Musical: Be More Chill
Ship: Arsonbros/RichJake/Arson +1 (my own personal ship name for them)
Genre: as close to fluff as I get
TW: sexual content mentioned; Rich is a very lispy boi

Roses are Red
Violets aren't Blue
I'm Hella Gay
But only for You

Jake wasn't exactly sure what to do about the note he had just found in his locker. There was no name on it, and the small notecard only had a large heart drawn on the back. The handwriting was, strange. He swore he recognized it, but had no idea where it might be from. Jake let out a small hum, before slipping the notecard into an unused pocket of his backpack. He made a mental note to himself to look for that handwriting again, although he doubted he would find it today. With one final look at his locker, he slammed the metal door closed and set off to find his nerd friends.

The rest of the day flew by normally. Jake had forgotten about the note by the time lunch came around, and didn't remember it again until he was back at his locker at the end of the day. He had no homework tonight- which was quite odd for a Monday- so he was going to just leave his backpack at school. Right before he locked it away, however, he suddenly remembered the notecard tucked in that one weird pocket. He smiled slightly to himself, twisting around his backpack to grab out the note. He slipped it into the pocket of his Letterman instead, and slammed the metal locker closed. He kept his left hand wrapped around the note in his pocket, and set off to go drive Rich home.

Roses are Red
Violets aren't Blue
Rumor has it you're pan
Please tell me it's true

Jake was honestly a bit glad to see a new note that morning. He had been thinking about the one he got yesterday, reading it over and over, trying to figure out who had written it. It was very out of character for himself, he knew that, but it was still sweet. He had never really gotten anything like this before. It was always Jake wooing other people, or girls slutting themselves all over him to send him a hint. This honestly seemed, sweeter. He liked it. It was a more tame approach to love, and he honestly thought it was better that way.

He had driven Brooke to school that morning; Rich texted him the night before saying he was getting a ride from someone else today. It was strange, especially since he got another ride on Monday morning as well, but that meant that Jake could offer another friend a ride now. Brooke was more than willing to accept a ride to school; her precious Chloe was sick and she did not want to walk. The two were chatting it up until they reached Jake's locker, where the taller boy went quiet and smiled at a notecard inside it. Brooke tried her hardest to snoop and peek, jumping around behind Jake. The boy eventually rolled his eyes and moved the card so she could read it.

"I got one yesterday as well. I don't know who it's from though." Brooke stared at the notecard for a while. The hand writing looked so familiar. As if it belonged to one of their... Brooke let out a gasp then a squeak, looking up at Jake with a light in her eyes.

"I know who it is! Ohmygod, you really have no clue?"

"No! Can you tell me?" Jake's question was met with a look of disgust and betrayal.

"Absolutely not! You're finding out on your own. However, I will give you one hint. It's someone you're close to. Good luck!" And with her oh-so-helpful hint, Brooke ran off screeching and yelling for Christine.

"Who the fuck are you?"

The rest of the day was spent over-analyzing everyone's every move. It was excessive, and still yielded no results. No one was acting, weird. Or, at least, weirder than normal. Everyone Jake hung out with now was crazy in their own unique way. But, none of these crazies seemed different from normal. No one was more jumpy around Jake. No one asked any weird questions- Jake was secretly hoping someone would ask if he was pan so he could immediately link them to the notes. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his day, and so he had nothing to report to Brooke while driving her home that afternoon.

"Maybe read deeper into the notes tonight. See if you can start narrowing down the possibilities, you know?" Jake agreed to this plan, and sat on his bed that night reading both notes over and over again. He grabbed himself out a sheet of notebook paper, ignoring his homework assignments for a much better cause. He began to write down everything he knew already about the person, and assumptions that could be made but weren't proven. He knew they were a friend of his, and someone Brooke knew. He knew it was a guy- the first note had said they were gay for him, so it had to be a guy. As for assumptions: they liked the color red (both notes were written with red pen), they had been to his locker with him (how else would they know the locker was his?), and they must have driven their writing teachers crazy (their letters were all the same size, and a random mix between capitals and lowercase). With this all in mind, Jake fell into a restless sleep, desperately wanting to know who the mystery person was.

Roses are Red
Violets aren't Blue
In case you were wondering
I'd suck your dick for you

Rich had gotten another ride this morning. Jake was sort of happy, because that meant that he could show his work from last night to Brooke. The blonde girl read the short list in front of her, along with the justification beside each one. She giggled at the last one, and searched her bag for a highlighter. She grabbed one out, a vibrant and neon pink, and highlighted the last detail like crazy.

"The handwriting is your key Jake. The handwriting is the key." That was all she would say, and didn't even extend a thank you when they arrived at the school before running off. Jake rolled his eyes and looked at his vandalized notes. The handwriting? So it was familiar to him? Jake shook his head, and trudged his way into the school.

Jake was glad Brooke wasn't there when he read today's note. It left a slight blush on his face, and he cleared his throat after reading it because he suddenly felt as if he couldn't talk. So much for the sweet and innocent thing, huh? Jake was quick to put it in his Letterman pocket, hiding it between the other two notecards that rested there. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself down, before slamming shut his locker and reminding himself of his goal.

"Handwriting. Watch everyone's handwriting. Letters all the same size. Random capitalization."

Jake continued chanting this to himself in his head, ignoring all his lessons in favor of his mission. In Sixth period, however, this turned out to be an issue for Jake. He was looking at all the adjacent desks, watching everyone around him write, until everybody started getting up. He looked around curiously, and watched as a slightly annoyed Rich walked over to him.

"Partner work. What'th got you acting tho off today?" Rich asked as he sat down, grabbing out a piece of paper and writing their names at the top.

"It's a long story, man. So basically, I-" the rest of Jake's story caught in his throat. His brain chanted to him the same guidelines, but he didn't need them anymore. It was right there. The handwriting was right there.

The letters were from Rich.

Jake felt all the blood disappear from his face, and he couldn't even register Rich asking him over and over if he was okay. He just shot his hand up, begging the teacher to let him go to the bathroom. She agreed, and Jake was gone by the time she finished her sentence. Holy shit. Holy shit. His best friend. Holy shit. Jake barely registered where he was going until he found himself in the bathroom, and he leaned forward onto the sink. He took deep breaths. It was fine. He was fine. He quickly grabbed his phone, and barely managed out a shaky text to Brooke. She replied back excited, saying that it was a great thing. When Jake didn't reply immediately, she asked him if he was upset about it.

"I just, I don't know. I don't think I am. But I am freaking out right now."

Jake never got a reply text back. When Brooke's teacher caught her texting, she brought it upon herself to read the conversation out loud. Brooke just stood up front next to the teacher bouncing, waiting for her to ask what they were talking about.

"What exactly is-"

"So my one friend has been receiving really cute love letters in his locker all week and he just realized who they're from and it's so cute!" Her words were rushed together, the word cute being more of a squeal than anything else. "And before anyone asks, I will not say who either person is. It's their story to tell, not mine." The teacher simply rolled her eyes, and kept the phone until the end of the day.

As for Jake, he wasn't seen again the rest of the day. Rich was really worried about what had happened, but his best friend just didn't answer any of his texts. He didn't answer that night either, and no one else had heard from him. Well, except Brooke. She said he had driven her home, and that he wasn't feeling very well. Brooke explained that she thinks she might have accidently passed what Chloe had to Jake, since she had been spending so much time with both of them. Rich accepted this answer as the truth. If there was one thing he had learned about Jake Dillinger in their years of friendship, it was that him and sick did not settle well together. It would explain his running off in class, his ignoring everyone's messages. Still, Rich sent the same good night text he had been sending Jake for years now, it just felt wrong not to.

Roses are Red
Violets aren't Blue
I dream every night
Of being fucked by you

Jake came to school alone the next day. Brooke had told him what her story had been, and he was so thankful for her cleaning up his mess. He really wasn't ready to face anyone right now, especially not Rich. But, he couldn't miss any more school. If he let his grades drop too much, he'd screw up his ability to play on the team. And that was not going to happen. All of his friends were surprised to see him there the next day, offering him little gifts or treats that they swore would help him feel better. He honestly did start feeling better, until he saw today's note in his locker.

He flushed bright red, folding the note in half immediately so he couldn't look at the written words anymore. Brooke, who happened to be walking past with Rich, spotted him in a bad state and rushed right over.

"Jake? Are you okay?" Brooke gushed, resting her hands on his boiling hot cheeks.

"I'm fine," he claimed, although his voice broke like crazy and honestly sounded like he was horribly sick. Rich was now over with the two, looking worriedly at his best friend. He didn't even notice his own notecard to Jake in the taller's hand, or make the connection that maybe that could be the cause.

"Jake, you're really hot."

"Thanks Brooke, but not interested," he joked, slipping the notecard into his Letterman and grabbing her hands off his face. Rich was bouncing anxiously behind Brooke; Jake's voice had sounded so destroyed, but yet kinda hot at the same time. Rich mentally slapped himself for the thought.

"No, I mean feverish hot. Are you sure you can't-"

"I don't need a nurse. I don't need to go home. I'm fine." Brooke glared at the taller boy, but took a tentative step back. Rich immediately rushed forward and hugged Jake tight.

"Pleathe take care of yourthelf, Jakey. I can't thtand the thought of you feeling like thith," Rich murmured, unknowingly only making Jake feel worse. Still, Jake hugged the shorter boy back and shot a desperate look at Brooke.

"Alright Rich, I know you're worried but we gotta go. The bell is about to- shit!" She was cut off by the loud ring of the bell, meaning her and Rich were screwed if they wanted to be on time to class. Rich quickly let go of Jake and the two set off running, leaving Jake to stand alone, feeling like a mess. Fuck. He was so fucked.

By the time lunch came around, Jake finally knew what he should do. It would take a small amount of information from his friends, but he had a plan nonetheless. At the table, he sat beside Michael, rather than his normal place beside Rich. Jake noticed immediately Rich's frown, but this was important. Michael shot Jake a curious look, but said nothing to the boy who just curled up in his own arms. Conversation eventually picked up, and Jake decided it was loud enough he could talk to Michael without Rich noticing.

"Hey Mike?" Michael quickly put down his slushie, turning to face the sick boy. Jake honestly looked completely out of it, and Michael was actually worried about the poor kid.

"What's up dude?"

"Have you been the one driving Rich to school?" That was not a question Michael was expecting. He scrunched his eyebrows together, staring at Jake for a moment. He must have really been out of it.

"Yeah, why?"

"What time do you get here? I need to beat Rich here tomorrow morning." Now Michael was even more lost. What the fuck was going on?

"7:30, usually. Are you okay?" Michael asked, earning Jeremy's attention as well.

"Jake, no offense, but you look like complete and utter shit."

"I just couldn't sleep last night. I'm fine. Really," Jake explained, resting his head once more in his arms. Michael looked to everyone else at the table, all holding the same concern in their eyes. But Brooke, her eyes screamed something more than concern. Michael just couldn't figure out what.

It was Friday now, the last day before the weekend. Rich sat anxiously in the back seat of Michael's PT Cruiser, a notecard carefully placed upside down in his lap. Jeremy looked back at the poor boy, nudging Michael's arm to let him know.

"You okay there, Rich?" Michael asked, only able to spare a quick glance in the rearview mirror.

"No. Jake never getth thick. Never. He'th gotta be really thick to be acting like thith. He shouldn't be coming to thchool, ethpecially not driving. He should be rethting and getting better. He-"

"Rich, breathe for a moment," Jeremy cut him off. Rich took a few breaths, trying to calm his anxiety. "You freaking out over him isn't helping him at all. You just gotta breathe, and make sure you're there for him when he wants you to be."

"But he wouldn't even thit next to me yethterday. What if he'th mad at me?"

"Rich," Michael chimed in, "he's not mad at you. Think about it this way. You said he never gets sick, right?" Rich hums in response. "Did you think that, maybe, he didn't want to sit next to you 'cause he's embarrassed about how he acts when he's sick? I mean, you saw the shape he was in yesterday. He probably didn't like the idea of you seeing him so vulnerable."

"Why not?"

"You're his best friend. You pretty much idolize the guy as the great big strong Jake Dillinger. He wouldn't wanna look weak in front of you. He's meant to be the rock," Jeremy explained, reaching a hand back and using it to stop Rich's bouncing leg. "That's why you gotta be there for him today. Prove to him that he doesn't have to be the rock all the time." Rich nodded his head determinedly. He would be there to support Jake. He would be Jake's protector. He could do it.

Rich marched in the school, a short, fierce man on a mission. He marched right up to Jake's locker, and froze. He couldn't put in his note. There was one taped over the slits.

Roses are Red
Violets aren't Blue
I know who you are
Just let me fuck you
Love you Rich xx

Michael and Jeremy came running as soon as they heard Rich screech.

The two boys never asked Rich what he saw that made him scream like that. They also didn't bother asking him why he was so shaky and so jumpy for the rest of the morning. They were trying so hard to be good and quiet, but when Rich only got worse during lunch, Michael had to speak up.

"Did someone break Rich? He, he's completely silent," Michael asked worriedly, earning curious looks from all their friends. Well, all except one. Jake sat proudly next to Rich, a brilliant smirk on his face. The smirk only disappeared as he began to snicker.

"Jake? Did you break Rich again?" Chloe whined, having finally come back from being sick. Brooke was curled tightly in her side, eating the Pinkberry Chloe had bought her for lunch.

"Well, I mean, I can tell the story if he's okay with it," Jake offered, looking at Rich beside him. Rich went to speak, but simply stuttered out for a few moments before giving up. Everyone at the table froze with shock. Michael and Jeremy shared a look before staring at Rich. What the hell had happened?

"Alright, so a certain someone," Jake paused to look at Rich for a few moments, just long enough for everyone to get the hint, "has been leaving these, sweet little love poems in my locker this week about stuff like, you know, sucking my dick." Everyone's eyes widened at this, looking between each other and then back at Rich.

"Holy shit," Chloe mumbled.

"And, said someone didn't realize that we've been friends long enough that," Jake turns to Rich once more, and moves closer with every word that followed, "I'd recognize his fuckin handwriting." Jake was merely two inches away from Rich's ear now, chin pressed against the table to be level with the boy finding his face in his arms. "Isn't that right, Rich?"

"Thomeone thave me," Rich meekly squeaked, and everyone remained silent for a few moments. That is, until Michael spoke up.

"Rich, that was your big plan?! You made it sound like it was a good plan in the car!"

"It wath a great plan! I jutht didn't think about the handwriting thing," Rich yelled out, removing his head from his arms. He quickly remembered how close Jake was, and scooted away slightly. "C-can you thcoot back a bit."

"Why? Am I causing a problem?" Christine choked on her drink at this comment, a few others around the table giving Jake incredulous looks.

"No!" But no one was convinced, because the word was squeaky and sounded so meek.

"Oh my God, Rich Goranski just squeaked. What has happened to this world. Hold me Micha, I'm scared," Jeremy teased, being overly dramatic to try to alleviate some of the tension around the table. Holy shit, this got heavy quickly.

"Shut up, Tall-Ath!" Rich yelled back, face bright red. He looked so small and helpless at the moment, and Jeremy instantly felt a bit bad for teasing him. Before he could speak up, Brooke beat him to it.

"Aw, be nice guys," Brooke cooed, moving forward so she could be seen from around Chloe.

"Thank you!"

"We all know Rich has probably been dreaming about this for years," Brooke continued with a small smirk, earning a few giggles from around the table and a scream of anguish from Rich.

"Okay, but important question," Christine chimed up once people began to calm down again. Jake hummed in response. He was now sitting up again, the smirk back on his face as his arm was draped around Rich's waist. "Are you two gonna, you know?" Her question received some odd looks.

"She's asking if Rich is gonna get some dick," Jenna specified, getting a few Oh's from around the table. Rich slammed his face into the cool table surface, wrapping his arms over his head and wishing his head could go through the table and disappear.

"Hm, I dunno," Jake responsed, removing his arm from around Rich. "What do you think about that idea, Rich?" Right as he said the boy's name, Jake wrapped his hand around Rich's upper thigh and squeezed. Rich squeaked once more, and nearly cried out of happiness as the loud bell told the room that lunch was over. Rich immediately tried to run off, but he found himself stopped by Jake's hand pushing his thigh back down onto the seat. Rich sat obediently, shooting a hopeful look to Michael and Jeremy to save him. Jeremy sent him an encouraging smile, and Michael simply winked while giving a thumbs up. Rich pouted as they left, and he was now alone with Jake for the first time today. The taller boy removed his hand from Rich's thigh, giving the boy a soft smile.

"Do you wanna come over to my place tonight?"

And Rich could only nod dramatically before running off, face as red as his hair streaks.