"jesus, it's warm," stanley murmured, pulling his shirt off. he finished what richie thought must have been his third glass of water before joining richie in his bed. his shirt lay adrift on the floor, and he pulled richie closer.
"i love you," richie mumbled, his fingers coiled in stanley's hair. stanley's hands wrapped around richie's waist. it felt nice to hear. it felt nice to say.
"i love you too." stanley replied, feeling richie's skin warm up against his fingers. it was getting close to summer, and every day it was a little more muggy.
this resulted in quite a sweaty duo lying in richie's bed, but stanley loved richie so much to the point that he wasn't sure he really cared. the two could've started melting together, and stanley might've actually preferred that to existing in his own body day to day.
"stan, can i ask somethin'?" richie asked, curling a piece of stanley's hair on his finger. stanley shuffled around.
"mm," he replied, his voice low.
"what were you paying patrick for?" richie said. stanley went dead still in his grip. richie's fingers traced shapes on stanley. stanley tried to focus on what shapes he was drawing, rather than the question he'd asked.
stanley gulped. his silence was enough to tell richie that he was not supposed to have seen that.
"he's in my chem class, uh, he bought me something for it. i was paying him back." stanley said after a moment. he drummed his fingers on richie's back. his answer didn't particularly illuminate any answers to richie's question. obviously he'd bought something, he'd paid him, for god's sake.
richie hummed, "why's he in your chem?" upon asking it, richie realized that he knew the answer; patrick and his friends had all failed senior year, and thus were repeating needed classes. but what on earth was patrick buying stanley for chemistry?
"failed it last year." stanley answered. richie supposed that was true, at least.
"what'd he buy you?" richie asked. stanley blinked a couple times, sighing softly.
you have to tell him. you have to tell him.
stanley opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it once more. guilt was climbing through his chest up to his throat. richie combed his fingers through stanley's hair.
"i lied. he bought me cigarettes. sorry." stanley admitted. the silence felt heavy. richie inhaled and pulled stanley closer, in concern.
richie had already figured it out. he'd guessed the moment he'd seen the money exchanged, and he would have been stupid to have not noticed how stanley smiled less, afraid his teeth were yellowing. he coughed more, and when he went long periods of time hanging out with anyone, he'd get lethargic, like he was missing something.
all of that, plus stanley smelt like smoke all the time. he tasted like smoke. richie hadn't mentioned it because he'd been so scared to admit it. he'd been the one to give stanley his taste for cigarettes. it was his fault.
"oh, baby. are you okay?"
"yeah. i know i'm making a shit choice, but they're the only things that help my fucking headaches. and you smoke too. shut up." stanley's shut up was lighthearted, but richie knew he sorta was to blame. he was being a hypocrite. richie figured that stanley's headaches might be coming from withdrawal anyway.
richie paused, unsure about what to say.
"how'd you start talking to patrick hockstetter about them?" he asked, kissing stanley's forehead before speaking. stanley shuffled in the bed.
richie hated the idea of stanley willingly talking to patrick. patrick's entire group had purposefully pissed them off their whole lives, and stanley was so in need of cigarettes he'd turned to patrick hockstetter.
stanley sighed lightly, "he is in my chemistry class. i figured he'd be able to get them, so i asked him."
richie absolutely hated the picture.
(not that richie could have known this, but the reality had been worse. stanley had tried to approach patrick but had frozen up, unable to speak. patrick had threatened him and found him after school, where after a terrifying moment, stanley's brain had worked once more and he'd been able to tell patrick what he wanted.
patrick didn't believe him at first. but stanley went on, and slowly, patrick agreed. he seemed to leave stanley alone for the most part after that.)
richie inhaled sharply, "stan, i know i'm going to sound like a hypocrite, but i don't want you to smoke. it's fucking horrible. it'll ruin your life, it's ruining mine, it's not worth it." richie knew it wouldn't really work, but it was worth a try.
it hadn't worked on him, but his parents could have tried harder. maybe, if richie could just do it right, he could keep stanley from it. he just wanted to protect him.
"i know." stanley muttered. he kissed richie's chest.
richie knew what that meant. he wasn't winning.
the two lay in silence for a moment until richie shuffled, his hands tightening around stanley's chest.
"holy fuck, are those your ribs? stanley, they're so sharp!" richie commented.
stanley laughed, but it was cold for some reason, "yeah."
richie's fingers ran over them delicately, "wow," he muttered, not impressed, but rather, concerned. had stanley's ribs always protruded this much?
after a moment of silence, it was apparent to richie that stanley had nothing more to say. stanley let out one big exhale, and then leaned into richie. richie had to keep his eyes from watering. he'd given stanley access to his first cigarettes. he'd done this.
