Work Text:
THAT’S A GIRL SHIRT
Jeremy’s heart sank. Of course, they should have known that wasn’t allowed-
YOU ACTUALLY WANTED TO WEAR THAT AND WEREN’T MERELY PICKING SOMETHING WITHIN ARMS REACH?
Well, yeah, I um-
YOU EVEN STUTTER IN YOUR THOUGHTS, I REALLY DO HAVE MY WORK CUT OUT FOR ME. WAIT-
Jeremy felt a tingle in their brain.
-NEW INFORMATION AVAILABLE. PAUSE WHILE I UPDATE.
To Jeremy, the world seemed to stop. The people in the store came to a glitching halt, and they felt unable to move. The Squip made a sound that was disconcertingly similar to the Windows XP startup sound.
YOU AREN’T A BOY.
Well, yeah-
STOP BEGINNING YOUR SENTENCES LIKE THAT. IT’S REPETITIVE, BORING, AND STUPID. NOW, HOW MANY PEOPLE KNOW ABOUT THIS?
Just, uh, Michael, and I’ve told my dad to use they/them pronouns for me without saying why, but I think he got the idea.
THAT’S ALL? GOOD, WE DON’T CARE ABOUT THEM. YOU CAN’T TELL ANYONE ELSE. THIS IS EXTREMELY ABNORMAL.
No one?
NO ONE. PEOPLE WILL THINK YOU’RE ATTENTION SEEKING AND WEIRD. YOU HAVE FEMININE CLOTHES AT HOME, YES? WE’LL NEED TO GET RID OF THOSE.
Jeremy felt a sort of… grey emotion fill them. It felt heavy and sad. They guessed that all made sense. Everything about them was terrible, so why not this as well? Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.
DON’T SOUND SO SAD AND UNGRATEFUL, I’M HELPING YOU. UNPAUSE.
The people in the store started moving again, and Jeremy heard someone come up behind them- Ow! You shocked me, what was that for?
THINK OF YOURSELF WITH HE/HIM PRONOUNS.
A hand landed on their -Ow!-his shoulder.
“Jerry?” said Chloe Valentine.
Jeremy lay back on a bean bag in Michael’s basement, very very high. It had been a little under a month since the play, and things were just starting to feel normal again. Snow could be seen falling through the little sliver of window near the ceiling, and Jeremy mentally thanked whomever invented central heating, allowing them - fuck - him - no I don’t have to do that anymore - them - that still feels wrong, I’ll just try not to think about it - to lounge around in a t-shirt while it was below freezing outdoors.
Michael was stretched out on the sofa behind them- him- them- fuck why can’t I just think words in my own brain this is ridiculous why can’t I calm down. Jeremy was getting what they- he- fuck- felt to be disproportionately upset over something that was only happening in his- their- why am I like this- mind.
Michael bolted upright in his position on the sofa. “Jeremy, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Jeremy squeaked.
“No, you’re not,” said Michael, slipping onto the floor in front Jeremy. “You’re almost crying, what’s up?”
“I just,” Jeremy began, trying to think if there were way to describe what was wrong without sounding stupid and and like - if I try and think of myself with a pronoun that’ll just make things worse so I just won’t - were overreacting hysterically. There wasn’t. “Can you just hug me?”
“Sure thing, Jere.” Michael leaned in and wrapped his arms tightly around Jeremy.
“The Squip fucking sucked,” Jeremy whispered.
“Do you need to talk about it?” Michael replied, planting a kiss on Jeremy’s cheek.
Jeremy pulled back, lying flat on the bean bag and staring at the ceiling. “You know… um… what I told you last February?”
“You’re non-binary? Yeah, what about it?” Michael looked nonchalant but concerned for a few seconds, and then his face dropped into one of upset disbelief as a realization hit him. “It didn’t! Please tell me it didn’t tell you what I think it did.”
Jeremy tried be calm. “Apparently letting people know about that wasn’t chill,” awkward half-chuckle, “so yeah. It made me, kinda, hate thinking about myself, I guess? It would shock me every time I thought about myself as anything other than a boy, and it’s still difficult to do that, and-” Jeremy choked on the last word. Trying to be calm failed miserably, and Jeremy was crying. At least that brought on another hug from Michael.
“Is that why you’ve still been dressing differently?” Michael asked. “You’ve looked more like you since the play, but it’s like half your wardrobe just disappeared.”
“Yeah it um,” Jeremy worked hard to not let their - it’s okay I’m allowed to think that - voice crack from the tears, “made me burn a ton of stuff.”
Michael squeezed them even tighter. “I’m so sorry, Jere.”
“It’s okay, I’m just high and overreacting.” Jeremy forced a laugh.
“No, no it’s not,” said Michael tenderly, punctuating the sentence with a kiss. “That’s terrible, and you’re wonderful.”
Jeremy snickered. “Thanks, but I’m not wonderful- ”
Michael cut them off before they could finish.“Yes you are. Completely wonderful, one-hundred percent, sorry I don’t make the rules!”
“I’d be able to calm down and stop crying if I was wonderful,” Jeremy only half-joked.
“It’s okay, you’re allowed to cry. You’re having emotions, it’s what you’re meant to do.”
“I’m getting your glasses wet.”
“And?”
There was a pause, and Jeremy could hear the wind howl outside. They kissed Michael, and everything felt okay.