Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Now, Stanley, just pick up the phone- no, no don't unplug it, just answer it- yes, yes, that's it. Now- are you ready, Stanley?”

Stanley was as ready as one could ever be. 
The Narrator had decided a while ago that the whole game needed a renovation- perhaps a  remodelling of a room, or a modified texture, or even a wall painted a single shade lighter- minor details like these, that “ultimately brought the game together”, as the Narrator had said himself. And so, he would occasionally ask Stanley for his opinion, or to playtest a certain area, before he made his final decision and officially added it to the game.

Today was one of these days.

“Don't be expecting too much of this, I've just done a bit of remodelling here and there, brought a little life to the place, you know? I've always thought this apartment was quite empty.”

And yet he still kept it in the game as it was until now, and just thought of changing it up? Talk about hypocrisy. 

“Well, Stanley, I'll have you know, the story I envisioned for this apartment didn't really call for a cosy environment. The player is supposed to be getting verbally berated here, not thinking about the nice décor, or, or- how well the wallpaper matches the carpet. Didn't really think that through, did you, Stanley?”

Yes, well, Stanley would've probably thought that through, if he knew what the Narrator had been working on beforehand. Yet, he's pretty sure the Narrator didn't care about that, he just cared about being right.

“Oh, you and your whining. Just go inside and take a look.”

The door to the apartment opened before Stanley, to reveal a completely different yet all-the-same living room. Yes, the structure of the room itself was all the same, but the rest of it was almost unrecognisable.

“Well don't be shy, Stanley! Come in.”

Stanley stepped into the middle of the room and spun around to take it fully in.
The grey walls were painted over with a warm beige and white, matching that of the office's floor. The tile roof was replaced with wooden planks, and the carpet ranged from dark brown to crème. There were also a few items added on the table and sink: Plates, glasses, paper towels, a  TV remote, and many more Stanley didn't bother taking note of. It made the place feel a lot more lived in.

“I take it you like it, then, hmm? Ready to move on to-”

Stanley had not gotten the chance to actually look around yet. He barely just entered the room. He heard the Narrator scoff.
Stanley ran his fingers on the desk, then on the fridge, then the TV, taking in the new textures. He opened the fridge and- what do you know! It was full of food and liquids and charcuterie! His mouth watered at the thought of shoving any kind of food is his mouth right now-

“Don't get too excited there, cowboy, they aren't real. They're just holograms. The player's not meant to touch them.”

Stanley sighed and rolled his eyes. Why can't he ever get anything nice in this place? He slammed the fridge's door.

“Oh don't be such a baby, Stanley.”

He shot the ceiling an unimpressed look. Right. He walked to the centre of the room once again, hands on his hips, and began scanning for anything he'd missed. Nope, the room was pretty small, therefore he's pretty much seen all of it, nothing else to look at- unless.. something's missing. 
Where's his wife?

“Ah, I see you're done looking around there, are you? Care to listen to what I have to say, now?”

Well, Stanley would gladly listen to what the Narrator had to say, if he wouldn't rush him all the damn time.

“It's not my fault your brain is incapable of basi-”

My wife, Narrator? You were gonna say something about my wife? Where is she? Why is she not here? What's all this about?

“Right right, yes! So. As you've noticed, the door frame from the living room to the rest of the apartment has been unblocked.”

Stanley had, in fact, not noticed that.

“Too busy being petty, I suppose..”

He was not being petty-

“Right, if you look around, you'll see I've actually went through the efforts of modelling and furnishing the entire house! Go, go, tell me what you think of it!”

Stanley raised a curious brow and cautiously walked over to the door frame. Truthfully, from what he could tell, the rest of the house was finished and accessible to the player.

“Ohh, I'm so excited! I really want to hear your opinion on this, Stanley, given you were a person all that time ago, I really need your critique on my work this time.”

Really needed his critique, huh? We'll see about that.
The rest of the house consisted of only a bedroom, a bathroom, and a closed door which probably lead to-

“It supposedly leads outside, although I don't have the resources to model an entire outsider map. Therefore, it remains closed.”

Alright. Yes. Stanley could have probably figured it out by himself, but they were on a schedule, apparently.

Stanley picked and chose to check out the bedroom first. It was a cramped, but not too uncomfortable to be in, one-person bedroom, the bed being-

Oh my actual God-

The bed's not supposed to be in the centre of the room, you absolute maniac!

“Oh what is it you're preaching about this time?”

The bed- it's a one person bed, it's supposed to go to one of the corners, not the centre! How could you not know this?!
Stanley threw his hands in the air while staring daggers at the ceiling.

“So what if the bed is not in the corner Stanley? It's about aesthetics, not usability, or to satisfy whatever corner-beded fantasies you have in that head of yours.”

No, no, Stanley didn't care what the Narrator had to say about this one. He was right, and that was the objective truth. The room was small, which means that if the bed were to go to the corner, it'd open up a lot more space, that's just how it worked!

“Fine, fine, Stanley! You're right. I suppose I'll have to place the bed in one of the corners when I get back to my remodelling. Happy, now?”

Damn right he was.

“Hmpf.”

Satisfied grin plastered all over his face, Stanley continued looking around the small bedroom. He began feeling all the textures of the room one by one, again.

.

.

So...

“What is it, Stanley?”

The Narrator had previously said that this sort of décor wouldn't be suitable for his story. Is it that he's- oh that's a pretty nice blanket texture- is it that he's planning on changing it up?

“Well, Stanley, you got me there! I am planning on altering this specific ending. You see, I wanted to add some extra scenes and dialogue to it, but I unfortunately couldn't figure out how I made the female voice that first time. Figured I'd just scrap the concept and start anew.”

So no more wife ending?

“No more wife ending for the time, I'm afraid. But not to worry, Stanley, I've already thought of a way to include her somewhere else! I won't tell you where though, oh no, no, I'll let it be a surprise. There's nothing like genuine first reactions, is there, Stanley?”

Alright. Sounds good enough, Stanley will be anticipating the eventual return of his wife.
In the meantime, Stanley sat down on the bed. It wiggled under his weight. Hmmm. Bouncy. He liked that.
He's pretty sure he heard the Narrator chuckle.

Okay, he's had enough of this room. Stanley stood up, and exited the bedroom. Only the bathroom to go. He waltzed up to the door, and opened it.

He stood in the entrance, taking it all in. He didn't really know how to feel about the bathroom.

“What? What's wrong? Is it not good?”

No, no it's not that- he just feels it's a little.. too big?

“I don't understand what you mean by that, Stanley, I'm not psychic.”

Right, uh. Stanley pinched the bridge of his nose. Compared to the rest of the house, he feels the bathroom is a little too big in size. An apartment this small wouldn't usually have a bathroom of this size. It also wouldn't have a bathtub, it'd have a shower. 

“I see.. You think the hypothetical person inhabiting this apartment wouldn't be able to afford a bathroom such as this?”

No, no, it isn't about being able to afford stuff at all! It's -ugh, um, it's about size and layout, not- ugh! Stanley couldn't get his thoughts right on the matter. It's just not supposed to be this big. The Narrator could look it up on his own, Stanley wasn't an expert on this stuff.

“Oh, really, you're not? I'd thought you knew what you were talking about just a second ago. Perhaps you're not as smart as you think-

Oh, shut up!

“Hah, hm. Very well, I'll look into whatever's tipped you off regarding this. What about the bathroom as a whole, hmm? Is it good? No?”

It's clean, for one. Definitely clean, but not too clean, you know? Just the right amount of clean.

“Yes, Stanley, it's clean.”

Just the right amount, though.

“Yes! Anything else?”

Hmmm. Stanley placed his hand on his chin while looking around, eyes concentrated. There's lots of details in this room. All sorts of detergents and cleaning supplies he's long forgotten the use of.
Stanley approached the toilet. This didn't really work in the boss's bathroom, given the Narrator hadn't blessed the room with running water, although he was still curious. He pressed the button atop of the toilet.

It.. flushed! The toilet flushed, it really did!

“Well what else was it supposed to do, Stanley?”

Stanley completely ignored the Narrator in search for any small enough items in the room. He rushed to the medical cabinet, grabbed whatever he could reach, and threw it all into the toiler bowl.

“What- STANLEY!”

Stanley watched enthusiastically as he pressed the button and the items were flushed down by the water. One by one, they all disappeared in a spiral. Beautiful. He reached for the cabinet again.

“Stop this right this instant!”

Stanley flushed down more items. He wondered how many he could flush at once without clogging the toilet.

“Stop it you- oh, whatever. If this is all that entertains your stupid monkey brain, then so be it.”

This does entertain his monkey brain, thank you very much. He kept flushing things down the toilet, until the cabinet was finally empty and there wasn't anything else in the room that quite fit the bowl. He sighed in satisfaction and looked up at the ceiling, expecting a reaction from the Narrator.

“A reaction? Is my reaction the only thing you're seeking nowadays? Have you really demoted yourself so much so that the only purpose behind your actions is my approval? This really speaks a thousand word about you, Stanley.”

Stanley rolled his eyes. 
Not his approval, no. He simply liked pissing him off. Plus, he didn't flush things down the toilet to get a reaction out of him, he did it because it was fun. Oh but no, the Narrator's ego would get so ever hurt if he found out not everything's about him-

“Are you done looking around the bathroom yet? Or, whatever's left of it..”

Stanley snickered. No. He was, in fact, not. He still had one more thing he needed to look into.
He closed the toilet's lid and turned towards the bath tub. It was a huge thing, nearly (if Stanley remembered how to measure correctly) 10 feet long and 5 feet wide. It even had a showerhead and brand-less shampoo bottles and everything.
Figures crossed, he slowly turned the handle on, hoping to God that-

Yes! Ha-ha! Oh yes! This was a working shower!

“Stanley was so tremendously astounded by the consent of running water, which mind you was first invented by the Egyptians back in 4000 BC,- “

Yeah, laugh all you want, asshole, Stanley was still thrilled!

“- that he doubled over in tears, falling dramatically unto the floor-”

It's been years since Stanley's had an actual shower! Years!

“- and perhaps even throwing up a little. Who knew what went inside that crazy man's head?”

No, nope. Stanley was not listening to this. He was very much having a shower, and The Narrator could bitch all he wanted about it.

“Why would you even need to shower, Stanley? You aren't in need of one. There's no way for you to be anything but sanitary, in fact. Showering would be pointless.”

Stanley begun kicking off his shoes.
That's not the point! A shower felt nice, it.. uh.. it relaxed his pores, or whatever. Besides, he was feeling a little homesick, couldn't the Narrator leave him be for a while?

“What, you're going to shower now? Right now?”

What better time than this? They hadn't restarted in a while, which meant Stanley was a little sweaty from running around. Plus, he didn't know if there will even be a bath tub here next reset, considering the conversation they just had a moment ago. He swears, they'll get right back to the house tour once Stanley's done.

He heard the Narrator sigh.
“Oh, fine. But be quick about it, will you?”

A grin grew on Stanley's face as he took off his socks and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. His eyes darted around the room in search of the essentials he remembered: Shampoo bottles, towels, laundry basket.. All was here. Good.
Removing his shirt and undershirt and carefully placing them atop the laundry basket, Stanley focused on undoing his belt. His cheeks heated at the thought of the Narrator quietly watching him undress.

“Oh, sorry Stanley, do you need me to go? I can go if-”

No, no. I don't mind. You can stay.

He might have minded a long time ago, felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable under the watchful eye of the Narrator- but after being intimate with each other so many times, he barely registers it anymore. Besides, he likes the company. 
Stanley removed his pants and turned on the shower once again, turning the handles left and right to find the right temperature he was looking for. Hot but not too hot, just the right amount that made his body let loose under the water. Ah, there it is!

Stanley giddily got rid of any article of clothing he still had on him before getting in the tub, one foot after another. His skin, prickled and exposed in the chilly air of the apartment, melted once it finally made contact with the steamy water. Stanley groaned upon impact. It had been a long time.

Stanley fully emerged himself in the heat, letting the water burn his skin and rattle his bones. To him, it felt like getting a warm hug from an old friend. Every muscle in his body relaxed, as he stood idly under the showerhead, eyes closed. He felt as though something had been lifted off of his chest. He sighed.

Your jealousy's louder than the water currently running on my face.

“Uh- excuse me? Are you taking to me, Stanley?”

I can tell you're jealous.

“Pfft-hah! Me? Jealous?! Of what?”

Of this. Of me showering.

“Oh, don't be ridiculous, Stanley.. Why would I ever be jealous of you? I'm certain I very  clearly voiced my disinterest in your weird human habit just a moment ago.”

Stanley paused to run his fingers between his hair and take another breather. He reached and massaged his left shoulder lightly.

You can join me if you want.

A pause.“Uh- well. Yes- I, uh. Well. Wouldn't that be an invasion of privacy? Your privacy?”

Stanley shot the ceiling a look.

“Right.. Although wouldn't it be weird for two- I-I mean, why would two humans ever need to bathe in the same space together? That would be counterproductive, would it not?”

Stanley scoffed, heat bubbling in his stomach. He could tell the Narrator was flustered. He's always nervous to try new things.

“I'm not flustered, Stanley! Or nervous, for that matter!”

Do you want to join me or not?

Silence. Stanley stretched his body as he waited for the Narrator's response. He picked up the un-labeled bottles to identify which one was which. Then, he looked for the sponges, and took his time deciding which one he would rather use.
A sudden frame drop took over the entirety of the room. Then another one. Again. The map was lagging. An excited feeling bloomed in Stanley's gut. This could only mean one thing.

The bathroom's door opened to reveal the Narrator's human form. A tall, imposing yet rather plush figure of a man well into his 50's- or rather, that's the form he and the Narrator had collectively chosen as his character model- stepped into the steamy room, and closed the door behind him. 
He seemed shy, slightly fidgeting with the button on his sleeve and keeping his gaze strictly on the ground. His cheeks were tinted red, although his expression was rock solid. Cute.

The Narrator coming down to pay him a visit always made his chest tighten, given that the other is somewhat wary of it. Stanley remembers him confessing a long while ago, that all the different types of emotions and sensations he could feel in a human body still overwhelmed him at times.

Stanley's smile grew at the sight of him. He placed his hands on the edge of the tub and leaned towards him.

Hello handsome.

Him and the Narrator finally made eye contact. 
“H-Hello Stanley.”

Stanley chuckled. He extended his hand for the Narrator to take, which he did. Closing his fingers around the other's hand, he turned it over and kissed his knuckles lightly. That seemed to calm him the smallest bit.

Nervous? Come on, let me help you out of your clothes.

--

The Narrator's naked body contacts the water and Stanley can see him shudder intensely.

Too hot?

“N-no, no-no, just..huff, just a big change is all, from the- um, the-”

The room?

“Yeah, yes- the room. It.. i-it feels kind of nice a-actually.”

The Narrator exhales deeply and finally un-tenses. He's stood right next to Stanley, almost towering over him, white mist emanating from his bare shoulders and head.
The Narrator shuts his eyes and tilts his head up.

“Ahh..”

Stanley smiles and runs his fingers through his hair again.

Feel good?

The Narrator chuckles. “No, yeah, Stanley. This feels.. good, I suppose is one way to put it.”

Stanley was glad the Narrator was enjoying himself. They both were. His mind had become a bit hazy from all the warmth and steam, making him feel overly gleeful. Looking at his lover through half lidded eyes, he felt like he could ravish him whole in this very moment.

The Narrator seemed to notice that stray though, his blush deepening.

Stanley reached over and cupped the other man's cheek gingerly, connecting their lips into a heart-flattering kiss. The Narrator kissed back, humming lovingly into his mouth. The two kissed again, and once more, their lips meeting over and over in a slow yet passionate dance they've went over countless of times before. Finally, Stanley disconnected their lips for the last time- much to the Narrator's dissent- pecking his lover's cheek before fully letting go.

Turn around.

“Turn around? For what?”

To wash your back.

The Narrator gave him a sceptical look.

Come on, I want to wash your back.

The Narrator grumpily rolled his eyes, which Stanley supposes would be paired with an 'Oh, fine' if he could read his inner monologue.
Turning around, Stanley was met with the blank canvas that was the Narrator's back. It had aged beautifully with time, superficially anyway, and Stanley couldn't wait to let his hands feel and explore every inch of him.
The Narrator shuddered. Oh yeah, he probably heard that.
Stanley placed a warm hand on his shoulder and kissed him reassuringly on the space between his shoulder-plates. He glanced around, and spotted the shampoo bottle sitting among the other ones.

Hands full of shampoo cream and very eager, Stanley finally laid his palms upon the Narrator. Its cold texture sent chills down his spine, although he wouldn't dare speak a word of complaint.
He stroked his back timidly, careful to take his time spreading the shampoo. He felt his way around the Narrator's shoulders, then up his muscles, then down his sides. 

“Mmm.. Ah..”

Stanley made sure to feel even the smallest bumps under his fingertips, running slow circles around his skin, all the while the Narrator sighed and groaned quietly. Stanley watched closely at every one of the Narrator's reaction, ensuring to pay extra attention to any particular spots he seemed to like. He could be mistaken of being under the influence of a spell, the way he looked at the Narrator with so much love and adoration.He kept running his hands up and down the other's back, until he felt he needed to add a little pressure. He pressed down on his shoulder-blades.

“Hmph-!”

Heh. You're so sensitive.

Stanley kept adding pressure to his touches, circling his shoulder, massaging the back of his neck, running his hand down his spine all the way to the tailbone. The Narrator arched his back and bit his lip. He even let a moan or two slip, whenever Stanley would turn his hand a certain way or add pressure in just the right spot.

You're very sensitive!

It reminded Stanley of all those other times the two would get so close with eachother. When making love with one another, the Narrator would then, too, be as sensitive and delicate as he is right now. Stanley smiled fondly at that thought. He made sure to keep his memories buried deep inside his mind, not wanting the Narrator to hear them and think they're an innuendo for wanting to take things further. He liked what they were doing at the moment.

Happy with himself, Stanley grabbed the showerhead and begun washing the other man off. The Narrator hummed in content.

Not so bad, was it?

“Hmm, hehe. No, I found I quite enjoyed myself.”

I heard.

He didn't respond, although Stanley could tell he was blushing.

Want me to wash your hair, too?

“I'm not a baby, Stanley, I can wash myself if I wish to do so.”

Yeah. As if this whole thing is about actually showering.

“If it isn't, then why are you so persistent on doing it for me? You don't think I'm capable, is that it?”

Ah, well. It's- it's not about being or not being capable. It's, uh, a more.. personal thing. What I mean is, I just, I think- you like it, it makes you feel good when I do it, therefore I want to do it for you.

The Narrator seemed troubled.

Sorry, my thoughts are all scrambled again. Ugh. I just. I-

“I think I get what you mean. I often look forward to showing you the things I've made, simply because I know you'll enjoy them. Is that what you're referring to?”

Yeah. Yeah, like that! 

“Hm..”

.. So, what do you say?

“Say about what?”

Can I wash your hair?

The Narrator scoffed, “I still don't get why you're being so stubborn about this.”

Stanley laughed soundlessly. He leaned on the Narrator's side and intertwined their fingers.

I like taking care of you when I get the chance.

.
.
.

“... Fine.”

Chapter Text

Greedy fingertips graze through soft hair and hot skin. They touch and pull and caress sweetly. Whispered praises and moans come out one's mouth, as the other smiles and leaves a trail of kisses from the neck down.

Eventually the two forget about their initial plan. Stanley pushes the older man against the wall and kisses him deeply, tongue in the other's throat and hands on his hair, his face, his thighs. Stanley pressed against the Narrator's body as much as physically possible, wanting to feel him, be close to him (be part of him?). The Narrator kissed back just as eagerly, eyes closed.

Stanley picked up the pace and moved his passionate kisses to his cheeks and down his neck, locking just above his collarbone. The Narrator whined and squished Stanley's shoulders.

“Oh, God”

The Narrator's mind begun fogging up as he saw Stanley slowing kissing his way down his body while looking at him right in the eyes. Christ, he was so hot. They were so hot. The room was so, so hot right now. Oh, this is actually quite overwhelming.
The Narrator's breath begun picking up.

“Uh- uh, Stanley?”

Stanley immediately stopped and looked at him.

“This is- I'm very appreciative of what you're doing right now, sweetheart, but- can we, um, take a break for a moment?”

Understanding flashed across Stanley's eyes as he rose to the Narrator's level. He nodded. Realising the other must be too disoriented to read his thoughts at the moment, he simply pointed to the rest of the bathroom.

“Yes, I-I'd quite like it if we got out of the shower.”

Stanley nodded again and turned off  the water, opening the shower curtain and stepping outside. He gestured for the Narrator to take his hand, helping him out of the tub as well.

--

Stanley laid comfortably on the Narrator's chest as he fondled the other's left hand, both sat on the couch of the apartment. The lights were dimmed and the room's TV emitted faint white noise.
The two's clothes were replaced with towels (Stanley's idea), leaving most of their skin bare. They remained quiet, simply enjoying each other's presence and drinking in the newfound euphoria of an aftershower.

“I.. hope I didn't ruin the experience for you, Stanley.”

Stanley looked up at the Narrator from where he was, his face unreadable.

At least you don't smell now.

He scoffed. “As if I smelled like anything before! What do I even smell like, now, anyway?”

Don't you know? You were the one who created the shampoo bottles.

“I simply downloaded the assets, Stanley, I don't know.”

Stanley placed his nose directly in the middle of the taller man's chest and sniffed him. The Narrator's heart skipped a beat.

It's... hm. I'd say, maybe, a candle? No, not a candle, that's stupid. A flower. Yeah, that one flower that's.. long, and purple, and flower-y.

“You mean to describe lavender?”

Yeah, that.

The Narrator rolled his eyes. “That's not a flower, Stanley, that's a flowering plant.”

Yeah, whatever, that's what-

“There is a significant difference between-”

It's not that different-

“They really are that different, if you-”

I really don't care-

“Of course you wouldn't, since you're so-” Stanley shoved the Narrator's side.

“Ow! Stanley!”

Fuck off.

The Narrator sighed melodramatically. “You know, I really need to work on that attitude of yours. It's about time I taught you not to run your mouth.”

Stanley turned to lay on his stomach in order to face him properly.

You're not the boss of me.

“Oh I very much am, Stanley, I control everything that you do. You're just an insignificant little man, but me? I give life to this place, meaning! What would you do without me? What story would you tell?”

Strong words for someone who whines and begs every time something doesn't go his way.

“I don't whine or beg, I simply-”

Or is it that you're just as powerless as I am if I don't feel like listening to you?

The Narrator huffed in disbelief. Stanley smirked.

“You're a part of the story, which I have created. I could erase you from existence with the flick of my wrist, if I wanted to.”

Stanley kissed him lovingly.

But you don't. You think I don't know how helpless you'd be without me, but I do, and you love that. You love being at my mercy.

The Narrator opened his mouth as if ready to disagree, but no words escaped his throat. It was no worth denying it, they both knew. Stanley chuckled soundlessly. Then, he got up to his knees, the Narrator's body between them, and tugged lightly at the towel wrapped around the man's waist.

Besides, who'd give you mind-blowing head if I wasn't here?

The Narrator squirmed in place. Well, who was he to go against Stanley's wishes?