[attr="class","jarbtgtri"]

[attr="class","jarbtgicon"]

[attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses

[attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE

[attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]

NOTES: n/a

[attr="class","jarbtgtext"]


Marco beams with surprise. "Sun block? That's where I live!" He grins and flashes Lillie a companionly look before turning to watch where he's walking. He's clumsier than most — Jean says so. And darned if he hasn't walked into the door frame several times, just because he was tired.
[break][break]
Lillie lets Nebby free, and the creature zips around his head once ( he doesn't follow it for too long, for fear he'll lose track and trip over his laces ) and makes several happy sounds before landing back on the young girl's hat.
[break][break]
He's glad it's content. If he were that creature, he probably would be sulking still. Marco's stubborn that way, but at least he knows it.
[break][break]
Lillie holds out a peculiar ball towards him, offers it to him in thanks. Marco smiles, considers denying it (because it's one of her precious things, and anyway, he doesn't know how it works) but he can tell that she'd much rather if he took it, and so he wraps his hand around the object.
[break][break]
"Thank you," he says, holding it up and twisting it in his hand. "What is it?"

[attr="class","jarbtgtri"]

[attr="class","jarbtgicon"]

[attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses

[attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE

[attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]

NOTES: dammit jean is too cute also i tried im sorry its kind of a shitpost

[attr="class","jarbtgtext"]


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","jarbtgtri"]

[attr="class","jarbtgicon"]

[attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses

[attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE

[attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]

NOTES: n/a

[attr="class","jarbtgtext"]


Marco is unhinged. A tangled mess of anxiety and love and confusion and gladness. He hadn't actually thought through too much what he was doing -- his body moved on its own. His eyes are wide as he watches Jean, waits for a reaction.
[break][break]
The one or two second pause is enough for Marco's mind to swirl with endless apologies. Phrase upon phrase to try and make things right, if this isn't what Jean wants. Scenarios of him stepping back, turning away, silent, and simply letting it slide. And then -- the fake smiles, if need be.
[break][break]
But then Jean folds his arms around him, pulls him into another embrace, plants his lips on Marco's forehead, cheeks, nose, ear. And with each one, Marco's smile widens, bright like the sun. And then, Jean places his finger against his lips and grins that adorable quirked grin.
[break][break]
"Brush your teeth first. Then I'll kiss you."
[break][break]
Marco reddens, feeling the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. Crap -- he hadn't brushed his teeth indeed. Had his first kiss been coffee stained breath? Seriously? Way to mess up, Marco.
[break][break]
He nods at the request, raises a brow. "Okay. After breakfast," he says. Because it doesn't make sense to brush his teeth now and then again later. When Jean kisses his forehead, the smile breaks out wider than before, as if to seal the deal.
[break][break]
And damn if his heart doesn't flutter when Jean affirms that it was okay. That the kiss was okay. That Marco did fine.
[break][break]
As much as he wants to return the numerous kisses bestowed to him, he reins himself in and he pours coffee into his mug, along with sugar. Fetches the milk and pours in enough to satisfy and looks up at Jean. "Now to continue off from before -- cream and sugar?" he repeats, still smiling like a madman.

[attr="class","jarbtgtri"]

[attr="class","jarbtgicon"]

[attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses

[attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE

[attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]

NOTES: n/a

[attr="class","jarbtgtext"]


Marco moves to grab the plates and cutlery for them both so as to prepare for when breakfast has been made. And try as he might to get himself to be serious and focus on cooking and helping, he simply cannot get rid of the smile on his face. There's this strange feeling in his chest, simultaneously light and yet so absolutely full that it feels like his heart's going to burst.
[break][break]
Sugar bowl in hand, he spoons out a teaspoon into his own mug. His question remains unanswered, and he looks upwards ever so slightly, tilts his head in Jean's direction. "Jean?" he asks.
[break][break]
And then -- Jean's lips on his cheek. It's sweet and caring and it's over before he can even truly realize just what had occurred. He blinks once, tries to wrap his mind around it, and it takes him a few moments to finally tell himself what he knows just happened: Jean kissed him.
[break][break]
Marco pauses, lifts his hand to brush the kissed cheek. He's tomato red now, he knows it, he can feel his ears and cheeks burning and his pulse is quickening at an alarming rate. It feels like a dream come true, like a wish fulfilled, and though Marco would be happy enough just like this, with Jean here at his side, it's not enough.
[break][break]
There's some part of him, too, that is unreasonably angry. Angry because he's spent half a decade trying to forget, trying to move on, and yet in one day the person he's been meaning to leave behind appears before him like out of a dream and brings him so much damn joy within less than an hour. Marco doesn't even know whether he's angry at Jean or himself or the island.
[break][break]
Or maybe he's not even angry at all. Maybe he's just shocked that after all this time of waiting and waiting, Jean might actually like him. The kiss -- maybe he's reading too much into it. Maybe it's just some gesture of surface affection. But Marco doesn't want to think of it as such. Whatever tangle of emotions he's feeling is enough to render him speechless.
[break][break]
It takes a few moments, but he finally finds his words, finds what he's going to do next. Finally gathers what he wants to say, though when he says it, he can't quite look Jean in the eye. "You're so unfair," he whispers, eyes stinging once more with tears like an overflowing of the soul. He looks up, meets Jean in the eye, and sets himself on the path to complete a wish he'd made all those years ago.
[break][break]
Marco reaches out with both hands and places them on either side of Jean's face, pulling him closer, and presses his lips against his. It's clumsy and awkward and impulsive but he keeps them there for a good second before breaking apart. He can't look Jean in the eye as his face turns red as a tomato. Instead, he glances to the side, clasps his hands together. His bunched sweater ripples as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
[break][break]
Marco bites his lip. "Was...was that okay?" His voice is tentatively soft, gentle. Wary, even. Marco hopes he hasn't broken anything between them with this move, hasn't made something irreparable. He steals a glance at those beautiful hazel eyes, waiting with baited breath for an answer.

[attr="class","jarbtgtri"]

[attr="class","jarbtgicon"]

[attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses

[attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE

[attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]

NOTES: n/a

[attr="class","jarbtgtext"]


Marco blinks once. He...he hadn't really meant to get the job of fixing his computer done like. Right at this second. He'd meant for ... later? Maybe tomorrow? Or whenever Parker was available, really. So hearing that he'd be fine with fixing his computer as of that moment came as a surprise.
[break][break]
"Oh um..." Marco trails off, looks at himself (covered in sand and salt and sea) and then back at Parker. He shifts the surfboard in hand and offers an inquisitive grin. "Well, whenever is fine with you, really. I'd have to change and grab my computer from my apartment. Or -- you could drop by too, I guess," he adds, remembering that Parker had warned him against his roommate. He wonders just what kind of person she is to have such a fearsome reputation. "Or you could drop by the Coffee Shop tomorrow and I can give you your drink and my laptop then?"
[break][break]
That way, the both of them wouldn't have to worry so much about the 'now' but rather the 'future'. Plus, it'd allow Marco perhaps another surf or two before he decided to head home.