Tweek jerks awake at the bed dipping to accommodate the body behind him. At first a spike of fear lances through him at the thought of some unknown figure reaching forward to strangle him in his sleep, or kidnap him, or—
“Mmm Tweek,” Craig mumbles into the crook of his neck and the adrenaline rush doesn’t so much subside as drag his brain down a new path of confusion and anxiety. Why is Craig in his bed? Not just sitting on it. Not shaking Tweek to wake him. No no, just climbing into bed with him, spooning him, wrapping his arms around him. Not that Tweek doesn’t want this from his roommate, far from it. Tweek’s fantasized about this since they first met on move in day at the beginning of the semester and he first laid eyes him. But this is so far outside of Craig’s reserved but kindly attitude towards him that Tweek reaches a trembling hand up to pinch himself in case he’s actually dreaming.
“Ow— fuck!”
No, he is not dreaming.
Craig, apart from a sigh of contentment, has fallen completely still once he’s settled against Tweek’s back. Ok, not completely still. As Tweek continues to try and process the events unfolding through the slowly lifting haze of sleep, he becomes aware that there is a part of Craig that continues to move, slowly, consistently. His hips roll in stilted thrusts against Tweek's ass and there's no mistaking the hot, hard line of his dick through their boxers.
“Uh, Craig—”
Craig groans and pulls Tweek closer, the cant of his hips becoming more forceful. Fuck, fuck this is really happening.
Tweek feels his own dick twitch and swell to the treatment he’s receiving and he reaches down to pull himself out. Craig still hasn’t said anything beyond moaning his name and seems very focused on humping his ass, so he might as well take care of himself, right? Rolling his hips back to meet Craig’s, Tweek builds his own steady tempo of thrusting into his hand, swiping over the tips of his cock with his thumb every so often to send an extra jolt of pleasure tingling through his body.
Their pace continues to build, Craig’s thrusting growing more and more frantic as one hand slips down to grab Tweek’s hip and roughly pull him back over and over. The thought that Craig’s perfectly fine with coming in his boxers, soiling them with grunts of pleasure as the dampness seeps through to Tweek’s own as he chases his orgasm is what sends Tweek over the edge.
“Holy, nng, fuck.”
Tweek’s head swims pleasantly and he’s about to roll over and confess some very private, embarrassing things when Craig abruptly sits up and slides out of his bed. In shock, Tweek watches Craig stumble back over to his own side of the dorm room and collapse into bed without a word or glance in Tweek’s direction.
“What the fuck?”
-=-
At first Tweek’s overtly angry with Craig, who seems confused by the sudden and unexplained hit to their friendship. But what is there to be confused about? You don’t just climb into someone’s bed, hump them to orgasm, and then pretend like it didn’t happen. Except it continues to happen. A few nights after the first time, then the night after that, continuing with erratic frequency. The third time, Tweek turns to chew Craig the fuck out and makes a startling realization: Craig is sleep walking.
Sleep sexing? That’s a thing right? Google says so, at least. So he must not realize he’s doing it. This puts Tweek in an entirely new conundrum because he should probably wake Craig up and make him aware of what’s happening. But on the other hand… Craig undeniably moans Tweek’s name in his sleep and Tweek really, really doesn’t want this to stop. If this is the only way Craig will ever be close to him like this, he’s gonna take it.
And he does; for a few weeks he thoroughly enjoys the almost nightly frotting sessions, even though he’s washing his sheets a lot more than is probably normal and Craig seems disgruntled at waking up to soiled boxers again and again. Tweek really shouldn’t enjoy it so much but Craig is hot and the thought that he’s so horny he can’t help but fuck the first warm body his sleepwalking finds is arousing in how fucked up it is. It’s something secret, intimate, thrilling. Tweek’s addicted to it.
But like any addiction, Tweek finds himself wanting more.
One night, after a late night round of boxing, Tweek stands in one of the dorm shower stalls to wash away the sweat and grime when a thought occurs to him. No, no way. He can’t do that… can he? He wants to though, so badly his insides clench pleasurably at the thought. So far, Craig hasn’t woken up a single time during these nightly episodes. Why not take things a little farther?
He can’t work up the courage to do it that night, or the next, but a few nights later finds him in the shower once again— this time with a bottle of lube and one leg propped up on a low dip in the show wall. By the time he’s done, Tweek’s shaking with arousal and dripping excess lube shamefully into his boxers as he slips into bed. Craig’s already fast asleep across the room, so now all Tweek needs to do is wait. He’s almost calmed himself to a state of dozing when the other bed creaks familiarly and he listens to Craig blindly shuffle over.
Tweek holds his breath and pulls his boxers down, otherwise keeping as still as possible as Craig climbs in behind him.
“Hmmm Tweek.”
Craig lets out an addled groan, curling in around Tweek as always. The cloth of his boxers feels rough against the skin of Tweek’s ass and he can’t help a shiver of lustful anticipation. Slowly, carefully, Tweek reaches back and pushes at Craig’s boxers until his dick catches on the fabric before slapping up against the cleft of Tweek’s ass. He gasps. The skin to skin contact sends a spark of lust ricocheting all the way down to his fingertips and for a minute Tweek lies there frozen as Craig thrusts against him, sweetly oblivious to how his movements smear the excess lube across Tweek’s skin.
At this moment, Tweek wonders if he can actually go through with this. Maybe this is enough, the skin to skin contact, the hot drag of Craig’s dick along his ass. Then Craig shifts unconsciously so the head of his cock slips up and between and they both moan. Tweek dares not move, painfully hard, as Craig presses up and in. He’s barely in, as uncoordinated as his movements are in his sleep, but Tweek prepped thoroughly and with a gratuitous amount of lube and Craig’s consistent thrusting slowly but surely pushes him past that ring of muscle.
“Oh— oh god,” Tweek whimpers as he lays there and lets Craig fuck into him with grunts and moans unrestrained by sleep. Craig doesn’t get very far, but the drag of his flared head in and out of Tweek’s hole is more than enough.
“F— gnnn,” Tweek bites down on his hand to muffle how he cums, almost untouched, to the sensation. It doesn’t take much longer for Craig to follow suit but this time, instead of the dampness of cumstained boxers, Tweek feels that warmth inside and leaking out onto his ass.
In the morning, Craig wakes up confused at how his boxers got pushed down around his ass, and even more confused as to why Tweek can’t seem to look him in the eye.
Re: Craig/Tweek, sexsomnia (& dubcon, technically)
Tweek jerks awake at the bed dipping to accommodate the body behind him. At first a spike of fear lances through him at the thought of some unknown figure reaching forward to strangle him in his sleep, or kidnap him, or—
“Mmm Tweek,” Craig mumbles into the crook of his neck and the adrenaline rush doesn’t so much subside as drag his brain down a new path of confusion and anxiety. Why is Craig in his bed? Not just sitting on it. Not shaking Tweek to wake him. No no, just climbing into bed with him, spooning him, wrapping his arms around him. Not that Tweek doesn’t want this from his roommate, far from it. Tweek’s fantasized about this since they first met on move in day at the beginning of the semester and he first laid eyes him. But this is so far outside of Craig’s reserved but kindly attitude towards him that Tweek reaches a trembling hand up to pinch himself in case he’s actually dreaming.
“Ow— fuck!”
No, he is not dreaming.
Craig, apart from a sigh of contentment, has fallen completely still once he’s settled against Tweek’s back. Ok, not completely still. As Tweek continues to try and process the events unfolding through the slowly lifting haze of sleep, he becomes aware that there is a part of Craig that continues to move, slowly, consistently. His hips roll in stilted thrusts against Tweek's ass and there's no mistaking the hot, hard line of his dick through their boxers.
“Uh, Craig—”
Craig groans and pulls Tweek closer, the cant of his hips becoming more forceful. Fuck, fuck this is really happening.
Tweek feels his own dick twitch and swell to the treatment he’s receiving and he reaches down to pull himself out. Craig still hasn’t said anything beyond moaning his name and seems very focused on humping his ass, so he might as well take care of himself, right? Rolling his hips back to meet Craig’s, Tweek builds his own steady tempo of thrusting into his hand, swiping over the tips of his cock with his thumb every so often to send an extra jolt of pleasure tingling through his body.
Their pace continues to build, Craig’s thrusting growing more and more frantic as one hand slips down to grab Tweek’s hip and roughly pull him back over and over. The thought that Craig’s perfectly fine with coming in his boxers, soiling them with grunts of pleasure as the dampness seeps through to Tweek’s own as he chases his orgasm is what sends Tweek over the edge.
“Holy, nng, fuck.”
Tweek’s head swims pleasantly and he’s about to roll over and confess some very private, embarrassing things when Craig abruptly sits up and slides out of his bed. In shock, Tweek watches Craig stumble back over to his own side of the dorm room and collapse into bed without a word or glance in Tweek’s direction.
“What the fuck?”
-=-
At first Tweek’s overtly angry with Craig, who seems confused by the sudden and unexplained hit to their friendship. But what is there to be confused about? You don’t just climb into someone’s bed, hump them to orgasm, and then pretend like it didn’t happen. Except it continues to happen. A few nights after the first time, then the night after that, continuing with erratic frequency. The third time, Tweek turns to chew Craig the fuck out and makes a startling realization: Craig is sleep walking.
Sleep sexing? That’s a thing right? Google says so, at least. So he must not realize he’s doing it. This puts Tweek in an entirely new conundrum because he should probably wake Craig up and make him aware of what’s happening. But on the other hand… Craig undeniably moans Tweek’s name in his sleep and Tweek really, really doesn’t want this to stop. If this is the only way Craig will ever be close to him like this, he’s gonna take it.
And he does; for a few weeks he thoroughly enjoys the almost nightly frotting sessions, even though he’s washing his sheets a lot more than is probably normal and Craig seems disgruntled at waking up to soiled boxers again and again. Tweek really shouldn’t enjoy it so much but Craig is hot and the thought that he’s so horny he can’t help but fuck the first warm body his sleepwalking finds is arousing in how fucked up it is. It’s something secret, intimate, thrilling. Tweek’s addicted to it.
But like any addiction, Tweek finds himself wanting more.
One night, after a late night round of boxing, Tweek stands in one of the dorm shower stalls to wash away the sweat and grime when a thought occurs to him. No, no way. He can’t do that… can he? He wants to though, so badly his insides clench pleasurably at the thought. So far, Craig hasn’t woken up a single time during these nightly episodes. Why not take things a little farther?
He can’t work up the courage to do it that night, or the next, but a few nights later finds him in the shower once again— this time with a bottle of lube and one leg propped up on a low dip in the show wall. By the time he’s done, Tweek’s shaking with arousal and dripping excess lube shamefully into his boxers as he slips into bed. Craig’s already fast asleep across the room, so now all Tweek needs to do is wait. He’s almost calmed himself to a state of dozing when the other bed creaks familiarly and he listens to Craig blindly shuffle over.
Tweek holds his breath and pulls his boxers down, otherwise keeping as still as possible as Craig climbs in behind him.
“Hmmm Tweek.”
Craig lets out an addled groan, curling in around Tweek as always. The cloth of his boxers feels rough against the skin of Tweek’s ass and he can’t help a shiver of lustful anticipation. Slowly, carefully, Tweek reaches back and pushes at Craig’s boxers until his dick catches on the fabric before slapping up against the cleft of Tweek’s ass. He gasps. The skin to skin contact sends a spark of lust ricocheting all the way down to his fingertips and for a minute Tweek lies there frozen as Craig thrusts against him, sweetly oblivious to how his movements smear the excess lube across Tweek’s skin.
At this moment, Tweek wonders if he can actually go through with this. Maybe this is enough, the skin to skin contact, the hot drag of Craig’s dick along his ass. Then Craig shifts unconsciously so the head of his cock slips up and between and they both moan. Tweek dares not move, painfully hard, as Craig presses up and in. He’s barely in, as uncoordinated as his movements are in his sleep, but Tweek prepped thoroughly and with a gratuitous amount of lube and Craig’s consistent thrusting slowly but surely pushes him past that ring of muscle.
“Oh— oh god,” Tweek whimpers as he lays there and lets Craig fuck into him with grunts and moans unrestrained by sleep. Craig doesn’t get very far, but the drag of his flared head in and out of Tweek’s hole is more than enough.
“F— gnnn,” Tweek bites down on his hand to muffle how he cums, almost untouched, to the sensation. It doesn’t take much longer for Craig to follow suit but this time, instead of the dampness of cumstained boxers, Tweek feels that warmth inside and leaking out onto his ass.
In the morning, Craig wakes up confused at how his boxers got pushed down around his ass, and even more confused as to why Tweek can’t seem to look him in the eye.