Boyf Riends (BMC Jeremy x Michael)

-Six-

*Jeremy's P.O.V.*

"Well, see you later, Christine," I say.

"See you," Christine replies.

There are still fifteen minutes left of lunch. On my way back to the cafeteria, I feel a tear roll down my cheek. This is it for me. Being Christine's boyfriend helped me keep the closet locked. Now that the closet is unlocked, anybody can open it, and force me out. 

I head to the table where Michael is sitting.

"You okay?" Michael sounds concerned. I wipe my tears away.

"Oh, I'm fine," I lie. Michael doesn't look convinced.

"Are you sure?"

"No," I sigh. I let a few more tears slip out. Michael pulls me into a hug.

"Do you want to skip next period?" Michael whispers.

"Yeah," I whisper back. I wish this hug would last forever. Sadly, Michael releases me from the hug. 

*Michael's P.O.V.*

Jeremy and I walk out of school and to my P.T. Cruiser. He looks so forlorn. I just want to grab him by the shoulders, look him in the eyes, and tell him how much he means to me. 

I hold open the shotgun passenger door for Jeremy. He gets in silently. Tears continue to roll down his face. I make my way to the driver's seat, climb in, and start driving.

"Where are we going?" Jeremy adorably asks.

"My house," I answer.

"What about your parents?" Jeremy queries.

"Mom's on a business trip and Mother's working late," I reply.

"Oh," Jeremy says.

I drive until we reach my house. Jeremy lets a few tears slip out on the way. I have to resist the urge to reach out and wipe them away. I stop the car in the driveway of my house. Jeremy and I walk into my house together. 

"Do you think we could go upstairs to your room instead of the basement like usual?" says Jeremy.

"S-sure," I say. In all the years Jer and I have been friends, we have rarely hung out in my room. I lead the way.

*Jeremy's P.O.V.*

I follow Michael up the stairs. When we reach his room, he holds the door open for me. We walk into his room, and I am immediately greeted by a Bob Marley poster. There's also a David Bowie poster and a Panic! At the Disco poster. 

It's been years since I've even been in Michael's room. It has a record player, a CD player with a built-in cassette player, and a TV. There are records, CDs, and cassette tapes scattered on the desktops and dressers.

"Impressive, huh?" Michael sarcastically remarks.

"I didn't know you like Panic! At the Disco," I say.

"Yeah," He casually replies.

"How have I not known this?" I gasp.

"There are lots of things you don't know about me, Heere," Michael mumbles. I pretend I didn't hear it.

"What'd you say?" I ask.

"Nothing," Michael says. Hmmm... Suspicious... Oh, wait! I forgot to google what "Mahal kita" means. I pull out my phone.

"Whatcha doin'?" Michael asks.

"Googling something," I reply with my eyes still on the phone. I type it in google translate. And the phrase is- drumroll, please- ...I love you? Ugh, this is why people don't trust google translate. Still, a part of me hopes it is right.

(Word count: 527)