"Hey. Hey!"

One moment Jeremy was acutely focused on a take-home quiz, Squip soothingly running its hands up and down his sides. The next, his chair was pulled away from the desk and turned, swiveled around to face whoever had been behind him. Before he could really comprehend who it was, he was hit in the face with a pillow. Twice. He practically fell out of his chair, the shock causing him to lean back and blink repeatedly at Michael. He looked upset, pillow raised and threatening to hit him again, lips pursed.

"I'm talking to you." Michael narrowed his eyes, and when Jeremy didn't respond, the pillow collided with his face again.

"Dude, what the fuck." He shoved the pillow away and pushed the chair back to get out of swinging distance until the back of the chair rolled up against the desk.

"I've been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes."

"So you thought assaulting me with a pillow was the solution? I'm studying!" Michael barked a laugh and tossed the pillow back onto his bed.

"Is it active? The Squip?"

"Uh, yeah, why--"

"Turn it off."

"What? Why?"

"I want to talk to you. Privately." He crossed his arms, staring him in the face, and Jeremy shrunk back against the chair. He almost argued with him, but the look on his face was so serious. He swallowed and glanced at Squip, who said nothing. Jeremy nodded slowly.

"Okay. Fine. It's gone." Squip vanished and Jeremy scrubbed at his face, where the pillow had hit him. What did Michael have in that thing, comic books? Michael advanced on him, jabbing a finger aggressively into his chest.

"What's up with you? You've been super shady, you've been blowing me off. Half the time you look like a zombie." Jeremy pushed Michael's hand away from him.

"What's up with me? What's up with you?" It was a weak comeback and he knew it. Michael snorted.

"I need to know what's going on in your head. This is like high school all over again." He dropped his arms to his side, looking less angry and more tired. "We're still in this together. You know that, right?"

"Of course I know that." Jeremy rubbed at his nose irritably, hot shame creeping up his neck. He wasn't wrong; he had been isolating himself recently. He hadn't had a real conversation with Michael in an unusually long time. On top of that, he'd been lying to him, keeping secrets, and Michael wasn't stupid. It was only a matter of time that Michael noticed something had changed, and it looked like that time was now.

Shit.

"Okay." Michael pulled the chair away from his desk and sat across from him. "Then spill."

Jeremy stared blankly, feeling hotter and hotter by the second. 'Oh, yeah, Michael, I've been fucking Squip in my sleep. It's been great. We're totally dating.' He couldn't say that. How could he say that? Fuck, shit, fuck. Michael was watching him, his every move, and he could feel himself start to sweat. Maybe Michael should be a cop, he was good at this interrogation thing.

"Uh, h-how much do you, um, know already?" Michael leaned forward, foot tapping.

"How much do you think I know?"

Jeremy's hands fidgeted in his lap, looking around nervously, trying to escape out from under Michael's gaze. It felt oppressive; he almost activated Squip just to feel better, but that would probably just piss him off more.

"Um. I-I.... You see, it's complicated, like..." Michael wasn't blinking. He'd always been good at staring contests. Jeremy squirmed. "I'm... sort of dating Squip?"

Jeremy looked away quickly, at the floor, but he glanced up a few times at the proceeding silence. Michael was still watching him, expression mostly the same, but his eyebrows had risen a bit, eyes a little wider. He tapped his fingers anxiously against the hard plastic of the chair. Should he continue? Michael seemed to be expecting him to based on his lack of response. God, he was such a fuckup.

"Okay. More... More than dating. We're, um," he swallowed, blinking repeatedly, "we're, you know... Couples, th-they do stuff. Like... sleep... together? Kind of literally, in this case." He couldn't look at Michael anymore. It physically hurt to move his head, neck stiff, eyes fixated on Michael's still tapping foot. He wasn't saying anything. Why wouldn't he say anything? His head was going to explode.

After what felt like an agonizing eternity, becoming harder and harder to breathe, Michael finally moved. Jeremy looked up as Michael sat back in his seat, eyes closed, inhaling deeply, hands pressed together.

"That's the first honest thing you've said to me in weeks." Jeremy deflated a little, still burning with humiliation. Michael opened his eyes and Jeremy froze, hands gripping the sides of his seat, squeezing for dear life.

"Michael, I'm sorry, I-"

"Nope." Michael held up a finger, effectively silencing him. "Shut up."

Jeremy nodded his head a few times, swallowing. Michael stood up and moved behind the chair as Jeremy watched helplessly. He could practically feel his blood pressure rising. He took another deep breath, shoulders rising and falling.

"I'm not even going to try to claim I get it." He faltered a little, frowning. Michael looked incredibly uncomfortable suddenly and Jeremy couldn't exactly blame him. He thought his dad trying to have The Talk with him (without pants on) was going to go down in history as the most awkward, humiliating conversation of his life. He thought wrong. This was worse. Way worse. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice? We share a room, Jeremy. Watching porn on your laptop or whatever is one thing, but Jesus. Cool it a bit, would you? It's like puberty 2.0 in here."

"Oh my God." Jeremy buried his face in his hands. Maybe he'd get smited by lightning in some freak accident so this conversation could end. Would the universe be kind enough to give him that kind of sympathy? Probably not.

"And I'm... I don't think it's a good idea to do it with the crazy supercomputer in your head, but I'm not going to tell you to stop. Your feelings are your feelings and it's... yeah. You get it." Michael grabbed the back of his chair and sighed. "This is some crazy weird uncharted territory, Jeremy. I believe you when you say Squip is better, but you could get hurt. Badly. It was pretty bad last time and I... I don't want to lose you."

"Michael..." He'd been really caught up with himself, hadn't he? He never really considered what this was like from Michael's perspective. "I'm... I'm fine, really. Nothing is going to happen."

"I need you to promise me." Michael stepped over to him, squatting down so they were eye level. "Promise me that you'll be careful. You can't spend all your time in your head. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like shit. You've been ignoring me. That's why we're having this conversation."

"Yeah. Yeah, I promise. I'll... Put some breaks on, I guess." Michael pressed his lips into a thin line and grabbed his shoulders.

"I get a say in this. If I think things are getting too sketchy, we end it. You drink the Mountain Dew Red. Promise."

"I..." Jeremy looked away, fidgeting.

"Jeremy."

"Okay. Yeah. I know. You get final say. It won't get bad, I promise. Seriously."

Michael was silent, head bowed, and then he stood, scratching the back of his head.

"Alright. Great. Conversation over." He turned toward the wall and Jeremy exhaled. "Just answer me one thing."

"Yeah. Anything."

"Is the sex really that good?"

"I'm not answering that question." He face was red for an entirely new reason, now.

"Hey, I deserve to know." Michael finally smiled, small and uncertain, but the intensity was gone. Jeremy could breathe a little easier now. He just had Squip to worry about.

Times like this Jeremy really, really wished he could hear what the Squip was thinking. It wasn't fair; it had unfettered access to all of his thoughts and feelings, but Squip was a complete guessing game. The only times Jeremy could really be sure how it felt was when the emotion was strong enough for him to feel it, too, or Squip had a look on its face that revealed something or other. Most of the time it had a great poker face.

Things had been a little awkward since he'd reactivated Squip, and rather than really talk it simply reviewed the memories he had of the conversation with him and Michael. The rest of the night was filled with uncomfortable silence. He was on his bed, schoolwork abandoned for the evening, half-heartedly playing Tetris while Squip watched over his shoulder. Jeremy was almost starting to relax, the stress from earlier mellowing out into a mild hum of anxiety in the back of his mind. He could manage that for now.

But then Squip made a disgruntled noise, and he was certain it wasn't because he'd fucked up placing an L piece.

-Are... you okay?-

Jeremy frowned a little when Squip pressed its forehead against his shoulder.

Michael is... pertinacious.

-What?-

He didn't even know what that word meant.

He's been texting me incessantly for the last hour and a half.

Jeremy stole a glance over at Michael, who was sitting cross-legged on his bed, face glued to his phone, lips pursed.

-What's he saying?-

Essentially, what he told you earlier. Making vague threats. He's very protective of you; you made a good choice when you chose him as a friend.

Jeremy smiled, letting the Tetris pieces fall without direction. He wasn't going to win this round, anyway.

-Yeah, I know. I'm glad we didn't completely fuck it up back in high school. He's my favorite person.-

He fiddled with the buttons on the Gameboy.

-You are, too.-

Squip brushed its hand up his throat, voice thoughtful.

Am I really?

-Yeah, I want this to work.-

It was quiet then, arms wrapped lazily around him, lips pressed to the back of his neck.

I suppose I've been selfish with you.

Jeremy rested a hand on Squip's knee, leaning back.

I've wanted you all to myself, but that isn't quite fair. I'll have to fix that.

Squip nuzzled lazily into his hair.

Michael has been waiting for me to take my turn in our game of Words With Friends. He's upset about it.

-He got you to play Words With Friends with him? Seriously?-

This was news. Squip shrugged slightly.

He was very convincing. But I've been busy with you.

Jeremy could feel it smile against his scalp. It tickled.

You should do that. Maybe it'll calm him down.

Squip sighed and Jeremy gave its knee a quick pat.

If he tried hard enough, Jeremy could almost convince himself this was halfway normal.