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2018-02-14
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The 5-Step-Plan

Summary:

"If he didn’t do something about his crush now, he’d never do it. And that’s why he’d come up with a plan. A fool-proof, well-thought out 5-Step-Plan that would make Stan fall in love with him."

Notes:

This is my gift for @childrenofthe80s for the Secret Admirer thing on tumblr. I hope they like it.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It was their senior year of high school and Bill Denbrough was tired of pining after Stan Uris. Two years and nothing had happened. Well, he hadn’t made any moves, but neither had Stan so it wasn’t entirely his fault. Besides, admitting to having a crush on one of your best friends was difficult, it could ruin everything and Bill wasn’t going to take that chance.

But now they only had one year left before they were all leaving Derry behind and splitting up to go to college. If he didn’t do something about his crush now, he’d never do it. And that’s why he’d come up with a plan. A fool-proof, well-thought out 5-Step-Plan that would make Stan fall in love with him.

 

Step 1 – Compliments

It was better to start out small to test the waters with this sort of stuff. Bill had decided to put his plan into motion right as the school year began just because that would leave plenty of time for things to go back to normal before graduation if he messed this up, and because he’d probably chicken out if he let too much time pass by.

He hadn’t seen Stan until lunch break that day, when he and Richie sat down at their table. Stan was pointedly ignoring Richie’s jabbering about something that happened in their AP Math class earlier and with his slightly flushed cheeks, his clenched jaw and the way he just stared at his lunch instead of eating it, Bill could immediately tell, he was in a bad mood. Maybe if he had been listening to Richie instead of staring at Stan, he might’ve figured out why, but Stan was wearing a new turtleneck and Bill never knew turtlenecks could be that attractive. It was very distracting.

Now seemed to be a good time to start with Step One. He could cheer Stan up and get the ball rolling at the same time.

“I luh-luh-like your t-t-t-turtlen-n-neck”, Bill said. “It b-brings out your eyes.”

Stan scowled at him. “Fuck off, Bill!”

His smile fell. Well, that was not how he had expected that to go over at all. How had he already messed this up?

Richie burst out laughing and slapped Bill enthusiastically. “You sound just like Mrs Cleveland.”

Like their Math teacher? He’d hoped to get across how beautiful he thought Stan was, he didn’t want to sound like a middle-aged woman telling a kid he was handsome. How was he going to fix this?

“N-…” As soon as he opened his mouth to tell Stan, he was serious, Richie cut him off. “You look so handsome today, Mr Uris”, he gushed in a bad impression of Mrs Cleveland.

“You had to start him of again, didn’t you?”, Stan asked, still glaring at Bill.

“Oh, Stanley”, Richie went on. “You handsome devil!”

“You’re just jealous”, Bev interjected before Stan fled the table or exploded. “Haven’t you been talking about getting into Mrs Cleveland’s pants for months now?”

“Maybe Stan will let you borrow his turtleneck”, Eddie suggested.

Richie wiggled his eyebrows at him. “Is that something you’re into as well, Eds?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“You’re avoiding the question”, Bev pointed out. “Do you have a thing for turtlenecks, Eddie?”

With the conversation more or less steered derailed, lunch went by like always. Even Stan joined in the conversation after a little while, when he wasn’t so tempted to leap across the table and strangle Richie anymore. Only Bill remained quiet. Fine, maybe Step One hadn’t gone over so well, but only because he’d chosen the wrong compliment. He would just do better and his plan was still going to work.

When they all left to go to their next class, Bill took his time to gather his stuff, knowing Stan always was the last one to leave the table. With the others already out of earshot, Bill took a deep breath, hoping his stutter wouldn’t be as bad as earlier.

“I wasn’t t-t-trying to make fun of y-you”, he said.

Stan looked at him for a moment until realization dawned on him and his lips twitched in the anticipation of a smile. “Oh, that.”

“I meant it.” Bill was surprised how steady his voice was, when it felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. “You have very pret-t-t-t-t-… you have n-nice eyes.”

“Okay”, Stan said, his voice laced with held-back laughter. What was so funny about that? Did he still think Bill was taking the piss? Or maybe he just thought Bill was ridiculous. Well, he was only on step 1 of 5, of course Stan wouldn’t fall in love with him over a turtleneck and a comment about his eyes. Not yet.

Bill winked at him confidently, then strode off, happy that he had found a way to fix this. It wouldn’t do to start the plan with a failure, it would put the whole thing in jeopardy.

 


 

Step 2 – Baking

“What are you doing?”

Bill looked over his shoulder to see Georgie had wandered into the kitchen, taking in the mess with a horrified expression.

“Mom is going to freak when she sees this!”

“They won’t be buh-back unt-t-t-til t-tonight.” Their parents had gone to visit some friends out of town and left Bill in charge. Usually that wasn’t a problem, but usually he didn’t decide to bake cookies to woo Stan Uris. Despite following the recipe closely, he was struggling. Baking apparently wasn’t one of his talents.

Georgie came closer to see what he was doing, his eyes lit up when he saw the cookies. “Yum! But why are they all hearts?”

Bill swatted the hand away that tried to steal some raw cookie dough. “They aren’t for you!” But when Georgie pushed his lower lip forward and gave him that irresistible puppy look, he added: “You c-c-c-can ha-have one when they’re d-done.”

“Who are they for?”

His ears felt hot, it was always the ears that gave him away. Bill ignored the question for a bit, while he cut the last few cookies and placed them carefully on the tray. They didn’t look bad either, maybe a little crooked and wonky, but Bill blamed the cookie cutter for that.

“Billy, who are they for?”, Georgie repeated.

It was one thing admitting his crush to himself, but telling Georgie about it? He was going to tell their parents and he really did not want to have a conversation about Stan with them. But they were going to find out in a couple of days when his plan had succeeded anyway and looking at Georgie now gave him an idea. The boy was adorable, everyone loved him and he would need some help with these cookies. The first step had nearly gone wrong because he’d tried to be smooth in front of Stan. In theory that was not a problem, but he hadn’t considered the effect Stan had on him. No, it would be better if he had a little help for the next couple of steps.

“If I tell you, you have t-t-to p-p-p-puh-promise to help me”, he said as he put the tray in the oven.

Georgie looked around the messy kitchen. “Help with what?”

“Del-l-liver them.”

“Oh.” He smiled. “Okay, but I’m not helping you clean the kitchen.”

Damn, he should’ve asked for two favours, cleaning the kitchen wasn’t going to be fun. Bill wasn’t sure how flour had ended up on every surface, but it wouldn’t clean itself up in the same magical way.

“So”, Georgie prompted. He’d jumped on the kitchen table and let his feet dangle in the air. If mom was here now, she’d lecture him about it. “Who is it? Do you have a crush on them? Do you love them? Do you?”

Bill already regretted his decision. “It’s Stan.”

“Stan?”

“Yeah.”

Georgie thought about this for a moment, then nodded. “Stan is nice. He gives me pretty feathers sometimes.”

“He does?” That was the first Bill ever heard of it and he thought if Stan had some nice bird feathers, he’d rather put them in his book than give them to Georgie who wouldn’t appreciate them in the same way.

“Want to see?”

Not waiting for the answer, Georgie had already grabbed his hand and pulled him upstairs to his room. He went straight to his dresser and pulled a neat envelope out of one of the drawers. Georgie had a lot of hiding places all over the house, a new one for all his different treasures, the feathers must mean a lot to him, if he kept them this close by.

Carefully he pulled them out to show Bill. He had to admit they were all really pretty; too pretty for Stan to just give away, but here they were.

“He j-j-just g-gave them to you?”

“You know he likes birds, right?”

Bill laughed a little. “Yes, I’ve no-t-t-t-ticed.”

“I saw him with a bunch of feathers once and then I told him they were cool. Now he just gives them to me when he has some to spare.”

“Since when?”

Georgie shrugged and put the feathers back. Maybe he was scared Bill was going to take them from him. “Don’t know. A long time.”

There were a lot of feathers in the envelope. He hadn’t thought it was possible for him to like Stan even more, but how could he not be head over heels for a boy who shared his treasured trophies with his little brother?

Georgie started to talk excitedly about Stan, that Stan was nice and sometimes funny, but also said weird stuff that Georgie didn’t understand or was very serious just like Dad sometimes and he talked to Bill and the rest of their friends like he didn’t like them, so Georgie had once asked him why they were friends and Stan had admitted that he loved them. This made Bill’s ears burn again. He knew it wasn’t the same kind of love Bill had for him, but it was a start.

“Are you and Stan going to kiss?”

Bill chocked on spit and coughed violently. “What?”

Georgie grinned. “Kiss. Mom and Dad kiss and they are in love.”

“I d-d-don’t know.”

“Do you want to?”

He felt the heat spread to his neck and his cheeks. He’d thought about kissing Stan a lot, caught himself staring at his lips plenty of times, but no way was he going to admit that to his little brother.

While he was trying to think of a way to derail this conversation, he suddenly smelt something. Something was burning.

“Bill?”

“The cookies!”

He stormed down the stairs and into the kitchen – Georgie close behind him – to find it already filled with smoke.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” He opened the oven, grabbed the tray and slammed it on the counter, swearing some more when he burnt his hand.

“Mom always uses the mittens”, Georgie said helpfully as he watched his brother hop through the kitchen, waving his hand around.

He held his hand under cold water, then soaked a towel and wrapped it around it. In the meantime, Georgie had opened the windows and was now accessing what was left of the cookies.

“I should’ve taken one before you burnt them”, he said.

“They’re not that bad, are they?”, Bill asked hopefully. He didn’t have enough ingredients to start on a second batch, not to mention how exhausting it had been. They had to save these or there wouldn’t be any cookies.

Georgie poked at a cookie that had black edges and a very dark brown center. “Maybe we can put icing on them.”

Icing! Georgie was a lifesaver! Of course the cookies would still be gross, but Georgie would just have to tell Stan not to eat them or something.

“You’re the best, Georgie!”

When they were done decorating the cookies, the icing had dried up and Georgie was on his way to deliver them, Bill started to clean the kitchen. This 5-Step-Plan was turning out to be a lot harder than he thought, but despite the obstacles he still felt he was making process. Who wouldn’t like some nice-looking cookies delivered to your door by a smiling Georgie?

 


 

Step 3 - Flowers

When Stan opened the door, and found Georgie outside with a big bouquet of flowers, his first reaction was to roll his eyes. Who knew Bill was such a big coward he’d have to send his brother.

“Hi Georgie”, he said and smiled.

“Hi Stan.” Georgie’s smile showed off all his teeth. The boy was excited, maybe more so than the other day when he had delivered the cookies. “These are for you.”

Stan took the flowers. Now that he got a better look at them, he could tell they weren’t really flowers. Most of them were weeds. Dandelions, Hemlock, Thistles. “Thank you. Did you pick them?”

Georgie shook his head, hopping from one foot to the other. “Bill did. Do you like them?”

Bill picked him weeds. Bill gave him burnt cookies. What was going on? Not to mention that Bill avoided him every time he tried to ask him about the cookies. He was being extremely weird the last few days.

“Yeah”, Stan lied. “They are great.”

“I’ll tell him that!” And then he was off, running down the road and out of sight.

Stan looked at the bouquet in his hands and wondered what to do with them. He couldn’t put them in a vase, could he? They were weeds and weeds didn’t belong in a vase, but they were also a gift and he couldn’t just throw them out.

Still pondering the fade of his weeds, he walked back into his room.

“Would you look at that?”, Richie exclaimed loudly. “Stan the Man got flowers!”

He’d almost forgotten about his friend. They’d been studying together for that upcoming Math test, although Richie had given up 30 minutes ago and started to go through Stan’s bird books instead, giving the birds obnoxious names after it had gotten too boring to just show Stan pictures of different tits and not getting the reaction he wanted.

“Who are they from?”

“They are weeds”, Stan corrected and placed the bouquet on his desk.

“But still pretty”, Richie insisted. “Don’t bully the poor flowers just because they are not up to your high standards.”

Stan sighed. “It’s not that.”

“You don’t like the person they’re from?”

“They’re from Bill.”

Richie looked surprised for only a second and then his expression turned into that special Richie-glee, the one that made Stan’s stomach hurt because it was usually followed by bad ideas. He jumped off the bed and took the bouquet to inspect it further.

“Our Bill? Big Bill Denbrough brings you flowers?”

“Weeds.”

“And there’s no card”, Richie said, disappointed. If there was, Stan would’ve made sure to pocket it before Richie could see. “Did he say anything?”

“He sent Georgie. He’s probably laughing his ass off right now.”

“Why the fuck would he do that?”

With the flowers – weeds – so close to his face again, Stan could feel his eyes start to itch and his nose clogging up, and took a few steps away from Richie. “He gave me fucking dandelions.”

“Good point. Maybe he knows you’re allergic and is trying to kill you.”

Stan was about to point out that it didn’t work that way, that he only wanted to scratch his eyes out when his allergies were really bad, but then he was reminded of the cookies or rather the blackened heart-shaped poison bricks that Bill had disguised as cookies with some nice icing. Stan had almost thrown up when he tried to eat one of them.

“Maybe. He already tried to poison me.”

Richie laughed. “What? How?”

Stan went over to his desk and pulled the box out of the drawer. The cookies still looked nice, he couldn’t just throw them away like that. And they were heart-shaped, whatever that meant. Georgie hadn’t said anything, when he delivered them, just giggled uncontrollably and ran off. He held the box out to Richie, who immediately grabbed a cookie and bit into it before Stan could stop him, not that he really tried.

The result was Richie spitting burnt cookie everywhere and gagging. “What the fuck!”

“Why would you put it in your mouth, you moron? I just told you Bill tried to poison me with them.”

“Yeah, but you’re a dramatic bitch, I thought you were overreacting.”

“I never overreact.”

Richie just gave him a look, then threw the half-eaten cookie back into the box. Well, now he had to throw them out. He wasn’t going to keep anything with Richie’s saliva on it. That was gross.

“Denbrough really doesn’t know how to bake.”

“Or pick flowers.”

“It’s not his fault the two of us got all the brains in the group. And the looks went to Eddie and Bev and Mike and Ben got all the awesome skills. Of course, I’m a combination of all three.”

“You’re a huge dumbass, is what you are.”

Richie smirked. “Defending your boyfriend, Stanley?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“No, no, but he clearly wants to be.”

Stan scoffed. Bill gave him burnt cookies as a prank, gave him a bouquet of weeds that he was allergic to and hadn’t talked to him normally in over a week. Clearly, he was not trying to be his boyfriend. Whatever he was up to, Stan was getting sick of it. What did he ever do to Bill for him to pull stuff like this?

“If he wanted to be my boyfriend, he could just ask.”

Richie slung an arm around his shoulders. “I know that. You know that. The rest of the worldknows that. But Bill? Bill knows nothing.”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

“Or because someone is really bad at showing his affection. I mean, it took me fucking ages to get you to admit you love me.”

“I never said that.” Stan crossed his arms, but didn’t shove Richie off him.

“You didn’t? Must’ve been your Mom then.”

Now he pushed him away. “Richie!”

He snickered and started to grab his stuff. “I’m leaving. I’m all studied out.”

“I bet. Opening your book for ten minutes must’ve been exhausting.”

Richie did finger guns at him. “You know it!”

Why were all his friends such dumbasses. He waited until he heard the front door slam, then grabbed the bouquet on his desk and crept downstairs again. No matter what Bill’s intentions were, he still went out and handpicked him flowers. Stan filled a glass with water – not a vase, vases were for actual flowers – and put the bouquet on his desk, far enough away from him that his allergies wouldn’t bother him too badly.

 


 

Step 4 – The Mixtape

Maybe Richie finding out about his plan wasn’t such a bad thing. When he had shown up the other day, questioning him about the cookies and the flowers, Bill had wanted to die, but Richie had been very supportive of his 5-Step-Plan, even called it a genius idea.

They were currently sat in Richie’s room to work on Step 4. Bill had known he wanted to make Stan a mixtape from the beginning, but he had never actually made one before while Richie made them all the time.

“You want it to be all love songs? I still think you should put Can’t Touch This on there. It’s a good song.”

“But he can t-touch this”, Bill said, rolling his eyes. “That’s the whole p-p-p-point.”

Richie smirked. “And I thought you were trying to win his heart not just get into his pants. If that’s the case, I have some other songs for you.”

Bill grabbed his arm to stop Richie from crawling back to his collection of tapes and records and shook his head no. As much as Richie would love that, he wasn’t going to put any weird or sleazy sexual songs on the tape. How was he going to face Stan if he did?

“Aw, just when this was getting fun.”

“Alright and when I’m d-d-done with the so-songs? I want to say someth-th-th-th-thing at the end.”

“Like what? A love confession? You should try it on me first, just so you know it doesn’t suck.”

“How about no?” It was bad enough he had to sit through Richie’s teasing to get this mix done, he wasn’t going to make it worse by telling him how he felt about Stan. He was never going to live that down. He’d just have to make sure Stan never showed anyone the tape afterwards or maybe steal it back and burn it when the plan was done.

Richie sighed. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me when he doesn’t fall for your lukewarm confession.” He got up from the floor, walked to his closet and produced a microphone from its depths. Bill didn’t really want to know how he found anything in there or what other stuff he kept in it. “This should work. You just plug it into your recorder and pour your heart out.”

“Why do you have that?”

Instead of answering, Richie turned his radio on, sorted through a few tapes and put one in. Bill immediately regretted asking, when he heard one of Richie’s voices coming through the speaker. It was some sort of routine full of crude jokes and bad voices and to make it all worse Richie was already laughing his ass off at his own tape.

Quickly Bill gathered the stuff he needed and crammed it into his bag. “I think I’m l-l-l-l-l-luh-… going now.”

“Are you sure you don’t need more help?”, Richie asked, sounding like Bill definitely needed more help. Why would he? The first three steps had gone over more or less great, with Richie’s help he’d only sabotage himself.

“It’s not ruh-rocket science, Richie.”

“Alright, Big Bill.” Still with that annoying, patronizing voice. He probably thought he could come up with a better plan than Bill, but they both knew if this was Richie’s idea, it would involve at least one trip to the ER.

 

It was the third time he opened the door to find Georgie beaming at him. This time he held out a tape to him. It had a pink bow around it and in Bill’s messy handwriting it said Stan’s mix. His eyes lingered on the writing, his heart skipped a beat.

“Aren’t you tired of playing the delivery boy?”, he asked, hoping he sounded at least somewhat unimpressed.

Georgie shook his head. “It’s the last one.”

“It is?” His stomach sank.

These gifts or whatever weren’t the best and maybe Bill was making fun of him, but he still liked getting the attention. He wondered what he’d have to endure this time; a tape full of awful rap, obnoxiously loud metal? Bill would like the irony of wrapping that suffering with a pink bow.

“Bill says he only needs me until step four.”

“Step four?”

The smile fell from Georgie’s face. This was clearly something he wasn’t supposed to tell him, but before Stan could grab him and try to pry some more information for him, he had turned around and sprinted away.

Step four? How many steps would he have to endure? What the hell was Bill up to? And if this was step four, he must’ve clearly missed one of the steps. Burnt cookies, bouquet of weeds and ominous mixtape only made three. Maybe it was for the best, he’d missed it.

He headed to his room and put the tape into his radio with the volume turned low, but he still hovered his finger over the eject button just in case it was as bad as he feared. To his surprise it wasn’t. He still waited two whole songs until he turned the volume up and laid on his bed to really listen to the songs. The theme wasn’t hard to grasp and with every new love song that followed, Stan felt his cheeks burn hotter and his heart grow.

Maybe Richie hadn’t been so wrong after all. Maybe all this weird stuff was just Bill’s way of telling him he liked him. Looking back on it, it was very Bill to get so excited about giving him flowers he’d forget about Stan’s dandelion allergy. And he could picture Bill in his kitchen, taking his time to cut the cookies into semi-perfect hearts only to forget all about them once they were in the oven. His boy was an idiot, but Stan loved him anyway.

When the songs ended and Bill’s voice came through the speakers, Stan waited with baited breath. “Stan. I don’t ruh-ruh-really know how t-to t-t-t-tell you this. Obviousl-l-ly. If I knew I w-w-wouldn’t have to c-c-come up with this who-…”

He waited for another five seconds, but no. The tape had definitely ended. “For fucks sake, Bill”, Stan sighed, as he scrambled towards the radio and switched sides. Nothing. Seriously? Although he could imagine what Bill had wanted to say, he couldn’t help being a little angry. He finally liked him back and then Stan was robbed of hearing the actual confession. His boy was such an idiot.

 


 

Step 5 - Birdwatching

He pushed up his sleeve to look at his watch. Twenty minutes late. That was very unlike Stan and by now Bill was losing confidence in his plan. Maybe Stan hadn’t even bothered listening to the tape. Or worse, he listened to it and just didn’t like him back and wouldn’t show up.

Standing in the middle of the park with people giving him weird or pitying looks, was definitely not how he had hoped to spend his Sunday afternoon. It was far from the grand finale, he’d pictured.

How was this happening? He’d thought avoiding directly talking to Stan while his plan was in action would make it easier to follow through with it, but maybe that had been a mistake? Fuck! He’d made a complete ass out of himself and for what? He’d probably made Stan uncomfortable and ruined their friendship and the whole dynamic of the group. The last few months together were supposed to be amazing and now he’d gone and made them awkward.

He waited another ten minutes before he slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking home. A small part of him was angry too. Stan could at least have shown up and told him he wasn’t interested, instead of making him wait out here like an idiot.  

Wallowing in his self-pity, Bill didn’t pay attention to where he was going and bumped into someone right as he was leaving the park. He mumbled a quick “sorry” as he pushed past them without looking up.

“Bill?”

He froze. Why was he here now? He was over 30 minutes late and Stan was never late. Bill was about to tell him that, let his anger about being stood up out, but when he turned around and saw Stan with his rosy cheeks, the easy smile, the curls shining golden in the warm afternoon sun, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“What are you doing here?”

Bill’s brows knitted together. So he really hadn’t listened to the tape. He’d probably already thrown it out or left it to gather dust somewhere. It hurt, and it brought his anger back. When someone made you a mixtape you at least listened to it once. That was just common decency.

“Waiting f-f-f-for you”, he said shortly. His words slapped the smile right off Stan’s face. “You didn’t luh-listen to my tape, did you?”

Stan pushed a hand in his jacket to pull out a tape player – Bill only noticed the headphones around his neck now – and popped it open. “You mean this tape?”

He had listened to it. He was carrying it around with him. He was… he was smiling again. But why hadn’t he come then? Bill didn’t know if he should be happy or not.

“You know, I was wondering what you were trying to say at the end.” Stan took the headphones from around his neck and pushed them onto Bill’s ears. “Here, have a listen and help me out, yeah?”

Before he could protest – because like hell was he listening to his embarrassing rambling in front of Stan when he couldn’t even get himself to listen to it again after he’d made the tape – Stan had pressed the play button and he heard the last few chords of I Drove All Night and then his own voice. He didn’t like the expectant look on Stan’s face or the grin, as if he was waiting for Bill to get the joke.

His toes curled at the sound of his awful stuttering and then his stomach dropped, when he realized what Stan thought was so funny. Nothing he had said was on here. The tape was over and he’d spilled his guts to his empty bedroom. How had this happened? How could he be so stupid? He could almost hear himself telling Richie that recording a tape wasn’t rocket science and wanted to smack himself.

When Stan took the headphones off him, he was giggling. “See why I had some difficulties? I think I get the gist of it, but I wouldn’t mind hearing the whole thing.”

“I d-don’t remember”, he mumbled, keeping his head down and staring at his feet.

Stan ducked his head so he could look Bill in the eyes and his dimpled grin, made Bill’s ears burn a brighter red. “Don’t be like that, just because you forgot tapes have two sides to record stuff on.”

Bill took a deep breath, decided not to be an idiot this time and just tell Stan the best way he could. And that didn’t involve any words. He grabbed him by his collar, pulled him closer and pressed his lips to Stan’s. For a horrible second he felt Stan freeze, but then there were hands on his hips and soft lips moving against his own. Holy shit, he was actually kissing Stan and Stan was kissing back! And he hadn’t even completed his 5-step-plan.

They had to part for air, but remained standing in each other’s space, noses brushing together, the taste of Stan’s breath on his lips.

“That works too”, Stan said. Bill noticed he still had his eyes closed. “I still have a lot of questions though.”

About what? He thought the kiss was all the answer he needed. “I love you.”

Stan’s eyes fluttered open then. “I know”, he whispered against Bill’s lips, connecting them in another kiss. This one didn’t last nearly as long, as Bill couldn’t stop smiling. Stan looked mildly annoyed, when he pulled away. “What?”

“I can’t be-l-l-lieve you just Han Solo’d me.”

“I’m not saying it back until you explain yourself. Richie had me half-convinced you were trying to kill me.”

“What? Why?”

Stan rolled his eyes, but he was still wearing that fond smile and that was all Bill chose to see. He did that. Why would he want to kill him? How could any part of his plan be misinterpreted that badly?

“You gave me inedible cookies and disguised them with frosting.”

Bill burst out laughing. “I blame Georgie f-f-f-for that. He was sup-p-p-p-puh-puh-posed to tell you not to eat them.”

“He didn’t.” For a moment he thought Stan was actually mad about it, but then he cracked into a huge grin. “But I got to watch Richie try one. That was fun.”

Bill would’ve loved to see that, and technically it was Stan’s own fault his cookies got burnt. If he hadn’t been such a sweetheart with Georgie, it wouldn’t have distracted Bill from his baking. He chose to forget his mom’s lecture about how stupid it was to turn up the heat to make the cookies bake faster.

“And have you ever been to an actual flower shop?”

“What’s wrong with the flowers? I p-picked them myself near M-m-m-mike’s farm.”

“You put dandelions in the bouquet”, Stan said, but he didn’t sound as sarcastic anymore. He reached out and pushed a strand of Bill’s hair out of his face. Bill leaned into the touch, hoping he’d leave his hand there. “I’m allergic to dandelions.”

Oh shit! He’d completely forgotten about that, he’d just thought the bright yellow went well with the purple, prickly flowers. Yeah, maybe he didn’t know a lot about flowers, but what was there to know except they were pretty?

“Oh no, I’m s-s-sorry!”

“Richie thought it was hilarious.”

“I can’t believe my ent-t-t-t-tire plan failed.”

“What plan?”

And then he told him about the brilliant but poorly executed 5-Step-Plan and tried not to be too offended when Stan laughed at him, but how could he, when he was all dimples and shiny eyes?  

Stan leaned in closer, bumping his nose against Bill’s again. “You could’ve just asked me out like a normal person.”  

In hindsight that sounded like a better idea, but how was he supposed to know that Stan would say yes? It wasn’t like the other boy had ever given him any hints that he felt the same way.

“So Step 5 is supposed to be birdwatching?”, Stan asked.

“We can s-s-s-st-still do that if you w-w-want.” He grinned at Stan and proudly pulled the bag of breadcrumbs out from his bag. “We can see them up c-close.”

He’d really thought about how he could make birdwatching special and had the perfect idea. He’d seen other people feed the birds in the park and could just imagine Stan’s delight in handfeeding them. So he didn’t really understand why Stan was looking at him like this.

“Give me your hand!”

“Please, don’t do that”, Stan said, trying to grab the bag from him, but Bill quickly held it over his head and out of Stan’s reach.

“It’s g-gonna be fun!”

“Bill!” Stan jumped and manage to grab the bag. “Don’t!”

He really didn’t understand what Stan’s problem was. It would be great to have all the tiny birds on their hands and shoulders. If he hadn’t forgotten his camera, he could’ve taken pictures of them too. Not willing to give up on Step 5 completely, he pulled the bag towards himself with such momentum that he not only yanked it free of Stan’s grip, but it slipped through his own fingers.

Both boys watched as the bag flew into the air above them, turned upside down and dumped breadcrumbs all over them. It only took a few seconds for every bird in the vicinity to notice and dive at them. When the first pigeon landed on his head, small talons digging into his scalp, and nipped at him, Bill started to understand why Stan had been so opposed to this.

“Bill! What the fuck?!”

Although he felt like the birds – mostly fat pigeons – were trying to eat his skin rather than the bread, Bill couldn’t hold back his laughter, when he saw Stan in the same situation. For someone who loved birds so much, he looked almost terrified, his arms and back completely stiff as he waited for the birds to leave again. Bill didn’t dare move either, what if they got aggressive and decided his eyes were a better snack or if he accidentally hurt one right in front of Stan? No, better wait this out.

It turned out being eaten alive by birds wasn’t even the worst thing that could happen. Bill had to admit how big of a mistake this was, when he felt something hot and wet drip down his cheek; he only needed to see Stan’s sardonic smile to know he did indeed have bird poop all over his face.

“I take it back”, Stan said, barely moving his lips to speak. “Don’t ask me out on a date if this is what you come up with.”

“I d-d-didn’t know this was g-gonna happen”, he said, also making sure to move his lips as little as possible. He didn’t want bird poop in his mouth.

“You could’ve listened to me.”

He wasn’t too worried about Stan actually following through with his words, he’d just come up with something better the next time. That shouldn’t be too difficult.

When the birds finally left them alone, he wasn’t the only one covered in feathers and poo. There were tiny red scratches on Stan’s neck where a bird had been particularly keen, Bill had never related more to an animal.

Stan looked at Bill with an unreadable expression, then shook his head and started walking away. “I hate you.”

Bill had to run a little to catch up to him. He was still sure Stan was just being Stan until he reached for his arm and Stan pulled away from him. “Come on”, he pleaded. “I’m s-sorry.”

Was this really all it took for Stan to change his mind? Had he already ruined his chance?

“You’re dirty”, Stan said simply. “We both are.”

“I can fix this! Stan, p-p-please.”

Stan stopped abruptly, the annoyance was still etched into all his features, but his eyes were soft. “Don’t be stupid, Bill. I’m going home to change and so are you and then you’ll meet me at the Aladdin for a proper date, yeah?”

His voice lost a bit of its confidence at the end there, it made Bill smile even bigger. Maybe – just maybe – he had been a little bit dumb through this whole ordeal, but could anyone blame him for freaking out just now? He’d just experienced what it was like to kiss Stan and he didn’t know if he could continue his life without ever doing it again.

“Yeah. That s-s-s-sounds g-great.”

He leaned in to steal another kiss before they had to part ways, but Stan stepped away again.

“You literally have bird shit all over your face!”

So did he and Bill didn’t care! It wasn’t on their lips. It was fine. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince Stan, so he pouted at him instead. Denying kisses was cruel.

Before he walked away, Stan squeezed his hand. “Later”, he promised.

Notes:

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