Boyf Riends

Jeremy's POV (Finally!)

(Sorry in advance if the POV changes too much)

(Edit: Never mind fam we're good)

(Jeremy's POV)

"I-I have to go," I declared, a bit too loudly. The girls giggled to themselves quietly as Michael threw his head onto the table. "T-Thanks for having me, Christine."

"Oh! Sure. No problem," she smiled softly.

I grabbed my stuff and looked back at the table where everyone sat. Michael suddenly perked up, startling Jenna.

"Jeremy! Why don't I go with you?" he asked, giving emphasis to each word in a semi-robotic fashion. "I should be on my way anyway, we might as well leave together. I could drive you."

I was quick to shake my head "no". The chance of me leaving with him in this situation is the same as a snowball's chance in Hell.

I had just realized I was in love with him that day.

I kissed him for the first time that day.

He confessed his love for me that day.

I had an erection because of him that moment.

However, I wanted- no, craved Michael. I wanted to have him lie down on top of me, feeling his weight sink down, and drift off under the warmth of his sweatshirt. I wanted to lean my head on his shoulder as he rubbed my thigh and we listened to calm music and did nothing else, just admire each other's presence.

"Actually, sure," I finally said, my voice cracking. "I want to talk to you, anyway." That last part slipped out unintentionally.

We said our goodbyes to the girls and walked over to the Cruiser.

Before we got in, we could both hear something coming from the window on the side of the house. We inched a little closer in hopes that we could hear what was happening.

"F-Fuck J-Jake. Mmh.~"

We quickly headed over to the car.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Shit.

"Uh, I just wanted to say that, um, that was pretty crazy. Everything that just happened. In the past two hours."

Michael laughed. This did not help my lower situation.

"True. It's almost book-worthy."

"Who would read a book about us? We're not even that special."

"Might I just remind you that you kissed me, Mr. Heere."

"I prefer Mell, thank you very much," I almost said, but didn't.

"I, uh, didn't mean to!" I tried. He just chuckled again.

"Sure."

"What, did you not e-enjoy it?" I asked, growing slightly scared that I wasn't good enough.

"What? N-No, I j-just, um," he stopped and returned his focus to driving.

"You just what?"

"I had no idea that you might like me back," he muttered.

We sat in silence. I looked over at him, his hair being blown back by the wind. He looked movie-worthy.

"Here's your stop," he finally said as he pulled up into my driveway. I thanked him and stepped inside my house.

I raced upstairs. A book? Would Michael like book?

I found an unused notebook from last year's school supplies. What type of book? Like a diary?

I grabbed a pencil off my desk. Could I show him my diary? Could I write every day and not forget?

I sat down. It's worth a shot.

Hey, diary. I guess this is worth a shot.

Boy, what happened today? Main thing is that I'm hard. And I don't want to admit it, but I'm probably going to jerk off to a picture of my best friend.

It's not my fault he's hot.

Also, I kissed him. He pulled away though.

I want to kiss him again. Properly.

Knowing me, though, "properly" is not an achievable goal.

He likes me though!

He likes me!

helikesmehelikesmehelikesmehelikesme

That feels good to write.

What else can I write that feels good?

Jeremy Heere? Nope.

Gay? Homosexual? Nope, nope.

Michael Mell? Ooh, that feels nice.

Jeremine? I think I just found the material necessary for the 5th sentence.

jereminejereminejereminejereminejereminejeremineimjeremiahandmycrushmichaelsaidhewantstocallmehisandhesaidjereminejereminejereminejeremine

Is it normal to squeal uncontrollably?

Okay I'm gonna go take care of a specific business. Refer to sentence five.

Jeremiah Heere

I added the date in the top corner and closed the book. That felt good, no, great. I'm glad I did that. Michael has such good ideas.

"J-Jeremine," I panted out.