made up things we'll never really say : stozier

4

stan

living with your best friend who also happens to be your fuck buddy who you also happen to be in love with is not for the weak.

without the middle part, stanley could have told you that months ago. now, though, stan finds himself cleaning up and showering in richie's bathroom a lot more than he could have expected. it's not like they have sex often, it's maybe once a week at most, but as much as it's killing stan, there are surprising benefits, like the fact that richie's shower somehow has better water pressure than his.

and also moments like this, where stanley cooks dinner and richie stands behind him, nibbling at his neck gently. okay, so maybe stan's screwed, because god knows this is not how friends with benefits is supposed to work, but he's not going to complain. maybe this is the norm for best friends with benefits, or, something.

"genuinely, this is my thank you for this," richie mumbles, gesturing with one hand to the fried rice that stanley is cooking. his breath is hot on stan's neck, in a way that feels incredibly domestic, and stan leans into it. honestly, richie's hands feel so right and natural when they're flush against stan's torso, having slipped gently under his shirt.

"so kind of you," stanley deadpans, stirring the rice. he'd never really learned how to flirt, or how to kiss, or how to do anything, really. he has yet to admit to richie that he's never done anything like what they're doing, and while he's sure richie knows, saying it out loud is too close to a confession.

"aht aht, attitude, tsk tsk..." richie backs away from stanley, heading to the other side of the counter to sit down. stan misses his touch the moment he's gone, but he keeps his mouth shut. instead, he focuses in on adding mushrooms to the fried rice, being sure not to miss a single one. it's small, tedious things that keep him occupied nowadays.

richie's drumming his fingers, and probably swinging his legs like a toddler, if stan knows him.

"wanna get high tonight? i don't have anything important tomorrow." richie cocks his head, and stan rolls his eyes, but he knows his answer with certainty.

in an attempt to not sound too desperate, stan replies, "sure."

every time he glances over to richie, stan is obnoxiously reminded of how attractive richie is. like always. it's as if a god decided to bless richie with puberty, allowing him to grow into t-shirts and show off his forearms and somehow pull off a god-damned hat. it's infuriating to stan, honestly.

as stan stirs the pan, he thinks about the fact that richie once admitted he was embarrassed about what his chest looked like without a shirt on. stanley couldn't fathom that richie would be insecure about anything about him, except for maybe his awful taste in humour. it makes stan frown as he reaches to turn off the stove.

after dinner, out on the balcony, richie gets out the bong, "do you wanna grind?" he says mindlessly, passing the grinder. stanley laughs at him in a way that hasn't felt this real since before stan knew what richie looks like without clothes on. richie snorts in response, "oh shut up."

"am i just a housewife to you, richie? cooking and grinding?" stan says, nonetheless packing weed into the grinder and getting to work.

"staniella the housewife, that's right." richie disappears for a second, filling the bong with water, only to return to his spot, a smidgen closer to stan than before.

"how sweet."

soon enough, they pack weed into the bowl and richie begins smoking, stanley leaning against the balcony railing on the ground. stan's watching richie, who's holding his hair out of his face as he's hunched over the bong.

"do you work tomorrow?" richie says after exhaling, handing the bong over. stan takes it out of his hands, keeping a hand out for the lighter, and shakes his head. "do you want to come to bev's? she's trying to finish this puzzle and wanted you to help."

stan glances up at richie from the bong, and takes a moment to properly hit it before speaking, "you know that's a serious request. i am not normal with puzzles. you know this." stan just barely gets through the sentence before coughing lightly, leading to him doubling over.

richie laughs at him, "i know! but if you're willing to go insane, bev would appreciate it."

"yeah, i mean sure, okay."

later, once they return inside, they find themselves in richie's bed, the perfect temperature. stan is squinting at richie, reading the craters and the textures on richie's face. he wants to memorize them, before he loses the ability to.

"do—rich, you haven't told anyone, right?" stanley's hand holds the side of richie's face, as richie lies next to him, leg hooked into stan's.

"what? oh, no, i haven't." richie lets his head fall in stan's hand, resting on stan's shoulder.

stanley nearly sighs in relief. this is his secret, his short moments to keep in his head to replay when life is too heavy to bear. to know that he might never get what he wants, but he got this close. richie's hand, grasping the outer edge of his pelvic bone, softly rubbing his thigh every now and then.

he might never know if richie loves him, but he knows that at the very least, on occasion, richie has wanted him. that's enough.

"okay, cool." stan says, overwhelmed with how casual their affection feels. it feels obnoxiously normal, like this is something richie enjoys doing because it's him. but stanley knows better.

richie laughs through his nose. "who would i tell? oh, hey bev, did you know stan's into guys? oh, i found out when he sucked my dick this one time, it was totally crazy!" his laugh afterward is much louder, much more annoying, and he lifts his head again to look at stan.

"you might say that! how do i know what you talk about with bev?" stan can feel his face burning, blush spreading through his cheeks as he tries to defend himself.

"no, i don't talk to anyone about our conjoined sex life, staniel," richie replies, and as if to prove a point, kisses him.

the kiss lasts a few seconds, stan still grasping richie's cheek with his palm. it feels far too casual, and stan decides a line is being crossed. still, he lets richie kiss him. maybe he's too high.

when they pull away, stan speaks. "okay, well, thank you, i guess," stan says, "you didn't know i was into guys?" his hand moves to richie's hair, pulling it through gently to tug the knots out.

"i don't think anyone does, really." richie shrugs. it makes stan stunned enough to blink a couple times, and his brain empties itself before reloading.

he'd always thought they knew. he remembered being so surprised that richie had wanted to room with him. he remembered crying, in fear they knew and they weren't ever going to invite him out again. richie had only ever had girlfriends, though he'd been a little weirdly possessive of eddie in elementary school, now that stan was thinking about it.

stan sighs, relieved. "oh, wow. i fully thought everyone figured it out. well, not you, 'cause you're stupid. but everyone else."

"okay, asshole, the joke's on you, i figured it out first." richie replies, and stan wants to kiss him again, but he doesn't.

"i basically told you, technically," stan teases, and richie smiles like a goof.

"shut up."

"make me." stanley decides he is definitely too high.