Post by Marco Bodt on Sept 4, 2017 18:42:17 GMT
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[attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses
[attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE
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NOTES: dammit jean is too cute also i tried im sorry its kind of a shitpost
NOTES: dammit jean is too cute also i tried im sorry its kind of a shitpost
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Marco slips sugar into the cup, froths the milk. He watches Jean's face, unable to quite take his eyes off completely, the soft smile on his features unwavering. But when Jean pushes the mug before him, he takes it with a curiously quirked brow, pours piping hot coffee into it.
[break][break]
Try something? Try what?
[break][break]
Hands by his waist, strong arms wrap around his middle and it's sudden enough that Marco jerks the tiniest fraction of an inch in surprise. But he relaxes and melds into the embrace, relishing in Jean's warmth and closeness. With Jean here, Marco stops, stills, takes the time to listen and appreciate Jean's breathing and hot breath on his face and neck.
[break][break]
A rush of heat flushes from his neck to his ears when Jean murmurs against his ear. But he smiles and reaches up an arm to ruffle Jean's hair affectionately. Jean kisses his neck, sends another wave of heat through him, and he still somehow keeps himself in check. With great struggle, of course. He just wants to throw himself into Jean's arms, but really. Breakfast first.
For the both of them.
[break][break]
His gaze follows Jean's, rests on the textbooks on the table. "Ah, no..." he starts, handing Jean his coffee. He resists the urge to plant a kiss on Jean's cheek (really though, why...) and moves to grab ingredients for a breakfast omelette. "I need enough tuition money for that...so I decided I'd work instead. That's just extra reading in preparation for university...perhaps..." It was all a very vague plan, with ideas of possibly becoming a psychologist or therapist or something of the sort, but with no clear deadlines and seemingly no set goals.
[break][break]
Marco cracks an egg into a bowl, gets raw egg white on his fingers. Teasingly, he moves to wipe it on Jean's face. "And yourself? You never did much like studying, did you?"
[break][break]
He stops, still smiling, though, and turns back to cooking. "Didn't you say you were going to make breakfast?" he says with a laugh. "C'mon, help me out."
Marco slips sugar into the cup, froths the milk. He watches Jean's face, unable to quite take his eyes off completely, the soft smile on his features unwavering. But when Jean pushes the mug before him, he takes it with a curiously quirked brow, pours piping hot coffee into it.
[break][break]
Try something? Try what?
[break][break]
Hands by his waist, strong arms wrap around his middle and it's sudden enough that Marco jerks the tiniest fraction of an inch in surprise. But he relaxes and melds into the embrace, relishing in Jean's warmth and closeness. With Jean here, Marco stops, stills, takes the time to listen and appreciate Jean's breathing and hot breath on his face and neck.
[break][break]
A rush of heat flushes from his neck to his ears when Jean murmurs against his ear. But he smiles and reaches up an arm to ruffle Jean's hair affectionately. Jean kisses his neck, sends another wave of heat through him, and he still somehow keeps himself in check. With great struggle, of course. He just wants to throw himself into Jean's arms, but really. Breakfast first.
For the both of them.
[break][break]
His gaze follows Jean's, rests on the textbooks on the table. "Ah, no..." he starts, handing Jean his coffee. He resists the urge to plant a kiss on Jean's cheek (really though, why...) and moves to grab ingredients for a breakfast omelette. "I need enough tuition money for that...so I decided I'd work instead. That's just extra reading in preparation for university...perhaps..." It was all a very vague plan, with ideas of possibly becoming a psychologist or therapist or something of the sort, but with no clear deadlines and seemingly no set goals.
[break][break]
Marco cracks an egg into a bowl, gets raw egg white on his fingers. Teasingly, he moves to wipe it on Jean's face. "And yourself? You never did much like studying, did you?"
[break][break]
He stops, still smiling, though, and turns back to cooking. "Didn't you say you were going to make breakfast?" he says with a laugh. "C'mon, help me out."
[attr="class","jarbtgcred"]JARONART
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