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As lovely as it was to relax and spend time together, all good things must come to an end. After all, it was starting to get dark and Stanley was beginning to feel a bit tired. He let go of The Narrator’s hand, immediately being met with concern.
“Ah, Stanley? Is everything ok?” The man spoke softly, mildly dazed from sightseeing for so long. It was definitely unusual to see him so… what was the word, small? Content? Whatever it was, Stanley liked it. Smiling, he nodded, pointing up to the sky before tilting his head back towards the building he had come from. The Narrator hummed in acknowledgement, cracking his knuckles and standing up. Despite the displeased look on his face (can’t blame someone who’s feeling sore for the first time ever for being a bit unhappy) he offered his hand to Stanley.
“Well, let’s get going then! I can show you the rest of The Memory Zone some other time. I can’t quite recall what had been so important for me to usher you over anyway.” The Narrator smiled at that, and something told Stanley he did in fact remember, but simply reconsidered his priorities. The thought greatly excited him. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he took his hand, being pulled to a standing position. Well, he was pulled for about half of the way, but Stanley was decently taller than The Narrator, so most of the work had to be done himself. He still didn’t let go of his hand, though; he could stretch later, more important things.
Tugging on his hand to let him know he was ready to go, Stanley led The Narrator back to the wooden room he had come out into when he dropped out of the vent. Oh, right. The vent. Can’t really go back that way, huh? Turning towards The Narrator, Stanley mouthed ‘No exit,’ close enough that it was easier to read his lips than it was to sign. (And maybe he still didn't want to let go of his hand. Whatever.) The Narrator clicked his tongue, mouth twisting into a scowl.
“Ah, right. I suppose I’ll have to reset, then. What a shame, too. I was quite enjoying, um.” The Narrator paused, opening and closing his mouth before continuing. When his face flushed, Stanley was polite enough to pretend not to see it. “Well, it’s alright. Let’s be going.” Coughing embarrassedly, there was no time for Stanley to reassure him about the mutual nature of his feelings before the world went black.
When Stanley found himself standing in front of his desk, his first conscious thought was to look down at his hand, frowning a little bit at the loss of contact. It was just hand holding, yes, but this was also the first contact Stanley had with anything else alive for the past… ever? He grimaced at how lame that made him sound, putting his hand back down to his side. It was fine to enjoy it, why was he being so hard on himself? It’s not like The Narrator seemed to dislike it, after all. Smirking, he turned to finally exit his office, opening the door.
“Ah, there you are, Stanley! Was starting to think you might’ve quit on me, hah.” Standing up quickly from his seat at an empty desk, The Narrator poorly masked his anxiety with impatience. “You should really be quicker on the draw! Hardly the behavior of a good protagonist.” Crossing his arms so he would stop fidgeting, he shook his head in mock disappointment. Stanley scoffed silently, rolling his eyes and putting his hands in his pockets. All he gave was a shrug, smiling lazily at the other. Turns out his smile was infectious, as The Narrator was very bad at keeping a straight face.
“Terrible excuse, Stanley. You can’t even come up with an argument? No better than a child.” The words had no malice behind them despite the diction, The Narrator slowly walking towards Stanley as he spoke. “Now, what would you like to do? I admit, I haven’t exactly thought ahead on this much, but ah… I don’t know. All I can really think of is going through the story, but we always do that. Doesn’t this feel a bit too special for that?” At that, The Narrator looked away, a bit shy about eye contact, ESPECIALLY if he was going to be saying things like that.
Stanley wasn’t having that, though.
With a fond smile, he reached out and placed a hand on The Narrator’s shoulder to get his attention, only snickering a little when the other man jumped in shock. Retracting his hand, Stanley signed ‘I agree, this is special,’ and dropped his hand back for the other to take. The Narrator stammered slightly, giving a wobbly smile as he looked down at his hand, back up at his eyes and back down once more. Finally, he took it, nodding as if he had just decided on something.
“I think I know just the place, Stanley.”
Stanley was not sure this was just the place.
It was rather clear that The Narrator was going for a cargo lift accessible ending, and he couldn’t think of anywhere he would want to be more than the Starry Dome. The Dome itself was amazing, of course, but you couldn’t fault Stanley for feeling a bit woozy when he walked through the red door, despite The Narrator dragging him forward like an excited puppy.
“Yes, Stanley, here we are! Oh, what a lovely room. Here, here! Come to the center with me!” As the lights rose around them, The Narrator gently tugged Stanley down to sit next to him, already distracted by the array of shapes floating in the sky. It did make him feel a bit better to see the other man so happy, but it wasn’t quite enough to hide the anxiety on his face. After a second, The Narrator turned back to say something, words getting caught in his throat when he saw Stanley’s expression.
“Stanley, do you not like it?” The Narrator practically mumbled, worry and a tinge of sorrow lacing his voice. Stanley tried not to feel guilty when he pulled his hand away, quickly shaking his head.
‘It’s nice,’ he signed, ‘just nervous.’ The Narrator raised an eyebrow, silently asking him to continue. Wincing, Stanley only so much as turned his gaze towards the stairs descending down from the platform. This spoke volumes to both of them, and after only a moment of contemplation The Narrator snapped his fingers, the stairs simply gone from where they once were. Gently, he grabbed Stanley’s chin and guided his focus back towards himself.
“Please don’t think I would be so cruel, Stanley. I can simply take us out of here the way we entered, or even just reset. Hell, I could make a whole new room here for us to spend the rest of our lives in!... that is, if you wanted. Though I doubt you could stay in one spot for more than a few minutes, hm?” Chuckling fondly, The Narrator slowly raised his hand, cupping Stanley’s cheek. Leaning very lightly into the touch, Stanley found his worries melting away. Just the lights and The Narrator, things were safe. He was ok here.
Breathing in and then out once more, he nodded, raising his hand to rest over The Narrators. Grinning at the fact that his comforting attempt had indeed worked, he gently rubbed his thumb across Stanley’s cheek. Feeling his face heat up at the tender gesture, the man focused his gaze on The Narrator and signed a timid ‘thank you’ with his free hand. The Narrator shook his head, doing his best to concentrate as much care into his gaze as he could.
“Think nothing of it. I just want you to be happy. That’s what this place always was, after all.” Trailing into silence, Stanley returned his gaze towards the other. Their eyes met, and despite the cliché nature of the situation, it felt worlds beyond anything they could describe. After all, a cliché only becomes as such due to its overused nature. When this is the first time Stanley or The Narrator had experienced something like this, it could only be described as a miracle.
The ambient glow gave The Narrator an almost dreamy look, the whole scene blurring and refocusing as Stanley struggled to focus on anything besides the hand on his face or the face in front of him. Something in the mood shifted, though, and The Narrator’s eyes took a slightly sharper gaze, eyebrows furrowing. Humming under his breath, he shifted ever so slightly closer to Stanley.
“Say, I’m not reading this wrong, am I? Because that would be rather embarrassing.” The Narrator mumbled, voice catching on itself in his throat. “Perhaps a bit disappointing, too.” The words were hardly a whisper, but Stanley caught it. Heart beating faster in his chest, Stanley took a moment to assess where this was going.
It was pretty clear where it was going, actually. But did Stanley want that? It was no secret he and The Narrator were close, not just due to being the only two people here (did The Curator count? Mariella? Somehow, he couldn’t place them on the same level as The Narrator,) but sheerly due to their own bond. Where it was once purely work it turned to rivalry, to a shaky allyship to a lifelong match neither seemed to want to break out of anymore. Not due to complacency, but because they figured out how to make each other happy; following the intended story a good few times in a row, not harping on Stanley as harshly when he wanted to go to the broom closet, and moments like this, where the rules of the story were broken simply to do what seemed to always be The Narrator’s goal, Stanley remembered he had said; to make him happy.
There was no denying it now, Stanley thought with only the slightest amount of pretend disappointment. He was definitely in love with The Narrator.
‘You’re right,’ signed Stanley, albeit a bit clumsily with his hand still over The Narrator’s. Yet, somehow, it felt a bit more personal that way. The Narrator practically beamed at that, eyes shining almost as bright as the lights above them, maybe even moreso.
“Wonderful, because I’ve really been wanting to do this.” Stanley didn’t have to ask what ‘this’ was, heart skipping with anticipation as his eyes already began to shut, trying to force his smile down as The Narrator leaned in close in one swoop and pressed his lips firmly against his. Time stopped around them, or at least that’s how it felt.
To any normal person, this would have been the kind of kiss you would complain to your best friend about later. But for them? Laughing, shakily grabbing onto each other, hardly even able to do anything close to a kiss because they were smiling too wide… this was all they needed. Embarrassed giggles and reassuring kisses filled the room, and if the lights shifted to a pink hue, they were too busy looking into each other’s eyes to notice.
Yeah, this was more than fine.
After who knows how long, they finally calmed down, with Stanley halfway in The Narrator’s lap, foreheads pressed together as they rested comfortably. Stanley’s hands found themselves tangled in The Narrator’s hair, whatever tie was keeping it up previously long since discarded. Twirling the locks around between his fingers, he listened as the other hummed a tune, swaying slightly where he sat. His own arms were wrapped around Stanley, keeping him in place.
Absentmindedly, Stanley fingerspelled ‘I <3 U’ into The Narrator’s back, drawing a high pitched giggle out of the man.
“I ‘heart’ you too, Stanley. Goodness.” The Narrator sighed in a way that could only be described as ‘dreamily’, gently guiding Stanley back so he was sitting up and looking at him. Doing his best to dismiss what remained of his nerves, The Narrator took a deep breath and tried not to look too desperate as he asked;
“Will you be mine, Stanley? My lover?”
For the second time that night, Stanley found himself unable to imagine a universe in which he would say no, and The Narrator found himself drowning in kisses once more.