sick [ stozier ]

02 || good boy

" i'll show you dog. "

—
"stan. stan. stan. stan-the-man-the-jew-with-a-plan. staniel. stanothy. stanley-"
"what."

"where are you going?"
"home, dumbass, i'm going home."

"...can i come?"

"you're already following me," stan stretched as he walked, crossing his arms. richie swung his arm around his shoulder as he walked, still smoking.

stan looked away, he was inhaling smoke. "idiot get away or put that out, my god." richie shrugged and continued, tired. they made it to stans house, nobody home. stan unlocked the door and walked in, richie still attached to him like a leech.

stan forced his arm off of him, shoving him outside. "don't smoke in here asshole."
"but-"
"shut up."
stan closed the door and exhaled, walking to his room. he curled up in his bed, throwing his shoes off. stan wiggled underneath the blanket, not feeling like doing anything.

he heard the door swing open and loud, quick footsteps boomed from outside his door. richie kicked open the door,

"heEYY! i put it out, no neeeeeed to worry!"

"shut the fuck up, either get in bed with me, hang out in my house or shoo." richie snickered and backed up.
"wait- what-"

before stan could protest richie launched onto the bed, crushing stan. he wheezed and coughed, squirming.

"off you big idiot! i'd call you a dog but even that would be a compliment!"
"call me da-"
"shHHHHH!"

"i'll show you dog," richie lowered himself snd stuck out his tongue, stan instantly moving his head and torso around.

"don't you fucking dare- don't you fucking touch me!"

he licked stans cheek and cackled when stan gagged and wiped his cheek with richies shirt.
"if you wanna be a dog then- up!"

"wh- youuuu don't own me i'm a free spirit!"
stan looked around and shrugged, wrapping his hands around his neck, shaking his arms wildly.

"okay! okay-"
"up!" stan ordered again, sliding his hands down richies shirt and pushed slightly. he sat up, "off!" and rolled off.
"thank you,"

"good boy."