Jean Kirstein (HORSEY GALORE) (
bravelypees) wrote in
compyuutah2013-11-25 05:29 am
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Entry tags:
frotlog2013
[After Armin's death the atmosphere between the 104th Squad had been tense. The death of a comrade–a friend in most cases–hit everyone at varying levels, though none so much as three. Mikasa seemed the most visibly upset, hunting down a "murderer" that may or may not be real while Jean and Eren worked it out their own ways.
For Jean, it meant working past it. Moving forward. Numbing himself to the sights and sounds so that it was easier to forget and easier to run away from. The problem was, he needed distractions for it. Work. Extra training. Prolonged patrols. That sort of thing. The Commander was more than willing to comply but the issue lied within who he was paired with.
It was hard to move on when your patrolling partner was the person who held the other shovel.
Through a substantial miracle, they had managed to almost complete their first patrol–albeit in an uncomfortable silence. The discomfort was familiar, at least, which made it slightly better. But the fact of the matter was that the distance between the two of them was bridged by words left unuttered and hanging; dead weights of possible conversations. Multiple elephants in a tiny room.
It's halfway through the Outskirts that Jean decides he's had enough.]
If you've got a problem you should come out and say it.
For Jean, it meant working past it. Moving forward. Numbing himself to the sights and sounds so that it was easier to forget and easier to run away from. The problem was, he needed distractions for it. Work. Extra training. Prolonged patrols. That sort of thing. The Commander was more than willing to comply but the issue lied within who he was paired with.
It was hard to move on when your patrolling partner was the person who held the other shovel.
Through a substantial miracle, they had managed to almost complete their first patrol–albeit in an uncomfortable silence. The discomfort was familiar, at least, which made it slightly better. But the fact of the matter was that the distance between the two of them was bridged by words left unuttered and hanging; dead weights of possible conversations. Multiple elephants in a tiny room.
It's halfway through the Outskirts that Jean decides he's had enough.]
If you've got a problem you should come out and say it.
no subject
With a snarl, he tries to push up, his snarl only inches from Eren's.]
Am I jealous?!
[Futilely, he struggles, trying to kick Eren off of him and getting stuck, knees catching between his thighs. Jean pushes anyway. A knee to the groin should be just as painful as anything else.]
He was the only one I had left!
[Eren had Mikasa. Eren was respected, liked, trusted. If Jean died would anyone care? Would Mikasa blink, would Annie glance? Would there be anyone to remember him the same way he'd be for them?
Anger builds up and brings him shouting into Eren's mouth.]
I'm doing the only thing I can!
thanks, cards against humanity
But there's still someone's thigh sliding up between his and way, way too much friction against his trousers. They'd fought at least a dozen times before this, when Shadis wasn't looking and sometimes during spars, but it was never. Emotionally charged besides with dumb teenage testosterone and bravado. And there's a heat in his gut and it's almost hilariously mistimed despite the situation and unwelcome and—
Eren breathes out an automatic, slightly horrified noise that dies halfway in his throat: he's immediately torn between scrambling away and staying put so he can beat some sense into him. And in the end he goes with an awkward mix of both, because Jean's words make his temper and confusion flare up; what was this idiot going on about? Did he really think Armin was the only person who cared?
(Eren realizes he'd had at least had Mikasa to suffer with. Where did Jean go after they'd burned the body, who did he confide in—)
He draws back onto his knees, having to slack on his grip in the process. His voice is, however, just as forceful as ever. ]
I'm your friend, you stupid son of a bitch!
you're welcome
Yet here the alternative was re-emerging. Pushing itself to the surface and it catches him off-guard, propped up on his elbows blinking stupidly.]
What?
[His gaze drops down, embarrassment flooding over him in a flushed wave and it's then that he sees it.]
What the fuck is that?! [The moment is ruined quickly. Frantically, Jean tries to scramble back and fails. He settles with pulling back his shoulders, staring in horror and disgust at the tent in Eren's pants.] Did you get–
[He's got one leg free. Jean uses it to his advantage, using his foot push against Eren's crotch to both cause him pain and kick him off.] IS THAT A BONER!?
thank you, rage boners
But then Jean goes and fucking ruins it with his big mouth, as usual. As though that first crotchshot hadn't backfired miserably enough, Jean just. Insists on making this worse and there's a sudden pressure on his groin and he lets out some strangled noise halfway between a gasp and a groan; he grabs hold of the other teen's lapels to avoid getting tossed off, glaring. ]
Sh— [ It's kind of pathetic, but he loses his voice and kind of stares haplessly at Jean before starting up again. ] Shut up! [ He shouts into his face, teeth grinding together and ears burning red. ] Look we're— it's nothing, just...
[ He works to drag them both to their feet so he doesn't have to awkwardly straddle Jean, but he doesn't let go of his jacket either. They weren't done talking, and he knows he'd bolt the instant he could. ]
Ignore it, all right!? [ for the love of god could they just not talk about this ever again ]
no subject
[No. No touching lapels. No staying close to each other. Not when he knows there's. Another. Guest.
He tries hard to pull away, pushing at Eren's chest, face, hands–anything he can to remove himself from the other boy.]
Leave me out of your sick fantasies, you freak!
no subject
...But it's not at it's worst point yet. Eren blindly grips at his shirt as Jean tries to shove away from him, voice pitching off into way too loud territory again, in part because of residual anger, and now some mixed embarrassment. Because. He really wishes he'd stop roaming around so much with his hands? Who the fuck does that? Why is he so bad at reading this situation? ]
That's not it, you goddamn pervert—
[ With the struggle it's hard to pay attention to their surroundings, the fact that they're in the outskirts lost on Eren as he tries to keep Jean from leaving. Also, the fact that he's half-hard. That... makes things difficult too.
So when their legs tangle up, it sends them crashing shoulders-first into the grass, their combined weight sending them tumbling right over the hillside they were walking over to begin with. ] Shit—!
no subject
That's how they land, actually. With Jean beneath Eren, one hand wrapped around his back and clawing while the other pushes at his face. With a blush of embarrassment, he releases the one around his back and has it quickly join in on the pushing.]
W-What the fuck is your problem?! Get off me!
no subject
Knock it off! I just... we should talk!
[ Even listening to himself it sounds dumb as hell, and he winces a little. And Jean is struggling too much, pushing him back— and despite his best efforts, he ends up on the other teen's lap and he takes in a sharp inale, hands gripping his arms until his knuckles go white. ]
And stop— moving so much!
no subject
[Hands pinned above his head, Eren straddling his waist, the boner basically in his face (an exagerration). Yeah. This position's really meant for conversation.]
Get off of me!
[He's not stopping his movements. Not at first. Writhing and struggling, bucking his hips and wriggling underneath seems like a good idea at first but his enthusiasm for it soon fades when the friction starts to get to him. Mysteriously, he calms down, face paling and reddening at the same time.]
no subject
Because this is Jean. They've wrestled and fought plenty of times before and it's safe to say this has never been an issue. He shouts again, except now his voice is on the verge of cracking. ]
Stop. Moving!
[ And then. They both basically grew up the last several years around other teenage boys— he's used to guys sneaking out to try and peak on the girls or jerk off in their bunks or whatever. He didn't care, because none of it was important; he had (extremely violent) goals to keep in mind, and romance didn't factor in.
But it's. Difficult to ignore what's going on right this instant, how the boy he'd considered his rival suddenly feels underneath him. He stares down at Jean, his hands going limp with a slight tremble and a slight redness hitting his cheeks in record time. ]
Are you... [ he swallows, refusing to look away. ] Are you serious?
1/??
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–I
[Oh no, he's blushing harder. The embarrassment is kicking in and it is not helping his image right now.]
done
Don't fucking look at me like that!
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But he's not very good at leaving anything alone; he snaps awake, shoving Jean back down roughly, hands curled into his collar as he stumbles over his words. ]
What the fuck!? Why are you— [ he tries to glare, but it falls flat into horrified, accusatory staring again ] You started this!
no subject
[He hits the ground again and practically gawks up at Eren.]
Why the hell did you push me back down?!
[IT'S LIKE YOU WANT THIS OR SOMETHING oh my god get off his lap]
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He looks off, then back, then away again, trying to sort out his thoughts (which is difficult due to Circumstances but). And eventually, Eren does what Eren does best which is to just barrel down the path of least resistance and blurt out the first thing on his mind.
Nevermind the fact that he sounds marginally more tentative than he's used to, which is kind of infuriating of its own right. ]
Do you want me to go?
no subject
Are you kidding?
[He frowns.] I'm not fighting my way back alone.
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So he leans forward a bit, faces close and a hand bracing against Jean's arm less forcibly than before. ]
That's not what I mean, you dense piece of shit.
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Wait.
Jean turns his face to he side, casting a wary glance.]
A couple minutes ago you were screaming at me.
[And now? What? He wanted to literally kiss and make up?]
If you've got a fever it better not be contagious.
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Eren still doesn't move, maybe out of pure spite and stubbornness. But given the fact that he speaks up, it's probably neither. ]
I'm upset, not sick. [ Not past tense. His best friend was dead and it was his fault— not just his fault, but that didn't change the truth of things. And it'd worn him down more than anything else he'd gone through in Zelien. More than death and torture or whatever the hell else. After several more seconds of silence and mulling, he admits, voice hoarse: ] I was trying to start a fight. Tired of dealing with it by myself.
[ He doesn't draw away, bangs falling over his eyes as he stares Jean down, something heavy in the way his head hangs lower. ] Happy?
no subject
Why the hell would I be happy about that, asshole?
[It's grumbled and quiet.] Just what type of guy do you think I am?
[They're on the same page, in the end. The only difference is Eren tries to change it, fight against it. And him? Jean's brows crease upwards. Cowardice took time to die out, didn't it?]
I miss him too.
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[ Which is weird, because for the longest time he'd thought Jean was a lazy, inconsiderate asshole with a head full of air and avarice. A loudmouthed braggart who he'd never see again past their official enlistment. But here they are, mourning over the same friends, fighting the same battles, and it's clear that at least one of them's grown up and Eren's not sure it's himself.
And he may be marginally less prone to foot-in-mouth syndrome, but he's the more impulsive of the two, and he knows he's in the wrong. So he draws his hands under the other teen's jaw, nudging his face forward and meeting eyes again. Despite how horrifically, undeniably awkward the situation was, he manages to sound sincere. ]
Sorry. For goading you.
[ For a lot of things, really. ]
no subject
[There's no need to apologize and it feels weird thinking that. Their past has been tied together with aggravation and exasperation yet nothing felt wrong. They were comrades. Frustration was part of the job description, wasn't it?
A silence stretches between them now and despite the clear awkwardness of the situation, Jean feels calm. They're on the same plane, just moving different ways. It was how it had always been. The one part of this whole universe that was, really. There's a comfort there that makes Jean move a hand, tentative and slow, around the back of Eren's neck.]
Hey. I know I'm not that good at this stuff but. Uh.
[He doesn't think about it, just bringing Eren down against his shoulder and taking a deep breath.] I'm sorry. That I wasn't there to protect him.
seventypercentethanol, the thread
Reality was hard, and slowing down to accept it was unbearable. But now they have a novelty that was never afforded to them back home, because there was actually time to revel in emotions, sometimes: to find comfort in someone else's presence for a day and get through it together.
Absently, he thinks it's... nice.
He gets pulled down and his muscles tense automatically, nearly shoving himself away in surprise, hands braced against Jean's chest. But he lands against his shoulder and there's nothing antagonistic about it, and he's a bundle of nerves for a few seconds longer as they just... hug. And breathe, in tandem. Eventually he adjusts his arms, sliding them underneath Jean and clutching to his back, returning the gesture fervently as he digs his face into his collar, voice muffled: ]
I wasn't either.
it's like we're playing out one of her comics
It's not unwelcome. Even if it makes his chest grow tight and his throat clog in nervousness or fear or some other emotion he can't quite pinpoint. It's nice besides that.
With a nervous laugh he speaks:]
Looks like he outsmarted us.
[It's broken halfway through, tinged with too much leftover regret to be light-hearted. It weighs on him–makes his brow crease in support and his frown tremble. He grips Eren tighter to stop it, one hand slowly reaching up to the back of his head and cupping it gently.
He stays like that for several minutes, silent and staring up at the sky. It's hard to believe in souls and life after death, but he can see the appeal now. The sky is so vast and accommodating it's hard to look up and not feel hope.]
Where do you think he went?
[It's a stupid question and he knows. But being trapped in the ground or turning to dust is too harsh an end right now–too mundane and lackluster. Grandeur, for once, is more comforting.]
i'm okay with this
wow that didn't last long
(no subject)
no homo
pretty...sure this is homo........
no it's not because i said no homo also look it's not sad anymore
oh good, back to awkward teenage central
this thread is about as moody as a teenager
seems appropriate
kermit nods
god they're so fucking embarrassing