ethereal : it oneshots

i miss it (and you)

pairing: stozier, kind of, but not really

tw: alcoholism, relapse 

14 days

"are you coming home tonight, bill?" stanley asked, his voice hoarse and his hands shaking. he heard bill sigh through his nose on the other end of the phone. stanley let out a little sigh himself. he knew what that meant. they had been together long enough.

"no, stanley. i'm sorry." bill responded the way stanley expected him to, apologies. no explanation. never an explanation. it was like this most of the time. to tell the truth, stanley didn't really want to be alone tonight. he really would have appreciated his boyfriend holding him in his arms, telling him it'll be okay.

"okay. i miss you," stanley said, looking down to the ground and swinging his feet, sitting on the couch.

"i'll see you tomorrow m-muh-morning," bill replied, then hanging up the phone. not even an 'i love you' or 'i miss you too' before hanging up. yes, stanley was a little sour about it. the idea that maybe bill did care could've kept stanley hanging on, but here he was. thinking about it.

14 days

he couldn't. he had been doing well! two whole weeks is pretty good, honestly. for stanley. he bit his nails nervously, putting his phone down. his other hand flapped up and down rapidly, trying to distract himself from what he wanted. no one was home. and he needed this! kind of. it would relax him. he'd feel much better after it, right? like sure, he hadn't in the past... but that was the past.

he let out a large sigh, and stood up. taking his nails out of his mouth, he shoved his shaky hands in his pockets. his legs carried him to the kitchen, where he felt himself drooling a little. jesus, he had really let himself go. he wiped it away with the back of his hand, and began opening cupboards rapidly. he scrounged them, knowing bill had some somewhere in the house. he had put it in a spot where 'stanley couldn't find it', but he knew it existed.

no, stanley, you know you c-cuh-cuh-can't have any. stop asking me. it's getting an-nu-n-noying.

stanley continued to look deep into the cupboards, throwing out useless things that stanley didn't recognize. they had a waffle maker? huh. he looked downwards first, crouching to look through all the cabinets. finding nothing, he then looked up, opening cabinets wildly left and right. they banged shut, the fabric protecters having worn off. stanley vaguely remembered peeling them off during an episode. he opened the last cupboard and took out box upon box of tea. bill didn't drink tea. stanley drank tea occasionally. why was there so much tea?

14 days

FINALLY. stanley sighed happily, pulling the bottle out from behind the boxes. he held it close to him, afraid anyone would take it away from him. slowly, he undid the top and began to drink in big gulps, breathing out with pleasure after every drink. yeah, this was what he needed. there was a little part of him feeling a little guilty, but he ignored it. the majority of him was relieved. bill wasn't home to find him, and stanley could do all this without feeling sad. he didn't have to feel sad!

0 days

stanley didn't remember how, but he ended up at richie's door. he hadn't driven, in the morning he would find no car outside, so he must have walked. nonetheless, stanley knocked on richie's door, feeling woozy and wanting someone to share the feeling with. he couldn't share it with bill, anyway. god, what a dipshit.

"stan?" richie raised an eyebrow, breathing in shallowly and immediately understanding. the scent alone ticked off a box, but stan's whole appearance didn't help much either. "stan, oh my god, you relapsed, holy shit, come inside." stan pouted and richie led him in with one arm. richie brought stan to the couch.

"it's okay, i feel amazing! and it was only a little... two cans and a bottle, it's all he had left," stan giggled, richie shaking his head. stan felt his eyes water all of a sudden. "i ruined my progress, didn't i?" stan asked quietly, richie nodding solemnly. stan shoved his hands in his hair, black matted hair pushed back only to fall in front of his face. richie didn't know what to do.

"it's okay, why didn't bill stop you? where is bill?" richie asked delicately, taking stan's hands. stan felt tears roll down his cheeks, and he scoffed.

"bill," stan scoffed again, "is never home. he works late every night. maybe it's work, maybe he's fucking somebody else—hiccup—i don't know and i don't fucking care. he thinks i'm somebody i'm not. i see him in the morning and he kisses me and leaves for the rest of the day. i hate it." stan let out, the tears rolling down at faster rates with every second. richie frowned.

"i'm sorry. you don't deserve that. but if you ever feel like drinking i need you to call me first, okay? please." richie pleaded, squeezing stan's hands. stan nodded subtly, leaning into richie. richie wrapped his arms around stan, who felt like a little kid again, when richie had held him while he cried. when bill had kissed his forehead as a teenager. look at all the good that did him.

0 days.

he couldn't even last longer than two weeks. pathetic. so pathetic.

"and, and progress isn't linear, you are going to get better. i promise." richie must have read stan's mind, and stan felt himself crying more. "i'm sorry you felt like you had to resort to alcohol. you don't." richie mumbled, feeling a little guilty for holding bill's boyfriend in his arms, but bill wasn't home to do it.

and besides, he felt much more guilty when stan turned around in his grip and leaned in, trying to kiss richie. richie held a hand in front of stan, shaking his head no.

"you're still with bill, stan." richie said, stan turning back around and moping.

"i know... but he sucks. i don't want him anymore. i haven't for a while." stan admitted, the alcohol coming out in small burps through his speech. richie sighed again.

"that's understandable, but you're vulnerable right now. you're drunk, and relapsing. i'm here for you, but not like that, okay?" richie thumbed circles on stan's cheeks, smiling sadly.

"okay," stan mumbled back, relaxing his muscles as he leaned further back into richie.

"i'm with you through all of this, stan. 'til the end of the line." richie sighed, stanley closing his eyes and humming.

"goodnight."