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Michael’s hoodie feels like armour to him.
The worn material covering nearly every inch of skin, rubbing against it in a comforting weight; it’s like armour.
Not armour in the way a knight would wear, not designed to take hits, (the bullies proved that) but armour like a beetle's shell, designed to protect the soft insides.
He was forever grateful for his hoodie. It muted the world around him, turning its edges to a soft red. Everything was blessedly muffled, the loud noise of the crowds, the warm touch of his best friend's hand, the slurs yelled at him across the hall.
His armour had upgrades too, headphones blaring his or Jeremy’s favourite music to drown out the world, the patches lovingly sewed on - to tell people about himself without having to actually tell people - and the polar bear pattern attached to the back made him look more like part of the crowd.
Sometimes he wished the hoodie would swallow him whole. That would remove the glaringly obvious weakness of it. His uncovered face. The beetle’s vulnerable underbelly.
Having glasses is arguably the worst thing about getting beat up, Michael’s glad that Jeremy only needs his glasses to read - he’s never had to deal with the lenses cracking while still on his face the way Michael has. That’s fine.
Michael doesn’t get bullied very much, it’s mostly just people trying to live up to the Disney ideal of a high school bully yelling insults at him. Richard Goranski was one of his main bullies, but he was in hospital so the week was relatively calmer.
After the Squip disaster, Michael moves to the ‘popular kids’ table; he needs his armour more than ever. To block out the loud gossip from Jenna, to muffle the aggressive clap on the back from Jake, to stifle the discomfort when Brooke leans into his personal space to talk to him. He hates it. The red of his comfort zone is buzzing into a more violent shade.
Jeremy confronts him about it. He knows. Of course he knows. He can still read Michael like an open book even if it’s not fully mutual anymore. Jeremy asks him to give them a chance. Michael says he’ll try.
It takes a while, a lot of time and countless apologies, but they get there. Fear and trepidation are replaced by relief and joy as Michael approaches the familiar table, settling in next to Jeremy and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Brooke leans in and greets him, pointing out Chloe and Rich having a heated debate and placing bets on who gives up first. Christine wheels Jake into the cafeteria, both of them calling out cheerful greetings. Jeremy turns to Michael and starts talking about a new video game trailer he saw, warmth seeping into his hoodie where their arms meet.
Michael smiles, pulling his hood down. He doesn’t need his armour here. Not when his safe space is already the warmest red.