Archive of Our Own ^beta

This had not been the best month for Jeremy Heere. He kind of hated October. And November as an extension. Actually, correction, this had not been the best two months for Jeremy Heere.
He had gotten his backpack written on, there was an extra hard test in Algebra that he had totally bombed, and oh yeah, a fucking nano robot had tried to enslave the entire school and possibly humanity as a whole.
It had only been a week since Jeremy had been discharged from the hospital. A week which he had spent indoors, trying not to aggravate the headache leftover from the play. He’d been wearing the same pajamas for a record of three days in a row and was now beginning to notice the less than pleasant smell wafting around his room. It might be time to change.
He was laying on top of the covers of his bed in a futile attempt to fall asleep, but as Christine would say, ‘his brain was like bzzz.’
It was twelve p.m. and he was going to finally have to go to school tomorrow. And see people.
It’s not like he hadn’t had visitors ...well...visitor. Michael had come by at least once a day after school to check if he needed help or pizza. He usually needed both.
But it wasn’t like he was just ready to face the consequences of his actions. Or God forbid Christine herself. He was already mentally drowning in all that missed classwork he had to do. Thankfully, Michael had been dutifully bringing him the homework.
Michael.
Michael who he still hadn’t properly apologized to. Shit.
Why was he still here? What had Jeremy possibly done to deserve him?
He put ‘apologize to Michael’ at the very top of the mental to-do list.

-------------

As suspected, Jeremy had not gotten to sleep for another hour, which wasn’t great, but wasn’t terrible considering how late he had stayed up in the past.
So naturally, he was a little groggy when he stumbled downstairs to make himself some breakfast.
He had searched three shelves of the pantry for something to pop into the toaster, before he noticed his dad was already making breakfast.
His father’s face brightened as he turned to see his son. “Hey kiddo, ready try this whole school thing again?”
Jeremy rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, sure it- Dad are you cooking?”
“Thought I’d try making a scramble,” he replied, peering sheepishly into the frying pan.
Jeremy blinked, looking fazed for a second.
“Right. Well...Good job?”
Mr. Heere dished him a plate and set it onto the counter. Jeremy moved to scoot into his seat and his dad sat down next to him.
“So what’s this I’m hearing about…. Christine, was it?”
Jeremy stopped eating his eggs.
“What about her ...?” he asked carefully.
“Michael said something about you asking her out? Have you done that yet?”
“....No.”
“You know, if you need some help, I happen to know girls like roses.”
“Dad.”
“They also like to be complimented on their outfit.”
“Dad.”
His dad held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Just trying to help.”
Jeremy resumed shoveling his breakfast into his mouth.
The truth was, he didn’t want to ask out Christine. Sure, she was bubbly and nice and would totally bake you muffins if you asked her, but she was a friend. Even more platonically a mom friend. You don’t date your mom.
The squip, while still active, had seen it best that Jeremy’s goal be a relatively popular but attainable girlfriend. At the time, Jeremy had agreed.
HOOONK⸺
A car horn coming from just outside the house pulled him from his thoughts.
“Welp, that’ll be Michael,” he said, sliding from his seat. “Bye Dad, gotta go!”
He pulled on his backpack straps and swung the door open before his dad could answer.
Michael waved to him cheerily from the driver’s seat of his PT cruiser.
“Hey Jere!”
Jeremy’s face pulled up into a grin. “Michael!” He hopped into the passenger seat, transferring his backpack to the floor.
“Sooo…. Ready to go back to the hell hole?” Michael asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
“At least I won’t be staring at the same four walls.”
“True, true,” Michael said, tapping out the rhythm to some unheard song on the dash.
“Hey, so I had the strangest conversation with my dad,” Jeremy said, turning towards him. “He was trying to give me advice about asking out Christine. Don’t suppose you know anything about that?”
“About asking out girls? Sorry, buddy I’m a lost cause.”
“Michael.” He stared at him pointedly.
“Alright, I may have told him about your huge ass crush on Christine, but I swear it was totally on accident.”
“I’m not sure that makes it better.”
Michael hummed in response, pulled back into his thoughts. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers.
“Hey, I don’t know much about girls, but I know I like being called smart. Seems like Christine would appreciate that sort of thing,” he said, with a smile that made Jeremy’s entire brain reboot.
He groaned at the comment, squishing his feelings into a little box.
“Not you too.”
“Jere, mi vida. You’re going to need all the help you can get if you want to ask her out.”
“But Michael, I don’t-”
Michael just gave him a reassuring shoulder pat, assuming Jeremy was only going to start self deprecating. He huffed and folded his arms, sinking into the seat.
But I don’t want to ask her out.
The other truth of the matter was that he had never wanted to ask Christine out. Maybe he had a fleeting crush on her in the eighth grade, but how long had that lasted? A month tops? Of course, within that month, he had told Michael about his new infatuation and he guessed that Michael had just assumed it never went away. .....Probably because Jeremy never bothered to tell him that it did.
You see, Jeremy had begun to develop feelings for someone else.... Someone who he fell harder for every time he stuck his tongue out when they played video games together.
Jeremy would never say he was enamoured with Michael, but that’s sure what it felt like. His heart was like a crumbly cookie every time Michael flashed him a smile, and his nerves where frazzled in any place that Michael touched him. It certainly didn’t help that Michael was a very touchy person.
So maybe he just never told Michael he didn’t have a thing for Christine. If he had a crush, and it wasn’t Michael, then Michael couldn’t possibly come to the conclusion that Jeremy liked him. And this way, whenever Michael did something cute, he could just rant about it to him, pretending it was Christine. Problem solved. No way this could blow up in his face…..Yes….

--------------

It had been a weird first school day back. Rich, Jake, Brooke, Jenna, and Chloe had all tried to give him advice about Christine. None of which he listened to, because he didn’t want to date her, and frankly, he didn’t enjoy the commentary on his acne. He didn’t know what he did to get the popular kids to be friendly to him, but at least now they might not bully him.
This turned out to be true, as he had spent an oddly quiet lunch time with Michael that was suspiciously void of any remarks about his gayness. Michael had launched his grapes at Jeremy’s forehead with a spoon until Jeremy confiscated his lunch, but that was the about the full extent of the drama.
It was now the end of the day and he was at his locker deciding which textbooks he needed to take home in order to catch up on classwork.
That’s when he heard someone clear their throat behind him.
He turned to see Christine peering nervously up at him. She gave him a fluttery little wave.
“Um, hey Jeremy.”
He shut his locker. “Hey, look, I’m really sorry for-”
She cut him off, holding up a hand. “It’s fine, Jeremy. I’ve already forgiven you.” She seemed to know what he was apologizing for.
“It’s actually kind of embarrassing to know, deep down, you just want things to be easy.”
He turned towards her, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Well who wants things to be hard?”
Christine nodded, looking down at her shoes.
“So I came to talk to you ‘cause I heard you were going to ask me out.” Jeremy’s blood suddenly went cold.
“Oh, uh…. You see, it’s not really- not that I don’t like you, I just-what I-”
“Woah, woah! Jeremy. Relax, I just came over to fact check a rumor,” she said, grabbing his arms comfortingly.
He swallowed hard, a shaky laugh stumbling it’s way out of his throat. “Hyeah, Christine I’m not asking you out.”
“Even though you are suuuuper nice and really funny, I mean,” he scrambled to correct himself.
She giggled. “Thanks.”
“No prob, Bob,” Jeremy replied unsteadily, scrunching up half his face like he was inventing some post-modern take on the wink.
They both stared at each other wide eyed before bursting into laughter.
“You know,” Christine started to say through a fit of gleeful snorts. “This would have been pretty awkward if you did ask me out.”
Jeremy gulped in more air. “Why?”
“I don’t really date people!”
Well that’s freakin’ lucky.
“Wow. Good for you, I guess?” Jeremy ventured, unsure what to say to that.
“Thanks.”
They both stood there for a good half a minute with their cheeks puffed up, trying not to laugh. They both weren’t really sure what was so funny anymore.
“Hey, so since you don’t date, wanna go to lunch as a friend-type deal?”
“Only of the friendly kind?” she asked, expression over serious.
“Indeed,” he replied, expression mirroring hers.
They started cracking up again.
“You wanna meet up tomorrow? It’s a Saturday,” Christine suggested after they finally calmed down.
“Sure! I’m staying at Michael’s tonight, so I can ask him to drive me.”
Christine shook her head vigorously. “No, no. I couldn’t ask him to do that!”
“He’ll probably be fine with it. But I can check?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
She gave him a slight nod in return.
He checked the clock in the hall, realizing what time it was.
“See you tomorrow then, I guess.”
She began walking down the hallway. “See you later, alligator!”

-----------------
A few hours later, Jeremy was sitting in Michael’s basement, blasting the heads off of zombies on a box tv. It was Friday, and to his eternal surprise, Michael had invited him over to resume their weekly sleepovers. Why he even wanted Jeremy around him was a mystery in and of itself.
They had just finished a level when Michael began speaking.
“So how’d it go with Christine?” he said, glancing at Jeremy’s despondent expression.
“I saw you guys talking at your locker.”
He snapped out of his revery.
“Hm? Oh, fine. We’re going to lunch on Saturday.”
Michael set his controller down. “Jeremy! That’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me you got a date?” he questioned enthusiastically, launching himself at his friend.
“Well it’s really more of a friend-type deal,” he replied, glancing nervously off to the side where Michael had draped an arm around his shoulders.
“A friend-type deal,” Michael repeated, raising his eyebrows dubiously.
“She’s not all that interested in dating people.”
Michael blinked, processing like an old printer.
After a moment, he moved in to give him a hug, voice becoming more muted and gentle.
“I’m sorry, Jere. If you ever want to talk about it, we could-”
Jeremy flushed bright red. “No, no, Michael, I’m fine,” he said, hiding his face in his friends hoodie. His voice was muffled through the fabric.
“I don’t really want to date Christine.”
Michael appeared to start rebooting again. “...But haven’t you been crushing on her since….forever?”
“....Yeeessss…?” he responded carefully, realizing he had to make this seem like a recent development. He didn’t want Michael getting any clue as to who he’d actually been gushing about for all those years.
“So why don’t you…?”
What could he say? Because I’ve been lying to you for three plus years? Because I’m in love with you?
What he ended up saying was, “Because she’s just so...friend-y.”
How ever skeptical he was, he seemed to be willing to lay off it. “Compelling argument cariño,” Michael said, disentangling himself from Jeremy’s twiggy piano-player limbs. Jeremy was both deeply saddened and relieved by the loss of contact.
He was a bit confused, though.
“What did you just call me?”
Michael froze. “What did I just call you, what?”
“You know, ca- cah-reen… io,” Jeremy said, stumbling over the spanish.
Michael just laughed. “First of all, you said that like a total american, and second of all, wouldn’t you like to know?”
Jeremy slid off his bean bag in protest. “I would like to know. That’s why I’m asking.”
“No diré nada, linda. Si lo diga, descubrirás que me enamore de ti y todo se quiebra,” Michael responded smugly, knowing Jeremy couldn’t understand a word.
Jeremy only glowered back at him.
“What did you say?”
Michael sighed. “I called you a klutz, Jere.” His eyes widened with a sudden realization.
“Hey, has Christine sent you anything about where you’re going?” he asked, swiftly changing the subject.
“For lunch? Not as far as I know.” Jeremy moved to grab his phone from his backpack on the floor. He scrolled through his contacts until he got to the one that Christine had given him that afternoon.
I’mnotheere: hey where are we going for lunch tomorow?

Christine;) : …

Jeremy watched the ellipsis of dots do their dance while Michael peered over his shoulder. She had replied surprisingly fast. He was used to waiting for Michael to reply for hours.

Christine;) : Oh, yeah! I forgot we hadn’t decided! I was thinking maybe the diner in the mall?

I’mnotheere: sure! ill see you there at… 12?

Michael tutted quietly from his position now leaning fully on Jeremy’s back. “Cariño…” he protested, recalling how malls made Jeremy’s stomach go wobbly. “Hush,” he commanded, turning back to the screen for Christine’s response.

Christine;) : Sounds great! See you there!

------------------

The next day at lunch time, Jeremy found himself standing in the food court of the mall. He normally hated malls, with the over stimulating noises coming from the kids play area, and the open design of the space, perfect for being stared at by everyone at once. But however on edge he was at the moment, he was going to meet up with a new friend, which wasn’t so bad.
Michael had dropped him off in the cruiser, making sure to wish him well on his ‘very un-hot not-date’ as he put it, before driving away to the sound of his newest music obsession. Jeremy tried not to dwell on the thought that it had been cute when he made up hand gestures to go with the songs during the ride there.
So that left Jeremy standing awkwardly beside a table he was not planning on sitting at while making his eyes jump over people’s heads in order to avoid eye contact. If Christine did not show up soon to lead his anxious ass to the restaurant, he thought he might explode.
“Hi, Jere bear!”
He spotted Christine walking towards him and he ran over to meet her. Her signature jean jacket could have been a cape, because as far as Jeremy was concerned, she was a freaking superhero.
“Save me,” he pleaded, pulling on her arm.
She jittered a small laugh. “From what?”
“From the open concept of this mall. The vendors. They see everything,” he proclaimed dramatically, only half joking.
(Authors note: I personally find open concept terrifying.) “Oh, Jeremy,” she sighed. “Come on. The diner’s that way.”
They walked into an only semi-crowded restaurant and got settled down at a booth. Jeremy began picking at the shiny red leather of the seats as soon as someone came by with a menu to look at.
A cheerful music filtering out of unseen speakers filled the room.
“So I actually need to talk to you about something,” Jeremy said as soon as the waitress set down his order of fries.
Christine gasped loudly and put a hand to her chest. “Jeremy! I’m surprised! Discord strikes so early into this friendship?!” she said so theatrically that he started laughing.
“No, Christine, it’s fine. I just need some help with something.”
He hesitated for a second. “Unless! I’m not supposed to ask that? Can you ask new friends for help? Christ, I haven’t had a new friend in twelve years….”
“I’ll allow it,” she said, nodding sagely. She propped her chin up with her elbows. “So what can I do you for?”
“Well I kind of have this crush….”
She squinted a curious eye at him.
Then we remembered. “Shit, right. You don’t really have crushes. Sorry, just forget that I-”
“Wait, wait Jeremy. You can still tell me what the problem is!” she suggested cheerily.
“Besides, I think it’s cute when other people have crushes.”
He sucked in a deep breath. It was okay. She was a friend.
“So I have this crush….” he trailed off, stopping all together.
Christine smiled cheerily. “What’s she like?” she prompted, catching his hesitance.
“Well, actually they’re not a….”
Christine’s eyes widened as she propelled herself from her seat.
“No frickin’ way!” She looked like she was going to spontaneously combust. “Jeremiah Heere! Do you have a crush on a boy!?”
“Shh! Christine!” His hands went to cover her mouth. He didn’t want anybody staring.
She sat in the booth almost vibrating with excitement.
“Yes! It’s a boy! Can I continue now?”
She exhaled, stilling herself. “Yes. You may continue.”
“What I was trying to say…. Is that I can’t have him.”
Christine thunked her head on the table. “But why?” she whimpered.
When Jeremy gave her a weird look she said, “Jeremy, I am a theater nerd. You can’t expect me not to be emotionally invested.”
“Well anyways…. I can’t have him because, number one; he’s way out of my league. Number two; I’m terrible in general at flirting. And number three; he’s my best friend,” he said, ticking off fingers as he went.
“Wait. So that would mean….” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “Holy cannoli, you have a crush on Michael.”
“Yup.”
“But what do you need help with?”
“I...flirting. That’s why you can’t really help. You don’t...flirt.”
Christine flapped a hand at him. “Pssh. Jeremy I may not flirt, but that doesn’t mean I don’t read a wide variety of romance novels. I know what’s up,” she replied, tapping her cranium.
“Really?”
“Hit me with it, loverboy. I need some material to work with,” she gestured towards herself.
“Like what?”
“Well, what do you like about him?” she asked, tilting her head. “What about the infamous Michael Mell made our very own Jeremy fall in love with him?”
Jeremy flushed at the words ‘fall in love’ but started up haltingly. “He-he’s got this- Well there’s his smile.”
Christine grinned widely, motioning for him to continue.
"I can't even focus on Apocalypse when he smiles. I just drop the controller.” He paused to stare off into the distance, a small, dopey grin grazing his lips. “I feel like I should compare it to something...maybe a blanket? No, those are his hugs…. Can you tell I'm not a poet yet?”
“So Michael is warm and soft?”
“Uhhh…. You know the feeling when you wake up and realize you can go back to bed? I think Michael is something like that.”
Christine snagged one of Jeremy’s fries and popped it in her mouth, musing. She stroked her chin. “Interesting….”
Jeremy didn’t seem to hear her because he continued rambling on about Michael. “And he’s just really beautiful, you know? His eyes are all...dark? And shiny? And it drives me absolutely crazy when he runs his hands through his hair. Is it weird that I want to run my hands through his hair? While I’m kissing him? Oh my god, Christine I cannot stop thinking about kissing him.”
He hid his face in his fingers hoping the blush hadn’t spread to his ears.
Christine giggled. “You’ve got it bad,” she remarked, trying but failing to sound consoling. Jeremy groaned from where he had flopped over onto the table.
“So what are you gonna do about it?”
“Launch myself into the empty vacuum of space?”
“BOOO,” she called out, cupping her hands around her mouth.
“Well what do you suggest I do?!” he cried, sitting up.
“Do some light flirting? Just to scope out whether he likes you or not.”
“He doesn’t,” Jeremy replied flatly.
“How are you sure?”
“Who in their right mind would want this?” He gestured down at himself, a mild look of disgust tainting his features. Christine tsked like a concerned mother.
“Jeremy, let’s not go there today. You are flawed, yes, but so is everyone else.”
He silently agreed, at least for now and listened while she continued talking.
“Anyhow, the flirting wouldn’t be anything you can’t interpret as just friendly.” Her eyes lit up. “Like, you could just be closer to him? In general? And all those things you were saying about his hair, and his eyes…. Just go ahead and say them!”
Jeremy opened his mouth.
“And before you refuse, flirting will never be comfortable because it’s new.”
Jeremy closed his mouth.
He knew somewhere in there that she was right. He just wasn’t sure he was ready to put his relationship with Michael out on a limb. He had already royally screwed up with the squip, and he couldn’t afford to lose him again….
Christine saw the distress on his face, and although she couldn’t exactly pinpoint which worried thoughts were going through his head, she could see the general idea. She patted his arm comfortingly.
“Don’t stress, Jeremy. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be there to cover for you.”
He gave her a beleaguered smile in return. “Thanks, Chrissy.”

------------------

Wednesday at lunch time left Jeremy’s stomach flipping around like a buoy in a turbulent sea. And the cafeteria food was not helping.
Christine had been telling him to get it over with and flirt with Michael every day since Monday. They were gentle reminders, of course, but to Jeremy’s anxiety ridden mind, it felt like she was pushing him off a cliff.
Besides all this crush business, he was still getting used to the fact that he had more than one friend. It had almost caused him a heart attack when Christine bounced up behind him at lunch to rant about the seven different musicals she had listened to over the weekend. Michael raised an amused eyebrow at him from across the table while Jeremy frantically tried to figure out which showtune Christine was belting at high volumes.
So now here he was. Wednesday. He worked his way through the lunch line, carefully avoiding the dish that looked like teriyaki meatballs but certainly did not smell like teriyaki meatballs. The lunch lady gave him the stink-eye when he grabbed a fork for his cafeteria pizza.
As soon as he sat down, Michael looked both him and his lunch over. Jeremy’s brows were permanently cinched together and he had his eyes fixed on some unknown point in the middle distance. Michael chose to comment on the lunch, knowing to give Jeremy some time before he asked about his mental state. “Dude, why do you always eat it like that?” he asked, as Jeremy cut up his pizza.
Jeremy paused mid pizza-stab. “This coming from the guy who likes gas station sushi,” he retorted.
Michael let himself be proud of the little smile on Jeremy’s face.
“Hey, don’t diss the sushi, man.”
Jeremy watched, parts disgusted and amused as he stuffed three whole rolls in his mouth.
“Well if you like it so much, why don’t you buy it from, like, the grocery store? Or literally anywhere other than a gas station?” he suggested.
“Because the grocery store doesn’t have slushies Jeremy. Get with the times.”
Jeremy raised his hands in mock surrender. “I retract my former statement. You are clearly the culinary superior.”
“Hell yeah, I am hermoso,” Michael agreed.
Jeremy shook with laughter, leaving Michael to peer fondly at him from across the table. His mood quickly dropped when he remembered how Jeremy had looked when he sat down.
Jeremy opened his eyes to find Michael staring at him with a troubled look.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just- Are you alright? You didn’t look so good coming over here.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, I’m serious. How are you?”
Michael reached out to touch his face, which just made him flustered. He tried to pretend like his brain wasn’t coming up with about fifty possible romantic scenarios this could end in.
“I-I’m fine,” he said, moving Michael’s hand onto the table. “Just anxious.”
“About what?”
“Just generally..?”
Michael seemed suspicious of this answer but didn’t push further.
It was around this time that Christine slammed her lunch tray down next to Jeremy, making him shriek loudly.
“Oh! Sorry Jeremy!” she said, immediately moving in for a quick apology hug.
“It’s alright….” he replied weakly, giving her a little hug back. She plopped down into her seat.
“Sooo...How ya doin’?” she said, propping her head up with an elbow.
“Generally anxious,” Michael answered before Jeremy could say anything.
“Oh no! Poor sweetie!” Christine said, giving Michael a sympathetic look.
If he was surprised about being called ‘sweetie’ he didn’t show it. He only shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine. Jeremy’s not doing so hot though.”
Christine turned her wide, concerned eyes onto Jeremy.
“Why are you anxious?”
He cleared his throat. “It’s um….” He nodded his head discreetly at Michael.
She made an ‘oh’ shape with her mouth in recognition. She raised her eyebrows as if to say ‘Well? Get on with it.’
Jeremy shook his head furiously, face turning the same color as Michael’s hoodie.
She only gestured more insistently.
He glowered at her.
‘It’s okay. I’ll be right here,’ she said through a warm smile.
Jeremy sighed deeply.
“Guys, why are you having a conversation with your eyeballs?”
They both turned to Michael, having forgotten he could see them.
“Well I- um- it’s just that-”
“It’s a surprise! For you. That I just gave away….” Christine finished for Jeremy, realizing that whatever he was about to say was going to embarrassingly unbelievable.
“A what?”
“We were going to get you a cake!” she enthused, because surprises made her think of birthdays which made her think of cakes.
“Was there a celebration I was unaware of?”
“....To apologize...for the….” Jeremy tapped the side of his head, referring to the squip.
Christine turned to him, bewildered by his sudden acting ability.
Michael chuckled sheepishly. “Jeremy, you know I don’t need a cake. I’ve already forgiven you,” he said, reaching across the table for Jeremy’s hand. Jeremy complied, reaching out for Michael’s other hand as well.
“And I knew you’d say that. Which is why it was a surprise.”
Christine squinted her eyes at this. Who was this calm imposter and what had they done with her friend?
“Mi alma, you know me too well.”
Jeremy grinned dopily at this, leaning closer to Michael.
“That I do. I’m still sorry for acting like a complete shit head, though.”
“In that case, maybe I want cake after all,” Michael suggested, definitely not backing away from Jeremy. Christine stealthily logged that away in her brain.
“Maybe….” They were both positively half lidded now, and Christine was probably going to explode at some point.
She heard Jeremy say something like, “Do you think I should get you chocolate cake? Because that’s what color your eyes are.” She couldn’t be sure, though, because she was too busy exploding.
Jeremy seemed to realize what he’d just said, because he sank back into his seat like a mushy puddle of frazzled nerves.
Michael just stayed where he was, shoulders slowly coming up to his ears.
“Um, what?”
“It’s just uh...Brown eyes, you know?” Jeremy replied lamely, refusing to meet said brown eyes. Instead, he looked to Christine, mouthing, ‘help me.’
She stood up quickly, pulling Jeremy along with her. “Jeremy and I have some theater stuff to attend to. You mind if we leave you for a bit, Michael?”
He seemed to shake out of it enough to respond. “Uh, yeah….Go-go do your thing!”
Christine gave him a winning smile and pulled a dazed Jeremy out of the cafeteria. They stopped at her locker.
“It’s okay, Jere, you can breathe now.”
He clapped his hands to the side of his face. “What-what did I just do?” he whispered, mildly horrified.
She practically squealed, shaking him back and forth. “You just flirted! With Michael!”
“I did?”
“Oh! I’m so proud of you!” she giggled, jumping up and down.
“And he was okay with it?”
Christine nodded vigorously. “Oh, he was more than okay with it.”
“No. No, I’m sure he was just- He was just trying to comfort me,” Jeremy insisted, tripping over his words.
Christine inhaled deeply. “Jeremy, honey, we’ve got some stuff to work on.”

---------------------

After that first time he had accidentally flirted with Michael at lunch, Jeremy had been testing the waters oh so anxiously at Christine’s prompting. However, the next time that it happened did nothing for Jeremy’s dignity.
He and Michael were in the basement watching a documentary about the maker and inventor of the plastic lawn flamingo while commenting loudly on the guy’s eyeball offending choice in hawaiian shirts.
That was when the narrator of the documentary mentioned that a certain plastic flamingo artist and his wife had dressed alike for over 35 years. Jeremy dwelled upon what it would be like to choose to dress the same as someone for that long. Imagine what type of fights you’d have! Apparently, Michael was thinking about the same thing.
They had to pause it.
Michael turned to Jeremy, laughing so hard he wasn’t making any sound. Jeremy’s heart would have been doing flips because of Michael’s radiant smile, but he was also currently laughing his ass off.
After several minutes of wheezy silence, Michael finally regained enough breath to start talking. He reached out for Jeremy’s arm, still laughing. “Imagine having to wear the same clothes as me for 35 years, Jeremiah.”
Jeremy had finally calmed down enough that Michael’s hand resting on his upper arm was doing weird things to his stomach.
“I, um- I wouldn’t mind wearing your clothes.”
Which is probably why it took him a minute to understand what he’d just implied.
Michael let out a few weak, leftover chuckles but his face was rapidly becoming as red as his hoodie. “Ha, ha… So dear old Jeremiah Heere finally admits he wants to get under my shirt,” he joked awkwardly. “Smooth move, ‘Miah.”
Jeremy practically jumped out of his skin. “No! You see, I meant that- not like your clothes. Like ones similar to yours! You know that-”
“What are you saying, Jerebear? This hot bod not good enough for you?” Michael teased, putting on a fake expression of hurt.
Jeremy, at this point had his face buried in his hands. “Ugh… Please never say that again…”
So you know… that was less Jeremy flirting than it was a misstep that snowballed into a Catastrophe. And yes, he had internally capitalized Catastrophe because catastrophe just wasn’t cutting it.
He’d talked to Christine about it over text shortly afterwards, and all she had sent him was a very unhelpful heart-eyes emoji followed by a laughing-so-hard-it-was-crying emoji.
She consoled him later about it during one of their geography study sessions in the library.
“Maybe he was flirting back with you, Jere,” she submitted hopefully while tracing her fingers over a political map of Europe.
Jeremy pouted at her from over the top of his atlas. “That would be really nice if he was, but he was just messing with me.”
Christine promptly decided that she was going to have to push Jeremy harder in order to make it past his obliviousness. But how to do it?
He’d already been given plenty of opportunities to bust a move while he was alone with Michael. But all of those situations were friendly situations where two best friends were doing best friend stuff. She’d have to create a situation a little more romantic than eating a whole bag of corn chips while you watch a bad remake of CyberRobots II, Attack of Androiditron.
But before she had to put her half baked plan in action, Jeremy found the time to get just a little closer to his goal of marrying Michael, getting an apartment with a lot of potted plants and owning at least seventeen dog children together. She didn’t know how she knew about his exact fantasy, but what she did know was that his pining had only gotten worse.
Christine, Jeremy and Michael were out seeing a movie when Jeremy really brought his A game;
Christine plunged her fingers into the large tub of popcorn she had bought for all of them. They had been trying to include her more into their fun times because she hung out with Jeremy and had also immediately made friends with Michael upon the moment she shook his hand. What could he say? She had a strong grip and an enthusiasm for listening to Michael’s long rants about anything from the culinary arts to the tragic origins of -insert any superhero here-.
She leaned over to them, whispering so as not to disturb people. “I’ll be back guys. Nature calls.”
Jeremy nodded faintly in response.
After several minutes, however, his focus on the movie dwindled as he soon realized that he and Michael were alone. Well, as alone as two could be in a movie theater.
But still! We all know what kind of shenanigans happen in the back of movie theaters!
This type of thing was immediately what Jeremy’s mind went to, and he was thankful for the darkness or Michael would have picked up his nervous expression in an instant.
He saw Christine from their first not-date in his mind’s eye assuring him that ‘flirting will never be comfortable because it’s new.’ To his dismay, he admitted Mind Christine was right. Damn it, Mind Christine.
So you know how in films, if the characters are going to hold hands at the movies, their hands inch slowly closer until their pinkies touch? Yeah well, Jeremy just snatched up Michael’s hand out of nowhere like some spastic, grabby monkey.
Michael must have thought he was just anxious or something, because he clasped his fingers around Jeremy’s sweaty ones without a second of hesitation. Meanwhile, Jeremy felt instantly relieved and (now that he was holding his crush’s hand) on cloud freakin’ nine.
Michael leaned towards him, eyes still on the screen. “You can tell this is a high quality movie because of the top notch special effects,” he commented sarcastically.
Jeremy barely heard though, because he was too busy freaking out over how close Michael had brought his hand to his face. Michael glanced at him to find he was not looking at the screen at all.
“Are the jokes not doing it for ya, Jere?”
Jeremy swallowed hard, bunching up the bottom of his cardigan with his free hand. “Nah Michael, I’m just tired,” he reassured shakily, trying his best to sound casual. As another attempt at flirting, he rested his head on Michael’s shoulder.
And although he didn’t know this, Michael was about to spontaneously combust because his crush was cuddling into him. He chose to accept this fact for maybe just a moment and placed his and Jeremy’s hands on his lap.
Christine came back from the bathroom not a minute later to find them in that same state of closeness. She caught Jeremy’s blissed out expression and wiggled her eyebrows at him before sitting down. To her great delight, the two boys hardly let go of each other’s hands for the whole day after that.

-----------------------------

“You should ask him out.”
Jeremy spun around, clutching his algebra textbook. “Christine, no!”
She’d been going on like this all day, even sliding him notes during class. To his embarrassment, she had also been close enough to see that he had scribbled a tiny ‘Jeremy Mell’ on the corner of his notebook.
“Come on! Worst case scenario, he says no and best case scenario, you two fall madly in love and have six ethnically ambiguous jewish-philipino children,” Christine blabbered.
“I think I might be a bit young for that.”
“I meant like in the future, obviously.”
Jeremy sighed heavily, deploring Christine’s boundless enthusiasm.
After a moment, she tilted her whole body towards him, whispering;
“So, are you gonna ask him out?”
“Christine!”
“Please?! You guys would be so cute together!” she pleaded, folding her hands under her chin. When she pulled out the sad, wet puppy eyes, it was all over.
“Damn you and your adorableness. Fine, I’ll do it!”
He grabbed her arm and started walking down the hallway with her. “But let it be on the record that this was your idea.”
She latched onto a locker to bring them to a halt.
“Jeremy, if your really not comfortable asking him out as a romantic thing, you could ask him as a friend for now,” she said, putting her small hands on Jeremy’s shoulders.
Jeremy just looked confused.
She shrugged semi-apologetically. “You know, just ask for some one-on-one time? He won’t even have to know it’s kind of a date.”
He patted her arm.
“Thanks Christine. I’ll think about it.”

---------------------

The very next afternoon, Jeremy showed up at Christine’s locker just before school got out. She glanced him over.
He had tried to dress a little nicer than usual, but not too nice, or else Michael might get an idea of what’s going on. So there he was in a button up the exact same color as his cardigan (he knew because he’d checked) and an actually clean pair of pants.
“Gah! You look so handsome! I’m so proud!” she gushed, fixing the collar of his shirt like a doting mother. “I’m sure he’s gonna be all over you.”
His face reddened. “Well here’s to hoping.”
“No, Heere's to hoping.”
But before Jeremy could say anything about the absolutely atrocious pun she’d just pulled, she slapped him on the back and said, “Now go get your man!”
He scuttled off in the direction of Michael’s locker.
Okay Heere, you can do this. All you have to do is move your mouth to make words. Just make some words. But not awkward ones. Just don’t say awkward ones.
He psyched himself up for it in the two minutes it took to get to Michael’s locker, but it quickly turned into panic.
Oh my god, there he is. Shitshitshit…. No, you can do this!
Michael turned to him with the usual bright smile on his face. Only this time, that smile made Jeremy feel like his heart was going to leap out of his chest and run off screaming into the distance.
“Hey Jere! Feel like busting out that dusty old console I have and playing some two bit games?” he said, clapping a hand on Jeremy’s back when he aproached.
Jeremy coughed gawkily and slipped an arm around Michael’s side.
“Well actually, I was thinking we could go do something?”
Michael face lit up. “Oh, cool man. You wanna bring Christine?”
“Well I was thinking more like… just the two of us… ?” he said, forcing himself to look into Michael’s chocolate cake colored eyes. And, god were they beautiful.
“Oh yeah, for sure!” Michael replied warmly. “You know, I’ve actually been super hungry all day, so can we get food?”
But he was not paying attention, because as soon as Michael had said yes, he suddenly felt like he had a musical number going on in his brain. Maybe that was just because he’d been spending too much time with Christine, though.
“Uh, hey cariño?”
He had to pause his imagination in it’s dancing though, because he realized that Michael was asking a question.
“Oh! Yeah, sure. Food.”
He sucked in a shaky breath. He was unofficially officially going on a date with Michael.

--------------------

Michael stabbed his fork into an over syrupy stack of pancakes, making the syrup ooze onto his plate.
When Christine had first suggested he ask him on a date, Jeremy didn’t know exactly what it would be like, but Michael stuffing large bites of pancake into his mouth in the seat across from him was still a bit of a curveball to be honest.
The boys had chosen to go to one of those 24 hour breakfast restaurants at four in the afternoon, and as Jeremy had only been to one in the small hours of the morning, he could officially say he was having a strange experience.
He watched Michael quizzically from across the booth, trying his best to look like the only reason he was staring at him was the way he was eating and not that he was falling even more in love with him.
Michael suddenly looked up from his food.
“What?” he asked through a full mouth.
A small whirlpool of nerves sprang up in Jeremy’s stomach, but he responded nevertheless. “Oh, nothing. You’re just eating those pancakes like your ravaging a village.”
Michael scoffed. “Rude.” He swallowed his bite so he could talk better.
“I’ll have you know, village ravaging is a lucrative profession.”
Jeremy smiled at him propping up his chin. “Sure.”
“And I see you’re not any better. Ordering curly fries at a breakfast place like a savage,” Michael added, taking a long fry off of Jeremy’s plate and popping it into his mouth.
“Wha- Hey! What was that for?!”
“It’s a fine.”
“For what?”
“Disregarding the laws of breakfast, Jere.” Michael paused for a second. “What do these kind of fries even mean anyway?”
Jeremy just looked at him like he didn’t understand.
Michael gestured at his plate. “You know, you order chili fries when you’re mopey, and wedge fries when you’re nervous, so what do these mean?”
Besides the fact that having a person who could be so in tune with his emotions was making him feel something too strong to describe, he found himself asking the same question.
“.......Happy, I guess?”
Yeah. Happy. He was happy about spending time with his goofy, caring best friend. Nothing suspicious here. Not like the strongest emotion he was feeling at the moment was an overwhelming amount of affection and what he could only label as ‘screaming.’
Michael tilted his head adoringly. “What’cha so happy about?”
“You,” is what he let himself say.
Michael straightened back out. “Oh?”
The screaming in Jeremy’s head was getting louder. “Yeah!” he replied a little too readily. “I mean- I never thought you’d stay this long, I guess…” And that was certainly not a new thought, just new words.
Michael pushed his plate of pancakes to the side, suddenly looking concerned.
“Jeremy, I’m not gonna leave.”
Jeremy glanced off to the side of the table at the little container of sugar packets and jams, sighing. Why’d he have to go and make his player one all upset?
“I know Michael, but that’s because you’re a good person. I don’t deserve to keep you here.” Damnit, damnit, damnitdamnit! Feelings of inadequacy, not now!
Michael sighed. Not exasperated. Not disappointed. Just tired.
He smiled sunny bright, reaching out for Jeremy’s hands and said, “Jeremy, even with all the shit you pulled, I am choosing to be here.”
He leaned in closer, speaking softly. “You know why?”
Jeremy hiccuped and shook his head. “Why?”
“Because you are delightful,” he said. “And because you’re telling me not to and I can't have you thinking you're the boss of me.”
Jeremy snorted loudly and dropped his head on the table, still holding on to Michael’s hands.
Michael rose onto his knees, leaning over the table. “That’s right. How you like them apples, lindo?”
“I don’t even- I don’t even know what you’re saying,” he replied through shakes of laughter.
When they both finally calmed down enough, Michael let go of Jeremy’s hands in favor of opening up his arms.
“I don't know what that just was, but wanna hug it out?”
As soon as he said it, Jeremy slipped into the booth seat next to him and snuggled into his player one’s arms. Michael slid a hand into his hair and Jeremy wished he could just press his lips to Michael’s right then, and there would be no consequences.
They sat there for a while before Michael reluctantly pulled away. “Hey, if you’re finished eating, you wanna break out that old console after all?”
Jeremy smiled, barely biting back the affection in it. They still had their hands on each other’s shoulders and it was sending a warmth bursting out from his chest.
“I’m so gonna kick your ass at Street Fighters.”

------------------------
It was about an hour later when both boys had gotten bored of video games and were simply sitting back against the beanbags and talking. Michael had grabbed his mom’s sewing kit from upstairs and was stitching some new patches onto the sleeves of his hoodie.
“Hey, Jeremy, can I ask you something?” he said quietly.
Jeremy turned to him, not missing his tone. “Yeah, of course man.”
“...How did you get over Christine so fast?”
Jeremy went quiet for a minute, picking at the basement’s soda stained carpet.
‘Because I was always hung up on you’ is what he wanted to say.
“I guess… when I actually started talking to her… I realized I didn’t really know her before and now that I do, I want to be her friend.” Which of course, was all literally true but not contextually true. He really hoped that would be the end of Michael’s questions.
It was not.
“So you realized being her friend was more important?”
“Well, yes….. And no. It’s more like-” he cut himself off, unable to find the right words and unable to concentrate with Michael staring at him all adorably-confused.
“It’s like wanting to date your sister, you know? She feels like my sister and that’d be weird…” Michael’s eyes darted around the room as if he were searching for understanding. Slowly, he began to nod.
“Yeah, I think I get that.”
Jeremy pushed down the urge to exhale loudly in relief. He kind of wanted Michael to figure out he had a crush on him, but he also really, really did not. That’s when he remembered a major hitch in his plan to eventually date Michael. Michael thought he was straight.
“Um. And there’s also another reason…” he added timidly. “I might possibly… have discovered…”
Michael only stared at him patiently, anticipating.
“... That I’m into guys.”
Michael sprung forward, latching on to Jeremy’s shoulders. “Dude, are you coming out right now?! I’m so proud!”
Jeremy winced as he lunged at him, but opened his eyes as soon as he processed what Michael had said. “Wait, really?”
He scoffed. “Yeah, really! You think I wouldn’t be supportive? Now we can talk about hot guys together!”
“Then I guess all we’ll talk about is us,” he replied sarcastically.
Michael squinted his lovely, lovely eyes at him. “Jeremiah Heere, are you calling me hot?”
“Well yeah, but I’m also calling me hot,” he continued to joke, frazzled.
Michael jumped up from his seated position. “Hang on, this calls for ice cream.”
Jeremy, still feeling brave from Michael’s complete and utter acceptance, hoisted himself up after him.
“Michael, wait.”
Michael paused at the foot of the basement staircase.
He heard Jeremy’s stumbling footsteps as he made his way over to him and grabbed his hand. All the sudden he felt the light press of chapped lips against his.
It started out very slow, no motion and so slight that if they wanted to, they could forget it happened. But then Jeremy took a step closer and angled his face, touching a hand to the small of Michael’s back. Michael responded eagerly, bringing his hands up to cup Jeremy’s chin.
They stayed that way until they both ran out of breath, but the pull away was only a second before their lips were back on each other with renewed vigor. Jeremy dove in and out rapidly, a blur of kisses bleeding into one another. Michael’s back hit a wall.
Jeremy was blind to anything but MichaelMichaelMichael. He had wanted to do this for so long and his lips were so much softer than he’d imagined. He smiled into the kisses. He licked at the seam of those lips and slipped his tongue into Michael’s mouth. He tasted like expired soda and maple syrup, which was kind of gross, but it was something he’d be tasting in his dreams from now on.
They pressed closer together and Jeremy went back to peppering Michael’s face with little kisses. His cheek, his nose, his chin, the corners of his mouth, god he loved this boy. He extended the kisses down to Michael’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone and back up again to his lips. Michael hummed contentedly.
They pulled away, breathing hard. That’s when Jeremy realized what he’d done. He ducked out of Michael’s arms, backing towards the staircase.
“I’m sorry. I should go, I’m just- I’m sorry.”
Michael was too stunned to stop him.

-------------------

That night at eleven o’ clock, Jeremy lay in bed going through the same cycle he had been going through for the past hour, which went something like; fantasize about kissing Michael, feel regret, try to ignore it, fantasize about kissing Michael ...etc.
He finally decided to do something about it a few minutes later. He flopped over like a sad flapjack, grabbed his phone from the nightstand, and opened up Christine’s contact information.

I’mnotheere: chrissssy

Christine;) : What’s up Jeremy??

I’mnotheere: oh shit I didnt actually expect you to pick up

I’mnotheere: sorry

Christine;) : It’s okay. Is everything alright?

I’mnotheere: well i kinda cant get to sleep

I’mnotheere: because I may have kissed michaek

I’mnotheere: *michael

Christine;) : XD :D !!!!!!!!!!!!

Christine;) : JEREMY, THAT’S GREAT!!! Also, tell me exactly what happened and how.

I’mnotheere: but that’s the thing! i made out with him and that was great but I kinda didnt ask and now he hates me

Christine;) : I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, Jeremy. Michael could pretty much never hate you.

I’mnotheere: even though I deserve it…

Christine;) : Aww, sweetie don’t say that! Look, I’ll bring you cookies tomorrow and maybe we can see about talking to Michael??

I’mnotheere: ….

I’mnotheere: ...fine. night chrissy :)

Christine;) : Night! :) <3

------------------

The next morning, Jeremy rolled out of bed like an isolated natural disaster. He stumbled into the bathroom to take a look at his appearance, and it was almost cathartic to view the disheveled state of his hair, and how his eyes felt indefinitely propped open like a front door in the seventies. He kept checking to see if the bags under his eyes were just shadows or not, and every time; yup, those are shadows, alright.
After several minutes of staring and poking, he shuffled into the kitchen.
His dad paused midway into a bite of cereal upon seeing him.
“Woah! Kiddo, did you get any sleep last night?”
He just blinked unerringly and moved to the pantry to fix himself breakfast.
Mr. Heere, upon recognizing there was no response forth-coming, slowly began to lift the spoon into his mouth.
Jeremy thought maybe that was unfair. That maybe he should tell his father what was going on. He just wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell.
After a moment, he began to speak. “Dad, have you ever done something really stupid?”
Mr. Heere set his spoon down. “What kind of stupid are we talking…?” He paused here. “Like, illegally stupid…?”
Jeremy whipped around. “Dad, no! I haven’t, I don’t know, stolen something or anything like that!”
His dad pushed his chair out from the counter. “Okay! Just checking!” he assured, getting up to wash out his bowl. “So if you aren’t a felon, what exactly did you do?” he added over the running water in the sink.
Jeremy tensed, grip tightening around the full bag of bread in his hand. He turned to face his dad. “...I may have messed up a twelve year friendship…”
Mr. Heere turned off the faucet very slowly, looking perplexed. “...Why? What’d you do to Michael?”
“I uh…” he started, winding down in volume as the sentence went, like a juttering old engine. His face was growing quickly red.
His dad set down the dripping bowl in the sink. “Sorry kiddo, you’re going to have to repeat that.”
Jeremy cleared his throat. “I kissed him.” He began laughing uncomfortably. “Surprise?”
Mr. Heere fell silent, glancing around the room like he was in a spot-the-difference game. He didn’t look mad or awkward, however so Jeremy let himself breathe. After a last glance at the fridge, he shook his head and said, “No, it’s not a surprise. I always suspected you had a thing for Michael.”
Jeremy gawked. “You knew?”
“Eh… ‘know’ is the wrong word, but yeah. I knew.”
“Waitwaitwait,” he sputtered. “How did you know? Was I that obvious?”
Mr. Heere chuckled. “For a while there, I thought you kids were dating. You know you many times I walked into your room and you two were cuddling?”
Jeremy thwacked the bag of bread onto the counter. “Dad those are best friend things.”
His dad just shrugged. “Yeah, but I was right.”
“Yeah, but anyways, Michael hates me now,” he sulked, popping a few slices of bread into the toaster.
His dad sighed, unsure how to handle a sulking teenager. “C’mon kiddo, I’ll drive you to school.”

-----------------------

Jeremy showed up to school looking like hell. He was almost expecting Heather Duke to pop out from behind a locker and tell him so, but that might be because he was so tired he felt like he could hallucinate.
It was, however, Christine and not Heather Duke that was the one to comment on his haphazard appearance.
She found him just before first period as he was depositing his textbooks for the day in his locker. She was holding a container of cookies as promised.
“Jeremy! Did you get any sleep last night? Sleep is very important and you really can’t miss it. Oh! Also, I got you some cookies, but I didn’t have time to bake them, so I just picked up a batch from the store. Do you like chocolate chip?”
Usually her spurts of words were hard to follow, but Jeremy’s brain felt like a limp rubber band, so he definitely didn’t catch anything she’d said and just accepted it when she hoisted a plastic box of a dozen chocolate chip cookies into his arms.
“Thanks, Christine.”
“Your, welcome. Now let’s get you to class.”
They both had the same first period class, so luckily for Jeremy, he had Christine to lead the way to his seat and keep him from bumping into other people’s desks.
As soon as he sat down, his head hit the table.
The kid next to him, a blond, zit-ridden boy whose name he couldn't remember, poked his shoulder with a pencil. "Hey man, are you okay?"
Jeremy lifted his head to bring his hollow eyes level with the kid. "No," he said, and promptly dropped his head back down.
It was rough going the rest of the day, onward. He was pretty sure all the information from his classes just flew over his head like a flimsy paper airplane, because he had retained none of it.
By the time lunch came around, Jeremy had hardly any energy to care if Michael was at the table or not.
Christine was already in her seat and stared at him in a way he could only read as big sisterly concern. "Jeremy, I don't know where Michael is, but I think you can relax for now. Why don't you take a nap?" She touched his hand gently so that he'd pay attention.
He didn't resist, just folded his arms around his head.
Christine did some hard thinking over her lunch. Today was a real doozy.
She felt kind of bad the date ended bad, because she was the one who pushed Jeremy to go for it. But wait, that wasn't fair. It hadn't ended badly! They kissed! She just needed to convince him to talk to Michael and it would all be resolved.
That's when she noticed a scrap of red in the corner of her eye.
There was Michael, standing about thirty feet away from the table. He had his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets nervously. When he saw Christine had noticed him, his eyes widened.
She walked over carefully, trying not to startle Michael or wake Jeremy.
"I figured you weren't sitting with us today. How are you?" she inquired gently.
"I'm fine, I guess. Just confused."
"About…?" she prompted.
"Well it's just, I don't really know what happened, you know?"
She folded her hands neatly and nodded for him to continue.
Michael pursed his lips briefly. "We were… hanging out? Except there was something different about it, and I didn't know what it was until…" He trailed off, going red.
"He kissed you. "
"It's not- Wait! How did you know?" he replied haltingly.
Christine shook her head gravely. "He told me. He's not been doing very well."
They both glanced at Jeremy's nearly comatose form at the table. Michael sighed raspily and she almost asked if he'd gotten enough sleep.
"I just don't understand why he ran out right after, though. Did he realize I'm a loser again, or something?"
Christine’s face fell forlornly. "You and Jeremy both have some serious self esteem issues," she started. "But no! He's been agonizing over it all day because he thinks you didn't want him to kiss you! And he thinks you're beautiful! And amazing! He talks about it, like, all the time!" she practically shouted at him, shaking him back and forth.
"Wait, he thinks I didn't want to kiss him?" Michael reaffirmed, removing Chrsitne’s tiny hands from his arms.
“Yes! Wait… Did you want to kiss him…?” she slowed down, catching the incredulity in Michael’s voice.
“...I did. I was just really taken off guard and he just left…”
Christine patted his arm consolingly. “You guys are like an old love story. ‘Two teens meant to be, driven apart by unfortunate miscommunication,’” she panned, sweeping a hand across the view of a movie poster only she could see.
“Actually, it’s lack of communication,” Michael corrected, looking off in whatever direction Christine was looking.
“Same difference,” she shrugged. “Anyways, you need to go talk to your man!”
“Wait. But he’s asleep,” he countered, barely having to resist Christine’s insistent pushing at him from behind. He saw Jeremy’s back rise and fall evenly. “I don’t want to wake him up.”
Christine stopped pushing for a moment to stop and think.
“Well then you’ll have to talk to him after. I don’t want you flaking out on me, though. Do you promise you won’t?”
Michael clasped her hand in his and shook it.
“I promise.”

----------------------------

Jeremy had woken up from his nap to Christine’s lofty figure resting her hand gently on his shoulder.
“Jerebear, I’m sorry, but it’s time to go to class.”
That’s how he came to sit groggily in the back row of world history, its names, dates and places swimming around in his head but never quite taking purchase.
Under the thick high of residual tiredness, there was a buzzing of dread.
This was one of the afternoon classes he shared with Michael. Michael who he was very much in love with, who had beautiful eyes, who he had written unsent sappy letters to from seventh grade beyond, who he had kissed like a damned idiot.
Jeremy buried his nose in his spiral, trying to focus on the cultural differences between the Aztecs and Incas.
‘The Aztecs had mandatory schooling. The Incas built earthquake resistant buildings. The Aztecs kept records on deer skin, The Incas- don’tlookatMichaeldon’tlookatMichaeldon’t-’
He couldn’t help himself. Michael had his textbook open and appeared to be concentrating on the lesson. But knowing him, he was probably jumping over pixelated platforms in his head or tapping the beat to a Bob Marley song he just couldn’t shake.
He was grinding the eraser of his pencil into the table and his nose was scrunched up charmingly in a way that made Jeremy’s whole body go slack just a bit. It was a shame he'd messed up their entire friendship and would now not be talking to Michael ever again. So is the tragedy that is life.
Somewhere, Christine was equally berating him and praising him for being so dramatic.
Michael’s hair sprung every which direction as if it were its own sentient being. He had his pencil in his mouth and he was chewing on the eraser. Jeremy watched him gnaw on it and vaguely realized he now knew what Michael’s lips felt like.
Michael turned to look at him.
Jeremy nearly screeched as he reglued his eyes to his notebook. But he could feel Michael staring at him, so he stood up with a hot rush of embarrassment and walked out the door.
Michael got out of his seat shortly after him and slipped a quiet word to the teacher about needing to go to the bathroom.
That was where he checked first. If Jeremy really was as torn as Christine said, he would need a place with mirrors to stare into his red eyes and regret his life choices, and that place had always been the bathroom.
Sure enough, that’s where he found him a few minutes later, staring wistfully into his sorry reflection. He saw Michael approach behind him in the glass.
“Why are you here…?”
Michael approached him carefully. “Look, Jeremy, I just wanted to talk.”
“About what? I already know I messed up,” he replied, voice barely audible.
“Jeremy…”
“And Michael? I am so so sorry that I just came on to you without a warning. It was gross and it was-”
“Jeremy,” he pleaded.
“It was creepy and I shouldn’t have done it and I really deserve it if you hate me right now, and-” The emotion in his words picked up.
“Jeremy.”
“And I promise it’ll never happen again and-”
“Jeremy!”
He froze, hanging his head between hunched shoulders. “...What?”
“It’s fine.”
“No. It’s not. I took advantage of you. I treated you poorly again.”
Michael took a few steps towards him, arms opening. “No, it really is-”
Jeremy didn’t seem to hear him, because he just went on. “I already messed things up before and despite the absolute shit I put you through, you still forgave me! I abandoned my favorite person, Michael. And for what?! To be friends with people I didn’t even like? And now- now I just go and ruin things again by kissing you when you don’t like me and even if you forgive me for that, you shouldn’t!”
He stopped for a long moment, out of breath.
“....Why did I let Christine convince me I was good enough for you?”
Michael sucked in a breath along with Jeremy. Did he really think he wasn't good enough?
“....Can I just say something? Without you interrupting me?”
Jeremy nodded reluctantly for him to continue.
“You weren’t taking advantage of me, or pushing yourself on me, or any other horrible thing you’re thinking you did.” He paused here, smiling at Jeremy like he was the best flavor of ice cream. “And I don't know who told you I didn't like you, but whoever it was, was a terrible fact checker.”
Jeremy’s twiggy fingers started drumming the side of his leg.
“....What does that mean?”
“It means I like you, dumb-ass. And I want to make out with you as much as possible.”
When Jeremy looked at Michael, he was grinning from ear to ear.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked shyly.
Michael’s response was immediate; “What'd I just say?”
Jeremy leaned upwards to bring his lips to Michael’s. His fingers found the nape of his neck and he ran his hands through that soft hair he’d been dreaming about for far too long.
Michael pulled him close, reeling him in by the waist so that Jeremy’s heart was beating just under his. Jeremy sighed contentedly.
He thought maybe he could do this forever if Michael would let him. But that was the joy in it. Michael let him. Michael wanted to kiss him again. The thought made him curve up into the embrace even more.
After a while, they both had to pull away for lack of air. They held each other close with winded smiles.
“Wait, so you like me?” Jeremy asked breathlessly.
Michael rolled his eyes. “No, I just made out with my best bro in a totally platonic way- Of course I like you!” He rambled, interrupting himself.
Jeremy smiled up at him and pecked his cheek. “Good, just checking.”
“Dork.”
He raised an amused eyebrow. “Yeah, but you like this dork, so who’s the dork now?”
“I’m more of an idiot, actually,” Michael corrected.
“You can say that again.”
“Now who was it who avoided his best friend all day because he was brooding, again?” Michael teased, feigning ignorance. “I just can’t place my finger on who that idiot was.”
Jeremy unsuccessfully tried to flatten out his grin. “....Shut up.”
“Make me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. He pressed quick, sticky kisses to Michael’s lips, traveling around to his nose, brow, jaw and chin. He stopped for a moment, burying his face in Michael’s hoodie.
Michael took the opportunity to kiss around the back of his neck, and he was thankful he was hiding the red rapidly taking over the tips of his ears and nose.
He twisted his fingers into Michael’s hair flusteredly.
Michael chuckled noticing the heat in Jeremy’s face. “Dude, are you blushing?”
A tighter pull on his curls.
“...No?”
Another kiss to the back of Jeremy’s neck. “Querido, so am I.”
Jeremy removed himself a few centimeters to stare up at Michael. Then promptly began attacking his jaw with kisses.
Michael squirmed, laughing hysterically. “Jere! Stop it! It-” he interrupted himself with another spurt of laughter. “It tickles!”
Jeremy smiled before giving him a big, wet raspberry on his neck.
Michael pushed him away, eyes mirthful. “You asshole.”
A kiss on the cheek. “Yup, that’s me.”
They leaned in again, and this time it was slower and longer, and Jeremy was perfectly content to stay there forever, until Michael pulled away abruptly.
“Holy shit, we have to get back to class.”

-----------------

It was an eventful day after that. Jeremy had told every person he knew that he had kissed Michael. That really was only Christine and his dad, but who’s counting?
Christine had responded the way he expected; with generous and high volume enthusiasm. She’d spent ten straight minutes after that going on-and-on about the trials and successes of romance and how today would be marked on the calendar as the greatest romantic success in history and how she was so proud and blah, blah, blah stuff that required interpretive dance to explain.
His dad’s reaction was more unpredictable because up until recently, his dad’s knowledge of his life had been limited to the few times he’d observed Jeremy during the normal routine. Mr. Heere had originally thought they were dating well before this whole fiasco though, so Jeremy could breathe easy on that one.
As for Michael, he just kept informing Michael that he’d kissed him as if he didn’t quite believe it.
“But Michael, I kissed you,” Jeremy stressed for the nth time.
Michael just leaned over and pecked him on the lips again. “You sure did, bud.”
“How the hell did I land you?”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Just pay attention to the show, amado.”
They sat wrapped up in the Mell’s softest blanket watching an episode of Bill Nye The Science Guy and feeling nostalgic. Jeremy shook his head.
“What do you keep calling me?”
Michael paused the show, looking pensive. “...Mostly pet names,” he admitted after a while.
Jeremy turned to face him. “Like what?”
“Oh, you know, my love, my darling, beautiful. Classic stuff.”
He blushed. “Wow, okay.”
“But hey! It’s not like I’m not also secretly insulting you in spanish too!” Michael reminded playfully, flicking his ear. “Calaca.”
Jeremy squinted suspiciously up at him. “Was that a compliment or an insult?”
“What does it sound like?”
Jeremy just growled in frustration, stuffing more of the blankets into Michael’s smug face. So you could say things were going pretty well.