Chapter 23

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Stan Uris seems to accept the role as Richie's new best friend. He doesn't question it, doesn't even ask any questions when Richie shows up at the Uris residence in the middle of the night. He nods, holds the door open, and hugs Richie when the boy folds in on himself in a mess of sobs and sniffles.

Richie had stayed the night, finally telling someone that his parents are gone and nodding when Stan said that they should go down to the police station in the morning instead of first period. Stan is not one to deviate from his schedule, the boy has a time planned for everything right down to when he should piss, but something about the way Richie had cried so hard made him feel like this was more important than his own OCD tendencies.

When morning came and Richie had refused to go to the station, Stan said "Okay," and took him down to the standpipe to show him the beautiful birdbath that was installed in the late 50's.

Now, here they sit, Stan's posture perfect and precise, so still and patient that Richie can't describe him as anything other than fastidious. Richie is trying to sit still as well, but the boy has never been still in his entire life. He wiggles, shifts around, bounces his legs, stretches his arms, bobs his head, taps his feet, and watches the damn birds.

"Do you want to make out?" Richie asks.

For a moment, Stan is still so concentrated on his binoculars that Richie is almost convinced that his words fell on deaf ears. Then, with stiff robotic movements, Stan lowers his arms and turns his head to look at Richie.

"Excuse me?" He asks. "At least take me to dinner and a movie first."

"Okay," Richie shrugs. "I will. I've got $20, you can eat all the cheeseburgers your heart desires, Stan Uris."

Stan's cheeks flush. "Are you joking?"

"Why does everything fucking think that?" Richie exhales, frowning. His voice booms as he suddenly becomes a WWE announcer. "In this corner we have Rrrrrrrrrrriiiichie Toooooooooozzier! Human disaster incapable of doing anything but making jokes! And in this corner, we have the undefeated crippling self-doubt! Who will win? I think it's a pretty obvious maaaaatch, laddiessss and gents!"

As Richie proceeds to do a terrible drumroll using his shaking hands and trembling thighs, Stan rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"Okay. Kiss me," Stan says.

Richie stops and looks over at the boy. Stan's cheeks are pink and burning bright, but he looks certain, like he is about everything.

"Really?" Richie sits up straight, his body suddenly as stiff as a statue.

"Yeah. There's nobody around, go for it," Stan says. "Kiss me."

So Richie leans forward until his nose bumps against Stan's and he has to tilt his head to the right while Stan goes left. The early December air warms the same way it did before, and it's just these two boys in their calm little center of temporary spring. Flowers bloom and spread across their skin, hummingbirds singing them love songs.

Richie pulls away, blinking his big, huge, owl eyes at Stan, trying to decide if he was any good or not.

Stan smiles and grabs Richie by the front of the jacket, pulling the tall boy in for another kiss. This one is less precise, which is ironic considering Stan initiated it. This one is a bit more messy, but more comfortable. Richie smiles, which makes Stan laugh, yet the two boys remain kissing each other.

This time, when they pull away, Stan says "I think you're a bit gay, Richie Tozier. Maybe try wrestling a match with your blatant homosexuality."

"Yowza!" Richie grins. "Stan Uris Gets Off A Good One! A true comedian! Yowza, yowza, yowZA!"

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