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They were sitting on beanbag chairs in Michael’s basement, completely focused on the screen in front of them, zombies groaning and blood spurting as the pushed on through the twelfth level of Apocalypse of the Damned.
“Michael, there’s one on your left!”
“Check your right!”
“There’s nothing there!”
“ Oh my God, Jeremy, your right! Look--”
“Oh my--fucking hell, man,” Jeremy groaned as his player was ran over by a zombie hoard, tossing his controller to the ground. “How many times have we played this level? Four?”
“Actually, this is our fifth,” Michael grumbled as the words “Game Over!” flashed mockingly across the screen.
“Ugh. I never thought I’d say this, but turn it off. Please. I can’t deal with my failures anymore.” He threw his arm over his face and slid farther into his chair.
Michael couldn’t resist snickering at the sight of his best friend dramatically stretched out on the floor. “Oh my god, dude, theater has really gotten to you. You’re such a nerd.”
“Dork,”
“Furry,”
Jeremy sputtered indignantly, sitting up and launching himself at Michael, poking at any part of his body he could reach. “I swear to the Lord almighty, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m not a fucking furry ,”
Michael only laughed and pushed at the boy on top of him. “I can’t deal with my failures anymore,” he mocked in a high-pitched imitation of Jeremy’s voice.
“You jerk!” Jeremy’s poking grew harder.
“Hey--Jeremy, you furry--” Michael rolled the two over, gaining the advantage and waging his own assault. Jeremy was wheezing under him, pushing weakly at his arms.
“Ugh, okay, you win,” he relented through snorts, finally breathing when Michael withdrew his hands. With his attention clearer, he could now see that Michael was hovering over him, lips curled in a smirk, head cocked to the side.
“You good, Jere?” Michael asked innocently, gesturing to the faint blush creeping across his face. “You look kinda hot.”
And if that didn’t send all Jeremy’s thoughts spiraling. “U-uh, yeah, I-I’m good. It’s just kind of. . . hot in here, don’t you think?” He coughed and averted his eyes from Michael’s.
“Um, no, you weirdo, it’s fucking freezing down here.” A wicked thought flashed through Michael’s head and he said, “Hey, I can cool you off, if you want,”
Jeremy stuttered for a second, blush deepening and he bit his lip in thought. “U-um, okay, yeah, thanks, dude,”
Michael pulled away from him, grinning lazily at the small sound Jeremy made when he did, and leaned back against his beanbag. He waggled his eyebrows and laughed at the disapproving frown he was gifted. “Come here,”
The other boy climbed into Michael’s lap, digging his chin into his shoulder and Michael let his hands slide under his shirt and crawl up his back. Jeremy shivered and mumbled, “Jesus, you really are cold,”
“Too cold?” Michael asked, moving to remove his hands.
“N-no!” Jeremy responded, a bit too quickly, and bit down on his lip. “It’s good,”
Michael’s fingers traced light patterns on the small of Jeremy’s back as they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. “Are you feeling colder, dude?” He hummed later, starting to feel the other’s skin cool beneath his.
“Yeah. But now I’m cold, and you’re warm.” Jeremy said, voice muffled by the hoodie.
“Are you trying to call me hot, Jere?” There was silence for a second, and Jeremy’s heart thumped faster.
“I-I mean, y-yeah--” Before he could finish, Michael smiled and kissed the side of his neck.
He felt, more than heard, Jeremy’s breath stutter. He pressed another light kiss to the junction where his neck and collarbone met. “Was that okay?”
If Jeremy hadn’t been firmly planted in Michael’s lap, he would’ve swayed. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded and bunched his fists tighter into Michael’s hoodie.
“Can I do it again?” Jeremy smelled like coconut soap. Another nod, and he smiled. Two sloppier kisses on his neck and Jeremy shivered again and mewled and (oh my goodness, Michael really wanted to hear that sound again).
“Jesus Christ,” Jeremy whispered, thoughts racing a mile a minute. (Just a second ago, they were playing video games, and now?)
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how cute I think you are.” Michael murmured to his jaw, sliding one hand from his back into his hair. “Your hair, your freckles, how when you blush the first thing to turn red is the tip of your nose,” At that, he dragged his lips from Jeremy’s jaw and kissed his nose. “Like it’s doing right now, actually.”
“You’re really cute too,” Jeremy breathed, head spinning at this sudden display of overwhelming affection.
Michael beamed, and he was the sun, the moon and the stars. “Am I now?” (Oh, he was really enjoying this. Jeremy’s pink face, his dazed grin, his faintly bruised neck, and Michael wanted this boy forever and ever.)
“ Michael ,” he whined, cupping his cheek.
“Mmm?” And their lips were so close, that all Michael could do was pull the boy closer and sigh happily into his mouth.
When they pulled away, Jeremy’s lips were slick and pink. “Wow,” he started, tugging his mouth into a smile, “that was really gay,”
Michael laughed and rolled them over, so he was hovering over Jeremy like he had been before. “Yeah? Well, so am I,” They lay there for a second in peace, Jeremy idly running his thumb along Michael’s top lip, Michael stroking his fingers through Jeremy’s hair. “Would it be gayer to ask you to be my boyfriend?”
Bright green eyes met his excitedly. “Honest to god?”
Michael pushed down the urge to laugh at the other’s bright expression, choosing instead to kiss him again. “I swear on my grandma’s apple pie.”
“Oh my goodness, you dork--”
Dark eyes flashed excitedly, and Jeremy pressed his hand to the other’s mouth as quick as he could--
“Furry,”
And the cycle continued.