Musical One-Shots

Jeremy Heere in Girl's Clothes Because The World Needs More Of That

It was Monday afternoon, and Monday afternoon ment Michael,  his boyf, and Richard Goranski sitting in Jeremy's bedroom playing "modern and cool and awesome,  dude" video games because "retro rocks but if you haven't played Splatoon,  you haven't lived. " Basically, Rich was updating their video game knowledge. Of course, they played the regular stuff almost nonstop from Friday right after school until mid-afternoon Sunday when they (finally) started homework. Just Michael and Jere,  just like they used to. At the moment, Michael and Rich were waiting to continue their Splatoon while Jeremy took a piss. Rich was talking crazy shit about finding their friend's sex toys.  

"Come on,  man!  You know his libido,  he's gotta have a fuck ton somewhere!" Rich was saying,  going through Jeremy's dresser before moving to open the closet. 

"Yes. I do know him. I have known him far longer than you. Which is how I know that if you don't quit now,  he's gonna freak. Not like as in,  get mad,  as in,  panic,  because he has some embarrassing shit in here."

Rich opened his mouth and the closet simultaneously, then stopped short on both accounts. "Michael. Like you said,  you know him very well. So do you know why Jeremiah Heere has a rack in his closet dedicated to girl's clothes?"

Michael was also somewhat dumbfounded, but he knew his friend well,  and suddenly remembered every single time recently his jeans had shown off his ass a little too well. "Nope." He shrugged. 

Just then,  Jeremy made an entrance. And Richard. Freaking. Goranski. Said, "Hey,  Tallass, what's with the girl's clothes?"

Jeremy turned red,  pale skin flaming, freckles blaring. "...Its... easier... to... masturbate?"

Rich nodded. "Cool.  Now let me beat you at Splatoon."

And that was that.....for the week. 

**THAT Friday**

Jeremy had hoped that would be the last of it,  but Michael knew him better than to think he would buy anything just to masturbate. So, as they hung in his room,  Jeremy changing out of his school clothes, Michael asked The Question.

"Jeremy why do you really have girl's clothes. I mean it's fine if you don't wanna tell me,  but I am curious."

Jeremy sighed. Every single time Michael said he didn't have to tell,  he was so fucking grateful for the respect of his boundaries that he caved immediately. It was how he'd confessed.  "I like wearing them. They're soft,  if you get the right kind,  and they make me feel pretty. "

Michael smiled a little at that. "Well, " he said,  "would you be interested in a fashion show at my place because I really wanna see you when you feel even a fraction as pretty as you are. "

Jeremy flushed.  His voice cracked as he whispered, "Okay. "

He packed several outfits, some shirts, shorts, jeans, skirts, and a dress because "it's just Micha. Micha has seen me in an ugly Powerpuff Girls girl's swimsuit when Christine dared me. This cannot possibly be worse."

They got in the car and drove,  arguing the point of Crystal Pepsi. 

Once they arrived and ran down to the basement, Michael said,  "Hey you wanna do this now?" He did. And he said so.  So he picked up his bag of clothes,  carried it into Michael's bathroom, and changed into a matching bralet and panties set,  (you couldn't wear boxers with a skirt and Jeremiah Heere did not half commit), a white polo shirt,  and a knee-length pleated skirt. He thought it was a bit crazy,  but was the uniform at most private schools in the area,  and he was curious. He walked back into the bedroom,  blushing,  scratching the back of his neck. 

"So. Yup."

Michael wolf-whistled. "Looking fine,  sexy!"

Jeremy's face flushed even more than should be humanly possible; he stole a pillow off Micha's bed and shoved his face into it. "Shut up!"

Michael only grinned more. "I mean it though. You look great."

Jeremy threw the pillow at him,  hitting him in the face. "Shut– oh shit the glasses are you okay?" He said, rushing over to his riends on the bed. 

Michael, of course,  was fine. Jeremy knew this because as soon as he was within striking distance his boyfriend tackled him. 

And that,  dear reader,  is the story of how Michael's mothers, worried about the shrieks coming from their basement,  discovered their son pinning Jeremy, who for some reason wore a Catholic school uniform,  to the bed with tickles,  the taller boy shrieking with laughter as the shorter chuckled. 

Thankfully they had learned not to question this friendship long ago. 

//AUTHOR'S NOTE//

hey!  So basically what this is is I draw shippy fanart at school,  then come home and write a one-shot for the backstory. So... Yeah.  I read a Jeremy-likes-girl's-clothes fanfic on ao3, drew him in...basically my school uniform during class, came up with a backstory to hopefully get a friend on-board tomorrow, and yeah this is that.  So updates will be very sporadic. 

Later, Cultured Cutlery,

Sincerely,

Me