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It was a truth universally acknowledged that anything suggested by Connie and Sasha was going to be a disaster, and yet Marco had gone against his better instincts and agreed to a Mario Kart tournament. The instigators had long since abandoned the game in favour of scrounging food at the diner across the road, but Marco and Jean were hooked, eyes fixed to the screen and fingers moving at superhuman speeds as they manoeuvred their carts around the sharp final bend. Jean launched a particularly accurate green shell, hitting Marco right before the finishing line, taking the first place for himself.
“You fucking bastard. You smug fucking shit. I’m going to fucking strangle you I swear to god.” Anger radiated from Marco, an emotion almost entirely foreign to the freckled man. Jean, however, was still feeling the adrenaline rush from his victory and had no intention of playing the peacemaker.
“You’re just a sore loser. Just because I’m better than you…” He trailed off, seeing Marco’s seething face. Jean was fairly sure their relationship had never been in a worse state as it was now. He was also sure he’d never heard Marco swear like this before.
It was... kind of hot.
“You are NOT better than me. I destroyed your ass at Rainbow Road…”
You can destroy my ass anytime, Jean thought dimly to himself, blocking out Marco’s ranting. There was something incredibly arousing about seeing Marco worked up like this, and Jean had to shift his position to hide how hard he'd become.
“You’re not even fucking listening to me. Jean?” Marco snapped his fingers in Jean’s face. “Jean! I’m going to kick your fucking ass do you fucking hear me?”
Jean finally pulled his focus back to the situation on hand, jabbing a finger into Marco’s stomach in retaliation.
“Try me.”
And with those two words, Jean had completely and utterly fucked himself. Marco launched himself at him, his controller flying off into some dark crevice in the sofa, and his fists flying towards Jean’s nose. Jean easily blocked the punches and tackled Marco, pushing them to the ground, both men trying to gain dominance over the other.
Marco successfully managed to pin Jean to the ground, and looked smug about it for a whole two seconds before Jean wrapped his legs around Marco’s back and flipped them over, reversing their positions. They stayed there, both breathing heavily. Marco looked up at Jean, eyes full of contempt, but there was definitely something else that burned beneath the surface.
Jean gazed appreciatively down at his partner, committing to memory the blush that had spread across the freckled face, how his breaths came out in pants and how his pupils were the size of the moon, and the pure passion that oozed from his every feature, sending Jean’s blood running south.
Neither could tell who made the first move, but one second Jean had Marco pressed down on the floor, and the next was a flurry of hands tugging on hair and lips pressing messily against skin, lust replacing the anger they had felt just moments before. Marco practically whimpered as Jean attacked his neck, sucking bruises down to his collarbone. Eventually he pulled back, admiring his handiwork, placing a surprisingly tender hand to his boyfriend’s cheek.
“Do you wanna maybe… take this to the bedroom?”
“Fuck yeah,” was Marco’s enthusiastic reply.