Blame my Childhood

Under Your Control

A loud slam woke the blond up. His head pulsed with every beat of his heart, and the room spun. He looked around, it was pink.

But, why did his clothes feel so... tight? Tweek squinted in the light, trying to make sense of the fabric clinging to him. He sat up, his head spinning, and looked down. A pink turtle neck tightly hugged his skin..

And when he threw the blanket off, he had a black, short skirt on. He looked down at himself, horrified. What the hell?

Where was Craig? Did he leave? Was that the slam that woke me?

He struggled to stand, the fabric of the skirt restricting his movement. "Ngh!- Where are my.. clothes?!" He stumbled into the hallway.

He opened the first door in the hall, expecting to find the bathroom, but instead, was met with a room that looked like a girl's bedroom. The walls were adorned with pink and unicorn posters, a vanity with makeup and hairbrushes laid out neatly.

"No- no way!- Where's his room?!" Tweek's panic grew as he stumbled into the next room, which was the bathroom.

Then he finally entered Craig's room. It was nothing like the rest of his house. There was no pink in sight.

The walls were painted a dark blue, with a few posters of rock bands scattered here and there. The bed was neatly made, with black bed sheets and a few action figures lined up on the shelf above it.

"Wait.. why did he make me sleep on the couch if he has another room?" He glanced around the room, a rack of dumbells and exercise equipment.

"What the fuck is happening?"

Well.. maybe he's got clothes in here I can use. Tweek stumbled over to the closet, his head pounding with each step. He flung the door open and was met with an organized array of men's clothing. Nothing that would fit him.

He slammed the door shut. He had to get out of here. He needed to find his own clothes and get home.

But the more Tweek searched the house, the more he realized something was wrong. There were no signs of his own clothes anywhere.

He stumbled into the kitchen, his eyes darting around the room in desperation. His phone was nowhere to be found.

"Craig! What the fuck, man?!" Tweek called out.

He fell, knees first, on the soft carpet in the living room. His head still pounded, the fabric of the skirt riding up slightly, exposing his bare legs.

Nobody was here.

"I just need to get out of here..." The blond silently stood up and headed to the front door.

But as he turned the knob, he realized it was locked. And could only be locked and unlocked with a key.

Panic set in as Tweek rattled the door. Why would he lock me in here? Is he... going to... kill me?

He had to calm down, to think. This isn't like Craig. He's just... weird, not dangerous.

Yeah, he's just really... really... really.. weird. He couldn't hurt me..

But the doubt lingered.

The more Tweek thought about it, the more he realized that maybe he didn't know Craig as well as he thought. Sure, they worked together, lived next door, he hears screams every night?! What was he thinking...

Tweek sat down again, against the door. He felt so helpless. He didn't know what to do.

Then, he heard the door unlock from the outside. He scooted away, out of sight behind the counter.

Craig entered, his expression still unreadable as always. He looked around the room, noticing the rummaged state of the place. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Tweek's hand poking out from behind the counter.

"Why are you hiding?" Craig's voice was flat.

Tweek peeked out from behind the counter, his eyes wide with fear. "Why am I dressed like this?" He demanded, holding out the skirt.

"You don't like it?" Craig asked, tilting his head.

Tweek's voice was shaky. "What's going on, man? This isn't funny."

"You look good in that now that your standing... maybe I should've put those heels on too."

"St-stop avoiding the question!" Tweek's voice cracked with fear as he took a step back, the fabric of the skirt sliding against his thighs.

"You don't have a home anymore. You've been evicted." Craig's voice was devoid of any emotion.

"What are you talking about?" His eyes searched the room for any sign of his clothes, but he still found nothing but pink.

"You're going to live here with me, Tweek."

"Huh?! No way-" Tweek stuttered.

"I have one single condition."

"What condition?" Tweek's voice trembled as he clutched the end of the skirt.

Craig stepped closer, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You're going to be my boyfriend."

Tweek's eyes went wide with horror. "What? No way, dude! You seriously think that's the right way to ask someone to-"

His cheeks were squished so he couldn't speak. "I'm not asking you."

Craig's hand was over Tweek's mouth, his grip firm. The blond's eyes went wide with shock and fear, his body stiffening against the pressure.

"You're going to stay here with me, and you're going to be my boyfriend," he said, his voice low and serious. "You won't have to do anything, not go to work or cook or get groceries."

Tweek's heart hammered in his chest as he stared up at the unyielding man. "But-"

"But what?" Craig's grip tightened, cutting off any further protest. "You don't have anywhere else to go."

Tweek's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape or anything that could help him. He couldn't do anything. He was 5'6" and small compared to Craig's 6'4" height. And he had a lot more muscle than him.

But the thought of being trapped here, dressed like this, with no way out, was terrifying.

Would he really make me wear this shit all the time? Would he force me to do... things?

"Why do I have to.. wear this?" Tweek whimpered.

"It's just a piece of fabic that reveals some of your skin."

"But I'm not a girl!" Tweek protested, trying to push away from him.

"Hah.. that's the best part." Craig chuckled, his grip loosening slightly. "You don't have to be a girl. You're just going to look like one."

The room spun as Tweek's thoughts raced. "But-"

"I'm sick of your back talk, say another word... and I'll use this knife.. and cut right... here.." He grabbed the knife off the counter and positioned it on his neck.

Tweek's eyes went wide, his voice muffled by the hand over his mouth. He nodded frantically.

Craig removed his hand. "Good boy," he murmured.

Tweek swallowed hard, his eyes still glued to the knife in the other man's hand. He couldn't even speak if he tried, his heart and lungs both worked in sync as they thought a wild animal was hunting him down.

"Your room is the first door on the left," Craig said, pointing down the hall.

The room with all the pink everywhere? That's where Tweek's supposed to sleep? "You.. don't wanna sleep together?"

Craig smirked. "Why? Would you prefer my bed?"

Tweek's eyes darted to the knife, then back to him. "No-, no I'll go-.. to the room you said."

"Good." He watched as Tweek shuffled down the hallway, his legs unsteady in the tight skirt.

This was his chance to have something beautiful, something that would drive his father mad.

So mad he would hunt him down to kill him.