Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12861783.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      IT_(2017)
  Relationship:
      Richie_Tozier/Stanley_Uris
  Character:
      Richie_Tozier, Stanley_Uris, Eddie_Kaspbrak, Bill_Denbrough, Ben_Hanscom,
      Mike_Hanlon
  Additional Tags:
      Fluff, Smut, Fluff_and_Smut, a_little_bit_of_angst, like_a_tiny_bit, Mild
      Homophobic_Language, also_they're_16_so_they're_only_underage_in_some
      places, But_I_tagged_it_anyway, eddie_isn't_a_homophobe_he's_just
      ignorant, vague_mentions_of_adhd, vague_mentions_of_ocd, First_Kiss, Loss
      of_Virginity, Boys_Kissing, Boys_In_Love
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-29 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 5859
****** Stanley Uris Definitely Hates Richard Tozier ******
by Lisabet
Summary
     Stanley Uris hated Richard Tozier. He was rude, crass, loud, and
     obnoxious, and those were on his good days.
     Despite all of this, Stanley and Richie were best friends.
     But he definitely still hated Richie! For sure. Even though they had
     protected each other while facing down a killer clown, and Richie had
     been the only one to show up to Stanley’s Bar Mitzvah. Yeah, no, they
     definitely still hated each other.
     They were 14 years old, and Stanley Uris was in love with Richard
     ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Un *****
Stanley Uris hated Richard Tozier. He was rude, crass, loud, and obnoxious, and
those were on his good days. Stanley couldn’t exactly blame Richie for the
amount of energy he had pent up any more than he could blame himself for
straightening the shoes that sat by the front door at other people’s houses, or
for counting every step he walked down. But it never stopped him in any
situation. Richie just couldn’t help himself the same way Stanley couldn’t, but
that didn’t stop Stanley from finding both opposite sides of the spectrum
annoying as hell.
Despite all of this, Stanley and Richie were best friends. For a long time,
Stanley told himself that they were only friends by association, because Bill
and Eddie were friends with both of them. But that hadn’t been true in a long
time, if it had ever been true at any point. Stanley wasn’t so sure of himself
anymore.
But he definitely still hated Richie! For sure. Even though they had protected
each other while facing down a killer clown, and Richie had been the only one
to show up to Stanley’s Bar Mitzvah. Yeah, no, they definitely still hated each
other.
Sometimes though, Stanley would look at Richie and think about how much he had
changed in the past year. He was just as loud and obnoxious, but he had his
quiet, pensive moments. And physically, he’d changed even more noticeably; he
seemed to have grown into his teeth and ears and face. He was tall and slim, in
an awkward, yet still attractive way. His face lost its baby fat, his
cheekbones protruding and drawing attention to himself. His hair was unruly and
long, but looked purposefully so. Richie would deny spending any time on it
though. His thick-framed glasses had been replaced by something a bit more
innocuous; more subtle, despite the thickness of his lenses. His mouth, when it
wasn’t in constant motion, was gorgeous. His lips were pink and lush and
kissable.
They were 14 years old, and Stanley Uris was in love with Richard ‘Trashmouth’
Tozier.
**
“Stan the Man! What’s shaking?” Richie asked, walking into school on the first
day of their last year of middle school. His face had a smudge of either dirt
or chocolate, and his t-shirt was torn on the sleeve.
Stanley had been at school for 40 minutes already. He just rolled his eyes at
Richie’s lack of punctuality. “I don’t know how to respond to that, Richie.”
“I’m just asking how you’re doing, what you’re up to, that kind of thing. Wake
up to the new decade’s slang!” He slung his arm over Stanley’s shoulders.
Stanley pulled a wet wipe from his backpack and began wiping the dirt/chocolate
from his face.
“Honestly Trashmouth, I have no idea how you manage to make a mess of yourself
so early in the morning.”
He looked up to hear Richie’s response and found that they were much closer
than Stanley realized. And Richie was already looking at Stanley’s face.
“Stan, I don’t know what to tell you,” he said, slowly, not looking away from
Stanley’s eyes, his face serious. And then the look melted away and he was
grinning from ear to ear. “It’s a talent.”
Bill found them then, slapping Richie’s shoulder good-naturedly and waving at
Stanley.
“I have an idea,” he said.
“Did it hurt?” Richie asked.
Bill continued like he hadn’t heard Richie. “Carla Sardanos is having a ‘New
School Year’ party on Friday. We should go.”
“That’s a fucking fantastic idea, Big Bill!” Richie exclaimed.
Stanley shook his head profusely. “I’m not going to go to some random girl’s
house full of stupid, drunk people, just so Trashmouth can get trashed and
throw up on me.”
“Stan the Man! You’re the one who needs to loosen up the most! You need this
more than anyone!” Richie said.
“Definitely not. I don’t drink.”
“You haven’t y-yet, b-but that doesn’t mean you sh-shou-shouldn’t,” Bill
interjected.
“Bill! Not you to!”
“Stan, if it makes you feel better, Mike will come and he and I can stay
totally sober. Look after the rest of you.” Richie looked entirely sincere, but
Stanley didn’t know if he could trust that.
“You, Trashmouth Tozier, are going to go to a party and not drink?”
“Yes! I’ll do it just for you, Stan.”
“Thanks,” Bill said sarcastically. “I feel lov-loved.”
“Sorry, Big Bill, I know you need the loving since Bev left, and you’ve got no
one to get your rocks off with, but Stanley here needs it more! Ooh, maybe we
can find a nice girl to suck his uncircumcised cock for him!”
“Richie! What the-” Stanley cut himself off before he swore, his cheeks heating
up. He definitely didn’t want to listen to Richie talk about his penis.
“What?” Richie asked defensibly. “There’s nothing wrong with being uncut! In
fact, I’ll do it myself just to compare. Gotta see if his dick is as pretty as
his face.”
“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie said, walking up behind Bill.
“That’s p-pretty fucking gay, Rich.”
“Yeah, even for you,” Eddie added.
Stanley didn’t say anything. He could feel the blush going all the way down his
neck. The bell for first period rang, and the party/blow job conversation was
postponed. In the end, the Losers decided to go to the party. Even Stanley was
convinced to go, after Mike and Ben both said they’d go and keep Richie sober.
They also decided that going back to Richie’s house after would be best, as
Bill and Ben’s parents would get upset about the drinking, and definitely tell
Stanley’s parents. Mike’s farm was just too far away, Richie’s was much closer.
Stanley had never been inside of Richie’s house before.
If the outside was anything to go off of, it would be unkempt and messy on the
inside. If Richie was anything to go by, it would be a total disaster.
**
True to his word, Richie didn’t drink. Stanley did. A lot. He was very drunk.
His face was flushed and warm, and his head felt fuzzy. He just wanted to tell
Richie that his freckles looked really nice against his pale skin. And he did
so, many times.
After the fifth time, Richie just laughed.
“Don’t laugh, Richard! You need to know!” Stanley complained.
“Thanks, Stan the Man. I’ll keep it in mind,” Richie said, smiling and putting
his arm around Stanley’s shoulders. Stanley leaned into his chest.
“You’re just really pretty, Richie,” he mumbled.
“I think it’s about time we headed home.”
“No!” He whined.
“We’re just gonna go back to my house!”
Stanley nodded, and they rounded up the rest of the Losers.
Eddie rode on the back of Ben’s bike, Bill on the back of Mike’s, and Stanley
on the back of Richie’s. His arms were holding tightly around Richie’s
surprisingly toned stomach.
Another surprise was that Richie’s house was not a disaster. And his parents
weren’t even there.
“Away for the weekend,” Richie explained, waving his hang noncommittally.
The six of them settled in the living room with blankets and pillows all over
the floor, the coffee table pushed right up in front of the TV to make room.
Mike put on Ghostbusters while Richie picked up ten to fifteen empty bottle of
alcohol and threw them into kitchen, only to return with chips and popcorn and
soda.
Stanley wondered through his alcohol-fuzzed brain whether Richie’s parents were
ever home; he never talked about them.
“Rich. Are you sad?” Stanley asked.
Richie just pat Stanley’s shoulder, and he helped him to his room, to put him
in pyjamas. “Why would I be sad, when I’m here with you, Stan?”
“Because your parents aren’t here.”
“But that’s the reason you’re allowed to be here right now,” Richie replied
after cringing but brushing it off.
“But they don’t seem like they care about you. I’ve never even heard you talk
about them getting you in trouble.”
Richie sighed, sat Stanley down on his bed, and ran his hands over his face.
“Let’s get you into some PJs.”
“Why are you ignoring my question?”
“Why do you even care?” Richie snapped.
“Because I care about you, Trashmouth.”
Richie just stood in front of Stanley on the bed, eyes searching for something.
Stanley knew what, but if he’d been sober he probably would’ve been denying it.
Sober him wouldn’t believe that Richie could feel the same way, but he was
looking at Richie’s searching eyes with wonder and he wanted to know what
Richie’s lips felt like.
So Stanley stood up, albeit slightly wobbly on his legs, and he kissed Richie.
He made a noise of surprise and then gently pushed Stanley away.
“Before you start doing that stupid movie-cliche thing where you think I don’t
like you back, I want you to know that I’m only not kissing you because you’re
drunk. I know that you like me. I had a feeling before tonight, but drunk you
is really affectionate, so I’m going to assume my hunch was correct. I want to
kiss you so badly, trust me. Like, sooo badly. But I won’t tonight.”
“That’s why I like you, Trashmouth,” Stanley whispered, sitting back on
Richie’s bed. “You’re a fucking gentleman.”
“Who’s the Trashmouth now, Uris?”
They both laughed, then Richie helped Stanley change into his pyjamas, and then
they laid down beside each other in Richie’s twin bed, and fell asleep.
**
When Stanley woke up, his head hurt behind his eyes. But his head was also
laying on something solid and comfortable; Richie’s chest. Everything that had
happened the night before replayed in his head, and he looked at Richie’s face,
only to find Richie already looking at him.
“Morning fucko,” he said, smiling.
Stanley groaned and buried his face in Richie’s chest.
“I wanna kiss you really badly,” Richie continued. “So we’re both gonna go
brush our teeth.”
Stanley’s stomach clenched in happiness. He just nodded.
When the two of them were back sitting on Richie’s bed, tasting like mint,
Richie turned to Stanley and said, “I hope you know that I have really fucking
strong feelings for you.”
“What the hell is happening to you, Richie? You’re being so mature and
responsible lately,” Stanley teased. But then he looked at his hands and added,
“But, yeah. I feel the same.”
“May I kiss you?”
Stanley nodded again, but then he didn’t wait for Richie; he moved forward and
put their lips together. Instantly, Richie reacted, cupping a hand against
Stanley’s cheek, and another lightly brushing his chin with the tips of his
long fingers.
A shiver ran down Stanley’s spine. He didn’t really know what to do with his
hands, so he put them on Richie’s skinny waist.
Stanley was 14 years old, and he was in love with Richie Tozier. And they were
making out. Richie’s tongue was in Stanley’s mouth, and Stanley had a boner.
Fuck.
“Rich,” he panted, pulling away with a wet sound.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something?”
“No, no! I mean, kind of…”
“Stan the Man, I’m not following.”
“We just need to… slow things down a little bit.”
Richie looked down at Stanley’s crotch and then grinned.
“Shut up,” Stanley grumbled.
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You were about to though.”
“Look, look Stanley. I know I talk about sex a lot, but I’m not actually…”
Richie trailed off, twisting his lips.
“I get it! Rich, I feel the same. You’re… incredible. But that can wait. We’re
fourteen, there’s no need to rush any of this.”
Richie smiles sheepishly, and then said, “I’m glad we’re on the same page. And…
you’re incredible as well. I want you to know that I wanna be your boyfriend,
and I get that we can’t really be like normal boyfriends, because people aren’t
super okay with gay people, or whatever we are, I don’t even really think I’m
totally gay, I still like girls, and I… I’m rambling because I’m nervous, but
this is me trying to ask you to be my boyfriend.”
Stanley leaned forward and pressed his lips against Richie’s once again. “I’d
really, really like that. But yeah, let’s not tell anyone yet.” “Not even the
Losers?” Richie asked.
“If that’s okay, yeah…”
“Yeah, that's fine. Can I tell Bev tho? She's known about my crush on you for
ages.”
Stanley smiled for what felt like the millionth time that morning already. He
nodded and let his lips brush lightly against Richie’s. “Alright, lets go make
some food for the rest of the boys.”
**
They ended up going to the store and getting all the thing they needed for
pancakes and getting back to the house before any of the boys were up (other
than Mike, who was awake and back at the farm by 5 am). It was noon by the time
they woke up Bill and Eddie with the smell of bacon and pancakes and syrup.
“Where did you guys go last night?” Ben asked. “I thought we were supposed to
sleep in the blanket nest together!”
“Sorry Benny boy,” Richie grinned. “I was busy taking advantage of a certain
very drunk Jewish boy. Turns out his dick is even prettier than his face.”
“Beep beep, Richie,” Stan said with a deep pink blush across his cheeks.
“Now, while Eddie and Bill slept off their hangovers,” Richie continued, like
Ben hadn't asked his question, “Stanley and I made breakfast.”
“I definitely did-didn’t sleep it off,” Bill groaned. He shovelled food into
his mouth with his head in his other hand.
“That’s disgusting,” Eddie said, watching Bill eat. “And yeah, I didn’t even
drink that much, why am I so hungover?” “Because you have a tiny little body.
You’re compact and hot like an Italian sports car,” Richie was speaking with
his mouth full of food.
“You’re making me gag for more than one reason, Trashmouth.”
Stanley was feeling ridiculously content, until Ben said, “Did you hear about
that gay guy who was killed on Dairy Avenue?”
“I didn’t even know there were queers in Derry. Too small,” Eddie said.
“There are gay people everywhere, Eds,” Richie said, his voice tense, but
Stanley was the only one who noticed.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Queer b-bashing even happens in New York City, of course it’s gon-gonna happen
here too,” Bill sighed.
“Maybe he had AIDS,” Eddie interjected.
“I don't think so,” Ben said.
“But he was gay, gay guys are getting it all the time these days. Did you hear
about my mom’s friend in New York who-”
“Yes, Eddie! We all heard about it! Now can we stop fucking talking about
this!” Stanley snapped.
From under the kitchen table, he felt something touching his hand. It was
Richie’s fingers, brushing against the back of Stanley’s hand. Soothing.
“Geez, Stan the Man, I know Eddie Spaghetti is annoying, but there’s no need to
yell,” he said instead. “I didn’t take you for a homophobe.”
“Shut the fuck up, Rich,” Stanley rolled his eyes.
**
“I’m really sorry, Stanley,” was the first thing Richie said to him when they
got to school on Monday morning.
“For what?”
“I didn’t stand up for you. The guys were being assholes, and I didn’t say
anything.”
“But you did. You’re the reason the subject changed, and I’m really grateful
for that. Plus you subverted the conversation when I was being too obvious,
getting all upset about what Eddie was saying.”
“Still. I’m sorry you had to deal with that at all. They really were being
assholes.”
“I know. But it’s just something I’m going to have to learn to deal with.
People aren’t exactly nice to queers.”
“Please don’t call yourself that,” Richie said, softly touching Stanley’s hand.
“I don’t think I mean it as a bad thing. I’m okay with being gay. I think my
parents will be okay with it. I don’t know how the rest of the Losers will
react, but we can cross that bridge when - or if - we get to it. I kinda like
the word queer, anyway. Gay seems too final.”
“Do you like girls too? I just realized I never asked you,” Richie said.
“Yeah, girls are cool. I think I like boys better, but there’s no denying that
girls are freaking gorgeous.”
“Who’s gorgeous?” Eddie asked, walking up behind Stanley, startling him a
little. Richie discreetly made sure they weren’t touching at all, letting his
weight fall onto his other foot, moving slightly farther away.
“We’re obviously talking about Mrs. Kaspbrak. What a fine piece of ass, am I
right Stan the Man?”
“I fucking hate you, Richie, you’re the worst,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes
and shoving Richie even farther away from Stanley.
“Hey Eds-”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Sorry, it’s just… can I ask you something? It’s a serious question.”
“Rich, what are you-” Stanley started to say.
“Trashmouth, being serious? I never thought I’d see the day.”
“No, really, Eddie.”
“Okay,” Eddie said, if slightly apprehensive.
“Do you have a problem with gay people? Because I know you didn’t actually say
anything bad the other day, but you didn’t sound thrilled about the idea, and I
just need to know,” Richie said, and then drew his bottom lip into his mouth,
chewing nervously.
Eddie was silent for a moment, his lips parted slightly. “I… I mean, my mom has
always talked about it being… dirty and wrong, and the whole AIDS thing really
has her freaked out, which has me kinda freaked out… but I don’t know. I guess
I hadn’t really spent that much time thinking about it.”
“Well, think about it. What would you think if one of your friends was gay?”
Richie asked.
“I don’t know, I think I could get used to it, but it doesn’t really matter,
because I don’t know any gay people.”
Stanley’s shoulders tightened, and he immediately felt Richie tense up beside
him. “I’m gay, Eddie.”
Eddie was silent again. And then he said, “You’re just fucking with me, right?
It’s a joke? A classic Trashmouth prank?”
“No, you fucking asshole, I’m fucking gay, and if you have a problem with that,
then we’re gonna have a fucking problem,” Richie was whispering furiously,
making sure no one overheard. “You’re one of my best friends, Eds, but I can’t
be friends with someone who isn’t okay with who I am as a person. This isn’t
changing and it isn’t going anywhere.”
Stanley took a deep breath and put his hand on Richie’s shoulder. “Rich…”
“Okay!” Eddie interrupted. “Richie, I love you like a brother, and if this is
who you are, then I’ll figure it out. Okay? It isn’t going to be a problem.”
“Promise?” Richie whispered again, his voice shaking.
Eddie nodded and pulled Richie into a hug. “Yeah, I promise. I’m so fucking
sorry I made you feel like this.”
The bell rang for them to go to class, and the two boys broke apart, and they
all went their separate ways. But not before Richie and Stanley’s eyes met, and
Stanley saw so much relief. He was pretty sure things were going to be okay.
**
The Losers were all sitting in a circle in Bill’s backyard a couple days later.
Richie had a bruise forming on his temple from where one of Bowers’ old lackeys
had hit him with an elbow. Stanley’s palms were scraped from falling on the
pavement after being pushed. Bill and Ben and Mike didn’t look much better, but
Eddie looked the worst; he had a black eye and a split lip.
Peter had seen them walking out of school, and called them a ‘bunch of queers.’
Eddie had lost his shit and went after the three older bullies, screaming at
them and punching Peter in the face. He’d gotten a few good hits in before
Peter caught him in the eye and the mouth. The Losers all got involved, and the
fight had to be broken up by a teacher. No one believed Peter when he said that
5’3” Eddie Kaspbrak with the fanny pack and asthma was the one to throw the
first punch, so the Losers got off with one detention each, and then they
congregated at Bill’s.
“So… any reason you decided that today was a good day to try to get even?” Ben
asked.
“He called us queers,” Eddie said quietly.
“And?” Bill asked. “They’ve done that a million times before.”
“It’s just… different now.”
“How s-so?”
“Well, I guess now is as good a time as any!” Richie said, standing up.
The Losers all looked at him in confusion. Stanley whispered his name and
tugged lightly on his pant leg.
“I’m gay! Well, not gay, I also like girls, but I’m a big old queer. Bev says
the word for it is bisexual. I like tits and dick.”
They all stared at Richie with wide eyes.
“So… Eddie knew this?” Mike asked.
“Yep. Stan and Bev know too.”
“Why do they know and we don’t?” Bill asked.
“Bev has known for over a year, because she doesn't live here and she was more
removed than the rest of you. Eddie knows because I was afraid he was a
homophobe, so I told him.”
“And Stan?” Mike asked.
There was a second of hesitation in which Stanley’s heart clenched, but none of
the others noticed it at all. After what felt like forever to Stanley, Richie
finally said, “He found my porn.”
“Yep. It was really scaring,” Stanley said, his voice shaking slightly. “At his
house on Friday. That’s why we were in his room for so long, we were talking,
and then we just fell asleep.”
“None of us have said this yet, so I’m gonna make sure you know,” Ben started.
“I’m really happy you told us, and I’m happy that you’re figuring out who you
are and are comfortable enough to share it. And I love you, and I’m proud of
you.”
Bill and Eddie and Mike all joined in, in agreement. Stanley’s heart was
clenching for a different reason, and Richie was beaming. His eyes watered
slightly.
“Alright, I lied!” Stanley exclaimed.
“What are you talking ab-about?” Bill asked.
“Well, technically Richie lied too. I didn’t find out about Richie being gay
because I found his porn. He took me to his room to take care of me because I
was really drunk, and I kissed him. Because I’m also gay. Or… queer, at least,
I don’t know.”
The response was a lot more immediate this time, the Losers clapping Stanley on
the back, Richie finally sitting down next to Stanley, putting his hand on his
knee. Stanley looked up at him and they smiled sheepishly at each other.
“So much for not telling the Losers, huh?” Stanley said.
“You guys are dating?” Eddie yelled. “So the other day when we were talking
about Richie and you were there the whole time, you guys were already dating?”
Stanley just nodded and blushed.
“I’m so happy for you!” Mike exclaimed.
“You guys aren’t going to be a super romantic, gross couple now, are you?” Ben
asked teasingly, wrinkling up his nose.
“Stan the Man, romantic?” Richie shouted. “No fucking way!”
“Gross? Definitely, with Trashmouth here.”
“To be p-perfectly honest,” Bill said. “I actually kinda thought you guys hated
each other. Well, Stan for sure, at least. You guys are totally opposite.”
Stanley just looked at Richie, but he was still just smiling warmly.
“It kinda makes perfect sense though,” Bill continued. “The two of you as a
couple, balancing each other out; Stanley bringing Richie back down to Earth
and Richie getting Stan to loosen up.”
Richie intertwined his long fingers with Stanley’s, bringing their joined hands
up to press a kiss against Stanley’s fingers.
Ben shuddered and said, “Ugh, I was right.”
***** Deux *****
Chapter Summary
     sexy times and i love you's
Stanley Uris loved Richie Tozier. He was kind and funny and loving, and those
were on his worst days. Stanley could spend every day with Richie and never get
sick of holding his hand, or pressing kisses to his constantly moving lips.
Stanley found that the best way to shut up the Trashmouth was to kiss him
silent.
They were 16 years old, and Stanley Uris wanted to tell Richard Tozier that he
loved him.
They had been dating for nearly two years. Stanley’s parents had known for the
past few months, so their sleepovers became few and far between, but they still
spent almost every day together. They went out on dates to the movies and the
park, and Richie would sit somewhat quietly while Stanley looked at birds with
his binoculars and wrote down the different species in his book. Those were
Stanley’s favourite days; the sun would be beating down on their faces, and
Richie would lean his head on Stanley’s shoulder while he read comic books, and
then they’d walk to the cafe across the street and tease Bill in his apron and
name tag, and order hot chocolate, even though it was hot enough outside to
melt ice cream in seconds.
Stanley thought about those moments all the time.
He also thought about the moments when he was at Richie’s house, and his
parents weren’t home, and his own parents thought he was at Bill’s for the
night. They would kiss for hours on end, only pulling away to eat or sleep. But
he thought about those moments in very specific places; like in bed alone, or
in the shower.
They’d been dating for two years, and they had talked often about whether or
not they were ready for sex. Richie had been ready since the night of their
first anniversary, but Stanley wasn’t yet, so they talked it out, and Stanley
decided he was ready for some things, but not everything. Richie ended up
touching Stanley slowly and gently until stars exploded behind his eyes. A few
months later, Stanley returned the favour, and they’d been doing that pretty
regularly. Every now and then, Richie would get his mouth on Stanley, and
Stanley liked to joke about it being the best way to shut him up.
“I think I’m ready,” Stanley said one night, two weeks away from their second
anniversary.
“For what?” Richie asked, not looking at Stanley, continuing to putter around
his bedroom, not quite tidying.
“I think we should have sex.”
Richie fumbled with whatever was in his hand, dropping it on the ground with a
loud clatter. He turned to look at Stanley.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
“I’m positive,” Stanley replied. He was sitting on Richie’s unmade bed, his
back against the headboard, knees up, hands clasped together behind them, his
toes tucked under the scratchy blanket.
“Okay. Yeah,” Richie was blinking rapidly, moving to sit at the end of his bed.
“When… when were you thinking?”
“Your parents are gone tonight,” Stanley shrugged.
“You… you wanna have sex… tonight…here, in my bed…”
“Richie, are you short circuiting or something?”
“Yeah…” he said, like he wasn’t paying attention. “I mean, no! It’s just… I’ve
been waiting for this for like, a year, and I can’t believe it’s actually
happening. You’re sure?”
“Yeah, Rich,” Stanley laughed. “I’m sure. I… I love you.”
Richie’s eyes snapped up to meet Stanley’s. “Fuck, I love you too, Stan the
Man. I love you so fucking much. I’m so happy you said it first.”
Richie and Stanley leaned forward at the same time, their lips drawing
together. Stanley laid down, pulling Richie on top of him.
“Wait, now?” Richie asked against Stanley’s lips.
Stanley just hummed and said, “Why not?”
“Okay,” Richie mumbled. Neither of them wanted to break the kiss.
Richie settled between Stanley’s knees, his hand’s gripping at his hair.
Stanley could feel his heart pounding with anticipation as Richie’s hands moved
down to grip at Stanley’s thighs. He let his fingers tangle in Richie’s messy
curls, tugging lightly, pulling a moan from Richie’s mouth. He could feel the
familiar stirring in his stomach, and he could feel Richie getting hard as
well. Suddenly, Richie pulled back.
“Wait!” He said, screwing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “We- we need to
talk about this.”
“What about it?” Stanley asked.
“We need to sort out… the logistics.”
“You mean who’s doing the fucking and who’s getting fucked?”
“Jesus, Stanley, I think we’ve been spending too much time together,” Richie
laughed.
“Well, Rich,” Stanley said, leaning in to whisper in Richie’s ear, “I was kinda
hoping I could fuck you.”
A shiver ran down Richie’s spine and he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Stan, I’d like
that.”
Their lips came back together and they laid down on the bed, Stanley wrapping
his legs around Richie’s waist. He drew Richie as close to him as possible,
pressing their hips together, Richie’s hands on his thighs again, stroking
gently. Richie moved his lips to Stanley’s neck, and he tried to keep his
breath from coming too heavily.
“God, Rich…” Stanley sighed, his eye’s rolling back, closing. “I wanna fuck you
so badly. I wanna make you so hard and I wanna make you feel so good. I’m gonna
make you cum harder than you ever have before.”
Richie groaned as he sucked a little harder at Stanley’s neck. “Stan… Jesus,
you make me so fucking hard… I just want your fucking cock inside of me. I
wanna feel you stretching me open cause you’re so fucking big… when I get my
lips around your dick, it’s so incredible, I can’t get the whole thing in my
mouth, but I’m gonna take your whole cock in my ass.”
They were grinding their dicks together through their jeans, and it just wasn’t
enough anymore. So they scrambled out of their pants and boxers as quickly as
possible, throwing their shirts away as well.
“Stan, god, your dick is so pretty,” Richie groaned, pressing the length of
their bodies together, kissing him hotly, desperately. “If you don’t get your
fingers in my ass soon, I might cry.”
“Have you ever done this before?” Stan asked. “To yourself?”
Richie nodded.
“Fuck, that’s so hot. Can I watch you do it now?”
“You wanna watch me stretch myself open?” Richie asked, in a deep, slow voice,
biting at his lip.
Stan pulled lube and condoms out of his backpack beside Richie’s bed and gave
them to his boyfriend. Richie rubbed some between his fingers and reached
behind himself. He sat back on his heels, spreading his knees beneath him. His
head fell back and his breathing sped up as he started fingering himself open.
Stanley sat up to watch.
“You’re so fucking hot, Rich. I’ve never seen you so fucking needy. I can’t
wait to get my dick into your perfect ass.” He reached a hand around Richie,
his palm flat out against Richie’s moving hand, feeling as he slid in and out
of himself. “Feel good?”
“Not as good as I will when you finally fuck me.” Richie could hardly get the
words out.
“Add another finger,” Stanley instructed. Richie complied, and Stanley let his
other hand reach out to touch his boyfriend’s dick. “You’re so damn good for
me, babe.”
Richie added another finger, and he was panting. He gasped silently. “You need
to take your hand off my dick or this’ll be over real soon, Stan the Man.”
“You touching that spot inside of you?”
“Yeah.” “I’m gonna hit that with the head of my cock, smash into over and over
again until you’re fucking crying.”
“God, I need to you fuck me right now. I need you inside of me. Now.”
“Yea, babe, fuck… anything for you.”
Stanley grabbed a condom from the box and ripped open the package as Richie
continued to move his fingers inside himself. He got the condom on, and then
Richie reached out with his free hand and stroked Stanley’s dick a couple
times, and then took his fingers out.
“Get on your back, babe,” Stan said sweetly.
“No, you get on your back,” Richie replied.
Stanley’s heart sped up and he nodded, lying down. Richie got his knees on
either side of Stanley’s hips and put more lube on his hand. He spread it on
Stanley’s dick, using his hand to guide it inside himself.
Stanley held his breath as Richie slowly lowered himself, eyes screwed shut,
breath coming in heavy pants.
“Take your time, babe, I want you to feel so good,” Stanley whispered. He let
his fingers trace down his chest and stomach, touching his dick softly to
distract him from the pain.
When he was fully inside of Richie, he couldn't fucking breath. He ran his
hands back and forth on Richie’s pale thighs, feeling the wiry hairs beneath
his palms. And then Richie started moving, just slowly back and forth, side to
side. Stanley had to bite his lips so hard to keep from coming right there.
When he lifted his hips, and sunk back down, Stanley cried out.
“Babe, you feel so fucking hot and tight.”
Richie moaned in reply, breathing out, “Your cock feels so good. I could
fucking do this all day.”
He was moving faster now. Stanley sat up to bring their mouths together,
kissing sloppily. His tight grip on Richie’s thighs gave him leverage as his
snapped his own hips up to meet Richie’s in time. He brought Richie’s knees up
onto his shoulder, opening him up further. Richie cried out at the new
position, swears falling from his mouth.
“Right there, god, right fucking there, Stanley. Oh my fucking god, fuck me
harder. Harder, babe.”
Stanley listened, lifting Richie and setting him down on his back. “You look so
fucking good, totally folded in half and taking my cock so well.”
Richie was practically crying as Stanley was pounding into his ass steadily,
quickly. Their mouths came together, but they weren’t really kissing, just
breathing against each other hotly.
“Babe… fuck, babe, you’re so hot, I’m gonna cum,” Stanley panted against his
mouth.
“Me too, fuck. Touch my cock.”
Stanley’s hand moved quickly over Richie’s cock between the two of them, his
precum slicking the way. With a quiet whine, he was coming all over Stanley’s
hand and his own stomach.
“Keep going,” he demanded.
Stanley did as he was told and kept fucking into Richie for a few more moments
before he was filling up the condom and breathing out Richie’s name.
Stanley removed Richie’s legs from his shoulders and pulled out, getting rid of
the condom. He threw it onto the floor somewhere, too fucked out to care, and
then fell onto the small bed next to him.
“That…” Richie trailed off, taking a couple deep breaths.
“Yeah,” Stanley agreed, linking their hands together, fingers intertwined.
“How did we manage to get turned around on the bed?” Richie chuckled, and then
the two of them were having a full on giggle fit.
When they finally both calmed down, they turned to face each other, bringing
their lips together gently.
“I love you, Richie,” Stanley breathed out.
“I love you too, Stanley.”
They fell asleep that night, fingers interlocked and legs tangled together,
smiles on their lips.
End Notes
     sexy times in the second chapter
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