Hey y'all. So I'm still working on catching up with these. I just have a whole bunch going on right now, but I promise I'll eventually catch up. (On my schedule, I'm supposed to be on drabble #12 at this point so it's not impossible to catch up!) I spent the entirety of my spring break working on my Jean cosplay so I didn't have much free time and now I'm back at school which is a little hectic right now, but fret not! Even if I'm late, I will eventually do all of these, I swear.

Anyway, in regards to this one, I don't think I did the idea in my head justice but I really wanted to post something so this is where this one's at. Please review and let me know how you liked it!

Chapter Rating: T is good, I think.
Chapter Warning: Uh, some mature themes, not in the sexual content sense (I make no promises in that regard, ever) but in the traumatic sense. Trigger warning I guess is what they call it? Well, that was meant to be there more than it is. It's actually kinda light in that sense too. Oh, and whoever the "third person" is, they swear a lot. So be warned.
World: Modern AU because like, they haven't seen the beach in the canon sooooo. Also, important to know that Jean is aquaphobic in this one.
Disclaimer: I wanted to include that little piece of information (the aquaphobia thing) as a shoutout to the literal greatest Jean/Marco fanfiction, which can be found here on (updated version on ao3) titled Droplets and written by Prof. Lemonade. It is amazing and beautiful and you should all go read it. It's my fave forever and ever.
Word Count: 1655

Five: A Day at the Beach

"Jean, come on! Pleeeeeeease?" Marco was tugging at Jean's wrist, trying to get him to stand, but Jean was adamant in remaining where he sat, seated on his laid-out towel.

"No, Marco. I told you, I'm not going in the ocean," Jean said, voice gruff with his grouchiness.

"Just for a little while! You look like you're melting out here in the sun!"

"I happen to like the sun," Jean replied, tearing his hand forcefully away from Marco's.

Marco pouted but conceded, running off at the call of his name from Reiner.

Jean grit his teeth against the annoyance he felt at himself. So stupid. The boy of his dreams was basking in the summer sun, fucking glowing, pulling his hands and flashing a blinding smile just for him and what did he do? He buried all those things under a blanket he liked to call "anxiety" and pushed the golden, freckled god away. It was that anxiety that prevented him from getting up and getting into the water with Marco.

It was tragic, really. Because when Jean thought about water, there was nothing but horror and terror associated with it. He imagined it sticking to his skin and dragging him down, filling his nose and flooding his lungs as he gasped for air. The thought alone was enough to send chills down his spine.

But watching Marco... That was something else entirely. The way he pranced, fucking pranced, through the shallows, giggling, fucking giggling, as he shielded his face from water that Reiner was splashing at him, the way the water sparkled, fucking sparkled, on his golden, freckled skin. Damn. The water didn't make Marco look good, Marco made the water look good.

It was shitty how badly it made Jean want to get up, rip off his shirt and gallop into the salty sea to be able to see Marco up close in all of his glory. It was actually kind of stupid, how ridiculously much Jean wanted to sprint sloppily down the sloping sand and fling himself onto Marco, a splay of flying limbs clambering over those strong, broad shoulders. It was embarrassing, the strong desire Jean had to litter Marco's freckled neck with butterfly kisses. or maybe tackle him to the ground and do something much less appropriate for their public location.

So it was with a hearty sigh that Jean tugged his knees into his chest and rested his chin atop them, continuing to watch his friends as they enjoyed themselves.

He wasn't alone for long though. To his excitement and terror, Marco came trotting back up the beach only a few minutes later, shaking his hair out like a wet dog. Jean tried carefully to look like his dodging of the droplets was only due to annoyance and not what it really was.

Marco plopped down besides him without any preamble, still dripping. Jean inched away as a scowl retook his face. "Watch it!" he said, with a bit too much force.

Marco simply smiled that stupid, dazzling smile of his and looked at Jean, focusing that intense stare on him. They sat like that, looking at each other, for what seemed to Jean as eternity. Until, finally, Marco said, "Jean, are you afraid of the water?"

Jean's world came to a sudden, screeching halt at those words. He had spent years, almost two full decades, keeping that hidden from anyone but Marco… Marco knew at hardly a glance. It was something that Jean normally loved about the other boy. He just seemed to know things. But now, what had once seemed so amazing, had pierced through Jean's fake exterior and shattered everything he'd struggled to maintain.

The panic must have been obvious on Jean's face because Marco's smile quickly fled and was replaced by that kicked puppy look he got when he was about to apologize. "It's okay if you are!" he said quickly. "A-And you can tell me I'm wrong! I-I just thought that maybe… What I mean is… Well, I-I'm not going to judge you or anything like that. I just thought maybe you'd like to...to...well, to talk to someone about it. If...if you like." It was incredible, really. How quickly Marco had gone from relaxed and stunning to a puddle of stuttering, nervous apologies and guilty looks.

If it had been anyone else, Jean probably would've barked at them, growled out some stupid refutal of their comment and turned harshly away, even going so far as to stalk off toward the pier.

But looking at Marco, seeing the genuineness of his kind smile and his bashful blush, Jean simply couldn't get mad. In the end, he simply tucked his mouth behind his arms where they sat crossed on his knees and mumbled something entirely unintelligible in response.

In that moment, Marco was back to his state of intuitively being able to read Jean and he didn't press Jean to repeat himself. Instead, he stole sidelong glances and bumped Jean's shoulder with his own.

Not long after, Marco picked up an idle chatter, talking about anything and everything about himself, even if they were simple things, things Jean already knew.

Eventually, when the sun was beginning to set, and Reiner and Bertholdt and Krista and Ymir had packed up their things and headed off to some restaurant on the docks, Jean found himself still seated beside Marco, staring at the sun as it sunk further behind the ocean.

The silence was comfortable between them, the only sound being the waves and the few people left on the beach.

Finally, Marco said, "Hey Jean," in a low, quiet voice that Jean wished to hear for the rest of his life.

He didn't let that on of course, as he turned to look at Marco and grunted out, "Hm?" in way of response.

Marco wasn't looking at him, though; he was staring at the ocean, smiling like the huge dork he was. "Do me a favor, would you?" Jean immediately felt skeptical, and even more so as Marco stood and held his hand out to Jean. "Please?" he said, before Jean could even say no. "I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

Jean spent a long, painful minute just worrying his bottom lip between his teeth so harshly he thought he might draw blood. But before he knew it, he was reaching out to take Marco's hand and letting the taller boy haul him to his feet.

Marco didn't let go of his hand as they walked toward the ocean, and that in itself was something distracting enough to keep Jean's initial panic at bay. His heart felt like it was going to burst any second, something that was not helped when the sand began to grow wet under his bare feet.

Just before they reached the water, Jean came to a stop. "Marco, wait, I… I don't think I can do this!" he blurted, trying to keep his voice down so that he wouldn't draw any attention to himself. His pride wouldn't allow him to make a fool of himself in front of strangers, all freckled angels be damned.

Marco simply turned to look at him and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Yes, you can. Look, we'll take it really slow. Just your feet, okay?" he said, with another of those blinding smiles.

Jean chewed on his lip some more before taking a deep breath and then nodding.

It was with agonizing slowness that Marco led him into the shallows, and his grip on Marco's hand was probably excruciating in its tightness, though Marco didn't seem to mind. Finally, the cold water touched Jean's feet and he jumped, startled, clenching his teeth. He tried to will away negative thoughts, but all he could think of was the thick, suffocating stickiness that he imagined around his ankles. He pictured it clinging to him and not letting go, dragging him further in until there was no return.

Jean didn't Marco was trying to speak to him until he felt his warm hand against his cheek. "Jean?" Marco said, probably repeating himself. His face was calm and sure, a smile gracing his lips in a way that was so comforting that Jean could begin to stable his breath, which he hadn't realized had gone slightly erratic until now. He focused on looking at Marco's face instead of down at his feet.

"You're doing really well," Marco said softly. The praise made heat rush to Jean's cheeks and he suddenly felt very self-conscious about their closeness. He opened his mouth to stutter a reply but the tide came in with a larger wave than normal and he was hissing as the water splashed higher on his legs, drawing his attention entirely back to the ocean and the horror it brought with it.

Firming his touch on Jean's face, Marco spoke quickly. "I think that's enough for today," was all he said, but Jean could've kissed him for it.

Jean nodded thankful and together they moved away from the water. They walked up and down the beach a bit until finally, the sun had really gone. Jean tried not to think too much about how Marco never once let go of his hand. It was odd, wasn't it? Jean liked to think his crush on Marco wasn't so obvious and they were good friends, considering the short length of time they'd known each other, but he never thought Marco would do something like hold his hand on the beach.

It was as Marco was packing up their things that Jean found himself staring again, until Marco straightened and tilted his head in confusion at him. "Jean? Is everything alright?" he asked. And that pure fucking concern, combined with the way the starlight shone around Marco, just barely lighting his handsome features…

Well, it was enough to send Jean's heart racing and in the end, he had to kiss him after all.