Chapter Text
"Eren, you bastard! You left me to do all your work!" Jean is fuming, hands on his hips, looking horribly out of proportion with his stern words as he is clad in a maid uniform like that of Eren's.
Eren, flushed from his… activities with Levi, could only nod, "Sorry," he says quietly, and spares an aroused look at his lover, who is standing beside him, arms crossed, looking as if he hasn't just fucked Eren.
Jean sighs, "Hurry it up. More customers are coming in."
He had suffered various cat-calls and insufferable remarks about his attire, and Eren being away had increased those asinine comments directed towards him.
Restless and wanting the day to just end, he leans his hands on the table before him, sighing once again.
Completely dejected already and it hasn't even been half the day, Jean doesn't realise that his posture - slightly bent over - is flashing the whole cafe with his butt.
Of course, like Eren, he's wearing a thin frilly underwear as per the uniform code, leaving eyes to wander along his ass.
A hand yanks at the skirt, to hide away the flesh, and Jean turns to give what he thinks is a molester a mouth-full of it -
But he stops when he sees the seriousness in Marco's eyes.
"Idiot," the usually happy-go-lucky dark-haired boy says in a low voice, "You're not for display."
Jean doesn't know if it's on accident or on purpose, but the boy's fingers brush underneath his skirt, and a whisper glides over his ear, "You're mine."
Jean, trying to ignore the display of possessiveness by his boyfriend, and the surge of excitment that passed through him because of it, gets back to his job.
He approaches a table of girls, and they're whispering, chattering, giggling as he nears.
"Are you ready to order?" Jean asks politely.
"Yes, I am." One of them chimes. "I'd like a big serving of you topped in whipped cream, you neko maid boy. Unf."
Oh shit, Jean thinks.
Otakus.
They had been bombarding the cafe throughout the whole of the day thus far, and their numbers were only ever increasing.
"I, uh, that's not on the menu. Sorry."
"You're a cosplay!" One of them whines, "You're meant to be the character - be the maid!"
"Um -"
"You're meant to wear cat-tails and 'nya, nya, nyahh~' around the place!"
"That's - "
"You're meant to grab that guy," they point towards Eren, "and drag him off to a lone classroom before bending him over and - "
A strong hand grips at his arm and Marco is there once more.
"Sorry," he says to the girls, and there's an evident tick in his voice.
Jean turns around to face him, and his eyes widen a fraction when he finds Marco glaring at the customers.
"Marco," Jean starts, and his boyfriend's eyes avert to him, noticeably softening.
"Oh my god," one of the otakus squeal before the two boys can say anything else, "They're it! Girls! They're it! Kyaaaaaa!!"
A chorus of squeals erupt from around the cafe, and Jean's face heats at the attention.
"W-We're not - "
Suddenly, a hand is at his head, and a pair of lips are pressed against his own.
Thrown off, Jean tries to pull away from the kiss but the familiarity of Marco consumes him - his taste, his lips - and he eventually stops trying to fight it, instead moving his lips against Marco's of his own accord.
A tongue swipes at his lip, and Jean parts his mouth, sighing when Marco's tongue is playing with his own. He reaches a hand up, and runs his fingers through Marco's hair, gasping when a hand is at his hip, moving down past his skirt, before fingers are brushing at his upper thigh, nearing his ass.
Jean moans softly, and then a deafening chorus of squeals tears them apart, along with the catcalls of the other male servers of the cafe.
Jean's face is red, and he's steaming, fizzling, trying to hide his face away with his arm as Marco pulls him out of the classroom without a word.