Chapter Summary: In which Marco makes a re-appearance, and Jean manages to talk with him. Somewhat. If you can consider that a conversation.
Step Two: Grind the Beans
The problem about confiding in Armin Arlelt is that he is also Eren Jaegar's best friend and, as such, he is more inclined to view the catastrophe in a balanced manner. But even if he's not on Jean's side, he thinks Armin will never be so petty as to always take Eren's side. Armin is a reasonable, sensible person. To this day Jean has never figured out why Armin chose to hang out with Eren, and since he cannot quite figure it out, he'll just put it down as Eren being not only the most bloody-minded git the world has ever seen, but also a manipulative bloody-minded git.
It also means that before Jean had thought of approaching Armin for advice, Eren had likely already told Armin the story. Armin's expression as Jean marches to him now is a mix of amusement and dread, smothered over by an attempt at neutrality when Jean is closer. He gathers his papers and books and places them in his bag. Thank goodness that in the sprawling campus, he has chosen a little nook nobody ever visits – it means Jean will be able to rant in peace.
Jean slides a take-away coffee over the table the same time he says, "Eren is an asshole."
Armin sighs and accepts the coffee. "When is he not?" he says in a patient, let's-humour-the-lovesick-fool way.
Jean takes that as his sign to launch into a self-righteous rant. Armin is the perfect listener. He sips his coffee, nods in the right places, makes sympathetic noises, and seems to fully understand the importance of how angelic Marco is, how Jean and him will become a match made in heaven, how Jean is the only one who will make a perfect cup of cappuccino for him complete with award-winning coffee art, and above all how Eren will never ever be able to top Jean when it comes to romance.
Armin bites his lip so hard it's like he's going to draw blood. For a while Jean is concerned, but Armin waves away his worries and takes another sip of coffee, ducking down to let his fringe hide his eyes, his shoulders shaking. It's probably just him being overwhelmed by the thought of how perfect Marco and Jean will be together. Jean takes his reaction as an invitation to further sketch out the perfection of Marco. He takes pains to elaborate on how Eren, blunt and harsh and annoyingly stubborn, will never be able to understand how Marco needs a sensitive man like Jean.
The whole story, from Marco's first step into the café, down to the important details like the cute cat Jean had drawn, to the end when Eren demonstrated the extent to which he can be an evil prick, took half an hour with few pauses on Jean's part and a lot of nodding on Armin's part. Jean's coffee also went cold by the end.
"Oh my god," Armin says in a small voice. Jean drinks his coffee and makes a face at it. Armin's lips twitch like they're not sure whether to smile or just let loose a round of laughter. "That's quite a story."
"Isn't it? The next time Marco visits – oh god, what should I do the next time he visits?" Jean says, his eyes wide. "Eren is bound to be a little shit again."
Armin coughs. "You guys don't always have the same shifts."
"You're right. I should find a pattern in when Marco comes to the café, and then arrange my shifts according to that!" That's why talking to Armin is a good idea – it sparks off ideas and makes Jean giddy at his own brilliance.
"Jean, the guy visited twice."
"Exactly! Last Friday at three, and then yesterday at two. So he comes in the afternoons and…oh…" He deflates a little when he realizes there's no definite pattern to Marco's visits. "Well, he might come again on Friday?"
"And Eren has a shift with you then, because he has Friday afternoons off," Armin points out.
"Can't you arrange something with him? Make it so he's not there?" Jean says. He had hoped the coffee will sweet talk Armin into giving him some advice and also being his partner in crime. No, wait, his partner in not-crime. His partner in orchestrating the greatest love affair the world will ever see.
"I have classes, Jean."
Well, that hope is dashed quickly enough.
"Um, how about Mikasa?"
"Jean…Mikasa and I have the same class," Armin says slowly. He seems apologetic when Jean's face falls. "Look, I'll talk to Eren, maybe get him to, um, give you a chance to talk to Marco? Only this time, please don't make anymore Marco Polo jokes. Please. Please."
Armin looks pained. Jean wonders why everyone is so huffy about his stroke of genius. Nobody has any decent sense of humour left. "Fine, I won't, okay?"
"Please make sure you don't. And just tell him you like him, for god's sake."
That's it? That's Armin's plan? "You don't just go up to someone and tell them that you have a crush on them!" he yelps.
"Why not? You did that with Mikasa last time," Armin says.
"That was when we were fifteen and idiotic!"
He swears he can hear Armin mutter "not that there's much difference now". Jean decides this corruption of Armin's personality is all Eren's fault, as everything always is.
"Armin, are you on my side or not? Help me!"
"I'm on nobody's side. And I am trying – Jean, just go up to Marco and tell him you'd like very much to know him more. I haven't met the guy but if he's as, uh, angelic as you say he is…he'll at least hear you out."
"But – but – " Jean had been thinking of something more detailed. Like roses, bunches and bunches of roses. Or something cheerful like sunflowers. Maybe if he asks Nanaba he can get away with decorating the café in fragrant flowers that will surely make Marco smile.
"Stop." Armin's lips twitch again. "Don't overthink it. Just talk to him. Be normal. You can save the romance for later."
"First impressions count though," Jean says.
Armin chokes on his saliva then and has to cough a few times to clear it. As kindly as he can, he says, "I'm afraid his first impression of you may not have been very, uh, memorable. It's more like trying to repair the damage now."
"What damage?" Jean asks, genuinely confused.
Armin makes a face then. It's the "I'm talking to an idiot" face. Jean thinks he should feel insulted, but it's Armin, Armin does that even to his best friends on occasions, and it's hard to get pissed off at him when the guy is trying to help him. Armin's tone becomes stern when he says, "Jean. Talk to him like a normal person. Don't make jokes. Ask him whether he's a student, what book he's reading, whatever you like, as long as it's not creepy. Not too creepy."
Jean has doubts. But if Armin, the smartest guy he knows, dishes out this advice, then he decides he'll take it. Didn't he say the romance can wait? And in any case Jean needs time to find a good florist to supply him with the largest number of sunflowers possible. "Thanks man. I'll let you know how it goes."
Armin hums and says, under his breath, "I don't doubt you will."
.
He thinks maybe he should get into a religion. Find a good god to pray to. Whatever gods are watching over him now, they're probably laughing and nudging each other aside for the best view. Maybe sharing a large bucket of popcorn.
Because Marco had walked into the café on a sunny, busy Friday afternoon while he and Nanaba are making four lattes and two espressos. Jean knows because the tinkling of the bells had announced an angel's arrival and he had seen, out of the corner of his eye, that perfect hair parted over a perfect forehead. But the gods have planned this – Eren is handling the register, and Jean must have killed someone in his past life because the gods apparently refuse to let him get laid.
"Jean," Nanaba hisses out of the corner of his mouth. "That's more than enough milk."
"Sorry," Jean mutters and his hand stops. The orders are flashing in the screen in front of them as Eren keys them in and the line inches forward. The café is nearly full today because of the anniversary twenty percent discount, and almost all staff are on hand to deal with the flood of customers. Jean thinks, his heart sinking, that Marco is going to get take-away coffee, and he'll only be able to speak to him for a minute, maybe two if he's lucky. Or maybe not at all, judging from the number of orders. And the fact that Nanaba, usually sweet and lenient to his juniors, will not hesitate to pull him back by the ear if he's taking too long to deliver the drinks.
"I've got the matcha," Gerger announces, using his hip to bump open the door.
Nanaba sighs in relief. "Three matcha lattes incoming."
"Gotcha."
It's almost too crowded at the work station, but with some quick arrangement they're all able to reach the milk, coffee, sugar, chocolate, and whatever else easily enough. Jean is forced to focus on whisking and blending and pouring for a while until he hears, from the direction of the register,
"Hello, what would you like?"
"Hi, Eren."
Jean nearly crushes the cup in his hand. Nanaba makes a sound of panic and manages to salvage the drink from his hand. "Jean!"
Jean isn't able to reply. "Kid, a fly's gonna get in if yer don't shut yer mouth," Gerger says with a laugh.
"This isn't the time for epiphanies," Nanaba scolds. He holds his hand out and Gerger places the bottle of chocolate syrup in it. "Jean, go deliver the drinks."
Why does Marco know Eren's name? More importantly, why does Marco sound so happy? Jean whimpers and barely notices when Gerger shoves a tray of drinks into his hands and pushes him to the waiting area. He somehow manages to do his job of passing the drinks to the correct people, only because he needs to get back as fast as he can to find out more.
Of course, because the gods are watching a soap opera, when he gets back he finds Marco had already placed his order. The "cappuccino" order is flashing on the screen.
"I'll take the cappuccino," he says to Nanaba and Gerger.
"After you've finished the frapps," Nanaba says, looking and sounding less tense now that the orders have slowed down.
"Deal."
"What's so special about this cappuccino?" Gerger asks. It's a reasonable question, since Jean and Eren tend to just make what their seniors tell them to during rush hours.
"Oh, nothing," Jean says with an attempt at nonchalance. "Just wanted to practice making it a bit more."
"Jean wants to make it for his not-boyfriend."
Jean growls. Nanaba beams. "There you are, Eren! No one else in the line? The mochas are all yours."
"Sure," Eren says, smirking in Jean's direction. Jean decides to focus all his energy on a mental image of strangling Eren by the strings of his aprons. With that image in mind he starts making the frappuccinos as fast as he can.
"What's this about a not-boyfriend, hmm?" Gerger asks with a badly concealed grin.
"You sound like a pervert, Gerger." Nanaba rolls his eyes then asks, "So what is it about?"
"Like yer much better."
"Healthy curiosity on my part."
"Jean is crushing on a customer," Eren replies, ignoring Jean sputtering in the background.
"Oooooh." The twinkle in Nanaba's eye is not a good sign. Knowing him he's going to poke his nose into this and tease for all it's worth. "Who's the guy then?"
"I thought fer sure you two had something going on," Gerger says, sounding disappointed.
"Who?" Eren asks. For once he and Jean have the same look of confusion.
"Ne'ermind. So who's the kid?"
"Black hair, freckles, mm, a bit taller than Jean. Nice eyes."
This is why Eren cannot do romance. Jean is just choosing not to say anything, because he had finished his frappuccinos and is moving on to the star of the day, the cappuccino with Marco's name written all over it. If it is up to Jean, he would have said "the guy with the constellation of freckles on his high cheekbones, smooth hair carefully parted in the middle, eyes twinkling with confidence and humour, shy smile and boyish laughter". That is a more befitting description of Marco.
"I have to see who this is." Nanaba grabs the prepared drinks and places it on the tray. He winks at Jean before heading over to the customers.
"Uh oh," Gerger deadpans. "Nanaba's curious."
Eren hums and does some coffee art of his own on the mochas. Jean spies from the corner of his eye that Eren is drawing an intricate leaf. Well, he won't be outdone. He makes sure his cat is as cute as it was last time, then Marco will know, for sure, that it's him.
"He's cute," Nanaba declares when he comes back. "I approve. Have you talked to him yet?"
Before Jean can say anything Eren laughs and says, "His name is Marco. And Jean called him Marco Polo."
"You didn't." Nanaba looks horrified as he turns to stare at Jean.
"You did." Gerger seems like he's about to bust a rib from trying not to laugh.
"Come on, you have to admit it was funny!" Jean says, lifting his eyes only after he's sure his cat is perfect. He crosses his arms when Nanaba's look of horror does not abate. "What?"
Nanaba points a finger in Jean's face, making him jump. "You. You are going to go there now, with this cappuccino, and you're going to talk to him. You're not allowed back until you've had a conversation that does not involve dumb jokes."
"Not making dumb jokes is physically impossible for him," Eren says, sweeping past with his batch of mochas.
"That may be so – " Jean wants to yelp with the injustice of it all – "but you're going to try, aren't you, Jean?"
"Nanaba's inner romantic is coming out," Gerger says in a stage whisper. "Better do as he says."
"I, um – " Jean clears his throat with an attempt at suave unconcern. "Yeah. Right, yes." The cappuccino with the cat seems to wink at him, like it's encouraging him on. You know Marco will love me, then you'll get his number, the cat seems to say as its smile wavers in the foam.
This is it. This is the moment. When Armin had somehow convinced Eren to give him some space to talk to Marco, when Nanaba has thwarted the gods' attempt in preventing him from getting laid, when his cappuccino is more perfect than ever. Jean wipes his sweaty palms on his pants and takes that one precious cup of coffee, tries not to trip over himself as he makes his way to the counter. Eren passes him on the way back and mutters, as some sort of encouragement, "Don't spill the coffee, goddamnit."
Jean is so nervous he doesn't think of replying. Because waiting for his coffee and reading a book is Marco. Marco. Who looks up and gives a small smile at Jean when he sees the coffee in his hand.
"Thank you, Jean."
In that moment Jean swears his mind explodes. The noise of the café fades away into nothing. He has found his new favourite word. His name, said in Marco's voice. It echoes in his mind, like it had been shouted into a mountain range. Jean, Jean, Jea –
Distantly he's aware that Marco has tilted his head and is asking something. Something like, "um, excuse me?" It manages to shock him into thinking something other than "you sound like clear bells at midnight".
"How – how do you know my name?" Jean manages to ask.
Great. That's not what he had planned to say. He had planned to make some smart statement on the book Marco's reading (War and Peace and War, what?). Marco looks at him like he's not quite right in the head, and he points at Jean's chest and says, "Um, your nametag?"
Oh. That's right. Nanaba had these made for them. For a moment he's elated – so Marco did not know Eren's name beforehand, hah, take that! Then it crashes into disappointment, because Marco knowing his name does not have any special meaning then.
His emotions must have played out on his face – Marco looks at him for a while then says, "You're a funny guy, Jean."
Jean hopes his voice does not crack when he says, "What?" Eloquence at its finest there. Did Marco just compliment him? He'll take it as a compliment, because Marco has a tiny smile. "Um."
"I'll have my coffee, please?"
Jean looks down to find he is still holding the coffee. "Oh. Oh, uh, yeah." He hands the coffee over and feels the brief brush of Marco's fingers against his. Oh lord. It's Marco's fingers, soft and – is that a callous? Does he play the guitar? Practice fencing? Baseball? What left that callous there? How is it going to feel like on his –
"Thanks."
Then Marco is leaving. Marco is leaving and all Jean had managed to ask was a stupid question, followed by lots of pointless stuttering. Nanaba will be doubly horrified. Eren will laugh, that smug bastard. And Jean will never get his number.
It's the last thought that prompts him to blurt out "Marco!" It stops Marco in his tracks and attracts the attention of half the café. He turns around with a questioning expression on his face.
"Yes?"
Jean doesn't know what to say. All he had known was that he couldn't let the conversation end there. What should he talk about? Ask for Marco's number? Talk about the book?
In a state of great confusion his mind focuses on the cup in Marco's grip. "The, um, the foam cat. Do you like it?"
He hears somebody snicker. That is unimportant compared to Marco's blank stare. Then he lifts the lid and peers at the coffee. "Oh. It's nice. You did this the last time too?"
Marco remembers the cat. Jean feels like he could die now and he'll be happy. Except not really, because he has yet to get Marco's number. "Yeah."
"Cool. Thanks."
Then before Jean could say anything more Marco really does walk out of the café, the tinkling of the bells signaling an angel's departure. The second he does, Nanaba grabs Jean by the neck of his apron and drags him back, nearly choking him. Gerger had dissolved into raucous laughter behind the counter. Jean registers this in a haze – what has just happened?
"Oh, Jean," Nanaba murmurs in an amused and pitying way. He smoothes Jean's apron and mutters apologies for choking him.
"He knows my name," Jean says in an awed whisper.
Gerger wheezes and gives up trying to hold in his laughter. With the show over, most of the café patrons go back to minding their own business, ignoring Gerger's roars of amusement.
"He seems like a nice guy," Nanaba says, managing to make himself heard over the noise.
"That was lame." Eren's voice, grating and annoying, cuts through the haze of Jean's mind.
"Shut up, Jaegar," Jean replies on autopilot, his mind still stuck on the way Marco had said his name.
"Eren," Nanaba says, effectively delivering a warning with one word. Eren mimes zipping his mouth shut. "Well, at least you, uh, spoke to him. Without dumb jokes."
"I'll say, that was the funniest shit I've ever seen. If only I had a drink to go with that." It seems like Gerger had managed to drag himself up from the ground and was speaking with only the occasional choked chuckle. "Yer really like him, huh?"
"I'd say that's obvious," Nanaba says. He pats Jean's shoulder and asks, "Jean, are you with us?"
"Yeah," Jean breathes. Of course he is. He couldn't be anywhere else but in this perfect world where Marco had said Jean's name, had noticed and complimented his cat. This is so beautiful, Jean, the Marco in his mind says, with a bright beam and eyes that are glistening, we'll have to go out together now, let me tell you all about the twelve children we'll have together.
"He's not," Gerger says as he begins to arrange the ingredients now that the rush has died down for a while. Nanaba waves a hand in front of Jean's eyes, is met with a blissful expression and an unfocused gaze, and is forced to agree with Gerger's assessment. Gerger chuckles again and says, "Jean, take a break now. Eren, help me clean this up – oh, you dropped something?"
"Hmm?" Eren had wandered off to wipe the counter down. Not that Jean really cares, since the world is a wonderful mist now where only his conversation with Marco matters. As well as thoughts of the wonderful future they'll have together. The tiny part of his mind that is still conscious of his surroundings sits up and takes note when Eren looks back at Gerger examining the card. A card with his name scrawled on it. "Oh yeah, sorry, I didn't want to lose it, so I placed it on the counter."
"No prob – hey," Gerger squints at the name at the end of the card and stays silent for a while before he says, quiet in a way that captures all their attention, "isn't this from the Marco guy?"
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