Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There were many times when Jeremy’s brain short circuits. When the doctor asks during the yearly check-up if he has been masturbating. When he runs out of food in the house and there is no money to buy anything so that his dad doesn't starve. When a teacher asks him for the answer to their question and he has to look at Michael to give him the answer only to realize he doesn't know either. When Dad walks out of the bathroom and says, "Hey, son." to Jeremy, who has to remember that's his actual blood-related parent. When he's having a panic attack and Michael says something so absurdly stupid he gets snapped out of said panic attack.

Despite the many situations that temporarily freeze him, none like this ever happened.

***

It happened on a Tuesday afternoon, but started before school that same day. He had spent the night at Michael’s house for the second week in a row. Dad hadn't been answering any of his texts but that was to be expected. The man never had energy for anything, much less enough to reassure his biological son that he was alive. Which was whatever. Jeremy should be used to it. Dad does it all the time.

He worried at his lip as he sat on his beanbag with his phone in hand. The basement was cold today. The outside world was bound to be colder. He thought about asking Michael if he could borrow a hoodie. He considered whether or not his teachers would send him to the principal's office if he brought a blanket. Probably. Maybe if Nanay had a large scarf he could use it for warmth. That would work. Hopefully.

"Still no texts?" Michael asked as he walked into the basement aka his bedroom. He was drying his short hair with a hand towel. Jeremy’s not sure if that's what the small towels are for but he'll let it go. Michael throws the towel into his laundry basket that Ina bought in an attempt to keep her son's and basically her son's room clean.

Jeremy shook his head. "No. He hasn't even read the ones I sent. Do you think I should go check on him?" Michael shuffled around the room, looking for his school supplies. Jeremy stood up and quickly searched for his backpacks, finding his personal one tucked under Michael's bed and his school bag by the door to the stairs. He hasn’t taken much out of them since he started sleeping over here, just sticking to the essentials that he needs. Which isn't much since Ina and Nanay insist on buying the things he needs for him. "What if something happened to him? And since I wasn't there to help, he's might be in danger or- or hurt badly and-"

Michael dropped his notebook and glasses cleaner into his backpack. He walked over to his best friend and carefully grabbed his hands, cupping them with his own. This successfully shut Jeremy up as the warmth radiating from Michael calmed him down. He could smell the lingering weed stench from last night’s “study session” and a faint vanilla smell. Michael no doubt had Flan this morning.

"Bes, he's fine." Michael had no right to have this much power over him. Stupid child neglect making him want to feel the love that his parents never give. Stupid Michael for being able to willingly give him that. Michael probably doesn't even know how much this affects him. "Your dad is probably sleeping or something. He’s okay."

Jeremy stared at their hands. Michael’s probably right. Dad sleeps a lot and it makes sense that he's doing it right now. He sleeps all day, anyway, so Jeremy doesn't have anything to worry about. "Okay," he relents quietly. "You're… probably right." Michael smiles softly and Jeremy’s heart soars. He made that happen. He made someone happy. He made Michael, his best friend forever, happy.

"Damn right I am." Jeremy laughs. "Are you ready to take on high school today?"

"Always."

"Mm. Did you get everything you need for class?" Jeremy nodded. He mentally went over his list but quickly disregarded it for fear of doubting himself. He knows he's ready because he triple-checked everything. And after he freaked out about not having everything the first time, checked another three times. "Did you eat breakfast? Ina and Nanay will freak out if you didn't."

Jeremy waited a beat."Uhh …No." He hasn't been eating breakfast or lunch for the last four days. Michael has been trying to coax him into it but Jeremy’s not used to it yet. He knows he should be with all the food Nanay and Ina feed him but a lot of the time it makes him feel sick. He’s spent too many years skipping meals to go back to having three a day.

"'Miah," Michael said in a scolding tone. "It's not healthy to miss so many meals."

"I know but it's hard to… you know." Michael seemed to want to sigh but for some odd reason he didn't. Fuck, Jeremy hates making his friend worried. He'll make it up to him. He'll… he'll eat today at lunch. Not just drinking a sip of water from Michael’s water bottle but actual food. He'll… he'll eat some of the shitty school food or pick off of Michael’s 7-Eleven snacks. Michael wouldn't mind because he's trying to get better. So he can deserve Michael’s, Nanay's, and Ina's love and affection. So he can prove that he isn't a disappointment. So he can prove he’s worth anything.

Michael's voice brought him back to the present. "I do know and I'm so fucking proud of you for trying." Warmth spread from Jeremy’s chest followed by guilt. He shouldn’t let Michael’s approval affect him this much. It was pathetic how he chased after something that shouldn’t matter. "Love you, Player Two."

"Love you too, Player One," Jeremy mumbled. Michael moved to hold Jeremy’s hand and dragged him along to grab their stuff. Today Jeremy would complete the challenge of eating at lunch. Today he won't be afraid to ask to use the restroom and be forced to hold it in until the bell rings. Today he will answer at least half of the questions on his math test without asking Michael for the answers. Today he fights God in a hand to hand battle and wins.

Chapter Text

Today he lost the battle with God. Turns out that going against what you are used to is hard to do. He ate an apple for lunch, which he threw up between periods in the bathroom an hour later. This caused him to be late for his next class so that was fun. He got stuck on question four of his math test and tried to solve it for ten minutes before giving up and asking Michael for all of the answers because he was sure as hell not going to waste time doing every single problem. He didn't even get to finish the test and has to come in early tomorrow morning to do it. Fucking trigonometry.

By the end of the school day, he was ready to down his entire bottle of prescription anxiety and depression pills. Okay, maybe not that dramatic but he definitely wanted to cry. Preferably in his best friend’s arms with reggae or Phantom of the Opera playing in the background and the lights are off so he doesn't have to see himself in the mirror ugly crying. He looks shitty like that and if anything could make this worse, seeing himself cry would be the worst way. It would be super gross.

Though, the crying session, unfortunately, had to wait. Currently, Jeremy was outside the science classroom- Michael’s last period. He always had to wait because Michael liked helping the teacher clean up after-school, the stupidly nice idiot. Jeremy settled for sitting on the ground with his knees to his chest and his head in his arms while he waited for his friend to be done. It was kind of disgusting because he could see a chewed-up piece of gum sticking on the ground next to him and he knew if he ran a finger down the wall, it would make black stuff appear on his finger. Jeremy was trying his hardest to keep nausea and tears at bay. He can tell you it was not an easy task.

He could hear Michael talking through the thin walls. He focused on that to keep from breaking down in tears and embarrassing himself in front of the teachers who could see him from their classrooms and the rare student from a club wandering the halls. If he gets one more, "Are you okay?" from a random person who wouldn't bother giving him the light of day had anyone else been around, he will scream like the first dumb white girl to be killed in a horror movie.

He snorted at the thought. Jesus. He has been spending way too much time around Michael. He's starting to think about things Michael would say. That's never good because the next thing you know, he's getting stoned in his basement and fangirling about expired soft drinks. Jeremy is fine with only one of those things, thank you very much. Speaking of which…

"So I told him," Michael said, assumingly exiting the classroom with his teacher, "buddy, I don't think you know the difference between deoxyribonucleic acid and ribonucleic acid! And I told him one of them is single and the other one has a pal-friend." He heard Michael’s sneakers squeak against the tiled floor as the teacher and Michael laughed. He felt a pang of jealousy but it passed quickly. He knew Michael would never be able to tell him nerdy science jokes. Plus, he remembered having the conversation that his friend is telling the science teacher about. He had been so fucking confused.

"Thank you for helping me out, Mr. Mell," Michael’s teacher said after they stopped laughing. "Tell your moms I said hello."

"Will do!" Jeremy can hear the smile in his best friend’s voice. The door handle clicked as the teacher locked the door. The footsteps of the teacher decrescendo. He knows because Michael’s footsteps were lighter than the other person's. "Hey, Jerm," Michael said, quieter than when he spoke to the science teacher. "Do you need me to do anything?" Jeremy nodded. He heard Michael slide against the disgustingly dirty wall. Jeremy scooted closer to his best friend and Michael wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "It's one of those days, huh?"

Jeremy nodded. "I hate myself," he choked out. He kept hiding his face in his arms out of guilt. He didn't want to cry at school and if he did, he didn't want to cry around Michael. Michael has seen enough crying from Jeremy to last a lifetime. He didn't want- no, he couldn't let Michael have to care for him even more than he already does.

Which is weird for Jeremy. He wants Michael to care about him and love him but at the same time, he's undeserving of it. He's a burden; he weighs Michael, Ina, and Nanay down and makes them sad, and takes all of their free time away from them. Yeah, a lot of it can be blamed on Mom and Dad but some of it was Jeremy. Everything he feels, everything he does, everything he thinks is all Jeremiah Heere, the biggest fuck-up in the world.

Shit. He’s crying, the one thing he didn’t want to do. Well, the most important one, at least. There are tons of things he doesn't want to do at the moment and he somehow is doing four of them simultaneously. How fucking fun is it when he can't act like a functioning human being?

"I guess I have to love you enough for the both of us then," Michael whispered. His chest was starting to hurt from his silent crying. It always hurt when he was like this. "Come on, bud. Let's get you home." Home . That meant Michael’s house. That meant Ina and Nanay seeing him and worrying about him. That meant guilt and love and everything to him. Home was such a weird concept.

Michael managed to get them both standing and slowly led him out of the school. It was quiet without the students. Kind of peaceful but only because Michael was there with him. They walked without talking, letting their breaths fill the silence. It wasn’t a very long walk to the Mell house and it took them less than ten minutes to get there. By then, Jeremy had calmed down and was wiping the remaining tears in an attempt to lessen the tear streaks on his burning face. His face always turns red when he is upset. At some point, Michael moved from having an arm around his shoulders to holding his hand.

Michael let go of his best friend’s hands and fumbled with his keys, hands shaking ever so slightly. “Do you want to come with me to tell them what happened or do you just want to go down to the basement?” Jeremy chewed his bottom lip. On one hand, Ina and Nanay would want to know how Jeremy feels so they can figure out what to do. On the other hand, all of them would be worried. On both hands, he was a big fucking coward that didn’t want anyone to worry about him.

Damn it. He hates making decisions. “Can you- um, I- I think I wanna…” He feels like puking but he’s not going to. As much as he doesn’t like the feeling in his throat and stomach, he hates the way stomach acid burns against his throat even more. “ Fuck .” Michael blushes, oddly enough. Huh. Yeah, he could have thought out a better way to express his feelings than randomly saying half-baked sentences.

“Okay, I’ll just- uh…” Michael nervously laughs and this time it's Jeremy who blushes. He wrings his hands out in front of him, for lack of a better thing to do. Did he actually make his best friend flustered? It was usually the other way around. He's not used to putting Michael in a state of shock or whatever. “I think the second option is your pick?”

“Yeah.”

Michael unlocks the door. "I'll meet you in the basement. I have to talk to my moms for a quick minute." Jeremy hummed to let Michael know he understood. They take off their shoes and set them on the shoe rack Nanay made a few years ago, right at the beginning of her wood-shop obsession. She hasn't stopped making things since then, now that she has a semi-successful business going. Ina still has to work but as long as they were making enough to live without worrying too much, the Mells were fine with it.

Jeremy walked as fast as he could to the stairs leading down to the basement, ignoring Nanay's comforting, " Anak !" coming from the kitchen. He opened the door as Michael and Nanay started to talk and closed it behind him so he didn't hear. He almost tripped going down the steps but was able to save himself. Everytime freaking time, he trips on that one step. Damn his clumsiness.

The room was still cold, but warmer than this morning. A small amount of light came into the room through the tiny window. He felt like continue today's "I hate my fucking life" session so maybe that's what he will do. You know, cry to get it out of his system so he can get his shit together by the time he needs to go eat dinner with everyone. Yeah, he was definitely going to steal a hoodie and curl up in the blanket on their bed. That was the best way to do it.

Chapter Text

"Anak!" Nanay exclaimed as Michael walked into the kitchen. "You guys are here so late. Did anything happen?" She had a hand on her hip and leaned against the counter. Michael set his backpack down and shuffled close to her. She must have known something was wrong because she put her arms around him. "Do I need to kill anyone, mahal ?"

Michael laughs as he puts his arms around Nanay’s waist. He was almost taller than her now. In a few years, he will be taller than both of his parents. "No. At least, I don’t think you do. It's just- Jeremy said…" Nanay carded her hand through his hair, lightly scratching the top of his head in an attempt to calm down her son. "This morning he was worrying about his dad because Mr. Heere wasn't, you know, talking to him. And after-school, he told me that he…" Shit, why was this so hard to say? "That he hated himself. I don't know what to do, Nanay."

"Oh, Michael," she says. "I'm sorry you two have to suffer through that." Huh? What does she mean by that? He gets Jeremy- the dude was the one suffering from shit -but him? What the hell? Fuck it. He'll think about that later. Right now, he’ll take the chance to vent about Jeremy to his Nanay. Maybe she would know what to do. Nanay always had a solution.

"And Jeremy looks so- so lost sometimes. He's been making progress and shit but he keeps going backward because he keeps having to worry about his dad and his depression instead of focusing on himself. It's like- he's making himself do things because he's a good person. But he doesn't believe that and I don't know how to make him believe that he is."

"That seems to me something you should talk to him about. Or perhaps…" Nanay trailed off.

"What?" he asked. Uh oh. Whenever Nanay got ideas, something big was going to happen. Until it does, no one would know whether or not it was an awesome idea or a shitty idea. As much as he loved Nanay's ideas, they sometimes didn't work out and caused all of them a lot of stress and money. Michael knows he shouldn't worry about that because he's not an adult yet but that's still his concern. If they don't have a lot of money, they can't afford to keep Jeremy with them, and then Jeremy will have to go back to fending for himself and probably have to get a job.

"Maybe we all need a break. Lola Julie wanted to see him last time, right?" Michael hesitated before nodding. A few years ago, she had met Jeremy and they got along well. Fast forward to the last time Jeremy was around extended family, she asked a lot of questions about how Jeremy was doing and how his grades were. She also said that if they needed her to, she would go have a stern talking to with Mr. Heere and quote-unquote, 'slap the everloving shit out of him and make him take care of his goddamn son like the responsible fucking parent he needs to be'. Luckily Jeremy didn't know that because she said it in tagalog. "If we play this right, we might be able to go on another trip."

"Nanay, didn't we have trouble getting money for the last-"

Nanay cut him off. "Bah! I'm sure I can find a way. Just leave it up to your favorite mom… don't tell Camila I said that. She'd kill me if she knew." Nanay laughed. It's refreshing to see someone happy. That doesn't happen much these days with the stress of Nanay's business and Jeremy’s situation. That's been looming over their heads for a while now.

She let go of Michael and he did the same. Since his arms were free, he gestured as he talked. Nanay did the same. "Don't you think we should ask Jer before we accidentally kidnap him? He would need his passport, right? And we would have to talk to our teachers and find a way for us to do work over there so that Jeremy doesn't spend the entire trip worrying about his grades dropping."

“That’s probably a good idea. Why don’t you ask Jeremy right now? So then the two of you can divide and conquer, get all the stuff done." Nanay playfully ruffled his hair, messing up the rare attempt at having neat hair for an entire day. Damn it. It was hard keeping his hair nice for an hour, much less an entire fucking day. Oh well. Maybe in the next life it would be possible. Not.

“I’ll try,” Michael relented, “but I don’t know if he’ll want to. You know how it is when he gets stressed about stuff.”

“And you know I want another vacation!” Nanay laughed. “I’m sure Ina and Jeremy will be fine with getting away from the world for a couple of days. It’s a trip to the Philippines, anak . Anyone in their right mind would take it in a second.” Michael crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, anyone who is not a workaholic would say yes.” Michael stared at her. “Damn it, you know what I mean.”

Michael broke out into a smile. “I do. I'll talk to him and get his consent or whatever. You just talk to Ina and make sure she says yes.” Nanay leaned forward and kissed her son on the top of his head. He didn’t mention that he noticed she had to go on her tippy-toes to do it. Damn, he was getting older. Maybe one day he’ll be taller than Jeremy. On second thought, it’s not possible to be taller than that guy. Jeremy is like a really skinny giant.

Nanay stepped away from Michael with a smile gracing her features. She was so excited about her idea. Michael really hopes Jeremy agrees with it because he hates when his mom's ideas don't work out. She is creative with finding ways to do things and she always pours her heart and soul into them. So it sucks when they don't work out or she has to find alternatives.

Michael made a face as he turned away from Nanay. This was gonna be hard.

Chapter Text

Jeremy lies on the bed underneath a ridiculous amount of blankets in the dark because he is cold and dramatic as hell. They covered his entire body, including his face. The only thing that peaked out was the bow on top of Michael's bright yellow Mrs. Pac-Man hoodie. Don't judge, it was the only one he felt comfortable wearing. The other options were too warm, had some sort of gay joke on them, or both.

He felt numb as he thought about the day's events. He knew he was crying but it felt off somehow. Like something wasn't right about the way he was doing it. It didn't feel like he had a particular reason to be crying either. He just… was. Which sounds weird after the awful day he's had. Maybe Michael would know what's wrong with him. Michael knows everything- minus what's wrong with Jeremy.

Wait, that doesn't make sense. Why don't Jeremy’s thoughts make any sense? Whatever. He’s too tired for this shit.

"Jeremy," Michael calls out in song tune. Jeremy sniffled in response. He didn't feel like talking when he was like this. Again. Damn it, he needs to stop crying all the time. He's not a child; he shouldn't be doing this as often as he does. There were some shuffles before Jeremy heard a song that sounded like an opera but in English. Was he… was he playing the Phantom of the Opera movie soundtrack?

"Michael," Jeremy hissed, "why the fuck? You didn't even watch the movie with me. That's, like, the bare minimum." Jeremy ignored how nasally his voice sounded. If Michael couldn't see his face then his voice definitely gave away that he was crying. Michael walked closer to the bed and the bed creaked as he sat down. Angel of Music played in the background.

"Because for some reason it makes you happy," Michael said. "That's why." Jeremy peeked out from his hiding spot. Michael chuckled. "Seems like I found a new Pokémon. A Pac-Jeremy. You know, those are rare. They only lurk around 7-Eleven and places of musical theater. I heard if you let him borrow a hoodie, you don't even have to use a Pokeball. He just follows you around. Kind of sucks when you have to pee and shit but eh. It's worth explaining that he has to be outside the bathroom."

"Fuck you." Jeremy pulled the upper half of his body out of the blankets and sat up. He used the back of his hand to wipe his eyes. He decided that a simple, fuck you , was enough of a response and that he would continue on the previous subject. "This isn't even the original cast. You know the originals are always better." Michael grinned. "And the movie wasn’t any- what? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Nothing." Michael continued to smile at him. "So… Nanay had an idea." Jeremy groaned. He didn't want to do anything right now. Fuckin' Michael and his high-energy family. "She wanted to know if you wanted free food." Jeremy raised an eyebrow at his best friend. Weird question but Michael should know the answer to that.

"Uh, hell yeah? Is that even a question?"

"I have to tell you though. There's a catch." Jeremy furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms. Of course, there was a catch. There is always a stupid catch to good things. He can never get good things without something bad happening, can he? "You have to go to another country for it and miss school for a couple of days."

Jeremy.exe has stopped working. Please reboot your Jeremy if you want to continue the conversation without him flipping out. You have t-minus 28 seconds until he embarrasses himself.

"I-" He can't even if he wanted to. He can't, he can't, he can't . It's too much school he would be missing. He has had way too many absences this month because of his predicament. And he has responsibilities. "I-" His dad needs him to check on him and buy groceries. He needs to clean the house and figure out a way to ask his dad to sign a slip so he can go on a field trip in a couple of weeks. He- he's too busy. He can't but he wants to. "I need to throw up."

Jeremy threw the blankets off of him and put his hands over his mouth. He ran to the bathroom connecting to the basement and fell in front of the toilet. Quickly, he pushes back his hoodie so it doesn't get any vomit on it. He hates himself as he pukes. "Oh god-" Ugh. "M-Micha I need-" Jeremy won't say much about it but ew . All he can say is it is freaking disgusting. He hates throwing up.

He hears Michael slapping a hand to his mouth to prevent a chain reaction. The steps creaked as he ran up them to get a glass of water. And maybe he was getting one of his moms to give it to him because Michael hated puking as much as Jeremy. Not a very good thing when both of them start to dry heave when they so much as smell stomach remains.

Jeremy sat with his back against the wall when he was done. He closed the lid and flushed the toilet. He was confident he wouldn't do any more of… that. He shuddered. His mouth tasted gross. He fucking hates it but his energy had been drained. He doesn't feel like moving a single inch more. Jeremy leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He can hear Little Lotte/The Mirror (Angel of Music) playing from the room.

"Jeremy?" Nanay calls out, confirming what Jeremy thought earlier. He lazily opened an eye. "Michael said you got sick. I got you some water so you can get the taste out of your mouth." She stood in the doorway with a cup of clear liquid. Thank the fucking gods for Mrs. Mell.

"Mom, you are a freaking life-saver." He opened his other eye. She gave him the glass and he took a sip. Ugh, he should have spit out because the taste made him want to vomit again. So he did. Spit it out, he means. Not… ugh. Jeremy stood up and spit out into the sink with his eyes closed. He didn't want to see what came out of his mouth. He set the half-empty cup down on the side of the sink.

Wait… oh fuck.

Jeremy froze and opened his eyes. Nanay seemed to process what he said at the same time as him and she had a surprised expression on her face. She coughed awkwardly and hid her mouth behind a fist. When she removed it, she had a smile on her face. Nanay stepped closer to Jeremy as he turned to her, ready with an apology. She took one of Jeremy’s hands, covering it with both of her own.

"Thank you, anak ," she said softly. Jeremy stared at her in disbelief. The apology and any other words died in his throat. How was she not mad at him? Even his own mom didn't like being called Mom. She had always preferred being called by her name. Damn it, and Nanay knew that. She's seen him call his mom by her first name. "I know it’s not easy for you right now and I'm glad you trust me enough to see me as a parent." He felt his face burn up and looked away from Nanay. Her eyes made him feel like there was a spotlight on him and he didn't like it.

"You’re not mad?" He mumbled.

"I could never be mad at you, mahal ." Jeremy risked a glance at the older woman. How… how could anyone say that to him and mean it? She has never lied to Jeremy or Michael about anything this important and he doubts she is lying right now. She would never do it. She is too kind and caring and everything a mother should be. Everything he never had in his own mom.

"W-what does that mean? I've, um, heard you say it b-but I don't…"

"It means love," Jeremy heard from outside the bathroom. The voice has a bit of a thicker accent than Nanay. He looked outside the room and saw Ina with her arms crossed. This was when he briefly wondered if Michael was worried about them finding his weed stash. Though, if he knew his best friend’s moms- Jeremy’s moms, maybe? -they wouldn't freak out about it if Michael explains why he has it. They would probably be fine with it. "It's Tagalog. You may need to brush up on it before we take off, anak ."

"O-oh." He suddenly felt sick again. "So we're just gonna… go without anything or…" Ina smiled at him. His heart felt full. He isn't used to seeing someone who isn't Michael be happy around him. It has been way too long since an adult was genuinely happy to be interacting with him. He wondered when the last time was. It might have been before he came to sleep at the Mell house. His dad was joyful for a brief moment when Jeremy brought a packet of gummy bears for him.

"Well, I don’t think Michael formally got your permission from what I hear." Nanay stifled a laugh at her wife's words. Jeremy suppressed a flinch at the muffled sound. He has heard that being directed at him way too much. He's pretty sure that wasn't good for his mental health but eh. Who cared? "So… think you’re up for an adventure?"

Chapter Text

And that's where we started. Yup, hope you're having fun because Jeremy is nowhere close to having a blast. He was seemingly frozen, staring at his not-actually-his-mom while his not-his-mom-but-he-just-called-Mom held his hand. That sounds stupid but hey, he can't undo what is happening. This isn't exactly in his control and it freaking sucks because he doesn't know what to do. He never knows what to do when he is put on the spot like this. Damn, he kind of hates this situation.

"Y-yes?" Jeremy says. His anxiety is making this decision way more difficult than it needs to be. Plus, Phantom of the Opera was now playing, and that always set him an edge. Jeremy forced himself to not talk because he knows if he starts talking, he will not stop. God knows everyone has seen that happen one too many times when he is stressed and/or panicking. It's annoying how much he does it.

"Jerm, it's okay if you say no," Nanay said. "It's completely your decision."

Jeremy pulled away from her. He crossed one arm across his body and held onto his elbow with that hand. He spoke way too fast for his sake, barely taking a breath. "N-no, I just- I do want to but my dad needs someone to, like, check on him after school and make sure there's food in the house and-and that he hasn't died in his sleep or something. I know I don’t have to do those things but I just- I have to do them. Shoot, I-I didn't mean to say all of that, I-I am so sorry. I-" He made a dying noise.

"It's okay," Nanay said and reached out to him. He took her offer and held her hand. She squeezed it, trying to reassure him that it was okay and that he didn't fuck anything up, like always. Jeremy can't remember the last time he did something that he didn't feel he messed up and therefore was a complete failure that doesn't deserve anyone's love. It's been a while since then. He appreciated Nanay’s effort in trying to stop him from getting that horrible feeling.

"Can- can I go find Michael?" He asked in a small voice. He stared at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with the women. It was embarrassing enough that he needed their comfort. He didn't need to see their reactions to him seeking out their son for comfort. He's sure they would be understanding but based on his own parents, there was always a chance they wouldn't.

"Of course," Nanay said.

"He's in the living room," Ina added. Jeremy absentmindedly nodded, still avoiding eye contact. Ina laughs out of nowhere; he thinks that either she may have found their situation kind of funny or she made a joke in her head. Honestly, he's not sure which one it is because both were very likely to happen in this family. It's a habit they all have, he guesses.

He awkwardly shuffled out of the bathroom. Nanay followed him out and then went to her wife. She kissed her as Jeremy walked up the basement stairs. He tugged at the sleeves of his best friend’s sweater, worried about what would happen next. He has to apologize, of course. He knows how much Michael hates being around vomit. Jeremy also has to tell him the news while somehow not letting Michael know he felt guilty for freaking out and telling Nanay the answer instead of Michael.

He continued to pull on the hoodie and bit his lip as he forced himself to walk to the living room. He hopes Michael won't be mad at him. He's kind of already a disappointment and if he makes Michael sad then God forbid Jeremy is anything but a decent human being. Jeremy feels the metallic taste of blood on his lips. Shit, he pulled off too much skin. He briefly licked the bleeding spot but recoiled because ew. Who is he, Edward Cullen?

Jeremy finds Michael chilling on the couch, scrolling the Supernatural tag on Tumblr mindlessly. Damn, that show never dies, huh? And they have the weirdest memes and gifs…

"Oh, hey Jer," Michael said, waving a hand and looking away from his phone. Jeremy stood behind the couch. He leaned crossed his arms on the top of it and leaned forward to see what posts Michael was looking at  "Are you good now? Because if not, I am gonna need you to back the fuck away." Jeremy smiles and doesn't answer for the sake of messing with his friend. He hears one of Michael’s moms laugh from the other room. " Dude ."

At this, Jeremy laughs. "Yeah, I'm good. And, um…" He trails off. Jeremy scratches the back of his neck for a lack of better things to do. "S-sorry for, uh, freaking out on you. It… there's just… a lot going on, I guess. I'm sorry. You don't… I… I'm sorry." Shit, he felt so lost. He doesn't know what to say that would convey how he felt in words that make sense.

Michael put his phone down on his leg. He reached up to Jeremy and set a hand on his arm. If this was anyone else, Jeremy was sure he would have yeeted himself away. But since it was his best friend, he merely flinched. The touch was warm on his arm and it felt… nice. Different from Nanay, somehow, but still good. He liked it.

"It's fine," Michael tells him with a smile. "I get it. So, uh. Do you have an answer?" This . This is why he freaked out so much. Michael’s stupidly happy smile made him not want to say no for fear of making his best friend sad. And, also, the whole he-has-shit-to-do-at-the-house thing. Jeremy nodded and he swiped his tongue across his lips, ignoring the taste of blood. He desperately needs to buy some chapstick but he's not sure he has the money for it. Maybe he can ask Michael if he has any extras? Or if they can share a chapstick. They're close enough to each other to have totally gay but no homo moments.

Jeremy stared at Michael’s hand. “You realize I’m gonna be freaking out the entire time, right? I’ve never been on an airplane and I literally can't stop worrying about how my dad is going to be while I’m gone. Hell, I worry about him when I’m here , you know?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I think my fifty-thousand cousins might keep you a little distracted.” Jeremy’s eyes snapped to his best friend’s. What . Michael laughed. “Okay, maybe not that many but definitely more than five.” Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “...first cousins. There’s no telling how many second cousins I have.” Of course, there are going to be a lot of people. Hey, let’s make Jeremy stay with a large group of people that he didn’t know. What a great idea! (Note the sarcasm.) Just his luck. 

“Micha, you aren’t exactly making me want to go.” Michael pouted. Jeremy groaned. “I hate you. Fuck you for being all-” Jeremy gestured vaguely in the air with one hand “-you.” Impossibly, Michael stuck out his lip further. How the hell did he do that? That must be a superpower or something. What the fuck. “Stop- no don’t give me that- ugh, you’re impossible.”

“I know,” Michael says, way too happy about it.

Chapter Text

See, from many years of friendship, Michael knew Jeremy better than most people. He knew all his friend’s nervous habits, his ticks, his tells when he was lying. Hell, he even knew the guy's morning and night routine. And one thing he knew as sure as his name was travel would be stressful as fuck for Jeremy. Like, enough that he needs to be ready in case Jeremy starts having a panic attack or god forbid Michael has one. There was the anxiety of making sure you have everything you need and double- maybe even quadruple -checking your luggage to check that you do. You have to pack enough things in your carry-on bag to keep you entertained for an hours-long flight. You have to be fully prepared to be lost in the airport and to run with all of your heavy luggage to get to your flight if you’re running behind schedule.

Trust him. That has happened way too many times to count.

As Michael relayed this information to Jeremy a few days after he agreed to the trip, his friend was biting his lip. Michael could tell he was worried from that action, but he didn’t do anything about it. He tried to make everything as peaceful as he could- letting Jeremy use his headphones to listen to music, taking breaks when he felt overwhelmed, reminding him that he was doing it for the free snacks and 'not white washed' food- but while it worked, Jeremy was still nervous about the trip and the process of packing.

Hence, the lip-biting. The worst that can happen from that was a little bleeding. Michael hated it but it was good for keeping Jeremy calm when the dude is stressed but doesn’t want to tell anyone. So, he lets it slide and doesn't bother telling Jeremy to stop. Michael is not sure Jeremy can stop anyway. He's had the habit for as long as Michael can remember and long-term habits are pretty hard to kick.

Right now, they're trying to make a list of things to bring because Jeremy likes making lists and claims it calms him down when he knows exactly what to do. Michael thinks it's smart; he should try making lists for the next vacation because there is no way they would forget anything when they have a record of what was packed. There have been far too many times when he brings his warmest hoodies without knowing whether or not he would be able to change into something that wouldn't give him a heat stroke, only to land and finds out that it was hot as fucking hell where he was. Jeremy smiles at him when he says this. 

When Jeremy asks about what clothes he should bring, Michael told Jeremy not to pack only cardigans because they needed to be ready for any type of weather since they don’t know what it would be like over there. Jeremy then catches Michael off guard by suggesting he do something so relatively simple. Michael was surprised it slipped his mind as something he can do.

“Why don’t you just google it?” Jeremy asks over the peaceful music playing in the background. He thinks the song is Wish You Were Gay but Michael isn't sure. He's shit at remembering the softer songs, ones that Jeremy likes to listen to when he feels keyed up after the school day and needs to wind down. Thank Jack this was playing from Jeremy's phone. Michael knows if his best friend ever asks him to make a playlist similar to this, he would struggle immensely.

Michael freezes at Jeremy's suggestion. He hovers, holding the shirt he was trying to shove in a too-small suitcase. He tries to come up with some witty smartass remark but can't think of one. A lot is going on and he thinks too many brain cells were wasted today while trying to figure out how to ask his teachers to let them bring work abroad with them. He defaults to something that makes people react in a way that he always found funny. 

“Why don’t you take your logic," Michael said in a teasing tone, "and shove it up your a-”

“Michael!” Nanay scolded from upstairs. The corners of Michael's lip twitched upward. The door was open so there would be a little more light in the room, and he knew his mothers could hear him. He could see both Nanay and Ina holding back a laugh when he glanced out. “Let’s not give a reason for Jeremy to want to not go, yeah?” Michael playfully rolled his eyes in response. Jeremy snickered. It was all in good nature; none of them were serious in any way.

"Dude, one day you're going to get one of them mad with that joke, and it won't be pretty." And there goes not being serious. Michael looked at his friend. He was obviously trying for the same light tone but it sounded a little too… truthful, in a way. Kind of like Jeremy has had that happen before. His friend's smile didn't go as wide as it normally does. Michael would be lying if he said it doesn't break his heart that Jeremy has gone through so many bad things.

“You sound a little too serious about that,” Michael muttered under his breath. Apparently, Jeremy heard because his cheeks turned bright red and he immediately faced away, fumbling with packing the few belongings that he keeps at this house. It's all Jeremy has lying around that he needs to put away. His toothbrush, his two favorite cardigans, deodorant, pajamas that Nanay and Ina bullied him into letting them buy for him, and a small packet of bunny-shaped gummies. The rest of Jeremy’s travel bag (the one he had brought over when he realized he was going to spend a long time at Michael’s house) was full of clothes and had his wallet.

"So," Jeremy started, "what, uh…" Jeremy cleared his throat and lifted a fist to cover his mouth as he did the quick action. "How are we- what's it… what is it going to be like when we get on the plane?" Michael heard the distinct noise of Jeremy zipping up his bag. Michael took a moment to think. Or, in other words, that would probably be more accurate, remember what Ina and Nanay had told him.

"Well, you and I are going to be sitting together." Michael gave a quick shove to the shirt sticking out and turned to face his best friend. Jeremy had his bag in his arms and stared innocently at Michael. "Ina told me that she and Nanay are going to be sitting behind us to make sure we don't get too rowdy or whatever. There's…" He hesitated. Michael wanted to tell Jeremy that there were going to be a lot of people there but, in all honesty, he hated thinking about that. Michael hated crowds and the loud ass noises they make, and he hated the way people would bump into him and make him want to rip his skin off. It was… shit, he shuddered just thinking about it.

"Micha, you good?" Emotions? Feelings? Jeremy wants to talk about Michael’s emotions. HE WANTS TO HAVE A CONVERSATION. Fuck that, no way. As much as Michael likes helping Jeremy through difficult situations, Michael did not like being the subject of them. I don't know if you know but he kind of hates talking about how he feels. That's a whole thing with him so he would rather it never be brought up. But, of course, it's his best friend asking so he'll bother to lie and joke about shit.

"Yeah. Don't you worry your little dolphin tail, you fucking furry."

"I'm not a furry," Jeremy grumbled. He held his bag to his chest with his forearms and crossed his skinny cardigan-clad arms. Jeremy looked at the floor briefly, looking deep in thought for half a moment. Michael thinks Jeremy was reminded of something but Jeremy is looking back at him now. He wonders if this conversation was touching a nerve or something but quickly brushes off the thought. He's the only one who calls Jeremy a furry so there shouldn't be anything bad associated with it. Except, you know, they are both well aware of what furries do.

Michael grinned. He hoped he was making the right choice by adding more to the conversation.  "That's what they all say." Jeremy pouted and Michael laughed at his best friend’s expression.

"You're a fucking bully, you know that?" Jeremy said jokingly. Michael continued to smile at his best friend.

"Thanks, I try my best. I was worried I wasn't bullying you enough so I appreciate the feedback, my good sir." Michael clasps his hands in front of him and bends forward, imitating the bow that he has seen Jeremy do during the curtain calls at the local theater. Jeremy recognized it and rolled his eyes. He shifted a bit so he would be able to clap enthusiastically for his dramatic friend and his antics.

"Bravo! Bravo! Encore, Micha!"

Michael thinks he hears Ina mutter, " Mahal , Jeremy is corrupting Michael with musical theater again."

Nanay's answer was: " Fuck yeah !" He heard Ina sigh. Michael fucking loves hearing his moms reaction to his stupid conversations. They're always weirded out by something and it's hilarious. God, he hopes that this never changes. He hopes that he and Jeremy can keep having odd talks and that Ina and Nanay get to question what kind of children they have raised.

He hopes like there is no tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Jeremy decided he hated vacations the day before they were set to leave. A lot was happening, and he could barely keep track of everything. For example, a couple of minutes ago, Michael was rushing to pack a bunch of things to keep them entertained because, and he quotes, "What else are we supposed to do when you can't understand what the hell my family is saying? Give you a crash course on cuss words? Set your phone to only speak Tagalog?"

Jeremy didn't have to get ready all that much. He had everything he needed to pack and was done yesterday. It wasn't very hard to do, considering he already had an idea of what to pack ever since he came to stay at the house. But he was safe, taking his time to recheck everything multiple times. He made his lists to keep track of things. He created a Spotify playlist for the inevitable time when he feels overwhelmed. He was ready to take on the world with how prepared he was.

Jeremy sat criss-cross on the basement floor, earbuds in and pencil in his mouth as he looked at the list of things in his bags. These were going to be the things that he wouldn't have with him on the plane. He took the pencil from his mouth and crossed off the things he knew for sure he packed. Michael, who was chilling on the bed and playing games on his phone, glanced up at Jeremy every few seconds. Jeremy mouthed the words of the things on his list and ignored his best friend. 

• 7 boxers
• 7 shirts
• Schoolwork
• Extra cardigan
• 7 jeans
• Toothpaste
•  Michael’s Mrs. Pac-Man hoodie
• Extra pair of shoes
• Deodorant
• Laptop charger

Jeremy furrowed his eyebrows. Should he bring that with him, instead? Maybe the airport will have charging ports so he can charge it before they get on the plane. Then he wouldn't need it with him. And who knows if there are going to be places to plug in his laptop charger on the plane. Then that would be a waste of space in his bag. He decided to not cross it off. He'll ask Michael about it later.

• Shampoo
• Matching fluffy socks w/ Micha
• Toothbrush
• Conditioner
• Pajamas
• 7 pairs of (normal) socks

Jeremy brought the pencil to his lips and absentmindedly chewed on the end of it. Luckily, there was no eraser so it didn't taste as gross as it could have. Jeremy hated the taste of rubber. As much as he didn’t like not being able to erase things, it was still better than not being able to get a disgusting taste out of his mouth.

"That better not be my pencil," Michael said, raising an eyebrow. Jeremy tensed up and took an earbud out, making Feed Me (Git it!) from Little Shop of Horrors sound quieter than before. There was nothing like an angry and hungry man-eating plant to help you get in the mood for list-checking. Hey, it isn’t his fault that background music of his choice helps him concentrate. It’s when other people talk that he can’t focus very well. Characters and such don’t count.

"Sorry." Jeremy moved it away from him and he winced at the high-pitched tone of his voice. Shit, he could not remember when he started biting the end of the pencil. He was kind of focused on his list and the music. "I didn't even realize." Michael pursed his lips, making a bitchface, but didn’t say anything. Jeremy let himself feel guilty for a couple of seconds before remembering that it was Michael who handed him the pencil earlier and he probably gave him an eraserless one on purpose. He must have not paid attention to whom the pencil belonged. Really, who’s fault is it?

Okay, he’ll admit it’s still Jeremy’s but that’s beside the point.

“So, how’s the list?” Michael asked, setting his phone screen down on his thigh. Jeremy is uncomfortably aware of the sound of his heart beating. He doesn’t particularly like that fact it is speeding up. Fuck, how does one use words? Or form sentences? He knew he learned this in, like, preschool but that information is currently eluding him at the moment. As a dumbass teenager he should know this but.. words were never his friend. He considered them his mortal enemy, actually.

Regardless of his relationship with speaking his thoughts and words in general, basic human communications were not coming to him.

“Uhh…" Shit. How was he supposed to answer a question like that? It's so open-ended. There was way too much potential for him to make a mistake. As much as Jeremy liked talking to Michael, he hated to say the wrong responses to his questions. "Fine," Jeremy squeaked. "I got a lot done and I think I have everything?

"I don't know, I should probably check again. Y-you can never be too careful. Right?" He set his list down in front of him and put the pencil on top of the piece of paper. "I-I need to check because what if I don't have everything and then we get there and, you know I don't- I don't-" Jeremy cut himself off. He had his hands tangled in his hair now, pulling at the short strands in an attempt to physically channel his frustration and calm himself down. Yup, he definitely had the wrong response. Crap.

Michael was next to him in a second. He slung an arm around his best friend and pulled him into his lap. No homo, of course. He carefully pried Jeremy’s hand away from his head and pulled them between their chests. The action felt strangely comforting to Jeremy but he digressed, chalking it up to the closeness to Michael. Jeremy pressed as close to the other boy as he could.

"I want you to take a deep breath for me. Okay, bes ? You can time it to your music if you really need to." Jeremy nodded. He forced himself to follow Michael’s request. "There you go. Just keep breathing like that and you'll be okay. I promise that everything will be fine." Jeremy made a distressed sort of hum. "Listen, if you forgot anything, you know Ina and Nanay will just get it for you. Or if you aren't comfortable with that, then you are more than welcome to use my shit. Mi shit es su shit, or whatever they say."

"You promise?" Jeremy mumbled. Michael kissed his forehead. He took the loose earbud, the one not in Jeremy’s ear, and carefully put it in Jeremy’s ear. Jeremy noticed that the song changed to Suddenly, Seymour. It was fitting but he didn’t really like that if he were comparing his current predicament to the song, he would be in Audrey’s place. Jeremy decided to ignore that and focus on the warm feeling tucked away in his chest.

He felt… loved. As if Michael cared for him. Jeremy knew for a fact that he does. God knows the shit Michael goes through in order to deal with his best friend’s dumb ass. But knowing is different than actually feeling it. You can tell someone you love them all you want but you've got to show it somehow. And with Michael, hugs and cuddles were his way of telling Jeremy that he is loved and not alone. So… yeah. Cue Jeremy’s touch-starved ass having a realization.

"I promise."

"And," Jeremy thought to add, "it's, mi casa es su casa . I'm not sure 'shit' is a word in Spanish. Unless I'm wrong, I don't know. I really don't know anything so um. Yeah." Michael smiled at him. Jeremy's brain short-circuited from the joy in his best friend's expression, surprised to see something like that. "I-I have done very little Duolingo. I'm pretty sure Duo is coming for my head soon."

Michael openly laughs. Jeremy can easily feel the vibrations of his friend's chest along with the steady beat of Michael’s heart. It feels nice. Calming, in a way, to have someone who feels so alive right there with him. It grounded him, and kept him in touch with the situation. He liked it. He liked it a lot, actually.

"Good luck to Duo because he'll have to go through me first." His smile is cheeky like he knows something Jeremy doesn't. Jeremy feels a little left out but it's Michael so he tried to push away the feeling. Jeremy knew Michael liked to make jokes to himself so he couldn't get mad at that or let himself feel worthless over it. It was stupid to feel the way he did.

"I hope you win that fight," Jeremy muttered. "I need shit to protect me and you're my first line of defense." Michael laughed. It sounded more fond, if the lower and more amused volume was anything to go by. Jeremy’s heart swelled at the noise Michael made, and the way the vibration from Michael felt good. Jeremy would be lying if he didn't say that he thought this is what paradise felt like.

"So do I, 'Miah," Michael said. "So do I."

Chapter Text

Despite Jeremy’s entire… thing, breakdown, tiny panic attack- whatever you want to call it -they made it through the rest of the day. They listened to music to decompress, courtesy of Jeremy’s musicals playlist and breakdown playlist on Spotify. Michael had taken the job of picking some of the songs while his best friend calmed down so he picked ones like Good Kid from the Lightning Thief musical, The Night We Met by Lord Huron, Trying My Best by Anson Seabra, Lifeboat from Heathers, Hiding In The Blue by TheFatRat and RIELL, Waving Through a Window from Dear Evan Hansen, and The Doctor Said by Chole Adams.

Now that he thinks about it, isn't there a kid at their school named Evan Hansen? Huh.

Jeremy was now in bed, fast asleep under the covers, with Michael sitting next to him. The former's head was in the latter's lap and Michael rested a hand on his friend's forehead. His snores were quiet and Michael half smiled when he first heard them. Jeremy deserved rest. He's been through too much today and gods know Michael understands that. Maybe asking about Jeremy’s lists wasn't such a good idea. He'll try to remember that for next time. If there is a next time because now he's worried about how Jeremy will do on the trip and if he'll want to go on another one with them.

Don't get him wrong, he believes Jeremy will be okay. His Player Two is strong, stronger than anyone he knows. And that is saying something considering his moms were feisty independent women who didn't take shit from anyone. But he had to wonder if Jeremy would make it out completely fine. There were going to be large and boisterous crowds, rude people who pushed you without thinking or apologizing, and annoying children constantly asking their parents questions and bickering with siblings if they have any. And they were definitely going to experience some homophobia towards them because that's just the way the world works. Sometimes people just can't handle two boys calming each other down or two passionate women in love.

Gods, the thoughts of what could happen were endless. Especially considering the chances of it triggering the poor kid. Maybe there will be a bathroom door slammed too hard or a certain phrase that reminds Jeremy of the horrible days when his mom was still around. Maybe Jeremy will bump into someone he recognizes from a bad situation or someone who just looks like a person from Jeremy's past. There were so many ghosts that could appear and Michael wouldn't even know until he had a crying and hyperventilating Jeremy Heere in his arms.

Michael played with Jeremy’s soft hair, trying to hold everything in. He didn't like thinking about what his best friend has gone through. And to be honest with himself, he's fucking terrified that he won't be able to stop anything that can potentially happen to Jeremy. He knows it is irrational but come on . He just can't stop worrying about the boy he's known his entire life, someone who was just so amazing and awesome and everything a best friend should be.

An hour passes and Michael is still there. He barely noticed time passing him by. He imagined the clock is just tick, tick, ticking away. Kind of like the non-existent heartbeat under the floorboards in Edgar Allen Poe's story, A Tall-Tale Heart . Michael wondered if that was a metaphor for his life. Like the man, did he question if he was bat-shit insane and still tried to explain that he wasn't? Maybe he was like the character, who was explaining that he wasn’t crazy, and instead, he was just a genius. Except Michael is trying to convince himself that he's helping his best friend, not justifying murder. Perhaps he was like the man in the story in the sense he was scaring Jeremy down to his core and right up to Jeremy’s final breath.

Michael really hopes not. That would suck ass and it's scary he can relate anything from Mr. Poe's works to his real life. The guy is considered the father of horror for god's sake. Michael would hate to be relating to a horror story, of all things. Although, his English teacher would be proud of him for interpreting the story in such a unique way. Hell, she would probably just be happy one of her students understood the damn thing.

Michael sighs. This is gonna be a long hour.

Another hour later, Michael is lying under the blankets next to his best friend. He isn't doing anything really. He's just taking deep breaths through his nose. In slowly and out slowly. Jeremy has a hold of him now and he is resting his head on Michael’s chest. Michael hugged back just as tightly, protective of the taller teenager. He flinched with every small whimper Jeremy made in his sleep. Michael hopes Jeremy won't remember his dream in the morning because right now, it doesn't seem like a good one.

The thing about Jeremy is he likes warmth and cuddles when he is tired or scared or just feeling plain needy. In his sleep, it's a little worse because he can't stop himself from doing things. Jeremy often has nightmares, even if he won't ever admit to them. Those nightmares result in Michael staying close to him the entire night, as Michael is a light sleeper and any small noise wakes him up if he isn't dead in the middle of his dreams. Things lead to Michael staying up, choosing to card his hand through his best friend’s hair because it's a comforting motion and makes Jeremy feel good, and his waist or stomach being fucking crushed due to Jeremy’s tight grips.

Seriously, how was Jeremy that strong in his sleep?

The point is Michael currently has to focus on breathing. Usually, Jeremy doesn't hold him too tightly but for the past few moments, he has. Jeremy’s eyelids have been struggling to stay closed and every few minutes he is sure that Jeremy will wake up. Jeremy’s breathing isn't level and he's worried that he isn't having a dream but instead a night terror. Michael really hopes it's not about Jeremy’s mom, either. Michael knows she still shows up in his sleep and does things to him that should never be mentioned because of Jeremy’s lack of memory. Thankfully Jeremy never remembers those dreams. Michael knew most of what happened and desperately wished that Jeremy wouldn't be burdened with that information.

Michael takes a deep breath. He watched his best friend’s breathing as it slowly went back to normal. Huh. Maybe Michael was just being himself and overreacting. Whatever it was, it's going away and Jeremy doesn't restrict Michael’s breaths in the slightest. Michael felt it was safe enough for him to sleep, and now he was actually tired. Sleep came to him quicker than usual, due to the exhaustion of packing for their trip.

Michael thinks about something he and Jeremy were told earlier in life. He hopes to be able to have it in the next few weeks, for his, Jeremy’s, Nanay's, and Ina's sake. To live a day of peace , his Lola Julie would say during a toast. To experience a world in which one can leave behind their deepest fears and insecurities. To be everything you hold deep inside and nothing you aren't .

Chapter Text

Jeremy happens to hate waking up when there is no life existing naturally. Aka, way too fucking early. Err… earlier than Michael, or even Ina and Nanay. He doesn't like being in a basically empty ghost house for about two hours and having literally nothing to do aside from scrolling Pinterest and listening to music. Which, you know, is how his day starts. Yay.

He's lying in bed next to his best friend, happily indulging his fast-asleep best friend in a hug. Michael was warm and comfy, kind of like a human heated blanket. The trademark red hoodie contributed to the warmth and for that, Jeremy was grateful. The weight of Michael’s arms was protective and safe so Jeremy couldn't dream of pushing them off of him. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like this. A big fucking liar with a long wooden nose. (Ha. Long.)

Jeremy had his earbuds in so the original Broadway cast album of Dear Evan Hansen played quietly. He would rather have it blasting on Michael’s speakers but he knew today was going to be long. Everyone needed their rest to not be interrupted by musicals. Especially Michael. So listening to So Big/ So Small on a low volume would have to do with the current situation.

He scrolled through one of his meme boards on Pinterest. A lot of it was Tumblr and Twitter posts. Some of them were memes that people had created themselves and uploaded to Pinterest. A handful of the pins were funny drawings that Michael saves when he uses Jeremy’s account. A shameful amount of pins had ifunny marks on them- not that both of them would ever willingly admit that to anyone.

Michael mumbled something incoherent in his sleep and tightened his hold on his best friend. Jeremy ran a hand through the other boy’s hair, hoping that would calm him down a little. He doesn’t think Michael is having a nightmare but you can never be too sure. Plus, doing that gives him something to focus on.

“Jeremy,” Jeremy heard his best friend say as the soundtrack changed from the Finale of Dear Evan Hansen to Beautiful from Heathers. Jeremy looked confused for a second and put his phone down next to him in a place it wouldn’t fall. He returned his attention back to the Filipino hugging him. “Don’t go. Don’t-no-” Michael scrunched up his face in what looked like pain. “Come back, ‘Miah. Please. I’m sorry.” Something inside Jeremy twisted. He didn’t like the way those words sounded in any context and in this case, that meant Michael was dreaming about the impossible. Aka Jeremy leaving him for whatever reason.

“Shh, I’m right here, Micha. I’m not going anywhere.” Michael whimpered. Urgh, right in the feels. That hurts- the fact that Michael is so scared of Jeremy ditching him and leaving him to be alone, he has nightmares about it. There isn’t a word to describe how Jeremy feels right now but the closest would be bad or guilty. If he had to guess, it’s probably his fault Michael is afraid of forever being alone.

“I’m sorry. Don’t go- Jer, don’t leave me. Please, I'm sorry. Come back, don't leave me alone, please .” Jeremy can feel Michael's short nails digging into his side but he ignored it. He deserves it, anyway, for being the root of Michael’s nightmare. Jeremy stroked his friend’s hair, hushing him in an attempt to help. He hates it when Michael feels scared. Michael moves closer to him, pushing his head against Jeremy’s chest, and Jeremy can feel a wet spot appearing on his shirt.

"Hey, it's just a dream," Jeremy says softly, unsure whether or not Michael can hear him. "You're having a nightmare, Micha. You're okay. It's not real. I would never leave you. I'm right here and not going anywhere." Michael gasped and this told Jeremy that Michael was awake. The crying didn't let up and Michael slightly tightened his hold. Jeremy doesn't mind it because he knows Michael is attempting to ground himself.

"You were- you left me," the usually unemotional boy sobbed. "You left me alone with her and you knew how much she hated me." Okay, now Jeremy is confused. The only women in their lives right now were Nanay and Ina. Of course, he could always be talking about one of their teachers but none of those people would warrant a strong reaction like this. Plus, most teachers love Michael. Jeremy has only known a handful of educators that couldn't stand his best friend.

"Who, Micha? I doubt I wouldn't leave you with anyone I didn't trust."

"Your mom," Michael whispered. Jeremy would laugh if he wasn’t paralyzed by those words. His mom had never liked Michael; she said he was a bad influence and she hated the fact his best friend had two moms. Jeremy felt a surge of anger at his former family member and overprotection for his friend. What the fuck did Regina do to make Michael afraid of her? He was sure he never left them alone in a room together so, again, what the hell did she do to him?

"Michael." Jeremy struggled to keep his tone soft and calming. It was extremely hard to do that. He respects Michael for being able to do this often. "What did Regina do?" Michael flinched. They never talked about Jeremy’s mom. He doesn't remember much but what he did remember wasn't good. She was not a nice person to Jeremy. She was prone to talking down to him- which, at the time, Jeremy didn't understand- and saying less than polite things to him when Dad wasn't around. Jeremy was told later in life, in his teenage years, that he was also physically abused but he doesn't remember it. He must have been very young, or maybe he blocked the memory because it was too traumatic.

Jeremy hated her despite the limited memories. He hates that because of her, he has a deep seated fear that he will never amount to anything and is nothing but a placeholder in the world. He hates how he'll react to certain movements but doesn't know what exact situation he was in when he was a kid that caused him to flinch so violently in his older age. He hates that she made Michael feel unwelcome in their home when she had still been married to Dad. He hates Regina with every inch of his being. And with how tall he is, that's saying something.

Michael seemed to sense the fuming. "N-nothing! I just- she was scary and she, you know, did stuff to you…" Jeremy knew that Michael was referring to the big blanks of Jeremy’s life. He sighed. This was a tough subject for him because he doesn't know what he went through. Hell, Michael may have more memories of what happened to Jeremy than Jeremy does. The one who, you know, actually experienced everything.

"She wouldn't do anything that would hurt you, Micha," Jeremy tried to assure. "Not back then, not now, not ever. She's gone and she won't… she can't ever come back." Michael nodded against Jeremy’s chest. "Do you want to talk about the dream?" Michael shook his head. Which was okay. Jeremy wasn't expecting him to say yes because when has Michael ever willingly talked about his nightmares involving one Jeremy Heere?

“What’re you listening to?” Michael asked. Jeremy recognized the attempt at a subject change and decided to take mercy on the boy.

“The first song in Heathers. It’s called ‘Beautiful’. Wanna listen?” Michael nodded. Jeremy took out an earbud. He thought about wiping it off on the blanket in case there was any gross stuff on it but stopped himself from doing it. He didn't want to get icky things on Michael’s blanket. He put it in his friend’s ear since Michael kept his arms wound around Jeremy’s waist.

Michael hummed in content. “Feminism,” he whispered, as Veronica started to introduce the Heathers. Jeremy laughed quietly at his best friend and his sleepy words. He realized that his hold was getting looser. Michael must be falling asleep again. Jeremy had really mixed feelings about that. On one hand, Michael should get more sleep and honestly, so should Jeremy. On the other hand, Jeremy thinks he might have to turn down the music. Which he kind of doesn’t want to do.

Oh well. He’ll do that anyway. Anything for his best friend, right?

“Feminism,” Jeremy parroted and Michael giggled adorably. Jeremy smiled and he could feel Michael’s breaths evening out.

Chapter Text

Two hours later, Jeremy was listening to Meant To Be Yours and crying when he heard JD’s reaction to seeing Veronica, you know, pretending to fucking be dead . Whatever. It’s not like he cares. (Which is a big fucking lie. He’s telling this to himself to feel better and not like the geek he is.) He knows it’s not real but he can’t help feeling actual pain at the situation. He also knows how the show ends but that doesn’t stop him from feeling way too strong emotions about it.

“ Bes , why’re you crying?” Michael mumbled against Jeremy’s chest. He took a moment to listen, as the earbud was still in his ear. “Oh. That's why.” Jeremy nodded. Michael winced at the sudden loud sound as JD sang, “ Still I will if I must! ” He flinched at the sound of Mrs. Sawyer’s screams. “Jer, it’ll work out in the end. See, she’s-" The song switched to I Say No. Michael stopped to listen. "Veronica is figuring things out.”

Michael rubbed Jeremy's back in a comforting motion and Jeremy thinks that their roles have been switched from before. Except Jeremy was crying about fictional characters in a musical and not anything that mattered. Wow, he needs to stop listening to stuff that makes him sad. It’s starting to affect him way too much. First Phantom of the Opera. Then the Lightning Thief musical. Then Little Shop of Horrors. Then the Book of Mormon. Now Heathers. He’s starting to see a theme here that he doesn’t particularly like…

“I know,” Jeremy said. “B-but it’s still so- so sad that JD had to see that a-and that Veronica had to resort t-to it.” Michael snorted at him.

“You’re an idiot.” Michael struggled to take his stiff arms from holding his best friend in place. He scooted away from Jeremy and sat up, forcing Jeremy to follow. Jeremy used the palm of his hand to wipe away the light flow of tears falling down his face. He needed to stop crying about stupid things. "C'mon. We're gonna eat." Michael yawned, scrunching his eyelids just a tad. The corner of Jeremy’s lip quirked up in amusement. Seems like his best friend is still waking up.

Michael reached out to Jeremy and grabbed a handful of Jeremy’s pajama sleeves.  He used his other hand to grab the earbuds and yank them out of their ears. It kind of stung for a moment before going away. Jeremy used his free hand to rub his ear so he could get rid of the weird sensation of having something pulled away from him so cruelly . Michael really showed no mercy, huh?

Jeremy got his revenge though. He got to laugh as he watched the other boy attempt to keep a hold of Jeremy while he struggled to get out of bed. Michael was successful only because Jeremy took mercy on him- unlike the evil Michael over there -and helped move the blankets off of them. Jeremy was half confused and half amused that he had left his glasses on the bedside table when Michael started dragging him through the room. The taller of the two was only a little bit worried about his best friend running them into walls.

He still let the Filipino lead the way. If that didn't show trust, Jeremy doesn't know what does.

The ground was cold under their socked feet- it's not gay to sleep in each other’s arms if they are wearing socks -and made quiet creaks as they walked up the stairs, through the small hallway, and to the kitchen. He heard a low buzzing sound but ignored it. Michael rubbed his eye and said nothing, which Jeremy was more than okay with. He was content with sitting in silence if it meant he got to see Michael acting on his first instincts.

Michael dragged them to the kitchen. He tried grabbing the handle of the refrigerator to open it. He missed several times and pouted. Jeremy, in an attempt to preserve his Player One’s dignity, pretended he didn’t see that. Michael would soon realize he doesn’t have glasses. If he hadn’t processed that in his sleepy state already.

In one… two..

“I can’t see shit,” Michael muttered as he finally got a hold of the door handle. “It’s all blurry.” And… wait for it… “I’m not wearing my glasses, am I?” And bingo was his name. Jeremy snickered and Michael shot him a glare. He opened the refrigerator and Jeremy… was confused about how the fuck Michael knew what he was doing.

Michael let go of Jeremy and pushed him lightly towards the breakfast bar. Oh. Oh , Michael wants him to go take a seat. Got it. Jeremy did just that. He sat on the one closest to his best friend. The seat’s pattern was the bisexual flag; this, although unusual, was his favorite chair. Jeremy always liked this stool. It had been a gift from Ina to Nanay, the year Michael and Jeremy had turned six years old. Nanay had come out as bi to them and a few days later, Ina popped in with this amazing chair.

Michael muttered something under his breath, pulling him from reminiscing about the stool’s frankly adorable history. It sounded like a mixture of cuss words and names of food. Jeremy pulled part of his lip and started to chew on it. He also brought one of his formerly dangling legs to go underneath him. He knew his leg would get that tingling feeling and then go numb but he didn’t care at the moment. It was comfortable, alright? Don't judge him and his weird sitting habits.

“What?” Jeremy said. Michael turned and squinted at him. “Dude, are you okay? You seem a little out of it. I know It’s early but, like, you’re not usually like this. Is… is that dream still bothering you? Do you want to talk about it? B-because I'm here- not, like, ‘cuz it’s my name but, um… I’m here for you, man. Whenever you need me.”

Michael stared at him, processing the words for a full minute. “I am way too goddamn tired for this crap.” Jeremy laughed nervously and ran a hand through his short hair, tugging ever so slightly to try to get out his nerves and so he could do something with his hands. It didn't help very much. He should see if he can find ways to stop being so anxious all the time. He didn't like this stupid feeling. Didn't like it when he was little, and didn't like it now in his teenage years when confidence mattered.

Jeremy watched as Michael grabbed seemingly random things out of the fridge. It felt strangely domestic like he was meant to be here. Maybe because he's started so many of his days like this. Earlier mornings waking up next to his best friend and breakfast being made by the both of them as they trade jokes and make each other yawn.

Peace seemed to fill the air between them. The only noise was from Michael grabbing things and placing them on the granite countertop next to the fridge. Jeremy crossed his arms, set them down on the breakfast bar, and laid his head on them. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds before his best friend started speaking, the asshole.

“Jer, what the fuck is this?” Michael asked, holding up a bag of… nuts? Is Michael holding a bag of water chestnuts? What the hell? Why the fuck did they have that? They haven't had any meals with that. Maybe Ina or Nanay were planning on making salad soon? Before they knew about the trip? Or maybe Michael bought it when he was having weird cravings? Jeremy has many questions and whatever Michael was holding was the source of several of them.

"Uh…" Jeremy lifted his head. He wished he brought his phone and earbuds so that it didn't feel as awkward as it was. “I think they're chestnuts. I'm not sure."

"Huh." Michael put it back in the refrigerator. “Didn’t know we had those.” He closed the fridge and moved to the counter next to it. The Filipino opened the cabinets, probably looking for a pan or something. He found one that was a little flat; good for cooking the now-slightly warm chorizo that Michael had taken out of the refrigerator. 

“What are you making?” Jeremy asked. He eyed the potatoes, salt, eggs, vegetable oil, pepper, and chorizo package on the counter. Jeremy knew the answer- it was kind of obvious. He just wanted to know if Michael knew. If he didn’t, then what the hell is he trying to do? Burn down the whole house? Yeah, as much as Jeremy is dreading going to an airport, he wouldn’t like to catch on fire to avoid it. It’s kind of his second home so he needs the house un-torched. Also, you know, the Mells need a place to live and he’s not sure his dad would be okay with him inviting them to live with them.

“Chorizo and shit,” Michael answered. He put the pan on the stove, poured the oil, and turned on the flame. He felt around the drawers, looking for what he assumed was a knife to cut the potatoes. Jeremy shouldn’t let Michael use it if he can. Just saying. I mean, letting Michael- who is pretty blind -handle something that can cut a finger off is not a good idea. It would be very stupid and irresponsible of him.

“Better not kill us,” Jeremy muttered. Michael turned, leaned against the counter, and gave him a cheeky smile. Fucking asshole.

Chapter Text

As it turns out, Michael is pretty good at cooking while blind. He was able to do everything but cut the potatoes. Which, yeah, okay that makes sense, and thank god Michael asked Jeremy to do that. Jeremy was pretty sure the teen was going to welcome the challenge with a stupid smirk plastered on his face like the idiot he was. It was a huge relief when Michael turned to him and asked, "Can you cut the potatoes?"

But you know what? Let’s ignore that for the moment. It’s best to be as calm as he can. He has a very long day ahead of him.

Right now they’re on the couch, long done eating (or trying to eat, in Jeremy's case) the quite honestly amazing breakfast. Doctor Who reruns, of all things, were playing on the tv because they were too lazy to change the channel. It was quiet both so it didn’t make Jeremy anxious when there were loud noises and so it didn’t wake up Ina and Nanay. Jeremy’s unfinished bowl of food was set on the table next to the couch.

Michael sat at one end of the couch and he leaned against the armrest. Jeremy had strewn his legs over Michael’s- no homo, of course -and was practically sitting on his lap. He also had a blanket wrapped around him because it was fucking cold today. Why couldn’t the shitty New Jersey weather take a break for just one day?

“Jeremy,” Michael asked, “how the fuck are you so cold?”

Jeremy glanced at his friend. The other boy had gotten his glasses from the bedroom so he was wearing them. No more blind-as-a-bat Michael. Michael’s hair was a little messy due to the fact he was way too tired to put gel in it this early in the morning. Michael kind of reminded him of a hedgehog, not that Jeremy would ever tell him. He's pretty sure Michael would (softly) smack him for saying that.

"I dunno, man." Jeremy snuggled closer and rested his head on his best friend’s shoulder. The hoodie was warm and welcoming, and Jeremy closed his eyes. His legs hurt a little from the angle he was sitting in so he moved them slightly enough that it wouldn't bother him. He listened to his best friend’s slow breathing, counting the seconds between his inhales and exhales. Michael put an arm around the taller boy and pulled Jeremy closer.

"If you wanted to cuddle," Michael murmured, "just say so. I don't mind." Jeremy hummed in contentment. Michael sighed softly, taking a moment to play with his best friend’s hair. He ran his fingers through before twirling short strands around his fingers. "It's gonna be a long day, Jer. I'm glad you're gonna be there with me. I wouldn't have it any other way." Yeah, because that wasn't concerning in any way.

"Mm hm," came the noise from Jeremy. Michael laughed and the breeze from it brushed the sleepy teen's hair ever so slightly. "You’re warm, Micha."

"Yeah?" Jeremy listened to the tenth doctor speak to Rose for a few seconds before turning his attention to his best friend. Michael muttered under his breath the lines to the show along with David Tennent. God, he was such a dork. But they were geeks together so obviously Jeremy had to join in. He smiled as he whispered Rose's lines into Michael’s chest.

They continued like this, huddled together on the couch until they heard the unmistakable noise of Ina and Nanay waking up. Jeremy didn't want to move so he stayed close to his friend. Okay but seriously- Michael was really comfortable to lay on, Jesus Christ. He didn't try pushing Jeremy off or poking him to be annoying. His heartbeat was always steady so there was constant noise that helped calm Jeremy down. Michael usually didn't talk while they were like this, which Jeremy greatly appreciated because this made him feel sleepy. And holy shit, he's not joking when he says Michael is warm.

Hence why he was annoyed when Ina called out, "Boys, stop being adorably homosexual for five seconds and grab your bags. We have to leave in less than thirty minutes." Jeremy blinked as he processed reality. Michael was faintly blushing and Jeremy was sure he was too, judging by the heat in his cheeks. Fuck, it was way too early for them to be blushing at anything.

Jeremy pulled his head away from Michael so he could watch the pajama-clad women and see why they were interrupting his cuddle time with their only son. Nanay openly laughed as she walked by them, pulling a suitcase decorated with floral prints behind her and a black and neon green Nike backpack hanging off one shoulder. Ina walked ahead of her with Michael’s luggage and opened the door.

“After you, my lady,” Ina said, smirking.

“Fuck you,” Nanay responded to her wife as she walked outside. “I am a strong independent bisexual mother. I don’t need no woman or man to help me.”

Michael and Jeremy looked at each other as soon as Nanay and Ina went out the door and they laughed. Michael had to wipe a tear from his eye as they continued to listen to the older women’s bickering about the small stuff and saying things like, “Oh hell no, I am driving. I love you but you suck ass at it. Maybe Michael and Jeremy need to make you play Mario Kart so you can get better.”

Yup. Those were the amazing influences Michael and Jeremy grew up with.

Jeremy's flushed face was fully pressed against his best friend as he laughed. He stayed there even after his and Michael's laughter died down. Michael sighed contently and traced patterns with his finger onto Jeremy’s arm. At first, it was a flower. Then an infinity sign. Then the Deathly Hallows symbol from Harry Potter. Another flower. A star. An infinity symbol. A circle with a line through it. A spiral. A cursive 'J'. A bow-tie. A treble clef. An 'I'. A heart. A 'D'. An I.

"Michael, I will slap you if you finish that sentence." Michael snickered and continued drawing and writing on him. Another star. An 'X'. A circle. A bass clef. A 'B', followed by 'A, D, W, O, L, F'. This made Jeremy giggle, as manly as a person could while wearing pajamas, having a blanket around him, and hugging his best friend. A smiley face. The triforce symbol from Legend of Zelda. Another circle with a line running diagonally through it. An 'M'. Another heart.

"MICHAEL!" Ina yelled from outside. Jeremy flinched. "JEREMY! HUWAG MO AKONG I-DRAG SA INYO MULA SA SOPA, MGA LALAKI!"

What Ina said was, " Don't make me drag you off the damn couch, boys! " Unfortunately, Jeremy is fluent in only three not-so-important languages: idiot-ese, gamer, and English. So he didn't know what the hell Ina was saying. Luckily Michael knew and was now trying to nudge him with his shoulder so he thinks he has an idea of what she wanted them to do.

He reluctantly got off his best friend and pouted. Jeremy stood in front of the couch as he waited for Michael to grab their bowls. Michael frowned for a moment when he saw the food in Jeremy’s bowl but stopped as soon as he realized he was being watched. The bowls clinked as Michael stacked them, Jeremy’s bowl taking its place on top of Michael's.

Michael smiled at his pouting friend and walked away from him with their dishes in hand. Jeremy crossed his arms and followed him to the kitchen, not wanting to be left alone to stand in the middle of the room like an idiot. If he wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking and accidentally stabbed himself with the corner of the breakfast bar then no one needed to know.

Michael had taken a little time to finish the food that Jeremy had left, before setting the dishes in the sink. Jeremy- still pouting and acting like an angry child because he was still tired -watched as Michael washed the dishes and whistled. He repressed a flinch when the tune became a little too familiar. He wouldn't be able to tell you where he heard it or what it was called because he couldn’t remember it very well. But he associated it with his mom and those types of things were generally not good.

"Aw, Bes ," Michael said after he was done, reaching out and ruffling Jeremy's hair. "Don't look so sad. We'll cuddle later. I promise."

"Fine," Jeremy mumbled. Michael held out his arms, silently asking him to hug him and forgive him. Damn it. Jeremy can't be mad at the Filipino for listening to his mom. That's not fair to Michael and Jeremy kind of felt more guilty every nanosecond he stayed away from his best friend’s safe arms. He sighed and uncrossed his arms, giving in.

Barely five seconds into the hug, he can hear one of the moms honking loudly. Welp. Can't stall this any longer. Allonsy, as the tenth doctor would say.

Chapter Text

"Jeeeeerrrrrr coooooome ooooooon," Michael whined. "Pwease? For your fav-wit pewson?" The teenager stuck out his bottom lip and gave Jeremy the biggest eyes he had ever seen. "Please? It's just one tinsy-weensy playlist? I already know what you listen to anyway." Nanay chuckled from her front passenger seat as she played a connect the dots game. Ina tried hiding her smile as she drove.

Gah, why was Jeremy so weak when Michael made that face?

Jeremy sighed. "Fine. But only if you don't force me to listen to shit I can't understand. I don't want to end up listening to a drug cartel leader's kid tell their dad that they're too old to be running things and that they should be the one in charge." Jeremy shifted his body towards his best friend from his seat behind Nanay. The schoolbag on his lap weighed him down as he moved.

Michael stared at him. "Why the fuck was that so specific?"

Jeremy shrugged. “I listen to some songs in Spanish.” Michael continued to stare at him. It was funny to watch Micha be so speechless. Kind of like seeing a husky stare in confusion. “Anyway, so is there, like, a genre of music or…” He gestured vaguely with his hands. Michael was still struck silent.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Michael held out a finger. It was the universal sign for stop whatever the fuck you were doing. “Hold on. Give me five seconds to process this. You, the non-bilingual and whitest person I know, listened to a song. In Spanish. Like, a whole ass other language. And it didn’t have anything to do with musicals and sadness. You . Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

Jeremy laughed. He had been curious, okay? Just because he chooses to listen to certain types of music doesn't mean he isn’t willing to listen to other music types. Sometimes you just need to branch out. You know, do something that you would normally never do in order to grow your confidence and learn more about yourself and the things you like.

“ Anak , which street do I take?” Ina asked, glancing at the head view mirror to see Jeremy. “I’m sorry, it’s been a while since we've gone to your house. The last time was your birthday, right?” Jeremy fiddled with the bottom of his shirt, stretching out the fabric ever so slightly. Ugh, he’s going to be so annoyed about it later.

“Yeah, I think it was. Um, after this light go forward two more lights and turn right. Then just take the next left into the cul-de-sac. It’s the fourth house down on the right.” Ina nodded and followed Jeremy’s instructions.

The houses blurred in pretty reds and blues as she drove through the long streets. The song Follow Me, by Imagine Dragons played on the radio and Nanay sang along quietly. Michael handed the right earbud- courtesy of Jeremy lending his earbuds to his best friend so he could listen to his shit in peace -to Jeremy so they could listen to their own music. As much as they enjoyed upbeat songs, sometimes they were just not it.

Michael clicked on the song Look Who’s Inside Again by Bo Burnham and mouthed the lyrics as he turned and stared out the window. Jeremy raised his eyebrow at Michael’s song of choice but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to upset his friend before having to spend the next few days with basically only him as company.

Before the song ended, Michael poked Jeremy in the arm. Jeremy, who had his eyes closed and was leaning against the car door, startled in surprise. Michael held out his phone for Jeremy to take. The taller teen took it wordlessly and immediately began to wonder what song they should listen to.

Based on the song Michael chose, it can’t be a happy and cheerful song. Maybe the playlist’s theme was going to be sad and depressing? Or just plain relatable? Or all of the above? What the hell does Michael want from him? Does he want the broken parts of Jeremy or what he shows when he tries to be normal? What the fuck is he supposed to pick?

Jeremy added Trying Too Hard by Thomas Sanders to the playlist.

He handed the phone back to Michael. Michael’s eyes widened in recognition but like Jeremy, he didn't say anything about it. After that song, Michael added I Scare Myself by Beth Crowley. Jeremy added The Anonymous Ones from the Dear Evan Hansen Soundtrack because he can’t help but add some sort of musical song. Michael added Devils Don’t Fly by Natalia Kills. They get one minute into it before they’re pulling up to the driveway of Jeremy’s house.

The car goes silent as Ina parked right next to Dad’s car. Michael paused the song and Jeremy gave his earbud to Michael. They waited a few seconds before getting out of the car, giving Jeremy some time to process. He took a deep breath before taking the corner of his lip between his teeth. Michael put the devices in his hoodie’s large front pocket.

The Mells let Jeremy lead the way to the front door. Jeremy fumbled with his keys while they waited for him to open the door. Michael stood the closest to him, in case Jeremy needed moral support or something as equally stupid as that. Which he gets but goddamn it, he’s fine . He doesn’t need help going into his own home.

“Hey, so,” Jeremy said right before opening the door. “Don’t- it’s messy. And, um. Don’t be surprised. And it might, uh, the smell might be a little much. I won’t be offended if you guys need to, like, take breaks from being inside. I know it can be, uh. Overwhelming, I guess.” Everyone nodded. He took a deep slow breath and opened the door.

The sight that greeted him was as bad as he thought it would be, to be honest. The smell wasn’t too horrible either. Sure, there were pizza boxes on the table along with a tiny mountain of chinese food take-out boxes, but it wasn't as bad as it could be. There was always something worse than the weirdly large amount of dust accumulating and the stacks of dishes around the living room.

“ Anak , why don’t we give you some… time?” Ina asked. Nanay raised an eyebrow at her wife. “It would go faster if we were ready in the car.” Jeremy shrugged. He understood that Ina felt uncomfortable in a house where the adult was not as present as he should be. And he also understood Ina wanting her wife to not be there. He would have done the same had Michael not forced him to let him in the house when things started going bad.

“Yeah, go ahead," Jeremy answered. Michael walked away from them, probably going to Jeremy’s room. Shit . Jeremy doesn’t know if it’s clean. Michael hummed tunelessly as he disappeared into the hallway. “Me and Michael will take only a couple of minutes.” The two women gave him a hug before going back out to the car.

Right. Okay, now all he needs to do is 1. make sure Michael doesn’t fucking kill himself by tripping over things and 2. make sure Dad is still alive. Maybe 3, which is to clean up the house as much as he can in five minutes. Which won't happen. Jeremy knows that he’s a slow cleaner who gets distracted by what he finds while cleaning.

Yay. This is gonna be so much fun. (Note the sarcasm from the complete dread of doing what he needs to.)

Chapter Text

Jeremy first checked on Dad because he trusted Michael enough to not get himself hurt. The guy has been his friend for almost their entire lives; he’s sure Michael knew his way around after visiting and halfway living in the Heere household for literal years. Michael could find his way around if he was high and practically blind; trust him, they’ve tested this theory.

Dad was in his room laying on the bed, doing literally nothing. Clothes were piled up on the group and the bed. Food wrappers were scattered throughout the room. Jeremy scrunched up his nose at the smell. It was worse than the rest of the house. Dad must have not left the room in a couple of days.

“Ugh,” Jeremy said as he struggled to get the door opened more than an inch. “Dad, are you still alive? Me and Micha are going on a trip for a couple of days so… I wanted to make sure you’d be okay.” He drummed his fingers on the metal door handle and kicked a shirt away from his old well-worn black sneakers. Jeremy took the side of his lip and chewed on it.

“Huh?” came the reply from Dad.

“It’s Jeremy. I’m gonna, um…” He focused on his breathing for a couple of seconds. God, why was this so hard? “Me and M-" he almost choked on the word "-Michael’s family are going somewhere for a couple of days. I, um, got some- some food earlier so that’s in, uh, the um. The refrigerator.” Jeremy looked away from his father. It was way too weird to watch his so-called parent do nothing when his son is talking to him.

“Okay.” What? Aca-fucking-scuse him? What the fuck? That’s it, that’s the reply? A simple, “Okay,” as if it made everything alright? As if he didn’t care that his son- the kid he fucking tried raising -was leaving and going to an entirely different fucking country. Not to mention it would be his first time on a plane and going outside the United States. What the actual fuck.

“Okay,” Jeremy snapped, feeling water well up in his eyes. He stopped himself before tearing Dad a new one. Michael would try stopping him. Plus, if Jeremy gets in a one-sided fight with his dad then later he’ll feel guilty. And Michael would have to be the one to talk him down from the emotional outburst that would probably happen. Jeremy didn’t want that so it was better to just leave it. He didn't want to get too pissed about it and make everything unpleasant for his real and caring family.

He felt satisfied when he slammed the door shut. His footsteps didn’t echo like they normally would on the wooden ground. Jeremy walked down the small hallway to his bedroom, looking for his Player One. He wanted to calm down and nothing was more comforting than being in the arms of his life-long best friend.

He found Michael in his room, sitting on the bed amongst the mess. There were clothes all over the place, similar to his dad’s room but less extreme. Unfinished homework assignments and classwork littered the floor along with the empty cases of several video games. There were also unread and torn-up books that Jeremy had received as gifts from his mother when he was young. Huh. He forgot he did that before he went over to Michael's house.

“It’s been that hard, huh?” Michael murmured. Jeremy carefully made his way to his best friend and sat down next to him. He rested his head on Michael’s shoulder and Michael went to hold hands with him. Jeremy compiled as he used the palm of his hand to rub his eyes and stop himself from crying. “I’m sorry, ‘Miah. I didn’t know it was like this. I wish I could have done something to help.”

“Dude, you’ve literally let me stay at your place for weeks,” Jeremy muttered. Michael laid his head on Jeremy’s and sighed. “It’s fine. You’ve done enough for me. I’m just glad you’re here.” Michael pursed his lips. “Come on. Let’s go before I pull a JD and get the urge to blow up this entire fucking place.” Michael's chuckle was low, the noise coming from deep inside his throat.

They continued to hold hands as they kicked shit out of the way and got out of the dirty room. Jeremy ignored the photos hanging on the wall, things that were very old considering they told the story of a better time when his dad was present and Jeremy was too young to know what was happening to him.

Sometimes he wished he could go back to those days. Back then, everything felt okay and he didn't feel like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He wished that he could be innocent and carefree again, happy and satisfied with his life, just like Little Jeremy. Alas, here we are! First day of senior year! And uh… I look around at these kids that I’ve known all of my life and I ask myself- what happened? Freak! S-

Whoops, his brain started playing Heathers. Sorry, that’s his bad. Goddamn it, brain.

After realizing that the West End version of Heathers was now playing in his head, he has another realization. The car! He can see it! He's not inside anymore! What the fuck! They are now outside the house and Michael has his keys. His best friend locked the door and pocketed Jeremy’s keys. Nice, now he is going to have to ask for them back later. So he can, you know, have everything and not have a panic attack about not having all of his things with him. Cool, cool, cool. Fun times, huh?

Michael held his hand through the short walk back to the car. He let go with a frown that he obviously tried hiding if briefly covering his mouth was something to go by. Jeremy sat on the right side behind Nanay and Michael sat on the left side behind Ina. The car doors slammed in sync as they got into their respective seats.

As soon as their seatbelts were buckled, Michael took out his phone and Jeremy’s earbuds. He once again gave an earbud to Jeremy and played the song Anxiety by Anna Clendening. Jeremy recognized it because he showed Michael that song. He was the one that told Michael to listen to it because he asked what it was like in Jeremy’s brain and Jeremy couldn't find words adequate to describe it.

They continued their pattern of adding different songs to the playlist. Jeremy added What's Wrong With Me? from the Mean Girls musical. Michael smiled for a second and rested his head against the glass. Thank Jack for the long cords. When Jeremy handed back the phone, Michael added A Single Man Tear from the 200th episode of Supernatural. Fucking geek.

Jeremy added Grow As We Go by Ben Platt because they can both appreciate good music. This was when he let himself close his eyes and get lost in the music. Michael added deathbed (coffee for your head) by Powfu and beabadoobee. Jeremy added Inner Demons by Julie Brennan. Michael added Moongrains from the original Plants Vs. Zombies video game soundtrack. Jeremy added Suddenly Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors. Michael added Sad by Bo Burnham.

Jeremy was a little confused as he listened to the song because what the fuck? Michael is mumbling the words right along to it perfectly on time. And it's weirdly funny but? Also?? Kind of??? Depressing as hell????? Why does his best friend know every single word? Is he okay? What the hell?

Despite this, Jeremy laughed when the person said, "But I gotta remember there's good things about it too. Like the fact none of that's happening to me, score!" Michael laughed too. Jeremy saw Ina raise an eyebrow and say nothing about it. Which, you know, holy fuck is he glad she didn't. Jeremy didn't want to be the one to tell Nanay and Ina about the sad shit they find funny.

Jeremy added Loafers by BoyWithUke. The song marks the drive as a 32 minute long trip to the airport. Shit, he is so not ready for this.

Chapter Text

Before they got out of the car, Michael unplugged the earbuds and replaced them with the large white headphones he kept in his backpack. He absentmindedly tossed the earbuds to his best friend and Jeremy fumbled with them like the idiot he was. Not that Michael noticed. He was too focused on finding a calming playlist that would distract him from the large crowds he can see from their parking spot.

He zipped closed his backpack and put on his headphones. Welcome To The Internet by Bo Burnham started to play loudly. Ina got out of the car first, the door closing softly behind her. Nanay and Michael got out at the same time. Jeremy scrambled after them, quickly plugging the earbuds into his phone. Michael mentally wished good luck to Jeremy on his attempt to keep up with his family.

Today is going to be really fucking difficult. Michael is used to just blocking out the world and focusing on whatever is playing on his phone. But now that Jeremy is here, he needed to balance being on Best Friend Mode ™ AND his I'm-antisocial-so-please-get-the-everloving-fuck-away-from-me mood that he always gets at airports. These are two very different sides of Michael because they are literally opposites.

Nanay opened the trunk and started giving everyone's luggage to them. Which isn't much but fuck him if he wasn’t glad that he didn't have to help Ina and Nanay put the contents in yesterday, and that he didn't have to help take them out today. Even though the suitcases were small, they were heavy as hell.

Ina got out her and Nanay's luggage. They shared a small floral patterned suitcase, due to them having the same size and not caring if they wore the same outfit their wife wore the day before. Both of the women had their carry-on bags so they could have things aside from their phones to entertain them. Jeremy got his luggage. It was a small backpack with red, green, yellow, and blue video game controllers printed on it. He had that along with his regular backpack, which now had things to distract him instead of the textbooks he needed for school.

And, finally, Michael got his sick-ass luggage. A small white luggage case with the Apocalypse of the Damned logo smacked right on the front. It accompanied his school bag which had the same logo patched on… somewhere. He forgot where Jeremy put it. But that’s beside the point. The point is that it’s fucking awesome. God, he loves that thing. He'd murder someone if they tried taking it away from him.

Nanay led the way out of the parking lot, having had way too many experiences with the airport. Michael doesn't understand how his Nanay could visit a place so loud and overcrowded. Maybe she got used to it after working there for a couple of months. Or maybe her parents dragged her to a lot of places when she was young. He wouldn't know; Nanay doesn't talk about her parents much and from what he understood, her childhood was relatively normal for the most part.

Michael stayed close to Jeremy as they walked. The song Three Little Birds by Bob Marley started to play. At some point before walking in, they moved to hold hands. It was comforting to know his Player Two would be there next to him and help him through this purgatory on earth. He was glad that he wouldn't have to go through this alone because holy fuck, did he mention how much he hated being around people that didn't know him and people who didn't like him? Because he does. Very much so.

Before he knew it, they had been walking through the airport past the mini stores and luggage pick-up areas. He squeezed Jeremy’s hand tightly and not once did he think of letting go. Jeremy didn’t seem to mind so Michael didn't stop. Not that he would want to. He would rather touch his best friend of many years than random strangers at the airport, thank you very much.

They got their stuff checked and all that good shit. Jeremy awkwardly had Michael explain to one of the workers checking their bags that Jeremy is, in fact, not carrying drugs to get high or sell in other countries but instead is medication for his anxiety. Which was not something Michael thought he would ever have to do. He was pretty sure Jeremy could have just pulled out his doctor’s note or whatever to show them instead of making it a whole thing.

Eh. He didn't mind, anyway.

“They’re judging me,” Jeremy squeaked as they put their things back in their bags. Michael glanced at his friend. His face was turning red in embarrassment. Michael suppressed the urge to smile at the taller teenager and put his laptop away in the large pouch of his bag. “Dude, I don’t think I can show my face here again. I think I might have to stay in the Philippines for the rest of my life. Do you think your family would let me? Because that’s probably the only way I can, like, not die of embarrassment.”

Michael allowed himself a laugh at the stupidly absurd statement. “Jerm, don’t you think that’s a little bit of an overreaction?” Jeremy solemnly shook his head as he zipped up his backpack. In the corner of his eye, he saw Nanay and Ina whispering amongst themselves. They must be talking about what they’re expecting the family to be like when they get there.

“No.” Michael sighed and followed Disney’s probably-a-lesbian Queen Elsa’s advice. He let it go and put back on his giant headphones along with his backpack. A Very Sad Song by Bryant Olden started playing. This conversation wasn’t worth it if it meant he had to have his headphones off for a second longer. He liked talking to Jeremy, he really did. It's just the loudness of people that really fu- and there goes Michael trying to explain himself to no one. Yay, talking to yourself! So fun!

He saw Jeremy bite his fucking lip. Again. The guy’s just going to have a permanently bleeding mouth for the rest of his life, he swears.

"It'll be okay, bes ," Michael said as he took Jeremy's hand in his own, knowing the touch would help his best friend calm down. "They're not gonna care." The Chicken by Bo Burnham started to play and he tried not getting distracted by it. "They see hundreds of people every day. I doubt they're going to remember a single kid." It felt weird to speak without hearing himself but he’s done it enough times to be familiar with the action. You know, it's amazing how good this has made Michael at lip-syncing songs. He could probably perform live with this level of acting.

Jeremy shrugged and put on his backpack. He then put in an earbud and Michael marveled at the fact Jeremy did that shit with one hand. Welp. He did all that multi-tasking so… ugh, you know what? Michael’s not even going to think about that. He's just going to stop that train of thought because he refused to think of that side of Jeremy.

They continued on throughout the crowded airport. Michael held his breath every time someone got way too close to him. Which is to say, he held his breath basically the entire time. He can probably count on his fingers how many minutes he caught himself doing that and made himself take deep breaths. Sometime after Jeremy notices, he can feel his best friend’s thumb rubbing circles into his hand. He thanked whatever God was out there for the small but significant distraction. Thank fuck for Jeremiah Heere.

Chapter Text

Now, Jeremy isn't going to say that they're lost. Michael is leading the way and he seems to know where they are. He expertly takes them through the crowd, bobbing along to whatever song is blasting in his ears and avoiding any unnecessary contact as per usual. Jeremy kept reminding himself that it isn't any different than what they do in school. It's the same mechanics. It's just on a bigger scale.

Anyway, Jeremy lost sight of Nanay and Ina. Which was great, awesome, and fan-freaking-tastic! Wonderful! Jeremy has no fucking clue where they're going and no fucking idea what he’s listening to and now they're going to get lost and he's never going to be able to find his way home because he has no fucking idea where he is . Then he’ll be stuck eating the overpriced food at the mini stores that have lights brighter than fucking God and he'll probably have to get a job here to be able to buy food in the first place.

There goes the rest of his life because, obviously, he'll work overtime to pay for Michael’s food too. Shit, that meant Michael would also have to get a job so they can afford to buy way too expensive food. And that means no more video games or free time. Then Dad is going to die because the man can't fucking feed himself. This meant Jeremy is probably going to be arrested for, like, third-degree murder or something because he was supposed to be the one buying the food, and by not doing that, he basically killed his dad. Fuck , Dad is going to die and it'll be Jeremy’s fault and then Jeremy will have to go to jail for the rest of his life because what kind of monster lets their father die of hunger?

Jeremy didn't realize he was dangerously close to hyperventilating in the middle of the waiting lobby for passengers waiting to board the stupid flying tin can. He felt his chest constricting and it felt like his skin was crawling; the feeling wasn't as present as it would normally be so he was kind of confused. He really had no fucking clue what was happening to him. He also did not know:

1. When they found Michael’s mothers,

2. When Michael got so close to him,

3. When the fucking hell did they get here? He was pretty sure he and Michael were over by the bathrooms when he started to go into a… panic attack? Ugh, why does this always happen to him? Why can't he catch a break and get to breathe above the metaphorical water for a single fucking second? Oh right, because for some reason God hated him and apparently trying to go against him last week was a no-no.

Jeremy tried to focus on the hand he was holding, the song playing from his earbud (A Shitty Gay Song About You by Smoothboi Ezra), and the body that was pressed against his side. Michael was leaning heavily against him as he played the original Plants vs Zombies on his phone. The large white headphones were still on Michael- only one ear was covered so that they didn't dig into Jeremy’s shoulder or whatever -and he could faintly hear music playing from them over the noise of the people around them.

Michael groaned loudly as a zombie entered Dave's house and the game over screen appeared on his phone. The words THE ZOMBIES ATE YOUR BRAINS in big green letters covered the scene of the backyard with a pool in the middle two rows. Michael huffed and Jeremy resisted the urge to smile like an idiot at his best friend’s failure. Better gamer, his ass.

He did, however, laugh breathlessly and Michael shifted ever so slightly, surprised at the reaction from Jeremy. The Filipino's hold on his hand tightened as he restarted the level. Halfway through, Jeremy rested his head on Michael’s so he didn’t have to watch in a tiring position. This time, no Zombies went and ate Dave's brains. Michael won and excitedly squeezed Jeremy’s hand.

By this time, he closed his eyes, got his shit together, and calmed down. He focused on his Player One’s breathing and the way his chest rose and fell. The song In Case You Don’t Live Forever by Ben Platt played. Jeremy's mind started to wonder, moving from listening to the couple behind him talk about whether In-N-Out or McDonald's was better to what happened when they lost sight of Nanay and Ina. He knew it was kind of stupid to react the way he did but-

"Flight 221 is now boarding. Group A, please proceed to the plane." Fucking intercom interrupting his introspection AND music. Can't a guy chew himself out for, like, five fucking seconds? And who the hell would ever interrupt Ben fucking Platt’s amazing singing? Psychos, that’s who.

Michael took off his headphones and set them on his lap as he talked to his moms. Or more accurately, Michael rattled off questions and Ina and Nanay struggled to answer them quickly enough. It was kind of like watching Elle Woods interrogate someone. Jeremy followed his lead and put his earbuds in a random pocket. "Wait, what tickets do we have? Are there going to be free snacks or are we going to pay for them? You guys are going to be near us, right? I just wanted to double check and-"

Jeremy squeezed his hand, reminding him to take a breath and slow down. Michael took a deep breath. He tapped his fingers on his phone case, anxious. Jeremy was glad that he wasn’t the only one scared to go on the plane. He thought that maybe Michael would be fine with it because he has done it before. Turns out that wasn't the case. Jeremy just hopes that one of them will stay calmer than the other so then there isn’t two teenagers freaking the fuck out.

Jeremy turned his attention to Nanay, who was sitting in front of him and was next to her wife, as she spoke. "Don't worry, anak . Everything is the same as it's always been. Free snacks, me and Camila watching out for you, and Jeremy right by your side. Just like home, 'kay?" Michael nodded slowly, trying to accept what his mom was saying.

"You’re…" Michael hesitated. His eyes flickered to his best friend’s face and went back to his mother's. "Probably right. It'll be okay." His voice sounded pleading as he spoke. "Right, Jeremy? I'll be there with you. Two player game, am I right?" Michael bumped Jeremy with his shoulder, trying for a playful attitude. It clearly didn’t work.

Jeremy resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at his Player One. What the hell was he trying to do? Jeremy was left to ponder this for exactly three minutes before the intercom said, "Group B, please make your way to plane boarding."

Fuck .

Chapter Text

They stood up and started to grab their stuff. Jeremy let go of his best friend’s hand for a few seconds so he could put on his backpacks. Michael did the same and once they were done, they reached out to each other. Michael shot him a nervous smile as they grasped one another's hand. Michael used his free hand to pull his headphones on.

With a nod from Ina, the four walked to the check-in thingy. Jeremy has no fucking idea what it's called. Maybe it’s called a terminal? He's going to call it that for now since he can just make Michael look it up later.

They waited for the line to move. The crowd was scattered and it barely resembled a line, but they were all waiting for the workers to let them board. Jeremy chewed his lip and paid attention to his best friend tapping his foot. Michael also rubbed his thumb in a circle on Jeremy’s hand. Ina and Nanay talked to each other in low voices. He couldn’t make out what they were talking about so he chose to ignore them for the moment.

The place was louder than he expected. Of course, it was still the morning and everyone had enough energy to talk to their companions. That was unfortunate because that meant Michael would keep his headphones on so he could pretend the people around them weren’t being loud, and he wouldn't be able to hear Jeremy when he talks. Yay, this was so fun.

Jeremy sighed and adjusted their hands. Michael moved closer to him as a tall teenager with wild hair moved past them and joined a group of similarly dressed kids. His duffle bag read, Saint Cassian High Chamber Choir, and the reddish burgundy color matched the boy's uniform. Jeremy shuddered. Something about the guy gave off weird vibes and he's sure Michael sensed it too. Whatever, that's not their problem.

Michael squeezed his hand as the line moved forward. Jeremy didn’t mind; he was kind of scared too. Goddamn, this was his first time going anywhere. Idly, he wondered how this has never happened before. He vaguely remembered his dad used to travel outside of the USA for work but he doesn’t remember ever going with him. Maybe he stayed at home with Michael or… or.

Time passed slowly. Every couple of minutes, the crowd shuffled forward about three steps. It took way too long, in Jeremy’s opinion. And, as he overheard Ina’s and Nanay’s conversation, Nanay's opinion. Hearing that made him wonder about how many things they agree about. A lot of things, it seemed, and now that he thought about it, Jeremy has never argued with her on serious stuff. Huh.

Finally, fucking finally, they got to the front. Ina showed the people their tickets and Michael held his breath as the person behind them got way too close for comfort. After they checked that yes, these people can board the plane, they went through the tunnel leading them to the plane. The tension visibly left Michael as they left the large crowd of people and went into the slightly darker tunnel with significantly fewer people.

Ina led their small group, followed by her wife. Michael went before Jeremy because it was easier for him to get a window seat if he was walking in front of Jeremy. Jeremy knew there was no way in all of fucking hell his Player One would take a seat in the aisle so this is how he prevented that from happening.

They thanked the person welcoming them into the plane and found their seats. Nanay and Ina sat in seats 25A and 25B respectively. Nanay took the window seat after briefly arguing with her wife about who gets it while they put their luggage in the overhead compartment. Nanay won the argument with a smirk that mirrored Michael’s when he won a battle against Jeremy.

Ina shook her head at her wife in disbelief. Then she helped her kid and not-actually-her-son put their luggage in the space above Jeremy’s and Michael’s heads. Jeremy tried to not think about the fact the woman was way stronger than him. His ego is fragile, okay? It was able to take little hits but thinking too much about how he should be working out and eating healthy made him feel extremely disappointed in himself.

Michael slid into the row in front of his mothers and sat down in 24A, right next to the window. Jeremy sat in the middle seat, 24B, and prayed no one would sit next to him. But as much as Jeremy hated being around people he didn’t know and trust, he could deal with it for Michael’s sake. He knew whatever Jeremy felt about it, Michael would feel ten times worse if he was in Jeremy’s position. Jeremy simply felt uncomfortable and Michael… was different. As Michael explained it, the- Michael shuddered while saying this -involuntary touching and the noise would make his skin crawl and it would cause him to feel nauseous. So Jeremy dealt with the stupid middle seat. He’ll take on the world if it means saving his best friend from feeling that awful feeling.

Michael hummed nervously as they buckled their seatbelts. Jeremy recognized it as the Mario theme song. He smiled at the familiar tune and shoved his backpack under the seat in front of him so that he could get a little more leg space. They continued to hold hands, resting them on the armrest. Jeremy stared out the window, watching the people move large cargo on carts and taking in his last sights of New Jersey before going somewhere completely different.

In the corner of his eye, he saw that his best friend had his eyes screwed shut and took deep breaths. Michael must really hate airplanes.

In the other corner of his eye, a woman who looked a couple of years older sat next to him. She was a little attractive, if he was being honest, and she kind of matched Jeremy in a really weird way. The black-haired woman wore a white collared shirt with a blue skirt and matching jacket. She also wore thigh-high blue socks. She also seemed to be accompanied by someone across the aisle; this person was dressed similarly, except she had yellow instead of blue, and was blond.

They kind of looked familiar but Jeremy couldn’t place from where. Maybe they just had those faces that remind people of others. He chose to ignore them, mainly because oh no socializing with hot people?! Yeah, that wasn't ever going to happen. You couldn't pay Jeremy to talk to anyone who wasn’t a high-schooler's definition of a loser. That’s just asking to get his ass kicked.

Whatever. He can see the last of the people entering the plane. Jeremy sighed and Michael opened his eyes, tightening his grip on his best friend’s hand. Jeremy didn’t say anything about it because, really, it didn't bother him. The tightness was comforting and he liked that he had a way of knowing how Michael is feeling.

"Are we-" Michael trailed off, his soft brown eyes wide. Jeremy nodded. "Fuck, man. Sorry that I'm like this. Must be hard for you, huh?" He bumped his shoulder against Jeremy’s. Jeremy shot him a crooked smile in response and shook his head no. He would answer verbally but he knew Michael shouldn't take off his headphones if he doesn't feel safe. “Cool, cool. Let's go, I guess.”

He guessed. He guessed, goddamn it.

Chapter Text

Soon after the plane is filled- which took way too long, as it always did -someone gave the required speech about safety shit that Michael does not fucking care about. To be honest, he can't hear it and if he did, well, he didn't feel like hearing another person confirm that yes, being in a plane is highly dangerous and he may fucking die. He shut his eyes, held his Player Two's hand tightly the entire time, and made a note to apologize later. After they get on solid ground and are not at risk of falling out of the sky, that is.

But… but he felt the plane slowly starting to move as the song Peaches from the Mario movie played, and something came over him as he recalled Jeremy’s smile. Michael opened his eyes to watch the roller coaster of emotions on Jeremy’s face. It started with him leaning ever so slightly toward Michael, fiddling with his cardigan sleeve with his free hand, and biting his stupid chapped bottom lip, as per usual.

Michael made a mental note to buy him some fruit flavored chapstick once they land.

Fear crossed Jeremy's face and he was squeezing Michael’s hand just as tightly as Michael was. He closed his eyes, scared of the weird feeling of the plane leaving the ground. Michael can tell he's going over everything that could go wrong, having seen Jeremy stay up late at night past midnight reading about people's first times on airplanes and news stories about plane failures.

Then something amazing happened. They're going higher and higher and slowly but surely, Jeremy opened his eyes and relaxed into his seat. His wide eyes sparkled with something like awe and he stopped abusing his poor bottom lip. Though, as much as Jeremy seemed to be enjoying himself, he was still closer to Michael than the person in the aisle seat. But then again, that's just how they are.

Michael unknowingly relaxed as his best friend relaxed. It made him calmer now that he knew Jeremy wasn’t suffering from the anticipation anymore. Jeremy moved his free hand to grab Michael’s arm and Michael chuckled because it reminded him of earlier years when Jeremy was happy all the time. Jeremy doesn't speak but the action spoke for him. He was excited.

Michael’s heart swelled with an emotion he couldn't quite place. He chalked it up to being able to see his friend genuinely happy for the first time in weeks. When Jeremy looked back at him to see his reaction, Michael smiled at him because he was proud of Jeremy for not being afraid of being in the air. God knows how terrifying Michael’s first flight was and how scared he was back then.

The song changed to one he added a long time ago. King by Lauren Aquilina. Michael remembered this song very well despite it not being one that he would typically listen to. He recalled finding it and showing it to an emotionally vulnerable and slightly unstable Jeremiah whatever-the-fuck-his-middle-name-is Heere, telling him, “This is what I want you to know, bes. I love you.” He smiled sadly at the memory.

For the next few minutes, Michael switches between watching his Player Two’s face and focusing on the weight in his hand and on his arm. If this was anyone else, literally anyone, he would be having a huge-ass panic attack. But this was Jeremy and he was different because Michael found him to be quite comforting.

Alas, every moment cannot last forever. God is a bitchy five-year-old who loves causing mayhem among his shitty creations. The mood is ruined by Michael’s headphones playing the fucking Nyan Cat song. He snapped out of his… whatever it was and laughed at the absurdity of the change in songs. Jeremy looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Michael took out his phone to pause the music and he slid his headphones down to rest around his neck.

“Stupid Nyan Cat,” Michael said with no context. Jeremy snorted and moved his right hand away from his Player One’s arm. Michael guessed that he forgot it was there.

“Of all things, dude,” he responded. “Literally. All of-” The woman next to Jeremy moved and Jeremy flinched. “All of, um, the things in the world and you put that in your playlist?” He hummed. “Doesn’t that- doesn’t that hurt your head? Like, I know you’re probably, uh, probably used to it but that’s louder than other songs, right?”

Michael nodded and ignored Jeremy’s stuttering. “Yeah, sometimes it hurts like a bitch but…” He shrugged. “I kind of ignore it, you know?”

“Micha!” Jeremy said a little too loudly. He must have realized that because he winced at the volume. A man on the other side of the row threw them a dirty look and Michael slumped down in his seat. His Player Two, thankfully didn't notice. Jeremy lowered his voice and Michael struggled to listen. “That’s not- that’s not good. It’s, um, kind of something I would do so- so you probably shouldn’t.”

Michael pulled a confused face but Jeremy offered no explanation. He understood what he meant but goddamn, did Jerm really mean that? If so, what made Jeremy think that what he does is bad? Well, obviously ignoring the headache isn’t good but still. Jeremy phrased it like everything he does is a bad decision.

“Bes,” Michael said softly and Jeremy frowned.

“I don’t-” Jeremy paused, realizing how it sounded to the Filipino. “Sorry. I didn’t… fuck, can we ignore this conversation ever happened? It’s just going downhill the more I talk.” From behind them, Michael heard one of his moms snort. Jeremy laughed nervously and began to play with Michael's fingers. The former stared at their hands.

“Sure, buddy. Wanna talk about something else?” Jeremy shrugged with one shoulder. “Watched any good tv shows lately? Read any good books?” Jeremy laughed and Michael laughed with him. As if either of them would optionally read when video games existed. “Any musical recommendations?”

Oh, he’s going to regret asking but the look on Jer’s face is worth it.

“Ooh! Okay, so, there’s this one musical I found recently. It's not- like, it's known but not by a lot of people because it's new and not, uh- not very widespread, you know? It's about this kid who-" Jeremy continued to talk about it for the next six and a half minutes. He stumbled over his words and backtracked a lot. He said things then corrected it, and then added more information than necessary to make it make sense. Michael tried his best to keep up with the thing his best friend was rambling about. Holy crap, that was hard to do. But hey, if it made Jer happy…

Unfortunately, Michael now had a brand new musical seared into his brain for the rest of his life. Goddamn, he should start getting awards for this shit. It took skill to listen but hey. At least Jeremy was happy about it.

Chapter Text

Many, many… hold on, Jeremy needed to take a breath here to be able to mentally say everything… many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many conversations happened on the hours-long flight. So. Much. Fucking. Talking.

"-and then instead of getting the girl, he gets the guy," Jeremy said, finishing his ramble. "Freaking insane, right?"

Michael stared at him, his mouth open in surprise. Jeremy blushed as he realized he talked about that musical for a really long time. It's not his fault. Michael wanted him to keep talking and he kept nodding and gasping in all the right spots. And Jeremy had been waiting to be able to tell him about the ending because holy crap it was insane.

"How- what the fuck," Michael said. Jeremy laughed at his expression. He had reacted the same way when he watched it. "What- I totally didn't see that coming. What the fuck. That was actually a good plot twist."

Jeremy gestured with his free hand. He mimicked an explosion next to his head, being careful to not get close to the woman next to him. He didn’t want to hit her by accident because that would be a dick move and, come on, he isn't going to piss off the person stuck with him. Michael continued blinking and staring at him. He was truly at a loss for words, it seemed. "I know, right?"

"I- what the fuck," Michael repeated.

"I know!"

"What the fuck!"

"I know!"

"What. The. Fuck!"

"I know!" Jeremy can practically feel the mom with a six-year-old child glaring at him and Michael from two rows away. He stopped the conversation by quietly telling his friend, “Hey, um, the mom two- two rows behind us is, uh, she’s kind of staring.” Michael nodded and mimicked zipping his mouth closed. Jeremy felt guilty about telling Michael.

After Jeremy stopped feeling bad about that lady and Michael, they talked more because while they are airborne and now can use their devices, Jeremy would much rather talk to his Player One. By this time, he has learned that there are no chargers for his laptop and this flight will take around seven hours. He was not aware that they were making a pitstop in Spain. 

He figured Ina and Nanay knew they would not be able to be in a plane for sixteen fucking hours, the amount of time Jeremy read the flight would take if they went straight to Michael’s family. Honestly, he just loved that they knew them so well. At the same time, though, he hated that they were right.

“Micha,” Jeremy whined an hour after their initial conversation. He had loosened his seatbelt and moved the armrest up- not without noticing the amused snort from his female neighbor -so that he could rest against Michael’s shoulder. Michael was watching a movie with his headphones on, balancing Jeremy’s (slowly dying) laptop on the food tray. He also had a comforting arm around Jeremy’s shoulders.

“Yes?” Michael asked, glancing at his Player Two with a ghost of a smile. He let the movie continue playing. Jeremy thought he could hear the sound from his friend’s headphones but he wasn't sure. He can see someone else watching the same movie as Michael. Anyway, he tried to ignore the sound and focus on the conversation.

“I’m tired.”

Michael laughed. It’s not a laugh like his Jeremy-what-the-hell-you’re-so-stupid one that he does whenever Jeremy says or does something dumb. Nor is it like his laugh when he’s high as a kite and will laugh at anything. It’s more fond than anything, really. It sounded like he cared about Jeremy and was happy to deal with him when he was like this.

“Yeah?” Jeremy nodded. His tired mind wondered why Michael needed to confirm that. He didn’t realize that it was just a natural thing for Michael to do. “Why don’t you take a nap, bud? You sound like you need it.”

“Nooo.” Jeremy didn’t bother acknowledging the fact he sounded like a whiny little kid. Whatever. Michael has dealt with enough of Sleepy Jeremy that he was probably used to it. But Jeremy, at the moment, didn’t know that and yet currently he did not care. “Then I’ll- I won’t-” Jeremy huffed, not able to find a counter. "You won't be there."

"Bes…" Jeremy looked at his best friend and pouted. "I won't leave you. I promise you that I'll be here the entire time. Okay?" Jeremy mumbled something that not even he knew what he said. Michael picked up on the tone; Jeremy was impressed that he was able to do that. "I pinky-promise, Jer." He hooked his pinky around Jeremy’s. "Isinusumpa ko ang aking kaluluwa, ang aking puso, at ang lahat ng aking pinanghahawakan."

Jeremy, although curious, yawned as he spoke. He didn't pick up on the light blush dusting over Michael’s cheeks. "What does that mean?"

"It means, I swear on my soul, my heart, and everything I hold dear. My lola taught me that I can only say that when I absolutely mean it. I'm not allowed to use it when it's for a promise that I'll break." Jeremy hummed at the newfound information. "Now will you try sleeping? It's a long flight and I doubt you want to be conscious the entire time."

Jokes on Michael, Jeremy started to fall asleep the second he finished explaining what those words meant. He scooted as close as he could to the warmth- Michael, it was always Michael -and sighed. It felt good compared to the cold airplane air and the weight made him feel… safe. Like while he was here, nothing could hurt him. It was a nice feeling.

When he woke up, they were still in the same position as before. Michael had put away the laptop and the tray thingy now had snacks- a bag of small pretzels, a can of pringles, and two water bottles. Michael was now playing on the Color by Number app he downloaded while high a while ago. Jeremy focused on their breathing, the steady rise and fall of Michael’s chest. He hummed to let his Player One know he was awake.

"Hey, Jerm," Michael said in a hush tone, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Welcome back to the land of the living. Aka the twentieth century. My moms are still strong women, I'm still awesome as per usual, my rights are slowly being taken away, and everything has gone to shit because the boomers keep fucking stuff up." Jeremy laughed and almost cried because why was that so true?

"So basically the same?" Jeremy mumbled, feeling more energetic as he slowly woke up.

"Yeah. I got some snacks if you want any. The other water is for you." Jeremy frowned and his stomach churned at the thought of food. He appreciated the attempt but he just can’t. Maybe he’ll steal a pringle or two from Michael- and the water is drinkable, definitely -but a full bag of snacks? Yeah, dude. That’s not happening now or ever. Good try, though.

“Thanks, Micha.”

The conversation continued on from there as Michael asked how his nap was. It strayed to various topics when Jeremy could think and respond like a normal fucking person. They talked about movies they had watched recently- as if they didn't watch them together -and music they listened to. They played a game on Michael’s phone and talked about that. Michael stopped Jeremy from having a panic attack when he started to think about how Dad was doing. They plotted their next moves in level twelve of Apocalypse of the Damned. They debated whether or not they could find vintage sodas in Spain and Michael texted his supplier to ask.

The supplier said yes, and gave Michael the phone number to someone who was, in fact, selling vintage soda out of the backdoor of Spencer's. It made Jeremy wonder if those people are like Nurse Joy and Officer Jenny, except with expired soft drinks. That's a funny yet kind of scary thought.

Chapter Text

Soon after Jeremy fell asleep again- goddamn, he was sleepy today -Michael hummed quietly. It was a song he used to know how to play back in his orchestra days in elementary school, back when he was third chair cello. It was called Zombie Dance by Michael Story and he and Jeremy always found the song to be fucking awesome because it wasn't like other songs Michael had played previously.

Jeremy liked it a lot and used to ask Michael to play it for him despite it sounding weird and kind of bland without the full orchestra to join him. Though, Michael was pretty sure that was the only reason he got so good at the song and why that was the only time he got to be the first chair. He got very good at knowing how the fuck he was supposed to sound and- when he played with someone else -recognizing where the other instruments were supposed to be during his parts.

"That's Zombie Dance, right?" Michael’s head shot to the side and he was careful not to hit Jeremy. He furrowed his eyebrows, not processing that someone was talking to him. The woman continued, explaining why the hell she was talking to him. "My boyfriend is really into Halloween and plays this song every year. So I kind of have it haunting me."

She laughed. Fueled by nerves, he laughed along with her.

"Y-yeah,” he stammered. When the hell did he start doing that? That was Jeremy’s thing. Oh right, he started when strangers started to think talking to him was a good idea. “My friend- he, um, liked it so I learned to play it really well." Fuck, why did he have to say that? She didn't need to know about the wonders of his embarrassing childhood and its fucked up moments. 

"That's cool," the woman said. "Do you still play?"

"No, I stopped after, uh, fifth grade." He did not add that he stopped because, around that time, kids in his grade began to be cruel and bullied him and Jeremy. Michael didn’t like thinking about that crap because in his mind it represented the beginning of an era where he and Jeremy were huge fucking losers. Fucking elementary school ruining his interests and hobbies.

Michael moved his arm slightly so that it wouldn't go numb. Jeremy's finger twitched and he tried to move to curl in Michael's side. He would be lying if he didn't find that in the least bit adorable. It was cute- and concerning at times but mainly cute -how Jeremy always seemed to cling to Michael in his sleep. Even if it was because of nightmares.

Michael used his free hand to loosen Jeremy’s seatbelt. Which, okay, he probably shouldn't have done that. He didn’t want Jeremy to be scared when he woke up. But Michael would rather not have his best friend lose the feeling of the entire lower half of his body. That would be a big no-no because, you know, that would make Jeremy freak out big time and so far his Player Two has done well with not panicking.

Michael felt his phone vibrate in his hoodie pocket. He struggled to pull it out but ultimately was able to. There was a little red two on the WhatsApp app that he honestly doesn't remember downloading. He clicked on it and saw that there were two messages from Nanay. He tried to remember who the fuck let her get that app and gave her Michael’s contact.

Nanay: how is he?

Nanay: bc it's his first time right?

Michael: yes, and so far, he's good

Michael: and is currently asleep

Nanay: fucking lucky

Michael snorted at the message and forced his phone back into his pocket, thinking that his mom was done talking to him. Jeremy tried to move closer and Michael decide, fuck it. He unbuckled his and Jeremy’s seatbelts. Why, you may be wondering? Well, the light thing that told him to wear a seatbelt turned off at some point earlier and they didn't notice it. Until now, that is. It only took, like, an hour or two for them to see it and even then, only Michael saw it.

His phone vibrated again and with a silent groan, he pulled it out. He watched the little red one on WhatsApp go up to three.

Nanay: 2 be clear, he hasn't flipped out, right???

Nanay: bc that would be very unfortunate

Nanay: and kind of sad, tbh

Michael: true true

Michael: he only freaked out when he started thinking about his dad

Michael: 4 the most part he slept lol

Michael: but yeah, no problems here

Nanay: and u've been okay?

Michael: …

Michael: Jeremy has definitely helped me lol

Nanay: Michael Nicholas Mell-Salazar u better not be using jokes to avoid answering

Michael's eyes widened. Shit, she used his full name. Like, including both of his last names. Damn it. He can't lie without getting in huge trouble. Holy fucking shit, he was utterly screwed if he tried to get out of answering that stupid question. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did this mean he had to lie? That seemed like the only reasonable course; like hell he's going to share his feelings with anyone.

But his mothers had a secret superpower that let them know whenever he was lying- even over text -so did he really want to risk it? Probably not. He decided that no, he would rather not be murdered over something like this. He didn't want to face the wrath of POC mothers and he chose to live another day, thank you very much.

Michael: sry

Michael: i haven't been 2 good but seriously, jer helps a lot. i don't think it's possible 4 me 2 not relax around him

Michael loudly exhaled through his nose. Jeremy unconsciously bristled at the feeling of it moving his hair. Michael made a noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. Kind of like a snort but more dignified, you know? Just like Michael… okay, yeah, that was a complete fucking lie. He knew even when telling the joke to himself that it wasn't true.

Nanay: thx 4 not lying

Nanay: and i am glad that u have him :)

Nanay: now in what way u  him, idk

Michael blushed at the implication and glanced at a sleeping Jeremiah Heere. He was so fucking glad his Player Two wasn't awake. He knew that if Jeremy was conscious, he would be asking who the hell got Michael to be flustered. He also knew that he wouldn't be to not die of embarrassment if he told Jeremy what his mom said about their relationship.

Michael: wtf nanay

Nanay: ;)

Michael sent back the middle finger emoji. He shoved his phone in his large front hoodie pocket and decided to ignore any messages that may come his way. He didn't want to deal with that bullshit. Least of all, any crap that involved one best friend Jeremy. But to be nice, he peeked at the message preview.

Nanay: well that wasn't very nice

Chapter Text

Jeremy was asleep- again- when he heard some… questionable things. Mainly because he didn't think Michael was capable of doing it, despite his outgoing personality. But, hey, it's been… five hours? Five whole hours that they have been stuck here. And then another twenty-something hours before they get on the next plane since they are going to meet the shady Spencer's employee.

Anyway, back to what he said. He's off track now but his point still stands. As he snuggled in his friend's side, he heard a conversation between Michael and what he assumed was the woman next to him. Which he was confused about but let go because he was in a dream saving the world and, obviously, Michael wasn't actually talking to her. Was he?

This is what he heard while lightly sleeping:

"You two are cute together," the unnamed woman said. In the dream, she was behind Michael, who was behind Jeremy. They were walking through a forest and Jeremy wondered how the fuck she was talking without moving her mouth. "How long have you been dating?"

"Uh, um- dating?" Michael stammered. Jeremy started to forget the dream or maybe he started to wake up. He wasn’t sure since it was only a small change. "If we've been- for- like, officially or whatever?" There was a pause where the woman would have said something or maybe she nodded her head. But he digressed; it was a mystery what happened in the short silence. "Ah, I get it, uh, now. I think it's been, like…" Jeremy interrupted by- unknowingly -trying to move closer to Michael. Unfortunately, he was already as close as can be.

Michael nervously laughed.

"Kid, you don't have to tell me. I was just wondering since you two seem so close."

"It's fine." Michael waited a few seconds. "Me and him, we, um, we just- we go way back, you know? I'm all he has and it's… it would be weird if we weren't, like, close after everything that's happened." Jeremy felt the dream slowly slipping away from him, drifting into that place between consciousness and sleep. The woman hummed and Jeremy was unable to tell you if it was real. He wasn't sure anything was actually happening because, dude, come on. It's just a dream.

…right?

"Yeah, I get that." A pause. "I'm Veronica, by the way."

"Uh, Michael I am. I mean- shit." Veronica- if that is her real name -laughed. "My name is, uh, Michael." There was an awkward moment where everything was quiet and, of course, Michael started talking. "Do you by chance know any Heathers or JDs? Because, um, my friend is, like, a huge theater geek and he would absolutely freak if you, uh, knew anyone with those names."

"Now that I think about it, yes. My boyfriend’s name is JD and my boss' first name is Heather." He heard Michael gasp, excited on Jeremy’s behalf.

"Holy shit! That's amazing!"

"I'm guessing your friend is a fan of Heathers?" Jeremy felt Michael move and it shook him closer to being awake. It took him a couple of seconds to realize what she said and, well, he couldn’t miss out on an opportunity to fangirl about something. Even if it was with a stranger who could think he was annoying and ugly and loud and utterly pathetic and useless and horrible and-

Fuck, the thoughts just kept coming and coming.

"Are you talking 'bout Heathers with a stranger, Micha?" Jeremy mumbled before he could stop himself. He felt fingers go to his hair. Michael started combing his hair with his hand. He lightly moaned at the fucking heavenly touch and urgh it felt good. He forced himself to keep his eyes closed, both so he didn't have to interact with the lady next to him and so he didn't have to feel light burning his eyeballs while he felt this amazing thing.

Immediately, Michael abandoned the conversation with the lady. Jeremy felt bad about that but he was too tired to think about it when Michael was talking to him. "I am. Did I wake you up?" Jeremy shrugged. He had been starting to wake up, anyway. Michael just helped the process go a little faster. "I'm sorry, bes."

"It's okay," Jeremy slurred. "Heather McNamara deserved better." Michael hummed.

"Amen to that," Veronica said.

It was quiet after that short conversation. Jeremy once again felt guilty about it- as much as he could while sleepy. Michael was talking to a stranger! A completely different and new human being! Someone he didn't fucking know! And Jeremy had to ruin that, of course. Of course, he ruined something he was proud of his best friend for doing. God, Jeremy ruined everything-

Nope! Fuck that shit, he isn't going to think about that. That would be giving in to his inner demons. Jeremy did not want to do that because then he would disappoint himself and everyone around him. Which was only Michael but still. He didn't feel like being a burden today, and he will work to not be one.

"Hey," Michael whispered. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“What’d you want?" Jeremy mumbled against his Player One.

"Huh, he actually responded to that,” Michael said quietly, talking to himself. He spoke louder, this time talking to Jeremy. “Wanna listen to some music?"

Jeremy considered the idea. He did want to. It's just… did he want to? Or did he want to continue staying close to Michael by pretending to be half asleep? The second option was really tempting. He kind of wanted to tell Michael, "No thank you,” and then go back to cuddling him. Maybe he would get crazy and go back to sleep. Then again, he was dumb so he said, "Sure. As long as I can stay right here."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "No homo, right?" Jeremy could tell that the Filipino was fighting a smile. The corners of his lip twitched and Jeremy wondered who would win The Face Battle™. Michael’s instincts and natural reaction to funny shit or his commitment to his poker face? Who will win? In the end, Jeremy giggled and Michael ended up with a smile on his face.

Chapter Text

“Hey, dude,” Michael said after losing his small battle, “can you get your earbuds?” Jeremy groaned but leaned forward. He struggled with pulling his backpack from under the seat in front of him. He cursed quietly when he checked a side pocket and didn’t find them. He looked in one of the main pockets- the one in the front -and found them.

Before Jeremy handed the earbuds to his best friend, Michael unplugged his headphones, took them off his head, and turned off the laptop. He pulled Jeremy’s backpack closer to him and slipped the laptop inside. They put on their respective earbuds- Michael taking the left one and Jeremy taking the right one -and Michael plugged it into his phone.

Okay, but seriously. How was Michael’s phone not anywhere close to dying? Jeremy’s phone is at, like, twenty percent right now. And he's barely used it today. What the hell?

Michael seemed to decide to bring back their collaborative playlist as he handed the phone to Jeremy. Which totally didn’t make him nervous. Of course, Jeremy would feel any sort of fear from picking what song to listen to and jesus, he can’t think of a single song he’s ever heard in his life right now. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck-

Jeremy’s grip on the phone was tight, despite his now grossly sweaty hands. Ew. Michael managed to pry the phone away when he saw the expression on Jeremy’s face, thank fuck. He picked a random song in his ‘listen to later” playlist. It was Wine, Beer, Whiskey by Little Big Town. Jeremy tried to focus on it but that was a bad idea. Like, a really horrendous fucking idea. He flinched violently.

“Micha,” Jeremy mumbled, ignoring the concerned look from Veronica. “Change- change the song. I- it’s-” He flinched again at the mention of a particular type of alcohol. “Regina. Dad said- he said she- when I-” Jeremy closed his eyes. He could feel his heart racing and the need to get out, get out, get out, he had to get away-

The song changed to All I Ask of You from the original cast recording of Phantom of the Opera. He felt an arm go around him and he knew immediately it was his best friend who was pulling him into his side. Jeremy turned, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling, and threw his arms around him. He felt a little better because, I mean, Michael makes everything better.

Jeremy tried telling himself that he was safe. He had to be since Michael was there. Michael's arms were a safe place to be and they weren't- Michael wasn't trying to keep him from running away just like his instincts told him. Michael was trying to comfort him and calm him down. Jeremy. Was. Safe. Regina was long gone and she can't do anything to him anymore.

"You’re okay, Miah," Michael whispered into his hair, confirming what Jeremy was trying to convince himself. "You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you, mahal. You're okay." Michael continued to repeat those words in the same hush tone for the next few minutes, careful to not speak too loud so that he didn't make Jeremy feel even more in danger.

Michael switched languages a few seconds before the song I Am Here For You from Book of Mormon started playing. He spoke in the same tone but Jeremy didn’t know what he was saying. "Hindi ko na hahayaang saktan ka niya ulit. Ligtas ka sa piling ko. Poprotektahan kita sa abot ng aking makakaya. Wala nang gagawa muli sa ginawa niya sa iyo. Isinusumpa ko sa buhay ko, iingatan kita. Sisiguraduhin kong hindi mo na mararamdaman muli ang pinaramdam niya sayo. Mahal kita at pinapangako kong ligtas ka basta kasama kita. Magiging okay din ang lahat dahil, narito ako para protektahan ka. Ikaw ay, giliw ko."

I will not let her hurt you ever again, Jeremy couldn’t translate. You are safe with me. I will protect you as best as I can. No one will ever do what she did to you again. I swear on my life, I will keep you safe. I will make sure you never have to feel the way she made you feel again. I love you and I promise you are safe as long as you are with me. Everything is going to be okay because, well, I am here to protect you. You are safe, my love.

Even though Jeremy had no clue what his best friend was saying- aside from understanding the words “love” and “I swear” -he was able to calm down by listening. There was something about the way the words sounded that made him feel safer. Maybe because Michael didn’t often speak Tagalog with anyone aside from his family and now trusted Jeremy enough to talk to him in the language. Which, he’ll admit, was kind of cheesy. But hey, he knew Michael would agree with the sentiment. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

…

Nope, that was super fucking cheesy. He takes it back. Backspace, backspace, backspace. Erase it or delete it; anything to make it go away so he can pretend he never thought that sentimental shit. Just delete the web history and destroy the small place that holds his memory. On second thought, destroy the entire thing. It's better to be safe than sorry.

"I'm sorry," Jeremy mumbled.

"No, Jer," Michael said. "This is on me. It didn't mean to, ah, trigger you. I should have known it would make you think of… her. I'm sorry." Jeremy opened his mouth to counter that because he knew it wasn’t Michael’s fault. It was Jeremy’s; he was the one that never actually talked about his triggers and what he actually does remember. It wasn’t Michael’s fault that he didn’t know. He was just trying his best and if Jeremy knew Michael, he knew the other teen was scared shitless.

He pulled back a little to look his best friend in the face. “But you-” Michael silenced him with a look. He clearly didn’t want Jeremy to start Jeremy-ing this situation into a worse place. Jeremy sighed. “Can we just… can we..” Fuck. What was this so hard to ask? It’s just ten stupid words. “Can we listen to my calm-the-hell-down playlist?”

“Yeah, of course we can.” Jeremy smiled. He settled back into the fabric of Michael’s warm hoodie- a large contrast to the fucking freezing plane -as the filipino scrolled through all the different playlists. After a couple of seconds, he found it. The song Birch Tree by Strawberry Guy played and Jeremy sighed. He was strangely calm at the moment. He hoped it wouldn’t be fucked up.

Chapter Text

"Please put your belongings away as the plane is now starting to descend," the lady said over the airplane speakers. Jeremy frowned. That meant he would have to move away from Michael and, honestly, he was way too lazy for that. Michael’s arms were so fucking warm and he loved it. Also, you know, he was kind of stiff. So that made it hard to move.

"Jer-bear," Michael said into his hair. "I can feel you frowning but, like-" Jeremy groaned and Veronica snorted as she scrolled through whatever app on her phone. "Dude. Come on, you gotta at least help me stuff the snacks in your backpack." Jeremy didn’t move because fuck moving. "When we get there, I won't let you take any of my Lola's flans if you don't help me, Jeremiah."

"Shit, no, please!" Jeremy quickly detached himself and pulled his backpack from under the seat in front of him. He muttered under his breath, "The things I do for the good stuff.  Why did they have to introduce me to great food?" Michael smirked at the words, that smug asshole. Just to be annoying, Jeremy elbowed him in the ribs and pretended it was an accident. "Oops."

"You know, we could always leave you in Spain."

Confidently, Jeremy stopped what he was doing and cocked an eyebrow. Hours upon hours of listening to music in other languages and spending time doing Duolingo in an attempt to learn new stuff flashed in his mind. He may not be fluent but he did know a lot of Spanish. "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't be able to survive there."

"I-" Michael paused, considering. "Huh."

" Si, Michael. Hablo español. Escuchó música, ¿recuerdo? Y Duolingo me ayudó a aprender. Dios mio, yo no soy un idiota ." Michael stared at him in confusion as Jeremy grabbed his friend's water bottle, hoping he didn't fuck up the sentences.

What Jeremy said was, Yes, Michael. I speak Spanish. I listened to music, remember? And Duolingo helped me to learn. My god, I'm not an idiot . He internally cackled because finally, Michael knew what it was like to be on the other side of not understanding someone's gibberish. Sometimes it helps to just hear words being said in a way that means more (since other languages are just better at that) but, come on. It was fucking annoying to not understand the normal conversations.

Welp. At least Jeremy now knew he could speak another language if he didn't think about it too much. What is that, four languages? English, gamer, Spanish, and idiot-ese. Wait, does this make him whatever you call it when you speak more than three languages? Because that would be super fucking cool.

"You know, at least I don't call you an idiot." Jeremy gave him an unimpressed look. He stopped putting Michael’s water bottle in his bag as he realized that Michael can carry his own shit. He leaned over- very awkwardly, he might add, because of the tray thingy -to grab Michael's backpack and opened it. Jeremy shoved the bottle in the side, making sure it was screwed tightly so that it wouldn't spill and fuck up Michael's stuff. "What? I can recognize a word that sounds a lot like English."

"Uh-huh. Sure, dude." Jeremy used his foot to push his best friend’s backpack closer to the latter's side. Michael pushed the tray up and used the hook thingies to keep it in place. The taller teen leaned into Michael and put his head on the Filipino's shoulder. "Whatever you say." Michael pouted and Jeremy snickered. His Player One put an arm around Jeremy’s shoulder. Ah, sweet glory. They're right back to where they belong.

"Oh, how you wound me, bes ." Jeremy rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, do you want me to cuss you out? Because I will not hesitate, bitch." They laughed and in the corner of his eye, Jeremy could see Veronica trying not to laugh, too. He sighed and squirmed in his seat just a tad so he could find a slightly more comfortable spot. "Wait, shit."

Jeremy moved his head from its spot on Michael’s shoulder. He watched as the other boy leaned over Jeremy and put his seatbelt on for him. Michael then put his own seatbelt on and Jeremy blushed. He totally forgot about that.

"Thanks," he said shyly.

"No prob, Jer." Jeremy could feel the plane as it descended. It felt weird and he couldn't exactly describe it. His stomach and head felt off and his ears popped. A little scared, he grabbed Michael’s hand and began to play with his friend's fingers, moving them back and forth with no rhythm whatsoever. The Filipino boy hummed as he watched his best friend's hand move his, simply letting him fidget instead of interfering and trying to stop him.

"Micha-" Jeremy sucked in a breath in an attempt to control his breathing and calm himself. "What's, um, what's that one song you really- you really, uh, like from Wednesday? I think it plays when the bald crazy guy comes in?" Jeremy made sure all his inhales and exhales were at least five seconds while he waited for his Player One to answer.

"I think it's Uncle Fester. It's named after the character. You know, the guy that almost gets with that Debbie bitch in the movies." There was an awkward pause. "Are you okay? You don't seem-"

Jeremy cut him off. He knew that if he didn't talking or try to get his mind off things, he would fucking explode. “Beep beep.” The little hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He could feel Michael staring at him, most likely switching between what the fuck Jeremy? and generally just mentally cussing him out.

Michael laughed and the corners of Jeremy’s mouth twitched. Okay, maybe Michael wasn’t cursing at him in his head. “Wha- who the hell am I, Richie Tozier?” He didn’t respond. He continued to mess with his friend’s hand and may or may not have accidentally pulled one of his Player One’s fingers. Michael hissed and let out an involuntary, “Ow!”

“Sorry,” Jeremy whispered, his voice small.

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t but hey, believe what you want to.

Jeremy made sure he was being more careful as he continued what he was doing. He hummed I Believe from Book of Mormon and Michael rolled his eyes, having had to deal with Jeremy obsessively listening to the song a while back. Jeremy shot him a nervous smile and Michael returned the favor.

Chapter Text

When the plane landed, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. Going up in the air was fun; going down was fucking terrifying, however weird that might sound. It's just… listen, when you're going up, the person- pilot or whatever -doesn't have to worry too much about running into things and crashing. They just have to follow the lines on the ground and all that good shit.

But when going down and landing the plane, it was more important to not crash into anything. They had to maneuver the plane to get in the lines instead of just following them and they needed to not run any poor unsuspecting worker over. That was, in Jeremy’s head, way harder to do because there was practically nothing to help do that; it was just the skill and training of the pilot.

So sue him if he was fucking terrified, alright? It's not his fault he was scared.

Anyway. Time seemed to speed up as they grabbed their things from the top and rolled all that way out of the airport to a New Place™. Also known as Madrid, Spain, as Michael told him on the wait for an Uber to drive them to the hotel. Jeremy hummed when he was given this new information and repeated the words in his head, trying it out.

When they got to their suites- they had gotten two rooms because it was cheaper -Jeremy practically threw himself on the bed, leaving his shit in the small living room. Michael snorted from the kitchenette as he seemingly put his snacks away. Jeremy turned on his back, crossed his arms over his stomach, and stared at the ceiling.

"Dude, we have a microwave!" Michael exclaimed. Jeremy rolled his eyes. "And a dishwasher!"

"Yay," Jeremy said sarcastically. He couldn't care less if he was being honest. Although, it does make him think of the drama teacher at their school and the microwave he keeps in his tiny office. And now that he thinks about it, if Michael was ever a teacher, he would totally do the same thing. Michael would probably keep sushi in a mini fridge and microwave it every day for lunch.

Michael peeked his head through the doorway, his eyebrow raised. "How fucking dare you claim the bed after you slept, like, the entire time." Jeremy spread out starfish style because he felt like pissing his best friend off. " Putang ina, bes ." Jeremy smiled lazily at him. Mostly because he had no idea what the Filipino just said to him. He had a feeling it wasn't very nice.

Michael walked over to him and pushed his arm lightly. Jeremy complied with the silent request and moved it so his Player One can sit down. Michael laid back on the bed, copying Jeremy's position albeit taking up less space. Which, you know, made him kind of nervous that he was being annoying by doing that. Jeremy moved back to his original position.

They laid there for a bit, saying nothing and just… staring at the ceiling, as one does, he guessed. Because that was a thing normal people do, obviously. After a couple of minutes, Michael broke their silence. Jeremy suppressed a flinch at the sudden sound.

"What time do you need to take your meds?"

Jeremy turned on his side. "Uh." He stared blankly for a few seconds. Then he abruptly sat up. "Wait, what time is it?" Michael reached into the large front pocket of his hoodie. He tapped the screen a couple of times, putting in his password and exiting out of apps before actually checking the time. Jeremy was tempted to just take the phone from his best friend and check it himself.

"It's…" Michael squinted at the phone. "2 pm."

"Shit, yeah." Jeremy blinked at the ceiling. He was feeling way too lazy to get up, go out of the room, look through his backpack, get a cup of water, and take his pills. See, even thinking the process was a complete drag. Too boring and took way too much of his pretty low supply of energy. "Michael. Buddy." Jeremy turned his head to the side, facing his friend. " Hermano . Dude." Michael snorted.

"No," he said. "You've gotta go get them yourself. I'm tired too, you know. Not everyone can take, like, fifty naps."

Jeremy pouted but, ultimately, he forced himself to go to his backpack and get his medication. He also grabbed a bottle of water from Michael’s backpack  Jeremy sat himself down on the ground, too lazy to move away from their luggage, and took his pills with a sip of water. Jeremy hummed Numb Little Bug by Em Beihold after swallowing. Because, you know, why the fuck not. It was a good song and Jeremy was way too tired to be humming happy songs.

"Hey, Jerm," Michael called out, very rudely interrupting Jeremy’s time of staring into the great abyss. Couldn't a guy just completely zone out in peace? "We have an hour before I gotta meet with the Soda Guy and I really just wanna nap. Can you wake me up in, like, thirty minutes?"

"Sure." Jeremy shrugged as he answered. He picked at the small hole he found at the bottom of his shirt and continued humming. After he finished the first song, he went on to Birch Tree by Strawberry Guy and leaned back against the wall. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Jeremy was uncomfortably aware of his heartbeat and he would be lying if he said that- along with the almost silence -it didn't freak him out.

"I wonder what he expects me to do," Jeremy mused after hearing Michael’s tiny snores from the other room. Jeremy exhaled softly, trying to make the environment not as stressful as it was. Seriously, did the hotel have to be this quiet? Jeremy would kill to hear people talking to each other rather than just him humming to himself like, he doesn't know, a loser.

Oh well. Guess he'll just suffer.

Chapter Text

" Buenos días, Buenos días ," Jeremy sang from where he had sat on the bed thirty minutes later. The wake-the-fuck-up song was to the tune of Frère Jacques because why the hell not? Michael knows what it is in English so he can figure out why Jeremy chose this song in particular. " ¿Estás durmiendo? ¿Estás durmiendo? Yo estoy aburrido. Yo estoy aburrido. Despierta pendejo. Despierta pendejo ."

"Why the fucking hell are you singing at me in another language," the other boy grumbled as he slowly sat up. He took off his glasses- which had slipped partially off and caused red marks to appear on his temples -and ran a hand down his face. "It is way too fucking early for this, man."

Jeremy shrugged. "Because you told me to wake you up and I had way too much time to think about the best way to do that." He paused and shifted his weight. Sheepishly, he continued. "I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy you that much." He blushed and looked away, too embarrassed to look his best friend in the eye. He knew that it had been a bad idea and yet he still did it. 

Michael frowned at him. "It's fine. You're good, Jer." He stared at him for a weird minute, making Jeremy a little uncomfortable. Okay, fine. He'll admit that it made him a lot uncomfortable and kind of squeamish. He wondered what his Player One was trying to figure out. He hoped that the truth was set in his face so that Michael would just find the stupid answer quickly.

"Ready to go get your expired soda?" Jeremy asked, feeling awkward and trying his best to get rid of the silence that had settled between them. Michael shook his head, snapping out of whatever trance he was in.

"Oh hell yeah, I am!" A beat. "And, Jer, it's vintage soda. Not expired soda." Jeremy raised an eyebrow. Michael huffed in annoyance. "Usually, at least. Whatever. It's the good shit anyway."

They got up and Michael… the idiot fucking reached down to touch his toes. As if, you know, that was a normal thing people do when they wake up. What the fuck. What the actual fucking shit-nuggets. In all of his years, he has never seen Michael stretch after waking up. What the fuck. You're supposed to do that when you're growing but Michael has been the same height for-fucking-ever. Why the fuck?

"What the actual fuck are you doing and why?"

"Jeremy, I don't know if you know," the Filipino answered, "but people can get sore from staying in the same position for too long." Huh. Jeremy forgot that was a thing that could bother people. When he got sore, he kind of just ignored it and it would go away eventually. Which, in retrospect, might be worse than stretching it out but hey. At least he doesn't get injured from it.

Michael stopped what he was doing and rolled his eyes with a smile on his face. He continued on his way, walking out with Jeremy following behind him like, I don’t know, a lost puppy or something. He would like to imagine he didn’t look like one but doing this made him feel slightly pathetic and insecure about how this would look like. Especially since neither teenager knew where the hell they were going.

Michael led the way out of the hotel, stopping one time in the lobby to send off a text to his mothers before heading on their way. Jeremy tried his best to not look stupid, hiding his hands in his pockets and holding his phone tightly. A block away from the hotel, Michael stopped for a second and stared at Jeremy.

"What?" Jeremy asked. Michael wordlessly held out his hand and it dawned on Jeremy what his Player One wanted. Right, to hold hands so they didn't lose each other. That made sense. Jeremy took his left hand out of his pocket and complied with his best friend’s silent request. He wondered why Michael didn't just say something.

The sights were very different from the USA.  Where he lived in New Jersey there were individual houses that were painted awful fucking colors. Here, where they were staying for the day, in place of small homes, there were extremely nice apartments. Some of which had shops on the bottom, complete with patios in front of them. All around him and Michael, people were speaking Spanish and occasionally he would hear English.

It took a bit of walking for them to find the place. The hotel wasn't around any shopping malls or anything so it was hard to find the chain stores that pop up everywhere. Michael had to whip out the GPS on his phone. Jeremy took out his earbuds and plugged them into the phone. He picked his calm-the-fuck-down playlist and If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin played.

Soon enough, they were seated at a cafe right across from Spencer's Gifts. Apparently, they had arrived earlier than the time Michael and the person agreed on. Oops. Now they had way too much time to kill. They decided to spend their free time getting drinks. Michael got coffee- a sugary monster that would make diebetics everywhere have a fucking heart attack -and Jeremy got milk tea.

"Wanna hit up the other stores after?" Michael asked, stirring even more sugar in his coffee. Jeremy wondered if he was going to have to take Michael to the hospital after his on-coming heart attack from all that sugar. "We could get you a souvenir or something. Maybe we can find you a t-shirt that says, I Survived Spain , or something equally stupid."

Jeremy snorted into his tea. "I'll settle for a shirt that just says where we are. Or, like, a new shirt in general."

Michael pouted. "But that's not cool, bes . We could find a kick-ass shirt for you. Maybe one that'll finally match your ugly cardigans."

Jeremy pointed a finger at Michael. "How dare you talk about my sweaters like that. They're comfortable as hell, thank you very much." Michael laughed into his coffee. "And they're not… ugly. They're… unique." Jeremy took a tentative sip of his tea, having gotten it hot. He was surprised to see that it was the perfect temperature for drinking.

"Yeah, dude." Michael rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Uniquely stupid. Where do you even find that shit?

"My closet," Jeremy deadpanned. "I was born right in front of it. My parents saw I was fruity, shoved me in there with the cardigans, and then let me back out twelve years later. They didn’t take into account that I became one with the sweaters." Michael nonchalantly leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Jeremy leaned forward and propped his head up with his arms (which were up on the table, ready to hold his head up.)

"Then you should have had way better style if you were in there for such a long time." Michael sighed, dropping his head and pretending to be disappointed in Jeremy’s choice of warmth and comfort. The smile on his face betrayed what he was trying to act like. "Oh, Jeremiah." He drank from his coffee cup. Jeremy ignored that last sentence because ew, birth names. He's pretty sure only his teachers and… her, so to speak, called him by his actual name.

"True, true." Jeremy took a sip of his milk tea. Then he tried to reason, "But, like, cardigans." Michael was beginning to shake his head when his phone vibrated, alerting he had a text.

"Oh, sick," Michael said as he got out of his chair. "The guy just went on his lunch break. We can meet him right now."

"Yay," Jeremy responded sarcastically. The Filipino took a long drink, hissing when it burned his tongue. Jeremy snickered. "That's why you wait for it to cool down, dumbass." Michael gave him a look and Jeremy laughed as his best friend rolled his eyes and started to walk away. He felt bad about making fun of his friend but Jeremy thought the good outweighed the bad in this situation. So it was okay. Hopefully.

Jeremy chewed his lip. Michael looked back at him and told his Player Two, "I'm buying you chapstick if it's the last thing I do." Jeremy stood there, confused, for a full five seconds before realizing Michael was about to ditch his ass if he didn't start walking.

Chapter Text

"Wait, wait, wait," Jeremy said, gesturing to the young guy outside Spencer's Gifts. He pushed past the fact that if he spoke any louder, the poor person would hear him. The teenager tried to ignore the lady who brushed past him, frantically speaking on the phone in rapid Spanish like her life depended on it. "That's your guy?!" Michael looked at him like he was saying, well duh . "Michael! I can't go with you!"

"Why not?!"

"Because-" Jeremy blushed profusely, embarrassed as fuck about what he is about to say "-he's super hot! That's why!"

Michael looked up at the sky. "God help us all." He looked at Jeremy and pointed upwards. "You see that? You know it's bad when a fucking atheist is asking someone he doesn't believe in for help. Do you know how fucking shitty things need to be for that to happen?" Michael looked at the sky, looked back at Jeremy, looked at the sky again, and ended up staring at Jeremy.

"Okay, yeah, but dude." Michael snorted and started walking toward the person in question. Jeremy followed behind him, gesturing wildly as he talked. "That guy looks like Andrew Rannells, Ben Platt, Misha Collins, and fucking Ryan Reynolds had a baby together. And then that baby ended up being adopted by Edna Mode and Connor Mckinley. And on the weekends, that baby goes shopping with Whizzer Brown."

"So… he's hot, sassy, super fucking gay, and well dressed?"

"Exactly! You get it."

Michael laughed and stopped walking. "What the fuck?" He shook his head in disbelief at his best friend’s antics, like he couldn't believe this was happening. But the asshole wasn't stopping any time soon. He kept going despite Jeremy’s protests and his totally valid reasons for not buying expired- sorry, Michael, vintage -soda from that guy in particular.

"M-Michael!" Jeremy exclaimed as the other boy continued walking as if his best friend wasn't literally begging him not to go over to the person. "Come on, man. Don't- Michael!"

"Dude, chill." Michael put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. He gestured with his free hand as he talked. Jeremy "It's just a guy." Jeremy tried to speak but his friend interrupted. "Buh-buh-buh. I know you’re going to Jeremy this into a worse situation than it actually is but it's literally just some random dude selling us drinks-"

"I can't believe you would ever do that to my name-"

"-And it's not like I'm going to ask him to have sex with you. We're just going to buy shit. That's it. We never have to see Hot and Gay Guy ever again." Jeremy pouted. "Now, please , wipe that pout off your face so I can buy some soda." Jeremy did not stop pouting. Michael crossed his arms and gave him a look like he was ready to smack the ever-loving chicken Mcnuggets out of him. The teen stopped pouting in fear that he crossed an unmarked line.

Michael sighed. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for pressuring you but I don't want you to think that we can't enjoy something simply because you're afraid of embarrassing yourself." The Filipino slowed down and knocked his shoulder into his best friend’s. " Mahal ." Jeremy felt his cheek heat up as he remembered what the word meant.

"Huh?" He choked out.

Michael just smiled and said, "It's nothing important." He interlaced his fingers with his Player Two's and Jeremy let it go. They had more important things to deal with. Namely the super fucking hot guy that Michael is about to talk with. Fuck, what if the person thinks they're dating or something? That would be really embarrassing and honestly, Jeremy didn't think he can handle that scenario at the moment.

He was saved from spiraling down that trail of thoughts by Michael walking up to the guy with Jeremy in tow. Said person was tall- just a little shorter than Jeremy but taller than Michael by a mile - with side-swept black fluffy hair and light skin. He was young, too; probably around the same age as Jeremy or maybe a year older. He reminded Jeremy of Snow White if the princess was male and wore clothes that tethered between the line of sexy and professional.

The person wore an open floral-patterned black and blue waistcoat with a white untucked dress shirt. On the collar of his shirt, he wore a green Beetlejuice beetle pin. Jeremy didn’t dare to look any farther than the waist because holy crap was he gay for the man who was currently brushing his hair out of his face, revealing his dark brown eyes-

"Hola, guapo y tu amigo," the guy said, staring at Jeremy. "Me llamo Rafael. ¿Y cómo te llamas?"

Hey, handsome and your friend, Jeremy translated in his head. My name is Raphael. And what is your name? The taller teen blinked, broken out of his trance, and he blushed furiously as he realized what Raphael had just said. Michael stared helplessly at his best friend. Oh. Oh shit , Jeremy was the only one who knew what the guy was saying and Michael had no idea. And that means Jeremy has to actually talk back to the guy. Fuck.

"U-uh," Jeremy stammered, turning to Michael to avoid looking at Raphael. "He's asking you, um, your name." Michael shot him a grateful smile and squeezed his hand. Raphael frowned for half a second and quickly switched back to his eased smile.

"I’m Michael." The Filipino teenager waved. "My friend is Jeremy. By any chance do you speak English?" Michael looked at Jeremy and raised an eyebrow, hoping there wasn't an awkward pause if the guy didn't know English. God, Jeremy is fucking praying that doesn't happen because it would be weird as hell.

Luckily someone out there was listening when Raphael responded, "Yes, I do speak English," with a chuckle. "¿No hablas español?" Michael made a confused face and Jeremy sighed. He resigned to answer the question because you can't just not answer something asked directly to your face. That would be rude.

"Hablo po- um, poquito español pero Michael-'' Jeremy gestured with his free hand to his best friend "-no habla español. Me solo." He let out a nervous laugh. He's pretty sure he didn't say that right but, come on. How is he supposed to talk to a hot-ass guy who was flirting with him in Spanish? What the fuck is he supposed to do when his brain isn't in commission because of the situation?

Raphael clicked his tongue, making a small. "Ah, okay." He held out his hand for Michael to shake and Michael stared at it for a tad too long before shaking it. Raphael then held out his hand to what Jeremy thought was going to be a handshake, but instead the guy lifted Jeremy’s hand and kissed his knuckles. Jeremy could hear his best friend choke back a laugh and Jeremy flushed deeper. "Let us talk."

"Oh- okay," Jeremy squeaked.

Chapter Text

Hey, guys. Sorry for not updating over the weekend 😅  I may or may not have forgotten...

So, I'm in class right now so I'll keep it short. I have made the decision to put the story on hold for just a little bit. I'm thinking maybe two weeks? I'm not exactly sure.

I just want to make sure I'm actually writing well and not stressing out about having all the chapters and shit done. So while I'm gone, I will still be working on the story.

Welp... see you guys! Take care, drink water, keep safe, all that jazz.

:)

Chapter Text

Raphael let go of Jeremy’s hand- God, he was holding his hand- and took a step back. He started towards an unknown destination and they followed. Jeremy tried his hardest to not focus on his now free hand, which was warm. Michael squeezed his other hand in an attempt to calm his Player Two down so they could just buy some soda. Which, you know, fuck. Jeremy doesn't think he'll survive the next ten minutes without saying something stupid like-

"You're fucking hot." Shit, he can’t believe that just happened. Why did he say that? Because Jeremy sure as hell didn’t mean to say that. He was pretty sure he was having a full-on conversation with his brain on NOT saying that type of crap. Not egging his mouth on to say stuff like that.

Raphael turned back, smirked, and said, "Thanks." Oh, Jeremy was so fucked.

Michael laughed. “Sorry, sorry. That’s just-” Jeremy glared at the short Filipino because how fucking dare he laugh at his friend’s idiocy. Michael stifled another loud laugh at the look he was getting and swung their hands back and forth. “Man, I didn’t think anything interesting would happen on this trip, you know?”

Raphael nodded and continued walking to a small restaurant. He pushed open that door for them and- Jeremy got the feeling this was on purpose -made eye contact with the taller teen. Jeremy felt the tip of his ears heat up and Michael, with a smile on his face, rolled his eyes. He may or may not have had to pull Jeremy along just a little so that his dumbass wasn’t frozen to the doorway like, oh, I don’t know, a fucking dumbass.

They settled at a small booth close to the entrance. Raphael sat across from them and Jeremy, who was fucking nervous as hell even though he wasn't planning on talking, held on tightly to his best friend’s hand. Michael tapped his fingers on his thigh and Raphael seemed to be searching for someone. When a young woman looked at the guy, he smiled.

Light streamed into the place, illuminating the cool little things that Jeremy noticed. Like the fact that on one wall, there were photos of what seemed to be sports teams. (Let me tell you, Jeremy, for the life of him, could not tell you what sport it was. He knew jack shit about sports.) The roof had paintings of several scenes from famous movies, like the gates of Jurassic Park and Beetlejuice in a graveyard. Jeremy found that super fucking awesome. Like, holy shit that was cool.

A young woman walked over to them and Jesus Christ, she was hot too. She had dark skin that Jeremy was so fucking bi for. The woman was dressed in a traditional waiter uniform; a white dress shirt, black pants, and nice black flats. Her long curly hair was styled into a tight ponytail and- crap, Jeremy can't deal with this shit. What the hell is his twink-ass supposed to do?

Because the only non-Hispanic/Asian person was surrounded by hot people, he looked down at the table. Michael saw this and he started moving his thumb across his knuckles in a comforting manner.

"¡Hola," the waitress greeted as she took out a notepad and pen, "hermano y su amigos! Me llamo Rosa." Raphael gave a small wave in response. She had three menus but handed them two; one for Jeremy and Michael, and one for her… brother. Oh fuck, those two are related? "Aquí tienen los menús. ¿Qué les pongo para beber?"

Jeremy took a second to translate in his mind. Hello, brother and his friends. My name is Rosa. Here are the menus. What would you like to drink?

"She's asking what you wanna drink," Jeremy whispered to Michael, leaning closer to the other boy. Michael nodded and turned the menu to the back to look at the drinks. It was in English, surprisingly enough. Jeremy wasn't expecting that when the woman immediately started speaking Spanish. He kind of just assumed that everything was in a different language. He didn't account for the fact these people were probably used to tourists.

"Hey yourself," Raphael said back to Rosa. "Can I get…" He tapped his chin with his pointer finger and tilted his head up. "Apple juice." She rolled her eyes at her…brother. They don't look related- like, at all -but maybe they have different parents? You know, share a mom but different dads? Or vice versa? Or maybe they're adopted siblings? He doesn't know. Maybe Jeremy was reading way too much into this.

"Can I have water?" Michael said somewhat hesitantly. He was very indecisive with his food choices at restaurants. And- oh crap they're at a restaurant. A public eating place with someone they had barely met. Jeremy might have to explain why he wasn't eating because there is no way Raphael isn't going to notice that he's picking off Michael’s food. Fuck. This wasn't good. Not good at all. Oh, fucking shit. Jeremy was so fucked.

"M-michael," Jeremy whispered. He felt the panic welling up in his throat, making it hard to talk and it reminded him that it meant it'd be harder to eat. "I- can we-" He stopped himself from talking. It hurt too much to push past. Jeremy hoped his Player One heard him because shit, he was freaking the fuck out.

Michael, thank the fucking lord, took one look at him, turned to the waitress, and asked, "Can he get ice cream or do we have to wait until after we eat for dessert?" Jeremy thanked his lucky stars because he fucking loved ice cream. It's easy to eat and god does it taste good. He's able to get that solid feeling while it melts in his mouth, tricking him into not thinking too much about how he needs to force it down.

Rosa smiled, obviously judging but not saying anything about it. "No, you don't have to wait." 

Michael gave her a thumbs up. He turned to Raphael as he squeezed Jeremy’s hand reassuringly. Hold on just a minute, Michael was saying with that one gesture. I'll get you out of here in just a bit. "Can you excuse me and my friend?" Raphael made a confused face but quickly masked it with a polite smile. He made a gesture as if to say, Go ahead. They were customers, after all.

Michael took this as his cue to get the hell out of dodge and Jeremy followed behind, squeezing his best friend’s hand and trying to focus on his breathing.

Chapter Text

Ah fuck.

That was the only thing Michael could describe the situation. Ah fuck, he should have known that Jeremy would get nervous in a public place. Ah fuck, why were there so many people Jeremy was bi for? Ah fuck, Michael should have guessed that Jeremy would freak out about his position. Ah fuck, ah fuck, ah fucking shit fuck-balls.

He led the panicking boy down a short hall that had a sign saying, "Los baños." He hoped that meant bathroom because if it didn't, then the only other place it would be was the kitchen. And he's pretty damn sure that would be way worse for Jeremy to walk into because it would be awkward and super fucking embarrassing.

Michael pushed open the door with what is typically known as the symbol for the men's bathroom and pulled Jeremy along. The song La Bamba by Los Lobos played quietly, echoing through the- thank fucking god -empty bathroom. Michael turned around and locked the door, squeezing his best friend’s hand in reassurance.

The room was for one person; there was a toilet in the corner along with a urinal. A few feet away, a sink came out of the wall, and above it was a small mirror. Next to it was one of those dryers that you put your hand in front of the sensors and it activates. The wall was white tiles for the most part, with every couple of tiles being a bright color that added some pop to the room.

"Is more touch okay?" Michael asked tentatively. Jeremy avoided eye contact and didn't answer the question. The shorter teenager took this as a no. Which was okay; his Player Two just needed some space. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Jeremy tugged at his hand and moved to sit down on the ground, leaning his back against the wall. He hugged his legs close to his body and Michael let him keep holding his hand even though it sort of hurt Michael’s arm.

"I'm sorry," Jeremy whispered into the silence of the bathroom. "I- it's just-" He trailed off and let out a frustrated sigh. Jeremy leaned to the side, resting his head on Michael’s shoulder. Michael didn’t mind that Jeremy was doing things at his own pace. He would rather Jeremy go at a speed that works for him to calm down rather than rush to explain things to Michael and stress the both of them out.

After a few minutes of Jeremy softly counting out the seconds he needed to breathe for- starting at 5 seconds and then working his way up to 10 -Jeremy continued to explain himself.

"I just… I started thinking about how I- we needed to eat because, um, you don't go to a restaurant and, like, not eat. You know? That's- it's- I think that’s a shitty thing to do and I- I really didn't want to embarrass myself in front of hot people." Michael hummed in understanding. Jeremy was quiet for a few minutes before he continued. "Sorry. I know this was supposed to be fun and, um, yeah. Sorry about making this about me. I was really hoping this would have been a quick sort of thing."

Jeremy laughed, a mix between bitterness and joy. He opened his mouth again, most likely to say sorry for no reason again, but Michael stopped him before he could. "Bes, I love you, and you should know that it's all good. I get it. It's okay to be scared of shit like that. I know it's hard for you sometimes."

"But…" Jeremy sighed. "I'm supposed to be, you know, okay with this. I do it with you- with you all the time and I just- I don't- ugh. I was supposed to be fine today because nothing really happened. But now I-I feel like this for no reason and I don’t- I don't get why I'm like this when I know I was okay, like, five minutes ago. It doesn't- it doesn't make sense because I'm supposed to be better. I- I was doing better."

They were quiet, letting the weight of Jeremy’s words hang in the air between them. 'Supposed' was the word that stuck out most in Michael's head because that was what his best friend repeated. He had said he was supposed to be happy; he was supposed to be okay; he was supposed to be completely fine. Which, honestly, is fucking bullshit. No one is supposed to feel a certain way. You feel what you feel and you can't stop that shit.

Michael considered saying as much but he thought he reached his emotional limit for the day. He didn't feel like telling Jeremy and then feeling shitty afterward because he knows that his Player Two, somewhere deep in his mind, understood that. Michael knew that because he'd said it so many times before and Jeremy had heard him clearly every single time.

So they sat there together, both in their own little worlds. Jeremy murmured, "Sorry," another time for a reason unknown to Michael. The sorter boy acted like he didn't hear it so his best friend could have some time to think about whatever it was he was thinking about. And so Michael could make a plan of attack that would get Michael his drinks AND get Jeremy back to the hotel so they could relax before their flight.

He'll probably go to what's his name, tell him that Jeremy was feeling a little sick, quickly buy the sodas, and then get the hell out of there. Maybe get the guy's phone number so Jeremy could have a cute guy to socialize with outside of Michael and, occasionally, Michael's internet friend, Rich. That would be the best-case scenario, though. He doubts Jeremy would text the guy because he would get nervous and Michael would end up having to help him send a message.

"What's it like to be normal?" Jeremy asked, breaking the silence.

"I don't know," Michael answered. "That's decided by what you think. Not what I think because, honestly, I think this is normal. I'm used to it so I wouldn't know if this is what you consider normal. But, uh, yeah. I don't have a single fucking idea." Michael squeezed his Player Two's hand. "There’s nothing wrong with not being normal, Jer. It's just who you are. You can't change that."

"I know," Jeremy mumbled. "Doesn't mean I like it."

Michael frowned. He decided to let that go. He couldn’t think of anything to say to that anyway. Well, anything other than an incredulous, 'What the ever-loving fuck, man.' So instead he put his plan into action. "Ready to blow this popsicle stand?" 

Chapter Text

Jeremy nodded against Michael’s shoulder. He was so ready to get the fuck out of there. He just wanted to go back to the hotel and watch a shitty TV show.

"Wait," Michael said, "do you have your earbuds?" Jeremy furrowed his brows and stuck a hand in his pocket. Did he- oh. What the hell, he did. Jeremy totally forgot about that. Huh. That would have been helpful when he was in the super-panic stage of his panic attack. He could have been listening to music to calm down this entire time. Ugh, curse his stupid memory.

Jeremy pulled out his phone and earbuds. He put them in and started playing music so he didn't have to focus on reality; he trusted that Michael would find a way for them to leave without embarrassing them. Obvious- one of the deleted Dear Evan Hansen songs -sung by Taylor Trensch played, drowning out Ella Baila Sola by Esteban Armando and Peso Pluma.

Together, they stood up and, with a few calming breaths, walked out of the bathroom. Michael led the way back to their table, weaving them through the other customers. Jeremy flinched every time he came in close contact with something/someone. He hated himself for doing that but he couldn't stop. Jeremy accepted that he would be on edge for the next hour or so as he recovered from what he is mentally dubbing The Spain Incident, an incident that he will try to never speak of again.

"Sorry," Michael said, sliding into the booth and pulling Jeremy with him. Jeremy eyed the melting vanilla ice cream on the table. "Something came up and, uh, unfortunately, we've got to cut our time short. If that's okay with you?" Jeremy reached out to grab the spoon stuck in the desert. He wouldn't get judged for ice cream, right? It's universal to eat that sugary shit and not look good doing it. The food was tempting…

Jeremy stuck the spoon in his mouth and his eyes widened. It was fucking delicious, holy shit. Jeremy doesn't even like vanilla ice cream. What the hell? Why was it so good? Uh, hello? Why the fuck does New Jersey ice cream not taste like the melting piece of heaven that was currently in his mouth? The fuck, this was amazing.

Jeremy focused on his ice cream, ignoring whatever was being said. What happened with Michael would stay with Michael, forever unknown to his best friend. Jeremy wanted to eat his delicious dessert and not pay any attention to the socialization happening next to him because, at this very moment, he gave no fucks about it.

After what felt like forever (but was probably only a couple of minutes), they headed back to Spencer's Gifts to pick up the case of expired soda. Which, in retrospect, sounds lame but, I mean, it's different. He thinks. He doesn't know. It's just old vintage soft drinks weirdly bought off the backdoor of Spencer's Gifts in Spain. It's technically new but the way things happened was the same.

Three numbers exchanged, a free Apocalypse of the Damned pin, and a case of soda later, they started walking back to the hotel. Jeremy and Michael were back to holding hands- for comfort and so they don't lose each other -and they walked at a leisurely pace, taking the time to look around. Or rather, Michael was taking his time looking around. Jeremy was simply chilling, listening to The Things We Used To Share by Thomas Sanders, and not caring about the world around him.

Eventually, they made it back to the hotel. Jeremy followed Michael as he led them to the elevator that would take them up to their room level. Jeremy bobbed his head along to Boy Bi by Mad Tsai and he hummed along to the song. Michael raised an eyebrow, silently asking what the fuck he was listening to. Jeremy just smiled at him and pretended to not know what Michael was asking. He didn't feel like explaining his choice of music to anyone.

Jeremy stopped humming as they got into the elevator. He fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt because what the fuck else was he supposed to do? Just suffer? No thanks.

Michael tapped his fingers against his leg as they waited for the elevator to take them up to their floor. He also hummed in time with his fingers. Jeremy vaguely remembered Michael playing this song back when he played the cello. Was it Kon'nichiwa by Larry Clark? It's been a while since the song was forced into his head. He thought it was that one in particular but he could be wrong. Jeremy didn't really know a lot of classical music.

Whatever song it was, it took a song and a half for them to reach their floor. He got through half of the song he was previously listening to and The Games I Play (sung by Andrew Rannells, obviously) from Falsettos. They got to their floor as soon as the acoustic version of Imagine by Ben Platt started playing.

He liked this song. He thought it was beautiful the way the emotions poured through. He wished there was someone he was able to sing this song to. Maybe Michael but he's pretty sure Michael can actually sing. That guy does pretty fucking amazing during karaoke and Jeremy didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of someone who could do that. Even if it was his best friend.

Quickly, they found their room and Jeremy waited patiently for Michael to get his key card out. As they walked into the room, Jeremy let go of his Player One’s hand and sat himself on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. With a deep breath, he brought his knees up to his chest and held them in place with his arms. Today had no business being as… whatever it was. He genuinely couldn't tell if today was a good day or a bad day.

Jeremy closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He repeated a phrase to himself. He hoped it would calm him down. It always seemed to calm people in fiction down and he was pretty sure Michael did this once. He wasn't sure but did it anyway because it felt reassuring to say the same words over and over. Maybe if he said it enough times, it would be true.

Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow will be-

Chapter Text

Hey!  So, I've been thinking and... well, to be honest, I haven't been doing well. My sleep schedule is shit and my eating habits have been awful lately. I'm, quite frankly, depressed.

So I have made the decision to go on a hiatus.

I don't know how long it'll last and... I'm sorry. I don't want my mood to affect the story- if you haven't noticed, the chapters usually are based off the emotion I feel while writing them- and I don’t want this story to turn out awful because I actually like this story.

Sorry. Have a great day and make sure to eat, and drink water, please. It's not fun to feel nauseous while having to pretend like everything is okay. Trust me.

Take care, people who I'm not even sure are here.

Chapter Text

Shit hit the fan but, in Michael's opinion, it was all good.

Jeremy was sitting next to him, lost in thought and staring into the great abyss. Michael laid down on the left side of the bed with his hands behind his head. He had turned the TV on but wasn't paying any attention to what was playing. He thought it was a rerun of Friends but he digressed. Michael was just enjoying the peaceful moment by his best friend’s side.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined by his fucking phone vibrating. Ugh, of course as soon as he-

His train of thought was ruined by his ringtone. For this particular person, it was Baby, I Love Your Way by Big Mountain. He saw Jeremy flinch at the sudden noise but other than that, the taller boy didn't move. He rolled his eyes at the sound of a phone call and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Of course, it was Rich. No other sane person would call someone at what would be 10 p.m. on a school day. Most people would be focusing on, you know, school. Not their boyfriend who is in another country.

Despite Michael’s disapproval, he sat up, and told Jeremy, "I'll be right back, alright?" He waited a second so he could see the other boy nod. Michael loved his boyfriend but he didn’t want to leave Jeremy alone if something bad was going to happen. Since he got the approval he wanted, Michael walked to the bathroom. The door shut softly behind him as he answered the call. "Hey, babe."

"Michael!" Rich exclaimed. Michael smiled. It's been a while since they've had the chance to call. Michael had been busy with getting ready for the trip and Rich had been busy with family stuff. They had texted but it's not the same as actually hearing Rich's voice. "You're alive! You haven't been kidnapped! Your family hasn't dragged you into hell yet! I still have a boyfriend!"

Michael laughed. "I don't know about that. Jeremy found some hot guy earlier and, well, if my socially awkward best friend can do that then so can I."

"Fuck you," Rich said cheerfully. Michael took no offense to the words; Rich told that to literally everyone he knew and at this point, Michael was used to it being directed at him. He simply rolled his eyes, momentarily forgetting that Rich couldn't see him. Welp. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Right? "You, sir, are a grade-A asshole."

God, Michael had missed hearing his stupid voice.

"Yeah, babe, I missed you too." Michael moved and sat himself on the edge of the tub. He put one hand on the rim to hold himself up and kept the other holding the phone to his ear. "So, can I ask why you're calling me instead of being in class? You know you can't get behind on your work again."

Rich blew a raspberry. "School, schmool. I'd much rather talk to you."

Micharl melted at the words and he smiled fondly. "Aww. That was sweet. I would be so much madder if you hadn't said that." Rich laughed. "It's been a while, huh? How have you been? How's school?"

"First of all, fuck you for bringing up school. Nobody likes school and I know damn well that includes you." Michael laughed at that. "Second, everything's good for the most part. My stupid friend Jake keeps trying to get me into baseball but, uh, I think I'm a little too nerdy for that shit. I may be built like a fucking mini-tank but, like, hell fucking no way can I do a sport."

Michael snorted. As athletic as Rich is, he couldn't for the life of him see his boyfriend playing a sport. Optionally. If he really tried, he could imagine Rich playing soccer but there weren't many clubs around where they lived. And honestly, Michael knew that Rich was way too fucking lazy to run the amount he has to for that sport. Then again, he was sure Rich would love methodically kicking the shit out of things.

"I'm glad you didn't give in," Michael told his boyfriend. "Then I would be obligated to go to games and pick you up from practice. God, I would have to fucking socialize with people because, you know, boyfriend duties."

"Holy shit, you're so right. Huh. How does Jake do that all the time?" Michael shrugged. He had trouble talking to even Jeremy sometimes and they've known each other for years; theoretically it was impossible for him to be awkward around his Player Two. But some-fucking-how they managed to do that on the rare occasion. "Sooooo. How's my tall blue slushie doin'?"

If Michael rolled his eyes one more time, he was sure they would fall out of his stupid eye sockets. "He's… existing. Alive."

"Oh shit. What happened and who do I need to kill?" Michael felt something in his chest ache at the thought of Rich caring for Jeremy. The two hadn't hit it off when they met and Michael had been worried that they would hate each other. If Michael said it wasn't an amazing surprise the day he found Jeremy and Rich texting and acting like friends, he would be lying. It honest-to-Jeremy’s-God warmed his heart that Rich cared for someone that was so close to Michael.

"What? Rich no-"

"Rich yes-"

"You would get thrown into jail and my dumbass will have to figure out how to pay bail. ANYWAY, Jer's just been having an off day. I'm not sure he even realizes it…" Michael sighed. "It's… he seems to be, like, enjoying himself but things keep happening that ruins it for him. I guess it could be the fact that everything is new, and that sets him on edge. I don't know, though. He's just… adjusting to life as best he can."

Rich responded in a sympathetic tone. "Shit, man. That sucks. I hope things get better for you guys. Especially Jeremy. Is he there with you? Right now? Because I wanna talk you him, see if there's anything I can do to help even from an entire fucking oceans away." Michael smiled fondly. "Because if there is a will, there is a way."

"I'm not in the room with him but I'll go over to him right now." Michael got up and took a moment to focus on not falling. His fucking leg went numb so that was fun. Michael walked out of the bathroom, softly calling, "Jeremy? Rich wants to talk to you."

Chapter Text

Jeremy looked up from his place on the bed. He hadn't felt like moving since he sat here. Michael walked to him and sat himself on the bed, leaving about a foot of space between them. He held out the phone to him and this is when it clicked that Michael was on a call with Rich. It feels weird to move so he does it slowly, hoping Michael doesn't notice the difference in his speed. He probably does, anyway.

Jeremy carefully took the phone from Michael and stared at it. He really didn't want to stop listening to his music. The song was currently Fly By Night from, well, Fly By Night: A New Musical. Alas, when Michael gently told him, "You've got to take off your earbuds, Jer," he listened and pulled them out. He didn't want to cause feedback or whatever, and he didn't want to keep Rich waiting any longer. That would be mean, right?

Jeremy cleared his throat as Michael clambered onto the bed, sitting crisscross next to Jeremy. "H-hello?" He watched Michael grab the remote and mute the TV.

"Hey, tall-ass," Rich answered. "I hear you're not doing so hot." Jeremy chewed on his bottom lip. Shit. Michael must have told him about what happened. God, it's so embarrassing that he worried Michael enough that he had to vent about it to other people. He hated causing Michael to feel that way but some-fucking-how it keeps happening. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Real answer: no. Absolutely nothing whatsoever.

Answer given: "Am- am I… sorry, no, I…" Jeremy stopped himself, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted in a way that didn't make him sound needy and pathetic. He didn't want to worsen whatever shitty idea Rich has of him; considering their history, it was already pretty fucking bad and Jeremy really didn't want to mess it up even worse than he already has. "Sorry."

"No worries, man. Take all the time you need." And if that didn't make Jeremy feel guilty then he didn't know what would. Michael held out his hand to Jeremy and the latter took it. The other teen gave him a reassuring smile that, to be honest, wasn't really doing the trick of making him feel better. But the weight of Michael’s hand in his felt nice so he guessed that was cool.

Jeremy forced himself to take a deep breath. "Thanks," he said. He considered whispering it but then that would make him look- and sound -weird as all hell. "Just.. I don't…" He looked at Michael, hoping that maybe his friend might make him think of something to say that was true but not true enough that he sounded pathetic in front of his Player One. "Everything feels… I d-don't know. Off?"

"Like everything is awful?"

"Mm hm."

"And that it's a bad day no matter how happy you felt earlier? Even though everything was going your way and you were having a great time?"

"Yeah. Ex-exactly like that."

Rich hummed. "Jeremy, I think that’s just, you know, a bad mental day. It's nothing you did. It's just your fucked up brain doing what it wants, even though no one ever wants your brain to make you to feel that shitty." That… made sense when Jeremy actually thought about it. He knew nothing bad actually happened to him; he just felt shitty due to his stupid mind. "You’re a good person, Jer-bear. Nothing that happened was your fault."

"Thanks," the tall teenager said. He really meant it because he just… he needed to hear that it wasn't him, so to speak, ruining everything. Unfortunately, Rich, being who he was, had to ruin the sad vibe that Jeremy had going on. Which was fucking rude because how dare he say sentimental shit and then proceed to change the mood completely.

"Well, that is until Michael gets sad. Then I will personally go and kick your ass. Fuck your shitty brain, I can be way worse if you hurt my pookie."

"Wow," Jeremy told him sarcastically. "Thanks, man." The corners of Michael’s lips quirked up, probably amused by whatever the fuck he thought was happening. "G-Glad to know you trust me with your man." Michael gestured for him to let him hear. Jeremy moved the phone away from himself and clicked on the speaker phone.

"I ain't no one's man," Michael piped up, leaning close to the phone.

"What? Nooo Michael," Rich whined. "You can't leave me for the twink! That's fucking dumb! He can't carry you AND be a sugar daddy!" Michael laughed and Jeremy smiled at the idiocy. He was content to let the two talk. He knew that it had been a while since they last spoke to each other on call or in person. Jeremy saw that they had texted but, to his knowledge, it's been a hot minute since they heard each other's voice.

"We know damn well you don't give me money, Rich." The boy on the line laughed and Jeremy let himself have a small smile. It felt weird to do but he… he wasn't happy, not anywhere close to being in that ballpark, but listening to Rich and Michael joke with each other made him feel better about himself and his life.

The boys were happy- more times than not, which is more than Jeremy could say he was -and that meant that even if he didn't feel that way, then one day maybe he could. Because, in a fucked-up kind of way, if Rich Goranski could have a job and a boyfriend, then one day Jeremy could too. If his friends were able to enjoy life then maybe, just maybe, so could Jeremy.

Rich continued the friendly banter with Michael and Jeremy listened to them talk. He was content to be in the background, not adding or taking anything away from their conversation. He had to admit, it was nice to not be expected to say anything; Jeremy really doesn't feel like talking more than he has and he was fucking glad that he wasn’t forced to. Thank god for that.

Chapter Text

After almost twenty minutes on the phone, Rich let slip that he was calling from his school bathrooms. To this, Michael scolded him and hung up after saying, "Jesus, babe. I totally forgot about that. Get the fuck back to class. You shouldn't skip it." Jeremy snorted from his spot on the bed. He knew damn well that if Rich had been the one on vacation, Michael would do the same thing Rich was doing right now.

"Ugh, fine. Bye!" Rich said. Michael gave Jeremy a look as if he was checking that they were both hearing the same bullshit from their friend. "You’re not pieces of shit! Peace out!"

"Thanks," Jeremy said dryly.

"Bye," Michael told Rich. They stared at the phone, waiting for someone to hang up. After hearing some mumbled words from the boy on another part of the globe, Jeremy hung up the phone. He only felt slightly guilty for doing that because, well, someone had to do it and clearly no one wanted to. Someone had to be the bad guy and today Jeremy was fucked up so why not let him do the mean stuff?

Michael frowned and Jeremy set the phone down on the bed, screen facing down. "He really shouldn't be missing that much class."

"Yeah," Jeremy said, intending his next words to sound like a joke despite how true they were, "and m-my meds are supposed to be working but here we are." Michael stared at him. He was probably trying to process that yes, his best friend just said that. Jeremy regretted his words as soon as the gears started turning in Michael's head, probably gearing up for the whole speech about how Jeremy isn't defined by his medication and his mental illnesses.

"Jer-"

"Please don't," Jeremy said softly. Michael squeezed his hand reassuringly. He was still giving him That Look™ that made Jeremy feel odd inside. He couldn’t exactly describe it but he knew it didn’t make him feel good.

"Okay." A beat of silence. "I love you." Fuck, that kind of hurt Jeremy's heart. With a day like this, how could anyone, let alone Michael- who is the best person he has ever had the pleasure of meeting- say that to him of all people? Especially since he knew what a mess Jeremy was and was dating someone who Jeremy knew was way better of a person than he was.

But, of course, despite his stupid feelings, he responded, "L-love you too." How else is he going to respond to that? He does platonically love Michael with everything he has but the thought of that same sentiment being returned was hard to think about. No matter how many times he had been proven wrong by Nanay, Ina, or Michael, he still thought that it was crazy for anyone to care about him.

He doesn't know why. Maybe it's because he didn't grow up in that kind of environment; before basically becoming adopted by Michael’s family, he didn't know what it was like to live in a family where everyone loved each other. Maybe he was just never taught to love himself. Or maybe he… can't.

It's all speculation, anyhow. Jeremy had no fucking idea why this- how Michael loving him -was so hard to comprehend. Perhaps he wasn't born to understand how anyone could ever stand him.

Michael violently pulled him out of his thoughts by asking, "Wanna take another nap? I'm tired as shit, bes." Jeremy smiled softly. He would love to take another nap and escape his feelings. Sleep sounded like heaven, Elysium, and everything good right now. He nodded and Michael let out a sigh of relief. "Let me just get dressed for bed. I'm tired, man."

Jeremy rolled his eyes. Of course, Michael would be in his pajamas by… whatever… time it was. He had no idea; right now, time seemed like a concept of the imagination, and currently did not exist at the moment because Jeremy was not a creative person. Sure, maybe he doodled random drawings but he wasn't very good at it.

He watched Michael leave the room and come back to the small bedroom, dragging his suitcase along with him. Michael went through all of his stuff and he made a triumphant sound when he found his pajamas. Jeremy rolled his eyes, allowing himself a small smile. Michael gathered his things before walking off to the bathroom, leaving Jeremy alone with his thoughts.

Which was… fine, he guessed.

Jeremy laid down on the bed, facing the ceiling for no particular reason other than that's the way he leaned. He waited for Michael to come back and hummed a song that was stuck in his head. Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day, he thought it was. Jeremy wasn't sure though. It's been a while since he's heard it and the last time he did, he hadn't been paying attention.

Soon enough Michael came out of the bathroom wearing his stupid-looking cartoon weed-adorned pajamas that Jeremy- who was fucking horrified to remember that he was the one who got it for Michael -made a point to tell that he absolutely could not bring that set. Which, of course, it seemed that he had to bring them despite Jeremy’s opinion.

Jeremy stared at his best friend, horrified, and all Michael did was snicker. He took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand next to the bed. Jeremy mouthed, “What the fuck?” to himself. He couldn’t believe the fucker was wearing those pajamas. Outside of their home, no less. He understood wearing them in their home- Jeremy wasn't above stealing clothes and he would be lying if he never stole the weed pajamas -but to bring them around the family? That's fucking insane.

“You know I had to,” Michael said with a shit-eating grin as he laid down next to his Player Two. “These were the comfiest I had. It gets cold at night, alright?”

“That's such a goddamn lie,” Jeremy mumbled as Michael gently pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him. Jeremy closed his eyes and turned on his side, resting his head on his best friend’s chest. Ah yes, it was Return of the Human Mell pillow™. And Michael was, unfortunately, right. They were extremely soft and perfect for cuddling. “You’re lucky they're comfy,” was the last words he said before his breathing evened out and he fell asleep. It didn't take long for Michael to follow his lead.

Chapter Text

“Jeremy,” he heard a familiar voice say. He felt himself being poked but, to be honest, he was way too tired to care. “Jeremy, come on. Wake up, dude. Nanay and Ina want us to walk out in an hour and I know damn well it'll take you that long to get ready. You don't want to keep my moms waiting, do you? You know how they get when there's a time crunch.”

“But sleep,” Jeremy whined, turning on his side to face where he thought Michael’s voice was coming from. “Fuck your family. I'll stay in Spain and sleep.”

“I won't hesitate to carry you to the uber, bes,” the Filipino threatened. Jeremy sighed and opened his eyes to the not-very brightness of… Was he reading the clock right? Did that shit say 3 am? What the fuck. What the actual fuck-ity fuck shit-noodles. Someone please explain to him why his best friend is waking him up at 3 in the fucking morning. How is he supposed to function and do shit at 3 a-fucking-m?

Michael was now out of his god-awful weed pajamas, thank the lord, and in his usual hoodie and sweatpants combo. “There you are, Jer. Come on. We need to start packing up right now so that we have time to grab some breakfast.” Jeremy pouted and Michael rolled his eyes. “If it makes you feel better, your phone is charged now. I think it died when we took a nap but I put it in to charge earlier so it should be good.”

Jeremy rubbed his eye as he yawned. None of the interaction he was having was processing. Words were simply not making any semblance of sense. “Thanks, Micha. I don't know what I'd ever do without you.”

“Probably just sleep all day.”

“Screw you.”

“No thanks. I'd rather not cheat on Rich.” Jeremy glared at Michael. There weren't many thoughts in his head, but there was one: he fucking hated Michael and everything he stood for. And everything he sat for, too. Fuck him for waking him up at 3 in the morning. No man should ever- fuck that, no thing should ever be awake at 3 in the morning unless they are whatever you call it when they hunt at only night. Being woken up really fucking early should be considered a crime.

Reluctantly, Jeremy got out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He had to admit, he couldn't tell if it was dark and therefore hard to see or if he was just really fucking tired. It was probably the latter, considering the situation. Seriously, 3 in the morning wake-ups? Definitely not Jeremy’s thing. He’s a never person, through and through. Just straight tiredness all day, with energy for about an hour before lunch and that's it for his productivity. What’s the name for that? Ah yes, a permanently exhausted pigeon.

Michael, the utter asshole, sat quietly on the bed as Jeremy stumbled around like, he doesn't know. A zombie or whatever. It's too early to be thinking of crap.

Jeremy decided that he didn't give any shits about what he was wearing, so there's that. He decided to change into his pajamas because the jeans he was wearing were beginning to feel really uncomfortable. God, he can't help but hate past him for not thinking of changing to at least his pajama bottoms. Curse Past Jeremy and his stupid actions. Always had to be too lazy to do things that would help Future Jeremy.

After getting dressed he squinted around the room, to find his phone on the nightstand, next to a half empty bottle of water. Or half full, if that's what floats your boat. The point was that the bottom half of it had water and Jeremy cannot tell if it belongs to him or Michael. Jeremy took the bottom and sipped from it. Michael was giving him a look that he didn't know how to interpret.

“What?” Jeremy asked, genuinely confused. “Did I forget anything?”

“No,” Michael answered. “You're just taking care of yourself, that's all.” Jeremy raised an eyebrow. He didn't know why it was important enough for Michael to have a look on his face that Jeremy was beginning to think of as pride. It’s not like he's never drank water before. Granted, he didn't drink a lot of water due to being a big fucking inconvenience to him and that sometimes he didn't really have water in this house. Because, you know, that whole thing where Jeremy had to buy his own groceries but didn't have the money for it.

“Okaaaay, weirdo.” Jeremy threw the closest pillow to him at his best friend. He laughed at Michael’s shocked expression.

“How fuckin’ dare you,” Michael said. He pushed up his glasses with his middle finger, intentionally flipping off Jeremy. “The betrayal. The disloyalty. The-”

“Stupidity?” Michael glared. Jeremy worried for half a second that he was actually mad but in a second, the other teenager was smiling at him.

“Yeah, basically.” They laughed. Jeremy thought he just might be able to forgive the asshole for waking him up at… wait, let him remember… three in the… fucking morning… Yup, no. Nevermind, the forgiveness thing was a false alarm. Jeremy will never forgive him for that. Not unless he let him sleep in sometime in the next week.

Michael reached across the bed to put the pillow back where it belonged because he didn't like to leave a messy hotel room behind for the employees to deal with. Neither did Jeremy, for that matter, but excuse him if he forgot some things. His best friend woke him up at three in the morning. Sorry if he forgot to do anything that would make housekeeping's (he didn't know if that was what it was called) life easier.

Wait, would that make their life harder? He didn’t know how, exactly, they made their money. He didn't want to do something that would cause them to lose money and then have random people hate him. Jeremy wondered if they were paid by the hour or if it depended on how many rooms they cleaned. He hoped it was by the hour so then they can depend on a steady income.

Jeremy shook his head a little to get rid of his thoughts. Michael gave him a look and Jeremy ignored it because he didn't want to deal with the negative emotions he would get if he saw how Michael was looking at him. He was sure it was nothing bad but then again, Jeremy's brain would definitely misinterpret what Michael said.

Whatever, it was too early to be thinking of shit.