Stan packed his things into a bag, looking at himself in the mirror. He was in an oversized sweater and blue jeans, wearing a pair of boots. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to look decent. Why? Richie. He grabbed his phone when it lit up with a message from Richie.
richbitch: I'm here, darling.
Darling.. He thought with a smile before pocketing his phone and climbing out of his window. He looked over, seeing Richie in just a pair of ripped jeans and converse. He swallowed as he felt his cheeks grow hot. He tossed his bag down, climbing down and going over to him. "You should wear a shirt."
"Why should I? It will be on the floor with the rest of our clothes anyway." Stan blushed, glad it was dark out.
"You're an idiot." he said, putting his bag in the bed of the truck and getting in. Richie chuckled, getting in and starting the truck before driving off. "What's your--"
"Family like?" Richie cut him off. "They're never home." Stan nodded, playing with his sleeve. Richie's eyes glanced at his hands before he reached over and grabbed his hand. "Don't worry. You're safe with me." he said in a soft and gentle tone that made Stan's heart skip a beat.
"Thanks.." He mumbled, looking away to hide his red cheeks.
The rest of their night consisted of smiles and hushed voices.
Stan woke up the next morning next to the sleeping figure that was his crush, Richie's arms around his waist. He blushed, biting his lip, and reached over to grab his phone to check the time. 7:56 am. Shit. He quickly got up, shaking Richie. "Richard Tozier, wake up! We're late for school!"
Richie groaned, grabbing him and pulling him close, kissing his shoulder. "Stan.. Baby.. We can just stay home today.." he mumbled. Stan relaxed. When he was with his parents, he had to go everyday. No matter what. Maybe being with Richie would be a good thing...
