III. Valentine's Day (Jeanmarco)

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written on — 14.2.14

inspiration — ssejery on tumblr made a headcanon and this just kind of happened the second i saw it.

word count — 750

artwork —  okay so this isn't necessarily artwork; it's a text post. i got the inspiration from it and so... ta-da. if you want to support this and reblog it on tumblr, the link is in the external. if you want just the original post, click on ssejery's username in the post. this is lowercase because, in the text post, i wrote it on my phone in a rush of excitement.

VALENTINE'S DAY

jean held the box in one hand, the free one hovering over the front door. should he knock now? was this a bad time for him to go over? he didn't even know whether marco was home or not because he wanted his visit to be a surprise.

         he found himself knocking anyways.

         anticipation was killing him as he now held the box of chocolates with both his hands. he rocked on the balls of his feet impatiently, afraid that his previous worry about marco not being home resurfacing. but...marco had told him that nothing was happening on valentine's day, right?

         jean began to walk back down the pathway when the door opened and he froze.

         "jean?" he turned around to meet a topless marco, fatigue gracing his freckled face. he ran a hand through his hair and furrowed his eyebrows. "what are you doing here?"

         "i–i just, um–" jean bit his lip. he didn't know why he was doing this when he couldn't even properly get the words out in front of his own mirror. "i just wanted to wish you a happy valentine's day and i decided to, um, get you some chocolates." he stretched both his arms out and focused his gaze on the box but of course right behind the box was marco's chest and he was beginning to have trouble controlling himself. "you–you don't have to accept them, you know, if you don't want to..."

         marco smiled. "i'd love them, actually. happy valentine's day." he held his hand out and took the box from jean, who rubbed the back of his neck with one free hand. when he opened the box, though, there was only one chocolate instead of the full fourteen that there was supposed to be. the freckled boy attempted not to burst out laughing by arching his eyebrow instead. "uh, jean? are there supposed to be chocolates in here, or..."

         "oh god." jean couldn't stop staring at the box. there was no doubt that his entire face and ears and neck were all probably tomato-red. he had picked up the wrong box in a hurry out of his house. this wasn't how his valentine's proclamation was supposed to go. "oh my god, marco, i am so sorry- i picked up the wrong box when i was leaving. i didn't mean to, i swear. i just got kind of nervous because i wrote a note in the box and accidentally ate the chocolates so i went to buy a new one and right now it's at home while this one—"

         marco clapped a hand over jean's mouth. his hand was even warmer on his face. "jean, forget the chocolates. what were you going to ask me?"

         marco took his hand off jean's mouth. "ask you?"

         "you said there was a note you'd written. what did it say?"

         "it–um, it said–it asked—" jean stopped himself again. he didn't plan this; there was areason he wrote in on paper and that reason was because he knee he'd stutter. it was now or never, though, and he had already waited long enough to ask him. "would i be your valentine?"

         and he messed it up.

         "no," jean waved his hands in front of him, "i meant, like, it's valentine's day and there are people asking people because crushes and loveand i was wondering if you'd like to be my, uh—"

         he didn't even finish the sentence. marco grabbed both of jean's hands — that were still flailing in a failed attempt to calm himself — and pulled him in closer. the question was cut off by a kiss and, oh, how jean wanted to kiss him for so long. now that he was, though, he couldn't even do anything. his hands were trapped.

         when marco pulled away, jean noticed he was blushing and grinning madly. he looked cute when he blushed, not like jean with his tomato face. marco finally spoke up. "yes, i'll be your valentine. sorry for being asleep when it's one in the afternoon."

         jean's eyes subconsciously trailed from marco's face back down to his torso. "it–it's fine. um...do you want to go out? after you put on a shirt and all?"

         "yeah, why not?" marco let out a laugh. "come on in, i'll be ready in a few minutes."

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