Chapter Text
Stan truly felt like a lovesick idiot. No, wait. Correction; he was a lovesick idiot.
The lovesick idiot part wasn’t really a problem in itself, it was actually a quite wonderful feeling. No, the real problem was that he didn’t even know the boy of his affections. They had been in the same schools for almost his whole life, and he knew his name, but other than that there wasn’t much. Now, in college they had some classes together. But Stan was quite sure this boy didn’t even know he existed despite their several years of… coexistence.
Stan had had a hard time coming to terms with his sexuality. He had thought his parents would be angry even though they weren’t as strict Jews as some others in their community. When he was fifteen they had found out Mike had met his first girlfriend, and naturally light teasing had commenced. Girls must be falling over themselves over their handsome son, right? What about that pretty one from the Jewish Community Youth Group he attended on tuesdays? Didn’t she make him feel something? By the time dinner was over Stan was crying.
Later that night, when he had mustered up the courage to explain why he was upset, his mother hugged him tightly and told him she would love him no matter what. His father had stepped out for a minute. For a breather, he had said. When he came back he too had tears in his eyes. He had kissed to top of his son’s head, saying it came as a big surprise, but he would come around to it eventually. He had come around, and occasionally he asked if Stan had met any cute boys. Cue embarrassed blushing and telling his father to please shut up.
A year later he had come out to Mike, because he desperately wanted to talk to someone about it but there was no one else he trusted. Mike had shrugged, saying he suspected it already and was glad Stan felt he could tell him. Stan had walked home that evening with light steps and a big smile on his face.
Now, when he was nineteen and the only romantic encounter he had had was kissing a boy from PE behind the school building one evening he had realised he very much wanted to find out what this whole relationship thing was about. So, per usual, his heart decided he should want the most unavailable person in a hundred mile radius. That’s just how things worked, right? So therefore, Stan was currently pining after one Richard Tozier.
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“You know I could just ask him for you, right?”, Mike said, giving Stan an amused look. They were currently in the library, pretending to study.
“No! No, absolutely not!”, he hissed. “You can’t just ask someone if they’re gay.”
“Why not?”, Mike frowned. “I thought it was better asking than just assuming?”
“Well… You have a point. But that isn’t my point. It’s too suspicious.”
“Stan, I’m gonna be brutally honest with you now. If this guy hasn’t eyed you up and down in the last ten years, he won’t now, just because I ask him if he has a boyfriend.”
“But what if he thinks you’re hitting on him?”
“He won’t. He knows I have a girlfriend.”
“How do you know him? Have you talked?”, Stan squinted slightly at his friend, wondering just when Mike had had the time to share this information with his crush.
“Don’t be jealous, Stan. We worked together on a project. And I can tell you, if you don’t get with him it won’t be a big loss. He’s annoying.”, Mike had a flat look on his face that did nothing to ease the loneliness residing in Stan’s heart.
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Stan spread his jacket on the grass to sit on, making himself comfortable. He had his bird book in his bag and his binoculars in one hand. Time for some quality birdwatching. Just what he needed after a long school day. It was a rather nice spot, one which he came to quite often. Trees, grass, a bird bath set up by some county environmentalist. It was also conveniently close to an open field where a group of friends were currently playing soccer. Stan wasn’t a big fan of ball sports, but it was nice having something else to rest his strained eyes on when they needed a rest from the binoculars.
He pulled out his bird book, a small smile playing on his lips. He sifted through it for a moment before putting the binoculars to his face. A yellow-rumped warbler was squatting on a branch in the closest tree, soon joined by a buddy of the same species. Robins and sparrows ventured back and forth between treetops. Nothing uncommon. At one point two mallards waddled by on a path toward the bird bath.
“Slow day.”, Stan mumbled to himself, putting his binoculars down and picking up his book instead. He thumbed through it, looking at the birds he had marked down as seen, and the ones he had yet to spot. He thought of his father, who almost always joined him for this when he was a child, and his mother, who always asked what new birds they had spotted that day. He missed his parents terribly sometimes, even though they lived only an hour away.
Alarmed shouting penetrated his deep thoughts and he looked up, seeing someone come running his way. He had the time to frown before he was knocked backwards by something striking his face with great force. Blinding pain spread from his nose and outward, followed by a warm wetness.