Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3570161.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Marco_Bott/Jean_Kirstein, Marco_Bott_&_Jean_Kirstein
  Character:
      Marco_Bott, Jean_Kirstein, Sasha_Blouse, Connie_Springer, Eren_Yaeger
  Additional Tags:
      jeanmarco, Christmas, crappy_Christmas_presents, Swimmer!Marco, Smut,
      Porn_With_Plot, Blow_Jobs, Anal_Sex, Rudolph_the_Red-Nosed_Reindeer_-
      Freeform
  Series:
      Part 3 of The_JeanMarco_Project
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-03-18 Words: 6231
****** How Sasha Once Explained Marco What Shipping Is And How It Became
Crucial To His Life ******
by InkyKinky
Summary
     Basically the title, Marco getting deeply religious, and a white
     Christmas.
Notes
     Marco's POV, I hope you'll laugh a lot.
     I also have a Tumblr and Twitter.
See the end of the work for more notes
‘You know,’ Sasha said, grinning widely, ‘it’s basically – see, you have
Nagisa, and look at how hard he tries to get Rei into the swim team, or in
general, how flustered Rei is whenever Nagisa is around. That’s – that’s love.’
‘So they are shipping material?’ Marco asked, his eyebrows pulled up,
questioning if he got it right.
‘Exactly!’
‘OK, so basically, it’s nothing else but – matchmaking? For … fictional
characters.’
‘Yes. Kind of. You see, it’s you want these characters to be a thing, and some
ships are canon, maybe like Ron and Hermione, some can be indicated by the
canon, and some are just … because the chemistry could work or is kinda
interesting. I love crack-ships,’ Sasha chuckled into her sandwich.
‘Ah, I see,’ Marco nodded. Since Sasha had dived into the whole tumblr-and-
therefore-also-anime thing, she was all about that kind of stuff. Not that he
really minded, she definitely got him into Free! as well, not only because it
was about a swim team. It was … actually good.
‘And that’s what all the – fanfics are about?’
Sasha nodded confirming, not without a proud grin on how fast her pupil kept
up.
‘And the whole matchmaking part happens in the fanfics, basically. Like, you
write AUs – people seem to love college AUs – they fall in love, they have sex,
and if you are unfortunate the fic has just started and consists of thirty plus
chapters.’
‘W-why is it something bad?’ Marco blinked owlishly at the girl in front of
him, ‘I mean … more time for … you know…?’ He became beet-red at the thought.
‘If there’s an actual plot, that’s frigging dangerous, Marco,’ Sasha fixated
him with a dead-serious stare, ‘All the broken hearts…’ She clutched her chest
and pretended to sob.
‘Oh-kay.’ Marco eyed her, maybe a little scared. He couldn’t say that those
adult content writings didn’t excite him – Sasha had sent him quite a bunch
once but he still hadn’t read them, maybe because he probably couldn’t look
into his mother’s eyes for weeks if he did, but he really was intrigued. It
could distract him a bit from his own miserable love-life.
‘There are also some weirdos,’ Sasha mused while staring out of the class room
window, ‘who take people like Dan and Phil and write smut about them. I don’t
know, I think it’s weird. It’s as though I’d write smut about you and Jean.
Though actually…’
‘Sasha no!’ Marco groaned, and he seriously was glad that no-one else spent
their lunch break with them. Sasha pretty much was the only person whom he had
told about his giant crush on Jean he cherished since seventh grade, and having
a written proof of that somewhere, or even just the idea of how his best friend
imagined him having actual sex manifested in words, made this at least five-
hundred times more horrible than it already was.
‘Don’t panic, man,’ Sasha sniggered, ‘I ain’t doin’ that.’
‘If I just could believe you,’ Marco moaned, not very successfully hiding his
giggles.
That was in September.
 
Now they were in those awful weeks between Autumn and Christmas holidays where
each and every teacher placed their exams and presentations, and Marco stared
at his phone screen.
From: Sasha Braus
How long is your dick
He stared, and stared, and stared, but the question without the correct
punctuation didn’t morph into something less … weird.
What was this about? What did Sasha do? What did she plan, this wasn’t
something normal friends asked each other, was it?
Marco at least never wanted to know what cup size Sasha had, and it’d feel
extremely awkward to actually ask that. That was something private, maybe a
significant other could ask such things –
Oh.
Please don’t let this be something about Jean, this definitely means no good,
however you look at this, Marco prayed silently in his bed.
After what felt like eternity, he replied.
To: Sasha Braus
Uhm... Sasha? Are you well?
With this, he was safe. Was he?
From: Sasha Braus
Yes goddamn marco just tell me i need it for research
Wait – for research? Sasha clearly had dismissed Biology after one year with
the most crazy teacher their school or, more in general, their country had to
offer, and there seriously couldn’t be a single reason why she needed it for
research in any other subject. Especially, why his … penis?
To: Sasha Braus
For what do you need it exactly? I mean you are not drunk or anything? Or did
you smoke weed again?
Yes, that was more likely. Just drugged Sasha, it wasn’t the first time.
From: Sasha Braus
NO MARCO IM PERFECTLY SOBER I JUST REALLY NEED TO KNOW
This slowly became more and more scary. What should he do? He worried on his
lips.
To: Sasha Braus
I think it has kind of average size?
Maybe this would calm her. He had seriously no idea about what average actually
was, and he seriously never had done anything close to measuring it, but this
must be the safest thing to say.
From: Sasha Braus
BUT I NEED TO KNOW WHATS AVERAGE DEAR LORD
Okay. OKAY. How to handle this.He seriously had no idea.
To: Sasha Braus
Err…
Marco bit on his lip. Should he…? That would give himself some clarity, and
before Sasha burned down houses or something, it was easier to just tell her.
If he just knew…
Jean, think about Jean – and suddenly, Marco’s hand was at his fly. He hoped
that his little sister won’t have a fight with their mum and came storming in
just because it was so unjust, not now.
Jean, how he kisses him on plump, swollen lips, how he breathes into his neck,
how his fingers wrap around his cock –
Marco was palming himself through his underwear, a deep shade of red on his
cheeks from the embarrassment and shame. This was so wrong, dear Lord, someone
slap him with a bible.
His phone was buzzing next to his pillow, but he simply ignored it, imagining
how it were his hands diving beyond the rim to pull at his hard –
Wait, that was the purpose. He felt how the first drops of pre-come soaked
through his shirt, and he pulled down his pants to the knees, letting his boner
spring free. It was like the most sinful thing he had ever done as he grabbed
for his mum’s measuring tape on his desk from when she had to scribble down his
shoulder and collar width for new shirts. He felt so lewd and dirty, but
somehow this made it the more exciting.
He seriously should sort out his life.
He was so going to hell for this.
He tried to fix one end on his base, though he wasn’t sure whether to use the
bottom or top end, and rolled the rest along the slight curve it made, trying
not so smear pre-come on the tape.
Was roundabout twenty centimetres average? He knew that the other boys in the
swim team had probably smaller ones, but he had never seen them … erect. This
could make a huge difference. He had heard.
Okay, maybe he should stop lying to himself that he most definitely did not
watch gay porn, because he did. He usually loved to blame Sasha for this since
she made him read those fanfics as well, but in truth it was all about how
needy and very desperate he actually was.
He whipped the tape dry, just in case, before it snapped back into the plastic
case. What did he do with his boner now – wait, there was still a message on
his phone.
From: Sasha Braus
I looked it up 13 cm
Oh.
Then this is. Most definitely. Not. Average.
To: Sasha Braus
OK no, it’s a bit larger.
It most definitely was, and his arousal seemed to be staring at him at the
moment, judging, making the entire thing more embarrassing than it already was.
From: Sasha Braus
DID YOU JUST PALM YOURSELF TO KNOW HOW LARGE YOU ARE GODDAMNIT MARCO THE POOR
RULER
It’s a measuring tape, Marco corrected her in his head defensively, and he
really didn’t need to be told how wrong this was. He knew. It didn’t change the
fact that his face had the colour of a tomato.
To: Sasha Braus
You asked me!
Well, it was true.
From: Sasha Braus
OK if bigger than average then how long
After all you did it for science, now you just could tell her, he mused. He got
rid of his jeans and pants entirely before he snug into his covers because it
got cold. He needed to do the maths for a bit, but then he typed an answer.
To: Sasha Braus
About um... 5-8 cm longer I don’t know where it really starts I’m sorry oh God
this is embarrassing please don’t tell anyone we had this conversation...
He really prayed for Jean never to find their phones. Or Connie. He didn’t know
what’d be worse.
From: Sasha Braus
Ok thanks do you know how longs lil jean
If it was possible, he blushed even harder at that.
To: Sasha Braus
Sasha, what are you doing? And I really have no idea... I mean I could /guess/
but that clearly would be in favour for Jean and maybe not quite realistic. And
I’m really bad at guessing sizes. Why do you actually need to know such stuff?
He waited anxiously for a reply, but Sasha didn’t send anything after that. And
after all, he still had a more or less average problem downstairs.
Marco rolled up his sleeves and pushed his shirt up his stomach that it won’t
get soaked before he began stroking his length. Oh God, did it feel good.
Imagine how Jean’s hand wraps around you, how he slowly goes down on you with
that challenging glint in his eyes, kissing your hips, closing his mouth around
your cock…
It didn’t take much for Marco to come.
                                      ***
Marco really wanted to know what Sasha was about, it was a question burning
passionately on his lips, but he had no class with her on Fridays and she
hadn’t replied to his last message.
Maybe it was an internet-thing…? Like who of your friends was the biggest?
But since Sasha notoriously had refused to give any of her friends her Tumblr
URL, it kept Marco from worrying too much.
As soon as Jean started throwing nervous glances at him every now and then
during History, Marco really didn’t know what was up. He also didn’t dare to
ask for obvious reasons, one of them was him jerking off to his best friend not
even nearly twenty-four hours ago. His freckled cheeks turned a furious red,
and Ms Ral asked kindly if he was well since he seemed so tense.
‘No, no, I’m fine,’ he replied, trying to hide his face from the rest of the
class. Oh God, everything got out of hand, thank you Sasha, thank you very
much.
And his suffering didn’t end that day.
When he was safe and warmly wrapped up in his blanket-burrito that evening
while watching Pride and Prejudice because he felt like it and his sister
didn’t mind lending her 2005 DVD, he received a message.
From: Sasha Braus
Jeanie wants 2 know ur crush
Marco’s eyes widened it panic.
Oh my God no.
To: Sasha Braus
Oh God what have you done Sasha?
The time Sasha needed to reply was horrible, his guts twisting in every
uncomfortable way. What did Jean know.
From: Sasha Braus
I said youd like a dick
Marco squinted.
To: Sasha Braus
/A/ dick?
No answer. How was this girl able to ruin his entire life and he couldn’t even
be really angry with her? What kind of sorcery is this?
Then…
From: Sasha Braus
Hang on ur dick is bigger than jeans
What was he supposed to do with this information – wait, what? Why the bloody
hell did she know that? What was she doing, what – Oh no.
It slowly dawned to Marco. A conversation from summer came back into his mind,
and all his blood had drained from his face. This couldn’t be real, this was
too surreal to take place in his very real life, Sasha had called it weird –
To: Sasha Braus
Sasha? Are you serious or is Connie just with you?
This was a legitimate question.
From: Sasha Braus
Not yet
She was serious. Dead serious.
To: Sasha Braus
Sasha...? :o I am scared.
Another buzz.
From: Jean Kirschtein
Sasha says u have a crush amirite
OK, no, scratch how he couldn’t even be really angry with Sasha, he most
definitely was angry at her.
To: Jean Kirschtein
It’s Sasha we’re talking about here :-D
Right. Deny everything. It’s all Sasha’s fault.
From: Jean Kirschtein
Dont mean she aint rite
From: Jean Kirschtein
Why didnt u tell me u r gay u r gay rite
From: Jean Kirschtein
Is it a problem 2 u
From: Jean Kirschtein
U kno i dont judge u only if u lie 2 me cuz thats a dick move
To: Jean Kirschtein
I didn’t lie to you!
From: Jean Kirschtein
Then who is it dude
To: Sasha Braus
Sasha...? Jean wants to know whom I fancy, I need your help, what do I do????
D-:
He was simply panicking. He couldn’t confess to Jean, and especially not now
via SMS. There was Elizabeth accusing Mr Darcy on his laptop screen in the
background, just as he had declared his love – no, we aren’t going there,
Marco.
From: Jean Kirschtein
HOW DOES EVERYONE KNOW BUT ME MARCO WHAT IS THIS SHIT?!??!?
Pleasepleasepleaseplease PLEASE, Marco prayed, but it didn’t stop.
From: Jean Kirschtein
AND WHY DOES NOONE TELL ME???!?!?!? LIKE AM I NOT YOUR BF?? I SHOULD KNO SUCH
THINGS?????
What.
To: Jean Kirschtein
BF?
Tentatively, he clicked on send. Marco’s heart hammered in his chest. Did Jean
just forget to put the second F there? And if not then what did that mean what
did that make them, why did Sasha not reply?
From: Jean Kirschtein
 Best friend
Srsly dude u can be such a dick like why the fuck didnt u tell me why did sash
kno everything and i dont??
Simply because it is you Jean, Marco yelled at him mentally.
To: Jean Kirschtein
I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to leave you in the dark. – Oh what a lie –
It’s just not for so long yet and really new to me – this is also wrong – and I
don’t even know if this is actually real.
What. A. Lie.
He felt so horrible in sending this text, but it was for the best. However
accepting Jean ever would be, he simply knew Jean would quit as soon as he
found out the truth.
From: Jean Kirschtein
What makes it so different from tellin me now that i know?
Maybe just don’t reply, a voice whispered in his head.
To: Jean Kirschtein
It’s not so easy, Jean. I need to figure out…a lot at first.
Stupid, but I did it anyway, Marco mused as he pressed send.
From: Jean Kirschtein
Whats so different to sasha
Oh, that was easy.
To: Jean Kirschtein
She’s a girl and knows probably more about falling in love with a guy than you
do, Jean. I’m sorry, but the last I could need right now is Reiner Braun
knowing about this.
Hopefully, this didn’t sound too weird.
From: Jean Kirschtein
But how is she less likely to tell reiner? Is reiner ur crush??
Marco rolled his eyes.
To: Jean Kirschtein
No, he is not. I just don’t need the entire school to know that Marco Bott is
gay, especially if I’m not certain I actually am. And compared to you, Sasha
isn’t an open book to him.
He couldn’t argue with this.Could he?
Marco worried his lip, but there came no other message from his friend.
Elizabeth was just hurrying back home after Lydia eloped, and Marco nestled
deeper into his cocoon, falling asleep before the credits scrolled down.
                                      ***
The following days couldn’t be explained differently than plainly weird. Jean
was poking Marco with one and the same question again and again whenever they
happened to be alone, and to Marco’s fortune, it was never Jean suggesting
himself whenever he wanted to get names into the game.
‘No, Jean, I don’t have a crush on Eren,’ Marco replied, voice strained as they
walked to the tram stop together.
‘Oh, then it’s someone from the swim team, how didn’t I get this idea, I’m so
dumb.’
Marco just had to laugh because oh boy.
‘No, Jean, I’m sorry, I’m not –’
There was this look again in his eyes, that look that gave Marco wobbly knees
and took away his breath. Marco blushed.
‘You are!’ Jean grinned triumphantly, obviously deducing that from his blush.
Oh that could be a fun ride, Marco thought with a smug grin.
‘Nope, even Eren was closer than that.’
And Jean pouted.
How Marco would have loved to kiss those pouting, plump lips right then – but
he couldn’t.
‘You just say that to confuse me,’ Jean mewled.
‘Maybe,’ Marco smirked as he entered the tram. Seriously, this became a fun
game if he was honest. When Marco had to leave for his stop, Jean had checked
at least a dozen names, some of them even twice, and he still had no clue.
What if he just can’t believe I was into him? What if he has a crush on me?
Marco wondered while shopping for the first Christmas presents (seriously, you
could never start too early.) But this was just so unlikely, how could Jean Mr
I-Am-So-Straight-That-You-Could-Use-Me-As-A-Water-Level even slightly think
that way?
Ifhe had had a crush on Marco, he probably had blurted something out as soon as
he had realised, just like with Mikasa. The memory still hurt, but oh well,
Marco had no right to judge.
                                      ***
Somehow, Jean became quiet the more time passed. Unusually quiet, if Marco was
honest, but at least he didn’t bother him about his crush anymore. They kind of
co-existed, they still had their gaming nights and all, but it wasn’t as noisy
as it usually was. But it also became more difficult to look away. From Jean.
Marco didn’t know what it was, or why Jean suddenly decided to wear jeans which
Marco believed Jean hadn’t worn since forever simply because they were too
small – but they weren’t. They just looked incredibly tight and barely left
anything to Marco’s imagination, and it should have been illegal. He also wore
that one special grey shirt very often that Jean usually had for going-out
nights, and Marco wondered if Mrs Kirschtein won’t refuse to wash it all the
time in near future, seeing as it needed special care and ironing. But who was
Marco to complain if it just looked murderously good, especially with sleeves
rolled up.
Sasha’s weird texts had also ended, so either she had given up, or she was
already done, and Marco dreaded the last option, most definitely he did so,
because the situation was hard enough as it already was, partly literally
speaking.
Swim practice offered, more than usual, enough sore muscles for Marco to
fantasise about Jean massaging him under the shower, sliding their bodies
together, kissing his neck. Sometimes he hated team showers for that, but in
the end, he probably was glad. He shouldn’t linger in his daydreams about a
crush he knew would never be a real thing. Not if he could count one and one
together, with Jean wearing hot stuff.
As far as he didn’t complain, he also did know that there must have been a
reason for this, and he had seen it all before when Mikasa was basically all
Jean could think, say, and breathe.And now it was …someone else. Maybe someone
from the lower classes? Or maybe … no Bott, we aren’t that desperate. We are
not making up things, he impossibly could be … could he?
When those thoughts occurred to Marco, Jean did sit mere metres away, squished
between Connie, Eren, and Armin, very invested into Sasha’s football game,
brows knitted together in a concentrated frown. Was it Sasha?
Noooo… he doesn’t even look her way. No.
Was he though?
No, wait, you are overthinking things again, that’s no good, Marco, just let
this man be…
But who?
The game and the aftermath didn’t give him any hint, and it was bothering him.
Why didn’t Jean say a thing? Was that payback for Marco? Did he just make him
believe he was in love with someone just to make a fool out of him?
Oh Jean, really, that’s so low… But nothing happened. Jean didn’t say a thing.
Not that day. Or the day after that. Nor two weeks later when Marco ran into
Eren and Jean discussing vividly in low voices, but suddenly stopping as soon
as Marco was in earshot, and Jean constantly shooting glares at the green-eyed
boy in his company. If Marco didn’t have his birthday in June, he probably
would’ve believed they were planning a surprise party or something like that,
but he most definitely didn’t have his birthday in near future, nor any
anniversaries he should be aware of. Only … Christmas. Did they plan anything
on Christmas? Or New Year’s? Was it something he should be afraid of?
So with even more mixed feelings than usual he attended the annual Christmas
Bazaar of their school where he sold self-made cookies and crêpes which were
really popular with everyone who didn’t have lunch that day. So he stood with
Christa together in their little stand in the auditorium, observing how the
crowds passed by, or rather how 75% were stopping to get a crêpe, and they
almost ran out of dough before the next shift could save them.
When he had about a quarter left until Bert would switch places with him, Marco
heard a faint yell that sounded enormously like Sasha shouting his name.
Somewhere in the crowds he saw a hand waving at him and he waved back smiling
before he noticed he almost was burning the crêpe in his pan.
‘Would you mind meeting us in the music room after your shift?’ he heard her
say over the people’s heads.
‘Sure, see you then!’ Marco grinned back and occupied himself with baking more
French pancakes and filling them with Nutella.
The shift ended faster than he had anticipated, and so he was strolling through
the packed auditorium until he reached the exit to the staircase. The music
rooms were on the top floor, and with so many people running up and down the
stairs, even with his broader frame, it was rather difficult for Marco to reach
it.
When he walked down the corridor, he already could make out something that was
probably supposed to be Helene Fischer, very out of tune, and he didn’t need to
look for his friends any longer either since they were standing almost in the
door, smiling as soon as they saw him, and he waved at them happily.
‘Hey, guys! What’s up?’ Marco grinned as he reached Connie, Sasha, and Jean.
‘I think these two goofballs,’ Jean nodded in Connie and Sasha’s direction,
‘want to sing karaoke, and as I know these two we’ll end up as–’
‘Aach, shut up, Kirschtein,’ Sasha interrupted him with an eye-roll, ‘No, we
don’t want to sing karaoke, though if you feel the urge you totally can do
that, but after I gave you your Christmas presents.’
Marco and Jean blinked at her owlishly as she fumbled with her cotton bag,
adorned with a comic Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer sewn on one side, its nose
actually enlightened with a red LED. Marco remembered how she bought it mere
days ago on the Christmas market in the city centre.
The presents turned out to be two DIN A 4 sized, flabby things wrapped into
awful paper that could come straight from the 50s that Sasha pushed into either
hands.
‘I don’t care who gets which, they are basically identical,’ she said to a very
confused Marco. No, actually he wasn’t confused at all, he just couldn’t
believe it. Jean was eyeing her suspectingly.
‘I don’t know, if you want to unwrap it now, you should go somewhere else that
you can discuss the content without public audience – or you wait until
Christmas Eve, yet under one condition: You have to phone each other
immediately after you have examined you present. Love you guys,’ she quickly
hugged them, rushing a peck on their cheeks without a warning and vanished with
Connie on her heels. Marco stared for a while dumbfounded back at where she
just had stood, not able to prepare for what was now unavoidable.
‘So, what is that?’ Jean eyed the cherry-red folder he just had unwrapped.
Marco shrugged, pretending not to know though he had a horrible, horrible
foreboding, and fought with the ribbon on his parcel.
‘She was so odd lately, anyway. Like asking for my dick size and telling that
you two have snoged before … This girl is kind of crazy,’ Jean muttered
further, not noticing how deep red Marco was underneath his freckles. Somewhere
in the background it seemed that Dr. Hanji was singing 1000 und 1 Nacht, and
this was just so weirdly ironic considering Marco’s situation.
‘I don’t know, m-maybe open it,’ Marco suggested, trying to cool down his
nervousness. ‘I don’t think that Sasha would just give us some old folders she
does not – oh.’
Jean had done as he was told, and the front cover titled “The JeanMarco
Project. An essay on why these two should be definitely together or at least
have sex.”
This was the moment when Marco favoured a very very sudden death.
‘Oh.’
‘My.’
‘God.’
Marco could feel the heat rushing into his face that he was sure he at least
had to pass out by so much blood in his head, but he did not. He still stared
at the paper Sasha undoubtedly had finished, that Jean undoubtedly stared at as
well, reading undoubtedly the very same words.
Sasha, I hate you, I so most certainly hate you– but Jean suddenly started
laughing. It sounded a bit hysterical, but it was a laugh, maybe it wasn’t half
as bad as Marco had thought, maybe he would consider it a joke from Sasha’s
side because it was just her quirky, weird self, and well, she was into such
things.
First pearls of laughter escaped Marco’s throat, maybe it was because Jean was
laughing and it was just so infectious, maybe to loosen up his tension, maybe…
Jean’s eyes suddenly locked with his, his laughter stopped, and Marco was very
sure that this was something called ‘bedroom-eyes’.
Oh God.
OH GOD.
‘I – I had no idea,’ was all Marco could mutter before his mind would go
completely blank. It was intoxicating how Jean was so close with his honey eyes
half-way closed and his lips parted slightly, and it was so hard not to let his
eyes flutter shut but at the same time he wanted to drink in this sight as long
as he could, his lips feeling so heavy, his heart hammering in his ribcage,
rushing blood everywhere, how could Sasha do this, how did she know – and Jean
closed the distance, Marco’s eyes shutting down immediately. He felt Jean
pulling him down on his level, and it was so so good.
Marco did not know how, but somehowJean had pulled him into a silent corner in
the basement close to the Biology labs and pressed him against the wall, their
mouths barely leaving, and if they went on like that, Marco was certain he’d
come in his pants. But suddenly, Jean pulled away, not for just breathing
again, and leaned his forehead against Marco’s broad shoulder.
‘Marco?’ he panted, barely hiding the grin in his voice.
‘Hah?’ the freckled boy replied, his mind too dizzy to form a proper sentence
yet.
‘So, this was like, just recent? I mean why the fuck did you even crush on me,
I’m such a loser, and maybe it’s just a phase, I mean I’m not sure about the
whole bisexual-thing either and that’s going on for a year or so and–’
‘A year?’ Marco looked at him, no, staring at him almost bewildered, not
believing what he just had heard.
‘Y-yes?’ Jean looked up at him, a bit nervous, ‘How long did you think I–’
‘Oh God, I thought this was since, like, when Sasha was texting so weird things
and I was so scared she’d tell you that I had a crush on you, and then you
started wearing those things again and I thought you’d have a crush on God
knows who, and I just … I just –’
‘How long are you … then,’ Jean asked, his eyes evading Marco’s.
‘Since … since seventh grade?’ Marco’s face heated up again.
‘And that is recent to you?’ Jean’s sarcasm was definitely audible.
‘I-I had to say something, I couldn’t just – just tell you – didn’t know what
you’d think –’ but Marco’s voice fainted into a sighed moan as Jean slipped
into his mouth again with his tongue, making his head spin and it became hard
to breathe.
 
At one point, Marco texted his sister that they could go home without him
because ‘he and his friends would go out afterwards’. Truth was that Jean’s
parents won’t be home, and not five minutes after they had entered the house,
Marco laid with his back flat on Jean’s bed.
‘Okay, first off, I’ve never done that before,’ Jean said while rapidly
discarding his rather skinny jeans.
‘Me neither,’ Marco admitted with a blush, franticly fiddling with the buttons
on his shirt until they finally popped open. After shoving his socks from his
feet, Jean followed suit, of course wearing that one grey shirt again, hastily
kissing Marco as his shirt went flying somewhere into his desk’s direction.
Somehow also Marco’s lower regions were freed that they sat on Jean’s covers
only dressed in their boxers, both with considerable bulges. Jean hitched a
breath.
‘I … mean … we could also … wait a little … if you want,’ Jean said cautiously,
eyeing the freckled boy up hungrily.
‘Do you … want to wait?’ Marco asked, equally cautious not to step on someone’s
borders. Jean shook his head slowly, his eyes fixating Marco with an almost
sinful expression. It had something of the ‘lewd catholic schoolgirl’ kink, and
Marco wasn’t sure if that should turn him on because it most definitely made
his dick twitch in his boxers.
‘No,’ Jean breathed as he leaned forward, joining their lips again in a wet,
deep kiss, and settled himself in Marco’s lap, roaming his hands along Marco’s
jawline, down his chest and over the well-toned swimmer-abs, sneaking beyond
the waistband on Marco’s boxers and cupping his arse, squeezing it a bit and
pulling the cheeks slightly apart while grinding their clothed arousals against
each other, making Marco moan to the sensation of being so desperately wanted,
needed, and every gasp into their kiss on Marco’s side made Jean grin.
Marco’s fingers rubbed down Jean’s back, tracing down his spine until he
reached into Jean’s pants as well and palmed his arse slowly, sliding lower and
lower until Jean’s butt was completely exposed. Jean arched his back from the
tension between them, pressing their erections closer together that Marco could
swear his heart just skipped a beat.
‘Jean– Jean I think we … maybe should – clarify,’ Marco breathed into the kiss,
sliding Jean’s boxers down so his stiff cock could spring free, ‘who bottoms.’
‘Right, I don’t care, whatever you want,’ Jean muttered, way too occupied with
dragging his lips wherever Marco had skin.
‘Jea–Ah–n that’s not helping at all,’ Marco replied in a groan, tilting his
head to the side to give Jean better access to his neck.
‘I could – suck you off – if you want,’ Jean said between open-mouthed kisses
on freckled skin, and a moan escaped Marco’s throat, louder than intended.
‘That sounds like a yes,’ Jean sniggered, dragging his hands up Marco’s back
and pushing him down on the mattress as soon as he had reached his shoulders.
He licked his way down Marco’s chest, tugging at his nipples which made Marco
groan and his dick twitch, even more so since Jean shifted in his lap and
rubbed their cocks together by that. Marco was quick to pull Jean’s boxers down
completely, the body-hair on his legs so strange to the swimmer, but it somehow
felt nice against his palm. Jean shivered a bit as Marco slid his hands up
Jean’s legs again, and he mouthed down Marco’s stomach, smooth as a baby-butt
but still so toned and freaking hot.
Without any hesitation, Jean discarded Marco’s underwear, kissing the tip of
the freckled boy’s cock, his lips smeared with pre-come, licking him at the
spot directly under his head. One of his hands came to a halt at Marco’s hip,
the other on the base of his swollen dick, and with an almost shy glance up to
him, Jean took Marco into his mouth.
The brunette’s fingers fisted desperately into the pillow next to him, his left
hand came flying to his mouth that he won’t moan in an obnoxious volume and
disturb Jean’s neighbours as Jean swivelled his tongue over the head. Then Jean
took in more, stroking the base lightly to compensate for not deep-throating
him, and Marco’s back was arching. He hollowed his cheeks, bobbing his head,
leaving Marco a whining mess that even biting into his hand didn’t help
muffling the sounds he made.
Jean hummed in approval, the vibration in the tight, wet heat making the
freckled boy’s head spin and his body shiver, and dear Lord, he wouldn’t last
long like this. Marco tried to thrust into Jean’s sweet mouth because he was so
close, so close, but the blonde kept his hips in place. With a quick lick over
Marco’s slit, Jean sent him over the edge crying Jean’s name, arching
beautifully from the mattress, and Jean let him come in his mouth until he had
spilled all his come inside him, and he swallowed it to the last drop.
‘Oh my God, Jean,’ Marco panted as Jean came up to him again, spoiling freckled
skin with quick pecks, ‘that was amazing, where did you learn that?’
But Jean just grinned slyly, shrugging, before kissing that mouth that just had
screamed his name so nicely, still the taste of Marco’s come in his mouth.
‘A-and what … do you … want me … to do?’ Marco asked, blushing shyly as he saw
Jean’s leaking boner. His was tracing Marco’s sides tentatively with his
fingers, sending shivers down his spine.
‘Hm, dunno,’ Jean whispered against his lips, ‘whatever you feel like.’
Marco hitched a breath before he got the courage to say it out loud, if the
airy cry could be called that way.
‘F-fuck me.’
Jean froze.
‘W-was that wrong?’ Marco asked panicky, hoping he didn’t go too far – yet Jean
just had sucked him up, there wasn’t much a difference, was there?
‘N-no, i-it’s just unexpected? A-also aren’t people more sensitive, after they
came?’ Jean blushed furiously.
‘I – I don’t care, I want you inside me.’
Was that seriously coming from his, Marco Bott’s, mouth?
‘O-okay,’ Jean nodded, kissing him once again before he grabbed for lube and a
condom in his bedside table.
Long story short, Jean didn’t need long to get wrecked by Marco’s incredible
tight heat while abusing his sensitive everything to let Marco come a second
time, and both deflated on Jean’s bed together, sweaty skin pressed against
each other in the dizzy afterglow. They cleaned up, though, and almost
immediately after that they fell asleep, limbs tangled under the cover,
listening to each other’s steadying breaths.
 
One week later, they somehow managed to find some alone-time together, between
Christmas concerts, shopping trips, and in general obnoxious friends and
family, and Marco stayed over at Jean’s again until he had to head back home,
getting ready for church and the holiday festivities.
It was Christmas Eve, and while Marie was unwrapping one of their grandmother’s
self-knit Christmas jumpers, Marco’s eyes fell on a cherry-red folder that he
had stashed away in a corner together with what he assumed was a freckled
matchstick-man from Connie (in cooperation with his younger siblings) and a
bottle of lube from Eren (his parents luckily did not ask why he might need
this) with a note that Jean got the matching condoms, and he had to smile.
To: Sasha Braus
 Hey Sash! I just wanted to thank you again for the present, and I hope you’ll
like mine as well! Merry Christmas! :-)
(It was a matching hat to her reindeer-bag that lit up as well if you squeezed
one of the antlers.) And with a grin, he added,
To: Sasha Braus
 Though I must say that Jean’s prostate is stimulated very easily ;-)
A few minutes later, his phone buzzed in his pocket, waiting for him to read
the incoming message.
From: Sasha Braus
Merry xmas :) i hope u didnt wreck jeans sweet butt tho.
If she knew, if she just knew…
End Notes
     I'm so- Am I sorry? Probably not, heh :^D
     I hope you enjoyed it, and kudos, comments and critiques are as
     always appreciated! Also thanks for reading :)
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