeyed collar.

I whimper in shame as I make my way to the sink.

Craig comes up behind me, though he stands awkwardly to the side as I hurriedly comb my fingers through my wild mane.

With the sound of a zipper, Stan slinks away from the urinals to hesitantly join us at the sinks. It's obvious he's looking me over. I can see his shocked expression sneaking peeks at my red cheeks and love bites while he lets warm water run over his hands. I pop up my collar in an effort to hide my marks, but they're too high up my neck.

Stan doesn't take the time to dry his hands.

He and Craig exchange silence as he yanks his backpack up off of the floor and books it for the door.

"Oh god," I croak once he disappears.

Out of all the people that had to walk in and see that, it had to be Stan Marsh, the quarterback of the football team. Rumors will be swirling before Craig and I even make it to the assembly.

"H-he saw me. He knows, Craig. He knows!"

"Knows..." Craig mimics quietly before reaching out to fix my lopsided shirt. "He won't tell. It's okay."