GAME OVER: a Be More Chill fic

Level 5

Jeremy locked the bathroom door and began dialing the phone frantically. What was I thinking? I definitely can't handle this! He had excused himself to "brush his teeth and stuff" because he was panicking at the idea of being attracted to anyone other than a girl (other than Christine, really), and needed to talk to somebody. Of course, he couldn't talk to Michael, so he went for the next best thing: Richard Goranski.

Jeremy and Rich had become pretty close recently. After the play, they'd started talking about the Squip and their own reasons for deciding to try it (for Jeremy, it was loneliness, and Rich originally just wanted to get rid of his lisp -- before discovering what else the Squip could do). They'd had a very heartfelt conversation, and from then on they just clicked as friends. In fact, they now texted almost every day. Rich showed Jeremy that he didn't have to be popular to be in good company, and Jeremy helped Rich see that his speech impediment didn't define him or make him any less cool. "It's pretty endearing, honestly," he'd mentioned once. He realized now that maybe this wasn't a strictly heterosexual observation.

"Hello?"

"Rich!" he whisper-shouted.

"Bro, it's like... late," Rich groaned.

"I know, I'm really sorry, but I'm freaking out a little." He realized he'd woken up Rich and kicked himself for being rude.

"It's okay, dude. What's wrong?"

"I..." He wasn't sure, exactly. "You're bi, right?"

"If you're asking me out right now -- "

"No! No, I just wanna know more about it. I'm curious." Jeremy held his breath, hoping he wasn't being rude or too blunt.

Rich was undeterred. "Well, bisexual means you like guys and girls. I see a hot dude, I'm down to fuck. I see a hot chick, I'm down to fuck. Everyone is hot and it's awesome."

He felt a little flustered at Rich's choice of words, but he persisted. "Yeah, I know what it is, but can you... kinda... explain?"

"Alright, it's like this, Jeremy." Jeremy could picture him sitting up on the edge of his bed, ready to ramble. "It's a little weird, I'm not gonna lie. When I get the hots for a girl, I feel like... 'hot damn'. And when I meet a guy I'm into, it's like 'holy shit'. Ya feel me?"

Jeremy thought back to Christine. Whenever he saw her, it set off fireworks behind his eyes. He wanted to hold her in his arms and never let go. He wanted to make her the happiest girl in the world.

He thought of Michael. He'd never let himself believe it before, but when Michael touched him, flowers bloomed in his chest. He felt warm and full of laughter he could barely contain. He wanted Michael to hug him tightly and kiss his forehead and sing him to sleep.

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean," he finally said, shaken.

Rich could hear the anxiety in his response. "Hey, man, if you're bi, that's totally cool," he said carefully. "I mean, lots of people are. It's not bad or weird or some shit."

"Yeah," Jeremy muttered. "Thanks."

"No problem, dude. You can talk to me about it if you want."

"I'll definitely take you up on that later, but Michael is downstairs, and..." He realized too late how suspicious that sounded.

"Oh. Oh!" Rich laughed. "So, Michael, huh?"

"N-no, I didn't say -- "

"It's cool. I'm not picking."

He was furious at himself for blushing so profusely. "Thank you. I... guess I have some stuff to figure out, huh?"

"Yeah, man. It'll work out though, no matter if you're bi or gay or a chick or whatever. It'll work out."

"My dad would probably kill me if I told him I wanted to be a girl," he laughed, though he meant it.

"Worse comes to worst, you can crash at my place, aight? I'll even take you shopping for girl clothes."

Jeremy couldn't tell if he was serious. "I'm not a girl, but thanks. Seriously, thank you." He heard Michael coming up the stairs. "I gotta go."

He hung up, then wet his face to help the blush from earlier go down. He'd been in there a while and he knew it wouldn't look good if his face was all red when he came out -- Michael had already accused him of jacking off one time that day, and he didn't need any more embarrassment.

As he swung open the door, Michael stood there, fist up, about to knock. He had already changed into his pajamas. "Oh, hey."

"Hey, Jer. Whoa, dude, your face is all red. And you were in there a while. And you're sweating." He laughed a little nervously. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, actually," he lied, "I'm... not really feeling very well."

"Oh. Karma's a bitch, huh?"

"Yeah." Jeremy placed a hand on his stomach and grimaced slightly in an effort to be more convincing.

Michael bought it. "Oh, man, it hurts? Lemme check your forehead. If you got a fever I'll get you, like, some Tylenol or something. C'mere."

Jeremy stepped closer. Michael brushed his fingers over his forehead before shaking his head slightly and pressing his lips to Jeremy's temple.

He pulled back. "You're pretty warm, actually. Do you want anything? Like some water, or more Sprite? There's cold ones in the basement." Michael barely noticed that Jeremy was frozen in a shocked and mortified expression.

"Did you just kiss me?"

Michael brushed it off and explained away the incident. "No! Well... kinda? Your lips are more sensitive to heat than your hands. Saw it in a documentary. Anyway, did you want another soda?"

"No, I'm good, I just need to sit down I think." His lie was (ironically) more convincing now that he was shaking like a leaf and blushing harder than ever before.

Michael helped him sit and then sank down beside him. Maybe karma really was coming back to bite him -- he wasn't sick, but the room was spinning and everything seemed a little too warm. It took a moment to realize that it was because Michael was holding him.

Jeremy relaxed into his arms as his mind wandered to the Squip in his sock drawer. He'd never seriously intended on Squipping himself again, but in times like this, when he felt lonely and lost and afraid, it always seemed like an option. Maybe it would be easier to have someone telling him exactly what to do.

Michael rested his chin on Jeremy's head, pulling him from his thoughts. He didn't need a Squip to make him feel loved. Michael loved him. Michael was there.

"I've got you, Jer. You're okay." He rubbed Jeremy's back soothingly. Jeremy closed his eyes and fought tears for the hundredth time that day.

Michael had him. He was okay.