#stan and richie r bestest of friends

[wolftozier]

stozier is not my main ship but I will always believe stan and richie had their first kiss with each other

[robertspatts]

hiii pls write a fluffy af stozier fic pls

The Card- Stanley Uris x Richie Tozier

AN: Wasn’t sure if this was in reference to platonic or romantic stozier but I wrote platonic bc I feel that shit in my soul

I am so bad at writing dialogue so sorry the ending is so messy

I AM SO SORRY THIS ENDED UP WAY MORE ANGSTY THAN FLUFFY I’LL TRY A MORE FLUFFY ONE NEXT TIME

TW: child abuse/neglect, verbal abuse, domestic violence

Word Count: 1.3k

The echoes of screams bounced off the wall in Richie’s bedroom, as his stepdad shoved his mother, for what he could only guess had been the 10th time tonight. She had been drinking again, Richie knew that, he had stopped trying to wake his mother in the mornings to take him to school, knowing that if he did, her eyes would be glassed-over and dismissive, like she wasn’t even there at all. Richie tried to drown out the noise with a ‘The Cure’ record spinning in the background. It was one of the albums Bill had told him to check out, just as he was leaving for his winter trip…

“GET HIM THE FUCK OUT.” His attention was suddenly snapped back to the screaming occurring downstairs. Richie knew all too well what this meant, his mother had yet again blamed him for her drinking, just to keep that cocksucker around. Richie jolted upwards, looking at the drainpipe outside his window wondering if the pain of climbing down it would hurt more or less than his stepdad slapping him across the cheek. Over the past year, Richie had realised that each slap got more painful, each one reminded him that his mother had chosen this bastard over her only son. Richie grabbed his backpack swiftly, stuffed in a few dirty clothes that he had lying on the ground and climbed out the window, just as he heard the sounds of pounding footsteps coming up the stairs.

*********

It wasn’t the first time that Richie had run away from home, but it was the first time he truly felt he had nowhere to go:

Bill was away on holidays. Beverly never let anyone come over. Ben was busy studying for the SAT’s even though they were more than 6 months away. Mike had scored an internship at a museum in Portland. He couldn’t go to Eddie because… he was afraid of what could come out, if he was that emotionally vulnerable in front of Eddie Kaspbrak, his best friend, that was all he was… Richie constantly tried to remind himself of this.

Then there was Stan, the only one of the Losers who noticed the bruises appearing on Richie’s face about a year ago. He pulled him away quietly and told him that his home was always open, if he needed it. Even though Richie played it off as a joke, telling Stan “I don’t wanna come over and fucking worship the Torah with you”, he appreciated Stanley Uris more than he could ever know.

But he couldn’t go there. The last time he did, Richie stupidly was himself and let out an F-bomb in front of Stan’s mother. Stan hurriedly shushed him as his mother beckoned him to the kitchen. Stan spoke in a hushed voice but Andrea Uris’ voice was as clear as day.

“Do I raise you to hang out with people like… him? His mother drinks herself silly and you can’t walk past that house without hearing yelling, no wonder his father left them. I’m just trying to protect you Stanley, I don’t want you hanging around the wrong sort” Andrea sounded disgusted, which Richie completely understood, his family disgusted him just as much. Richie snuck out of the house while Stan was trying to plead his case to his mother, vowing never to visit Stan’s house again, because the thought of causing an uprising in the Uris household was far too much for him to bear.

Richie came to a stop in the middle of an intersection, realising his train of thought had brought him to the street just before Stanley’s. He cursed his subconscious for dragging him to the one place he promised to never go, but he supposed he needed somewhere to stay and maybe it would be okay, because Stan’s parents would be asleep. He could be gone by morning and his presence wouldn’t bring destruction as it did to every other place he went.

He knocked tentatively on Stan’s door, fearing that Stan wouldn’t want to see him either, after the last incident at his house. Stan swung open the door and immediately pulled him into a hug. Richie hadn’t realised that his cheeks were stained with tears, Stan had always been the most observant of each of the Losers emotions. Richie hadn’t been hugged by Stan since they were in preschool, when they had had a fight over the toys in the sandpit and the teacher demanded they mended it by physical contact. The feeling of Stan’s arms around his tiny body (Stan had an incredible growth spurt over the last year, much to the rest of the Losers’ dismay) caused him to completely break down and sob into his best friend’s chest.

“Oh fuck, Richie,” Stan said, his arms tightening around the boy who called himself trashmouth, watching him empty his soul onto his pyjama shirt.  

“I’m sorry,” Richie sniffed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here, I’m such a fuck up Stan, nobody wants me, I’m going to go, I’m sorry.”

“Richie there’s no way I’m letting you stay outside in the cold, you better come inside or…” Stan paused, trying to think of a way to coax Richie inside. “…or I’ll get all the Losers here to help me comfort you,” he finished, knowing that Richie would rather die than have the rest of the Losers worry about him.

Stan took Richie inside and brought him up to his room, set up a mattress beside his bed and once Richie was comfortable, sat beside him and gave him the cup of hot cocoa he had just made for himself. He tentatively wrapped his arms around his best friend, not knowing what to say just yet. He wanted to be there for him more than anything, but he had been learning something about triggers in his psychology class, and he was feeling more cautious around Richie than he ever had been.

“Am I a bad person Stan?” Richie asked emotionlessly. “I feel like I’m a bad person. All the bad things that happen to me, they must happen for a reason, they must happen because I’m a terrible person, right?”

Stan felt his heart sink. He always prided himself on being the caring friend, the one who people could turn to when they were feeling down, but with Richie, he felt completely lost for words.

“Rich…” Stan paused. “I’ve looked up to you since we were in preschool, when you stood up to Belch Huggins and told him off for stealing my sandwich. You’ve always been the strongest one out of all of us Losers. You don’t always have to be strong, you know that right?”

Stan got up and grabbed a small card from the corner of his dresser.

‘Dear Stan, Thank u for being my bestest friend in the world. I like u because u make me laugh and even though u r a nerd its ok’

Richie laughed, “God, how old was I when I wrote this shit, it’s terrible.”

Stan smiled, “I think it was just before 2nd grade, anyways, I kept it here in my room because I love being your best friend Rich. You can stay here as long as you want okay, it’ll be like an all year sleepover, we can play video games and shit, everything is going to be okay.”

Richie nodded. “Thanks Stanley, you fucking Jew,” he teased.

Stanley rolled his eyes at his trashmouth friend. “Please go to sleep Richie, you look exhausted.”

Stan hopped into bed and looked down at his sleeping friend below him and he noticed that for the first time in a long time, Richie looked at ease. Stan hoped he had given him a place where he was truly wanted.  

Taglist: @january-emb3rs @denbruhh @toshitophchan @richiietozierr @goshdarndiddlyheck @birdbabestan @httpsalien @ri-chietozier