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“It’s lovely to meet you, Marco! I had a look at your predicted grades from your old school, I think with enough hard work you’ll get through the rest of this year just fine. Now, whereabouts can we sit you?”
Miss Ral’s words attracted Jean’s attention. He raised his head from his algebra questions to find the new kid just a few feet in front of him. Marco, he thought, what a fucking pretentious name.
“Ah, perfect – go and pop your stuff next to Jean there at the front. We’re just going over quadratic equations today, it should be a breeze. Exercise 7D, questions 3 – 6. Any enquiries, I’m sure Jean will be happy to help.”
Like hell I will.
Jean hunched further over his exercise book, trying to immerse himself in numbers like he usually could. He refused to look up as Marco put his bag on the floor. He refused to look up as he sat down in the chair next to him that had remained blissfully empty throughout the year so far. He absolutely refused to reply when he starting trying to make conversation.
“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name – John, was it?”
“Uh, no – Jean. It’s French.” Crap, he thought, what happened to not talking to him? Now he’s going to expect a full conversation and I’ve made myself sound like a pompous twat.
“Oh… Cool!” He sounded so irritatingly happy that Jean was certain he was putting it on. There was nothing Jean hated more than people who tried to be nice to him, so he just bent over his work again.
He felt Marco stare at him for a few seconds before he realised the conversation was over. He pulled out his own exercise book and opened it, smoothing out the spine with his long fingers.
“What exercise are we doing, then?” His words were cheerful but hesitant, as if he already knew Jean was going to deflect his efforts at conversation.
“Miss Ral already told you. It’s on the board.”
“Oh… Oh yeah. Um, could I borrow a pen?” Marco asked sheepishly, “I forgot to put one in my pocket this morning.”
“No. I don’t have a spare,” Jean lied.
“Oh, okay,” he said, clearly disappointed, before turning to the people sitting behind them to borrow one instead.
Jean felt a stab of guilt; Marco seemed genuine, like he was honestly trying to get past Jean’s steely exterior, but he didn’t do new people and certainly wasn’t going to start now.
He returned to his work, determined not to say another word for the rest of the lesson.
To his relief, Marco eventually stopped trying.
*****
The week passed by as normal. He went to school, sat with Sasha and Connie at lunch, went home, did whatever homework he deemed worthy of his attention and played video games for as long as he could get away with.
Each maths lesson, he sat next to Marco in silence. Every now and then, his new partner would turn to converse with other people in the class – he had already made a lot of friends, not at all to Jean’s surprise – but mostly he sat and struggled slowly through the work. Marco clearly found maths a lot more difficult than Jean, who had a remarkable natural talent for the subject, and he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He knew he could help but didn’t know how to do so without leaving his comfort zone entirely, and he didn’t want to give Marco the impression that he wanted a friendship of any kind.
So Jean continued as he had begun, stealing occasional glances at Marco out of the corner of his eye. As the material became more difficult, he could see the boy getting increasingly out of his depth and the pity slowly begun to wear down his resolve. It took several weeks, over a month, before he gave in, but one Tuesday afternoon he just couldn’t take it any longer.
“You forgot to switch the inequality.”
Marco’s head shot up and he stared at Jean, mouth slack for several seconds before regaining his composure enough to reply. “Uh… What?”
“When you divide through by a negative, you have to reverse the inequality.”
“Oh yeah! Thanks.” His face broke out into a nauseatingly happy grin as he stared at Jean, who couldn’t help but smile back, just a little. It was mildly infuriating.
They didn’t speak for the rest of the lesson, but it was like a barrier had been broken. The next day, Marco plucked up the courage to ask a question about the trig work, and the following week Jean pointed out another error regarding his answer for a factor theorem question. It wasn’t long before they were holding actual conversations – conversations about the work, usually, but conversations nonetheless. And, much to his surprise, Jean found that he in fact enjoyed Marco’s company, in a way that he hadn’t enjoyed another person’s in years. Maths lessons became something he looked forward to because he was able to relax for once, if only for an hour at a time. A part of him even wished they could form an actual friendship, but Jean didn’t trust that easily.
One lunch, Marco pushed the boundaries further. Jean was sitting with Sasha and Connie as always, shovelling down a plate of chips as they held hands and chattered happily opposite him, injecting a snarky remark at them wherever he deemed necessary.
“Jean?”
Jean’s head snapped around at the sound of Marco’s voice. The boy stood at the edge of their table, various lunch items clutched in his hands as he nervously glanced at Sasha and Connie. Why is he talking to me now?
“Uh, y-yeah?” he stuttered.
“Do you mind if I sit with you today?”
He’d had never really heard Marco sound anxious before and found it… Endearing. So much so that Jean had lost the ability to form words and sat frowning at him, mouth full of chips.
“You’re the boy who came here a couple of months ago, right? Marco?” Connie interrupted, prompting Jean to inwardly sigh with relief. He’d never been so happy to hear that idiot open his mouth.
“Uh, yeah!” Marco replied and relaxed a little, smiling like he always did, like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing.
“Ooh, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for ages!” Sasha grinned, “I’m Sasha, this is Connie. Move over, Jean, let him sit down!”
Jean awkwardly shifted over to the next chair at their small table for four, and Marco sat down beside him. They sat in such close proximity almost everyday, but it was different in the noisy canteen and Jean was that much more aware of his presence.
“So, Marco, how are you liking this shit hole?” Connie asked.
“I’ve met some really great people so far, and some of the teachers are pretty cool!” he replied, ever optimistic.
Connie snorted. “Clearly you don’t know Jean very well, then.”
Sasha whacked him around the back of the head. “Shut up, Connie. Jean can be nice occasionally. When there’s food involved, anyway.”
“Ha ha,” Jean muttered sarcastically.
“I think Jean’s great! He’s helped me a lot with my maths stuff, I don’t know what I would’ve done without him this past month or so.” Marco beamed.
“Has he now?” Sasha asked, wiggling her eyebrows. Unable to control the blush that spread across his cheeks, Jean kicked her under the table, none too gently.
That lunchtime proceeded much as it had started, Connie and Sasha talking comfortably to each other, and to Marco, who was handling their very upfront natures incredibly well.
Jean was surprised to discover that talking to Marco outside of lessons was just as easy, if not easier. But that day had just made things even more confusing for him; he was now unquestionably certain that he was attracted to Marco, in a way that he just couldn’t ignore.
Jean had known he was gay for a while, but he’d never been in a relationship with anyone. He’d come out to Sasha and Connie the previous year, never finding a reason to tell anyone else seeing as he avoided talking to most of the other students wherever possible. But now that he’d accepted he liked Marco, he had no idea what to do next. Although he wasn’t sure Marco was gay, that lunchtime had shown him that Marco felt at least something towards him. Now, he could see the subtle yet obvious differences in the way he acted – smiling brighter at only Jean, inching closer to him almost subconsciously, the light red that seeped across his cheeks when he stared at him for too long. Jean knew fuck all about relationships, but he felt close to him in a way that was utterly foreign yet welcome.
Before long, Jean could think of little else other than the cute freckled boy that had taken his world by storm.
*****
Jean grinned as he stared at the number 96 scribbled on the front of his paper, an A* and the word ‘excellent!’ written next to it. It wasn’t like he’d expected anything else.
He turned to Marco to boast, stopping in his tracks when he noticed the boy’s disappointed expression. The E on his paper stared up at Jean and he felt a bizarre annoyance towards that letter for ripping the smile from Marco’s face.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Marco sighed.
Jean wasn’t convinced. In anticipation of what he was about to do, he took a deep breath.
“Come round mine after school tomorrow if you want. I’ll help you out.”
Marco’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to–”
“Shut the fuck up. I want to. Deal?”
“Deal,” Marco said after a beat of hesitation, face lighting up once more.
Jean smiled back in the honest, easy way that very few people could bring out of him.
*****
“So the angle at the top’s double the one in the centre here, and the one at the circumference is a right angle?”
“Yeah, you’ve got that shit now,” Jean grinned, grabbing the paper from the floor between them. “I’ll just do some practice questions for you, give me 2 minutes.”
As Jean scribbled, he felt Marco’s eyes on him and a slow blush spread across his cheeks. He was certain he spent at least half of his time with Marco resembling a lobster-beetroot hybrid. Not that he minded; whenever those warm brown eyes were fixed on him, Jean liked the feeling he got in the pit of his stomach far too much.
He slid the paper slowly across the floor between them, clicking the pen shut before he dared to meet his eyes. When he did, there was something guarded in Marco’s expression that differed from his usually kind, open face. Something in the way that his brow furrowed ever so slightly.
Jean swallowed nervously and looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh – try to remember to go through each theorem to see if it applies before giving up.”
He stared at Marco as inconspicuously as possible while he worked, picking up on the little things he did when he was concentrating. He rested the pen on his chin when he paused to frown, fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie when he got stuck, brushed his hair out of his eyes every now and then.
Holy shit, thought Jean, I am turning into one of those pretentious pricks from a fucking teenage drama film.
*****
Their little study sessions continued, sparse but fruitful, over the next few weeks and Marco began to improve. Before long, he needed Jean’s help infrequently but still worked vigorously with him. Jean himself jumped at the opportunity to do so, as it meant spending a few more hours in his company. Marco still spent most lunchtimes with Thomas, Franz and the rest of his friends, but sometimes he’d come over and sit in the seat next to Jean, braving Sasha and Connie’s chatter for half an hour while they sneaked not-so-covert glances at each other. His two friends had picked up on his thing for Marco instantly.
“I’ve not seen you this happy since you ‘accidentally’ broke Eren’s nose when we did rugby in Year 9,” Connie had said when they’d approached him about it. Jean threatened to break his nose too but couldn’t ignore the warmth in his stomach that appeared out of nowhere every time he thought about those freckles.
One week, Jean came down with a minor stomach bugand had to take a couple of days off school, which also meant a couple of days away from Marco. Jean hated those days, spent shut in his room under the duvet; although Marco had offered to visit, Jean turned him down in fear of subjecting him to a similar fate.
By the end of the week, his health began to improve somewhat. Jean spent Friday on the sofa watching shitty daytime television, trying to fall asleep to pass the time. Just as he was nodding off for the third time, someone knocked at the door. He groaned, rolling over on the sofa as he resolved to ignore it.
They knocked again.
And again.
“Jean? Jean, it’s me!”
Jean’s eyes shot open. Marco?
The knock came once more. “Jean! Hey, Jean, I know you’re in there.”
Jean rolled clumsily off the sofa, throwing the blanket on the floor in his haste, and awkwardly stumbled to the door. The instant he opened it, Marco jumped inside and threw himself at Jean, who was almost unbalanced by the sudden shock of weight. He froze, completely overwhelmed by his touch, his scent, the feel of arms – by everything Marco that he’d come to adore over the last few months. After a few seconds he managed to move his arms around Marco to return his hug. Jean tried to take all of the simple action that he could, to memorise every line and curve of his body within reach in case he never got an opportunity quite like this again.
All too soon, Marco pulled away slightly to grip Jean’s forearms, grinning widely. “Jean, I got a B!”
“No way!”
“Yeah! We did another calculator paper on…” Marco’s voice trailed off as he stared at Jean, noticing their proximity.
Jean swallowed nervously, hyperaware of just how close they were. How close their faces were, how close their mouths were... Something in his brain clicked and before he knew what he was doing, he closed the gap.
He felt Marco take a small, shocked breath in when their lips touched and Jean’s stomach dropped with fear that he wouldn’t reciprocate. Nevertheless, he threw everything he had into that kiss, pulling away after a few short seconds when his thoughts caught up with him.
Marco was staring at him, mouth open and Jean looked away as an intense blush spread across his cheeks. He waited for Marco to move back, to turn away, to say something.
“I, uh, sorry, I wasn’t–”
Before Jean could say anything more, Marco kissed him. He kissed him with fervour that exceeded what Jean had ever hoped for and made him weak at the knees. Jean hooked his arms around the slightly taller boy’s neck and kissed him back hungrily as Marco gently pushed him by the hips against the wall. Their kiss was clumsy and awkward but it was theirs, finally something to bring them together after months of waiting and, to Jean, it was perfect.
Hes was so overwhelmed with happiness and nerves that he felt his legs begin to tremble beneath him. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up for much longer, he succumbed to the weight, pulling Marco down to the floor with him and grinning into his lips. Once they were seated, they resumed properly, legs tangled awkwardly and hands in each other’s hair.
After what seemed like an age yet no time at all, they pulled apart and Marco smiled in that open, genuine way of his so that Jean could only grin back, resting their foreheads together. They spent the remainder of the day, as well as many more, in each other’s arms.
*****
A week or so later, Jean and Marco sat at their own table, waiting for Sasha and Connie to arrive. They talked easily about anything as Jean took his boyfriend’s hand, tracing circles with his thumb absent-mindedly.
Eren, living up to his reputation as the world's biggest dick, walked past and wolf whistled mockingly.
“Get in there, Kirstein!”
“Fuck off, Yeager,” he replied, his eyes not leaving Marco’s. Marco just rolled his own and shook his head, smiling.
Jean grinned back. He knew that he would be smiling for a long time if this infuriatingly adorable bastard had anything to do with it.