A/N: Hello! This is my first SNK fanfiction. I wrote this for an amazing friend who introduced me to the show since her OTP is Jeanmarco. Enjoy!
"Fuck."
It was Sunday. Most of the officers in the military police would sleep in on this day, but Jean's sleep had been disturbed by the oddly harsh light shining through the window.
"What is it, Jean?"
"It's… gross outside. Go back to bed, Marco. For the next few months." Jean sank back onto the bed and hid his face in his hands. "Gross."
Marco knew better than to press his friend, so he got up and walked lazily to the window, ruffling Jean's hair as he passed.
"Look, Jean! It's winter! There's snow!" Marco said, his excitement briefly driving Jean's misery from his mind. He opened the window and leaned out to scrape the windowsill with his finger, licking off the snow that stuck there.
"Will you fucking shut that!? I can't believe this. Why me?" Jean slumped sideways and lay staring despondently at the wall. "Why did this happen?"
"I don't think winter is a phenomenon uniquely experienced by you, Jean. And… I can't understand your reaction to it… Why are you so upset?"
"It's cold. It's cold. It's cold… and it's slippery. And wet. And bleak. And cold."
"…And beautiful," Marco said. He frowned out the window.
"The way Mikasa is beautiful. It might look nice, but it's frigid and unwelcoming and can only break your heart. And your arm, if you fall."
"Jean!"
"It's true! I don't want any part of it."
"But… it's no fun to make a snowman alone…"
Jean sat up straight again. Suddenly he felt like taking his words back. All the excitement had gone from Marco's voice.
"Well… if… maybe… maybe we could build one snowman. Once. If you want. If it'd make you happy."
Marco spun around, leaned against the windowsill and steepled his fingers together in front of his nose. There was scheming in his eyes. "We're going to have a lot of fun this winter, Jean."
"What? Hey… you jerk! I thought you were sad!"
Marco leaned his face down to Jean's level and cupped Jean's chin with one hand.
"Let's make a deal."
"Uh…."
Marco laid a finger over Jean's lips.
"If I can make you love winter in one week… You have to make me dinner. A nice dinner. And you have to do whatever I say afterward."
Jean's breath caught in his throat, and he pulled away. "And… if you can't?"
"Well then. I guess you win." The innocent façade was back up. "What would you like to do if you win?"
Jean could only stare.
"Come on, you. I only have a week to make you love winter. We should get started. Not that I think I have a chance of failing. Let's go get bundled up!"
"I don't understand where we're going. Or what that is you're holding. And I'm cold." Jean stuffed his gloved hands deeper into his pockets.
"This is the sled I've used since I was little. It's pretty small… but if we snuggle together I bet we'll both fit on it." Marco looked with pride at the sled under his arm. "My dad made it."
"What's it for?"
"Jean, you like to go fast, right? When we were learning how to use the 3DMG you were always flying around like a maniac. You'll like this. To use the sled, you sit on it and slide down a hill."
"That sounds… like a bundle of fun."
"No, really, it is! You've just got to try it. I promise, you'll love it."
Wall Shina was built around a hill, so that the castle of the King sat atop the hill right in the center with a view of everything else around it. Though the hill was gradual towards the wall, as one approached the castle it became very steep.
"We're taking the sled to the king? What are you going to do, invite him along?"
"No, silly. We're not going to the king. We're going to the hill."
"We're going to slide down that hill on that piece of wood? That hill? Are you sure that's… survivable?"
Standing at the base, the hill seemed nearly vertical, and studded with trees.
"Come on, Jean, we're among the top ten titan fighters in our class. I think we can handle a hill and a few trees. Unless you want me to go alone first to prove it to you?"
Jean had a sudden vision of Marco spiraling alone, out of control, down the hill.
"No, I'll go with you. But you know, you're the only one I'd follow into danger for a plan this stupid."
"Don't I feel special!" Marco linked his arm through Jean's and they started up the hill.
"Marco… Maybe we should just turn around."
The hill that had looked daunting from the base looked deadly from the top. Marco was settling the sled into a snowbank at the steepest part he could find.
"We are turning around. There's only one problem…"
"What is it?"
"I think… one of us will definitely have to sit on the other's lap."
"Marco…"
"I swear it'll be fun, Jean! Please just trust me?"
"Alright. Only you."
"Can I sit on your lap, Jean?"
Jean smiled and sat down on the sled, trying to get comfortable. His whole body was shaking. Marco settled down on his lap.
"It's going to be fun, trust me."
Jean could only nod. Marco gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and they were off.
The trees were farther apart than they'd seemed from the top of the hill, and easy to avoid. Every time they hit a bump, Marco threw his hands up, trusting Jean to hold onto him so he didn't fall off the sled. By the time they reached the middle, both men were laughing and screaming. As the hill began to level out, Marco suddenly tackled Jean and they tumbled the rest of the way in each other's arms.
They lay at the bottom, cuddling and out of breath. Marco pulled away after a short while and stared at Jean with one eyebrow raised.
"Shut up Marco. That was… alright."
Jean put up feeble protest against the second trip down, but after the third trip had dropped all pretense of being afraid. After a few more runs he even stopped trying to pretend he wasn't enjoying himself. By suppertime, they'd worn a track up the hill with their footsteps, and lost track of the number of times they'd sledded down. Marco was so exhausted he could barely stand, but tried to heave up the sled onto his shoulder for the trip home.
"I don't think so," Jean said, and tossed the sled by the strap over his shoulder. The walk back seemed infinitely longer. At the threshold Marco stopped.
"I can't do it, Jean. I can't go on."
"Come on, Marco, just a few more steps!"
Marco leaned wearily against the doorframe. "Jean, I'm just so tired… won't you carry me?"
"All right, you manipulative little shit. Just this once." When he picked Marco up, he noticed some un-melted snowflakes still stuck in his eyelashes, and kissed him once on each eye. "Help me with dinner?"
He set Marco down on the kitchen counter and stowed the sled away in the basement. When he got back Marco was already at work on a dinner of chicken and rice.
"Do I win yet?"
"Not even close. We could have died. It was exhilarating… but I don't think it quite merits changing my attitude on the entire season. Keep trying though."
"Don't worry," Marco said. "I will. And I will win."
"Yeah, whatever you say," Jean said, and hugged Marco from behind as he stirred the rice. "I look forward to it."
"Fuck."
It was Sunday. Most of the officers in the military police would sleep in on this day, but Jean's sleep had been disturbed by the oddly harsh light shining through the window.
"What is it, Jean?"
"It's… gross outside. Go back to bed, Marco. For the next few months." Jean sank back onto the bed and hid his face in his hands. "Gross."
Marco knew better than to press his friend, so he got up and walked lazily to the window, ruffling Jean's hair as he passed.
"Look, Jean! It's winter! There's snow!" Marco said, his excitement briefly driving Jean's misery from his mind. He opened the window and leaned out to scrape the windowsill with his finger, licking off the snow that stuck there.
"Will you fucking shut that!? I can't believe this. Why me?" Jean slumped sideways and lay staring despondently at the wall. "Why did this happen?"
"I don't think winter is a phenomenon uniquely experienced by you, Jean. And… I can't understand your reaction to it… Why are you so upset?"
"It's cold. It's cold. It's cold… and it's slippery. And wet. And bleak. And cold."
"…And beautiful," Marco said. He frowned out the window.
"The way Mikasa is beautiful. It might look nice, but it's frigid and unwelcoming and can only break your heart. And your arm, if you fall."
"Jean!"
"It's true! I don't want any part of it."
"But… it's no fun to make a snowman alone…"
Jean sat up straight again. Suddenly he felt like taking his words back. All the excitement had gone from Marco's voice.
"Well… if… maybe… maybe we could build one snowman. Once. If you want. If it'd make you happy."
Marco spun around, leaned against the windowsill and steepled his fingers together in front of his nose. There was scheming in his eyes. "We're going to have a lot of fun this winter, Jean."
"What? Hey… you jerk! I thought you were sad!"
Marco leaned his face down to Jean's level and cupped Jean's chin with one hand.
"Let's make a deal."
"Uh…."
Marco laid a finger over Jean's lips.
"If I can make you love winter in one week… You have to make me dinner. A nice dinner. And you have to do whatever I say afterward."
Jean's breath caught in his throat, and he pulled away. "And… if you can't?"
"Well then. I guess you win." The innocent façade was back up. "What would you like to do if you win?"
Jean could only stare.
"Come on, you. I only have a week to make you love winter. We should get started. Not that I think I have a chance of failing. Let's go get bundled up!"
"I don't understand where we're going. Or what that is you're holding. And I'm cold." Jean stuffed his gloved hands deeper into his pockets.
"This is the sled I've used since I was little. It's pretty small… but if we snuggle together I bet we'll both fit on it." Marco looked with pride at the sled under his arm. "My dad made it."
"What's it for?"
"Jean, you like to go fast, right? When we were learning how to use the 3DMG you were always flying around like a maniac. You'll like this. To use the sled, you sit on it and slide down a hill."
"That sounds… like a bundle of fun."
"No, really, it is! You've just got to try it. I promise, you'll love it."
Wall Shina was built around a hill, so that the castle of the King sat atop the hill right in the center with a view of everything else around it. Though the hill was gradual towards the wall, as one approached the castle it became very steep.
"We're taking the sled to the king? What are you going to do, invite him along?"
"No, silly. We're not going to the king. We're going to the hill."
"We're going to slide down that hill on that piece of wood? That hill? Are you sure that's… survivable?"
Standing at the base, the hill seemed nearly vertical, and studded with trees.
"Come on, Jean, we're among the top ten titan fighters in our class. I think we can handle a hill and a few trees. Unless you want me to go alone first to prove it to you?"
Jean had a sudden vision of Marco spiraling alone, out of control, down the hill.
"No, I'll go with you. But you know, you're the only one I'd follow into danger for a plan this stupid."
"Don't I feel special!" Marco linked his arm through Jean's and they started up the hill.
"Marco… Maybe we should just turn around."
The hill that had looked daunting from the base looked deadly from the top. Marco was settling the sled into a snowbank at the steepest part he could find.
"We are turning around. There's only one problem…"
"What is it?"
"I think… one of us will definitely have to sit on the other's lap."
"Marco…"
"I swear it'll be fun, Jean! Please just trust me?"
"Alright. Only you."
"Can I sit on your lap, Jean?"
Jean smiled and sat down on the sled, trying to get comfortable. His whole body was shaking. Marco settled down on his lap.
"It's going to be fun, trust me."
Jean could only nod. Marco gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and they were off.
The trees were farther apart than they'd seemed from the top of the hill, and easy to avoid. Every time they hit a bump, Marco threw his hands up, trusting Jean to hold onto him so he didn't fall off the sled. By the time they reached the middle, both men were laughing and screaming. As the hill began to level out, Marco suddenly tackled Jean and they tumbled the rest of the way in each other's arms.
They lay at the bottom, cuddling and out of breath. Marco pulled away after a short while and stared at Jean with one eyebrow raised.
"Shut up Marco. That was… alright."
Jean put up feeble protest against the second trip down, but after the third trip had dropped all pretense of being afraid. After a few more runs he even stopped trying to pretend he wasn't enjoying himself. By suppertime, they'd worn a track up the hill with their footsteps, and lost track of the number of times they'd sledded down. Marco was so exhausted he could barely stand, but tried to heave up the sled onto his shoulder for the trip home.
"I don't think so," Jean said, and tossed the sled by the strap over his shoulder. The walk back seemed infinitely longer. At the threshold Marco stopped.
"I can't do it, Jean. I can't go on."
"Come on, Marco, just a few more steps!"
Marco leaned wearily against the doorframe. "Jean, I'm just so tired… won't you carry me?"
"All right, you manipulative little shit. Just this once." When he picked Marco up, he noticed some un-melted snowflakes still stuck in his eyelashes, and kissed him once on each eye. "Help me with dinner?"
He set Marco down on the kitchen counter and stowed the sled away in the basement. When he got back Marco was already at work on a dinner of chicken and rice.
"Do I win yet?"
"Not even close. We could have died. It was exhilarating… but I don't think it quite merits changing my attitude on the entire season. Keep trying though."
"Don't worry," Marco said. "I will. And I will win."
"Yeah, whatever you say," Jean said, and hugged Marco from behind as he stirred the rice. "I look forward to it."