A.N: This is an idea I've had for awhile, and I just really wanted to write JeanMarco, so...here we go. A high school AU. YEAH. I just needed a story about a jerky lazybones and a drama geek nice-guy becoming bros and eventually finding love (it sounds less cheesy in my head).

There will be lots of fluff, a bit of angst, future half jokes, and much more! I'll stop blabbering now.

CHAPTER ONE:

Heartbreak

Jean had white knuckles.

Today was the day, yes sir, today was the day. He was finally doing it. He was going to tell Mikasa just how he felt. Outside of the big house she lived in with her foster brothers, Eren and Armin, Jean stood on the doorstep, gulping away his fear. I should've brought flowers, Jean thought, as his hands shook violently. I did not prepare for this.

But he had prepared, he'd been preparing since he first met her.

It all started when he noticed her in his History class. She had been staring out the window, her posture was perfect, her hair was long and black. Bored, Jean sketched on some scrap paper, using her as a model. She hot, beautiful even, and he loved drawing girls with hair like hers, that flowed down to her back.

And then, much to Jean's surprise, she came to school the next day with that lovely hair cropped short, right to her chin. It was like she had sensed him staring at it from the back of the class, and wanted to prove she still looked good without it. Jean was speechless, at first losing his faith in humanity. But then, he sketched her again, this time he really looked at her, and not her hair.

Soon, Jean was crushing on her like a virgin schoolgirl, two things he certainly was not.

Armin, the smart, blond boy who's grandfather had taken Eren and Mikasa in as children, noticed Jean's staring and agreed to help him out. They soon became close friends, and Jean even got a job at a coffee shop thanks to Armin's reccomendation.

With Armin's help, he had earned Eren's blessing, though that hadn't been easy. Eren was emotional, confident, and motivated, pretty much all the things Jean wasn't, and that pissed him off. They butted heads all throughout sophmore year, until, finally, Jean stuck his neck out for Eren when he had gotten into a bad fight at school, taking the blame.

And that brings us to the present, nearing the end of the semester of Jean's senior year of High School, where he stood on Mikasa's porch, hands shaking.

Finally, he sucked in a breath, and rang the bell.

It was Mikasa who opened the door, her face slightly red from her workout, and she was only wearing a tight undershirt, which clung to her six-pack that Jean openly marveled at. God, she was sexy.

"Jean?" She blinked, her dark eyes widening in curiousity. "Did you come here for Armin?"

Jean cleared his throat, trying to calm his heart (which had decided to beat as much as a bad rap song). "No, I, uh... I came here for you."

She straightened up, surprised. "Oh. Alright, what is it?"

Suddenly, the embarrassment vanished, and Jean let out a shaky breath. "Well, I..." He trailed off, not wanting to come across as creepy.

"Mikasa Ackerman, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on." Jean began, feeling a weight lift from his chest. "I've had this huge crush on you since I first saw you, and at first, I thought it was just because you had beautiful hair, but then I got to know you." He met her eyes, which were regarding him with an unidentified emotion.

"You're smart, you're strong, and you are the most amazing person on this goddamn planet." Jean said, feeling himself slip into a smile. "And I would really like it if you would consider going on a date with me."

Mikasa looked at him, the usual pokerface replaced with an expression of disbelief. She glanced over her shoulder, then stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

"Jean," she said calmly, looking at him with a soft gaze. "I had no idea."

He blushed, ducking his head. "Well, y'anno, I couldn't ask you out before I knew for sure that I liked you so much, so..."

Mikasa smiled at him with a sadness, and Jean felt his embarrassment vanish.

"If you really care about me, can I trust you with something?" Mikasa turned her gaze to his, and it was sharp and pleading. Jean nodded, knowing that whatever it was, he could handle it.

She looked nervously at the ground, biting her lip. "Jean, I can't date you. Not because I don't like you; you're a wonderful person. But I'm... I'm gay."

He blinked, "Oh."

"Yeah," she chuckled, and then let out a squeak when he pulled her into a tight, bear hug. "Jean, what are you-?"

Jean tightened his grip, because this was the only time he'd really hold her. At least he'd told her. At least she knew. "It's okay," he told her, "It's okay."

And she started to cry; brave, solid Mikasa, started to cry into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing like she hadn't her whole life. And Jean let her. He let her bawl her eyes out, he let her fingers dig into his back, because he was doing something for her.

Right now, Mikasa needed him. That was all he'd ever wanted.

...

The next morning, Jean went to work with a dead look in his eyes. His co-barista, Berthold, gave a startled leap when he saw his expression, which was surprising, since he hung out around Annie Leonheart, Queen of the dead-inside-gaze.

Levi, Jean's boss, actually smacked him upside the head. Well, given the height difference, all he could manage was a slap at Jean's neck. "You'll scare away the customers," he hissed. It was his way of showing concern, Jean supposed.

Jean frowned at him, "This is coming from the man who glares at everything."

Levi smacked him again, and Jean promptly got back to work.

His chest felt numb, his eyes were warm, and all he wanted to do was sleep. Jean's head swirled with thoughts of Mikasa, which pinched his heart, because she was really out of reach. He had no chance with her, and he would have to accept this.

He delivered coffee with a somber expression, stirring latte after latte, eventually getting so exhausted that he asked Levi if he could leave is shift early.

To his surprise, Levi cleared him, seeming to understand he didn't feel well. Maybe there was a heart in there, after all.

He walked home, his legs feeling like goop. All he wanted to do was lie down, and maybe draw something. Thinking about drawing made Jean stop in his tracks, because he had countless of sketchbooks and pages just of Mikasa.

He groaned, leaning against the nearest building. Every part of him ached, and his head felt like it was about to explode.

"Oh my god, Jean, are you okay?!" The familiar voice of Sasha rang in his ears, and Jean forced himself to look up. She was looking at him like a worried mother, rushing over quickly. The boy she'd been walking with paused, his eyes widened upon seeing Jean's slumped over figure.

"Hey, Sasha." Jean greeted, shaking slightly. "I'm just a bit... tired, is all."

She furrowed her brows, "Bullshit!"

Jean winced; she had been his neighbor for years, he wasn't going to get anything past her. The guy who she'd been with scrambled over, his arms full of grocery bags. "Sasha, he looks exhausted." The stranger had black hair, and lots of freckles all over his face and arms. His eyes were warm and brown, like peanut butter.

Jean slumped a bit more, "Who's this?"

"Jean, this is Marco. We're in the drama club together at school. Marco, Jean." Sasha introduced, her eyes still weary.

"Wish I was in better shape to meet you, but I've got a killer headache right now." Jean started to grin, standing up straight. His legs decided right then it was convienient to give out, and he stumbled into Marco's grocery filled arms.

"No worries," Marco said, kindly. "Sasha, let's get this guy to a bench or something."

They managed to shuffle him over to a nearby curb, dropping him awkwardly on his ass. As if his eyes weren't already watering, the pain shot right throuh him, and Jean let out a loud, ugly sniffle. "Ah, fuck." He said, wiping his face.

Sasha knelt next to him, "What happened?" Her brown eyes lit with concern, it almost made him cry harder.

"S'nothing," Jean slurred, curling his knees to his chin. "Really, just... Fuck."

Marco spoke again, his voice gentle. "Sasha, he probably doesn't want to talk about it."

Jean glanced up at him, blinking back his tears. Marco didn't look weirded out, or even like he was going to give Jean pity. He just looked kind, smiling awkwardly at Sasha because his arms were still full of grocery bags, and they were blocking most of his face.

Sasha gave Jean a quick clap on the shoulder, "Okay, but if you're feeling better, I'm aving a party at my place tonight. Drop by, okay?" She smiled brightly, and Jean thought back to the times he'd helped her up after she'd cried. He smiled back.

"I wouldn't miss it," Jean said, starting to stand up. "Sorry about that... Rough night." He rubbed his neck, embarrassed at how pathetic he must have looked.

Marco beamed at him, "I hope to see you at the party, you look like you deserve a night out."

"Shit, that reminds me, we have to pick up Connie!" Sasha yelped, grabbing Marco's elbow. She turned back to Jean, her worries fading. "Please come! We're having potatoes!"

Jean barked out a laugh at the inside joke, and he swore he saw Marco blush at the sound. "Alright, alright, I'll be there."

"Bye, Jean!" Marco called, as Sasha towed him away.

Jean waved back, the throbbing pain in his heart turning into a calm, steady beat. With a heavy sigh, he turned and walked home.

...

Parties at Sasha's place were always pretty wild; Jean remembered last year, Connie Springer, Sasha's best friend, had attempted a keg stand and ended up with a concussion in the hospital.

Heck, Jean had lost his virginity at one of those parties. He didn't even remember her name, but apparently she used to be on the track and field team with Sasha. Jean smirked at the thought of her, maybe he could hook up with somebody else at this party, someone who wasn't gorgeous and half Japanese.

Jean arrived a bit later, when the music in Sasha's house had cranked up, and there were streamers everywhere. Some people where in bundled crowds, some where dancing, and Jean swore he saw a group of people playing Dungeons and Dragons in the corner.

"Jean!" The loud, slightly annoying voice of Connie Springer called out, as he jumped right at Jean with a ridiculous grin. "Glad you could make it, man!"

"Glad to be here," Jean grinned back. He and Connie had always gotten along, and they attended the same high school, so they often sat together during lunch or free period. They were both mutual friends of Armin and Eren, and since he knew Sasha, Jean often saw him outside of school.

Connie's eyes suddenly grew concerned, "I heard about what happened. Dude, if you need anything, I'm here." Connie said, clapping his chest and making a dedicated bro face.

"Thanks," Jean said, lips twitching. "But right now, I just want to have some fun. Any beer?"

"Kitchen!" Connie directed, and he ran off to stop someone from breaking one of Sasha's vases. "Hey! Shithead, put that back!"

In the kitchen, Jean was met by several couples making out. He found the 'punch' bowl, scooping some of it into a plastic cup, and quickly left the smothering enviroment.

In the living room, someone had set up karaoke, and Jean was not surprised to find Sasha there. She had been singing and acting since she could read a script, and Jean supposed the people gathered around the karaoke box where all on the same boat as her.

"Hey," he greeted, sitting on the arm of the couch next to her. Sasha grinned up at him, slapping his knee.

"Alright, Kirschtein is here!" She bellowed, earning some applause from people Jean did not know. "Jean, you should sing!" Sasha giggled, shoving him towards the microphone.

He flushed, "I'm tone-deaf, no thanks." Jean cringed at the memory of the times he'd been forced to sing, his voice was flatter than a ruler.

"It's Marco's turn, anyways!" A random girl said, and Marco stood up from where he'd been curled on the floor. Jean looked at him, smiling a bit.

"Hey," he said, lifting his hand lazily as he sipped his drink.

"Hey, Jean." Marco replied, smiling. It was one of those timid, half smiles, the kind that Jean rarely ever saw. And he pronounced his name right- bonus points.

"Ooh, ooh!" Sasha suddenly sat up, eyes wide and eager. "You should sing Beyoncé!"

Jean almost spat out his drink at how mortified Marco looked, and then the freckled teenager shook his head wildly. "I cannot do her justice!" Marco complained, slapping a hand to his face. "It'd be like trying to redo the Mona Lisa with crayons!"

After a chorus of laughter, somebody suggested that Marco sing something from The Lion King. With a sigh, Marco chose I Just Can't Wait to Be King, the drama nerds giggling all the while. When Jean asked Sasha what was so funny, she told Jean Marco was in an online guild where he was a very loyal servant to a king.

"It's not funny!" The freckled boy whined, shooting Jean an embarrassed look. When the music began, and he sighed and turned back to the lyrics. The party was a little loud, and since Marco was obviously mock singing, Jean couldn't tell if he was that good or not. But he still had a nice voice, it wasn't too high or low, and he smiled when he sang.

Jean watched him, slightly captivated. His fingers were itching, and he was almost surprised with himself. He wanted to draw Marco, he wanted to sketch that smile and those freckles.

As the song ended, Marco was applauded by the group (including Jean, who was still a bit spellbound), and he sat down on the couch between Jean and Sasha.

"You feeling okay?" Marco asked, earning a confused look from Jean. He hurried to add, "I mean, I don't want to pry, but you seemed pretty out of shape this morning."

Frowning, Jean remembered Mikasa clinging to him in tears. "It's nothing, I just... this girl I liked..."

"I get it," Marco said, "It looked like a bad break-up."

Sasha leaned over, wagging her brows. "Marco, are you still talking about that jerk who dumped you? Because you know I'll break his legs."

"His?" Jean echoed, tilting his head.

"Yeah," Marco said, sheepishly. "I'm gay."

Huh

, Jean hadn't expected that. But he wasn't one to discriminate, after all, both his boss and co-worker were gay, and apparently, so was the girl he'd blindly loved for two and a half years. "Oh, okay. Cool."

Marco smiled at him, raising an eyebrow. "You know, most people act surprised."

"I'm not most people," Jean snorted, giving Marco one of his sly grins. When Marco laughed, the edges of his eyes crinkled, and Jean was once again struck with the urge to draw him.

The karaoke started up again, and it soon became difficult to have a conversation. Jean got up to mingle elsewhere, and to his surprise, Marco followed him. He didn't complain, and they had soon gravitated to the backyard, where it was much quieter.

"It gets a bit stuffy in there," Marco mumbled, "With all the weed and pizza."

Jean laughed, "You said it... So, have you and Sasha been friends long?"

Leaning against the house, Marco shrugged. "Well, we've been in some classes together, but we never really hung out until last year's play. And we're the leads in the upcoming one, so we've gotten to know each other through rehersals."

"Wait, if you're the leading roles... Have you two kissed?" Jean asked, trying not to laugh. The idea of Sasha kissing someone like Marco amused him.

Marco giggled (he freaking giggled). "Well, yeah! We have to practise so we don't end up laughing onstage. Trust me, it's all kinds of awkward. Her breath smells like some new sort of food every day!"

"Ha! I'll bet Connie hates your guts." Jean said, trying to picture the mixed kid screaming in a flurry of jealously as Marco macked on his woman.

"Yeah, he's pretty obvious. I'm shocked he and Sasha aren't together." Marco shook his head, "I guess they don't want to risk the friendship."

Jean nodded, "It'd suck to lose that, they're great friends." He thought of Mikasa again, and looked at his feet. "It would really suck."

Marco peeked at him, smiling in a comforting way. "I like you, Jean. Let's be friends."

"Huh?" Jean leaned back, shocked. "You want to be friends with some weak, lazy asshole like me? You saw me collaspe in the street, and you want to be friends with me?"

"So long as you don't mind my overbearing kindness, yes." Marco said, beaming yet again. "I've been told I'm so nice, it's annoying."

Jean's thoughts went to Armin, and he chuckled. "I need more annoyingly nice people in my life."

They exchanged phone numbers. Jean resisted the urge to text him as soon as he left the party, not wanting to seem clingy. Truth be told, he had never been good at making friends.

But Marco seemed nice.

...

School became slightly more bearable with Marco's texts between classes.

Sasha just burped the alphabet. I think Conie's in love.

From: Marco

Jean coughed laughter into his hand, his science class forgotten.

lol, he's a lucky guy. but, ew.

From: Jean

He hid his phone as the teacher turned around, her boring voice carrying out a dull rhythm. His fingers twitched as his phone vibrated, and Jean fumbled to unlock it. He hadn't beejn this excited to text anyone since... ever, really.

I have to kiss her in rehersals. She just ate a turkey sub with mayonaise. Jesus, save me now.

From: Marco

Jean laughed so hard he had to stay after class and help the teacher clean up.