Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Michael?”

“Down here!”

Jeremy blindly ran his hand along the wall until his fingers felt the lightswitch. He had no idea how Michael managed walking down in the dark, but Jeremy wasn’t taking any chances. Flicking the switch up, the staircase below him lit up. Jeremy gently closed the basement door behind him, then began to trudge down the carpeted stairs. As he reached the landing, he instinctively ducked his head to miss the hanging bulb. Jeremy started to step into the basement, but as he lifted his head he found himself frozen in place.

It was dark down here too. The string of lights hung haphazardly around the basement were one of the few sources of light, the white dots reflecting off the shiny surface of movie posters. The neon Pac-Man sign flickered above the television. Jeremy could just make out outlines of board games lined up on shelves and video cases scattered on the floor. Completing the picture was the hunched figure of one Michael Mell sitting in front of the television, his back towards Jeremy. The buzz of the old tube TV competed with the quiet huffs of his best friend. It was all exactly how he remembered it.

Jeremy sighed. Every time he came down here, he was reminded of how much he had missed the warm atmosphere of this room. Turning his attention to the television, Jeremy leaned over the railing. He squinted.

“Mario 64?”

“Aw, man, I know, right?” replied Michael, his eyes not leaving the screen. “I was organizing some shit while I was waiting for you and I found the cartridge stuffed behind the DVD case.” Jeremy could hear the grin in his voice as Chill Bully finally succumbed to its fate at the bottom of the lake. As Mario backflipped into the Power Star, Michael finally turned to face Jeremy. Eyebrow cocked, he rested his arm on the back of the couch. His controller dangled loosely from his hand. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would ya, buddy?”

Jeremy snorted as he hopped off the last step, shrugging off his backpack and dropping it next to Michael’s as he passed. “Dude, that was, what? Like, eight years ago?”

“Yeah, eight years ago when you cockblocked me and Gay Bowser!” Michael’s eyes followed Jeremy as he flopped onto the couch. Jeremy started to fire back a response, but no words came out as he locked eyes with Michael.

His best friend’s face was barely illuminated by the screen, casting his familiar features in a soft glow. Strands of dark, tousled hair stuck to his forehead, the slight sheen highlighting the crinkle in his eyes and the slight furrow of his brows. Michael’s glasses started to slip down his nose, but he stubbornly held his glare. In a different life, Jeremy might have been worried that Michael was actually annoyed. But despite the bite in his voice, there was a twitch in Michael’s frown. He had always been terrible at lying. So Jeremy stared. He couldn’t help it, really. Fortunately for him, though, Jeremy.exe rebooted just in time to notice Michael’s playful demeanor slipping into concern. Jeremy averted his gaze, ignoring the warm prickle on the back of his neck.

“You still have no proof I hid it and you know it,” Jeremy replied, bouncing his foot on the shag carpet. He stole a quick glance at Michael. He looked unimpressed. “Besides, you were playing it way too much.” His fingers fumbled with a button on his cardigan as the words tumbled out. “We were, like, never hanging out.”

Jeremy felt the lead in his lungs lessen as Michael scoffed loudly.

“Okay, one: it wasn’t my fault it’s a one player game and two: you totally hid it!”

“One player game for Player One,” Jeremy grumbled, the ghost of his younger self on his tongue.

“Oh, shut uppp,” Michael whined, pulling apart Jeremy’s crossed arms. Jeremy huffed and pushed Michael off him, who huffed louder and pushed back harder. Jeremy caught himself on the arm of the couch, pulling a face as Michael laughed. He felt a reluctant smile bubble up as Michael’s arm snaked around his shoulders. “Mario’s not shit without Luigi, everyone knows that,” Michael hummed, his breath on Jeremy’s ear. He wondered if Michael felt the shiver too.

“Tell that to Luigi.” His voice wavered.

“Uh, I just did,” Michael said, squeezing Jeremy’s shoulder. The pressure was soon gone and Jeremy felt its absence. “So, what’s it gonna be tonight? Apocalypse?” Michael started to get up to turn off the N64, but Jeremy reached forward and grabbed his sleeve.

“Nah, dude, just-just keep playing. I wanna see you kick Bowser’s ass.”

Michael snorted as he slowly sat back down. “You sure? I still got a little bit 'til the end.”

“Yeah, man. Consider it... closure. A compromise between me and Gay Bowser.”

“Oh, so you totally admit you’re the one who hid it then?”

“I, uh, plead the fifth?”

“Dude, bullshit.”

As Michael settled back in, Jeremy felt himself sink further into the cushions. The couch was old, old as fuck to be exact, and the two of them usually ended up sliding into the middle of it. Neither really minded, though, except for the occasional elbow one had to avoid whenever the other got a little too rowdy with the controller. Personal space was, in general, pretty uncommon between the two of them, which made the past few weeks even more confusing for Jeremy. As the next couple hours passed, he found his attention towards the TV drifting to Michael more and more frequently.

Michael was slightly hunched over, elbows resting on his knees as his fingers lazily mashed buttons. The tip of his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth, a habit set in stone back in elementary school. It was a familiar sight. One that, if Jeremy was completely honest, he had never really taken time to appreciate. But after experiencing life without Michael, he was suddenly picking up on all these little details that had been passing him by. And honestly? It was a little overwhelming at times. After twelve years of thinking you knew absolutely everything about your best friend, acknowledging that their raspy voice during a late night phone call has always made your hands clammy and their smile has always made your stomach hurt is, well, a process. Jeremy picked at the hem of his shirt. Michael had always kept Jeremy grounded. But lately? He felt dizzy. Michael probably didn’t even realize it, either, as he sat there with his tousled hair and cherry-stained lips -- What?

Jeremy blinked hard, his thoughts almost distracting him from the buzzing in his back pocket. Pulling himself up slightly to reach his phone, he settled back down and unlocked it to see a text from Christine.

From Christiiiine: Jeremy! Are you with Michael???

To Christiiiine: Yeah, we’re chillin’|

Jeremy felt something in his chest tighten as he backspaced.

To Christiiiine: Yeah, we’re hanging in his basement. What’s up?

From Christiiiine: Jake wants us all to come over next weekend! Neither one of you were responding to the group chat so I figured I would come straight to the source. =)

Jeremy backed out of the conversation to check the group chat. Sure enough, Jake was rounding up the squad for games and pizza at his place. Jeremy vaguely remembered opening the messages on his way to Michael’s, but for some reason forgot to respond the moment he read “i better see the boyfs there too uwu.” Weird. Opening back up his and Christine’s conversation, Jeremy leaned forward and rested his chin on Michael’s shoulder. He felt a sudden spike of tension under the red hoodie, but it melted away as quickly as it appeared.

“Are you up for Jake’s next weekend?” Jeremy asked. He pointed his phone towards Michael, who glanced at the screen.

“Yeah, man, that sounds cool.” Michael’s face scrunched up as Mario fell off the cliff. “Jake owes me at least four rounds of pool by now."

To Christiiiine: You can count both of us in. :)

From Christiiiine: Yay!!!!

Jeremy turned his phone on silent, then reached over and set it facedown on the coffee table. Michael glanced at him, catching his smile.

“Y’know,” Michael said, “I’m really glad you and Chris are still cool after everything.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Their break up had been on good terms. Christine had taken his hand gently, pulling him into the empty auditorium before the spring auditions. There, under the low lights of the stage, she stumbled over words as she described a feeling Jeremy was all too familiar with: Uncertainty.

“I thought I knew what I wanted,” she had confessed, “but I’ve realized I’m still trying to find myself. And I thought at first that I could do both, be with you and figure things out, but I know now that what I need to figure out is something I have to do on my own. ” He remembered her grabbing his hand, squeezing it tight just like Christine always did. “I’m so glad I found you, Jeremy, I really am. And I want you in my life because you are just the best and I always have so much fun hanging out with you, it’s just --”

“Our roles were miscast,” Jeremy had offered gently, smiling in the small, awkward way he always did.

He remembered Christine’s watery smile as she hugged him tight. He remembered tearing up a bit himself. He had felt the same for a while too, but was too afraid of letting her go… of making everything that had happened be in vain. So he was glad that Christine had been the brave one.

Michael’s voice pulled Jeremy out of his thoughts. “I really didn’t want to have to choose between the two of you. Not to spoil anything, but you definitely wouldn’t have liked the outcome.”

“Very funny,” Jeremy huffed, elbowing Michael’s side. Michael laughed, eyes scrunched up tight and tongue peeking out between his teeth. Jeremy swallowed.

This shit wasn’t fair.

Fifteen minutes later, Bowser finally met his demise.

“So long, Gay Bowser!” Michael yelled, his fist raised to the ceiling. Jeremy rolled his eyes, holding back laughter.

“So. After eight years of waiting, how does it feel?”

“Beating Gay Bowser? Like I’ve become stronger, but, like, in a gay way.” Michael narrowed his eyes as he wiggled his fingers. “I’ve absorbed his gay powers and become, like, a level six homo.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Only level six? I’m pretty sure you passed that level after you started pointing to your patch and going, "I wear this because I am gay" to strangers in the hall.”

Michael shook his head. “Nah, that doesn’t count. I was high as fuck and conveniently forgot about my soul-crushing, debilitating social anxiety.”

“And also the fact that you came out, like, four years earlier?”

“That too.”

Michael and Jeremy shared a warm smile, basking in each other’s company. However, Michael soon pulled out of Jeremy’s gaze and checked the time on his phone. “That didn’t take as long as I thought it would. Finally up for some zombie slaying?”

“You know it.”

Michael grinned. “Sweet.”

Four hours later, both boys were pizza’d out, game’d out, and finally documentary’d out.

“I don’t know why I let you drag me into this, Michael,” Jeremy said, tossing a popcorn kernel at his head. It bounced off Michael’s glasses and onto the floor, joining the dozen or so other kernels that had met the same fate. Michael rolled his eyes.

“I’m telling you, man, this nature shit is dope. You just gotta give it a chance.”

“I think I’ve given nature plenty of chances not to be freaky and weird. Did you see what that thing was doing to its mate?”

“Ha, ha. Well, lucky for you it’s over.” Michael tapped the remote and the TV went black. “You’re free from my evil educational clutches, Heere! Go! Save yourself!” Jeremy’s laughter soon evolved into a yawn.

“It’s… actually getting pretty late. I’m sure my dad wants me home for curfew soon.”

Michael didn’t respond for a moment. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Jeremy sighed. He was tired, sure, but he didn’t really want to leave. One of the downsides of having your dad work on being a better parent, he guessed. Pushing himself off the floor, Jeremy forced himself to slip on his backpack and prepare the treacherous climb up the stairs. As he turned around to say goodbye, he saw Michael standing behind him, keys in one hand and the other rubbing his eye under his glasses. He quickly put two and two together.

“Aw, you don’t have to drive me, Michael.”

“It’s fine, Jer. My mom would probably kill me if she knew I let you walk home this late.”

That was… totally true, actually. Still. “Are you sure?”

Michael yawned. “'Course. I’ll meet you up there in a sec.”

Jeremy slowly made his way up the stairs, through the dark house, and out the front door. Heading to the passenger side of Michael’s car, Jeremy took a moment to look around. The sky was clear that night, the cool wind gently blowing through his hair. The streetlamps glowed up and down the block, casting shadows throughout the neighborhood. Taking in the calmness of the night, Jeremy only caught the last part of Michael’s question.

“--get in?”

Jeremy jumped, his fingers gripping the straps of his backpack tight. He looked around for the cause of the noise, but Michael spoke again.

“Jer?”

Jeremy tilted his head to peer into the open window of the PT Cruiser. Michael was in the driver’s seat, leaning over the passenger’s side with a small frown.

“Yea-yeah?” Jeremy managed to get out. The wind felt cold on his face.

“I said, are you gonna get in?”

“Oh. Oh, right. Yeah.” Jeremy fumbled with the handle, swinging the door open and nearly toppling into the passenger seat. Michael jerked back into his own seat, barely avoiding getting sat on. Jeremy felt his eyes on him as he missed the seat belt buckle the third time, but Michael didn’t say anything. On the fifth try, Jeremy got it. Bracing himself, he made eye contact with Michael. Jeremy felt the prickle on his skin flare up as he saw the tender smile on his face.

“We good?”

Jeremy swallowed and nodded. He had never really cared about embarrassing himself in front of Michael before, but the last few weeks Jeremy couldn't help but feel like he needed to be absolutely not-weird and not-panicky and especially not-splotchy or Michael would immediately regret being friends with him again. God, it even sounded stupid when he thought about it, but he couldn't help it. Why couldn't he just be more ch--

Michael slowly reached forward, his hand hovering over Jeremy’s shoulder. Michael waited patiently until Jeremy closed his eyes and nodded. As Michael’s hand gently squeezed his shoulder, Jeremy felt some of the pressure building in his chest start to disappear. His hand stayed there as Jeremy breathed in and out, his thoughts focusing on the hand tethering him back to the ground.

After a few minutes, his breathing grew steady.

“Good?” Michael asked again, his voice gentle.

“Good,” Jeremy breathed.

“Good.” Michael’s eyes drifted down to where his hand still rested on Jeremy’s shoulder. He pulled his hand back and Jeremy felt that strange absence again. Soon, the old Cruiser rumbled to life. Tugging at a loose string in his cardigan, Jeremy waited for the car to pull out of the driveway, but Michael’s hands were still on the wheel. Before he could ask, Michael spoke up.

“Wanna listen to something?”

“Oh. Sure.” His eyes met Michael’s and he couldn’t help but mirror the small smile on his best friend’s face.

Michael leaned over and started fiddling with the car radio. After skipping a few channels, he finally landed on a station he seemed to approve of. He turned the volume up, just enough for the both of them. As Jeremy let himself be pulled in by the music, Michael pulled out of the driveway.

“Hey,” a voice softly called. “We’re here.”

Jeremy looked up to see that they were already parked in front of his house. It was dark inside except for a single light shining through the first floor curtains. His dad was probably still up, waiting to make sure he got home safe. Jeremy hoped he wasn’t too worried.

“Thanks for the ride,” Jeremy offered, watching as Michael turned the engine off.

“No problem, man,” Michael replied, dimming the headlights. He turned to face Jeremy, his face illuminated by the moonlight overhead. The soft glow made him look almost… angelic. Jeremy smiled to himself. That was a pretty accurate way to describe Michael, huh?

Well, when he wasn't being a little shit.

“Dude, what’s up?” Michael asked, tilting his head. “You got that dopey look on your face again.”

Jeremy almost choked. Again? “I’m just-just real tired, man. It’s been a long day.”

Michael chuckled. “You should probably get some sleep, then.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Jeremy unbuckled his seat belt and reached for the handle. Pausing, he turned to face Michael again. “And, uh. Thanks for, y’know, helping. Earlier.”

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but to Jeremy’s surprise he watched as Michael unbuckled his seat belt, leaned forward, and pulled Jeremy into a hug instead. Suddenly engulfed by the strong smell of coconut shampoo, Jeremy instinctively buried his face into Michael’s hoodie so he wouldn’t feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. The Squip incident was three months ago, and sure, him and Michael had hung out plenty since then, but this was the first time either of them had actually initiated real physical contact since, well… last fall. Which, at least as far as Jeremy was concerned, was the reason his heart was practically beating out of his chest. He had never felt such a strong urge to lock himself inside the car and jump out of it at the same time.

“What are friends for?” Michael finally said, the words barely heard over the radio.

As suddenly as it began, Jeremy felt Michael gently pull away from him. He watched as Michael twisted the bracelets on his wrist, a weird look on his face. When he finally met Jeremy's eyes, Michael laughed. It was breathy and light, the sound making Jeremy's stomach swoop like he had just missed a step on a flight of stairs.

“I, uh, figure you’ve kept your dad waiting long enough,” Michael said, scratching the back of his head. Jeremy looked back at the window. Right.

“Yea-yeah, knowing him he’s probably already declared me missing.” That earned a snort from Michael.

“You better get to it, then.”

Jeremy smiled sheepishly. “‘Night, Michael.”

“So long, Gay Bowser,” Michael grinned.

“Fuck off.”

The instant Jeremy made it into the house, he leaned against the front door and took a deep breath. His hands were shaky and locks of brown hair were plastered to his forehead, but neither compared to the warm rush of adrenaline pooling in his chest. A part of him welcomed it, in some sorta weird way. He was so used to the taste of copper in his mouth, a hand on the curve of his back and a whisper in his ear as ice shot up his spine. Ice branching off into ugly pink circuits and flaring up every time he thought about--

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he muttered to himself, hands still trembling.

“Son?”

Jeremy looked up. His dad stood in the doorway to the living room, his arms loosely crossed across his chest.

“Do you realize what time it is?” His voice was firm, but not unkind.

Jeremy scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, Dad. Michael and me got a little caught up in our plans.”

His dad's face seemed to relax a little at the mention of Michael. "Just make sure you let me know next time you’re running late, private.”

The corner of Jeremy's mouth twitched up. “Thanks.” He ran past him, taking the stairs two at a time.

Dropping his backpack next to the floor of his bed, Jeremy reached into his cardigan pocket to set his phone on its charger for the night… except that his phone definitely wasn’t in there. Jeremy checked his other pocket, turning it inside out. Frowning, he dragged his backpack onto the bed and knelt down, rummaging through the contents. Nope. Jeremy stood back up and patted himself down, groaning as he reached his back pockets.

“Shit,” Jeremy muttered, throwing his cardigan over his computer chair. He swiveled into it, opening his laptop and logging into Facebook. Scrolling through the chat bar, Jeremy found Michael’s name. He was offline, but he was bound to see it before he left for school.

[23:42] Jeremiah Heere: Hey, I think I left my phone at your place. Could you bring it to school tomorrow?

Jeremiah Heere: Thanks, man! :)|

Jeremy’s fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Jeremiah Heere: Thanks, Mikey! :)|

Jeremy dragged his hands down his face.

[23:44] Jeremiah Heere: Thanks, Mikey.

Letting out a deep breath, Jeremy closed the laptop and pushed it away from him. He’d deal with… everything tomorrow. After changing out of his clothes and setting his alarm, Jeremy finally crawled under his covers around midnight. In the dark, he stared up at the ceiling.

He wondered if Michael was still awake. What he might be thinking about as he laid alone in the dark.

If, somehow, in some way, he knew that Jeremy's mind always came right back to Michael.

It was the last thought on his mind as he drifted off to sleep.