Hurt Me Once- A Boyf-riends fanfiction

Prologue

I'm back! And running out of musicals ideas fast- so far, this is the last one I've got lined up! I need prompts... but I already have too many WIPs... what is writing?

Jeremy

It's not fair.

The thought pops into existence in his mind from absolutely nowhere as Jeremy watches Michael through the window.

Michael doesn't care what people think; well, okay, Jeremy does. Michael can't be pissed at Jeremy for caring. Not fair.

Also, Michael doesn't hook up with random girls. This is uncalled for. Not fair.

Like, what kind of cat-costumed hoe makes out with a loser in the bathroom of someone else's house?

Michael's eyes are red and puffy, most likely because of what just happened between them in the bathroom, and Jeremy feels like shit for saying things already. Things like loser. Get out of my way, loser.

"Seriously," Chloe scoffs next to him, a beer in the hand that isn't on his shoulder, "Who has a window that's in the shower?"

"I- yeah, I know right?" Jeremy laughs weakly, wondering why he can't look away. Something about the way Michael's lips move.

"Jealous?" Chloe teases, and Jeremy starts. Why is she right? Because he knows she is, but now that he's identified this feeling as jealousy, he can't figure out what he's jealous over. "She's pretty hot." Says the girl who just made out with me.

But oddly enough, Jeremy's watching his best friend, not the girl. No she's not, he wants to scream, she's ugly and he's drunk anyways so it doesn't count!

And then it hits him like a flash: he's jealous of the girl. He likes Michael. He wants to kiss his best friend. What the hell?

But he just shattered everything between them. Get out of my way, loser. Michael probably hates him now.

"Let's go inside," Jeremy mutters and as the alcohol fades, the SQUIP turns back on, and Jeremy forgets all about Michael.

Rich

Rich fights his way through throngs of drunk, partying people, his hands shaking almost as much as his voice. "I need mountain dew red!"

At those words, his SQUIP shoots painful shocks down his spine.

Getting rid of me won't change the truth, seductive female voice purrs. God, Rich hates it.

No. No, he doesn't. He loves it. Totally. Completely. Loves. That. Girl's. Voice.

Yeah, who's he kidding. He likes Jake's voice way more.

I can block your bisexuality, the voice in his head adds, but I cannot change it.

"I know, I know, I know," Rich growls out loud, still moving towards the drinks table even though he knows he won't find the discontinued drink anywhere here. "Get the fuck out of my head."

The voice doesn't stop. You'll always be queer. It's never going to change, Rich. It'll always be this way.

The SQUIP makes a clicking noise and suddenly, punch in hand (definitely spiked- Rich tosses it), Rich stumbles, feeling as if a part of him, disappeared.

What way? I'm always going to be what? Rich knows what it means. The terrible ache for- something that he can't have (what was it again?) and the hate he feels for himself (why again?) that makes his wrists hideous with scars he draws with anything nearby.