ethereal : it oneshots

an angel gets his wings

a/n: hi friends. christmas themed oneshot :) if i'm inspired enough i might write a chanukah one too WHO KNOWS. i should be sleeping but i wrote all this instead

"you do not hate christmas, you're kidding." richie's stare is serious for once, analyzing stanley with every inch of his cognitive ability.

"i am kidding. i was testing you to see if you'd make an antisemetic joke," stanley laughs quietly, to himself. one of those jokes only he gets, it seems, but richie chuckles anyway.

"you know me too well, staniel."

"i really do."

stan rapps on bill's door, his knuckles surely in pain based on how red they'd become out in the snow. richie wants to grab them, breathe hot air until stan starts sweating, but he won't. he isn't insane.

"hey, we were just setting up scrooge! thank god you guys got here in time." mike welcomes them in, the two shaking the snow off their boots.

"god, i hate that movie," richie rolls his eyes.

"what?! how?" ben comes from around the corner, popcorn in hand.

"old man learns a lesson in his sleep—BORING! show me a baby learning the same lesson, now that's interesting!" richie fake yawns.

"something is really messed up in your head, you know that?" stan flicks richie in the forehead, but richie had seen stanley laugh.

"oh you know i do."

stanley finds a place on the couch, leaving just enough room for richie to take the corner spot. richie jumps into the spot, landing on stanley slightly.

"you dickhead," stanley laughs.

"just claiming my spot, staniel dearest," richie says, stretching his legs out over top of stanley. bill rolls his eyes at them from next to stan, but he doesn't say anything.

mike presses play on the vcr machine, leaning up against the edge of the couch.

they make their way through scrooge, not to richie's liking, as he makes quite clear. the first time richie complains, stanley threatens to take richie's socks and hide them, but richie reminds stan that it's really more of a punishment for stan. every time after that, stan merely smacks him on the head, richie grabbing his wrist on the occasion he's fast enough to stop stan. 

halfway through, stan takes his sweater off, and richie tries not to stare at stan in the shirt he'd lent him—a stupid christmas shirt, with a moose decorated in christmas lights. stan chucks his sweater right at richie's face, and as richie laughs he can't help but breathe in the smell of stanley.

after the movie ends, beverly stands up, "i'm hitting a smoke break, richie?"

"yup, on my way! mind me, dear stanley," richie scrambles to get up, moving his entire body weight onto stan for a moment as he stands. stanley pushes him so that he stumbles for a second, but he doesn't complain.

"you're real touchy, aren't you?" beverly ribs richie the moment they're outside, giving him a dart as she adjusts her pants so they won't touch the snow.

richie just stands right in it, the bottom of his jeans surely soaking. "oh shut up." he fiddles with the lighter, silent for a moment like he's trying to think of a comeback. sure enough, "like you and ben aren't this close to canoodling."

"ugh, richie, stop that," beverly rolls her eyes, though there's a tease of a smile at her lips. "you ever gonna tell him?" she twists the subject back on richie, who leans his entire body over the balcony.

sure, yeah, hey stan, you know i love you?

"i doubt it." richie tuts, flicking ash off of his cigarette into the snow. he takes a long drag, like he's trying to forget the question beverly asked. it doesn't work though, because beverly doesn't reply, and richie just can't stand silence, "you know he doesn't feel that way."