102: Burn

Jeremy hissed as the stove's flame leapt to his fingertips, retracting his hands as quickly as could. He bit his tongue as he observed the burnt skin, the tip of fingers darkening into a unhealthy shade of purple. The worst part wasn't that it was still stinging, but that it was on both of his hands. He sighed; this was going to be difficult to bandage.

Startled by the distressed cat noise, Mike appeared from the living room, coming to stare over the night watch's shoulder. He spotted the burns and frowned, prying open a drawer as he searched for a first aid kid.

Although unspoken, their communication was flawless. Jeremy silently leaned against the counter, sucking on one hand's fingers to relieve the pain. He inwardly groaned as he realized there was nothing he could do but to let his other hand singe, like little needles sparking through his finger's nerves.

Suddenly, his wrist was gently taken and held away from him. Jeremy raised a brow at the action, going red when an neutral-faced Mike promptly stuck his fingers between his lips, the sting fading by the second. Blue eyes were glued to his own occupation, working to tear open a small pack of burn cream while the brunette stilled in front of him. Awkward as it was, he made no move to remove himself.

Jeremy felt his own cheeks beginning to burn as Mike casually wetted the sting away.

103: Hair

Mike was careful as the blade glided just above the brunette's forehead, snipping strands from his bangs. The night watch sat still in front of him, huffing as the security guard cut his hair. "I don't see why you have to d-do this...."

The older man simply snipped another piece, blowing the cut strands clean from Jeremy's face. The brunette pouts as breath hit his skin, only for Mike to playfully swipe his forehead. "I wanted to see your eyes, dork"

104: Movie

The first time they went to a movie together, Fritz had invited them. It was a mixed genre film, an action horror thriller or something. Mike wasn't too enthusiastic about the idea, but when he figured Jeremy was excited to attend, he grumpily tagged along.

Fritz ended up chickening out at the last minute, leaving the two of them alone. Though, his absence was hardly an issue; Jeremy was clutching Mike's arm in fear too much to notice and the guard was laughing too hard to care.

105: Seeing

Jeremy could see them every now and then; the children, he means. Sometimes they would ignore him complety, hovering around the animatronics as the clock ticked towards midnight. Other nights they would acknowledge his presence, surprised that he could see them, but pleased noneless. The animatronics never stopped trying to stuff him,but they were certainly lighter in their efforts to do so. On some rare nights, they would make harmless playfully gestures to one another, their responses the only only thing convincing him that he wasn't really crazy.

Mike raises a brow as Jeremy giggles, a transparent figure making silly faces just above the security guard's head.

106: Sparklers

The sky had darkened much quicker than any of them had anticipated, but it wasn't such a negative tonight. Fritz worked to light the fireworks while Jeremy unstrung the sparklers. Mike was busy tuning his watch, ready for the new year's countdown.

"Mike, look!" Blue lazily roamed over to green, raising a brow at the nightwatch's actions. Jeremy smiles as he waves the sparkler's light around. "T-this is you!" With a warm glow casting glee on his face, Mike watches as he draws a picture in the air.

He guides the light to make a circle, swirling two eyes and sharp smirking teeth for the mouth. The grumpy looking face lingers for moment before fading in the wind. Jeremy giggles as Mike's expression remains neutral, seemingly unimpressed. "I can do better" The guard mutters, "This is you"

Mike leans over, takes the sparkler from Jeremy's hand and draws a big, glowing heart between them.

107: Pick Up

The surprise on Jeremy's turned comical as he spotted the familer truck parked out I front of his school building. Glancing around nervously, he quickly steps to the vehicle, avoiding other students scattered around the campus yard as the final dismissal bell rang.

Mike casually leaned against his truck, smirking as the night watch scuttered up to him. "W-what are you doing here?" The brunette questioned, grasping tightly into his backpack's straps. "My shift isn't for a few more hours..."

The guard shrugged. "Yeah, I know that. I'm just taking you home, is all" Bafflement runs across the teen's features. "But I walk-"

"I don't want you walking home anymore. I'll drive ya"

"B-but shouldn't you be at w-work-?"

"I'm on lunch break" Mike pulls himself into the driver's seat, starting the engine. Reaching over to unlock the passenger door, he pats the seat. "C'mon"

Jeremy wants to protest, but he can't find a reason to. So he simply sighs, climbs into the passenger seat and throws his book bag into the back. He blinks when a grinning Mike holds his seat belt out for him, silently demanding him to buckle himself. "...you're going to show off, aren't you?"

"Yep"

High school students across the school yard whip around to hear a loud screech and truck pulling violently out of the parking lot, leaving skid marks as it narrowly misses a stop sign.

108: Jacket

Last week, Mike lent Jeremy his favorite hoodie. It happened to be especially cold, and for some reason Fazbear's heater decided to half-ass itself that night, sending chills all through out the building. Mike wasn't bothered by it, but took one at Jeremy's purple lips and immediately shrugged off his hoodie, throwing to the nightwatch. It was too big for him, engulfing the smaller male once he put it on, but it was warm regardless.

Jeremy refuses to give it back.

He's been keeping it ever since, only ever letting the security guard touch it one morning a week after he's stolen it. Mike raises a brow as the brunette shuffles out of the clothing, blushing pink as he held it out for the man to take. "You've been keeping that since last Friday" He chuckles, "Why give it back to me now?"

"....it s-stopped smelling like you"

109: Family

The way Mike was gushing over and smooching the toddler was so uncharacteristic, it was almost alien nature. Jeremy watches as the man snuggles the giggling child, hoisting them up into the air and catching them again. It was nearly comical to watch, considering Mike claimed to despise kids. Especially this one in particular.

But as the man squishes her nose, Jeremy can't deny the pride and glee emitting from the security guard. "Look at you..." Mike cooes, rocking the toddler in his arms. "Do you know who I am?"

She grins at him. "Mikey!"

The brunette watches as the older man shakes his head, putting on a playful pout. "Nope! It's 'Daddy' now, ok?" The little girl burst into a fit of giggles, Mike smiling as the nightwatch rolled his eyes.

Rotating her in his grasp, he points the younger male out to her. "Do you know who that is?" He asks, Jeremy blinking in surprise as he's observed thoughtfully. Two sets of green eyes meet and the child thinks for a moment. "Jeremy?"

"Nah..." Mike chuckles. "That's Mommy"

110: Faces

It's just another one of Fazbear's boring monthly meeting, the one's every employee, no matter what hours or shift they worked, were required to attend to.

Management has a diagram of current work hours and profit in a neat sheet posted up on the wall, often pointing back to the data in the midst of his speech to further a point. The cashier, janitor and supply manager are quietly listening to his rambling, not too enthusiastic about the lecture but not willing to be rude about it either.

Further back in the room, Fritz is stealthily sleeping, his hand and head propped up at an angle just perfect enough to hide him behind another employee, softly snoring as the lecture continue. Beside him is Jeremy, and in front of him is Mike, both of them equally bored.

Jeremy's honestly trying to listen when he spots movement out of the corner of his eye. His vision darts to the security guard, narrowing when he catches a glimpse of something mischievous before Mike fixes himself.

Frowning, he returns his attention to the Manager, only to whip back around and glare at the older man as he quickly drops his face to neutral.

Mike quietly chuckles to himself as he acts innocent, keeping his view directly ahead of him. It was fun to mess with Jere, especially at serious times like this. Sure, the whole 'silly face' deal wasn't really his style, but that's exactly why it would catch the nightwatch off guard. A grin forms on his face as he sneakily glances towards the brunette once more.

He pales, blinking as Jeremy scrunched up his nose, crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. Two could play at this game.

111: Surprise Visit

Mike slumped over on his bed, shoes discarded to the other side of the room, hanging upside down and staring thoughtfully at a flip phone was certainly something Jeremy did not expect to see when he came home.

Furrowing his brows, he tosses his school bag to the side before giving the security guard an expectant stare, the older man simply blinking up at him. "....How did you get in my h-house?"

"You're mom let me in"

"....But why are you here?"

"I'm bored as fuck"

"...S-so you came here!?"

"Yes"

"What for?"

"So I can annoy you"

112: Beanie

Mike swears under his breath as he observes the clothing in his hands, frowning at the large tear in the fabric. He can hear someone approach from behind him, but he's fuming too much to care. "Mike?" A voice calls out to him. "W-what's wrong-?"

Jeremy blinks in surprise when the guard whips around and violently throws the hat in his direction. He fumbles to catch it before watching the man angrly stalk away from him, muttering a multitude of curses under his breath. "Keep it" He snarls, "It's fucking worthless now"

He digs a baseball cap out from his locker and leaves the room, leaving Jeremy to stare thoughtfully at his favorite torn beanie.

Later that evening, there's a knock on the Schmidt resident's door. MIke mummbles something crude as he sits up from the couch, throwing on a shirt. He must have taken too long to find the baseball cap again, because when he finally opens the front door, there's no one to greet him.

Instead, there's something hanging on his door knob. Ice eyes narrow as he takes it into his hands, looking it over it closely. Right where there had been long gash in the cloth, now was a thin line of neatly sewn stitches.

113: ScrapBook

Jeremy had a binder of his favorite photos he's taken tucked neatly away in his bookshelf at home, something he held dearly and never hardly let anyone see. One could say it was a diary, 'A picture is worth a thousand words', they say.

Mike felt a little betrayed when he was able to sneak a peek at the collection, finding no evidence of himself among the pages.

Jeremy finds him hastily flipping through the book, an irritated look on his face. Instead of trying to hide the fact he invaded the nightwatch's privacy, Mike boldly confronts the lack of himself in the scrapbook, trying to mask the hurt in his accusal.

Instead of getting upset or embarrassed like Mike had expected him to, Jeremy simply smiled, pulled out a tiny notebook from his backpack. It was small, around the size of his hand, but it was full. The guard blinks as the brunette leans it towards him, quickly running over the pages.

It was them: pictures of them on all their mis-adventures. Posing in front of the animatronics, one of Mike trying to scoff down a humongous hamburger, a shot of that one time Jeremy got a hairbrush stuck in his hair; just tidbits and moments of their shenanigans.

Mike takes the notebook, thoughtfully scanning over the photos. He remains oblivious as Jeremy raises his camera, shoots a quick shot and wrings the photo dry. The security guard is at lost for words when the brunette calmy stuffs it into the cover of the notebook.

The older man bites his lip. "...How come none of those are in your 'special' scrapbook?" he asks, "None of me?"

Jeremy giggles to himself, taking a sharpie and marking the date on the page. "I like to keep the best ones to myself"

114: Anger Vs Innocence

It's not a secret that Mike had the tendency to get a little angry. But it wasn't his fault, was it?

Even in a world where he's seen as a freak, he knows what he's capable of, that even others saw him as dangerous. He doesn't blame them, hell, he's not even offended by it. If anything, it prevented anyone from getting too close, from being an annoyance. No one wanted to be associated with a scar-ran, cold eyed mistake. And he grew to be perfectly ok with that.

Then Jeremy came along; someone who didn't care he had stitches running from his forehead to his neck, someone who didn't get chills when green met an icy glare, someone who didn't flinch when Mike got angry, only sighing and reaching to hold his hand as an effort to calm the man down. For the record, it worked, mostly.

The guard doesn't know how to deal with someone who isn't afraid of him, and it takes him a while to fully understand that the brunette isn't mocking him, that every smile sent in his direction was truly meant for him, and only him. Little by little, he finds it very difficult to be angry at anything anymore with a pair of bright green eyes staring at him, a small hand holding his own.

When he realizes he can't get mad anymore, he starts to feel something else: Fear. Funny, how someone so insignificant could turn a stone-skinned man weak. Jeremy remains oblivious to the guard's inner debate, oblivious to his turmoil.

The animatronics are fully aware of the change inside the cold man, even the spirits that lingered inside the metal were aware of the shift. There's a certain soul in particular, sitting thoughtfully in the prize box as he listens to the music box, mind wandering back to memory once shared with the nightwatch:

"If you beat a dog and put it in a kennel, and you will surely find it aggressive..." The puppets smile seemed to widen. "But give it a love that will ease it's wounds, you will soon find it protective"

He knows Jeremy has yet to understand his words. But as he slides into the office, watching the wolf grab hold of his little clover protectively; Marionette knows Mike is fully aware of what the nightwatch has done to him.

115: Caught On Camera

Getting caught on Kissing Cam was probably one of the most unfortunate things to ever happen to a good set of friends at a sporting event. Why do I state this? Well, our very own king of douchebaggery and lil' dweeb happened to experience this situation.

The chanting of the crowd around them is overbearing, but Jeremy seems like the only one affected by the pressure, since Mike sat nonchalantly in his seat, raising a brow as his view darts from the big screen to the brunette.

The cheers are getting louder and it takes all the courage Jeremy can muster up to lean over and give a quick peck to the security guard's cheek. He sits back and slumps down, face going red. Mike is somewhat frozen and there's an array of 'aws' and disappointed 'boos' coming from around them. All the nightwatch wants to do is bury himself in his hands.

Suddenly, his face is yanked upwards and he's barely able to let out a little squeal as Mike strongly kisses him. The crowd goes ballistic.

116: Sleep Over

When Mike's electricity decides to go absolutely nuts and fail him completely, Mrs. Fitzgerald is kind enough to offer him a roof over his head until the landlord can fix his apartment. He'd be sleeping on the couch, of course. But it was better than sleeping on the street.

Now imagine Mrs. Fitzgerald's face when she walks in from work one late evening, only to find her son and that estranged man curled up on the couch together, both of them fast asleep. She smiles, silently creeping by and turning off the movie they had playing.

She spares them another glance as she turns the living room lights off, sighing at the sight of her son held so tightly, as if he was a child's beloved blanket. She knows she shouldn't be allowing this, but the soft smile on her son's sleeping face convinces her to let the notion slide.

Only when she leaves the room does Mike peek an eye open, yawning as he clutches the smaller male closer to him. Jeremy makes some sort of disgruntled noise before falling back to sleep.

117: Jeremy No

Mike's growling as he rounded the corner, visually upset. Yet, there was no denying the worry that nagged him in the back of his mind.

Earlier, Jeremy and him had gotten into one of their infamous bickering sessions again, only this time it advanced. At one point, the guard violently gestured outwards to make a point when the nightwatch took the opening and snatched the front of his security cap, quickly pulling it off the older man's head and running out of the locker room.

It takes a moment for Mike to recover from the shock of such a childish action before bolting after the teen, both a little irritated and amused.

Now, it's been half an hour and he still has yet to find him.

Sighing, he stops in the middle of the party room, dramatically raising his hands up in surrender. "You know what? Fine, you win..." He snarls, "Will you please just come out now?"

Something drops from above and lands on the floor in front of him. Blue eyes grow wide, staring dumbfounded at his security cap before trailing upwards, mouth gaping as he spots Jeremy casually hanging from the ceiling fan. The brunette gives a soft smile and a small wave. "H-hi..."

"....What the fuck, Jeremy"

118: Hostage.

Mike has always been a bully, the bite didn't change that.

Even as a child, he was always the pushy one on the play ground. The one all the other children would run to their mother's crying about whenever he repelled them away from his jungle gym or claimed the sandbox as his own pirate's bay. None of the children would want to play with him, and while it seemed sad, he was too engrossed by his own pirate nature to care. They weren't worthy of him, anyway.

But then there was this new kid, a tiny, shy, fidgety boy who stole all of the attention. Not because he was easy to get along with, but because he was so incredibly easy to fling around. He briefly notes the boy's name when his mother calls out to him.

Mike would watch from a corner of his claimed territory as kids his age picked on the younger toddler, childish jealousy rising up inside of him. It's only when the boldest of the group, a child clad in purple, roughly grabs the boy by his hair does Mike decide to take action.

The pirate stalks up to the other children, reaching out and taking hold of the toddler's hand. He makes sure the sobbing boy is hidden behind him before turning back to angrily stare at the culprits.

"Jeremy's my hostage now!" He sneers, "So leave him alone, or I'll make ya walk the plank!"

119: Aloe

Normally when people get sunburned, they get burned in patches; red, irritated skin on their backs, necks, face, arms, or really just anywhere they were exposed. In Jeremy's case however; he doesn't turn red, instead he turns a really embarrassing shade of pink. Almost like bubblegum; hold them side by side with each other and you couldn't tell the colors apart.

Mike is kind enough to help him ease his outerwear off, mindful of the irritated skin as he removes the clothing. He tells Jeremy to sit still, and try not to flinch as he rubs aloe over his hands, hovering over him. The nightwatch doesn't cringe, however, he does bite his lip as cold hands move against his back, trailing forward to his shoulders and chest.

He suffers Mike's really bad sunburn puns for the next few minutes while the relief is applied.

120: Morning

It's a bright Saturday, late morning heading into afternoon when Mike knocks on the Fitzgerald's front door. There's no car in the driveway, probably hinting that Mrs. Fitzgerald was out working or running errands. He can hear shuffling coming from inside the house as he rocks on his feet, whistling patiently.

He's about to be a twat and knock again when the door swings open, a disheveled looking Jeremy staring sleepy eyed at him and obviously dazed. Mike pauses, hand stuck mid-impact and takes a good roaming of the nightwatch.

The brunette's hair is wild, one of the most creative bedheads ever to exist. His pajamas wearn't his matching rabbit pants and long sleeve; instead it was a pair of loose baby blue boxers, and a faded white t-shirt with little ducks on the front of it. He's wearing red and pink striped socks to boot, too.

If this wasn't the definition of adorkable, Mike doesn't know what is.

He swallows as Jeremy brings a hand up to rub his eyes, his face flushed a pretty pink. "M'mmm...h-hi Mikey...." The brunette slurs, mind still wracked with sleepiness. "What do you want?"

He blinks when a minute passes and the security guard has yet to answer. He's about to ask again when Mike promptly spins on his heel and hurries down the porch step, desperately trying not to glance back at the nightwatch again. "Listen, I-uh..." He stammers, oddly nervous for someone of his character. "I'll catch you later, ok?"

Jeremy raises a brow at his retreating back down the sidewalk, quietly wondering as to why the guard's face had suddenly bloomed a flustered pink. Blinking, he shrugs before shutting the front door shut, making note to call Mikey later.

121: Bike

"Why is it that you've n-never learned how to ride a bike?" Jeremy questions, "I-it's one of childhood's b-biggest achievements!"

Mike rolls his eyes, nudging the contraption lightly. "Don't even get me started on 'childhood', Jeremy. I don't have time for this shit." He turns his back to the scene and half-heartedly begins to walk away, stopping only when he hears the small chime of a bell.

He grimly whipps back around to see Jeremy holding the bike upright, thumb resting on the handlebar bell. Mike can feel his eye twitch when Jeremy gives a knowing smile. "You know want to learn..."

"Bitch, I might"

"Then w-what are you waiting for?" He giggles, patting the seat affectionately. "I'll teach you!"

The guard opens his mouth to protest, but it closes when no sound comes from his throat. Finally, he sighs and stalks over to the pair, swinging himself over the contraption and giving Jeremy a soft glare. "If I break my leg on this shit, I'm blaming you"

The brunette's demeanor is innocent. "I won't let you get hurt. Promise."

Rolling his eyes, the older man wonders how such a bright smile could be so damn persuasive. Jeremy has his hands on the Mike's back and the handlebars, holding him steady. "R-ready?"

"Fucking no, but let's do this anyway."

The corner's of Mike's mouth twitch upwards when the nightwatch gives another laugh. With a push of his feet, and help from small guiding hands; the safety bar is unlocked and they're ready to launch. He takes a deep breath, glances towards bright green eyes giving him encouragement, and tightens his grip. "Ok, here we go..."

122: Arrested

Jeremy didn't know which choice to make: bail Mike out of jail or let the asshole fend for himself.

Both the brunette and police officer are standing outside the temporary cell, glaring at the drunken man. Mike's slumped up against the concrete walls, staring heatedly at the nightwatch. His once dazed angry expression morphed into a softer, kinder hearted one when the nightwatch had walked into the room, only to return to his aggressive nature when he spots the police officer talking hastily with the teen.

The teen bites his lip. "W-what are his offense?" He asks, pausing. "Public intoxication?"

Surprisingly, the officer shakes his head. "Believe it or not kid, his alcohol level is under the legal number. He's drunk, but not enough to be illegal." Jeremy tilts his head as the other man runs a hand through his beard thoughtfully. "...Then, what d-did he do?"

"Punched his landlord in the gut or something. Broke a rib, I think" The officer sighs, unhooking keys from his belt. "It was probably just the drink thinking for him at the time, but I can't say he don't look like the man who would do such a thing sober."

The nightwatch thins his lips into a line, frustrated as the cell door is unlock. The bearded man is gesturing Mike to come out when he whips he neck to peer at the teen once more. "I'll be honest with ya; really wasn't expecting a brute like this guy to use his only phone call for someone like you, kid" He states, "No offensince"

Jeremy shly shrugs, taking a pen and sighing a few papers before returning to stand by Mike, whom seemed unphased by the change in event. The security guard's face is flushed but paled, like it's saturation was gone and it was simply darkened in tone. Another tell-tell sign of his current state.

Mike is still sneering as they exit the building, Jeremy having to resort to swinging the older man's arm around his shoulders to better keep him in line. "That guy was a dickkkk" He slurs, blue eyes glossed over. "-not even the nice ones, like me"

The brunette roll his eyes. "Y-you owe me for this..."

"I don't owe you nothing but a ride, dorkshit"

"...You didn't even drive here. T-the cop had to-"

Jeremy whimpers as he's twisted in Mike's grasp. He nearly falls to crash into the sidewalk when the drunk roughly grabs hold of him, alcohol on his breath. "You are one dense motherfucker, aren't you?"

Jeremy bites his lip, eases away from the guard and slowly moves to guide him forward. "L-let's just get you home, Mike"

"I ain't going unless you're going with me"

"Mike..."

The brunette's hand is quickly snatched up by the olderman, mind going blank as he's dragged down the sidewalk. The sneer on Mike's face is gone, now replaced by something silly and mischievous. "C'mon, Jere" He chuckles, voice raspy from dryness. "We're gonna go on a adventureeeee"

Jeremy gives a knowing sigh as he's hastily dragged away from the jail.

123: Laundry

Mike doesn't have a washer or dryer in his shit apartment, which was probably the reason why the entirety of his wardrobe was littered through his place and why they all smelled suspiciously like pudding and pizza.

There was the local laundromat, but the place was usually full of scum like him, and the crowd didn't help the expensive prices and extensive wait to use the machines. So he sprain a bottle of febreeze on himself and played it cool; no one noticed.

Except Jeremy, who found it getting rather hard to get closer to the security guard when he smelled like sour mustard and bad perfume. "I'm going to wash all y-your junk, ok?" The nightwatch stated, not waiting for an answer. "This is just gross, Mike"

Said man groans as the younger male picks up his living room, throwing the discarded clothing into a basket. "How the fuck are you going to help?" He snarks, crossing his arms. Jeremy pouts. "We'll just use my washer, ok? Just...d-don't argue with me on this. You stink"

Mike can only growl as the nightwatch leaves with half of his wardrobe, smiling victoriously all the way home.

124: Mock (Continued)

The next evening he knocks on the Fitzgerald's residence, not even sparing a second thought as he lets himself in. He's pretty damn close with the family now, they wouldn't mine. Jeremy practically lived with him almost; all he had to do was add another name to the landlord's plate list and voila: they were roommates.

Now imagine his expression when he walks in on the mother and son, Jeremy dressed in his work uniform, it's sleeves much too long for his shorter arms, with his cap stuffed over his floor of hair, holding his arms out dramatically as his mother laughed in delight.

"Ohhhh I'm Mikeyyyyyy!" The teen mocks, his voice lowering to a comical deeper pitch. "Don't scratch m-my truck or I'll beat you up! Don't t-take my hat or I'll beat you up! Don't b-breath the same air as m-me or I'll beat you uppppppp~!" He burst into a fit of laughter, lost in his own amusement.

His mother pauses in her own giggles when she hears a deep cough come from the doorway, Whipping around, she smiles at the man. "Oh, good to see you Michael!"

Jeremy freezes, going silent. Wide green iris trail to the doorway and pale. "....H-Hi Mike...."

125: Voice

When Jeremy lost his voice, communication with nearly everyone becomes nearly impossible. He's had to resort to spastic hand gestures, wild facial expressions, a show or two of charades and simple pad and pen to carry on a conversation. He couldn't even tell his mother good morning, one of the worst woes in the situation.

By nature, him and Mike thrived off of non-verbal communication; so when the security guard offered to be his translator oh-so-kindly, Jeremy smiled and nodded, glad that he would finally be able to be heard. The doctor made it clear he wouldn't be able to speak for the next couple of days anyway.

The day runs by smoothly; not having to answer questions in class, not being bothered on his walk to Fazbear's, and even the bickering session he usually had with Mike was alternated, the security guard only huffing as the muted nightwatch walked through the door, thwacking his forehead playfully before joining Fritz into the locker room.

It's not until now does Jeremy regret having Mike as his 'translator'.

It started off when Fritz asked a simple question about school, one to which Jeremy made gestures and movement to which could easily be deciphered. Mike shrugs, telling the temp worker Jeremy's answer before a devilish grin splits his cheeks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"See, Fritz, what Jeremy's trying to tell you is that he is one of the dorkiest dweeb alive on the planet."

A muted cry comes from the night watch as Fritz raises an eyebrow, "...But what does that have to do with geometry-?"

"He also wants me to tell you that his favorite flavor of ketchup is mango"

Jeremy is frantically waving his hands in protest when a knowing grin etches it's way onto Fritz's expression, both him and the security guard sharing equal smirks of qaulity. "Oh, yeah.." The temp trailed off, "What else did he say?"

Mike chuckles. "Well, right now he's saying he's a midget and he''ll never ever get taller..." A sound of disapproval comes from the nightwatch, but it comes out muted and straggled.

"Also, He's a huge mama's boy with weird little camera and likes to take picture of puny little butterflies~" The two older men snicker as the teen's movements increases, still unable to produce a sound.

"What was that, Jeremy?" Mike grins, mocking the nightwatch. "Why, I think he just confessed to be madly in love with me!" Jeremy's distress intensifies.

Mike's having a fit and Fritz is doubling over to suppress his laughter, the both of them entirly entertained by the red bloom flooding the nightwatch's skin. Fritz sputtered, trying to catch his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he spares the man a raised glance

"Are you sure he really said that, Mike? Or is that just what you want to hear?"

The security guard's laugh halt abruptly, going silent as Jeremy as they both glared down at the amber eyed man, much too busy holding his stomach to care.

126: Bouncy House

Jeremy can't decide whether he's clocked into Fazbear's much too early, or just at the perfect moment. Closing time was always a finicky process for the employees; either families were rushing to the cashier to hurry on their way or children still ran rampant among the play rooms, the parents standing by without a care in the world.

Unfortunately, it would be up to the Fazbear employees to catch the little brats and return them to their respective mothers, ushering them out of the building so they themselves could leave. Of course, the only one who would actually put some effort into the chase would be Mike, who'd be more than happy to be rid of the snobby toddlers as soon as he could.

Jeremy watches with amusement as he flops around the bouncy house, yelling and cursing as he tries to snatch five-year olds dancing mockingly around him.

127: It's All In Your Head

Mike's lived through enough to know that some things aren't always what they seem. He's been tricked, lied to, deceived, and conned many times and it wouldn't be a surprise if it happened again. Though he was not naive, he was easy to outsmart, and with the right thought and correct intention, the slightest mistake could send him over the edge.

Benjamin dwells on the fact as he enters the security guard's mind, picking at every nerve.

"We both know that the pleasantries in life are often false, Mr. Schmidt." The ghost slyly coils, "They are nothing more than hidden disasters masked by a fraud sense of significance. This life is of no worth to you"

Mike blinks at the sudden disembodied voice, fingers twitching as the ghoul entranced him. He cuts Benjamin off: "I didn't ask for your opinion. Fuck off.

He can't see it, but he senses a devilish grin in the conman's spirit. "Now, let's not be hostile to one another. We are more alike than you'd believe, Michael-"

The guard sneers, "I am nothing like you"

"Oh, on the contrary; we are identical, even. Simply just in different states" The smooth charm in the floating voice is easy to fall asleep to, but hearing it only makes Mike more alert than ever. He feels the twitch shoot from his palm up to his shoulder as the Purple Man continues.

"You see, dear Michael; I was exactly like you before I made certain...decisions. I was a man of impulse, a man of clouded thinking, a man who realised that to rid his life of the disease that plagued it, would have to make dire sacrifices to save it. Even if it meant ending it in the long run." The venom in his tone is acidic. "I was you before I snapped, and I snapped because I realised that this world is nothing more than an illusion-"

"You're wrong!" Mike spits, voice loud and bearing. "I'm am nothing like you, never was and never will be. Yeah, I used to think the whole fucking world was a peice of shit, but I waited and good things came along. I have friends now, something I didn't have before and holy fuck do I wish I had. Fuck you if you think I'm going to throw that all away because you're convinced my life is a fucking delusion-"

"You are as deaf as you are blind, Mr. Schmidt. A comical combination, if I do say so myself." Mike goes silent as the ghost's voice swirls around his head, his vocal cords going numb. "Do you really think these 'good things' of yours will last? Your friends? They'll leave you soon enough, and soon you'll realise they were never there for you in the first place."

There's a faint cold feeling of hands on his shoulders as Benjamin continues. "Take little Jeremy, for example"

"Don't bring him into this-"

"What makes you believe a good hearted soul like that would bond with such a rotten one of your own? Surely, you can't be convinced he truly cares for you, do you?" Benjamin click his tongue. "Shame on you for beliveing such a transparent lie. I expected better of you, Mr. Schmidt, I really did"

The twitch is crawling up his spine and into his neck now, settling in his head. Mike groans as a headache come upon him, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Shut your fucking mouth..." He inwardly cringes as he hears his own voice betray him, cracking mid-sentence. "You don't know anything..."
"I know that you are a very angry man with a very tragic future. One that will roll into play the moment you realize Jeremy has no need for you. You will be removed, tossed like rubbish and forgotten. I'm surprised you've lasted as long as you've had already, honestly."

"Get the fuck out of my head"

"I will as soon as you understand and accept that you are a monstrosity subdued and chained, just like I was." Benjamin gives a ghostly smirk as Mike visually flinches. "I'm not sure what you'll become when you break free, but I'm certain there will be blood-"

"What the fuck is your problem? How is my life any of your fucking business?" Bandaged hands rise to hover over the sides of the guard's temples, pressing the ache beneath the skin. "There's nothing wrong with me, and there's nothing wrong with the people I care for!"

"You care for them, but they do not for you-"

"You don't know that!"

"I know more than what you do, Michael, and I know Jeremy has the means and will to live his life perfectly without your interference. It is your own fault for bonding a tether to the boy, and it will be your downfall." The cold firmness leaves the man's shoulders, yet he still finds himself slumping to the floor. "You are nothing more than a burden to him"

Mike honestly doesn't know when he started crying, but it's too late to stop it now. He tries to feebly hide the emotion behind his hands, pride and heart sinking by the second.

"Please..." He begs,"Leave me alone"

"You are alone"

128: Bedtime Stories

Something loud and annoying blared in Jeremy's ears as he stirred awake, groggily turning over his side to face his alarm clock. Through tired blurry vision, he makes out the numbers 2:56AM , and groans, running a groggy hand over his eyes.

He reaches his other arm out and hits the end table, feeling around until something small and buzzing touched his palm. Wrapping his fingers around it, he flips open the phone with looking at the caller ID, sleepily raising it to his ear. "Ugh...H-hello?"

"...Hey, Jeremy"

He recognizes the voice on the other end immediately. "Mike? Why are you c-calling so late?"

"...I wanted to check on you"

"But I'm not working tonight..."

"I know"

There's a strain in the older male's voice that's difficult to hear with the phone's poor qaulity speaker, but Jeremy's heard enough to know that he certainly shouldn't be sounding as cracked as it was.

The nightwatch thins his mouth into a line. "A-are you ok?" He asks softly, "D-do you need me to come over-?"

"I'm fine, Jere"

He say it pretty confidently, but in no way does Jeremy actually believe him. He keep his doubts to himself, however. Mike is a stubborn man, and persisting will probably just end in an argument. Maybe.

It's quiet on the other end of the line for a moment before either of them speak again. "I shouldn't of called you this late" The security guard apologizes, taking on a tone that only increased the worry within the teen. "Sorry, I'll just go-"

"N-No, No! You don't have to hang up!" Clutching the phone to his ear, Jeremy shoots up to sitting position. "....I mean, If I'm keeping you from sleep then you can. J-just that...I-uh, w-want to talk to you...." He may not be able to weasle out what was troubling the guard tonight, but he'll have a chance to do that in the morning.

Something tells Jeremy that Mike called him for his own sake than the nightwatch's.

"Are you sure?" The voice on the line questions, "Don't you have school later or something?" "Y-yes...but uh..." The brunette trailed off, looking for an excuse. "...I can't sleep"

"Oh...that really sucks." Translation: me neither.

The conversation dies and they simply sit there, soaking in each other's silence. Suddenly, a smile itches onto Jeremy's face. Mike can't see it, but he can feel it. "So..." The teen begins, resisting a small giggle. "Know any good bedtime stories?"

He hears a low chuckle. "I might"

"...and?"

"Did I ever tell you the one where a monster fell in love with a flower?"

"No, you haven't" Jeremy giggles, pausing for a moment as the line went quiet. He shuffles a but before whispering.

"....will you please tell me about it?"

Jeremy leans back into bed, the phone snugged comfortably next to his ear. He hears Mike hum before sighing, giving a playful huff. "Sure, it's my favorite anyway..."

129: I Spy

Mike leaned back against the tree, eyes shit and resting as the nightwatch dug sandwich bag. He hears a bored sputter from the teen before something tugs in his shirt, grabbing his attention. "H-how long until Fritz gets here?"

He's met with a careless shrug. "I really don't give a damn" Jeremy frowned at the response, flipping out his phone and checking the time before signing, glancing around the park. Suddenly, a light lit in his eyes as an idea came to mind. "Wanna play I-spy?"

Mike gives some sort of inaudible grunt, one which the nightwatch will take as a yes. He searches the parking, looking for a subject. "I spy....." He spots two children throwing a bright red frisbee and smiles. "Something red."

"...your shoes?"

Jeremy blinks, surprised to hear a response so quickly. "N-nope..."

"That kite over there?"

"Not t-that either..."

Mike growled, growing frustrated. He turns to point at the children across the park, just as they throw the frisbee into a array of bushes. "What about those kid's shirt?" He glares when Jeremy giggles. "Wrong again!"

Blue eyes twitch and the guard finds himself reaching out to grip the back of the night watch's head, roughly bringing their faces together. Jeremy's throat goes dry as Mike plants his mouth on the corner of his, frozen and unable to move.

When he pulls away, there's a fleeting glance before a victorious smirk dawns on the security guard. He chuckles as he points to the flustered brunette. "Your face"

130: Text

7:28 PM
Mike:
r u coming ova or wat

7:29 PM
Jeremy:
I have homework to do.

7:29 PM
Mike:
idgaf

7:30 PM
Jeremy:
I also have school tomorrow and I would like to catch up on some sleep.

7:31 PM
Mike:
K I got pillows n shit ova here

7:32 PM
Jeremy:
Well...you're apartment is gross

7:33 PM
Mike:
so am I but u still hang around me :P

7:33 PM
Jeremy:
Really, Mike? Just how bored are you?

7:34 PM
Mike:
bored enough I require a dweeb

7:35 PM
Jeremy:
Geeze you're really weird

7:36 PM
Mike:
ye I also need medical attention btw my bandages came off

7:36 PM
Jeremy:
Why didn't you say something before?!? I'm on my way

7:36 PM
Mike:
Lol k

8:02 PM
Jeremy:
I'm outside your apartment and you're lying aren't you?

8:03 PM
Mike:
yes hurry up I'm making poptarts

131: Appliance (Continued)

Jeremy sighs, pocketing the phone as he enters the security guard's apartment. The first thing his he smell sister usual faint after-smoke and sulfur, the second thing being the strong tart of icing. He wrinkles his nose just as a something clangs in the kitchen, a familiar voice curses loudly.

He rounds the corner and stands baffled in the door frame while the guard wrestles with the mess. Mike mutters something under his breath as he turns to face the teen, putting up a sheepish smile. "Uh hey, Jere..." He chuckles nervously. "Um, snacks almost done!"

Green eyes dart from the mess to the guard, utterly confused. "...W-what is that?"

"It just poptarts"

"....so why are you trying to stuff them in the blender?"

Mike shrugs, half-heartedly shutting the appliance's lid. "The coffee maker is broken"

132: Sixth Sense

There are many signs to see if a person is troubled: red-rimmed eyes, stuffy nose, flustered skin and paled complexion. Verbally; they talk fast or not at all. Physically, even the slightest fidget or shift of the shoulders could be a tell-tell sign of someone's weakness. Jeremy learned to read body language like this, and in response, has learned how to hide it.

No one notices anything unusual as he leaves the school campus, bidding Fritz farewell with a simple wave of the hand. The woman who directs traffic down the road every afternoon turns and gives him a smile as he passes, quickening his pace down the sidewalk. Even his mother doesn't suspect a thing as he walks through his front door, face blank and void of emotion.

He throws his bag to the side as she kisses him in the cheek, reminding him to get ready for work as she herself leaves to run some errands.

No one notices. No one even so much as blinks an eyelid at the teen as he keeps up the facade. He's not the only one to do this, he knows. The entirety of the world had their issues, their own problems in life. He was not an exemption to ignorance and it would be selfish to believe he would be. He know he's not the only one out there who's suffering, but it doesn't ease the sting of it any less.

Mike knows better.

Jeremy clocks in that evening, a little later than usual to see a fuming Mike standing by the locker room's entrance, waiting. The nightwatch already has some poorly constructed excuse in the back of his throat ready to explain. Rather, he goes numb when the guard's expression softens; stepping forward and pulling the smaller male into a hug.

The tears start flowing immediately and Jeremy stiffens, knowing he's been figured out. Pulling away and playing it cool would be futile; Mike was a certain man when it came to delicate situations, the fragility being Jeremy himself. So instead of breaking the contact, he sinks into the guard's hold.

"H-how did you know?" He sputters, trying to keep his sobbing at a low volume. "How d-did you know s-something was wrong?"

Mike doesn't answer, curling a few hair locks around his fingers and brushing them behind the brunette's ear. "If I told you how I knew, you'd just try to hide it from me" He whispers,"So let's just say I had a sense..."

133: Adoption

The pet store isn't as stocked as they thought it'd be, but there's still plenty to choose from. Mike stand outside a cage in particular, eyeing a large breed dog. He gives it a cold glare, to which the animal returns without so much as a whine. They lock gazes for a minute, two minutes, escalating into three before the guard smiles, reaching out to pet the mutt.

"This one's a tough motherfucker. We'd get along just fine, wouldn't we?" He grins when the mutt replies with a enthusiastic bark, loud and deep just like he expected. Fingers still running over the grey fur, Mike turns to Jeremy. "We're getting this one"

Said nightwatch frowns at the selection, cradling a kitten in his arms. "A-are you sure? That's a pretty big dog...." He walks closer to the pair with the feline still tucked within his grasp. The feline makes eye contact with the mutt, hissing as it buried itself into the teen's sweater. "Couldn't we get something s-smaller? Like this?" He holds up the spazzing kitten for emphasis.

Both Mike and the mutt give the pair a cold glare. "You can't be serious" Jeremy lowers the kitten with a pout, looking offended. "W-why not?"

"It's puny"

"W-well, I'm puny and y-you never say anything!"

"That's different. You're not a fucking cat" He barks, "You're just as annoying as one, though"

The nightwatch scrunches his nose at the argument, ironically looking as if someone bristled his fur. "Y-you're such a dog, Mike! Just because you want a b-big dog doesn't mean I want one too!" He hisses, "I want the kitten!"

Mike shrugged, ruffling the mutt's fur. "I don't care. We're not getting that flea-shit either"

The both of them stared each other and their respective animals down, argument dying as the eye lock burned. Mike sneered, tapping his fingers on the dog's head while Jeremy pouted and petted the kitten, both pets equally amused at the human's interactions.

134: Compromise (Continued)

The kitten made no protest when it was gently picked up by it's neck between two sets of sharp teeth. He's carried to a bed, the dog hopping onto it and settling at the feet's end, releasing the kitten. It gave a little mew, yawned, and snuggled into the grey of the bigger animal's fur, just underneath the muzzle. Said dog responded by craning his neck around the smaller creature protectively, the both of them falling fast asleep.
There's a thoughtful look on Mike's face tainted with a hint of defeat. Behind him, Jeremy looks perfectly content. "I t-think they like each other..."

The security guard swallows, sparing a glance towards the brunette. He opens his mouth to snark something smart when a memory hits him: Back in the pet shop, just as he convinces Jeremy to put the kitten back does the mutt begin to sadly whine and bark towards the nightwatch. Somehow, the feline scampers out of the teen's arms and bolts for the dog.

He faintly remembers himself facepalming at the affection while Jeremy gave a soft giggle. "Fine..." Mike groans, itching to hold the night watch's hand. "We'll take them both"

135: Clarity

You know that feeling you get when everything goes wrong? The whole world just dims and goes cloudy. You can see color, but you can't see the vibrance of it's nature, like no matter what you do everything will always be cut and clean; black and white to you and it was absolutely numbing.

Mike knows that feeling like the back of his hand. It's so freakishly familiar that it scared him, but he was to terms with the fact that he will probably never see life in a positive light. Not that he minded that, he was perfectly ok with brooding thoughts and being the grumpiest fucker you'll ever meet.

The world is a cruel, dark place under the guise that it is wonderful, and Mike just so happens to one of the few to see it in it's true state. But for some reason, whenever his best friend laughs or maybe happens to smile, the air gains a hint of color.

Little by little, Jeremy paints Mike's life something beautiful.

136: Red Hands

The brunette flinches a little when he feels a little sting in the back of palms, pulling them into his chest. He misses Mike furrowing his brows as he gives a little giggle. "O-ok, you won that one..."

"Shit, Jere..." The blue gaze lingers on the reddened skin. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard..."

Jeremy tilts his head. "B-but that's the entire p-point of the game!" He exclaims, holding out his hands for emphasis. "D-don't worry about it! It's my turn anyway." He reassures, bring his hands out faced down.

Mike hesitates before hovering his own set over the teen's, eyeing him carefully. "You kids and you're 'patty cake' nowadays...."

"It's red-hands, Mike"

"Same shit"

137: Nap

Coming home to find a dweeb passed out on his couch brought a train load of questions to the security guard.

One; Mike was returning from the grocery store, knowing full well he left his door shut and feebly locked before he left. How the hell did Jeremy even get inside his apartment?

Two; Where did all those blankets come from? No, seriously. His entire sofa was a piled assortment of sheets and covers with the occasional pillow tossed in there somewhere, and Jeremy was sleeping right in the smack middle of it.

Three; There was no obvious reason as to why the nightwatch was even here. Like, neither of them worked that day either, and there were no previously made plans to hang out made, so Mike was in the dark here. What? Did Jeremy just decide to make himself at home whenever he felt like it?

The guard sighs, walking into the kitchen and putting away the groceries. Jeremy's been doing alot of that, it seems.

Once the refrigerated products are in their proper place, Mike moves back to the living room, plopping down beside the sleeping the brunette and gently put a hand on his shoulder, giving a light shake.

His mouth twitches upwards when green eyes half-heartedly open. "Hey, dorky..." Mike eases. "Whatcha here for? Something wrong?"

The teen is much too dazed to give a coherent answer, so instead, he simply sticks out his tongue and falls back asleep. Mike gives a low chuckle as he playfully thwacks the younger male's mouth. "Fine, have it your way then"

138: Daisy

Jeremy had a skill for flower crowns, something his mother taught him to do in his early years, he says. Mike always teased him about it, making some sort of fairy or leprechaun reference whenever the subject was brought up. Yet, when Jeremy makes him own of his own; a neatly woven crown of blue poppies and scarlet rose petals, Mike says nothing as he balances it atop his head, muttering something under his breath.

Later that day, the guard offers his own retaliation: a crude band of white petals and leafed clovers wrapped around a braided vine. It was obvious he had no skill in the craft.

It isn't as pretty as it sounds, but Jeremy happily wears it anyway.

139: Kiss

Fun fact: Their first kiss was unplanned, sloppy, sudden and simply not the most coordinated action in the world. Not to mention Mike was a little...rough. Jeremy can still look a in the mirror or stick a finger in his mouth and feel the teeth marks embedded his tongue.

140: I'm Still Here

Ever since Mike was hospitalized, Jeremy can't shake the paranoid feeling of someone watching over his shoulder as he walks.

The doctor's claim he's not in a coma, saying he is simply recovering with much needed sleep. But when another week passes and the guard has yet to awaken, the brunette isn't too sure whether to believe them anymore.

Work is uncomfortably lonely. Fritz works the day shift now, or at least until the orginal security guard gets back on his feet. It's just a setback, they convince themselves. It's Mike were talking about here, right? There's no way a stone skinned man like him would be out long.

Yet, as the days stretch by, it's getting harder and harder to remember he's still in care. Realization hits the teen as he stops mid-text to the guard's number. Biting his lip, he deletes the draft and stuffs his phone back into his pocket. Missing someone often made you forget reality.

However, he doesn't exactly feel alone.

He wants to think he's being paranoid, but then he blinks, wide eyes staring at own shadow. Being against the wall, it should have been the same height as him. But instead of his short stature, it's taller and much more mencilenly looking. It didn't have any indication of his floofy hair in the shadow, instead there were faint slivers of stitches lining from it's skull, trailing down to the back of it's neck. To add to the non-normality, the shadow shared eyes and a smirking mouth, much more confident than his own.

It only truly scared the nightwatch when he discovered he was the only one seeing it.

It hardly interacts with him, mostly just following close behind and keeping careful watch on the teen as he went about his daily business. School, work or home; it was there. It gave him privacy when he needed it, but was right back on his heels when he didn't, protectivly hovering around him.

Jeremy never acknowledges it's presence outspokenly in fear that it'll turn on him, especially since he isn't completely sure on what exactly the shadow stood for.

But one night, while he's half asleep at his homework littered desk, he turns to the it with low-lidded and wet eyes.. "...y-you're going to wake up, right?"

There's no other answer but the shadow giving him a twisted grin.

141: Popsicle

Mike's eye twitches twice before freezingas he watches the nightwatch suck non-chalantly on an orange flavored popsicle, holding it between his lips as he reads the weekly newspaper.

Jeremy twist the paper in his hands, flipping it upside down and upright again before finding a specific article. "Hey, some p-people are thinking about b-buying Fazbear entertainment!" He exclaims, making sure to keep hold of his treat. "W-what do you think they're going to do-?"

He whimpers as Mike suddenly swatts the popsicle from his mouth, letting it drop to the floor. A green glare spots the discarded treat and frowns. "What w-was that for?!"

"...Don't speak with your mouth full"

142: Cousin

When his little cousin brings him a picture, he expects something cute and childish, like maybe a flower a drawing of a dog or something.

Instead, Jeremy finds it's a very crude crayon drawing of a two sticks figures; one obviously himself and the other seemingly Mike, the both sketched in....suggestive positions to one another.

Squeaking, he whips around when he hears footsteps behind him, the security guard peering thoughtfully over his shoulder. His cousin giggled and holds the picture higher for the older man to see, going cross eyed with giddy.

She giggles as Mike smugly tacks it to the fridge, Jeremy going pale.

143: Funeral

Mike doesn't know how to feel as he watches the coffin lower into the ground. The name 'Fitzgerald' carved into the header, her tombstone right besides the one of Mike's own mother.

Jeremy, on the other hand, is sobbing too hard into the security guards arms to care.

144: Two

Jeremy is in love with two different people with two different personalities:

The first was someone who'd turn your whole week sour if you happened to breath the same air as them. They were rude, crass, and simply unpleasant to be around. Not to mention an impulsive brute. They would mess with his hair, mock him and make fun of what he did or what he was, even causing him to cry when they went too far. They never retaliated, or if they did, they never show it. One could say they were the definite embodiment of anger.

The other was a complete sweetheart, and while their manners were a bit rusty, they often tried to be a gentlemen to the best of their abilities.They cared for the nightwatch, apologizing whenever the brutal one went passed the line and repairing what ever was broken, sealing it and making the bond stronger in the process. This one would kiss his forehead, hold him close, and wipe Jeremy's wet eyes dry as they hummed in his ear.

These people went under the same name: Mike.

145: Birthday

For his sixteenth birthday, Mike shrugged and muttered something about cake.
For his seventeenth birthday, Mike royally ruffled Jeremy's hair and laughed as he tried to fix it.
For his eighteenth birthday, Mike kissed him in front of his family. It was just a dare, he claims.
It's Jeremy's nineteenth birthday today, and Mike isn't sure if he should unleash some sappy-shit speech first or to just pull out the ring and brace for the answer.

146: Halloween

The store was decorated with fake bats and plastic spiders in jack-o-lantern buckets dotted around every corner. The stall they were standing at was a headwear one in particular, dawning different selections of cheap costume gear.

Mike picks up a pirate hat and rotates it in his hands, eyeing it with disgust. He mummbles something under his breath as he puts it back into his spot. The only good thing about Halloween to him is that it gave him an excuse to scare the shit out of people, and that if he took his cap off, no one would stare at his scars weird. Probably one of the only pros he can think about dressing up on the horrid holiday.

"Mike, look!" Said security guard lazily turns to the voice, eyes widening and going stiff as his gaze lands on Jeremy.

The nightwatch held up too different headbands; one with tuffy cat ears, the other with floppy rabbit ones. "We're going to need c-costumes for the Halloween special Fazbears is planning, r-right?"

Smiling as he plops the cat ears onto his head. "Fritz said I should t-try to be something s-simple..." He switches to the rabbit ears, giving the security guard an innocent smile. "S-should be the kitty o-or the bunny?"

Mike swallows. "Yes"

147: Jealous

What do you call that feeling when you want to stalk up to someone and just break their teeth? Maybe their fingers? Oh, even better: their spine. Though, in this case Mike wouldn't mind settling for snapping the neck either.

His fingers tapp harshly on the table as he watches the rebel student swing their arm over Jeremy's seat, the nightwatch much too engrossed with his textbook to notice.Suddenly, an idea forms in the security guard's mind.

He tries to hide his grin with his coffee as the student limps out of the coffeeshop, only sparing the confused Jeremy a simple shrug.

148: Staple

It's clear that Jeremy hasn't got a clue how to properly tie a tie. Luckily for him, good guy Mike tries to teach the poor dweeb the way of the looping and the layering.

But before lessons begin, Mike is actually curious as to how the nightwatch was even able to have the fabric stick to his shirt. So the next locker room dressing, he bluntly asks about it.

Jeremy blinks, buttoned his shirt, held the loose tie up to his neck and reached for the stapler sitting innocently on the desk. In one quick movement, he staples the tie to his shirt, careful of the skin underneath before looking back up to Mike for a response.

He doesn't know why the guard is laughing so hard.

149: Kink

Fingers lightly scrape over his head, running along the stitches. It's a feeling similar to what a dog would feel if you had scratched behind it's ears or down it's neck; something that either sent a comfortable warmth to rumble in his chest, or a seething heat to pulse through his veins.

Mike takes a deep breath as Jeremy's fingers trail over his skin, gently pricking at the marks.

The brunette remains unaware of the sensation he was providing, instead intrigued by his own curiosity. "Does it hurt?" He asks, pressing a finger down on a mark and gliding over the damaged skin. "W-when you scratch them, I mean"

The older man bites his lip, hesitating. "No, it doesn't hurt"

He remains silent, clenching his fist as the nightwatch continues to trace the jagged lines. Half of him is wondering why the younger man isn't disgusted in the slightest, the other half of him is too busy purring when Jeremy accidently runs a nail over the scars.

150: Gentle

Mike is not a gentle man.

He certainly acts how he looks; brash and impulsive, seemenly sinister. His attitude was a sour as he liked his coffee. Some would describe him as harsh, cruel, brutal, cold and at some times; inhumane. These were just a few descriptions from the people he's been unfortunate enough to have known, and for his own sake, he doesn't want to hear the rest of them.

He was bullied, harassed, outlasted and in the worst moments: pitied. It would be worse to say he had this sort of childhood instead of denying he ever had a childhood at all. With those memories, it wasn't a surprise when these woes followed him into maturity, leaving a cold stone man with a grinding sneer, glare as piercing as ice as his finger's twitched into fist.

There was no denying it: He had trust issues, anger problems, was too reckless and sometimes made the more selfish choices in life then he knows he shouldn't have. It's wrong, but he's already too deep in his faults to turn over a new leaf, so he plays that role. He plays the man who'd rather break another man's teeth and snap a limb over a little fender bender instead of being kind about it. He's certainly tried to be 'nice', he really has, but it seems that he can't be repaired.

Someone like him has the hands of steel, strong and capable of beating and breaking the world to whatever he pleased.

So why do they shake as they hover over Jeremy's body?

He swallows, his fingers reaching up to grace the nightwatch's cheek's. The brunette blinks as a soft touch trails down to his neck, baffled at the uncharacteristic motion of softness.

Mike wants to say there are butterflies in his stomach, but it's starting to feel more like wasps now. "Can you....Can you say that again? Please?"

Jeremy shuffles and looks down to his shoes, avoiding the older man's gaze. "Y-you heard me...." He mumbles, a heat rising in his skin. "I'm not going to say it again..."

He can feel the heat rise to his finger tips when he brushes over the brunette's ear, and without thinking, both hands are on the sides of the teen's face, gently bringing green eye's back to blue. "I heard you" Mike whispers, the distance between them shrinking by their breaths, "I heard you, and I want to hear you again"

The look on Jeremy's face makes him bite his lip. "Please"

A shudder ran down Jeremy's spine. For Mike to say 'please' twice in one day, much less one minute was something not to be taken lightly. "This was h-hard enough as it was, Mike. Y-you don't....please don't m-make me s-say it again...."

To his discomfort, the older man takes a step forward, effectively forcing the nightwatch backward. Jeremy inwardly hisses as his back meets the cold metal of the locker room wall. Throw that in with the locked hold the guard had him in; and there was no sign of escape.

To make matters intensive, there's hot breath on his chin as Mike cranes down to press their foreheads together. "Please, Jeremy" A thumb glides over his eyes, pushing brunette bangs away. "Don't lie to me. Do anything and everything but lie to me about this....Do you mean it?"

Jeremy's throat is going dry, a feeling unequal to the goosebumps left behind from bandaged finger's. "Y-yes...."

"Then say it again"

"....I c-can't-"

Trembling hands fall from his neck, moving down to the nightwatch's wrist. Jeremy doesn't have time, or even will to protest as he's crushed against the lockers. He can see Mike's unspoken apology in his eyes as he grinds his teeth, pressing against the younger male. Jeremy notes in the back of his mind that while the palm wrapped around his pinned wrist are firm, he can feel the small twitches as the olderman steadies himself.

"You can't do this to me. You just can't" Mike's mouth is pressed against his ear now, his voice painfully strained. "This changes things, Jeremy. You can't just say something like that and pretend it doesn't affect me. You can't pretend that I can overlook that. That you....." Towards the end of his sentence, he begins to choke. "You can't...."

If Jeremy's hands weren't pinned to his sides, they would have woven around the security guard's figure, into chilling embrace. But instead, his fingers curl into his palm as his lungs go weak. "Why?" The word comes out strangled, "W-why is it so i-important to you?..."

"Because it killed me, Jeremy" Mike mutters, "For the love of fuck....Say it again"

Jeremy's lip quivered, taking a deep breath. "I love you"

His breath was cut short as Mike's mouth moved to his, pressing firmly against the nightwatch. Jeremy naturally emits some sort of distress noise, but the pressure doesn't lessen. They're still crushed against each other, the shapes of their bodies becoming natural to each other and warmth pumping fast in their blood becoming more evident as Mike breathes into him.

Jeremy doesn't stop the action, and for a moment, he doesn't know why. This sort of intimacy wasn't what he was used to, certainly had no experience with the play whatsoever, and if remembers correctly, Mike hasn't cared much for affection anyhow, much less physical activity of it.

Instinctively, his eyes are closed. He can't find it within himself to keep them open, the sensations are much too overwhelming. The weight of dominance in Mike's movements are much too heavy for Jeremy to push him away, though, the nightwatch doesn't know if he'd even want to. With their distance, their chest pushed dangerously against one another, Jeremy can feel his heart beat. He can feel it run as it speeds to match it's pace with his own.

He gives a little whimper as Mike manages to ease his bottom lip lower, slipping inside his mouth.

Jeremy's too engrossed by the wet roughness to feel hands leave his wrist, positioning at his waist. His neck arches, Mikes pressing harder in approval as he pauses in a beat. Wrapped fingers danced as they trailed down to the brunette's hips, hovering just underneath the shirt hems. They waited patiently for the younger male to acknowledge them, begging for his permission.
It's only when those fingers slip under the clothing and slowly begin to glide does Jeremy gain control of himself, arms wrapping around Mike's neck to pull him closer. The dents in the lockers behind him were digging uncomfortably into his back, but it was hard to notice with the coldness following up his chest. Tapping against his flustered skin, the security guard pauses.

Suddenly, he pulls away. As his tongue moves past his lips, Jeremy feels a whine escape his throat. He pales, red blush showing brightly against his porcelain skin as he realized the sound he just made. The only thing making it worse was the icy glare glowering him down.

Jeremy may have been the one with tears pricking at his eyes, but he wasn't the only one who felt so entirely exposed.

Mike's expression twist into something along the lines of disbelief and horror as he listens to the nighhwatch silently whimper, blinking and taking shattering breathes as he stills. "I shouldn't have done that...I really shouldn't have done that..." He chokes, palms clammy as the feeling of Jeremy underneath him still burned in his conscious. "I'm sorry..."

He waits, held in his place and patiently awaits for a reaction. He'll go for anything right about now, whether it's a soft cry or a scream to get away from him, anything was better than the silence. Because right now, silence was the highlighter that emphasized every last touch, every last sensation they felt together.

Mike was too damn impulsive, too fucking selfish. He finds himself on the verge of panting as Jeremy collects himself, his taste still lingering on his teeth. He should have been slower. He shouldn't have been so forceful. He shouldn't have been...what he usually is.

But to his surprise, Jeremy only sniffs. There's no outburst or cry when small hands reach up to grab hold of the front of his shirt, burying his wet face into the security guard. There's a little sliver of saliva wetting the corner of his mouth as he wheezes against him, out of breath. "W-why are you s-sorry...?" He sputters, "I...I did something wrong d-didn't I...?"

The crack in his voice and the hint of a sob made felt like a hammer in Mike's gut. Naturally, he soothes the brunette wrapping around him dearly while cooing soft 'shhhs' in his hair. "No, Jere, you haven't done anything wrong, I swear..." He trails off, the teen going quiet. "This was my fault, ok? I wanted it to happen and I didn't ask you first..."

"It's n-not your f-fault..." Jeremy's hitches against him, swallowing dry air. "W-what you want...is w-what I want...."

The expression he's receives in response is priceless. Mike promptly pushes Jeremy back just enough to corner him again, strain at him with wide blue eyes. For a moment, the guard is at lost for words, captured by the glossy emerald gaze. Then, with his mouth hanging in a gape, he manages a sentence.

"What I want...What I need is something you'd have to give me" He voices. "You would have no idea what you'd be getting yourself into"

Jeremy shifts, stilling at the words. A tiny, soft smile made it's way onto the night watch's face, and he beamed up at the awe-stricken man with flustered cheeks and short breaths. "I trust you, Mike" He murmurs, "I love you"

Blue eyes flash as lips thin into a line, darting down to stare at the night watch's lips. His spit was still there, thick in his head as he runs his tongue over his teeth. Zeroing in on Jeremy's exposed neck, there's an itch in the back of his throat as he visually roams over smooth skin. With heavy lungs, Mike leans him against the locker, hands falling back into place around the night watch's waist. Jeremy already has himself wrapped around the older man when Mike lands a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Say it again"

Mike was not a gentle man, but damn him if he didn't try.
---
Reminder: I use my own Au, please respect that.

sleep is for the weak