𝙁𝘼𝙆𝙀. - stozier.

𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑻𝑹𝑬 ༉‧₊˚✧

[WARNING]: use of homophobic slurs

it was about 8 pm when stan decided he was heading out for the night, richie snoring gently against his chest, emitting a small smile from the curly haired boy above. he placed a small kiss onto his forehead before shifting him onto the pillow just beneath his head, stepping up from the bed and straightening out his clothes because god forbid stan be caught in wrinkled clothing. he mumbled a small 'bye rich' before exiting the room and leaving the threshold of the tozier household. as soon as stan stepped foot into his own home two blocks over, he was met with the very displeased-looking face of his father.

"where have you been for so long, stanley?" his father interrogated, taking a step towards the smaller boy.

"just out with a friend, sir," stan mumbled, playing with the small 'losers' bracelet that hung loosely on his wrist.

"you haven't been out with that denbrough fag, have you stanley?" he inquired yet again, the word causing stan to inwardly cringe in the slightest.

"no, sir. i was at richie's house. richie tozier," stan responded, quick to defend bill in a way of sorts. what he didn't tell his father is that he had spent the whole day at the tozier boy's house cuddling and kissing earlier that day.

"good," was all he said before ruffling stan's hair and walking towards the living room. he turned around for a second only to call back, "and take off that damned sweatshirt, you look like a heathen." stan nodded, heading up the stairs rather quickly, rushing to get out of his father's line of vision as fast as possible.

when he finally entered his only safe space in his home, he practically collapsed onto the bed, shaking with silent sobs. 'god, what's wrong with me? why do i have to like boys? why can't i just be normal? why do i have to be in love with my best fr-' stan's thoughts were interrupted as the loud ringtone screeched from his phone, almost begging him to answer it before his father could come up and smash it into pieces. he quickly swooped up the object and answered before even having to guess who it was.

"stainel my boy! where'd you run off to? you were a nice pillow," richie's loud voice blared through the speaker, giving stan's ear a small ache.

"ju-just had to head home, rich. listen, i gotta go eat. we'll talk tomorrow, alright?" stan rushed out, hurrying to get off the phone with his friend and fake lover.

"yeah, of course. stan are you oka-" "i'm fine, chee, really. bye," stan cut off, pressing the red 'end call' button before tossing his phone onto his nightstand and letting his body fall backwards onto the bed beneath him once more, crying harder than ever. why did he always have to lie to his friends? why couldn't he let them in and help? no, he could never do that! he shouldn't have to drag them into something as silly as his father wanting all gays to burn in hell, right? or even maybe mention the fact his anxiety was slowing eating away at his mind, shoving him into a deep abyss of thoughts he couldn't seem to pry himself out of.

stanley didn't eat dinner that night.

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hey guys sorry this is so short it's kind of a filler chapter/digging deeper into stan's home life so y'all can get more in depth on why stan's always so worried about showing affection with his male friends n stuff