"Let's pretend for a moment that you were to go and kill a clown and leave me here..alone because you think I shouldn't go back and see our friends," you spoke clearly to your husband Stanley Uris. You had been friends since elementary school days so when the whole thing went down the summer Pennywise came you were there for him and for the rest of the losers. You got the call from Mike Hanlon, excited at the thought of seeing your friends again before Stan told you about the parts of that summer that had slipped your memory.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"I don't want to go but I know if I don't something could happen to you. Because you want to go and I am going instead of you. End of discussion." Your mouth opened to form a circle in surprise. Stanley got up and you grabbed his hand pushing him back down to you. He sat on your glass table and looked back in your eyes.
"Bullshit," you whispered. He sighed and you put your hands on his cheeks. "It is bullshit if you think that I am going to let you go without me." You looked in his eyes a little longer and then let him go, standing.
"I'll pack," he muttered.
You shook your head and walked to your kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine and some glasses. You poured some as Stan stood up and you watched him head for the bedroom where your suitcases were stored and you stopped him with your eyes. He walked over, leaning over the other side of your island.
"I don't think I can go Y/L/N," he muttered. You resisted the urge to tell him your last name was Uris now like you usually did when he called you by your maiden name. You handed him a glass of wine. He took a drink but then looked back at you. His hair flopped over his head. For a second you saw Stanley as you had when you first started dating. Young and innocent and scared and unsure. He had grown into himself but you could still see it in his eyes.
Young, innocent, scared, unsure.
"We don't have to," you told him quietly. He shut his eyes tightly and opened them, his eyes blinking quickly.
"We have to," he whispered, grabbing your hand and running a finger over the scar there that you got when you were a kid. He had an identical one on his hand and you tried your hardest not to reach for it.
"Come 'ere," you muttered and he walked across the table and you embraced each other. He dug his face into your neck and inhaled the scent of your hair. You always underlined, smelled the same. It reminded him of being 15.
"I love you more than anything and I don't want you to get hurt," he mumbled. You kissed his neck gingerly.
"I love you more," you said. You could tell that made him smile a little.
"No way you loser."
"Yes way." He pulled away and shook his head.
"I'll fight you. You'll be on the ground in like 4 seconds flat," he said. You raised an eyebrow.
"You could get me on the ground faster if you asked nicely," you teased. He rolled his eyes and hugged you again this time kissing you.
You pulled away and put your hands on his chest, pushing him away lightly. You moved toward the living room couch.
"We can think about it tomorrow. We can pack tomorrow if we're gonna go. Today, tonight I say we hang out and watch a movie and make out a little," you said with a smile. He put your glass of wine by the sink and rolled his eyes.
"We're not teenagers anymore. We've been married how many years?"
"20."
"And how many times have you said, make out a little?"
"I'm a little angry about the fact you had to ask how many years we've been married."
"Like once. Today if the first time I'd say."
"Stanley would you rather I just say I want you to come over here and push me on the couch?" you asked. He stopped, leaning against the island and staring at you. He looked in your eyes like he was trying to figure out your intentions.
In two long strides his hands were on your cheeks and his lips were on yours. Excitement and butterflies ran through you. So many years and you still got those stupid butterflies.
Kiss after kiss and you had nearly fallen over the backside of the couch. He hoisted you up so your legs were around his waist. You pulled away and looked into his eyes, searching for something.
"You know maybe we should pack-"
"For fucks sake Y/L/N-"
"My last name is Uris."
"I'm going to-"
"What. What are you going to do?" you asked with a giggle. He laughed lightly. It did feel like you were kids again. He never would have been able to hold you up like he was now with his scrawny arms back then.
"I am going to kiss you again," he decided upon. You nodded seriously.
"That sounds like a valid punishme-"
You didn't get the word out before he kissed you again, leading you to your bedroom.
Left on the couch was his phone, ringing, an area code from Derry that he wasn't going to pick up until the next morning and by then him and his wife had decided they should probably go say hi to their old friends.