Archive of Our Own ^beta

     It had never occurred to Craig that rain could burn––that the persistent downpour wrenched down from the sky could sear into his skin, those thousand little pin-pricks that dampened his hair and ruined his clothes. The breath that filled his lungs was uncomfortably warm and wet for a summer night, and he watched as those sharp, glistening droplets pierced through the surface of the seemingly endless lake before him. If he focused his eyes enough through the pitter-patter rain falling above, he could see his own distorted reflection rippling across the huge thing. He’d never been one to obsess much over his appearance––always one to take things as they were, not what they could be—but to his mind, it was just a mere fact that his limbs were too long and his nose was too sharp. Gangly with a face still too young for his preference, certainly not fit for someone who’d just graduated a little more than two weeks ago, now. Certainly not fit for someone who was leaving, someone who was hopping on a plane to the east, to study at Columbia come fall. 
克雷格从未想过雨水也能灼人——那些从天空倾泻而下的连绵暴雨竟能刺痛他的皮肤，千万颗细密水珠浸透他的发丝，毁了他的衣衫。在这个夏夜，涌入肺部的空气潮湿闷热得令人不适，他望着那些尖锐闪亮的水滴刺入面前看似无垠的湖面。当视线足够穿透淅沥落下的雨幕时，他能看见自己扭曲的倒影在辽阔水面上荡漾。他向来不是个过分在意容貌的人——总是接受事物本来的样子，而非它们可能成为的模样——但在他认知里，这不过是个简单事实：他的四肢过于修长，鼻梁过于锋利。瘦骨嶙峋的面容还带着稚气，这显然不适合一个刚毕业两周多的人，更不适合一个即将离开的人，一个即将飞往东海岸、秋季就要入读哥伦比亚大学的人。

      What was he doing here?
他究竟为何站在这里？

     The delicate rustling-squelch of footsteps upon slick grass brought him back from wherever his mind had wandered. That allowed him to remember where he was–– Bebe’s family’s summer lake house in Colorado Springs– –and why–– she’d invited a handful of her friends for a post-graduation retreat, and the Craig from one month ago had shrugged and agreed. The plan for that particular night had been to scrounge together a bonfire and eat s’mores until their stomachs ached from the sticky, saccharine sweetness, but an unprecedented downpour had forced them to remain indoors and lightheartedly argue over card game rules they’d always change. Craig had excused himself for a bout of fresh air some time ago––he couldn’t remember how long, he really couldn’t remember much besides the warm, wet eyes of none other than Stan Marsh burning his retinas and suddenly making his clothes too scratchy against his skin. There had been something off swirling in that gaze––that overwhelming pierce—and now Craig was silently wishing he’d invited Stan outside with him. But it was his feeling that the presence radiating heat besides him now was the boy in question, anyways. Words hadn’t been necessary, and Craig had the sneaking suspicion that they never were at all, not when it came to this, at least.
湿滑草地上传来的细微窸窣声将他从神游中拽回现实。这让他记起自己身在何处——贝贝家位于科罗拉多泉的夏日湖畔别墅——以及缘由：她邀请了几位好友来参加毕业后的度假聚会，而一个月前的克雷格只是耸耸肩就答应了。那晚原计划是凑个篝火堆，把棉花糖烤到黏腻甜腻吃到胃痛，但一场突如其来的暴雨迫使他们只能待在室内，嬉笑着争论那些他们总会临时修改的纸牌规则。克雷格不久前借口说要透透气离开了——他不记得具体多久，事实上除了斯坦·马什那双灼热湿润、仿佛要在他视网膜上烙下印记的眼睛外，他几乎什么都记不清了，那视线突然让他觉得衣服摩擦皮肤的感觉变得难以忍受。那道目光里盘旋着某种异样的情绪——那种极具穿透力的凝视——此刻克雷格正暗自懊悔没邀请斯坦一同出来。但此刻他身侧散发着热量的存在感，无疑正是那个男孩。 言语本就不必要，克雷格隐约觉得从来都不需要，至少在这件事上是如此。

     “When are you leaving?”
"你什么时候走？"

     The hot breath tickled his skin, and there was that voice that hadn’t spoken a word to him the entire week they’d been on the trip thus far. Of course, there was no reason why he should’ve been expecting it––he wasn’t exactly friends with the boy, more akin to acquaintances that occasionally shared nods or tight smiles at each other in the halls of a high school they’d no longer be returning to. Similarly, he wasn’t surprised at the sudden inquisition––in a small high school of rural, desolate Colorado, going off to a college outside the state was extraordinarily rare—especially one that’d miraculously offered him a full-ride to study aerospace engineering. He suspected that the essay he’d written of growing up in a town that seemed to defy all natural inclination and logical reason had been a deciding factor of his acceptance. But Stan was a similar case––he’d been admitted to UC San Diego for veterinary science, with a future that now promised bright, sunny skies and significantly less pouring rain that cut down to the bone. In just three months, they’d be on opposite ends of the country, opposite time zones, and really, just opposite lives, too. He didn’t know why that knowledge made his stomach turn with something he couldn’t quite bring forth from chapped lips.
炽热的呼吸拂过他的肌肤，那个整整一周旅行途中都未曾与他交谈的声音突然响起。当然，他本不该对此有所期待——他们算不得朋友，顶多是在即将永别的高中走廊里偶尔点头致意的泛泛之交。同样地，他对这突如其来的探询并不惊讶——在科罗拉多荒凉小镇的小型高中里，能去外州读大学实属罕见，更何况是获得航空航天工程全额奖学金的奇迹。他怀疑那份描述自己成长于违背自然规律与逻辑常理之地的申请文书，或许正是录取的关键因素。而斯坦的情况同样特殊——他已被加州大学圣地亚哥分校兽医学院录取，未来等待着的是明媚阳光，而非刺骨寒雨。三个月后，他们将身处国家两端，相隔三个时区，说到底，终究要活成截然不同的人生。 他不知道为何这个认知会让胃里翻涌起某种难以启齿的情绪

     “Columbia starts classes on September 3rd—I’ll probably be flying out the week before, just to get things in order.”
"哥伦比亚大学 9 月 3 号开学——我大概会提前一周飞过去，好把一切安排妥当。"

      To adjust to the start of forever, and the end of whatever barely-there man these past eighteen weary years had wrought him into.
去适应永恒的开端，以及这疲惫十八年勉强塑造出的残缺人格的终结

      “When does San Diego start?” His head shifted as he peered into Stan’s vicinity for the first time since he’d supposedly tailed him outside. 
"圣地亚哥那边什么时候开学？"他转过头，自从声称跟着斯坦出来以来第一次将视线投向对方所在的方向

     “Later than that.” Stan’s words fell from his mouth, and then flat into the lake, his eyes following the water’s constant motion––almost as if the subtle ripples provided more stimulus than looking at Craig ever would. “But I guess I should leave earlier too, have to move into my dorm and find out whether or not my roommate is someone I can stand for a year. You know. Making sure they’re not… strange, I guess.”
"比那还要晚。"斯坦的话语从他口中滑落，随后平铺在湖面上，他的目光追随着湖水永不停歇的波动——仿佛那些细微的涟漪比注视克雷格更能刺激他的神经。"不过我想我也该早点出发，得搬进宿舍看看未来一年的室友是不是个正常人。你懂的，确认他们不会...太古怪。"

     “It’s California.”   “这里是加州。”

     Stan exhaled a bit, his lip pursed into just the slightest curve of a pout, and Craig tried— failed —not to take note of the way a stray raindrop slid and shone upon that glistening pink surface. 
斯坦轻轻呼出一口气，嘴唇微微撅起形成一道几不可察的弧度，克雷格试图——却失败了——不去注意那颗偏离轨道的雨滴如何在那片闪着光的粉色表面滑落闪烁。

     “Yeah… yeah. ”
“是啊…是啊。”

     Craig did not envy Stan. It was true that he could recognize the legitimacy of UCSD as a academically sound institution from a distant viewpoint, but there was zero desire within his being to hop onto a plane straight into one of the most profound cesspools of stagnant heat, whiny, bitter celebrity wannabes, and vacant souls in probably the entire world. He didn’t envy that Stan’s roommate would likely be a way-too extroverted local who’d have a deep tan and a lazy voice. He didn’t envy that Stan would probably have to find a whole new wardrobe for the constant, incessantly insufferable heat. 
克雷格并不羡慕斯坦。诚然，他能从客观角度承认加州大学圣地亚哥分校是所学术严谨的学府，但内心深处对搭乘飞机直抵那个堪称全球最严重的湿热沼泽、充斥着怨天尤人的过气明星梦患者与空洞灵魂的鬼地方，实在提不起半分兴趣。他不羡慕斯坦的室友八成会是个晒得黝黑、说话拖腔拖调的外向本地人。更不羡慕斯坦恐怕得为持续不断令人窒息的酷热购置全新行头。

     He didn’t envy that Stan would get to have warm summer nights on buttery-sand beaches, dark hair shimmering with salt water and sweat.
他也不羡慕斯坦能享受黄油般细腻沙滩上的温暖夏夜，任由咸涩海水与汗水在乌黑发丝间闪烁微光。

     He didn’t envy that Stan’s extroverted roommate might push him from his ways just enough to allow him to truly have the ideal college experience, running with reckless abandon in a city foreign to a young and desperately searching soul. He didn’t envy the nameless, faceless guy or girl–– he’d caught wind of a rumor in tenth grade that he swung both ways–– that would pull him close during the darkest hour of night in a frat-house party, drink him in until they were both nothing more than each other’s heady conquests of the night—or, or, or something more.
他并不羡慕斯坦那位外向的室友可能会稍稍改变他的处世方式，让他能在异乡城市里彻底享受理想的大学生活，任由年轻而迷茫的灵魂肆意奔跑。他也不羡慕那个无名无姓的家伙——十年级时他曾听到传言说斯坦男女通吃——那人会在兄弟会派对的深夜时分将他拉近，彼此沉醉直到成为对方一夜风流的战利品——或者，或者，或者发展成更深刻的关系。

      By the time his mind caught up to what his hands had unconsciously begun to do, his featherlight touch was just barely ghosting over Stan’s jaw, and the boy was staring at him with wide eyes that shimmered with something neither could bring themselves to utter. Craig honestly didn’t know what he was doing, but there was a gradual ringing in his ear— growing in intensity minute by minute and second by second—that seemed to sap all logical thinking and reason from his rain-soaked body.
当他的意识终于追上双手无意识开始的举动时，他羽毛般轻柔的触碰正若即若离地掠过斯坦的下颌线。男孩睁大的眼眸里闪烁着某种两人都无法宣之于口的东西，正直直望向他。克雷格诚然不知道自己究竟在做什么，但耳畔逐渐响起的嗡鸣声——每分钟、每秒钟都在加剧——仿佛正从他被雨水浸透的身体里抽离所有理性与思考。

     “Dude, would you just…” Stan stared up— up, and Craig’s short-circuiting mind was quickly finding that he quite liked it when he did that—at him, as his lower lip was caught between his teeth, as his brows creased while something finitive appeared to cross through his mind, as he breathed a quiet sigh into the warm, wet summer night and pulled Craig’s parted mouth down onto his own.
“老兄，你能不能就…”斯坦仰头望着——向上望着，而克雷格短路的大脑正迅速发现自己很喜欢他这样做的样子——他的下唇被牙齿轻轻咬住，眉头紧蹙时似乎有什么决定性念头闪过脑海，在温暖潮湿的夏夜里轻叹一声，将克雷格微张的唇拉向自己。

     The rain hadn’t relented, something that Craig took dim notice of as droplets of the stuff slipped in between the melding of their lips, leaving a distinct trace upon his tongue that left him wondering where the boy before him ended and the ethereal tears of this world too small for the two of them began—maybe, he thought while his tongue carefully delved deep into the caverns of the eternally pleasurable partition he’d been provided, they were one and the same. Stan and the rain. Stan with those endlessly blue eyes that almost seemed too big for his face at times, similar to the water that fell upon them now. Stan and whatever he was doing with his mouth now that nearly sent Craig to another mortal plane. Stan and Mother Nature––no, Stan and God, because with the way he nibbled on Craig’s lower lip and traced his nails along his neck, Stan was God, and maybe he was being ridiculous and strange and all those things Tricia said made him off-putting and incapable of ever lasting in a normal relationship, but his mind was too clouded with zany pleasure to bring himself to care at all. He didn’t care about leaving behind everything and everyone he’d ever known in only a few months to a place he’d never been, he didn’t care that childhood had just ended so abruptly and finitely, forever , he didn’t care about anything in this stupid world as long as Stan would keep kissing him like he was something to lose.
雨势未减，克雷格对此只有模糊的感知——当雨滴渗入他们交叠的唇瓣间，在他舌尖留下鲜明的痕迹时，他不禁思索面前这个男孩的边界究竟在哪里，而这片小得容不下他们两人的天地所降下的虚幻泪雨又始于何处。或许，当他的舌头探入那个永远令人愉悦的天然分界时，他恍惚觉得这两者本就是一体的。斯坦和雨水。斯坦那双蓝得惊人的眼睛，有时大得几乎与脸庞不成比例，就像此刻落在他们身上的雨滴。斯坦此刻用嘴唇施展的魔法，几乎要让克雷格魂飞魄散。斯坦与自然母亲——不，斯坦就是上帝，因为他啃咬克雷格下唇的方式，因为他指尖在克雷格颈间游走的触感。特蕾莎总说他古怪别扭，永远无法维持正常关系，但此刻他脑中充斥着疯狂的欢愉，根本无暇顾及这些。 他不在乎几个月后就要离开熟悉的一切和所有人，去往一个从未踏足的地方；不在乎童年就这样猝不及防地永远终结；只要斯坦继续像对待珍宝般亲吻他，这个愚蠢世界里其他事情他都不在乎。

     He stared at the gossamer strand of saliva, quickly shattered into oblivion by a raindrop, as Stan broke away first—though his wide, wide, blown-pupil eyes continued to stare into the deepest crevices of his soul.
他盯着那缕蛛丝般的银线，雨滴瞬间将其击碎湮灭——斯坦先抽身离去，但那双瞪大的、瞳孔扩散的眼睛仍凝视着他灵魂最幽深的裂隙。

      “Imavirgin.”   “我是处男。”

      “What.” He responded stupidly.
"啥？"他呆头呆脑地回应道。

     “Fuck, dude, I’m a––” Stan’s eyes darted around their vicinity, as if there were literally anyone lingering outside on a pouring, uncomfortably hot night in a secluded area near the biggest body of water Craig had ever seen in his–– admittedly —limited life that would even have the slightest interest in the rather insignificant topic of eighteen-year-old boy’s sexual life. “Nevermind. This is—this is stupid, I don’t know why I even–– eurgh. ”
“操，伙计，我是个——”斯坦的目光慌乱扫视着四周，仿佛在这倾盆大雨又闷热难耐的夜晚，在克雷格有限人生中见过的最大的水域附近，真会有谁躲在僻静处对十八岁男孩那点微不足道的性生活感兴趣似的。“算了。这——太蠢了，我都不知道我干嘛要——呃。”

     Even through the dark swallow of the night, the distinct flush swarming Stan’s features still stuck out in Craig’s perception, canvassed beneath those enigmatic eyes that were suddenly flickered away as the boy looked beyond Craig—towards the still-being-pelted lake—with what looked to be unease—and even slight embarrassment —contorting his expression, like he had just made a massive mistake and wanted nothing more than to disintegrate into the summery grass below. However, as it was, Craig was the one who had just been kissed and then quite literally dissed, so he continued to stand stock-still in the rain that was gradually making him more uncomfortable whilst Stan seemed to choke on a litany of things primed to spill from those lips Craig really just wanted to keep on kissing, if it was agreeable to both parties, of course.
即便夜色如墨般浓重，斯坦脸上那抹鲜明的红晕依然在克雷格的感知中格外醒目。那双神秘眼眸下掩藏的情绪突然闪躲开去，男孩的目光越过克雷格——投向仍在承受雨点鞭挞的湖面——不安甚至略带窘迫的神情扭曲了他的面容，仿佛刚犯下弥天大错，恨不得立刻融化成脚下盛夏的草甸。但现实是，刚刚被亲吻又遭冷落的明明是克雷格，于是他继续如雕塑般伫立在这逐渐令人不适的雨中，而斯坦似乎正被一连串即将脱口而出的话语噎住——那些克雷格其实很想继续亲吻的嘴唇里酝酿的言语，当然，前提是双方都情愿的话。

     “Hey, uh, I have a… favor to ask you.”
“嘿，呃，我有件事想...请你帮忙。”

     Craig gradually gathered himself, as he wiped the remains of Stan from his lips and stared blankly down at a droplet of red that had lingered on his fingertip, before flicking it off into the night shower. Evidently, because really nothing should be surprising Craig at this point—he’d been kissed hard enough to draw blood. Particularly, he didn’t know how he felt about that, and he really did not like the way his jeans somehow tightened in response. He faintly wondered if it was a little bit emasculating—how this boy he’d only passively known all throughout his life had sauntered outside, interrupted his very much needed— thank you very much —angst reflective in the rain, and shoved their lips together before pulling away and having the nerve to seem flustered about it all. It partially gave him the urge to clock Stan in his pretty face, but doing so would require movement, which would then require him to shift his hips and reveal the tightness he was working so hard to conceal at the given moment. If he somehow thought throughout these past few weeks post graduation that he was now an adult—a mature, collected grown man—it was becoming increasingly apparent that sentiment was false, because Craig felt extremely teenage and stupid and horny and exhausted all at the very same time, increasing the longer he stayed in close proximity to Stan. Stupid Stan. Stupid, beautiful, where-the- hell -did-he-learn-how-to-kiss-like-that-because-it-sure-wasn’t-Testaburger- Stan.
克雷格逐渐回过神来，他抹去唇上残留的斯坦气息，茫然盯着指尖那滴迟迟未落的猩红，最终将它弹进夜雨中。显然——因为此刻实在没什么能让他惊讶了——那个吻激烈得足以咬出血来。特别的是，他不知道自己对此作何感想，更讨厌牛仔裤竟因此不合时宜地绷紧。他隐约怀疑这是否有损男子气概：这个从小到大仅止于点头之交的男孩，大摇大摆闯出来打断他万分需要的——谢谢关心——雨中忧郁沉思，粗暴地贴上他的嘴唇又抽身而退，居然还敢为这一切脸红。这让他产生往那张漂亮脸蛋挥拳的冲动，但任何动作都会牵动胯部，暴露他此刻正竭力隐藏的紧绷。 如果说毕业后的这几周里，他莫名以为自己已经是个成熟稳重的大人——这个念头正变得越来越可笑，因为克雷格此刻同时感受着极度的青春期躁动、愚蠢、饥渴和疲惫，而且越是靠近斯坦，这些感觉就越发强烈。该死的斯坦。那个该死的、漂亮的、到底从哪儿学会这种接吻技巧的——反正肯定不是从特斯塔伯格那里学来的——斯坦。

     “Does it have anything to do with your teeth splitting my lips open?” His sarcastic drawl came from reflex, and deep down, he was relieved to find that his mind still had the wherewithal to not turn into a sputtering mess. “Or was that just one of your party tricks.”
"难道是因为你的牙齿把我的嘴唇都划破了？"他条件反射地吐出这句讽刺的拖腔，心底却庆幸自己还能保持理智，没有变成语无伦次的傻瓜。"还是说这只是你的派对把戏之一。"

     He received a tired glare, but when he tilted his head in response—because who was really at fault here?—Stan gave an exasperated sigh and folded his arms across his chest. Bare, pale arms that—rather ridiculously— almost seemed reflective in the moonlight. 
他收获了一个疲惫的白眼，但当他歪头回敬时——毕竟谁才是罪魁祸首呢？——斯坦恼火地叹了口气，将苍白的手臂交叉在赤裸的胸前。那对胳膊在月光下荒谬地泛着微光，几乎像是能反光似的。

     “Listen, you look like a wet dog, so whatever it is, can we go inside for it? We’ve been out here for too long anyways, and I’m really actually getting sick of this rain—”
"听着，你现在活像只落水狗，所以不管要说什么，我们能进屋吗？我们在这儿待得太久了，而且我真的开始受不了这该死的雨——"

     “I need you to have sex with me.”
“我需要你和我做爱。”

     “ Excuse me.”
“失礼了。”

     But Stan had focused those impossibly evocative eyes onto his face once more, and despite the wash of water soaking his frame, Craig found that his mouth had gone cotton-dry. What could he possibly say to answer that? What was Stan expecting him—Craig Tucker, notorious for his eighteen-year-long streak of apathy and little regard for matters outside his control—to say? Or, perhaps, that was exactly what Stan had been counting on—that because Craig appeared to care so little about literally anything, he’d shrug his shoulders, fuck Stan in an extremely inappropriate location in less than ten minutes, and scroll through his phone afterwards like nothing had happened. Craig considered this to be a wild presumption, and it made him upset, but not as upset as he currently was with himself for weighing the pros and cons of agreeing. If Bebe were out here, she’d slap him clean across the face with her manicured fingers and snap at him to stop thinking with his dick. But Bebe was inside, probably sitting half on top of Wendy’s lap and musing on her own chances of getting lucky that night, so there was really no one on this side of the sprawling world around them to reel him in, but before he could give a proper response, Stan had swallowed nervously and began to ramble nonsense.
但斯坦那双令人难以抗拒的眼睛再次聚焦在他脸上，尽管雨水浸透了全身，克雷格却感到口干舌燥。他该如何回应这句话？斯坦究竟期待他——以十八年来对万事漠不关心著称的克雷格·塔克——给出什么答案？或许这正是斯坦算计好的：正因为克雷格对任何事都表现得毫不在意，他会无所谓地耸耸肩，在十分钟内于这个极不合适的场所和斯坦上床，事后刷着手机当作无事发生。克雷格认为这种假设简直荒谬，这让他恼火，但更让他恼火的是自己居然在认真权衡答应的利弊。要是贝蓓在场，准会用她精心修剪的指甲扇他耳光，呵斥他别用下半身思考。 但贝蓓正在屋里，大概半坐在温蒂腿上，盘算着自己今晚能否走运，所以此刻这广阔天地间确实没人能把他拉回现实。可还没等他给出像样的回应，斯坦就紧张地咽了咽口水，开始语无伦次地胡扯起来。

     “Well, I mean— God, I know this is weird and I won’t be upset if you say no, but it’s just like, um, I’m moving across the country, right? And people in California are weird and I don’t want to stick out more than I already will, and I figured that this— this at least would give me, I don’t know, at least some sense of feeling like I know what the hell I’m doing, that I’m not some strange, conservative freak from rural Colorado who doesn’t even know what sex is— which is wrong, of course, because, I mean, I do know what sex is, obviously, I’ve just never done it before and I don’t want to end up in some greasy frat bed not knowing where to even start and then I’m just some scared college freshman who’s a virgin and I just—”
"呃，我是说——天啊，我知道这很怪，你说不我也不会难过。但就是，嗯，我要横穿整个国家去加州了对吧？加州人都很古怪，我不想显得比原本更格格不入，我就想着这个——这个至少能让我...怎么说，至少让我感觉自己知道在干什么，不会像个从科罗拉多乡下来的保守怪胎，连性爱是什么都不知道——当然这说法不对，因为我是知道的，显然，我只是从来没实践过。我不想最后躺在油腻的兄弟会床上手足无措，变成个畏手畏脚的大一新生，还是个处男，然后我就——"

     “Stan, just—shut up, okay?” His hands were smoothing out his rain-dampened features, and his breath was carefully shallow in the warm, moist forest stretched about them. “Shut up.” Teeth grazed over his lower lip, a slight exhale of something while his eyes wandered over the soaking landscape. “Sure. What the hell.”
“斯坦，你就——闭嘴，行吗？”他的双手抚过被雨水打湿的面庞，在周围温暖潮湿的森林里小心翼翼地屏着浅薄的呼吸。“闭嘴。”牙齿轻碾过下唇，伴随着某种情绪的轻微叹息，目光漫无目的地扫过湿透的景色。“好啊。管他呢。”

     “Are you, uh, sure?”
“你，呃，确定吗？”

     “Yes, I consent, Stan.”
“是的，我同意，斯坦。”

     “That’s not what I—!”
“我不是这个意思——！”

     But Craig had already begun trudging through the muddy, grassy slush back towards the lake house, hands shoved into his jean pockets, striding at a pace that startled Stan at first, but not fast enough to where he couldn’t catch up. The nighttime symphony that surrounded seemed to swallow and suffocate the two boys whole—the rushing pour of rain that had only increased in its intensity, the violent splashing as it fell onto the lake, and their interchanging breaths as the yellow-glow house—promises of a cooler, dryer interior—grew larger before them. Craig’s fingers were perched on the sliding glass door that opened up into the kitchen—partially because it was closest to the staircase leading to the house’s bedrooms, and partially because he had little interest in explaining to everyone else why both Stan and himself had chosen to call it a night at the very same time, when he could still hear the sounds of laughter and swearing breaking through the night’s chorus. He carefully gnawed his lower lip between his teeth—he could still taste the metallic sting of what Stan had done.
但克雷格已经迈开步子，踩着泥泞湿滑的草甸朝湖滨别墅走去，双手深插在牛仔裤口袋里。他起初的步幅大得让斯坦有些吃惊，却又没快到让人追不上的程度。吞噬着两个男孩的夜之交响曲愈发汹涌——渐强的倾盆雨声，暴雨砸落湖面激起的激烈水花，以及他们交替的喘息声。那栋泛着暖黄灯光的房子——承诺着更凉爽干燥的室内空间——在他们眼前逐渐放大。克雷格的手指搭在通往厨房的玻璃移门上，部分是因为这里离通往卧室的楼梯最近，部分是因为他实在懒得向其他人解释为何他和斯坦会同时选择离场——此刻他仍能听见笑声与咒骂穿透夜的交响。他小心翼翼地用牙齿碾着下唇，仍能尝到斯坦留下的金属般刺痛的味道。

     “You should head upstairs first.” Craig’s voice was low as the dim light of the kitchen welcomed them back inside, after he’d very cautiously slid open the door to grant them entrance. “I think it’d be, uh, easier that way.” His nose scrunched. “Easier to explain.”
“你先上楼吧。”克雷格的声音压得很低，厨房昏暗的灯光迎接着他们回到屋内——他刚才小心翼翼地滑开门让他们进来。“我觉得这样...呃...比较省事。”他皱了皱鼻子。“比较好解释。”

     “You think their minds are immediately gonna jump to fucking just if we go upstairs together?” Stan stared up at him and furrowed his brow—it was a sight that Craig had to force himself to swallow and look away from.
“你觉得只要我们俩一起上楼，他们就会立刻想到我们在干那档子事？”斯坦仰头盯着他，眉头紧锁——这副表情让克雷格不得不强迫自己咽下某种冲动，移开视线。

     “It’s a very real possibility.” 
"这可能性相当大。"

     He could hear Stan’s soft exhale from beside him, and the resigned sigh.
他能听见身旁斯坦轻轻的呼气声，以及认命般的叹息。

     “You’re probably right.” When his eyes flickered towards Craig, swirling with mild exhaustion and—if he wasn’t mistaken—slight elatement , it took everything within Craig’s gangly, gangly form to not do something he might regret; Stan slipped past him towards the staircase—Craig suddenly remembered how rickety the thing was, and made a silent wish that his footsteps would be light enough so as not to cause alarm. “Oh, uh—” his hand hesitated above the railing, and there was a trace of something new in those eyes—a little bit like nerves. “Is there…anything I have to do…to prepare?” 
"你大概是对的。"当斯坦的目光转向克雷格时，那双眼睛里翻涌着淡淡的疲惫——如果没看错的话——还有一丝雀跃，克雷格用尽全身力气才克制住可能让自己后悔的冲动；斯坦从他身边溜向楼梯口，克雷格突然想起那玩意儿有多摇摇欲坠，暗自祈祷他的脚步能轻到不发出警报。"呃，那个——"斯坦的手在扶栏上方迟疑了片刻，眼神里闪过一丝陌生的情绪——像是紧张。"需要我...做些什么准备吗？"

     Oh, he really didn’t have a clue. Craig was torn between curving up his lips in such a way that would absolutely make Stan a flustered, upset wreck, and just saying something blatantly wrong to see if Stan would do it. Like that he has to jerk himself off first. Or oil up head to toe. However, what fell from his lips was actually neither of those options, and something Craig had never uttered in his life before his voice registered to his ears.
天，这家伙真是一点都不懂。克雷格内心挣扎着，既想勾起嘴角露出那种绝对会让斯坦面红耳赤、恼羞成怒的坏笑，又想说些明显离谱的话看看斯坦会不会照做。比如要求他必须先自己解决一次。或者全身涂满润滑油。但最终脱口而出的却都不是这些选项，而是克雷格这辈子从未想过会从自己嘴里说出来的话。

     “No, just try not to finger yourself too much at the thought of me.” 
“不，只是别光想着我就把自己玩得太嗨。”

     Ah. There it was—Stan’s fingernails audibly scraping against the railing he’d tightly grasped at his words, face a flushed matrimony of poorly disguised disgust and incredulity while he glared daggers at the boy. Maybe it was a little mean, but Craig thought he reserved the right to maintain some snark. He was doing Stan a favor, after all—sleeping with the dude and whatnot. Stan’s lips parted momentarily, as if he had thought of something to retaliate with, but they were quickly shut once more, as he resigned to simply roll his eyes and disappear up the staircase. Craig’s gaze stayed fixated onto the boy for as long as he could see him, and when he’d finally lost sight, he exhaled a breath he hadn’t even known was drumming tight inside his chest.
啊。就是这一刻——斯坦的指甲在栏杆上刮擦出声响，他因克雷格的话而死死攥住栏杆，脸上涨红着交织起难以掩饰的厌恶与难以置信，朝男孩投去刀锋般的瞪视。或许这有点刻薄，但克雷格认为自己有权保留几分讥诮。毕竟他是在帮斯坦的忙——和这家伙上床之类的。斯坦的嘴唇微微张开，仿佛想到了什么反驳的话，却又迅速抿紧，最终只是翻了个白眼消失在楼梯尽头。克雷格的视线一直黏着在那个男孩身上，直到再也看不见对方的身影，才将不知何时憋在胸口的闷气长长地吐了出来。

     When was the last time he had sex? He certainly wasn’t a virgin, but the most recent time he could properly remember had been with Tweek the summer before senior year had begun—they’d been broken up since the end of tenth grade, but, for all his stoicism and apathy, Craig could never bring himself to say no when the blond would text him late at night, begging and pleading for something he’d always find himself giving. Then, of course, there was the homecoming after-party at Clyde’s house this year, where both Bebe and himself had been plastered and he woke up lying next to her with bare, sticky skin brushing against the crumpled sheets of his best friend’s guest bedroom. It was a little bit ironic, considering the fact that both of them were gay, but Craig figured that—even if he couldn’t exactly remember it—at least he got to sleep with a woman once during his life. He was just lucky that she’d been on birth control for her acne, because he knew that with how far gone he’d been that night, there was no way he’d stumbled his way into wrapping a condom on. The thought of their spawn running around was enough to make him a little bit sick—he loved Bebe, he just didn’t know if they had enough good between the both of them to create a child that wouldn’t be mildly fucked in the head.
他上一次做爱是什么时候？他当然不是处男，但最近一次能清晰记起的性经历还是高三开始前的那个夏天与崔克——他们早在十年级结束时就已经分手，但尽管克雷格总表现得冷漠疏离，每当金发男孩深夜发来短信哀求时，他永远无法拒绝那些自己总会妥协的请求。当然还有今年克莱德家返校节派对后的烂醉之夜，他和贝比喝得酩酊大醉，醒来时发现彼此赤裸的黏腻肌肤正贴着好友家客房里皱巴巴的床单。这事儿其实有点讽刺，毕竟他俩都是同性恋，不过克雷格觉得——即便具体细节已经记不清——这辈子至少也算睡过女人了。幸好她当时为了治痘痘在吃避孕药，那晚他醉得连路都走不稳，绝对不可能记得戴套这回事。 想到他们的孩子到处乱跑的画面就让他有点反胃——他爱贝贝，只是不确定他们俩的基因能不能凑出个脑子没毛病的娃。

     God, was he seriously nervous about this? That would be the only godforsaken explanation as to why his mind had suddenly started wandering to what his hypothetical child with Bebe would’ve been like. There was only a slight tremble in his hands as he reached for a water bottle in one of the thick bags of necessities they’d brought to the lake house—he snapped it open and took a careful sip. He tried to reason with himself that there was literally no reason for him to be this on edge, Stan had never slept with anyone, ever. But then again, that almost made matters worse, didn’t it? He’d be his first, and regardless of what happened once this night had concluded, that much would be irreversible— irrefutable . No one ever forgot their first time; he could still remember his own during the winter break of tenth grade—a slow, hazy, thing with Tweek that’d left the both of them breathless and exhausted. That night, he’d snuck into his father’s study and choked down a shot of whatever amber liquid glistened inside the most aesthetic bottle he could find. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d forced himself to do it—maybe to calm whatever nerves had arisen—but at the present moment, Craig’s throat felt excessively dry. But–– no— he needed to be sober for this, he had to. It wouldn’t be fair, or right, or even all that enjoyable for either of them if Craig stumbled into the bedroom half-drunk on the dented cans of Twisted Tea they’d snuck into the lake house, all inhibitions evaporated into slimy crassness, gangly limbs moving of their own accord. Nasty. Drunk. So, he finished the water bottle, crunched it in his shaking hands, and tried not to sweat so much while he climbed up the awaiting staircase before him. Faintly, he wondered what would await him on the other side of the bedroom the boy had split with Kyle. Faintly, he felt a little bit bad that he’d be fucking him atop an old bed that was being shared between the friends , but then again, he’d never really gotten along with the quick-to-anger redhead, so he didn’t feel that much guilt. Besides, from what he’d heard, he was going off to school in New Jersey of all places, so he’d never have to see that constantly furrowed, inquisitively annoying face again. Unless he decided to hop on a train to New York, of course.
天啊，他居然真的在紧张这件事？这恐怕是唯一能解释为什么他脑子里突然开始幻想他和贝比假想中的孩子会是什么模样的该死理由了。当他伸手去够他们带来湖边别墅的厚重物资袋里的水瓶时，双手只有轻微的颤抖——他啪地拧开瓶盖，小心翼翼地抿了一口。他试图说服自己根本没有任何理由这么焦虑，斯坦明明从未和任何人上过床。但转念一想，这反而让事情更糟了，不是吗？他将成为斯坦的第一次，无论今晚结束后发生什么，这个事实都不可逆转——无可辩驳。没人会忘记自己的初夜；他至今仍记得十年级寒假时自己和特维克那次缓慢、朦胧的经历，让两人都气喘吁吁筋疲力尽。那晚他溜进父亲的书房，抓起能找到的最好看的瓶子里琥珀色的液体猛灌了一口。 他不太确定自己为何要强迫这么做——或许是为了安抚那些突然涌起的紧张情绪——但此刻，克雷格的喉咙干涩得过分。可是——不——他必须保持清醒，必须如此。如果他们中任何一人醉醺醺地闯进卧室，那些偷偷带进湖边别墅的凹罐 Twisted Tea 让所有克制都蒸发成黏腻的粗鄙，四肢像提线木偶般不受控制地摆动，那既不公平，也不正确，更谈不上什么愉悦。恶心。醉态。于是，他喝完水瓶里的水，用颤抖的手捏扁塑料瓶，在攀上眼前等候的楼梯时竭力不让汗水浸透衣衫。隐约地，他好奇与凯尔共用的卧室门后等待着自己的会是什么。隐约地，他为即将在朋友们合用的旧床上干那档子事感到些许愧疚，但转念一想，他本来就和那个一点就着的红发小子处不来，所以负罪感也没那么强烈。再说了，听说那家伙要去新泽西上学，这辈子都不用再看见那张总是皱着、烦人又爱打听的臭脸了。 除非他决定跳上开往纽约的火车。

     Fingers ghosted over the faded-gold doorknob, cloudy and cracked from years of careless use. When he slowly pushed inside, a generous creak filling the dampened silence, his quick-flicker eyes were met with a darkness that seemed to swallow the entire room, minus a large, patchwork quilt-covered bed before him, with a still figure resting atop–illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the window left ajar. If he couldn’t feel the piercing stare permeating through the lack of light, he’d almost think the boy had dozed off. But he knew he was being watched–– intently . A clammy sort of sweat began to prickle through Craig’s skin, and when he gulped, it was a noise that seemed to echo, mixed with the shallow breathing that wasn’t his own. Syrupy-slow, cautiously, carefully, he took steps towards the bed, shirking off his muddy shoes, faded jeans, and worn tee until he was boxer-bare in the gossamer glimmer of the moon, and Stan was staring up at him with those distinctively wide, wet eyes that seemed to search for something to yank out of his soul. He’d left his briefs on, too––presumably anxious about baring it all too soon for comfort, but it didn’t disturb Craig in the slightest. He remembered how this had felt all those years ago––slamming the lights all the way off because flushed skin in a starkly fluorescent glow seemed too private a task, and only stripping down to your boxers because once those were removed, there was nothing to separate you from the desperate heat pulsating, throbbing below. Whether it was the familiar sensation, or the dim lighting, Craig wasn’t sure, but an urge to protect and simply love this boy coursed through his veins like the current swell building in his boxers.
手指轻抚过褪色的金色门把手，经年累月的随意使用让它变得浑浊开裂。当他缓缓推门而入时，一声绵长的吱呀声划破了潮湿的寂静，他快速眨动的眼睛适应着仿佛要吞噬整个房间的黑暗——唯余窗前月光透过半掩的窗户，照亮那张拼布被褥覆盖的大床，以及床上静止的身影。若不是能感受到穿透黑暗的灼热视线，他几乎要以为男孩已经睡着了。但他知道自己正被——专注地——注视着。克雷格皮肤上渗出粘腻的汗珠，当他吞咽时，那声响似乎与不属于自己的浅促呼吸产生了回响。他如蜜糖流淌般缓慢、谨慎、小心地向床铺移动，褪去沾满泥泞的球鞋，褪色牛仔裤和破旧 T 恤，直到仅着四角内裤站在月光织就的薄纱中，而斯坦正用那双标志性的湿润大眼睛仰望着他，那目光仿佛要从他灵魂深处拽出什么。 他还穿着内裤——大概是担心过早袒露会让人不安，但这丝毫没影响到克雷格。他记得多年前也有过同样的感受——啪地关掉所有灯光，因为在惨白的荧光下泛红的肌肤显得太过私密，只脱到剩下四角裤，因为一旦连这个也除去，就再没什么能阻隔下方那股躁动灼热的脉动。不知是熟悉的触感还是昏暗的光线作祟，克雷格只觉血管里奔涌着保护这个男孩、单纯爱着这个男孩的冲动，如同他四角裤下逐渐胀起的浪潮。

     “Your eyes…” Stan murmured, head tilting almost imperceptibly to the side, as locks of Craig’s rain-moistened hair brushed his forehead––locks that he reached up to brush behind his ear, so swift that it almost appeared to be an automatic thing. “Do you really have to…stare at me like that?”
"你的眼睛……"斯坦低声呢喃，脑袋几乎难以察觉地向一侧倾斜，克雷格被雨水浸湿的发丝拂过他的前额——他抬手将那缕发丝别到对方耳后，动作快得近乎条件反射。"非得……这样盯着我看吗？"

     Both of them were flushed into oblivion now, and, well––could Craig really be faulted for sporting bedroom eyes when they were quite literally about to fuck in a bedroom? Instead of responding to the whine of a query, the taller boy pressed his lips down upon Stan’s own––softly, delicately, desperately . Craig didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed kissing someone as much as he did with Stan, and a mild resentment for his younger self bloomed in his chest the more he realized he could’ve had this for years, if not for the fatal mix of his tendency to hold a grudge mixed with his tendency towards apathy. The only sounds now falling into the warm, dark air around them were the slight moans and sucks as they each explored the other’s mouth—wet, hazy, and so overwhelmingly pleasurable that Craig’s hips began to buckle; carefully, without breaking the breathless in and out diving of their mouths, he placed a hand on Stan’s side and reversed their positions, so that Stan was straddling his lap while their clothed cocks brushed in a tense, slowly culminating friction. It was too much, too frazzling and stimulating and too good— but it wasn’t enough. Hunger, pangs of the thing, ached within his stomach––sharp and bright and forcing him to give the entirety of all his gangly, boyish desire to the ethereal, sweat-glistening boy pressed taut against his own slick frame. Jaw held precariously in his grasp, a slight parting to allow them air while his fingers grazed Stan’s ruby-flushed lower lip, the other hand belonging to Craig went to thumb the waistband of Stan’s boxers–– was that a Terrance & Philip pattern? —and gently lower them—until a cold, fidgety hand closed over his own.
此刻两人都已面红耳赤忘乎所以——当他们就差临门一脚要在卧室里真枪实弹时，克雷格那副情欲氤氲的眼神又有什么可指摘的？高个男孩没有回应那声带着呜咽的疑问，只是将双唇覆上斯坦的——轻柔地，细致地，又近乎绝望地。克雷格从未想过接吻能带来这般极乐，而当意识到若非自己年少时那股记仇与冷漠的致命混合，这本该是持续数年的欢愉时，胸腔里便泛起阵阵酸涩的悔意。此刻萦绕在温暖黑暗中的唯有唇舌交缠间溢出的细微呻吟与吮吸声，湿漉漉雾蒙蒙的快感汹涌得让克雷格腰眼发软；他小心翼翼保持着彼此喘息交织的深吻，一手扶住斯坦腰侧调转体位，让人跨坐在自己大腿上，隔着衣料摩擦的性器绷出缓慢堆积的灼热触感。这太过火了，太刺激太磨人又太美妙——却还远远不够。 饥饿感，那种东西的阵痛，在他胃里翻搅——尖锐、鲜明，迫使他将全部笨拙的少年渴望都倾注于这个紧贴在他汗湿身躯上的虚幻男孩。克雷格的手掌小心翼翼地托着斯坦的下巴，微微分开让他们得以呼吸，同时手指轻抚过斯坦泛着红晕的下唇，另一只手则探向斯坦的四角裤腰——那是《泰伦斯和菲利普》的图案吗？——正欲轻轻将其褪下，直到一只冰冷不安的手覆上了他的手背。

     “Um,” Stan’s voice was a breathy, trembling exhale in the pulsating heat of the bedroom––the ricketing springs of the weathered bed; Craig could see his tongue flicker over his lips in the moonlight bathing them, eyes seeming to consider something—quickly, rapidly, with a hand that grew warmer the longer it lay atop Craig’s.
“呃，”斯坦的声音在卧室燥热的空气里化作颤抖的喘息——老旧床垫的弹簧发出吱呀声响；月光倾泻中，克雷格看见他的舌尖快速掠过嘴唇，那只按在克雷格手背上的手温度逐渐升高，眼神似乎在急速思考着什么。

     “Everything good?” His voice came out huskier than he would’ve liked—a characteristic sign of the fiery-hot desire building to burst so long as Stan’s stupidly perfect self was still seated on top of him. “I’m not—” His cock throbbed in response to being so utterly ignored for the better part of this unfathomable night. “You know I’m not going to hurt you, right?”
“一切都好吗？”他的声音比预想的更沙哑——这是欲望在体内熊熊燃烧的典型征兆，只要斯坦这个完美得该死的家伙还坐在他身上。“我没有——”他的阴茎因被忽视了大半个难以理解的夜晚而抽痛着。“你知道我不会伤害你的，对吧？”

     “God, you’re making me sound like a little kid–– ” Stan’s face darkened into a flush as he turned away. “It’s just–– eugh— this is exactly why I wanted to do this now, so I don’t act like this in freaking California.”
“天啊，你说得我像个小孩似的——”斯坦转过脸时，红晕爬满了他的面颊。“只是——呃——这就是为什么我要现在做这件事，免得我他妈的在加州还这副德性。”

     Okay, more talk of Stan fucking nameless, faceless, likely morally corrupt Californians while Craig was across the goddamn country. But Craig wasn’t jealous , because that would be weird and stupid and entirely illogical, given the fact that, you know, despite the fact that Craig’s dick was about to be inside of him, he had zero relationship with Stan. If anything, he thought Stan was talking way too much and way too nonsensically for someone who’d been so overwhelmingly desperate to have sex, and it was increasingly causing Craig pain both physical and mental.
好吧，又来了，斯坦要跟那些无名无姓、道德败坏的加州人乱搞，而克雷格却远在该死的美国另一头。但克雷格并不嫉妒，因为这既奇怪又愚蠢，而且完全不合逻辑，毕竟，尽管克雷格的阴茎即将进入斯坦体内，他们之间根本没有任何关系。要说有什么，他觉得斯坦话太多又太语无伦次，对于一个刚才还饥渴得要命的人来说，这正给克雷格带来日益加剧的身心折磨。

     “Yeah, uh— um, ” Craig needed Stan’s boxers off, like, yesterday —he quickly yanked off his own once he’d realized they’d gone sticky with precum. “I’m going to take these––” Stan’s grip lessened, and Craig’s free hand returned to the boy’s waistband once more, “—off, now. Is that okay?”
“嗯，呃——那个，”克雷格急需斯坦脱掉内裤，简直迫不及待——他迅速扯下自己的内裤，发现它们已经被前液弄得黏糊糊的。“我要把这些——”斯坦的抓握松开了，克雷格空出的手再次回到男孩的裤腰上，“——现在脱掉。可以吗？”

     “Please,” came Stan’s frenzied, gasped murmur of confirmation.
“求你了，”斯坦喘着气急促地低声确认道。

     “I’m gonna take care of you, alright? I’m going to–” his fingers flew to Stan’s hole, met with a cracked, strained yowl from above as he began to insert his index, carefully easing the boy into rutting his hips against him, “—take care of you–– fuck, Stan, you’re so—”
“我会照顾好你的，好吗？我要——”他的手指探向斯坦的后穴，上方立刻传来一声破碎而紧绷的呻吟，当他开始缓缓插入食指时，小心引导着男孩将胯部抵向他摩擦，“——照顾好你的——操，斯坦，你太——”

     Craig’s head knocked back against the sweat-glistened sheets, spare hand groping the mattress until he found the tiny bottle of lube that’d fallen from his jeans before he’d jumped Stan out of his. He could fuck him raw, of course, but this was Stan’s first time, and he wasn’t particularly keen on tearing the boy open. He twisted off the cap with his teeth, spitting it onto the floor before removing the finger from Stan, slathering some of the translucent substance onto his dexterities, and returning inside—though this time, welcoming a second, as well. God, Stan was so tight that it was sending Craig’s mind up high, high, high into a state of bliss he didn’t want to ever return from. All for him, only for Craig, not for some sick Californian degenerate with a stupidly lazy voice and a sun-burnt tan. His fingers felt slick—a shuddered gasp came from above as he pulled them out—while he carefully entered Stan with his own throbbing length from below. He could hear a sharp whine from above, and the stilted, rhythmic inhale and exhales of Stan’s chest––glowy with sweat in the milky darkness. It seemed as though the boy couldn’t bring himself to say much at all—opting instead for a convoluted myriad mixture of breathless, airy moans and boyish cries that melted into Craig’s mind like the drip, drip, dripping of sweat on a fervent summer’s day. Both of them were enjoying this, that much was easily apparent, as Stan seemed to take Craig’s cock within him as though he were made for nothing less, and the taller boy in turn tried in vain to keep his vision straight as sharp bursts of pleasurable shocks traversed through his trembling frame. His teeth were tightly pressed together, in the grinding sort of way his dentist had chastised him about for years, but he felt there was nothing else he could really do at the moment. 
克雷格的后脑勺重重抵在汗湿发亮的床单上，空着的那只手在床垫上胡乱摸索，终于找到从牛仔裤里掉出来的那瓶小号润滑剂——就在他把斯坦从自己裤子里拽出来之前。他当然可以直接硬来，但这是斯坦的第一次，他并不想把这男孩生生撕裂。他用牙齿拧开瓶盖，将盖子吐到地板上，抽出了埋在斯坦体内的手指，往灵巧的指节抹上些透明黏液，再度探入——这次还加入了第二根手指。天啊，斯坦紧致得让克雷格的意识不断攀升、攀升、攀升，陷入他永远不愿醒来的极乐之境。这一切都属于他，只属于克雷格，而不是某个操着慵懒蠢腔调、晒得黝黑的加州变态。当他在下方将自己悸动的炽热缓缓顶入时，能感受到手指抽离时上方传来战栗的喘息——斯坦汗涔涔的胸膛在乳白幽暗中起伏，发出断断续续的急促呼吸与细微呜咽。 男孩似乎无法说出完整的句子——取而代之的是一连串混乱的喘息、轻盈的呻吟与少年气的呜咽，这些声音如同盛夏酷暑中滴落的汗珠般渗入克雷格的意识。两人显然都沉醉其中，斯坦接纳克雷格阴茎的模样仿佛生来就该如此，而高个少年则徒劳地试图保持视线稳定，阵阵快感如电流般窜过他战栗的身躯。他的牙齿紧紧咬合，正是牙医多年来警告他会磨损牙釉质的那种方式，但此刻他实在别无选择。

     “Shit… shit, shit, shit— Craig, I’m–– ah– –” Stan’s warble of a voice was light, yet heavy with the weight of thick-gilded pleasure, and a bead of his sweat dropped below Craig’s parted lips. 
"操...操，操，操——克雷格，我要——啊——"斯坦颤抖的声线既轻盈又承载着鎏金般浓稠的快感，一滴汗珠坠落在克雷格微张的唇间。

     Craig readjusted his grip so that his hands were tightly secured around the boy’s hips, thumbs massaging the careful divots in his body as he felt the pressure within Stan increase in tension with each fleeting second. His whole frame seemed to be caught in a state of shivering, head hanging low as the unmistakable look of clouded, pleasurably painful bliss contorted his features. It was beautiful— Craig didn’t really have any other suitable word for it, and so that was the consistent thought echoing within his mind the longer he held Stan in this position––beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Maybe it was foolish––willingly stupid, even––to be daring to think along such lines, when he meant nothing to the Stan and Stan meant nothing to him, and they would lead separate lives once this retreat––once this moment, really, had come to its inevitable end, but for now, with his mind blissfully blank and his body full of trembling pleasure, he allowed himself to be without reason. And with a sharp, piercing cry, he felt Stan’s hot, sticky residue slick against his chest. Not long after, perhaps stirred by Stan’s violent, evocative burst, Craig felt himself release inside of the boy, thick ropes of white spilling from outside the boy’s hole and disastrously tainting the bed they lay in. Craig could’ve sworn there were glittery stars swarming his vision after he came—but that could’ve been due to lack of use, because touching himself with a drugstore bottle of lotion and tissues from a scratchy box was absolutely nothing in comparison to actually feeling someone wrapped tightly around his pulsating cock. 
克雷格调整了姿势，双手牢牢扣住男孩的髋骨，拇指摩挲着他腰际精巧的凹陷。随着每一秒流逝，他都能感受到斯坦体内不断攀升的紧绷感。斯坦整个人都在颤抖，低垂的头颅下，那张被快感折磨得近乎痛苦的面容扭曲着——美得惊心动魄。克雷格找不到更贴切的词汇，于是这个念头随着他禁锢斯坦的姿势在脑海中不断回响：美极了，美极了，美极了。或许这么想很蠢——简直是自欺欺人——毕竟他对斯坦而言什么都不是，斯坦于他亦如此。等这场避世之旅——不，确切说是此刻——迎来必然的终结，他们就会分道扬镳。但此刻，放任自己沉溺在空白的欢愉与战栗的快感里，他甘愿做个不讲道理的傻瓜。随着一声尖锐的呜咽，斯坦滚烫黏稠的体液溅上了他的胸膛。 没过多久，或许是被斯坦那场激烈而撩人的爆发所刺激，克雷格感到自己在男孩体内释放了，浓稠的白浊液体从男孩穴口溢出，灾难性地玷污了他们身下的床单。高潮过后，克雷格发誓自己看到了闪烁的星星在视野里飞舞——但这可能只是因为他太久没做爱了，毕竟用便利店买的乳液和粗糙纸盒里的纸巾自慰，与真实感受某人紧紧包裹着自己脉动阴茎的体验完全无法相提并论。

     Slowly, he pulled out of Stan, gossamer strands of translucent release stretching between, and nearly as if his cock had been what was holding the boy up, Stan collapsed next to him atop the ruined, sticky bed. Breath–– warm, shaking, and moist —brushed against the side of his face, and for a great many moments, it seemed to be the only noise Stan had the capacity to exude. While he lay face-down on the mattress, Craig’s hands were folded across his bare, heaving chest, as he stared up into the deep expanse of nothingness the ceiling had to offer, absent of his own convoluted thoughts, of course. 
他缓缓从斯坦体内退出，半透明的精液拉出细丝，几乎像是他的阴茎原本支撑着男孩的重量。斯坦瘫软在他身旁，倒在狼藉黏腻的床单上。温热、颤抖而湿润的呼吸拂过克雷格脸颊，在很长一段时间里，这似乎是斯坦唯一能发出的声音。当斯坦面朝下趴在床垫上时，克雷格双手交叠在赤裸起伏的胸前，凝视着天花板那片虚无的深渊——当然，此刻他纷乱的思绪已荡然无存。

     “How…” the words felt thick and heavy as they fell from Craig’s chapped lips, “—was it?”
“怎么…”这个词从克雷格干裂的唇间滚落时显得格外滞重，“——感觉？”

     Stan offered up a light groan in response, though when he forced his body back over to lean towards Craig, there was a sweat-glimmering shimmer to his face that could only ever be wrought from having experienced unmistakable pleasure. His eyes were languid, but remained as captivating as ever—when Craig was caught in their sight, it was like he could feel his heart threatening to crawl up and out of his throat. A lopsided, exhausted tilt of his lips, an exhale from his nose that brushed against Craig’s skin––the language of his slow, careful movements conveyed more than could ever be verbally uttered. No, though, this was a one-time thing, right? A quick favor between cautious acquaintances with nothing of any emotional stake tainting it––thoughtless, mindless, purely skin against skin and something to forget. 
斯坦用一声轻哼作为回应，当他强迫自己转身倾向克雷格时，那张汗水晶莹的脸庞只可能源自确凿无疑的欢愉。他的眼神慵懒却一如既往地摄人心魄——当克雷格被这目光捕获时，仿佛能感觉到自己的心脏正试图从喉咙里爬出来。歪斜疲惫的嘴角，拂过克雷格皮肤的鼻息——那些缓慢谨慎动作里的语言，胜过千言万语。不，不过，这只是一次性的对吧？两个谨慎熟人之间不带感情色彩的举手之劳——无需思考，无需走心，纯粹肌肤相亲然后相忘于江湖。

     But, as Stan continued to stay silent, and his eyes slowly drifted shut with his head lax in the crook of Craig’s neck, his breathing effortlessly slow and calm, Craig began to think that something had irreversibly changed between them, something that he didn’t think he’d ever be truly able to forget.
然而，当斯坦继续保持沉默，脑袋无力地枕在克雷格颈窝里，眼皮缓缓垂下，呼吸平稳而舒缓时，克雷格开始意识到他们之间有什么东西已经不可逆转地改变了——那种他觉得自己永远都无法真正遗忘的改变。

—

     An hour had come to pass in the thick, stagnant silence of the room, punctuated only by the steady breaths of the sleeping boy beside him. Craig’s eyes drifted downwards to the mess of dampened black hair pressed up against his chest—limbs splaying each and every way—before they flickered up to the window ajar. In this hour of the night, the moon was still boldly luminescent in all of its unwavering shine––the rain had also stopped, the absence of the rhythmic noise allowing Craig to become more acquainted with his mind, as it spun circles around him. He couldn’t fall asleep––for starters, this wasn’t even his bed , and he was pretty sure he’d rather skip the inevitable fallout that’d occur if Kyle were to walk in and see the two of them laying naked together. So, cloaked by the darkness of the room, he pulled his wrinkled garments back on and tried to fix the bed as best he could while a body still slept atop of it. As for the stickiness in the sheets—there was really nothing Craig could do besides pray that Stan would just muster up a cover of jerking himself off. Flickering his phone on, the time read half past two in the morning, and surely whatever card games everyone else had lost themselves in weren’t captivating enough to keep them awake for much longer. Before he crept out of the room, his eyes wandered back to Stan’s sleeping form once more––but he didn’t know what he was expecting to find, besides the rise and fall of his still-bare chest. He stood there—lingered with one foot out the door but his mind still lost in the haze of an hour prior––for a time that likely would’ve been thought of as creepy, had the boy been awake. But he wasn’t—he was sleeping rather sound—so Craig stared for only a second more before carefully shutting the bedroom door behind him.
一小时在房间凝滞的寂静中流逝，唯有身旁熟睡男孩均匀的呼吸声偶尔打破沉寂。克雷格的目光缓缓下移，望向那团抵在他胸口的潮湿黑发——四肢以各种角度摊开着——随后又飘向微开的窗户。此刻的月亮依然无畏地绽放着恒久不变的光辉，雨也停了，规律的雨声消失后，克雷格更能清晰地听见自己脑海中盘旋的思绪。他无法入睡——首先这根本不是他的床，而且他相当确定自己宁可避开凯尔推门撞见他们赤身裸体躺在一起时必然爆发的冲突。于是借着房间的黑暗，他重新套上皱巴巴的衣物，尽量在不惊醒床上人的情况下整理被褥。至于床单上的黏腻——克雷格除了祈祷斯坦能编个自慰的借口外，实在无计可施。 他点亮手机屏幕，凌晨两点半的荧光在黑暗中格外刺眼。想必其他人沉迷的纸牌游戏也不足以支撑他们继续清醒多久。蹑手蹑脚离开房间前，他的目光又一次流连在斯坦熟睡的身影上——其实他也不知道自己究竟在期待什么，除了对方裸露胸膛的规律起伏。他杵在门口——一只脚跨出门槛，思绪却仍沉浸在一小时前朦胧的暧昧里——这般停留的时长若被当事人发现，绝对会被当成变态。但斯坦没有醒来，他正睡得香甜，所以克雷格只多凝视了一秒，便轻轻带上了卧室门。

     “Slut.”  “荡妇。”

     What he wasn’t expecting was to very nearly jump out of his skin at the feminine hiss far too close to him than he ever would’ve liked. It was Bebe, because of course it was Bebe, in all of her narrow-eyed, arms-folded-across-her-chest beauty. Maybe complimenting that beauty right now would allow him to weasel out of this conundrum he’d found himself caught in. Or, he could just freak out instead, the more likely course of action.
他万万没料到会听见近在咫尺的女性低语，近得让他差点魂飞魄散。果然是贝蓓，除了这个眯着眼睛、双臂环抱的漂亮姑娘还能是谁。或许此刻赞美她的美貌能帮他摆脱困境，但更可能的情况是——他选择当场崩溃，这确实比较符合他的作风。

     “What the fuck are you doing right there?” He had half a mind to slap her, but based on what she’d barked at him in years past–– ”Gay men can still be misogynistic, you know!” “What if I hit you on account of lesbophobia instead, since you’re my least favorite lesbian in this entire fucking world?” “Then I’d chop off your dick so you can’t stick it in slutty dudes anymore!” —it wouldn’t be a very smart idea.
“你他妈在那儿干什么？”他差点想扇她一巴掌，但鉴于她过去那些咆哮——“男同照样可以厌女，懂吗！”“要是我以恐同女同的罪名揍你呢？毕竟你可是这操蛋世界里我最讨厌的蕾丝边！”“那我就剁了你的鸡巴，看你还怎么插那些骚货！”——这显然不是个明智的主意。

     “God, I knew you two were fucking!” She jabbed a manicured finger into his chest. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”
“天啊，我就知道你们俩有一腿！”她涂着指甲油的手指猛戳他的胸口，“我早知道了，早知道了，早知道了！”

     “Get off of me, you brat!” He tried to swallow down his anger but ultimately failed just a little bit miserably, his face an undeniable mixture of embarrassment and indignation. 
“从我身上滚开，臭小鬼！”他试图咽下怒火，却还是可悲地失败了，脸上交织着显而易见的窘迫与愤慨。

     But, like a rapid, blonde little dog with a bone, Bebe flashed those glittering teeth at him and looked like she’d just stumbled upon an intoxicatingly rare secret. And, from what he could sense—standing far too close to the girl and all—she was also quite literally intoxicated , and if there was anyone more pestersome than sober Bebe, it was absolutely drunk Bebe. Though she wasn’t so far gone that her speech treaded the water of being little more than a dazed slur, she still bore a look that suggested a tendency to pry more than usual. He wondered if she’d fall over if he gave a slight shove. Better not to test that theory, though, because he’d just found the perfect subject to switch this whispered, hushed conversation of accusations to—the unnatural swell of the girl’s lips, along with several maroon marks painting her neck. And he was supposed to be the slut.
但就像一只叼着骨头的金毛小疯狗，贝蓓冲他露出闪亮的牙齿，仿佛刚发现一个令人醉心的罕见秘密。而从他近距离观察到的迹象来看——这姑娘实在靠得太近了——她确实已经醉得不轻。如果说清醒的贝蓓已经够烦人，那喝醉的贝蓓绝对更胜一筹。虽然她还没醉到口齿不清的地步，但那眼神明显透露出比平时更旺盛的窥探欲。他琢磨着要是轻轻推一把，这姑娘会不会直接栽倒。不过最好别验证这个假设，因为他刚找到转移这场窃窃私语式质问的完美话题——女孩不自然肿胀的嘴唇，以及颈间几处暗红色的吻痕。明明他才是该被骂荡夫的那个。

     “I’m not going to be reprimanded by someone who probably just got done digging her fingers inside of Testaburger!” Taking advantage of the girl’s widened eyes, he quickly grabbed her shoulders and twisted her around so that she was facing her own room— not him—and stumbled through the darkness until he safely ducked into the room he was sharing with Clyde—who apparently hadn’t turned in for the night just yet.
“我可不想被一个刚用手指在特丝特伯格身上摸来摸去的人教训！”趁女孩瞪大眼睛的瞬间，他迅速抓住她的肩膀将她扭转过去，让她面朝自己的房间——而不是他——随后在黑暗中跌跌撞撞地冲进了与克莱德共用的房间，显然这位室友此刻还没睡下。

     After the sudden adrenaline of that brief encounter with Bebe, Craig felt the exhaustion of the night weighing heavily on his bones as he collapsed onto the bed. He felt disgusting—his jeans stuck uncomfortably to his sweat-dried skin, remnants of release surely staining. There was a Jack-and-Jill bathroom adjoining their bedroom to Butters and Kenny’s—meaning he could shower now if he really wanted to. He knew he probably should, he knew that the flush of cool water would bring him down from wherever his head was floating now, but for some odd reason, he didn’t want to clean off the only traces of Stan his body still held. So, he pulled the blankets over his dirty clothes—likely something Clyde would yell at him for come morning—and shut his eyes, falling fast into a fitful sleep of warm, wet eyes and pitchy, lustful moans.
与贝比那次短暂相遇的肾上腺素激增过后，克雷格瘫倒在床上时，只觉得整晚的疲惫深深渗入骨髓。他觉得自己恶心极了——牛仔裤黏在汗湿后干涸的皮肤上，释放的痕迹肯定还残留着。他们卧室与巴特斯、肯尼的房间之间有个共用卫生间，意味着他现在真想洗澡的话随时可以去。他知道自己或许该去冲个凉，知道冰冷的水流能把他从飘忽的精神状态里拽回来，但某种古怪的念头让他不愿洗去身上仅存的斯坦的气息。于是他拽过毯子盖住脏兮兮的衣服——明早克莱德肯定会为此吼他——闭上眼睛，迅速坠入一场交织着温热泪眼与沙哑情欲呻吟的浅眠。

—

     When he woke in the morning, his throat felt scratchy and parched; drool had crusted below his lips from the aggressive sunlight burning through his retinas—whoever had left the bedroom before him— Clyde— had left the curtains and blinds wide open. Though, he supposed he deserved as much for throwing his filthy self onto their shared bed, which was currently in a state of disarray that Craig had absolutely zero intention on remedying. It was summer, after all. Blindly reaching for his phone—which had fallen to the floor, uncharged because he’d been too exhausted last night—he could feel a headache beginning to thrum in his head when he saw that it was almost one in the afternoon. Clearly nobody in the house had bothered to wake him. Maybe he should shower first, but the sandpaper-like sensation in his throat was too annoying to ignore, so he crawled out of the bed and headed downstairs towards the kitchen, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. 
清晨醒来时，他的喉咙干涩发痒；刺眼的阳光穿透视网膜，在下巴处留下干涸的口水印——显然先离开卧室的克莱德把窗帘和百叶窗都大敞着。不过他想自己活该，谁让他浑身脏兮兮地直接扑在他们共用的床上，现在那床铺乱得像是被龙卷风袭击过，而克雷格丝毫没有整理的打算。毕竟是夏天嘛。他摸索着去够掉在地板上的手机——昨晚累得连充电都忘了——当看到时间已接近下午一点时，太阳穴开始突突跳动。显然家里没人费心叫他起床。或许该先冲个澡，但砂纸般粗糙的喉部实在难以忽视，于是他揉着惺忪睡眼爬下床，摇摇晃晃地朝楼下厨房走去。

     Stark green eyes locked with his own the moment he stumbled into the kitchen, however—peering intently at him over a steaming mug that read Vagitarian , a gag gift he’d given the mussy-haired blonde for her birthday a year or so prior.
他一头撞进厨房时，那双锐利的绿眼睛立刻锁住了他——凌乱金发的主人正透过"素食主义者"字样的马克杯上方直勾勾地盯着他，杯口还冒着热气。这个恶搞礼物是他一年多前送给她的生日礼物。

     “You slept for like, twelve hours. There’s no way that twink rocked your world that much.” Her eyes tracked his movement as he rolled his own and shoved her aside to crack open another water bottle. 
"你睡了快十二个小时。那个小白脸不可能把你折腾得这么惨吧。"她目光紧跟着他的动作，看着他翻了个白眼把她推开，又拧开一瓶矿泉水。

     “You know I could say the exact same thing to you, right?” 
"你知道这话我原封不动还给你也成立吧？"

     “No, actually, because what Wendy and I have has been on and off like this for years— meanwhile, you’re sticking your dick in Stan the second we graduate, even though, to be honest, you’ve been staring at him like that since ninth grade. What the fuck happened last night?” Her brows raised impossibly higher with each word she spoke, and though he had just woken up from a twelve hour slumber—just as she said—he suddenly felt a strong inclination to climb back into that unmade bed.
"才怪，我和温蒂分分合合这么多年了——可你呢？毕业典礼刚结束就把老二塞进斯坦腿间，老实说从九年级开始你就用那种眼神盯着他看了。昨晚到底他妈发生了什么？"她每说一个字眉毛就扬得更高，尽管正如她所说他才从十二小时昏睡中醒来——此刻却突然强烈渴望钻回那团凌乱的被窝里。

     “It’s too early for this.”
“现在说这个太早了。”

     “It’s one. ”
“一点了。”

     “Fuck you.”  “去你的。”

     “You already did that, and it was the worst sex I’ve ever had, by the way.” She handed him a granola bar and he begrudgingly took it with a sigh, collapsing into an askew chair by the dining area’s table and pinching the bridge of his nose––a tired huff of air left the girl’s chest as she moved to sit next to him, with hair that carried those oddly comforting traces of stale alcohol and perpetual bubblegum. “I guess I’m not really surprised—” a snort lightly shook her sleep-flattened curls, “—just kinda stunned. Never thought you’d actually have the balls to go on and do that before you both fled across the country.” Her lips returned to the mug, smooth, pungent coffee trickling down her throat. “So, what happens now?”
“反正你已经干过了，顺便说一句，那是我经历过最糟糕的性体验。”她扔给他一根燕麦棒，他不情不愿地接住，叹了口气瘫倒在餐桌旁歪斜的椅子里，捏着鼻梁——女孩在他身旁坐下时，呼出一声疲惫的叹息，发丝间飘着那种奇异地令人安心的陈年酒精和永久泡泡糖混合的气息。“我猜我其实不怎么惊讶——”她打了个轻哼，睡塌的卷发随之轻颤，“——就是有点懵。没想到你们俩在各自逃往全国两端之前，还真有胆量干这事。”她的嘴唇重新贴上马克杯，丝滑浓烈的咖啡滑入喉咙。“所以，现在怎么办？”

     “I don’t know.” The words stumbled out of his mouth, as he stared out the sliding-glass door at the excessively bright day outside—so beautiful, it was actually making him a little bit irritated. “I wish I could just–– eugh, nevermind.”
“我不知道。”这句话从他嘴里磕磕绊绊地冒出来，他盯着落地玻璃门外过分明媚的白天——如此美好，反而让他有点烦躁。“我真希望可以——呃，算了。”

     Bebe said nothing, just hummed with a tone Craig couldn’t decipher the meaning of and continued drinking her coffee. Pushing air through his teeth, he unwrapped the bar she’d handed him and took a small bite. It was disgusting—an unholy matrimony of unpleasant staleness, overwhelmingly artificial blueberry, and chalky protein additive. He could still feel a dull hunger simmering in his stomach, but quite frankly, he’d rather starve than put that thing into his mouth once more. Furthermore, it was his creeping inclination that the hunger he felt wasn’t for food at all.
贝蓓什么也没说，只是用一种克雷格无法解读的语调轻哼着，继续喝她的咖啡。他咬着牙呼出一口气，拆开她递来的能量棒咬了一小口。难吃得要命——简直是陈腐味道、人工蓝莓香精和粉状蛋白添加剂的邪恶结合体。他仍能感觉到胃里隐隐作痛的饥饿感，但老实说，他宁愿饿着也不想再碰那玩意一口。更何况，他隐约觉得这种饥饿感根本与食物无关。

     “This tastes like crap.”
“这玩意儿尝起来像屎。”

     “I wasn’t in charge of bringing the snacks.”
“带零食又不是我的任务。”

     “No, but your fucking health-nut girlfriend was, huh?” His lips curved upwards into a sardonic sort of expression—there was no real malice in his voice, and Bebe, ever the sharpened wit, grinned with her signature pearly, seemingly serrated teeth.
“不，但你那个该死的健康狂女友在，对吧？”他嘴角扬起一抹讥讽的弧度——声音里其实并无恶意，而向来伶牙俐齿的贝蓓则露出她那标志性的珍珠般却似带锯齿的笑容。

     “Better a health-nut than a whiny little bitch-boy.” She knocked her thigh against his with a bright, saccharine smile. “Hey, they’re all outside right now, you know. It’s fucking hot, so they went down to the lake.”
“当健康狂总比当个爱哭的娘娘腔强。”她带着甜得发腻的灿烂笑容，用大腿撞了他一下。“嘿，他们现在都在外面呢。天太热了，都去湖边了。”

     “Why didn’t you go with them? Missed opportunity to see Testaburger’s tiny little tits in a tiny little bikini.” He relished in the way she mock-scowled at him, as he knocked her thigh back while leveling a self-satisfied look her way.
“你怎么不跟他们去？错过看特斯塔伯格穿小比基尼秀小咪咪的机会了。”他享受着她对他假意皱眉的表情，回撞她大腿的同时投去一个自鸣得意的眼神。

     “I was waiting for you to wake up, bitch. Besides, you don’t even want to know what I was doing to those ‘tiny little tits’ last night.” Those glistening teeth bit down on her bruised lips while she crossed a knee over her leg, examining her short-nail manicure with a wicked grin.
“我在等你这个贱人醒过来啊。再说了，你根本不想知道我昨晚是怎么玩弄那对‘小咪咪’的。”她咬着淤血的嘴唇，翘起二郎腿，一边检视着自己短指甲的美甲，一边露出邪恶的笑容。

     “You’re fucking gross.”
“你真他妈恶心。”

     “But you lo-o-ove me.” 
“但你爱~死~我~了~”

     Craig snickered and half-heartedly shoved the blonde before rising to his feet. Residual traces of dried… fluids still stuck uncomfortably to his skin, but a fresh, glimmering lake sounded a lot more promising than the tiny shower upstairs. What was more, the thought of seeing the exhaustive summer sun refract against a certain someone’s pale, sparkling skin slick with lakewater was enough to provoke the restless beading of cool sweat along the back of his neck. 
克雷格窃笑着，半心半意地推了推金发男孩，随即站起身来。干涸的...体液仍黏腻地附着在皮肤上，但比起楼上狭小的淋浴间，波光粼粼的湖水显然更具吸引力。更重要的是，想到能看见盛夏骄阳如何在那人沾满湖水的苍白肌肤上折射出细碎光芒，就足以让他后颈沁出冰凉的汗珠。

     “I’m gonna go get changed,” he called over his shoulder, mind already a haphazard mess of inky, sopping wet hair and sun-bestowed flush, “See you outside.”
“我去换衣服，”他头也不回地喊道，脑海中早已浮现出湿漉漉的黑发与烈日染红的肌肤交织的画面，“外面见。”

     “Hey, and by the way, you better wash those fucking sheets before we leave!” Bebe’s clipped voice trailed him up the staircase, but he paid it little regard—there were matters of far more significance swimming through his mind.
“喂，顺便说一句，走之前你最好把那该死的床单洗了！”贝蓓尖利的声音追着他上了楼梯，但他几乎没在意——此刻有更重要的事情在他脑海中翻涌。

—

     Craig didn’t think that he’d ever be one to swoon . Trusty apathy and little care for others in terms of the societal idea of romance had carried him far in life—once things had officially ended between him and Tweek, he didn’t find a replacement because he didn’t need a replacement, the only people in his life worthy of occupying space in his thoughts and presence before his eyes were his friends—few, but tight-knit—and family—a mother, a father, and thankfully, just one slightly aggravating younger sister. Besides, he never really enjoyed the way “liking” someone had made him feel— that awful, overwhelming amalgamation of sudden self-awareness of just how stupidly awkward you truly were, and an inability to not feel like you had approximately one trillion snipers trained on you at the exact same time, ready to fire you into oblivion the moment you uttered something wrong—a very high, very likely probability. It was like you had zero control over your actions or thoughts. Like you’d been rendered eternally helpless and stupid. However, Stan had always been something of an outlier in this realm of thinking he’d held—they’d never been close enough throughout high school for him to truly become attached to the boy, but the arms-length distance they’d created had allowed Craig to subtly perceive him from afar, and therefore, foster the festering of something awkward and unwelcome to stir within his gut. It wasn’t something he could’ve acted on then—not like he particularly wanted to—but now that they had this, a week-long trip before college in a secluded lake house—and they’d just finished eating each other’s face and memorizing the divots in each other’s bodies the night prior, Craig felt that horrible, heat-stroke sensation once more. 
克雷格从未想过自己会成为那种为爱痴狂的人。可靠的冷漠态度和对社会定义的浪漫关系缺乏兴趣，让他一路走来都游刃有余——自从和特维克正式分手后，他再没找过替代品，因为他根本不需要。在他生命中值得占据思绪与视线的人，只有那些寥寥无几却情同手足的朋友，以及家人——母亲、父亲，谢天谢地，外加一个偶尔惹人烦的妹妹。况且，他实在讨厌"喜欢"上某人时那种糟糕透顶的感觉：突然意识到自己笨拙得可笑的自省，以及仿佛同时被一万个狙击手瞄准的窒息感，只要说错半句话就会万劫不复——这种可能性简直高得离谱。就像你彻底失去了对言行思想的掌控权，永远沦为可悲又愚蠢的傀儡。 然而斯坦始终是他这种思维模式中的异类——整个高中时期他们都未曾亲近到足以让他对男孩产生依恋，但刻意保持的距离反而让克莱格得以在远处微妙地观察他，从而滋长出某种令人不适的躁动在胃里翻搅。那时他无法采取行动——也不是说他特别想那样做——但现在他们拥有了这个，大学前为期一周的僻静湖畔小屋之旅，而昨晚他们才刚啃咬完彼此的嘴唇，熟记了对方身体的每一处凹陷，克莱格再次感受到那种可怕的中暑般眩晕感。

     Feet hard-pressed into the cheap foam of unpleasantly stiff flip-flops, his eyes scanned the jubilant, reckless scene before him from where he stood, half-concealed by the trunk of a billowing tree. In a way, he felt like a creep, standing there with his limbs unmoving and eyes alert—watching with still focus on only one person in particular. Stan wore a bright grin on his face—the kind that crinkled your eyes and made everything else about you seem that much more enticing and utterly impossible to ignore—from where he sat atop of Kyle’s freckled shoulders, engaged in what appeared to be a game of chicken as he made efforts to shove Butters off of Kenny. Feet kicking in the sparkling lake water, Wendy’s head was tilted to the side as she watched the amusing event play out—Clyde, on the other hand, was up to his waist in the water next to her legs, yelling out hoots and cheers as the boys continued their roughhousing. It was only Craig and Bebe who were absent, though none of the others seemed to be paying it much mind. Faintly, he zeroed in on Wendy, and saw a maroon mark just below her jaw that matched some of the ones Bebe had been sporting just now.
双脚深陷在廉价泡沫材质、硬得令人不适的人字拖里，他半隐在随风摇曳的树干后，目光扫视着眼前欢腾放纵的场景。某种程度上，他觉得自己像个变态——四肢僵硬地杵在那里，唯有警觉的双眼紧盯着人群中某个特定身影。斯坦跨坐在凯尔布满雀斑的肩膀上，正努力把巴特斯从肯尼身上推下去，玩着某种类似斗鸡的游戏，脸上绽放着那种会让眼角泛起笑纹的明亮笑容——这种笑容让他的整个人都散发着令人无法忽视的致命吸引力。温蒂歪着头看这场闹剧，双脚在波光粼粼的湖水里晃荡；而克莱德则半身浸在她腿边的湖水中，对着男孩们的打闹发出阵阵喝彩。只有克雷格和贝蒂缺席了这场聚会，不过似乎没人在意这点。他隐约注意到温蒂下颌下方有道栗色痕迹，与贝蒂方才炫耀的那些印记如出一辙。

     His presence was announced before he’d spoken so much as a word—Butters getting so distracted at the arrival of someone else striding into their area that Stan had the opportune moment to send him crashing down into the water. 
他的到来无需言语宣告——巴特斯因有人闯入他们领地而分神，斯坦抓住这绝佳时机将他一把推入水中。

     “Come on, Butters—there’s no way Stan’s good enough to take you down just like that. ” Craig’s voice was as languid as the fervent summer’s day, and he felt a sudden regret that he’d not snagged a pair of sunglasses before heading outside—it was far too bright to bear, and squinting his eyes at the boys before him could really only do much, especially when he could physically feel the burning stare of one in particular, causing his skin to burn with matters that had little to do with the blazing sun up above.
“得了吧巴特斯，斯坦哪有本事这么轻松放倒你。”克雷格的声音慵懒得如同这燥热的夏日，他突然后悔出门前没顺副墨镜——阳光刺得人睁不开眼，眯着眼睛看面前的男孩们效果实在有限，尤其当某道灼热视线让他皮肤发烫时，这份燥热显然与头顶的烈日毫无关联。

     “How kind of you to join us, Craig,” Wendy called out from where she sat some paces away, lips curved and eyes glittering in a way that forced his own expression into a tight grimace, because of course Bebe had told her not-girlfriend about the sweaty, wrinkle-clothed mess he’d been stumbling out of Stan’s room last night, it was a shame she hadn’t been drunk enough to forget. 
“大驾光临啊克雷格，”温蒂坐在几步开外招呼道，她唇角带笑眼波流转的模样逼得他绷紧了脸。果然贝蓓把昨晚那件事告诉了她这位非女友——关于他如何衣衫凌乱、满身汗渍地从斯坦房间跌撞而出的狼狈相，真遗憾她当时没醉到断片的地步。

      “Tsch, give me a break, it’s summer. Sue me for wanting to sleep in a little.”
“切，饶了我吧，这可是夏天。告我啊，谁让我想多睡会儿懒觉。”

     “It’s almost two.”
“快两点了。”

     “Well, I had breakfast first. Half of one of your protein bars, fucking revolting, by the way.” He sneered at the girl.
“我好歹先吃了早餐。啃了你半根蛋白棒，顺便说一句，难吃得要命。”他对着女孩嗤之以鼻。

     “Sorry, it’s not up to your standards—some of us actually care about what we put into our bodies, instead of getting so wasted on cheap vodka that we sleep with our lesbian best friend.”
“抱歉，这不符合你的标准——我们有些人真的在乎吃进身体里的东西，而不是被廉价伏特加灌得烂醉，最后和最好的蕾丝边朋友上床。”

     “Ha, ha.”  “哈，哈。”

     It’d been eight months, but Wendy loved that story, and it was something that he knew she’d never let him forget, so long as she could help it. She brushed a long strand of dark hair behind her ear, smiling at him far too innocently than what was warranted for the situation. He lodged a pinecone at her face. 
虽然已经过去八个月了，但温迪就是爱提这茬。斯坦知道只要她逮着机会，就绝不会让自己忘记这件事。她将一缕深色长发别到耳后，冲他露出一个与当下情境极不相称的无辜笑容。他抓起一颗松果朝她脸上砸去。

     “Water’s cool,” Craig’s head turned so sharply at the sound of that voice—that voice—he was surprised his neck didn't snap, because there Stan was, thighs still locked around that stupid, ungrateful Kyle’s neck, all moist skin and boyish grin, with a quiet intensity simmering within his eyes that meant nothing to anyone other than the two of them. “Jump in, dude!”
“水很凉，”克雷格听到那个声音——那个声音——猛地转头，速度快得让他怀疑自己的脖子居然没扭断。斯坦就在那儿，大腿还夹着那个不知感恩的凯尔的脖子，皮肤泛着水光，挂着少年气的笑容，眼底涌动着只有他们两人才懂的暗涌。“快跳下来啊，伙计！”

     Craig didn’t swoon. Craig also didn’t run and jump into lakes like he was a puberty-ridden preteen on a perpetual sugar high. But Stan was staring at him with what looked to be barely-concealed want swirling in those deep pools of glistening blue that he’d much rather dive into, rather than any other body of water this world had to offer. So, he really only had one option.
克雷格没有晕眩。克雷格也不会像个永远处于糖分亢奋期的青春期前少年那样，奔跑着跳进湖里。但斯坦正凝视着他，那双深邃闪烁的蓝眼睛里翻涌着几乎不加掩饰的渴望——比起世界上任何一片水域，他更想纵身跃入的正是这汪蓝色深潭。所以，他其实别无选择。

     Kicking off the flimsy flip-flops, he let a rush of fresh summer’s air fill his awaiting lungs as he steadily began to pace backwards, miscellaneous rocks and pine needles digging into the soles of his feet before he fixed his shoulders and took off at a running start. For a brief flicker of time, he saw Stan’s grin spread impossibly wider across his sun-kissed face, before his vision was filled with clear, blue ripples of water and bright white sunlight constantly refracting against and cutting into the lake. And for those few, blissful seconds with his senses utterly submerged and mind lost to the water washing his skin anew, he almost felt at ease. When he broke through the water’s surface for a deep breath of air, he felt his heart begin to race within his chest. Eyes more focused now—breathing having calmed—he saw crystal blue peering into his own. Silently. Sweetly. Coy, brilliant teeth gnawing into a delicately pink lip. Like a siren, his mind vaguely thought, watching with bated anticipation as the boy’s eyelashes got closer to his face. Like a beautiful siren that’s probably going to drown me for leaving him in the dead of night. He wondered if any of their friends were watching this scene as it unraveled before them, but when he tilted his head to the side, a finger had swiftly pulled his jaw back around, lingering atop his lower lip and God, Craig wanted. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted with an intensity stirring so vividly within that he could nearly feel it melting his skin, even as that stark lakewater was still drip, drip, dripping from his brow. His eyes flickered down to Stan’s touch, but before any words could fall from his uselessly parted lips, the boy before him broke out into a bright, knowing grin. And maybe Craig was just eighteen, soaking wet, and stupid, but he was certain there was magic in the way Stan could hold a gaze just like that—there was an otherworldly pleasure in the way he snatched Craig’s wrist and pulled him under the water—briefly frightening him into the thought that oh shit, he actually does want to drown me— before yanking the both of them up for air in a more desolate area of the lake—cavernous, where a cliff protruding from above sheathed their bodies in a swallow of shadow.
踢掉那双单薄的人字拖，他让夏日清新的空气涌入等待已久的肺叶，开始稳步向后踱步，杂乱的碎石和松针扎进脚底，直到他绷直肩膀猛然起跑。在时间短暂的闪烁中，他看见斯坦被阳光吻过的脸庞绽放出更灿烂的笑容，随后视野便被清澈的蓝色水波填满，雪白的阳光在湖面上不断折射，切割着粼粼波光。在那感官完全沉浸、思绪被湖水涤荡一新的极乐几秒里，他几乎感到安宁。当他破水而出深吸空气时，感到胸腔里的心脏开始疾驰。此刻视线更加清晰——呼吸已然平缓——他望进一片凝视着他的水晶蓝。静默地。甜蜜地。狡黠而耀眼的牙齿轻咬着柔嫩的粉唇。像海妖，他朦胧地想，屏息注视着男孩的睫毛越来越近。像美丽的海妖，大概会因我深夜离去而溺毙我。 他怀疑是否有朋友正目睹这一幕在他们眼前展开，但当他把头偏向一侧时，一根手指迅速将他的下颌扳回原处，指尖流连在他的下唇上——天啊，克雷格渴望极了。他渴望，渴望，渴望得如此强烈，那股炽热在体内翻腾，几乎要灼穿他的皮肤，尽管冰凉的湖水仍从他额头滴答、滴答、滴答地滑落。他的目光垂向斯坦触碰的地方，可还没等无意识张开的双唇吐出只言片语，面前的男孩突然绽开一抹明亮而心知肚明的笑容。或许克雷格只是个十八岁、浑身湿透的蠢货，但他确信斯坦凝视的方式里藏着魔法——当对方攥住他手腕将他拖入水下时，有种超脱尘世的欢愉。那一瞬的惊恐让他闪过念头：见鬼，这家伙真想淹死我——直到斯坦拽着两人在湖泊更荒僻处浮出水面。嶙峋的悬崖从上方凸出，将他们的身体吞没在阴影之中。

     “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you again last night, before you left.” He released his grip on Craig’s wrist and hiked himself up on the glittering rocks sticking out from the cave’s side, aimlessly swirling his legs in the water. “Or this morning.” Something of a flush had crossed over his features.
“抱歉昨晚没机会再和你说话，在你离开之前。”他松开克雷格的手腕，攀上洞穴侧面突出的闪亮岩石，双腿漫无目的地在水里划着圈。“今早也是。”一抹红晕掠过他的面容。

     “Well, you could’ve at least woken me up.” In spite of himself—though not really, because Craig wasn’t actually upset at all—he found his lips curving upward; Stan seemed to take this as a sign to exhale a small, relieved bout of laughter—the sound was airy and relaxed, and made Craig feel like something sweet had blossomed within his chest. “But it’s alright.”
“你至少可以叫醒我。”尽管克雷格其实根本没生气——但他还是不由自主地嘴角上扬；斯坦似乎把这当作信号，轻轻呼出一声如释重负的笑——那笑声轻盈又放松，让克雷格觉得胸腔里有什么甜蜜的东西正在绽放。“不过没关系。”

     He didn’t know exactly how much the boy wanted to recount the events of the night prior. It wasn’t as if something terrible had occurred within the melding of their flesh, it was just that in the specific snatch of time they’d stolen—the moon hanging heavily in a pitchy black night, the falling rain masking the sounds of breathless moans and stifled sighs—things had felt hazy, almost as though they’d never occurred at all and the memory of Stan splayed out before his hungry, wanton eyes had been nothing more than a figment of his imagination, spun out of pearly sugar and lost to the effervescent night. Far different than where they stood now, basked in the afternoon of a new day, everything too vivacious and bright, cool water grounding his spiraling senses and punctuated with the occasional chirps of the mid-day birds. 
他并不确定男孩究竟想复述多少昨晚的事。并非两人肌肤相亲时发生了什么不堪之事，只是在那段偷来的时光里——沉甸甸的月亮悬在漆黑的夜空中，坠落的雨声掩盖了急促的呻吟与压抑的叹息——一切都显得朦胧不清，仿佛从未真实发生过，而记忆中斯坦在他饥渴目光下舒展的身躯，不过是珍珠糖般虚幻的臆想，最终消散在沸腾的夜色里。与此刻他们所处的境地截然不同，新一天的午后阳光倾泻而下，万物都过分鲜活明亮，清凉的水流将他飘散的意识拉回现实，间或夹杂着正午鸟雀的啁啾。

     But he had little interest in sitting there and pretending like nothing had occurred, especially when his hands yearned for the boy’s pale skin—like the moon, like the beautiful, translucent night— like never before. In the deepest crevice of his mind, he wanted to pull Stan into his arms and kiss him until their lips had long gone bloody and numb, but self-control was a virtue he knew he had to hold, no matter how rapidly his heart was beating within his chest.
但他实在没兴趣坐在这里假装什么都没发生过，尤其是当他的双手前所未有地渴望着触碰男孩苍白的肌肤——像月光，像美丽剔透的夜色。在意识最幽深的缝隙里，他想把斯坦拽进怀中亲吻，直到两人的嘴唇渗血发麻，但自制力是他必须坚守的美德，无论胸腔里的心跳得多么剧烈。

     “It’s kinda funny, actually,” Stan brushed aside a thick strand of wet hair from his forehead, “I guess I do feel… different now.” His eyes flickered to Craig’s, and more than anything in the world, he wished he could read whatever was simmering in that impenetrable, bottomless blue gaze; the Adam's apple in the boy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Older. Less like a kid pretending to be an adult, if that makes any sense.”
"其实挺可笑的，"斯坦将一绺湿发从额前拨开，"我感觉自己确实...不一样了。"他的目光掠过克莱格的眼睛，此刻他比世上任何时刻都渴望读懂那道深不可测的蓝色凝视里翻涌的情绪；男孩喉结随着吞咽动作上下滚动。"更成熟了。不像个假装大人的孩子了，这么说你能明白吧。"

     Was Stan any different? Had he himself really been any different the morning after his first time? Despite himself, he found his eyes carefully boring into every pore of the boy’s face, looking, studying, trying to find something new that could’ve taken presence on his face from the hours separating the late night and early afternoon. Stan tilted his head in response to the boy’s silent stare, a smile of mild confusion wrinkling his brows. But there it was. 
斯坦有什么不同吗？他自己在初夜后的清晨是否真的有所不同？尽管不愿承认，他还是仔细凝视着男孩脸上的每一寸肌肤，观察、研究，试图找出从深夜到午后这几个小时里可能浮现的新变化。面对这无声的注视，斯坦微微偏头，困惑的浅笑在他眉间皱起细纹。但确实存在某种变化。

     The casual slouch of his bare shoulders, the bold gleam of a golden-boy-glistening smile—all teeth, all crinkle below the eye that he wanted to smooth over with a careful press of his lips—that betrayed the truth, something had changed within Stan. It was as apparent as the refracting glimmer of his skin matching the sparkle in his eyes—he was less nervous, for starters, and primarily, perhaps most importantly, he was staring back at Craig like there was something there that hadn’t quite been there before.
他裸露肩膀的慵懒姿态，闪耀着优等生光芒的粲然笑容——露出全部牙齿，眼尾堆起的笑纹让人想用嘴唇轻轻抚平——这一切都泄露了真相，斯坦体内有什么发生了改变。如同他肌肤上跳动的光泽与眼中星辉相互映照般明显——首先他没那么紧张了，而最主要的是，或许最关键的是，他回望克雷格的眼神里多了些从前未曾存在的东西。

     “Glad to be of assistance.” The words felt thick and blocky as they fell from his lips, and if it weren’t for the soft rippling of the water and airy nature ambience surrounding them, he was certain they’d both hear his heart straining against his chest— pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter —as a tight smile contorted his lips.
“乐意效劳。”这句话从他唇间滚落时显得笨拙而生硬，若不是周遭轻柔的水波声与空灵的夜色作衬，他确信两人都会听见自己胸腔里那颗狂跳不止的心——扑通、扑通、扑通、扑通——他嘴角扯出的僵硬微笑几乎要裂开。

     It looked like Stan wanted him to say something more, but he couldn’t. There was a gradual fear creeping up and entwining itself into Craig’s skin that if he kept talking, if he opened that disastrous can of worms masquerading as his mouth, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and before he could intervene between mind and mouth, he’d say something stupid and entirely irrelevant, like, perhaps, he wanted Stan more intimately than a one-time bout of sex could ever offer. If the boy before him shared in his sickly sweet sentiments, it wouldn’t even matter , because what could ever come of it? Too little, too late, because those hazy, drawn-out years of high school had come and gone, for they were adults now, and the hand of fate had dictated that they’d spend the next half-decade literally split across the country from one another. This was all they’d ever have—a week spent in a stifling, hot and sticky lake house with that rickety staircase and lumpy mattress they’d poured their souls out to each other in. Things felt different when they were isolated from society, drawn away from responsibility, caution, and the impending inevitably of becoming a true adult— whatever that meant—with their minds for once at ease. If they could live like this forever, then maybe it would be that he could lay claim to Stan for the remainder of their time on this side of the planet, but he knew better than to indulge in such lofty dreams.
斯坦似乎期待他再说些什么，但他做不到。一种渐进的恐惧正爬上克雷格的皮肤，缠绕着他——如果他继续开口，如果打开那个伪装成他嘴巴的灾难性潘多拉魔盒，他将无法停下，在理智与言语交锋之前，他可能会说出些愚蠢又完全不合时宜的话，比如，他想要的斯坦远比一夜情所能给予的更亲密。即使眼前这个男孩与他共享着同样病态甜蜜的情愫，也毫无意义，因为还能有什么结果呢？太少，太迟了，那些朦胧而漫长的高中岁月早已流逝，如今他们已是成年人，而命运之手早已裁定未来五年他们将天各一方。这就是他们仅有的一切——在闷热黏腻的湖边小屋度过的一周，伴着吱呀作响的楼梯和凹凸不平的床垫，他们曾在那里向彼此倾吐灵魂。 当他们远离社会喧嚣，暂时卸下责任与谨慎，不必面对即将成为真正成年人的必然——无论那意味着什么——心灵难得获得片刻安宁时，一切都变得不同了。若能永远这样生活，或许他就能宣称斯坦在这星球上的剩余时光都属于自己，但他深知不该沉溺于如此不切实际的幻想。

      God, he felt pathetic. He’d taken Stan’s virginity because the boy had asked him to, but in return, he’d stolen something of Craig’s as well—something he wasn’t sure he could ever get back.
天啊，他觉得自己可悲极了。他夺走斯坦的童贞只因对方主动要求，可与此同时，斯坦也从他这里偷走了某些东西——某些他怀疑永远无法挽回的东西。

     He envied Stan. He envied that when all of this was said and done, he’d be hopping on a plane to the bright, sandy beaches of San Diego with a smile on his face and luck on his side—never burdened by the haunting memory of what could’ve been, of what he’d almost had.
他嫉妒斯坦。嫉妒这个男孩在一切结束后就能带着笑容和好运跳上飞往圣迭戈阳光沙滩的航班——永远不会被"本可能拥有什么"、"曾差点得到什么"这类挥之不去的记忆所折磨。

     Though, what if he threw caution to the wind right now? What if he reached up, yanked Stan down from those shimmering rocks he was lying so languidly upon, and explored each divot and bend of his mouth until he’d drugged himself on enough Stan so that he’d never forget what it’d felt like to kiss him, so that no matter how far away they found themselves, he could always run his tongue across his teeth and remember what the boy had tasted like—that wholly unique complexity of sweet bitterness that drove him so utterly insane? 
不过，要是他现在就抛开所有顾虑呢？要是他伸手把斯坦从那片波光粼粼的岩石上拽下来，细细探索他唇角的每一处凹陷与弧度，直到自己彻底沉醉在斯坦的气息里，永远记住亲吻他的感觉——这样无论相隔多远，他都能用舌尖轻抚自己的牙齿，回味那个男孩的滋味——那种令他神魂颠倒的、甜蜜与苦涩交织的独特气息？

     What if he turned down his Columbia acceptance and followed Stan to San Diego? He could do a few years at a local community college and get into UCSD as a transfer if he really wanted to, but most importantly, he could stay with Stan. His mind was racing and swirling within his head, his vision all spotty and distant, everything centered on Stan still wearing that impossible-to-ignore smile. He could do it, he really could, he’d even get a real job and everything, things would just—
要是他拒绝哥伦比亚大学的录取，跟着斯坦去圣地亚哥呢？他完全可以先在社区大学读两年，再以转学生身份进入加州大学圣地亚哥分校，最重要的是——他能留在斯坦身边。思绪在脑海中疯狂旋转，视线变得模糊而遥远，所有焦点都集中在斯坦那抹令人无法忽视的笑容上。他做得到的，真的做得到，他甚至愿意找份正经工作，一切都会——

     He did not have time to finish his mental collapse, unfortunately, because Stan had slid down from the rocks and had his arms hung around his neck and his ankles crossed around his waist, head tilted as he pressed into Craig’s lips with a bleeding-heart passion and yearning that could only be wrought from the boy like this, held tightly against his skin in a secluded area of their own. Craig kissed him back, the both of them all loose-lips and desperately yearning, and Craig didn’t ever want to let Stan go. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fucking fair that after eighteen stupidly long years, he’d finally found the only person he could imagine more than just sloppy sex and forced romance with, and they couldn’t be together. Following Stan to San Diego was a pipe dream—his mom would kill him if he turned down a full-ride, and he had a feeling that Stan would feel like he’d robbed Craig if he was the reason why he wouldn’t go to New York. His teeth found Stan’s lower lip and he carefully grazed the soft, warm flesh. He could kiss Stan all day if the boy would let him—after discovering the sensation less than twenty-four hours prior, he wondered how he’d ever possibly lived a lifetime without it. The water lapped against their necks, and with each time he dove in for more, he couldn’t tell whether or not the salt was from the lake or Stan’s tears, because though his eyes were shut in pleasurably bliss, he could feel the boy’s soft, trickling tears in front of him. He was crying, and God, if Craig didn’t want to cry, too.
可惜他没来得及完成内心的崩溃，因为斯坦已经从岩石上滑下来，双臂环住他的脖子，脚踝交叉缠在他腰间，歪着头以一颗滴血般炽热的心和唯有此刻才能从这个男孩身上迸发的渴望，吻上了克莱格的嘴唇。他们在这片隐秘之地紧紧相贴，克莱格回吻着他，两人都张着颤抖的唇瓣拼命索求，克莱格这辈子都不想放开斯坦。这不公平，他妈的一点都不公平——在漫长的十八年之后，他终于找到了唯一一个能让他幻想超越潦草性爱和勉强恋情的人，可他们却不能在一起。跟着斯坦去圣地亚哥根本是痴心妄想，如果放弃全额奖学金他妈妈会杀了他，而且他有预感，斯坦会觉得是自己剥夺了克莱格去纽约的机会。他的牙齿轻轻碾过斯坦柔软温暖的下唇。 他愿意吻斯坦一整天，只要男孩允许——在不到二十四小时前发现这种感觉后，他难以想象自己前半生是如何度过的。湖水轻拍着他们的脖颈，每次他俯身索求更多时，都分不清唇间的咸涩是来自湖水还是斯坦的泪水，因为尽管他闭着眼沉浸在欢愉中，仍能感觉到面前男孩温热的泪珠正蜿蜒而下。斯坦在哭，天啊，克雷格也快要忍不住眼泪了。

     “I’ll go to New York,” Stan breathed against his lips, warm breath and flushed face. “I’ll go to New York, I can’t just—” his voice broke and Craig held him tighter as he broke away. 
"我去纽约，"斯坦的气息灼热地拂过他的唇瓣，面颊潮红，"我去纽约，我不能就这样——"他的声音破碎了，克雷格在他退开时将他搂得更紧。

     “What are you talking about?” he whispered against his skin, voice strained as he fought to keep his composure. “What are you— no, Stan. You can’t—you got into UC San Diego, I’m not letting you throw that all away.” He could feel that his voice had begun to shake, and the unsaid words hung heavy between them: I’m not letting you throw that all away, for me.
"你在说什么？"他贴着斯坦的肌肤低语，强自镇定的声音发紧，"你在胡说什么——不，斯坦。你不能这样——你考上了加州大学圣地亚哥分校，我不会让你放弃这一切。"他感到自己的声音开始颤抖，未说出口的话语沉甸甸地横亘在两人之间：别为我放弃这一切。

     “Do you want me?” Stan was still breathless, and the slew of words came out more as a mumbled doyouwantme than anything else; he didn’t look Craig in the eyes as it fell from his lips, but Craig found himself peering into his—the boy looked drunk with want, even though he knew he was stone-cold sober.
“你想要我吗？”斯坦仍气喘吁吁，含糊不清的句子更像是黏连的 doyouwantme；说这话时他没敢看克雷格的眼睛，但克雷格却凝视着他——男孩眼中盈满渴望，醉意朦胧，尽管他知道对方清醒得不能再清醒。

     Craig bit down on his lip and looked away.
克雷格咬着下唇，别开了视线。

     “More than anything.” It came out weaker and more boyish than he would’ve liked. “More than anything, but—” 
"比什么都想。"这句话听起来比他预想的更软弱、更孩子气。"比什么都想，但是——"

     But. But, but, but, but—! There seemed to always be a reason why they couldn’t, and there was always a reason as to why they really shouldn’t. It was wrong, it had been a poorly judged mistake on his part to have indulged Stan in his incredulous ask the night prior, for maybe if he’d turned him down, maybe if he’d simply shook his head and ran back inside, he wouldn’t feel so utterly, overwhelmingly torn now, stuck at a crossroads that would inevitably tear something from him, no matter which way he pulled.
但是。但是，但是，但是——！似乎总有理由让他们不能在一起，也总有理由说明他们真的不该在一起。这是错的，昨晚纵容斯坦提出那个荒谬请求本身就是他判断失误，或许如果他当时拒绝，或许如果他只是摇摇头跑回屋里，现在就不会感到如此彻底、压倒性的撕裂，被困在这个无论选择哪条路都注定要失去些什么的十字路口。

     Did he want Stan?
他想要斯坦吗？

     He wanted Stan like all life blossoming upon this planet wanted the Sun— he wanted Stan like he wanted to breathe, to take a sharp breath and feel it rattle as it settled within his chest, he wanted Stan like he wanted to wake up in the morning tomorrow and each and every day that followed.
他渴望斯坦如同地球上所有生命渴望太阳——他渴望斯坦如同渴望呼吸，渴望深吸一口气感受它在胸腔里震颤沉淀，他渴望斯坦如同渴望明天清晨以及此后每一天的醒来。

     There Stan was, staring at him once more with those impossibly big, wet eyes that seemed to glisten in the shadow of the alcove they were tucked beneath, and he was waiting. But he might as well have been waiting on a miracle, because Craig truthfully didn’t know what else to do with his spinning mind, his trembling hands, and the only real thing he could think to do in the moment was to press Stan up against the craggy rocks and press messy, absentminded kisses along every bit of bare skin his lips could find. He couldn’t talk, he didn’t want to talk, because if he did, he’d be forced to come to terms with the overwhelming want sitting heavily in his gut—desire incarnate in the breathless boy returning his rushed affections in kind. He also didn’t particularly want to think, so as his fingers thumbed the waistband of Stan’s faded-blue swim trunks, and he was met with zero resistance, zero hesitation, all subtle encouragement, he steeled the part of him that was still stuck in high school—boyishly immature—and simply took Stan right there.
斯坦又一次用那双大得不可思议、湿漉漉的眼睛凝视着他，那双眼睛在他们藏身的岩壁阴影中闪闪发亮，他等待着。但这等待简直像是在期盼奇迹降临，因为克雷格确实不知道该如何处理自己混乱的思绪、颤抖的双手，此刻他唯一能想到的真实举动就是把斯坦抵在嶙峋的岩石上，用嘴唇在每寸裸露的肌肤上留下凌乱而心不在焉的吻。他说不出话，也不想说话，因为一旦开口，他就不得不正视沉甸甸压在腹中的汹涌渴望——这份欲望具象化成了那个正以同样急促的柔情回应他、气喘吁吁的男孩。他尤其不愿意思考，所以当他的拇指勾住斯坦褪色蓝色泳裤的裤腰，遭遇零抵抗、零犹豫，只有微妙的鼓励时，他强行按捺住内心仍停留在高中时代的幼稚部分，就这样当场占有了斯坦。

—

     Far later in the evening, when the sun had long since disappeared below the horizon and the air had shifted into that unsettling mixture of simultaneous heat and chill, they’d gathered in the lake house’s living room, everyone too giggly and loud from the crushed cans of spiked lemonade scattered about the floor, eyes focused on the TV screen they were all taking turns poorly-belting karaoke on. At the present moment, Clyde was stumbling his way through a buzzed rendition of some whiny-tenor broadway ballad—voice warbled and cracking on all the high notes, though judging by the intense waves of emotions crashing like waves over his features, one’d think he was high-stake performing at the Tony Awards. It almost brought an amused smile to Craig’s face, had he been more motivated to do so. But there was zero alcohol burning its way down his throat and lifting his inhibitions—largely because he still had a bit of trauma over the last time he’d overdone it and slept with his gay best friend—so he was tap, tap, tapping on his thigh (a reference to the song Clyde was currently massacring) and tried to find the humor amidst the gradual unease simmering in his mind. Eight hours ago, he’d fucked Stan as their bodies had dipped in and out of the secluded lake’s waters, and eight hours ago, Stan had asked him if he’d wanted him, like he was laying out his soul to bare and imploring Craig to take whatever it was that he wanted, but no —that wasn’t quite it, was it?
夜深时分，当太阳早已沉入地平线以下，空气中弥漫着那种令人不安的闷热与寒意交织的气息时，他们聚集在湖滨别墅的客厅里。地板上散落着被捏扁的含酒精柠檬饮料罐，每个人都因微醺而咯咯笑个不停，声音大得离谱，眼睛紧盯着电视屏幕——大家正轮流在上面糟糕地吼着卡拉 OK。此刻克莱德正醉醺醺地蹒跚着表演某首哭腔男高音百老汇民谣，高音部分声音颤抖破碎，但看他脸上如浪潮般汹涌的夸张表情，旁人还以为他是在托尼奖颁奖礼上倾情献唱。这场景本该让克雷格觉得好笑——如果他还有兴致笑出来的话。但他的喉咙里没有酒精灼烧着冲淡理智，主要是因为他仍对上次喝过头和同性挚友上床的事心有余悸。于是他跟着当前被克莱德糟蹋的歌曲节奏，手指在大腿上轻轻敲击（tap, tap, tapping），试图在逐渐滋生的不安中寻找一丝幽默感。 八小时前，他在僻静湖泊中与斯坦交缠起伏时占有了对方；八小时前，斯坦曾问他是否想要自己，那姿态仿佛将灵魂赤裸铺陈，恳求克雷格索取他愿意给予的一切——但不对，事情并非如此，不是吗？

     Time had passed. The hours between had stretched impossibly long, and he hadn’t spoken a word to Stan since they’d dried themselves of varying fluids after their shared dip. Time had passed and now he was finding it increasingly difficult to tear his flickering gaze away from the boy in question—who, not that it was of any importance, certainly not to Craig, had also chosen to abstain from drinking. Though, he supposed he had seen the aftermath of Stan’s drunken father during their childhood, so he figured that might’ve been a prominent reason. Currently, Stan’s eyes were boring into the TV screen displaying the lyrics, but they were unseeing. Every few moments, he’d laugh at something Kyle or Butters would say, but no matter how far apart his lips spread, it’d never quite meet his eyes. Craig himself was manspreading in a ragged leathery armchair—hand suddenly feeling very empty—and Stan was sitting with his knees pressed to his chest on the couch perpendicular. 
时间流逝。中间的几个小时被拉长得不可思议，自从他们在共同浸泡后擦干身上各种体液以来，他就再没和斯坦说过一句话。时间流逝，此刻他发现自己越来越难以将闪烁的目光从那个男孩身上移开——虽然这并不重要，当然对克雷格来说不重要——斯坦也选择了不喝酒。不过，他猜想这可能是因为童年时见过斯坦醉酒父亲的丑态，这大概是个重要原因。此刻斯坦的眼睛紧盯着显示歌词的电视屏幕，却视而不见。每隔一会儿，他会对凯尔或巴特斯说的话发笑，但无论嘴角咧得多开，笑意从未到达眼底。克雷格自己正大咧咧地瘫坐在一张破旧皮扶手椅上——突然感到手很空——而斯坦则蜷缩着膝盖坐在垂直方向的沙发上。

     Eventually—somewhere between Craig’s staring and barely suppressed yearning—Clyde’s song had concluded, and after giving a few dramatic bows, he held out the wired microphone to whoever wanted to go next. 
最终——在克雷格凝视的目光与几乎压抑不住的渴望之间——克莱德的歌曲结束了，他夸张地鞠了几躬后，将有线麦克风递给下一位想唱的人。

     Pale, calloused fingers closed around it, and before Craig’s mind had time to catch up with his blurred vision, Stan had quickly typed something into the laptop mirroring on the TV, and looked beyond the living room with a detached sort of expression painting over his face. Nobody else might’ve, but Craig saw the small breath that filled his chest before his voice—clear, bright, and strong—poured forth from his lips, and in a matter of seconds, Craig could feel all exhaustion lifting from his body. He’d always known the boy had been musically inclined, with the mild popularity of his scrounged-together-band during high school that he’d led with his nimble guitarist fingers and smooth voice, but he’d never been this close as he’d performed a song. His eyes flickered to the lyrics on-screen. Cruel Summer—Taylor Swift.
苍白而粗糙的手指握住了麦克风。还没等克雷格模糊的视线与混沌的思维同步，斯坦已经迅速在连接电视的笔记本电脑上输入了什么，目光越过客厅，脸上覆着一层疏离的表情。或许没人注意到，但克雷格看见了他胸腔里那口细微的吐纳——随后清澈明亮而有力的嗓音便从他唇间倾泻而出。短短几秒内，克雷格感到所有疲惫都从身体里抽离。他早知道这男孩有音乐天赋，高中时那支东拼西凑的乐队就小有名气，斯坦用灵巧的吉他手指和丝滑的嗓音担任主唱——但从未如此近距离地看他表演。克雷格的目光扫过屏幕上的歌词：《残酷夏日》——泰勒·斯威夫特。

     “ Hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine, I’m not dying.” It seemed likely that Craig had blacked out a little as Stan had begun to sing, because now he was at the half-way point of the song, and God— it truthfully did feel like Craig was drunk, because how else could he possibly begin to explain the way Stan stood dominant in his vision like a fucking heaven-sent angel or something, lying at the feet of a shameful sinner? “You say that we’ll just screw it up in these trying times, we’re not trying.” His voice was like softly-woven silk, pouring into the stifling air of the confined living room and pouring down Craig’s throat until he could feel it coating his brain in a sheen of something.
“在自动贩卖机的微光里垂首，我还没到濒死边缘。”克雷格可能确实短暂失去了意识，因为斯坦开始唱歌时他恍惚了一瞬——此刻歌曲已过半，天啊，这感觉真实得像醉酒，否则他该如何解释斯坦为何如天降神使般占据他全部视野，如同跪伏在可悲罪人脚边的天使？“你说艰难时世里我们只会搞砸，可我们根本没在努力。”那嗓音如柔滑丝绸渗入逼仄客厅的沉闷空气，顺着克雷格的喉管流淌，直至他感觉有某种光泽包裹了自己的大脑。

     Moreover, Stan’s eyes were tightly shut as he sang, sweat glistening on his brow, and suddenly—rather abruptly, too—a sharp desire sprang up within Craig to jump forward and press his forehead against the shorter boy’s and beg him to look him in the eyes. Blue that’d once been bright gone murky, yet still endlessly captivating, and more than anything, he wanted to peer into that gaze once more. Look at me, the thought pounded through his mind, please, just look at me. 
更致命的是斯坦唱歌时紧闭双眼，额角汗珠闪烁——突然地，极其突兀地，克雷格体内迸发出尖锐的冲动，想扑过去将前额抵住这个矮个子男孩，哀求他抬眼对视。那双曾经明亮的蓝眼睛如今浑浊却依然令人沉溺，他比任何时候都渴望再次坠入那道视线。看看我，这个念头在他脑中轰鸣，求你了，就看我一眼。

     His eyes flashed open. Directly, they locked with Craig’s own.
他突然睁大眼睛，目光直接与克雷格相接。

    “ And I screamed, ‘for whatever it’s worth, I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?’”
“然后我尖叫着说‘不管怎样，我爱你，这难道不是你听过最糟糕的话吗？’”

     The instrumentals grew softer until they were no longer there at all, and in time that was syrupy and incomprehensible, Stan had handed the microphone off to an intoxicatedly beaming Bebe with Wendy practically glued to her hip, and gone to sink back into the couch, though now Kyle and Butters had become wrapped in a conversation of their own, so his lips remained shut and his eyes remained fixated, once more, on the electronic screen as his arms lightly crossed over his chest.
伴奏声逐渐减弱直至完全消失，在这段粘稠得难以理解的时间里，斯坦把麦克风递给醉醺醺傻笑的贝贝——温迪几乎黏在她身边——然后坐回沙发。但此刻凯尔和巴特斯正沉浸在自己的对话中，于是他继续保持沉默，双臂轻轻交叉在胸前，目光再次锁定在电子屏幕上。

     Craig stood up from the creaky armchair, desperation clawing through his veins. He probably looked mildly stupid, and he was aware of it, standing there all tense and rigid-limbed, but everyone else in the room was too drunk to make any snide remarks, so he found that he really didn’t care. Well, everyone except for him . Everyone except for the person who really, truly, undoubtedly mattered. His feet traveled absent of his mind, and likely due to the six-foot shadow being cast down over him, Stan looked up at Craig—and the latter’s mind went blissfully blank, before he fought to gain it back. It was deja vu, because Stan was waiting for him to talk, just like he’d been all those hours prior, but because Craig had always been shitty with words, he’d instead taken the entirely logically and totally not immature route of fucking him underwater instead. Nerves, for the second run. Hunger, tearing through his chest. His hand, yanking a startled-looking Stan off the couch and dragging him outside.
克雷格从吱呀作响的扶手椅上站起来，绝望感如潮水般涌过血管。他此刻的模样大概蠢得可以，他自己也心知肚明——全身紧绷四肢僵直地杵在那儿，但屋里其他人都醉得没力气挖苦他，所以他发现自己其实并不在乎。好吧，除了那个人。除了那个真正重要、毋庸置疑地重要的人。他的双腿不受控制地移动，或许是因为笼罩在头顶的六英尺阴影，斯坦抬头望向克雷格——后者的脑海顿时陷入幸福的空白，又挣扎着找回思绪。这场景似曾相识，斯坦正等着他开口，就像几小时前那样，但克雷格向来拙于言辞，于是他选择了完全合乎逻辑且绝对不算幼稚的解决方式——在水下操了他。第二轮紧张感袭来。饥饿感撕扯着他的胸腔。他的手拽起满脸错愕的斯坦，将人拖出沙发拉向门外。

      Deja vu a-fucking- gain , because had it really only been twenty-four hours since the last time they’d found each other like this? It couldn’t have been, but somehow, it had. Though, he was running out of time to muse on this, because Stan looked like he was a second and a dash from bolting. 
该死的似曾相识感又来了，距离上次他们这样相遇真的只过了二十四小时吗？不可能，但事实确实如此。不过他已经没时间细想这个了，因为斯坦看起来下一秒就要落荒而逃。

     “I want you.” The words stumbled out of his mouth all clumsy and misshapen, a mixture of a broken whisper and a wavering plea. “Stan, I fucking want you, okay?”
"我想要你。"这句话笨拙地从他嘴里蹦出来，支离破碎如同颤抖的耳语与摇晃的恳求混合体。"斯坦，我他妈就是想要你，懂吗？"

     Stan had his arms pulled tight around his body, with distrustful, wary eyes that shimmered and shone in the refracting moonlight. He didn’t say a word, and Craig knew he couldn’t blame him, so he swallowed, hard , and continued to vomit up something that hopefully made sense on the crunchy grass beneath their feet.
斯坦双臂紧紧环抱自己，月光折射下那双戒备而警惕的眼睛闪烁着微光。他始终沉默不语，克莱格明白自己没资格责怪他，只能狠狠咽了下口水，继续在脚下沙沙作响的草地上倾吐着那些但愿能让人听懂的词句。

     “I want you today, and tomorrow, and every day after that. I want your face to be the first thing I see in the morning, and the last thing I see before I close my eyes at night—which, fuck, I don’t even care if that means we have to FaceTime every single day, because I’ll do it. I’ll do it, Stan, I’ll do the long-distance because–” he laughed incredulously, “--in eighteen fucking years of my life this is the one thing I think I’m finally managing to get right. Because it’s you. And because I don’t want to go back to a life where I can’t do–” Taking a sharp breath, he pressed his lips against Stan’s. “-- that whenever I need it. Don’t make me go back to that, Stan. Please don’t make me go back to that.”
“我要今天的你，明天的你，往后的每一天的你。我要你的脸成为我清晨睁眼看见的第一道光，成为我夜晚阖眼前的最后风景——妈的，就算这意味着我们得每天视频通话我也不在乎，因为我愿意。斯坦，我愿意接受异地恋，因为——”他难以置信地笑起来，“——在我操蛋的十八年人生里，这是我唯一觉得自己终于做对的事。因为是你。因为我不想回到那个不能——”他深吸一口气，将双唇压上斯坦的，“——随时这样亲吻你的日子。别让我回到那种生活，斯坦。求你别让我回到那种日子。”

     The boy was still silent, but he was staring at Craig in a manner entirely different than he had just a few minutes prior, something soft in those eyes. Something poignant and sparkling.
男孩依然沉默，但凝视克莱格的眼神已与几分钟前截然不同，那双眼睛里有什么柔软的东西在闪烁。某种令人心头发烫的、亮晶晶的东西。

     “And I’m sorry I was too stupid to give you a real response earlier, but here it is, Stan. Here it is. Here I am. I want you more than I think I could ever possibly convey, and if you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life demonstrating that with a smile on my face. Maybe this is four years late, maybe even seven, but it’s here now, and I think–” His voice constricted, “--I think that maybe I’ve loved you for far longer than I’ve ever cared to admit.” 
“对不起，我早先蠢到没能给你一个像样的回应，但现在我说给你听，斯坦。就在这里。此刻的我。我渴望你胜过任何言语能表达的程度，只要你允许，我愿用余生带着笑容证明这一点。也许迟了四年，甚至七年，但此刻它就在这里，而我想——”他的声音哽咽了，“——我想我可能爱你的时间，远比愿意承认的要久得多。”

     His fingers found Stan’s jaw, and they lingered there in the pale light of the moon for seconds that felt more like hours, before Stan laughed and shook his head. Shook it and shook it and just shook it until those dark locks were bouncing in harmony atop his head.
他的手指抚上斯坦的下颌，在苍白的月光下停留了仿佛几个世纪般的数秒，直到斯坦笑着摇头。他摇啊摇，不停地摇头，直到那些深色发丝在他头顶欢快地跳跃。

     “You’re so stupid.”
“你真是蠢透了。”

     Craig could feel his heart drop in his chest.
克雷格能感觉到自己的心在胸腔里沉了下去。

     “But I think that maybe I love you, too.”
“但我想我可能也爱你。”

     Craig’s mind and limbs had gone entirely numb, so Stan took the liberty of reaching up and smiling against his lips, before diving in to join their mouths as one— wholly, perfectly, and completely.
克雷格的头脑和四肢完全麻木了，于是斯坦擅自凑上前，带着笑意贴上他的嘴唇，然后深深吻住他——完完全全、完美无缺、彻彻底底地融为一体。

     “So, we’ll call?” Despite himself, Craig could sense that his expression had gone breathlessly giddy the second they pulled apart.
“那，我们会打电话吧？”尽管努力克制，克雷格仍能感觉到自己在分开的瞬间就露出了喘不过气的傻笑。

     “Every single day.” Stan promised, and Craig knew that his words were true. “But we have months until that time comes. For now–” his fingers tightened on the collar of Craig’s faded shirt, sensuality swimming in his gaze. “—I want to have something to remember.”
“每一天都打。”斯坦承诺道，而克雷格知道他说的是真话。“但距离那天还有好几个月呢。现在——”他的手指攥紧了克雷格褪色衬衫的领口，目光中情欲流转，“——我想要留下些值得回忆的东西。”

     Craig laughed, and truthfully, he couldn’t remember a time where he’d ever felt so free.
克雷格笑了起来，说实话，他记不起自己什么时候曾感到如此自由过。