Blame it on the Hoodie
It was just not Marco's morning.
Despite the fact that he had woken up late and his roommate was not being helpful at all, he hadn't been able to shower, forgot a jacket and umbrella while it was raining, sprinted through the campus like a madman hoping his backpack didn't get too soaked, burst into the science building and then slipped on the floor.
Sighing, he picked himself up and grabbed his backpack, nearly slipping again in the puddle he was now creating; no thanks to the rain. Then he realized he had forgotten his coffee.
Marco groaned and face palmed. He couldn't last an hour without coffee—especially in his morning classes. Of course he had the good luck to have Ms. Hanji first. All he needed now was some overenthusiastic earth science teacher questioning him about why he was soaked to the bone. He was really not in the mood.
"Please don't let me be late…" Marco murmured to himself as he ran through the long hallways of the building, avoiding the questioning glances thrown at him when he passed other students. He didn't want to have to ask anyone for their notes.
Rounding another corner, the black haired man ran straight into something. Actually, to be more specific, another student, who seemed in just as much as a rush as Marco. Unfortunately for both of them, he had been carrying a scolding hot cup of coffee, which was dropped all over Marco and parts of the other when they collided and fell.
"Hot! Hot!" Marco yelped as the coffee spilt all over his shirt. "That's freaking hot!"
The other was yelling as well, quickly maneuvering to get out from under him. "Fucking… Watch where you're going, would you?!" he spat.
"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" Marco apologized, squirming around as the hotness burnt his skin. He looked up to see the other towering over him, and he suddenly felt so small and helpless. He had light brown hair that touched his ears; the rest was cut in an undercut and was dark brown. Penetrating amber eyes looked him over, softening when they met his own brown ones. "Sorry," he mumbled again.
The brunet extended a hand, scratching the back of his head with the other. "Sorry, I didn't mean to come off like an asshole. My coffee wakes me up, you know?" He gave a small laugh, a sound Marco found himself liking.
Chuckling back and accepting the helping hand, he stood, trying his best to ignore the coffee still blistering his skin underneath his shirt. "Sorry, again. I was just in such a rush and I didn't really… I don't know. Sorry." He looked down at the spilled coffee. "I can get you a new one, if you want."
"Nah, it's cool," the other smiled. "I can get it. I'm Jean, by the way."
"Marco Bodt."
Jean leaned down and grabbed the now empty styrofoam cup. "Marco, huh? I've seen you around campus a couple times. You're roommates with Eren Jaeger, right?"
"You know Eren?" Marco asked, walking at a slow pace next to the other.
"Unfortunately, yes. We went to high school together. The guy's a douche."
"He's not that bad," he smiled. "Only when he gets extra homework from his calculus teacher. Then he complains a bunch and won't turn off the lamp until he's finished because he procrastinates until one in the morning."
"That's Eren all right," Jean snickered. "I'm roommates with his best friend, Armin Arlert."
"Oh, he's really smart, right?"
"Really smart is an understatement. The guy's a walking calculator."
The two fell into an easy conversation, talking about roommates and high school friends that had gone to the same college and even about past crushes. Marco found out Jean used to be in love with Eren's sister, Mikasa (who even he had to admit was beautiful), and had only recently gotten over her. The brunet was appalled when Marco told him he had never had a girlfriend—or a crush on a girl, for that matter, but he left that part out—and wasn't looking for one.
Nevertheless, Marco found himself enjoying the man's company. It was not until he realized they had been aimlessly walking around the building, both forgetting about their current class, that he had to go.
He was about to say something when Jean suddenly exclaimed, "Here it is!" Marco looked at the sign above the door that read Teacher's Lounge.
"Jean, are you sure it's worth it to break into the teacher's lounge for coffee?" he sighed, a small smile finding its way onto his face.
"Anything's worth it for coffee," said man replied, pulling a quarter out of his pocket. "Plus, the locks are really easy to pick. Shouldn't take long. You can just hang out here."
"I have to get to my next class; I'm already late," Marco sighed.
The brunet began to pick the lock, twisting the quarter until it clicked. "Or," he grinned, "you could get some free coffee instead."
"Free coffee does sound nice," he mumbled to himself, following the other in. He hoped he didn't regret his choice later. Oh, well; later was later, simple as that. In fact, he found himself not even wanting to leave Jean just yet.
Marco had never been in a teacher's lounge before and found that it was like a miniature kitchen. There were kitchen counters lining the small room's walls, a fridge, a sink built into the counter, a table in the middle, and a coffee maker right next to the sink. A small trash can was placed on top of the counter for no reason.
"Let's see here," Jean thought out loud, moving the trash can out of the way and experimentally pressing buttons on the coffee maker. Marco shut the door behind them, hoping no teacher decided it was time for a coffee break. "This one is different from the one in the cafeteria…"
Pulling a chair out from under the wooden table, the black haired man took a seat and observed the other, watching wordlessly as he cursed the piece of machinery to high heaven.
Jean was attractive in an edgy sort of way. Marco had never liked the grunge hipster look, but he found that the brunet wore it well. Adorned in red plaid hoodie, dark gray t-shirt, and black skinny jeans, he looked like a typical white guy. All he was missing were the glasses.
Marco suddenly felt extremely self-conscious about the large brown stain on his white collared shirt, heat rising to his face when Jean turned around pouring the beans into the machine.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"N-nothing," Marco stammered, slinking down in his chair in an effort to hide the hideous spot, even though it was silly.
"Oh, your shirt. Here." Jean shrugged off his hoodie and tossed it to Marco.
"Huh?"
"Wear it, stupid," the other said. "You don't want people to see the stain, right?"
"Oh, yeah…" Marco sputtered. He could now see that the brunet had biceps and a lean figure, something the large hoodie had been hiding earlier. He fumbled with it awkwardly, shooting the other a glare when he heard a snort.
Jean went back to preparing to coffee. Marco sat quietly, noting that the hoodie fit him perfectly, meaning it was about a size too big for the owner. He pressed the sleeves to his face, inhaling the scent of the brunet quickly before the other noticed. He wondered what the hell he was doing sitting in a teacher's lounge waiting for a stranger to brew his coffee when he should be in class. He was close to leaving from his jumpy nerves.
"There we go," Jean said as the buzzer on the machine went off, signaling the pot had been filled. Pouring two cups of the brown liquid, he handed one to Marco and began pouring creamers and sugars into his own. "I won't try to guess how much stuff you like in yours; you come do it."
Marco obliged, getting out of the chair he had become rather comfortable in. He added lots of creamer and a dab of milk retrieved from the fridge. Soon, the duo was sipping their freshly brewed coffee at the table. Jean leaned back in his chair, reclining his feet on the wooden surface.
After a moment of silence, the brunet spoke. "This has been… interesting, to say the least," he remarked. "What do you think?"
Marco nodded. "Definitely interesting. I'd want to do it again sometime, only without the stain and sneaking into the teacher's lounge and all that."
"Right," Jean laughed. "Are you free for lunch?"
Marco's eyes lit up. "Yeah," he smiled.
"Great. I'm sure we'll find each other in the cafeteria somewhere."
He nodded, nervously sipping his coffee before he worked up the guts to ask, "Do you think I could have your number?"
Surprisingly, Jean nodded quickly, reaching across the table and plucking the phone that Marco had hastily taken out of his pocket of the black haired man's hands. It took him a moment—a moment in which Marco was able to stare at his concentrated face tenderly—for him to find contacts and add himself in. He gave it back to Marco proudly, a grin plastered on his face.
"Well, we better get going," he announced, standing and tossing his emptied cup in the trash can before Marco could say anything. Following his suit and tossing his as well, he followed the brunet out. The craftier of the two got to work at relocking the lock, smirking to the other when it clicked once again. "See? Told you; easy."
"You called it," Marco shrugged, falling into pace with Jean as they began walking. A comfortable silence settled over the two, only breaking when Marco asked if the class Jean was going to was the way they were going.
"Yeah, we split soon, though," he answered.
That split came far too soon for Marco. Thankfully, he had lunch to look forward to. "Well, I guess I'll see you at lunch. If I can't find you, I'll call you," the taller of the two stated.
"Sounds good. See you, Marco," Jean smiled and turned down a different hallway.
"Bye, Jean."
It turned out it hadn't really mattered whether or not he missed class—he couldn't focus anyways and wound up having to borrow someone else's notes. And for the first time in his life, he had gotten called out for being late.
He could thank the owner of the hoodie he was wearing for that.
Just a little oneshot I felt like writing. Special thanks to the wonderful Beta MarluxiaSutcliff116 who looked over this for me!