Boyf Riends Oneshots

Tickling is Fucking Gay (8/10 spice)

   "Urgh, it's hopeless," Jeremy sighs to Michael, strewn out across his bed.
   "What is?"
   "Love. Love is impossible!"
   "How so?"
   "Well, first of all, you have to be Cool. Cool people date Cool people. And if you're shy and like a Cool person, like Christine, she won't like you back, 'cause there are Cooler people out there! Fuck my life!"
   "Well, Jeremy," Michael says matter-of-factly. "Maybe love isn't the only thing there is to life. There's family. There's friends."
   "But loooovve." He sighs. "What are the chances that someone will like you at the same time that you like them? People move on."
   Michael doesn't say anything, but he sure wants to. I haven't moved on from you in twelve years.
   "Do you relate, Michael?"
   The fuck he does relate. Liking someone when he doesn't like you back? He wishes he didn't relate.
   "Yeah."
   "How the hell am I supposed to talk to Christine?"
   "I dunno. I thought you already did? (Like in Voices In My Head)?"
   "Uh." He scratches the back of his neck. "Well, that didn't work out..." Jeremy thinks about how fucking sad and disappointed he was when Christine rejected him. And he's not talking about Christine with Michael right now. It's like a pseudonym. (Level up for good vocab.) He can't let Michael know who he really likes.
   Michael cocks his head (in a cute fucking way), wearing a very confused expression. "Sure, dude. Whatever you say."
   Jeremy's face goes red in fear that he'll figure it out. That can't fucking happen. But is he ever gonna tell him? Is he gonna wait for as long as he did to tell Christine? Fucking contradictory feelings.
   Jeremy sits up in bed, assessing his thoughts. He tries to separate his practical thoughts and his fucking Michael thoughts. It's about fifty-fifty. God, if the squip were here, he'd make him do a push-up.
   "You look constipated."
   "Wh-what?" Michael's comment threw Jeremy off guard.
   "You're so deep in thought," he observes. "What're you thinking about?"
   "Uh-er-nothing!"
   "You're not thinking about porn, are you? Because I really don't feel like circle-jerking with you."
   "What?! No!"
   "Dude. It's pretty easy to tell when you're thinking about sex."
   "Really?" Jeremy sighs in defeat.
   "You think about sex a lot."
   Jeremy punches him in the arm (lightly of course, because he's weak), willing him to shut up.
   "I bet you masturbate ten times a day."
   "No!"
   "I should check your search history. The nut police!"
   Jeremy places his head in his hands, sighing in defeat. "Don't check my search history, Michael."
   "So you're admitting to fapping ten times a day?"
   Jeremy looks him dead in the eye.
   "Oh, feisty, are we now?" Jeremy legit gets scared when he sees that familiar glint in his best friend's eyes. He knows what's coming.
   Michael jumps onto Jeremy, sticking his hands under his armpits and tickling with no mercy. (God, this is so gay.) Jeremy laughs uncontrollably, trying to push him away, but to no avail.
   "Noooo!"
   "Begone, thot!"
   Michael easily overpowers Jeremy, because... Well, he's a stick. His kicks and screams have no effect on Michael whatsoever.
   Michael finally stops when he senses Jeremy's death is soon, but he doesn't move off of him. Michael is straddling Jeremy. (Cue Jared.)
   Jeremy's face goes red. (I mean, when is it not red?) "U-uh. Michael?"
   "You really are good with words, Jere."
   "Shut up."
   And he does. (I almost put 'dies' on accident. We don't want that.) He stares at Jeremy blankly, which makes it obvious to him that Michael is in deep philosophical thought. He seems to make a decision and leans down.
   "Jeremy."
   "Y-yes?" His voice cracks in the most humiliating way.
   "You know I'm gay, right?"
Fuck.
   "Yes?"
   Michael takes a deep breath, trying to muster his confidence. He's gone too far to turn back.
   "For you?"
   "What?"
   "You know I'm gay for you, right?" he repeats himself.
   "No?"
   "Well, now you do."
   They stare at each other for a minute, both with red faces.
   "Jere?"
   "Yeah?"
   "Can I kiss you?"
   "Yes! Uhm-er, I mean, yes?"
   Michael doesn't hesitate; he takes full initiative, leaning down and connecting their lips. It doesn't get steamy until Michael can feel Jeremy get hard underneath him.
   "Shit," Jeremy mutters.
   Michael slowly turns it into a make-out session, pausing every now and then to get consent (Consent is sexy? Lingerie is sexy!)  from his bro–no, boyf. His boyf.
   Jeremy pulls away for a second to say, "You're a hot kisser, Micha," but Michael immediately pulls him back into the kiss.
   Michael cups Jeremy's face with one hand, the other resting on his hip, while Jeremy wraps both his arms around Michael's neck, playing with his hair a little bit.
   Michael bites Jeremy's neck, sticking a hand up his shirt and onto his stomach, causing Jeremy to involuntarily buck his hips toward Michael's dick.
   "Shit," he repeats. "Sorry."
   "It's perfectly fine," he smirks, and Jeremy melts. But then he fucking dies when Michael brushes a hand past the bulge (kinky) in his jeans. (*sees bulge* OwO, what's this? r/creepyasterisks) "I assume you have lube?"
   Jeremy sighs. "Of course you'd know."
   Michael gives his signature shit-eating grin and touches Jeremy's peen through his jeans.
   "Agh!"
   "Moaning already?"
   "I-I'm sensitive!"
"You're gay."
"Ha," Jeremy blushes. "Well, that's true."
(They probably have sexual intercourse after this, but it's your choice. I'm still not ready to write something people will be masturbating to.)