New budget of words per chapter: 8,000.

Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan.

SEVENTY-ONE

Marco wanted me to nail him, didn't he?

I mean, the way he stirred his body so that my finger would be deeper told me that much.

Or am I just crazy and made up all that?

I was taking a bath, you know, to clear my head and all. I was shaking, guessing it was the cold water, but I knew better.

I was fingering Marco's anus just a few minutes ago. I can't just stop thinking about it, and it wasn't even for that purpose. I was giving him a suppository and for a moment, that kind of changed.

Did I hurt him? His expression did looked pained and I almost lost control there, but as I reflected more and more about his face, I concluded that there was pleasure and yearning there, or well, that's what I want to believe. I can't bear the guilt that I've hurt him, not again.

So yeah, the more I though about the event, the more hard I got and eventually, I masturbated. Had to do it, no point in abnegating it. The images and small clips were vivid in my mind as I jerked my dong off. I moaned pretty loud and bleated Marco's name several times. I lent my forearm against the moist, slippery tile as my other hand stroked my dick. I looked down and couldn't really distinguish the water from my jizz and I know I've sprayed a deal already.

I felt the ebb of bliss from the orgasm overflow me after the first wank-off and exhaled, releasing all the pleasure with a soft, deep moan. Oh man, it feels good and I wish I could feel better.

After the blowjobs, I never actually though we'd do anything else more intimate, like nailing his ass. Of course it was around the back of my mind, like sex, but I just never though it possible, not this soon. It was kinda sudden and unexpected after that talk we had about sex. I just though we'd do go on a slow pace, like maybe in summer or next year things will get hotter. I dunno. Not gonna lie, right now, I wish it were sooner. Again, I was just giving him a medicine and it suddenly changed, it's not like I told him 'Oi Marco, lemme nail your ass'.

I sighed. It shouldn't make me think this much. I was just taking care of him...

But instead, it ushered that horny self in me again with the handjobs and wet dreams and the yearn to feel and touch and to fuck him and... and...

I masturbated four times before I sauntered out, shirtless, disheveling my hair while drying it with a white towel. Marco snored and I whipped around, a bit startled. There he was, sound asleep, cocooned within my sheets like a caterpillar. I smiled at his figure and couldn't help but chuckle.

Later that afternoon, I was playing CoD in my room with low volume when I heard him groan, -"Mhm..."

I peeked at my bed from my sitting position and spotted him rolling over, hugging my quilts with both arms and legs.

I chortled and turned my attention to my TV until I heard him mumble something, -"... mhn, J... Je... an..."

Huh?

I peeked again and this time, he had one of his hands in his pants, stroking his groin while he 'hooked' with my pillow, ravening his tongue against the fluffy surface, -"... y... you smell so... good."

My face burned. Well, my pillows and quilts had my scent, but considering he has been on my bed this whole day, I bet all my coins that now it smells more like him and I was dying to bury my nose in it.

-"... J-Jean... don't s... stop...,"- He bleated, scrubbing his crotch more vigorously and running his tongue trough my pillow, -"I... I want to... touch you too..."

You can imagine my actual state. My whole body heated at his words. He was definitely having a wet dream and I couldn't help but wonder about it: was I fingering his ass? Penetrating him? Blowing him? Oh God, help me.

Then he started moaning and so help me, he mumbled my name louder and louder. I stood up and began poking his shoulder, -"M-Marco...?"- What am I doing? Let him have his wet dream, man!

I retraced my steps and watched him masturbate, biting my lips and wishing I'd be there, but I can't, I have to let him sleep. He must be really tired after puking so much.

Marco was actually having a wet dream about me. I can't believe it. I always though that that was just a quirk of me, but again, I'm reminded that I haven't seen all of Marco's sides. I've had my share of wet dreams about him too, but I've never seen or heard Marco having one and if he had, he hasn't told me yet.

Glee welled me as I watched Marco groping himself and heard him uttering my name so loud, rattling my ears and arousing me all over. Christ, how I wish to be part of that dream...

Abruptly, he began to plunge his hips back and forth against the amassed quilts, practically yelling my name. I squeaked and without noticing, I took a step forward. My heart wanted to leave my chest as my whole body blazed. What is Marco dreaming?! Holy shit, is he fucking me? Damn, his dream is much more erotic than mines all clustered, and that's something!

I was gawking at him when his stomach grumbled. Oookay, talk about haphazard. He groaned and dug his splattered hand out of his pant and clutched his belly, -"Ugh..."- He muttered, raising his head and opening one eye halfway while biting his lips, as if suppressing something.

After a few seconds of blanching, I snapped and rushed to his side, quickly grabbing and hoisting the bucket up, ready to latch his barf.

But then...

-"So... hungry..."- He stammered before slumping his head back onto my pillow.

My mouth gaped and my eye twitched, too stunned to say or do anything. Then, I remembered he hasn't eaten anything at all and it was already past 4' o clock. I joggled him, -"H-hey, Marco, wake up."- As I gripped his shoulder, I tried to ignore the powerful desire to pin him down and fuck- shit. The sexual attraction is strong in this one, eh?

Marco rubbed his eyes and yawned, -"Mhn..."- He mumbled something again.

-"Y-you have to e-eat something."- I was stuttering. Great.

He stretched and yawned again, -"But I'm sleepy..."

-"You just said you're hungry."- I snorted.

-"Why do you talk so much...?"- With his head still carved on my pillow, he raised his hand and fumbled the air near my face. I had my mouth gaped, about to reply, when his hand found my lips and his slim, soft finger dipped in.

My face lit up the moment my tongue slid beneath his smooth skin. I can't describe how hard I got down south; his finger were really, really tender and I think it's needless to say that it had cum on it. Without realizing, I started licking it, savoring his jizz and now I discern it was actually... slightly sweet, which was still odd, considering he hasn't eaten any candy at all. He does eat a lot of sweets (he had a sweet tooth), but since he's been vomiting the whole day, his stomach's empty so...

Marco yelped and pulled his hand away, -"J-Jean...?"

I shook my head and snapped awake, scratching my neck's sides. I just realized I was sweating and I, once again, stained myself, -"T-that was, erm..., some dream, huh?"- I was gonna apologize, I swear. What the fuck happened to my vowels?

Marco's face grew red, his eyes widening. Then, he took my pillow and covered his face, all fluttered, -"I-I... don't remem -I mean, I don't k-know what you're talking ab-about."

I chortled, -"Sure,"- I gulped and cleared my throat, kind of awkward, unable to remove the scene from my mind. Marco was so brisk back there and I couldn't help but wonder if he'll have that same impetus during sex, if we get to that, -"I'll, uh..., make you some Lipton soup. Be right back."

I headed downstairs, but before I stepped out of the room, I looked at him over my shoulder, about to ask him something, and caught him chewing his lips and and ogling at my back. Oh right, still shirtless. A grin rose to my lips as I spoke, -"Good view, huh?"

He was so concentrated on my back that he didn't even noticed I busted him. He cringed and quickly looked away, his cheeks burning red. He was hiding a growing smile, but was failing.

-"You want crackers with the soup?"- I asked him, eyes on his bitten lips.

He parted his lips to speak and his smile finally bloomed, -"S-sure."

I smirked and nodded, stepping out and heading downstairs. While stirring the soup with a spoon, I couldn't stop thinking about Marco and his revue, about his chewed lips as he ogled me. I had a smirk that reached my ears and I must look incredibly idiotic, grinning like an idiot at my own thoughts. Marco and wet dream? Who would've thought? I mean, I know it's normal between couples that are genuinely attracted to each other, but come on, Marco? As pure, loving and naive as he is? I'm the one with the perverted mind, not him. Guess appearances do deceive. Gotta write it down in my mind:

Marco's a pervert. Marco's not as naive as you though. Appearances deceive.

There we go.

Somehow, that made me jolly. It made me feel not so deviant.

I snorted at that, at how pathetic it actually sounded -and funny. It's true nonetheless and it's fine by me.

I scooped the soup out from the pot and poured it into a bowl which laid over a larger plate. I dug four crackers from the box and placed them beside the bowl and sauntered upstairs, careful on my steps to avoid a spillover. The soup's steam and the stove's hotness made me sweat so I had an additional medicament for him, if you know what I mean.

Up in my room, Marco wasn't in his bed anymore, so I placed the plate on the nightstand beside my bed carefully, despite my anxiety, and knocked on my bathroom's door, -"Oi, Marco, you okay in there?"

Marco gasped, startled again, -"Y-yeah, I'm okay. Just changing up."

I shook my head and smirked, -"Aw, bummer, I really enjoyed watching you on that pj."

I knew he was blushing behind this door, -"Um, I-I'm sorry, I guess."

I laughed, -"It's fine, freckles, I was just joking -I mean, no, I-I really liked how you looked with those, but -argh, you know what I mean."

He laughed too, -"I know."

-"Just, uh, let me know if you feel like puking or... anything else."- I stepped away and waited for him. I was glad when he came out alright; he had a blue t-shirt with a console control imprinted on it and his floppy trousers perfectly matched it. My content was temporary though, I just noted he actually lost a few pounds. It made my heart ache. I stared at the soup and wondered if it was a good idea for him to eat it. It was light so it won't exactly help him earn some pounds back. Then again, it was light because his stomach was delicate.

He was combing his hair with his hand while looking down, murmuring something to himself; when he looked and saw me, he leap a bit, startled, and his eyes immediately dropped to my naked chest (oh come on, it was genuinely hot in here, alright? Yeah, I know it's raining outside), his cheeks flaring at the process. I noted how he fidgeted around, specially his hips, his staggering legs treading forward, trying to hide something. A hard-on, maybe?

-"H-hey, I cooked you a soup. Lipton. Hope you like it, cuz' I don't."- I laughed nervously, attempting to avert my eyes from his groin.

-"Th-thank you."- He stammered with a muffled laugh.

He treaded forward, kinda clumsily, icing on my 'Marco has a boner' theory. He sat on my bed and placed the place just above his crotch.

I sat beside him and watched him slurp the stuff. I kept making faces and he noticed, releasing a breathy laugh, -"Dissimulating is not your forte, is it?"

I slacked back onto my bed, hands behind my head and torso displayed, -"You know me."- I looked at my ceiling, but kept an watchful eye on him, very dissemble and sly, despite what he just said, which was true. From here, I could see his groin trough a gap between his tight and the plate and he was definitely having a boner. He was managing it pretty well from what I can discern, unlike a certain someone that goes fucktarted.

-"Well, you should try it again. It's pretty good, which is a surprise, coming from you."- He jibed, giggling.

-"Hey,"- I sat up and pinched his warm cheek, -"What does that mean?"- That I was a horrible cook, unlike him.

He laughed, so vividly and genuine.

A tender smile rose to my lips, -"I'm glad you're feeling better."

Our eyes met and he smiled too, -"Thanks to you."

I lent closer to him and kissed his cheek. The moment my lips met his soft surface, he chocked on the soup and a low thud invaded my ears. I tried to suppress a grin, but I failed, and was peeking trough that gap blatantly, not even bothering to dissimulate now. Yup, it was up and hard. Marco was going trough that stage, getting boners from every trifle deed. Believe me, I know how it feels. I went trough it.

Marco looked away, embarrassed.

I could smell it, the awkwardness was brewing. I tried to appease it, -"So, uh..., wanna play some videogames after you finish that?"

Marco unraveled my true intentions. He nodded, -"S-sure."

The atmosphere mollified a bit after that and when he finished, we played a few games and while doing so, I noted how distant he was, like he was trying not to get too close to me, but not in disgust, it was more like... fear or anxiety, embarrassment even. I grew worried and distressed, -"Hey, Marco,"- I broke the long lasting silence, -"You okay? You seem jumpy around me."

Marco breathed out, distressed too, and covered his face with his palms, -"Oh no, it shows, right? I'm so sorry, I don't want to make you feel rejected!"

I paused the game and turned my full attention on him, -"It's alright, I don't feel like that,"- Well, maybe a little, but it was trivial, nothing to worry about, -"I'm more worried about you."

He departed his face from his hands and looked at me, his cheeks red, -"I'm... sorry for that too, I'm just..."- He bit his lip and looked away.

-"Marco...?"- I called, peeking his way, but he hid more, -"You can talk to me, you know, if something's on your mind,"- I knew exactly what was on his mind, -"I can help you, you know I won't be ashamed of you for anything."

But Marco was shy and naive. Slowly, he craned his neck towards me and nodded, by an inchmeal, -"I... I know. Just... give me some time."

I know a lot of guys hate those last words, but I nodded, recognizing that I have no leash on him; if he wants space and time, I give it to him without second though, because hey, we all need it once in a while, -"Okay."- Besides, what Marco had in his mind wasn't anything serious, just, hmm, too dirty and naughty for him. He didn't quite know how to deal with it, but I'll help him, because of two reasons: it's me, the most pervy dude on Earth, and well, I'm his boyfriend and there's no one else.

He relaxed and sighed in relief, -"Thanks... Jean."

He'll come around soon enough.

-"Ma-Marco...,"- I bleated, gripping said guy's hip tightly against mines, -"I-it's not in..."- Not completely, at least.

Marco wheezed, his face minutes before exploding, leaving a damp air draft by, -"O-okay..."

I pushed him onto bed, pinning him while I hovered my dick close to his rectum, -"Just... breathe..."

He inhaled before I even finished those words. I breathed deeply too before I began to thrust it in, with more force this time. Marco yelped, his body twitching and shuddering madly with each shove, but it wasn't enough, I have to keep doing it. I held his hips while he wrapped his legs around my torso as I made way in, increasing my strength. My boyfriend puffed more humid breaths and groaned louder and louder, pain mixed with ecstasy. It had to feel better than this, but for now, I had to gratify with what I have.

I kept pushing and got distraught at the closeness of an orgasm. I was reaching my limit and from the looks of it, Marco was too. His whole body was splotched in red, specially his face, I can barely see his freckles, -"J-Jean... please..."- He slurred, his mouth gaped and saliva trailing down his chin. His eyes begged me to not stop, to push harder if I have to, but whatever happens, don't stop.

I drove and lunged my hips against his faster and harder when I saw his expression. I loved it and I wanted to see it again. More and more.

Marco's moans turned to cries filled with pain, pleasure and desperation. He jolted his body upwards, clutching the sheets with all his might as he shouted my name briskly, -"Jean..!"

For a moment, that climax seemed out of reach. I was stuck in this horrible position. I needed a boost, I needed...

Without thinking twice, I spit saliva onto my cock, as much as I could. If Marco was any way near rational, he would've finger wagged me and complained about it being disgusting, but right now, he didn't cared -hell, I bet he didn't even felt it, -"O-one more time..."- Miraculously, my plan worked and I did one, final but powerful trust, educing a sharp shriek from Marco, which dissipated into deep and genuine moans when the orgasm and the bliss came, drifting through the air and sipping into my ears.

I moaned loudly before I slumped onto Marco's feeble body, our foreheads colliding. I panted and shivered at the continuous amount of jizz I was spluttering in his rectum. It felt glorious... this all felt good. I cupped Marco's face and looked at him straight in the eye, -"I love you..."

Marco could barely form any word in his current condition, but he nodded and assented my statement with a sloppy, but passionate kiss, running his hands across my bare back, prickling my whole skin. I answered and we embroiled our bodies even closer and lost all sense of time.

Ah, fuck.

Another wet dream (and a good one).

I dug my hand in my underwear, not even bothering to sit up, stretch or yawn. I gripped my stiff, erect dick harshly and began to stroke it (how many times have I done it already?). I moaned aloud and again, I breathed Marco's name a fuck load of times, without gulping before. My throat dried and I had a massive drought, but it didn't stop me from crying his name, -"Marcooo..."

The dream was lucid in my mind, clear and pure and it contributed to my handjob on every tier. I had my head in my pillow, sideways so I could moan loudly, but now, I buried my nose in it and inhaled Marco's scent from yesterday. It was so... aphrodisiac, making me jerk faster, -"Marpsh..."- I moaned his name again, but it was muffled.

Oh, it's so close, so fucking close, Marco, please...! Ahh, there it is, that bliss I craved so much. I exhaled and moaned in pleasure, allowing the orgasm to befog my mind while I squeezed my slimy dick for a few more minutes, oh boy.

How does that blonde, artist says it? "Opps, I did it again"?

I sat up and rubbed my forehead, oh man, this is kind of embarrassing, isn't it? I can mildly understand Marco now, but my standards were higher than his. This is like, what, the tenth time I've masturbated in his name? I've lost count. The wet dream was actually my second one, but this one was..., God, much more erotic. I was penetrating him. Blowjobs seems petty compared to that.

I sighed and stood up, trudged to my bathroom and peed my bladder void. I stared at the tiles before me like an idiot, my back hunched and my cock jiggling beneath me.

That looked painful, didn't it? Penetrating Marco looked painful. Shit, I don't want to hurt him! But like the other one, this dream was carved on my brain for as long as I live, reminding me of how much I actually wish for sex with Marco and how risqué I really am.

I hung my head, resting in on my palms, and leaning my elbows on my knees.

I sighed. I have to talk to Marco about this. I hate leaving this type of thing in the air between us. It's the old 'Marco, I'm getting horny and I can't control our sexual attraction anymore' all over again. I'm such a-

No, wait. I'm punishing and crossing myself as a pervert, but these type of things are normal on a relationship, right? The wet-dreams, the handjobs, the boners, the name screaming -I mean, Marco and I have gotten really intimate these last few months and wishing to be more intimate is normal, it's okay, it means I want to be more serious with him and I do want to. Like, it's not my fault I'm utterly in love with the guy, for getting boners and impulsive desires; that's just how is it, right?

Right.

It actually makes sense and it made me feel not so much of jerk. I'm cool.

Besides, he's also getting these types of reactions and that means he also has the same desires as I have and it's okay, it's mutual. I just have to tell him so, he's just embarrassed, like I was a few months ago and he shouldn't be.

I sauntered out of the bathroom after washing my teeth and combing my hair, feeling a bit more relax and at ease with myself. I was clothing up for work when my phone vibrated on my nightstand. I answered the call, rolling my stupid shirt's sleeves, -"Yeah?"- I didn't even read who it was. It might be Zackly or some Fam. Department douchebag and here I am, speaking all mediocre. Fuck it.

-"Hello, Jean, I hope I didn't wake you up."- It was Celine, who quickly made me think about my one love.

-"Hey, it's fine, I'm just getting ready for work. How're you doing?"- I asked and paced around my room, searching for my wallet and car keys.

-"I'm alright, thanks for asking,"- She paused for a few seconds and I knew she wanted to tell me something, but was making sure someone else didn't hear her, -"And you? I forgot to mention that Marco can be a little too... tedious to deal with when he's sick. He gets really querulous and sluggish, specially when nauseous."

I chuckled fondly at the memory, -"Yeah, he really does, but nothing I couldn't handle."

-"I knew you'd take care of him alright."

-"And how is he?"- I asked, slanting my cellphone on my shoulder while I sprayed a bit of cologne on my neck (yeah, it's the only one I have), but come on, tell me it's not cool walking around smelling clean while cleaning.

-"He's a lot better, thanks to you,"- She chuckled and I heard footsteps over there, -"Doesn't stop eating and fooling around, let me tell you."

I chortled, imagining him making a mess in the fridge, -"Figured, he didn't eat or did anything much yesterday,"- Then, a quip popped in my mind and I blurted it before I could stop myself, -"Tell him to take it easy if he doesn't want another suppository up his ass."- Opps.

Silence from the other side. She didn't know the medicines I've gave him.

I covered my mouth, but spoke nonetheless, -"Y-yeah, had to give him one since he barfed any other liquid."

-"Oh."- It's all she mustered.

-"I-I should've told you."

-"No, no, it's alright, Jean!"- She chirped after a few seconds of silence, -"You did what had to be done and followed your instincts. He wouldn't be jumping around today if you hadn't done it."

I sighed in relief, -"Yeah? I mean, yeah! Of course!"

She chortled, -"Thanks again, Jean. I'll leave you to get ready. Take care, yeah?"

I nodded and tucked my car keys in my pocket as I trotted downstairs, -"Yeah, you too -and Marco!"

We hung up and I rushed towards my car, double-taking at the clock. Shit, I'm fashionably late now.

I arrived at the gym, a bit agitated, I admit, and quickly 'checked in' with Jeanna. I was practically talking to a wall, but hey, I was following protocols and that's what matters.

I began to work immediately, never reclining and boy, this place was dingy as hell, specially the bathrooms. Always the bathrooms.

Harry and Thalia were more loosen with me -Harry was still acting odd around me, but I discern that's just how he is- and we started working as a team. Thalia's disposition towards me was getting better and she was actually respecting me. During the last few weekends, I may have had run-ins with a few miscreants, giving me that bullshit that a janitor's work is unworthy and unnecessary, and I, like a big reckless ass, stood up for my work. Thalia found it admirable and stood beside me. I may have earn her respect, but I also earned a warning from my superiors and I seriously think the next one's my final.

-"I seriously don't know if you're brave or stupid."- Thalia commented as the three of us cleaned the women's bathroom. Harry and I were scrubbing the floor while Thalia unclogged the toilets.

I snorted, -"Maybe both?"

She laughed, -"More inclined to stupid. Ulysses' about to fire you."

-"I think th-that was... b-brav..."- Harry murmured, but I really couldn't hear him.

-"Dude, can you speak a bit more louder?"- I asked, struggling with a smear on a white tile.

-"You really think so?"- Thalia seemed to hear him just fine.

-"Yeah..."- I felt his eyes on me and his voice sounded dreamy, wistful, but again, I was too focused on this fucking smear to mull about it.

-"Jean Kirshtein, please proceed to my office."- My boss' voice resonated through the speaker.

I perked my head up, "Oh uh, what did I do now?"

Thalia snickered, -"You better go see."

I stood up and sauntered towards where my memory of his office's location took me. Last time I came, I kinda got lost and ventured into sheds where defunct stuff were retrained, and other abandoned rooms and offices, probably my boss' old ones. It was a place far from the "gym" side, totally uncharted for me.

I arrived and cleared my throat before knocking lightly against his door, -"Can I come in?"- I asked, leaning close to it.

-"Pass."- He said flatly.

Okay, somebody's not in a good mood. My nerves reeled as I wondered if I'll be fired or if we'll have that talk about Keith. I stepped in and nodded at him, -"Uh... good afternoon, sir."

He gestured towards a seat before his desk, -"Sit."

I gulped at his taciturn words, -"O-of course."- While I did, he eyed me (my clothes, to be exact), and he made a disgusted face. Well, what did he expect? My work isn't exactly subtle. I had smears and blots of grubs all over the blue, huge blouse and apron he distributed me with.

When I sat, unbend, he wasted no time, -"Jean, what you're doing is admirable, but morals barely matter in my work. You're pestering my clients and my job is to give them a pleasant service,"- I had a lump in the pits of my stomach. I gaped my mouth to speak, but he didn't let me, -"This is my final warning: keep your mouth shut or I'll fire you. Unpleasant and a sad waste of a good man, but necessary."

I hung my head and gripped my knees. Well, shit. I knew a lot of clients have come to complain about me, but damn. Thalia was right, I'm an inch close to get fired if I kept this up.

Should I take this shit? I mean, I don't have to. I have rights and what he just said was a threat. He has no right to speak to me like that and I don't have to take his shit or anyone else's.

But then again, I choose to work because I needed to, I need the money. I'm practically independent -well, partly. Dad sends me money once a week and he pays my car, my house and my medical plan, but sooner or later, he'll stop and I have to be ready for it. What if he gets sick too? I can't count on him forever. Dad surely pays for his stuff in Sina too.

All those reasons are what made me breathe deeply and nod reluctantly, -"I understand, sir."

-"Good,"- He searched for something beneath his desk and offered it to me, -"Here. I've noted how those... don't exactly fit."

I unfolded the collected clothes: it was the same blouse I had but smaller, and of course, a new gray apron to substitute the shabby one I had on, -"Uh... thanks."- After what he just told me, this "gift" felt out of place, like he was trying to patronize me. They'll just rot anyways.

I stood up and he called me again, -"Jean, I want you to know that I don't have anything against you, but I can't have you pulling stunts like that. It's business."

I just nodded and stepped out.

At lunch break, Harry and Thalia inquired me and I told them everything. Thalia thought the same thing I did: my boss patronized me. I shouldn't have accepted the treat, but then again, I do need the new clothes. The old ones were huge and kind of uncomfortable.

I tried for the whole thing not to affect my work, but I was failing. It encroached my mind and like always, I began to think in excess.

I felt like shit, fooled and coaxed by another man I once though respectable. I felt like I didn't mattered in this place, like I was just some gnat to flap at, like my work and effort was ignored and ingrate. Of course I don't do it to be famous, but come on, a thanks once in a while for picking up every single rubbish someone shits is good and appreciated.

Nobody will thank you, Jean, you know that. You work because you need to, you don't do it for anyone's 'thanks', spoke my rational voice.

Fuck off, I spat, cringing at my own mental voice.

On the other hand, I kind of understand my boss. He's just doing his work. I might do the same if I were in his place. I mean, if I have an employee that's shooing my clients and fucking my profits up, I might fire him. He was right when he said morals barely matters in his work -or anywhere these days. We gotta do what we gotta do, no matter the consequences.

I sighed at the memory I had of my talk with Marco about that kind of stuff. I told him I believed little in morals and ideals within places of power (like politics, militia, police, police force, etc.), and I remember how he shook his head in disapproval. Then here I am on a tantrum because some asshole tells me my work is needless and stupid or whatever, and because of my morally good actions, I'm shunned on. It shouldn't matter, right? I should just ignore them and keep doing my work.

Both Harry and Thalia noted my mood -specially Harry, got a feeling he's been looking at me for a while now. They attempted to cheer me up, or well, Harry did. Again, he reminded me a lot of Marco and that brought a smile to my lips, -"D-don't let them bother and discourage you from your work. Y-you're s-stronger than th-them..."- That sounds like something my boyfriend would say.

I chortled and began to tousle his hair, -"Thanks man."

He was right though. I'm not about to give up now on my work by some douchebag.

Harry gaped his mouth to say something else, his neck very red, until Thalia rushed in the launch room, -"Hey, Jean, someone's asking for you."- She pointed behind her with her thumb.

-"Really?"- I swallowed a chunk of meat (leftover from yesterday), cleaned my hands and mouth, and stood up. I glanced at the clock on the wall; 5:00, almost time to go. I dumped the residue (a few bones and beans), retrained the closed bowl in my rucksack and headed out.

Thalia led me to none other than Marco. Somehow, I expected to be him, but he still surprised me whenever he showed up here and always brought me something. Last weekends, he only passed by once, and this time, he broke the ice and brought me a few snacks, chips and chocolate bars. He smiled tenderly when he saw me, -"Though you'd like something sweet after lunch."

I was getting really attached to his appearances here with something for me, -"Whaddaya got?"- I peeked in the plastic bag.

-"A few Snickers and Doritos."

Aw sweet, I always crave for a Snicker. I dug it out and quickly munched on it.

-"Well, look at you, munching candy like a kid."- Thalia spoke with a snort. I suddenly forgot she was still here.

-"Oh, Marc, this imsh Thalia."- I introduced them, with my mouth full, and they shook hands, a bit awkwardly.

Marco chuckled, -"Can you swallow before you speak?"

Thalia slammed her hand against my back, making me cough, -"Jean doesn't really follow the rules, does he?"

Marco laughed, a bit pent-up. He knows she's right thought.

While I ate my snacks and shared with them, we chatted about random stuff and loitered around. Thalia never pried about my relation with Marco. I never told her or Harry about my sexual preferences and she apparently didn't cared.

Around 5:30, we wrapped up, ready to go. Marco waited for me after telling me (kinda indirectly) that he'd go with me. I had no problem at all, believe me, but it was kinda odd, specially with the way he awkwardly avoided my eyes. I knew something was up, he wanted to discuss something with me. I knew what.

I held that at the back of my mind for now while I 'checked out' with Bob, my boss' late receptionist. He was slurry too and scaredy, always getting startled by every small sound.

I made my way towards the front door, where Marco waited for me, when Harry teetered behind me meekly, barely mumbling my name, -"Wa-wait, J-Jean..."

-"Harry?"- I looked over my shoulder and spotted him fidgeting with his fingers again. I faced him, -"Everything alright?"- There he goes acting weird again.

He nodded briskly, -"Y-yeah... I j-just w-wanted to tell you s-something."- He stuttered, struggling to keep his eyes on mines.

-"What is it?"- Now I was getting anxious and edgy. I hadn't noted Marco sneaking behind me.

-"C-can we go... um, s-somewhere el-else?"- He started turning away, gesturing me to follow him.

I didn't budge, -"What's going on, Harry?"- Okay, he was acting extra odd now.

-"Ju-just follow m-me..."

I have trust issues, but Harry wasn't any stranger, so I stepped forward. Marco held me back though, a grip on my arm, -"Huh?"

-"Jean, what's the matter?"- He asked, all innocently, but he had that knowing look I've come to recognize easily.

-"Um, I'll be going soon. Gimme me a few minutes to...,"- I pondered on whether or not tell Marco that a guy (someone totally foreign to him) wanted to talk to me, alone. It's bizarre, right? But I don't want Marco to get any wrong ideas. I gaped my mouth to explain him when Harry called me and Marco noticed him. I scratched my neck and gestured at both of them, -"Oh, uh... Marco, this is Harry, my work pal."

Marco gave him one of his tender smiles, but something was off. It felt false, forced, like he really didn't want to smile to him. An eerie air brewed.

-"H-hello..."- Stammered Harry, but he becked me to follow him again with his eyes.

Marco, somehow, got the message that wasn't meant for him and tugged my sleeve, -"I'll be outside, waiting for you, but don't take too long."

Before I could reply, he leaned closer to me and sowed a fervent kiss on my lips, slithering his tongue across them and into my mouth. He whirred his lips against mines in a slow, but passionate and grandiose rhythm while gliding his hand down my arm and broiling with my fingers. It was a hot, hot kiss.

I had my eyes wide, my back rigid like a snowman. This was uncanny and unusual of Marco; we did kissed in public, but it's often on my cheeks and if it's on the lips, it's always a petty one, a mere peck, completely the opposite of this one. It's not that Marco's ashamed of kissing me like this in public, he just respects and was aware that other people disliked PDA's, specially one of homosexuals. I, on the other hand, gave no fucks whatsoever and always wished for him to kiss me like this in public.

I'm not complaining, not by a long shot, but this was very rare. Something else is going on, something I'm obviously missing.

Marco whispered, 'I love you' before he sauntered away, before I could question him. With a nervous laugh, I turned around to face Harry, offer him an explanation, but he was gone and on his very spot sloshed a few water drips. I had no idea of the source.