Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1699544.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Marco_Bott/Jean_Kirstein/Reader
  Character:
      Jean_Kirstein, Marco_Bott
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, Lemon
  Series:
      Part 4 of Jean_x_reader_x_Marco
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-05-27 Words: 5038
****** Two is a lonely number ******
by Falconette
Summary
     Graduation means your separation from Jean and Marco, but at least
     you have this moment
Notes
     One of my OT3 (Jean x reader x Marco) stories. They are
     interconnected as they happen in the same universe, however can be
     read separately.
Two is a lonely number

The pale moonlight was shining through trees just bright enough for you to make
out the narrow, twisting path amid the thick undergrowth. You walked slowly,
carefully moving swinging twigs out of your way. The forest was deceptively
still in the night, so you could hear their voices long before you reached the
small clearing marked by a fallen tree trunk. Not that they were even trying to
be quiet, especially Jean, whose retorts rang through the thickets much further
than Marco’s parts of the conversation.

“There she is.” Marco was the first to notice you, perching on the fallen tree
and waving his hand to get your attention. In the wane moonlight the contrast
between whiteness of his skin and blackness of his hair and eyes seemed even
starker, but the smile was just as warm.

“You sure took your time.” Jean glanced at you from where he was swinging,
halfway up a tree, reeling in a loose wire of his 3D maneuver gear.  

“Couldn’t slip out unnoticed.” you shrugged and went over to where Marco was
sitting to get a better view of what Jean was doing. “Isn’t it a bit too late
for training?”

“It is not too late for scoring points.” he mumbled through teeth with an angry
edge in his voice, his focus on the task again. Perplexed, your gaze
instinctively shifted to Marco for an explanation and he offered it while
extending his arm and pulling you in closer. Lately, he didn’t waste his time
on small talk before things got physical, but was also more reluctant to end
your furtive meetings. The boys probably realized that graduation meant
separation and now that it came down to couple more weeks of training, the
obvious was hanging like a storm cloud above your heads. Unmentioned, yet
menacing.

“Jean thinks that learning new maneuver tricks will place him above Eren on the
accomplishments’ list.” his voice was calm and deep as he pressed his cheek
against your ribcage to immerse himself in your scent. “Mmm, you are finally
here.”

“I cannot believe I am that idiot’s runner-up!” Jean’s voice echoed into the
woods from the tree he climbed. The base was far away but it was reckless to
push your luck.

“Keep it down!” you shouted back at him, “You can never be sure if we’re alone
in the forest! Someone else might be out for a stroll, too!”

“Well I don’t care if the whole world hears!” Jean was standing on a branch,
wildly gesticulating with twin operating devices in his clutched fists, “If I
learn that trick, I’ll give them something to watch too!”

“What trick?” you asked, making sure he heard you up there.

“If I could show you, do you think I would be here learning how to do it in the
first place?!”

You opened your mouth to retort but Marco’s hand pulled you gently but
persistently down to sit next to him, hugging your shoulders tightly. “Hey,
hey, you are both too noisy.” he hushed you. “The trick is in agility. You know
how Connie is good at nimble changes of his trajectory, even in mid air?”

You nodded, ignoring the rustling Jean made while chopping down smaller
branches with his blades and the excessive zeal he was putting behind his
swings.  Marco’s arm felt warm and calmingly heavy across your shoulder blades
and you reached out your hand and intertwined your fingers with his, offering a
silent apology. There was something in Jean that inevitably caused friction
between you two, which was good for lovemaking but bad for working together
and, inevitably, Marco found himself in between. Sometimes literally.

He smiled, squeezing your hand in acknowledgment, while he explained. His dark
eyes here watching you, but even in scarce light you could tell that lecturing
was not the thing on his mind.  The patience in his voice was as thick and
transparent as a layer of silk. “He somehow rapidly shifts the center of his
balance by using his arms, legs and breathing to do the trick which, in turn,
allows him to do those sharp turns the instructors are praising him for. We
have to figure out just how he does it.”

“Why not simply ask Connie what the deal is?” you chuckled as Marco brought
your entwined fingers to his lips and slid them across your skin,
questioningly. Quiet and suppressed, the desire in his eyes burned deep and was
easy to miss, if you didn’t know how to look. The tongue that flickered between
his lips tickled, making your smile widen.

“That was the first thing I did!” you flinched at the irritated voice because
you thought you were out of Jean’s earshot, “The dimwit has no idea how he does
it! It just comes natural to him. What kind of answer is that!? Useless!” He
kicked at a hacked-off branch with his boot, sending it crashing down, and
wiped at his brow with his forearm. “Spot me Marco, I am ready to try again.
Now that the friggin leaves are gone, I will see better where I aim…” Jean’s
voice became less and less audible as his concentration sharpened. Marco
sighed, let go of your hand and stood up.

“Alright.” he gave Jean a thumb up, “Try pulling your knees up as far as you
can when you have halfway cleared the arc…”

“I know, I know.” Jean impatiently interrupted and dove off the branch,
simultaneously firing the twin grappling hooks towards the place he just
vacated. Both latched deeply into the tree with a cracking noise, sending
pieces of torn bark raining across the forest floor. It was too dark to see the
wires, but the sound of them being reeled in by the spring mechanism on Jean’s
back was unmistakable. In a moment, Jean’s body began ascending instead of
falling and an invisible push of gas burst swung him aside in a wide arc.

“Now!” Marco disregarded his own advice and shouted out, taking an inadvertent
step forward.

Everything happened too fast for the eye to see, but the curses that followed
the attempt were eloquent enough.

“Dammit, we got it wrong!” Jean’s angry voice undulated as he swung back and
forth from the branch, trying to level himself with the ground. “Stupid,
useless,…”

“Hey, it’s not Connie’s fault you cannot copy his skill.” Marco snickered and
sat back again, placing a protective arm around your waist. “Give it up, even
if you figure it out, you won’t have enough time for practice before the final
exams.”

“Yeah, come down, Jean.” you beckoned with your hand, “You already have a score
most can only dream of in the maneuver category. I doubt this will make any
difference. Besides, it should be Marco, not you, up there practicing.”

Marco’s head spun towards you in dismay, “What?”

“Well just think about it, maybe if you put additional effort in honing your
fighting skills, the superiority you have over Jean in team-work section might
be enough to put you ahead on the final listing. There is still time…” you
shrugged innocently, barely keeping your face straight.

“What!?” it was Jean’s turn to sound dismayed.

Marco looked at you in disbelief for a moment longer before realization crept
up on him and edges of his lips curved upwards.

“Now that you put it like that…” he said aloud, pretending to seriously
consider the notion.

“Oi, are you two ganging up on me?” Jean’s tone was a mixture of frustration,
bravado and badly masked insecurity. ”Marco, I thought you said you didn’t care
about ranking as long as you were in the top ten! Do I now have to watch my
back, too?!”

Marco and you snickered together and, in leaning in to one another, his lips
caught yours. The intensity behind his kiss took you by surprise, stealing your
breath. He definitely didn’t need any practice in this category.

“Ohh, I have been holding myself back from doing this for too long.” he
breathed, barely audible, when you separated. ”Do you know how hard it is to
see you every day, train with you, eat with you and not be allowed to…” instead
of telling you, his lips showed what he meant, sliding his tongue between your
teeth and pushing his way through, slowly but irresistibly, until you gave in,
embracing him. The width of his shoulders, the undercut on his neck and his
warm skin felt so good under your fingers.

“Oi!” this time, there was a more unnerved edge in Jean’s voice, “Are you
starting without me? Wait up!”

The sound of reeling wires and cracking of undergrowth under Jean’s weight
filled the night as a background noise for Marco’s caresses of your face and
hair, gentle and tender like he was removing delicate spider webs with his
fingertips, careful not to tear them. The purposeful footfalls approached,
fighting through the thick vegetation, but not before Marco managed to steal
another long kiss from you.

When Jean flung himself down heavily next to you, he had already removed the 3D
maneuver gear and tossed it along the way, putting the training attempts out of
his mind. You defiantly swung one leg to the other side of the tree trunk,
facing him with a protruding chin and his calloused palms snatched forward and
cupped your jaw line. He took a moment to look at you, the narrow eyes
wolfishly sweeping across your face with an unreadable expression until they
stopped their focus on your mouth. He visibly held himself back.

“Why do you always make me wait and then run after you?” Jean’s voice was stern
on the surface, but wounded in reality. It was his infantile way of showing
that he cared.

“Aren’t you a hunter?” you replied in a taunting tone, looking him straight in
the eye, feeling Marco behind you tense. You knew he disliked your and Jean’s
harmless little power games. Despite himself, a corner of Jean’s mouth lifted
in a smirk that became a smile and he finally leaned in to kiss you. So
different from Marco’s lips, his were hasty and demanding, his breath still
panting from the physical exertion.

“Then I have caught you.” he breathed through bared teeth while gently biting
your lower lip. “And I will have you.”

Marco shuffled, straddling the tree trunk and leaning against you, his hands
sliding underneath your shirt to cup your breasts. You could hear his sigh of
surprised delight when he discovered there was no bandaging you usually wore.
He pressed his chest against your back, nuzzling the nape of your neck.
“Remember when we went horseback riding like this?” he whispered in your ear,
pulling you in even closer as the memory triggered a pleasant stirring in him,
and you could only nod because your mouth was busy with Jean’s dancing tongue.
The memory had a bittersweet aftertaste because you couldn’t help wondering if
you’ll ever get the chance to repeat the experience.

Meanwhile, Jean’s fingers blindly fumbled with buttons on your shirt, undoing
them slowly one by one. As the fabric started sliding down your shoulders,
Marco’s lips found new playground for his kisses, showering your exposed skin
with feather-like pecks. When the sleeves were the only thing holding your
shirt on your body, Jean’s head sank and his fingers gently pried open Marco’s
grip upon your breasts.

“I want to see them.” Jean muttered from deep in his throat. Reluctantly,
Marco’s fingers gave way and he moved away while Jean gently sucked on your
nipples and tested the softness of your flesh with his palms. When Marco’s
belly and chest pressed up against your bare back again, it was skin against
skin, and you gasped in a surge of delight. Your hands reached ahead, grabbed
the fabric of Jean’s shirt and indicated you wanted it taken off. He
impatiently reached with his hand behind his head, grabbed the collar and
pulled the sweat drenched shirt off his body in one fluid movement, tossing it
carelessly on the forest soil and focusing his attention on caressing your
bosom again. Your fingers fanned across his broad chest, wiping away pellets of
sweat and tracing curvature of muscles, enjoying in smoothness of the skin
beneath.

“Hey Jean,” Marco’s breath was hot and titillating along your neck. There was
more than just his breath pricking you from behind, the desire in him bulging
his pants. “I want to tell her.”

“What, now?” a tinge of frustration surged in Jean’s question then a low grunt
escaped his throat as your nails slid down his bare back and up again, leaving
burning red marks across the sweat covered skin. He liked it a bit rougher and,
although he would never admit it, he always moaned loudest when there was a bit
of pain mixed in with pleasure.

“Tell me what?” you broke off the kiss, your own voice was husky and detached
like you have been woken from sleep.

“Gee, Marco, you really know how to pick the time…” Jean grumbled and pulled
back, wiping a palm over his flustered face to clear his mind. “Well, go
ahead.”

Marco crossed his hands on your chest, covering the bareness of your breasts
and your chastity with his warm palms, and playfully nested his chin between
your neck and shoulder. “You know what is happening after the graduation?”

You felt your heart sink, the mood for lovemaking seeping out of your body. “We
all know. Military police for you two, maintenance of order in some backwater
district for me. Or the Survey corps.” your shoulders rose and fell in a
defeated shrug. Jean observed you attentively, with an amused and inquisitive
expression which suddenly made you exposed and naked under his gaze, cornered
and breathless in Marco’s clutch. Were they toying with you? Helpless tears
swelled in your eyes, “Why bring up a thing like that now?”

Jean leaned in and lightly tapped you on the nose, “Because you obviously DON’T
know.” Up close, you could see concern in his eyes, defying his nonchalant
tone. His gaze shifted behind you and he frowned, “Marco, you are an idiot. Is
that a way to break the news? You,“ his eyes locked with yours, “are going with
us.”

“But how…?” the lump was still in your throat, despair giving way to equally
unbearable disbelief. “My score…”

“Simple.” Jean’s thumb wiped away a tear from the corner of your eyelid without
breaking the eye contact with you, “You will go as mine or Marco’s fiancée.”

“We have already checked.” Marco elaborated smilingly, rocking you joyfully in
his arms, “If a soldier is bringing a spouse or a betrothed, they are also
granted citizenship of the Inner district. Hey,” Marco’s voice was close and
intimate in your ear as his embrace around you tightened, “did you really think
we would deploy to Sina without you?”

“Yeah…” you whispered and tears of relief started rolling down your cheeks,
unstoppable and scalding. “I thought I was going to get left behind.”

“Marco, just shut the hell up already!”, Jean was now using both palms to wipe
the racing trickles away, his voice a mixture of anger and solicitude, “You are
not getting randomly dispatched, do you hear?!” His glare was hard, unswerving
and somewhat scary, “For all I know, you could end up in the friggin Suicide
corps and I’ll be damned if I let you become titan food!”

You emphatically nodded, pressing your lips into a tight line to keep your chin
from trembling. Marco half turned your body to face him, a deep concern
twisting his features.

“You really thought…?” his voice was sad, barely a whisper. “I never…”

“I knew my score was nowhere near the top ten,” you said weakly, connecting
with his dark, expressive eyes, “so I just assumed…”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Marco shook you lightly, snugging you
comfortingly to his chest. “I had no idea this was troubling you to tears.”

“She couldn’t because she would have shown a weakness, right?” Jean’s matter-
of-fact voice made you both turn to his direction. “Right?” he repeated more
softly and reached out a hand to tenderly stroke your cheek. There was a
warming shine to his eyes. “A soldier has her pride.”

Marco sighed at Jean “Do you have to make everything sound so dramatic?”, then
apologetically whispered in your ear “I should have known. I am sorry for
making you cry.”

You closed your eyes, shook your head dismissively and gave a heavy, relieved
sigh, relishing in Marco’s tight embrace and Jean’s comforting palm on your
skin. Then you smiled and put a hand on each boy’s head, pulling them closer to
yours until Marco’s rested on the nape of your neck and Jean’s pressed against
your forehead, “I love you both so much!”

“We’ll start getting the papers ready tomorrow so we are good to go after the
ceremony.” Jean’s sober voice brought you back to reality a few seconds later
as he pulled away, “You just have to say who will it be with, Marco or me?”

You started to say something, then closed your mouth. By the anticipating look
in Jean’s eyes you could tell there was more to the question than it initially
seemed, no matter how deceptively nonchalant he sounded. You knew the issue
would come up some day. To confirm your suspicion, tense silence from Marco was
suddenly like a burden on your back, heavy with meaning.

“Aren’t we all going to the same place?” you asked carefully.

“Yes, but somebody’s name has to be next to yours on that paper tomorrow and
somebody will share a room with you in the Inner district.” Jean voice was flat
and businesslike but his eyes betrayed him. You could feel Marco’s hands moving
away from you and you didn’t have to turn around to see a similar expression on
his face.

“Maybe we can do this later…” Marco offered, unconvincingly. His tone betrayed
the underlying curiosity and anticipation.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” your voice was stern and hard as you stood up
and faced them with your hands crossed over your chest, “I will not choose
between you two.”

“We didn’t ask you to choose…” Marco’s hands were defensively up and even in
the moonlight you saw his cheeks redden. He was a lousy liar.

“I know what you asked me. Don’t ask that ever again.” you said dryly, eyeing
Marco whose voice betrayed him and Jean who sourly looked away. “As for the
question about the papers,” you continued, “I don’t care. We can toss a coin or
something.”

“Toss a coin?!” both youths looked at you incredulously and you had to fight a
smile that budded on your face. Then you made a step towards them and placed a
hand on a cheek of each of them, tracing their eyebrows with your thumbs. They
both looked up at you, Jean with his piercing and defiant glare, Marco with his
remorseful, deep eyes, their shirtless bodies beneath you finely muscled and
glistening in the moonlight and you felt a surge of desire flow through your
belly.

“We are wasting time.” you reminded them coquettishly.

Marco’s head turned to place a kiss on your fingers. “You are right.” He stood
up, kissing you up the arm, then licking your collarbone and nibbling at your
neck. Your fingers undid and dropped his pants, while Jean got down to his
knees and did the same to you. Jean’s hands voraciously traced up and down your
thighs, getting the blood flowing through your loins, before his fingers
strayed between your lower lips into the moist softness.

You quietly moaned, squeezing Marco’s shaft, making him catch his breath.
Jean’s fingers worked their way in gently, his caresses leaving you wanting for
more, making your hips sway towards him. He kissed the tender flesh beneath
your navel, tickling you with his soft stubble, driving you crazy with his
lingering lips. When his fingers finally spread your flesh to make way for his
tongue, you groaned loudly, surprising even yourself. He played with you,
sucked and nibbled while you tugged at Marco’s penis, kissing its owner
hungrily. It only made the bulge on Jean’s pants bigger and, when he couldn’t
take the pressure anymore, he reached inside his pants with his other hand,
stroking himself to relieve the built-up tension.

Leaning against Marco for balance, you moved Jean’s hand away from his crotch
with one foot. “Let me do that for you.” you whispered.

Jean obediently undressed while you sat on the log, your legs spread wide, and
called Marco to continue where Jean had left off. Marco readily went down to
his knees and elbows, burying his tongue between slippery folds of your flesh
as far as it went. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation for a moment,
and then took Jean’s cock inside your mouth.

Jean shuddered when you sucked on it hard, sliding your hands over his rippled
stomach, his fingers tangled with your locks, his head thrown back, mouth half-
open and teeth exposed, giving himself completely in. You played with him
slowly, picking up the pace, then slowing it down again, bringing him to the
edge of release and then stopping altogether, just to start off again. You
could tell by tenseness of his body and rhythm of his breathing he was readying
himself again and again for the elusive climax.

“If you don’t do something about this right now,” he finally said in a
strained, cracked voice, “I swear I am going to take care of it myself.”

You smirked and stood up, ruffling Marco’s hair to let him know you appreciated
his effort, turned around and bent over with your palms pressed against the
log. You wriggled your bottom playfully, ready and wanting, craning your neck
to see Jean’s face. He put his hands on your hips and slid effortlessly in,
giving out a gasp of pleasure. Moving in and out, you rocked together making
wet slapping sounds, sending tingles of delight coursing through your bodies.
Jean started out tentatively but soon began to pick up pace, stopping himself
in mid-thrust whenever he came too close. He didn’t want this to end too soon,
but his body and his preference for a relentless tempo were ready to betray
him.

Marco sat on the log in front of you, kissing your forehead. “Do you think you
could also…?” he indicated towards his prancing penis almost shyly and you
chuckled.

“I am not making any promises.” you said as you licked his shaft. Your mouth
and tongue worked at it the best they could, but Jean’s erratic rhythm made any
serious effort impossible. When he halted once more, literally shuddering with
effort to stop himself from cumming and teetering on the brink of release, you
mischievously reached back between your legs and found his balls, massaging
them gently.

“Oh no, not that, stop! I’m going to… ahh… I am cu…” he suddenly moaned and
arched above you, his fingers digging into your sides. Spasms of his body
travelled through yours, you could feel his powerful thigh muscles tremble in
an unstoppable surge of pleasure.

“When you… touched me…” Jean panted from somewhere above you, too fatigued to
move away, “You made me blow like a cannon. I just couldn’t stop myself…”

“You should have jerked off before instead of holding back.” Marco laughed,
getting up, “Maybe you wouldn’t be so short-tempered if you did it more often.”

“Fuck you… Marco…” Jean shot at him, but there was no edge to his words. He
moved away, stumbling, and half-sat, half-lied on the fallen tree. Spent and
relaxing, his body looked like a sculpture of white marble.

“I intend to.” Marco snickered and looked at you with feral lust, the look he
seldom wore that made your knees weak. He was fully erect and throbbing, wet
from your saliva. He kissed you and leaned you against the trunk of a nearby
tree, hitching your leg up and around his waist. You hooked the leg around his
hip, pulling your loins together, rubbing wet skin against skin. His weight
leaning on you, the firmness of his body, twisting of muscles in his arms and
back called for your hands to touch, touch everywhere, explore, claim, conquer
and take everything on their way. The pulsating of his penis against your soft
belly made you mad with yearning to have it inside, but it seemed his need was
even more urgent.

“Ahh, let me in…” he gasped in your neck, half-pleadingly, half-demandingly,
his fingers feverishly digging into your buttocks, lifting you off the ground
and closer to him. “I want you so bad… I have to have you…”

You shifted and felt his blunt, rounded tip press against your clitoris, making
you both gasp. But you didn’t let him in just yet. Instead, you gyrated your
hips and massaged your soft spots with his hardness, sliding his penis against
your smooth, sticky flesh. Then, with a sudden thrust, you let his cock
penetrate deep inside, making Marco frown from intensity of it and sharply suck
the air in between his teeth. Pressing your back against the tree, your other
leg entwined around his waist and your hands around his shoulders, giving you a
better control of your movements. By pumping up and down, he slid inside and
out, his hands supporting your buttocks, the expression of painful
concentration twisting his brow above the closed eyelids.

“If you want me to last.” after awhile, he looked you soberly in the eye, his
chest heaving, “Don’t do this to me. I am already on the edge.”

“Should I give you the same advice you gave Jean?” you smiled, wiping the sweat
off your face.

“You are cruel.” Marco smiled back, drowning you in his gentle eyes. The
freckles scattered across his cheeks and nose stood out on his pale skin like
starry skies and you started kissing them, slowly and gently, giving him time
to recuperate. Soon, his hips started moving again and you found it difficult
to concentrate on doing anything but attuning movements of your body to the
waves of pleasure he stirred inside you.

Jean stepped up from behind and put his hand on Marco’s shoulder. They eyes met
for a second and, without a word, Marco turned around with you in his arms,
still inside you. When his back was leaning against the tree, Jean pressed his
belly against your spine, embracing your naked body with his big arms. Your
head leaned back to rest on his shoulder and he managed to give you an awkward
kiss while helping Marco hold and lift your body.

With your hands free, you let your fingers slide down Marco’s puffed up chest
and neck, slick back his dark bangs, then reach behind you and dig into Jean’s
unruly tresses. Your bodies soon caught a common rhythm, swaying back and
forth, up and down. The friction of your skin rubbing against theirs, your
scent mixing with their sharp, male sweat, you being touched by their trained
and toned bodies pulled you deeper into oblivion where nothing but pleasure
existed. Jean fondled with your breasts and nibbled at your neck while Marco
flexed and relaxed bulging muscles of his arms and chest, balancing yours and
his pleasure. You closed your eyes and let your hips move on their own,
instinctively bringing you closer to the climax.

“Come on baby,” Marco’s voice was a lustful whisper, oil to the fire within
you. “We’re almost there.”

You peeked at the face before you and his expression - hot, panting and utterly
on the edge of explosion - was just too much.  A yelp of pleasure escaped your
lips as you came, pressing your cheek against Jean’s, jerking and twitching in
their arms.

“Ngghh!” Marco’s moan was louder and deeper, a grasp of his fingers on your
buttocks almost painful. You brushed your fingertips across his erect nipples
and kissed his neck, while he rested his head on the tree behind him,
struggling to catch his breath.

“That was nice.” you turned to Jean and his lips locked with yours as on cue.
By the way his tongue sought out yours you could tell he was hungry again.

You sat down on your scattered clothes, leaning against the fallen tree,
enjoying the relaxation that surged through your body.

“You know,” you said lazily, watching your lovers slowly pick up their clothes,
sliding your eyes across their lean bodies and long limbs in motion, “I have
thought of the way to pick my fiancé.”

They both stopped, giving you quizzical looks.

“What are your scores in hand-to-hand combat?” you asked, swinging a finger
between them.

“Equal.” Marco replied, uncertain what were you getting at.

“Officially.” you said, “But I will choose the one between you two who wins in
a hand-to-hand fight tonight.”

“Sounds fair enough.” Jean said after a moment of deliberation and Marco
concurred with a silent nod. The young soldiers let the pieces of clothes drop
from their hands as they started to eye each other warily, rekindling the old
rivalry. Marco had more muscle on him and a wider range, but Jean was faster
and nimbler. They instinctively tensed their shoulders and spread their legs,
shaking off traces of postcoital drowsiness.

“Dammit.” Jean wiped his mouth with a back of his hand without taking his eyes
off Marco. “We should have done this before we had sex.”

Marco grinned agreeably, slowly raising and flexing his fists, “But if we had,
there would have probably been no sex at all afterwards.” He seemed relaxed and
good-humored, but a vigilant shine in his eyes told a different story.

“Yeah, probably.” Jean chuckled in one moment and in second lunged forward,
trying to throw his opponent off balance. Marco stepped aside, barely avoiding
Jean’s grappling attempt and spinning around to get a grip on Jean’s exposed
neck.

You sat back and enjoyed the spectacle with a faint smile on your face,
uninterested in the outcome. Whichever way it went, you couldn’t lose.

THE END


But who won??
 
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