Jean Kirstein (HORSEY GALORE) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bravelypees) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
compyuutah2013-11-25 05:29 am
bravelypees) wrote in compyuutah2013-11-25 05:29 am
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
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/??
no subject
–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!
no subject
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]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
[ 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
But he ruins it by opening his mouth again. Idiot. The question goes unanswered for a second. ]
I—
[ I don't know.
The words die in his throat, and he goes into an awkward silence, because Eren's learned that sometimes he can't afford to be honest. And sometimes, he didn't want to be— what he wanted was the best from the world.
And that meant being a little delusional.
So he lifts his head to look him in the eye, then presses his forehead to Jean's, hands wrapping into his shirt until his fingers hurt and his knuckles go bone-white, tone raw. ]
I think he went home.
wow that didn't last long
Was home supposed to be a joke? What good would it do him? Bring him back to life only to kill him again but at a later date?
Would he really stand a chance without the rest of them? Or would he die again, where none of them could see?
Jean's breathing settles, his head tipped back and watching the stars. Odd, how something that had never mattered to him suddenly became significant. A comforitng presence he couldn't turn down.]
Hey, Eren.
[What if the stars were all the tears–small worlds and pockets of what could or was? Maybe, somewhere up in that vast sky, they were all safe. Couldn't that be a possibility?
His heart aches and he knows the answer but he asks anyway.] Do you think we're there with him? Other versions of us or something.
no subject
His lips quirk, just barely. No. No, that really wasn't comforting at all.
Rather than watching the stars, he keeps his eyes on Jean, an impending sense of dread as he waits for him to speak. Because he will say something, and it'll cut deep, because he's good at that now. He's a loudmouth who can't filter his thoughts and when the question hits the air Eren winces. ]
Jean.
[ They were both slipping. Even he could see that. It's too much because of their proximity, that they've forgotten to be awkward despite how they're touching and now they're blurting out their thoughts, fears, hopes— the fact that they're both feeling and thinking too much.
So he trails his hands up, threading his fingers into the other boy's hair. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry, before he pulls Jean up so they're both sitting up, tilting his head forward. No more staring off, no more thinking about what skies the people back home were zipping through and whether or not there were Titans beneath them, whether there was a world where they didn't have to die. Thoughts that plague Eren constantly, and ones he didn't wish on anyone else.
He tilts his head up, pressing his mouth firmly against Jean's to shut him up. Or maybe to distract himself (not for long, it's his responsibility to care, but it's something). Or maybe it's purely physical. He doesn't know anymore. Whatever the case, Eren barely pulls away, voice thick and unsteady. ]
Stop.
no homo
He needs this. A distraction, physical or emotional. Something else to focus on: the movement of their tongues, the soft hitches of breath, the hand curling into the back of his hair–painful but not enough for him to notice. Or stop. Something within him is disappointed when Eren does.]
Wh-
[When the kiss breaks, his confusion grows. He can feel his brows rising, feel his tongue trip over itself in an attempt to gain an explanation. Beseechingly, he searches Eren's eyes instead, trying to find the answer there but to no avail. It's useless. He should just give up.
So he does.
Leans forward again and restarts the kiss, gentle and slow with one hand cupping the side of his face. It's tender–probably too much so–but he doesn't care. They're alone and lost at the same time. If this is the only thing that will help them back on track, he'll take it. At least it grounds them to something.]
pretty...sure this is homo........
But then Jean closes the gap between them and it's startlingly intimate, so much so that Eren's breath catches, brows knit, and he's not sure how to react because he's about as delicate as a bull in a china shop. It's much too gentle for them to just be letting off steam in the way he expects.
And, most frighteningly, he's all right with that.
It takes all his self-control not to shove or draw blood, leaning his cheek into the touch as he lets Jean work their mouths together, tongue skirting out to taste his lips and part their mouths and feel their warm, mismatched breaths collide because the two of them have never matched rhythms. And he trails his hands down to his neck, spreading his fingers to take in the mild roughness of his skin, reveling in the fact that despite how much is gone they're both still here and they're both alive and for once, how amazingly tangible that is.
Not that all his honest emotion makes him any better at this. He slides his hands eventually, crossing his arms behind Jean's head and pulling him deeper into the kiss, teeth knocking together uncomfortably as he hisses a muffled 'ow' against his mouth. ]
no it's not because i said no homo also look it's not sad anymore
Haven't you ever kissed someone before?
[Not that he has, either. It's all guesswork and fumbling about but it seems right. Minus Eren's fuck-ups (Jean's doing it too, just won't admit it).] You're not supposed to slam your face against mine.
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