stanley woke up upsettingly early. he always had, and while it was quite useful on a school day, on a saturday it was not ideal. especially a saturday where richie was right next to him, snoring loudly.
he shuffled a little bit, trying to wake richie up innocuously. it worked, somehow, because it spurred richie, and he yawned loudly.
"stan?" richie asked, his voice quiet and his eyes still closed.
"yeah. i didn't want to steal your truck, so i figured i'd stay over." stanley mumbled, and richie finally opened his eyes, realizing his head was quite close to stanley's chest.
richie moved over, "sorry."
"i don't mind."
stanley got up as richie rolled over, reaching for his phone. when richie cried out in pain, stanley already had a water and advil in his hands. "i prepared these yesterday, figured you'd be pretty hungover." richie laughed out his nose. he took the pills and water graciously.
"i'll drive you home in a bit, when i don't feel like there's a cinder bloc--" richie cut himself off, squinting his eyes at stanley. more specifically, stanley's neck, and for the first time, it occurs to him that betty might have left some marks. richie looked up to stanley, fear rampant in his eyes, "did i give you those?"
"what? no, no, betty did. do you remember anything from yesterday?" stanley laughed a little at richie's panic, and richie sighed.
"uh... no, not really. um... i remember freaking out at greta... smoking in the truck, but none of the details." richie put the glass back down and leaned down on the bed. stanley fumbled with the collar of his polo, thinking about betty sucking on his neck. he then held it out, away from his neck thinking about his parents seeing him with a hickey.
"richie, how the fuck do i get rid of this?" stanley pointed violently at his neck, and richie examined his neck carefully.
"um... let's find out."
a couple minutes later, a slightly less hungover richie had a whisk in one hand and a phone in the other. he was leaning over stanley, whisking his neck. it was very strange for stanley. stanley was lying down and richie was essentially straddling him (he'd claimed every other position didn't work very well).
"i don't know that this is working very well, stan," richie muttered, and stanley sighed loudly.
"fuck. my parents will kill me. what do i do?" stanley sat up, richie unhooking himself from stanley's legs and rolling over.
"uh-" richie had no clue what to say, and he was thankful for the knock on the door that interrupted him. the door opened and richie's mom opened the door.
"richie, the laund--oh hi stanley. when did you get here?" she smiled warmly towards stanley. he always liked richie's mom. she had a kind face to begin with, and she always had some kind of baked good. she had the same face as richie, and it was a pretty one.
"last night." he answered simply. she stared at the hickey on stanley's neck. "that's from a girl. i went to a party last night."
"oh. right. i forgot that richie told me about that. anyway, richie, the laundry needs to be done. and, stanley, if you need to cover that, i have some concealer." stanley nodded violently. she closed the door, and richie laughed.
"she's a blessing," stanley said. richie nodded.
"after we cover it up i'll drive you home, promise."
in the truck, it took richie three minutes of the car just running before he started going anywhere. stanley decided that it was for three separate reasons. one because of the reason that he always did, one because he was still a little hungover, and one for whatever he was thinking about that was making him so upset. greta, probably.
-
"so how hungover are you?" stanley asked beverly, the two of them sitting at a round table in the library. the two were studying for a class that only the two of them shared.
"decently. how was count ripsom?" beverly opened her binder and flipped through the pages. stanley lightly scoffed.
"everyone's comparing her to a vampire. it was fine. she's hot, but i had to leave before we got past making out." stanley scribbled notes from his laptop.
"that's all? it was fine?" beverly rolled her eyes, and stanley raised an eyebrow. "babe, it should be way better than fine. do you not like her or something?"
"what do you mean? she's beautiful. i like her." stanley looked to beverly from his laptop. beverly shook her head.
"i don't know, stanley. i mean, forgive me for this, but kissing bill feels way better than fine. if you don't like kissing betty then i don't think you like her all that much." beverly tucked a hair behind his ear, and stanley subconsciously acknowledged how pretty beverly was.
he could never like her like that, but she was pretty with her hair reaching shoulder length. she was wearing a green dress and it truly complimented her well and--he needed to stop thinking before he objectified her.
"well i've never really felt that kissing any girl, so," stanley said offhand, blinking a couple times before looking back at beverly. "i don't mean it like that. i'm not-i'm not not into girls. i am into girls. i just-"
"it's fine, stan. whatever you are into." beverly reached an arm across the table and placed her hand on stanley's arm. he froze and smiled awkwardly.
"yeah. girls." stanley gulped. beverly let go of his arm.
"anyway, in other news, guess who almost hooked up with a girl yesterday?" beverly changed the topic.
something stanley could say about beverly was that she was a surprisingly good friend. she knew when to push and when to stop. he hoped bill was grateful for her. she was hot and nice. what a win.
"uh, i don't know. ben?" stanley should not have said ben, in retrospect. of course it was not ben. ben was not only a very kind individual who would never 'hook up' with a girl, but he was also very infatuated with beverly. he hid it well, somehow, but everyone who was not bill or beverly knew.
"no, mike! i say almost, because, uh, bill got in trouble. anyway, mike was totally making out with cheryl and then josh told eddie to move out of the way. it wasn't that he was truly being an asshole on purpose, he's just kind of naturally a dick. anyway, then bill decked him, and then greta came down looking very disgruntled and told bill to get the fuck out of her house." beverly told the story so casually, and stanley sat in an even amount of shock and laughter.
"good for mike! it checks out that thanks to bill, nobody got anywhere past first base. except you. no offence." stanley commented, beverly chuckling.
