Archive of Our Own

The music pounding in Stan’s ears was deafening from his spot leaning against the far wall opposite the DJ’s booth. Stan eyed the sticky tables and spilled drinks on the floor with distaste. He could see Eddie out of the corner of his eye on the dance floor, but he was nowhere near drunk enough to be out there himself. Besides, he had no intention of getting that drunk to begin with. He was only here to make sure Eddie didn’t get so wasted he went off with the first asshole who’d buy him a drink.

“Please , Stan,” Eddie had begged earlier that evening when Stan had come home to the apartment he, Eddie, and Bill shared. “I can’t go by myself and Bill won’t come with me.”

Stan had scoffed at that, not bothering to conceal his eye roll.

Of course Bill doesn’t want to go to a club and watch you practically fuck some random guy on the dance floor.

Though the thought didn’t escape his mouth.

“Come on Stan, consider it a night out to celebrate your new job! It’s Saturday, you have a whole day to recover tomorrow!” Eddie needled and wasn’t that rich, Stan wondered.

“Oh yeah,” he replied dryly. “Going out with you to be your DD is exactly how I wanna celebrate me starting my new job on Monday.”

He had every mind to turn Eddie down, tell him that he’s a grown man and can go to a fucking club on his own. But, as he opened his mouth to say so, Bill’s pleading look from behind Eddie made him pause.

Stan knew what that meant.

Take care of him, please.

Stan had vowed to himself that he would never live with a couple. When he moved in with Bill and Eddie he thought he was keeping his own promise. But, these two fucking disasters were every pining romantic trope at once. The fact that they weren’t a couple (yet) almost made it worse.

So here he was, trying not to go deaf and avoiding sticky barstools and the advances of the men lurking around the bar. All because Bill and Eddie couldn’t get their shit together.

He looked down at his gin and tonic which was mostly just ice cubes, a battered lime slice, and backwash at this point, the thought of which made him wince, and he shook his head slightly. He might as well get some water or something. Taking one last glance at Eddie, he made his way over to the bar, narrowly avoiding having drinks spilled down his chest by the stumbling couples in the crowd.

Once he finally arrived at the bar (shirt in tact, thank god), he knew he was in for a long night. He didn’t realize there could even be this many more people in the building after seeing the crowded dance floor, but the bar is practically swarmed with people clamoring over each other in their attempts to get their next drink. There wasn’t a single gap in the squished bodies, and he had no idea how he was going to get the bartender’s attention.

After squeezing between two decidedly sweaty girls, Stan watched as the bartenders flitted from drunk college students to rowdy tech bros, each time passing over his raised hand. All he wanted was a damn water. But then again, that was probably why they were ignoring a decidedly sober customer over those that had wallets that were much more free flowing

He was ready to give up and slink back to his wall when a loud voice boomed behind him.c

“Hey, Bev!”

Stan almost jumped out of his skin when a large hand came to rest on his lower back.

He jerked away as much as he could while being walled in on every side by the thrumming crowd, turning over his shoulder to see a tall, lanky figure that was smiling down at him briefly before looking back up at the bar. When he followed the other man’s gaze, he was astonished to see one of the bartenders, a red headed woman looking to be about Stan’s age, stopping what she was doing to walk right over to them. She was looking at the two expectantly, smiling at the man behind him with a fond familiarity.

“Can I get another round, darlin’?” the man asked, his voice dripping with a god awful Southern accent that had to be fake, and his reaction to it must have been visible because as she nodded she caught his eye with a smirk and laughed.

“And for your friend?” she asked, and her suggestively raised eyebrow was all too much for Stan and he sprung to action, reaching to pull his wallet out of his pocket.

“Oh no, we’re not - I’m not with him-”

“Nonsense! I can’t let a pretty boy like you pay for his own drink!” the stranger cut him off to the amusement of the bartender. Stan opened his mouth to offer a snappy retort, affronted at being called ‘pretty’ by a stranger, but the taller man didn’t give him a chance. “He’ll have a grateful dead, gorgeous! On my tab!”

And before Stan had time to argue, the bartender, Bev apparently, nodded with a knowing smile and walked off to mix the drinks. He pursed his lips in annoyance before rounding on the man behind him.

“Pretty boy?” he asked, crossing his arms and looking up at the… admittedly handsome man that was looming over him, cocking an eyebrow in annoyance. “And thanks, but I can get my own drinks.”

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” the man replied with a wink. “Besides, you looked like you could use some help getting Bev’s attention.”

“I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, thanks,” He snapped. This, this right here was exactly why Stan hated coming to bars with Eddie. Eddie might like the fawning attention of strangers who wanted to get into his pants, playing dudes for free drinks, but Stan would much rather be left alone. He didn’t want the obligation of talking to some stranger who thinks they can get his attention just because they had enough cash to buy him a fucking drink.

“I don’t know, man. You looked like you were gonna fucking die if you didn’t get out of the crowd soon.” The stranger quipped back, and that was not what Stan was expecting. He surprised himself even by snorting in response. That was hardly the kind of pickup line he had been waiting to ignore.

“Well if that’s what you were going for, you’re doing a shit job since we’re still here,” He replied, regaining control of his poker face quickly.

The man surprised him again by letting out a sharp, jovial laugh that didn’t hold even an ounce of annoyance or offence and instead smiled broadly down at him.

“Well our knight in shining armor is fast approaching, so let me rectify the situation.” He replied, nodding over Stan’s shoulder at the bar. When Stan turned his head to look Bev was there winking and handing the drinks over to the man who was leaning into Stan’s space to reach for them. He was surprised for a third time by how little he was bothered by the intrusion.

Once he had their drinks in hand, he made no move to step out of Stan’s space and offered a tall purple drink to Stan who took it hesitantly.

“You know I was just planning on getting water, right?” He asked, but didn’t refuse the drink. “What even is this?”

“Oh, where’s the fun in that?” He teased back, and once the drink had been taken, he let his now free hand fall to rest on Stan’s hip in a manner that somehow remained unobtrusive. He was definitely intriguing. “Besides, you seem like the type for it. A pretty drink for a pretty guy.” He murmured, leaning in closer to speak directly into Stan’s ear so he could still be heard over the raucous crowd as he clinked their plastic cups.

“A pretty drink, huh?” Stan scoffed, pulling back slightly. He wasn’t going to be taken in that easily.

“Mhmm,” The man murmured and took an infuriatingly long pause to take a long sip of his own drink, before lowering the glass to make eye contact with Stan once again. “One that could punch you in the face.” He said with a smirk that was a lot more attractive than it had any right to be.

“Sure,” He replied with an unimpressed eye roll before taking a sip of his own drink. It was sweet and tasted like straight juice. “I could do that too, you know, and it’d be a lot cheaper than however much this drink costs.”

“Oh, would you?” He asked, stepping impossibly closer with a widening grin. “If I ask nicely?”

Stan laughed and instead of replying took another long drink. It really was delicious and if nothing else, at least he got a free drink.

“Oh, slow down, pretty boy,” The stranger said lowly, removing his hand from Stan’s hip and wrapping his own fingers over Stan’s around the cup, pulling it away from his mouth. “You’ll be surprised at what this little baby can do.”

“It’s Stan,” He huffed out, and didn’t miss the delighted way the man’s face lit up at the admission. “Not pretty boy . And like I said, I can handle myself.” He repeated, taking the drink back. Not one to back down from anything he could interpret as a challenge; Stan brought the drink to his lips and drained the glass in one long swig.

He coughed slightly as he pressed it back into the man’s free hand, satisfied at the surprise he could see on his face.

“Thanks for the drink but I’ve gotta find my friend,” He said and offered the man a smirk before he turned away to push through the crowd to look for Eddie.

As Stan walked away from the bar he could feel eyes on his back, and when he dared a glance back over his shoulder before completely losing sight of the bar, there he was still standing where Stan had left him, watching Stan walk away with a stunned smile on his face.

Though, within seconds he realized Stan had caught him staring, and before he could follow him Stan raised an eyebrow in return before continuing towards the dance floor. There was a small tugging in the back of his brain that wanted to go back and get the man’s name, grab a seat, maybe have another drink. It had been so long since Stan had been with anyone, and even longer since he had allowed himself to let his guard down around a stranger enough to make any kind of connection.

But, he had told Bill he would keep an eye on Eddie. Eddie; who had pregamed at the apartment and was well on his way to drunk before they had even arrived at the club. A lecture from Bill was the last thing he needed.

However, it didn’t take long for his own head to start spinning and lurching. The crowd, which had been overwhelming before, suddenly seemed entirely unmanageable. Stan stumbled through the writhing bodies on the dance floor, narrowly escaping the grasps of men he had absolutely no interest in, until he finally laid eyes on his friend who was grinding hard up against a tall guy who looked suspiciously like Bill.

“Eddie!”

His friends eyes flew open in surprise as he approached and the grip the man behind him had on his hips tightened.

“Stan?” Eddie called back, placing a reassuring hand on his dance partner’s. “Is everything okay?”

“I didn’t know where you were!” Stan shouted over the thumping music that was practically vibrating the building. Eddie was looking at him like he had grown three heads and on top of that, the lights were flashing in his eyes and he didn’t like the way the man Eddie was dancing with was eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’ve been right here the whole time, Stan. God, calm down,” Eddie said with an eye roll that had Stan’s blood starting to simmer to a boil. “Go have a drink and chill out.”

“Maybe you need some water, Eddie,” He snapped, but didn’t get a chance to continue.

“Hey man, we’re fine,” The guy gripping tightly onto Eddie’s hips barked at him, and Stan felt himself zeroing in on the possesive way his fingers were pressing into the skin that was revealed by the way Eddie’s shirt was rising up. “I don’t know what your deal is but why don’t you mind your own business--”

“Can you call off your fucking guard dog, Eddie?” Stan said coldly, eyes flicking up to the tall stranger and holding his gaze for a moment before looking back at Eddie who was glaring murderously back at him. He honestly didn’t know what was coming over him. His mouth felt loose, and he felt like he was listening to someone else talking to Eddie, saying the things he always thought but never voiced.

“You’ve been drinking all night, and I get that you clearly have a type or whatever but Bill told me to take care of you so sue me for trying to make sure you don’t wind up dead in a ditch somewhere in the morning!” He continued, Eddie looking more and more like he was going to explode at any second. “And maybe if you two would get your shit together I wouldn’t have to.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Stanley?”

There it was.

Stan watched as the guy Eddie was dancing with whispered something into his ear and glared at Stan before stalking off as Eddie walked right up to Stan, absolutely fuming.

“You are unbelievable , you sound just like my fucking mother!” He snapped, loud enough for Stan to hear him over the pounding music, and Stan all but stumbled backwards at the accusation. He was nothing like Sonia Kaspbrak, he just wanted to make sure Eddie was okay. But Eddie was seething.

“Oh come on, Eddie, I just--”

“No, Stan! You and Bill are both ridiculous. You’re so fucking uptight. Stop being so invested in what I’m doing and just...I don’t know. Go out and suck a dick and loosen the fuck up, you need it. I can take care of myself.”

And with that, Eddie took off in the direction his dance partner had gone, leaving Stan alone in the middle of the dance floor. A vaguely familiar beat that he’s sure he could place if only he could clear out the fuzz in his brain began to play, prompting loud whoops and cheers from the people surrounding him.

Stan wants nothing more than to get out of the club entirely but the crowd around him was thickening and he didn’t see any easy escapes. He felt trapped with all the bodies gyrating around him and all he can do was just stand there frozen. His skin was beginning to crawl and he felt as though he might start itching right out of it. All he had wanted was to find Eddie and make sure he was okay. But now he had no idea where his friend was, and Eddie certainly didn’t want to see him.

Stan knew that Bill was going to kill him if he went home without Eddie. He didn’t know what to do and all he could think is that maybe Eddie was right and that just maybe another one of those drinks might help.

The man at the bar was, if nothing else, right about the fact that it certainly packed a punch.

Just as he began to contemplate how he could make it out of the crowd without going into a full on panic he felt a large hand snaking its way around his waist and heard a familiar voice in his ear as his field of vision was cut off by a tall figure stepping into his space.

“You gotta stop getting caught up in these crowds, pretty boy.” The voice said,followed by a low, gruff chuckle.

He looked up, startled, only to meet eyes with the man from the bar once again, who was now standing deliciously close and he couldn’t help but shiver at the way his breath ghosted over Stan’s earlobe as he laughed.

“It’s--”

“Stan, I know.” He laughed. “I think pretty boy’s got a bit of a ring to it though.” And even though Stan wanted to be annoyed, he couldn’t help but be grateful for the reprieve the man was providing from the crowd, blocking Stan off from it and making him feel even slightly less overwhelmed. “Richie,” He said finally, and when Stan lifted a confused eyebrow continued. “My name. It’s Richie. But if you want to continue calling me ‘Handsome Stranger’ in your head, feel free.” He finished with an entirely over the top wink at which Stan groaned.

“Do you ever take anything seriously?” He asked with a roll of his eyes, but he was smiling when he made eye contact with Richie again.

“I try not to make a habit of it, no.” Richie replied as he stepped in closer to Stan so their chests were touching, his arm now wrapped firmly around Stan’s waist, hand pressing against his lower back once more and pulling him closer.

“I like to go with the flow,” He explained, lips hovering over Stan’s ears once again, voice murmuring so low that if he was any further away Stan wouldn’t be able to hear it at all, and he began moving their hips to the beat of the music as he spoke. “I don’t take myself or anything else too seriously because if I did, how could I help gorgeous guys like you unwind?”

“Are you calling me uptight?” Stan replied sharply, but any bite that he might have included another time went right out the window as he let his arms wrap around Richie’s neck, following Richie’s lead as their hips swayed together.

“I don’t know, Staniel, if the shoe fits…” Richie mused with a smile, laughing at the way Stan wrinkled his nose at the new nickname. “You just seem like the kinda guy who takes everything entirely too seriously. Could do with some loosening up, you know?” he said, whispering the last bit directly into Stan’s ear, causing him to shudder slightly as Richie nipped at his earlobe.

“You sound like Eddie,” Stan sighed, though he still allowed Richie to pull their hips flush against each other, blushing furiously as Richie’s rolled against his own.

“That your friend?” Richie asked, not moving his head from it’s position by Stan’s ear, so every sentence felt husky and overwhelming in the best possible way. Stan nodded in response and Richie hummed in his ear. “Sounds like he knows what he’s talking about,” and when Stan snorted in response, continued. “No? Well let’s see where the night goes, maybe I can change your mind.”

Richie’s presence was surrounding him, making him feel heady and in any other situation, coming from any other person, his words would make Stan run in the other direction. But he didn’t feel like Richie would push him if he actually refused him or walked away. And once again, Richie had him surprising himself, because when he actually thought about it, he didn’t want Richie to leave him alone. He wanted to see where this night would go as much as, if not more, than the other man dad.

So he took a breath, the light feeling in his head giving him a confidence and surety that he didn’t usually have and leaned onto the tips of his toes to speak into Richie’s own ear.

“You can start by letting me finish this,” He murmured, relishing in the way Richie’s hand tightened around his waist as he let his heels fall back to the ground and took the glass out of Richie’s hand, giving a cursory glance at the dark liquid inside it before taking a long swig.

The taste of the coke was cloyingly sweet, in a much less appetizing way than the drink Richie had ordered for him earlier had been and it made his teeth feel almost sticky, but the bite of what had to be whiskey followed soon after and that was what Stan had been looking for. He let Richie watch him as he downed another drink before handing him off an empty glass for the second time that night.

The grin on Richie’s face as he did so was twisting up his insides in the most delicious way and Stan knew he was making the right decision.

‘ Screw Eddie, ’ he thought to himself as Richie’s eyes bore into his own. ‘ He’s on his own tonight. ’ he decided, smiling back at Richie who was leaning in closer until their lips were hardly an inch apart.

Stan closed the distance between them, tasting the liquor on Richie’s tongue. He was going to have fun tonight.

 Someone was using a jackhammer right outside the window. At least that’s what it felt like. That or someone might actually be punching him repeatedly in the face and maybe that’s why his head was pounding and he was afraid to open his eyes.

Aside from the excruciating pain in his skull, what really tipped him off to the situation at hand was the weight that was draped over his waist, curling around his stomach and pulling him snugly against what couldn’t be anything other than a warm, sturdy, chest. It was comforting to the point that it almost distracted him from the pounding in his head, but only for a moment.

He winced as another burst of pain exploded in his head, and all he could think was how much had he had to drink last night , instead of anything to do yet with the man in bed behind him.

He sluggishly lifted an arm to block out the light as he slowly blinked his eyes open. His first clue to his whereabouts was the fact that when he looked down, he was no longer wearing his button up or even his undershirt, but a ratty, threadbare t-shirt that he was positive he had never seen in his life. The second was that the fitted sheet of the bed was pulling off the mattress at the corners in a way that made Stan squirm anxiously, and when he peeked over the side of the bed there was dirty laundry littered on the floor and sheet music strewn across the bedside table and the floor surrounding it.

Thankfully though, sitting atop the sheet music like a paperweight, was a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. He let his head fall back against the pillow and groaned heavily. It was only then that he remembered that he wasn’t alone.

When he turned carefully under the arm wrapped around his middle he didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the man in bed with him. He had dark messy curls that fell across his face an splayed over the pillow beneath him, high cheekbones and large full lips that took Stan’s breath away. The sight of him pulled back some of the night before and he remembered meeting him… Richie… at the club and then fighting with Eddie and then...running into Richie again?

It was after that that things were kind of blurry. How had he ended up here in what could only be Richie’s apartment? How did he get into Richie’s clothes? What had they done last night?

God, he was such a disaster.

He carefully pulled Richie’s arm off his waist and, bracing himself on the edge of the mattress with one hand and clutching his pounding head with the other, pushed himself up to a sitting position. He reached for the bottle of aspirin and after struggling with the child proof cap for an embarrassing moment (thank god Richie was still asleep), shook out a few pills which he downed with a long sip of water.

As he drank the rest of the glass of water, he was hit with a memory of downing Richie’s drink after the fight with Eddie and sighed once more. But the water did help his head a bit and after a while of sitting on the edge of the bed and looking around he dragged himself up to find his phone. The thought of the fight with Eddie just reminded him that he had clearly abandoned Eddie at the club to come here with Richie and his roommates were sure to be pissed at him.

But in Richie’s messy room, finding his own belongings seemed to be quite the task. He found his button up first, hung over the back of Richie’s desk chair but his pants were not as easy to find. They eventually turned up peeking out from under Richie’s bed and sure enough, in the back pocket was his phone.

Which of course, was completely dead.

Of course.

Rubbing out the frustration in his temples, he made his way over to the nightstand on Richie’s side of the bed to see if they might have the same phone charger. At least something seemed to be going his way, because that was the one thing it didn’t take long to find.

After plugging his phone in and seeing the dead battery symbol light up on the screen, he looked back at Richie’s sleeping figure, tangled in the sheets, arm still thrown out to the side as if Stan was still there, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile.

Grabbing the glass once again he walked over to the door and opened it just enough to peek out into the hall in fear of running into any potential roommates Richie might have, but it was thankfully empty. He didn’t even know what time it was. But there weren’t many doors in the hall and hopefully he wouldn’t bust into any other bedrooms in his search for the bathroom.

One of the doors was slightly ajar so he opted for that one first and was unendingly thankful to push it open to find tile floors and a tiny shower cubicle.

A steaming hot shower was exactly what he needed right now, Richie’s water bill be damned, and he thankfully shut himself into the bathroom, locking the door behind him before leaning against it and closing his eyes for a moment.

‘ Okay, ’ He thought to himself. ‘ You’re in a strangers apartment. You don’t know where you are. But he didn’t murder you and you can take a shower and things are going to be okay. ’

The next thought that came was decidedly less hopeful.

‘ You probably have a fucking parking ticket. ’

But, he guessed he couldn’t do anything about that until he knew where he was so he pushed himself off the door to turn on the sink and fill the empty glass of water he had brought with him and downed another glass of tepid tap water.

After locating a tiny closet full of towels and grabbing one off the shelf, he turned the shower nozzle as hot as it would go, leaning against the wall once more. As the tiny room began to fill with steam, he begrudgingly peeled off the t-shirt he had been wearing and slid his fingers down to grip the waistband of his boxer briefs. Thankfully they were his own, and as he bent down to pull them to the ground, the lack of soreness had him relieved to find that he was pretty confident that he and Richie hadn’t had sex last night.

Not that the thought was unappealing he thought to himself with an embarrassed flush as he opened the frosted glass door to step into the shower. But still if he was going to have sex with anyone, he’d like to remember it the next day.

‘ Especially if they’re as gorgeous as Richie, ’ voiced an annoying thought in the back of his head that he shook away with a small smile. The water and the aspirin had helped his head exponentially and the painful pounding had given way to a dull, almost unnoticeable throb. He was surprised to find that he wasn’t nauseous, but rather than think too deeply into it he decided to just be grateful for that fact.

The hot water beating against his back was probably the most beautiful thing he had ever felt and after a few minutes of closing his eyes and letting the water just fall against his hair and down his back, he opened them again to fumble wetly for Richie’s shampoo. He winced at the label which stated “Two-In One Shampoo and Conditioner”. No wonder his curls were so messy.

But it was what he had so stan flicked the cap and poured out a generous dollop onto his open palm which he then massaged into his scalp.

What was he going to say to Richie if he was awake when he got back to the room? What would he say if he wasn’t ? Or if he left the bathroom to find himself face to face with the mysterious roommate that he didn’t even know if Richie had? He didn’t know if he could handle the embarrassment of that last possibility but it would at least be nice to be able to ask someone where the hell he was.

As the possibilities swirled throughout his head, he grabbed the bar of soap off the tray, looking at the dark hairs stuck to it with disgust before carefully picking them off the soap and lathering himself up. Showering could always improve his mood and put his mind at ease no matter what was going on and now was no exception.

Were he and Richie ever going to see each other again? He certainly hoped so, if only so he could have a chance to leave a better impression upon him. He was sure that if he couldn’t even remember the night, he had to have been an Eddie level disaster which was humiliating to say the least.

But eventually the water turned cold and he couldn’t hide in the shower any longer. He turned off the water and carefully stepped out onto the cold tiles of the bathroom. Stan shook his head at the fact that Richie didn’t even have a damn bath mat, but for whatever reason it was almost endearing.

It wasn’t until he had dried himself off and wiped the fog away from the mirror that he saw the hickies littering his neck.

‘ Fuck. ’

What the fuck had he done last night? Wrapping the towel tightly around his hips, he pulled the door open just wide enough to get another glance into the hall which was blessedly empty, and made his way back to the door to Richie’s room that he had left ajar. He was sure Richie would still be asleep and pushed the door open as quietly as possible only to jump at the voice that called out as soon as he stepped over the threshold.

“Oh lordy, I must be dreaming, there’s no way a vision this lovely could possibly be real.” Richie drawled from his spot sprawled across the bed. The blankets had pooled around his waist and a few dark bruises were visible on his neck and bare shoulders. Stan blushed bright pink at the sight and the comment.

“Oh shut up.” He mumbled, clutching the towel tighter as he walked towards the bed, carefully avoiding the piles of dirty clothes on the floor. “What are you doing up? What time is it?”

“Well,” Richie said, putting on a voice that sounded like every gossipy mother Stan had ever met. “It’s eight o’clock, which is much too early to be awake on a Sunday morning but someone is Mr. Popular.” He explained with a shit eating grin covering his face as he held up Stan’s phone and shook it lightly.

“You have about…” He pressed the home button to scroll through the notifications on Stan’s lock screen. “Three texts from a guy named ‘Bill’ and about a million from that Eddie guy you mentioned last night. Your phone wasn’t on silent which is why I’m awake.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Stan mumbled, sure he was about as red as a tomato as he stepped up to the edge of the bed to reach for the phone, which Richie quickly pulled out of his reach.

“Uh uh,” He teased, cocking an eyebrow at Stan expectantly. “I think you owe me a good morning kiss for waking me up so early.” He said, wiggling his brows at Stan and shaking his phone once more.

“Come on.” He plead, sure if he got any more embarrassed he might explode, and climbed onto the mattress to try to get a better chance of snatching his phone back from Richie’s long, extended limbs.

“Don’t tell me sober Stan is shy .” Richie teased, which only drew another humiliated groan from Stan who buried his face in the free hand that wasn’t holding the towel at his waist together.

“God, I almost don’t even want to know what drunk me did last night.” He whined through his fingers. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Oh you were amazing ,” Richie teased. “You’re very handsy, and you’ve got quite the tongue.” He continued, and Stan could hear the smirk in his voice. Richie was clearly loving this. Stan was becoming more and more terrified that they had had sex.

“We had a great time last night and I’m just gonna hold it over your head until you’re begging me to tell you what happened, and then at the last second when you’re just desperate enough, I’ll let you know that we did…” He paused excruciatingly, as Stan looked up from his hands, feeling sick to his stomach from the nerves. “ Not , in fact, have sex.” He finished, smugly and Stan groaned in relief.

“Oh, thank fuck.” He mumbled, finally letting out an anxious laugh as he shoved Richie enough that he lost his balance and fell back on the bed, howling with laughter. “Shut up.” Stan begged as Richie continued laughing.

“God, you should have seen your face , Staniel.” Richie said through his laughter. “No, what kinda guy do you take me for? I wasn’t gonna fuck you when you were that drunk.” he continued, pushing himself back up to a sitting position where they were finally face to face. “No matter how nicely you asked me to.” he murmured teasingly, and Stan thought he might actually cry, he was so embarrassed.

“I didn’t.” he insisted, begged, but the grin on Richie’s face was enough to tell him otherwise. “Oh my god.”

“No, no.” Richie said, voice going impossibly soft, the contrast causing Stan to look back up at him as Richie set the phone down and cupped Stan’s face in between his large palms. “It was really cute.” he said, smiling at Stan with a hint of teasing still in his voice, but Stan couldn’t ignore how genuine he sounded.

He blushed in response, and when Richie reached up to brush a few damp, stray curls out of his face he leaned into the touch. Richie was leaning in closer and Stan could feel his heart beating faster and fast as their lips inched closer and closer. His eyes fluttered closed as Richie’s nose brushed against his own but just before their lips could touch Stan’s phone pinged to life once more, the insistent unopened text messages reminding the two of their presence.

“Shit .” Stan mumbled, pulling away from Richie’s soft hold, and this time Richie didn’t stop him from grabbing his phone.

He had several missed calls from both of his roommates, but there were now four texts from Bill along with the ‘million’ as Richie had mentioned from Eddie and Stan pressed his thumb to the home button to unlock it. He opened the messages app and decided to open Bill’s first. They were likely to make him feel worse but there were only four of them after all.

From: Bill - 11:49 PM: Where did you go? Eddie has called me four times.

From: Bill - 12:01 AM: I’m on my way to come get Eddie. Please call me back.

From: Bill - 12:53 AM: Come on Stan, this isn’t like you. Please just tell me you’re safe and when we can expect you home. Eddie and I are both worried.

From: Bill - 8:11 AM: Stanley, where the fuck are you? If I don’t hear from you soon I’m going to call the police, don’t think I won’t.

He would too. Stan knew not to underestimate Bill when it came to things like this. He wondered if this was something like how Eddie felt last night when Stan had interrupted him and his ‘friend’. He groaned with frustration which only prompted Richie to look over his shoulder.

“Ooh, cops. Kinky .” He teased, pressing an open mouthed kiss to Stan’s neck.

“He’s my roommate,” He explained. “He’s always like this and I get that he’s worried but…”

Instead of finishing his sentence, he just let out another deep sigh before flicking his thumb at the back button to open Eddie’s texts. He didn’t bother stopping to read all of them but the ones that he did had Richie doubling over in laughter.

From: Eddie - 11:15 PM: WHERE THE FUCK ARE U I’M STIL LMAD AT YOU

From: Eddie - 11:36 PM: I KNWO I TOLD U 2 LOOSEN UP BUT I DIBN’T MEAN DISPAPEAR WHERE THE FUCK R U

From: Eddie - 11:54 PM: WHO TF DID U JUST LEAVE WITH

“Oh my god.” He groaned again, scrolling past the next ten texts until he saw the ones that Eddie had presumably sent after Bill had gotten him home safely.

From: Eddie - 1:08 AM: U BETTER HAVE HIS DICK IN UR MOUTH RN IF UR NOT GOIN 2 ANWSER MYC ALLS STANLEY

“You know, that can still be arranged...” Richie said through his stifled laughter, pointing at Eddie’s texts, as Stan finally allowed himself to laugh, falling back against Richie’s shoulder and burying his laughter in the crook of Richie’s neck before the two of them skimmed through the remaining texts. Eddie’s texts grew increasingly inappropriate and incomprehensible, finally ending just before two o’clock in the morning, when he must have fallen asleep.

He quickly shot off a text to Bill letting him know he was fine and that he’d call soon before allowing Richie to drag him back down to the bed where the two of them continued laughing for a few moments longer.

“God, I’m sorry, my roommates are crazy.” Stan finally mumbled through his fading giggles, smiling at Richie who had taken to stroking his curls back once more.

“It’s all good, I like ‘em already.” Richie laughed. “I wasn’t kidding though you know, we wouldn’t want to let Eddie down. He seemed pretty adamant that you blow me.” He said seriously and smothered Stan’s answering eye roll with a deep kiss that caught Stan by surprise. His hands slid down from Stan’s curls to grip his face once more as he teased his lips apart with his tongue that swiped over his lower lip and then delved into Stan’s mouth.

When Stan pulled away for a breath Richie moved to whisper in Stan’s ear sending a now familiar shiver down his spine.

“You know, I distinctly remember promising you I’d show you a good time in the morning.” He whispered, devilish smile evident against Stan’s skin. “It was the only way you’d let me put a shirt on you and get you to bed.”

“Embarrassing me isn’t exactly making a good case for sex.” Stan practically whined, but god, when Richie’s teeth nipped at his earlobe again and started biting down his neck, he was finding it harder and harder to say no, and in fact, gripped his curls even tighter in his fists.

“What about this? Does this make a good case for sex?” Richie replied, giving Stan a cheeky grin before dragging his teeth lightly up Stan’s jaw and pulled a shuddering gasp from his lips. He drew Stan’s bottom lip back between his own, biting at it softly as he ran his hand down Stan’s throat, brushing his fingers lightly over one of Stan’s nipples. His fingers purposefully dragged lightly over his abdomen in a way that had Stan on the verge of shaking by the time they made it to the hand that Stan was still gripping his towel with, when he suddenly stopped.

“Can I?” He asked, mumbling softly against Stan’s lips, and Stan, having completely lost his faith in himself to string an intelligent sentence together simply nodded, breathing heavily and letting go of the towel.

Richie’s fingers rubbed gently across Stan’s stomach before gripping the soft terry cloth and pulling the damp towel away. Stan was exposed, the cool air of the room hitting his thighs as Richie let out an awestruck sigh.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He said, voice low and reverent. He took in the smooth expanse of Stan’s chest, stomach and legs. Stan flushed pink at the praise, fidgeting under the intense gaze. Unable to take the stare any longer, Stan tugged Richie’s face back to his own by his grip in the taller boy’s dark hair.

For his part, Richie didn’t complain and went back to kissing Stan, enthusiastic hands massaging at Stan’s thighs. When his fingers dipped between his legs and brushed against his inner thighs Stan whimpered into Richie’s mouth, and buried his fingers deeper in his dark hair. Stan’s cock was hardening and his hips lifted to strain closer, itching for some friction. Richie pushed him back down, hand sliding up to rest at the juncture where Stan’s leg met his hip and held fast.

“Patience, baby.” He murmured at Stan’s desperate whine. “You’re so fucking pretty, holy shit,” He breathed. “So pretty laid out here for me.”

“Richie, please .” Stan gasped, squirming against his grip and reaching for the waistband of Richie’s own boxers as he saw his gaze raking over Stan’s body once more.

“Please, what?” Richie nipped at his throat, swatting Stan’s hands away and running his own hand from Stan’s hip and along his ribs before teasing his fingers up and down the sensitive skin there until Stan was shaking under his fingertips.

“Please-” Stan gasped but cut himself off with a keening whine when Richie’s hand slid firmly back down his chest and grazed over the tip of his dick before palming it in his large hand. He could see the tent in Richie’s boxers and he wanted everything . He wanted Richie to stop teasing him, he wanted to touch Richie, he wanted it all and he flushed red at the thought of having to give a voice to his wants.

“Wanna…”

“Hm?” Richie nudged Stan’s head to the side, and began pressing wet kisses to his neck, pausing on each bruise that was left from the previous night to bite down lightly again and again. His thumb was rubbing torturously slow circles against his crown and -

“Wanna touch you.” Stan finally gasped out and Richie rewarded him by gripping him in a loose fist and pumping his length slowly.

“Oh, well I can’t say no to that , now can I?” Richie muttered softly, twisting his fist as he dragged it back up Stan’s cock before letting go. Stan’s hands met Richie’s at his waistband and didn’t waste any time in shoving the boxers down his hips.

His eyes widened at the sight of Richie breaking free from the waistband as it was pulled down and bounced to attention. He was thick and hard and Stan had to stop himself from staring before he prompted another smartass comment from the man who was kneeling between his legs. Propping himself up on one hand, he reached forward, eager fingers grasping around Richie’s shaft and pumping him slowly.

“God.” Richie panted as he leaned in to capture Stan’s lips once more, moaning into Stan’s mouth as they kissed.

Stans hand faltered for a moment as Richie’s hand came back to wrap itself around him in return, shuddering at the feeling but Richie didn’t seem to mind. He wrapped his other arm around Stan’s back, lowering him back down to the bed and following him quickly until their cocks were rubbing against each other and Richie took them both in his large palm. His long fingers held them together as he dragged them up and down, lips moving to kiss Stan’s neck as his head fell back against the pillow once more.

“Can you stay still for me for a hot second, Stan?” Richie breathed into his ear, pulling his hand away, and despite the long indignant sound he made at the lack of contact, Stan nodded. “Good.” He continued, voice still low and husky and when Stan opened his eyes, Richie was sitting back on his heels looking him over once more. Stan blushed, embarrassed at the heated, awestruck look on the other man’s face.

“Get a move on.” He tried to snap, but it came out as more of desperate whine that had him flushing even redder as Richie smiled wickedly back at him.

“Impatient, huh?” Richie winked, but leaned over to reach for the dresser. “You know,” He continued conversationally as if they were just talking about the weather, “I feel like we already talked about patience.”

Stan threw his head back in frustration as Richie busied himself with the contents of the drawer. There was no way it was really taking him this long to find what Stan could only assume would be lube and condoms, he was just doing this to be an asshole.

“It’s Sunday morning, babe, we’ve got all the time in the world.” Richie said and Stan could hear the smirk in his voice. “Nowhere at all to be… could spend all day taking you apart.”

Stan bit back a groan at the idea. Instead of replying he moved his hand to take ahold of himself while he waited but Richie, seeing him in the periphery was quick to put a stop to it.

“Uh uh,” He scolded, turning his head just far enough to the list to look at Stan with a raised eyebrow, and reached out to pull Stan’s hand away from his own throbbing dick. “You said you’d stay still for me - that doesn’t look like staying still, does it?” He teased.

Thankfully, he didn’t make Stan answer him, not this time at least, and he finally drew his hands out of the drawer, holding a small clear plastic bottle and a few foil wrapped condoms. He placed the former on top of the nightstand, and shook the latter playfully in Stan’s eye line with a wink before settling back down on the mattress between his legs, and nudged his knees further apart.

The next thing he knew, Richie was kissing him again, hands on his chest, his stomach, sliding down his hips and thighs until one came to rest on his hip. The firm palm held him down to the mattress and he shivered at the sound of the lube being flicked open out of his line of vision.  Two fingers wandered back up his inner thigh until a cool, wet finger trailed between Stan’s cheeks causing him to shiver at the feeling as it found his entrance. He could feel his hole practically fluttering in anticipation as Richie’s fingers circled it lightly.

Richie spent a long moment just massaging the ring of muscle with one wet finger and then two until it began to relax just enough. He swallowed the soft shriek that escaped Stan’s lips as he pressed in just down to the first knuckle, stopping for a moment to wiggle it around before pressing in even further.

Stan gasped in a deep breath as Richie pushed his finger in to the knuckle and his fingers flew up to grab purchase in his dark curls, fingers gripping fistfuls of hair at the root as Richie drew his finger in and out, eventually teasing a second finger inside and stretching him open from the inside, alternating between pushing in and scissoring his fingers back and forth slow, almost lazy in his ministrations.

As he began to relax into the feeling Stan grew more restless, tugging on Richie’s hair between gasps for more, but Richie was being an infuriating tease, touching him right in that spot where he wanted him but never staying for long, kisses lingering on his chest, neck, and shoulders as Richie continued mercilessly opening him.

He watched, propping himself up on shaking elbows, as Richie uncapped the lube once again and squeezed a bit more onto his remaining fingers before pressing a third in alongside the first two, but he needed more. He needed Richie to go harder, faster, just something more instead of just continuing to torture him with the slow, steady drag of his fingers.

“Please,” He gasped out, collapsing back against the mattress as Richie slowly brushed a fingertip over his prostate again, looking up at Stan, his dark eyes mischievous as he pulled his fingers almost all the way out immediately after.

He had officially had enough and in another attempt to take matters into his own hands, or rather, hips in this instance, pushed back, fucking himself on Richie’s fingers for one glorious moment before Richie’s strong free hand held him back down in place.

“That what you want, Stan?”

He was crowding over Stan now, still between his legs but leaning over Stan’s chest and breathing hot in his ear. If Stan didn’t know better it might sound sweet, but his fingers had slowly pulled out, leaving Stan feeling desperate and empty as he whined in response.

When Richie’s fingers didn’t return for a moment, Stan propped himself up on his elbows indignantly, only to see Richie sliding down the mattress between his legs until he was flat on his stomach. He didn’t have to ask what Richie was doing because moments later, Richie’s broad hands were sliding under his hips to lift him off the mattress and slid a pillow underneath him before looking up at Stan with a wink and moving his fingers to spread Stan’s cheeks apart.

Moments later, Richie’s tongue was licking a firm stripe across his hole, eliciting a sharp yelp from Stan, who immediately brought his fingers back to rest in Richie’s hair, yanking him closer. The appreciative noise he received in response was encouraging enough and when he tugged slightly in response Richie groaned and all but dove in, circling Stan’s entrance with the tip of his tongue before delving in.

Richie’s nose pressed into Stan’s perineum, adding another level of pleasure as he licked his way inside, sliding in and out, filling him in a way his fingers hadn’t been able to, but was still not what Stan wanted. His legs were shaking from their position, knees curled above his stomach and ankles flung carelessly over Richie’s shoulders, and the only thing grounding him was his fingers in Richie’s hair.

Richie didn’t seem to mind the pulling though, he seemed to love it actually and Stan thrilled in the satisfaction of having that one way to regain some control, as every time he gave Richie’s hair a sharp tug, Richie would groan against him and lick in deeper, harder. It didn’t take Richie long however to wise up to Stan’s game and after a particularly hard tug, one of Richie’s hands moved to grab hold of Stan’s own, pulling it down to the mattress and holding it there.

“You gotta be patient,” He repeated with that same infuriating smile, after pulling his tongue out of Stan’s hole, and then blew a teasing burst of cool air on it, causing Stan to cry out.

“G-God damn it, Richie.”

But he wasn’t kept waiting for long as Richie let go of his hand and after the familiar noise of the lube cap rang out over the sounds of Stan’s heaving breaths in the otherwise quiet room, he felt Richie’s fingers teasing at his entrance once again.

His tongue pushed its way back inside as one and then two fingers joined it, and Stan’s back arched against the mattress in response.

“Fuck, fuck, please !”

He was quickly losing control of his words as Richie’s fingers curled inside him, filling him alongside his tongue and his words bottomed out to a strangled sob. He could feel sweat forming on his initially clean skin but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he practically writhed on Richie’s tongue and fingers.

He could feel the pressure building and it was taking everything he had not to just take ahold of himself and relieve it. His self control was waning though, and when Richie curled his tongue just so Stan had to grip the base of his cock tightly to stop himself from coming. When he looked down at it, there was a pearl of pre-cum beading at the tip that he didn’t dare touch for fear of pushing himself right over the edge.

Richie seemed to get the hint though and, looking up at him from between his legs, dragged his tongue out ever so slowly across his perineum and over Stan’s balls before mercifully lifting his head away, and his fingers teasing at the rim of Stan’s entrance.

Stan released a long exhale, letting go of his dick, and just as he did so, Richie’s tongue drew a thick, firm line up the underside of his cock, causing Stan to jolt with the sensation as he twitched under Richie’s tongue that was swirling around the head to lap at the wetness leaking out of it, and caused Richie to let out a peal of laughter as he pulled his mouth off of Stan’s dick.

Stan tried to glare down at him but it didn’t last long as Richie surged up over him to practically tackle him against the bed with kisses all along his throat and jaw that Stan would normally refuse considering where his mouth had just been, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. He laughed into Richie’s mouth as the other man massaged at his inner thighs and then kissed down to his chest.

He shuddered slightly at the way Richie’s teeth dragged over his skin, biting softly at his nipples and sending shivers down his sides, but it was a delicious feeling that was made even better as Richie nipped harshly at the already bruised skin on Stan’s collarbone.

Stan could feel Richie’s hard cock rubbing against his thighs and sliding up as Richie moved to rub against his own and that was enough for him.

He snaked his own hand down between their chests to find its way between Richie’s legs and grip him in his own long, pianist fingers. Richie’s head feel into the crook of his neck, panting heavily as Stan pumped him slow and steady.

“I want you inside me.”

His voice broke slightly in his desperation, ruining the demanding tone he was hoping for, but Richie didn’t seem to care. Quite the opposite actually, Stan realized as Richie released a long groan into his neck.

“Fuck. ” He bit into Stan’s shoulder again as he said it, thrusting his hips into Stan’s hand. “You’re so fucking perfect, Stan, holy shit. Fuck me ,” he groaned.

“Other way around, I think.” Stan teased, relieved to have the upper hand for at least a moment, even though he didn’t really want it for long.

“God damn, Stan. If you’re still being a sassy little brat then I clearly didn’t work you over enough.”

He slowly dragged himself off of Stan, smacking his hip lightly as he spoke and pulled away to take one of the condoms off of the nightstand. Stan watched from his position on the mattress as Richie leaned back on his heels to rip open the gold foil before discarding it and taking his own cock in his broad palm.

He took himself into his own hand as he watched, wrapping his fingers loosely around his shaft and moving them lazily, eyes zeroed in on the way Richie’s hair fell over his eyes and the way he bit his lip as he slowly, slowly , dragged the condom down, pinching the tip of the latex.

As Richie looked up from his dick to lay his eyes on Stan once more, Stan flushed, imagining the picture he must paint right now, sweaty and pink all over, fingers around his cock and his hole stretched open for Richie. In a moment of boldness, he spread his legs open wider and his heart hammered even faster against his chest as he saw Richie take in a deep, sharp breath, before letting out a long, low whistle.

“What a view, Staniel, shit .”

Stan rolled his eyes as Richie took a moment to take him in before leaning forward once more, tapping Stan’s hips again but this time to get him to roll over which Stan did quickly. As he settled on his stomach he could feel the mattress move underneath him while Richie got into place between his legs once more and Stan shivered as his palms landed on the backs of his thighs and slid upwards, coming to a stop as Richie squeezed his ass for a moment before smacking it lightly.

Stan squirmed at the sensation, embarrassed by how much he liked it but before he could do or say anything else, another lubed finger was toying at his hole and he whined at the feeling.

“Come - come on, I’m ready!”

“Just making sure you’re still nice and open for me, babe.” Richie whispered in his ear as he rubbed his other hand, firm and calming, down Stan’s spine. The finger that was rubbing at his entrance delved in deeper, meeting no resistance and Stan pushed back, wanting more. Needing more.

“Hurry up!” he complained. “Are you gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

“Oh you wouldn’t do that,” Richie murmured, his voice teasing as he pulled his finger out and gripped Stan’s hips to pull him up to his knees. “You want me too bad, don’t you pretty boy?”

Stan wanted to snap back at Richie that he shouldn’t be so cocky but he didn’t have time to get the words out because all at once Richie was pushing deep inside him in one long, slow thrust and Stan’s words were knocked right out of him.

He could feel his hole twitching around Richie’s cock that was finally filling him up and god, it had been so fucking long since he had had this. Richie stopped after bottoming out, one of his hands sliding back up Stan’s spine in a soothing motion, but that was the last thing Stan wanted right now.

He leaned forward on his elbows before pushing back hard, a bit harder than he’d meant to, and let out a sharp cry as his arms shook. Richie’s hand stilled on Stan’s back.

“You okay, babe?”

Stan nodded quickly as he took a deep breath, not sure he could trust his voice to let any words out right off. He could tell Richie was concerned but he needed Richie to stop being so fucking gentle, stop being such a fucking tease .

“Move .”

He gasped the word out as he fisted his hands in the sheets beneath him, and thankfully Richie didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds Richie was pulling almost all the way out until just the tip of his cock was still inside Stan before thrusting back inside, and picking up a steady rhythm that had Stan shaking, upper body collapsed on the bed and his face pressed into the sheets beneath him.

“God you look so fucking good right now, Stan, so fucking beautiful.”

Richie was panting behind him and the praise was doing things to his insides, twisting them up in the most pleasurable way and he let out a choked moan in response as Richie gave another particularly hard thrust that had his hips smacking flush against Stan’s ass.

“Pl-please…” he gasped out, wanting that full feeling again and again, wanting Richie to keep going deeper inside of him. “ Fuck , please Richie.”

“Please what, Stan?” Richie prompted, slowing his hips to the point where Stan was sure Richie knew exactly what he wanted and was just not going to give it to him.

Richie’s thrusts had become slow and shallow, barely doing anything for him at all and he needed more so badly he thought he might cry. He desperately ground his hips backward, fucking himself on Richie’s cock, but he didn’t have the right angle. He still couldn’t quite get himself there and a strangled whine ripped itself out of his throat.

“Use your words, Stan.” Richie teased softly, and if Stan wasn’t so desperate for Richie to just fuck him the way he wanted, he might try to kill him. “Tell me what you want.”

He punctuated his sentences with more shallow thrusts that went just shy of where he needed him and Stan could feel tears of frustration and need welling up in his eyes with each one. Not wanting to have to voice his desires, he made one last attempt to get Richie where he wanted him. He ground back on Richie’s dick once more, but Richie’s hands were quick to stop the motion and Stan all but collapsed back on the bed with a frustrated sob.

“Fucking...move!” he cried, not sure how much longer he could take the teasing. “I need you harder, I want…”

“What do you want?” Richie asked again as Stan’s voice broke off in embarrassment once again.

“I want you to make me feel it.”

For a moment as Richie stilled, Stan was worried he had said something wrong. Said too much. Had asked for too much, but couldn’t see the way Richie’s eyes darkened with lust behind him moments later as Stan’s request hit him.

“You wanna feel it, huh?”

Stan nodded weakly as Richie rubbed his palm in soothing circles on Stan’s back for a moment before slowly trailing it back down to grip Stan’s hip.

“God, I’m gonna make you feel everything , babe.” Richie murmured, before he drew his hips back once more before snapping back into Stan, hard and fast, pushing Stan further into the mattress with each thrust.

The only thing keeping his shaking knees steady on the bed at this point was Richie’s hold on his hips and Stan was grateful for it. His limbs felt like jelly and all he could think about was how full he felt on Richie’s cock, the way his own dick was being pushed into the pillow Richie had propped his hips up on earlier with each hard thrust.

A steady stream of gasps and sobs from Stan punctuated each one of Richie’s movements and he looked down at the disheveled man underneath him in aw.

“You look so fucking good right now, Stan.” Richie panted, pushing hard into him with every word and reveling in every noise that he was able to pull out of Stan. “So fucking good on my cock, holy shit.”

Stan didn’t think he had ever felt this good but it still wasn’t quite enough . He had tears streaming down his face at this point and he was so, so close. Even with each shove of Richie’s hips driving his dick harder against his prostate bringing him to tears - it wasn’t enough. He needed something to push him over the edge.

The heat was pooling in his stomach, tying it up in knots, but without knowing what he needed to get there, he didn’t know how to ask for it.

Richie, seeming to read his mind once more, leaned forward to press a kiss to his shoulder blade before bringing his mouth to Stan’s ear.

“It’s okay, you can touch yourself.”

Those words were like a levee breaking as Stan scrambled to get a hand between his hips and the pillow beneath them, gripping himself tightly and pumping himself in time with Richie’s hips, twice, three times.

“You’re doing so good, Stan. So good.” Richie whispered into his ear, kissing his neck. “Can you come for me?”

With one last cry, Stan was cumming right onto Richie’s pillowcase, which he almost felt bad about, but he was too spent at this point to care. He could feel himself tightening around Richie’s dick through the aftershocks of his orgasm, legs twitching and overstimulated sobs slowing to whimpers as Richie continued fucking into him. Richie sped up his pace to shallow, rapid thrusts until he was cumming himself, crying out Stan’s name as he rode out his own orgasm.

As Richie released his vice grip on Stan’s hips, he collapsed into the damp pillow. But, when Richie’s warm weight fell down alongside him and curled around his side he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“You were so fucking perfect.” Richie whispered in his ear, squeezing his hip gently and rubbing soft circles into it with his thumb as Stan hummed in response.

They laid there for a few more minutes, and with the weight of Richie’s arms around him combined with the exhaustion he felt from the morning’s activities, he could feel the warm veil of drowsiness starting to overtake him. He would have been content to stay in bed with Richie all day at that point but just before he was able to fully give in to his body’s need for rest, the shrill sound of his ringtone blared out through the room once more.

“Fuck.” Richie groaned, pulling Stan in closer. “Don’t answer it.” He mumbled, his voice sleepy and almost sweet, pulling a smile to his face.

“Not gonna answer it.” He replied, sighing heavily to himself as he extracted himself from Richie’s grip to sluggishly reach out for his cellphone, looking at the screen to see exactly what he expected - a call from Bill.

He silenced the call and laid back down on the bed eyes wide open, the sudden interruption bringing him back to the waking world.

“I do have to go home though.” He murmured softly, turning to face Richie once more, leaning his head forward to kiss him slowly.

Richie groaned, shaking his head and wrapping Stan back up in an octopus-like grip.

“Stay.”

“I can’t.” Stan sighed. He wished he could. “I promised Bill I would come home this afternoon.”

“Screw Bill.”

“I don’t know, I think Eddie would be pretty upset if I did.” Stan said with a laugh. “I can stay a little longer though. I do need to take another shower now, you know.” The laugh growing at the way Richie perked up at that.

“Think you need some help in the shower?” He asked, eyes twinkling with mischief once again.

“Yeah, I think I might.” Stan said softly, his words swallowed by Richie’s lips as he leaned in to capture Stan’s lips in a kiss once more.

 When Stan walked up to the radio station the following morning, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. His morning with Richie the previous day had definitely helped him relax, but with the new day, the nerves had come back full force.

Richie had texted him the previous night, which had pleasantly surprised Stan. He hadn’t really expected that Richie would want more than just one night...or morning really, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about it. He liked Richie a lot more than he ever expected he would and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. He had been single for so long that he had stopped even looking for companionship from anyone but his two best friends, focusing more on his career.

And now in the course of a weekend, he had met someone that he could actually see himself wanting to be with, had sex with him within twenty-four hours of meeting him which was entirely out of character for him, and was about to walk through the doors of his new job.

He smiled down at the good morning text Richie had sent him earlier that morning one more time before silencing his phone and tucking it away before pushing the doors open.

He wasn’t going to question it. Not now at least.

The receptionist greeted him when he came up to the front desk and checked him in, providing him with some paperwork before leading him through the winding hallways. They stopped into a few offices along the way for Stan to complete his tax paperwork before Stan was finally introduced to his boss.

She was a kind, but professional woman named Patricia who smiled and shook his hand and instructed him to call her Patty.

She took over the tour from there, leading him around the many studios before finally coming to stop outside one that had a bright neon sign in the window that read On Air!

“One of our most popular shows is on air this morning, you’ll be working regularly with the DJs so let’s go in and I’ll introduce you!” she said with a smile, and Stan nodded nervously before following her in.

There was a man and a woman inside facing away from them, but Patty was whispering in his ear, explaining how quickly the show had gained its popularity that he hadn’t really paid much attention to the two of them, the woman’s voice background noise as the man queued up a few tracks.

It wasn’t until the man began to speak that Stan’s blood ran cold.

“Alright, alright folks, we’ve got more Nineties at Nine comin in hot ! Trashmouth and The Flame will be back at you in about fifteen minutes!”

He knew that voice. But he knew that voice in a much different context. He knew that voice flirting with him at a bar and whispering in his ear while he took Stan apart on his fingers, and laughing in the shower as he washed Stan’s hair for him.

He didn’t have nearly enough time to compose himself before Richie and the woman beside him had whirled around in their rolling chairs to greet them and Stan was almost positive he hadn’t yet managed to stop his jaw from practically hanging open.

“Hey Patty, ol’ pal, what’s good?” Richie asked jovially as he turned his seat and Stan watched as his own eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him.

While Patty didn’t seem to notice and led Stan right over to the two of them, the woman Richie was hosting with definitely did. She was giving Richie a gleeful look that had Stan’s nerves shooting through the roof.

“Richie, Beverly, I’d like to introduce you to our new Assistant Station Manager, Stanley Uris.” She said cheerily, and Stan raised a hand to wave weakly as a raised eyebrow was added to Richie’s shocked expression. “Stan, this is Richie Tozier and Beverly Marsh, AKA the hosts of Trashmouth and The Flame.”

Richie was quickly recovering himself and when Stan looked over at Beverly, a mischievous grin was spreading across her face that reminded him of Richie.

“Nice to meet you Stanley Uris.” Beverly said, reaching out a hand for Stan to shake which he took.

“Uh, just Stan is fine,” he replied, the fingers in his other hand twitching by his side and his heart hammering in his chest.

“Yeah. Nice to meet you Stan.” Richie said with a grin that had Stan’s insides twisting up all over again.

“Well I’ve got a meeting to get to,” Patty announced, turning to Stan and smiling at him with the same kind smile she had been giving him all morning. “But why don’t you chat with Richie and Beverly, introduce yourself, and you remember where your office is, right?”

Stan nodded stiffly, hoping she wouldn’t notice, and thanked her, turning to Richie and Beverly as she closed the door behind her.

The room was silent for a long moment, with Beverly staring back and forth between the two of them before clearing her throat.

“I think I’m going to grab some coffee before the music ends, hm?” She offered, and moved to stand but Stan was quick to usher her back down.

“No, no, you don’t have to go! It’s very nice to meet you, Beverly!” He sputtered out, tripping over the words that were spilling out faster than he could catch up with.

“No, really, I’ll be back in ten minutes.” She continued, before fixing Richie with a stare that clearly said she was expecting answers later. “Ten minutes.” She repeated, and as she walked out the door, Stan felt like he was going to combust from embarrassment.

“So,” Richie drawled, a smirk playing across his face as he looked up at Stan from his chair. “You’re one of my bosses now, huh?”

Stan couldn’t believe how cavalier he was being about this. How was he still smiling so casually? Stan was ready to go into a complete panic himself.

“Looks like.” He mumbled in return, his face practically burning.

“That’s hot.” Richie replied, and Stan almost choked as he did. He couldn’t tell if Richie was joking or not, and what’s worse was that he couldn’t tell if he wanted Richie to be joking or not.

“That’s inappropriate.” He stammered, watching as Richie’s grin only grew.

“I can think of a lot of inappropriate things to do in ten minutes. You know. If you’re interested.”

Stan shivered, the look on Richie’s face lascivious and familiar. He could practically feel the ghosts of Richie’s hands on him from the previous morning, and now here he was, right in front of him and looking at him exactly the same way he had then.

Richie Tozier was going to kill him.