Deeply Devoted - A JeanxMarco AU

Game Night

Jean's POV:

Marco cleaned the apartment while I got ready and started cooking the food for our friends.  

It was now later in the afternoon, several hours have passed.  Even though I read the message from Connie, I didn't reply.  I should have, I know he's going to bring it up later.  But that's just something I'll have to deal with later. 

Marco got out of the shower while I finished up rolling the stromboli I was making.  I tossed it in the oven as Marco came around the corner, drying his hair with only a pair of form-fitting black pants on.  

"You look great," I smirked up at the man when we made eye contact, him coming over to analyze what I was doing.

"We can't do this again, Jean," he rolled his eyes jokingly at me, "we have stuff to make."  

"Doesn't mean I can't admire you," I replied happily, eyeing up the man.

"Well, stop," he laughed as he brought the towel that was in his hands up to his hair, drying it with the towel.  

I turned around and looked at the mess in the kitchen, needing to set the small sandwiches on a platter before putting them in the fridge to stay fresh.  I sighed, walking over and grabbing the large plastic plate that I had, setting it back down on the counter where I needed it to be.

"Can I help?"  Marco walked back into the hallway before returning with a shirt in his hands.  He pulled it over his head as soon as he reached the kitchen.

"You and I can bake in a second, I just have to finish this up..."

"It smells great in here, what's in the oven?"  He scanned over the mess, cringing because he just cleaned the apartment.  

I took note of his facial expression, "Hey, I'll clean up, okay?  Just two more things and then I'll make sure it's in mint condition."  

"Jean, it's okay," he laughed, walking over and standing next to me.  "Do you want me to start on something?"  

"My moms recipe book is there," I pointed to the small book on the opposite side of the kitchen, "do you want to pick out a dessert you want to make?  I'm making cookies, but I don't know what I want to do for the second dessert."  

"What else do you have?"  He asked, walking over and picking up the book, flipping through the pages.  

"Stromboli and little ham and cheese sandwiches.  I have a fruit, vegetable, and cheese platter too that I picked up from the store yesterday.  They said they have drinks, I just hope they bring something else other than alcohol.  If anything, I'll just go out and get something..."

"Jean, why are you stressing so much?"  He laughed, looking up from the book.  I didn't even realize, but I was being frantic.  I was talking fast, sloppily putting the sliders on the tray.  "They're your friends.  And," he closed the book and walked over to the opposite side of the counter, "why are you making so much food?  There's only five of us?"  

"You'll see," I laughed, wiping my hands on the apron I was wearing.  I soon put plastic wrap over the now neat try of sandwiches, putting them in the fridge.  

"Can we make these?"  He opened the book again, his finger was holding the place of the page.  "They're strawberry cheesecake bites."  

"Yeah!"  I smiled at him, looking down at the book that he had opened for me.  "Do we have the things we need to make them?"  

"Yeah, I think so," he read over the ingredients, "it seems pretty simple."  

"Then it's set," I smiled again, clearing the kitchen of my mess before grabbing what we needed for the desserts.