timing : stozier

35

june 15/16

stanley's hand hit his phone, drowsy as his movements were, and answered the call. his phone ceased vibrating and he slowly brought his phone to his ear.

"hello?" he mumbled into the phone, hearing heavy breathing on the other side. rubbing his eyes with his other hand, he awaited a response.

"stanley, can i, can i come over?" richie's voice was on the other end, quiet and panicked. stanley could tell richie was choking on his words, and not in his normal chatterbox way. it almost sounded like richie was swallowing sobs.

"yeah, why?" stanley asked, "and what fucking time is it anyway?" stanley leaned over to his side to answer his own question, squinting to read the clock. 2 am. richie being awake at 2 am was not a rare occurrence, stan knew this, but richie being so cryptic was.

"baby, i just--i need to. please." richie's voice cracked softly, and stan became a little more worried. this was quite out of the blue, even for richie. it didn't help that richie hadn't been telling him what was wrong, and now he was crying.

"yes, of course. my window is probably unlocked." stanley whispered, realizing he couldn't have his parents hear him. richie made a sound of affirmation on the other side, and stan could hear richie shuffling around in his room over the phone.

"thanks" richie barely even said it, and soon enough he had hung up the phone. stanley was concerned, getting out of bed and physically opening his window, even if it was freezing for june weather, and he wasn't wearing a shirt.

richie soon appeared at the bottom of stan's slanted roof, climbing quickly onto the roof and scampering into stan's room.

it sounded like richie was muttering at first, but stanley realized he was crying.

"hey, hey, it's okay, you're with me." stanley put an arm around richie's waist and brought him to the bed. richie was clenching his phone in his left hand, and stanley slowly unfurled his fingers and put the phone on the nightstand. it was clear richie was hiccuping and choking back loud sobs.

"stan, i, fuck, i—i can't" richie mumbled, wrapping his arms around stanley's torso and burying his head in stan's chest. stanley put an arm around richie's back, and the other in his hair, keeping him close. richie's tears dampened stan's skin, and stanley held him closer.

"love, what's wrong?" the pet name slipped out, but stanley had bigger things to worry about.

"i hate them, i don't want to. it's not my fault i'm like this stan, i promise. i'm sorry. i'm sorry." richie babbled, his sobs still escaping him. stan shushed him softly, trying to find a balance between hearing richie and not waking up his parents.

"like what? it's not your fault, richie. don't be sorry, you didn't do anything wrong," stan attempted to soothe him.

"stan, i don't want to leave you. i don't want to." richie hiccuped, squeezing stanley.

"you won't. and i'm not leaving you, it's okay. we're okay. c'mon, breathe with me, alright?" stanley backed a little away from richie so that he could breathe in sync with him.

in the moonlight, now that his eyes were adjusted, stan saw now how broken richie looked. he had tear streaks all down his face, and they were still coming. his eyelashes were stuck together, and his bottom lip wouldn't stop quivering. richie wasn't even in pajamas, which stan found strange. he was still in jeans and a t shirt. if stanley looked hard enough, he noticed the faint red outline of a hand on the side of richie's cheek. upon seeing that, stanley took richie back into his arms.

"talk to me, richie." stanley urged, desperate to now how to help the boy falling apart in front of him.

"stan, am i troubled to you? am i a-a bad person? because i know i do bad things, and-and i should know better, but i don't think i'm a bad person! i don't think i deserve this." richie started whispering a response, being vague enough that hopefully stanley wouldn't catch on.

"you don't deserve the horrible treatment you get, richie. you're incredible. you're not a bad person, okay? what are they doing to you?" stanley's morning (or rather, midnight) voice was raspy and uneven.

rather than answer, richie asked a question of his own, "can i sleep here tonight?" stanley nodded but still waited for an answer. it never came.

"don't sleep in those jeans, borrow the pajama pants you wore last time, 'kay?" stanley said, richie nodding and getting up. he ruffled through a drawer and found the aforementioned pajama pants. richie put them on while stan flipped back the comforter.

thanking god that it was a cool summer night and not a hot one, stanley let richie crawl in beside him on the bed under the covers. richie, still sniffling a little, placed an arm over stan's stomach. richie, thinking about it, honestly didn't think he'd ever seen stanley this softened before. he hadn't made a single sarcastic jab.

"you-you don't have to say it back, but i love you. goodnight stanley," richie mumbled into stan's side, stan's mouth feeling very dry all of a sudden.

prying his dry lips apart, he mumbled back, "i love you too. goodnight."