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Second chances were something that Henry Creel thought always passed him by. He simply wasn’t the type of person that has good luck brought upon them, always unintentionally being met with deceit instead. Before his childhood could even begin, Henry was a target of manipulation, in more ways than one. His gifted mind and extraordinary abilities seemed to be the subject of fascination for monsters, human and eldritch alike. They tormented Henry, isolating him in a literal and metaphorical prison with seemingly no way out. Years go by, and he slowly learns to embrace this dark entity that invades his brain, letting it contort him into something beyond recognition…
And then, just as quickly as it occurred, the curse was broken.
The details were still very fuzzy, but the first thing Henry remembers was his eyes fluttering open and being met with a harsh overhead light and a crowd of hospital orderlies. He nearly panics, believing he’s back in that god forsaken lab, but he simply was awaking from a long-term coma in Hawkins General Hospital. The recovery process was excruciatingly long, especially now that his unique abilities were gone, the same abilities that were present for the majority of his life. Henry was no longer a pawn in a much bigger game. He finally had autonomy and a chance to start a new, but at what cost? He had no home or family, and Hawkins might as well be a completely different town with how much it’s changed over the past 30 years. That’s why it was an act of fate that he met you.
You worked at the Hawkins Library, a steady job that was enough to earn some money and kill some time. Most days were slow, but peaceful nonetheless. During a particularly boring shift stocking shelfs of the latest Stephen King title, you took special notice of a tall, rather awkward looking blonde man. He was hunched over, reading a book about spiders from what you could tell. This wasn’t a huge shock, as you’ve seen this same man in here quite a lot over the past few weeks. His fixation on spiders intrigued you, even if spiders grossed you out. It seemed like every time his tall frame walked through the doors, he bolted towards the back and picked up a textbook about spiders with him. You always left him to his own devices before, but this time, something inside you changed. You felt this spark of empathy in your heart seeing someone clearly so alone and always coming to the same place for comfort.
“You should read this one next, sir”
You say to the blonde with a gentle smile, placing a particularly thick book about the biology of spiders on the table beside him. Your voice is quiet, a soft hush that might have been the closest thing to peace Henry has heard in a long time. Then, he looks up, and your heart throbs and breaks all at once. You never noticed how striking and bright his blue eyes were, but the dark circles underneath them told a different story. He gives you a short nod of acknowledgment and not much else, maybe a mumbled ‘Thank you’ if you listened close enough.
“My name is Y/N. Give me a shout if you need anything. Oh, but not too loud, we’re still in a library.”
You chuckled rather shyly, pointing to the name tag on your uniform for emphasis. You mentally kicked yourself for such a silly quip, especially when this man did not seem like the joking type. You never were the best talking to people you found particularly attractive. Before you could turn away after a beat of dead silence, you heard him reply.
“…Henry. Nice to meet you.”
He whispers back, his voice nearly cracking around his words as if he hasn’t opened his mouth in years. Honestly, that wasn’t far from the truth.
Weeks turned into months and you two are seeing a lot more of each other. Little waves or nods of acknowledgment in the library turn into harmless small talk when you’re busy organizing shelves around his seat. Even in Henry’s weakened state, he always offers to help, to which you always blush and politely decline. The longer you get to know Henry, the more you realize just out of touch he seems with the world around him. He stared at an IBM computer like it was something out of a sci-fi novel, failed to pick up on all the popular slang, and didn’t even know who the president of the United States was. This absolutely shattered your heart and you took it upon yourself to help Henry get accustomed to life in Hawkins, the 1980’s version, that is.
You couldn’t remember who developed feelings first, only that yours and Henry’s bond grew quicker than ever anticipated. During all those trips to the Palace Arcade, Hawk Theater, and Family Video, a beautiful romance was formed through the mutual pure wonder of experiencing life for the first time again. The mundane seemed wonderful, every little discovery making your love grow deeper. Henry found solace and comfort through your patience and open minded view of him. Anyone else would take one look at his restless appearance and standoffish demeanor and write him off as no good, but not you. As for you, you just adored Henry’s wide eyed, albeit apprehensive view of life. He had interests and hobbies, yet seemed to be from a completely different time all together. It was your job to introduce Henry to, well, the concept of fun! You bought him clothes that complimented his style, showed him some of your favorite records, and especially your favorite films.
This meant taking multiple trips to the Family Video to rent tapes for movie nights, an activity you adored simply because of Henry’s utter confusion, and slight distaste of the films out these days. Sometimes it took a while to find something you both liked, but you always came to a unanimous conclusion or compromise. This evening in particular, right before the store closed, you managed to convince Henry to watch Dirty Dancing, a film that just came out a year prior.
“I can’t wait to show you this movie! Trust me, you’ll adore it!”
You squealed with joyful anticipation, holding the tape close to your heart as you practically skipped out of the store with Henry by your side. He couldn’t help the slow smile tugging at his lips at your enthusiasm, shaking his head with amusement.
“It wouldn’t be the first thing I’ve adored tonight.”
He replies in that smooth voice, watching your reaction through the corner of his eye for that inevitable blush that overtakes your features.
You knew Henry suffered from horrible nightmares, so movie nights were a way to soothe them that usually ended in you falling asleep on his shoulder. This type of intimacy was foreign to Henry, cuddling up with his darling in a heap of blankets, the soft glow of the television illuminating the room. It felt strange, this warm fondness in his chest that was painful and blissful all at the same time. He never thought he was capable of such feelings for another person, especially not after his previous opinion of human beings as a whole. It made it difficult to focus on the film, but Henry tries his hardest for your sake. His head was just swarming, heart beating quicker than he ever experienced just by having you so close to his side. Every now and then, you’d glance up at him with those beautiful E/C eyes and ask him if he was enjoying himself, to which Henry always hummed in agreement.
For a while, Henry’s blue eyes just stared mindlessly at the screen, not really absorbing much about the plot or dialogue. All he could focus on was your smaller frame against his chest, the sound of your breathing acting like a soothing cadence. That is, until one little scene, the one where Patrick Swayze’s character accidentally brushes against Jennifer Grey’s underarm, causing her to tense up and giggle in his arms. Suddenly, Henry’s interest was peaked, literally and physically caught by surprise. You feel this sudden shift in body language, sitting up to gauge his face and noticing the utter confusion written across his sharp facial structures. His brows were furrowed, lips pressed tight as if he was solving a complex math equation.
“Why was she laughing just then?”
Henry asks you suddenly, his low voice taking on a more urgent tone, the same one he adopted when trying to understand the newest fad of the day. You couldn’t help but be shocked, but replied warmly nonetheless. You chuckled softly, gently brushing your fingers across a stubborn strand of Henry’s blonde hair.
“She’s ticklish, honey.”
You replied simply as if it was the most painfully obvious thing in the world. After that, you turned back to the screen for a brief second before Henry draws your attention back with a follow up question.
“Ticklish? Is that a standard procedure among humans these days?”
The new word sounds awkward on Henry’s tongue, as he sounds out the syllables with a mix of uncertainty and intrigue. For a moment, you think he’s joking, but that glance of pure curiosity spoke volumes. Your lips part in utter disbelief and sympathy, eyes softening profusely as your focus is entirely on your boyfriend.
“You…never been tickled before? Not once?”
You question gently, not passing judgement, but simply wanting to know the truth. You watched with a solemn expression as Henry shakes his head once, tilting his head to truly understand why you looked so stunned by this lack of affection in his life. He clears his throat, silently wondering why you looked so appalled.
“I suppose I haven’t. Is that strange, darling?”
You’re quick to reassure him, your hand shooting up to cover his, your fingers interlocking with his larger ones. Any signs of humor of in your voice was gone, replaced by mild concern and empathy.
“No, not at all. Would you like me to explain what it is?”
“Please. If it’s not too much trouble.”
You couldn’t help but smile warmly at Henry’s reply, finding it to be adorably innocent, especially in this warm, intimate setting. You keep your eyes locked on his, pausing for a beat to search for the right words to explain tickling. Your fingers stay intertwined with Henry’s the whole time, as if you were physically guiding him through your explanation.
“Well, tickling is when someone touches a sensitive spot on your body that makes you laugh and squirm. It feels kinda tingly, but is really fun!”
Henry stared at you with a bemused expression, eyebrows raised as if to decipher whatever it was you just described. He just didn’t understand why anyone would willingly subject themselves to something so vulnerable, to give up control and be helpless. It went against everything he was ever taught.
“Continue…” Henry urges gently.
“There’s all sorts of ticklish places, but the most common are the stomach, feet, ribs, and sides. It all depends on the person, I guess.”
You point to each spot on your body as you list them off, gauging Henry’s face for any signs of change or understanding. You were hoping your explanation was good enough for him to grasp. Then, he blinks twice, expression twisting to mild distaste and detachment. However, you don’t miss the way his lips curl up ever so slightly as he scoffs.
“That sounds…ineffective.”
That got a real laugh out of you, making your eyes light up with love for the blonde man beside you. You give his hand a gentle squeeze, your eyebrows raising in a playful challenge. Ineffective or not, you were not going to let Henry go without tickles any longer.
“Is that so? Well, let’s put that to the test…”
You purr, slowly letting go of his hand to rest them on the blankets between them. For a beat, you simply observe the change in Henry’s face at your innocent little remark, taking special note of the way his beautiful blue eyes widen at your sudden spark of determination.
“Would you like me to demonstrate?”
Your question is gentle, wanting to earn Henry’s consent before undergoing something like tickling. You knew how sensitive and oftentimes selective he was about physical touch and other acts of affection, so getting the green light from him was always your first priority. There’s a pause filled only by the ambient noises of the film playing in the background before Henry replies almost submissively, as if he was already mentally picturing this in his mind.
“I suppose I can humor you, darling.”
And with that, your gentle smile grew from ear to ear, practically overjoyed that you had the honor to be the first person to ever give Henry tickles. You made a mental note to be gentle and to not overwhelm him with harsh pokes or scribbles. He was like fine china, made to be handled with care. You set your plan into motion, moving to sit directly across from Henry on your couch and pulling the blankets away.
“Okay, raise your arms for me.”
You instructed gently, a mischievious lilt hidden beneath your words. His eyebrow raises in skepticism before following your orders, slowly and carefully lifting his long arms above his head. He sat across from you ramrod straight, shoulders rolled back and chin held high. The hem of his knit sweater hikes up ever so slightly as he does so, exposing some of his white undershirt. The situation was ridiculous, Henry knew, and yet he found himself indulging your eager instructions without much protest.
“This feels unnecessary.” He muses dryly, “But by all means.”
You roll your eyes affectionately before setting your plan into action, slowly raising your hands to hover above Henry’s defenseless ribs. After giving him a reassuring glance, your fingers begin to gently flutter over his ribcage, your touch as light as butterfly wings. In an instant, you feel Henry tense up as he fights the sudden urge to recoil. He fights tooth and nail to stay still as a statue, a faint blush creeping up his neck despite his best efforts.
“Y/N, W-What are you doing?”
“I’m tickling you, silly!” You chuckle warmly, doubling down and applying a bit more pressure along his ribs. “Do you like it?”
You can hear Henry bite back a gasp, stifling his natural reactions as he attempts to compose himself. His hands clench into fists as he struggles to keep his arms raised, an involuntary huff of air leaving his nose at the sudden change in speed of your fingers.
“It’s…strange.” Henry grunts softly, eyes clenching shut as he’s overcome with the oddest spur to laugh. He’s not sure whether to push you away or hold you closer. Unfortunately, Henry doesn’t have much time to think it over before your fingertips travel quickly up and down his abdomen, starting from the top of his ribs and wiggling all the way down to his sides. It nearly startles him how your nimble digits move in a dance like motion all over his middle, his arms finally clamping against his side as his body clenches like a coiled spring.
“Ngh-Nahahahahaha!”
Your heart nearly burst in your chest as Henry’s laugh finally graced your ears. It was a laugh, a real, unrestrained laugh! You’ve never seen him so childlike, his tall frame shuddering and shaking under your touch as giggles pour from his lips like a fountain. You can’t help but laugh along affectionately, not letting up for even a second if it meant seeing your dear boyfriend smile.
“There you go, honey!” You praise lovingly, “I think somebody is ticklish~”
Henry tries to shoot you an annoyed glare that has no real heat, but his smile is just so bright it fails him completely. He can’t think of a thing to say, his normally sharp mind reduced to nothing as those ticklish sensations shoot through his midsection like live wires. The blonde was almost lightheaded, the unfamiliar and flooding touches almost too much to take, and yet he finds himself actually looking for more.
“I wonder where else you’re sensitive…”
You muse out loud, pretending to contemplate where to tickle next even though you know damn well where your next target is. You keep one hand occupied by Henry’s side while the other moves south to scritch at his lower stomach, just above his navel. This proved to be very effective, as Henry throws his head back, blonde hair going askew as his eyes screw shut against the ticklish onslaught. A strangled noise tears from his throat, hands shooting down to grip your wrists, not to push you away, but to ground himself as another wave of laughter hits him.
“N-Nohohohoho, dahaharling, plehehehease!”
“Please what, Henry?”
You purr in an air of innocent obliviousness, your fingers continuing to spider and skitter over his taught stomach in a quick flutter. One of your fingers dip to draw little circles around Henry’s navel, earning you a particularly whiny chortle.He can hardly form sentences at this point, his usual aloof demeanor replaced by a giggling schoolboy.
“Gohohod dahahamn it, Y/N!” Henry chokes out between a rather charming string of belly laughs, “Stahahahahap it rihihihight now!”
Henry growls, trying to come across as menacing and threatening, but you weren’t buying it. If anything, it only fueled you to continue. You keep up your playfully mischievous touches, fingers darting all around Henry’s midsection like a bunch of restless ants. The longer you tickle, the more you come to adore his involuntary reactions, especially those helpless cackles that rip from his throat when you target an extra ticklish spot. He can hardly do a thing, only able to lay his head on your shoulder, burying his burning face into your shirt. This gives you an idea…
“Ah, ah. Don’t hide that face from me, mister!”
You chide gently, moving your hands up to flutter like a feather down the slope of Henry’s neck and under his chin. You didn’t expect such a sincere, vocal reaction, but that’s exactly what you got. The blonde man barks out another deep cackle, curling up against your body like a hedgehog. He ducks his chin into his chest in a silly attempt at self defense, which someone made him look more adorable.
“Ehehehehenough! M-Mehehehercy!”
Reluctantly, you pull your hands away, allowing Henry to get the well needed reprieve he needed from your tickle attack. You truly wanted to continue, but you knew better, and that meant treating Henry with the utmost care. He could be fragile, and you didn’t want to be the person to push him too far. The room suddenly becomes quieter without Henry’s laughter, only filled with his shaky breaths and grunts against your shoulder as he tries to collect himself. You hold him close, snaking an arm around him as your hand comes to rake through his blonde locks. Just like that, your touch goes back to being tender and reverent, occasionally cradling the side of Henry’s sharp cheek.
“You have such a lovely laugh.” You whisper against the crown of Henry’s hair, pressing a chaste kiss there, “I can’t believe I’m the first person to really hear it.”
“Only for you.”
Henry whispers back, looking back up at you with those wide, striking blue eyes that you fell in love with in the first place. He sits up, fixing the hem of his knit sweater and pressing his lips against your temple. You both knew you missed a good chunk of the movie while you were busy laughing and fooling around, but that was the last thing on both your minds. Just as the night was winding down, you held Henry’s hand again, thumb brushing against his knuckles.
“Thank you for trusting me.” You mumble softly, your words having more meaning than just one. And for once in his entire life, Henry Creel felt warm…
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