Victorian Foreplay (jeanmarco one shot)
The great ballroom of the Smith Estate was buzzing with idle chatter, mingled with lively string music played by an elegant quartet by one of the room’s grand, wooden doors leading to the mansion’s inner chambers. Ladies covered their pale faces with gloved hands to excuse their soft giggles, while men eyed them down with repressed curiosity from a respectful distance. Some married couples swayed smoothly to the mild violins, their eyes locked onto each other as though entranced. Jealousy for their public display of affection shot through me so violently it surprised me, and I unconsciously tightened the grip on my glass of wine. Just then, I caught sight of Mr. Erwin Smith greeting Marco by the ball room’s main entrance, and I knew any attempts to regain my composure would be futile.
‘He is doing this on purpose, just to annoy me.’ I thought to myself as my hungry gaze devoured the splendid image of Marco wearing a closely-fitting, black tuxedo paired with a deep crimson bowtie. As he turned to give his thick overcoat to one of the maids, my eyes almost instinctively travelled down to realize just how closely the pants fit him.
‘Damn that bastard’ I almost blurted out, managing to stop myself at the very last moment. Without taking my dissolute eyes off of Marco, I took a long swing of wine in a hopeless attempt to calm myself down. I examined his every detail, from the way the deep black of the tuxedo brought out his irresistible freckles against the pale skin, to the alluring manner in which his hazel eyes glinted in the rich, golden light. Every inch of me wanted nothing but to wrap my arms tight around him and kiss until we ran out of breath. However, such a scenario would have to wait, and patience was a virtue I truly lacked. In this world a same-sex relationship would never be accepted and so I had to play my cards extremely cautiously. But Marco and I were experts in this kinky game of teasing.
His conversation with Mr. Smith was dragging on, and I could tell Marco was getting impatient. He often shifted his weight from one leg to the other, and his gaze travelled impassively along the length of the room. Suddenly though his gaze shot straight back to Mr. Smith and I unmistakably saw him mouth my name to the general, his brilliant brown eyes alight with fresh interest. The pride and satisfaction I felt at the fact that the mere mention of my name could arouse such avid interest in him was indescribable. Once again it took every ounce of my self-control not to leap onto him right then and there. As I was standing in a rather secluded area of the room, obscured from Marco’s vision by a grand piano, he had not yet had the chance to locate me. This had to be remedied, and so I casually made my way over to the small group of people standing toward the front of the room.
“Good evening gentlemen.” I spoke up and, from the corner of my eye, saw Marco swiftly turn his gaze in my direction. As we locked eyes, I felt a feverish jolt of electricity pass through me. A smirk played on my lips for a meager second but it was enough for the faintest of blushes to mount Marco’s freckled cheeks. It was a different thing altogether: simply on-looking at Marco unbeknownst, and having his dream-like face looking at you directly, his chocolate eyes melting my self-restraint. But keeping distance was also part of the game.
“Since I am a Duke, and Marco is merely an Earl, he cannot not approach me first as that would be deemed highly improper.” The thought empowered me and I decided this was a supreme opportunity to let my freckled love know exactly who was controlling the situation.
“Why good evening Mr. Kirschtein, how are you feeling?” It was Eren Jaeger’s courteous voice that broke my train of thought.
“I am well, thank you Mr. Jaeger. How is your father? I heard he recently had to depart on an unplanned excursion overseas.” I inquired of the gentleman, doing my absolute best to keep my voice level as my head filled with the image of a blushing Marco. I could tell he was keeping a watchful eye on me. That not a single of my movements escaped him, and so, I rendered myself unable to keep up with Mr. Jaeger’s account of his father’s travels. Consequently, I did what any gentleman ought to do in such a situation: I waited for his monologue to finish, and then made a shamelessly poor excuse to leave. Since I was amongst the highest ranking of people in the room, I could easily get away with it.
“Marvelous story Mr. Jaeger, I could not be more interested but you must excuse me.” And with that I turned my gaze back to the sole reason for my attending this party. I was immensely pleased to note that Marco’s body was, albeit minimally, angled in my direction and I knew that he had been surveying me this whole time.
I covered the length of the ball room in casual, long strides, my eyes completely fixated on Marco. I absorbed his every feature as his form grew nearer – for no matter how many times I laid eyes on him, whenever I saw his freckled cheeks, butterscotch eyes, and thick hair I feel in love anew. At long last our bodies were mere inches away as I came to a stop at his side, facing Mr. Smith. The latter broke off mid-sentence when he saw me and spoke in a welcoming tone.
“How excellent to see you have been able to make it Mr. Kirschtein. I sincerely hope you are enjoying the party.” He extended a hand towards me, and as I reached out to shake it, I made sure my arm gave Marco’s shoulder a subtle brush. The contact was enough to make Marco visibly tense up and small goose-bumps involuntarily appeared where our bodies touched.
“It is a magnificent celebration, as expected from a magnificent General. Congratulations on ten years of honorable military service, Mr. Smith. We owe these peaceful times to you.” We shook hands, and as I pulled my arm back I once again gently rubbed it across Marco’s shoulder, just to make sure he knew it was no accident.
“Thank you, Mr. Bott said almost exactly the same thing just moments ago. It quickly becomes obvious how close of friends you are – you spend so much time with one another, even your vocabularies are starting to seep into each other.”
“You have no idea Mr. Smith,” ‘Just how close we are. The things that seep between Marco and I’, I thought, letting out a polite chuckle, “and how are you on this fine evening, Mr. Bott?”
“I- err… Yes, thank you Mr. Kirschtein I am very well.” He answered hastily, unable to hold my gaze for longer than two seconds. ‘He’s just so darn cute when he flustered.’ I thought as I continued looking right at him, struggling to keep my face indifferent. Our arms were still in the aggravating state of barely touching, and I was set on them remaining like that for as long as possible.
“I was just telling Mr. Bott about some of the fine ladies that have graced us with their presence tonight. Miss Mikasa Ackerman and Miss Krista Lenz are fabulous examples of the high standard of beauty presented by the ladies gathered here. I ought to have you gentlemen properly introduced, wouldn’t you agree?” The general spoke with a mischievous glint in his clear blue eyes.
“I happen to already be acquainted with both of the lovely ladies. However, if Mr. Bott should be interested in speaking with them, I shall gladly introduce him. How would that sound, dear” I purposefully paused and stole another glace into his hazel eyes, “…friend?”
“N-Yes, I would certainly enjoy the company of two such enchanting ladies.” All my staring and close contact were throwing Marco off balance more and more with each passing second and I was loving it. Flirting like this was always my domain and my innocent cluster of freckles did not stand a chance against it.
“Good evening Miss Lenz, you look as charming as ever.” I spoke, reaching to plant a delicate kiss on her outstretched hand.
“Good evening Mr. Kirschtein. And who is this fine gentleman?” she spoke, surveying Marco from head to toe. The intense look in her eyes sent a surge of venomous jealousy that resounded throughout my entirety. The fierceness with which it took my mind never failed to astound me and I intuitively moved closer to Marco. When our arms made contact yet again I felt the gentlest of touches against the inside of my palm: Marco had stroked it whilst lifting his arm to greet Miss Lenz. Our subtle game was continuing, and my Marco was becoming braver.
“Excuse me for not introducing myself right away. I am Marco Bott, and you must be Miss Lenz?”
Time seemed to drag on in a detestably slow manner. The more I wanted the party to finish, to escape this façade and to finally have Marco all to myself, the slower the hands of the clock seemed to make their way across its face as though someone had bewitched it. Even Krista seemed to be talking slower than usual, her well-synchronized movements and exaggerated sighs seemed to be playing in slow motion. I had drifted well away into my thoughts of a Marco alone to myself, when it happened.
A faint clank sound of metal against marble caught my attention. A waiter, who had been walking towards us miraculously holing three plates topped with cakes, had dropped one of the forks right at my feet. Just as I was about to reach for it, Marco stepped in front of me and bent over to pick it up. As he came up slowly, his tuxedo-clad ass brushed over my crotch and I felt a wave of heat surge through me. I all but gasped as my stomach seemed to twist upside down. Within seconds it was all over and Marco was back to his position beside me but I had been left utterly speechless by his bold move.
“Is everything alright, Jean? You seem distressed.” he turned to me and I swear to God he smirked at me. That bastard was belatedly asking for it. We were leaving together, and we were leaving promptly.
“Yes of course. Everything is perfectly fine, it is just that… I find it is hard… for me to concentrate on an empty stomach.” I spoke, my eyes boring into his, causing him to blush, which just made me want him more.
“I have just the perfect thing for you then, Mr. Kirschtein.” Krista smiled, gesturing towards the desserts which the waiter had brought. The chocolate cake was lavishly garnished with whip cream, and a kinky idea popped into my head.
I took the plate from the waiter, doing my best not to let my mischievous grin get the better of me, and cut of a small piece exceptionally cloaked in the cream. Directing the fork as to ensure some of the cream would remain on my lips I shifted towards Marco.
“That is delicious.” I murmured, slowly trailing my tongue across my upper lip, boring my eyes deep into Marco’s. In this exuberant light, they had the color of sweet, molten chocolate and, as he appraised my face, they widened and a soft blush had come onto his cheeks for the thousandth time that night.
“Youuu…” He breathed, just loud enough for me to hear and I could not help but chuckle at his half-assed defensiveness
Several hours later, the party was at long last drawing to an end. A downpour had begun some time ago, and it still did not seem as through the thunderous storm intended to stop anytime soon. Presently, a sheer wall of rain was raging outside. The best thing to do in such a situation would probably have been to wait out the storm, but since I was hours part the point of wanting to leave, and Marco seemed to be getting sexier every time I looked at him (which I did quite often), I decided we were leaving. Now. But leaving, just as all aspects of our game, also had to be done in a sneaky manner.
We were now once again engaged in conversation with Mr. Smith. I coughed three times at precisely three second intervals between each cough. It was a signal Marco and I had arranged to signify the beginning of the last stage of our game. Whoever issued the signal, meant for the other to quickly devise a strategy that would excuse our leaving together, perhaps even in the same carriage. Marco gave a curt nod, to say he understood the signal.
“Gentlemen, you will have to excuse me for a moment. I need to make an important phone call.” And with that, Marco left the ballroom in long, purposeful strides. When he returned some five minutes later, he had an anguished look about him.
“Has something happened, Mr. Bott?” the general asked, sounding concerned.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. I have just been informed that my carriage has been trapped in mud due to the heavy rainfall.”
‘Marco, you damn freckled genius.’
“That is awful luck Mr. Bott. But worry not, as the host of this party; I shall be delighted to let you rest in my house for the night.” Mr. Smith answered swiftly, and I almost blurted out for him to ‘kindly shut up’.
“Oh no, that would make me a terrible nuisance to you and your family. I cannot permit myself such a thing. I shall have to think of some alternative…” His voice trailed off as he discreetly nudged my side.
“That simply cannot be. I cannot allow a fine gentleman like you to be left in such an uncomfortable situation, especially not a close friend of mine. I shall take great pleasure in sharing my carriage with you to make sure you come… home safely.” As I spoke those words, my heartbeat began to race and it sent waves of feverish heat though me.
“It is settled then.” Mr. Smith smiled broadly.
We bid farewell to all the appropriate people, and made our way towards the mansion’s front gates. Upon reaching the carriage we were greeted by my coachman. He questioned whether we would stop by the Bott estate first and seemed quite surprised when I told him that would not be necessary.
“So what do you plan to do tonight?” Marco asked cheekily as we were sat together inside the large carriage.
“You. I plan to do you.” I murmured into his ear, putting my arm around his shoulder to pull him in even closer. I indulged myself in planting light kisses along his jaw line, the heat between our bodies almost palpable.
“Jean, not here…until we get home.” He breathed just as my lips reached his. They moved in perfect synchronization, filling the kiss with enough passion to drive anyone crazy. Marco cupped my cheek with one of his hands, and wove the other one into my hair as I pushed myself onto him a little more forcefully, deepening the kiss. My tongue began to massage the inside of his mouth, as though trying to memorize it, and he moaned into the kiss which made me all the more excited. Feeling lightheaded, I slowly pulled my head back, though still remained close enough to feel his excited breaths on my cheeks.
“Did you say something before…Mmm… Marco?” I purred, his flushed face inches from mine. His gorgeous eyes were narrowed and seemed to look right into my soul as me answered in a low, husky voice that sent electrical shivers down my spine.
“I can’t believe you sometimes Jean…”
“You’re such a tease Marco. Looking all over me like that the whole night through.” My voice was now barely audible. Our eyes could not seem to look away from one another. I touched my hand onto the one caressing my cheek and proceeded to gradually move them downwards along my neck, across my shoulder, ever farther down. His hand leisurely traced the shape of my naked torso as my jacket had been discarded and Marco’s other hand began to undo the shirt’s buttons – slowly, one by one, to match the pace of our intertwined hands. Having undone them all, he adoringly felt his way up to my shoulders and slid the shirt off completely.
“Well what do you expect me to do when you make yourself look so darn sexy? I can’t look away.” His voice was lustful as he devoured me with an equally lustful stare.
“Ok that’s it.” My voice was louder this time, and it surprised Marco, momentarily catching him off guard. I took this opportunity to gingerly lift him up, and then sit him on my lap so that is legs wrapped themselves around my waist. I smirked saucily when Marco didn’t protest.
“Your skin is so awfully covered… all this fabric.” The brunette chuckled at this remark as his soft hands moved down my back, eventually sliding under my pants. It was now my turn to undress and I felt my heart pulsing in my stomach as I moved in to kiss Marco’s neck, now more hurriedly, as my fingers worked away at the shirt.
“God I love your freckles… I want to kiss… each and every…one… of… the-them” I had been kissing along Marco’s freckled shoulders when I felt a slight prod just below my belly button. I grinned against Marco’s shoulder, gently moving my hips upwards in a circular motion then bringing them down again.
“J-Jean, this is embarrassing.” Marco’s voice quivered just as I shifted our bodies to lay him down on the carriage’s seat. A moan escaped his lips when my fingers rubbed the bulge in his pants while my other hand reached towards the safety handle positioned almost directly overhead.
“When you make that face,” My voice trailed off as I fiddled with the buttons, finally managing to undo them I murmured, “you take away all my self-restraint.” Our lips brushed together when I spoke, and Marco swiftly shifted his head to close the minuscule distance between them and we were kissing again, drowning in one another. Marco once again moaned into our kiss ad my hand found his erection and began to stroke his length rhythmically. He hardened almost immediately, which caused me to grim into our kiss before our lips parted.
“Marco.” I muttered the lust evident in my soft whisper.
“Jean!” He moaned, body arching forward as my strokes became faster, more firm, “Jean if you do that… I will…”
“I told you I’d make sure you came home, did I not?” I chuckled. Marco’s muscular arm coiled itself around my back as his penis began to twitch.
“J-Jean, and what about you?” Even his voice shook from the pleasure.
“Later.” I whispered against his neck, “you first.” I felt Marco’s heartbeat increase as I circled my thumb over the tip of his erection, simultaneously sucking gently on his freckled neck.
“H-ah! Ah!” Marco let out a surprised cry of pleasure when I my strokes began again, faster and more thorough than before, “Jean!” another cry escaped his lips, his eyes watering as his penis twitched, now more promptly, against my palm.
“Marco.” I purred, kissing hotly at the brunette’s neck, the strokes firm and even.
“A-ah, Jean!” With a final arch of his back, his cock twitched one last time, and the tightened the grip on my back as he came, shooting semen across the carriage.
“Shit, Marco.” I said, wrapping my arms around him to pull his as close as possible and, breathing heavily, he buried his face into the nape of my neck.
“I love you, Jean.” He breathed against my neck, and I hugged him tighter just as the carriage came to a stop.
And with that, we were kissing again, oblivious to the coachman waiting outside, “Once we’re inside, the real ride begins.”
This little story has been inspired by, and is dedicated to, an important friend of mine. I shan’t mention her by name, though here is a link to her tumblr . If you enjoyed this story, please stop by and thank her as it would never have come into existence without her.
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