Player Three (Boyf Riends)

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A/n: First of, this probably won't be consistently updated until I'm done writing the Treebros fanfic, so it might take a while.

This is a boyf riends story! Please let me know what you think (my first BMC fanfic)! I really love these two precious dorks. I'm going to be switching POVs whenever I feel like it.  I'm trying out first person again :)

Michael☆

One word: Mondays. Monday morning at six, one of the worst places to be. I actually wanted to just crumple up into the little ball and sleep for the rest of the day. Get up, Michael.

I sighed and reached for my phone and glasses. Ten minutes before I was supposed to be at Jeremy's.

I walked into the bathroom and eyed the mess of a boy staring back at me through the mirror. Ew. What was my hair attempting to do? I grabbed a brush and tried to fix it. It didn't matter. I always ran a hand through my hair when I was nervous, and I was nervous at least once a minute.

I slipped into my signature red hoodie. That hoodie had been with me through thick in thin and I was surprised it had survived this long.

Jeremy had given it to me for my thirteenth birthday. Back then, it had practically drowned me, being too long and wide in all the wrong places. I remembered glaring at Jeremy as it sagged around my arms, to which he responded optimistically, "You'll grow into it." I had grown into it quickly and it fit perfectly now. Not to mention it was really soft and warm. Over the years, I had stuck several patches onto the fabric. Most of them featured retro games, but a couple were souvenirs. There was a particularly...colorful one that I had been considering adding to the assortment for at least a year, but I was too scared that someone would ask me about it. So, for now, the rainbow patch stayed on my bedside table, where it'll probably stay for a while.

The hoodie was also long-sleeved and good for hiding in. Sometimes people just need to hide.

I looked at myself in the mirror again. Much better. I shot myself finger guns. I'm such a dork. Then, with a minute left, I bounded out the door and down the block to Jeremy's house.

I didn't bother going in the front door. Instead, I crept around to the basement and snuck through the window. Jeremy always left his basement window open, as did I, in case one of us was having family trouble. It usually turned out to be me sneaking into his basement at 2 AM in the morning, ears still ringing from my parents' argumemts. But right now it was useful.

I landed on the floor clumsily and then screamed, "JEREMY HEERE ARE YOU HERE?"

I saw a lump in the corner roll over and groan, "Let me sleeeeeep." The lump curled up in his blanket, but was unhappily surprised when I yanked it away from him.

"Not until you say you're Heere," I demanded playfully.

"I'm Heere, Michael. Now give me my blanket," Jeremy turned to finally face me.

His brown hair had five ridiculous cowlicks and he had bags under his pale blue eyes. He still looked cute. Shut up, Michael.

I tried to hide the slight tint to my cheeks. "Wake up, goofball. You said we were going to beat level nine of Apocalypse of the Damned before school."

Jeremy jumped up and ran to turn on the console, "That's right!"

"Oh?" I teased him. "I thought you were sweepy." (A/n: not a typo, it's like when Michael says favowite pewson.)

Jeremy stuck out his tongue at me and grabbed the controllers.

When will you stop having these romantic thoughts about him? He's your best friend!