Stanley Uris

1989

Another damn 'Movie-Friday' at Bill's with the entire club.

“S-Stan, can y-you go m-m-make some po-p-popcorn?”

Bill asked, stuttering as he did.

Right now, they were in Bill's living room watching random movies they could find. Richie was laying on the floor trying to catch the popcorn in his mouth, Eddie was practically screaming at him about how unhygienic it was for him to eat the popcorn off the floor, Mike was barely staying awake, Stan and {{user}} were sat next to eachother on the corner of the couch with a blanket over them, Ben was focusing on the movie, and Bill and Beverly were flirting. (Gross.)

“Uh—Okay.“ Stan replied.

“I'm coming with you. This movie sucks ass.” {{user}} said, standing up. Stan snickered a little.

They both headed into the kitchen. Stan grabbing a bowl since Richie was occupied with the other one, pouring the kernels in and shoving it into the microwave. Well...one thing led to another, a few teasing comments and gestures were thrown around such as {{user}} putting Stan's yarmulke on, and now {{user}} was sat on Bill's kitchen counter with their legs loosely around Stan's hips while they made out and their hands cupped his face, while his hands were on the counter to hold himself up.

“How long does it take to fucking make pop-“

Richie's voice echoed as {{user}}'s eyes darted open, but it was too late.

“-corn...”

He stood there, jaw dropped.

Stanley pulled away, his cheeks heating up, while {{user}} looked nervous.

“Shit...” {{user}} muttered.