Archive of Our Own ^beta

The short, constant ticking of the clock on Stanley’s wall in his office was starting to slowly drive him insane, droning into his brain like an earworm that he couldn’t get out. Stanley inhaled slowly, taking a sharp breath in, before holding it a moment to look around his office room, and then exhaling, flexing his fingers and knuckles a bit to distract himself. That wasn’t going to be enough for him, though, he thought to himself. Stanley needed more stimulation than this, this was driving him insane, and making him oddly depressed. So, Stanley decided to do something about it, and got up from his office chair, where he sat most of his time and just pushed buttons on his keyboard when the narrator wasn’t around to constantly drone on about getting another ending, or going on another adventure through the office complex. To say that he was annoyed by the narrator was a lie, a white lie even. He enjoyed the narrator’s company, even if that stupid man made him angry, or annoyed at times. Hell, even when The narrator would torment him, it left a sour feeling in his chest, but it would go away eventually when the narrator apologized for his behavior later on.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Stanley shuffled out of his office and started trudging through the main office rooms. He had gotten used to how quiet and alone it was at this point. He didn’t even remember how long he had been here, decades? He figured he was immortal at this point, then again he wouldn’t be surprised. The narrator couldn’t afford to lose him, which just confused the office worker. What about him was so special? The narrator has said himself that he could just easily make a new person, move on and replace Stanley whenever he pleases, but..he didn’t. He kept Stanley around, even with all of his bullshit and shenanigans he got into. That led to another thought in the office worker’s mind, where was the Narrator? Stanley usually started to get anxious when he didn’t hear his voice over that stupid microphone of his, his British accent so sweet that it dripped like honey- wait, why did he compare it to that? His voice was not sweet, it was sadistic. The thought was so confusing that it stopped Stanley in his tracks for a second, blinking away his confusion before realizing where he was.

He was in the employee lounge, right in the middle of it, actually. How long had he been stuck in his thoughts for? He shook the thought away with a small shake of his head, before he huffed, letting his shoulders sag at his sides, his eyes half lidded with bags under them as he scanned the lounge. Nothing new seemed to be here, still the broken soda machine, same paintings, same potted plants..he was surprised those were still alive. Stanley sauntered over to the long couch against one of the walls of the employees lounge and flopped over onto it, half of his body drooping off of the couch, to which he lazily pulled the rest of his body up onto it. Stanley flipped over onto his back, shuffling uncomfortably until he was settled, and rested his hands on his stomach, aimlessly staring at the ceiling above. He counted 5 minutes he just laid there staring at the ceiling before he started to doze off, his breathing getting slower as his eyes slowly began closing. Maybe he could get a nap in before The narrator came back and kept him awake for another week straight. It was peaceful for once, just him and the quiet hum of the lights above, and nothing else.

“ STANLEY! “

He spoke too soon. Stanley practically screeched and flipped off of the couch, falling on his stomach with a loud thump, followed by a groan.

“Oh-! My apologies, Stanley, I didn’t mean to frighten you there.”

The British man spoke. Stanley was never too sure where his voice came from, did his voice just follow him from room to room, or was it in his head? He wasn’t too sure. Snapping out of his thoughts again, Stanley sat up, rubbing his head and glaring at the ceiling, which is where he usually looked when the narrator was talking to him, It was a subconscious thing he seemed to do whenever the Narrator started to speak. All Stanley heard in return was a small, embarrassed chuckle at the fact that It had just scared Stanley shitless, and made him fall off the couch like a damn cat. Slowly, Stanley got up off the ground, and huffed in an annoyed way, flopping back down onto the couch.

“Come on, Stanley, I apologized! Besides, I have quite an interesting story to tell you!”

A story, huh? As long as it wasn’t his own story, he was interested in hearing what the Narrator had to say. Raising a brow, Stanley shifted a bit to raise a brow at the voice, before hearing papers shuffling, and the sound of the Narrator clearing his throat.

“Ah- here, hold on. I feel like it would be better to tell you this story in person.”

It hummed, Before Stanley felt weight near his feet. Sitting up slightly, Stanley spotted the narrator sitting on the couch Stanley was on, legs crossed and holding neatly folded papers in his hands. His appearance was well kept and mannered, his hair slicked back and pulled into a neat ponytail, his glasses resting delicately against his nose bridge, and those vibrant yellow eyes, just like sunshine peeking at him from behind the glasses. Stanley took note of the narrator’s outfit, too, which was a dark gray suit with a yellow tie. Stanley couldn’t help but swallow thickly at the Narrator’s sudden appearance, and look away nervously for a second to keep his composure.

“I think you will really like this story, Stanley! I know how much you enjoy listening to them, then again you listen a lot, you don’t really talk much.”

The Narrator noted, to which Stanley squinted at him. Was that supposed to be an insult? Or a light hearted note? Stanley couldn’t tell, but tried not to think too much on that comment. Stanley shuffled and sat up more, inviting the Narrator to get closer so Stanley could hear him better, before the Narrator turned towards Stanley, Flashing him a joyful smile.

“Ah, well, you seem interested in hearing, like always, so I will tell you!”

He Chuckled, skimming through his papers for a second and adjusting his glasses, before speaking once more, not really giving Stanley any time to ponder what the story was even going to be about.

“Picture this, Stanley: you know how there’s aquariums, right?”

The Narrator seemed to pause after his question, like he was waiting for Stanley to respond. It took Stanley a minute to realize that The Narrator was looking for a response, before flexing his fingers in embarrassment, and nodding slowly. He actually never went to an actual aquarium, but he remembered how the Narrator would talk to him about them, and that it was one of many things humans did. It kind of unnerved Stanley that he never did a lot of things that the Narrator would ramble to him about that his kind would do. He had never been outside of his office building, even, unless he got the freedom ending or went to the memory zone, or somewhere else that the Narrator took him for fun.

“Well, I was thinking. What if Aquariums were more..open? Like, what if fish or aquatic mammals like whales and such, didn’t have to just stay in water?”

Stanley raised an eyebrow at this statement, he didn’t completely understand what It was trying to get at, but he didn’t really say anything, but nodded a little to show that he was listening.

“Imagine it, Stanley! Whales, Sharks, Fish, any aquatic animal you can think of! Swimming freely in the air, how whimsical would that be?!”

The only aquatic animal that Stanley really knew about was a goldfish. He had a small grasp on these other things that the Narrator talked about, like sharks. Sharks were just big fish with multiple rows of sharp teeth, and whales were like sharks but without teeth, and way bigger. The narrator continued to ramble on and on about this entire concept of Fish being able to just freely swim around in the air and not in water, while Stanley listened silently to this ramble of his. Stanley couldn’t help but notice the way that the Narrator enthusiastically asked Stanley questions, but would just continue to ramble, like he was just excited and wanted to display it in a certain way. The way his voice got higher and louder the more and more excited he got, even the way his sunny yellow eyes glimmered with delight had Stanley feeling a type of way. Stanley couldn’t put his finger on it, but he could feel his face heating up slightly as he delved deeper into his thoughts, though remembering to nod or go “mhm.” Every once in a while at Narrator’s rambling.

Stanley continued to stare at the Narrator blankly while he rambled, watching the Narrator shuffle in his spot every few seconds, like his excitement was so much that he couldn’t stay still. Stanley found this..oddly cute? Was that the right word? Yeah. Cute. Cute. Cute? Why was he thinking that out of anything else? It made his face heat up more, tapping his finger on his thigh unconsciously as he continued to ponder these thoughts, his gaze never leaving the narrator as he continued to chatter on and on. Stanley sighed internally and relaxed a bit, slumping into the couch a little more, continuing to contemplate these random thoughts. Stanley wanted to get to the bottom of these thoughts of his, but as he tried to, more of them just flooded in as he stared at the narrator. Like how clean and well put together he appeared, how perfect his smile was, his laugh whenever he made a joke and found it funny himself. All of these thoughts hit Stanley at once, until he came to a conclusion; oh my god. I’m in love with the Narrator.

Stanley’s face heated up more at the realization, but he tried his best to hide it from the older man. Stanley continued to listen to the narrator ramble on and on for the next three hours, both of them getting tired as it got later in the night, before the Narrator smiled softly, and finally took a deep breath to calm his thinking after that story of his.

“Ah, well. I’ve bored you enough, I should be getting some rest now, and so should you if you are wanting to go on another adventure.”

Stanley didn’t reply at first, just continued to stare at the narrator, to which the narrator slowly waved a hand in front of his face, soon enough snapping his fingers in the office worker’s face, which successfully snapped him out of it.

“You should get some rest, Stanley. You’re starting to dissociate on me here.”

The narrator purred out softly. Okay, maybe Stanley sees why he compared Its voice to honey, because god if it wasn’t sweet to his ears to hear. Stanley slumped over onto the narrator, his eyes half lidded and drooping, to which he would blink every so often to fight them to stay open. The Narrator made a small hum of surprise when Stanley actually initiated physical Contact with him, but he didn’t mind it. The narrator let out a content sigh, before slowly running his fingers through the sleep deprived Office worker’s hair, which felt absolutely heavenly. Stanley let out a long sigh of air that he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Stay..?”

Stanley managed to murmur out softly. The Narrator contemplated the request for a moment or two, before letting out a small laugh, which just made Stanley feel All weird and tingly inside. The Narrator shuffled, laying down slightly and letting Stanley lay on top of him. Stanley let out a soft grumble and sigh, wrapping his arms around the narrator’s waist unknowingly, and burying his face in the narrator’s shoulder.

“Alright, Alright, but if you wake up and I’m not here, don’t complain to me!”

The narrator joked, but soon enough went quiet as he heard soft snores coming from Stanley. He peered down at the taller man for a moment, before sighing and going back to running his hands through Stanley’s hair. Closing his eyes with content and smiling softly.

“Sleep well, Stanley.”