stanley uris (male!oc /self insert)

8

it was a hot night in late august when richie tozier received a call from stanley uris. the boy was crying when he answered.

"hello?" richie answered the phone in a frenzy of hope as soon as it began ringing. he was waiting for a call, but not from stan. "richie..." he heard a small voice croak, breath trembling. "who is this?" he asked. he could tell it was stan, but he still felt the need to ask. "it's stan, richie please i-," the boys sentence was cut of by a rough sob.

"woah, woah! stan! what's wrong?" he barked down the phone, glad his parents weren't home. "rich, i need to talk to someone, please can you come over?" stan whimpered, and richie could almost see his face.

when stan cried (which was quite often) his nose ran and often he rubbed it raw with tissues. his eyes went puffy and tears ran down his cheeks in the hundreds. he rarely sobbed, his crying came in soft and sorrowful weeps, so intensely emotional but also seemed calm and collected, so hearing him close to hysterics practically broke richie's heart.

"uh, yeah i'll be over soon, hang in there man," he rushed, trying his best to be reassuring. what could've happened that would make stan cry that hard?

richie arrived at stan's house within ten minutes. he had ran. he sped round the back of the uris house and he noticed stan had already opened his window just wide enough to let richie inside. the ladder was already leaning against the wall. he didn't have time to wonder why the ladder was already there.

his thin legs worked fast and he was soon up the ladder and tumbling into his friends room, knocking over a book as he fell to the wooden floor with an "umph!"

stan's room was the usual pristine condition, his bed made, the stationery on his desk lined up perfectly, the books on his bookshelf were organised by the last name of the author. the only thing off about the room was the boy in it.

stan was on the floor, back leaning against his bed, his eyes looked sore, his eyelashes spiked together with tears, they were red rimmed and glazed over. he was wearing his usual thursday pyjamas, which were a muted cream shade, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which was strange. he wasn't wearing socks, which was also quite odd, but richie didn't question it.

"stan! what's-" richie yelped, suddenly realising stan's parents were probably home. "what's wrong man? what's got you in such a tizzy?" he whispered-yelled, joining his curly haired friend on the ground. unexpectedly, stan threw himself at richie, spindly arms wrapping around his torso and he threw his head upon richie's shoulder and began to wail.

his shoulders were bouncing up and down with every sob that left his throat. he sounded so pained, so wounded, and richie was furious. when he found out who made his friend like this, he would kill them. he practically had steam coming out of his ears.

"rich-" stan choked out, sniffling before a hiccup bubbled out of his mouth. "rich, i don't know what to do..." he grumbled weakly into his shoulder. richie hugged him tightly, letting him dissolve in tears upon his shoulder. "what do you mean you 'don't know what to do'? c'mon you're stan uris, stan the man with a plan!" he quipped half-heartedly. he remembered a time when stan was there for him.

"thank you stan, i can always count on you,"

stan had been listening attentively to his best friend rant and rave about "cute little eddie kaspbrak" for hours. he had heard everything about him, from his head to his toes. it seemed as though richie forgot that stan knew eddie too.

he had given him advice "just talk to him, i see the way he looks at you, just give it a shot!" stan couldn't fathom how someone could be this enraptured with someone else, that was until he met patrick. "you'll know when you're older, deary," richie jested, putting on the voice of an elderly woman. stanley laughed softly. he definitely understood now.

his little tease seemed to work in his favour, he felt stan smile against his shoulder. he lifted his head, detaching from richie's guarded hold. "who made you like this, stan? i'll kill them, i will!" stan shook his head. "rich, i'm like you. i like boys," he admitted. richie was not shocked. "do you like a certain boy? do i know them? did you ask them out and they said no? is that why y-" "shut up richie. i haven't told him anything. but it hurts." stan said, rubbing his eyes, afraid the waterworks were going to start again.

"the way he dances with me, how he touches me so softly and the way he talks to me like no one else, i wish i could just melt into him. the way he makes my heart beat so fast, and how i can't sleep because of him. they keep me up until all hours, just my thoughts of him-" he clamoured, before tears started to form in his eyes again.

richie held his hand on his shoulder and allowed him to collect the pieces of his emotional puzzle and put them back together again.

"i love him," stanley uttered, chin trembling. "who?" richie simply responded. "patrick"

sorry this feels rlly short to me idk ok bye vote if u enjoyed