Chapter Text
Jake frowned at the lines spilling out of the registers. "C'mon, let's just do self-check."
Jeremy followed him through the Target with a bucket of Fireball shots dangling in his hand. Why Jake couldn't carry it in his free hand, he didn't get an answer to when he asked. "Will it even let us scan alcohol?"
Jake wasted no time scanning a twenty-four pack of something on the first empty machine. A notification popped up requesting an employee login. "Just needs to get approved is all. I do this so much that I'm basically a pro at these things."
He took his wallet out and fished for his ID. Jeremy looked at the red light blinking above them dubiously, but set the bucket on the cooler of marked up sodas next to the machine anyway. (Who could get a single bottle of Dr. Pepper for $2.29 when they could get twelve cans for just over double that?)
"They'll probably wanna see yours too," Jake said simply.
"Figured." Jeremy was already digging around his pocket. His face pretty much hadn't changed since tenth grade, so he was used to getting carded. He rarely took Jake up on his bar offers, and regretted the hangover every time, but was no stranger to the process.
"Just means you're gonna look great at forty." Jake caught an employee's eye and pointed at Jeremy accusingly. "He's sixteen."
"Nuh-uh!" Jeremy huffed indignantly, sliding his ID out of his wallet. "I'm fooour... teen."
His brain turned off when the employee approached. His face was framed with rectangular glasses and dark, styled hair. He was taller than Jeremy, but shorter than Jake, (not that either of those was an accomplishment,) and wore what was probably just a 'customer service' smile that made Jeremy's heart do a front flip anyway.
The employee snorted. "I'm going to have to see some proof that you're as old as you say you are."
"Uhh..." Jeremy felt as though he was a teenager caught trying to buy booze, so much so that he didn't remember his ID was literally in his hand until Jake gently took his wrist and extended it out to the employee.
His thumb brushed Jeremy's when he took the card. The echoey music in the store somehow tuned in over the beeping and chatter around them.
'Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight. Must've been somethin' you said. I just died in your arms tonight.'
"Hey, you're a day younger than me."
And just like that, the music was just a murmur in the white noise of the grocery store. It felt like a gag ripped straight out of a Disney Channel sitcom from 2009.
Jeremy blinked back into the fantasy that was his current reality. "Wh- uh, really?"
"Yeah," the employee handed his ID back. "My birthday's May 31st."
Jeremy almost wished him a happy birthday right there, despite being over six months early. But he caught himself and what he actually said was, "Hap- uh- good. For you."
What the fuck was that, Heere?
The employee snickered and checked Jake's ID, who was very obviously trying not to do the same. Jeremy ducked his head to hide his flushing face and glanced at the employee's name tag.
'Michael M.' was printed neatly in some all caps serif font, which hung from a Pac-Man lanyard. Of course, Jeremy didn't have enough functioning brain cells to remember the word, and ended up saying, "Nice uh, neck. Thingy."
Zero for two. He was killing it today.
Michael looked up. "Oh, thanks. Nice t-shirt," he leaned over Jeremy's hand, "Jeremiah."
Jeremy clumsily shoved his ID back into its sleeve. How had he not put it away yet? Not that he'd get in trouble for not putting it away immediately, but nobody had called him Jeremiah since role call with substitute teachers that didn't know-
"Or do you prefer Jeremy? Possibly Peter?"
This would be how he died: embarrassment followed by weak knees and cracking his skull open on the linoleum floor in an Apocalypse of the Damned t-shirt. "Je- Jeremy is- yup, yeah. And, thanks."
Michael smiled and nodded. Oh man, that smile. "Jeremy the AotD fan it is then. A man of true class."
Jeremy didn't know if it was even possible for him to flush more. "Do you prefer 'Mike,' or..."
Michael handed Jake's ID back with a scoff, who was just watching the show at this point. "Mikes are all douches."
"Approval needed," the self-check crackled, making Jeremy jump out of his skin.
"Yeah yeah, I know," Michael mumbled to the machine and scanned a barcode on the back of his nametag. "I should start calling these things Mike."
Zero for three, Jeremy. Zero for three.
"Alright," Michael said brightly, "you can scan freely."
Jeremy made some attempt at a friendly smile and hoped it didn't look too much like a grimace. He whispered a thanks and Michael walked off to help another customer.
Jake was silently wheezing next to him. "Oh my God."
Jeremy huffed. "Don't start."
"Neck thingy?"
"I panicked."
"Clearly." Jake scanned the bucket of Fireball and hit 'pay' on the screen.
"Shut up."
"You were awfully chatty for someone that leaves all the talking to me," he grinned as he put his card in the chip reader. "What's that all about?"
Jeremy elected to ignore his question. "I'm never going on another booze run with you again. Why do you even take me?"
"Because you'd never see the sun otherwise."
Jeremy yanked the receipt out of the slot. "Whatever."
"Thank you for shopping at Target."
He flipped the machine off.
Jake pocketed his wallet and gathered up their haul for the day. Though calling it 'theirs' was only by association of Jeremy being there. "Come on. Your brain has clearly shut itself off."
Jeremy rolled his eyes, but didn't argue. He just hoped that Jake would forget all about his flubbed social interaction by the next day.
Michael paused his current tutorial to an elderly woman on looking up produce to shoot Jeremy a smile as he passed. "Have a great day."
The words 'thank you' and 'you too' collided together and came out as an eloquent "Yoonk tyoo- um- thank- y-yeah."
"PFFF!" Jake didn't even try containing his laughter. Jeremy elbowed him as hard as he could.
Yeah, there was no way he was forgetting after the fourth strike...
▪︎▪︎▪︎
Despite Jeremy's overwhelming desire to never step foot in that Target ever again, he and Jake needed real groceries, kinda bad.
Jake steered the cart around with all the appropriate vroom vroom noises that one is supposed to make when turning each corner much more tightly than actually necessary. After needing to make several trips down aisles they'd already been through because Jake had forgotten something, Jeremy snatched the lined paper out of his hand and claimed he was no longer allowed to 'shopping list and drive.'
"Ya know they say that if you're craving a lot of pasta, it means you're sexually frustrated?"
Jeremy dropped his armful of pasta boxes into the cart. "Who's 'they?'"
Jake shrugged. "Ya know. 'They.' Alfredo or marinara?"
"Both."
He took some jars of sauce off the shelf. "'They' sure talk a lot."
"What else do 'they' say?"
"That you totally think that self-check dude is hot."
It'd been a week and Jake still hadn't let it go. Jeremy pushed through the heat in his face and tugged the front of the cart forward. "You shouldn't believe everything 'they' say."
Jake sent him an infuriating smirk. "'They' have yet to be proven wrong," he sing-songed.
"I'm not crushing on self-check dude," Jeremy insisted.
"I didn't say you were crushing, I said you thought he was hot."
"Regardless-"
"See?" Jake threw an arm out to him. "You can't even deny it!"
Jeremy huffed and decidedly steered the front of the cart toward the manned checkouts, because the lines were far shorter and they had too many groceries for the self-checks. No other reason. "I think we're done here."
Alright, so Michael had a pretty face. Big deal. Jeremy had gotten flustered over plenty of pretty faces over the years, including Jake's way back when. That didn't mean anything. He didn't know what it was about his floundering with Michael that was so worthy of teasing.
Jake drummed his fingers on the cart, looking over their haul while making popping noises to himself. "Oh shit, I forgot something."
"For the fourth time, we got the brownie mix."
"Not that. I'll be right back. Don't die or whatever!"
"Jake, what are-" And before Jeremy could say anything else, Jake was off sprinting to god-knows-where in the store.
Alright. Fine. The customer in front of him still had some groceries that needed ringing up and Jake was pretty good at getting back in line fast. Jeremy could do this without dying. Or whatever.
A manager came up next to the register with an employee in tow. He was noticeably shorter than said employee, and wore a black, metal name tag to separate himself from the typical laminated ones of the other workers. 'Richard,' it looked like?
"Alright, Allie," the manager tapped his pen to his notepad, "Michael's gonna be covering your break."
Oh come the fuck on...
Richard scribbled something and went to the next register down to ring up some alcohol in place of the teen cashier. Michael helped bag groceries as the customer in front of Jeremy finished paying. The girl on the register printed off the customer's receipt and bid them a good day. She tapped some buttons on her screen, bent down to grab her water bottle, and let Michael take the wheel.
Jeremy ducked his head and loaded the groceries onto the belt, hoping that Michael saw a high enough volume of customers every day that he wouldn't recognize him.
"Oh hey, I know you!"
No such luck.
Jeremy pretended that he'd only realized who was checking him out just then. "Hey, what are the chances?"
"Must be fate." Michael began scanning. "How are things going, Jeremy?"
Michael not only recognized him, but remembered his name. What were the chances indeed.
"Fine, I guess. Do you remember the names of everyone you card?"
"Nah. Just the cute ones," he said way too nonchalantly.
Jeremy was convinced that Michael was actively plotting to kill him. He needed to defend himself somehow. "You get a lot of those?"
Michael sent him a smirk. "Only the ones born on June 1st, 1999."
Defense proved to be futile.
"Pretty specific criteria," Jeremy almost choked.
"Oh yeah," Michael agreed as he grabbed the eggs. "Not with your dude today?"
That, Jeremy didn't know how to react to. "My... what?"
"The dude you were with last time. I dunno what he is to you and I didn't wanna assume. Family, or a friend, or a," he gave up with his repeated swiping of the stubborn eggs and scanned them with his hand scanner instead, "somethin' else."
Jeremy tried not to linger on Michael's implications behind 'somethin' else.' "Oh, uh, just my roommate. He went to grab some," he waved a pointless hand, "last minute whatever."
"Ah, right. Can't forget that."
"I guess not." Jeremy finally finished loading everything onto the belt and pulled the cart up to where Michael was setting the bagged items. It wasn't until now, when he wasn't locked in conversation, that Michael had a chance to lip sync to the song playing.
'Try to say live, live and let live. I'm no good, good at lip service. Except when they're yours, mi amore. I'm comin' for you and I'm makin' war.'
Jeremy knew Michael wasn't directing Fall Out Boy's stellar lyrics at him, but he still couldn't help but overthink it. "You're sure you don't commit any other IDs to memory?" he asked slowly.
Michael glanced up from his work. "Ask me your roommate's name."
"Really?"
"Come on, ask me," he said earnestly.
Jeremy rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that crept in. Alright, he'd humor him. "What's my roommate's name?"
Michael put on a theatrical voice with a pompous accent. "Born in the year of 1463 on Febtember forty-second, Sir Jameson Fredrick Flufferton the Thir- I dunno. I didn't look."
Jeremy laughed. He couldn't help it. He didn't know that Michael would lean that hard into his joke response. "When was he born?"
"I just told you, Febtember forty-second." Michael brought the accent back. "In the year of 1675 or whatever I said."
Jeremy snorted.
"I saw ninety-something and knew he was old enough."
"When does his ID expire?"
"I didn't even look at when yours expires."
"Ah, so you didn't do your job."
Michael nearly dropped one of the numerous pasta boxes on the belt, stifling a laugh. "No, I'm sucking up to you."
Jeremy reveled in the satisfaction of being the one to him off guard for a change. "No, sucking up to me would be seeing that my ID is expired and allowing me to buy alcohol anyway."
Michael scoffed and continued scanning. Then stopped. "...was your ID expired?"
Jeremy scoffed in return, setting a small stack of coupons on the counter. "No. But you didn't know that. You were too busy memorizing my birthday and my cute face."
Michael didn't have a quip for that one, instead sucking on his cheeks and scanning the coupons. "So when's your roommate coming back with that last minute whatever?"
"Uhh, I dunno. He should be-"
"Got it!" Jake barreled into the lane with a box of-
Oh for fuck's sake!
Jeremy wanted to slam his burning face into the PIN pad right then and there. "God fucking- really, Jake? Really?!"
Michael scanned the item thoughtlessly, then actually looked at what prompted such a strong reaction. He was laughing soon enough. "Ya know, I wouldn't have even noticed if you hadn't brought attention to it."
Jake caught the box of condoms that he slid across the counter. "Yeah, man. There's nothing weird about-"
Jeremy shoved his shoulder away. "Bags. Cart. Now."
"Bossy."
He ignored his roommate and dug for his wallet. Michael, for one, was still trying to recover from his laughing spell. "So are those for like, community use ooor...?"
Jeremy huffed and waved a hand at Jake. "Ask Sir Jacobson Lambington the fourth or whatever you called him."
This sparked a small back-and-forth between the two of them and let Jeremy deal with payment in the closest thing he could get to peace with all the astronomical embarrassment going around. Jake must've asked to know the total on their grocery trip after the coupons, because Michael whooped before he read out the number.
"One-sixty-nine sixty-nine, nice."
"Do we get a prize?" Jeremy deadpanned as he entered his PIN.
Michael printed out the receipt with a hum of thought. He then grabbed a pen and pulled the receipt off the printer. "Mmmaybe. If you choose to redeem it."
Jake seemed disproportionately excited by his scribbling while Jeremy paid it little mind. He took the receipt and pocketed it once Michael finished up. "Thanks."
Michael casually slid the next customer's items through the scanner. "Have a great day, Jeremy."
"You too." At least he didn't fuck that one up again.
The trip back to Jake's car was uncharacteristically void of conversation, and even loading up the trunk didn't prompt an improvised song narrating where he was putting things. Jeremy drove the cart into a return corral (because he was a good customer that didn't just leave carts out in the middle of the parking lot to make a poor, underpaid worker's job harder) and settled into the passenger seat.
Jake didn't turn the car on.
"...what."
"Aren't you gonna thank me?"
Jeremy wrinkled his nose at him. "For what?"
Jake stared for a moment. "Did you not see what he wrote on the receipt?"
Jeremy sighed and navigated around the seat belt to get to his pocket. "Probably just some survey to fill out for a chance to win a gift card or whatever. It's all just a ploy for the store to get more positive revie-"
'Jeremy - have a prize for being a cute dork with a $169.69 total. Text me if you want -Michael :)'
It was his fucking phone number.
"What can I say except you're welcome," Jake sang.
"You didn't do shit!"
"Condoms!"
"Correlation, not causation," Jeremy tried smoothing out the wrinkles in the receipt.
"Dude," Jake grinned as he held up the small box in his lap, "you're gonna be getting sooo much use out of these once you start chatting him up."
Jeremy smacked the condoms out of his hand and pounded on his shoulder, prompting him to cackle hysterically.
▪︎▪︎▪︎
Michael's number had been sitting in Jeremy's phone for about a week and a half now without a single message sent.
He shouldn't have been overthinking a First Message this much. Something letting Michael know who he was would've been perfectly sufficient. Maybe a meme to go with it for some kind of jumping off point.
Jeremy didn't know why he was putting it off, and having waited this long without actually texting him would probably raise questions. Maybe not though. Maybe Michael wouldn't ask. Maybe they wouldn't even message each other all that much and he would just become another abandoned contact like all those partners for group projects long passed.
Maybe Jeremy was overthinking it. No, he was definitely overthinking it. He just needed to...
Get his items scanned and get out.
He started with his twelve-pack (of soda, not liquor) and went from there. He chose a self-check simply because it was what he was closest to and not because of excess traffic anywhere else. It didn't make a difference.
It wasn't until he caught movement out of the corner of his eye that he slowed down. Michael was wiping down one of the other self checkouts while lip syncing to the song playing in the store.
'With the taste of your lips, I'm on a ride. You're toxic, I'm slippin' under.'
Jeremy chewed on his cheeks in an attempt to swallow his smile. Apparently he didn't do a great job, because Michael caught sight of him and played up his performance for the audience he now knew he had, dramatic poses and all.
'With the taste of your poison paradise. I'm addicted to you, don't you know that you're toxic.'
Jeremy couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up by the time Michael started playing various air instruments.
"Hey," Richard motioned to the whole everything Michael was doing, "we don't have time for that."
Michael looked out at the (nearly) empty store. The teen on the only open register was looking at their phone and Jeremy was the only one on self-check. "It appears we do."
The machine beeped at Jeremy, and only then did he see the problem. "Oh shit."
Michael began making his way over. "What's up? Did it all go horribly wrong?"
"Um."
"Do you need medical attention? Amputation? CPR?"
"I-" That last one made Jeremy splutter. "It uh, appears that I quadruple-scanned something while attending your performance."
Michael snorted at the screen. "Wow, not even a double scan."
Jeremy ducked his head while Michael messed around with the digital cart. "Yyyup, I'm cool like that."
"Ooo, brownie M&Ms. I wouldn't have judged you even if you had bought four bags of 'em."
"I'm holding you to that."
"Wouldn't have judged any purchases, really. I don't really pay any attention to the things people bring up here." Michael did pretty good at keeping a straight face, but it slowly began to crumble.
Jeremy sighed. "Please don't tell me you're thinking about the-" he got quieter, "fuckin', condom thing from last time."
"A little," Michael grinned, "sorry."
"Jake paid me back with lunch right after so," Jeremy scanned a bucket of Fireball shots, "we're even, or whatever."
"Good to know you got fed for your troubles." Michael scanned his badge one more time, but didn't hit the button to approve the alcohol to pass through.
"Oh, um," Jeremy scrambled for his wallet. "Do you have to card everyone no matter what?"
"Technically we only have to card the people that look younger than thirty. But you once claimed to be fourteen, so," Michael sent him a sideways grin that meant he was being a smartass.
Jeremy relaxed a little, because at least he knew that Michael was doing this purely to fuck with him. "You sure it's not because you're paranoid my ID's actually expired?"
Michael scoffed and took his ID. "No."
"No you're not paranoid or no you're not sure?" Jeremy couldn't help but smirk a little. It wasn't often that he felt he had good comebacks, but Michael somehow made it easy.
Michael's mouth twitched into a smile. He held Jeremy's ID up for comparison. "I just love how DMV photos always do everyone dirty. The real deal always looks sooo much better."
Jeremy flushed red. "Wh- uh-"
"Approval needed."
"Shut up."
The two laughed at their unison.
"Jinx?" Jeremy took his ID back.
Michael clicked his tongue and finally hit the approve button. "Guess this means I owe you a soda now. Or," he motioned to the alcohol that finally gained approval, "possibly some Fireball."
Jeremy almost gagged remembering the taste of burning cinnamon death. "No, it's not for me. I told Jake I'd never go on another booze run with him again and so he sent me on a booze run by myself."
Michael snorted. "Obvious solution. He send you out for brownie M&Ms and a twelve-pack of Code Red too?"
"Those are actually for me." Jake had sent Jeremy into the store with his own card to get the booze and 'something for himself,' also to make up for the condom thing.
("In my defense, it was really fucking funny."
"You're still a dick."
"You love me."
"Debatable."
"Rude.")
Jeremy put Jake’s card in the reader, to which the machine beeped at in denial. The screen read ‘Chip Malfunction.’ Uh oh…
"Our chip readers suck," Michael said easily. "Just keep trying until it tells you to swipe it."
Jeremy quickly relaxed as he tried inserting the card again. He got the same message. "You little whore," he muttered.
Michael snickered. "Glad I'm not the only one that calls technology a whore every now and then. This piece of shit in particular."
Jeremy finally got a ‘Please Swipe Card’ prompt and followed it. "Really? Is this one particularly difficult?"
Michael scoffed. "You know how many cards get shoved into this thing every day? Multiple times?"
Jeremy struggled to type Jake’s PIN through his sudden laughter. "Are you- slut-shaming the chip reader?"
"I'm not slut-shaming, I'm slut-awaring."
"Awaring," he parroted. "Wow."
“Michael,” Richard piped up.
The employee spun around to see the manager pointing at a self-check with a flashing red light. The customer there waved apologetically as Michael ran over to help.
Jeremy put the receipt in his grocery bag and gathered up his things. He felt a little bad for distracting Michael from work, but he enjoyed chatting with him so much that he forgot they weren’t like, friends, or whatever. Overall, it was actually a win though.
He gave the closest thing to a wave that he could with full hands. “Thanks, Michael.”
Michael finished typing in the code for avocados and smiled up at him. “No problem. Have a great day.”
“You too.”
Jeremy enjoyed the image of the employee dancing along to Britney Spears as he made it out to the parking lot. It was one of the things that made Michael feel like a real person instead of a cashier he’d see once and then never again.
Not that any other cashier wasn’t a real person of course! It was just so easy to hear the customer service voice they were forced to perfect and view them all as the same hollow shell trying to convince themself that keeping the agonizing job was worth the twelve dollars an hour. But Michael lip synced to the music like he wasn’t being watched and put on a show when he found out he was.
He finally knew the perfect First Message to send.
Jeremy: Michael "Target" M: slut-awaring to Toxic since 2023
The three dots came up almost immediately.
Michael: Don't text and drive <3
Jeremy: Don't text and work <3
Michael: Jokes on you I'm on break now B)
Jeremy: Jokes on you I'm not driving B)
Michael: Shit, guess we have no choice but to pass the time by chatting it up
Jeremy: I guess lol
Michael: Glad to know you finally redeemed ur prize lol
Jeremy: Technically I redeemed it as soon as I got it, I just haven't reaped its benefits until now
Michael: Ooooo there are benefits to talking to me? >:3c
Jeremy: Depends on if I get to attend more lip sync performances
Michael: Bet
[holdmetightordont.mp4]
Jeremy: OH COME ON I LOVE THAT SONF
Unfair. Target how dare you betray me by playing an awesome song right after I leave
Michael: Dude I have legit stayed in the store after clocking out JUST to listen to a song all the way through
Dream On comes on and you expect me to Not stay for the scream? Come on
Jeremy: Can't blame you
Michael: [blankspace.mp4]
#allthelonelystarbuckslovers
Jeremy: Ya know it's weird to think that song is 9yrs old
Michael: God right? 10th grade doesn't feel like that long ago but like? Really long ago at the same time?
Jeremy: Time is stupid
Michael: Time is Very Stupid
Time says I'm off my break in five mins, which I for one find bullshit
Jeremy: You only get 20mins??
Michael: I'm only here 6hrs, bc time is Very Stupid
Jeremy: Smh time
Welp don't text and work <3
Michael: Ur not my supervisor <3
But yeah Rich (manager u saw) wouldn't let me get away with that, sad face
Jeremy: Lol why'd you type sad face instead Typing A Sad Face
Michael: Hits different
Jeremy: Fair
[oopsididitagain.mp4]
Michael: Dude tell Jake his Britney impression is fucking incredible omg the babygirl voice
Ok I need to go fr this time don't miss me too much <3
Jeremy: Ur not my supervisor <3
▪︎▪︎▪︎
The stocking job at Kohl’s didn’t pay a lot, especially for the slim hours he got each week, but Jeremy had to admit that he was a fan of being in and out of the building before the doors even opened to customers. It also meant that he could run minor errands after work before any big rushes came in, and he was more than ok with getting all his adulting out of the way early so he could fiddlefart around the rest of the day.
Such was the case today. He’d grabbed the last Pop Tart for breakfast and he figured he’d swing by Target to grab more while he was thinking of it. And, ok, he’d admit it, part of him was hoping to see Michael again. It was silly, since he’d learned through texts that he was usually scheduled for evenings.
They actually texted a pretty ok amount since Jeremy had made first contact. By which he meant they could actually hold a conversation that consisted of more than a flat‘haha’ whenever he sent a meme to him. His standards were low. Sue him.
Jeremy grabbed his s’mores Pop Tarts off the shelf and another box to top off Jake’s supply: unfrosted strawberry, because he was fucking weird like that. After grabbing a couple more items he probably didn’t need, he made it to the self-checks and was disappointed in himself for being disappointed about Michael not being there. It was a long shot! He knew that!
He resigned himself to his fate of no human interaction and started scanning when Michael actually popped up from in front of a different self-check and closed the machine up. He took a ring of keys up to the customer service desk and dropped it behind the monitor. He looked groggy.
“Morning shift, huh?” Jeremy said.
Michael suddenly looked a little less sleepy upon seeing the company he had. “Misread my schedule,” he said. “Or it was changed halfway through the pay period and no one called to tell me, which has happened before.”
Jeremy cringed apologetically. “Shitty. How long are you here?”
“Eight to two.”
“Almost halfway there.”
“Woah-oh, livin’ on a prayer.”
Jeremy snorted and rolled his eyes.
“You handed it to me on a silver platter.”
“It’s not the song currently playing.”
“Fine,” Michael dug into the supply of grocery bags under the counter and began hooking a small stack onto an empty rack. He sang along to Katy Perry intentionally flatly to play a 'dead inside' caricature. "Do you ever feel, like a plastic bag, in a plastic bag, full of plastic bags?"
Jeremy snickered. "All the time."
“Michael.” Rich pointed to a customer holding up a bottle of wine on the self-check behind him.
Michael leaned over the counter to scan his badge instead of going around the long way. The alcohol was approved and he was quickly making his way over to a sort of guilty feeling Jeremy.
“I’m not like, getting you in trouble, am I?” he worried.
“Huh? Oh no! Not even a little!” Michael insisted. “If the place was slammed, that would be something else. No, you’re good.”
Jeremy relaxed a bit and pulled his card out of the reader, but this was undercut by the machine screaming at him.
“Please wait for assistance.”
"Uhhh what did I do?"
"Probably just a paper jam." Michael scanned his badge and the diagnostics screen came up. "Yup, 'Receipt Printer Error.' Lemme just grab the key and I'll fix that up."
Jeremy nodded as Michael made his way to the service desk. He came back with a ring of various-shaped keys and opened up the bottom half of the machine with the most normal-looking one.
Or at least tried to.
“Oh yeah, this is one with the sticky lock.” Michael jiggled the key. “Shit.”
Jeremy cringed. “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault! It’s just a,” the door clacked against the lock, but remained closed, “weird timing thing. Worst case I’ll have to get Rich to unlock it. He can get it open in like two seconds when it’s like this. It’s so unfair.”
“Sounds like it.”
A trio of chatty girls came to the checkout behind Jeremy, one of which he actually recognized as another manager at the store. He vaguely heard a joking remark from one of her companions about getting special discounts by association, which was cut off by the machine crackling in retaliation.
“Unknown item: set item aside and touch OK.”
“I’ll fix it!” Michael said over his shoulder.
One of the girls pointed accusingly at the blonde manager. “She broke it.”
“I didn’t break it,” Brooke said easily, looking at the third girl. "Chloe scanned a produce barcode even though I keep telling her it doesn’t recognize them.”
Chloe held up the cucumber guilty of the crime. “It’s for her mom.”
The first girl cackled at the dirty implications, which were not lost on anyone else present. “Yeah, she needed something asap and this was the cheapest option.”
“Jenna!” Brooke blanched.
Jeremy could barely pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping as he struggled to keep in his laughter.
Michael paused his losing battle of getting Jeremy’s machine opened up so that he could tend to the girls from where he was. “At least this’ll be a quick and easy fix. Just make sure you type in the codes for produce so you can hurry and help Brooke’s mom out.”
Brooke hid her flushing face in her hands. “Michael, nooo!” she whined. “That’s not what it’s fooor!”
Jenna held up a hand for Michael to high five after he scanned his badge and got the trio back to the appropriate screen, thanking him for the great service he was doing for Brooke’s mom despite being gay. Brooke smacked her with floppy yellow sweater paws as Chloe continued scanning items. Michael got back to metaphorically beating his head against Jeremy’s self-check machine, occasionally suppressing a snicker as the girls continued to banter behind him.
The machine eventually spat out a receipt and thanked them for shopping at Target with the girls thanking Michael for his help.
“Have a great day!” Michael said. “Hope your mom enjoys the cucumber!”
Brooke pouted and flipped him off as her friends laughed. Despite them now being gone, Michael and Jeremy were both clearly still thinking about the dirty implications that could be derived from buying anything even vaguely phallic, as shown by their shared laughter.
“Because I’m twelve,” Jeremy sighed.
“Pretty sure you’re fourteen.” The door to the self-check finally swung open. “There we go!”
Michael pulled out the slim drawer that held the receipt paper, opened up the top hatch, and tore out the crinkled paper jamming up the works. Once he closed everything up, he hit the button on the screen saying that the problem was fixed and the machine printed out Jeremy’s receipt.
“Thank you for shopping at Target.”
Jeremy tore off the paper and stuck it in a bag. “Alright, I gotta get these bananas back to Jake.”
Michael couldn’t get a farewell out as he hit a hand on the counter. “Fuck you, I’m gonna be laughing about that all day!”
“See ya, Michael!” Jeremy sing-songed as he made his way to the doors.
Michael could only wave him goodbye through his laughter. “I’m goin’ on my break, Rich!”
Jeremy was all smiles on his way home. Jake was still at work at the auto shop, so he had to walk back to their shared apartment. But with music playing in his earbuds and Michael’s laugh on his mind, he wasn’t bothered by the colder weather that was starting to creep in, nor the way that they’d yet to be able to truly hang out.
And, sure, Jeremy figured that the odds of Michael’s flirty remarks being little more than a way to get a reaction out of him were high. But he’d be just as happy if he got a real friend out of their text conversations and self checkout antics.
‘An-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-nother day goes by. So hold me tight. Hold me tight, or don’t. Oh n-n-no, no this isn’t how our story ends. So hold me tight. Hold me tight, or don’t.’