Author's note,
It is a Stan/Craig ship now. Idfk Kyle is not going to be redeemed. Maybe he will. Guess we'll find out together.
Stan pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the window, hoping to alleviate his pulsing head. The condensation and uneven ride of the bus were an effective deterrent to this small comfort. The cut above his eye was still dripping, making his hat an ugly blue-red on its interior lining and staining his cadaver-like complexion.
The bus arrived at the School, a building not dissimilar to Stan. A fading shell of something previously alive. The chipping paint and faded carpets showing the strain of the world moving on independantly. Stan walked through the doors, hearing them ease open slowly. He walked down the hallways singly, observing the people living.
Living was starting to become a foreign concept to Stan.
He walked into the nurses office, sitting in a chair that was too small for him, waiting to be patched up. It was nearly routine for him at this point, he needed gauze and minimal questions, and Nurse Gollum was uninterested in the nature of his injuries. He thought while he waited, about how the only person who showed a semblance of care or even acknowledgment that he existed was paid to do so.
After about a minute and a half of waiting he was called in, and had the cut disinfected and bandaged. For the first time in a long time, Nurse Gollum seemed concerned about him. At least, she intended too, as the look she gave him was more comparable to what you'd give a stray animal than genuine concern. Stan saw it as pity, and returned with a blank expression, with a tinge of annoyance.
He walked out of the Nurses office as the bell rang. This triggered a frenzy of quick goodbyes and see you laters in the halls, as student rushed to their classes. Stan started to the bathroom instead, electing to cut his first hour. He cut most classes with Kyle in them, but he cut most classes irregardless. As he walked he noticed something unusual, however.
Walking towards a cracked open door to the outside he saw Craig smoking a cigarette on the steps, a rock jammed in the door so it didn't lock behind him. He walked out the door, making sure the rock was still keeping it cracked. Craig's eyes darted over to him for a half-second before turning back forward, his hands already pulling another cig out of the back. He reached it out for Stan to take.
Stan and Craig had a... complicated relationship. A passive observer could even mistake them for friends, but they'd only be half right. Craig was never looking for anything more than a night. Stan had made that mistake before. They still slept together occasionally, ending with Stan slipping away at first light every time.
Stan took the cigarette from Craig before realising it wasn't lit. Craig simply turned his face towards Stan and put his half-smoked cig between his lips. Stan rolled
his eyes before putting the unlit cancerstick in his mouth, putting the end on Craig's smoke and inhaling. This ignited Stan's and he sat down next to Craig smoking.
After they both finished their cigarettes, they stood up and walked towards the door. The closed, locked, rock barren, door. Craig looked at Stan with a mix of humor and cold judgement. Stan felt the heat rise in his face as he felt embaressed. Why was he embaressed? Craig coughed once before saying what Stan knew he would. "My place or yours"?
