Chapter Text
Stanley and Frank sat beneath the baseball field bleachers, laughing and basking in each other’s company. Frank had brought his notebook and pen, trying to get some work done on their comic script.
Stanley poked Frank’s cheek, earning another laugh from the taller boy. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m just seeing if you’re real. You’re too nice to look at to be real,” Stanley mused, resting his cheek in his hand. Frank rolled his eyes but blushed, the tint splashing across his cheeks like paint on paper.
Frank scoffed with a smile. “Bullshi—“
Stanley gave Frank a quick peck on the lips. “I’d rather you not swear, thanks.”
Frank’s cheeks turned an even brighter red, and Stanley laughed. “You get so red, Frank.”
“Yeah,” Frank replied. “I wonder why.”
~~~
“Frank,” Stanley whispered when the brunet clutched almost desperately onto his hand. “Frank, talk to me.”
Frank’s didn’t say anything. He was hyperventilating, his eyes locked on the ground. Stanley stepped in front of him, tilting his head up to look at him. “Frank, look at me. Please.”
Frank locked eyes with Stanley, and his breathing slowly calmed down. Stanley cupped his lover’s face, taking a deep breath. “Breathe with me, okay?”
Frank nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”
Stanley took a deep breath, and Frank copied. His heart rate slowed, and his hands stopped shaking. His face returned to its normal colour, his skin no longer pale.
Stanley smiled softly, looking around to make sure they were alone before kissing Frank on the cheek. “There he is.”
Frank’s smile faltered, glancing away. “Sorry. Sorry about…all this.”
Stanley shook his head. “It’s okay.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
~~~
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Frank asked, his backyard grass beginning to itch. The marker was cool against his skin as Stanley added to the “tattoo” he was drawing on Frank’s arm—which just consisted of smiley faces and stars. Stanley hummed, tilting his head. “Of course I do. I’m the best artist in town.”
Frank could feel the nervous sweat dripping down his back. “But what if I get ink poisoning? That can happen, you know.”
Stanley attempted and failed at raising an eyebrow. “I’ve never gotten ink poisoning.”
“Just ‘cause it’s never happened doesn’t mean it can’t.”
Stanley capped the marker. “Okay, then, I’ll stop,” he said.
Frank stuck his arm out, the array of stars going from his wrist to beneath his sleeve. Stanley grinned, his eyes twinkling. “So?”
“It’s…nice…!” Frank said hesitantly. “…If you want ink poisoning.”
Stanley’s face dropped. “Again with the ink poisoning?”
Frank shrugged. “It’s a valid concern, is it not?”
Stanley hummed, shifting to rest his head on Frank’s shoulder. “…I guess so. I’ve never gotten it though, so…”
Frank rolled his eyes with a smile, resting his head on Stanley’s. “That doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” he said gently. Stanley shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
Frank gave him a teasing smile. “You won’t be once you do get ink poisoning.”
Stanley sat up, a faux offended look on his face. “How dare you wish that upon me!”
Frank laughed as Stanley pounced on him, causing the boys to launch into a play wrestling match. They rolled around in the grass, staining their clothes and garnering small cuts from sticks hidden in the dirt.
It felt like they were young again.