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The drive to the Sanchez house was unremarkable, even in the winter weather. So common that Stan could’ve driven there with his eyes closed. He turned his lights off as he rounded the block where Rick’s home was. Driving slowly, he noticed a scrawny, tall figure standing on the sidewalk, barely noticeable in the gray moonlight. Stan leaned over and cracked the passenger's side door open, the car hardly crawling along the dark road.
The figure walked towards the car and clambered in the coveted “Stanmobile” without needing the vehicle to come to a stop. His motions were routine as he closed the door just enough to keep the heat in the car.
“Hey,” Stan greeted, sneaking a peek at his passenger. Rick pulled the hood of his jacket back, letting the melting snowflakes drip down his back. He smiled, showing off one of his sharp canines, but didn’t reply. Instead he opened the glove box and plucked out a half-full pack of cigarettes. Pulling a lighter from his pocket, he lit one.
“Do you want me to roll down the window or something?” Rick said before he took a drag. Stan shook his head.
“Nah, I could always blame the smell on my Pops,” Stan chuckled. Rick nodded, exhaling the thick smoke through his teeth. Firmly outside of view from the Sanchez home. Stan flicked back on his lights. Snow came down leisurely, melting once they hit the pavement.
The drive to the lookout was quick and relaxed. Underneath the lookout, a train puttered along rusty tracks, occasionally sounding its horn. From the couple’s vantage point, the horn was nothing more than a whisper in the blowing wind. Stan let the car idle for a moment before turning off the engine. He pulled the keys from the ignition and put them in the pocket of his jacket, turning to focus on Rick. Having finished his first cigarette before they arrived, he moved to light up another. Rick looked back towards Stan, lust quickly fogging his eyes. He handed the lit cigarette to Stan after taking a drag.
Rick shrugged off his jacket, leaving it in a heap on the floor. Rick was wearing a stained white tank top that hung loosely around his bony chest, his eyes relaxed as he took in Stan. Stan loved that look on him. Stan handed the cigarette back to Rick when his hands were freed. Rick accepted the cigarette and held it to his lips. He inhaled the smoke, holding it in briefly before exhaling. The smoke plumed in the warm car, joining the couple’s hot breath in condensing on the cold windows. Rick passed the cigarette back to Stan. Their hands grazed. Despite himself, Stan fought back against the heat rising in his cheeks at the contact. Rick could be relentless about how easily Stan got flustered. Knowing what they were planning to do after the cigarette went out didn’t help.
Stan took the final drag, calming his nerves, and tossed the cigarette butt out the window into the falling snow. He leaned towards Rick, cupping a hand under his jaw and bringing him in to a gentle kiss. He tasted like smoke and a hint of minty toothpaste. It reminded him of the first time they kissed, smoking something other than a cigarette in the same car looking at the same view. Only then, the summer sun had been setting, basking Rick in an unforgettable golden light.
While Stan was reminiscing, Rick grew tired of Stan’s cautious movements. He kissed back with more ferocity. With Rick setting the pace, Stan was not one to disappoint. Quickly, the two teenagers were sloppily making out. During a pause, Stan spoke.
“How ‘bout we take this to the back?” His voice a husky growl in the quiet night.
“Sure,” Rick quickly made his way over the bench front seat and onto the back seat. Stan had a little difficulty navigating his way, not as nimble or lithe as Rick, but soon joined his lover in the back. The two were close, feeling each other’s breath for a moment before restarting their make-out session. A strand of saliva bridged the gap between their lips during a break in the action. Rick hooked a leg around Stan, a hand squeezing his thick bicep and the other resting against his boyfriend’s hairy chest. A laugh caught in his chest watching Stan’s hungry eyes undress what little he was wearing.
“Still wanna go all the way, babe?” Rick teased. Stan’s voice rumbled.
“Hell yeah,” Stan firmly coaxed Rick to lay down on the leather seat, taking his place on top of the scrawny man. Their lips reconnected, Stan dominating. Rick’s hand found its way into Stan’s messy brown locks, grabbing a fistful. Stan trailed kisses down Rick’s neck, pausing only to nibble at his collarbone. Rick’s moan was heavenly. One of Stan’s broad hands slipped between Rick’s thin shirt and his skin, pushing the fabric out of the way to caress his body, taking in every inch he could feel.
The cab gradually filled with yellow light. Rick broke the kiss. His eyebrow quirked. A pair of high-beam headlights illuminated the cab of the car.
“Who’s that?” Rick soft voice broke the comfortable silence.
“No one, babe,” Stan replied, disappointed, “It’s a public road.” Stan tried to kiss Rick again, but was denied as Rick pushed himself up, peering out the foggy window he was up against. He gasped, facing back to Stan, gawking.
“That’s my fucking dad’s car!” Rick whispered, high pitched and squeaking. Stan shot up, patting his pockets searching for the keys. They were empty.
“Where are the keys?” Stan started blindly searching the back seat around Rick. Rick felt along the floor. Seconds ticked slowly, their hunt for Stan’s keys growing more and more frantic as the approaching car pulled up behind them.
“Here!” The jingle of keys sounded like angel laughter, the car key held firmly in Rick’s slender fingers. Rick surged across the back of the front seat, landing in a heap in the passenger’s seat. He leaned over and started the car as Stan clumsily joined Rick in the front. He ran a hand through his hair, hoping to smooth over where Rick tousled in the heat of the moment. Rick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, ridding himself of their shared saliva. A knock on the window rang through the car. Stan slowly rolled down his window, revealing a tall man hunched over, looking into the cab.
“I thought you might be out here. What the hell do you think you’re doing outside the house this late?” Rick’s father inquired. Rick’s eyes shot around the car’s interior, looking for anything he could use to throw his father off their true intentions. His gaze lingered on a half empty pack of cigarettes. His father followed Rick’s line of sight.
“Ah-hah!” He chuckled, “Cigarettes, that’s all?” Rick’s father sighed, breath coming out in a puff of fog in the cold weather.
“I want you home in twenty minutes. And not a word of this to your mother,” Rick nodded feverishly.
“Yes, sir.”
“And you’re grounded for a month,” Rick hunched inward, looking ashamed.
“Yes, sir.”
“Get him home safe, Stanley,” With a pat on the roof, Rick’s father turned back to his own car, slowly turning it around and driving back the way he came. Stan laughed nervously.
“Well, that could have gone a lot worse,” he looked towards Rick, eyes softening in relief. His brow furrowed as he looked towards his partner. Rick was as still as a statue, eyes still locked on the rolled down window where his father once stood. His breath was coming in short bursts.
“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Stan gingerly took one of Rick’s trembling hands into his own. Rick’s eyes snapped towards Stan, remaining impossibly wide. His other hand clinched into a tight fist.
“Breathe, Rick. He doesn’t know what we were really doing,” Stan’s thumb rubbed circles across Rick’s knuckles. Rick’s breath shuddered and his eyes screwed shut, tears mingling in his eyelashes.
“You’ll be okay,” Stan pressed a kiss to the back of Rick’s hand. His trembling slowed marginally, “Can I see your other hand?”
Rick took a minute and forced his hand to come out of a fist, cautiously presenting Stan his other hand. Stan took a hold of both Rick’s hands, putting them together. They stayed that way for a few minutes, Stan waiting anxiously as Rick’s breathing eventually evened out. Rick cracked open his eyes, looking down at the ground. Stan shot a crooked smile towards his partner. Rick sighed.
“Just take me home, Lee,” Rick’s eyes were downcast as he took his hands from Stan’s. He threw his jacket back on, the cold had intruded into the car while the two were waiting for the car’s heater. Stan nodded, at a loss on how to reassure his partner. The drive back was silent, save for Rick’s occasional sniffle. As Stan turned on Rick’s street, Rick leaned towards Stan and planted a kiss on his stubbly cheek.
“Thanks, Lee,” Rick murmured inches away from his ear. Stan nodded.
“No problem, Sanchez,” Stan watched as his boyfriend climbed out of the car and walked towards his home. Stan sighed, getting a halfhearted wave from Rick as he pulled away from the modest house. They didn’t get to do what they planned, but that was no problem, Stan thought. They’ll just have to try again another day.