(Remember: None of these one-shots/drabbles are linked together unless stated/hinted at otherwise)

1: Introduction

Worn sneakers, over-sized sweater, an innocent face and a dweeby attitude. Mike had no idea what he was in for.

2: Night

It used to be a time where Mike could collect his thoughts, or Jeremy would have free time to actually have a hobby. Now, it was a dilemma. Torn between hating the dangers of the dark, and loving who was standing with them in it.

3: Bite

Jeremy slammed the locker, gritting his teeth as Mike laughed in the background. "This is your fault! I can't go home like this!" He yelled. "How am I going to explain this to my mother?"

The guard could hardly catch his breath, "So? It's just a little cut..." He shrugged. " It's not that bad..."

Jeremy frowned, pointing to his mouth. "There are teeth marks in my lip, Mike"

4: Reflection

Mike stared into the mirror, glaring at the lining stitches. The consequences of the past was enough, but the constant reminder every morning was going to eventually send him over the edge. His hand clenched into a fist, briefly considering breaking the reflection away until a smaller figure appeared in the mirror, giving a child-like smile and holding up a marker.

They ended up drawing goofy faces and pictures all on the glass.

5: 69%

Jeremy felt a tap on his shoulder, looking up from the dark hallway. Mike sat beside him, snickering to himself as he ushered the nightwatch closer. "Jere, look" He chuckled, holding out the tablet. He pointed to the power gauge. "69% percent"

"Mike no"

6: Ice Cream

There was a tiny, little, hardly noticeable creamy white smudge of vanilla on the corner of Jeremy's mouth. He only took another lick of his ice cream, oblivious to the spot . Mike's eye twitched.

"Hey Jere, C'mere for a sec"

Said nightwatch turned to face the guard, freezing when something wet roughly ran over his closed lips. The teen paled, staring in shock as Mike leaned back, wiping his mouth. "Better"

7: Cheater

"How could you?" Jeremy wheezed, "I trusted you!"

Mike only snorted, grinning as the teen threw down his cards, crossing his arms and giving a pout. "You're just a sore loser," He chuckled, making sure to keep his key play hidden in his sleeve.

8: Bandages

Sometimes, his stitches will fail him, and even the slightest drip of blood or stretch of skin could be either a simple annoyance or an onslaught of pain. Despite years of practice, Mike's never truly gotten the hang of taking care of himself. So it wasn't much of a surprise when Jeremy began to bring a tiny first-aid kit with him everywhere, just in case he needed to play doctor again.

9: Boat

Chirp crawled out of the vents, dusting her self off and looking up, giving Mangle a nod of the head as she passed. "Funny one, ye are..." The mass of wires called out. "Gone to spy on the scurvies, yet ye never catch em'..."

She was given a shrug."It's called shipping" The chicken retorted. The pirate peeked to attention, endo head giving a grin. "Shipping, eh?" Chirp nodded, a mischievous shadow over her face. "Yeah, though I warn you; they're sailing different seas then what you think"

Mangle leaned down from the ceiling, an interest coiling in her features. "Surely thar ain't a sea I can't conquer, bird. What be the title?"

Chirp giggled. "The Sea of Gay"

10: Mistletoe

Taking a sip of his hot chocolate, Mike nudged Jeremy from behind. "Hey, dweeb" He caught the teen's attention. "Thanks...uh, for inviting me to your...holiday party and all" Mike looked away, giving a sheepish shrug. "I mean, I know it's a family thing and all but...uh..."

Jeremy smiled. "No one should spend Christmas alone, Mike" He reassured. "I-I'm glad to have you here...My aunt's been wanting to meet you anyway-"

He cut short as something small and leafy was thrown between the two, landing in Mike's cup. They paused, staring at the floating mistletoe before look down, just in time to see Jeremy's cousin give a ferret-like squeal and scutter into another room.

Mike blinked. "You're family's weird"

11: Tradition (Continued)

A set of footsteps sounded from behind them. "I heard that, you two.."

Turning to meet the voice, Mike gave a warm smile. "Uh...Hey, Mrs. Fitzgerald..." He mustered. Jeremy watched as the guard back-peddled, rolling his eyes. "Hi Mom..."

The woman set two hands on her hips, a criminal smile gracing her cheeks. "I hope you two aren't breaking tradition. That's quite rude, especially for a guest, you know" She stated, eyeing Mike with intent. The security guard froze. "What tradition?"

She pointed to his cup, Mike glancing down. "...Oh"

An audible gasp came from Jeremy as realization smacked him. "H-hey, um..." He sputtered, looking to remove himself from the situation. "Why don't I help Auntie with the c-cookies? You guys can get to know each other..." He took a step towards the family room, only to be pulled into a swift embrace.

Jeremy paled as Mike's free hand wove around to cup the back of his neck, gently pushing him forward to meet him in a short, sweet kiss.

He could barley register his mother's approving praise as Mike pulled away. A smile of equal satisfaction ran over their faces, amused by the deeping red on his own. His mother gave an elegant laugh. "That's not really mistletoe, boys"

Jeremy's face flushed and Mike's grin dropped. "...What?"

"Your cousin tricked you..." She smiled. "I watched her break a leaf off the Christmas tree a few minutes ago"

12: Midnight

Mike would often find himself counting the seconds as the clock ticked on. Alone in his apartment, he'd watch the clock tick towards midnight and ask himself if it was too late to rush over to the pizzeria. Just in case.

13: Umbrella

Rain poured as Mike stood cold and unmoving, a sneer plastered on his face as he waited for the bus. Hands in his pockets, he inwardly cursed the car dealership a special place in hell for towing his truck, offering nothing more than a bus ticket as compensation.

A shadow loomed above him and the soft patter of the rain stopped. He blinked, looking to his side. Jeremy gave a smile, ushering the umbrella out for him to take.

14: Acceptance

Jeremy's mother pretty much figured it out before her son even did, catching the subtle signs and little notions the teen would make with the security guard. Hard to notice, really, but becomes plan as day as soon as you spot it.

Her sister, Jeremy's oh-so-lovely aunt dissaproved of the development. But regardless, she still couldn't find herself to be against the affection. Mike was a good man, she thought, and she would trust him with her son no matter what history he seemed to have. After all, marriage is about starting a future together, not to drown in the past.

She sat with a wide, proud smile in the front row as the vows were spoken.

15: Lesson

Mike rose his hands to his chest, fist curled in an aggressive stance. "Always keep your arms up. You can't give them an opening."

Jeremy nodded weakly, attempting to copy his movement. The guard frowned as the teen positioned, looking more like he'd shrunk into himself than preparing to throw a punch. "That's just going to make you look like a twat" He walked behind Jeremy, reaching out and taking both wrist in his grasp.

"Keep them in front of your face, just lowered a bit" He corrected, "Make it firm. Try not to flinch."

Jeremy bit his lip, trying to adjust to the order. "L-like this?"

He felt an encouraging pat on the back. "Better than where we started, I guess"

A pout rolled over the teen's face. "What's that supposed to mean?" Mike shrugged, pivoting around to his front. "It means you'd never last in a fight, but you could probably beat a hamster if you wanted to" He grinned.

"W-what?" Jeremy stuttered. "I-I would never hurt a hamster, Mike!" He frowned, watching the older man give a snicker. "Besides, cut me some slack. I've never done anything like this before..."

Mike gave a smirk in agreement. "Yeah, no kidding. I could probably knock you out in the rink, first round" The teen stepped back with wide eyes, flushed with embarrassment. "You've had practice!" He retorted. "It wouldn't be fair-"

"Hell no it wouldn't" Mike interrupted, pointing a proud thumb back to himself. "I was the star athlete in collage before I dropped out. Ruler of the rink, ya know? Nobody fucked with me, Jere" He boasted, chin held high and arms crossed, feeling quite pleased with himself.

Jeremy gave a look. "I can tell"

"...The fuck that's supposed to mean?"

The teen's stance faltered. "It means I'm nothing like you." He mummered. "I've never thrown a punch in my life, Mike. I've always run away or...just let it happen..." He trailed off, looking down at his shoes. "I have no clue how to defend myself"

Hands took his wrist and pulled them upwards, back into offensive position. Mike gave a smirk, determination written across his features. "That's what I'm here for, right?" He chuckled. "I got faith in ya, dweeb. Yeah, you're not as strong as me, but you're faster. Smarter too. Motherfucker's will never see you coming..."

He watched the light seep back into green eyes before pausing. "Also, repeat that to anyone and I'll deny it. Not kidding."

Jeremy giggled. "Whatever you say, Mikey"

Mike sighed with relief, taking a step back. "Alright, let's get back to it" He raised his arms in defensive position. "Give me your best shot"

16: Promise

Everyday she was getting worse. Everyday, Jeremy had to watch her put on a mask of confidence and certainty, going about her business as if nothing was wrong. Treatment was intensive, but it only provided a short term answer. The long term solution was a goal he worked hard to reach, getting a little bit closer with every shift. Though, he often asked himself that once he had made enough money, would it have been too late?

Jeremy kept family matters on the down low, not wanting to cause any unnecessary drama or bring anyone into the situation. He would fix this himself, he thought. He didn't need anyone's help. His mother would agree with him, keeping the secret just among themselves and the doctors. He knew she'd choose the best course of action if it ever came to it. She was his mother, after all.

But what he didn't know was how she called Mike one late evening, with him working away at the pizzeria.

"We need to talk" She said, gripping the phone. "It's about Jeremy"

The tension on the other end of the line grew as she explained, only ever responding to ask if she was still there should she have taken a breath. The conversation went quiet as she finished, soaking in the silence.

"...Why tell me first?" Mike finally asked. "He's your son"

"Because I trust you, Micheal" She would answer. "And so does he"

Mike grimmed, staring at the floor as he ran through the sentence. He was not the kind of man do favors, especially ones of great effort. But even if she hadn't of called, there wasn't a doubt he would have done it anyway. A sense of determination rose in his chest.

"I'll take care of him."

He heard her breath in relief. "Thank you"

17: Remote

One of the biggest fights they've ever had was over what to watch on TV. It ended up with Jeremy locking himself in Mike's room and the guard having to sleep on the couch that night, mumbling to himself how the dweeb practically owned his apartment now.

18: Cold

"G-geeze, I-it's c-cold..."

Mike watched with dull interest as Jeremy shivered, huddled up in a bundle of scarves and sweaters. His eyes trailed up, spotting the missing key feature. The snow drifted around them, settling in the teen's hair.

Floof

Jeremy froze as something soft and warm enveloped his head. He rose a hand to touch it, a familer fabric under his fingers. He turned to Mike, shocked to see an absence of a beanie. Mike pulled his hoodie up, covering his head and shadowing his face.

"Don't shed on it, dork"

19: Color

Mike was a man of many colors, and it wasn't just his language we're talking about.

Shades of gray, blue and red ruled his wardrobe. Simple, non-attention grabbing clothing; like plain jeans, or an old sweatshirt. His apartment wasn't running for best crib on the block anytime soon, but it was a comfy faded maroon theme, fitting well with the run-down paint job his beloved truck dawned. At first look, he was not a man who valued vibrance.

But if you asked, he'd claim his favorite color to be a vivid green.

20: Why?

"I-I don't understand..."Jeremy stuttered, staring up at the guard with wide shock filled eyes. "W-why would you say something like that?"

"...Because it's the truth"

Mike's palm twitched in his pockets, keeping still as he watched the younger male wither in front of him. "I wanted you to know-"

"But why?!" Jeremy cut off, taking the man aback. "H-how could this happen? I-I thought you..." He choked back a sob. "I thought you said..l-love was...worthless..." A heat rose to his cheeks. "Now y-you're telling m-me...." He trailed off, a hitch in his throat.

Silent, Mike tried to keep a neutral face. "I was wrong" He muttered. "You proved me wrong"

Jeremy shook his head, frantic. "I-I just don't see...how..." He rose his arms and put his hands to his temples, shutting his eyes and gripping his hair. "After all this time..." He sputtered, looking down at the ground. "I-I'm not enough, Mike"

"You're all I need"

The teen only squeezed his eyes tighter. "N-No! I'm not!" His voice sounded throughout the room, echoing in their ears. "I'm not brave like you...I-I can't socialize right...I'm c-childish and clumsy and...b-boring..a-and...and..."

"Jeremy..."

The teen flinched away from the outstretched hand, a panic rising in his chest. "Can't you see? There's nothing special about me! I'm not funny, not brave, n-not..." His eyes shielded, he didn't need to see to know Mike's reaction. Silent and observing, handling the situation with great care. Jeremy shuddered. "I can't give you what you deserve..."

A warmth surrounded him, reducing his ramblings to nothing more but fading whispers. Arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him into Mike's chest, Jeremy's hands gripping his shirt. The guard said nothing, quietly brushing the ends of his hair.

"I'm not enough..." Jeremy sniffed. "Why would you love me?"

"Because I couldn't find a reason why not to"

21: Math

Mike gave a groan, his head falling to the desk with a thud. He threw his pencil to the side, tossing a stack of papers to go along with it. "This is so fucking stupid..." He mummered against the wood. "This shit's too hard..."

Jeremy face palmed, sighing to himself. "I'm trying my best to teach you" He paused, before giving a soft, encouraging smile. "I promise algebra isn't that hard once you get the hang of it..."

"The alphabet needs to get their shit together and stop fucking with numbers..."

Rolling his eyes, Jeremy reached out and grabbed the papers, settling them neatly in a stack. "...learning algebra will help with budgeting, you know..." He reasoned. "I-it's helpful...You could have some left over money for things you'd like to do!" He held a cheerful tone.

Mike glanced up with half-lidded eyes, giving the teen an impressionist stare. "If you're suggesting I think you're suggesting, then I'm all for it"

Jeremy blinked. "...uh...and what would that be?"

"C'mon" The guard stood up, pushing his chair back in. "I'm taking you somewhere"

With a confused expression, Jeremy stared at the man. "....but I still need to teach you algebra-"

"Sure, whatever...just teach me over dinner. My treat." Mike met the teen's shocked gape with a shrug, reaching in his pocket for keys. "What? You said you'd teach me to save money for shit I wanna do, right?" Unsure how to answer, Jeremy only nodded.

"Good, let's get to it then"

22: Trust

"Do you trust me?"

Jeremy hesitated. "I don't know yet"

"Too bad"

With a small tug, both men went spiraling into the water; Jeremy screaming and Mike laughing as the brunette hopelessly clung to the older man.

Needless to say, Jeremy was never going to rope swing with Mike ever again. He was sure there was still some trace of lake weed stuck in his trunks somewhere.

23: Playmates

That night, Jeremy left his little sniveling cousin in the care of his co-worker, whom seemed none too enthusiastic about the favor. As he left for work, he could feel the tension shift, as the air would prepare for a storm. Shaking the worries from his head, he bid them goodbye and walked to work.

That morning, he found them draped over the couch; the living room and kitchen looking equivalent to a war zone. Jeremy frowned, stepping over the sleeping child and walking to Mike, eyeing the crude drawings scrawled carelessly on his head. He spares his cousin a glance, noting the sharpie marker still in her hand.

Mike looked up and groaned. "She started it"

24: Bully

Once, Mike found out Jeremy was being hassled by a couple of teenagers, no older than the nightwatch himself.

He was just taking the trash outside the restaurant, not too long from closing time when he saw figures standing outside in the dark. One smaller, familer one stood out from the rest. Suspicious, he inched closer, holding just enough distance to keep himself hidden.

He over heard their conversation: "Hows the closet today, fuckboy?" One would laugh, "Gets a little scary in there, doesn't it? Is that why ya going to play with cuddly animals now?" The group would snicker, watching the brunette back away.

"I-I'm not-"

"Can it, faggot. Fuck off and play with your dolls" The biggest would smirk, elbowing his partners in crime. Jeremy pressed his lips together in a thin line, turning on his heel and walking into the restaurant.

They watched with amusement as the nightwatch retreated, unaware of the looming threat around the corner. Hearing the sound of cracking knuckles, they whipped around, staring at a not-so-happy security guard. With a gleam in his eye, Mike grit his teeth.

"Wouldn't ya know nobody likes a couple of assholes?"

The next morning during class, Jeremy raised a brow as the group of bullies walked in late, each of them sporting a pretty nasty injury. They gave him a fearful glance as they moved to the far back of the room, keeping far away from the brunette.

25: Childhood

Jeremy watched as Freddy backed down the hallway, one arm raised to shield his eyes from the lights. Another flash and the bear was gone. A snort sounded from beside the nightwatch. "About time" Mike mumbled, flipping through the cameras. "Maybe I'll mop the floors before our shift next time. Give them a little trip"

Jeremy remained silent as the guard snickered, a thought circling in his head. "...Do you ever wonder what it's like?" He asked, checking the vents. Mike raised a brow. "Like what?"

"Being them"

Rolling his eyes, Mike shrugged. "Who cares? They don't feel anymore"

"...They didn't have a childhood" The teen continued. "Kinda like you"

Mike opened his mouth to retort, but found h himself shutting it. Although the comment was meant in a friendly fashion, the reality check hit the man like a brick. He slumped in his chair, stopping his tapping and looked up from the screen. Bonnie was making his way down now, Mike greeting him with an sympathetic look. "Yeah," He said, "Kinda like me"

26: Sing

Jeremy laced his shoes, unplugged the tablet and shut his locker. He worked with the mask's straps as he hummed a familiar tune.

Mike had gone home for the day, as did everyone else, leaving the teen alone with nothing but an hour to spare. The room's tight space echoed his voice, amplifying the melody. Little by little, his soft hums turned into lyrics, a soft but pleasantly audible music.

Little did he know, there was a certain security guard outside the door, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, a hint of a smile on his face. Listening.

27: Cinnomen

Mike coughed a sputtered, glaring at the victoriously smiling nightwatch. He made note to never do the cinnomen challenge with Jeremy ever again.

28: Shampoo

Jeremy's shampoo scent was a mystery.

He wouldn't smell what the 'manly' brands would advertise; a flood of strong tart that choked you soon enough. But it was 'girly' either. He didn't smell like lavenders, or ocean breeze, or whatever bullshit name printed on the labels.

No, Mike thought. It was a comfy mixture of both. Hair of cherry and autumn acorns.

29: Addiction

Behind Fazbear's building, Mike stepped out into the fresh air, reaching inside his pocket and pulling out a small box. Without a second thought, he plucked a cigarette out and stuck it between his teeth. He brought his lighter to his mouth, igniting it and taking a breath, blowing clouds into the air.

A noise of disapproval sounded from behind him. "...W-what are you doing?"

With half-lidded eyes, Mike turned around to see Jeremy hoisting up a large trash bag, barley able to swing it into the dumpster. "Those things will kill you..."

The guard shrugged, leaning against the building. "Like I haven't heard that one before" Inhaling the fumes, he mindlessly blew in Jeremy's direction. The teen coughed, scrunching up his nose and waving away the smoke as he walked closer.

"C-could you stop? Please?" He asked, twiddling his thumbs. "Smoking isn't good for you..."

"You don't think I know that?" Mike snarked, "Besides, quitting is easier said than done..."

Jeremy watched as the guard rolling the cigarette between his fingers, eyeing the tobacco thoughtfully. "...Maybe you could find something else to replace it?" He trailed off. "Y-you know, to distract yourself from the urge..."

Mike pressed his lips together in a thin line, pulling the cigarette out from his teeth. "Oh yeah?" He blew a cloud into the wind, careful to make sure it didn't flow into the nightwatch's direction. "And what's your suggestion, hm?"

The brunette shrugged. "...a hobby?" He paused. "Uh...you smoke to relieve stress right? Find something that does that too..."

"Listen, dweeb" The olderman gave a dull look, taking another drag. "I don't have anything like that. I've been managing fine, anyways."

"So...no quitting?"

"...Not today, Jere"

A pang of guilt rose in the security guard's chest as a look of weary disappointment flooded the teen's face. The burning cigarette's ashes dropped to the ground, Jeremy watching the embers die as he stood in defeat. Slowly he stepped forward towards the guard, the older man raising an eyebrow in question. "...What?"

The teen opened his mouth to speak, but Mike cut him off. "Listen, I know the risk, ok?" He sighed. "It's my decision. Quit pestering me about it-"

"Are you sure there's nothing?" The teen asked, staring the cigarette down with disgust, "Nothing at all you like?"

"..."

"Mike?"

Blue eyes locked with green, analyzing each movement they seemed to make. Mike's hand twitched, an itch forming in his throat. He shook the feeling away, flicking the cigarette's ashes away.

"...I can think of one"

A light shined in Jeremy's eyes? "R-really?" He chimed, pleased with the development. "What is it?" The older man's lip's tugged upwards into a tired smirk. "It's a secret"

The nightwatch frowned. "Lame, Mike" He commented, pouting as the guard gave a low chuckle. "What? You really want to help me?" He taunted. Jeremy held his unamused look, but gave a shy nod of his head.

"Good. C'mere for a minute"

Jeremy furrowed his brows, suspicious, but obeyed noneless. Suddenly, Mike leaned forward, catching the nightwatch off guard. Their mouths connected in a short, sweet peck before he pulled back, watching as the teen flushed red.

Jeremy's eyes were wide, his mouth left open in a gape. "T-That...H-how was that going to h-help you?!" He stammered, the red of his skin flowing up to the tip of his ears. "T-that was uncalled for, Mike!" His hands curled into shaky fist.

Said guard laughed as Jeremy punched his arm. It didn't hurt, but he manganged to fake a betrayed reaction anyway. The teen bit his lip, cheeks aflame. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stomped back inside the restaurant, not daring to look behind him.

"What's wrong Jeremy?" Mike called out, mocking him. "You look a little burned!"

Fazbear's backdoor swung back and slammed loudly, leaving him in the cold.

He gave one last chuckle, bringing the cigarette up to his mouth for a drag. He stuck it between his teeth and inhaled, eye's going wide as an unfamiliar sensation flooded his lungs. Pulling it out of his mouth, he held it away from himself as he coughed the toxins out, a look of shock painted on his face.

A baffled look glared down the tobacco, sparing a glance towards the door. He put a hand over his chest, a feeling curling up in something that didn't feel like his lungs. Strange...

Mike licked his lips, staring at the cigar once last moment before crushing it between his fingers. He took the full box out of his pocket, tossing them both in the dumpster as he walked back inside Fazbear's.

30: Insomniac

Sleeping was a constant uphill battle. A war waging between blinking lights and rotten thoughts. He doesn't remember how long it's been going on; a couple years maybe? His whole life? It didn't matter when it began, he doesn't care anymore. He just wants it to stop.

He learned to cope after a while, found excuses, procrastinated, pretended it was morning in the dead of night, all in hopes his weakling mind would give and allow him an hour or two of shut eye. Occasionally, he got lucky; he'd be too drowsy or hurt before to remember the next morning, but the change was refreshing. Then night would turn up again, starting the cycle once more.

But tonight, as Mike lay with a sleeping Jeremy tucked around his arm, he finds it very easy to drift into a calm void.

31: Time

"Why is that so important to you?" Jeremy asked, strapping on his work shoes. "D-did someone special give it to you?"

He pointed to the item in question: the same worn, wrongly configured wristwatch Mike always seemed to tote around with him. Said security guard hesitated, eyeing the tiny hands as they ticked towards midnight. Shutting his locker, he sighed. "You could say something like that..."

32: Hands

The first time they held hands, Jeremy shyly inches forward, slipping his fingers into the guard's palm. Mike's reaction was less than favorable; an irritated sneer, tugging his hand away from the nightwatch.

The nightwatch didn't have time to dwell on the rejection, however, as a arm snaked around his waist, holding him against the olderman as they walked. The wrapping limb intertwined fingers with his opposite hand, fully enveloping the guard. Mike smiled. "This is better"

33: Drive

The whiplash hurt, swinging his head forward to slam against the dash. Luckily, a hand shot out, holding him back and preventing of what could have been something nasty. He could hear Mike call out his name. A stream of curses flooded from inside the truck, the driver both in panic and anger.

"Fucking son of a Bitch!" Mike swore, leaning across the seat. Jeremy clutched his head in pain, another pair of hands cupping the sides of his cheeks in worry. "Fuck, Jeremy...Are you alright?"

Said nightwatch blinked the fuzz away. "I-I'm...fine. What about you?" Mike eyed him for a moment before sighing relief. "I'm good" Looking past the windshield, Jeremy stared at the vehicle in front of them. "I-is the other driver alright too?" He asked, exhaling as a burly man stepped out of the wreck, giving a glare to the both of themselves

Mike ground his teeth, stepping out of his truck. "Not for long"

34: Late (Continued)

Jeremy sat unamused in the passenger, watching as the scene unfolded in front of him. Mike was currently busy as it was, giving the poor soul a piece of his mind. Glancing at his phone, he frowned at the time. If they stalled any longer, they'd be late for work.

A punch was thrown and Jeremy face palmed as the fight began.

35: Nicknames

The nicknames Mike gave Jeremy were getting more and more ridiculous as time passed by:

"Yo, dweeb"

"Sup, nerd"

"Hey, short-stuff, come hold this for me!"

"Mornin', dorky"

"The hell are you wearing, Weeboo?"

"You're holding it upside down, Fucksgerald"

"Hey Midget...Got plans Friday?"

"Looking good, Blushies""

"I can still see you, Bambi"

"You alright, Cheerio?"

"C'mere, Floofy"

"Good work, Jerebear"

"I love you, dumbfuck"

Jeremy ponders on these names as Mike sneaks up behind him. He grins, leaning in to whisper in his ear "Ello, love"

The nightwatch jumps with fright, frowning as Mike bursts into laughter. Jeremy sighed. "Nice to see you too, Mutt"

36: Mother's Day

Mike's fingers tightened around the bundle, hesitating as he stared down dimly at the headstone. With a sigh, he gently sets the roses on her grave, dusting off their shared last name as he rose.

The crunch of leaves sounded behind him. "Hi, Mike..." Jeremy mummered, staying a foot or so away from the guard. "...How are you?"

The olderman breathed shallow for a moment, lost in his memories. "Fantastic, Jere"

Guilty, Jeremy wrung his hands together, looking away. "Uh...M-my mom and I were going out to dinner later..." He began, "She want's to know if you'd like to come too..."

Surprised, Mike turned towards the teen, raising a brow. "Y-you don't have to, of course!" The brunette quickly added. "O-Only if you want to!"

Blinking, a soft smile curled on Mike's face. "I'd love that, actually"

37: Balloons

Jeremy face palmed as Mike snarled, the sound of a child's laughter repeating in their ears. Balloon Boy laughed at their misery, happy with how the guards were nothing more than sitting ducks now.

He held his sadistic smile as Mike pulled open a drawer, a grin of his own forming on his features. Jeremy eyed the action. "...What are you doing?" He asked, raising a brow as the olderman pulled out a sharpie. Mike shrugged. "Engineering, obviously."

Later that night, BB retreated into the vents as the security guard laughed, the nightwatch nagging him as he did so. Chirp met him halfway through the walls, not surprised as to how she had an obstacle, but to what the enragement child dawned. "...Why do you have dicks drawn all over you?"

38: Cat

Mike wrinkled his nose as he watched the kitten curl on his co-worker's lap, rising to playfully butt the nightwatch's chin. "...I bet it's got fleas or something."

Turning to the guard, Jeremy put on a pout. "You've been acting weird ever since I brought her in..." He pondered, "Do you not like cats?"

The security guard shrugged, glancing down to the hand used to softly pet the creature. Said kitten lay spread out on Jeremy's shirt, propped up to give him a smuggled glare, the hint of a smile on it's whiskers.

Mike restrained a jealous bark as it snuggled deeper into Jeremy's comfort. "I'm just saying it might have rabies, dude"

39: Breaking The Rules

He's made it very clear to himself and anyone who gave a damn that any kind of affection, passion or 'love' was something he wasn't interested in. Never has been, and never will be. And then Jeremy happened, and he's got Mike rethinking all kinds of decisions.

40: Horror

Mike cursed as he was pushed from the building, Jeremy following close behind. The teen crashed into the guard's back just as the door behind them slammed them away. Gritting his teeth, Mike turns to steady the brunette, glaring at the building. "Whatta couple of assholes..."

Jeremy shook his head, puffing his cheeks out in embarrassment. "Y-you're the one that got us kicked out!" He huffed. "We didn't even get a refund!"

Mike shrugged, much to the teen's annoyance. "So? It was a sucky haunted house anyway. Fazfuck's is scarier" The nightwatch rolled his eyes at the statement, dusting himself off. "Maybe...B-but you didn't have to punch one of the zombies...."

41: Goof

Fritz watched from across the room, arms crossed and a thoughtful look across his face. He heard a shuffle beside him, signifying there was another in the audience. Management raised a brow at the scene, staring at the security guard and nightwatch. "...The hell are those do doing?"

Shrugging, Fritz turned back to the pair, smiling as Mike playfully thwacked Jeremy's forehead. The guard chuckled as the teen flushed. "Oh, that?" He mused, "That's just Mike marking his territory"

42: Sick

Despite his mother's wishes, Jeremy still came to work, sniffling and coughing all the way. His speech was slurred and slow, his reaction time suffering the same symptoms. But even so, he waved the illness off and told Mike he'd be just fine. A little cold won't stop him, he said.

Mike pulls the blanket up higher on the small form as he checks the cameras, making sure his face is covered in case any animatronic decides to pay a visit. Jeremy sits in his lap, passed out and drooling on his shoulder, the occasional sniffle here and there. Mike can feel the fever radiating off the nightwatch. He makes note to nag him about it later.

43: Remains

It's been exactly two weeks since Mike went missing, and one week since Fazbear's introduced their new animatronic.

Jeremy swallows nervously as the mutt stood guard in the hallway. It sat at the entrance of the office, angled where no other animatronic could pass them if they tried. Even Mangle couldn't crawl over the dog, her wires and cords hooked by the canine's teeth.

Once, Foxy made a run for the nightwatch while he was preoccupied with the music box, sprinting down the hallway, hook outstretched for the kill. Jeremy dropped his tablet with a scream, awaiting his fate.

To his surprise, it never came. Instead, metal crashed to metal, razor blade teeth puncturing holes in an already torn torso, effectively ripping the fox away from the teen and dragging him back down the corridor, where he was flung back into the darkness, not to be seen again that night.

Then the dog would return to his station, never sparing Jeremy a glance as he kept watch, growling at any movement his inverted eyes could spy.

Tonight, Jeremy was humming to himself, unaware of how the dog's ears had peeked to listen to the melody. He twirled the phone cord around his fingers, musing to himself. "...I miss you, Mikey"

The mutt tilted his head as his eyes turned a familiar blue. His tail began to wag.

44: Drowning

This was absolutely one of the worst times for Mike to blank. There honestly couldn't be any worse time than now, just none.

Jeremy dove into the water, swimming deeper into the depths. His eyes stung and his arms were sore, but the fear in his heart outweighed the burn in his lungs. He spotted Mike, eyes wide open in a blank stare as he sunk, his memory to swim and breath both gone.

The nightwatch sprung forward, wrapping an arm around the guard and kicking back up to the surface. He gasped for air as he balanced Mike on top of him, making sure to keep his head above water. By the time they were back on solid ground, it was looking too late for security guard.

His lip quivering, Jeremy tired to collect himself. Panicking wouldn't help the situation; he had to remain calm at all cost. Quickly, he placed his hands over Mike's chest, pumping the stilled heart. "...Please, Mikey..." He leaned down and gave his breath, rising up to continue CPR. "Y-You promised..."

Suddenly, Mike twitched to life, springing up and spewing a mouthful of water. Jeremy gave a shaky sigh of relief as the guard recovered. "Fuck...." The olderman heaved, leaning on the teen for support. "Am....Am I alive?" He asked, coughing up the last of his lungs. Jeremy breathed in equal pace with the guard, rapid rythem slowing. "...are you?"

Mike paused, back to himself again. He turned to Jeremy with tired, worn eyes. Then, he reached forward and pulled the teen towards him, breathing in his scent as they hugged. "I am now"

45: Chicken

Jeremy flinched as he heard a slam behind him. He turned around, surprised to see a fuming security guard, clad in his lazy wear, kicking down the door with enough force to pop off a hinge. Wide green eyes tracked the bolt that rolled across the floor and gaped. "M-Mike! W-why did you..." He paused, eyeing how the guard held an aggressive expression. "Uh...D-didn't you go home...already...?"

The guard only snarled, a rumble coming from his chest. He stomped up to the nightwatch and harshly grabbed his wrist, dragging him out of the locker room. Jeremy whimpered as he was tugged along. "W-what are you doing!?"

"Something stupid"

They stopped in front of the stage, a few minutes before midnight. Mike clenched his fist together before clasping the sides of the nightwatch's face, the teen squealing at the action. Blue eyes glared at the toy chicken. "Fucking watch me"

He roughly brought their faces together, in a sloppy, squished kiss. Jeremy flailed at the movement, their noses pushing against each other awfully. Leaning back, he pushed away. "What the hell, Mike?"

The outburst went ignored, the guard turning his back on him. He pointed to Chirp accusingly. "This Kentucky Fried Fuck thinks I'm a wuss," He sneered, "Thought I wouldn't do it, didn't cha?" Spinning on his heel, he stalked away from the stage, muttering to himself as he approached the front doors. "I'm going home. Good fucking night"

Jeremy watched his retreating back with red cheeks until the door slammed angrily behind him. Frozen, he turned back to look at the animatronics, a hitch in his throat as they stood posed and staring at his figure. His hands rose to his face, feeling the heat against his palms. Stuttering, Jeremy turned tail and ran back inside the locker room.

Chirp remained still until the teen was back inside to tilt her head towards the other band members. BonBon and Fred gave her a wide eyed look, both of them equally confused. Giggling, she winked. "Told ya so"

46: Impersonation

"Look at me! I'm Jeremy Fucksgerald! I'm a short, dweeby dork who doesn't know how to cut his fucking hair!"

Jeremy self consciously blows his bangs out of his eyes as Mike laughs. Embarrassed, he take a deep breath as he prepares his retort.

"H-hey! I'm Mike S-Shit! I'm a big, dumb brute who doesn't know how to work a c-coffee maker!"

Mike paused, squinting at the nightwatch. "Well played..."

47: Carnival

Jeremy swallowed as he looked down at the fairgrounds below, small as ants now. He shuddered as the Ferris wheel cranked forwards, stopping with a lurch as they reached the top. "...M-maybe after this we go play some g-games..." He stammered, trying to keep himself calm. "I-I don't think I wanna ride a-anything else tonight"

The figure who sat beside him raised a brow, slumped in their seat and fully relaxed. "How come?" Mike asked, "You scared of heights or something?" He looked out at the views, smiling at the carnival below them. The lights were beautiful at night.

His gaze rolled over to Jeremy, a array of colors reflecting off his skin. The lights weren't the only beauty, it seems. "No...I just ate, that's all..." The nightwatch defended, curling against the safety bar. "I'll get sick if I r-ride anything, you know?" He giggled nervously.

The security guard gave a thoughtful 'hmm', his expression unconvinced. Then, a devilish grin broke out on his cheeks.

Jeremy froze as the Ferris wheel seat began to rock back and forth. "W-what's happening...?" He scooted to the middle of the cart. With his heart racing he looked to the guard for comfort, only to be shocked. "M-Mike! What are you doing?!"

Said security guard had his feet kicked up to the support bar, leaning back to shift his gravity backwards. "What?" He chuckled, moving his legs forward. "I'm just having a little fun..."

Jeremy felt his stomach churn as they were slowly rocked forwards, goosebumps covering his skin. "T-This isn't funny! Stop it!" He squealed as his body slipped from his spot, sliding him to the railing. "M-Miiiikeee...."

A frantic hand reached out and firmly grasped the security guard's chest, fingers digging into the fabric as Jeremy clung to him, fearfully squishing himself against the older male. "Pleasestopohmygodweregoingtodiemikeplease"

Shrugging, Mike gave the seat another rock, chucking as Jeremy screamed and buried his face deeper into his jacket.

48: Couch

Exhausted, Jeremy headed straight for the couch, not caring of the disapproving look he received as he plopped down onto the cushions. Giving a big yawn, he plumped forwards, snuggling into the warmth.

There was muttering and the sound of shuffling behind him, probably just Mike annoyed at how his couch was once again claimed by the nightwatch. Suddenly, a weight dropped on the teen, covering him with an 'oof'.

"Meep" Jeremy would mumble, muffled by the cushions. "...Meep" Mike would snark, his tone heavy with fatigue.

49: Coma

A orange glow burned through his eye lids and send a seering pain through his head, but he couldn't find the energy to lift his arms to sheild himself from the lights. The sound of a heart monitor beeped in his ears, loud and annoying. With the numbing sensation in his limbs slowly fading, Mike's fingers twitched, checking to make sure he was still alive. Better yet; awake.

Finally, he took a deep breath through the mask and pried his eyes open, glancing around. A tuff of green caught his eye and he tensed as feeling came back fully to his hands, signifying there was another set of fingers intertwined with his own.

Jeremy's head rest to his side, one arm curled around for his pillow, the other extended to Mike's own. Careful, the security guard reached up and dislodged the breather from his mouth, setting it aside. He pulled his hand out from under Jeremy's palm, placing it on his head and rubbing his thumb over shut eyes.

Emerald eyes blinked awake as Mike smiled. "Morning, dork"

50: Forever

Mike frowned as he watched the happy couple, one down on their knees as they happily purposed to their lover. It was stupid, something sappy and sickening that made him want to gag. Besides him, Fritz nodded with approval as Jeremy smiled in delight. "H-He's purposing, right?" The nightwatch mused. "They look very happy with each other."

Fritz shrugged, eyeing them both. "Not the way I would have done it...but yeah, yay for them." He grinned, whipping out his phone to take a picture. Probably for snapchat, considering his social tendencies.

The crowd around the lovely couple grew bigger, cheering as they surrounded the newly engaged. Mike's lips rose upwards in a sneer, unimpressed. "This is fucking lame..." A few heads turned to stare disapprovingly at his comment, to which the guard spared no mind.

"Marriage is pathetic. Like, you gotta put a ring on someone's finger to give them permission to make you happy?" Mike scoffed. "Ridiculous."

Fritz raised a brow and Jeremy frowned, sharing looks of equal confusion. "It's commitment, man" Fritz retorted, "Your tieingyourself to someone who truly makes you happy, ya know? Like a chick-flick movie" He added, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't that be what 'friends' are for, Fritz? Or do they just laugh at the wedding as you throw your life away?" He snarked, stuffing his hands inside his pockets. "Real friends don't let their best friends get married..."

Both older males scoffed at one another as Jeremy stood quietly, thinking to himself. "If you have to invite your best friend to your wedding, you're marrying the wrong person, Mike" He gave a warm smile, watching the couple embrace.

With a sigh, the nightwatch turned away from the two. "I-I'm going to get back to work before management finds out we've been slacking off..." He waved himself away, pushing through the crowd until his tuff of brown hair couldn't be seen anymore.

Mike stood still, open gaze locked onto the teen's retreating back. Fritz furrowed his brows at the behavior. "You were right, Schmidt. He is a nerd..." The temp worker commented, "Jeremy aughta be one goofy bride, wouldn't he?" He chuckled, looking towards the guard for a reaction.

To his surprise, Mike only gave a thoughtfully 'hmm', staring off into the direction Jeremy disappeared to. Then, with a wave of his hand, he dismissed himself. "I don't know..." He mummered, "Maybe we'll find out"

-

It's my birthday tomarrow, March 8th. I'm turning 16.

The amount of support and love I get from you guys make me so happy I can't put it into words. You don't know how grateful I am to have you guys. Thank you.

*ahem* I'm thinking about turning some of these drabbles into fully fleshed out one-shots, so whatever is liked the most will be written first. oklolbye