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Jean leans forward, legs crossed on the sofa and taking up as much room as he can, focussing intently on another one of his games. Marco finds himself lost trying to keep up with the action, but he enjoys Jean’s company all the same. That is, if he can manage to fit on the same sofa.
“Move over, Jean. You can’t take the whole sofa.” Marco gestures at him to move aside and crosses his arms when Jean doesn’t budge. Once again he’s too caught up in his game to focus on much else. Marco’s surprised he got an answer at all.
Jean wiggles in his seat. Though he doesn’t look away from the screen for a second, he smirks and teases, “Watch me.” He relaxes back against the back of the couch, only annoying Marco more. Jean’s been like this since they were kids and it still gets on Marco’s nerves. Jean knows it gets on Marco’s nerves.
Not impressed by any means, Marco offers an ultimatum, “Move or I’ll sit on your lap.” Jean doesn’t seem to respond to anything else when he’s comfortable and especially not when he’s as focussed as he is right now.
To Marco’s surprise, Jean shrugs, continuing on with his game. “What if I don’t mind if you sit on my lap?” Marco studies Jean’s face carefully, not sure if he’s being played with or Jean’s simply trying to bluff his way through.
“You wouldn’t be able to see the screen…” Marco points out, talking slowly to make sure Jean is understanding what he’s saying. He can’t let himself be put off by Jean’s tactics. He wants that seat on the sofa.
Jean hums and purses his lips. He battles his way through what looks like a particularly difficult part of the level, making Marco stand there awkwardly until Jean responds, “I could manage.”
Unsure of whether he should push his way in to sit down or stand his ground, Marco questions what Jean is telling him. “What? Do you want me to sit on your lap?” Jean’s not even the least bit concerned and he’s not laughing or moving. He’s standing his ground while Marco begins to freak out at the idea of possibly having to actually sit on Jean’s lap to save face.
Jean grunts, moving his shoulders as he fights his way through another gauntlet in the game, eyes still never leaving the screen. His voice sounds like he’s far away, not quite listening to exactly what Marco’s saying but responding anyway. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you’d like it,” Marco offers as explanation. He immediately regrets it, staring wide-eyed at Jean’s blank face lit up by the light of the TV. Jean doesn’t flinch for a second.
“I might,” Jean admits, shrugging his shoulders and the controller in his hands along with it. His tone is so nonchalant that Marco has to blink to make sure Jean’s still conscious. “What’s so weird about letting the guy I like sit in my lap?”
Marco has to bite his lip to prevent himself from screaming or squeaking or emitting some other just as terrible sound. “Jean?”
“Hmmm?” Jean makes a non-committal sound. The strain in Marco’s voice barely seems to have touched his ears. Marco resists the urge to shake his shoulders.
Crossing his arms tighter and blinking in shock, Marco turns his head towards the TV and back again. It does nothing to help the fluttery feeling in his chest, or perhaps that’s his stomach. “What was that?” he demands, unable to keep his voice calm any longer.
Jean scratches an itch on his leg quickly between button presses. “What was what?” he asks, apparently unaware of what he just said moments before.
Marco reaches out and grabs Jean by the shoulder, immediately withdrawing his hand when he finally gains Jean’s full attention. “Stop the game,” he adds with a gulp and questions what the hell he thinks he’s doing.
“Fine.” Jean pauses the game and takes a moment to put down his controller. “Yeah?” His eyebrows draw into a line. Whatever Marco’s face looks like now has him worried.
Staring at Jean and finding himself unable to keep eye contact, he stares awkwardly at Jean’s t-shirt. It’s one of his favourites. Marco can’t say what game the logo is from any more than he can come up with something to say. “’The guy you like’?” he repeats, finding it the only option.
Jean’s jaw drops. He scratches his hairline, then his neck, then his arm.“Shit. You heard that?” His voice cracks, eyes wide and scared, trying to read Marco’s face as if that can reveal exactly what happened while he was distracted.
Marco nods, though it feels more like bobbing his head awkwardly than a nod. “You were kinda talking, yeah.” He rubs up his arm and finds the courage to peek up. Jean’s unable to meet him in the eye now.
“Shit,” Jean curses under his breath. He mumbles something even lower that Marco can’t make out and starts erratically tapping his foot on the ground.
Marco squeezes his hands nervously into fists, uncertain as to where his hands are meant to go when he’s nervous and about to ask something entirely stupid. “So… you like me?” he asks of the lost and worried look on Jean’s face. Marco imagines he doesn’t look that much different himself.
Jean’s voice sounds uncertain, but most of all embarrassed. “I guess?” he answers back. His eyes look up at Marco as if asking if that’s okay with him.
“You guess?” Marco blurts out in his bewilderment. Jean had just said it so casually, like a fact he knew and has carried with him for so long. Marco can’t believe he hasn’t noticed that before. “I need to know.”
Jean reaches to the back of his head, smoothing down his hair, then fixing his shirt collar. “Okay, okay, yes.” His hands fall down before him and he gestures openly, throwing his hands up in the air. “Surprise. Now you know.”
“Wow…” is the only thing Marco can think of to say. He guesses he’s never really thought much about it. The casual joke between them here and there seemed like harmless fun. Perhaps, Marco wonders, a lot more of Jean’s playful banter had been flirting, as much as his had been.
“I don’t meant to make you awkward or anything. It’s fine…” Jean’s rambling is as awkward as his hand gestures mirrored him. “If you- if you don’t… uh…”
Marco watches him struggle for words, immediately regretting putting him on the spot like this. There’s only one thing he can say. He may as well come out with it. “I like you too, Jean.”
As Jean’s eyebrows rise, Marco feels his own nerves tingling, or maybe it’s the excitement of finally saying it aloud for Jean to hear.
Jean immediately moves over the sofa to make room for Marco. They both sit awkwardly, exchanging nervous glances and taking deep breathes until Jean mumbles, “I still won’t mind if you sit on my lap.”