Jeremy x Michael Drabbles

1. Heartache

Warnings: Yearning, masturbation, and implications of self-harm

Jeremy slowly felt himself wake up, his legs rubbing together to soothe the uncomfortable feeling between them that had awoken him from sleep. Though his covers had been strewn about, it was still way too fucking hot in the places he was still under them. He felt his shirt cling to his clammy skin and cringed. "Fuck off..." he slurred, kicking his covers off lazily as he was still half asleep. He felt his cock ache through his fuzzy pajama pants as he fully realized what had happened. 

Jeremy had little to no problems sleeping as of late since he had finally gotten his sleep schedule in a decent place and was disappointed to know that he had woken up in the middle of his slumber because he was horny. He felt around on his nightstand to his left for his phone and checked the time. 3:21 am. 

"Jesus fuck, it's too early for this bullshit." He groaned to himself, sleepy and annoyed. He tossed his phone back on his nightstand, clattering against the various other items that lived there and turned bad over on his side. Ignoring his dick's throbbing, he tried going back to sleep. He'd deal with it later, he had plenty of time to jack off today. 

As Jeremy's mind calmed, he grabbed bunches of his covers and sighed, pulling them closer to hug them. He wished Michael was here. Jeremy had spent more than a few nights at his place months ago. They'd face each other and Jeremy would run his hand through Mike's soft, well-kept hair, and take in the pleasant smell as the other hand cradled his back, keeping him close. Michael would rest his head on Jeremy's chest and wrap his arms loosely around him. He'd listen to the sound of his lover's heartbeat as if he was dying, then take a huge sigh that would send shivers up Jeremy's spine. 

It would feel like nothing else in the world mattered except him and Michael. As if time itself had stopped just for them to take in everything about the other. God, he loved that boy.

And with that thought, he felt his dick throb even harder. Fuck, it was Michael. Jeremy had grown accustomed to falling asleep with him and had started to miss him. He felt his heart ache, holding on to the sheets tighter. He was still tired as all hell but the thought of Michael didn't help his situation. "Oh, Michael." he gasped, rocking his hips to create friction. He thought of his boyfriend's kind, freckled face, wanting to kiss every inch of it. He rolled over on his back, thinking of the countless times Michael had forced him down instead. 

Jeremy palmed himself through his fuzzy pants, his breaths becoming inconsistent in depth. He fished his cock out of his pants, his waistband resting comfortably below his balls. He traced the birthmark and scars on his thighs just as Michael would. 

This particular birthmark was Mike's favorite. It looked like a small, crooked lightning bolt and was slightly darker than the rest of Jeremy. He'd coo about how beautiful he thought Jeremy was and joke about how he wanted Jeremy to crush him between his thighs. The dork.

The warm memory made his hips involuntarily buck up into nothing. He touched himself to the thought of Michael between his thighs, sucking him off. He missed his touch, his presence, the way he often smelled like expensive cologne on the account of being an awfully rich kid. His father was one of the founders of Fazbear's after all. Despite being pretty fortunate, Michael was surprisingly empathetic, romantic, generous, and so incredibly charming; something about his lover that drove Jeremy mad. 

His pace quickened, followed by empty breaths; attempts to stifle his pleasured whimpers. He always felt a little embarrassed to be vocal on his own. Though at times he couldn't help it. "Ah, fuck," he sighed, feeling the knot in his stomach become tighter. 

He slowed down, taking in the sensation that was too intense for him to sleep. He wondered if Michael missed him too. If at some point he had also woken up, unable to sleep because his body ached for Jeremy as he did for Michael. 

"M- Michael-!" he keened, pinching his index and thumb right below his tip firmly. He gasped at the extra pressure, rolling his hips to revel in the pleasure. He could feel beads of precum dripping between his fingers. Jeez, could he be any more desperate? His face grew hotter than it already was, imagining Michael watching him get off to the thought of him. This didn't stop him when he shamefully stroked faster, calling out his boyfriend's name into the hot, empty room. 

When he came, he came hard, probably harder than he had in a while. He called out for Michael in hushed rambles. Sudders wracked his body and his back arched as if it would break, hot cum spilling forth and painting his knuckles. Once he had come down from his orgasm, he grabbed one of the various dirty shirts that littered his room and wiped his hand off on it before tossing it in his laundry basket. 

He needed to clean his room sometime today, it was getting on his nerves. But for now, he tucked himself back in his fuzzy pajama pants, rolled over, let his eyelids fall as they began to feel heavier, and drifted off to sleep as he thought of Michael.

(A/N: I was really frustrated this morning so I wrote this because if I have to suffer, so does someone else <3)