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Stanley started, realizing Jake had stopped babbling. Jake's eyes were closed; dried blood the only color in his face. He'd also stopped shivering, and Stanley tried to remember if that was a good thing.
He didn't think so.
"Jake? Wake up, buddy!"
No response. A little desperate, Stanley peered down the road they'd come: it was as empty of life as ever since Mimi jogged out of sight.
He couldn't allow Jake to sleep. If he did... Jake would never wake again. He had to do something.
Without thinking, Stanley lowered his head and pressed his lips against Jake's. They were icy, but in moments, they warmed, and Jake twitched, responding instinctively.
Stanley pulled back. "Wakey, wakey." At the sound of his voice, Jake's eyes flew open, the expression in them startled, shocked—and wide awake.
"Wha—?"
Stanley grinned. "Figured that'd get your attention. Stay with me now, 'kay?"
Jake mumbled something Stanley didn't catch, but the words didn't matter. As long as Jake talked, he lived.
Stanley settled them more comfortably, pulling Jake close to share body heat. He'd never tell anyone, would die first, but as far as kisses went? That hadn't been half-bad, all things considered.