Stan’s not sure why he bothers having Richie and Eddie over anymore. It’s always just sheer chaos, every single time. The two of them alone were always a handful, even when they were kids; now that they have three kids of their own, it’s just total mayhem. Stan can’t imagine living that way. He’s not sure how Eddie does it.
He feels like a spectator at some ancient Roman bloodsport, looking at his own living room. Patty has Audrey in her lap, for some reason, while Richie has Ezra and Nora; he actually seems to be the most successful, in the moment, since both of them seem relatively content with him. He’s just making them shriek with laughter. Eddie’s trying desperately to play Candy Land with Riley, Patty, and Audrey, but it’s not going well.
“It’s eight o’clock!” Stan calls. Richie’s the only one who looks over at him, giving him a thumbs-up. In the same moment, Riley flips the game board, making Audrey scream at her. Patty looks up at him, desperate.
“You heard the man!” Richie shouts over the chaos. “Time to go home! Say goodbye!”
Audrey clings to Patty, but Richie pries her off when he passes Ezra off. Eddie packs the game back up while Riley tries to argue with him; in the end, he scoops her up, and Richie grabs him by the back of his shirt.
“Goodbye,” Richie says for all of them, dragging them out of the house. Eddie shuts the door behind them, and Stan stares after the door.
“What do you think their place is like when nobody’s there?” Patty asks. She bounces Ezra, stroking his hair back from his face.
“I bet it’s really quiet,” Stan tells her. “Just to fuck with all of us.”
Patty laughs softly. He goes to her, tips her chin up and kisses her gently. She pushes up into him when he does, though, so he cups her face in his hand and lets her deepen the kiss. Ezra squirms a little, when Stan tries to press in, so he pulls back, laughing.
“I’m gonna put him to bed,” Patty says. She leans up to kiss him again before leaving him there. He rubs at his face when she’s gone, his dick already half-hard. When he looks around the living room, he sighs.
It takes him longer to straighten up their living room than it takes for Patty to put Ezra to sleep, somehow. Probably because Patty is a miracle worker and Stan’s not sure he deserves her on his best days. That just means, though, that when he flicks the living room flight off and goes to their bedroom, she’s already there. She’s stripped off her clothes from the day and pulled on a nightgown at some point along the way.
“Hi,” Stan says. Patty’s got her arm across her face, but she lifts her head when she hears his voice. He shuts the door quietly behind himself. “You look nice.”
“I look nice?” Patty asks. She sits up, smoothing down the front of her nightgown. “I’ve had this longer than I’ve known you.”
Stan comes to the foot of the bed and climbs on, scaling the bed until he reaches her. He cups her face in his hand and kisses her hard, her hands coming up to hold his face in return. When he pulls back, she’s flushed, her cheeks all pink. He kisses along her cheekbone to her temple, then down to her ear. He takes her earlobe between his teeth, can feel the stud of her earring against his lip.
“Stan,” she whispers softly. He runs his hand down her side, and she shivers under his touch. He slips his hand under the hem of the nightgown, pushing the blush-pink fabric up her legs so he can skim his fingertips over her thigh. She wraps her hands up in his sweater, tugs him back over to kiss her again. She holds his face between her hands.
“Hello there,” he whispers. She smiles and kisses him. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Dork,” she murmurs, pulling back again. She takes his sweater by the hem and pulls it up over his head, then works on unbuttoning his shirt underneath. He shuts his eyes and just breathes through the feeling of her hands on him. Ever since Richie brought him back, he’d finally been able to settle in his own skin in a way he hadn’t been able to in between leaving Derry when he was eighteen and getting the phone call from Mike when he was forty. It also makes every emotion feel stronger, more acute, like when he’d started taking antidepressants. He feels like a teenager again, sometimes, with how he can’t keep his hands off Patty.
Not that she minds. She takes full advantage of it, actually, like now, when she’s kissing the column of his throat while deftly pulling his last button free. She pushes his shirt back and off his arms, untucking his undershirt.
“Why the fuck do you wear so many shirts?” Patty grumbles. He laughs as she pulls the undershirt off over his head and kisses him again.
“I’m antagonistic towards you,” he tells her. He pushes her back against their pillows, kissing behind her ear. Her hair still smells faintly of coconut, and baby powder, and he sighs there. He bites gently at the thin skin.
“I know,” she breathes. “I can tell.”
Stan lifts his head, pulls the collar of her nightgown out of the way so he can kiss down her collarbone to the hollow of her throat. She shifts under him, trying to get her hips under him. He’s hard already, so he takes her hips in his hands and lines them up so he can roll his own hips against her. She moans softly.
“Can I eat you out?” Stan asks. She nods jerkily, so he slips back down her body to settle between her thighs. He separates her legs, licking the line of one thigh, biting a mark into the inside. She makes soft noises above him that he fucking loves, noises he’d do anything to hear, so he presses his tongue flat against her panties over her cunt.
“Fuck, Stan,” she murmurs. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulls them down, sitting back to tug them down her legs and off. He sets them aside carefully, then ducks between her legs again. She’s so wet already, so he licks her clit, then sucks gently on it. She exhales harshly, her hands coming down to tangle up in his hair.
“I love you,” he says, his lips brushing against hers when he speaks. She tightens her grip. He’s almost painfully hard in his pants, still, but he kind of loves it, loves how hot she is when he’s eating her out and she can’t think about anything except him.
“Love you,” she echoes. She pulls his head in closer a little bit, and he huffs a laugh. Whatever that makes her feel, she pushes up, her legs pulling up until her knees are bent on either side of his shoulders. He keeps her thighs spread himself, long fingers on her flushed skin when he licks inside her. She jerks up into his mouth.
He pulls back enough to say, “Do whatever you want, I’m going to make you cum more than once regardless. If you let me.”
“Let you,” she repeats. She laughs, her hand stroking over his hair before wrapping up in his curls again. “Yeah, Stan, I guess I’ll let you make me c— Fuck.”
Stan slips his finger inside her, bowing his head over her clit to suck it into his mouth again. Her grip on his hair becomes loose, until she’s just holding his head, trying to get him to move faster, harder. He pulls off again, tugs her legs up over his shoulders and props her open. She whimpers when he slips a second finger in, his thumb coming up to press under her clit when he scrapes his teeth over it.
“Stan, fuck, Stan, I’m really close,” she breathes, gasping. He does it again, pulls her clit into his mouth and sucks on it, pressing into her with his fingers and his thumb, letting her press into his face as she rides through her first orgasm. He ducks his head further, licks at her wetness, then pushes her nightgown up to kiss over her belly.
“Thank you,” he whispers into her skin. She laughs breathily.
“For letting you?” she asks.
“No— Well, yes,” he tells her. He’s so hard he’s pretty sure he’ll go off the second she touches him, so he’s trying to stall a little bit, just so that won’t happen. “I was thanking you for having my baby.”
Patty blushes, her whole face going redder than it already was. He reaches up to cup one bare breast under her nightgown, stroking his thumb over her nipple.
“You don’t need to thank me,” she says.
“I do,” he tells her. He kisses to her other breast, head still ducked under her nightgown, caught between the fabric and her warm skin. “You’re amazing. Just— Wow.”
“You thank me every day,” Patty points out. Stan smiles against her skin, then pulls back, slipping out of her nightgown to cup her face in his hands and kiss her. “Gross.”
“It’s you,” he says, but she’s already grinning at him. She drops her hands, unbuckles his belt and slips it free from the loops. She undoes his pants for him, pushes them down with his underwear, wrapping her hand around his cock. His breath catches.
“Take your pants off,” she tells him. He climbs off the bed and strips off the rest of his clothes, leaving his socks and shoes in a pile with his pants and his boxer-briefs. He moves up over her again, one knee on either side of her waist when he kisses her. She pushes up into him, her hand finding his dick again and stroking up in a slow slide.
“Patty,” he says, both a warning and a moan. She strokes back down, just as slow, then rolls her hips up into him. He pulls her nightgown off over her head, finally sick of it, setting it aside so he can feel her skin against his. Stan takes her hips in his hands.
“What’re you gonna do?” Patty asks, her voice high and breathy, and that alone nearly sets him off.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he says. “If that’s okay.”
She smiles, says, “Yeah, that’s okay.”
He lines himself up with her entrance, loves the wet feel of her around the head of his cock when he slips in. She grabs his shoulders, her knees pressed up to her chest; he pulls one of her legs over his shoulder as he pushes further in. She inhales deeply, then relaxes, and he rolls the rest of the way in, one slow thrust forward.
“If you’re going to fuck me, fuck me,” Patty says. Stan shifts slightly, pulling her leg closer so he can kiss the inside of her thigh when he ducks his head down. She sighs.
“Let me enjoy the view for a second,” he murmurs against her skin. He pulls her other leg over his other shoulder, situating himself inside of her. He strokes her hair back from her face, then says, “I love you.”
“I love you more,” she tells him. He pulls out, then back in, finding his rhythm easily. He fucks her hard, trying to get as deep inside of her as he can on every thrust in, just so he can hear the desperate sounds she makes when he does. He gets his hand between them, rubs her clit in hard circles with his thumb, his hand pressing into her lower belly, and she bucks up into him when she comes for the second time.
When her orgasm rips through her, her eyes slip shut and her breath catches, her hands on his waist. She tightens around him, and he can feel her pulsing through it. She’s wetter, when he moves again, and her cunt flutters around his dick. She’s making soft, weak sounds when he fucks into her, but when he asks if she wants him to stop, she shakes her head furiously.
He cups her face in his hand and kisses her softly. She licks into his mouth, behind his teeth, trying to climb inside his skin. His fingers are threaded through her hair when he comes deep inside her. He holds her tightly, his mouth open against her throat. She keeps rolling her hips, working him through it until he’s oversensitive and has to pull out of her. She wriggles a little, once he’s out, a furrow appearing between her eyebrows like she’s frustrated that he’s gone, so he drops his head again and makes it his mission to get her to cum a third and a fourth time with his mouth and his fingers.
The third one only takes a couple of minutes, sensitive and overstimulated as she is, so he gives her a chance to catch her breath before he comes back, introducing his teeth again to bring her over the edge for the fourth time. She pushes weakly at his head, then, brushing him aside.
“You’re a menace,” she tells him, breathless. “I’m going to call the police.”
“If you can stand up and find your phone, then I haven’t done my job right,” Stan says. She glares ineffectually at him; it’s even less effective when it breaks into a grin just seconds later. He pulls her in, falls onto his back beside her and lets her curl up around his side. He rubs her back, kissing the top of her head.