Nive, haunted house shenanigans, for megan-the-magical on tumblr.
"Gonnagetcha," Stanley chanted, grabbing Cody's shoulders suddenly for the god-only-knew-how-many-this-made time that night.
"I'll stick this caramel apple in your hair," Cody warned.
Stanley made a show of holding up his hands, twisting his wiry body away from the offending treat. "Hey hey, no call for that; we're all bored here." This last he directed at one of the poorly-hidden hidden cameras meant to catch their reactions. "Seriously. Rush hour in high school hall was scarier than this shit."
"The snacks are good, though," said Cody absently, distracted by the careful maneuvering it took to bite into the apple without getting caramel all over his face.
Stanley took no such care when he swiped the apple, ignoring the indignant "hey!" that followed, and tore into it with a crunch. He chewed loudly, obnoxiously, not seeming to notice or care about the candy smeared across his cheek. "Damn straight. Was that there the first time we came through?"
Cody halted, his gaze following the pointing finger to a small, dark archway tucked into the corner between the wall and a glass display case of moving mannequins. "…Huh," he said, after a moment. "Don't think so."
Stanley looked at him, dark eyes glinting with mischief, and grinned. "I dare you."
Cody frowned. "I un-dare me. We've already been in here four times tonight, and it's almost time for the hayride."
Stanley scoffed. "You can't just un-dare yourself!"
"Can too," replied Cody, evenly. "We agreed after last time. Remember? Neon-green asses for a month?"
"Bullshit. No way would I have agreed to that. And it wasn't even a month. More like three weeks." He took another messy bite. "Whatever. I'm going in there and you can't stop me, and I'm taking your apple."
So saying, he ducked down and waddled into the darkness of the archway, scooting his feet as loudly as possible probably just to be annoying.
Cody glanced around the gloomily-lit hallway, ending with an apologetic look at the hidden camera, and followed him.
"That must be a candied apple in your pocket, because you don't look very happy to see me," observed Stanley, after they nearly burned down the haunted house.
"I swear to god," Cody muttered, his face a thunderhead, "the next time you ask me to follow you into a goddamn heating duct—"
"Can't help it," Stanley said airily. "I'm infected with the spirit of adventure."
He looked Cody over properly for the first time since they'd been pulled out of the vent, and noticed with a sudden twinge of worry the angry burns on his elbows. "You okay?"
Cody ducked his head, tried to cross his arms, thought better of it. "Yeah. Hit a hot wall. I'm fine."
A moment of awkward silence, and then "sorry"; and then Stanley planted a sloppy, sticky, off-angled kiss on the corner of Cody's mouth, by way of apology.
He responded by ducking his head further, blushing beet-red.
"I'm fine," he repeated, taking Stanley's hand in one of his, reaching up to touch the intersection of cheek and mouth and caramel with the other. "And you're buying me another apple."