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The snow fell slow and calm outside the window, covering the small cottage among the trees in a sheltering silence. Distant voices drifted in and out through the walls and the door standing ajar, clearly there but not loud enough to make any sense of. At first Jean’s sleepy mind couldn’t place who they were either, but as his body started to wake up and Marco’s scent and presence filled his senses, the memories came back to him.
Jean glanced at the abandoned beds beside Marco’s. It was a small house and sharing the rooms was as natural here as it had been in their home in Trost. However, Jean had never stayed long in that house, definitely not an entire night, so this was all new.
‘Where is Jean going to sleep?’ one of the twins had asked after their dinner the evening before. With the heavy darkness of the night pressing against thick snow, surrounding and wrapping around everything, the children must have realised Jean wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, they knew Jean’s horse was currently comfortable in the small stable, so expecting him to stay really wasn’t a far-fetched thought.
‘With me,’ Marco responded where he stood with his hands in the bowl of water and plates; although he kept his voice matter-of-factly, Jean noticed the faint pink colour warming his ears.
The twins squinted at them both for a moment before the other one said, ‘You’re not going to do anything, are you?’
Marco’s annoyance flared up at that, but Jean suspected it was more to hide his embarrassment than any real anger at his siblings. ‘We are going to sleep,’ he said, brows furrowed and voice a little snappy. Stern tone telling them to stop asking about this, but without actually saying it. Jean suppressed a smile behind his hand.
The twins sniggered but ran away to play some more before it was time for bed, leaving Jean alone with their brother. Marco had finished the dishes and now fidgeted with his tunic, eyes moving over the cleaned plates instead of meeting Jean’s eyes. He didn’t look up until Jean came closer and leaned his cheek to Marco’s shoulder, peering up at his face.
‘Hey,’ Jean mumbled, giving Marco a soft smile. ‘What’s wrong?’
Marco’s sighed and shook his head. ‘Nothing,’ he said, taking Jean’s hand and squeezing it as he turned around. ‘Everything is good.’ His eyes moved down Jean’s body, brows furrowed again. He tugged Jean along into the room he shared with the twins; it was small, with only the beds and an old chest placed by the foot of one of them. The chest held all clothes they weren’t currently wearing, and at the sight of it Jean’s thoughts rushed back to his own grand wardrobe at home. It was all so unfair.
‘Do you want something else to sleep in?’ Marco asked. He had knelt on the floor when opening the chest, and now searched through it. ‘I only have one nightshirt and it’s used... but you can borrow this clean shirt...’
‘It’s all right, I can sleep in this,’ Jean replied, silently reprimanding himself for not thinking of bringing other clothes with him.
‘N-no, those are all too nice to sleep in.’ Marco fell silent for a moment, eyes trailing back from Jean to the open chest. ‘Except I guess your nightshirts are far better than my ordinary clothes...’
‘Hey, hey Marco.’ Jean knelt beside him and placed his hand on top of Marco’s with a gentle squeeze. ‘Where’s this coming from? You know I don’t care about this stuff. Do you really think I’ve changed that much?’
‘No... I don’t know why I’m so nervous.’ Marco shifted his hand to entwine their fingers, a small smile returning to his lips. ‘I’m just so happy to see you. I can’t believe it’s real.’
Jean smiled and leaned closer to press a soft kiss to Marco’s lips. Marco sighed into it, his body relaxing. ‘You know what?’ Jean mumbled against Marco’s mouth, taking the shirt Marco was holding. ‘I’ll sleep in this...’
‘But that’s the used one—’
‘I know.’ Scooting back a bit to get more room for his arms, Jean unbuckled his belt and took off the vest, before pulling his own shirt over his head. He only glanced at Marco to see how he tried to avoid staring at Jean’s bare chest, a faint blush warming his cheeks. Jean almost teased him, but then his own nervousness took over and he quickly pulled on the night shirt.
It still felt the same between them, but many months had passed without any possible word of contact. Despite knowing there was no need for it, a shy tension hung between them. Adding to that, the twins could come back any moment, and Jean rather avoided causing any more embarrassment for Marco.
They both rose back to their feet. Jean ran his hands over the worn fabric; it fit his size better than he had expected. Marco would most likely always be taller, and his shoulders were still slightly broader. But the rest of him was slim, and the wide difference in their lifestyles was beginning to show more than ever before. Jean had never had a meal too small, and with all the training and exercise his social status required of him, it was only natural his body shaped accordingly.
Looking to Marco now, Jean found him watching with a smile and gleaming eyes. When Jean stepped closer, Marco brushed careful hands over Jean’s chest and shoulders, so focused on what he was seeing he didn’t seem to notice how he wetted his lips before the front teeth bit into the lower one.
Jean smirked a little to himself and leaned into Marco’s space. ‘You take the clean one,’ he said, nudging his nose against Marco’s. ‘And then tomorrow I’ll get you a new one from the tailor.’
Frowning, Marco looked up at Jean’s face and traced his fingers down his arms. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ he insisted, but Jean wouldn’t let that change his mind.
‘Maybe not,’ he admitted, gently steering Marco’s closer again with a hand on his neck. ‘But I want to. I want to give you everything.’
This kiss lasted longer, their lips finding a familiar rhythm against each other. Marco’s hand was on the small of Jean’s back, pressing them closer together, and Jean was more than glad to lean into it. Eyes closed, just savouring in this moment of only the two of them.
They didn’t part until the twins stood in the doorway, making loud, disgusted noises at the sight of the kissing. But their eyes shone with laughter, and Marco’s glare at them was weak.
Sighing contently, Jean now admired Marco’s sleeping form. His face was so peaceful, so beautiful, and Jean’s chest filled with such affection he didn’t know what to do with himself. Nuzzling into the crook of Marco’s neck and inhaling deep, Jean listened to the twins’ merry chatter outside.
It had been an interesting experience having the curious kids peering at them with gleeful faces while dropping comments about how close they were lying to each other. (‘Oh my god, Marco, are you going to be this cute all night? We’re going to puke.’) It was remarkable how long Marco’s patience with them held, especially considering how they said everything with a teasing snicker poorly hidden behind the words. But once his patience did break he threatened to throw them out unless they kept quiet and slept. So they settled with small giggles and ridiculous kiss-sounds muffled by their pillows.
Marco apologised again for the whole situation, now with tired and embarrassed eyes. But Jean just smiled and held him closer, fingers pressing into Marco’s skin under his shirt; a small gesture of intimacy hidden from the twins by darkness and blankets.
Jean was surprised they had let them sleep this morning. Their voices did still wake him but it wasn’t intentional, and this way was far better than them jumping the bed screaming, which he had feared would happen. Listening to them now he realised there was a third voice among them, and it was far from as cheery as the kids’. Suddenly wide awake, he looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps leading the person to the bedroom door.
Elana Bodt stared back at him with an unreadable expression in her face. But it told him that his time in bed was over; he managed to wriggle himself from between the wall and Marco’s arms without disturbing him, and left the bed with a quick kiss to his temple. He saw in the corner of his eyes that Mrs. Bodt noticed it before she left to let him get dressed in private. Marco hummed happily in his sleep, lips curving into a soft smile that made the butterflies in Jean’s chest flap their wings faster. But he didn’t stir.
The twins sat by the table, their faces split in wicked grins and greeted Jean with more kiss-sounds. Their mother sent them a scolding glare and they rushed out, leaving Jean to his fate.
He wasn’t sure what to expect. Last time they met she had spit at his feet, cursing the nobility and him with it. Was she intent on screaming at him now and then send him away? Would she do it coolly? He knew saying she didn’t like him was an understatement; it had always bothered him that Marco’s family was so against him but with how things were he never got a chance to prove them wrong about him. But now the need to make her change her mind bordered on desperation in his stomach. He had already lost Marco once; had just found him again. He couldn’t bear being forbidden to visit.
‘Why are you here?’ she asked finally, voice calm but with an underlying cold. It reminded Jean of his own mother, and the thought of her icy anger made his stomach churn harder.
‘I—I wanted to see Marco,’ he started, but she wouldn’t let him say anything more.
‘How did you find us?’
‘Hanji. They sent me a message.’
‘Did it ever cross your mind what would happen if someone followed you? You endanger all of us by coming here!’
‘I took all precautions I could to make sure no one knew. I swear, the last thing I want is for anything to happen to Marco, or any of you.’ Jean swallowed, thinking about how he was the reason they had to flee last year. ‘I—I never wanted to cause you any harm…’
Mrs. Bodt studied him in silence, freckles disappearing in the wrinkles of her deep frown. She didn’t ask it out loud, but the question was clear in her expression. Are you here to take him away?
‘I only wanted to see him,’ Jean repeated. ‘And I could never ask him to… I mean I know I did but… I can’t and I won’t take him from you. I just want to see him at times, when it’s possible. I—I… I know it might be nothing but words to you but I truly… I love him so much. And I’m so sorry that all I ever caused you was pain—’
The next moment Marco tore open the door to his bedroom, expression frantic and eyes searching over the room he was stumbling into. His gaze set on Jean and his tense shoulders relaxed in relief; he rushed forward the few steps separating them and pulled Jean into a tight hug.
‘You’re here,’ he exhaled, voice muffled by Jean’s shoulders and held back tears behind the words, swaying from one side to the other as he held Jean even closer. Jean hugged him back, rubbing soothing circles into Marco’s tense back and kissed whatever part of skin he could reach.
‘I’m here, love,’ he whispered back. ‘Marco. Marco, I’m here.’
With another shivering sigh, Marco leaned his forehead to Jean’s. ‘I woke up and you were gone and I thought… oh god I thought I had d-dreamed it, but you were so real, I could still feel your warmth…’ He broke off his own sentence to instead pepper Jean’s face with desperate kisses, before hugging him tight again. Surrounded by Marco’s arms, Jean felt him tense again when he met his mother’s eyes, the embrace tightening around Jean’s back almost protectively. ‘I know what you’re thinking, but I won’t let you—’
‘We were just talking, Marco,’ Mrs. Bodt retorted, the coldness in her voice gone. Jean frowned into Marco’s shoulder, and then turned around when Marco loosened his hold of him. Mrs. Bodt had returned to the stove to finish the food. ‘Is a mother not allowed to chat with her son’s beloved?’
Marco gaped at her back, but she paid his surprise no mind. When he turned his unasked question to Jean instead, Jean just gave him an uncertain smile and shrugged.
‘Marco, do fetch your siblings, please. The food is almost ready.’
Marco hesitated, looking from his mother to Jean and back again. When it remained silent behind her, Mrs. Bodt gave him a glance over her shoulder, nodding shortly towards the door. ‘Now, please. The guest can sit down.’
Marco squeezed Jean’s hand, sending a silent stare at his mother before he left to do what he was told.
Sitting down, Jean wondered if she sent Marco away to continue arguing or express more displeasure with him being there. He didn’t realise how tense he was until her fingers brushed over his shoulder in a gentle gesture. She leaned over it to place the bowls on the table and caught Jean’s eyes with a glance.
‘Not only pain,’ she said, a small smile settled on her face.
-
It was almost unreal, sitting at a table eating food with Marco’s family. Sure, they had done so last night too, and only one more person was present now, but she made a tremendous difference. Every trace of coldness was gone, and instead only warmth seeped through the easy chatter. Jean couldn’t believe he was actually part of it.
Between words to his mother about how her work had been, Marco sent affectionate glances at Jean, his pinky finger hooking around Jean’s between them on the table. He was surprised and amazed too, Jean could tell, and the happiness shone from his smile.
‘Hurry up now,’ Mrs. Bodt said when emptying the table and the twins still played around with their food. ‘We’ll go visit your sister when you’re done.’
The twin closest to Jean looked up at him, eyes filled with excitement. If he were to continue to meet them like this he really had to learn to tell them apart. Somehow. He decided this one must be Milo, but he might as well be wrong. ‘Will Jean come too?’
Mrs. Bodt glanced at Jean across the table before turning back to her youngest children. ‘Maybe another time. Marco and he have a lot of catching up to do.’
‘They can catch up while we go there!’ Macy said with a wide gesture of her arms.
‘Yes, and they were hugging each other all night, how much longer do they need?’
‘I heard they were talking too.’
‘And kissing.’ Sniggering they both sent wide grins towards the two in question, and glancing to his side Jean saw Marco glare back at them, the power in it weakened by his flustered expression. Jean reasoned he probably shouldn’t think about how cute Marco was like this. The teasing was directed at him too after all, but he just couldn’t be bothered when it came with seeing Marco this way with his family. It was so natural, not a single sign of hesitation caused by Jean’s position. It was like if it didn’t exist at all.
His thoughts reached towards home, wondering how his own brothers would have behaved if things were different. They would be a pain, no doubt, as they already had been. They figured out far too soon that Jean was in love, and especially Erick had found it incredibly amusing to tease Jean about who he was sneaking out to meet. He asked questions and offered embarrassing advice about how best to ‘please a woman’, not caring about Jean’s protests. Finally, Jean had in alarmed embarrassment confirmed there really was someone by retorting it was a boy, not a girl. His brother then corrected himself and went on about men instead. Remembering this, Jean was thankful Marco hadn’t been present to hear any of it or witness Jean burning to ashes as he tried to get away from his insistent brother.
Both he and Alden would like Marco, Jean was sure, if only they could see past the issue of the forbidden witchcraft. While he didn’t expect it to be easy, it might at least not be an impossibility. Last winter they had both been reluctant to condemn Marco for his method of saved Jean. And they both knew better than their parents that Jean falling for him had happened gradually, not a transformation caused my magic overnight. Even though, in truth, he had become far more obvious after that specific night with the stars and first kisses. But they had been teasing him already for a year by that point, noticing it before he understood it himself. It wasn’t something appearing from thin air.
So maybe. Maybe one day it would be his family gathered like this, welcoming Marco… Jean chuckled at his own thought and shook his head. It would never be like this. But maybe in a different way. After all, he’d never dared to hope for this either.
Mrs. Bodt wanted to hear none of the twins’ teasing. She snapped their attention back to her with a gesture of her fingers, giving them pointed stares. ‘Children, please. We are going to leave them alone.’
It still took them some time before they were ready to go. Mrs. Bodt did her best to hurry up the process, as she wanted to get there while it was still light. Looking through the window, Jean realised they must have slept until close to noon; the few hours left before the falling dark of the winter night were quickly slipping away.
While waiting for them to leave, Marco mumbled about how his mother had needed a horse for the longer distances she travelled for work. But they had only been able to afford an already old and tired one. Without hesitation Jean offered them to take his horse for this trip. She was rested after all, and friendly even with strangers so once Jean had introduced them it shouldn’t be any problems. Besides, it wasn’t more than fair to let the rightful inhabitant of the small stables take the space now that they were home.
Silence fell heavy when they finally left. Marco lingered by the door he had closed behind them, slowly turning around to face Jean while his hands fumbled with his clothes and the furniture standing close by. There was a smile moving over his lips; a jolt ran through Jean at the sight of the shyness mixed with the gleam in Marco’s eyes.
This was the first time they’d been alone together for almost a year. Completely alone.
‘So, uh…’ Jean cleared his throat and looked away from Marco’s fleeting gaze, his arms crossed over his chest in a tense posture. ‘How, um, how long will they be gone, you think?’ When Marco didn’t answer, Jean looked up at him again. His ears were hot, and it was quickly spreading over his face. ‘A few hours?’
A blush warmed Marco’s skin too, and he brushed his finger under his nose in a nervous gesture. ‘Actually… it’s pretty far away. They won’t get there until around supper so… I’d assume they stay over. The night, I mean.’
Jean’s eyes widened as he realised just how long they would be alone. ‘Oh,’ was all he said.
During the short time that had passed since Mrs. Bodt said they were leaving, Jean entertained countless ways he hoped to treat Marco, or have Marco treat him. He prayed under his breath for time to go faster, to get them out and away now now now. But now he stood rooted to the floor, frozen from a shyness mirroring the one reflected in Marco’s expression too. It was frustrating, embarrassing and exciting, all at once.
Marco took the steps from the table that separated them and stopped in front of Jean. ‘So… we have time,’ he said, chewing on his lip around the coy smile and trailed his fingers up Jean’s arm. ‘There’s no rush.’
Jean nodded, breathing out a short ‘no rush’ in reply. Then, with a smile spreading in his face, he touched Marco’s cheeks and neck, and pulled him closer into the waiting kiss. Marco’s own smile widened and he hummed happily.
They stood there for a while, just holding the other close and breathing in each other’s existence. Hands travelled up their backs through the folds of the shirts. Air was warm between their touching lips, the intimacy shivering over skin. Silence and solitude wrapped around them, the serenity relaxing any remaining tension in their bodies.
Then smiles broke into hushed giggles, and still close together they stumbled back into Marco’s room. Jean let himself be led backwards towards the bed; Marco mumbled apologises against his mouth for hitting corners of furniture standing in the way, but Jean only laughed it away. Once his back was on the mattress their lips had barely parted at all.
Marco’s fingertips trailed like fire, sparkling and burning into Jean’s skin as Marco fumbled to get the shirt over his head. Jean’s breath caught in his throat, wavering. It had been so long , and now the smallest touch was enough to send his head spinning. Once his arms were freed from the shirt he wrapped them around Marco’s neck and shoulders, fingers tangled in his dark curls, pressing him closer to sigh into his lips.
Marco pulled away after the quick kiss, his weight resting on his arms as he stared down at Jean below him. The admiration was so clear in his eyes, in the way his fingers slid over Jean’s pale skin. Jean knew he compared to how fragile his ill body had been last time, but not only that. Almost a year had passed and even though Jean himself didn’t think about the change, Marco was sure to notice the broader shoulders and defined muscles under his fingers. Taking a deep, shaky breath Marco leaned down and planted slow, steady kisses over Jean’s chest. His spread hand moved to the symbol the healing had left over Jean’s heart; catching his breath, Jean placed his own hand over Marco’s and squeezed.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ Marco whispered when he looked up again, smiling and at the same time struggling with his voice to keep the tears away. ‘So well, so full of health. There is not a single sign–’
‘Hey,’ Jean whispered, stroking fingers over Marco’s chin and quivering lips. ‘It’s all right. Everything’s all right.’
But Marco shook his head. ‘I—I thought… for a while there, it wasn’t… you were so ill I feared it was too late, that it wouldn’t be enough even if I got the chance… we lost so many people…’ Moving up to rest his forehead to Jean’s, Marco swallowed hard. Tears finally slid down his cheeks and his voice trembled as he continued, ‘I—I was losing you and I couldn’t do anything— ’
‘But you did,’ Jean cut in, insistent, and caught Marco’s blank eyes with his own. ‘You risked your life for me. You’re strong and amazing and so damn talented with your gifts. I just—I…’ There was so much he wanted to say but had no words to convey it all, and instead his voice trailed off. Marco suppressed a shaking sob and buried his face in the crook of Jean’s neck; Jean wrapped his arms around Marco’s back to hold them close together, pressing kisses to where he reached on a wet cheek. ‘You saved my life,’ he mumbled into it, nuzzling his nose against the curling hair around Marco’s ear.
‘I love you.’ Marco’s voice was muffled and watery but the words still clear; the fingers digging into Jean’s arms held on tight and yet gentle. ‘I love you, I love you.’
Jean lifted himself up, first to his elbows before Marco moved with him the rest of the way back to a sitting position. ‘And I love you.’ Jean wiped at Marco’s wet cheek gently, giving him a crooked smile. ‘And you’re going to make me cry too, and I don’t think any of us want that mess.’
Marco laughed a little, wiping his own tears with more force. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled. But he was smiling, and he brought it with him into the next kiss.
With most of his focus on Marco’s lips, Jean’s fumbling with Marco’s shirt took a little extra time before he managed to get it over Marco’s head. But once it was thrown away, Jean ran his hands over the familiar tattoos, lips trailing kisses along one down Marco’s neck. It rewarded him with soft noises of urgent approval, the sound lovelier and more thrilling to him than any music he knew. Glancing up, he saw Marco’s eyelashes flutter. His lips were parted and breath shivering as he leaned into Jean, long dark curls still messy from last night. Gods, he was so beautiful.
‘I love you,’ Jean said again, breathed the words against Marco’s ear. When he steered them back to the pillows, this time with Marco beneath him, Marco followed in the movement without hesitation. Lying back he smiled with a pleased sigh; Jean brushed a strand of hair from his face and then leaned down to plant a soft kiss to his lips. ‘What do you want?’ he whispered into it, sliding one hand down Marco’s side and stomach, fingers pressing extra into familiar spots he knew would send thrills through Marco’s veins.
‘You.’ Marco touched Jean’s cheeks with gentle hands ‘Like this,’ he whispered, holding Jean’s gaze with eyes burning with affection. ‘Close. Just be close.’
A shimmer from the window fell over Marco’s features, twinkled like specks of gold in his dark eyes. And in that moment, Jean knew he had to make this his life. No matter what it would take to get there, he wanted no other future than with Marco by his side. Always. He smiled, all the love he felt for this beautiful, beautiful boy holding his heart in an almost painfully tight grip. But it was a comfortable ache. Something he never wanted to be without. Letting his eyes flutter closed, Jean pressed the softest of kisses to Marco’s lips, hoping it told him what he was feeling.
Slow and careful and loving, they took their time getting to know each other’s bodies again, learning every way they had both grown the past year. With their fingers laced on the sheets, Jean kissed the remaining teardrops from under Marco’s eyes and then let Marco do the same for him. But there were also smiles. Smiles that turned to laughter, breaking into blissful sighs and whimpers against each other’s mouths.
The grey light of day shifted into night while they lay there, wrapped so close together it wasn’t certain where one of them ended and the other began. They drifted in and out of sleep, nose nuzzled against a cheek or buried in the crook of the other’s neck. And although the world outside was windy and freezing, their hearts were warm and steady, beating as one.