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I.
They’re four years old, their friendship had kicked off on a bang when they befriended each other at recess by screaming their feelings at each other to the chagrin of Ms. Beatrice. Their parents were ecstatic at the idea of their child finally made a friend, setting up a playdate at the nearest playground in the neighborhood.
After briefly catching up they had run off to the mulchy part of the area to play tag while the adults sat on a bench. Michael had been chosen and was now running towards Jeremy. Jeremy sprinted out in random directions.
Michael had given up on taunts and human words, deciding to just make screaming noises with panting breaths. He was starting to gain on Jeremy, who had started running towards the designated safe area, the slides.
As Jeremy saw the slides approaching he felt the wood chips trip up his shoes, falling forward. Soon he was face down on the floor, with an annoying burn on his knees.
His face burned in mortification, his first friend already gone because he ruined the game. Tears welled up in his eyes and he pulled his knees up and curled into himself.
“Jerry!” Michael ran towards him, “Are you okay?”
Jeremy stared up at him before sniffing, starting to sob again. Now Michael thought he was a crybaby too.
Michael’s hand had reached over and grabbed his balled up fist.
“It’s okay! My mom brought bandaids, she says they’re magic so they’ll get better really quickly and we can play another game!”
Jeremy looked at Michael in confusion and asked if he still wanted to be friends. Michael smiled at him in a confused manner, correcting him with ‘ best friends’ as they walked towards his dad, holding hands.
II.
They’re eight years old, recently starting third grade. Jeremy’s dad had gone out on a business trip for a few days.
Jeremy was stuck dealing with his mother, who had been leaving take out boxes on the floor and letting dust settle around the house, making Jeremy sneeze. When he complained about flies at school, Michael had suggested a sleepover at his place. When Michael told his moms who were picking him up, they crouched down and softly asked if his mother had been helping him while his dad was out. His mother had been happy to give him away, and after Michael’s moms lent him some clothes that weren’t worn and used Jeremy was under a makeshift tent in their fort. He huddled closer to Michael, touching their shoulders so he could peek at his gameboy.
As Michael ran his character through the grass, he ranted about the weekend when he went to his uncle’s garage sale, unable to keep quiet.
“…so after we sold it my moms were really happy about it and it was super gross. I get they’re in love or whatever but they don’t need to do it in front of me, I don’t need to hear how pretty they think the other is.” Michael stuck his tongue out, giving a mild look of disgust.
If you asked Jeremy he’d say Michael probably isn’t as grossed out as he says he is. Michael always had a fond look when he would see his parents being happy together, and a few years later Michael will confess he wants something like that when he grows up.
“I think you’re really pretty,” Jeremy says without thinking, his head snaps up and he feels a pool in his stomach that’s been slowly becoming more familiar as he’s growing up. The rock in the pool of his gut weighing him down, tipping him side to side as he trips on his words and feet.
Michael had turned to him in slight shock, game forgotten. His eyes wandered on Jeremy’s expression and he let the silence linger in the air before the corners of his mouth quivered and he burst out laughing, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Don’t laugh!” Jeremy pushed Michael’s arm while the latter was shaking and waving his other hand to ward off Jeremy.
“It’s just- your expression was so…” Michael made a faux-mortified look before falling back into laughter, “It’s fine, I know I'm really cool and stuff.”
Jeremy leaned backwards to lay down, putting his hands on his face and groaned. He rarely embarrassed himself in front of Michael nowadays given how familiar they were, but salvation was few and far between. He couldn’t wait for their friendship to get to a point where it didn’t matter to him.
He felt a pat-pat on his head and moved his fingers so he could see through them at Michael’s face.
“I think you’re really pretty too, Jeremy.”
He feels the pool in his stomach disappear as he sits back up. Michael grabs his gameboy, forgotten on the carpeted floor, making his way to Jeremy before leaning against him.
III.
They’re twelve years old, in the middle of December. Middle school isn’t as good as they thought it would be, but seventh grade isn’t so bad. Their old acquaintances who used to play Power Ranger became too old for Power Ranger and started giving them scary side glances. Jeremy felt the slush-like snow crush under his boots as they walked home, stomping extra hard when he thought about their old friends.
They knew the bus was an option, but some kids have decided that Jeremy and Michael are in fact the worst . So Jeremy had opted for walking, Michael joined him without question. Even though Jeremy thinks Michael’s pretty cool on his own.
“What are you even talking about ,” Jeremy looked at him with a judgemental expression.
“I’m talking about how there were probably thousands of anvils! Swords! Shields! What happened to them, Jeremiah! What happened to them!” Michael used crazy gestures with his hands, “Did they destroy them? How easy is it to destroy an anvil?”
“There’s probably like, a ton in museums, also, dude, modern technology? I’m pretty sure people can recycle an anvil if they wanted to.”
Michael wasn’t entirely satisfied, and pulled out his phone to google.
Jeremy continued to walk forward, looking at Michael as he typed; When he turned back forward he became very aware of the metal streetlight in front of him. Unfortunately, his body hadn’t caught up with his brain and he was now clutching his nose and forehead in pain.
“Ow!” He checked his nose to see if it was bleeding, and turned towards Michael. At first he felt the familiar embarrassment at anyone seeing him walk into a pole, but no one was around except Michael.
Michael who was smiling at him, but it was less in a ‘I’m never going to let you live this down’ humorous smile than it was a soft fondness. His smile reached his eyes and they had something in them that Jeremy couldn’t place.
“Michael?” Michael should’ve been laughing by now, clutching his stomach and doing that - for lack of a better word - adorable chuckle where his tongue was between his teeth and wheezy noises would come out.
“Uh,” Jeremy let out a breathy chuckle, “I was the one who hit my face, not you, buddy.”
Michael’s face changed from the soft fondness to an expression that seemed like it was more suited for Jeremy. His cheeks turned red, eyes widening as it sort of looked like he sucked air in but hadn’t exhaled.
Michael opened his mouth but nothing came out, he then took a deep breath and made a short scream.
Jeremy jumped as Michael regained his composure.
“Sorry! Sorry, I just was in like this weird trance and I was like woah! But y’know when you kind of space out and you can’t stop spacing out? It was sort of like that so I just did whatever I thought would- fix it.” Michael was back to himself, if a little jittery.
Jeremy let out an elongated ‘ohhh’
“I mean at least it wasn’t like- as embarrassing as,”
“Michael”
“Walking into a pole,” Michael’s teasing expression was back, but oddly enough, Jeremy saw the same soft fondness sort of mixed in with it. He subconsciously added the new face to a file of the Michael section of his brain.
“Everyone’s done it! At least I didn’t get my tongue stuck, like in those Christmas movies?”
“Does your tongue actually get stuck like that?” Michael asked, and Jeremy shrugged.
“Apparently they did probably melt down anvils,” Michael said, gesturing to the article open on his phone before turning back in front of them and stopping, “Oh my god, Jere.”
“What?”
Michael pointed towards the illuminated 7/11 in front of them.
“Can we go in? I’ve always wanted to try those cherry slushies that the girl pours for you.”
IV.
They’re sixteen years old, and the Squip had came and went; but wounds were still fresh, and sometimes a forced apology during a shitty school play when the human race was at stake doesn’t completely fix a twelve year friendship.
Jeremy had come over to Michael’s house and somehow it had devolved into an argument, Jeremy couldn’t even remember what it was about. All he knew is that he was storming out the door and off the patio into the harsh weather. The rain was cold, and seeping down through his tee-shirt, making him shiver.
He must’ve left his sweatshirt inside, but there was no way in hell he was going back in after the stupid dramatic exit he just made. He continued to stomp down the stairs towards the driveway, he stared at the PT cruiser that brought him here and ended up resolving that he’d just walk home.
He starts towards the driveway and feels the ground slip beneath his feet as he trips on the wet cement. He does a futile dance around trying not to trip, scrawny limbs everywhere, but it’s ultimately useless as he cartoonishly falls to the ground flat on his back.
He stares up at the cloudy sky above him, accepting his fate as rain unapologetically pelts him before putting his hands on his face.
God he messed up, again . Michael was probably right, again .
He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, why does he keep messing things up for himself? He tries and ends up bruised and soaked on the driveway of a person who didn’t deserve to be driven away.
Soon though, he stops feeling the raindrops on his upper body. He doubts God has had pity on him, seeing as he still feels the weather tapping on his legs. He peeks an eye through his fingers and stares up at a blue umbrella, with a grinning Michael attached at the handle.
“Michael? Oh my god- Michael I’m so sorry, I was wrong. I was being dumb and stupid, and dumb-”
“Jeremy,” Michael was still smiling at him, and Jeremy took guilty comfort in the fact that even after the squip, the soft fondness never completely left his face. “It’s fine, I’m sorry too.”
Jeremy scrambled up until he was standing shaky on his feet towards Michael.
“Sorry for what ? No, I’m like- I’m sorry.” Jeremy was about to go on another tangent before Michael used his free hand to slap it over Jeremy’s mouth. He resisted the urge to lick it.
“Jeremy, I’m serious. That fall was an apology enough.” Jeremy snorted behind Michael’s hand. “I didn’t even know people could fall like that, you fell like a cartoon character!”
Michael was so good , it hurt Jeremy knowing how much he took someone so perfect for granted. He’s not even sure how he was graced with him in the beginning, he was just as pathetic at four years old.
“Right- can I come back inside? Cause I’m kind of… wet.” Jeremy asked, hoping Michael wouldn’t turn him away.
“That’s what she said,” Michael smirked as held out his hand. Jeremy apprehensively took it as Michael helped him stand up. Once he was up Michael tugged him inside.
Shit.
V.
They’re sixteen years old, and they were on their first date.
Jeremy had gone up to Michael, planning on using a well-planned speech, (lack of) suaveness, and a bribery slushie hidden behind his back. Unfortunately, Jeremy’s plan went out the window when instead of starting to speak like a normal person, Michael had given him a particular look causing him to scream “ PLEASE. ” at the top of his lungs.
He held out the slushie in front of Michael’s eyes, waiting for him to take it. He ended up stuttering through a pitiful confession that somehow endeared Michael into saying yes.
After the most embarrassing confession in the history of New Jersey, Jeremy had decided to make up for it by taking Michael on the best first date ever. He had gone with the classic ‘dinner and a movie.’
His dad would be thrilled.
Unfortunately, Jeremy didn’t account for what to do after the perfect first date; because now they were standing at Michael’s door after a perfect night, unsure of what to do next.
“So…” Michael stretched out.
“So…” Jeremy repeated, pointedly avoiding eye contact.
Jeremy took a breath and looked towards Michael, a mistake, as he ended up locking eyes with him. Michael really did have pretty eyes, they always kept that soft fondness with his long dark lashes.
A small step, and they’re leaning towards each other. Jeremy has a rush of adrenaline and takes advantage of it by leaning his head back and-
“Ow!” They shouted in unison. Michael was rubbing his forehead as Jeremy’s face flooded with embarrassment.
“Jeremy! I thought we were gonna kiss , not head-butt each other.” He snickered into his hands, before cackling and pushing up his glasses to rub at his eyes.
Jeremy let out a whine paired with a great voice crack that only made Michael giggle harder.
“Fuck-” He covered his face with his hands and gave a self-depracating smile, “can’t I go one day without my clumsiness fucking shit up.”
Michael’s hands pulled his own off his face, he watched Michael fiddle with his fingers.
“You’re always covering your face with your hands, I have no idea why you’d want to.” He murmured and kissed Jeremy on the cheek. “And for the record, your clumsiness is the reason we’re here in the first place.”
+I.
Years had passed since then, and even though Jeremy had gotten better at being confident and not stuttering through introductions, some things he had were just permanent.
His plan for asking Michael to move in with him was supposed to start with a nice outing, ending with them at their freshman dorm. Instead it ended at the ER, Jeremy clutching a bloody nose while Michael talked to a doctor while assuringly gripping his hand.
Jeremy rubbed his nose at the memory, he’d healed just fine but Michael had never let him live it down.
This time was going to be different, it wasn’t at the beginning of their relationship where Jeremy was unsure of what Michael thought or felt. They’d talked about this, he knew this was right.
He’d learned from last time, however, so instead of planning a romantic gesture he decided to wait for the right time. He didn’t think the right time would be when they were on the couch of their shared apartment, replaying Level Nine of Apocalypse of the Damned for old times sake, but it fit.
When they beat the level, Jeremy felt a wave of assurance and excitement instead of the dread that usually accompanied big events such as these. Of course, Michael didn’t know it would be a big event at all.
“ Yes ,” Michael hissed, moving his character around back and forth in victory, “This was so much easier than in high school.”
“Seriously,” Jeremy said smiling, he stood up and didn’t let Michael think it over much, “Stand up real quick?”
“Why?” Michael asked, standing up anyways.
“Just something I wanted to ask,” reaching into his back pocket for the ring.
“What is it? Are you propos… ing .” Michael finished lamely as Jeremy got down on one knee and pulled out the ring.
He took a breathe, “Michael-”
“Yes.” Michael interrupted, the widest grin Jeremy’s ever seen evident on his face.
“I have a speech, Michael,” Jeremy matched his grin as Michael pulled him back up.
“You can tell me later,” Michael rushed out as he started planting various kisses on Jeremy’s face, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt.
“The one time I wasn’t gonna mess up too,” Jeremy complained without any real annoyance, letting Michael continue peppering his face, “Wasn’t gonna stutter at all, I felt it in my bones .”
“Mm,” Michael hummed, “I believe you.”