Chapter Text
It was one o’clock in the fucking morning and all Jean wanted to do was go home.
The diner was pretty much empty now, just Jean manning the cash register and Connie snoring in the kitchen. He was supposed to be cooking, but there hadn’t been a customer in over an hour. Jean would join him, if he didn’t know that all the security cameras were pointed at the bar and dining areas. His boss, Levi, would immediately know that he had taken a little nap and would not hesitate to fire Jean’s broke ass.
So Jean contented himself with scribbling words onto a semi-clean napkin and tapping out rhythms with his chewed up pen. He may hate having the night shift at Trost Diner, but Jean had to admit the time he had to write for classes while getting paid was fucking fantastic. Maybe he was a little sleep deprived and starved, but hell at least he turned his homework in and paid the rent.
The bell on the door jingled, shocking Jean out of the poem he was in the middle of composing. He had meant to take the bell off weeks ago, it was March after all and jingle bells didn’t belong in March in Jean’s book.
He sighed long and hard before looking up with a fake smile plastered on his face to welcome the newcomer.
And he almost choked on his spit.
The cutest piece of ass had just walked into Trost Diner. Tan skin was dusted with freckles, which made Jean mad because it was fucking March for Christ’s sake. From what he could see the boy was college age, so Jean figured probably a junior judging by height and level of exhaustion radiating from him.
The CPA looked around the empty diner as if looking for someone, but his eyes fell on Jean leaning on the counter dumbstruck, and he smiled. And it was the best, brightest fucking smile Jean had ever seen, and the kid had probably not slept since two nights ago. Naturally Jean hated him.
The freckled stranger kept his smile on as he made his way over to Jean, who didn’t struggle as much as he wished to keep his smile. The kid was contagious.
“Hi. What can I help you with?” If it came out really snippy Jean blamed the late, or early, hour.
“Hmm, can I have a hot chocolate?” The boy’s voice was soft, matching the way his eyes seemed to glow. This order took Jean aback.
“It’s one in the fucking morning and you want a hot cocoa?”
The stranger’s dark brown eyes grew wide, showing his surprise at Jean’s retort, but within seconds he was laughing uncontrollably. Jean was pissed that he was laughing at him. Maybe he was a little happy because his laugh was angelic, fitting him perfectly. But mostly Jean was pissed.
“Yes, with whipped cream please.” He tilted his head now, shooting Jean an even more dazzling smile. Jean grumbled a yes and went off to the kitchen.
Hot chocolate wasn’t hard, so he didn’t bother waking up Connie. The mix the diner used was actually Jean’s recipe that he got from his mother. After Levi hired him Jean begged Levi to let him switch the hot cocoa mix out for his personal one because frankly the kind they were using was shit. Levi finally relented and Jean’s hot cocoa was put on the menu and became an instant hit. But Jean didn’t like to take the credit for it; cooking was sissy shit.
There was a thermos of steaming hot water already made up in the back, so all Jean did was pour it over the perfect amount of mix and add a dollop of homemade whipped cream, courtesy of Jean too. Homemade was so much better than storebought shit.
He threw a quick glance Connie’s way, where the short boy was draped across a table, and contemplated pouring some water on him. Jean thought about the ruckus he would make and thought better of it, not wanting the freckled boy to call the cops on him.
Jean walked back into the serving area to find the CPA sitting at the bar with the inked up napkin in his hands. Panic coursed through Jean’s body.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He all but screamed. Jean slammed the mug down, remembering faintly not to spill it, and lunged to take the napkin from the boy. His eyes were wide this time from fear, but Jean hardlyfelt bad about it. Instead he focused on calming himself, taking deep breaths to steady his wildly beating heart.
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was yours. It-it was just sitting there I swear!” He stuttered out.
Jean sighed.
“Whatever. It’s just school work that I’ve been having trouble with. Enjoy your cocoa.” Jean tried to turn away and start cleaning tables on the far side of the diner, but the stranger kept the conversation flowing.
“What are you going into, poetry? Do you go to college here in town?”
“Not poetry exactly: creative writing." Jean hated telling people that because he knew that they judged him. How are you going to make a living? They always ask. However I damn well please, was Jean’s usual answer. But the CPA didn’t react that way, he just nodded like he understood and was truly interested, so Jean continued. "I go to the Uni, and for my degree I have to take basically every type of writing ever invented."
The boy chuckled before questioning Jean again. They talked for a long time, Jean opening up more and more with every question. No one had ever quite gotten to him the way the stranger did. Jean found himself forgetting about what time it was and all his worries, instead focusing on the wonder sitting in front of him. The boy hadn’t even taken a drink out of his hot chocolate because he was so invested in Jean’s words; Jean felt like he was walking on fucking air.
When he finally did take a sip of the now chilly drink his eyes grew wide again; Jean realized by now that it was a common reaction for him. He looked down at the mug then back up at Jean, repeating several times before taking a huge gulp.
“Holy shit this is amazing! They were totally right, wow.” It was the first time Jean heard him swear all night, and it was made even more innocent by the whipped cream mustache that now rested on his face. Without thinking Jean wiped it away with a stray napkin, but he found his hand lingering and his eyes staring at the boy’s red lips. He drew away quickly and awkwardly, not missing the way the boy licked his lips.
“Who is they?” Jean asked.
“Oh my friend from Uni, Armin.”
“You’re friends with Arlert?” Jean couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice, but frankly he didn’t even try.
“Well yeah. Why?” The boy suddenly seemed unsure of himself, shifting in his chair.
“I just pictured you in more of the cool crowd, but I can see you as a nerd now that I think of it,” Jean teased, leaning on the counter directly in front of the boy and pretending to look him over.
“Hey!” He shouted back, blushing profusely.
“It’s not an insult. Arlert’s pretty nice, now why he chooses to hang out with that dick Jaeger is beyond me.”
The two lapsed back into comfortable silence, Connie’s snores the only noise until a buzz startled the boys. The freckled boy scrambled for his phone, quickly reading over a text and sending out a reply. He looked back up at Jean with a hint of sadness in his eyes.
“Armin’s worried about me, he doesn’t quite like it when I go out on my own before seven in the morning. Even then he hates it.” He chuckled softly as if it was some sort of joke, and stood up, scratching the back of his neck. “Thank you, um?”
“Jean.”
“Well, thank you Jean for the heavenly hot chocolate. How much do I owe you?”
“It’s on the house, man.”
“It’s Marco, and thanks. I’ll pay you back someday.” The freckled boy gave Jean one last brilliant smile before walking out into the dark street. Jean glanced at his watch to see it was now three; he just wasted two hours talking to the stranger.
“I’m sure you will Marco. I’m sure you will.”