jeanmarco 34 please :)
34. meeting at a masquerade ball au
Where the fuck did Jean’s friends go? He went to go get a drink but somehow in the two seconds he was gone they all disappeared. They were the ones who had dragged him to this crappy school dance in the first place, and now they left him all alone. First they forced him to come, then Jaeger tried to get him to wear a fucking horse mask, and now this. They were such good friends. At least he looked pretty hot. He’d managed to shove Eren off long enough to get just a normal black mask, and he’d always looked good in a dress shirt and slacks.
Resigning himself to an evening of trying to beat his score on Flappy Bird and drinking unfortunately un-spiked punch, Jean headed over to the tables surrounding the dance floor and plopped himself at a chair near one that looked pretty empty. It was annoying to play with his mask on but apparently there was a rule that you’d get kicked out if you took your mask off too long, and Jaeger and the others were his ride home so he didn’t want to be waiting for them out in the cold. He’d only been playing about ten minutes before he got distracted by someone sitting down a few seats away.
He had to try not to stare. This guy was fucking hot. His mask covered most of his face, not only his eyes but his forehead and cheeks covered in gold swirls over white plastic. His black hair was gelled back like people did in the fifties or forties or whenever that was, and he was wearing a black suit that fit him perfectly. He was even wearing white gloves, like a butler. That was kind of weird, but Jean just took it as that the guy was really into the whole masquerade theme, and it worked for him.
The guy caught Jean staring and they both quickly looked away from each other. Jean had obviously lost his last game of Flappy Bird but he started a new one. He kept losing with just a couple points after that, too distracted by wanting to look back up at the guy.
Eventually the guy stood up, and Jean’s eyes were drawn to him by the movement. He thought the guy was going to leave, but instead he just walked closer to Jean, extending one of his gloved hands. Jean looked up in confusion and saw the guy mouth the words "Do you want to dance?" He could just barely hear him over the sound of the loud bass music and people screaming and dancing, so he was glad it was easy to figure out based on context.
"I’m not really good at dancing," he responded, raising his voice so that the guy would hopefully hear. As hot as the guy was, Jean didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of everyone with his crappy dancing skills.
"I don’t care," Jean read on the guy’s lips, hearing him slightly better this time but still not well. He was still holding out his hand, and Jean didn’t seem to have another choice. He grabbed the hand and stood, pocketing his phone and following the guy to the dance floor.
The guy honestly didn’t seem to care about Jean’s crappy dancing. He put up with it, laughing at him but not mean-spiritedly when Jean did something particularly bad. They danced to every song that came up: the jump-up-and-down-pumping-your-fist songs, the Cotton-Eyed Joes and Electric Slides, the the-theater-kids-requested-songs-from-Grease songs, even the grind-up-against-each-other-like-you’re-practically-fucking songs. Those were definitely interesting, but Jean couldn’t say he didn’t like it.
A slow song eventually came on, and they still kept dancing. The guy guided Jean’s arms over his shoulders and put his own around Jean’s waist and they just swayed. Jean’s head ended up resting on the guy’s chest and it was just… nice.
At the end of the song they were kissing and it was even better. It was wonderful, in fact, except for how their masks kept bumping together awkwardly. Jean didn’t even fully realize what he was doing when he reached up and took off the guy’s mask first, then his own. He kept kissing the guy for a minute after that, but finally pulled away for a break and opened his eyes.
Jean’s freckled lab partner from chemistry was standing in front of him, blushing and hesitantly smiling. Jean was still confused, but he knew that it was too loud and public here for them to talk. He grabbed Marco’s hand and pulled him off the dance floor and out into the hallway between the gym and the bathrooms so that they could talk. When he finally stopped and looked back at Marco, the boy was looking a lot more worried.
"I…" Jean began, not really sure what he wanted to say. "How-? You… don’t look surprised that it’s me, so…"
Marco let out a quiet laugh. “Your hair kinda gives you away,” he explained.
"Oh, so…" Jean’s eyes narrowed, trying to piece everything together. "You knew it was me?"
Marco’s hesitant smile was back as he nodded shyly. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s why… That’s the only reason I asked you to dance, really.” The smiled dropped and he looked down at his feet. “Sorry if that’s weird or if you think I was lying to you, or anything like that; that’s not what I meant. I just didn’t know how else to tell you that-” He stopped abruptly.
Jean was the one smiling this time as he reached out to grab Marco’s hand with the one not holding their masks. “Tell me what?”
"That I like you." The words fell from Marco’s lips like an exhale, like something he’d been waiting forever to say but was still unsure if it was the right time.
Jean smiled even bigger. “Of course I’m not angry, you idiot,” he said, taking his hand back from Marco just to punch him playfully in the side. “I’m only angry that you didn’t say something sooner.”
Marco’s eyes shot up to meet Jean’s, confused. “Wait, so you…?”
"Yup," Jean answered, beginning to laugh.
"Oh my god," Marco responded, laughing too.
"I know. Now c’mere." Jean pulled Marco down into another kiss.
They were kicked out of the dance not too much later for not wearing their masks and for “inappropriate public displays of affection.” Marco’s face was beet red as Jean laughed and led them outside, where they proceeded to make out in Marco’s car until the dance was over.