Apples and Shotguns

Jealous

Things had been... strained, between them lately. Not that they weren't before. But this really took the cake. Henry was growing more and more frustrated. In more ways than one-but that was beside the point.

His dreams were getting worse. A lot more... vivid too. They always stopped far too soon. And he always ended up taking a cold shower after he woke up. If Wilbur knew about them he was doing a damn good job hiding it.

To be honest, he didn't know how he felt knowing that Wilbur might actually know already. The man was a sleazeball. And a pervert. And wouldn't know fashion if it hit him in the face-honestly who wore so much denim? What was even the point?

He was so cocky and arrogant too. And knew nothing of personal boundaries or privacy.

Point being he was everything Henry loathed wrapped up in a denim bow. So why, pray tell, did he not? It was driving him mad. And he just really needed to vent his frustrations.

Now, usually he'd call up Hatchetfield's own resident sleazeball, but Ted was having this whole thing with Charlotte. Which was a shame. He really did enjoy being called 'King'... and choking the bastard.

There was a loud crunch right beside him. He didn't even have to look up from his book to know it was Wilbur.

"Spankoffski, huh?"

"Would it kill you to leave my thoughts alone?" Henry huffed, irritated more than anything.

"You make it kinda hard, Dove." Another bite of the apple. Had his teeth always been so damn sharp? Henry's eyes followed a line of juice trailing down his chin. "You know, the more you think about me, the more likely I'm gonna see what's in that head of yours."

"... What-"

"And you've been thinking about me a lot. Especially at night. I'm kinda flattered." There was that fucking smirk again. Wilbur leaned forward, "If you want me to fuck you so badly, all you gotta do is ask."

Henry turned to face him. "And what makes you think I'd stoop so low?"

He grins, eyes flicking downward. "I think you know." Because Henry, despite his best efforts, was still incredibly turned on.

His face flushed, immediately turning away from him. "God, you're disgusting."

"If I'm disgusting, what does that make you?" He felt that right against his ear.

"Not nearly desperate enough." Henry still had his little black book. There had to be someone in Hatchetfield who'd be willing enough. If not, well, he did know of a few places in town. Completely anonymous. He'd take his chances there before even considering giving Wilbur the satisfaction of being right.

And that's exactly what he did.

For the past few days he'd either leave his home or invite someone over. His latest hook-up however....

"I can't actually believe you-" Henry huffed once the front door was closed, he was still partially dressed and plenty a mess. "You just had to scare him away, didn't you? I mean-really!" Making his house into a haunted horror spectacle was one thing, but doing it just to cock block him? Now that was too far.

It wasn't like these hook-ups were actually helping Henry, if anything they were only making him more frustrated. Not that the sex wasn't good-it was just... eh, lackluster. Bland. He was just going through the motions.

"You are so-" his hands were fumbling with the locks, scowling all the while. "So-ugh!" He wanted to strangle him. He just didn't get what the issue was. The last time he brought a guy home he didn't say anything. Just-made an appearance. Henry had been spooked but he didn't say anything, just pulled his partner in close until Wilbur left-which felt like forever.

It wasn't the being watched that ticked him off, in fact he rather enjoyed it-but let's not get into that.

"So 'what'?" He was right behind him when Henry turned around, the professor just about walking into him.

Henry looked him right in the eye. Standing firm. As if he'd back down willingly. Not for anyone, and certainly not for him. "Jealous."

"Jealous-"

"Oh wait, no. I'm sorry. Let me correct myself. You see," Henry put a hand on his chest, "'Jealousy' is when you're afraid someone may take something you have. And you don't 'have me'. So, envious suits you better, don't you think?"

"You're full of yourself, Hidgens." Wilbur scoffed, grabbing his wrist. But instead of pushing Henry away he pulls him closer. He smirks when Henry stumbles into him, "Who says I don't have you? I certainly occupy that mind of yours enough."

"Hah!" It's a bitter laugh, "I don't hear you denying it, Cross."

"Funny, I can say the same." It's... oddly soft, the way he says it. Almost makes Henry think he's imagined it. "You know, sure would hate to waste all that prep-"

Henry gave him a light smack as he laughed, "I knew you were watching me earlier too-"

"Yeah, yeah. Get used to it. Say... how do you feel about creampies?"

"I... thought apple was your favorite?"

Later, Wilbur would ask the same question again while laying in Henry's bed, sharing a cigarette. And Henry still wouldn't get it until even later, when he looked it up on urban dictionary.