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"….Why are there panties in this drawer…?" Marco asked softly, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was about to poke his hand in the drawer and pull out one — it had a Mario Mushroom on the ass part of the cloth — but thought better of it. He had learned the hard way not to pick up random things in Jeans room. For instance, that funnel he thought was a funnel? Yeah…. Not a funnel, at least, not in the traditional sense. Marco shivered slightly — he had to wash his hands for like five minutes before Jean allowed him to hug him again.
He was learning though, and Marco knew Jean appreciated that. As Jean always said “the important thing is that you’re trying, and that’s more than what most people do.” Then he’d go on a giant rant about Jaeger while Marco softly kissed away Jeans anger with kisses and tickles that Jean pretended to hate.
Though, it was slow and patient teaching, Marco was turning out to be a pretty damn good T-mate. Heh. Marco giggled at the nickname, liking the intimacy and long-term notion the title held.
But, staring back down at the panties packed a little messily in the small drawer, a drawer above all of Jeans other mysterious supplies, he was just confused and slightly turned on. Oh shit, Jean in panties. Marco instantly blushed at the mental image.
"I’m not like — into any kinky shit or anything, I mean, not unless you’re into that?" Jean laughed as he un-zipped his rain soaked jacket. He and Marco were going to snuggle up together and watch a movie after their dinner at Sasha’s restaurant (on the house, which was very nice of her) — and it was Marcos turn to pick this time and Jean was mentally preparing himself to be forced into watching the first Spider-man movie — one of Marcos favorites — again. Jesus Christ, the things he did for this boy.
It had been at least a month since that faithful day when Marco kinda… stumbled, into finally ‘figuring out’ Jean was Female to Male, and though it was awkward, really awkward, Marco had taken it to it like he did with all things challenging or new — He smiled real big, furrowed his brows, and stuck with it like the big wholesome Eagle Scout he was.
"So…. then, can I ask what the panties are for, if not for really interesting role play?" Marco laughed, his voice coming up hoarse with the image of it. God damn it Marco, your kinks are showing.
But then Jean was frowning and rubbing his stomach with one of his hands, his face making a really funny constipated look that had Marco both worried and intensely humored.
"Jean, you okay?" Marco asked suddenly, coming to his boyfriends side and rubbing his shoulder with one hand while the other joined the blonds at his lower stomach.
Jeans eyes widened and his face flushed and he looked like he was either about to throw up or die from embarrassment and or constipation.
"Marco, can you uh, check my calendar for the date with a sticker on it…?" Jean paused before he murmured a little abashedly, "the sticker’ll be a mudkip…" Marco smirked, feeling at least a bit of tension leave his shoulders as he walked towards the small calendar at Jeans desk, leaning over the blonds ancient laptop to tap his fingers against the puffy mudkip sticker.
"Uhhhh….. it’s on tomorrows date." Marco turned back to Jean. "Does that mean anything?" He furrowed his brows, catching Jeans suddenly annoyed look. The blond was still rubbing his lower stomach feverishly.
"Yeah, only that I’m an idiot and either suck at math or my body hates me…" He grumbled, but then Marco instantly got it, his mind clicking on and he felt like an idiot.
"Oh… Okay, well, uh, good thing we’re staying in, right?" He smiled, trying to be smooth about this but inside he was kind of self destructing. Growing up as the youngest of three boys, never having anyone who, uh, had these problems — except his mom but shit he wasn’t gonna’ ask her that—, Marco was a little in over his head. The last time this happened, Connie had stuck a tampon up his nose and Marco had been thrown in the deep end. But, Marco was determined to make this time turn out right. He owed that much to Jean.
"Hey, Marco, grab me one of those panties, would ya’?" Jean suddenly asked, making a ‘gimmie’ motion with his hands. Jeans face was pretty neutral, but Marco knew inside his boyfriend was internally freaking out. Jean was pretty "binary" when it came to his masculinity and Marco knew this could either end really badly or really well — and it was all up to the freckled man.
Picking the most neutral pair that he could find — blue and white stripes with an anchor on the front in stitch — he handed them to Jean and silently wondered if he should leave. Jean answered that for him by grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms and leaving for the bathroom with panties in tow, knowing he had a plastic box filled with pads somewhere underneath the sink counter.
Still curious about why Jean needed the panties, Marco just decided to calm himself down and prepare for the night.
Shucking his own pants and grabbing a pair of sweats that Jean left out for him — such a considerate boyfriend, letting Marco keep some of his own stuff in Jeans room — he then sat himself on the bed, absently playing with the comforter that smelled like Jean. That helped to calm him down some.
Soon though, Jean was re-entering the room and, his face a bit flushed, he walked over to his closet and resumed hanging up his jacket. Then came off his sweater. Then, hands curling over his rain-soaked wife beater, he seemed to have a moment of internal struggle, fidgeting in his stance.
Marco swallowed thickly, edging off the end of the bed to perhaps excuse himself? Let Jean know it was okay — what even ‘it’ was? What was he supposed to do?
They had been going out for a little more than four months and still nothing had been done except for a lot of heavy make out sessions and grappling over layers of clothing. It wasn’t that Marco was complaining — he wanted everything to be comfortable for Jean when and if the other boy decided they could go further, but in that time Marco had never seen Jean with just his binder on let alone bare flesh other than the other guys stomach.
But then, the stiffness still riveting through Jeans body, the other male seemed to have come to a decision. With his back to Marco, hand shaking from either the chill of the room or his own insecurities, Jean stripped off the heavy and damp tank top, revealing a short in length tight gray binder. Marco swallowed, feeling his big hands clench and unfurl at his sides. He knew he was witnessing and even perhaps participating in a very monumental and important moment. He didn’t speak, just watched.
Thin fingers that Marco loved to kiss and hold then came up to the side of the binder where Marco knew hidden clips lay. Connie had often compared it to Jeans armor, and in a way, it was like armor, with the little hooks creating a tightening shield.
With shaking movements once again though, Jeans fingers flitted over the hooks, each one coming undone and out of place. Marco felt his breath hitch.
Soon Jean had stripped the binder — smelling rank and moldy with water damage and over-use — and the piece of thinly constructed material fell to the floor.
Jean shivered, his bare back, the small sensation of a curled bit of flesh peeking from the edged angle at which he stood, and then faster than lightening Marco was at his back, pressing his warmed body against Jeans bare skin.
He was so very careful with his hands, placing them over Jeans collar bone and around his shoulders, his warm lips coming to rest themselves at the nape of Jeans neck. He kept his eyes closed like he knew he should. He kept his head up and his chin forward like he knew he should.
"I love you, so much Jean." Marco breathed against the chilled and slightly moist skin of his boyfriend. A tiny shuttering sob before Jean nodded, the back of his hair tickling Marcos brow.
"I love you too." He whispered back. his voice just a tad bit wrecked.
Then, with a smile on Marcos lips, he took off his own mostly dried shirt and pulled it over Jeans head. The blond took it eagerly, donning it like some kind of security blanket — and if Marco saw the flash of something fleshy, he dared not speak or dwell on it.
Knowing to leave the binder where it was crumpled on the floor like some kind of shed skin, Marco ushered Jean with shuffling steps to the living room couch.
Connie and Sasha were planning to drive through to Nevada where Sasha’s mom lived after her shift ended, some family reunion or something where Sasha’s parents wanted to show off Connie — so the two boys were alone for the night, and better off for it.
After Marco settled Jean down by the couch, pausing to turn on the Wii, then throwing the remote to Jean to fiddle with his netflix account, Marco went to go make some popcorn and turn on the electric kettle to heat up some water. After a smile and an afterthought, he dug around through the apartments cabinets and found Sasha’s stash of baking supplies.
Unwrapping a few blocks of caramel, Marco set them to melting in a metal bowl above some hot water, humming as he worked. Once the popcorn had popped and the caramel was pretty malleable, he dumped the kernels in a big bowl — one with little dicks etched on it, seriously, how did anyone take Connie’s art seriously?— and then drizzled a more than healthy amount of the gooey warm sugar over the popcorn. At the sound of the kettle clicking off, he got out the biggest mug he could find — one in the shape of a giant calico cat that Connie got from his trip back from visiting his mom and dad in China — Marco poured the water to the brim of the cup then dunked a peppermint tea bag in the hot water. Let it never be said that his Eagle scouting knowledge of what herbs worked best for stomach aches was useless.
After turning off the kitchen light with his elbow, which stung like a bitch can you say ow funny bone, he joined his sleepy looking boyfriend on the couch.
At the sight of the lovingly prepared special treats, Jean kissed Marco languidly and happily, his mood seeming to improve as he then shoved a large amount of the popcorn — still hot — in his mouth. He then took a large sip of his tea — which was still also hot -- and preceded to swear and whine even more, sticking out his tongue to cool it. Marco laughed as he watched Jean whimper in pain at the caramel sticking to the roof of his mouth. He earned an elbow in the ribs for his troubles.
But then they got settled in and Jean leaned into Marcos still bared chest, smelling his boyfriends Vegan fig and cedar smelling soap and the smell of sweat and rain. Clutching a couch pillow to his chest so that nothing could be visible, even the slightest bump, Jean snuggled back into warm arms.
Flicking the wii remote to Marco, he allowed Marco to happily click the Spider Man movie once again. Jean only grumbled slightly as the movies opening credits played, but the sound was drowned out by Marcos pleasant laughter and so all Jean could think about was this big dumb dorky Boy-Eagle Scout that he was dating — and Jean couldn’t be happier.