8TEEN | IT ONE SHOTS

never leave [stenbrough]

prompt from tumblr: "you are my new pillow"
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Bill isn't quite certain when Stan had fallen asleep but he wasn't complaining. Their position, although compromising, gave Bill the perfect angle to turn his head and see Stan's face up close. The other boys curls would occasionally brush against Bill's cheeks which would result in them being brushed away. The style of his hair was soft to the touch though Bill was certain they would be tangled and messy, then he remembered who the curls belonged to.

With how stern, organized, and cleanly Stan was around the rest of their friends, Bill imagined that when he slept he would be as stiff as a board. Their situation at that moment proved that he was wrong.

Stan had invited Bill over to watch a new film that he had picked up at a video rental shop somewhere in the city. Bill pulled up in his rusty red pick-up truck sometime after four and Stan had been waiting by the door innocently, waving in a very Stan-like fashion with a smile on his face. Bill had been excited about the event since the other teen invited him at lunch.

If their other movie nights were any indication on how this was going to go, Bill would probably end up with his neck arched to the side and his best friend settled on his lap, lips attacking his throat while leaving dark colorful bruises in their wake.

At first, Stan had told Bill that nothing was going to happen, a hint of playfulness laced in his voice. It was a side of him that Bill loved. Bill smiled to himself. "Wh-whatever you say, Stanley." He had remarked and kept his eyes glued to the television set when he felt Stan's gaze on the side of his face.

Stan shocked himself the first time he had even thought of performing something like that on anyone, let alone Bill, blushing as he felt the fire building in the pit of his stomach. Ever since the first encounter, though, Bill noticed that Stan had a tell before he would crawl into his lap.

He would stare at Bill out of the corner of his eye, fascinated by the damn near perfect symmetry of his flawless features. His eyes would trail along his jawline, raking up until the reached the breathtaking blue irises of his eyes, biting his bottom lip briefly.

That was how they had ended up in their current position. Stan had started out by placing open-mouthed kisses over Bill's collarbone, laughing lightly at the airy sounds that would occasionally leave the other teens lips. After he had successfully imprinted a few marks onto his previously flawless skin, Stan's kisses began to grow lazy and sloppy, replacing his nipping teeth with baby soft lips and smiles.

When the soft presses of lips against his skin ceased to repeat, Bill turned his head to find Stan sleeping with his face pressed against the formers shoulder. Although this particular scenario had never happened before, Bill smiled and leaned back into the cushions of the couch, securing an arm around Stan's waist. eyes trained forward and watching the film that was only about halfway through.

After the movie had ended, the credits flashing across the screen, Bill decided it would best to wake Stan. It was a little after seven at that point and Bill needed to get home, although he would rather stay and cuddle with Stan since it felt pretty natural and nice.

"St-Stan," Bill whispered. running a hand up and down his back to catch the boy's attention. Stan began to stir, pressing his eyes together tightly, burying his face further into Bill's shoulder, shifting to press into his neck. His body straightened outta press their chests together. "Stan it's s-seven o'clock. I have to g-go." Stan shook his head, curls hitting Bill's cheeks.

The latter laughs, brushing Stan's hair back until he forced himself from his hiding spot, offering Bill a frown. "Yeah?" He blinks, the darkness around them making it easier for his eyes to adjust to his surroundings. The glow of the television allows Stan to see Bill's face and the frown that formed on his lips as he nods his head. "Nope. You're not allowed."

"I'm n-not allowed?" Bill's frown flips up into a smirk, his eyes reflecting the names of various actors and actresses as they appear on the screen.

"No, you're my new pillow." Stan hooks his arms around Bill's neck, drawing their faces closer together. Bill smiles up at Stan though his heart is racing and he's sure Stan can feel it and is relishing in the fact that he has this control over him. "I haven't slept like that since we were twelve. Bill." He presses their foreheads together and takes in the shocked expression that cast over Bill's face. "Please." Stan pleads, nudging his nose against Bill's and his heart feels ready to explode, afraid to close his eyes. He's scared that he might be dreaming and that if he closes his eyes, he'll open them again and he'll be back in his bedroom and this may never happen.

"Okay." Bill whispers, hesitant to rest his hand on Stan's cheek after raising up. The latter senses the hesitation and spots his hand in his peripheral vision, catching it with his own hand, lowering it to a better place, placing his hand on his waist.

It clicks for Bill in that moment. The boy who barely allowed his own mother to hug him was consenting Bill to touch him in an intimate display of affection. Stan's arms loop back around his neck, pushing his own face closer until their close enough to breath each other in.

Bill takes the final leap of courage to press his lips against Stan's, allowing his eyes to stay open for a few seconds longer right before fluttering closed, more because he was shocked by his own gallantry. Stan let's out a noise of surprise, slipping his arms from behind Bill's head, cupping each of his cheeks firmly, smashing their lips together once again, nipping at Bill's lips fervently.

Every little shift of Stan's hips against his has Bill going mad with desire and he can't help it when his grip tightens on the teen's waist. Stan lets out a gasp between kisses and pushes back viciously, panting when Bill pulls back to litter Stan's own neck with kisses, nipping and biting  and licking. Stan's letting our short, breathy moans above him and Bill smirks against his neck.

He takes his revenge from all of the times that Stan had left him panting and wanting more out on his neck, latching his lips onto the base of his throat and going to work. Stan damns everyone that said Bill's mouth was cursed to never work the way it was meant to at that moment because they obviously had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. His mouth seemed to make up for lack of speech when it came to things like this and he was fucking amazing.

He pulls back to examine his work and smirks to himself. He doesn't have long to admire what he's done because Stan is dragging his mouth back toward his own, ready to take out his frustration on his lips.