beverly & stan
If he'd been asked just weeks ago whether or not he and Beverly Marsh were ever going to lock lips he'd have laughed, not because it wasn't something he would have hated as much as it was exactly the sort of thing that he was sure enough would never actually happen. And yet there he was, holding a tray of vegetables in the middle of a Christmas party having kissed her twice now, and well - absolutely not hating life at all.
Stan found a place for the tray and set it down, shoving the cheese dicks off to one side just a bit, Eddie's kid dads were here after all shouldn't they be trying to make like some sort of an attempt at a good impression? It was a lost cause he knew, they were Losers after all, but he was still gonna try thank you very much.
In any case, he was off to find Bev and the drinks after that and would leave the good impressions to someone other than him now that he'd done his part.
And with a shot glass in hand he shook his head, "Bottoms up I guess," he huffed tipping his head back as he took the shot she offered him and then offered her his hand. "Suppose it wouldn't really be a party without dancing," He decided, as he pulled her away from the drinks and into a more open space where they could actually dance without danger of knocking over anything or anyone. "But I'm going to warn you, I never did have much rhythm." Dances has never been something he'd ever been particularly good at, too much worrying about where to put his hands, and moving to the rhythm of the music, and not bumping into the people around him, and how his feet should move - there was a lot to think about at times like this.