Christmas drabble that may or may not get more added to it later
Ugh. Christmas. He didn’t even have to say it aloud for Marco to chuckle as they emerged from the department store into the open section of the mall. Every store was decorated in shimmering lights and tinsel; festive songs were broadcast over the speakers above the bustling crowds. The taller boy tried to keep a straight face as Jean scowled noticeably when ‘Walking in a Winter Wonderland’ began to play. Marco elbowed him playfully,
“You’re like the grinch.”
“It’s the same damn song sung five different ways over and over again. Who wouldn’t get annoyed?”
“I would like to remind you that I offered you several online options a few weeks ago,” Marco mused. “You’re the one that said you’d figure it out on your own.”
“Well why did I have to pull fucking Jaeger’s name from the hat! Why couldn’t it have been someone easy? Armin - give him a book. Christa - give her some typical girly shit. Sasha - give her food.” Jean stared at the name on his slip of paper, as if by his sheer will the letters would rearrange and become someone else’s.
“We all agreed on the gift exchange since there are so many of us,” Marco gently reminded him as he stopped to eye gloves at one of the kiosks they almost passed.
“Well if you seem so confident in your gift-giving, who did you get?” Jean demanded, watching how intently Marco was examining a pair of red leather gloves.
“Not telling. Those are the rules,” He answered firmly.
“Is it me?”
Marco merely chuckled.
“Marco.”
“Hm?”
Jean stepped behind Marco, so close his breath tickled the back of Marco’s ear. The freckled boy felt his fingers go numb. His heart pounded as he kept looking forward, not acknowledging their close proximity.
“Damnit, your finger is covering the name!” Jean reached for the slip of paper in Marco’s hands. With a sigh, Marco shoved it back in his pocket as his ability to breathe returned. His free hand was used to signal the kiosk attendant.
“I’d like to buy these, please.” He handed the gloves to the young lady working the kiosk while Jean was ranting behind him. It was easy enough to block him out. An afterthought, Marco asked the kiosk employee, “Also, do you have a box for them?” She nodded and after a moment they had exchanged money for the gift as Jean continued to try and grab the name from Marco’s pocket. Marco sighed, walking away from him. “You should be more focused on Eren’s gift than figuring out whose name I drew.”
“It’s my name, isn’t it?”
“It’s not yours.” For some reason, Jean seemed more annoyed now. Marco gestured to a game store, trying to change the topic. “What about a new headset?”
“Can’t I just give him a gift card and be done with it?”
“No gift cards. Were you at the same party I was at when we discussed this?” Marco laughed lightly as he added, “You also didn’t have to participate. Remember?”
“I know that, but I didn’t get the name I wanted!”
“And who’s name was that?” Marco asked innocently. Jean stammered something unintelligible and instead of giving a clear answer stormed into the game store. The obvious answer was Mikasa’s, and Marco felt a small pang of guilt. He could have been a good friend and swapped names with Jean in secret. But then again, since Jean had very angrily declared, “fuck this name I want another!” it was pretty apparent whose name he had pulled. Marco realized he was frowning and shook it off. He stepped into the store after Jean.
“Oh hey, I didn’t know this was out yet.” Jean flashed a game to Marco. The taller boy glanced it over and thought for a moment.
“I don’t think I saw this on Eren’s shelf.”
“Ha. Eat that Jaeger. I’ll show you a good gift.” He marched to the line. The line which was, of course, ridiculously long since there were only four days left until the holiday. “Why are there so many people here?”
“Because, like you, a lot of people wait until the last minute.”
“You just bought your present too!” Jean pointed at the bag in Marco’s hand.
“I knew what I wanted to buy, but I was having trouble finding the right shade of red.” Jean didn’t seem happy with that answer.
“You’re spending an awful lot of time being meticulous!” For a fleeting second, Marco almost thought it sounded laced with a hint of jealousy.
“Jean, if there’s someone that you want to buy a present for you can give one to them even if you didn’t pick their name.”
“It’s kind of obvious then, isn’t it?” He scoffed.
“It’s our last year at school. Some of us have been friends since freshman year. Do you really think it would be that out of the ordinary?” Marco shrugged. His chipper tone had faltered slightly. Mainly because hiding in the trunk of Marco’s car was Jean’s present that he intended to give him at some point.
Though subtle, he noticed the change in Marco’s voice. Jean covered with, “You’ve got a point.” He cleared his throat. “Oh, hey, we’re next. Already.”
“Waiting isn’t always bad.” Marco said wistfully, amusement in his eyes.
“Easy for you to say. You have the patience of a saint.”
“I’ve developed it after four years.” Jean shot him a glare before they stepped up to the counter.
Note: Female Marco, bc in my head she would be precious.
He’s too afraid to say it.
It doesn’t happen after the first kiss, where he impatiently grabs her face and crushes their lips together. He’s certain it was a little more rough than she expected. But when they break for air the way she giggles lifts his heart in a way he never realized she could.
He thinks it, but the words don’t leave his lips.
It doesn’t happen a few months later when she shyly says it. The two are tangled in the grass, looking up at the stars. He realizes she tried to say it softly so that he might miss it. But he heard it, gentle and loving just as she is. The way he kisses her that night is full of a passion he didn’t realize he harbors.
He hopes his kiss conveys it instead.
There are many times that he could say it: when her hand cards through his hair, when she whispers in his ear then giggles, when she lies on his chest and draws circles with her finger. She never asks for it, but he’s sure she’s waiting for it. He’s afraid her patience with him will thin, but he never manages to get his words quite right.
It isn’t as if she can’t tell. The way he possessively puts an arm around her if someone is talking to her. The times he blushes and stutters because he’s not good at romance but it’s charming when he tries. The rare moments when his guard is down and she can see it in his eyes as he leans in to kiss her.
It would be nice if he said it. But doesn't want to push him. Instead, she wants to show him how much she cares.
A few nights before graduation, she asks him to meet her on the outskirts of the training camp. It’s risky. Especially if they get caught. But Jean still obliges because she never asks for anything, really.
Under one of the trees is where they experiment and she lets him explore her body. His mind goes white when he slides between her legs and takes everything she offers. It’s sloppy and awkward but it feels like heaven the way she dances under him with every move he makes. When he is exhausted and can’t even hold himself up to kiss her any more, he collapses in a heap by her side. Embarrassed, she buries her face in his chest. He grins, trailing a hand down her back to push her closer. The grin fades slightly as he breaks the silence,
“I owe you an apology.”
“Hm?” She looks up at him as he stares off into the distance. It’s easier if he doesn’t return her gaze just yet.
“There’s something I keep meaning to say.” He clears his throat, trying to think of the words he wants to use. He owes her something a little more eloquent than she’s used to, “I think it’s out of fear. I have this twisted theory it’s like a jinx. That once I say it to you, something bad will happen.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. If I admit how happy I am, I’m afraid this world will take it away from me.” He sighs, finally looking down at her. She offers him a small smile, then leans up for a chaste kiss. Sincerely, she replies,
“You don’t have to say it.”
“I know.” He rests his lips against the shell of her ear and whispers it softly. The shiver he can feel that runs down her body makes him aware of how much the words ring true. He begins to kiss her once more, but this time she takes charge and throws him on his back.
He wants to remember the look on her face while she’s moaning above him like that forever. He wants to get used to it, to memorize it. He begins to think how greedy for her he’s going to become. The idea is enthralling. He can see the future with her in it, at his side by day and in his bed at night. This world is hell, but she is a beautiful light that breaks through the darkness.
But self-fulfilling prophecies come when least expected.
When he finds her inside the walls of Trost, her light has already been snuffed out. He swears by the pyre to avenge her, to move forward and destroy like he has been destroyed.
He regrets saying I love you only once. He mourns that he’ll never be able to say it again.
Slightly dopey future drabble in which Kagami plays professional basketball in the states.
Actually, that wasn't quite right. There was an old adage that fit better. What was it? Ah yes. Rather, the more things changed, the more they remained the same. Because time didn't stand still. The world moved, and they moved with it.
They certainly had moved. To the US, to Chicago, Kagami as a starting player. Kuroko as his agent. Always together. Despite Kuroko being a self-proclaimed shadow, Kagami always saw his hope as a ray of light.
The taller man tossed his jacket off and let it fall somewhere in the room. He loosened his tie and kicked his shoes into the corner. As Kuroko moved to walk past him, Kagami's arm snagged around his waist.
"Kagami-kun, we have interviews in the morning."
"That's in the morning." In a persuading move, he kissed along the side of Kuroko's neck. The shorter man let out a sharp breath,
"We're also seeing our friends after."
Even on his own ears his voice sounded weaker. Kagami grinned, stealing a kiss that left Kuroko breathless.
"That's more reason to have fun tonight. We'll have less time tomorrow." His hand slipped down past his partner's waist. Kuroko flashed a stern expression as he stated,
"You better wake up on time for your interview."
Another kiss ended the conversation. Technically, Kagami hadn't agreed to it. Truthfully, even if they had behaved, Kuroko was well aware they still wouldn't have been on time.
Regardless, it was a quiet reprieve to spend the night with his face buried in the tiger's chest. To be like this was something he had longed for, he had longed for such a long time; it was now a mostly common occurrence. Well, when traveling schedules weren't as crazy and during parts of the off-season.
Before he drifted off to sleep, a small smile tugged at his lips. He kissed Kagami's chest lightly, letting out a breath. It was warm in his arms and that was something he was confident would never change.
Marco’s cheeks were red from the cold. He could hardly feel them either; the bitter chill had left them numb. Rubbing his gloves together he tried to stir a bit of warmth as the snow still fell around him. Trekking through a wintry mix through the college campus tended to be a drag. Not to mention his dorm was up a hill, so naturally it was a chore to make it back. But class had just ended and he really wanted to crawl under his blankets. Possibly make himself a cup of hot cocoa. If he remembered correctly, he still had one packet lying around.
“Hey Marco!” A voice came from behind him. One that he knew all too well.
He turned and was met with a glob of snow pelting him in the face. The snow puffed into flakes on the air, fizzling away with the wind. Jean burst out laughing, pointing at him.
“Ha! You should have seen your face!” While Jean was still laughing, a snowball hit him in the face as retaliation. Marco might have been a nice guy, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t taste sweet revenge.
An all-out snowball fight ensued.
After the chaos died down, they settled on going back up to Marco’s dorm and stripped off their jackets to dry. Jean borrowed a pair of Marco’s sweats. Marco changed into a pair as well. They each claimed a blanket and wrapped themselves up. It was an accurate impression of a cocoon. Laughter filled the walls. Eventually, Marco climbed from the warmth of his bed to make them drinks and put on a movie. Time slipped by without their realizing it.
As Jean got up to put his jacket on, he glanced out the window. “Shit, it’s really piling up out there.”
“You could stay here tonight. Connie’s gone for the weekend, he left yesterday.” Marco shrugged.
“Sure, why not?” He climbed back onto his spot. Marco sputtered,
“H-Hey! Connie’s bed is free!”
“Yeah but this spot’s already warm.” He grinned, victorious at reclaiming his space.
“Fine, fine.” Marco laughed as he rolled onto his side. It almost sounded convincing. It had to have sounded convincing to Jean at least, since he was almost asleep already. He never had a hard time hitting the sack. Marco, unfortunately, would get no sleep that night.
It’s a little hard to calm your heart enough to sleep when you’re sharing a bed with your crush. Just for the record.
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