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.
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
He fiddles with the belt strapped across Jean's chest, lips twisting into an uncertain slant. Well, if there was room to improve... he eventually grumbles: ]
How the hell am I supposed to do it, then?
[ Cue expectant staring. If Jean was apparently so good at this, he could demonstrate. ]
this thread is about as moody as a teenager
[No. In fact, he's kind of hoping Eren would know the answer to that question and worries when he doesn't.] Isn't it... [Shit, his voice sounds too nervous. He clears his throat and leans forward again.] ... Shouldn't it be something like this?
[It was supposed to be a smooth tilt into a kiss but he misses, his nose fighting Eren's instead. Muttering a curse, he tries back and starts again only for his teeth to catch on Eren's lip. Again, he pulls back, blushing in embarrassment.] I-It's something better, alright?
seems appropriate
Ow— Jean, you... [ He narrows his eyes, immediately leaning forward to nip his bottom lip in retaliation, very much on purpose. ] Admit it. You suck just as bad.
[ There's an awkward pause where he hovers around his mouth some more, still unsure of how to... actually do this successfully. But he's also impatient as hell, and all this indecision is wearing on him. So he leans in again, this time shifting his weight further into Jean's lap— their hips proceed to knock into each other, and Eren completely misses his mark in surprise, lips sort of colliding into the other teen's face as he exhales harshly. After a second he adjusts to press his cheek to Jean's to hide his own blush, moving again so they weren't... so pressed together anymore as he chokes out, suave as all hell: ] Uh. Sorry.
kermit nods
D-don't be.
[His own cheeks are burning up but it's a small sacrifice knowing that Eren can feel it. Two breaths and a swallow of trepidation before he uses his grip to pull him forward, mimicking the push Eren had accidentally done.
Bingo. Another breath pushes out.]
god they're so fucking embarrassing
[ It's a dumb question, because he already knows, and when they grind against each other he feels their chests heave and a heat swell in his gut— he groans softly (by Eren's standards, anyway) before he can stop himself, a hand tangling its way into Jean's hair again as he plants a distracted kiss on his ear. And he presses forward, rocking into it as he tugs the other teen's shirt up to slide a hand against his side, demanding in that indignant, stubborn way Eren can get after they pass a few quiet breaths back and forth— ] Keep going.