Marco let out a sigh as he threw his keys onto the kitchen table. He took a glance around the open space in front of him, then reached to the side and flicked a light on. His apartment was filled with an uncomfortable silence. He stripped himself of his jacket and then made his way towards the bathroom, his instincts preparing for a long and exhausting conversation even though he knew that he would only be met with silence. For how often he had come home rushing to the rescue for his friend, it was no surprise that he still checked. His heart skipped as he reached for the doorknob, hoping that maybe it was locked, and maybe his roommate was on the other side of it.
The doorknob turned smoothly until the door clicked open with a creak. Marco's eyes feel to the ground, his heart dropping in his chest.
Bertholdt hadn't been home in such a long time. Marco wasn't sure exactly when because he had often assumed the taller man wasn't there when he had just locked himself in his bedroom without saying anything to him. Still, Marco missed him. He missed being able to talk to him, and as much as he thought he couldn't handle it, Marco missed taking care of him.
Now the place was just too quiet and it reminded him constantly of how lonely he really was. He hated being in his room because his room was just a constant spin of all the things he fooled himself into thinking he loved. Every time he laid in his bed, he just stared at items on the walls and tried so hard to dig into him and find the feelings that made him buy the decorations in the first place.
His games didn't do anything for him. He never felt like playing them. Marco might've occasionally thrown a game in, but he never played it for more than a few minutes. He just had no motive anymore. Bertholdt and Jean were what got him through his days, but now Bertholdt was never around, and Jean didn't want to be bothered. He felt empty. The silence that filled his apartments numbed his feelings, the only thing left to keep him distracted were the shadows on the walls.
Marco's eyes slipped over towards Bertholdt's room, the door closed. He knew no one was on the other side, but he still hoped he was wrong. He took a step towards it and tried the doorknob.
It was unlocked.
He let the knob slip back into place as he ran a hand through his hair. His heart clenched tightly. The thought that maybe Bertholdt killed himself had crossed his mind before, but it was popping up again, and he felt much more worried about it now than he did the first time. It had been so long since the two had talked that Marco felt like at this point, he'd be the last one to hear if anything happened.
He slipped his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contact list. He pulled open a new message and stared at it. What the hell should he say? What if Bertholdt was still mad at him and just didn't respond? How would he know he was alright? Marco chewed his lip in contemplation, when a rattling noise from the front broke his concentration. He spun his head towards the front door and his heart skipped in relief when he saw the person he was just worrying about.
Bertholdt stood in the doorway awkwardly, his skin pale and his eyes red. His body was shaking slightly. Marco's smile faded away as he stared at his friend. He didn't look good at all.
"...Are you alright...?" He questioned as his friend stepped in. It looked as if it took everything Bertholdt had in him to just nod his head without falling apart. Marco didn't believe him for second and took a step towards him. "What's going on?" He pushed, looking him over again.
Bertholdt's eyes shifted away from Marco. "I'm... I'm just here to grab some things..." he mumbled.
The shorter of the two scrunched his eyebrows together, confused. "Why? For what? You're not leaving, are you?"
"I don't want to..." Bertholdt walked towards his room, moving past Marco without looking at him. Marco watched as he opened his door and went for his drawer. He was grabbing clothes.
"If you don't want to, then why are you?" Marco asked. "Where are you even going?"
"To Reiner's..." Bertholdt mumbled. His hands glided over a shirt in the open drawer in front of him. His eyes stared blankly at them while his body shivered. Marco looked back towards the door, expecting to see the blond there, but he wasn't. The door was shut, and there was no movement from a second party outside of it. The freckled man turned back towards Bertholdt. His lips were trembling. "I-I don't want to go..." He huffed out.
Marco stepped in next to him, his gaze locked onto every expression that Bertholdt left off. "Bertholdt, please.. I.. I know we haven't been talking, but..What's going on? Why do you have to go? Just stay here, I'm not mad at you..." There was a hint of desperateness laced in his words.
Bertholdt shook his head. "Reiner's making me." Marco was about to ask why, but was cut off. "He was gonna take me to the hospital...I begged him not to, but the only way he'd let me, was if I stayed with him for a while..." His voice faded out, and he turned his head to the side. "...and..ate." The words were barely even whimpered out.
Everything came together in seconds once that last word was spoken. Marco's shoulders dropped as he realized that Reiner must've confronted Bertholdt about his disorder. Marco let out a huff as he tried to think of something to say. "That's... I mean, I understand why he's giving you that ultimatum, but that's not right to force you to do anything you don't want to do..." He slid his hand over his friend's and stopped him from grabbing anymore clothes. "If you want to stay here, then stay. Only go if that's something you think you're ready to do."
Bertholdt's eyes locked onto Marco's and the two were quiet for a moment. The silence wasn't awkward, but it wasn't really comfortable either. Neither of them were sure of what it was, but they were both positive that something had definitely changed between the two. It was obvious that they weren't mad at each other anymore, but they were at a new level then they were before. It had become more than just throwing each other's problems on one another, and about helping the other through it.
Bertholdt didn't remove his hand, but he turned his head away for a second time. "Even if I stayed, Reiner would probably be up here in a heartbeat to drag me down there.."
"Is he downstairs?"
"He's waiting in his car.." Bertholdt mumbled.
Marco thought for a moment and then pulled his hand away. "I'm gonna go talk to him."
"What?" Bertholdt's eyes widened in shock, like that was the stupidest thing Marco had ever said. "He's not going to listen to you, he's barely-"
Marco didn't let him get another word out as he left the room and headed for the door. He stepped out into the hallway and skipped down the stairs. He understood completely that Reiner wanted to help, but forcing him to live with him? Even if it wasn't permanently, it was too drastic. Just thinking about it made it seem like Bertholdt would be more of a prisoner than a friend.
As his pace brought him closer to confrontation, the freckled man let his mind roll through different scenarios in his head. He didn't know Reiner as well as Bertholdt did, but if Bertholdt was that uncomfortable about staying with him, it couldn't be good for him.
Maybe Marco was wrong to do this. Maybe Reiner's idea of treatment would be exactly what Bertholdt needed in order to get better? Hell, maybe Reiner would be amazing at it and honestly help him through each minute that he struggled, but every bone in Marco's body was telling him other wise. He knew Reiner was kind, and he knew he was thinking about what was best for Bertholdt, but he also knew that the way Reiner would do it wouldn't work well with Bertholdt at all. Plus.. Bertholdt was probably humiliated enough, if he stayed with him, then regardless of how good Reiner was at supporting him, Bertholdt would probably rather die than be constantly reminded that the person he wanted to impress so hard was seeing him at his weakest.
Marco rushed towards the parking lot, spotting the blond's car right away. He was currently leaning against the door of his drivers side, arms crossed over his chest. The pattering of footsteps drew his attention towards the doorway, expecting to see a tall figure. His eyes didn't falter much when he turned to watch Marco walking towards him. Marco's body shook with nerves for a moment, reminding him of the difference in size between them as he approached the car. After taking in a deep breath, the nerves settled and his thoughts subsided.
Reiner pushed himself off the car and gave a nod. Marco wasn't even sure where to start. He took in a breath, not even returning the polite gesture that the broad man gave him and just went for it.
"Reiner...Look, I don't know what happened today but you can't make Bertholdt go with you." He stated, getting right to his point.
"Why not...?" Reiner questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Because... That's.." Marco hesitated for a moment, wanting the words to come out exactly how he meant it. "It's not right. He's upset, and embarrassed. Whatever happened today, just.. Let it slide. Give him some time."
The blond stared at him for a moment, almost in disbelief. "If you knew what happened, I'm pretty sure you'd let him come with me." He let his arms drop to his side, his patience appearing thin. "The last thing he needs is some time for him to make himself worse. I'd hope you'd think the same way if you were there today."
"He already told me about today.. I mean, sure it wasn't everything but, you can't make him do something he doesn't want to do. You don't understand what that'll do to him -"
"What, keep him from dying?" Reiner cut him off. "You're really trying to stand here in front of me and tell me to let him go?" He took in a breath realizing that his anger was getting the best of him and decided to take a step back. "He passed out today, completely unconscious." The broad man brought a hand to his temple, stressed. "It wasn't even like he came back to right away either, he was out until almost half way to the hospital. You think that's just him feeling faint? You and I both know that's not good. He doesn't eat, he's not getting any form of nutrients, he's fucking killing himself Marco, and you're sitting there letting it happen!." Reiner threw a hand in the general direction of Marco's apartment. " If someone took a little better care of him, he might not be this way."
The words shot through Marco's brain like an arrow, his mind immediately throwing him into defense as he processed the tone of Reiner's voice. "What the hell are you trying to say?"
Reiner glared at the raven-haired man in front of him, his jaw clenching tightly as he gathered his words. "Idunno, maybe that you're definitely not helping him with his problem at all. Hell, you're probably a part of it." He snapped.
Marco's body pulsed with a burn in his veins. He bit his tongue, taking in a breath. His brain processed his anger faster than his reasoning, but he still tried to stay level headed. Pushing his thoughts aside, Marco tried to turn it back to what he originally came to tell him. "You have no right to make him stay somewhere he doesn't want-"
"I'm not asking permission. I'm taking him out of here." Reiner cut in, his voice laced with anger as he closed the space between the two, and shoved Marco's shoulder. The freckled man took a foot backward to maintain his balance, the touch lighting up his veins faster than his heart was. "If he stays here, he's just gonna starve himself to death."
Marco did his best to ignore the shove, but he couldn't ignore the anger that was burning in the hazel eyes that stared down at him. "Reiner, he doesn't want to go with you." He tried to reason.
"Yeah, cause he knows I'm not gonna put up with the shit that you do." The blond's build was intimidating, but Marco didn't waver at all. "If it weren't for you, he'd probably be in a better state." Reiner chuckled, his eyes watching the anger boiling in the man in front of him. "Hell, if it weren't for you, he'd probably be a whole nother person." Marco drew in a deep breath, trying his best to ignore the words that Reiner was speaking. He knew the blond just wanted to win, that's all this was about. He was worried about Bertholdt and was using him as an outlet, a person to blame. "If it weren't for you, I'm sure Bertholdt wouldn't feel the way he-"
"-If it weren't for me, he'd already be dead!" Marco cut him off, his heart pumping a fire in his veins. He did what he could to remain calm but he couldn't stand there and let the blond blame him for everything when he didn't know a thing about what happened between him and Bertholdt. He stood his ground, his eyes challenging the blond to try and prove him wrong. "How many fucking times do you think I have to pull him away from the toilet bowl each day?! How many times do you think that I've walked in to him crying and wailing about killing himself?!" Marco threw his arms at Reiner and shoved him away with a force much stronger than the shove the blond gave him. "How much time do you think I've sat with him, and held him while he was working through his own fucking misery, huh?" Marco closed his eyes in frustration, grabbing his head. He tried to calm himself down, but it just wasn't right. How could Reiner be blaming him for all of this?
"You know, you think that you're just gonna come in here like some knight in shining armor and completely change him, don't you?" Marco questioned. "You think, that by literally forcing him into a new lifestyle, that he's just going to suddenly change and worship you. That Bertholdt's just going to be eating one day with you over his shoulder and suddenly think to himself 'Wow Reiner, I don't know what I was thinking! Eating food has actually completely turned me around!'" Marco fanned his hands in the air, acting overly peppy as he mimicked his friend. "And you know what? You are so wrong." Reiner's mouth hung open slightly as he watched the anger pour out of the man in front of him. "You're gonna bring him to your place like some abused puppy, and you're gonna try to change him, and of course, at first, you'll be patient, but what happens after a couple of weeks and he's not changing? A month goes by and he hasn't made any improvement? A fucking year could go by and nothing?" The two locked eyes as Marco went on. "You're going to be sitting there, realizing that you just don't have it in you to do it anymore. You don't have any more energy or patience for him and you'll give up on him. " He watched as the blond appeared to block out all of the words he spat at him. A calmer face washed over Reiner, and he let out a sigh, attempting to start the conversation over.
"Marco I just want-"
"Just want what? To be some kind of hero for him? Try and give him his own fairytale?"
Reiner groaned, frustrated. "I just don't want to feel guilty, alright?!" He blurted.
Marco stopped completely, his anger subsiding and confusion washing over him. His words and anger were completely lost in his throat as his brain processed the blond's words. "What...?"
"I fucking know, alright!? I know he's a mess, I know he' s just a ticking time bomb, I know he's at the point where neither of us can really help him anymore... and I know how he feels about..." Reiner trailed off, shrugging his shoulder. "...Me." He breathed. Marco wasn't sure what to say. His brain was still processing what Reiner was trying to tell him. "I know he likes me. Everyone knows, it's obvious... It's just like you with Jean..." Marco's heart clenched tightly at the mention of his name. "You think he doesn't know about it? It's written all over your face whenever you're around him. Your whole being just grows into this warm happy mess and...it's...it's what I wanted to do for Bertholdt. It's what I thought I was doing for him."
"I-I-I don't..." The dark-haired man took a breath. "Has...Has Jean actually said...?" He trailed off.
Reiner rolled his neck. "Marco, I just want Bertholdt to get better. I want him to be stronger and I want him to get there on his own. I thought that because he likes me, I could help him out, encourage him to want to impress me by being better, but now it's turned into this big mess, and everyone's making these assumptions and.. It's probably made him worse."
"Don't you...Like him..?" Marco questioned.
Reiner brought his eyes up to the chocolate pair watching him, his face already showing the answer. "Of course I like him.. But that's it. I just like him. I don't have a crush on him, I'm not trying to be in a relationship, but that's what everyone's expecting now. I feel like even Bertholdt expects it..." Reiner rubbed the back of his neck as he exhaled. The anger that had once filled the air had vanished. "I didn't want to do this to him.. I didn't want him to think that the only way I'd ever find him attractive was by being thin. I just thought that if I spent more time with him, he'd be able to feel as happy as you do when you're around Jean." Reiner rubbed his temples, shaking his head. "Now.. If something were to happen to him..That's on me. All of it. It's my fault, because I made him want us to happen so badly that it destroyed him. It literally could kill him, and I don't want that guilt..."
"How..." Marco mumbled. "How could you just.. Dangle that in front of him? You don't have a clue how highly he thinks of you... How much hope you gave him..."
"I thought I was helping!" The blond defended. "I honestly thought that he was getting better...Marco, Bertholdt's dying. Neither of us are able to stop that from happening. He's gonna kill himself."
The blond's words hung in the air, the realization of how close that time would be swirled around in Marco's head. His brain went through the time that he spent with Bertholdt, all the nights he came to his side and did what he could to calm Bertholdt down. The nights where Bertholdt held him and poured all of his trust into Marco's hands, it all passed through his brain as he remembered Bertholdt telling him that he wanted to live for Marco. Just as he wanted Marco to live for him. "No..." Marco responded, the memory of one of Bertholdt's bad nights came back to him. He let out a breath. "No, you can't.. But I might. We promised."
"Promised?"
Marco ignored Reiner's curiosity and pointed a finger at him. "Unless you're there to tell Bertholdt exactly what you just told me, I don't think you should be around him anymore."
"..." Reluctantly, the blond nodded in agreement. "I.. I understand." He breathed. Marco let his arm drop to his side as he turned his head back towards the building. "Just..." His eyes shot from the doorway back to his conversation partner. "Just let me be the one to tell him, please? I know you guys talk, but I'd like to be the one to let him down..."
The raven haired man nodded. "I don't think I could tell him anyway..." He turned away from him for a second time, another thought from earlier in their conversation crossed his mind. "Reiner..." He started. "When... When you said that Jean knew how I felt about him... Did he tell you?"
The blond was quiet for a moment, visibly uncomfortable. "Look, Marco I don't think that's for me to say."
"What did he say...?" Marco's hands shook nervously, his heart thumping hard against his rib cage as his ears strained for an answer.
"He said he didn't want to talk about it..." Reiner turned towards his car door and pulled on the handle. "You should ask him about it, not me."
"...I can't..." He exhaled, saying it under his breath as he turned back towards the doors he came from.
Reiner hesitated for a moment, almost as if he wanted to give him the answer right then and there. With a shake of his head, he climbed into the driver's seat and started the car.
That night had been rough on Marco. He wasn't sure how to handle Bertholdt after coming back inside. The tall man had thanked him and apologized to him and asked him all kinds of questions about how the conversation with his idol went and every word that Bertholdt spoke about Reiner made Marco's heart twist in pain.
He stayed up with Bertholdt for most of the night, and he had even gotten him to at least nibble on bits of a granola bar for him. It wasn't much, but Marco knew that Reiner was right about him slowly dying. He knew that if Bertholdt didn't change his eating habits soon, his organs were going to completely shut down on him and it'd be over for him.
Even after Bertholdt had gone to bed, Marco couldn't find himself able to follow after him. He tried to distract his thoughts with what was on tv, but the first thing he saw was an infomercial with a women in a slim fit dress, standing beside a small box that had pills sprawled in front of it. Her hair was a slick black, pulled back into a bun, her bangs curving around her chin. The lady had a large smile on her face as she motioned towards her waist, discussing about how much these pills of hers had helped her lose some obscene amount of weight. Marco's eyes shifted away from the tv, reaching for the remote.
"You can have the Fubar Figure too! Call the number on your screen right now and you'll get-" He clicked the power button and quickly dismissed the hopes of taking his mind off of things.
His thoughts were constantly swarming around about Jean, and what Reiner had mentioned. His nerves would skyrocket as he thought about the idea of Jean knowing that he was in love with him, and picturing what it was that he had to say about it. He would tumble back and fourth with the idea that Jean must've secretly hated him and wanted nothing to do with him. Regardless of what it was Jean felt, he wouldn't be getting an answer unless he asked him.
Marco was currently laying in his bed, his phone the only light in the apartment. The blue hue lit up his face as he stared at a blank message he had open that was under Jean's name. His eyes looked at the clock, a bright 3:34am shining back down at him. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he finally typed out a simple message.
Marco: Are you awake? Can't sleep.
To his surprise, his phone went off before he was even able to send the message. His heart raced when he saw it was from Jean.
Jean: Can I come over?
Marco backspaced the message he typed and replace it with a polite 'Yeah of course.' and waited to see if he'd respond.
It wasn't until Jean had actually arrived that Marco got a response from him, and even then it was just 'outside'. The sleep deprived man tip toed to the door and pulled it open slowly, in an attempt to keep quiet. Jean didn't hesitate stepping inside, throwing his shoes off and tossing his jacket onto the closest piece of furniture. The two headed towards Marco's room, Marco shutting the door gently behind him and flicking on his light.
He turned to look at Jean and his heart clenched to see the sad face he wore. He had bags under his eyes and the rims of his eyelids were red from what Marco assumed was him crying. His hair was messy and definitely looked as if Jean hadn't attempted to style it since his break up with Eren. Even the clothes Jean wore looked as if he put as little effort into it as he could, wearing just a plain t-shirt and a lose pair of jeans.
Marco watched as Jean took a seat on the edge of his bed and then threw himself backward onto the mattress. "Eren's been over every day with Armin." he groaned. "I can't sleep. All I hear is him talking and laughing out there.." Jean threw his hands on his face, digging his palms into his eye sockets and rubbing them. "Why does he get to laugh?"
Marco stood awkwardly for a moment, contemplating on what to say. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, next to Jean. "Maybe he's.. Hoping you'll talk to him...?" He suggested. Jean just tsk'd at the response and Marco shrugged. "Or maybe he's just that big of an asshole and is just throwing salt in the wound."
"He's the biggest asshole either way."
"True," Marco agreed. "You're a close second though." He joked.
Jean pulled his hands away from his face and gave Marco a mean stare. "Yeah, sure."
Marco chuckled at his response. There was a silence that settled in for a moment."You know.. I would think it was just Eren being an asshole, with him coming over all the time, but it's not just Eren." He turned to look at Jean. "Why is Armin letting that happen?"
Jean didn't bother to think about it. He let out another groan and sat up straight next to Marco. "Who cares? I'm tired of being around him. I'm tired of hearing him laugh, and joke, and just even fucking speak...I'm tired of what happened between us just not affecting him at all..."
"Jean..." Marco hated hearing his friend like this. He hated seeing Jean this way, just miserable and hurting. "You shouldn't be tired.. You shouldn't be letting him affect you the way he has been. Eren could be hurting over this just as much as you are, or maybe even more, who knows what he's feeling. The point is, the difference between you two is that you're letting the situation tear you apart in front of everyone. If he's hurting, he's taking it out in a...well, healthier way..." Marco waited for a response from Jean, but he didn't say anything. "Are you mad at him?" Jean's eyes locked with Marco's, confusion twirling in the hazel color. Marco repeated himself. "Are you still mad at Eren?"
"Yeah, of course I'm mad at him."
"Then be angry." Jean was perplexed by the advice Marco had given him. He didn't seem to understand what his friend was trying to say. Marco smiled. "Jean, just be angry. You have every right in the world to hate Eren right now, but instead you've been digging into yourself trying to figure out what you did wrong to make those things happen. Just stop. You don't need an excuse, or a reason, you didn't do anything wrong. Stop looking for an answer and just let yourself be angry at him for what he did."
Jean let the words sink in, his brain processing the meaning behind them. He felt like he never stopped being angry at Eren. Every day all he thought about was Eren and everything the two had behind them. He thought about all the great times they spent together and how Eren had just destroyed it. He completely destroyed anything Jean thought was a good memory over the past three years, and Jean thought he hated him for it. He thought he was screaming in anger at how Eren did that to him, but he was realizing now that he wasn't angry at Eren for what he did. He wasn't angry at him at all, in fact, he realized now that he had been angry at himself for finding out. He was blaming himself for finding out the truth about why Eren had suddenly changed towards him over the past few months. He realized he would've much rather have never found out about Eren and his teacher and keep up a relationship with him then ever go through this.
That realization was what made him even angrier. This time, it wasn't directed at himself either. After a moment, he forced his thoughts about the brunette aside and gave a soft chuckle. "Hah...Strange... I actually feel a little bit better.."
Marco's shoulders slumped in relief, and a grateful smile decorated his lips. "That's really good to hear..."
Jean let out a sigh and looked over at Marco. "You can give some pretty damn good advice, you know that?"
"Well...Anyone really can when they have some kind of understanding of what's going on..I mean, I've never been cheated on or...in a relationship for that matter, but I can understand how you feel. And since I haven't been in that position exactly, I can understand how you should be feeling." Marco did his best to explain his train of thought, but he just ended up waving his hands in the air like he was trying to erase the words he just spoke. "Nevermind, I don't know what I'm trying to say."
Jean smiled and let his eyes fall down. He stared blankly at Marco's arm, the cloth of his jacket covering what he was curious about. "How's your arm?"
For a moment, Marco had forgotten that anything had been done to it. He was thrown off by the question. It wasn't until he followed Jean's gaze that he understood what he was asking about. He hesitated, but he pulled his sleeve back to show Jean. "It's healing..." he breathed. Their eyes both stared at the cuts that decorated Marco's forearm. "...God, this was stupid.." He tried to pull his sleeve back over the marks, but Jean's hand landed on his and stopped him. He carefully slid his hand under Marco's forearm and brought it in front of him. He ran a thumb over some of the cuts.
"I don't think it was stupid.." Jean breathed, Marco's fingertips just inches away from his lips. Marco shivered when he felt Jean's warm breath against his skin, his heart race speeding up. "It seemed more desperate than stupid.." Jean's thumb ran down the numerous cuts, his lips moving slowly as if he was counting them. "How did you know when to stop..?"
"Wh...what?" Marco asked.
"The cuts..." Jean's hazel eyes shot up to the chocolate pair watching him. Marco's throat felt like it was closing up on him as they stared at each other. "I imagine you did it for some kind of relief...so which one was the one that made it stop?"
"...I just...did it until it didn't hurt anymore..." Marco's voice was quiet. "I never got relief..." Jean let go of his arm and turned his head to the side. Marco pulled his sleeve down, and placed his hands in his lap. The two sat in silence for a moment, both afraid to say anything. Marco rubbed his fingertips together, imagining the feeling of Jean's breath against them as he did it. His heart skipped a beat as he dragged his eyes over his friend's body.
You think he doesn't know about it?
Marco's mind replayed Reiner's voice as he stared at Jean. He wanted to know so badly. He wanted to tell him, he wanted to hear him say the same thing, he wanted Jean to say he had been waiting for Marco to speak, he wanted Jean to tell him how hard it had been to hold back, and fuck, he just wanted Jean so badly.
It's written all over you face!
"Jean..." Marco's voice jumped out of his throat. His nerves sparked through his body, his hands trembling instantly. The sandy haired man sitting inches away from him brought all of his attention on him and Marco thought that it suddenly felt like there was less air. "Do you know that..." He trailed off, his heart pounding. His mind struggled to remember how to put words together. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Reiner said...you two were talking before...but.. After he asked you something, you said you didn't want to talk about it..."
Jean's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, tilting his head slightly as he tried to figure out where Marco was going with his words. The air felt so thick around Marco now, and he was sure that if he didn't spit his words out then he'd pass out. "I just...If you know about what I... About how I..."
"Marco," Jean placed a hand on his thigh, and it was then that the raven-haired man realized that he hadn't been looking at him the entire time he was talking. He could feel how hot his face was and his body was a trembling mess. The hand on his thigh was like a tidal wave that cooled his nerves. "I have to piss really badly."
Marco's brain slowed to a stop and his body was immobile for a brief moment, and then he realized what Jean said. He laughed. Jean stood from his spot and headed out of the bedroom, leaving Marco sitting on the bed in a complete mess. "Asshole..." He breathed to himself after letting out another laugh.
Once Jean had returned from the bathroom, Marco dismissed the subject and the two decided that they would try to get some kind of sleep. Jean's whole aura seemed to be in a better mood than when he first arrived, and Marco was happy for him about it. The two both passed out almost immediately after climbing underneath the blankets.