𝙁𝘼𝙆𝙀. - stozier.

𝑵𝑬𝑼𝑭 ༉‧₊˚✧

tw: 𝑨𝑩𝑼𝑺𝑬, internalized homophobia
oh, stanley for sure felt the wrath of his father as soon as the door was locked. stanley was barely able to take off his shoes before his father was in his face, barking like a vicious dog.
"STANLEY AZRIEL URIS WHAT ON GODDAMN EARTH WERE YOU DOING HOLDING HANDS WITH THAT TOZIER BOY? AFTER ALL THAT IVE TAUGHT YOU? DO YOU NOT FUCKING LISTEN TO ME?"
he began to yell in a mix between hebrew and yiddish, most of which was incoherent to someone who hadn't heard mr uris yell before.
"ARE YOU A FAGGOT STANLEY? ARE YOU?"
"no sir. richie is just my frien-"
before stanley could finish his sentence, however, he was knocked to the ground by a soul-removing slap. stanley could barely even get a breath before his father began full on beating on him.
after more yelling and hitting, his father finally stopped and stood up straight.
"i did not raise a gay son." his father spat, storming out of the house.
stan sat in silence for a while, unmoving. then, he began to sob. his head ached and blood poured from his nose, but he sobbed so hard he forgot where he was for a minute.

his father knew. his father knew he liked boys. and worst of all, he knew what stanley didn't, that he liked the boy with the wild hair and obnoxious glasses.

finally developing the strength, stan rose from the ground and stumbled his way up the stairs. he couldn't possibly let his mother, or any of his friends for that matter, see him like this. after shuffling through the bathroom cabinets, he finally got a good look at what his father had done to him.

he looked absolutely terrible. his bottom lip was swollen and crusted with blood, along with his nose. his cheeks and eyes blossoming into the same shade of purple. he lifted his shirt to reveal his beaten & bruised ribcage, which ached just by looking at them.

he slowly, and painfully, cleaned up his wounds, using a bit of foundation bev had got him for his birthday to cover up his battered eye. when he finished, he slumped his way back through his room before falling to the bed, eyes already leaking once more. for the second time that week, stan wondered why he had to exist.

stan awoke to the sound of his mother knocking on his door, informing him dinner was ready. he made sure to check his appearance once more in the mirror before heading downstairs, only to find it was just his mother who was home.

"where's dad?" stan asked as he sat down at the table, of course placing a napkin on his lap.

"business trip, he called a couple of hours ago. it'll just be us for the week. excited?" his mom chuckled, placing his plate down.

stan didn't say anything out loud, but he was glad he only had to see his mother. he couldn't stand to look his father in the face for a while, or ever again.

{next morning}

that morning, stan woke up earlier than normal during the summer. like at 8:00 early. so, he did what any good fake boyfriend would do, and biked over to richie's house to wake his ass up. mrs. tozier answered the door and, being the fantastic mother she is, began to offer stan something to eat before he went to bother richie. before she could, however, she caught notice of stan's bruises, still slightly tainted by the day-old foundation.

"stan sweetie, what happened to your eye?" she questioned, like the concerned mother she is.

"oh, i was messing around with bill and he accidentally hit me. it's fine though, my mom checked it," stan lied smoothly, which he fucking hated. why was he so good at lying?

"okay darling, just let me know if you need ice or anything," she smiled sweetly.

stan entered the house and clambered the stairs to richie's room, not bothering to knock knowing he'd still be fast asleep. when he entered the room, he took a moment to take in the sight in front of him.