[title here] {Jean & Marco}
'He's probably just running a little late. There's probably a rational reason for this, so stop fretting over it.'
A nervous tap of his foot accompanied his frequent glances to the clock hanging above. Black hands pointed to the five painted on the circular object. While Marco was an understanding person, there was absolutely no way a person could be fine after arriving twenty-five minutes late to a planned engagement. Well, maybe that was just Marco and his punctual tendencies at work. Taking a look at the clock one more, he noted the lack of time that had passed since his last check. Marco sighed; he hoped nothing had happened to him while he was on his way.
A few minutes later, the creak of the door alerted Marco to a presence entering the room. Although there wasn’t a broad spectrum of people that would enter, Marco’s instincts pointed to one individual. Turning around in his seat, eyes met the entering figure of Jean, whose demeanor seemed to be a bit off compared to his normal self. Other than the unusual display of mood, chocolate hues shifted toward the sight of fresh blood trickling down the sides of his face. Blood? An uneasy look began to form as he took a few steps in the opposite direction to get a better look at the other inflictions. Marco brought a hand up to cover his mouth for a second—the sight he saw was absolutely horrific.
"What do you mean ‘I just got into a fight?’" A slight frown soon found its way upon freckled features. Stepping over toward his desk, he leaned a bit over the desk for a few sheets of tissue paper situated within cardboard confines. Returning to Jean, he brought the material into contact with the cuts, lightly dabbing the outer edges. This certainly would not thoroughly disinfect the wounds he received, but it would at least remove the splashes of sticky red liquid upon his flesh. "Not only are you bleeding, but now you’re telling me it wasn’t a big deal? That’s not like you."
Carefully ripping the packaging off with his teeth, Marco stuck the pink bandage on the upper part of Jean’s cheek. He smiled lightly at his work; hopefully Jean wouldn’t be too mad at him for putting a white cat bandage on his face. Before returning eye contact, he bent down and placed a quick peck on the wounded area. That should help with the healing process, right? Going back to the conversation, he motioned for Jean to take a comfortable spot on his bed. He must be fairly worn out from the day, so Marco thought that was the least he could do.
"Now tell me," he began, taking a seat at his desk chair. "How did you get into the fight? And please don’t’ hide anything; you aren’t fooling anyone here.”
Should’ve known.
It should have been obvious before stepping a booted foot inside that dorm room there would have been no way in hell to just brush this all off. Though just going straight to his dorm might have seemed like a possibility, in all reality it never was—Marco would’ve been pissed for more than two reasons. One, he ditched their agreed meeting; two, he hid the fact that he got into a fight and even more, got injured. Jean’d never witnessed an angry Marco, but considering the quiet nature of his boyfriend—he really didn’t want to get acquainted with that side of the freckled teen.
So he’d just… Gone to Marco’s dorm, knowing that he would probably hear an earful about how he should have tried harder to control his temper and not get into that fight. Jean didn’t know how to explain just how difficult that was—ignoring his naturally confrontational and short-tempered personality that he’d never managed to keep under wraps very well. But shouldn’t Marco know that much already? By all means, if there was one thing practically everyone knew about him it was that he had a temper and the terrible ability to control said temper. He might not’ve been quite as bad as Eren, but he wasn’t all too different in terms of that lack of fuse until it was gone and he just… exploded.
It wasn’t a good trait by any means, but he couldn’t really do much about it.
Jean sighed over his thoughts, making little objection to this sudden nurse Marco thing and wincing only slightly as his wounds were cleaned and tended to. Normally, he would complain and insist that he was really just fine, but not even he could deny the worried look on his boyfriend’s face the second he walked in so he just went with it. He just let Marco do whatever he wanted since he was already a pain in the ass to begin with.
“Doesn’t look that bad does it?” Jean never stopped to check and see, so he really didn’t know just how severe the damage to his face was—let alone what kinds of bruises he probably had under his clothes since he definitely got hit there too. It was stupid, but he couldn’t fight the damn hint of a blush that burned in his cheeks from that little bit of contact of Marco’s lips on the damaged area of his face. It throbbed a bit, but it wasn’t serious and definitely nothing he couldn’t handle. His head though, that was a bitch right now. Jean was certain he would be developing a pretty black eye before too long.
“How do I always get into fights? You act like this kinda thing never happens Marco, but it kind of does. Does Eren Jaeger ring any bells?”
