Henry Bowers X Patrick Hockstetter

Jackets [1/2]

[Third Person POV]

Henry sat quiet in the old car, patiently waiting. He was listening to Belch and Victor arguing about something. It sounded heated but it was too stupid to be serious. They were sat outside of the Hockstetter house, windows up and car turned off. It was raining and Belch didn't want the seats too wet other than opening the doors to enter. Belch and Victor had jackets of their own but Henry sat isolate in one of Patrick's jackets. It was obvious it belonged to the lanky boy, Henry didn't wear too many things on the gray scale but Patrick did. And Patrick had taken him one day after an aggressive beating, like it usually was. They had stayed together the whole night while Patrick held and comforted him with surrounding him in his things. Patrick had a distinct scent, like anyone did, and Henry loved it. He had taken the jacket and now wanted to flaunt it at him. Patrick wouldn't mind it missing, he didn't care as long as Henry was pleased.

Henry perked up from seeing the front door open and Patrick departing from the building. He walked over quickly, reaching for the door. Henry just opened it for him and scooted his way over to the other side. Patrick huffed and got in, shutting the door behind himself.

"Thanks." He looked at Henry and seemed to pause, tilting his head and squinting his eyes. "That's mine."

"Mhmm."

He seemed to stare more intently than Henry thought he would of a reaction.

"You want it back?" He mumbled. Patrick didn't respond. Belch sorta chirped up from the front.

"I can drop y'all off at your little cabin thing? You said something about it earlier, Henry?"

"Sure." Patrick's voice was harsh now. It made Henry nervous.

"Yeah, we can do that," he mumbled as he just quietly unzipped the jacket he was wearing and slid it off his arms before folding it sloppily and setting it in his lap. He was unsure what made this time feel so much more irking but he hated it and he didn't want to see Patrick anymore genuinely angrier than he already was. Patrick was never angry like this. At least he didn't express it. He was a stupid, grinny guy who just said stupid shit, Henry thought as the silence grew whilst Belch started the car. Did he do something wrong? Why now was Patrick suddenly so upset with him?

"Henry?"

He perked up from the familiar voice so close to himself and looked to his left. He paused to see Patrick staring at him with his eyes somewhat lidded but entirely open, as Henry seemed to explain to himself from the odd feature. Patrick just stared at him, waiting. Henry never minded Patrick's gaze but now he wanted to bury himself to get away from it and he hated that feeling. He loved teasing Patrick, laughing with him, and being watched with both his soft calming eyes and even when attention was drawn to himself in a crazed fashion. But he hated this with his entire soul.

"Henry. Get out of the car," Patrick growled. Henry sorta perked and hurriedly got out, pushing Patrick to the side as he walked to the small house. It was abandoned, not long enough to look abandoned. It was their own clubhouse and they thought it was cool.
Henry hurried inside, setting the jacket on the couch for Patrick but squeaked as Patrick hugged him tight around the chest, pushing his arms against his body and trapping him. Henry just shut his eyes and pressed his lips together. He didn't know what he did but he was terrified.

"I won't take it again," he whispered. He whined as Patrick leaned close to his ear. Suddenly, he softly caressed the outside part of his ear which Henry sorta paused from and consider the responses he could react with. He didn't know exactly what Patrick even did but it felt weird, almost wrong-in the way of touching a texture you'd never expect to be from how it was visually presented.