Archive of Our Own ^beta

Don't get Stan wrong, he was immensely happy for his friend, but now that he and Bill had gotten together, that meant he had to hold up his end of the deal. Which he was most definitely not ready to do. As Richie jumped into the water with a whoop, Stan's eyes drifted their way over to where Mike was sitting with Beverly.

She was showing him how to make a flower crown. His strong hands were delicate with the dandelions, carefully folding the stems according to Bev's instructions and him smiling as she praised his work. Stan let out a soft sigh and didn't even notice Bill sit down next to him.

"So," Bill spoke and startled Stan out of his reverie, "a certain Trashmouth spilled some beans about you." Stan groaned and rubbed his face with his hands.

"Did he now?" He propped his chin in his hand and looked up at Bill's grinning face. He could smack that grin off if he really wanted to.

"Yep." Bill nodded. "So, how long?" Stan sighed in reply and picked at the grass at his feet.

"I don't know. A while, I guess. He's just got this warmth, you know? I feel safe when I'm around him. Like I don't have to worry so much." Bill nodded along thoughtfully.

"He's handsome too." Bill quipped. Stan groaned again and plopped down onto his back.

"He's so handsome I might die." He lamented. Bill laughed in response and patted Stan's thigh.

"Well you've only got a few days until the end of the week, and you know that if you don't do anything Richie will never let you live it down, so," he stood up a shucked off his shirt, "good luck!" and with that he jumped in after Richie.

The next day Mike asked Stan if he wanted to come over after school and meet some new baby chicks. The combination of Stan’s love for birds and how cute and soft the chicks would be was the basis of the appeal. And of course, Stan couldn’t say no.

As he made his way to the Hanson farm, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the best time to do it. They would be alone, right? Stan would have ample time to find the right moment and tell Mike how he felt. Time, however, was not the problem--courage was.

Stan remembers the first time he felt brave. It was at his bar mitzvah. He had just finished his speech--if you will--and had run outside with Richie, hand-in-hand.

"Oh my god, Stan the Man, that was insane!" Richie laughed. Stan's heart was racing and he felt electricity buzzing through his body. He couldn't believe he'd just done that. Oh god, his parents were going to kill him. He almost worried himself into a tizzy until he saw the way Richie's eyes shone with pride when he grinned at him.

So instead of worrying, Stan let himself feel that same pride. He let Richie tell him all about how awesome what he had just done was, and allowed the feelings of courage and resilience fill his chest like a balloon.

As he came upon the chicken coop and saw Mike inside, Stan tried to conjure up those same feelings again. He could do this.

"Hey, Stan!" Mike greeted as he ducked his way into the coop. Mike was crouched on the ground and in his wide hands was a little fluff of yellow. Stan's eyes widened and his mind went completely blank. It was so cute!

Mike chuckled as he looked up at Stan and saw his look of awe.

"Wanna hold him?" He asked. Stan nodded quickly. He kneeled down next to Mike and held out his hands delicately. His fingers were stiff and straight and Mike set down the chick carefully before bringing his hands up to adjust Stan's.

"Here. You actually want to cup your hands more so that it's not so easy for the chick to fall out." His hands were underneath Stan's helping mould them into the correct form. Stan gulped audibly and prayed that Mike didn't notice.

Stan had always admired how strong Mike's hands were, but he hadn't thought about how soft they could be. They had their callouses from farm work, but his palms were soft. Stan tried not to tremble too much at the contact. He thought about saying something and went to open his mouth, but then Mike was lifting the chick into his hands and his mind went blank again.

He felt the tiny little talons in his palms and the fluff under his fingertips. He carefully lifted the chick up to his eye level to admire his baby feathers up close. He smiled brightly at Mike.

"Look at how cute!" Mike nodded along, letting out a light chuckle.

"I know right! Too bad they don't stay like this." He smiled at the sight in front of him: Stan smiling at the little chick in his hands, the sun peeking in through the window of the coop to set Stan's curls alight. He was beautiful, Mike thought.

"Huh?" Stan's head shot up at Mike, his eyes even bigger than before. Did Stan just hear what he thought he did? Mike matched Stan's deer-in-the-headlights look. He gathered himself and rubbed his hands together.

“Guess I can’t hide it anymore. I like you, Stan. As more than a friend. I love how much care you put into everything and how brave you are. And, like I just blurted out, I think you’re beautiful.”

Stan’s brain short-circuited. Not only did Mike think he was beautiful, but he liked him! Stan had been freaking out this whole time about telling Mike how he felt but never did he think that Mike would say something first!

Stan delicately set down and chick and stood up. Mike followed suit, his hands nervous rubbing the front of his jeans. Stan tentatively reached out to take one hand in his. He knew he should say something but he’d never held Mike’s hand before.

He traced the lines of Mike’s palm delicately and he heard Mike suck in a breath of air through his teeth. Stan’s eyes left Mike’s hand to look up at his flushed face.

“Tickles.” Mike croaked out. Stan grinned and found his voice.

“I like you too, Mike. I was actually going to tell you myself, but you beat me to it. You distracted me with chicks.” He laughed and Mike laughed and the tension settled.

“Would you want to maybe go on a date with me?” Mike asked, turning his hand to lace his fingers through Stan’s. Stan nodded furtively, his grin only growing.

“I’d like that a lot.”