stanley uris (male!oc /self insert)

7

"how are your knees?" patrick inquiried after they had gone silent. stan had spotted a black capped chickadee, it was definitely not the most rare of bird species, but patrick had asked about it, and how could stan say no to that face? he examined his bandaged knees, "they don't hurt as much anymore, thank you for.." he paused, searching for the right words, "looking after me," he finished with a smile.

stanley opened his bird book, flicking to a blank page, noting down his discovery, he didn't mind how common it was. a droplet of water fell onto his open book, making the perfectly uniform print bleed. stan grimaced and shut the book. even more drops fell and soon enough, rain started pouring down from the sky. "ah shit!" he hissed, both boys standing up. the rain was coming down heavy.

stan remembered, the clubhouse. "come on, this way!" he prompted, grabbing patrick by the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him along as the ran through the barrens. "stan slow down!" patrick laughed, trying to catch up with the speedy boy. "where are you taking me?" he asked, but they had already arrived at the door. "what is this?" he asked, watching stan fling open the wooden door and motioning for him to follow him.

"me and the losers come here when bowers and his gang are after us, i suppose it works in this situation too," stan explained as he descended.

the 'clubhouse' was dimly lit by one flashlight and cracks in the wood. there was a lone hammock swinging aimlessly from two nails in the ceiling. patrick walked over to the dull brown fabric and sat down, his whole body folding as he sank into it. stan took a seat on a small wooden ledge.

"when did you guys build this place?" patrick asked, throwing his legs over the side of the hammock. "ben built it way over a year ago, he showed us all and we just started hanging out here," he explained.

stanley had his eyes glued to patrick. part of him still could not believe they went from silently pining for each other, to actually hanging out by themselves. he recalled having a dream like this, where the two of them were alone. he had many dreams like that, those he often woke up, red in the face, his heart beating out of his chest.

patrick's curls were lying in a pool under his head and his eyes were focusing on the ceiling, where the sound of rain made fantasy like percussion. one stream of dull light streamed across his face, his bright sky blue eyes shone, his pupils a small dot.

stan couldn't help but gaze at the other boys lips. he often found himself getting trapped in an endless loop. think out patrick, think about his lips, flush a deep scarlet, pretend it never happened. but he couldn't help it. the urge was getting bigger. he didn't know what he urged to do, but he knew he couldn't. he wished he could be close to him, close enough to feel his breath on his face, close enough to count every freckle on his cheeks, close enough to-

stan was flung back into reality when a pencil had been thrown at him, hitting him in the chest and falling into his lap. "stan!" patrick frowned, seeing the boys shocked and frightened face at the sudden attack, "does that radio work?"

stan got up and grabbed the radio. "i'm not sure how to turn it on, it's bill's and he's the only one who-" he began, the radio burst to life as soon as he turned it on and twisted a few knobs. the song playing was need your loving tonight by queen.

patrick immediately leaped up. "let's dance stan!" he exclaimed, mouth stretched in a huge grin. stan began to shake his head "oh, no you go ahead i don't dance," he murmured behind his hands. patrick clearly was not satisfied. "c'mon stanny! just this one song!" he pleaded, clasping his hands together.

the two boys soon where dancing around the room. they weren't the most graceful or articulate, but they jumped and flailed with vigour and soon started hysterically giggling. patrick had grabbed stan's hand and was spinning him around, when he tripped for the second time that day and fell forward. luckily he fell into patrick's arms, his face going straight into his chest. it was lucky for his health, but not for his feelings. it had stopped raining and the sun was blaring through the wood of the clubhouse.

"woah! you okay? can't have you taking another tumble now can we?" patrick giggled, petting stan's head and standing him upright again. he still had his hands on his shirt, he was grabbing at the soft fabric of his shirt, balling it in his fists. his face was pink and patrick noticed his wide eyes, parted lips and flushed cheeks as a sign he was embarrassed, so he let him go. both boys laughed it off but their hearts were both hammering in their chest, not just from the dancing.

a different song was playing now, neither of them knew the song, but danced anyway, playfully bouncing around. they both wished they had kissed the other.

the taller boy couldn't get the image of stanley out of his head. with his hair in disarray, his lips pouty and pink, his cheek ruddy. he wished he could hold his hands, touch his neck softly, kiss him ever so gently, feel his delicate lips against his. he wished he could brush his cherub curls away from his face, and hold him close to him forever. he wanted nothing more than to feel him. just to touch him delicately and kiss him everywhere. but most of all his lips. he couldn't get that image out of his head.

after they had stopped dancing and we're sitting on the ground, stan asked him a question "do you like anyone?" he took a breath. "like...have you ever liked someone so much it hurts?". patrick nodded. stan seemed slightly relieved by that answer but also worried. they both thought the same thought it's not me. "yeah... me too," stan replied.