Hey everyone! So this is a collection of Jean X Marco drabbles. This will be following along the same set of prompts (in the same order) as as two other drabble collections (Unbowed - Jet/Zuko; ATLA & Unbent - Black Star/Death the Kid; Soul Eater) so check those two out if you're interested. My goal is to update this every three days, but I make no promises. A full explanation of what I plan on doing with these collections can be found at the bottom of my profile.

As always, other info on what I'm currently working on can be found in my profile as well!

The title of the collection is taken from Game of Thrones. "Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken" are the house words of House Martell.

I went with an M rating overall because nearly everything I publish is like that, but I'll be putting chapter-specific ratings and warnings just to make sure people know. Also, none of these (unless explicitly stated) are intended to be set in relation to each other, but if you see a connection or like to think of them that way, then please do. Just know that I don't promise to keep them all together in a way that makes sense, because for me, they're typically not going to be connected.

Feel free to comment with new prompt ideas or critiques of any kind. :)

Chapter Rating: Tentative M
Chapter Warning: Just implied stuff. No depictions of anything, but like, I dunno, being cautious I guess. Also, some f-bombs are in there.
World: Canonical, set during training
Word Count: 1194

And without further ado...

One: Clothes Swap

"Wake up, maggots!"

Instructor Shadis's voice had Jean bolting upright in bed. Or, well, the floor of the shed that was several dozen yards behind their actual housing. It took him a moment to get his bearings, remembering where he was (and why, eesh) and scrambling as he heard the instructor's voice again, faded only due to distance.

Jean groaned, wiping a hand over his face. How was it morning already? It was still dark in the shed, not much light coming in through the windows. Ah, so it wasn't really morning. Not for normal, functioning people anyway.

Jean heard Shadis say something about 'two minutes to…' do something he couldn't hear, apparently. With a muttered curse, he began fumbling around for his clothes.

Beside him, Marco was still sound asleep. Jesus, that boy slept like he was dead. Jean grabbed his shoulder, rustling him roughly. "Marco, get up. C'mon Marco, Shadis is gonna find us and rip us a new one," he said, keeping his voice hushed out of misplaced paranoia of being caught.

Marco mumbled something in his sleep, turning to nuzzle into Jean's hand. Jean sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. Christ, this boy would be the death of him some day. "Alright, fine. Stay here and sleep all day, but when Shadis asks, I'm selling you out," he grumbled. But of course Jean couldn't actually do that.

He shook Marco a little harder and spoke up this time. "Marco, get up. Let's go, buddy."

Finally, Marco's eyes blinked open blearily and he looked up at Jean in a daze. "...Jean?" he said, voice thick with sleep and sounding so very small.

Ugh. It's like he was trying to kill Jean.

"Yeah. Hey. Good morning, Sunshine. Get your freckled butt up and get dressed or we're gonna have our asses handed to us on platters," Jean said, getting to his feet to pull on his underwear and his pants.

Marco simply smiled up at him, taking his time as he followed suit. "Marco, have you seen my shirt?" Jean asked at one point, while he was fumbling with the straps of his uniform in the semi-darkness.

Marco looked around, rubbing his eyes to try to focus them. He grabbed the shirt in front of him and tossed it to Jean, who took it with an incoherent grunt of thanks.

Jean quickly buttoned it over his chest, stuffing the end of his shirt into his pants as he pulled straps over his shoulders, looking over his shoulder to check on Marco, who was taking his sweet time and fumbling in the dark.

Jean sighed, shoving his boots on and marching over to Marco. He began furiously straightening his collar and buttoning his shirt for him, beginning to hear the scramble of the other trainees outside.

"Seriously Marco, wake yourself up," Jean muttered. Marco simply laughed sleepily at him and then yawned.

Jean clenched his teeth and forced himself not to roll his eyes as he focused on his rushed hands doing up Marco's shirt.

He kicked Marco's boots toward him and the freckled boy began putting them on leisurely, fucking leisurely like they had time.

Jean busied himself with the straps of Marco's uniform, working around how Marco was hunched to put on his boots. When he'd finished with the straps, Jean ran his hands through Marco's hair, attempting to flatten the mess of cowlicks.

"Alright, c'mon, we're about out of time," Jean said, steering Marco toward the door by his shoulders. He handed the boy his jacket and the two of them were shrugging into the tan coats as they stepped outside to the dim light of dawn.

As they fell in line, Jean fidgeted uncomfortably. His clothing felt too loose in an annoying way. Shadis droned on and on until Jean stopped even hearing him, still groggy and half asleep.

Marco stood behind him, eyes only half open and Jean would've sworn that he saw him squirming in discomfort too.

Apparently he wasn't the only one because he felt Reiner jab him in the ribs and then he whispered, "What's wrong with you two?"

Jean mumbled something noncommittal in response, shrugging. He honestly didn't know. They were just tired, he supposed.

Shadis was pacing in front of them until he stopped in front of Marco, who Jean could've been convinced was actually asleep right there.

"Bodt!" the instructor's voice was head-splittingly loud right next to Jean and he could only imagine how Marco felt as he stuttered out a meek "yessir." "You wanna tell me why you're twitching like a goddamn baby snake trying to crawl out of a wet sock?!"

Marco's eyes snapped wide as words were shouted in his face. Jean had no idea what sort of analogy that was supposed to be but Marco seemed to take it with good grace. "Uh, I'm not sure sir."

"Not sure eh?!" Instructor Shadis shouted. Marco simply shrugged and Jean's eyebrows pulled together, wondering just what exactly the instructor was getting at. Then again, he'd basically zoned out for the past few minutes and had missed any sort of explanation as to why they were up so goddamn early too.

"I could tell you, sir."

And it was Eren fucking Jaeger who piped up. Jean turned slightly to look at him, standing at attention on the other side of Marco. Armin was next to him and was giving him a look that said don't do it Eren.

"Oh? Please, enlighten me, Jaeger," Shadis said.

"Well, sir, he's got Jean's clothes on."

…

Jean was suspended in a moment. A moment when he stared at Eren, thoroughly confused by what he meant. And then that moment snapped and he was looking down at himself, seeing a crisp white shirt in place of his usual green and the name "Bodt" on the pocket of his jacket.

Jean could feel the embarrassment start pricking at him as he dared to peek at Marco who was also looking down at himself, fingers tracing over where it said "Kirstein" and a hot blush racing to his face.

Shadis said nothing about this, simply watched the two of them squirm under his stare before he turned and started pacing away, presumably to begin shouting at the lot of them again. Something in his stare told Jean he knew exactly what was going on here. Shit.

Then, that obnoxious voice was cutting through the stunned silence again and by God he was fucking singing.

"Jean and Marco sitting in a tr-"

"I swear to god I'll kill you Jaeger!" Jean was shouting before he could even finish.

And he would've, if not for Reiner taking hold of his arms from behind and Marco turning to push against his chest, the two of them effectively keeping him away from Eren.

Despite this, Reiner was chuckling in his ear, Connie and Sasha were giggling behind their hands, even Bert and Armin were trying not to grin. Eren's smug fucking face grinned at him over Marco's shoulder.

And in the middle of it all was Marco's sheepish little smile as he flattened Jean's lapels.

Damn it, Bodt. Have you no shame?