made up things we'll never really say : stozier

13

stan

stan is still in bed when mike shows up. he's always first to arrive, though he lives the farthest. it's always impressed stan; he's always found himself feeling understood around mike, like he knows intricacies without ever needing to say a thing.

with that in mind, and a twinge of guilt for never being as good a friend as his are to him, stanley gets out of bed when richie opens the front door. he swings his door open to see mike and richie, already engrossed in conversation.

"hey stan!" mike says, walking over to give him a hug. stan lets him, welcoming him in with a soft exhale over mike's shoulder.

"so what are we watching tonight, stan? you decided yet?" richie turns to him, smiling as he pushes his glasses up his face. stan's eyes linger on him for a moment, his beauty overtaking stan's mind.

stan looks down to the floor with a stupid smile on his face, "shit, was that my choice to make? i have no idea," he says, laughing a little. mike laughs too.

"it's okay, i'm sure ben will have something, he always does." mike sits down on the couch, fiddling with the hem of his pants.

"this is true," richie concedes, then turning to check his phone, "oh, eds and bill are almost here, one sec," he turns on his heels and shoves his feet back into his sneakers, grabbing the lanyard with house keys off the counter. it happens in one swift motion, he disappears through the door.

stanley turns to mike. mike is warm, and kind, and stanley feels so bad that he hasn't seen him in ages. he wanders over to the couch, determined to make things better, at least for a little while.

"so, how are you? how's work?"

beverly is the last to arrive, just as bill had predicted. by that time, ben has decided they're watching the thing, amongst certain contempt.

("is it actually scary? i know it's a horror movie, and you know i don't fuck with that!"

"no, eddie, well, yes, but not that bad! it's honestly just a well made movie! c'mon, please?"

"you don't sound very confident about that."

"please?"

"fine.")

almost all of them fit on the couch together, stan's body squished between bill and richie, in his opinion the right place to be. eddie's on the floor, something about overheating with too much body heat. a ridiculous complaint, considering the weather outside, but none of them argue with him.

"that dog is sooooo a thing," beverly rolls her eyes.

"i don't care! he's perfect to me, he can't do any wrong," mike replies, shuffling so his arm is on the top of the couch, behind ben and beverly.

"uh, beverly, i believe it would be 'that dog is so the thing," richie does an annoying voice, but it gets a laugh out of stanley. it's pathetic, but it's something human. he has no other choice but to be human when he's around the losers. his losers. his army against his own personal armageddon.

he had been dreading this, all the losers coming over for movie night, but richie was right; it was only human to want to connect to other people, and he had never felt connected to anyone like he did this group of six.

"oh shut up," bill says, and another round of laughter breaks out.

richie turns to stanley, as if reading his mind. richie's eyes sparkle, and stanley feels a longing so deep he must have been born with it. "do you feel better?" richie whispers, and his arm sneaks around stanley's shoulders.