Study Break

—x—

Oh, swing the door wide open; show me your jaded eyes.

I will turn them red, drunk with vivid flame.

You will see again, and you will learn your real name.

—x—

Winter came fast. It swept across the city with a chill that sunk into bones vainly covered in wool coats and scarves. The dull grey landscape became white in a steady snow fall, saturating the patches of green in the process, until everything became one perfect image of alabaster. It covered the city while its inhabitants continued on with their lives, seemingly too busy to give it more than a moment's thought. Their footsteps carried them onwards, to work or school or some social gathering of sorts, foot prints and cigarette butts the only proof that they had even been witnesses to its coming. November was at its end and December swept in like a thief.

"Hey, Jean," a voice calls out softly. It stirs me out of my thoughts and I'm no longer staring out the window; I find myself staring at its owner situated across from me. His face is all aglow with a soft smile, his warm brown eyes matching the expression. It makes me smile too. "I misplaced my notes for Smith's class. Can I borrow yours?"

"Yeah, sure. Hold on."

His gaze flicks down after another moment, focusing on the task at hand once more. I do the same, searching through a binder until I find what he's asked for. "This should be the whole semester," I tell him as I pull the papers out and hand them across the table. He gives me that smile again and this time it conveys gratitude alongside his fondness, voices his thanks, and returns to his work. I rest my cheek against the palm of my hand and watch as his fingers grasp his pen once more to scribble more notes down, preparing for finals next week. His devotion to his studies is apparent; his resolve to succeed and graduate never cease to impress me. It inspires me to do my best, though all I seem to be capable of doing today is daydreaming. The thought brings me back to staring out the window, the blanket of snow covering the grounds growing thicker by the minute. All I've done this week is study with Marco.

With Marco.

A smile involuntarily forms on my lips. I steal a glance at the boy before me, hard at work to absorb all the information taught to us these past few months. Our degrees have led us down separate paths but we share a few classes. It never seems like enough though, and this time we've spent together cramming for finals has been far more enjoyable than it would have been with anyone else. But if I'm being completely honest, it's a bit harder to concentrate on studies in his presence. Combine that with the flurry burying this city and I'm truly useless as a student.

"Hey, Marco." The words leave my lips before my thoughts have finished; I hear his pen settle, a soft rustle of papers, and know that he's staring at me. "Let's take a break. We've been doing this all week and I'm starting to get too restless to concentrate." I turn to face him, half expecting a serious look to be on his face while he ponders the idea, but when our eyes meet I see a spark of relief come to life in his eyes.

"You've been eyeing the snow all afternoon," he notes aloud, gathering his assortment of books and papers to carry back to our dorm. "That's what this is really about, isn't it?"

"Don't tell me you haven't been thinking it too."

Don't tell me I'm the only one who feels this way. Marco...

He laughs at me, standing from his chair. "Of course I am. I'm not used to this whole 'being an adult' thing anyways." He pulls the small stack of items into his arms, bearing them against his chest securely and looking down at me expectantly. I have to expend a bit of effort to pry my eyes from the expression on his freckled features, piling the few items I'd brought with me and carrying them at my side as we leave the study lounge and head down the hall. He walks ahead of me, a spring in his step; his determination to study was far greater than mine but his eyes must have craved to look out the window just as badly as mine.

—x—

"Missed me!"

Marco's laughter echoes out across the courtyard. He's taken refuge behind the large oak near the fountain, hiding from Reiner's assault. Behind him, Bertholdt stalks forward from one bush to another, and then to a barricade of snow Annie had built. Instead of warning him, Connie and I spring forth our own attack. "For free hot chocolate!" he cries out as we charge forward. By the time our prey look in our direction it's too late; we've taken over their snow ball reserve and have forced them out of their base, using their own ammunition to disperse them. Somewhere across the fountain Reiner's disappointment is let out.

"No! Bert, Annie! My comrades!" He rushes towards his 'fallen' brother and sister of snow warfare, dropping to his knees in a dramatic fashion as his arms stretch towards the heavens. We advance on him, Marco coming quickly to join us, armed with a handful of snow. Reiner gives us his attention, trying his best not to let his grin take hold just yet. "May the chocolate burn the tips of your tongues!" he curses us. Laughter erupts once more as we hit him with a barrage of snow.

After a handful of taunts and final wave of attacks we retreat to the student union, snagging a table by the windows. Connie excuses himself and heads for the bathroom while the others move to join the line for the cafe; Marco and I stay behind. I silently revel in our moment alone. Having spent the last four hours with everyone, the intimacy of being by ourselves— if even just for a few minutes, is refreshing. He interrupts my thoughts as he settles in his chair finally after shedding his coat, leaning towards me in a collapsing fashion. I lay my arm across his shoulders and his head rests against mine, a sigh falling from his lips.

"It's Saturday," he says. "One more day, and then we have finals. I don't know if I'm ready."

I chuckle softly, see his head shift in response from the corner of my eye. "You study so intensely, I don't think it's possible for you to fail any of your exams. Even if you did nothing but laze around all day tomorrow, you'd still pass with flying colors, Marco." This time his head raises until he's sitting up straight, allowing me to look him in the eye. "In fact, that's what you're going to do tomorrow. I'm enforcing a mandatory break from studying."

"Wha—? But I have a cal—"

I move in my chair to face him, cupping his face with my hands; he attempts to stutter out the rest of his sentence a moment more, freckled cheeks flushing a shade of red past the one the cold air had already caused. I grin at how flustered he is by the action and can't help but gaze at his lips, wonder how soft they might feel against my own until I catch myself drawing closer. "No more studying tonight either," I breathe, stopping myself just a meager inch before contact.

I could easily close this distance. I know he's holding his breath, waiting for it. He's not stopping me, I could do it...

But I've wasted my time. I let go of Marco and pull back just as Connie appears, taking his seat next to me, already halfway into his first story for the evening. Reiner and Bert return with our drinks, Annie trailing and bringing pastries to go along with them. I ease into the conversation quickly, but Marco is still that shade of red, still flustered. It takes him a moment or two and Connie calling his name to draw him out of it.

He wanted it, right? That's what it means... right?

—x—

Ten o'clock rolls around before we know it. Once we've hugged and said our goodbyes on the steps of the union the silent night hugs its chilled arms around Marco and I. When I glance over at him his eyes are concentrated on the path before us. I get this feeling in my stomach that I made a mistake and let myself get too close— literally. A silent panic takes over me and keeps my mouth shut, not daring to break the silence save for a breath here and there.

"Jean."

His voice cuts through the quiet atmosphere with a fatal accuracy, halting me in my tracks a moment later. I turn to see him a few paces back. His eyes are no longer on the path in front of him. Now they avert to the side, a certain anxiety fleeting through his chestnut hues that even the darkness could not mask. Something about it calms the tension in my stomach.

"I, uh... Jean," he speaks again, unsteadily, his hand flying up to rest at his neck and rub at it in a nervous fashion.

"Yes, Marco?" I answer softly. My nerves are gone now, but his flare up at the sound of my voice. A smile on the verge of a smirk curls the corners of my lips at this as I close the distance between us. The tension I felt before is replaced with a new kind of tightness. "Come on, out with it."

He inhales audibly, eyes flicking down towards his feet momentarily before lifting them to meet my gaze. When his eyes meet mine, something stirs in them. They change right before me, from milk to dark chocolate. Too caught up, I fail to notice when his hands have rested on either side of my neck— or when he's drawn closer to me, hovering over me so that his breath mingles with mine.

It smells like cherry and cocoa.

"Marco," I exhale, letting eyes close and head fall back, his hand moving almost instantly to cradle it as our lips collide. A shockwave hits me and sends a different kind of chill down my spine. His lips are soft— softer than I imagined, but they kiss hard. Passionate, full of determination. Our heads tilt in time with one another and he opens his mouth to let his tongue plead for entry.

Yes... Take whatever you want, take everything.

His hunger surprises me when I let him in; my legs start to grow weak and fail me. As if on cue, his arms encircle my waist and steady me, pull me taut to his frame, leaving my arms only one route. They slide around his neck and I let him have his way with me, right there in the middle of the courtyard.

—x—

"Fuck."

Fuck is the only word I can utter. It's damn near the only one I can think. Fuck. I try to grasp for coherent thoughts.

When we returned Marco went straight to the bathroom. The knots in my stomach only tightened. They stir inside me still as I stare up at the ceiling above my bed. I can still feel the sensation on my lips, the arms that held me with such surety, the impossible heat inside a bitter, howling wind. We walked back to the dorm in complete silence afterwards, the shock of the moment still quaking at the tips of our tongues too much for commentary. That silence filled the room heavily, only disturbed by the relentless pounding in my chest until the bathroom door creaked open.

"Jean," his voices sounds, freezing me in my thoughts. I sit up almost instantly, swallowing hard and wetting my dry lips; he stands there in the middle of the room, bare chested and in his pajama pants. "Can I...?" He trails off, gaze off to the side as a pink tint roars to life across his features.

He's never this bothered.

It makes me grin, the tightness in my abdomen subsiding slightly. I pull myself forward on my knees and tug him by his wrist, twisting him to sit on the edge, arms encircling his shoulders. His eyes are shut, the pink aglow under his freckles only growing more intense. "Can you what?" I prompt him, trapping him between my thighs. I feel the shiver it causes, see the goose bumps that have appeared on his shoulders and graze them with my lips. He swallows with great labor and takes a shaky breath, but I don't ease up; he tenses as I let my lips wander to the spot beneath his ear.

"S-sleep with... y-you, tonight," he manages to stutter out finally, his body seemingly going limp from the effort exerted in order to voice his query.

A chuckle falls dangerously from my lips.

"Of course."

—x—

The next morning was nothing short of a dream.

He fell asleep in my arms, but I woke in his. I've seen that slumbering face so many times in the past few months and yet it feels as if I've never truly seen it until now. A person seems so unguarded when in the throes of sleep no matter who they are; their vulnerability increases tenfold when they're next to you, their limbs caught up in yours. I have to shift to see that freckled face, away from my comfortable spot at his chest, but it's worth it. He doesn't even notice. His soft snores sound away, his features still as relaxed, peaceful. I watch him for what seems like an eternity, feeling as if I should look away but finding such an action impossible. As if looking away will make this dream fade away in a puff of smoke.

If this is a dream, I don't want it to end.

He stirs in his sleep, turns on his side and places his arm over me unconsciously. I smile, unable to resist him anymore; my palm presses to his chest and slides upwards, up the side of his neck until my fingers slip into his locks with ease. He nuzzles into the action thoughtlessly, though he doesn't wake until I've pressed a kiss to his forehead. When I pull back and see his warm brown eyes staring up at me their heat infects my chest like an incurable virus. "Good morning."

"Mmh," he mumbles, his eyes closing again as a sleepy smile takes hold. "Morning."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. That smile.

He startles from his sleepy state, eyes wide. "Sunday morning. Tomorrow's Monday, I have to study for—"

I halt his speech swiftly, catching his lips by force; his struggle lasts for the briefest of moments before realizing it's useless. He gives in, his entire body wordlessly handing itself over to me.

One night and he already knows how this works.

I smirk.

"Study break, Marco."

—x—

A/N:

I enjoyed writing this more than I thought I would. Due to recent events I've grown to love Jean almost as much as Reiner and Levi. This one flew from my fingertips with ease, and maybe in the future I'll write a series to continue it, but I wrote this mostly because I'm a little stuck on If You Ever Run. And also because I'm finding myself violently riding multiple ships regarding SnK. Hence the birth of this (what I hope will come to be a vast) collection of short stories.

I'm nearly finished with the next one so stick around, yeah? ;*

Song lyrics:

Backdraft by Thrice, The Alchemy Index (Volume 1: Fire)