Boyf riends one shots

Patchwork Part 1

I walked nonchalantly to Jeremy's basement bathroom, making sure to close and lock the door behind me. Pulling the glinting treasure out of my red hoodies pocket, I mentally cursed at my poor timing. My best friend was sitting in the room beyond that door, choosing a movie in my absence. I stared at the razor blade as I moved it around in my hand. Sighing, I knew the deed had to be done. It was a really bad habit that I just couldn't stop. Ever since Jeremy began dating Christine, I'd felt pangs of jealousy. Now, I didn't hate her or anything! Don't get the wrong idea. I just...Didn't like them as a pair. Pulling my red sleeve up, I stared at the patchwork of cuts that I called my skin. They ranged from barely visible white scars, to pink raised lines, to deep red gouges. I lifted the blade to the middle of my arm, and I began to press down. After I thought it was deep enough, I pulled the razor to me in a fast, swift motion, cutting deep into the skin. I watched with a deadpan expression as the crimson liquid rose up and flowed from the open wound. Before I knew it, one became two, two to 8, 8 to 20, and 20 to 50. Blood covered my entire arm, and dripped onto the floor. Just then a booming knock sent me flying out of my daydream land.

"Hey Michael. You alright Dude? You've been in there for a while."

I looked at the bloody mess I called my arm.

"Yeah man, I'm good. My stomach just hurts a bit, but I'm fine."

"Oh...Alright...Well, I picked the movie!"

"I'll be out in a minute Jeremy!"

I heard footsteps receding as I quickly turned on the sink, running water over my still gushing cuts and winced slightly at the all too familiar stinging sensation. After they stopped bleeding, I reached under the sink and grabbed the bottle of cleaner and a rag. I quickly cleaned up the blood on the floor, then stuffed it in my hoodies pocket, I'll toss it in my bag, where he won't see it. He can't see it. After pulling my sleeve back down, and taking a quick glance in the mirror, I walked back out Into the basement. Jeremy was already seated with popcorn and ready to hit play.

"You feeling alright Michael?"

I just nodded, opening my bag, chucking the bloody rag into it, and sitting down next to him. We began watching a classic. Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho. Released in 1960, it made 15 million dollars in the box offices. (RD-I didn't have to google it) Every time something creepy happened, I heard a whimper/squeak come from Jeremy. Thinking instead, I hardly paid any attention to the movie. I thought about Christine and Jeremy, and felt sick. Why?! Why Michael? You've never had a problem with friends dating before! I thought. Probably because you're flaming gay for the guy sitting next to you. I snorted slightly, laughing at my own thought, but Jeremy was too immersed in the movie to notice. But then, I started to think more. Am I? I looked over at the brown haired boy I spent most every day with. I studied his perfect, godly features, and thought about his sunlit smile. A blush rose to my cheeks.

  FUCK. I'm gay for Jeremy fucking Heere. My BEST FRIEND in the whole fucking world.

I turned away, embarrassed, Thankfully, the room was dim enough that Jeremy wouldn't have seen me turn into a walking, er, sitting tomato. I yawned as the movie droned on, still earning the occasional shriek from Jeremy. Even though I kinda felt like a dick, I still chuckled at him. During the infamous shower scene, Jeremy grabbed my arm with eyes as wide as the damn moon, and held on to me. I would have blushed if he didn't wrap his arms ON MY CUTS. I bit my tongue trying SO. HARD. Not to scream or give any any signs that he was hurting me. Yet, engrossed in the movie, he saw nothing. Not until the end did he loosen his grip. Instead of letting go, he just tested his head on my shoulder, and fell asleep. Damn I wanted to kiss him. Before I knew it, his head was in my lap. I intertwined my fingers into his fluffy floof. After a bit, the silence at the end of the movie was filled with the soft snoring of Jeremy. A bit later, I lifted him up and carried him to his sleeping place. I was going to walk away, when there was a small, "stay..." blushing, I laid down next to the brunette. He, probably asleep, flopped his arms around me. There was no way he did that on purpose. I faced him and ran my hands through his soft chestnut hair, playing with it a bit. GOD ITS SO DAMN FLUFFY. Jeremy hummed slightly though his deep sleep. God I am so gay. I really wanna kiss this boy. As my breath slowed, I let the gentle grip of sleep overtake me.

Jeremy P.O.V

I woke up with my head buried in Michael's chest, and my arms wrapped around him. I almost jumped away, blushing hard, but I didn't want to wake him up. Instead, I just pulled my arms slowly away and started to go upstairs to get breakfast. Although, as I got up, I noticed Michael's sleeve was pulled up a little. There was a strange patchwork of markings along his wrist. Looking closer, I saw they were cuts. Hundreds of cuts littering his wrist alone. I pulled his sleeve back farther, and exposed the quilt of scars and cuts. Tears stung the very corners of my eyes and two or three rolled down my cheek. About 100 or so of them were fresh. Like, within 24 hours fresh. Others looked years old. Before I knew it, I was sobbing. My best friend, EVER, has been scaring himself for YEARS, without me knowing. My best friend, cut himself in MY BATHROOM, just 20 FEET AWAY from me. How could I have not seen this.....