Title: Walk You Home
Author: Donnie
Fandom: IT
Setting: Derry, Belch's House
Pairing: Belch Huggins/Victor Criss
Characters: Belch Huggins, Victor Criss, Belch's Mom, Henry Bowers, Patrick Hockstetter, Pet OC: Sprinkles the Opossum
Genre: Friendship/Romance
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 1283
Type of Work: One-Shot, Tumblr Request
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Ankle Injury, Fluff, Shit-Talking Patrick
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Vic should have spoken up two days ago.
AN: Here's another one of the Injured Meme prompts! I'm excited for this one, I don't write enough of this ship and I feel like it needs to be done. I hope you guys are asl excited for this as I am. Here we go!
Walk You Home ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Belch always worried about how easy it was to pick Vic up. The boy weighed less than all the Weekly Shopper booklets he delivered every few days. Still, it did make things like this a lot easier.
"So… What did you do? You still didn't tell me," Belch tried again, prepared to be unsuccessful as he hefted Vic again by his thighs, trying to adjust the other's position on his back. It was hard to do without jostling his right ankle too much, but at least Vic had finally consented to being carried. That didn't mean that he had to like it, Belch supposed, if the constant wiggling spoke anything to Vic's mood.
"I didn't-" A blush rose on the blond's cheeks and he struggled again. "It was nothing."
"Doesn't look like nothing," Belch replied with a sigh. "I'm not gonna make fun of you. I'm not Patrick."
Considering this, Vic bit his lip. It was anyone's fault but his own, he hadn't seen the rock when they'd been jacking around by the water. Catching his ankle in the perfect fucking hole in that damn boulder hadn't been his plan. And then the jerk that landed him on his ass in the water with a shooting pain through his leg had been the shit cherry on his bad day cake.
"Vic, come on, just let me carry you." Belch groaned, jostling him up his back again and coaxing the other's thin arms around his neck.
"I fell when we were at the Quarry two days ago," Vic finally told him slowly, sighing as he rested his head on the other's shoulder, lips against his neck. "I think I twisted my ankle or something."
"...You realize we went running today, right?" Belch's eyes narrowed slightly. If Patrick hadn't been so adamant about chasing that fucking opossum, maybe they wouldn't have had to. It sure did shake up their 'sharing a beer in the woods' day, which was usually welcome. But, knowing now, that Vic had been hurt the whole time was boiling his blood.
"Yes..." Vic sighed, the puff of breath fanning out over the other's neck. One that Belch was hoping was attributed to the air around them. Belch almost wanted to swing him around and kiss him, but he managed to keep himself mostly still. "I didn't think we would."
"You're telling me," Belch replied, shaking his head a little bit, not entirely sure he wanted to dislodge Vic from his spot. "Sprinkles got his fucking head so twisted around. He doesn't need more opossums."
"He doesn't." Vic agreed, carefully adjusting him again and pushing him up his back a little more. "But I guess he's just an asshole."
"You're not wrong," Belch nodded thoughtfully.
"Of course not." Vic replied, sighing against the other's neck again. "Are we going to your place, or mine?"
"Mine's closer, and I have a better first aid kit." Which, again, wasn't a lie. Belch wasn't very good at lying. And even if he had been lying, Vic would have seen right through him.
"Okay." At this point, the pain was shooting all the way up his leg, and he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. What he really needed was to veg out on Belch's enormous bed and just… Sleep this off. Though he was beginning to wonder if that would do him any good anymore.
"Vic? Stay with me," Belch frowned, turning his head to see the blond biting his lip, "I can go slower-"
"Shut up and go." Gritting his teeth, Vic shook his head. "Faster I can lay down, faster I won't bitch."
Not that he was bitching in the first place. Belch was usually pretty proud of Vic for not talking a lot about his pain, for being more of a man than Patrick, who never shut up over a splinter. It was times like these, though, that he realized that maybe a bit more complaining would do them all some good.
Finally rounding up the path to his house, Belch let them in carefully before doing his best to stride right past the living room and up the stairs.
"Reginald!" His mother called, "Is that you?"
"Yeah, Mama, it's me. And Vic," He responded, hoping that he could bypass the usual conversation and just get him upstairs.
"Oh, boys, why don't you come si-"
"Can't right now, Mama, gotta take-"
"I really need to lay down, Mrs. Huggins. I have a migraine," Vic supplied, "Belch can come spend time with you while I'm resting."
That seemed to be good enough for her; she knew that he occasionally suffered migraines, as she did, and that they made her very antisocial as well. Letting them go, Belch breathed a sigh of relief as they took the stairs carefully. He would have done them two at a time, but he didn't really need to jostle Vic's leg around any more than necessary.
"Thanks," Belch murmured, finally, walking down the long hallway back to his room. "I don't think I could have made a better excuse."
"I thought you were going to tell her you had to take a shit, to be honest," Vic responded with a little laugh, shaking his head. "Just put me down in the dark and go talk to your mom. I don't know what we could do without involving the hospital. About my leg."
"Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't tell you to do it if I wasn't. I'll try and think of something." Belch opened the door to his room and a blast of cool air hit the two of them, twin sighs leaving the boys. "In bed. Put me in bed."
That thought colored Belch's cheeks nice and ruddy, but at least he could blame it on exertion. He hoped. Vic was smart, he might not believe him. Carefully stepping around the clutter and dirty clothes on his floor, he laid the other out on his mattress and delicately moved to pull his shoes off. When he got to the injured foot, his touch became a little more clumsy, but astonishingly light.
When he rose again, ready to turn off the light and leave Vic in the cool, dark room in peace, he paused feeling a soft, small hand on his arm.
"Wait a second," Vic told him, "Come here."
Doing as he was told, Belch bent at the knees to crouch beside his bed. Vic turned onto his side and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
"Thanks. For all of this," he offered with a little smile, delighting in the look on Belch's face when he pulled back. Crimson cheeks, parted lips, wide eyes, it was beautiful to know that he'd done that to him.
"I.. Uh… I mean… Yeah. No, yeah, absolutely." What was he agreeing to? The whole world seemed to have stopped, flipped upside down, and resumed again, but only at half the rate of its usual movements. Bringing his hand to his tingling lips, his smile turned large and goofy. "I'll always be here when you need me, Vic."
"I know, big guy," Vic chuckled, kissing his cheek. "Now, go make sure your Mama's okay. I'll still be here when you get back."
"Yeah… Yeah." The second one sounded much more like he'd regained control of his brain, and Belch rose after pressing a kiss to Vic's forehead. Forcing himself to turn and leave, instead of stay and see how many more kisses they could share, he flipped the switch to turn out the lights. Closing the door behind himself, he leaned back against it until the heat in his cheeks died down a little, before taking the stairs at an almost running pace.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN:
Prompt: "Let me carry you."