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Before the varicella vaccine was invented, it was a common practice for parents to hold pox parties to expose their children to the virus, as the virus can lead to much more severe consequences as an adult. It was for this reason that when Henry found himself covered in an unpleasant rash, his friends were sent over to spend the weekend with him. It was the kind of event that Butch never cared much about, but with Henry's friends around, it meant he wouldn't need to keep as close an eye on him. The one issue with the arrangement was how small Henry's room was. It wasn't the first time all four of them had stayed over, but there was a reason Henry’s house wasn't the first choice, and that wasn't because of his bastard father alone. It was crowded, but at least with the others around, Henry had a distraction from the itch.
“You need to stop scratching so much.” Vic noted as he watched their infected friend dig his nails into his face in an aggressive kind of manner, unable to miss the not-so-subtle glare he was handed over his concern. “It'll leave scars.”
“It itches.” Henry muttered out in his own defense as he lowered his hand back at his side, letting out a slight hiss when he felt some kind of warm substance on his back. “Patrick, what the fuck is that—”
“Relax, it'll help.” Patrick noted as he rubbed some of the oatmeal he had been eating into his skin, taking notice when their other two friends started to stare at them when Henry more or less melted into his touch. “What?”
“Are we going with the same arrangement as last time?” Belch asked as he cleared his throat, deciding it best to change the subject. “Henry?”
“Huh?” Henry asked as he finally acknowledged the fact that a question had been directed towards him, shoving Patrick's hands off of him in a rush before the situation could become even more awkward before he turned to answer. “Oh.. No.. You and Vic will still be on the floor, but Patrick will be in bed with me.”
“Do I have a choice in this?” Patrick questioned as he finished his snack, taking notice of the look he was handed in return, which made it clear the answer was no. “I was fine with the—”
“You're not sleeping in that damn closet again.” Henry cut in with an irritated kind of tone, shaking his head over the idea as he reflected on how Patrick seemed to favor the tight, dark, cramped space that wasn't made to sleep in over a comfortable bed. “I found a dead rat in there, and I'm not totally sure that you weren't the one that killed it.”
“Would you rather I left it alive?” Patrick asked in a manner that more or less acted as a confession, not missing the looks he was handed in return. “You said I couldn't kill the other animals—”
“You're worse than a damn cat.” Henry muttered as he cleaned the excess residue off his skin from the oatmeal, silently reflecting on the memories of the mutilated creature he found. “At least a cat wouldn't have done that shit to it.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Belch questioned with subtle hints of concern in his tone, taking the look Henry carried to mean it was better off if he didn't know. “You know what? I don't want to know.”
“You're sleeping with me.” Henry stated in a firm tone, which ended the discussion in an instant, laying back against the bed before he moved on. “Feels better when I have your nails on my back anyway.”
“Gay.” Vic remarked with a slight laugh, hissing out in pain when a pillow was chucked at his head with enough force to cause him to fall back against the floor. “Ow!”
The four of them continued to hang out a bit before Henry found himself too tired to entertain a conversation. It was then that the four of them settled in for the night. Belch rested on the floor on a pallet of blankets closest to the door, while Vic rested on his own pallet between Belch and the bed. Henry's bed was small. It sometimes felt cramped when he was there in bed by himself, so to have Patrick in bed with him made it even more cramped. Henry had to sleep on his side to make it work. He slept on the edge of the bed so that he could have easy access to the bathroom. Patrick rested behind him. Patrick rested close enough to him that Henry could feel his breath against the back of his neck and the warmth of any exposed skin. It was kind of a comfort, or at least it was until Patrick pinned his arm to his side when he started to scratch. He could be a real asshole when he wanted to be.
“Why the hell do you get to be the big spoon?” Henry questioned after a few minutes of silence were shared between the four of them, unable to miss how the arms around made him feel. “Roll over.”
“Nah.. don't feel like it.” Patrick muttered as he buried his face into the other boy's neck, taking notice when the blanket was pulled off of him in retaliation. “Asshole.. Share the blanket!”
“It's my bed!” Henry reasoned as he elbowed Patrick in the chest in order to get him to back off a little, only seeming to relax when he felt a set of nails rake across his back. “Oh.. Oh, that feels nice.”
“Belch, the lovers are arguing again.” Vic teased as he listened in on the conversation above him, unable to miss when the more manic of their friends sat up and glared down at him with a look that made him regret his word choice in an instant. “Patrick, I didn't mean it like that, I swear.”
“Uh huh..” Patrick mused as he backed off once more, unable to miss how Henry continued to squirm in bed next to him, which caused him to relent at last. “Fine— Fine. I'll roll over.”
“Coward.” Belch responded as he turned his head towards Vic, who chose to cower underneath the blankets, taking notice of the noises and movements that came from his friends on the bed as they continued to fight about positions. “Are you two fucking over there or—”
“Shut up!” Both Henry and Patrick yelled out at the same time, struggling with each other for several more seconds before a comfortable position was found. “There.”
In the end Henry fell asleep in Patrick's arms, facing him. Patrick scratched his back in a gentle manner until he fell asleep. It was the kind of domestic shit Belch and Vic would continue to mock them for weeks after the fact, but Henry was too comfortable at the time to care. If Henry's hands wandered underneath that shared blanket, then that was his own business. In the end Patrick was the only one that ended up sick, which could be explained away by how close the two of them were that night, but that did little to deter them from repeating their sleepover at Patrick's house, and if Patrick let Henry crawl into bed with him despite the fact that there was room on the floor, then that was his own business. Vic knew better than to mention it this time.