Boyf Riends (BMC Jeremy x Michael)

-Two-

A/N I am literally listening to Marley. The groove is pretty gnarley. (LELZ)

*Trigger Warning : Implied self harm*

*Jeremy's P.O.V.*

As Christine drives, she turnes on the radio to a 60's station. A Beatles song ends and the next song is "Is This Love" by none other than Bob Marley. Michael has been trying to get me to listen to this music, and now listening to it, I admit it's pretty good. I get lost in thought about how Michael fangirls about Marley almost daily. It's kind of adorable. Snap out of it! Your are on a date with Christine! I remind myself. God, what is wrong with me? I can't stop thinking about Michael when I am as straight as a... pencil. (A/N You sure about that?) 

We park in a spot relatively close to the Olive Garden's entrance.  Christine grabs my hand and we walk hand-in-hand to the entrance. Her hand is really soft, yet it seems like it doesn't belong with mine.  Honestly, I don't know why Christine asked me out. Christine has a great personality. She's really pretty and not-nerdy. I am the opposite of all of these things. If I fuck this date up, I will never forgive myself. Ever.

A hostess leads us to a booth next to the wine glasses. (A/N If you've been to Olive Garden, you know what I am talking about. If you haven't, I feel truly sorry for you.) Me and Christine both brought fake IDs. We order our drinks first. I order an Air Mail (golden rum, lime juice, honey, and brut champagne) and Christine orders a Blushing Mimosa (orange juice, pinapple juice, grenadine, and brut champagne). 

*time skip brought to you by Bob Marley's gnarly groove*

Christine only drank one mimosa (since she's driving), but I got A TON of refills on my drink. I'm pretty drunk. 

"Jeremy, I think we should get you home now." Christine says with a concerned look.

"I'm tired." I slur.

Christine pays for the meal, puts my arm over her shoulder, and helps me to her car.

"Don't bother taking me to my house," I murmur. "Just take me to Michael's house."

"Okay," She says gently. She reminds me of my mom before she left. That can't be a good sign. 

"You know," I drunkly say, "I really like Michael. Like a lot. He is the best person in the world. He doesn't think so, but I do. He is my FAVWITE pewson. He was nice to me even when I was a dick to him. I wish we could be more than friends. But he doesn't feel that way. He's perfect, I'm not."

Christine seems a little shocked. I bend over and barf in a bush. She hands me a paper bag, gets me in the car, and drives me to Michael's house. She helps me to the door, and then rings the doorbell. 

*Michael's P.O.V.*

 I look at my wrist and become filled with disgust. I wash off the blood before it dries, and clean off the razor blades. I hear the doorbell ring. I become more frantic and quickly put away the blades. I put on my red hoodie to cover up the scars, run upstairs, and open the door. 

"Christine? Jeremy?" I am confused. Jeremy is leaning on Christine.

"Heeeeyyyyy Michaa!" Slurs a very drunk Jeremy.

"Jeremy asked me to bring him here instead of his house," Explains Christine. 

"Alright, I'll deal with it," I say. I take Jeremy so he is no longer in Christine's arms, but rather in mine.

"Well," I say, "Bye Christine."

"'Night Michael." And with that, she gets in her car and drives out of view.

"Micha?" Jeremy slurs.

"Yes, Jerbear?" I ask.

"I'm tired." He replies.

"That, I can fix." I say. I help him to my bed and tuck him in.

"Goodnight Micha." Jeremy murmurs.

"'Night, Jerbear." I gently reply.

"I love you..." He whispers.

OMG I AM INTERNALLY SCREAMING. I go to the basement couch and try to sleep, but I can't stop thinking about what Jer said. I mean, it's probably just because he's drunk. Right? Right. Right?

(667 Words)