Title: Married Or Something
Author: Donnie
Fandom: IT
Setting: Henry's House
Pairing: Henry Bowers/Victor Criss
Characters: Victor Criss, Butch Bowers, Henry Bowers
Genre: Humor/Friendship
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 382
Type of Work: Daily Drabble
Status: Complete
Warnings: Pining, Butch Cursing, Implied Henry Wetting The Bed
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Vic didn't like to speak much around other people, but he could listen. Somewhat.
AN: Decided I'm going to try and work on requests and things today for my IT blog, Bangbangbowersgang. Requests are still closed until I get some of them whittled down, so I'm thinking I'm going to be working on them for a while, see what I can come up with. It's been a while since I was into it this much, and I'm definitely feeling the need to write my children again. I hope you guys enjoy this silly little thing!
Married Or Something ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was far from the first time that Vic had washed Henry's laundry for him. Sometimes, he used the washing machine at his own house, but out at Henry and Butch's place, he had to do everything by hand. Apparently, Butch just preferred it that way. Honestly, Vic wasn't too bothered by it; it left a burn in his muscles that was better than sex on most days. Plus, it kept Henry from feeling too embarrassed. He'd made a habit of taking the sheets and most of what Henry was wearing to bed during their sleepover outside to start when he woke up.
Hanging up the white full sheet over the line, he clipped it down, only to hear footsteps approaching behind him. Dry grass and gravel crunched under heavy boots, and he started to turn with a smile on his face. Upon seeing the wrong Bowers man, his smile faltered and dropped as Butch surveyed his work with a critical eye.
"Awful good at that, aren'tcha?" Oh, God, he definitely wasn't going to be kind. "Thought your family had a machine."
"I still do things by hand at home, sometimes, sir." Vic's eyes dropped to the grass and he bent once more to grab the next thing he needed to wash: Henry's shirt. Thankfully it hadn't been his boxers.
"You just like being his little bitch boy, then?" Butch observed neutrally, taking a sip of the soda in his hand. It was only ten am, probably too early for a cop, off duty or not, to start drinking, "Doin' his laundry and holdin' his damn hand everywhere?" They didn't really hold hands. As much as Vic would have jumped at the chance, Henry wasn't interested in boys and he kept his mouth shut.
"No, sir. I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." He replied, as respectfully as he could.
"It's like yer married or something." Those words easily drowned out anything else that Butch had to say, and as Vic turned back to the line to clip the shirt to it, he was grinning like a big goofball. It wasn't exactly permission, and if Henry was caught so much as thinking about another guy like that, he'd end up dead… But it was a good dream to dream.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN:
