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The sun has long since made sleeping impossible in Jean's tiny bedroom when he feels Marco fidgeting under the blankets beside him. He pulls them up over both of their heads and presses their still naked bodies together, sighing contentedly. Marco pokes at his side and tries to wiggle his way out of the blanket fort, with no success.
"Leaving already?" Jean grins, scooting down the bed to lie face to face with him. He threads his fingers into messy dark hair and nips at Marco's ear lobe. "Where's the fire?"
"Mmm, gotta - quit it, Jean - I gotta get up for class." Marco pushes at his chest but ends up just digging his fingers into Jean's shoulders as he's assaulted by teeth dragging across the skin of his neck. "Seriously, Jean. At this rate I'm gonna be late."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, college boy. Wake me up with sex and then run off to class and leave me all alone." He pouts and bats his eyes and Marco laughs so hard he snorts into the back of his hand.
"Should probably put some underwear on first." He tugs his discarded boxers from between Jean's sheets, stands and shimmies into them. "And I'm pretty sure I wasn't the one who woke someone up at the crack of dawn on a school day." Jean reaches out and runs a hand up the back of his leg absently.
"You loved it. So speaking of school, you coming back here after your class this morning?"
Marco grabs his shirt off the bed post and shakes his head. "Can't. I've already got lunch plans today. And finals are next week, so I'll probably just hole up at home with my books afterward."
Jean props himself up onto his elbows and watches Marco pull his shirt on, waiting to speak until Marco's face isn't covered by fabric. "You're going to lunch with someone?"
"Yeah" Marco says simply. Jean swallows.
"Is it... like, a date?"
Marco shrugs. "Not necessarily..." is all he offers as a response, and Jean feels like he's been kicked in the chest. They've never talked about being a couple, but they're definitely a thing, or at least Jean had kind of thought they were. Thinking of someone else enjoying Marco's laugh the way he does makes his chest feel tighter, and he knows Marco notices the way that he glares across the room at nothing in particular.
"Jean?"
He glances back to see Marco sitting at the edge of his bed, arms crossed and head cocked to one side. "You okay?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. Jean nods.
"That's cool. I mean, that it's um - not a date, or whatever - you know. Because I... I was thinking that it would uh, be kinda lame if you went on a date. With someone else."
"Very eloquently put, Jean." Marco giggles and it's the most adorable fucking thing Jean's ever heard, and if he wasn't so flustered, he'd probably kiss the little smirk right off his face. He kicks him in the leg instead, and Marco laughs harder.
"Jean you don't have to try to flatter me to get me back in your bed, you know."
"It's not just about the sex, dude. Which is amazing, don't get me wrong. But I want us to... do other stuff, too. I don't just wanna go to shitty house parties and stuff with you; I wanna take you to the movies and dinner and... I wanna be the one who takes you to lunch, ok? I like having you here because I like you. Just you. And I want you to only like me." Jean isn't sure how to ask for exactly what he wants, because words like 'boyfriend' and 'dating' don't even seem to do justice to what he wants with Marco. The way Marco smiles at him when he stops talking and looks up at him catches Jean for a moment, and he just stares, because this guy is so damned gorgeous and he just wants him all to himself without all the damned explanations, but he'll try to come up with those too if it'll keep him around. "I don't just want sex, Marco," he finally manages; "I want all the other stuff that comes with it, too."
"I know, Jean." He's still smiling, and he squeezes Jean's foot softly. "I thought after all this time you would have figured out that I felt the same way, but--"
"So...?"
Before Jean can get an answer, Marco's phone rings. He slips it from his pocket to answer and Jean huffs dramatically, slumping back down onto his bed. Marco starts talking, and it sounds like it might be to one of his sisters. Jean stares at the ceiling and listens idly until something Marco says catches his attention, as well as his breath in his throat.
"I've gotta go for now though, ok? I'm with my boyfriend right now. Yeah, I'll call you tonight. Love you, too."
He ends the call and drops the phone back into his pocket and seems legitimately shocked by the way Jean almost knocks him backward off the bed by sitting up.
"What the hell, Marco? I was trying to - I didn't even get to ask you!"
"And you were probably never going to" Marco teases, and as aggravated as he is, Jean can't stay pissed because Marco is grinning and crawling up the bed to lay beside him and his kisses are somehow even better now that he's Jean's boyfriend.
"You sure you can't ditch your date this afternoon?" Jean growls against his lips, and Marco nips at Jean's jaw before answering.
"I'd rather ditch class, to be honest. But I can't do that this week. And besides, Armin won't--"
"Armin? The blonde kid from - that's who you're going to lunch with? Christ, Marco - you had me worried that I had competition!"
"Maybe I liked seeing you squirm a little bit" Marco grins, and Jean scowls at him.
"So you planned to scare me into asking you out?"
"And it still didn't work" Marco chuckles. Jean bites down on his shoulder until he whines in between each laugh, and then they just lie there for a while, ignoring the fact that Marco is undoubtedly going to be late to class. It's not until that evening, when he's by himself in the bed that still smells like his boyfriend that Jean lets himself laugh too, the way he wants to - out loud and at nothing at all. He drapes an arm across his eyes and smiles into the dark, his phone resting on his chest as he drifts off to sleep, just to be sure he doesn't miss a text from his favorite person.
He never asks Marco about changing his phone background, his Facebook status, any of the things he does after they're official. He doesn't stop to wonder if things will get weird after he blurts out the words "I love you" for the first time in the middle of IHOP one night, or if people will stare at them when he calls Marco 'baby' and holds his hand in front of half their friends at the last party of the semester. Like everything else in his life, he just does it, and only briefly stops to think about how lucky he is that Marco's along for the ride.
--
Over Christmas break he never asks Marco to come stay with him, mostly because he doesn't have to. By the time January rolls around, they're sharing his double bed more often than not, and the bottom drawer of Jean's dresser is entirely filled with Marco's clothes. Things start showing up in Jean's apartment a little at a time - new towels, actual plates, a rug without holes in it - and he never questions them. Like Marco on his tiny couch or poking through his fridge, they become part of his every day. When Marco graduates that spring, no one seems surprised that he drags the rest of his stuff into Jean's apartment as well, least of all Jean.
It's fall again, the nights getting chilly and a little lonely when Marco lands his first real job, working second shift. Jean gets a phone call every night just after eleven, asking about dinner or his day or whatever Marco can think to talk about as he makes the short drive back to their shared apartment. Despite their routine, Jean still sometimes can't wrap his brain around the fact that Marco is his, and on nights like that, he lets those insecurities fall out of his mouth in casual conversation, because Marco is always there to sweep them away before they can take root.
"You coming home tonight?" he asks, as if he has any real doubts. Sometimes he wonders if Marco will ever get tired of answering the same questions over and over, especially since Jean can only seem to ask the kind that don't really matter. But he never does. He laughs into the phone the way he does when he's about to press a kiss to Jean's face, and the sound of it is laced with promises for later as he gives him exactly the answer he's looking for.
"Do you even have to ask?"