cynxcism:
c r a i g.Â
â |  â STAN STIRED slightly when he heard his name. He recognized the voice, although his rest hadnât really sobered him up at all and he still had difficulty registering anything. Fucking hell, was the air outside always this cold? He snuggled up closer into Craigâs chest.
â Door? â he repeated, voice muffled by Craigâs clothes. An eye looked out and spotted the object in question. â Oh⌠Okay. Do I need your keys? â
Aw, shit. He canât believe how helpless the shorter ravenette is. He canât believe that Stan passed out in his arms. Another gentle shake once Stan wakes up.Â
âYeah. My keys are in my back pocket.â Unfortunately. Fuck his life. âDonât try anything, Marsh.â Craig will drop him and kick Stan when heâs down.













