GAME OVER: a Be More Chill fic

Level 21

Jeremy didn't even bother going home after school that day; he went directly to Michael's, sending a quick text to his father as he did.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about Michael all day, of course. Concentrating on anything was impossible when his mind was so busy -- guilt and love and R-rated images all melted together in a mess of emotions, spilling over the sides of the pot and all over his classwork. Luckily, the Squip was there to supply him answers (though he wouldn't need to if he weren't there to distract Jeremy in the first place).

"If I weren't here in the first place, you wouldn't be with Michael," the Squip interjected as they walked. "I know you weren't paying attention in history today, but much like Stalin and Truman during the Cold War, you and I harbor a deep mistrust for each other. And, like them, we'd better learn to get along before there is some serious fallout."

Jeremy did his best to make his mental voice sound intimidating as he climbed the familiar steps. Stop with the doomsday talk. It doesn't make me want to get rid of you any less.

"Not much will," the Squip replied simply.

Jeremy turned to retort, but the Squip was gone again. He sighed and walked right into Michael's house. He hummed and sang under his breath as he went down the steps to the basement.

"Hmmmmm... they're warm like mittens..." He was about to call out and say hello to Michael, but stopped before he entered the basement's doorway. He heard something coming from inside -- so he put his ear to the door and listened, smiling to himself. Michael was strumming away on his ukulele.

Jeremy turned the knob slowly, determined not to make a sound. He crept into the room and leaned against the wall, eyes closed, enjoying the music for a moment. He learned enough from Music Theory 1 to know that it was something in a major key, though he didn't recognize the song.

That is, until Michael started to sing.

Jeremy had heard Michael play ukulele and play guitar and sing before, but Michael had always known Jeremy was there -- and he held back because of it.

But now, Michael sang as if there were nobody watching. Now his voice was unrestricted by fear, and it flowed through the basement like a river, cool and crisp and clear. Jeremy was intoxicated.

"Hold me close and hold me fast... this magic spell you cast... this is la vie en rose..." Michael was lost in the music. His eyes were closed, lying back against the wall, and he was blissfully unaware of the boy off to his left. "When you kiss me Heaven sighs... and though I close my eyes... I see la vie en rose..."

Jeremy had actually begun to tear up at this point. He'd never seen his best friend so carefree, and he'd never head such a beautiful rendition of La Vie en Rose.

"When you press me to your heart... I'm in a world apart... a world where roses bloom..." Michael paused, took a deep breath, and sang the next part acapella.

"And when you speak, angels sing from above... everyday words seem to turn into love songs..."

At the high note, Jeremy came completely undone. He brushed the tears off his cheeks, and sniffed.

Michael heard him and nearly dropped his ukulele. He whipped his head around to face him. "Wh -- Jeremy!" He set the instrument down safely on the carpet. "How -- how long have you, uh, been standing there?"

Jeremy didn't reply, and instead ran full force at Michael, tackling him to the floor and peppering his face and neck with kisses like an overexcited puppy. Michael laid there, laughing, as Jeremy struggled to get a word out between each little peck.

"Michael -- I -- love -- your -- voice," he eventually managed to say.

Michael turned his head at just the right moment to catch Jeremy's lips on his own, giggling into the kiss. He sat up so that Jeremy was on his lap. Their hands intertwined like two pieces of a puzzle.

"I love you, Jeremy Heere."

Jeremy buried his face in Michael's neck, smiling and blushing like crazy. "I love you too, Michael Mell. A lot." He looked up at him. "You know," he added, "you were actually, uh... you were the first person I did anything besides kissing with."

"Really?" Michael mused.

"Really," said Jeremy. "I think... I think it's because you're the only person I've trusted enough." A question burned at the back of his mind, one he knew he shouldn't ask, but couldn't help himself. "Was I your first, too?"

Michael coughed and shifted his eyes. "Well, uh, no, actually..."

"Who?" Jeremy backpedaled as quickly as possible. "I'm sorry -- I -- I didn't mean to pry, you don't have to answer -- "

"No, no, it's okay," Michael laughed nervously. "Me and Rich kinda had a thing freshman year. Nothing serious."

Jeremy blinked. "Rich Goranski?"

Michael couldn't read his expression, so he assumed that Jeremy was angry with him and panicked. "We're totally over it now, I swear, it's done, and if you want me to stop hanging out with him I totally understand but -- "

Jeremy burst out laughing. "No, no, you're fine, I believe you. I just can't even imagine it."

Michael laughed along, relieved. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, it's just not something I would've guessed in a million years," Jeremy shrugged.

"Well," said Michael, leaning back down so he was lying on the floor again, arms under his head, "it was a million years ago."

Jeremy lay down on Michael and snuggled into his chest like a pillow. He let out a contented sigh. A hint of mischief crept into his voice. "So, you and Rich, huh? Paint me a word picture."

Michael didn't even flinch. Without missing a beat, he replied, "Well, there's this one thing I always did that Rich loved -- "

Jeremy nearly choked on air. "Michael! I was joking!"

Michael grinned. "I know."

"You're unbelievable."

"I know." He wrapped one arm around Jeremy and used the other hand to stroke his hair. "And you're a disgusting teenage boy."

"Rude." Jeremy settled into Michael again. "But I forgive you," he hummed.

"You'd forgive me for murder if I played with your hair after," Michael scoffed.

Jeremy couldn't argue with that, so he didn't bother, instead closing his eyes and relaxing into the affection. An idea occurred to him. "Michael?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you -- will you sing for me? Please?"

A long pause followed. Jeremy was just about to say something when Michael finally cleared his throat and began to sing softly.

"Wise men say... only fools rush in... but I can't help falling in love with you..."

The boys fell asleep just like that, on the floor, in each others' arms -- both happier than they'd been in a long time.