Chapter Text
Michael sat on the edge of the bathtub with his feet inside it. People had already dumped their things here - crushed beer cans, empty bottles, discarded bits of costume.
Michael bitterly kicked aside a bottle of Smirnoff's. He was discarded. Suddenly he felt a seething hatred for the empty bottle which had nothing to do with the bottle itself. Now you know how it feels. He kicked it again, harder. The neck smashed. To be kicked around. Thrown away when you're not needed anymore.
He stopped suddenly, letting the bottle roll away. He could have sworn he'd heard a knock at the door. It couldn't be.
Silence. Then it came louder, almost desperate. His palms began to sweat - there was no way he was ready to face anyone yet. If he never saw anyone from this party again, he would live a very happy life indeed.
A muffled voice sounded from the other side. "Michael! Please. Open up."
Jeremy?
Except Michael didn't say his name. It kind of felt like his throat had closed up, which limited his speech a bit. But Jeremy was the only word in his head, back and forth, nonstop. Michael leaned against the door, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. His whole face stung - since when had crying hurt so much?
"I know you're in there, Michael. Please." The voice sounded closer now, painfully familiar. That same voice had teased him for losing in Mariokart only a couple of weeks before.
Michael took deep breaths. He would not cry about stupid Mariokart.
He wasn't sure what made him do it, but in a second he felt his hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly. Michael didn't know why he was so surprised to see Jeremy standing there - he guessed he'd have walked off by now.
But he hadn't. He'd stayed.
And now he took two purposeful strides towards Michael, took his face in his hands, and kissed him fiercely. Jeremy's lips were warm; Michael could smell his salty tears, and realised that he'd been crying too. Somehow that made it all better.
"I love you," Jeremy kept on saying between kisses. "I'm so sorry." And Michael kissed back with years of wanting, years of needing, years of thinking that nothing would change.
Everything was in detail - the edges weren't blurred anymore. Michael could feel everything in stark reality: Jeremy's body pressed against his, his hand on the small on his back, the tickle of his hair falling on his face. It was a heartbroken kiss, it was the beginning, it was the end. Michael didn't even know what it was.
Jeremy pulled away sharply, a look of pain flashing across his face. "I can't..."
"I know," breathed Michael. "It's the SQUIP."
He nodded.
Michael reached out and brushed his fingers against Jeremy's cheek. His touch was feather-light, as if he were skimming water. "We'll find a way. We always do."
Jeremy smiled weakly. "Remember that level of Dungeons & Dragons we never thought we'd beat?"
"Yeah. We beat it, didn't we?" In a burst of bravery, Michael tilted his chin down to kiss his forehead.
"I didn't mean what I said, Michael." Jeremy looked up at him, his eyes bright. "You're so much. You're everything. It's always been you. I was just dumb to-" He broke off, raising a shaking hand to his throat.
Jeremy was going through this. For him. Somehow that made it all better too.
They were going to get through this. And maybe, on the other side, they could love each other.