about three hours later, stanley would wake up on richie's chest, in richie's bed, as the sun went down. he was wrapped in richie's arms, richie's hands softly put on his back. one of his hands was tracing (seemingly unconsciously) up and down stanley's spine. it was weirdly comforting.
stanley quickly realized that he was supposed to go home hours ago. the sun was emitting a very orange glow, and it lit up the entire inside of richie's room. stanley's hands were resting on richie's chest, and he started tapping one of his fingers on richie. richie showed no signs of waking up.
"rich," stanley whispered, getting nothing more than a grumble from richie. his arms tightened around stanley, and stanley couldn't help but smile begrudgingly. god, he was cute.
"richieee," stanley whispered again, once again failing to wake him up. finally, stanley started shaking richie gently. slowly, richie mumbling to himself, he woke up. richie looked into stanley's eyes and laughed softly.
"hi, beautiful," richie mumbled, his voice low and rusty. he blinked his hair out of his eyes. softly, stanley brushed the singular hairs out of richie's face. stanley kissed him, and then remembered why he was waking richie up in the first place.
"richie, i was supposed to go home hours ago. fuck." stanley said, exhaling softly. richie grabbed at stanley's hand quickly, mouthing shit at him. it made stanley laugh a little.
stanley really didn't want to leave.
"oh, fuck. i'm so sorry." richie said, one of his hands floating down to stanley's waist. stanley shuffled closer to richie.
"yeah, you should be. how dare you make me fall asleep in your arms? how dare you?" stanley's tone made richie laugh, and he kissed stanley's forehead. stanley smiled too, "it's fine, i don't want to go anyway."
the objective truth was that he was going to be in trouble for not coming home immediately, and who knew what his mother might do. but lying there, watching richie's left dimple appear as he smiled and fixing his glasses that sat askew on his nose, stanley didn't really care.
"oh." richie's tone changed. "stay for dinner."
stanley caught his bottom lip on his teeth, "i want to... but i shouldn't, right?" he gave up on fixing richie's glasses and removed them to the side of the bed, richie blinking several times.
"i mean, you're already late, and what are they really going to do, file a missing persons report?" richie said.
stanley snickered, "pull a sonia kaspbrak." this made richie laugh loudly.
"exactly! so it's fine. stay! i want you to stay." richie barked out, as if he was telling a dog to stay put. stanley obeyed, keeping still in his place in richie's arms.
"you sure your parents won't mind?" he asked, placing the side of his head back down onto richie's chest. richie placed a hand in stanley's hair.
"oh, they're already home, and they know you're here." richie said, watching stanley's eyes widen in concern. richie stroked his hair.
"what? how?" stanley sounded alarmed, and it made richie's heart sink. how many times had he had to undergo his mother's wrath because he didn't do everything right?
"my door's opened a crack. my mom does that to tell me she's checked on me. there's also the tv on downstairs." richie said, his hands playing with stanley's hair. stanley listened intently, and there was in fact the noise of the television.
"oh. well, if you're sure..." stanley trailed off, listening now to richie's heartbeat. he glanced up at richie, god he was pretty. richie looked down at him and smiled.
"of course i am."
-
stanley tried to close the door quietly, but he knew that either way, no good was going to come of what was happening. it was far past sunset, and stanley was sneaking into his own house. he slipped his shoes off, hearing the television on in an adjacent room.
slowly and carefully, stanley tiptoed behind a table and found himself at the stairs to the bedrooms. he placed a foot on the stair, praying to every single god he could fathom that for once in it's stupid life this wood panel would not creak.
no gods helped him out, and stanley froze up as the stair creaked the moment he stepped on it. hearing no change in movement, stanley stepped up two steps, waiting for another sign that the coast was clear.
"your mother isn't home." stanley's dad scared the shit out of him, stanley almost scrambling down the stairs before seeing him at the bottom of it. turns out he had snuck up on stanley, leaving the television on. "i know i haven't been a good dad. and you're up to... something. maybe it's just hanging out with your friends like a normal kid, or maybe it's... i don't know. but as long as you're safe, stan, that's all i care about. will you promise me you're safe?" donald looked like he might be about to cry.
stanley gulped. "i'm safe, dad." he inhaled sharply before looking his dad in the eyes, "i'm with richie most of the time. and he makes me feel the safest i ever have." he wasn't expecting to say that, but it was the truth.
"okay. i do love you, even if i don't show it. i cover for you as much as i can." donald was looking away now, and he motioned for stanley to go up the stairs. for the first time in a long time, stanley considered hugging his dad. instead, he just wandered up the stairs, closing his bedroom door behind him.
the door creaked open as stanley put his head into the hallway. "dad," he caught his father's attention, and donald turned back around to look back up the stairs. the two held eye contact. "what do i do?"
it was a vague question, but it didn't need to be very specific. donald heard what he was asking.
what am i supposed to do now? i barely exist in this house, and it's killing me. but if i get caught doing anything, i might as well be dead. what on earth am i supposed to do?
stanley had never seen his dad look so defeated. if they'd been standing a foot or two apart, he was sure his dad would have reached out for him. but they were on opposite ends of the long staircase, and his dad did not appear to be climbing it.
"move out, stan."
