MIXTAPE. [STAN MARSH X MALE READER]

AFTER-PARTY.

CHAPTER 6

   Walking around the crowds of people, you searched for Stan through the crowds. You couldn't seem to find him anywhere, deciding to check the backyard, you made your way outside. While taking a full look around, someone bumped into you. You turned around to see Michael, the goth. He had grown taller in the past few years, standing at around six foot something most likely. He was slim and had this kind of suburban vibe to him, but it fit his gothic aesthetic very well. Thinking about looking for Stan, you decided Michael might know, he was always closer to Stan than any of the other goths. He said a small sorry for walking into you, but before he could walk away you stopped him. "Hey Michael, have you seen Stan anywhere?" you asked him. He looked at you for a moment, almost like he was debating on telling you. Finally he responded, "Yeah, I saw him run upstairs a couple minutes ago, I was walking down them, almost fell because of him." He had a very nonchalant accent to his words.

     You thanked him before heading back inside, walking up the stairs to go look for him. You looked room to room, trying your best to avoid closed doors as to not put yourself into anymore weird situations.

    You just wanted to talk to him, ease his feelings a bit. Even if Stan said he didn't feel anything for Wendy, he still felt some type of connection with her. From what you've seen, he didn't even seem that romantically interested in her anymore, but more so he was scared of letting go.

    You had looked through almost all the second floor, before stopping at the front of a small office room. You waited outside the door, praying that he was in here, and you would not walk in on some random person. The door wasn't locked, which seemed like a good sign. As you opened the door, you were filled with relief once you saw Stan in there, sitting on a window seat in the center of the far wall of the office. It gave you deja vu of earlier today, as you noticed he had yet another joint in his mouth, and the window open. "Haven't you smoked enough for today Stanley?" you closed the door behind you, making your way over to him. He didn't seem to respond, you took a seat next to him, "and still no ash tray?" You were trying your best to lighten the mood, to at least make him acknowledge you, but your efforts seemed to fail.

    You had been sitting next to him for a few minutes now. "So," He finally began. You perked up at the sound of his voice. "You and Katie?" he finished. "No," you responded. "Wendy then?" he asked. "Are your standards for me that low? You think i'd kiss my best friends ex?" You weren't going to lie, it hurt a bit to think Stan thought you weren't loyal to him. You hadn't looked up to face him, distracted with picking your nails, so you hadn't noticed the surprised and yet relived look on his face. "You didn't?"

    "No dude! You think i'd do that to you? Jesus Stan, your acting like I don't care about you, I'm bringing you to California with me for crying out loud, and you think i'd get with your ex?" You had looked up to face him finally, he seemed at a lost for words. "And put this shit out, you've been smoking all day, you said we'd do to as a celebration thing, not treating it like some type of gum." While he was distracted, you snatched the blunt out of his hand, putting it out against the outside of the window.

    "I'm sorry," he sighed out. You looked at him, but he had turned away from you now staring at the put out blunt. "About the smoking, the dramatic running off, or the assuming I was getting with your ex?" you asked him. "About everything, I.. I don't know [name], I guess, I wasn't thinking straight, i'm still not," he paused shifting his eyes to look at the space between you two before continuing. "Just, the alcohol and everything, and seeing you not back out of kissing the vamp girl. When the bottle landed on Wendy I just, thought about seeing you with her and it messed me up." If Stan was being honest, he didn't even know why the thought of you kissing Wendy hurt him so much. It wasn't even seeing Wendy kiss someone else that hurt, it was the thought of seeing you betray him. If you kissed Wendy, he would've felt that you didn't want him anymore. If you chose Wendy over him, he would've seen it as a way of you telling him your friendship didn't mean anything.

    "Let's get you home," You said, standing up off the seat. "Are you mad at me?" he asked. "Furious, I'm actually planning on feeding you to the dogs that chased us on our way home." He let out a light laugh at your sarcasm. "No i'm not mad at you Stan, just a little hurt you think so little of me," you added onto your statement. "I don't! I promise I don't!" he quickly responded. You laughed at his actions. "Alright, well still, come here," you pulled him up by his arm, letting him balance by grabbing onto you. You guys left the room. Stan was having trouble walking down the stairs, so you threw one of his arms around your shoulder and held him by your side as you made you way down. You were planning on begging Kyle for a ride, but it seemed things had settled down between everyone, and when you caught a glimpse of him laughing and singing Karaoke with Tolkien, you decided that taking a few dollars out of your pocket for an uber would be worth it.

    "C'mon Stan, I know you're not blackout drunk, get your ass walking," You laughed at him as he wobbled. "I can form thoughts [name], but my legs are struggling," he grumbled. You laughed at his actions, once you guys finally made it out of Bebe's house, you sat on the edge of the sidewalk in front of the house, pulling out your phone and working on getting you guys a ride. A few minutes later a car arrived to pick you guys up. You helped Stan off the sidewalk and into the car, lucky for your guys it was a nice woman, probably in her mid 30's. She made jokes with you and Stan all the way to his house, and with every laugh Stan let out he seemed to get drunker and drunker. You imagined it was the effects of the blunt he had been smoking when you found him upstairs finally catching up to him.

   When you got to Stan's house, you said your goodbyes to your driver, leaving a generous tip. There wasn't another car in his house's driveway besides your car, so you assumed his parents and Shelly were still away. You still had your hold on Stan, your arm wrapped around his waist. You started to say something, before you were caught off by a noise from Stan. You almost completely dropped him in the moment you saw what had happened. This guy had thrown up all over the grass. "Damn it Stan!" you said. You hadn't let go of him, and luckily he hadn't gotten any on either of you but it was still gross. "Stan, you good?" you hesitantly asked. "Yeah, yeah i'm fine, just, oh my god," he mumbled off. You sighed at the sight of him. "Let's get you inside."

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"Stan, you good man?" you asked, seeing him spread out on his bedroom floor. "I think you were right about the weed," he said, his voice sounded airy and light, yet it has a small rasp to it. You had gone to use his bathroom for a moment, and he said he was gonna change while you were in there. "I'm always right, now get up," you reached under his arms, pulling him up. At least he seemed to have achieved getting changed. You put him on his bed, pulling the covers from under him and covering up half his body. "I feel like i'm taking care of a toddler right now," you told him. He giggled at your words for a moment, before stopping after he looked in your eyes.

"Can you stay? I think some of your stuff's in the closet, or you can borrow some of mine." Although his voice sounded off, he still knew what he was saying.

"Sure, just let me use your toothbrush," you told him. "Gross, I have a new one in the mirror cabinet, use that one." You let out a breathy laugh at him. "Okay, i'll use that one." You walked off and made your way to dig for clothes you could wear to sleep, then headed towards Stan's bathroom.

When you finally made your way back into the room, Stan was laying in the center of the bed staring up into the ceiling. "Move over," you told him, once you'd reach his bed. "Dude, sleep on the floor," he replied. "Hell no, if you want me stay you're letting me sleep on the bed, whether you're in it or not." He let out a muffled groan, before rolling over and letting you get in. You laid down next to him. His face was turned toward the wall, so you turned to face the rest of the room, both your backs facing each other. Slowly, you both drifted off to sleep, in the comfort of Stan's room.