A/N- Aye you lil' fucks, I see all you guys fav'ing and following this story.
However, reviews are just as well liked ;3 They help with the ideas and the layout of the next chapter when you tell me what you like and ESPECIALLY what you THINK. That really gets me going~ *throws cookies at all of you* Review and motivate me, slaves! I'm a desperate writer looking for some reviews!
I also apologize for this short chapter, and I guess I should also inform you of the perspective; I will occasionally (normally) use Jean; he is an important character to the story and has an equally important role in the second major pairing, so of course, I need to develop this.
And so some chapters will be in Jean's POV, but most will be in Eren's :3

~Chapter 3~

Jean had never wanted to sink into a hole made of his own despair and embarrassment more so than he did at this exact moment. He had only been browsing his favorite music store for maybe ten minutes before he had noticed the horribly familiar freckled man standing, completely unaware, at the register; sorting and cleaning CDs and t-shirts. It was the complete fear of feeling like a coward later that kept him from running out of the store, but it was the reluctance to seem awkward and ignorant if he took his chosen items to the register.

Besides, he had just gotten paid and if he let the money sit out longer than necessary, Eren would take it and Jean would lose his chance to replenish his own music shelves. And his wardrobe.

While he was far from sorry about what he had said to Marco, Jean knew what he had done was probably uncalled for, at least in Eren's book. But, then again, he wasn't the one who had jumped Marco, nor was he the one who had punched him. Sure, his words had been a little harsh, enough to make Eren personally kick him out of Rose and cancel his gig, but he didn't regret them that much.

If a guy decides to grind up on another guy, he needs to expect anything.

"Ah... fuck..." Jean sighed while shouldering his tank tops and grabbing a CD. Marco working at his favorite music store was definitely a problem, but it was easily solved; all he had to do was not come on the days he was working.

He shuddered at the idea as he slowly made his way to the counter. Achieving that would no doubt make him feel like a stalker, and he definitely didn't want to feel something like that.

"Did you find everything all righ- oh..." Marco trailed off as he caught sight of Jean, his brown eyes wide and a faint blush dusting his heavily freckled cheeks.

When he had first met Marco, it had been dark, if you didn't count the flashing red and blue lights, and his lightly dressed body had been covered in glitter. His brown eyes had been closed for the most part, and Jean hadn't been too intent on figuring out the guy who had been grinding on his lap, of course, so he hadn't really gotten a good look at the boy before he had shoved him off.

So he was sure the amount of innocence Marco seemed to radiate would come as a surprise to anyone.

After coughing softly, Jean nodded and carefully placed his items on the cold counter top. He felt as if he could slice the tension in the air with a knife, and it got worse when Marco emphasized how slowly he was pulling tags and stickers off of the CDs and tank tops.

A small, almost nervous, smile played on his lips as he held up one of the tanks tops. "You like Nirvana?" he asked, his eyes on him for a split second, before he looked back down just as quickly.

He's shy... Jean thought before trying to hide a smirk. Instead he chewed on his pierced lip and nodded again, unable to find his voice.

"I like 'em, too," Marco muttered, mostly to himself, before sighing and scanning the small bar code. "Um... I don't know if you're still mad or... Or surprised that I work wearing clothes, but either way... I'm sorry," he began after a moment. He was still moving horribly slowly, but Jean found himself caring less and less with each passing second.

"It's-"

"While I still think you deserved to be punched in the face, I shouldn't have done it," Marco continued though he was rambling now and his dark cheeks were burning brighter than before. "I was out of line, especially during work, and shouldn't have done what I did. That could have waited until I was off."

"Um... It's okay?" Jean tried, thoroughly confused. So they both thought the other was in the wrong, and he wasn't sure he was ready to argue about who was wrong yet.

Yet...? Jean immediately shoved that addition away. It was as if he were implying there would be a second meeting, and he definitely didn't want that. In fact, he was planning on going out of his way to avoid that.

After taking several moments just watching the brunette shift around and punch in the prices, Jean huffed and crossed his arms. "I'm sorry, too, if it means anything," he muttered unhappily. He almost kicked himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth and Marco stopped what he was doing to look up at him, his full lips parted and eyes shining.

While Jean was far from being aware of the other boy's feelings, he had the sinking feeling of giving Marco false hope.

"I just... Well, I shouldn't have said the things I said..." Jean continued despite this knowledge and ran a hand through his hair.

"You really shouldn't have," Marco snorted, his blush fading and his expression becoming significantly darker as the words no doubt drilled themselves into his memory again. Jean winced as he jerked the last tag off of his tank top and threw it in the small trash can, anger making his movements unnecessarily forceful and jerky. Before Marco even bagged them, he placed his hands on the counter and looked up at him from under his bangs. "I don't reveal my body and dance on a stage in front of old men and giggling women to get leered at and groped, Jean."

"Fair enough," Jean murmured while shifting uncomfortably under the burning gaze. Yet he couldn't help but wonder why he did it. If not to be drooled over, as that's all Jean was sure Marco was getting in return, then why. He wasn't going to get picked up by a celebrity to be a backup dancer because his skills with a pole were exceptional.

The situation had yet again become unbearable, but Marco still seemed to refuse to bag his purchases. It was as if he were perfectly content with glaring at him for several minutes, relishing in the fact that he could make him squirm so obviously.

"Are you homophobic?" he suddenly blurted, the intensity of his gaze easing as he straightened up and crossed his arms.

"W-what? No! I live with Eren for Christ's sake!" Jean cried then hurried on when Marco arched a delicate eyebrow. "Okay, that wasn't a good example. But the meaning is still clear, right?"

"Touche. I'll let it slip this time, though. You're a fan of Nirvana, so I guess you can't be all that bad," Marco snickered while finally pulling out a plastic bag and shoving everything inside unceremoniously

"So you really do like them," Jean snorted while taking the offered bag.

With a sigh, Marco turned slightly and lifted up the side of his shirt, revealing the band's logo tattooed on his hip. However, Jean found himself focusing more on the ridiculous amount of freckles that surrounded the dark ink, and fought the rising blush as he wondered just how much of his body was covered in the small dark marks.

"I... Um... I'm not sure how... to respond..."

"Is it... Is it really that... weird? Bad?"

"No... Uh... It's... I just... I don't..."

"Um... yeah... Yeah, I understand..."

I need to call Mikasa, Jean told himself as he nodded slowly, trying to keep his cool. While calling Mikasa probably wouldn't help his mood any, he'd just be forced to talk about Eren, it would definitely remind him that he had a girlfriend. And anything really was better compared to the insufferable atmosphere between them at that moment.

And, almost sternly, Jean noticed he had to remind himself that Marco didn't just work at a music store, he worked at a club in the middle of the night stripping for strangers and getting money shoved in his pants.

"Uh... Thanks," Jean murmured as he was given his receipt and card back.

"I took twenty off," Marco added with a sly smile. Jean eyed him cautiously, but said nothing more. His confusion grew when Marco held up a twenty dollar bill and pressed it against his lips for a moment, the smirk clear even behind the small, wrinkled, paper. "I don't usually get tips during public shows, but after I punched you in the face and stormed off, I found this in my back pocket."

Jean arched his own eyebrow and sneered at what Marco was implying. "You didn't get that from me," he snorted before giving a short wave and walking out of the large store.

That's just not possible...

The second the fresh air and lack of tension hit him, Jean felt as if he could breathe easier. To think he would even give a stripper a penny made him want to vomit, let alone a twenty dollar bill. He wouldn't waste that kind of money. If he couldn't stomach the idea of dancing as material for strangers to jerk off too, he wouldn't pay to keep it going.

With a sigh, Jean dug through his bag for the receipt, yet instead found a small slip of paper that caused him to pale. However, there wasn't a number with a winky face or hearts on it, instead he found a small note written in neat handwriting.

There's a huge producer coming over to Rose this weekend. If you're interested, Eren and I could get you another gig... Maybe.

"Shit..." Jean muttered, crumbling the small paper in his hand when guilt assaulted him. "Shit...!

What's with him? he wondered as his head began to pound. The horrible encounter had slightly changed his opinion of the mass of freckles from their previous horrible encounter. But he knew that didn't really explain why Marco was going this far to be nice, especially when he thought back on what he said.

It had truly been uncalled for, and to deepen the wound, he had done it when all eyes were on them. He shouldn't have let his discomfort and disdain get to him so much, Jean could have just easily sat through it then confronted him later if it had been that much of a problem.

His skin prickled at the thought of sitting through it, however. There was just no way he could allow it; stripper or not, single or not.

After shoving the note back in the bag, Jean started his short walk back to his apartment, reeling and trying to ignore the weird feeling toying with his head.

~.~.~

"How's Eren doing?"

"Mikasa, he's doing fine as always..."

"He's not getting depressed or anything?"

"No-! Why would he get depressed? He doesn't even interact with his boss from what I've heard."

"That's good... So, you guys are making enough money and getting by okay? I know it's expensive, and if you ever need anything-"

Jean gave a small laugh and sighed slightly, grateful that she didn't directly mention Eren in that sentence. "We're fine, Mikasa. You don't need to send us money; we're not bums hanging out in boxes. Eren gets paid pretty generously and you know how I am. We're survivors, babe. We can be in debt one month and rich as can be the next."

There was silence on the line before the faint sound of Mikasa chuckling came through, and Jean could imagine a small smile on her lips. "As long as you're sure you're getting by comfortably... But, it has been a year now... Why don't you guys come back to Ohio for Thanksgiving or something...? I miss you guys and I know your mom misses you, Jean... You can't ignore her forever, and you'll regret it if you do..."

Jean immediately frowned and his mood turned sour. There was no way he was stepping foot in Ohio again, not just because of his mother but because of how depressing his hometown was. In California, there were always new opportunities, opportunities that took up his time and entertained him; distracted him. If he went back to Ohio for just an hour, Jean knew he'd get sick and lose it.

"Why don't you come out here?" Jean offered after he knew his voice wouldn't shake or crack. "Eren and I can even get the money together, we've been doing really good this month... You'd love it here, Mikasa..." he muttered, then smiled slightly when his eyes landed on a small piece of paper. "And I think I'll be coming across some good luck soon..."

When one of the doors in the back of the apartment slammed shut, Jean ended his conversation with Mikasa and pocketed his phone just as Eren stormed out. His eye had gotten significantly better, and the wound on his lip was almost completely gone, but the bags under his eyes and his mass of messy brown hair were the classic signs of a natural Eren Hangover.

"What happened last night?" Jean snorted as Eren made a beeline for the small kitchen and pulled out an ice pack.

"Marco was felt up by a wasted shit of a man," the brunette mumbled, far too tired to throw in a usual insult or snap at Jean to mind his own business. "I couldn't get the pig down and Levi just waltzed in and kicked his knee and down he went..."

Levi? Jean wondered, though based on his roommates expression it was easy to tell that this was the very same man that had creamed him a few nights prior.

"Am I really that useless?" Eren sighed after he had collapsed on the couch, his face covered by the large ice pack.

Jean snorted and kicked his feet down to settle beside him. He knew enough about Eren to know he wasn't referring to his strength or abilities, but himself. The only abilities he questioned were his abilities to maintain relationships.

"How do you do it, Jean?" Eren groaned. "You've been dating Mikasa for four years now, it's even long distance, and you're happy... How?"

"Because I can get over shitty relationships," Jean muttered, staring at his bitch of a friend softly for a moment before poking his thigh. "You got dumped by a dick, then move out here and bum off of me just to work for him? In what world is that healthy?"

"Shut up, horseface!" Eren snapped, suddenly sitting up and dropping the ice pack. Jean only smiled as the familiar look of rage and humiliation overcame the boy's round face.

"Why don't you go for the midget who beat you up?" Jean teased while knowing full well he was pushing all of the brunette's buttons and loving it.

The brat may have been a bitch of a guy to deal with when he was mad, at least it would get his mind out of the past. And by the enraged look on Eren's face, Jean knew he had hit right.

"Why don't you go for the stripper who punched you in the face?" Eren countered while snapping at the small note on the coffee table.

Jean sneered and punched his friend in the arm. "Like hell. Even if I wasn't dating your sister he'd never get a chance with me."

Eren seemed to quiet down after that, then with a small sigh and nervously chewing on his chapped lips, his green eyes met Jean's browns. "I'll stop bitching about Levi and try it out, as well as get you a gig this weekend, if you apologize properly to Marco and try to be nice to him," he offered while extending his right hand. "This means coming by every time Marco has a shift for at least an hour. If it weren't for him convincing me, you would have never heard a word about Sina Records..."

Jean stared at the extended hand for a moment, only contemplating his second offer. Jean couldn't care less about whether Eren got together with an irritable geezer, but the option of getting to preform at a huge club in front of a major producer was what he needed. Especially a producer from Sina. And he could handle Marco, he had decided. He had almost done so earlier, yet he'd make sure he would keep that from Eren, and was sure Marco was a perfectly nice guy if he could get over the fact he stripped for money.

"You've got yourself a deal, Jaeger."