Author's note : HAHAHAA HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN, FOLKS uwu I was whipping up a new concoction, which was apparently, another Marco/Jean fanfic! XD This one is set in a model AU. Model!Jean and Photographer!Marco. uwu and yes, there WILL be smut. Just not in this chapter. o3o but i will put a warning if it contains smut! uwu also, rated M for smut (though again, not on this chapter), and has yaoi in it. Hope you guys dig it! uwu The next chapter will probably come out in a week or two, alongside with a new chapter of 'Toying Around', huzzah! o3o

"Bodt!"

A voice called from the other side of the office. He couldn't really hear it clearly though, since he was using his headset. It was always his thing, to work while listening to music. Yet doing so didn't make him feel distracted from work at all. It only made him feel much more comfortable with it. Marco pulled his headset off while his head jerked upwards, looking around trying to find the source of the voice. "... Maybe it was just my imagination.", he shook his head as he looked back at his computer screen again. Surely, the lighting on this winter photo shoot was not that well, but he could manage.

"Bodt!", that voice reached his ears again when he was about to put on his headset. Marco replied at that instant, "Yes! Coming!", he said as he walked quickly to the source of the voice, almost tripping over Leonhardt's trash bin.

Here he was, standing in front of a table with the name plate "Ymir, Head of Photography" on it. The name already made him nervous, and the female sat down to the office chair behind the table after noticing Marco's arrival. She sighed, and Marco somehow, felt like it was a bad thing. The sigh felt like it lasted for an eternity.

"What do you think of this?", the female with the ponytail asked, slapping some photos onto the table. Marco shifted his feet uncomfortably as he stood in front of the table, "Well, the lighting is not that good, considering how dark it looked...", he said with a slightly embarrassed smile playing on his lips. He knew exactly who took those photos and who managed the photo shoot.

"And?", the female continued, her eyes still latching into Marco's, and her face looked utterly dissatisfied. He tilted his head down to look at the pictures. "The timing seems a little bit off.", he paused, trying to find words to explain his previous sentence, "There was not much cooperation between the model and the photographer.", he shifted his eyes back up to the lady in front of her.

"Marco, do you know who took these photos?", she asked with a serious tone as she rested knotted her hands together and rested her chin on it. Marco nodded. He opened his mouth to give a complete answer, but a nod was enough for her, "When was it taken?", she asked. "A year ago.", Marco gulped, "Right before i joined the Freiheit magazine crew.", he added. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening again, a bead of sweat rolled down from his forehead. He was not ready to get fired. Taking photographs of people and things around him was the only thing he was good at. He tried cooking, even knitting, none of them worked out for him. If the manager, Irvin Smith, would fire him, he would be dead. He would no longer have a place to live, and no money to pay for food.

"Exactly!", suddenly Ymir stood from her office chair with her hands on her hips and laughed. Marco was confused by the sudden change of expression. Ymir laughed even louder, "You have improved so much, or so the boss said.", she pulled a smirk on her face, before sitting down on the chair again. She grabbed a small cup of coffee and chugged it down. After she set the beverage aside, she looked at Marco with the 'you - are - so - fucking - lucky' look, "He decided to send you to Milan next week, to take some photos in Milan Fashion Week.".

Marco almost shrieked in excitement.

And here he was, on one of the seats in Milan Fashion Week. He wore his best clothes. Even though he was only there to take photos of the models, he couldn't afford to be beaten by people who were attending the show as well. A photographer for a fashion show must be as fashionable as the fashion designs themselves, that was what he thought. He looked at his clock nervously. The runway was still empty, but the seats around the runway were already full of people. Marco had never been in a fashion show before. Well, he had, but not this grand. Milan Fashion Week was a whole new level for Marco. He could hear the talk of the people around him. Obviously, the people around him were fashion enthusiasts. Or, journalists and photographers like him.

While waiting, he thought again how could he even be there. The next moment after Ymir told him he was going to take some photos in Milan Fashion Week, she handed him a ticket, scheduled for a few days after that day to Milan. He was also given the money for accommodation, and also food. This was a new experience for him, and for him, it meant that he was promoted (though not as in title, but he was trusted for something this big to him, so for him it was a great achievement). Did it mean that he would get a higher salary? He hoped so.

He was not the only one sent by Freiheit Magazine to Milan. Armin Arlelt, a journalist from the magazine, was also sent here, to accompany Marco (since this was his first time going to Milan, Armin had gone there a few times). Armin insisted for him to take a seat wherever he wanted, while Armin would go to the backstage and interview some models. "But what about the exclusive backstage photos?", Marco asked him earlier. Armin told him he could still take a few shots after the show had ended. Marco doubted this, but nonetheless, he did what Armin had said. After all, he was the one who went to Milan first.

The lights went off, the bass was echoing through the speakers, and Marco knew that this was his cue to get ready.

He checked his camera settings again (he was never comfortable with the 'semi auto' mode, he prefers manual to semi auto), before nodding to himself, excitement pumping in his veins. Marco wasn't much of a fashion enthusiast, but he always was excited to see what the fashion designers have came up with to surprise the world. Also, this was a very important task for him (in fact, his first very important task). He couldn't mess it up.

A model walked out from one side of the stage, and walked on the runway as the lights slowly went on again.

Marco swore, the way the model's hips moved... It was... Un - natural. He couldn't even push the capture button on his Cannon camera, he felt his hands shaking and his body trembling. Marco couldn't let his eyes off from the male model. The outfit wasn't that much, it was quite simple, actually. It was only a green turtleneck sweater with leather patches on the elbows, with a knee - length khaki pants. Accompanied with a pair of oxford shoes and a pair of black socks.

Was it because of the way he walked? The way his legs ventured on the runway... It seemed like every step he took was rhythmic, with the music. The way the model's hazel eyes were focused on no one, like no one was there. He was only there alone, with himself. His brown hair and his undercut matched his outfit perfectly, the way he turned on the runaway is simply... Eye catching.

Marco shook his head. "Right! I got a job to do!", he said to himself, trying to remember his purpose going to Milan Fashion Week. His task was to take photos, not to check out some random strangers walking on the runway. He slowly lifted his arms and took photos of the models. He made himself sure that he took more than ten photos per - model, especially of that guy.

"Marco!", Armin repeated himself. Marco shook his head once, before turning to Armin with an embarrassed smile. He was kind of spacing out. "Did you manage to take some photos of the models?", Armin asked with a concerned face. This is Marco's first time in a huge fashion event, of course, but he shouldn't be that worried. Marco was a photographer, nonetheless. He knew what his job was and he took care of it.

"Yeah, i did.", he answered with a proud smile. He pressed the 'gallery' button on his camera, and appeared a bunch of photos of the models that were on the runway. "This one is really good!", Armin pointed at one particular photo. Marco didn't need to zoom in to know who it was. It was that model. "You captured the photo in the right angle, the right lighting, and even the right momentum too!", Armin continued. "Not to mention you really did capture his expression-"

Marco couldn't hear the rest of what Armin had said about the photo. All he could focus on was on the person in the photo.

In which, he got an idea.

"Armin, have you interviewed the models in the backstage?", Marco asked, hoping that Armin would forget about interviewing them and they all have to go in. If he already did, Marco could still go in, though. But Marco just didn't have enough courage to be in a place so alien to him alone, especially with a guy who could screw him up.

"Yes, i have.", Armin answered. Marco let his face slid into a frown for a moment, and Armin was quick to notice it. "But we haven't got any photos. I could accompany you in getting some.", Marco lifted his head a bit. "Or, do more interviews while you're at it.", Armin added. Marco's lips slid into a relieved smile, "Thank you!", he replied. Armin nodded in response, before walking towards the backstage, waving an arm towards the place as a signal for Marco to follow him.

The place was full of models (obviously), make up artists, and fashion designers checking out on their creations. Marco looked around for the 'mysterious model', but his search was interrupted with a pat behind his back. "Marco? Are you looking for someone?", Armin asked, his face showed that he was a little bit puzzled. Marco scratched the back of his head, shaking his head, "No, i wasn't.", he laughed a little. "Well, we should do this quick.", Armin shrugged, trying to shook his confusion off (which didn't quite work, but he covered it quite good; Marco didn't notice this), "The top models could be leaving soon, and we-"

"What the fuck is your problem, Jaegar?!"

A loud, booming voice was heard from the other side of the room. Marco, quicker to notice it before Arlelt did, turned his head to the source of the voice, finding the person he was looking for standing right there with his shirt off, and his fists balled next to his sides. "You're my fucking problem!", the shorter, browned haired male in front of the model, replied. "What is your problem, Jean?! I didn't do anything wrong!", the brown haired male added, his words seething with anger and confusion. So his name is Jean, Marco smirked, actually glad that he found out about this (even though it was full accidental).

The brown haired male turned a bit, and Marco could see his left cheek was bruised. Oh, so the model he was looking for had punched him before. Was that it?

"Eren, you little shit!", the man who seemed to be Jean replied, clenching his fists before landing a blow to the shorter male's (who seemed to be Eren) abdomen. Eren managed to dodge it, and landed a blow on Jean's lower jaw instead, sending him stumbling backwards across the floor. No one dared do anything, or say anything about this situation. They only stood there, and watch as the fight went on, and the bruises became more and more visible and severe. Eventually, there was blood shed on both sides (though not much).

Then, Armin realized something.

"Marco!", Armin almost half yelled. Marco jerked upwards a bit, surprised, as he turned to look at Armin. "Take photos! This could be a hot news!", Armin chirped, slowly clapping his hands. Marco hesitantly nodded, and slowly took photos of the fight.

But most of the time, he got distracted by the beads of sweat dripping down on Jean's naked chest, leaving the skin glistening. Marco tried to remind himself numerous of times in his head that he was here to take photos, and again, not to check out the models. He also constantly looked down at his pants, because he felt that it was somehow hot. His pants didn't seem like it was tented, and he has never been that relieved in his whole life.

"FUCK!", Jean cursed as a small amount of blood drippled down from his jaw to his hands. He wiped it off with the back of his hand, before lunging towards Eren again. From what it looked like, Eren was the one experienced in hand to hand combat. Jean got more bruises and blood dripping out of it than Eren did, and again, he was getting whacked again. Though he was not half bad, he could still land a few punches on Eren. Which was only a few, but stronger ones, if compared to Eren's punches which are quick but not really that strong.

"Stop it you, two."

Marco almost pushed the capture trigger on his camera but the sudden noise made him stop. And the two boys did stop fighting too. A short man (around his 20s, maybe? He didn't seem that old), walked and stopped by in the middle of the two. Eren and Jean, both either didn't have enough energy to fight back. Or, was afraid of Mr. Shorty. The short male glared at everyone in the room, and they all went back to work, instead of staring at the two models. Marco himself, even took random photos of models to distract himself. Armin, pretended that he was doing a re - check on his interviews.

"How many time do i need to tell you shits to stop messing around?", the shorter man barked. "But Levi-", the man shot a deadpan at Eren. Eren instinctively looked down to the ground, avoiding Levi's gaze. "But sir, Jean started it!". Jean quickly turned to Eren, "You're the one to say that!", and grabbed Eren by his shirt's collar. It seemed like they were about to start a goddamn fight again.

But then, there's the short guy. Levi kicked the two away from each other... With, a bonus kick for Eren. "Didn't i tell you two to stop fighting?", he hissed. He looked at his boots and saw some blood on it, which was probably Eren's, Jean's, or both. "Tsch.", he grabbed a tissue from his pocket and with a disgusted face, wiped the blood away from his boots. "How filthy.", he commented after he finished cleaning his boots, before walking away from the two models to dump the tissue to the trash can, careful to keep watch of the two.

"Armin?". Armin looked up from his notes, "What is it?". Marco looked around for a moment. Everyone seemed to be tidying up, and both Jean and Eren had headed towards the bathroom. Probably to clean themselves up. Or, resume their fight there. "Shouldn't we get going? Back to the hotel, i mean.", Marco continued. Armin took his phone out from his jeans pockets and checked the time. A nod was his reply, "They're all finished anyways.", Armin added. Marco let out a relieved sigh. Armin was the one to head out to the hotel they were staying in, with Marco following him suit (this is his first time in Milan, and obviously, he wouldn't know much about which route should they pick).

Once the two got to the hotel, Armin was the first one to sleep (after checking on his interviews and moving the data to his laptop, and also sending a report to Ymir with how things were going). While Marco, could only lay on his bed. Still thinking about Jean. He sighed, Why can't i stop thinking about him?, he pondered, What's so special about him?. "Mmm... Mikasa, Eren...", Armin mumbled in his sleep, which almost made Marco jumped.

He turned twice, thrice on the bed, before sitting up. He looked at the square wooden clock hung on the wall, "1 AM.", he mumbled to himself as he let himself flop back down onto the bed. Marco needed to sleep, but he couldn't. His work was not done yet, there were still a lot more tasks for him to finish, tomorrow.

But Marco, the brilliant boy he was, got an idea.

He jumped from the bed and slowly took his laptop out from his backpack, careful not to wake Armin up. Armin moved a little when Marco accidentally stepped on a paper, but he didn't seem like he was woken up. Marco was relieved by that, picked up the paper and set it on the table. He sat back down on the bed, with his back against the headboard, and turned his laptop on.

He had a secondary task to finish.