Archive of Our Own

" STANLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY, STANLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY."

A normal person would feel shame with how pathetic the whines sounded.

Narrator, however, didn't care in the slightest.

Not when he was calling his husband.

"STANLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY"

And there he was.

Stanley came over, still fixing his tie with a toast in his mouth and raised his eyebrows questioningly in the direction of the laying man.

"Stanley come over here, I need you as a witness."

Stanley took his hand from the tie and helped himself take another bite of the toast. He tapped the glass of his wrist watch and then helped himself stand properly in the doorframe to their bedroom.

"Stanley, you are already late! Work can wait, I need you to help me with something very important."

Stanley looked at the time - true, maybe it was already 5 minutes since the time he was supposed to be already in the office but his workplace wasn't that strict on his lateness - and by not strict, it just meant he had to stay a bit overtime.

That wouldn't be a problem if not for the fact that Narry seemed to have gotten sick one or two days ago.

It started small, with him just saying that he had a headache, some sneezes here and there but this morning, the man didn't hold Stanley as he usually did in sleep.

That was the proof Stanley needed to tell that his lover had catched a cold.

"Stanley don't just stand there, I don't have much time left on this Earth"

Stanley was brought back from his little flashback section and, he  wanted to talk back but with the toast in his mouth, he wouldn't be able to sign properly.

So, he did what any normal person would do.

He put the toast under his armrest and started singing.

'A witness?'

But Narrator couldn't answer, being too focused on what had just occurred.

His eyes, wide open, shoot back at Stanley's face.

"Don't tell me you put tuna paste on it."

Stanley grinned.

"Oh my gosh. STANLEY, I AM ALREADY SEEING THE LIGHT IN THE TUNNEL AND ASKING YOU TO BE MY WITNESS FOR MY TESTAMENT AND YOU COME HERE TO FINISH ME OFF??"

'Don't you need two witnesses for that?'

"....

My vision is blurred so I see you double so it's okay."

'It's double because your glasses are dirty,you silly goose.'

Narrator took the glasses off and felt the cloth fall off from them. He picked it up and started a proper cleaning process.

"Here I am, sick, stuck in this bed because I'm too tired to move and the man of my life just threw a rug on me and stained his shirt beyond repair. Truly, this is a proper ending to the life of the great Narrator."

He put on the glasses and instantly stared at the stain, grabbing Stanley by his shirt and getting him to move closer in.

" Ugh I can't feel the smell but I'm sure this stinks like fish! Stanley, that's just ridiculous, I asked you to be my witness, not for me to be a witness of your crimes! Just like the fact you brush your teeth BEFORE breakfast??? What a psycho would do such a-"

Narrator blinked as he saw how Stanley's face was still so close after that surprise kiss.

'Don't worry, Mister Drinking Milk Straight From The Bottle When He Thinks Nobody Sees Him.'

"...Stankey I told you to forget about that accident, I was just thirsty and all glasses were dirty and I just was too tired to clean them."

Stanley grinned.

'I didn't forget the bucket accident too.

"N o."

' And I didn't forget how you sniffed my shirt on our first date. '

"S t a n l e y,  have some mercy." 

'We are partners in crime, if you like it or not.'

They stared at each other with small gaps, not daring to blink before the first one would break.

This time however, it was Narry's time to give a surprise kiss.

That made Stanley start to silently giggle and sit down on the floor, his arms resting on the bed sheet covering Narrator's legs. 

"OK ok Stanley but, you do have to sign the papers."

'What papers.'

"The testament! Have you forgotten???"

Stanley noticed the paper on the bed and picked it up and started to read it.

['THE TESTAMENT

I, The Narrator, leave all my stuff to Stanley, my lover, my peanie boo, Stanley please take out the trash when you'd go but also please don't leave me I'm sick just take a leave from work or something I need you, oh and also if this is the end, delete the SECRET folder and don't look inside it please.

Yours sincerely,

The Narrator

Sign here:] 

'I already know what's in the folder'

".... Stanley."

'I told you, partner in crime.'

"Stanley, I can explain."

'I can't believe you scanned all of my childhood photos.'

"Oh I think I got a fever."

'That's called embarrassment!'

"No, I think it's called kicking the bucket."

Stanley stood up.

'YOU KICKED BUCKY??'

"NO I DID NOT IT'S A FIGURE OF SPEECH"

'I'M CALLING THE POLICE, JAIL, JAIL FOR YOUR CRIMES'

"STANLEY NO I NEVER HURT THAT FORSAKEN THING PLEASE BABY DOLL"

'DON'T BABY DOLL ME!! I KNEW HE HAD BEEN HAVING WORSE DAYS!! YOU KICKED OUR BABY!'

"STANLEY PLEASE MY VOICE IS DYING STOP MOVING YOUR HANDS THIS MUCH"

Stanley dropped his hands and left them on his hips. He then proceeded to fakely weep and arched his back while putting one of the hands on his forehead.

"Stanley I love our baby, even if it's here only due to your weird obsession with me just getting a home accessory. Though, I gotta say, your attempts to make me jealous are getting more and more successful and I feel like I'm joining the madness club you're the chief of.

Now, please do accept the testament by signing it"

Stanley was already holding the paper and took out a pen from his pants pocket and went over to the wall to use it as support to write on it.

He then handed the paper to Narry who seemed overjoyed, until he saw the last part and looked back at Stanley.

"What do you mean, 'no, heart emoji' !!"

Narrator shook his hand with the paper and then straightened his arms towards Stanley and pointed at Stanley's writing.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!!"

Stanley took the paper from Narrator’s hands, put them down on the bedsheet while leaving the 'testament' on the nightstand. He kissed Narrator in the forehead and then stared at the man.

'You really seem like you're burning.'

"Of course I am! What, you think your funny gremlin mode had any effect on me anymore??"

'No'

Narrator's face expression dropped and he looked at his hands, just to return to Stanley.

"No?" he said, softly.

And Stanley once again was on the bed, laughing.

"Stanley, you are making the fever worse, get- OFF!" Narrator said as he tried to push Stanley off his legs. Stanley though indulged himself in the moment and tried to become the most unmovable object on Earth.

That didn't work when he heard Narrator whine.

He quickly took off his hands and went to check how Narrator was-

only to be welcomed by the shit eating grin.

"I knew you would do that if I used my charm."

'Manipulation.'

"Persuasion really but, I still think you mis-signed 'charm' . Now, please, could you get the thermometer? It's in the higher drawer - I want to check how much time I have left before I dissolve."

Stanley opened the drawer and saw a glass tube with the device in it. He took it out and moved the collar of Narry's long pyjama to easily put it under his armpit. 

During the minute of wait, he quickly finished off the toast and went to the bathroom to try to clean off the stain. But well, it didn't work really so, he returned to their bedroom with a huge wet spot on his side.

Narrator was laying in bed with his eyes closed, seeming to doze off. 

But, he quickly opened them as he felt Stanley's hand getting under his clothes.

Stanley looked at the thermometer and rotated it slightly in his hand, squinting at the device. He then took his phone out and started typing something.

"Stanley."

Stanley didn't look at him.

"Stanley, is it really the end?"

Stanley sat down on the bed and left the thermometer on the stand as he put a thumb on his mouth.

"Stanley, tell me-"

'I am trying to break the code.'

Narrator blinked.

And then blinked again.

"Stanley, I know you and your young pals might not know these non-electronic thermometers but it's fairly simple. Every tenth line, there is a number stating what temperature it is."

'But this means you are a corpse.'

Narrator blinked again.

And then opened his eyes wide.

"STANLEY, THIS IS CELSIUS NOT FAHRENHEIT"

Stanley looked at Narrator, then at the thermometer, and then back at his husband, making an 'ooooooh' expression.

"STANLEY HAND ME THAT-" Narrator took the thermometer from Stanley and squinted his eyes.

"Stanley you absolute dingus, this says I have 37.5 Celsius which is uh, like, 99 Fahrenheit or something, this is a bit below fever level but I am NOT a corpse!! You won't get rid of me this easily!"

Stanley felt the thermometer hit his arm softly.

'Awww man'

"This is ridiculous, I am a hot piece of an ass, what did you think???? That I would have a thermometer for what, how cold the water is???"

'You have a lot of different things you research for your writing so I wouldn't be surprised.'

"Why would I ask you then to use it on me!"

'Because you have a cold heart?'

Narrator moved his hand with the index finger in the air but, he shook his head and kicked Stanley on his lap.

"Mean! Mean to me, The Narrator, The Best Husband Of 2022, The MaleWife of the Internet, me!!! How dare you!"

He then swooped his other leg and hit Stanley so much, the man fell from the bed.

Narrator quickly bent over the bedframe to check if Stanley was ok.

Yeah, that shit eating grin meant he didn't kick him strong enough.

He watched how Stanley checked the time.

It was LA:TE o'clock.

Stanley quickly stood up and cupped Narrator's cheeks, softly pressing his lips on his forehead. As he tried to move further, Narrator stopped him by putting his hands on the other man's wrists.

"Don't go." Narrator said, softly.

"You, you are already late, you can just, I can ask my bud to give you a sick leave note, please, don't go."

Stanley weakly smiled and pressed his lips once again, this time for a bit longer.

As he retracted his head, Narrator's grip disappeared.

'I will be back in a few hours.'

"I know. But I want you by my side."

'Aw, would you miss my Celcius not knowing ass?'

"I miss you everyday, Stanley, every time you have to go, every time you fall asleep, every time you have to get out somewhere."

Stanley kissed the forehead one last time.

'Do you want anything from town? I can buy something on the way back home.'

Stanley felt his heartbreak as he saw that Narrator was holding his tears back, just like he was gripping on the bedsheet. He only shook his head and didn't dare to look at Stanley, knowing full well that he would break if he would have the eye contact.

But, Stanley needed him to see what he was signing so, Narrator let the hand on his chin move it a bit higher.

'I love you. I will have my phone on vibrations so call me if it will get worse, alright?'

Narrator could feel the warm trails forming on his cheeks. He only nodded, not trusting his own voice. 

Yet, he gasped as he felt the hand move away, losing the feel of his partner's warmth.

He watched how Stanley went out of the room and then dropped his head as he couldn't see his lover anymore.

He closed his eyes and listened to the footsteps getting further and further away.

And then, he didn't hear another one for a while.

Just for them to get closer, closer and close enough so that he looked to his side and saw how Stanley was leaving a glass of water on the stand. He also took out from under his armpit some boxes of medication and with the other hand, put Bucky filled with water on the ground. Then, he put down a rug he had laying on his arm on the bucket's edge.

'I will be back, I promise.'

Stanley offered Narrator a sad smile.

And Narrator only stared back blankly.

He got one last forehead kiss and then-

He realised he heard the entrance door closing.

But then, he heard a ping.

He checked his phone.

[Get well soon, heart emoji! <3] 

Narrator smirked.

Maybe this whole day won't be that bad.

---

OK it was worse.

At first, they kept texting each other and going back and forth, with Stanley making Narrator guess what was the Celcius equivalent of the temperatures he was mentioning. After a while though, they moved over to talk about the Kelvin metric and how in that one, the 37.5 would just be horrible. That though somehow resulted in Narrator's nickname becoming 'The Ice Queen' and then they talked about ice skating and the performance Narrator had seen a few days ago and then, Narrator asked Stanley if he'd like to go skating once Narry would feel better.

And he got no response.

So, he waited for a moment but, seeing that Stanley had seen the message but didn't answer made Narrator wonder if the work got busier.

Yet, he decided to proceed and wrote down the location they could go in, oh and this one had a park nearby, Stanley, I think you'll like it, it has a playground for adults and I'm sure you can't wait to make sandcastles again.

But, no matter how much he wrote, he didn't get any answer back.

Not even a 'seen'.

So, Narrator did what was most logical-

He opened the Reddit app and started writing.

[My (57yM) husband (39yM) left me on my deathbed :( So, I'm exposing his crimes to the world for everybody to see and point at him as he would walk on the road]

He wrote about Stanley's holes obsessions, how he talked to his bucket, how he always felt he had to lick every single pole there was, how he was addicted to drugs and hookers, how he always put two different socks on purpose, how he liked milk with pickles, how no button was left unpressed in his presence, how soft his touch was, how warm his smile was, how lovely he looked in his bed hair, how caring he could be, how he always checked on Narrator when he was working and made him tea and brought blanket if he had fallen asleep, how-

How did all that end up here?

Well, this was not a good call out post, not by a little bit.

He sighed and checked and yeah, Stanley still hadn't read the 27 messages Narrator had left him.

He closed the app and put his phone down, picked up the glass of water and sipped.

Oh, Stanley put lemon juice and some honey in it.

It was probably warm when Stanley left it.

Stanley.

He missed Stanley.

But, it was only two hours since the man left the house and there were at least 6 hours left.

Narrator sighed.

He tried to stand up but, the fatigue from standing up made him fall down.

Yeah, it was probably better to stay in bed.

He tugged himself in again and he reached towards the stand, opening up the middle cupboard and taking out the yellow notebook.

And started writing a story.

'Do you want anything from town?' Stanley asked, with a warm smile on his face.

'Yes', Narrator said, 'you. I want you to come back as soon as possible so I can feel your warm embrace.'

'Oh really?'

'Yes, Stanley, I'm so gay for you, even with the fever I want you to hold me close, gently and never let go.'

Stanley looked at his wristwatch and took it off. He put it on the nightstand and then went around the bed to get on his bed side.

'OK then, I'm back, honey.'

He put his arms around Narrator and kissed his tears away. Narrator started to kiss him and tried to hold him close but, his arms were a bit too weak to do it well.

They fell aslee]

Narrator always said how his words were powerful but, he never really knew how strong of an impact they had on him.

Because it was so strong that, not even finishing writing the word, Narrator drifted away into the dream world where, the story kept going.

He was so deep in the dream that he didn't hear when the entrance door creaked open. 

----

Stanley didn't expect the day to be so hard. One of the department was very short staffed so his own got to work on their tasks which made the day quite a haste.

To make matters worse, he noticed that he didn't take his charger with him and, his phone had only 10% left.

But well, it shouldn't be a problem, should it? Somebody surely had to have the same charger?

The answer is no, no, nobody had the same one.

Fuck you, Apple.

He was in the process of telling Narry that unfortunately he might soon disappear due to the phone dying but, he got called up for a meeting and the next time he checked his phone, it was unresponsive.

He could only imagine how many messages he got. The record was 427, one time when he went on a trip with a colleague - Jim, his best bud - and he was curious if Narrator would ever be able to get above that limit.

But he also hoped Narrator wouldn't be worried too much or, worse yet, wrote another callout post for Stanley.

It wasn't bad, not by any bit - Stanley adored reading how he supposedly couldn't sleep without a pacifier, how he had a favourite blanket that he often put in his bucket to keep it warm, how he had escaped from prison, oh and his favorite thst he suggested Narrator - how he yeeted a baby into a fire.

It was so funny, Stanley loved reading through them and all the comments people left on Narrator's posts and sometimes even ghost wrote some, adoring how much the people kept saying 'op are you ok'.

But Narrator could have also been worried if something have happened to Stanley and that wasn't a good thing to come back to, especially knowing how much anxiety exhausted the man.

So, Stanley first left the groceries and peeked into the bedroom.

And smiled.

Wow, this man really drooled a lot, huh?

Stanley came over and looked at the sleeping man. He noticed a notebook resting in his lover's hand so, he took it out and put it on the side.

Not wanting to break the man's rest - since he probably needed it a lot, especially since he had been for the past few weeks living on 3 hours of sleep per day (not that Stanley was any better) - Stanley went back to the kitchen and started to take out the groceries.

He had went to pharmacy for some more pills, some compresses, an electronic thermometer that told time both in Celcius and a Fahrenheit and just a few bandages since they had none left.

He then started to take out the stuff from the food bag - mirepoix, chicken wings, ice cream, pickles, milk, parsley, potatoes, tomatoes, and some more and then he finally look at this all and smiled.

Today, he would make chicken soup his momma used to make when he was ill, for his ill lover.

It had been a while since he made some - he himself wasn't often sick and it was the first time in their relationship that he had seen Narrator in such state. Of course, his migraines were quite a problem and they've been getting a bit worse lately and no matter how much Stanley had told him to check it with the doctors, he just didn't want to listen-

Stanley noticed something on the oven's handle.

Something blue.

Something, he had forgotten about for a while.

He came closer and picked up the  clothing and stared at it.

It was the blue apron Narrator had given him when he missed him while Stanley was on a trip.

It seemed that Narrator had washed it off from the last time they used it since Stanley couldn't remember doing so and well, the stains from last usage had to be hand cleaned - oh right he had to later clean of the tuna one he still had on him, he put that on his mental list that surely he won't forget about.

He looked at it and smiled.

And left it on the chair.

He would later put it on so that Narrator could have some nice image to wake up to.

Now, however, it was time to start cooking.

He started with cutting the plastic box open and washing off the chicken wings. He put them in the second to biggest pot they got and poured water in. He cut some thyme and rosemary, crushed the garlic, put turmeric and one cinnamon stick in. 

As he turned the stove on and let the broth get warmer, he got the rubber band off the mirepoix and started to peel off the carrots. He then cut them in pieces and put them in and proceeded to work on onion and celery.

Once everything was in the broil, he put the lid on and started preparing some meals for the next day, just so Narrator could eat something while he would be at work. He cooked rice and prepared a tomato sauce, adding some pieces of carrots that he didn't put in the broth into the mix. 

After a while, he decided that the soup was nearly ready, so it was time for the last part of the cooking process.

Stanley took out the chicken wings and wanted to start to take off the skin to shred them properly but he ended up burning his fingers. So, after some rising with cold water, he took two forks and started to tear apart the meat from the bones and skin. It was a bit hard to manoeuvre like that but, after the third wing, they were cold enough for him to take them in his hands and finish the process.

Once he had the shredded pieces ready, he put them back in the broth and added some lemon juice.

He then tasted it and decided to put some more salt and pepper in and then, during the next 10 minutes, put the pot with rice in a blanket - probably the one from the reddit story since yeah, it kept the warmth quite well and Stanley really liked the texture - and then the sauce in a box and put it in the fridge. 

Stanley then got one bowl out of the dishes cupboard and poured the soup in.

He then searched for a tray but, since he couldn't find it, he just took a flat plate and put the bowl on top of it.

He took out a spoon and tasted it again.

Not exactly like his momma made but, hopefully, it will be good enough.

And if it wouldn't be, Stanley had a secret weapon that he just put on.

He picked up the plate and went to the bedroom. Stanley wanted to put it on the nightstand but, since there was way too many things on it, he put it on the one next to his side of the bed.

When he wanted to clean it though, he forgot about the bucket's existence until he heard a metallic sound and felt his socks getting wet.

Yep, his Ninja Training truly didn't pay off.

---

Narrator woke up to a way too loud sound to his right. At first, it didn't exactly register what exactly was it but he didn't exactly care, when he saw a figure next to him.

A figure, in blue.

As Stanley quickly ran out with a bucket and returned with a mop, Narrator let himself half sit on the bed and stared at the younger man.

Oh, he probably had a fever now. Definitely.

Because there was no way he could have just slept for 6 hours during the day and not hear Stanley come back home. 

And he was right.

He slept for over 9 hours.

That didn't matter really though at the moment.

What did was - Stanley was there.

Stanley had returned home.

Stanley was wearing his gift.

"Gorgeous..."

Stanley stopped mopping the floor and looked at Narrator. He smirked and winked.

'Hi, fever hot stuff.'

"I don't think I have a fever, lemme check"

Narrator reached under his pyjama and took out the thermometer that he had forgotten to put back before.

Yeah, it seemed it was still around the same temperature as before.

"That can't be true, I feel so much warmer now."

'It's because I'm with you.'

"No, I think it's just the heavy bedsheet."

'Nah, it has to be me, look.'

Narrator watched how Stanley made some weird poses with the mop, rotating it, playing with it, later he put the head of it next to his mouth and started to move his lips and jump in place.

"Stanley, you are sploshing the water everywhere! Stop it, this is horrendous! Look at your poor diction! No no no, Stanley, you have to make slow moves, you have to get the viewer in, not just throw them into overstimulation!"

Stanley put the mop back down on the floor and rested one of his knees on the bed to kiss Narrator's forehead.

'I missed you.'

"You didn't, I'm wet too."

'Wow, and you say I am the one who killed romance.'

"Yeah, you did, I have seen it's grave"

'Wow, do graves say who killed the person?'

"Yeah they do"

'So wait, is there a grave saying a gun killed someone'

"No, but there is one that says a bullet did so."

'What about knives, is it them or the blade'

"It's the backstabber that didn't read my messages."

Stanley's smile dropped and, Narrator looked to the side, finally noticing a bowl with a steam slowly dancing in the air.

"... Is, is that for me?" He said and saw that Stanley still didn't smile.

"I, I am sorry, Stanley, I know that you were probably busy or, or something but I really wished you wouldn't just leave without a note."

Stanley stood up and opened the middle drawer. Narrator couldn't see what he was doing until Stanley turned, with a sticky note on his forehead.

[My phone battery died.]

Narrator blinked slowly two times.

"Why- ohhhh, oh, oh the noooote, the, I said note, oh, oh you think you are a funny guy?"

Ah yes.

The smile was finally back.

The shit eating grin one.

'I don't think - I know.'

"You know that I'm lying and that you are very unfunny?"

'Of course, if I had a sense of humour, I wouldn't be able to stand your dried up jokes'

Stanley jumped in one place after getting kicked in the knee.

"Har har har Stanley, I am the comedy master! I am the master of all jokes and, I decreed your ones as the most dry on this whole land, on the planet, so dry that even the Sahara desert seems like an ocean in comparison!"

'Damn, maybe that's why I feel thirsty all the time.'

"No, that's because you forget to hydrate yourself."

'Then, remind me.'

"I do! And then you proceed to take a glass, pour water in, take it to your desk and somehow, I still don't know how, you just forget about it!"

'It's because my memory is overfilled with you.'

The thermometer had to be broken with just how warm Narrator was feeling at that moment.

He looked to the side and pointed at the bowl and then turned his head to face Stanley.

Oh yes, he didn't see the apron for just 3 seconds but he missed that view.

"Stanley."

'Yes, my love?'

Narrator pointed two times at the bowl again. Stanley looked in that direction, clapped his forehead which made the sticky note fall down and went to pick it up.

Once he returned next to the nightstand, he realised -

He had forgotten to clean it up.

He looked at Narrator with puppy eyes and, in the response, he got puppy eyes back.

He blinked two times and, Narrator did so, too.

He looked once again at the nightstand and returned to furiously blinking.

"Ughh fiiiiiine Stanley, I will do it but only because of your charming looks"

Narrator moved a bit to the side and started to move the things around - he left the glass on the floor - huh, ok so this is where the waterfall he heard before resided - he put the medicine packages in the first cupboard and then, he looked at the notebook and then at Stanley.

"You didn't...read, did you?"

Stanley blinked and then, the same grin returned.

He did not read it but, he would adore to see how much he could get out of Narrator.

"...Stanley."

Stanley nodded.

"Wait, does that mean you read it or didn't read."

Stanley nodded again.

"You are playing with me."

Stanley shook his head.

"So you didn't read it."

Stanley started to shake his head, halted, nodded, looked confused and shook it again.

"Stanley, no, please don't add it to the Narrator's Embarrassing Writing Compilation Of The Year, please."

Ohohoho, oh no, Stanley just put the plate down and grabbed onto the notebook.

Their eyes locked.

Oh it was time to fight.

.

.

.

.

"How could you do this to me, Stanley, I'm a sick man, sick man on his death bed, I am so sad, a little scrunchy man, a little old man who can't fight for his own rights, oh you will get cancelled over this, young man."

Stanley though, held his arm up, way too high for Narry to even try to reach.

He then put the other hand on Stanley forehead and moved the other one even further from the man and then realised it was way too far for him to be able to read it.

Damn his long, chicken wing arms.

So, he moved it a bit closer to his face and kept dodging Narrator's kicks as he read through the page.

And then, a deja vu happened.

Narrator got blinded for a second again, this time by the notebook being thrown - softly, but still - at his face.

But soon after, he felt the warm fingertips, softly brushing his skin. 

He opened his eyes to see Stanley's concerned face. 

Narrator furrowed his brows and closed the eyes again, just so Stanley would keep on touching him.

Oh yes, that strategy somehow still worked, since now he felt Stanley kiss the spot he thought the edge of the book hit.

"Stanley I think it's a bit to the left."

So, Stanley kissed a bit to the left.

"Hm no, actually, a bit higher."

And so, Stanley did.

"No no, a bit to the right"

Chu

"No, hm, a bit lower"

Chu

"Now to the left"

Chu

"And now, the whole face-OUCH!"

Stanley bit Narrator on the tip of his nose.

"BITLEY IS BACK! "

'Yes, since here I am, concerned, and you just are using my love to get more kisses.'

"Bitley, but you love me."

'That means I will be putting a kissing limit again.'

"Don't you dare."

'One kiss a month.'

"This goes both ways, you know."

'One kiss a year.'

"I.... if that's what you want, then fine, I guess I will just have to kiss myself"

Narrator smooched his forearm and coughed.

"I don't need your pity."

'Oh sure, says the man that started the day with cries for me.'

"Ok so, one kiss for a century."

'Deal.'

"Deal!"

And then they kissed.

It was a starved kiss, as if they haven't seen each other for weeks, for years, for centuries, but not an open mouthed one. It was just their hands, how they grabbed onto each other, how they just seemed to want to fuse, to never separate.

How Narrator's  hands grasped onto Stanley's neck and tried to get him closer, how Stanley cupped  Narrator's cheeks, playing with the warmed up earlobes, how oh just how they loved each other.

Just, for Narry to start to shake due to the cough. Due to how strong it was, Stanley felt Narrator's forehead hit his face a few times so, he decided to break he kiss while still trying to hold the man's head in place.

After a moment, the coughing stopped while the hold stayed.

They were like this for a while, with Narrator's hands leaving Stanley's back and cupping the hands that held his face.

"I love you." Narrator whispered as he moved his head to feel more of the touch.

"You can't even imagine how much I love you."

Then, after such pure moment, Narrator opened his eyes widely.

"Soup."

Stanley's hands dropped.

He checked the bowl.

It was c o l d.

He facepalmed himself, picked it up and went out of the bedroom.

After of minute of Stanley not being by Narrator's side, another deja vu moment happened.

"STANLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY"

"STANLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY"

Stanley quickly ran over, with spoon in his mouth.

Narrator looked at him with puppy eyes.

"I missed you."

Stanley left him again.

"STANLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY"

Stanley though didn't return for a while, no matter how many times he heard his name being cried out.

He was on mission to bring some warm soup and he just started to heat it up.

After a while, the cries stopped and that made Stanley worry.

So, he ran over once again and saw Narrator writing on his phone.

Ooooooohhhh, callout post tiiiiiiiime.

He came over to the bed and the stare that Narrator shoot at him felt as if it could kill him, if it weren't for the puffy cheeks showing how pouty his babygrill was. 

Stanley tried to look at the man's screen but, Narrator quickly put the phone down on the bedsheet and just tried to look intimidating.

'You look like a kitten.'

Narrator puffed out the air and gasped.

"PARDON YOU????? I look like a LION! I look like the king of the jungle! Not like some small little kitten!!!!"

'That's exactly what a kitten would say.'

"Don't you have a soup to warm up"

'Oh shit'

Stanley ran out to the kitchen.

Fortunately, only some of the soup evaporated which, while was a bit of a loss, was way better than the Milk Accident. 

He poured the fresh portion of the soup and returned to his very needy for attention kitten.

"People really think you are insane."

Stanley smirked and put the plate on the stand.

'What did you say this time?"

"That you poop in shower."

'Damn, truly, this husband of yours is a sick man.'

"I knoooooooow, right? I have no clue how I am still with him"

'Hey, wanna then maybe leave him for some nice piece of art?'

"Oh? For the David?"

'DAVID?'

"Yeah, you know, made by Michelangelo"

'THE TURTLE????'

"No, it was a tortoise."

'Oh no, sorry for misgendering him.'

"Yeah, you better be sorry, you haven't started spoon feeding me the soup."

Stanley look at him, at the bowl, at the spoon, at the still wet spot on the floor, at Narry, at bowl, at his hand, at Narry and then pointed at himself.

"Yes, you, feed me! I am starving Stanley! Here I am, waiting for my Odysseus to come back from his trip and he just keeps on making dumb jokes while his Penelope had been crafting poems about their love!"

'Where are the poems.'

"Stanley, don't focus on that."

'Where are they.'

"Stanley you know I can't write poetry"

'You wrote that one-'

"We don't talk about that one."

'But, my beloved Penelope,

where the fuck are my poems.'

"In spoon-feeding me the soup you made, now, chop chop"

Stanley looked at the bowl again and then at Narry.

'We will spill it, I know it, you know how it ended up last time'

"Oh it won't be that bad, look how- wait.

Wait why is the apron completely clean."

Stanley looked down at it.

'I'm not SUCH a dirty cook.'

"Stanley, you probably still have a tuna stain on your shirt."

'No I don't.'

"Then, raise your arm."

'I don't want to.'

"So it means it is there."

'No, it just means that I don't want to expose my arm to you.'

"...Stanley, are you referencing the ankles thing?"

'When the ladies would show them to the man and they would fall flat due to the stroke they got from all the excitement?'

"Why do you have to describe it that way- and , and your arm is covered! You have a shirt- no, not a shirt, a rug that you just use as a shirt- but like you are clothed! Stanley, we have been married for over 3 years!"

'Only over 3 years?'

"Three years, 7 months, 12 days but who's counting."

Narrator once again made a pouty expression and flapped his arms on the bed.

"I want my soup!! I want to be fed! Stanley! I demand it now!"

'But you'll do the laundry.'

"Stanley, I am sick, I am in my sickbed, I wrote a testament today, you can't do this to me."

'I can and I will, wait.'

Stanley took the sticky notes , turned his back to Narrator, scribbled something and put one on the wall.

[Laundry: Narrator' turn]

'See? You made the rules big guy, not me.'

"Stanley, I watched you write it."

'No.'

"Stanley, this is your handwriting."

'No it's not.'

"Stanislav The Parabola The Third, I declare you guilty of your crimes and your sorry gay ass will be sent to gay baby jail for all this."

'But you will keep visiting me, right?'

"No."

Stanley now pouted, too.

"No I won't since, well if I would expose you, by own crimes would get exposed so we would be put together in the gay baby jail."

And now, Stanley smiled again.

'Partner in crimes, to the grave'

"I'm pretty close there myself so be prepared for my ghost to give the jury all the evidence they need."

'But then you'll be exposed, too'

"What will they do, give me a death penalty? A lifelong sentence?"

'No, they'll put you in ghost baby jail.'

"... No."

'It's right next to the All Clown Circus.'

"N o ."

'And the pizza theme from Spiderman 2 would play on loop, for eternity.'

"Stanley you uncultured swine, the proper name for it is Funiculì, funiculà."

'Funny cool and funny cool a'

"Stanley that's not how you say that"

'But you still understood.'

They stared at each other and laughed.

Stanley finally took the plate and put it on his laps while Narrator opened his mouth wide.

Stanley got some of the broth alone first, put the other hand under the spoon, puffed on the warm liquid and put the spoon in Narrator's mouth. Narrator closed it and stared at Stanley as he swallowed the meal.

But then, he didn't let the spoon leave the mouth, not until Stanley moved his hand away and Narrator had to take it out himself.

"Oh its good, now gimme a carrot." 

Narrator handed Stanley the spoon and soon, some broth with two small carrot pieces where in his mouth.

This time, he let the spoon out easier and asked for some meat.

And so, next spoon had a piece of chicken and a carrot on it.

And so, they kept going, again and again, until finally, there was nothing more to spoon out from the bowl.

Stanley wanted to leave it on the nightstand but halted when Narry talked.

"More."

Stanley looked at the man.

"Gimmie another fill."

And so, soon after, Stanley was back with a freshly filled bowl, spoon feeding Narrator yet again.

Somewhere in the 1/4th of the bowl getting emptied, Narrator shook his head and closed his mouth when Stanley was about to feed him another one.

Stanley put the spoon in the bowl and then left the plate on the nightstand.

'You're full?'

"Mhm"

'So no more spoon feeding?'

"No. Keep going."

Stanley blinked at Narrator.

'But you said you're full'

"Stanley, I'm sick, I haven't seen you for the whole day, I want you to pamper me and care for me and give me love.

So, while I am full, find a way to spoon feed me."

So, Stanley, confused, picked up the spoon, this time without any fill and put it in Narrator's mouth.

"OK this was a bad idea, now I only felt the metal, Stanley i made a mistake."

Stanley looked at the bowl and then at Narrator and smiled.

He picked it up again and left it on the lap and started eating the rest of the soup himself.

He knew that Narrator was staring at him, watching him eat.

After 9th spoon move, he looked to the side and moved the utensil in Narrator's direction, making the man open his mouth wide.

And so, every two or three spoons, Narrator got his own fill, probably going to his 'dessert' stomach.

Stanley left the plate once again on the stand.

'Full?'

"No."

'I know you can't get enough of my love, I meant in the eating department.'

"Oh, yes, very. Thank you Stanley, I hadn't had a chicken soup in ages and, I always enjoy your home cooking"

Stanley smiled and kissed the man's forehead.

And then, he picked up the dishes and went back to the kitchen.

Hearing his name being whine just a minute after he left made him drop the cleaning process and return to the bed.

"Stanley."

'New phone who this.'

"Stanley."

'Sorry, I'm called Thomas, dunno who this Stanley fella is.'

"Stanley Stanley Stanley Stanley Stanley Stanley Stanley Stanley Stanley"

'Yes, love?'

"Hug me."

'Eeeeew but you're sick.'

Narrator gasped.

"Stanley, I am sick, I am on the edge between this and the other word, I also have my birthday today, it's my birthday, you can't do this to a birthday boy, Stanley, I am your husband you have to hug me, that was in your vowes that you will hug me till death do us part"

'Wait, so I don't have to love you all the time?'

"Stanley, come over, I will just give your neck a nice squeeze, not a strangle, no sir, come Stanley, come over, pspspsppsps, Stanley, who is a good boy, oh come on I am here on my knees begging you to hug me, why aren't you moving."

'You are laying in bed, you are not on your knees.'

"Stanley, a figure of speech, look it up."

'Ok'

Stanley took out his phone and pretended to write something.

"STANLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY"

Stanley looked up from his phone and saw the puppy eyes.

He looked back at his phone.

"HOW DARE YOU, OH NOOOOO IT WON'T BE JUST THE REDDIT STANLEY, I WILL WRITE A CALLOUT GRAFFITI ON YOUR OFFICE BUILING SO THAT EVERYBODY WILL KNOW YOUR CRIMES"

Stanley started to back off to the kitchen

"No don't leave, I was joking, my love, my silly rabbit, my cute goose, my most beloved, my muse, my star, my sweet, my honki donki, my husband, my little boy, my twinkle, my habonkoronkers, my huggly wuggly, my-"

When Stanley was back in the door frame, Narrator smirked.

"My bitch."

And then he whined as Stanley started leaving again.

But, Stanley didn't have a cold heart and after half a minute of whining, he was by Narrator's side and hugged him.

And somehow, half an hour passed, with them just snuggling to each other.

It was just so hard to let go - Narrator kept nuzzling into Stanley, his cheek rubbing circles on the man's chest as he played with the hair on the back of the younger's man head while Stanley just kept kissing the man's face and held him close by his waist, letting one of his legs rest on the bedsheet resting on Narry's limbs. 

Then, Narry's phone alarm played.

It was his everyday alarm at 11 pm, just so he would have some sort of knowledge of what time it was. Stanley turned off his 4 am one because even if they both were night owls, Stanley hated to be waken up by that one.

But, since Narrator was sick, Stanley had earlier decided to sleep on the couch, just to be a bit more safe.

The safety was thrown out of the window already due to all the snuggles and kisses but eh, he could at least pretend and maybe, it wouldn't be this bad.

Yet, when Narrator felt Stanley try to move away, he instinctively pushed Stanley's head closer to his own.

"Stay.

Stay and don't go.

Don't leave me, please." 

Stanley tried to position his head so that he could see Narrator's expression.

He regretted it, seeing how anxious the man looked.

"I, I know I slept through most of the day but, the hour without you today was just so much. I know you normally go to work and all but, right now, the cold destroyed my filters and I just, Stanley, I miss you, I miss you everyday, I need you, I, I want you by my side, of course you need your own space and like I am not your whole world and I always do understand that, just like when you need some alone time but, not today, please, Stanley, not today. Just, please, I know, I know this might not be a good choice but, please, stay, sleep with me, in our bed, I know you probably already thought of going to the couch but I can't sleep well without you by my side, I don't exactly feel rested after the last 9 hours but I always feel rested by the 3 when you are next to me. Please, please, please, Stanley, I know I'm needy but you will disappear from me for 8 or more hours from me tomorrow again and I just, I feel I won't even sleep tonight but just watch you sleep and I know you already told me you find it cute but, but I just, Stanley, please, please please please, this once, I won't keep you the next nights, I will try not to.

Please."

Narrator finally noticed that Stanley had his warmest smile on his face at the moment.

'Let me just get undressed and I will be back, alright?'

Narrator nodded but didn't let go of the hold.

'Something wrong?'

"I realised I haven't been in the bathroom all day.

Stanley, carry me."

'I can offer only a fireman's carry.'

"Ok then don't carry me but, help me get there."

'Oh, you want to watch me undress? But I didn't even let you see my armpit.'

"Stanley, we have been married for 90 years."

'And you still haven't seen my armpit? Damn, what a sad marriage'

They held hands as Stanley stood up from the bed and then helped Narrator stand up. He put the other hand on the man's back and when he saw that Narrator's legs really seemed to not work properly, he princess carried him to their bathroom.

As Stanley took off his apron finally, Narrator gasped at the sight of the shirt's state.

"Ok, the bedsheet can be on me but I don't know what magic craft you'll have to do to get rid of all these stains."

'Vinegar, baking soda, secret sauce, bleach and love.'

"I am so glad I don't let you clean my suits."

Stanley looked at him and smiled.

'I am glad of something else.'

"Hm?"

'Through this whole day, you have been able to backtalk me all he time. This means, while sick, in not the worst state. You can't imagine how much that means to me.'

Oh, the fever surely must have hit now, there was no other explanation.

Stanley undressed, helped Narrator take off his long sleeved pyjama and brought him a new, not sweated one, he cleaned Narrator off with a piece of cloth, wanted to get him to bed - but Narrator whined a bit too much so, he left him to rest on the toilet seat while he took a quick shower, then he remembered that they both needed to brush their teeth and, finally-

He princess carried Narrator back into the bed. 

After he tugged him in and gave him a goodnight forehead kiss, he scooted over to his side of the bed and stared at him, lovingly.

'If I will get sick because of you, you will hear from my lawyer.'

"He would have to catch me first."

'I just need to call you and you will run to me.'

"Not if I block your number."

'You fool, I can just go to my coworkers and ask for their phones and you will know it's the Stanley Silence and rush to my arms.'

"Nah, that silence is a normal one, you really need to up your game."

'I will strangle you.'

"I love you too."

They kissed one last time.

Stanley was laying on his right side while Narrator on his left and, they were able to stare at each other for a while, before they both got overtaken by sleep.

And then, they woke up to a cough.

It was 7 am and Stanley coughed three times.

'I'm texting my lawyer now.'

"Hehe, and I already texted my bud, your boss already received your sick leave note for the next seven days."

'You did this all on purpose.'

"Did Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii?"

'You wanted me to stay at home and for that, I had to get sick.'

"I mean, you didn't but, now, we have to take care of each other, right?"

'It's your turn to spoon feed me.'

"Oh well, if that's a price I have to pay to have you by my side, then I think I can manage."

They coughed together in synch.

'Wow.'

"We are so in love."

Oh yes, they were.

THE END IS NEVER THE END