AN- some spoilers for the It movie but nothing major.
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For @EddsworldFan
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I'm standing on Michael's doorstep, rubber boots on my feet, a raincoat over my shoulders, and armed with an umbrella.
"Jeremy? What are you doing here?" He questions me, opening the door not but five seconds after I've knocked.
"Wanna go splash in the puddles?" I ask, gesturing behind me, where a quiet and pleasant rain has been brewing for the past few hours.
Michael's confusion melts away into what I can only describe as the most adorable laughter I've ever heard in my entire life. His face lights up and his eyes get all squinty and his voice is like church bells; it's gorgeous.
"Let me go put on some shoes," he says, turning around to go do so. I wait where I am not because I'm a polite guest and I wasn't invited in, but because Michael's mom just got the floors redone, and she would actually kill me if I tracked anything in the house.
Michael comes back about two minutes later, dressed similarly to me. "Let's go," he says and runs outside. I follow suit and we begin splashing around like children. I kick up some water and accidentally douse Michael.
"Oops...?" I offer, shrugging my shoulders.
"Oh, you're dead, Heere," Michael says as he takes a few steps back. He runs forward and splashes as much water as he can at me, soaking me to the bone. "You're on, Mell," I smirk and throw water at him. Michael jumps back in a futile attempt to not get wet, but fortunately for me (and unfortunately for him), when he jumps back he lands in a mud puddle and falls back. I can tell he's not hurt, despite landing flat on his back, due to the huge grin on his and the laughter escaping from his lips. I can't look at him cackling madly while rolling in the mud without letting out my own airy laugh, which eventually turns into some sort of thing where I'll snort because Michael just looks so dumb and then I'll gasp for air because oh yeah, that's a thing I need.
Once I collect myself, I go to help Michael back to his feet, but he smirks. He pulls me down with him, and I land face first not in the mud but face first on Michael (specifically his slightly pudgy stomach, which I adore). "Hey, graceful," he says and I look up at him. He's gazing down at me, looking completely and utterly in love, and I can't help but swoon. The romantic moment is snapped in half when Michael shoves me off and into the mud next to him, which ultimately backfires on him because when I land in the puddle, a good amount of grime is splattered onto his face, yet magically avoids hitting his glasses. I snicker as he tries to wipe it off his face, but only smears it in more.
"Karma, bitch,"
"Shut up, you dick,"
"Love you, Mikey,"
"Love you too." He pauses. "Dick."
"Michael, we all know you love my dick,"
My joke is far-fetched, but it still makes his face blares red. "Sh-shut up! You know what I meant!"
"Do I?" I ask, before falling into a fit of laughter once more, now clutching at my stomach.
Yeah... we aren't above dick jokes.
Michael jumps to his feet and offers his hand to me. "Don't pull me down. 'Cause if I land on you, I'll snap you in half, you beanpole."
"Touché,"
He helps me to my feet and the rain is pouring so hard at this point, the mud on us is washed off in a matter of seconds. Michael looks upward and opens his mouth, trying to catch some water in his mouth. Once he gets a satisfactory amount, he swallows and glances over at me. "Dude, are you not gonna get some?"
"Nah," I shake my head.
"Aw, come on! Why not?"
"I had a dream once that I tried to catch rainwater and then a bird shit in my mouth 'cause it was wide open."
"Jere, what the fuck."
I shrug. "And now I'm paranoid it's gonna happen in real life,"
"I guess you learn something new every day, even if that something is that your boyfriend doesn't wanna catch rainwater with you because he doesn't want a bird to drop dookie in his mouth."
"Anyway," I force myself to say. "Wanna go race sticks down the little stream?" I ask, picking up a small fallen branch from who knows where and snapping it in half. I shove one-half in Michael's hands and run over the curb where a collection of water is running down the slightly sloped road.
"Oh sure," Michael says, walking over to me. "Why don't we go make a paper boat, label it the S. S. Jeremy, have you let it float down the stream, meet a fucking clown in the sewers, get your arm bit clean off, and then get devoured by said clown?"
"What an oddly specific situation. Let me go run down to the basement to grab some wax. The boat's gotta float," I smirk.
"Shut the fuck up, Jere. You know horror movies scare the shit out of me."
"But you're the one who wanted to go see It!" I counter.
"See what?"
"See It."
"See what?"
"See It."
"See what?"
"See- never mind." I sigh and roll my eyes. "You're impossible."
"But you love me."
"Touché. Again." I lean over and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Let's go race shitty sticks and get eaten by a clown-alien-monster thing."
"Let's,"
We drop our "boats" in the water on the count of three and follow them for about forty-five seconds before they both fall into a sewer hole thingy. We stop ten feet in front of it.
"Fuck that," Michael says, and turns around and runs the other direction. I'm half tempted to follow him, but I'm also tempted to go check it out.
Michael quickly notices that I'm not following him and comes back for me. He grabs my hand and tries to pull me along, but I decide to be an asshole and move toward the scary thing from a horror movie. Michael's not having any of it, so he legitimately picks me up, throws me over his shoulder, and heaves back the house. It takes all over my willpower not to start laughing. I break when he says, "I swear to god, you have a death wish or something."
Once we hit the front porch steps, Michael sets me down and says, "You're an idiot,"
"Yeah, but I'm your idiot,"
"True,"
He glances over at me and sighs contently. "God, you're gorgeous,"
"Says the literal definition of beauty,"
"I love you, ya dork,"
"Love you too, nerd,"
"Wanna screw around in the rain?"
"I'm always down to screw," I wink.
"Oh my god," Michael burns red for the second time in less than an hour. What can I say? He's adorable when he's flustered.
"But yeah," I take his hand and lace our fingers together. "Let's go splash around in puddles."
"Like when we were six?"
"Just like when we were six,"
Michael breaks off of my hand and sprints over to the biggest puddle he can find and jumps a solid two feet in the air, making a huge splash. I shake my head and laugh, but then go and do the same.
We keep at it for a few minutes, but our fun is interrupted after we're both drenched and lightning snaps off in the distance, followed by a crack of thunder. Michael is unfazed by it, but I, on the other hand, begin to panic. What if the lightning strikes one of the puddles we're messing around in and electrocutes us? What if we get hurt? What if Michael gets hurt? What if-
"Jeremy? You okay?" Michael breaks my train if thought once he notices how tense I am.
"Uh..." I trail off. "I'm just scared... that's all."
"You wanna go inside?" He asks, pointing over his shoulder to his house.
"Uh, well, I mean... kinda, but I'm okay. We can stay out here if you-"
Another flash of lightning and crack of thunder appear in the distance cut me off.
"Let's go inside," Michael says, looking a little frightened himself.
Once back inside, Michael and I take off all out rainwear, hanging it on a hook and letting the water drop in a bucket we put underneath it. We quickly run to the bathroom to fetch towels for ourselves. Once we get them and properly dry off, Michael leans up against the bathroom counter and I do so against the wall; we unintentionally sigh in synch.
"So..." he trails off. "Now what?"
"Uh..." I say intelligently. A large boom in the distance makes me yelp and flinch. "Wanna make some cocoa?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Michael beams and skips like the child he is into the kitchen where he's sure the cocoa packets are. He has to stand on his tip-toes to reach the cabinet where it's tucked away, but once he sticks his hand it, his face falls. "Houston, we have a problem," he says, staring at me wide-eyed.
"What is it?"
"We..." he pauses, probably for frantic effect. "We don't have any cocoa mix,"
I don't hesitate before dropping to my knees and "sobbing" in "agony".
"Why?! What have we done to deserve this?! Why, cruel world?! Why?!" I end my impromptu antics by falling backward and draping my hand over my forehead.
Michael starts madly clapping. "Woo! It was so beautiful, so detailed, so wonderfully done, so wow!" He praises my "work" and then insists that I'll be the next Ben Platt.
"Dude, that's offensive to Ben Platt. I don't have those kinds of vocals."
"True, but then again, no one has those kinds of vocals," he points out.
"Yeah, my singing voice is-"
"Beautiful, wonderful, amazing, spectacular and the bomb.com."
"Well, if that's me, then your voice is like... right beside Ben Platt's level of skill."
"Bro, I'm not that good."
"Shut up, yes you are."
"Jeremy, I-"
Michael stops talking when the lights started flickering. "What the...?" he mumbles to himself. All of the power in the house goes out, and I shriek for two reasons: one, I was not expecting that, and two, god damn am I scared of the dark, and this dark is pitch black.
"Michael?!" I call out, moving around, bumping into everything.
"Jere, I-"
I can hear him, but I can't see him. That's never a good thing. "Michael!" I shout, and then something grabs my shoulder, so I scream.
I'm gonna turn around and it's gonna be that fucking clown and it's gonna eat me. This is it. This is how I die.
Then a light turns on. Specifically, a light from Michael's phone turns on. Apparently, it's actually Michael's hand on my shoulder. I visibly relax and sigh.
"I legitimately thought I was going to get eaten by Pennywise or some shit."
"Yep. I'm actually Pennywise and I look like Michael because he's your worst fear!" He opens his mouth as he can and leans in closer and closer and as soon as he's less than an inch away from my face, he closes his mouth and kisses me.
I break out into a lovestruck grin. "I'm horrif- AH!" I jump when lightning flashes outside and is quickly followed by an immense clap of thunder. "I do not like storms," I mumble.
"I can tell. In fact, I've known since the second grade when you came over to spend the night for the first time and it started storming and you flipped all of your shits."
"All of my shits?" I ask.
"All of your shits," he confirms.
"Good to know."
The storm outside rages on and Michael and I find ourselves in his room (because there is no way in hell we're going into the basement), the covers on his bed pulled over our heads, and our only source of light being our phone's built-in flashlights.
"So..." I trail off. "Now what?"
"We wait for the demons to come consume our souls," Michael says casually, and I give him a look. "Or we could sleep until the storm's over," he adds.
"I like that option much better." I smile at him, but I still flinch when thunder rumbles.
Michael lays down and opens his arms. "Come on, Jere."
I make myself at home, curled up close to him. He turns off his phone's flashlight and goes to turn mine off but I stop him.
"Do you... do you think we can keep mine on?" I ask nervously.
Michael offers a soft smile. "Of course," he says and wraps his arms around me. God, it feels great to be loved.
"And don't worry," he pipes up. "I won't let any demons get to you." He pauses.
"Or clowns."
"Shut up, you nerd," I say.
"Never," he replies.
"I love you, Michael."
"I love you, too, Jeremy."
I fall into a peaceful sleep, feeling more content with life than I ever had before.