ethereal : it oneshots

slept in your sheets

pairing: stozier

a/n: bi-yearly completely fluff oneshot! :)

"just one bong hoot, i don't even have that much weed," richie was rustling through everything under his bed, stanley leaning against the wall. stan kicked richie lightly in the ass, "fuck off!"

richie had hit his head under the bed. soon he resurfaced, a black garbage bag in his hand. 

"won't it smell terrible in your room?" stanley said, richie shrugging in response.

"it's my apartment. who cares?" richie had a point, so stanley finally sat down in the computer chair at richie's desk. richie settled the bowl in his bong and stan watched with a strange focus. "lighter, pretty please," richie asked, and stan obeyed, placing a lighter gently in richie's palm. 

stan's fingers grazed richie's as he did so, and he had to choose not to think about it. he was sure he'd think about it once he was high, so he needed to be as normal as possible now to cancel it out. something about log and negative log functions crossing each other flashed through stanley's head. 

"you—you know how to smoke from a bong, right?" richie pushed his glasses up his face as they'd slipped down whilst adjusting the bowl. stanley narrowed his eyes in offense, nodding.

"we've smoked together, asshole."

"and as i remember, you struggled, so it's a fair question," richie shrugged, moving closer to his window. stanley rolled his eyes as richie hooked his foot around the leg of the rolling chair and pulled it closer as well.

richie went first, a large cloud of smoke leaving his mouth directly to the windowsill, a dry cough then emitting from his lips. he smacked his lips, like his throat was itchy. he passed the bong over to stan, who was laughing at richie.

as stan smoked, the dry cough hit him too, and it was richie's turn to laugh (though it ended in more coughing, in an uroboros sort of endless circle). immediately, stan could feel blinking becoming a manual affair. 

"mm, one bong hoot he said, like not even that much he said," stanley mumbled to himself, leaning back in the chair. richie snorted, kicking stan's legs with his foot.

"thanks yoda."

stan flipped off richie. 

there was a silence for a moment, before stan spoke up.

"do you think demons are corporeal entities or do you think they have to possess something?" somehow, the strangeness of stan's question went completely over richie's head, instead sending him into deep contemplation on the subject.

"why can't they be both?" richie put forth an equally intriguing subject to stanley for a moment, before he frowned.

"aren't they fallen angels? how does that fit in?" 

the two continued their conversation for a long time. like, an obscenely long time. at some point, and stan wasn't really sure when, he'd shifted over to richie's bed, lying down flat staring up at the ceiling. the next thing he'd known, richie was next to him, like they were stargazing at a popcorn sky.

it was getting darker outside, stanley supposed, so maybe it was fitting.

at one point, richie sat up violently, "can you hear that?" 

stanley listened intently, but all he could hear was the music one of richie's neighbours was playing. oh, and birds. why were the birds out? what were they doing out? stan got a little distracted, and a heavy paused preceded his answer, "what am i listening for?"

"bells! like, seriously, bells." 

stanley went to open his mouth but richie held up a hand, his eyes shut as he listened intently.

"are you having some kind of religious moment? are you actually catholic?" stanley snickered and spoke anyway, and richie turned to him, giving stan a moment to appreciate how skewered his glasses were on him. god, he was pretty, wasn't he? stupid, but damn pretty.

"am i that high? am i dying?" richie suddenly laughed and it turned into a wheeze, crashing back down into the bedsheets next to stanley.

"i think you're just high." 

richie buried his face into the bedsheets, "fuck!"

stanley laughed, and richie rolled to face him. stan let a smile linger as he stared at richie. "i'm really high too, if it helps."

richie reached out his pinky, "solidarity?"

when stan took it with his own, he felt the warmth radiating off of richie's hands and wanted to interlace their fingers, or just hold his hand in his own. something small, something simple. but he didn't, instead locking their pinkies and nodding.

hours later, when they'd taken more hits,  the high still in full effect, and stanley had changed into sweatpants, the two were lying down on the bed again, this time stanley facing the wall, on top of richie's covers as richie sat upright on the bed, watching him.

"you sleepin' now? 'cause people generally get under the covers for that," richie said, reaching a hand out and placing it on stan's arm. stan exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh but without the effort.

"shut up, you're right," stanley mumbled, still not moving. whether or not he was refusing to move because of how much he liked richie's hand on his arm. when richie moved forward and clamped his hand to stanley's thigh, stan nearly exploded.

"well, c'mon!" richie yanked at stan's leg, making stan yelp as he rolled into richie, who only laughed.

"okay! okay, okay," stanley shuffled until he was under the covers, and he felt richie get underneath too. he shifted to look at richie, who was staring right back at him.

"hi." richie said simply, and stan couldn't help the stupid smile on his face. 

"hi," stanley echoed in a whisper, blinking sleepily. "goodnight, richie." 

"sleep well, stan." the two were strangely serious, but the smile on stanley's face was still present as he turned around in richie's bed, facing away.

then, a little like richie had done it his entire life, richie scooted closer and put an arm over stanley, linking a leg as well. it made stanley aware of his hair standing up in shock, and his heart racing out of his chest.

he could hear richie, whose face was now buried in his hair, breathing hot air against the back of his head. it was as if he'd already fallen asleep, the moment they'd touched.

in a way, stanley felt like he'd gone to heaven the moment they connected, so he wouldn't have blamed richie if he had immediately passed out. it was comfortable, obviously, but there was something so simply and reminiscent about it; like they'd done this a million times in other lives. stanley smiled bigger. maybe they had.