ethereal : it oneshots

when he walks in the door

pairing: stenbrough

in some other place, and some other time, bill denbrough is walking through that door, and he's coming home. he'll kick off his shoes and shed his jacket on the floor while getting a glass of water. or maybe a glass of whisky. either way, he'll open the bedroom door, and he'll lie down, facing the ceiling.

in this place, and this time, stanley uris is alone, and there is no one coming in through the door. no matter how many times he tries to imagine it, he knows that bill is not coming back.

he has to change. he has to get out of these clothes.

but he can't. his arm is burning; right in the spot where the word lover is tattooed in hebrew. it's killing him, like his body knows bill was there when he got that tattoo.

he can picture it, bill's half awe-struck face staring at the tattoo artist, carving the word into stanley's upper arm. he was holding onto stanley's other hand, kissing it whenever stanley hissed. truth be told, stanley didn't remember it hurting all that much, only that he'd wanted bill to hold his hand.

it was stupid of him, in hindsight, to do all of this. bill wasn't a commitment man. he could try, and he did try, for four years at that, but in the end, he just couldn't stay. it wasn't his fault. he had to leave.

always leaving, bill was. stanley should've known.

bill had truly loved him, that much stanley did believe. he'd remember all of their dates, and their anniversaries, and he always knew what to gift stanley. he knew just how to stroke stanley's hair, and make stanley smile.

he could've been a good one. the good one, maybe. but he was never meant to stay.

-

"oh you like him, don't-cha?" richie sat down next to stanley on the couch, his own cushion moving as richie added weight to the couch. stanley turned his head and his neck cracked, having been staring forward for too long.

stanley could barely hear him over the sound of the music playing. he raised an eyebrow, "what? who?" he asked, richie grinning widely. he slid his arm around stanley's shoulders, leaning his head on them.

"billy-boy-billiam. no offense, but you've been watching his ass all night. and yes, i mean, his ass," richie remarked, stanley shaking his shoulders to get richie off. it didn't work, and he succumbed to richie's presence.

stan glanced back to where he'd been looking, in bill's direction. bill, who was talking to mike and audra in the other corner, stanley feeling a pang in his chest as bill reached out to put his hand on audra's shoulder.

"fuck off. his ass is at my eye level, that's not my fault." stanley said, taking a sip out of his cup. richie took the cup out of his hand, stacking it in his own empty cup. stanley looked over, a little dizzy, and confused at richie's action.

"no sober stan would openly admit to looking at anyone's ass, let alone denbrough. you've had enough, me thinks. now go talk to him," richie let go of stanley and pushed at him, stanley groaning.

"you're an ass." spoken with the gravitas of someone only seventeen years old, stanley pushed himself up from the couch, flipping off richie.

richie, in response, kicked stanley in the ass with his shoe, causing him to stumble forward. stanley flipped him off again.

"bill! hi," stanley shouted, probably louder than he needed to. bill turned around, a curious smile on his face. bill waved, mike glancing at audra.

"stan, are y-yuh-you drunk?" bill responded, ignoring the cup in his own hand. bill reached a hand out to feel the temperature of stanley's face, and stanley felt himself go a little pink. he was warm. stanley couldn't stop looking at bill's eyes.