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It was Thursday afternoon and Michael knew it was coming, he had started testosterone recently and this would hopefully be his last.
He knew that Jeremy was worried about him when he didn’t show at school on Friday. His phone signalled a new message, with the tone he had set especially for Jeremy so he knew when he texted, his heart leaping at the shrill sound as he slid it from his pocket.
‘Message received 12;21 p.m. from Player 2: Hey babe, you alright?’
Michael sighs, partially from exhaustion and partly out of love.
‘Yeah, I’ll call you when school's out.’ he flicks back, his chest aches knowing that it will be a long wait.
Jeremy’s phone displays his boyfriend’s response, he feels his palm start to sweat against the metallic case on his phone, nothing fuels Jeremy’s anxiety like Michael being upset, “Did I do something wrong?” he worries to himself. His thoughts interrupted by the shrill call of the bell signalling the end of lunch, he steps into the flow of students to make his way to class.
-
Michael had been carefully watching the time all afternoon. Relieved when the red numbers on his bedside clock finally ticked over to 3:00p.m, he fishes for his phone in the pocket of his hoodie, extracting it, he unlocks it to find Jeremy’s phone number in his contacts’ favourites.
Before the first ring was even though, Jeremy answers, concern in his voice,
“Are you alright?”
Michael inhales deeply, “Can y-you come over? I uh- the… thing happened,”he replies shakily.
Jeremy is silent for a moment, the after school rush audible in the background, “Oh gosh- yeah- I’ll be right there, ok.”
They both kiss the air to say goodbye, a little tradition of theirs, before Michael hangs up.
Jeremy couldn’t help but feel his heart ache for Michael, recalling the thrill he felt for his boyfriend when he received that breathless call following Michael’s endocrinology appointment, “Jeremy! I- I got my T letter!” The weeks following, Jeremy could see him slowly relaxing into his new body and it’s changing landscape. He loved that. Seeing Michael learn to love himself the way that Jeremy always loved him. Both knew it was coming, but Michael was still understandably upset at it’s arrival, despite knowing this would hopefully be its final occurrence.
Rounding the corner into the Mell’s street, Jeremy speed walked the final stretch of the route he had walked thousands of times, then allowing himself break into a sprint, leaping over the back fence with ease and landing in the tiny, barren yard of the Mell residence. Jeremy never thought twice about using the basement door, Michael’s parents were never home anyway, no need to make his presence known to them, and there was no way he was going to make Michael go up and open the front door for him, not in this state.
He knocked softly on the door as he leaned close to it, his curls catching on the peeling paint, not wanting to miss Michael’s reply.
He waits here a beat, before hearing Michael’s muttered “come in”, and pushing the door ajar, a rush of slightly warmer air from hitting his face, not much comfort from the chill outside. It smells faintly of sweat.
He spots the red hoodie from the doorway immediately, descending the wooden stairs, it looks like Michael has been crying. Or smoking. Or both. Jeremy strides across the room to where Michael is propped against the wall on his bed, he seems dazed and upset, not really present.
Dropping his backpack and sliding his shoes off, revealing the pink socks Michael had bought him earlier that week, he slides under the duvet beside Michael, planting a gentle kiss on his warm cheek as he wraps his arm around the dishevelled boy’s quivering shoulders. They sit in tense silence for a moment, listening to each other’s breathing in the the stillness. A moment later, Jeremy is startled by Michael burying his face into the soft fabric of his cardigan, Michael’s tousled hair brushing his chin, messily wiping a tear from under his clouded glasses as he does so.
Jeremy, anxious to break the silence, neither of them having said a word yet. “Hey- it’s alright,” he whispers, burying his face in Michael’s hair. “I love everything about you, and this will be over soon, I promise.” He intertwines the fingers of his free hand with his boyfriend’s.
Michael sniffs, “I’m sorry- I wish I wasn’t- I wish I- if I could just be cis so you-”
“No.” Jeremy interrupts probably a little too aggressively. “No...” he repeats, softer this time. “I love you, you’re the cutest boy in the world to me, okay?” He looks into Michael’s brown eyes as if to burn his words into his boyfriend’s mind, “I mean it”.
Michael takes a deep, controlled breath, desperately trying to block out the self-depreciating thoughts and focus on the softness of Jeremy’s blue cardigan against his forearm.
“Hey,” Jeremy starts, “can I- can I do anything to help?”
“I dunno- you just being here is helping,” Michael offers weakly, the tension on his face waning a little as Jeremy slides his hands over onto Michael’s plush hips. He runs his thumb along the ripple of stretch marks that litter the dark skin of Michael’s stomach and run down his hips and thighs.
“I can do that,” Jeremy laughs, lazily tracing lines across Michael’s stomach, lifting his sweatshirt a little. He loves Michael’s body despite his boyfriend's insecurities- his soft belly, the way his voice cracks, the stretch marks that scatter his tan skin, his hips and thighs, no less masculine to him.
Michael looks down at his boyfriend’s hands pressing into his stomach, a futile but heartfelt attempt to massage the pain away. He tenses for a moment as a pang of dysphoria runs through him, hoping Jeremy doesn't notice. “My hands are cold,” Jeremy teases, running his hands further under his boyfriend’s sweater as Michael leans forward to kiss him. Smiling and leaning into the kiss, Jeremy stops short, his fingertips brushing the hem of Michael’s tank binder. “Oh babe, you’re binding?” he says, his tone gentle, breaking the kiss to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, which are cast downward. Michael squirms at the question. “I don’t think I can take it off right now, Jer,” he murmurs apologetically.
“Do you trust me?” “You’re my boy, Michael, and just that- a boy, no matter what your body looks like.” Michael is silent, and Jeremy can tell he’s trying really hard to be kind to himself, for Jeremy. “Alright?” Jeremy adds with a smile, breaking Michael's thoughts and placing a kiss on his forehead, tousled hair brushing each other's faces.
Michael considered this a moment, “alright,” he sniffed, his voice cracking a little, Jeremy loves that, “I’ll take it off.”
“Only if you promise to cuddle after,” he adds, knitting his brows.
“Deal,” Jeremy replies softly, meeting his boyfriend's warm eyes again.
Michael kicks the duvet off, revealing his weed print boxer briefs, a joke gift from Rich that he actually quite likes, Jeremy rolls his eyes playfully and laughs.
-
“Jeremy…?”
“Jer… I’m s-stuck,” Michael stammers from the bathroom moments later, his voice faltering.
Jeremy follows to the soft light coming through the open door, this was not a rare occurrence and he knew the free-Michael-from-a-binder technique well.
Michael was curled into himself, sitting on the edge of the vanity, clearly emotionally exhausted.
“Don’t look.” Tears welled in Michael’s eyes.
“I won’t.”
Jeremy casts his eyes to the floor, noticing how cool the tiles were, even though his socks. Gently placing his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders and sliding them across the smooth black fabric to find the hem at the back of the binder, which Michael had already pulled up as much as he could muster, Jeremy lifts the fabric. He feels Michael dip his head and shoulders, arms outstretched, wriggling out of the binder as Jeremy coaxes it off.
“Tell me when you’re good.”
“Just let me put my sweatshirt on.”
Michael pulls his discarded sweatshirt over his head, letting the bulk of the familiar fabric cover his insecurities and quiet his mind.
“I’m good,” he alerts.
Jeremy takes the oppourtunity to kiss his boyfriend’s nose, their faces level now as Michael is sitting on the vanity.
Michael laughs, crossing his arms over his chest as he slides from the cabinet, flashing Jeremy a playful smile as he brushes past him to the door.
-
The red numbers glowed brightly through the dark, 3:14 a.m. the clock blinked, but Michael was awake anyway, hungry, he hadn’t eaten much that day with nobody there to care for him.
Gently sliding Jeremy’s hand off of his stomach to remove himself from his embrace, taking a moment to smile at his sleeping boyfriend, he wriggled out of the bed and padded to the counter.
He was almost through making a second sandwich when he heard Jeremy stir, breathing quickening, a gasp as he woke completely. Jeremy had panic attacks in his sleep sometimes.
The sight of Jeremy frantically grabbing at the sheets around him breaks Michael’s heart, but he’s glad that Jeremy trusts him with his anxiety.
“I’m here... I’m here,” he whispered across the room as he quickly shuffled back across the cool concrete, sliding into the bed and hastily placing the plate of sandwiches on the bedside, Jeremy now sitting against the wall.
“It’s cold in here,” Jeremy breathes, grappling for Michael’s torso, still a little sleepy from having just awoken. Finding Michael’s waist, he relaxes a little.
“No insulation like me,” Michael laughs, that laugh that Jeremy loves, sliding his hand over the one that Jeremy has placed on his stomach, his fingers warm against the back of Jeremy's hand .
Wrapping his arm around Jeremy’s slender shoulders, he pulls his boyfriend closer “I love you” he adds, gently kissing a bruise he had left on his boyfriend’s neck a few days prior, the love-bite having almost faded completely.
“Is that monster leaving now?” Michael whispers into Jeremy’s hair, it smells sweet, like he’d washed it that morning.
“Yeah…” Jeremy sighs, feeling his heart rate calm a little, allowing it to fall into rhythm with Michael’s.
“Want a sandwich? Michael offers, “I made two for myself but you can have one if you want.”
“Uh… alright,”
Michael picks up the plate and sets it in his blanket covered lap, both boys taking a sandwich.
They eat in silence, their eyes adjusting to the dark a little.
“I’m so lucky to have you,” Jeremy hums once they’ve finished their snack, dropping his head to rest on Michael’s shoulder. He then slides down, resting his head on his boyfriend’s chest. He can tell Michael isn’t binding (he’s glad he takes breaks from binding though) and shuffles to move his head again, down to Michael’s stomach, not wanting to trigger his dysphoria that he’s already dealt with enough of today. Michael takes a quiet breath, feeling the warmth of Jeremy’s face against him, “It’s ok”, combing his hands through Jeremy’s hair, “thanks for taking care of me, I love you, player two”.
“I love you too,” Jeremy replies softly, feeling sleep filter back into his mind as his eyes close.
Michael wriggles down under the covers next to Jeremy, Jeremy pulling him closer and burying his face into Michael’s shoulder, he smells sweet and warm against the Autumn air. They share a kiss, feeling the tension in each others bodies release, allowing them to both slowly drift to sleep again, knowing that each is there for the other, always.