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Eren's left alone at the booth. The con is winding down, there are only four hours left until the closing ceremonies, so he can’t exactly begrudge Armin and Mikasa one last run around the dealers room to stock up on ramune and hichew on sale. He's bored, has been since Saturday and the initial con rush. He’s brought his sketch book, but he isn’t actually inspired, so he doodles the girl across the lane from him.
There are a couple people still wandering up and down the aisles of artist alley; a gaggle of sweet lolitas, one typical over weight nerd lugging several wall scrolls and a body pillow, and a cosplayer.
It takes Eren a solid minute to grasp the character's name, it’s on the tip of his tongue, and blurts "Emperor Zei!" His voice carries, and everyone pauses. The cosplayer turns to him, blinks a little and his eyes crinkle over the bottom half of his mask. Eren flushes and tries to sink behind his careful arrangement of sample prints while the cosplayer wanders over. "Cool costume." He says, and tries not to sound as meek as he suddenly feels.
The cosplayer peels off the mask and lets it hang on a string around his neck. He's brown skinned and freckled, a friendly smile dimpling his cheeks. "Cool stall. You got a lot of slash art here."
Eren shrugs. "The fangirls eat it right up." He hums in response, takes a peek at the print book where a couple of soft core fan arts are laminated, and another print book for not safe for work things. He picks up one of the business cards Mikasa insisted on, studies the little scrap of art and the pretentious font.
"Jaegerbomb?" He reads with an amused little chuckle. It sounds like honey, light and sunshiney. Eren wrinkles his nose, sore tempted to laugh too, except that he’s afraid he's making fun of him.
"Yeah, dumb thirteen year old deviantart user name. You can call me Eren."
"Eren." He repeats, with a warm smile. Eren's ears go hot and he scrubs his hand through his hair, ruffling it. "I’m Marco." He takes another look at the print book. "Isn’t this the title of a really popular fanfiction?"
"Yep. My friends co authored it. So I drew them a doujinshi of it." He pushes forward a thick little book, fingers brushing Marco’s when they exchange it. "That it, if you wanted to save yourself the trouble of reading it. We split the proceeds three ways."
Marco flips through it, glances over the booth again. His eyes catch something, and he replaces the doujinshi to pull out another thick little book. "What’s this?"
"Nothing too important." Eren tries, hoping to derail Marco's interest. "Just my own little comic, you know?" He flips open the first page, chocolate eyes roving back and forth. Eren wants to melt into a puddle and slither away. Marco stands there, just flipping pages until at last he shuts it, looks at the back and the front covers.
"This looks really interesting. I like the concept and your art is gorgeous. How much?"
Heat and joy wash right through him. He grins, all teeth, and finds Marco smiling like a cherub back. "Ten dollars. And I’ll throw in a pin. Pick one." He rummages under his booth for a bag, slips the comic and Marco's chosen pin into it and smiles. There’s a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Annie’s, saying "grow a pair of tits and flirt with him" so he does. "My emails on that business card, so if you have any questions about the comic, you can always message me." He tries to wink, and the corners of Marco’s mouth twist up.
"I’ll keep that in mind." Eren watches Marco fit his mask back to his mouth and turn to go, barely noticing when Mikasa returns to his side and dumps a handful of pocky boxes in his lap.
"Who was that?" Mikasa asks, following his gaze. Eren doesn’t answer, because that voice that sounds suspiciously like Annie is telling him he’s a fucking idiot. Marco hasn’t wandered off so far, and he grabs a sharpie and another business card and scribbles his number on it. The voice that sounds like Annie asks what’s the worst that could possibly happen?
"Marco!" Eren calls, and Marco turns with a blink while Eren scurries down the aisles at him, and presses the business card into Marcos gloved hand. "Do you wanna maybe...go to the closing ceremony with me?"
Marco slips his mask back off, touching his nose bashfully. "I’m actually waiting for a friend so we can leave." He looks at Eren's number, smiles, and Eren’s chest feels like a balloon, swelling and deflating with Marcos every word and smile. "But I’ll definitely call you. Eren."
Eren grins, feels his ears heat, and Marco smiles back. He makes it two steps before he turns back to Eren, pulling the comic out of his bag. "What do you say to signing this for me? Then I can tell everyone we went on a date before you’re big and famous." He winks, Eren stutters and nearly fucks up his own signature. He writes "to Marco, one smooth criminal." And then "Saturday, 8pm sharp".