Marco had moved into a one bedroom condo in the suburbs of his home town. He could still sometimes hear the busy streets of the near by city, nearly a mile away. Originally he had lived in a complex right in the middle of all the chaos. Skyscrapers surrounded him, police sirens screeched, drunk idiots roamed the streets almost every night. He hated it. His only escape was moving, and he rightfully did so. He couldn't leave entirely, no matter how much he wanted to due to working at an Italian restaurant, and making a pretty good living off of that.
He had been in this new home for nearly a week before someone bought the room above him. Great. Now he would have to deal with whom ever this was walking up and down the stairs. All he wanted to do was crash on his couch once he returned from work and lay there in silence. The only noise he rarely enjoyed was the radio, or some television. Other than that, the silence pleased him.
He tried, as much as possible, to stay away while his new upstairs neighbor moved in. If they didn't speak, they wouldn't have to be friends. If they weren't friends this new person wouldn't feel the need to stop by and say hello every now and again.
Marco had his friends, they were either in the city, or had moved away. They did spend time together once and a while, but they all weren't clingy. He liked that. There weren't many people he enjoyed.
Though he wasn't very social outside of his job, he was the nicest boy anyone could meet. He hated being rude or mean to people. He always, in some way, was polite and respectful to whom ever was around.
One night, after a long day of work, he came home to his neighbor blaring his music upstairs, their radio no doubt. Of course. The one evening he wanted sleep more than anything, he wouldn't get any. Being his kind self, he was too nervous to go and ask for them to turn it down. He would have to suffer through.
He sat on his couch with a groan, listening to the obnoxious music. The same song, which he had never even heard before, played over and over for nearly two hours before it was shut off. Marco was on the edge of murdering the one upstairs at this point.
It's not that the song was bad, it was quite wonderful, but he wanted to sleep.
Immediately he ran into his bedroom, flopping onto his bed as he heard the music come to a stop. He fell asleep almost immediately, but only slept for a few hours before being awoken again by the same song.
"Seriously! It's," he takes a glance at his clock with a sharp movement of his head, "three in the morning! What the hell!"
He had a killer migraine at this point, and had to get up to take some ibuprofen.
If only he had the guts to go up there and tell him to turn it off. He would, in a heartbeat. The music continued playing throughout the night, eventually he had fallen asleep listening to it.
Once daylight had rolled around his head was still pounding. He couldn't bring himself to go to work, he felt horrible. Marco called his boss, informing him of what had happened, and that he wouldn't make it in today. Luckily, his boss didn't mind much, Marco was his top employee after all.
He ended up sleeping until around one in the afternoon before finally waking up. His headache had faded, thankfully, and he hadn't heard any music so far. That was even better.
He found himself, throughout the day, humming the song his neighbor had been listening to. He'd have to find out who the artist was, he began growing fond of it. The piano was his favorite part. However, he couldn't make out the lyrics, they had been muffled by the walls between them.
He spent, what he had for the rest of his day off, reading the daily paper, there was nothing but silence and he loved it. He couldn't have asked for a better day off. Though it were simple and lazy, he enjoyed it very much.
Around six in the evening he drifted into a soft sleep unwillingly. He hadn't slept for long, so he thought, only to be awoken by the sound of piano, again playing the same song. Marco, having just woken up and was extremely grumpy, felt courageous enough to go tell him to turn it off.
He didn't care that he was still in his v-neck tee and sweats. He just wanted who ever this was to turn off his obnoxious music. He slides on his sneakers and storms up the stairs, making sure his steps were very audible.
He knocks on the door, as soon as he does so the music stops. 'Ugh. Finally.' Marco mumbles to himself, hearing rather silent steps approach the door. He hears him unlock the door before it opens slowly.
"Yeah?" A tall male with sandy blonde hair stood before him. His muscles were perfectly sculpted, having an over all perfect body. He wore a green short sleeved shirt with brown, mildly skinny pants on.
Marco froze, looking over the male before him. His mind scrambled, frantically trying to remember why he had come up here.
"Y-You're-" He stutters, looking at his feet.
"My music's bothering you too, huh? If you're gonna' ask me to get a new place.. Don't waste your breath. I'm not going.." The tall males voice is rather deep, and nearly cracks as he speaks.
Marco hadn't any words left, he had completely forgotten why he had come up to speak with him. He was perfect.
"I-I'm actually out of um.. I'm out of flour, and was wondering if you had any I could use.." The freckled boy scratches the back of his head as he spoke, finally raising his head to look at the male before him in the eyes.
He had a confused expression, wondering why he'd just asked for flour, "You're wanting flour? Hah! Well come on in." This had been the first time anyone had come to his place, and not complain about his music, "I'm Jean, and you?" He holds open the door for the freckled boy, watching him as he enters his room.
It wasn't decorated much, due to the fact he had just moved in. There were still some boxes laying around, along with some papers on the floor, but in the center of his living room, was a Grand Piano.
Had that been him playing, and singing? There was no way. It had sounded like an actual singer.
"Marco," he states, walking into the condo, "you play piano?" His question was sudden, not realizing he had said it until he'd already spoken. "I mean, you don't have to answer that, it could be personal, I get that. I mean childhoods and all that, haha.. Yeah.." He stumbles around with his words, feeling nervous in the pit of his stomach.
Jean cocks his head to the side a bit, closing the door as he walks up beside him, staring at the piano. "Well, yeah. I actually figured you had come up here to tell me to stop. That's what most people do.. And stop acting so nervous. I'm not a bad guy. Calm down." He states before entering his kitchen and grabbing him a small bowl of flour. He returns after a moment, holding out the flour to the boy.
Marco stares at the piano, not acknowledging Jeans return with the unneeded ingredient. "Hey, Marco?" He taps him on the shoulder, causing him to jump and knock over the flour. The bowl crashed onto the floor, spilling the white powder all over the cedar wood.
"Shit! Dude!" Jean backs up, watching as Marco covers his mouth in shock, "Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I'll clean this up! I'm sorry!" He removes his hands from his mouth and bends down, trying frantically to clean up the mess.
Jean looks down at him and laughs a bit, holding out his hand to the boy, "Calm down, I'll get it later. You don't need to do that." Marco's eyes shoot up, grabbing ahold of his hand and standing with his assistance. His heart fluttered at the touch, though it meant nothing, he couldn't help it.
"I'm really sorry.." He mumbles, pulling away his hand.
"It's alright, no problem at all. I'll go get you some-"
"No!" Marco interrupts, "I mean.. I don't need it that much. I'll be fine without it.. I'll actually just head out, I don't know why I came up here, I'm sorry about bothering you.." He turns suddenly, and walks toward the door, only to be grabbed by Jean, pulling him to a halt. "Wait, you should- Um. Stay for a few? I could show you..." He scans the room, "My piano! I could play you something!" Jean, swallowing heavily, pulls away his hand from Marco's shoulder, "Only if you want to.."
He doesn't reply for a moment, but turns around slowly with a small smile, "Y-yeah.."
Jean grins, pulling him over to the piano by his wrist, "Okay. So, I wrote this song a while back, and haven't really been working on it, besides the past few months, so gimme your thoughts." The tall male takes a seat on the bench, setting Marco down beside him. Without waiting another moment he begins playing. The ivory keys moved smoothly down at his touch, it sounded perfect, as if it were a recording. The freckled boy watches in amazement, listening as he plays.
After a moment Jean began singing. His voice was beautiful. Marco realizes all of this time it had been him singing, not a radio.
A few minuets pass before he finishes his song, sliding his fingers off of the final key as he pulls back to look at Marco.
"Whatcha' think?"
What did he think? He thought he was perfect. He'd barely even gotten to know the guy, and had fallen in love. He didn't believe in love at first sight, but this time he felt differently. He knew, for the first time, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this man. Marco was truly, madly, deeply in love with Jean.
"Marco...?" Jean repeated looking over at the expressionless boy sitting beside him. He hadn't said anything since he stopped playing, giving him the impression he wasn't as good as he had thought.
"I guess it wasn't very impressive then...?" Jean mumbles, raising his hand to the back of his head and scratching his neck awkwardly. Marco's eyes shot directly toward Jean, he felt awful for not speaking, but he seemed to have spaced out. He was still in shock, that had been the most amazing song he'd heard in a while.
"No! No, it was fantastic, just absolutely brilliant!" He confesses, a blush spreading across his freckled cheeks.
Jean giggles childishly, blushing as well, "Did you really think so? Hah! You're the first one who hasn't complained!" He claps his hands together with a cheeky grin, closing his eyes momentarily.
Marco had found himself lost in his eyes, realizing he was staring once they closed. He looks down at his lap, beginning to twiddle with his thumbs. "I should probably head back now, it's getting pretty late after all." He finally states after some silence. However he didn't want to leave, he knew if he stayed he would humiliate himself by pouring his heart out to a complete stranger.
"Yeah, you're right.. Thanks for staying and listening though! I appreciate it, and just for you I promise I'll play when you leave in the morning, so I won't be a bother." Jeans eyes widened after he finished his statement, "I mean! Not that I know- I mean, well..." He then covers his face with his hands, the blush on his cheeks making it's way onto his ears.
Marco gasps, standing frantically, nearly falling backwards and tripping over the bench at which he sat. "Oh my God.." He whispers to himself. Had Jean seen him leave in the morning by chance? Or was he watching? Whatever it was, it still horribly embarrassed both of the men.
"Y-you know when I..." Was all Marco managed to say before stoping himself. "I'll, um, see you later.."
Jean stands quickly, walking toward the door, "Thanks again for coming..!" His voice squeaks mid sentence as Marco leaves, flashing him a shy smile. As he shuts the door he leans his back against it with a groan. He felt like an idiot, embarrassing himself like that in front of a man he barely knew. He did however have an odd feeling about him, like something about Marco was different than the others. He was special.
While Marco enters his room below Jean he runs to his room and jumps on his bed, covering his face with a pillow. He groans, it would have been loud had it not muffled by the pillow.
He, after a few hours, fell asleep thinking about Jean. How his body was so perfectly sculpted. How his eyes were so sexy, mysterious almost. He wanted to see him tomorrow, though he knew that wouldn't happen. Not only was he too afraid to speak with him, but he also didn't want to embarrass himself like he just had.
The morning came around rather quickly, the next thing Marco knew his alarm was buzzing. He hated that sound more than any other. He slowly crawled out of his bed and made his way into the wash room, where he stripped his clothes and stepped into his shower. He turned the water on slowly, pinning himself onto the wall until it heated up.
The small room filled with steam as he bathed himself. He once again found himself humming Jean's song. Now that he knew some of the lyrics it was easier for him to sing.
As he stood under the water he allowed some of it to trickle down his face. His eyes flutter shut as he sang, unwillingly smiling. A small blush crossed his cheeks as he turned off the water. He grabbed the towel from the rack, and wrapped it loosely around his waist.
He really didn't want to work today. Especially knowing he could, with enough courage, go upstairs to his gorgeous neighbor and spend the day with him.
He stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself. His body was spotted with freckles in few places.. He wondered if Jean had any markings- No! He shouldn't be thinking like that. That's horribly inappropriate.
After a moment of him looking at himself he is startled by a knocking at his door.
"Really, I have to get ready for work." He grumbles as he walks toward the door. The mailman no doubt. He always had to knock instead of just leaving the mail at the door.
"What is it now-" He opens the door, rather aggressively to see Jean standing before him. "Oh. My God!" He yelps, shutting the door immediately, covering his mouth.
"Shit shit shit!" He whispers, his cheeks as red as a rose. He was half naked and Jean had seen him. He probably thought he looked horrible! However he couldn't just leave him standing out there, so he regretfully reopened the door with an awkward smile.
"Hey, Jean. Heh, didn't see ya there.." He nervously chuckles, attempting to lean casually against the door frame. He stumbles a bit hitting his dead on the doorframe before gaining his composure again, causing the tall male to laugh a bit.
"Ah, hello Marco." Jean giggles as he looks over the freckled male. Damn he looked good. "You doing anything today?" He grins, directing his eyes back into the boy's.
Marco stood in shock for a moment, Jean couldn't have made the full body scan any more obvious, and he just asked him out. He felt his heart jump, followed by a quiet sigh. "I'd love... I mean I would enjoy that, really, but I've got work to go-"
"On Saturday..?"
Was it Saturday? Of course. He had forgotten. Again, he was horribly embarrassed, "Oh... You're right. I guess I don't." He mumbles, looking down at Jeans shoes, then back toward his perfect eyes.
"Great." Jean states, "You've already showered I see.." He grins, giving him a wink. Though he was awful a winking, it probably ended up just being a blink. He'd messed up so many times with it, that it didn't even bother him anymore.
Marco chuckles sheepishly as Jean continues speaking, "How about we go see a movie? There's this.. kind of old film playing down at the cinema. It's the 50 year anniversary. It's called 'Love Actually.' Have you heard of it?"
Love Actually. Of course he'd heard of it. He'd seen it nearly a hundred times, it was one of Marco's favorites. "No. I mean, yes I've heard of it, but I've never seen it.." He lies, "What time should I, you know, be expecting you..?"
Jean shrugs, "How about eight this evening.. I've got some plans with a friend later. He should be gone around that time, and the movie is at 8:45. So I think that'll work."
Marco nods, chewing on his bottom lip, "I'll see you at right then.." He whispers, making sure it was audible for him. The sandy haired boy nods, giving him a gentle smile. "Can't wait."
Marco blushes again as he steps backwards, shutting the door quietly as he listens to Jean go back up the stairs to his place. He couldn't believe he'd just been asked to the movies by Jean. It made his heart flutter.
He had a long fourteen hours to wait. They couldn't go by fast enough.
"Phew.. Okay, okay. Calm down Marco, you've got plenty of time to prepare for this," the freckled boy states to himself while nervously pacing around the room. Yes, he has fourteen hours until the date- movie, not a date, but he still felt horribly nervous for the oddest of reasons.
He worried about his clothes, his hair, everything a female would worry about before going out with an attractive guy. He felt so foolish. "Maybe.. I'll just rest, and set an alarm for noon. That'll give me eight hours... I won't have to shower, so that'll leave dressing and grabbing a bite to eat before the show.. Shit! What do I wear!"
Without hesitation he storms into his room, throwing open the doors to his closet. He hadn't a very big one, but what he did have was full of clothes. They varied from tuxedos to casual shorts and a tank top. This was just two friends hanging out, so a pair of pants and a button up shirt would do.
He reluctantly steps away from the closet, flopping face first onto his bed with a deep groan. Before drifting to sleep, he realizes he'd still been only wearing a towel. He throws it aside as he stands, grabbing a pair of loose pajama pants to slide on so he could go back to sleep. Once he lays back onto his bed he goes out within minuets.
His mind stays black as he sleeps, dreaming of absolutely nothing. His eyes flutter open slowly, staring up toward the ceiling for a moment before realizing he had forgotten to set the alarm for noon. He shot straight up, directing his eyes at the clock which read 6:37 p.m.
"No!" Marco yelps standing from the comfort of his bed, and running into his bathroom.
He felt so flustered though he had plenty of time. How had he slept so long anyway? Maybe it was all of the stress from work leaving him exhausted, he honestly hadn't a clue.
His hands grasps both sides of the sink as he stares at himself angrily in the mirror. His hair was a mess, and his cheeks were burning with a gentle red hue. He takes a few breaths, collecting his thoughts, before calmly walking back into his room toward the closet. He grabs his first choice of pants, followed by a blue button up shirt he'd received from his mother before he moved away.
As he finishes dressing he slides on his sneakers, and heads toward his kitchen. He makes himself a sandwich, along with a cup of coffee. He didn't have any this morning so he had a sudden hankering for it. All of this had only taken an hour, making sure he was slow with everything he'd done to pass the time. He now only had to wait thirteen quick minuets.
His foot bounced anxiously while he sat on his couch, staring at the clock on the wall. He tried reading, watching tv, anything to make the clock go faster; they all failed. He realized, having only a minuet remaining, he'd forgotten to brush his teeth. He gasps, jogging into his bathroom, and quickly brushing them, leaving his mouth tasting minty fresh.
He'd waited about ten minuets past eight for Jean. He hadn't shown up yet, making Marco's heart sink as every second passed that he hadn't arrived. "Maybe I should go check on him... Or maybe his friend hasn't left yet.. I'll just.. go knock, yeah."
Marco, standing nervously, claps his hands together and approaches his door. He opens it quietly, followed by a very sudden shut behind him. He hears muffled laughter as he walks up the stairs to Jeans flat, followed by silence, then a bit more hushed giggling.
His hand raises to knock on the door, but pulls away hesitantly. 'Maybe I'll just wait..' he thought to himself, 'No, we will be late if we wait much longer..'
Taking a deep breath he finally knocks on the wooden door, all the sounds on the inside go silent. There is a very faint sound of ruffling around, with a few thuds, and whispering. Several awkward minuets pass before the door is unlocked and opened just enough so Jean could slip out and stand in front of it.
"Hey, Marco.. Uh, What's- Whats up?" He states, acting quite strangely. His shirt was crooked, and his hair was a mess. His eyes even looked strange, as if they were full of mischief and worry.
"The movie..." Marco mumbles, adverting his eyes from the male before him. Jean had forgotten, clearly caught up in a different matter.
"Oh my god! It's Eight!? I'm so sorry! I'll be out in like, two minuets I promise!" He turns around, shutting the door abruptly in Marco's face.
"H-Hey...!" He steps forward, grabbing the doorknob, ready to go off on the guy for forgetting their evening together. "If you don't wanna go, just-" As he opens the door his eyes fall onto Jean kissing another male passionately with his hands up the guys shirt. He pulls away suddenly with wide eyes, looking directly at Marco.
"Um.. This is Eren.. My friend I was talking about from the city.." He states, followed by Eren nodding nervously, and waving a hand at the freckled boy.
"I was just leaving.." He states as he gives Jean a smile before jolting past Marco, who stood in the door way. There is nothing but silence after the sound of steps finally go away when Eren leaves.
"I'm gonna go.." Marco whispers as his eyes fall onto the floor, turning around suddenly. He felt tears swelling in his eyes, followed by a choked up feeling in his throat.
"Marco, he's just a friend-"
"A fucking friend! Are you kidding me! Seriously! Do I look like an idiot, Jean! No! If anything, yeah I do feel like one for thinking.. You know what.. Never mind. Have fun with Eren." Marco shakes his head as he leaves, shutting the door quickly behind him. He hears Jean approach the door before it closed, coming to a halt as it is shut.
He places a hand over his mouth, trying desperately to hold back the tears. He'd only known Jean for 3 days now and he'd already fallen in love, been stood up, and been heartbroken. He never knew it was as easy to be broken, as it had been falling hopelessly in love with someone.
The sound of Marco's door slamming echoed down the empty hall. After so came dead silence, not even a hushed whisper could be heard. A silence so loud that you could hear a needle drop. Hours go by, the silence is shortly broken every so often by a soft tap on the Marco's door, followed by a desperate plead for forgiveness from Jean.
He rests his head against the dark cedar wood, running his fist down the door with a quiet sigh. Marco sat in his room, staring out the cracked window into the darkness of the cool night, with a gentle breeze cascading against his dampened cheeks.
The salty tears ran across his lips, very rarely being wiped away by the back of a freckled hand. The sound of Jeans door shutting above him brought relief over the male, knowing he could make a bit of noise now. A cough of sobbing finally escaped him, followed by an ache in his pounding heart. He never knew this could hurt so badly. He hadn't even known Jean for long, but he had certainly fallen in love.
As for Jean? What could he be doing now? Nothing better than sitting on his couch, staring at his soundless piano, a feeling of sickness coming over him. It was guilt, no doubt. There was no hope with talking to Marco at this point, he wouldn't answer his door, and he didn't have his number. He'd just have to keep trying, and he didn't plan on giving up.
Ever since the night he'd played piano for the boy, there had been a new presence around Jean. He felt happier, strangely enough. He knew kissing Eren was a mistake, he'd just been caught up in the moment. He honestly was relieved he'd been caught by Marco, if they weren't they would've gone farther. That could have ruined everything even more than currently.
Three in the morning, still nothing. Marco and Jean remained awake, both staring into the darkness of their rooms. It was an uncomfortable silence, a disturbing darkness.
Marco's crying had stopped, but the aching in his heart hurt more than ever. Sleep was all he wanted, but his body wouldn't allow it. With each attempt he'd start twisting and turning, unable to get comfortable.
It was nearly six in the morning before they had both fallen asleep, Marco woke up around ten, Jean however slept until noon. The sound of running water though the pipes could be heard in the sandy haired boys room, causing him to immediately sit up. Marco was in the shower, vulnerable and unable to escape confrontation. Jean very quietly went down the steps, sliding his credit card in between the wall and the door. Within seconds it had opened, very slowly, but enough to make it creak like it always had.
He closes the door behind him, sighing nervously. He had no idea where the bathroom was, but the sound of the water was enough for him to figure it out. Slowly, he approaches the shower room, unsure of what he would say once he got in there. After all Marco would be naked.
With each step Jean would take, he'd have to make strategize his next movement, fearing the creaking of the old wood below his feet. Once reaching the bathroom door, he held the door handle for a moment; suddenly changing his mind. He thought there was no hope, and that he should just turn around and leave.
As he went to turn back, the water shut off, causing Jean's heart to nearly jump out of his chest. 'Shit, shit, shit!' Was all he could think, now going to have the cops called on him for creeping about Marco's apartment.
The shower door flew open, followed by an outstretched freckled hand, reaching for the cotton towel. "Nng..." Marco groaned as he stepped from the shower, neatly wrapping the cloth around his torso. He wanted his cell phone, so took no time to hesitate leaving the bathroom. The door flew open, turning directly toward Jean, who stood wide eyed staring at the male before him. A spilt second of silence was broken by a scream from Marco.
"Jean! What the hell! Get out!" He spat, attempting to cover his chest with his hands.
"Marco... Please, I'm-"
"What? You're sorry! God you're so predictable! You met me, you charmed me, you probably planned to fuck me, and then what? Huh? Was I just going to be a toy, so then you could return to who ever the fuck that was? Who am I kidding, I didn't even have a chance, right? You're the same as the assholes that are out there in the big city. I thought you were different.. but I guess you really can't judge a book by it's cover.. You know-"
"Shut up." Jean states, cutting off Marco from speaking anymore.
"Excuse-"
"I said shut up. Did I stutter? Maybe if you gave me a damn chance to speak I could explain myself!" The freckled boy then starred at him in silence, not speaking anymore. "Good. Now, Marco please. You have to forgive me. I've known Eren forever.. he's just someone to mess around with- I mean.. I don't have feelings for him. I messed up, people do that, I mean come on! I'm not perfect, and... I'm just sorry. You're an amazing guy, I haven't known you long, but I can already tell. You're just amazing. I don't believe in fate or destiny, but when I first met you, my heart felt funny... The kind of feeling you get when you know for the first time in years you're actually happy.. You've made me happy, Marco.. I'm in-" Jean's voice eventually trailed off, followed by the sound of an alarm clock blaring.
It had all just been a dream.
Marco's eyes directed toward the clock, reading 7:50 p.m. A very dazed, and confused huff left the boy, unsure of what day it was, or even if he had plans.
Minuets pass before he rolled out of bed, making his way toward the couch, and right before sitting there was a tap on the door.
"Yeah..?" Marco mumbles as he slides it open.
"Are you ready? It's 8, silly." Jean hummed, scanning over the clearly unprepared male before him.
"Oh my God! That's today!? Jesus, I'm so sorry! I over slept, and I had this dream, and well-" His words are cut off by the lips of the others coming in contact with his own.
"Take your time.. I'll wait." Marco's heart nearly melted. Their first kiss happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly... so perfectly.
"I'll be ready in five minuets," he stated, now calmly, "Come in, sit."
As Marco walked to his room, he glanced at the clock, now just reaching 8, "Did you come early on purpose?" He questioned, loud enough for Jean to hear.
"I wanted to plan ahead, just in case this happened," he chuckled, taking a seat on his sofa. "And as I predicted, it certainly did."
"Okay! I'm ready!" Marco grins, stepping out of his room with a childish smile across his pink lips. He wore a v-neck with a pair of his favorite pants and vans. Jean's eyes immediately scan up and down the freckled boys body with a grin.
"You look great," he states, standing to his feet. "Let's go, we don't want to be late." Without waisting another moment the two left Marco's apartment, and approached Jean's 1969 black Chevy boss SS.
"Damn... This car's yours? I was wondering who drove this thing. It's amazing!"
"Yeah, my dad gave it to me before I left." Jean responds with a brief smirk. The car he drove was one of the few things he was proud of.
After the two got into the car, Marco's gaze drifted out the window, being caught by surprise at the touch of Jean's hand on his own. "You alright..?"
"I'm wonderful," He whispered, while leaning over to give the blonde boy a kiss on his cheek. Things couldn't be going anymore perfect than they had been in the past half hour. The drive was quick, it seemed that time flew when they were together. Their conversation consisted of small talk, but it was sweet and loving. The way they felt for one another could be shown in their eyes and actions.
"Alrighty, we're here." Jean smiles, stepping out of the vehicle, followed by Marco.
"You come here a lot, right?" The brunette questions, clinging to the taller males side almost immediately with a gentle blush.
"Yeah, one of my buddies works the ticket booth," he points toward a short blonde standing behind the counter while smiling. The small boy waved at the two, smiling as well, "Jean! Who's this?" He questions, offering his hand to him.
"Armin, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Marco." Boyfriend? So soon? He felt his heart skip a beat at the word.
"H-hi.." He stuttered, taking Armin's hand and shaking it politely.
"Well hello. What will you two be seeing this evening, or may I guess? Love Actually? It's Jean's favorite. He sees it every weekend it plays, but up until now he's been alone! You're a pretty lucky guy, Marco!" With that he covered his red face, horribly embarrassed by Armin's kind words.
Jean, shaking his head, paid for their tickets and walked away with his new match by his side. He was the other half he had always been looking for, and in that moment he couldn't have felt happier.
The movie was pure bliss. Jean occasionally would lean over and give Marco a gentle kiss, and by the end of the film their lips could barley be separated.
The drive home was longer than expected, only because they were both looking forward to holding each other close, and snuggling in bed once they got back to the apartment.
"Hey Jean," he mumbled, turning toward the male while giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
"Yes?"
"You'll stay the night with me, won't you..? I-I mean you don't have to! But-"
"Well of course. I'd love to more than anything." The blondes reassuring words brought a smile to Marco's face, pulling into the drive as he glanced out the window.
Jean stretched as soon as he got out of the car, but only briefly before he hopped over to Marco's door and opened it for him.
"Aren't you sweet!" He giggled, taking Jean's hand and stepping from the car. They both walked quickly into the apartment, and directly into the bedroom.
Marco shoved Jean back onto the bed, immediately getting on top of him, their lips nearly impossible to separate once again. Nearly an hour passes of just the two sharing passionate kisses, nothing more.
Jean's lips were dark pink and swollen, but only making him even more appealing than before.
"Jean.." Marco whispers as he lays down beside him, immediately pulled close by the taller boys arm.
"Yeah?"
"I love you-" His voice trails off as his eyes close, falling into a light sleep in his lovers arms. Jean gave him a kiss on his forehead before pulling the blankets over both of them, and drifting slowly asleep as well.
Every so often in the night they'd switch positions. Either it was spooning, someone's head on the others chest, or their bodies just all tangled together. It couldn't have been more perfect. The morning came quickly however, both quickly awoken by the sun shining through the window.
"Nng.. Morning, handsome," Jean smiled while stretching his back. Marco in response gave him a kiss on the cheek, "Would you like me to go out and get you some coffee?"
"Can't I go with you..?"
"No, No. I have to surprise you. It's the best coffee in town, I promise. I'll get you a bagel as well, okay?"
Jean was silent for a moment, but coffee sounded lovely so he wouldn't complain, "Alright, but give me your number so I can call just in case."
After exchanging numbers, Marco hopped out of bed, blushing as soon as he realized he was still in his clothes from last night. He grabbed some pants along with a sweater, and changed in the restroom.
The smile he had never left his lips.
He was the happiest man in the world, he thought. Jean was so amazing, there were no words to describe it.
"Alright, I'll be back in 15, okay?" Marco shouted from the living room.
"Hey, wait! C'mere!"
With a shrug, he again entered the bedroom, and approached Jean's side of the bed. "Yes-" He's cut off by a goodbye kiss, so loving and sweet.
"Goodbye Marco.." He hummed, caressing his cheek as he stood straight once again.
"I'll be back, Jean. Don't worry about me."
"I'll miss youuuu~"
"Oh hush," Marco teases as he exits the apartment, sticking his hands into his pocket as he leaves. The coffee shop wasn't far, so a car wasn't necessary. Nearly five minuets after he'd left, he got a phone call from Jean.
"Hello?"
"Hi."
"Everything okay..?"
"Yep, just making sure that this worked," Jean giggles, "Okay I'll go now, see you in a few."
"Hah! Goodbye silly." Marco shakes his head, pressing 'end' as he slides his phone back into his pocket.
Jean had made his way into the living room, of course turning on the television, and watching the news. Normally, he wasn't up this early, but he could get used to it.
Twenty minuets go by, unknowingly.
"BREAKING NEWS," The TV blared, "...A hit and run this morning... one found dead..."
Jean's eyes shot open, immediately grabbing his phone and calling Marco.
"Hey!"
"Marco, oh my God I thought-"
"I'm unable to get to the phone right now.. leave a message-" Jean then pressed end. His heart beat was as loud as a drum.
~
The sound of Jean's piano echoed off the walls in the funeral home, Marco's body lay limp in the casket. The ivory piano keys were damp with salty tears, every so often leaking from Jean's golden eyes.
He played 'All of me.'
The song that introduced him to the love of his life.
The song that would lay the love of his life to rest.
The song he'd never play again, after that day.
