21

Confessions of three gays

"Can I go home yet?"

Richie was feeling trapped. He couldn't get out of his bed without having to alert a nurse to help him, which meant he couldn't take a piss on his own. They had wanted to make sure there was no internal bleeding or permanent damage to his body or his brain, so he was still in the hospital after a few days.

Richie had somehow managed to only get a broken leg, and a few scratches here and there. He was also having trouble remembering what had happened the night that he got hit, but he figured it was because he had too much to drink. 

That was one thing that he did remember. They had gone out for his birthday, and Richie kept ordering shots. After that, not much else came to mind. They had done an MRI just to make sure his memory issues weren't serious, or permanent.

"H-how a-are you g-going to get to c-class? Y-you can't hobble a-around."

"Oh? Aren't you going to give me piggyback rides to and from class? Carry me around bridal style perhaps?"

"B-be serious R-Richie."

"I guess I'll just have to take a cab."

"M-maybe I-it's time f-for one of us to get a c-car?"

"In New York? That's a pain in the ass."

"Yeah I g-guess."

Bill's stutter had almost fully come back. It wasn't as bad as it had been when he was a kid, but It was definitely back.

"Are you okay Bill?"

"Y-your the o-one in th-the h-hospital, and y-you wanna know if I-I'm okay?"

"Bill, your stutter is back. The last time I heard you stutter was your birthday when you got drunk and were talking about Georgie. But it was gone the next day. What really happened the other night?"

"N-nothing." Bill was clearly lying.

"Bill. Please tell me?"

"S-Stan k-kissed someone."

It all came crashing back into Richie's mind. He remembered. Stanley had kissed Patty Blum across the street right in front of the two.

"I brought donuts!" Stanley came into the room carrying a large pink box from Richie's favorite bakery.

Richie didn't want to make eye contact with Stan. Everyone was silent.

"What did you tell him?" Stanley was talking to Bill now. His tone was stern, he was not happy.

"H-he a-asked." Bill's voice was timid.

"I did. I wanted to know Stanley."

"I saw her across the street and went to say hi. We're friends. She had just gotten dumped I was trying to be nice, comfort her. She took it the wrong way. She kissed me. Did he tell you that? Did he tell you that I've been sleeping on the couch for the last few nights? Did he tell you that I've already apologized about a thousand times?"

"I-I'm just u-upset s-still." Bill's hands were shaking, and his lips were quivering.

This is the first time Richie had ever seen them have a real argument about something since Richie had kissed Bill over three years ago. Sometimes they would argue about stupid things, and agree to disagree, but never like this.

"I'm upset too Bill! I'm upset that it's my fault that Richie is in here. And I'm upset that you don't believe me about Patty!"

They were shouting now. The shouting reminded him of the shouting his mother did during a manic episode, or the shouting his father did while beating him. His head was pounding, it felt like it could explode at any moment.

"Stop it! Both of you!"  Richie could feel an ache in his throat, he wanted to cry. So he did.

Richie grabbed the pillow from behind his head and forced it over his face. He sobbed hard, feeling nothing but pure sorrow in that moment.

"Richie?" Stanley placed a hand on Richie's arm, trying to pull the pillow away, so he didn't suffocate himself, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." Richie said still sobbing.

"I-it w-wasn't your f-fault S-Stanley. W-we were all drinking, a-and I w-was the one holding onto Richie, b-but I let g-go. Th-that's why he s-stumbled into the s-street."

"It wasn't anyone's fault. Not yours, not Stanley's. If were going to place blame, it should be on me. I downed a few more shots after you guys left." Richie admitted.

"I w-went t-to the b-bathroom t-to d-drink from a f-flask I s-snuck in. I didn't want y-you or Stan to s-see." 

The truth was, getting drunk helped Bill remember his brother so vividly. It always led to him getting upset, but it was the only way he could see his brother so vividly in his memories. 

"I went outside to smoke." Bill and Richie looked at Stanley.

Stanley had never been a smoker. So him going outside to smoke was probably one of the most shocking things he'd ever done.

"When did you start smoking? I thought you hated cigarettes?" Richie asked.

"I wasn't going to smoke a cigarette. I've just been smoking weed."

"Stanley Uris? A stoner?" Richie's tears had gone and now he chuckled at the thought of Stanley smoking a doobie.

"Y-you d-didn't t-t-tell me y-you s-smoked?"

"I feel like I'm drowning, Bill." Stanley's confession hurt all three of them.

Bill and Stan had been inseparable since they had started dating near the end of senior year. They were young, and they were each others first love. They had worked so well together for so long, but things were getting to be too much. He needed something to take the edge off, some days.

"I'm always working, or in class, or focusing on something other than my own well being." Stan continued, "I started smoking with Patty a couple weeks ago. Whenever I get overwhelmed, it fells like someone is standing on my chest, and the only thing that takes that feeling away is lighting up a joint."

"I-is it o-o-overwhelming b-being w-with me?" Bill didn't feel quite as hurt about what had happened with Patty anymore. Now he felt hurt that Stanley felt like he couldn't talk to him about this. He was his partner, he was supposed to be there for him.

"No, of course not. I just. . . Its hard to try and pretend I'm okay when I'm not. But I didn't want you to worry about me. You already worry so much about Richie, I couldn't have you worrying about me too."

"Y-you d-don't g-get t-to tell me who I c-can and c-can't worry ab-b-bout. If y-you h-had t-told me, m-maybe w-we wouldn't b-be having this c-convers-sation right n-n-now."

Richie was both literally and metaphorically stuck in the middle. The two were now talking to one another as if he was no longer there. 

"You both need to shut the hell up." Richie interjected, "Stan, I think you should give Bill some more time, and some space. And Bill, you need to figure out if your willing to forgive Stan for all of this and move on. And for the love of God, can someone please scratch the itch on my knee that I can't reach."

~~~

A/N: I don't like this chapter very much but I promise that the next one will be better. I've been really tired recently and I've also been super stressed out, so please be patient with these next couple of updates.

If your reading this, comment "the list is longer than my wang"
Just kidding you don't have to. . . unless. . .