Chapter Text
The day of the funeral dawned grey and gloomy as Armin brushed his hair, checking his suit patiently in the mirror. He had one class that morning, then he would meet the others there, but his only concern was for Jean.
Maybe I should have gone out there. He but his bottom lip. Were my classes really more important? Or was he avoiding Jean? Trying to keep from causing him more pain and suffering by being a constant reminder of what had happened that night.
Maybe I shouldn't go. But regret filled his heart at the mere thought of leaving Jean to suffer without even saying a word, without paying his respects to a good friend that cared so desperately for both of them.
So he skipped his class and stepped into his car; it was time he faced this problem and dealt with it.
---
"Yes thank you," Jean accepted consolation from friends and family gracefully but his eyes were dark and lifeless. He felt like he was walking in a dream; all he wanted to do was talk to Marco about everything... Or talk to Armin at least.
Armin. He hadn't called in three days, he'd only received a few texts in all that time as well and short ones at that. Have I hurt him? Maybe we should have talked about that night? Then the anger started in his chest. Well what the hell do I have to apologize for? What does he want from me? He fucks me and then vanishes to Massachusetts and never even calls? I was mourning and I needed someone and guess who wasn't there Marco? He just ran as fast as he could without a second thought to me.
His anger was irrational, painful in a whole new way. All he'd wanted all week was for Armin to be there; to have some stability in his life... Someone who had been there for Marco's last days and understood the pain of his final hours. “Where’s Armin?" Jean asked a little critically as Eren arrived, accepting his hug and then Mikasa's.
"He's coming, he had class remember?" Mikasa asked softly. "I think he's left by now, though."
"Is he really?" Jean could see the look Eren gave him and felt anger well in his chest again. "Damnit Jaeger what is your problem?"
"I--" it was so familiar Eren was taken aback, the aggression and pain in Jean's eyes. It had been there before, somewhere deep in his dreams. "I'm sorry."
Jean's rage subsided slightly and he sighed, running his tired fingers through his hair. Eren's reassuring grip on his shoulder and the gentle rub of his thumb on his collarbone made him feel better, though and he leaned into the touch. "God damnit... How did this happen again?" He murmured.
For the first time Jean could talk about his experiences. There was someone here other than Marco who knew of his dreams, who knew what he saw with such intimate detail... Someone who could understand his mourning in a deeper way than just a simple loss of love.
This was more complicated, tied into all the lost he'd had before... The loss of Marco the first time was hard enough. Or maybe it wasn't the first? Maybe there were infinite numbers of worlds and universes; Jeans and Marcos that would never meet or maybe they'd live happily ever after or maybe Jean was the one to leave Marco behind... But those universes weren't this one, and were of no comfort as his shoulders trembled.
"There are no more titans," Eren murmured. "But you lost him again anyway."
"The world is cruel," Mikasa added and Jean lifted his head. Such a familiar phrase.
"I suppose you're right," he sighed heavily when Eren released his grip.
"It's going to take time," Mikasa said softly. But Jean wasn't listening, he was looking over her head at someone that had just walked in.
"Armin..." Jean moved towards him, torn between relief and fury. He had shown up at least. But that meant he was there and that he's only come for Marco. He's just doing all this because Marco made him. He was about to catch his attention when Marco's high school friends detained him to reminisce.
---
Armin spotted him as he walked in, talking softly to Eren and Mikasa. Somehow his nerve had failed on the drive; the thought of confronting him and telling him that maybe this wasn't a good idea had faltered and he was left watching the sadness drawn into the line of Jean's shoulders.
When he made eye contact with him Armin felt something stir in his belly, there was hurt in his golden eyes… but curiosity above all things. Have I hurt him? When he was waylaid Armin breathed a sigh of relief; another moment of peace before he’d have to talk about it.
Why am I avoiding it? He thought it might be because it would hurt too bad to hear him say those words. To hear him tell him that nothing was real and it was just a moment of weakness… to tell him what Armin knew to be the truth: dreams only last for a night. Dreams and nightmares and memories were nothing compared to the real thing; the real feeling of love and whatever remnants had transferred to Armin from his past life… they meant nothing.
The service was hard, perhaps harder than Armin had thought it would be, but he was glad that Jean hadn’t been given the chance to hunt him down. Maybe I’m being selfish. It would be better for his conscience to tell me… wouldn’t it? He sat through it, taking Eren’s hand when he sniffled.
“Are you okay?” He asked at barely a whisper and Eren offered a quivering smile through his tears. This has been hard for Eren too… I’ve been so selfish. Armin’s lip quivered and he squeezed Eren’s hand tighter. I’ve just been worried about me and my own problems but not considering everybody else… He furrowed his brows.
When the procession ended Armin rose, face hot with shame, and retreated for the back of the chapel. “Armin!” He heard Eren’s voice but all he wanted to do was leave. He didn’t want to cause a scene, to start something he couldn’t stop, to find himself the center of attention at a gathering for the people who cared for his friend.
“Armin!” Eren caught his arm and jerked him around in the hallway. “Where are you going?”
“You know what Eren sometimes people don’t have to tell you everything they’re doing!” Armin snapped back, tension tight in his shoulders. “Why can’t you just leave people alone, Eren?”
“What?” He looked taken aback, tears drying on his cheeks.
“Why can’t you just leave people alone! If you weren’t such a meddling asshole! If you could just fucking leave people alone! If you could just forget about all this shit I’d--” He broke and caught the front of Eren’s suit jacket. “I could have just been okay being alone, Eren!” His voice raised just slightly as he dragged him down a hallway. “Never meeting Jean and never meeting Marco and never being in this fucking situation! But you couldn’t just leave well enough alone!” Tears spilled out of his eyes.
“Armin…”
“No Eren! Shut the hell up!” His throat burned around the words. “Just… just for once shut the hell up because you’ve caused us all enough fucking trouble!” He knew Jean was watching, could see him standing in the mouth of the hallway with a dark look in his eyes. “I’m going home, Eren… just think about all this and what you’ve done to a bunch of people that were fine without knowing each other,” he let Eren go and turned, walking out the door.
Jean watched him leave, glancing at the destroyed look on Eren’s face, then turned to follow him. Maybe Armin’s right. Maybe Eren shouldn’t have introduced us. He pulled his suit jacket off and loosened his tie as he caught Armin’s shoulder and shoved him up against the door of his car. So many people had left now, gone to follow the procession to the graveyard, the silence of the car lot made the sound of Armin’s heartbeat louder in his ears as he searched his eyes.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” his voice was steady as Armin sucked in air.
“I thought it was best,” those beautiful blue eyes cast aside; liquid and despondent.
“You didn’t call, you just left me there with my family.”
“Well I thought you’d…”
“What? Regret it? You think I’d…” his voice faltered. “You think for one fucking second I wasn’t aware of what was happening?”
“It’s okay, Jean, I was a comfort and that’s okay just… it was a mistake. I just thought I’d give you your distance, you know?”
“Mistake?!” His voice was incredulous as he slammed his hand on the roof of the car, Armin flinching at his aggression. “You think you’re a god damned mistake?”
“Jean it’s foolish to… do anything right now! You just lost Marco! You’re hurt and angry! Please don’t start this just mourn!”
“God damn it Armin don’t you think I’m an adult? I’m not some 15 year old kid again! This wasn’t some fucking shock. I didn’t stumble upon his body in an ash covered street! I didn’t wake up the next day to a cold bed and an aching heart… I had you.”
Armin couldn’t keep his sob down, covering his face.
“And yeah! You’re not what I wanted at that moment; I wanted to wake up to Marco’s face and see him there beside me again… I wanted to think that he wasn’t gone but damn it Armin! If you think for a second that anything that happened between us meant nothing…” When Armin finally hazarded a look he found hurt and anger in bullion eyes that threatened to melt his heart. “Back then…”
“God! Stop sounding like Eren! You’re both the same, you always have been! You attribute too much to what happened in the past; to a god damned dream… to--” He was kissing him all too suddenly, mouth slotting against Armin’s in a desperate attempt to shut him up.
Armin found himself wrapping his arms around him, warm in the chill of October, kissing back with a fury. It felt so natural to be here. To be with him. Even if it filled him with sadness and regret. Even if the pressure of Jean’s hips against his and the heat spilling into his belly as Jean laid open mouthed kisses against his throat were intoxicating… they made his heart ache.
If only he’d listened to Marco.
He couldn’t remember when they’d ended up in the car, pressed for space as he straddled Jean’s waist and kissed him so desperately the cold of the car was quickly washed away.
Jean’s fingers fumbled with the fastens of his pants, jerking them down his hips and stroking his half hard cock to attention as Armin groaned, barely able to unbutton Jean’s dress shirt. He had some concerns about this entire situation, most importantly-- he groaned aloud as Armin caught his hand and slid his fingers into his mouth. So that answers that question. His tongue flicked between his fingers, coating them thick with saliva as Jean’s hand stuttered in its ministrations.
He arched up when Armin reached to tug his slacks down, giving a laugh when Armin cursed. “There’s no room I’m sorry,” Armin nearly giggled, gasping when Jean’s fingers stroked along the cleft of his ass. He let out a soft laugh at just how ridiculous they must look, how ridiculous they must seem, so desperate to think about literally anything else but their current predicament.
“I like it when you laugh,” Jean murmured. The depth of his voice, the rumble in his chest, the finger working its way carefully into him… all of them sent jolts of delight through his limbs but the happiness that bubble up in his chest was enough to make him laugh again.
Laughing at a funeral.
Well he’d finally crossed everything off his bucket list.
The heady rush of marking a rhythm for the first time in this cramped space; the sounds of their breathless groans and giddy laughter. It was a strange kind of intimacy; a comfortable one that felt so natural it was easier to be together than to breathe. It was all Jean could do to keep his eyes open and watch the man above him; to lose himself in the sight of Armin rutting desperately against each thrust of his hips with his long blonde hair clinging to his open mouth as he came.
He was the most beautiful thing Jean had ever seen.
---
“You have to go to the burial,” Armin said softly as Jean fastened his shirt again, cleaning up haphazardly with an old shirt Armin had left in the back seat.
“Please don’t leave again,” Jean murmured and watched a smile pass across Armin’s features.
“Jean…”
“No Armin. I can’t do this again. I don’t want to spent the next three days wondering what happened between us…” He caught his hand in his hair. “I know I’m broken right now… but I can’t be without you.” Their lips met chastely and Armin’s heart ached.
“If you really want this, if you want to be with me Jean I want to know it’s you that wants me. I want to know that you’re not just doing this because of Marco or because of some stupid dream because… I’m not dream Armin and you’re not dream Jean and we can’t be together based on that fact.”
“I’ll chase you down, Armin.”
“This isn’t a movie. You can’t just come running through the snow yelling my name with a dozen roses,” Armin placed his hand on his chest. “Jean take some time to yourself, please, I can’t do this to either of us. Just mourn and… I want this to be right between us.” His heart ached; if he turned him down enough what if he lost his chance.
“Okay,” that word broke his heart.
---
Armin was nearly two hours into his drive, thinking a little too hard, when he realized he’d left Eren behind at the funeral home. Shit. He dialed his number, waiting patiently for him to pick up. C’mon Eren I’m sorry! He dialed again but was met with Eren’s cheerful voice saying: ‘Hi this is Eren! Leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon!’
Mikasa. He’d call her instead. She was more responsible than Eren by a long shot.
“Armin? I didn’t see you when we left is everything okay?” Her voice sounded worried as soon as she answered.
“Yeah I’m fine I didn’t mean to worry you… are you home?”
“Yes I was just going to check on Eren… he wasn’t very happy earlier and I’m kind of worried about him,” he could hear her walking up the stairs.
“Aren’t they ever going to finish working on that elevator; Eren needs to move.”
“Did you talk to Jean?” The silence on the other end of the line was enough for Mikasa he was sure. “Eren?” He heard her push his door opened.
“I’ve told him to lock the damned door… that Levi guy gives me the creeps sometimes. Check inside he might be sleeping.”
“No he’s not here, Armin,” she walked over and knocked on Levi’s door.
“Oh… so you’re Levi,” Mikasa’s voice sounded disapproving. “Have you seen Eren?” Armin bit his bottom lip, nervous still about this man.
“He’s in here resting,” Levi’s suave voice came over the line and Armin wanted to roll his eyes. I wonder if he puts that voice on or if it’s really what he sounds like.
“Hey, sis,” Eren said sheepishly and Armin frowned at the shadows flickering across his steering wheel, “Is that Armin on the phone?”
“What are you doing over here?”
“I wasn’t feeling well.”
“If you’re sure. I’ve found him, Armin,” she told him.
“Okay… I’ll be there in a bit keep him occupied I just… I’ll pick up some beer on the way I promise,” he couldn’t hear the tail end of what Eren was saying but he heard Levi’s voice reverberate around the empty landing. I guess at least he’s okay.
---
Armin braced himself outside the door, thinking back to that afternoon and almost regretting the thought. He won’t come for me. He knocked on Eren’s door, not surprised when the door swung on in its hinges.
“God damn it Eren why don’t you ever lock your door?” Armin scolded as a controller clattered to the ground and his friend wrapped him up in his arms. He could see Mikasa standing up with a reassuring smile on her face and a warmth spilled into him. He was home again; a safe place where there was no question of his standing or his meaning. Where he didn’t have to worry that he was just a replacement for someone, that he was simply a fragment of a distant memory of love.
Everything was normal again, without ever having to say a word. He nuzzled his face into his friend’s neck and hugged him back tightly. “Did you bring the beer?” Eren said against his ear and Armin laughed aloud at the tickling feeling.
The best part of being home, of being in the warmth of Eren’s pajama pants and Eren’s shirt was that everything felt familiar. But somehow the scent of his best friend wasn’t quite the same as the scent that had clung to the shirt he’d been wearing to death since he’d brought it home.
“Are you okay?” Mikasa asked and Armin sighed.
“Yes of course, I’m sorry…” He drew his eyes away from the window. “Where were we?” He snuggled under the blankets between them, smiling faintly. I can’t worry about that now…
So when he was swept away with the joy of the moment; following his best friends down the stairs, the last thing he expected was this.
“Hey,” a familiar voice said. There he was. Standing in the foyer with ice in his hair and snow dripping down his suit pants. There he was with a bouquet of red roses thick with sleet.
It made his heart stop.
“Jean…” He brushed past Mikasa and Eren, tears burning his eyes in the cold breeze from the front door. “Jean.” He said again as he wrapped his arms around him, letting him tighten his grip around his waist and bury his cold face against his neck.
“I told you I’d chase you.”