Chapter Text
The Narrator stood behind the back of the couch.
Stanley sat up and looked at him.
"Well?"
He took a deep breath, snickered.
Then began full blown laughing.
Already? Already?! Damn! Stanley knew The Narrator was needy! But he didn't think he was this needy!
"WHA- NEEDY?!"
He fell off the couch in a curled up ball, hands clutching his sore sides and eyes shut with tears.
So needy it practically radiated off of him!
Stanley would have kept laughing at the absurdity of it all but he needed to properly breathe eventually, so he calmed down his laughter and giggled instead.
Uncurling himself, he propped himself up on his elbows. Opening his eyes, his giggling stopped.
There was a shadow looming over him.
Looking up, heh. The Narrator scowled down at him with hands on his hips.
Stanley got back onto his feet and started walking towards the keypad. He wondered which ending to head towards for that quick reset.
2… 8… 4… 5…
He scratched the museum off his mental list, she could definitely hear them both through that whole exchange. That left the countdown ending and, ugh, the freedom ending. But both of them took so long, well he supposed the freedom ending might be a tad faster if he stepped out through the open door as soon as the invisible wall was deactivated-
"What?"
Stanley stopped dead in his tracks, foot hovering over where his boss’s office ends, and where the secret passage began.
What did he mean by 'what'? He could read all of Stanley's thoughts. Nothing should be confusing him right now.
A deep blush spread through The Narrator's face and he gestured to the tent still in Stanley’s pants.
Yeah? And? That's why he was heading towards an ending to reset. The Narrator should know this.
"Of course I do! But it doesn't make your decision any less confusing!"
An eyebrow raised, go on.
A sound had started coming out of the man's lips, but he shut them and looked away.
He could practically be begging right now.
"I didn't even say anything!"
He didn't have to. Stanley's thoughts from earlier still held truth, neediness radiated off of him.
How adorable .
That blush deepened and his face contorted into an obviously forced frown.
Did The Narrator always get this way with compliments? Stanley was sure he must of accidently thought nice things about him once in a while, much to his own dismay. But he had never gotten these types of reactions out of him before.
Stanley began walking towards The Narrator.
Perhaps it was because this praise was accompanied with the rest of his thoughts. So many thoughts of absolutely ravishing the dashing , older man.
A shaky exhale fell from his lips.
When The Narrator looked back to face him, he was already mere inches away from him. With the help of the subtle height difference, Stanley peered down at him.
What a delectable shade of red that was.
Glasses all foggy? Lovely.
Stanley reached his hand out, a finger on the bridge of the man's glasses. Pulling them down slightly he could see the eyes behind them searching. He felt a sense of pride, all of this just from some silly little thoughts?
“You’re one to talk! Your thoughts are begging you to do something to me!”
But those are mere thoughts! You can’t condemn humans for thoughts. Besides, it’s much different than say… showing your desperation. How did Stanley look in this moment, compared to how The Narrator looked?
He hoped that if he focused on the sight in front of him, that The Narrator would be able to see the image of himself in Stanley’s thoughts. Was he correct? Could The Narrator see the irresistible sight in his mind?
The Narrator shivered.
“I-”
Stanley shoved his glasses back up his face and then gave a little boop to his nose before turning around.
Adorable . He sang the word in a joyful tone in his head.
Now, to get rid of this problem. He stepped through the passageway to make his way towards the elevator.
“You just said irresistible?! And of all of the thoughts swirling around in your head, why are you following those ones?!”
Please, The Narrator wasn’t THAT irresistible. Stanley knew he was stronger, he didn’t think with his dick like The Narrator apparently did. Or- huh, if you thought about it, it did seem strange considering he didn’t normally have any parts as a disembodied voice. Yet he still seemed to be able to think with a nonexistent dick, as his eagerness led him to immediately spawn in his human model for more.
Actually, following this train of thought, why did Stanley have such a detailed model like this in the first place? There would be no point to it in this type of game. You wouldn’t even expect him to be able to take off any of his clothes, but he could, and underneath was a fully modeled body with functioning parts.
You would expect something like that in games with much more mature ratings and themes.
The Narrator made no comment.
Stanley pressed the button to go down in the elevator, and as he did so, he felt a dark grin spread through his face.
He was right. This was so much better than just discomfort.
Perhaps another time he would indulge with The Narrator, but right now he found the absurdity of the moment just too funny to not mess with him.
When Stanley woke up in his office he was free of his problem, for now. His thoughts still fluttered to various fantasies along with bits of praise here and there.
He decided it would be fun to make a mental note of what gave him the best reactions. A tiny change in tone here, a script deviation there.
A hitch in breath in the meeting room where he imagined himself sitting atop the table, stroking himself as his eyes were locked on the gorgeous man sitting in the chair ahead of him. No one else would be using the room though. This was supposed to be a private show, all for him .
A gasp in his own office where he’d struggle with getting work done, not with The Narrator under his desk putting that divine mouth to work. Stanley would reach down to stroke a hand through his hair, a reward for being so good for him.
Stanley kept this up for multiple runs.
Drinking in so many intoxicating sounds.
He found himself in the elevator across from his boss's office, sitting against the wall listening to the music. The Narrator wasn’t humming along like usual though.
Did The Narrator understand how nice touch could be? It was one thing to simply be perceived . It was another thing to have hands gliding over your skin to experience you. It’s electrifying.
A stifled moan.
Such a beautiful sound.
He stood up, deciding it was time to reset the game once more. He was reaching the limit of how long he could put up with the tightness of his pants.
But when Stanley walked into his boss’s office, there stood The Narrator in front of the desk.
Stanley gave him a mischievous smile and a little wave.
Heh. Hi there.
Anyways, he walked past the desk and entered the code into the keypad.
“How much longer are you going to draw this out, Stanley!?” The Narrator failed to hide the whine in his voice.
Until it stopped being entertaining to him. He stepped through the open passageway.
“Are you really that stubborn that you’d ignore your own needs just to mess with me?”
Stanley was about to press the elevator’s down button until-
“Or is it that you’re actually nervous?”
He stepped away from the elevator and back into the office.
What did The Narrator just say?
The Narrator was now standing in front of the couch, arms motioning casually as he talked.
“I said, I think you’re just nervous.”
The stubborn office worker immediately stomped over and pushed him down onto the couch.
Okay, that was it. Stanley was going to fuck his brains out now.
The Narrator fell back onto the couch with an oof . There was an attempt to fix his crooked glasses but when he reached up, Stanley was already over him, knees bracketing his hips, hands reaching to cup his jaw, then tilting his head up to face him. The Narrator held onto Stanley’s wrists.
A thumb pressed against his bottom lip which parted in response.
Such.
An.
Intoxicating .
Sight.
A shaky exhale escaped those lips.
Stanley replaced his thumb with his own lips, shutting his eyes with knitted brows.
Those glasses dug into his face but he didn’t care. He was too focused on devouring the man underneath him. Focused on proving him wrong. Shoving a tongue inside and exploring, hands tilting his head for a deeper angle.
A pair of hands found their way to hold onto Stanley’s hips.
What a needy old man.
They parted with a gasp, The Narrator’s eyes fluttering open to reveal beautiful dilated pupils.
The hands on his hips tightened.
Repeat, what a needy old man.
Stanley took in their current positioning and decided it needed to change.
He got up for only a second, just to grab onto the needy man’s shoulders and shove him to the side. When The Narrator repositioned himself he now laid back on the couch lengthwise. Stanley climbed back over him, slotting himself between his legs and pinning down his wrists to the sides of his head.
The office worker bent down to graze at his neck with his teeth, an experimental grind of his hips drawing out a stifled moan.
That wouldn’t do. Stanley needed to hear that wonderful voice. He bit down.
He was rewarded with another moan, this time with no attempt at suppression.
Beautiful .
“Stanley, please,” he whined.
Well, since the needy man asked so nicely, he lifted himself just enough to begin unbuttoning his own shirt. As he finished and moved onto getting those damn pants off finally, he wondered if The Narrator was gonna take care of his own clothes. He was the desperate one after all.
“I am not desperate, Stanley!”
Yeah, right. Definitely didn’t spawn in his human model out of the desperation of wanting- no, needing some action.
With a huff, The Narrator snapped his fingers and all of his clothes were gone. Well, all except for his glasses, did he even need them? Probably not, he probably just thought they made him look smarter.
The Narrator, who previously had his eyes locked onto Stanley’s hands as they worked on his own clothes, turned to look away at anything but Stanley.
Right on the money.
Adorable .
Finally free of his confines, Stanley was about to dive back in but was stopped by a tap on his shoulder. The Narrator was holding up a small bottle of lube.
Good point actually. He took the bottle from the needy bastard and soon enough had a finger circling around The Narrator’s entrance.
“You’re the needy one,” he mumbled.
Stanley decided to shove two fingers in at once, drinking in the shocked yelp. He hoped it burned.
“Of- course- you do.” The response was panted out.
He dove back in to resume biting the man’s neck as he worked him. With the brush of a bundle of nerves The Narrator arched up into him with a loud gasp, and damn if the sudden friction didn’t make Stanley want to immediately replace his fingers with his dick.
But he was strong, he continued to work the bastard just a bit more before retracting his fingers with a whine from the other.
Stanley bit down hard when he finally pushed in, mentally punching himself for all the teasing and not doing this sooner.
It sounded an awful lot like the Narrator was laughing through his pants, but a rough thrust of his hips replaced that annoying laughter with a beautiful low moan instead.
Good, fuck off.
He decided to start with an agonizingly slow pace, just to fuck with him of course. Licking a long stripe up from where his neck met his shoulder to his jaw with a shudder and whine from the gorgeous man underneath him.
“Please,” he desperately whined.
Ok, as a reward for being so polite, Stanley picked up the pace.
It felt heavenly . He moaned as his thoughts spat out praise after praise, each one earning him a delicious sound back.
Gorgeous , wonderful , amazing , incredible .
A gasp, a whine, a moan, a plea, Stanley relished in all of it, tightening his grip on the man’s hips.
Beautiful .
Fingernails dug into his back as the gorgeous man arched up into him.
Absolutely intoxicating .
The Narrator came with a shout.
Stanley wasn’t far behind, collapsing onto him after just a few more rough thrusts.
There he lay, breathing heavily against his bruised neck.
What was that about being nervous?
“I must’ve just been mistaken.” There was a satisfied yet smug tone to his words.
Good.
He sighed as he laid there for a moment. Despite the stickiness, the skin contact wasn’t bad, actually it was kind of nice-
Welp, Stanley wasn’t a sap. He got up, reaching for his pants.
Time to get that reset now.