IT characters x reader

Over My Head poly //gang sleepover

"What the fuck," you whispered angrily at the hooligans currently crawling through your window. It was about 11 P.M., you were tired, and now you had guests. Great. At least it was the weekend.

"What? You not happy to see me?" Henry dared, though you knew better than to indulge in his threats by now.

You had been his friend since childhood, just about the only person who consciously chose to look past his tough-guy façade and get to know the person underneath. He was annoyed by your friendship at first, but over the years learned to appreciate you and even consider you a friend.

"A little bit of warning would've been appreciated... but I guess I know better than to expect that of you by now, huh?" you teased, relaxing back against your pillows. Henry sat down on your bed right next to you. For the last few years, he had tended to stay very physically close to you. Ever since junior high he'd had this habit, and it was assumed that it was his own closed-off way of maintaining your friendship. You knew he was protective of the few things he could call his own; maybe that applied to his friends, as well.

Or you, at least. But he had really been protective of you since elementary school. It was just his personality.

Your T.V. was on low, out of courtesy to your parents, and you had The Lost Boys playing.

"This movie is so gay," Henry commented. You rolled your eyes.

"That's because you're straight," you quipped back. "Everyone in that movie is hot."

"You're hot."

"Hi, Patrick." He was a creep, sure, but he didn't scare you. You had grown used to his quirkiness through years of knowing Henry.

"Shut up, Hockstetter," said Vic. What a sweetheart, you thought to yourself. "Hey, (Y/N). Sorry for the lack of warning." He sat down on your window seat, on the side closest to you.

"Don't sweat it, amigo," you ruffled his bleach-blond hair, "What are friends for?"

"Aw, and here I thought we were more than friends," the dark-haired boy piped up again. He took a seat next to you on your bed, wrapping his arm securely around your shoulder, and putting his forehead to the side of your head. This did not please Henry, on the other side of you, in the slightest.

"Watch it, Pat," Henry spat. Oh, Henry. Always the territorial drama queen. You thought it was just because you'd been best friends since childhood, but the guys knew something you didn't know, which was that Henry felt... well, whatever could be equated to a crush for that boy. It at least explained how protective he felt of you.

Patrick merely snickered.

"Hey Reg!" you greeted the last boy to crawl in through the window. You refused to call him 'Belch', it just sounded ridiculous to you. He gave a cheeky smile in return.

"Hey, (Y/N). It cool if we crash here?"

"I guess, you guys, but my parents wake up at 6, so... I guess either be gone, or hide well."

"Got it. Thanks," Reg whispered.

"Where do your parents think you are right now?" you asked, to no one particular.

"My mom think's I'm at Vic's," Reg told you.

"Mine thinks I'm at Belch's," Vic said in reponse.

"My mom doesn't care where the fuck I go," Patrick snickered, "Long as I'm ot of her hair."

As usual, Henry was the least verbal. You knew all about the rocky, strained relationship he had with his father. Everyone knew they had problems, but no one knew about it like you did. He was your best friend, he confided in you whenever he needed to. Of course, this was much more common when you two were little kids growing up, because once high school came around, he stopped mentioning it as much. But you knew still that there were a lot of unresolved tensions between the two. You knew better than to ask about it, though. If he wanted to tell you about it, he would. And it seemed like tonight he didn't.

"One of these days you're all gonna get your asses caught," you warned. "Don't expect me to cover for you. I'm the victim in this situation."

"No you're not," Patrick said, "You're lucky. Because we pick you to grace with our presence. A god stands before you," he smirked.

"Shut the fuck up," you and Henry both said in unison. You looked at him for a moment, then burst into supressed giggles. The rest of the gang followed suit (even Patrick, though he was the butt of the joke).

An hour later, everyone was asleep, save for Henry. You were tucked under your covers and using his chest as a pillow, your arm subconsciously thrown across his midriff. Reg and Vic were both propped up against the wall, and Patrick was on the other side of you, an arm around your waist. Henry wanted desperately to move it, but chose not to so he wouldn't seem like he cared that much. In the back of his mind, he knew he did care, but he wasn't ready to tell anyone that just yet. The boys all knew without him having to say it, but other than them, that was it.

He looked down at you, and gently brushed some hair out of your face to get a better view of you. His other arm was secure around your shoulders. How were you so oblivious? he wondered. Could you really not see just how much he cared for you? Or were you ignoring it on purpose? Maybe you didn't reciprocate, and ignorance was easier than shutting him down and potentially losing a best friend.

But he wouldn't dwell on that now. You were content to let him hold you while you slept, and you trusted him. You loved him, even, albeit not in the way he preferred. But he wouldn't take your affections for granted.