so this is my gift for @surroundedbythelonely for the secret santa organized by @stoziersecretsanta!! my sincerest apologies for the slight delay, i was a little busier than i expected yesterday so i didn’t get a chance to fix it up and post it. anyway, i wanted to do something with some shit-wrecking teenage boys since my favorite personal hc is that stan lowkey goes through a rebellious phase and richie is totally behind him in it lmao. hope you like it!!
@starboystan created the moodboard and also an AMAZING playlist to go along with the fic!! i highly recommend listening to the playlist while you read because it is so fitting. listen to “my very attractive rebel bf” on spotify
stozier / 1.6k words / warnings: both of them smoke weed
“‘Tis the season, motherfucker!” Stan shouts, leaning out the window to gift Henry a middle finger as they skid down the road.
And they cannot stop fucking laughing. It’s almost to the point where it’s getting on Stan’s nerves since his stomach hurts and Richie keeps snorting and Jesus Christ it is so much. But when his head flops to the side and he’s staring at Richie again, when he sees the curve in Richie’s nose and the tiny curls framing his forehead and how his lips look extra full, he presses himself up against the center console, takes Richie’s chin and tries his best to kiss him.
or, richie and stan are stoned, rebellious shit-wrecking boys and hate henry bowers with their entire beings.
Stan is much too dignified to slam his door, but he wouldn’t be lying that it would make him feel a little better.
He’s eighteen now, and he feels like he’s finally at the age where he should be taken a little more seriously in regards to being able to make decisions on his own, though his parents haven’t really understood that. The argument of that night is about his future that continued to crawl near; his father makes sure to emphasize Stan’s “potential” every other sentence when defending his stance about how he should apply to the most prestigious and private universities after graduation and gets particularly pissy when Stan brought up NYU as a first choice. Stan doesn’t know how to tell his father that not everybody in his friend group had an Ivy League-worthy transcript and that he doesn’t want to throw himself into this brand new place all by himself. New York is scary enough even with people you know by your side.
It lasts for all of five minutes before Stan storms off, his father’s voice trailing behind him, and he gently closes his door no matter how violently the desire to scream bubbles in his throat. He leans against the wall, closes his eyes, thinks long and hard about how he should take this night to himself to try and relax, hears something hit his window, and immediately opens his eyes.
He quickly walks over to the other side of the room and slides open the glass, knowing full well who’s standing in his backyard.
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