"Hey, Jean? Jean."

Jean gave a noncommittal grunt, furrowing his brow. What the fuck?

"Sorry for waking you, but you sure you don't wanna come to Stohess today? We're leaving soon."

What the fuck. Marco woke him up for this? Jean rolled over, his back facing Marco's side of the room.

"I'll take that as a no," Marco said.

"Way too fucking early," Jean mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut against the brightness of the room.

"It's noon, Jean."

"Fuck that."

To his surprise he heard Marco laugh. "I'll see you later then, yeah?" Marco said, and Jean could hear him moving around the room. He rolled over and opened his eyes just a bit, peeking at Marco, who, unfortunately, noticed. "Changed your mind?" he asked.

"No way," Jean muttered, closing his eyes again and feeling heat creep into his cheeks. He probably thinks you're some creepy weirdo now.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop asking. But you're coming with us next time."

"Not a chance." Jean rolled over, his back once again facing Marco. "Too friendly," he muttered.

Marco laughed again, and Jean's cheeks burned as he realized that Marco had heard him. He was irritated with himself. Why did he care if Marco heard him or not? Jean made it pretty clear to most people what he thought of them.

"Later, then." This time Jean heard the door open and close. He lay there for a moment, listening to make sure Marco had really left, and when all was quiet, he turned to look. Finally, peace and quiet.

Jean closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

"Do you do anything but sleep?"

"Fucking again?" Jean groaned. "Leave me alone and stop waking me up."

"I don't think that's healthy," Marco said. "Have you even eaten today?"

"None of your business."

"You haven't," Marco said. "Come eat dinner with us."

"What time is it?" Jean asked. Maybe it was later than he'd thought.

He heard Marco sigh. "It's seven, Jean."

"Wow."

"Are you impressed with yourself?"

"Actually, yeah."

Jean could practically feel Marco rolling his eyes. "Get up," Marco said, and to Jean's surprise he felt a hand pulling at his arm.

"Leave me the fuck alone," Jean growled. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? They'd known each other for like what, two days?

"No." Marco pulled harder, half-dragging Jean out of bed. Damn, he was strong.

"You're going to rip my arm out," Jean said, trying to kick at Marco. His foot landed squarely in Marco's stomach, and he felt a surge of vindictive pleasure at Marco's pained "oof!"

"Jeez. Just get up and have dinner with us. Is that too much to ask?" Marco said. He'd let go of Jean's arm and was rubbing his stomach, looking rueful.

Jean let out a loud sigh, staring up at the ceiling. Marco wasn't moving, just standing at his bed and staring, or possibly glaring, at him. "Fine," Jean said. "Fine, I'll go have dinner with you."

"Good."

Jean chanced a glance at Marco and saw that he was grinning. That bastard. With another sigh he sat up, stretching. "Let me take a piss and then we'll go."

"Aren't you gonna change?"

Jean gave Marco an are-you-serious-I'm-already-doing-you-a-huge-favor-by-getting-out-of-bed look before grabbing his key and leaving the room. Marco followed, locking the door behind them. Jean hoped that Marco wasn't going to wait in the restroom while he peed.

"I'll wait for you outside," Marco said, sensing the impending awkward situation, and Jean nodded, more relieved than he'd like to admit. Thank god.

Five minutes later they were heading down to the dining hall. "Who are we eating with?" Jean asked, already regretting his decision and wondering if he should turn around.

"Just some guys from our floor. Maybe you know some of them already? Thomas is from Trost, I think."

"Not ringing any bells."

"There's also this really big guy named Reiner, and his roommate Bertholdt, and Eren and Armin - "

"Hold up." Jean stopped in his tracks. "Did you say Eren?"

"Yeah." Marco stopped, giving Jean a quizzical look. "You know him?"

"Not Eren Jaeger?"

Marco shrugged. "Dunno. He's from Shinganshina, though."

"Fuck no." Jean turned on his heel, but Marco grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Where are you going? What's wrong with Eren?"

"What's wrong with Eren? He's an absolute prick, that's what's wrong with him."

"He seemed okay when I met him. Maybe a little weirdly intense, but nice."

"Nice?" Jean asked, squinting his eyes at Marco. "Eren is not nice."

"Come on," Marco said firmly, grabbing Jean's arm. "It'll be fine." He began dragging Jean down the sidewalk, ignoring his outraged sputters. "How do you know him, anyway?"

"He moved to my high school in senior year," Jean said. "You ever heard of that crazy domestic terrorist group? They call themselves the Titans?"

"Oh, yeah." Marco shivered. They'd been responsible for hundreds of deaths and disappearances in Maria over the past years, since before he'd been born, and not a single one of them had ever been apprehended. No one knew where they'd come from or why they did what they did; it was a series of seemingly random killings, all done for apparently no reason. News outlets called them "pleasure killings."

"Yeah, well, Jaeger's hell-bent on shutting them down. His mom was killed by them, so now he thinks he's on some crazy revenge-justice quest." Jean knew he sounded callous but didn't care. "He's gonna get himself killed. What's one person going to do against all of them? I mean, a lot of us know what the Titans are capable of. A lot of us know people who have been killed." Jean kicked at the ground. "But we're not stupid enough to go chasing after them. Hell, even the government is useless against them. Eren thinks he can take them all on himself. He's arrogant and stupid and impractical, and when you call him out on it, he goes nuts."

"I, uh, I didn't know that."

Jean grunted and let Marco drag him into the dining hall, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

"Hey guys!" Marco waved and let go of Jean's arm as they approached a group that was taking up two tables. "This is Jean, my roommate." Jean eyed the group with apprehension and wasn't surprised to see Mikasa seated next to Eren. Of course she'd be here too.

"You're rooming with Kirschstein?" Eren asked, nearly spitting out his drink. He glared at Jean, who shot him an equally nasty look. "Well, he can sit here only because he's your roommate."

"Fuck off Jaeger, you don't make the fucking rules," Jean snapped.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence before Marco hastily pulled out a chair. "Here, sit down," he said to Jean, taking a seat next to him. "Uh - Jean, this is Reiner, Bertholdt, Connie, uh - you already know Eren - and Armin. And..." he trailed off.

"Mikasa," Armin supplied. "We know each other from high school." Eren crossed his arms, glaring at Jean.

"Oh yeah, forgot you guys haven't met yet," Reiner said. "Bert and I also know Annie from high school. And she happens to be rooming with Mikasa."

"And I brought Sasha along," Connie added. "She'd never pass up a trip to the dining hall."

"Shut up," Sasha said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes and gravy.

"Don't talk while you're eating," Connie said, wrinkling his nose. "That's disgusting."

Marco introduced himself, grinning, and Jean abruptly stood up. "Getting something to eat," he muttered, because he actually was pretty hungry. And he didn't want to spend another moment near Eren.

"I'll come too!" Marco stood up and followed him.

"I'm leaving as soon as I'm done eating," Jean hissed to Marco as he took a plate.

"Why?" Marco asked. "Come on, besides Eren, you should be fine with everyone else."

Jean shook his head. "Marco, you know? I hate to break it to you," he said sarcastically, "but people in general don't like me."

"'Cause you don't give them the chance to, I bet," Marco said, scooping green beans onto his plate, and Jean opened his mouth to retort before closing it again. What could he say? It was true. But he only did it because it was just so much fucking easier.

They got their food and headed back to the group - "Actually you know what I'm gonna go sit over there - " "No you aren't, Jean, you're coming to sit with us" - a very reluctant Jean trailing behind Marco.

"So Jean, where're you from?" The big blonde dude - Reiner, wasn't it? - was asking him a question.

"Trost." Jean took a bite of chicken, not bothering to elaborate.

"Hey, my roommate's from Trost too! D'you know Thomas Wagner?" Connie asked.

Jean shrugged. "It's a big district."

"Thomas went to our high school," Eren said pointedly.

"Okay, it was a big high school."

To his surprise Marco started laughing. Jeez, what was this guy? "Do you get a kick out of everything I say?" Jean asked, a little too surprised to be annoyed.

"Almost everything," Marco said, grinning.

Jean didn't say anything, just shoved green beans into his mouth, trying not to return the grin. What the hell? Okay, maybe it felt good to know that someone thought he was funny. That didn't mean he had to smile at them.

He spent the rest of the meal mostly in silence, only occasionally joining the conversation when Marco nudged him in the side (why the hell was he responding to Marco, he didn't know) or when one of the others asked him a question.

Most of the time he sat and watched Marco and thought about how weird it was that he was already so comfortable with everyone. If Jean hadn't known any better, he'd have thought that Marco had known these people for years. And, surprisingly, Jean didn't feel as uncomfortable at the table as he thought he would - probably 'cause Marco was doing all the work and talking to everyone. Jean let his gaze flick to every face, observing.

Reiner... he was big. Too big. Scary big. Jean bet he weighed at least 200 pounds. But he seemed friendly, and the way he let his hand linger over Bertholdt's was surprisingly gentle... Jean flushed and tore his gaze away. Okay. I definitely didn't need to see that.

Bertholdt was tall, crazy tall, something Jean could tell even when he was sitting down. He seemed nervous, like he wasn't comfortable being in a large group of people - you and me same, dude, Jean thought - but he seemed to relax every time Reiner brushed his hand over his. Jean squinted.

He let his gaze fall to Annie. As soon as he looked at her, her eyes flicked up from her plate and met his, cool and calculating and actually kind of terrifying. Jean quickly looked away, swallowing, glad that no one had noticed. Christ, she's scary. Scarier than Mikasa, even.

At this, he finally let himself look at Mikasa, who was sitting quietly by Eren. Jean sighed. He was over her by now - mostly - but that didn't mean that he thought Eren deserved to even be friends with her. Actually, in Jean's opinion, Eren didn't even deserve to be friends with Armin. What Eren really deserved was a good punch to the face because why is he looking at me with that stupid smirk on his face -

"Hey." Marco placed a hand on Jean's arm, interrupting his thoughts. "You all right there?"

"What?"

"You looked kinda tense." Marco pried Jean's fork from his hand. "Maybe you should head back."

Yes, please, Jean thought, relieved at finally having an excuse to leave. "Fine with me. Seeya." The farewell had only been intended for Marco, but the rest of the table chimed in with their own good-byes. Jean cringed, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, and waved awkwardly before turning and leaving.

"Surprised you're not asleep already."

Jean looked up from his laptop, taking out an earphone as the door opened and shut behind Marco. "Back so soon?"

Marco shrugged. "There's only so much you can do while hanging out at the dining hall." He sat down on his bed and took off his shoes. "Anyway, it wasn't so bad, right?"

Jean shrugged, flicking his gaze back to his computer screen. "I guess," he said. Fine, it hadn't been as bad as he thought it'd be. Even with Eren there.

"Maybe even a little fun?" Marco chanced.

"Don't push it," Jean muttered, and he didn't miss the grin that crossed Marco's face.

"Okay, okay, I won't. You did good for a beginner, anyway."

"A beginner?" Jean asked, looking up from his computer screen to squint at Marco. "A beginner in what, exactly?"

"A beginner in making friends," Marco said casually, his face straight. Jean glared. A split second later Marco burst out laughing, falling backwards onto his bed. "You should see your face!" he said, clutching his stomach.

Jean 'hmph-ed' and turned back to his laptop. "You're an ass," he muttered.

"Sorry," said Marco, not sounding very sorry at all. "It's just - you make the best faces. It's hilarious."

And for some reason Jean found that he wasn't really bothered by Marco's teasing. It was weird. Jean had never met anyone like him, someone who genuinely seemed like a nice person through and through. "You're weird," he said aloud without thinking.

"And you're not?" Marco said. He was still lying on his bed, looking up at the ceiling, and Jean looked over at him to see the grin still on his face.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face."

That only made Marco laugh more. "Okay, okay."

"... You're still smiling."

Marco looked up then, craning his head to look at Jean from his position on his bed. "You know what, Jean?"

"What?"

"So are you."