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The nice thing about having been friends for nearing twelve years is that Jeremy and Michael can just sit in silence and be completely at home. Sure, Michael is talkative, but sometimes even he needs a break, so he’s slapped on his headphones and plugged them into his laptop to watch a documentary, all without leaving the comfort of Jeremy’s bed.
Jeremy, meanwhile, is doing homework for once in his life; he’s taking the opportunity to be responsible and complete the study guide for his final algebra II exam of sophomore year. He groans and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. He hadn’t known until recently that the actual title of the course was Algebra II with Trigonometry, and right now, that trigonometry is kicking his ass. “This shit sucks,” he tries to grumble, but it comes out as a slurred mess: “Thi shi suss.”
Oh, no.
Florence has the same realization at the same time; she jumps up onto Jeremy’s bed and jumps onto his chest so she can lick his nose. She’s purring, but Jeremy knows that it’s not a happy purr; she must be worried, or at least a little stressed.
Jeremy nudges Michael, who looks up from his computer and takes off his headphones. “Jeremy? Oh, shit-”
What’s this cat doing on his chest? He recognizes her as… Florence?- but why’s she licking him? Jeremy chuckles at the sensation of her scratchy tongue on his nose, then lifts her up and kisses her on the forehead. “Hi, kitty kitty.”
Michael peers at him with a bemused expression, and Jeremy peers right back. “Dude, you're scaring me,” Michael says, brow furrowing. “Are you having a seizure or something? You said Florence licks your nose when you're about to have one.”
“I don't even have epilepsy, dude,” Jeremy says. Disregarding Florence for the time being, he shifts into a sitting position and slides off his brown and black flannel, dropping it into a heap by the side of his bed. When he tugs at the hem of his Star Wars t-shirt, though, Michael reaches out to stop his hand.
“Okay, first of all, you totally have epilepsy,” he says. “Secondly, as much as I would love to see you do a striptease, I think maybe you shouldn't do that.” After thinking for a moment, Michael adds, “Wait, I got it. Who's the president?”
“Uh… Bush?” Jeremy cocks his head.
Michael chuckles nervously and continues, “Um, do you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?”
“A boy friend?” Jeremy laughs. “You're my boy friend.” He's pretty much his only friend; what does gender have to do with it? And why does Michael look so flustered?
Michael clears his throat. “Right, um… I think I'm gonna call your dad.”
And then things shift back- sort of. Jeremy blinks once, twice, again; then, he closes his eyes and breathes out. When he opens them again, he looks up at Michael and pauses. “Um… what's with the look?”
“What, you don't remember?” Michael asks. “You had a seizure, dude.”
“Oh. That explains a lot.” No wonder he's got a headache. Jeremy frowns, glancing away again, and scratches at his arm. “How long was it? Was it bad?”
“It was fine, only a couple minutes,” Michael assures him, and rubs his back. “Do you remember… any of it?”
“Um. Not much.” Jeremy presses the heels of his palms to his closed eyes until color sparks behind his eyelids, which only exacerbates his headache. “Should I have?”
“Well, no.” Michael is silent for a few moments before he adds, “Okay, I mean, you did call me your boyfriend.”
That is a lot to deal with when a) he's straight (...maybe?) and b) he just got out of a seizure and wants to sleep for the rest of his life. Opting to ignore the news Michael has given him, he flops back on the bed and groans. “I need to sleep.”
Michael is silent for a moment, just observing Jeremy; it makes him feel like a lab rat, and he’s about to protest, but then Michael nods. “Got it. Look, if there’s anything I can do for you…”
“I’ll be fine, I just forgot to take my meds,” Jeremy mumbles, flipping over so his face is pressed into the pillow. He knows- but doesn’t particularly care- that his voice is muffled to the point of being barely audible when he says, “Actually, can you just get me a glass of water?”
“On it,” Michael says, and all but darts out of the room to the kitchen, taking the steps two at a time.
Jeremy closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them again so he can drag the blanket up from the end of the bed and throw it over himself. There’s a draft from where Michael’s still-open laptop raises it and exposes him to the elements, but frankly, he’s too tired to care. What is it about seizures that takes it out of him? It wasn’t even that bad.
When Michael returns, two minutes later at most but feeling like an eternity, Jeremy rolls over to face him and outstretches his hand without words. “Don’t spill it,” Michael warns as he hands the glass to him, “you’re still a little- ah.”
Throwing tidiness to the wind, Jeremy allows the water to dribble down his chin as he drinks it, then all but slams the empty glass on the nightstand. Again, he finds himself too fatigued to care about manners, although he does wipe his chin and say, “Thanks, man.”
“No problem,” Michael says, shrugging. He sets his laptop aside and gets under the blanket beside Jeremy, and there’s still concern in those brown eyes, even though, all things considered, Jeremy’s doing fine. His brain fog isn’t all that bad- just a chunk of missing memory- and, with his tendency to stay up until 1:00 in the morning even on school nights, being this tired isn’t really new.
“What’s with the look?” Jeremy says for the second time that day. “I’m doing fine. Don’t sweat it.”
“Let me worry about you, okay?” Michael says, and rubs Jeremy’s back in slow circles. “You’d worry about me if I had a seizure, right?” He pauses, glances away. “I mean, I would hope you would.”
Jeremy snorts, rolling his eyes. “Of course I would worry, dweebass. Just… let me sleep, okay?”
“Yeah, alright,” Michael says, and opens his arms. “C’mon.”
“Wh- are you for real?” The gesture gets a laugh out of Jeremy, but it seems that Michael’s dead serious. Quickly, he whips up a pros and cons list in his head. Pro: sleeping in somebody’s arms seems super comfy, and he’s not about to say no to that. Con: it’s also super, super gay, and, while he is kinda questioning his sexuality, it’s sorta too vulnerable for his taste. Pro: nobody’s around to see him being gay. Con: ...okay, he can’t think of any other cons. He scoots over, and Michael immediately wraps him in a bear hug, which squeezes another laugh out of him. “Someone’s enthusiastic.”
“Hey, it’s not every day you get a chance to snuggle with your best bro.” Michael runs a hand through Jeremy’s hair, which is comforting until he fluffs it up into ugly tufts.
“Hey, why,” Jeremy groans, and flattens down his hair. “Good night, Michael.”
“G’night, Jer Bear.”
“Oh, shut up.”