Error

Chapter 1

Jean was running late. Very late. He ran down cobblestone streets, turning corner after corner. His shoulders and hair were wet from the rain that came down in light sprinkles.
Jean tugged at his miss buttoned white shirt as he rushed anxiously up slippery brick steps that led to a small wooden house. Nervously, he ran a hand through his blonde hair atop his head. He was so late, and so disappointed in himself.

Jean was just about to knock on the dark wood when the door creaked open. A boy, about Jean's age stood in the doorway. His smile simply accenting the freckles that doted his cheeks. "Jean." The boy said.

"I am so late and I am so sorry." Jean interrupted, quickly looking down to hide his flushed cheeks.

"Only by a few minutes." The boy said, as he stepped aside to allow Jean to enter the house. Jean rolled his eyes, stepping passed the other.

"Yeah, well. I'm still late." Jean mumbled.

He was greeted with a welcoming smell of something baking- and the air was warm as opposed to the cool April air and rain.

"Are you cooking, Marco?" Jean asked, turning around to face the freckled boy.

"Yes, actually." Marco replied, pushing his short messy brown hair back from his forehead, "My famous chocolate chip cookies!"

Jean smiled, he had always loved how happy Marco was. He never seemed to stop smiling and he always found the bright side to things. "Yummy." Jean said, a playful tone lacing his voice.

Marco laughed, lightly shoving Jeans shoulder. He allowed the door to shut and entwined his fingers with Jean's. "My parents should be home with Max soon. But for now, it's just us."

"Oh…" Jean sucked in a breath and leaned closer to place a quick kiss on Marco's cheek. Marco, being the devious boyfriend he was, quickly spun his head so their lips met. Jean's eyes widened and he quickly pulled back, stumbling over the leg of a chair, "N-wah!" he said as he fell backwards onto the couch.
"Marco!" he protested.

Marco laughed, wrapping his arms around his midriff. "Oh would you relax? It's just a kiss." He teased, knowing just how little things like that made Jean oh so flustered.

"That was unfair." Jean replied, standing up from his not so elegant pose on the couch.

"Whatever you say, Captain." Marco smirked, sticking his tongue out at Jean. "Come on. I set up my bed all comfy like for our movie day."

Jean couldn't help but smile as they walked down the little hallway. "Fine." Jean said softly, "But I get an extra cookie."

"Deal." Marco replied, pushing his bedroom door open. Inside, Marco's bed was pushed into the corner, the sheets were folded and tucked in neatly. Large white fluffy pillows surrounded it, along with a blanket to match.

Jean realized just how much work Marco had put into his room. Not that Marco's room wasn't always clean anyways. But now, as Jean stood in the doorway, he noticed all the little changes. Marco had moved the television and its stand directly in front of his bed, where as it used to sit in the center of his room. So both Marco and his little brother could enjoy from their separate beds on either side of the room.

"Jean." Marco said with a small laugh, gesturing to the bed. "Are you coming? Or are you going to fall asleep during the movie standing up like a horse?"

Jean rolled his eyes, "oh shush, you freckled freak….besides….horses lay down to sleep."

Marco grinned, "I'm your freckled freak, horse face."

Jean chuckled, stepping further into the room. Marco waved his hand in front of the T.V. and the screen came to life. Eyes blinked on the large screen. "How may I assist, you, Marco." A robotic voice spoke.

Jean fell back onto the soft pile of fabric on Marcos bed.
"Robie, Place room settings to movie night." Marco said, as he climbed onto the bed next to Jean.

"Movie night settings in place." The voice said. The lights in the room dimmed, and the screen flicked over to a dark red.

"Pull up date night movies, Robie. Randomize playlist. Select." Marco said, with a small yawn as he rested his head on Jean's chest. The screen whirled and an opening song started to play as the scene zoomed in.

"You sure do like Robie" Jean said, resting his head on a pillow.

"I love him." Marco smiled up at Jean, "You did such a good job on creating him and I am so honored to be your test subject for it."

Jean smiled, it was true, and he and his team had done a great job making Robie. But there were still so many things wrong about him. "I'll have to check him out later." Jean said, lightly dragging his fingers over Marco's brown wavy hair.

"Yeah. Earlier I asked him to set the oven to 350 and he put it on 20." Marco agreed, confusion crossed his face, then panic. "The cookies!" Marco leaped off the bed and rushed to the kitchen, "Robie! Cancel oven settings!" he yelled, yanking the oven door open.

Jean followed Marco calmly. The kitchen filled with a cloud of smoke, and the smell of burned cookies.

"Robie. Reverse the vent system." Jean said. The houses system briefly cut off, then the fans behind the vents clicked on, sucking air from the kitchen and puling the smoke out. Jean looked over as Marco pulled the tray of burned cookies from the over and dropped it on the stove top.

"Great." He spat, taking the oven mit off and throwing it down on the counter top.

Jean could help it. He laughed, progessibly getting louder

"Whats so funny?" Marco asked, crossing his arms, a cute pout forming on his lips.

"You're just…" laughter. "So cute when you're angry." Jean said, struggling to get the words out between his hardy laughs.

Marco glared at him, tears threatening to fall. "Jean it's not funny!"

Jean stopped, seeing how upset his freckled love was. "No. no no hey." He said, rushing forward. He wrapped his arms around the other. Jean put on hand on the crown of Marco's head, pulling him into a tight hug. "I was only kidding. I'm sorry." He whispered.

Marco closed his eyes, resting his head in the crook of Jean's neck. "It's okay." He whispered back, "I just…wanted everything to be perfect." He sighed.

Jean kissed Marco's forehead, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Everything is perfect." He slipped his hands down Marco's sides to his hands, entwining their fingers.

Marco picked up on Jean's movements and suddenly, they were dancing. Shuffling across the smooth tile floor. Marco in his wrinkled pajamas, Jean in his damp black jeans and button up shirt. They spun in slow circles, and Jean hummed Marco's favorite song.

They stayed like that for a while, practically locked away in their own little world.