Alternatively titled:

OOPS SPARKS WROTE A GREASE AU

The beginning is the words to the Grease song Summer Nights, but the lyrics are embellished and made not to rhyme because they aren't singing in this.

Marcy = fem!Marco
Amelia = fem!Armin
Eren's brother = male!Mikasa because I couldn't think of a better name

"Awh, man, I wanna hear what Jeany-boy did at the beach!" Connie crowed from the row of bleachers below Jean himself. At Connie's words, the rest of the T-Birds started talking to Jean all at once, hopping over seats and bars to ruffle his hair and ask inane questions.

"Yeah, come on, Jean, what did ya' do?"

"Meet any girls?"

Jean sighed, running his hand through his hair to re-spike what had fallen out of its meticulously styled, I-so-rolled-out-of-bed-this-hot look.

"Eh, it was nothin'." he grunted.

Connie raised an eyebrow. "Sure, Jean, nothing."

Eren, sprawled across two seats a few from where Jean was sat, laughed. "Man, tell us about the chick, then. Did ya' get in her panties?"

The chorus of encouragements rose up again.

"Come on, Jean-"

"Yeah, tell us 'bout the girl!"

"Was she hot?"

"Say, what did you do this summer, Marcy?" Amelia asked, looking over from where she was plaiting Sasha's hair.

Marcy blushed and bit her lip before answering.

"Oh, I spent most of it at the beach. I met... a boy there."

Ymir cackled, perched on the edge of the table with her arm around her girlfriend, Christa. "So you're telling me you aren't gonna do anything because of some guy you met, at a beach?"

Marcy spun around, eyebrows furrowed in faint irritation. "It was something, I dunno, something special."

Ymir snorted. "There ain't no such thing as a special boy. You wonder at all why I gave up on them altogether?"

"He was really romantic..." the anger faded out of Marcy's voice as she spoke, and she gazed up at the clouds gathering dark in the sky, daydreaming.

Jean tipped his head back to look at the grey sky and folded his arms behind his head. "Ah, do you really wanna know all the horny details?"

"Are you telling me," Eren demanded, "that you actually got with a girl?"

"Oi," Eren's brother smacked him around the side of the head with a well placed fist, berating him with an eye roll, "Let the man speak."

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you, yeah?" Jean yawned. "Now quit yappin' and let me tell ya' what happened."

"It was just summer lovin'. It was so good, though, she was so pretty..."

Marcy sighed. "It was a summer love, pure and simple. Gosh, it all happened so fast, it's practically a blur.."

"She was basically crazy for me," Jean bragged.

"He was just so cute, it was almost unreal," Marcy said, giggling as all of the other girls turned to face her, 5 sets of hands resting on cheeks and 10 elbows perched on the table tops.

"Tell me more, Jean, you can't just leave it at that..." whined Reiner. Jean leant back to the tall blonde standing above him and grinned. "Did you get very far with her?"

"Tell me more, Marcy," Sasha pleaded, "Like, did he have a car?" Her eyes were gleaming and she was so close to Marcy that she could feel Sasha's hair on her skin as it blew in the gentle breeze.

"Chill, Reiner. She was swimming in the water, but then, she must've gotten a cramp or something. She just, whoosh, went under." Jean mimed with his arms a girl dropping like a stone into the sea water.

"He was running around in his swim trunks by the surf. Definitely showing off!" Marcy's words even made Ymir chuckle, and she didn't quite know whether to be pleased or worried.

"So, because I'm a lifeguard and all, I saved her life! She nearly drowned."

"He pretended to help me, and starting splashing around."

All the guys roared with laughter and thrust their hips crudely. Connie jumped up to Jean's row, sitting on Eren's feet to talk to him face to face. Eren started to complain, but shut up quickly when Connie moved onto his stomach instead.

"Did she put up a fight?" he hinted, waving around an invisible sword (or what Jean hoped he meant to be a sword).

"Was it love?" Christa asked Marcy quietly.

"Not... not at first sight, no, but it sure felt like it afterwards..." said Marcy wistfully.

"Jean, this is good an' all, but did you actually get with her? Or did you insist on dating her first?" asked Reiner. With a groan, Jean nodded.

"Yeah, I took her bowling down the arcade first, she's kinda traditional. But I made out with her under the docks afterwards though!"

"He wasn't quite the gentleman, although he did take me out for a walk, and paid for my lemonade. We, er, we stayed out until 10."

"Wow." Ymir muttered dryly, "That's really late. He sounds like a drag."

"He got real, um, friendly," Marcy blushed even more than she had during the summer, so much so that her freckles were almost invisible under the red flush. "He held my hand all the time."

"She was pretty damn friendly when she pulled me down in the sand." Jean squirmed around in his seat, mimicking a girl's voice; "Ah, ugh, Jeaaan, aaaaaaah, ah, oh baby harder pleeeeease~" The chaos that caused attracted the attention of some of the other students, who looked around in confusion at them, which only served to make them laugh harder.

"He was so young, a few months younger than me: than us. Only just turned 18!" Marcy fanned her face with her hand. "He was still cute though, and I liked his haircut."

"She was so good..." Jean's voice trailed off a little, his sentence hanging. A pointed cough from Eren brought him back down to Earth. Jean grinned wider, pulling on the roots of his hair. "She liked the undercut. Kept running her hands through it, and pulled pretty tight when things got rough, if you get what I mean."

"It must've ended okay though, right?" Amelia looked Marcy up and down. "You don't look heartbroken."

"It was over by the end of the summer." said Marcy with an air of finality.

"I mean, I told her we'd still be friends, but... If I ever saw her again, then maybe, but since I won't, I don't care. No way. No."

"We made a vow to say in love though. True love." Marcy's hands twisted together and it was Annie who, rather brusquely, voiced what all of the girls were thinking.

"You consummated it? You fucked?"

There was a beat of silence from the infamous Pink Ladies table before Marcy nodded.

"Yes, yes we... did."

"I wonder what she's doing now though." The wistful way Jean's voice lowered had all of the guys wolf whistling, and he blew them all off with a middle fingers. "Shut up, she were real pretty. Marcy, her name was. She was an angel, yeah? With this, this dark silky hair and hundred of freckles all over her body."

"On her tits?"

Jean sneered, then thought for a moment, and nodded.

"A few."

"So what was Mr Hot Lifeguard's name then?" Ymir asked.

"Jean," Marcy swooned. "He's French."

Another moment of stunned silence overcame the table. It was unheard of for the Pink Ladies to be shocked speechless once, let alone twice in a single morning.

"Not..." started Amelia, but she trailed off, not wanting to upset Marcy, who she had taken a liking to.

"Not what?" inquired Marcy.

"She means, 'not Jean Kirchstein'?" Ymir said bluntly. Marcy blanched.

"Yes, that's him. How did you know? Do you know him?"

"Know him? Marcy, honey, everyone at Rose High knows Jean Kirchstein. He's the biggest playboy goin' at this school! Ain't that right, Christa?" Ymir nudged Christa in the shoulder, who winced and sighed.

"She's right, you know. But, he looked kind of subdued this morning, so, you know, maybe he really liked you."

Marcy's eyes glowed. "What were the chances of us meeting again? I never thought we would. Could you take me to him?"

The Pink Ladies all shared a look, then turned back to Marcy.

"Weeeeell," Sasha said, "We suppose so. But... don't say we didn't warn ya' if he ain't like you remember him. He ain't no romantic sweetheart here."

Confused, Marcy cocked her head to the side and frowned. "What do you mean, if he ain't like I remember him?"

"Honey, here, Kirchstein's a total punk. Literally. He's a T-Bird, he goes around in his leathers, smoking and swearing at everybody. Like us, but at least we're somewhat civilised." Ymir crossed her legs and raised an eyebrow at the nonchalant expression on Marcy's face. "What's that look for, doll?"

"Oh really, did you think he wasn't all that in the summer?" Marcy laughed, covering her mouth with her hand and tipping her head back. "Jean thought he was so cool and suave in his jacket, but honestly, he's a big softie. I'll show you. Where will he be now?"

Annie pointed towards the football pitch, where a group of lads were lounging at the top of the bleachers. From what Marcy could see, they all wore black jackets that she assumed were the infamous leather ones and were crowded around one of the boys in particular, who was lying on his back looking up at the sky. She couldn't see his face.

"There." Amelia's arm stretched out from beside Marcy, pointing towards the boy laying down. "That's Jean, most likely. He's pretty much the ringleader."

Now she knew who it was, it became obvious to Marcy that the boy was Jean. She knew his body, and she recognised the casual way his arm was draped over his face. He had regularly laid like that on the beach, albeit then he had been lacking a shirt.

"Hey, Bert," Reiner threw a small stone at the tall boy sitting a few seats down from him who hadn't said a word since they had begun to interrogate Jean about his summer. "Are the Pinkies watching us? They're all looking at the bleachers."

The boy, Bert, nodded, and spoke quietly. "I think so. They've got a new girl as well, she hasn't got a jacket on."

Reiner puffed out his chest, and pulled Jean upright from his slumped position by the scruff of his neck, ignoring all of the protests thrown his way. "I bet they're showing her who the coolest in the school are. And the hottest. Oh hey, look, they're pointing at us! Act natural boys, 'specially you, Bert. Maybe Annie'll notice you!"

Jean scoffed and folded his arms against his chest, refusing to look over to the lunch tables.

"You just want someone to notice you, Reiner." Bert muttered. Eren leant down and gave him a high-five, dodging the hit that Reiner tried to land on his back.

"So what's the new chick look like then? She hot?" Eren asked.

His brother glanced over to the girls and hummed. "I suppose so, if you like blurry chicks in the distance. She's got dark hair though. That's all I can make out."

Jean looked up quickly, but Eren noticed the movement.

"What, didja think it'd be your summer girl? No way, Jean, just 'cause she's got dark hair! You've got it bad."

"I'm going over there." Marcy stood up and brushed down her skirt, letting any crumbs fall out of the pleats onto the floor.

"Good luck," Ymir snorted, "You'll be eaten alive."

Marcy deemed not to answer Ymir and flounced away towards the bleachers without looking back. Ymir laid an arm around Christa's shoulder and groaned.

"Well, she's a lost cause."

"Oh hey, hey, look, she's coming over here!"

"What, really?"

"No way!"

"Gosh, she is hot."

"How big are her tits, wow."

The whoops and astonished catcalls erupted into life around Jean, but he couldn't utter a word. He was speechless, just watching the girl, his Marcy, approaching with a determined stride, her gorgeous black hair flowing out behind her. He had recognised her the instant he had laid eyes on her figure, intimately familiar with her curves as he was.

Both Eren and Connie noticed his silence.

"Jean, are you alright?" Connie waved a hand in front of Jean's face wildly, frowning. "Earth to Jean?"

"I think he's star-struck." said Eren in an exaggerated whisper. Jean snapped back to reality and flipped him the bird again.

"It's Marcy, you idiots!" he yelled.

Silence fell over the bleachers. Out of the corner of his eye, Jean watched Marcy approaching. In a split second decision, he vaulted over three rows of seats at once, down to the pitch. Ignoring the yells and frantic questions from the rest of the lads, he started up into a stumbling run across the uneven surface of the grass.

He ran, oh god did he run, straight towards his beautiful Marcy. Up close, she looked so perfect, in her uniform and with her little satchel bag and Jean felt his breath hitch.

"Marcy?" he shouted.

Marcy couldn't stop the stupid, stupid grin spreading across her face at the sight of Jean, in all his stupid leather and stupid hair-gel and his stupid sexy smile, running full pelt towards her, without a care for his friends or probably his whole reputation. He was coming for her, and he was calling her name.

"Jean?"

She started to run too, her pumps slipping around her ankles but she didn't care, because it was Jean and he was here and he was real and not a dream and she could touch him again like she thought she'd never be able to again.

"Marcy!"

"Jean..."

They stopped in front of one another, both panting hard and not saying a word, for fear of breaking the spell of their amazement. Jean reached out a tentative hand and dragged trembling fingertips down her cheek, eyes flitting from the freckles dusting them to the lip snagged between white teeth. Marcy looked deep into Jean's eyes, desperately searching for an answer in the amber that she wasn't sure of the question for.

"Marcy?" Jean whispered. "Is it really you?"

Marcy nodded, eyes tearing up. "Yes, yes, yes, Jean, it's me, and you're you and... and I never thought I'd see you again."

She placed her hand on top of Jean's, pressing it to her cheek firmly and twisted her other hand into the material of Jean's shirt, pulling him in close to her. They were nose to nose, breathing in each other's air and it was Marcy who couldn't stand the tension and pressed her lips to his, standing up a little straighter to reach him.

Jean groaned and threaded his hand through the hair at the back of Marcy's head, the silk strands soft and familiar and it was as if he had found the missing puzzle piece he'd never even realised he'd lost.

As the kiss deepened, Marcy tilting her head and pulling him in flush to her chest, the heavens opened. It started with a few drops of cold rain on the back of Jean's neck. He wrinkled his nose at the sensation, which made Marcy smile onto his lips and then he decided that he did not care one bit about the rain.

Then it was heavier, and Marcy's hair was soaked through and they were kissing in the rain on an empty football pitch and Jean tore his lips away from Marcy's.

"We are so cliché," he murmured. Marcy rolled her eyes and Jean forgot about the rain all over again in favour of wiping the smirk off her (beautiful, heavenly) face with his tongue and lips and hands.

AN - Told you day 6 would be happy and let me tell you this is the cheesiest, fluffiest thing I have ever written ever.

The Grease AU everybody.

Day 7's... well it's most likely going to be angsty. Maybe not though, who knows, not me.