a second chance : stozier

8

"just double checking that i'm on the couch, right?" richie poked his head out of the bathroom door to stanley, a spare toothbrush in his hand.

"yeah, oh, let me get you some things, sorry," stanley seemed to realize he'd forgotten to set richie up a place to sleep and disappeared back into his bedroom.

by the time richie was brushing his teeth, toothpaste foaming on his lips, stanley was dragging a blanket and a pillow to the couch behind him. stanley placed the blanket gently, dropping the pillow on top of it. he stared at his makeshift bed for a moment, and changed the positioning of some cushions.

"okay, that should be good, i think. sorry it's a couch. i don't exactly have sleepovers, so i don't own an air mattress." stanley leaned against the wall in the hallway connected to the bathroom. richie waved his hand to brush off what stanley had said.

he held up a finger to stanley, turning to spit in the sink. he washed his mouth out with water for what he guessed might have been four hours (a solid ten seconds) and looked back at stanley, wiping his mouth with his hand.

"i can sleep anywhere, anytime. you know this. a couch is a luxury, staniel," richie shook his hands in the sink and came to stand beside stan. stanley didn't move for some reason, staring into the bathroom mirror at himself, arms crossed.

richie made faces at him through the mirror, but they didn't seem to affect stanley. he was in his own little world, richie guessed. he hoped to god stanley wasn't thinking about what richie was.

please don't leave me stan. tell me that was just a five day nightmare.

"okay, well, i'm off to bed. i'll see you in the morning," stanley suddenly bounced off the wall, saluting richie and retreating quickly into his bedroom. richie feared there might've been tears welling in his eyes.

"see you, general..." richie trailed off, watching the bedroom door close. he didn't move for a moment.

when the losers had had sleepovers at bill's, stanley was always the last to go to sleep. he hadn't needed any stimulant like richie had (chugging energy drinks) to stay awake. instead, it was the opposite. richie could wake up to get a glass of water and stanley would still be awake, doing a newspaper's crossword, or something similar.

richie remembered being sixteen, having watched a horror movie and not being able to sleep. him and stanley had sat on the porch, talking until richie felt okay enough to sleep. stanley hadn't made fun of it.

"aren't you tired?" richie could hear his squeaky voice asking, a teenager again. stanley, pretty as always, shrugged. the moonlight lit up the tip of his nose, and richie wanted to pull the moon closer to light up his whole face.

"not really. i, um, i tend not to sleep a lot." stanley had said gently, and in the memory his hair was glittering. richie had wanted to feel it, but held his hands in his lap.

"that—" richie began, about to lecture stanley. 

"don't be eddie. and anyway, i'm okay, aren't i? it's not as bad as it sounds." stanley had scuffed his feet—were they barefoot? they must've been—against the concrete step and then inhaled sharply through his nose.

"you confuse me, stanny," richie said, putting his hands and head on his knees. stanley pat him on the back briefly, and richie had silently begged him to keep it there.

"and you i, richard."

now, staring at the wooden bedroom door, richie wondered how much sleep stanley was really going to get.

nevertheless, he wandered off to the couch, pulling the blanket around him and lying down. it was a humble couch, but richie didn't mind his feet sticking off the edge. stanley had bought all his furniture on his own, his parents refusing to spend any of their own money, though richie had always thought they were quite wealthy.

him and stanley had heaved it up and down the elevator in pieces, finally slumping down on it after they'd finished. richie couldn't stop thinking about how red stanley's face had been, and how cute he was when he was exhausted.

rolling over to the other side, richie told himself to forget it. richie wasn't here to gawk at stanley (though he always did), he was here to care for him. he was here to stop the horrific future he'd lived. he didn't know why, or how he was here in the first place, but he was going to do it right this time.

without stanley in the room, though, richie couldn't help but feel the grief overwhelm him again. he couldn't sleep, not with the idea of the letter stanley had written him so prominently in his mind.

what must have been less than an hour later, richie still lied restless, tossing and turning to avoid melting into the couch like quicksand. he heard the door to stanley's bedroom open softly, and stayed still to hear stan walk out towards the living room.

"rich?" stanley's voice was gentle, soft as to not wake him. richie, not asleep anyway, rolled his neck to look at stanley.

stanley was clearly having just as much trouble sleeping, scratching his arm as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the living room.

"what's up?" richie asked, stanley rubbing his eyes for a moment. richie sat up, but stanley didn't move.

"do you—um. do you remember sleeping over at each others houses, how we-uh-we would sleep in the same bed? and it—like the quarry—meant nothing, 'cause we were just kids?" stanley stammered out, scratching harder at his arm. richie nodded slowly, stanley looking anywhere but at richie.

it hadn't meant nothing to richie, but he was nodding anyway.

"of course i do." richie felt like cringing at how gentle his voice came out. give it away, richie. might as well kiss him at this rate.

"do you think you-i mean, would you mind, if i asked you, to—you know?" stanley's nails eased up on his arm, and richie stood. stanley gulped as he looked up to richie.

"of course i wouldn't mind. the couch is nice and all, but this is more the stanley uris hospitality i've come to expect," richie joked softly, and was relieved to see a small smile on stanley's face. he nodded, and then disappeared in a flash back into his bedroom. richie followed him, suddenly sleepy.

when he got into the bedroom, stanley had gotten under the covers, and was facing off the bed. cautiously, richie got into the other side.

"thank you."

richie felt his eyelids grow heavy, and with stanley next to him, he let them shut. "anytime."