A/N: Chapter 3- Midnight. Hope you enjoy! Here's a bit of fluff mixed with a bit of angst. Since we got in Lefou's head last time I figured this time we'd foray into Stanley's.
In the dark, Stanley can be everything he never could be in the light of day.
He can wear a dress and makeup. He can be beautiful.
Most importantly, he can be Lefou's lover.
He can curl up next to his partner and whisper the things he could never say otherwise; the things that could get them killed if they aren't careful.
When Lefou falls asleep- because he's always the first to nod off- Stanley can reveal even more of himself. He whispers all the things he's not confident enough to tell Lefou when the latter is actually awake.
He tells him how he loves him and wants to spend the rest of his life with him.
He tells him how he wishes he were in another world, one where they could be open about their love. Sometimes he even wishes aloud that he could be a woman, not only so he could be pretty but so he and Lefou could be married. Then again, he knows rationally that being a woman would make it impossible for Lefou to be drawn to him that way regardless.
Still, he wishes. Some nights bring a fervent desire out in him, a desperate need for acceptance. He aches to show the world who they really are without fearing for their lives.
Other nights bring out a protective side of him. He'll wrap his arms around Lefou and whisper how sorry he is for what he never saw, or, perhaps, for what he saw but didn't want to admit to seeing. He promises that Lefou will never be hurt again as long as Stanley is alive. That he will use his dying breath to protect and comfort Lefou if he has the chance. When the dark thought crosses him, he tells Lefou that he'd better not leave first, that they'll both have to go at the same time, in half a century or so.
He'll trace his fingers gently over Lefou's skin, making sure to keep his touch light but not so much as to accidentally hit a ticklish spot. He'll feel the rough scar tissue and remember the stories behind them. One from the war. Lefou always refused to talk about that one, refused to say how a medic like himself got injured. Another scar from a normal childhood accident. Stanley had been there that day. They'd been playing, climbing trees, and Lefou had fallen. He'd been lucky not to break a bone; it was the resilience of childhood that kept him out of danger.
And lastly he'll feel the mark that makes him shudder, the one in the shape of Gaston's teeth on Lefou's stomach. That one always makes him feel slightly nauseous, for he knows how painful it would have been. Stanley himself has a nearly identical mark on his leg. Wrestling had always brought out a feral side to Gaston. He would seemingly forget he was simply sparring with friends, and would fight to seriously injure. Stanley thinks that anyone who ever wrestled with Gaston is lucky not to be maimed.
Lefou's stomach scar always makes Stanley shake his head. It must have been infinitely more painful than his own leg injury. It makes that fierce protective side bloom, hands tightening around Lefou ever so slightly in anger. The thought of Lefou being injured is both infuriating and agonizing.
No matter what sort of thoughts Stanley has that night, he always ends his soft words with a series of promises that he can't sleep without vocalizing. He promises Lefou that he will never be mistreated or taken for granted. He promises Lefou that he'll always be safe.
Most importantly, he promises Lefou that he'll love him forever. Not just until he takes his last breath, but until his soul dies too. Until the heavens fall and there's nothing left in the universe for anyone to love.
Only once he has finally said those soft and desperate words will he allow himself to fall asleep, arms wrapped around Lefou securely and lips pressed to the top of Lefou's head.