#but making mikey meal pine is just incredible cathartic charot....

[actualbird]

(wc: 2.2k. more tagalog! more pining michael! babysitting! baking! part 1. part 2. or read everything on ao3 over here.)

To heerefarwhereveryouare

:(((((((

From heerefarwhereveryouare

??? What’s up?

To heerefarwhereveryouare

dude super sorry but i gotta cancel on the star trek marathon emergency thing came up in the form of Responsibility

From heerefarwhereveryouare

Awww. What do you mean?

To heerefarwhereveryouare

a couple of relatives had a thing that led to a thing and they need somebody to take care of a thing that somebody is me that thing im taking care of is a 7 year old aka im babysitting my gremlin cousin today :((( :(((((((((((

From heerefarwhereveryouare

Oh, okay. Can I come over? We can still hang. Plus, you’re kind of terrible with anything that can be defined as a child, so I’m a little worried.

To heerefarwhereveryouare

im not that bad :(((( but yes pls get over here oh my god

From heerefarwhereveryouare

Alright, I’ll be there in a few. Turn that :( upside down (:

-

Michael admits that he finds kids confusing, but he really isn’t that bad with them. He just doesn’t know how to interact with kids, but that’s him with almost everybody. If it’s a non-Jeremy lifeform, chances are he really has to focus to understand anything that’s going on, or just wing everything completely and hope nobody gets injured.

Nikki is definitely a non-Jeremy lifeform.

Nikki is a tiny seven year old terror with at least five colorful clips in her hair at a time. It took at least three family gatherings for her to tolerate Michael within a three meter radius of her, and two more to actually talk to him. Tita says she’s just naturally shy around new people, so Michael tries to relate to her, but most of his attempts are met with head tilts, suspicious squinting, or, when she gets more comfortable around him, derisive comments.

(“It’s broken,” she tells him in Tagalog, waving the Game Boy Color in Michael’s face. “I can’t see anything.”

“It doesn’t have a backlight, so you have to play it somewhere well lit,” he explains.

She frowns, “That’s lame.”

Michael would rather an axe to the face than anybody dissing his Game Boy Color.)

Suffice to say, he’s thankful that at least he won’t be dealing with her alone today.

“Hey, dude,” Michael greets Jeremy at his front door when he arrives. “Thanks for coming.”

“No problem,” Jeremy says, stepping in. “Where’s your cousin?”

“Living room,” he answers. “Just a heads up, she doesn’t speak much English. She can understand it, yeah, so you can relax, but she only speaks a little..”

“That’s alright,” Jeremy shrugs, walking into the living room.

Nikki is sprawled out on the couch in the living room with the kind of defiant pettiness all kids under ten seem to have, swiping disinterestedly on her ipad.

“Yo, Nikki, my friend is here,” Michael calls out. Immediately, Nikki jolts, whipping her head to Jeremy before shyly ducking behind a throw pillow like a cave goblin seeing light for the first time. “Say hi.”

Nikki, obviously, does not say hi, but Jeremy isn’t deterred.

Jeremy sits on the opposite end of the couch and says in a soft, gentle voice, “Hi, I’m Jeremy. What’s your name?”

Puzzled, Michael says, “I just told yo—”

“Nikki, po,” she says softly, eyeing Jeremy over the pillow.

Michael blinks.

“Nice to meet you, Nikki. I like your clips.” Jeremy says, and Nikki actually smiles, raising the pillow up higher to hide it.

“Salamat po,” she says, fiddling with one of her clips that has a tiny cupcake on it.

“Uh, she said ‘thank you’,” Michael translates when Jeremy glances at him, slightly dazed at whatever is going on here.

“You’re welcome. Do you like baking?” Jeremy asks, and Michael is pretty sure he just ended up in another universe because Nikki shoves the pillow down and grins brightly. “We can make something today, if you want?”

“Yeah!” She says, turning to Michael. It’s almost terrifying seeing her smile in his direction. “Kuya Mikey, can we? Please?”

“Wh—Uh. Okay. Sure.” Michael says off of Jeremy’s meaningful glancing and eyebrow movements. “Let’s go check if there’s stuff in the kitchen.”

“Yay!” Nikki cheers, hopping off of the couch and running to the kitchen.

What.

“What,” Michael says to Jeremy’s smug looking expression. “What did you do? Oh my god? Are you some magic kid whisperer or something?”

“It’s not magic,” Jeremy rolls his eyes. “Kids just like doing what they like. Have you only ever tried to talk about video games with her?”

“Yeah but—”

“Not everybody likes video games,” Jeremy says, which, duh of course Michael knows. It’s weird, and he can’t really process it but he knows. “Some people like baking, Mikey.”

“Shut it,” Michael grumbles. “Keep it up, though. I haven’t seen her look anything other than bored or unimpressed, so as weirded out as I am, this an improvement.” Michael leans dramatically against Jeremy. “What would I ever do without you, Jeremy Heere?”

“Probably crash and burn,” Jeremy laughs. “Dude, get off.”

They walk into the kitchen where Nikki is standing, blinking up at cupboards she can’t reach, probably figuring out that this is not her house and that she has no idea where anything is. She turns to them expectantly.

“Okay so,” Michael opens a cupboard. And another one. And another. Just when he’s about to give up, he hits jackpot. “Bingo! We’ve got some brownie mix leftover from the last time we, uh—” Jeremy elbows him the side. “—the last time we made totally normal regular brownies.”

“Are you okay with making brownies, Nikki?” Jeremy asks in that terrible, horrible, no good, very bad soft voice of his that’s starting to make Michael dumb and fluttery.

“Yeah,” she nods enthusiastically, looking at Jeremy like he hung the stars. Which, okay, he can relate to.

“Okay. Michael can you get uh,” Jeremy reads the instructions on the box. “A bowl, a whisk, and whatever, you know the rest. Nikki, can you fetch me two eggs? I’ll get the other stuff.”

Nikki practically bolts to the fridge, and Michael can’t help but smile at seeing her so excited. When he returns laden with a bowl, a whisk, and a brownie pan, Nikki is jumping up and down next to Jeremy, an egg in each hand.

“Here,” Michael hands Jeremy the bowl and Jeremy pours the mix in.

“Uy, wala akong makita,” Nikki says, tugging at Jeremy’s jacket.

“Sorry, uh,” Jeremy glances at Michael. “What did she say?”

“She can’t see what you’re doing,” Michael tells him, looking at Nikki whose head just barely peeks past the kitchen counter.

“Oh, well,” Jeremy bends down and lifts Nikki up much to her delight, if her delighted squee is anything to go by, before depositing on the counter. Michael’s heart clenches for some reason. “Better?”

“Yes po,” she smiles. “Salamat, Kuya Jeremy.”

Michael is speechless.

Jeremy tasks Michael with greasing the pan while he cracks one egg into the mix, doing it slowly in front of Nikki so that she can crack the next one, which miraculously ends in only a few shells landing in the mix. Jeremy lets Nikki mix everything together.

“Pwede ko pong i-try?” Nikki says, tongue dangerously close to the whisk.

Jeremy may not understand the words but he does understand that mischievous look Nikki has. He swipes the whisk away from her grubby mitts. “Nope, sorry. It’ll be better later when it’s finished.” He says. Nikki crosses her arms and pouts, which causes Jeremy to laugh, which makes her pout falter.

They pour the batter into the pan, expertly greased, if Michael may say so himself, and pop it in the oven.

“The box says it’ll take around twenty minutes.” Michael says. Nikki is crouching by the oven, staring at the brownies.

“Alright,” Jeremy says, patting his pockets. “Hey, I think I left my phone in your living room. I’ll be right back. Watch over the brownies for me?”

Michael raises an eyebrow, “They’re not gonna walk away—”

“I will, Kuya Jeremy,” Nikki says solemnly, face as serious as if she’s a bodyguard and that she’ll guard these brownies with her life.

“Thanks,” Jeremy smiles, and he leaves the kitchen.

There’s a beat of awkward silence.

Then Nikki says in Filipino, “Do you have a crush on Kuya Jeremy?”

Michael is really glad he isn’t eating anything this time.

“I—I’m sorry what?” He stutters. “What are you talking about?

“You’re always looking at him,” she grins.

“Yeah, well, you’re always looking at him too!”

“Because I like him too,” Nikki whispers.

“What? That’s not allowed. You’ve known him for like, forty minutes.” Michael says, an odd, protective feeling washing over him for Jeremy. Which is ridiculous.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she steps on his foot.

“Ow!”

“And you better not tell him! It’s a secret!”

“I won’t, don’t worry,” Michael sighs. “I haven’t even told him myself.”

Nikki gasps, and fuck. “So you do like him!”

“No, I don’t. Shut up,” he hisses. The glint in Nikki’s eyes should’ve warned him that only trouble was to come, but by the time it dawns on him, she’s running out of the kitchen with her tiny little goblin legs.

“KUYA JEREMY,” Nikki yells, skidding into the living room, fuckity fuck. “Kuya Mikey li—”

Before any traitorous words can be said, Michael does a sick slide on the floor, catches her, and covers her awful demon mouth.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, please,” Michael hisses to Nikki. “Please, I am not kidding, please.”

“Uh,” Jeremy says from the couch, phone in hand. “What’s happening?”

“Noth—Oh my god, ew, did you lick me?” Michael pulls his hand away from Actual Confirmed Gremlin Nikki Mell.

Nikki sticks his tongue out at him, but she looks like she maybe might have an ounce of mercy for Michael.

Maybe.

She points at Michael, “Torpe si Kuya M—.” and he covers her mouth again.

“What now?” Jeremy asks and, fuckity fucking fuck. He glances over to Michael. “What does torpe mean?”

Michael is just about to pull another lie straight out of his ass but Nikki beats him to the punch by biting him, Jesus.

“Dude, not cool.” Michael holds his hand to his chest, hoping to look sad and pitiful so Nikki won’t do anything else that’ll jeopardize Michael’s soul.

It doesn’t work. Nikki stands proud and says in straight English, “It means somebody who is too shy to say how they feel to their crush.”

Michael never thought he’d one day vividly fantasize about launching a seven year old child out a window, but here he is now.

“Okaaaay,” Jeremy says cautiously, picking up on the tension. “So what were you guys talking abo—”

“You!” Nikki says.

“YEAH, YOU AND CHRISTINE,” Michael all but screams. “Haha! We were talking about how you still haven’t told Christine how you feel yet.”

Nikki scrunches her eyebrows, “Christine? Sino yun?”

“Oh, well, I guess that makes sense.” Jeremy, oh so thankfully oblivious Jeremy just smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. “I really do get shy around her, so yeah, I’m torpe.”

“Yeah, you sure are, dude,” Michael carries a squirming Nikki over to the couch and deposits her next to Jeremy. “Jer, why don’t you tell her more about Christine, yeah? I’ll go check on the brownies.”

Michael goes back to the kitchen and catches his breath. That was a close call. That was several close calls in the span of a very short time. Jeremy and Nikki are still in the living room, so this is not time to have a Jeremy Feelings Crisis. Michael takes a second to rein everything back in, then he goes to fetch an oven mitt.

Once the brownies are safely cooling on the counter, he returns to the living room. Nikki is staring adoringly at Jeremy who seems to be waxing poetic on how great Christine was when she was called to read an excerpt of the book they’re reading in class. Nikki notices Michael, and for a seven year old, she conveys quite a lot of emotion into a slight frown.

It’s a look that he interprets as sorry you like your best friend who likes somebody else. Ugh.

“Yo, the brownies are done,” Michael says, and Nikki is back to her bubbly goblin persona in a second. “But they’re still cooling so—”

Nikki runs past him.

“—so I guess you can just go anyway and burn your mouth on molten fudge, or something.” Michael says to the living room and Jeremy.  “Dude, thanks again.”

“For what?”

“For coming over, for making Nikki happy, for baking brownies with us,” Michael tells him. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s really no problem. She’s fun, and I get to hang out with you,” Jeremy slings an arm of Michael shoulders. “What are gagos for, right?”

Oh geez, Michael thinks, suppressing his laughter. “Absolutely.”

When they get to the kitchen, Nikki is trying and failing to climb onto the counter to get to the brownies. Jeremy lifts her up onto the counter as he slices the brownies, Nikki excitedly swinging her legs back and forth. Michael watches, eyes trained on Jeremy as he happily prattles on about Christine’s really cool socks or something. Nikki meets his eyes a few times looking way too understanding for a tiny monster, and Michael just shrugs at her.

Yeah, he’s torpe as fuck, but it’s fine. Being Jeremy’s friend is enough, and he wouldn’t trade it for a dumb confession.

He’s okay. Really.

( glossary of stuff not defined in fic: tita = aunt po = it doesnt...mean anything/have an english translation. it's something we add in sentences when speaking to somebody older or with more authority. it's a sign of respect. kuya = older brother, but is also an honorific for dudes who arent actually your older brother “Pwede ko pong i-try?” = can i try it? "Sino yun?" = who is that?)