#i would love armin's little hiking streams

[happybird16]

Levi streaming himself while cleaning 😂

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[foulcrownkryptonite]

Tracing Constellations, pt.2

The moment you’ve all been waiting for

Chapter Two: A Clarity

By the early evening, they had made it. Their journey was long and rough, leaving their muscles aching and in desperate need of rest. Ahead was a rather large shack nearly hidden by the towering elms all around it. Jean wasn’t really well versed in architecture, but he remembered one of Armin’s late night ramblings about an ancient style of housing that the cabin-like building resembled. It was a nice, homey looking place. Though it seemed long abandoned with ivy spreading up the walls and leaves camouflaging the roof and scattering the ground. To the east came a loud shushing sound, easily identifiable as a clogged up creek. Bingo.

“Yeah, tell me about it. We’re definitely going to have to stay the night here.” Marco chimed, trying to conceal the excitement that the sentiment brought.

They set the rest of their stuff by the rock-lined fire pit before making their way to the waterside. Water was building up rapidly, overflowing to the sides. Blocking it’s path was a massive oak tree, water only barely trickling over the top.

“Oh shit,” Jean began, rolling up his trousers and stepping in for a closer inspection.

Marco followed suit, yards of thick rope in his grasp. “Luckily it’s fairly hollow.” he called from behind Jean over the sound of water forcibly hitting the log. “The tree itself won’t be too heavy, it’s just stuck. Look there,” he gestured to the base of the tree trapped in the thick walls of the compacted mud. “It’s just trapped. If we attach rope to either side and pull at an angle, perhaps we can free it and get it to the surface.” he concluded with a small, self-satisfied smile, clearly proud of his little assessment. Marco always seemed to take joy in the simplest things, and Jean would be lying if he said it wasn’t endearing.

Jean smiled devilishly. “Well done my brilliant friend. Let’s get this started.” Marco gave a dramatic salute before getting to work, tying the rope tightly to one end of the tree. Jean took a nearby stick to dig at the tough mud, aiming to loosen its grip on the tree. Marco noticed and began to do the same. Soon enough, they felt a thudded movement of the tree as water poured in from the sides.

“It’s coming loose!” Marco leapt. “Jean, I’ll drag the rope up my end, you meet me with your end, ok?”

Jean lifted the rope. “Ok, aye aye captain!” he yelped.

With just enough force from Marco’s end and Jean coming to meet him on the same edge of the creek, the water ferociously gushed in, releasing all the built up tension behind the log.

“Alright ready to flip it?!” Jean called out over the rushing water, and was met with a swift, “Yep, heave!” With one last bout of labor, they had gotten the bulky tree over the edge of the water, the makeshift dam no longer able to wreak havoc on their water supply.

And with that, Jean dramatically flung himself into the semi shallow water, the flowing tide steadying to a more constant trickle as it evened out. Marco starred in bafflement before howling with a poorly contained laughter.

“Jean! What on earth are you doing!” he cried between laughs. Jean had that devilish grin on his face again, and Marco knew exactly what was coming - he was next. “Jean, Jean no. Splash me and I will have no choice but to go in and defeat you myself.” he pleaded, threatened, warned, but despite his desperate cries and admonishing face, Jean got closer, arms in position to fire water directly at him.

“I’d like to see you try.” he said menacingly, before pushing a massive wave of water to the surface, full on drenching Marco on the spot.

Oh. This was war.

Marco hurdled into the deepest part of the creek, a battle cry leaving his lips as he shoved a tall wall of water onto the other. Managing to side step his first attack, Jean beamed as his eyebrows furrowed, face contorting to that of a jester.

“Jean, oh my God.” he chuckled, a standoff between the two men putting them at a pause. Jean bent low in the water, soaking his chest.

“Well? Gonna come and get me?” he taunted, smirking his most devilish smile. Marco eagerly leapt at him, arms wrapping around the bulkier man in a wrestle. The two danced in and out of the embrace with Jean finally gaining the upper hand, slamming Marco backwards into the water. Marco let out a small cry, soon to be muffled by the incoming water enveloping the pair.

The two quickly resurfaced, Jean looking more than pleased with his second consecutive win, and Marco coughing and hacking up stream water.

“Oh shit. Marco, I'm sorry, are you ok?”

“I'm-” Marco proceeded to nearly cough up an entire lung, obviously not having been prepared to be body-slammed mercilessly into a deepish body of water.

Jean sloshed his way over to his choking friend patting him on the back hard as if that would somehow help the situation.

“Jea-” cough “It’s fin-” couch “Just sto-”

“It’s not fine, I almost drowned you! Here um I know the Heimlich maneuver!” Jean said in a panic, rushing to stand behind Marco. Of course the Heimlich maneuver wouldn’t do a damned thing to help, but Jean didn’t need to know that, as for Marco’s master plan to work he needed to lull the other into his trap. Now directly behind him, Jean couldn’t see the absolutely devious grin on Marco’s face.

Jean hurriedly wrapped his arms around the other’s torso and before he could start the first compression Marco turned to face him at the speed of light. Confused and a bit startled, Jean froze in place, finally realizing the deep shit he was in once he saw Marco’s lopsided and evil grin.

Fuck. He was tricked. That cheeky little bastard.

“Wait, Marco-”

Before Jean could plead for his life, Marco's hands were already steadfast onto each of his shoulders.

“Now, accept your defeat!” Marco dramatically yelled as he forcefully dunked a yelping Jean under the rushing current. He let out a downright maniacal laugh, still reaching Jean’s ears over the rumbling sound of being dunked into the water.

He grabbed blindly in Marco’s direction, finding what felt to be his shirt and hoisting himself up with a gasp. The quick movement and general unsteadiness of the creek caused him to lose his balance, Marco catching him by the waist before he capsized again. Marco looked at Jean with a satisfied grin, and Jean could only sigh exasperatedly after finally catching his breath.

“Why do people think you're the nice one?”

“What? You started it. All I did was finish it.”

“You’re a demon.”

“Only for you~”

Jean promptly shook the remaining water from his hair, making damn sure it got on the smirking devil in front of him. Marco chuckled at his petty revenge, turning his head to avoid most of the incoming droplets, though not retreating his arms holding Jean upright.

Their impulsive little duel in the water had them both utterly soaked, Marco’s white shirt practically useless as it clung tight and sheer on his body. Of course, Jean had seen his bare arms and chest before but never this close up. Never with said arms still wrapped around his damn waist. They were really no further than a foot away from each other and Jean felt his face heating up as he looked everywhere but Marco’s face. His sun kissed shoulders were speckled with freckles that matched his cheeks and it made Jean want to know just how much of Marco was covered with them.

Whoa.

What?

Back the fuck up.

He did not just think about Marco’s naked body while being held this close in his arms and shit shit shit abort mission. NOW.

Jean rather abruptly shook himself out of Marco’s gentle hold, looking absolutely everywhere but at the man himself. His face was probably bright red with the embarrassing amount of heat radiating off it. He could practically feel the questioning look on Marco’s face but Jean was absolutely not going to let him voice it.

“Hey, you hungry? Let’s uh... get dressed and get some grub, shall we?”

Though it was technically a question, Jean didn’t wait for an answer. He was up and out of the water before Marco could so much as say “polo”.

Jean didn’t walk towards the shed so much as run to it.

The embarrassment and guilt ate at his psyche and all Jean could do to stop it was just pretend it wasn’t there. He wasn’t going to make things awkward for the rest of the night because he was… Imaging his best friend naked? In a not so dude-bro way? No. No, he hadn’t assured that yet. He was only thinking about his friend’s freckles… And there was nothing inherently inappropriate about that. Right. Jean was fine. Marco was fine. Everything was fine.

He decided to go with that explanation for now.

Jean dressed in the shed first, putting on what sort of resembled sleepwear before hanging his soaked clothes to dry over a tree limb. Marco did so next, coming out of the shed dressed in plain brown pants and a thick white tunic that hung low, exposing a part of his dotted chest. Jean tried not to notice, really, he did, but it was hard. For some inexplicable reason, he was drawn to it.

Seeing the sun begin to set, Marco took initiative and got a head start on a fire in the pit yards away from the shed. Jean dug through the bags to grab food, sheepishly bringing it over to Marco at the fire pit.

“It’s uh just wrapped rations, nothing special.” Jean explained, handing the sitting man a packet.

“Thanks Je-” Marco began before a scream escaped Jean’s lips,

“But I snuck BOOOOOOZE!” he exclaimed, holding out a bottle of hard liquor. Marco’s mouth flew open.

“You sneaky bastard!” Marco teased, causing Jean to stick his tongue out playfully.

“I know, you love it” Jean said, sitting cross legged not but a palms length away from Marco.

The sun quickly fell behind the mountainside, leaving a distant dim glow as the crackling fire took its place as the center source of light. The smell of wood burning and the trickling sound of fresh water reminded Jean of how much he missed simply just enjoying the outdoors.

“Yknow,” Marco began as Jean opened the bottle and took a swig. “I’ve never been camping before.” Jean raised his eyebrows in disbelief, handing him the bottle.

“This is news to me, you sure know how to navigate in the wilderness!” Marco chuckled, taking a swig.

“Guess you can teach me a thing or two more,” he winked. Jean stirred, his hands finding stability only when the bottle was passed back to him. Jeez Marco had no right looking so-

“Well then, a toast!” he exclaimed perhaps a bit too loudly.

Marco looked at him quizzically. “Hah, to what?” Us he wanted to say, almost feeling the word slip off his tongue before correcting it.

“To Marco’s first night outdoors!” He held the bottle up in triumph, taking a large swig before handing it back to Marco, who did the same. They laughed heartily at the sentiment before settling to let the booze make its effect on their minds and bodies.

The moon’s soft white luster shone down onto the pair, reflecting off the fracturing water of the now ever-flowing stream. Broken images of adjacent trees appeared as inky veins dancing upon the water’s surface, nearly as mesmerizing of a sight as were the blinking flames in front of them. For a short while, there was a tranquil sort of silence. The soft sounds of a forested night; a lullaby, as Jean and Marco simply sat there, existing together under the dull shine of the stars.

The crackling heat of the fire provided ample warmth and light, allowing Jean an inviting gaze toward his companion's calmed face, eyelids shut softly as he enjoyed the slight chilly breeze. Jean let his eyes scan down the expanse of Marco’s figure, stopping at his toned, freckle-peppered arms. For reasons he could not decipher, Marco’s freckles enveloped his mind. Unbeknownst to Jean, he reached out to touch them, tracing shapes and constellations into the dots adorning Marco’s arm.

Marco startled a bit at the sudden touch, though upon seeing Jean’s peaceful, zoned out state, made no turn to move. His heart stammered in his chest, the light tracing of Jean's thumb on his arm spreading chills throughout his entire body. His mind abandoned any rational thought as he watched, rather felt Jean’s pointer finger and thumb gingerly dance across his skin. It was such a gentle gesture, one Marco hadn’t seen Jean ever perform. As his feather-light touch ran ever so slightly higher, Marco couldn’t hold back a twitch, halting Jean in his place. What on earth was he doing? Jean yanked his hand back close to his chest and averted his gaze back to the trees, the creek, the shack, hell anything but Marco.

“Uh, sorry,” he mumbled under his breath, just barely audible over the steady whooshing of running water. For the second time that night Jean’s face felt hotter than hell itself.

“It’s okay,” Marco whispered back, looking over at his now abashed friend. “I… don’t mind.” he finished and Jean glanced up, dilated eyes looking up through his lashes, not knowing what that response meant.

“Listen, Jean, I-” Marco began, liquid courage pushing him almost as hard as Ymir’s words the previous night. Jean crossed his arms in front of his chest, uncomfortable and otherwise unmoving as he took in Marco’s increasingly anxious behavior. “Fuck it, I just- Gah.” he swore, bringing his hands to grab nervously at his reddening face. Jean shivered, though he doubted it was due to the chilling air. What was the matter? Was it him? Did he make him uncomfortable?

Assuming that was certainly the case, Jean tugged in his legs close to his chest, demeanor physically decreasing. “I’m sorry, shouldn’t have.... Was weird. I-” he was silenced by Marco’s fingertips resting on his knee in an action of reassurance.

“I liked it.” he hurriedly quipped, before his eyes widened and his cheeks grew a more prominent crimson. Marco turned away and looked off into the fire, seeming to contemplate something, though his hand stayed placed atop his knee. If Jean was being completely honest with himself, he was terrified. Terrified of himself, of fucking everything up, of how nice it felt to be touched like this…

Despite being a self-proclaimed womanizer, Jean was often untouched, making the sensation of Marco’s fingers upon his knee amplified and probably more intimate than was intended. But still, he longed for more, so much more. His mind went foggy as he tried to decipher what this all meant, what this entire night had ment. His skin felt hot as he took a deep breath, looking at Marco with equal amounts of concern and desire.

The want to always be close by to him, the walls of confidence and arrogance that seemed to falter and collapse when with him, the unjustifiable jealousy towards Ymir who had only just became close-ish to him, his obsession with seeing him laugh, seeing him happy, seeing him prattle on about his childish feather collection and seeing those freckles and that damned smile: it was all leading towards the same answer, an answer Jean didn’t know he was ready to fully confront.

Marco was still facing the dwindling fire, a heavy look weighing his features down. Unsure of what to do, but knowing he ought to do something, he rested a hand atop Marcos. He turned away from the smoldering coals to look Jean in the eyes, features flashing a whole myriad of emotions Jean couldn’t even begin to decipher. The tension between them grew as they both stared at one another, neither of them knowing how to proceed.

As if God Herself had had enough of the two’s back and forth antics, a downpour of rain started to fall from the darkened sky. Feeling the icy drops of water on his skin, Marco instinctively let Jean go, making his way up and off the now dampening ground.

“Ah shit, looks like the storm followed us here.” Marco awkwardly blurted, the contrast of the casual line with the previously tense staredown like chalk against a blackboard, finally breaking the impenetrable silence. Marco turned to start towards the shed, though when Jean didn’t follow, he threw him a worried glance. Jean knew he had to go in - this type of rain only meant bad news to come and it wasn’t like he wanted to ruin another pair of clothes... But something was stopping him. He was nervous. Nervous of the fire in Marcos eyes yet realizing he wanted it more than anything.

Seeing Jean unmoving as rain drenched his body, Marco bit his lips nervously, swimming with his own uncertainties and nerves from it all.

“Jean…?” he re-approached calmly, voice cautious as if approaching some sort of wild animal. The air grew colder and wetter as the winds picked up, Jean’s mumbled response rendered inaudible as he shook in the frigid air. He slowly stood, still fixating on the ground as the two made their way inside.

…

It seemed like this untouchable silence was to follow them inside as well.

The two men stood face to face in that rustic styled living room, Marco leaning against the east most wall and Jean standing limp by the door, neither sure if they had the courage to initiate what they both so desperately wanted. Marco looked at him with practically every traceable emotion etched onto his features. Jean could feel his remaining walls starting to chip away, a long running crack threatening to crumble the blockade into an unidentifiable nothing. Fine. He knows what he’s got to do.

A second of contemplation later and finally, it crumbles.

Jean makes his way over to the other, wordlessly and with his brain running damn miles a minute. Marco let out a shaky breath as Jean continued to step towards the other, stopping just a footstep in front of him. He looked a bit startled, though not afraid. If anything, Jean would say Marco looked… hopeful? Relieved? He reached out, hand grazing Marco’s hair as he settled it onto the wall behind him, leaning closer still. Marco was essentially trapped between the wood wall flush against his back and Jean, enclosing arm, yet he still did not look uncomfortable.

He had already made it this far… It was too late to chicken out right? Last minute thoughts raced in Jean’s mind as Marco's eyes looked up into his from wherever they were set before. His gaze was intense, his eyes aflame with a fire Jean had never seen in the other before. Now he wasn’t necessarily great with feelings and general social awareness, but looking into those fire orbs Jean saw nothing that said ‘Stop’

And so Jean said ‘Fuck it’

Jean finally closed the remaining space between them, lips meeting lips and- oh. OH. Jean’s body ignited with a sense of overwhelming intensity and desperation, the long awaited action of this sending his mind into overdrive. He was kissing Marco. Marco was kissing him. Marco didn’t hesitate to cup his jaw, Jean leaning into the touch before grabbing onto his arm. His other hand slid down from the base of the wall to slink around his waist, pulling the goddamned beautiful man closer.

Marco took initiative in deepening the kiss, eliciting unexpected hum from Jean’s lips. He let his other hand fall to meet Marcos waist, wanting nothing more than to graze his heated skin underneath the damp cloth, though Jean pulled back for a second, allowing room for retaliation or, possibly, resentment.

“Is this okay?” he whispered.

Marco nodded, fingers toying with the man's wet hair. “It’s more than okay.” he replied before Jean resumed his actions, lips meeting his with urgency. If it didn’t feel real at first, it sure as hell felt real now, and Jean was soaring.

It was sudden when Marco pulled back, hands moving to graze up and down Jean’s chest. Jean looked at him with nothing but fondness and ease, all his barriers down for him and him alone in this moment. Marco looked in his arms, skin burning with heat and eyes flaring with longing.

“Well…” Marco chuckled nervously, and Jean grinned. “This is unexpected,” Marco finished his sentence in a hush whisper.

Jean bit his tongue, more worried about this reaction than he had expected. “In a… good way?” he asked as anxiety crept its way into his slightly shaking hands. Marco put his forehead to his, getting a better look into his eyes. “You tell me,” he taunted.

Jean’s features took a turn for the serious, as he softly rocked his forehead against Marco’s. “Marco…” he began, the tone of his voice causing the said man to tremble slightly. “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this... with you.” As Marco peered through the darkened wet strands of Jean’s hair, he saw his eyes were glistening. Tears. Jean was crying. Unable to spit even a syllable out in return, Marco simply brushed his lips against his in a kiss. This time, it was Jean who returned the action with haste. Marco cupped his cheeks and felt their fresh tears mixed with warm flesh as they kissed once again, this time, with mutual cognizance.

Jean began laughing between kisses, almost unable to comprehend what was happening. He hadn’t realized how damaging it had been trying to ignore his feelings for Marco, nor how euphoric it would feel to finally acknowledge them. Marco pushed him back impishly and Jean caught his near-fall before grabbing Marco’s hand and holding it in his own.

“Is this real…?” Marco asked mindlessly, focusing entirely on their hands entangling as Jean rubbed his thumb over his forefinger.

“It better fucking be,” Jean half-joked. “'Cus if it’s a dream, please don’t ever wake me up” he concluded, studying Marco’s lightly speckled skin in the little light the shack provided.

“Hug me, please” Marco hushed, embarrassed at the question despite having kissed the man already. Jean flushed, the demand sending chills down his spine and making something in the pit of his stomach flip. Without a word, Jean snaked his arms around him, Marco hesitantly leaning his head on Jean’s broad shoulder. It was an apprehensive embrace at first, as if they still were somewhat afraid this was some kind of prank. He held him, too, and Marco’s hands were tangled around his neck. After a moment of comforting solace, it seemed Marco had finally realized that yes, this was in fact real. “Thank you.” he muffled into the crook of his neck.

Jean smiled, placing a small kiss to the top of his head. “No, thank you,” he said.

“Why?” Marco chuckled. Jean stroked his back, stepping somehow even closer in the embrace.

“Because you’re the most beautiful fuckin’ man I’ve ever laid eyes on…” he worded earnestly. Marco giggled cutely and placed a gentle kiss to his neck, nearly eliciting an embarrassing gasp from Jean.

“Says Jean fucking Kirstein.” he emphasized, kissing his neck again. Jean flushed furiously. He was seriously going to die.

“Mhph- don’t tease me, Bodt” he bit, forcing Marco’s head up as he collided with his lips again. Marco’s eyes widened as their bodies hit the wall, hands once more exploring and teasing through clothes.

Jean hiked his hands up Marco’s shirt, feeling his hot torso beneath as he thumbed the outline of his toned chest. Marco rutted against him, his hands moving to his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. “Ah-“ Jean hitched, his breath wavering as their clothed bodies rubbed against each other. Kisses deepened and tongues grazed curiously. All that could be heard in the little shack made for two were breathy moans and wanton grasps as the night took a physically fervent direction.

__________

Jean woke up in a daze, last night barely able to find its way back into his mind as his eyesight adjusted to the morning light. He shifted slightly before noticing Marco lying naked on his chest, hand snaked behind his head.

A smile easily spread over his tired face as the shining sun was proof the evening they shared wasn’t a dream or another figment of his imagination. It was real, and he treasured the feeling of Marco’s soft skin touching his. Careful to not wake him, he shyly traced false patterns on his speckled shoulder, elated at the prospect that he could just do that now.

A slight gust of cool wind slithered under the door and into the room, making Marco shiver slightly in his sleep. Jean pulled the fleece blanket to better cover the both of them as he continued to swipe his fingers across his skin. But it was too late, as Marco had already opened his pretty brown eyes.

Not being near awake enough to communicate, he entangled himself with Jean’s body as he reveled in the feeling of his skin being touched. Jean took this as full confidence there was no regret concerning what had happened and he kissed his forehead, hand ever so softly tickling his back.

Marco hummed, smiling into his touch as he slowly eased awake. He moved his head further into Jean’s chest, peppering him with small kisses as both of their quickening heart beats thumped against one another. Jean’s comforting touch faltered slightly, not being able to focus on much of anything other than the soft lips against his chest. Noticing this, Marco lifted his head up to be eye-level with him.

“Hi,” he grumbled cutely, voice deep and ridden with sleep.

“Hi,” Jean grumbled back, reaching slightly to place a quick kiss on Marco’s nose. They admired each other's sweat-lined skin before Jean spoke up again. “So,” he gulped, and Marco let out a low, grovely chuckle.

“We fucked and now you can barely look me in the eyes?” Jean went bright red. Hearing Marco’s joking tone and following chuckle didn’t lessen the effect this sentence had on him.

“I- sorry. Just never-” he began, and Marco placed his fingers on the man's chin.

“Me neither.” he confirmed, letting out a shaky breath.

Jean swung his thigh over Marco’s in a desperate attempt to get even closer - a clear sign to Marco that he was content with their situation. He snuggled closer, the blanket enveloping the both of them from the cool winds.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed.

Marco’s sun-kissed cheeks went pink, those words being uttered to him by Jean only ever being a part of his late night fantasies.

“Of course,” he managed, and Jean obliged, leathery lips kissing him in a delicate action of reverence.

“Jean,” Marco began, breaking the kiss. “Before anything… y'know. I have to know your feelings on, this, I guess. I’m not- I can’t just leave until I have absolute clarification. Listen, if this was just a one-off, I understand, but-”

Marco was silenced by Jean using his thigh to maneuver himself on top, resting atop the man before answering his plea. “I don’t want this to be a one-off, Marco. Believe me, last night was a blast, but you need to understand it’s you that has me smitten - you who has me wanting to stay in this stupid shack forever. And for some goddamn reason, you fuckin like me just as much as I like you.” he answered wholeheartedly. Marco opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as Jean continued on. “Fuck, what I’m trying to say is it wasn’t the alcohol or anything that led to last night. Marco, I kissed you because for a long time now, I knew I didn’t want to be friends. And… being alone with you it just - it opened that up for me and-”

His words caught in his throat as Marco used his same technique to hoister himself on top. He smiled from ear to ear, a sight Jean couldn’t get enough of. “If at any point in time you would’ve made a move, I’d’ve been yours. That talk I had with Ymir? It was about you. Jean, if you’re serious, I need a definitive-”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, let me rephrase: fuck yes”

Marco could’ve squealed, elation running through his veins as he watched Jean’s equally giddy reaction. He adored Jean, his bluntness, sarcasm, and tender heart. Not everyone knew of Jean’s warm heart, they hadn’t given the jock the chance. But Marco did, and to Jean, that’s all that mattered. They kissed for the thousandth time before laying back down in a fervent embrace, both knowing they had to get up and head back to camp soon but neither making the move to do so.

Eventually, and begrudgingly, they got up. A little cleanup and packing was done before they got fully dressed, ready to make the trip back. “We still have several hours,” Marco pointed out as he slipped his backpack on.

Jean grinned. “Yeah?”

Marco nodded. “We could… if you wanted to, hold hands?” he finished. Jean blushed despite how juvenile it may have seemed as he took Marco’s hand in his, giving a light squeeze of assurance.

“You never have to ask to hold my hand,” he chuckled.

A few hours had passed as the overcast sky seemed somehow even brighter than usual, their spirits beyond content with themselves and the world around them. Jean looked at Marco as their hands stuck like glue, neither daring to let go. Overwhelmed with adoration of the man next to him, Jean snaked his hand behind his waist, pulling him close. Marco stopped out of surprise, returning the action and turning his head to kiss him.

“Fuck you,” he snipped as he smiled. Jean played with his hair.

“You already did.” he quipped, causing Marco’s face to glow a bright red.

“I- ah-” he stammered as Jean kissed him again.

“I don’t ever want to go back,” Jean whispered, resting his head on the man's shoulder as they slowly began to pick up the pace again. Marco rubbed Jean’s back lovingly as they stayed conjoined at the hip.

“It’ll be okay. We’ll find time to sneak around. Especially at night”. Jean closed his eyes for a moment, imagining several nights of being close to him before waking up the next day to have it be their own little secret. That was okay by him, and by Marco too.

It was nearly nightfall when the pair had finally made it back, the sleeping quarters seen just ahead in the distance, lit by the torches lining the paths. They sighed, letting go of each other as they attempted to keep some semblance of normality of who they were before.

A hacking noise was heard, and Marco whipped his head to the side to see Ymir chopping wood. “Ymir?! What are you doing out so late?” Marco gasped. Ymir got up, striding toward them as she spoke. “Dumbasses back there are bickering. I’d rather be out here in order to avoid a headache.” she said flatly. Jean could only nod, as he had no idea what to say in reply.

“Fair enough,” Marco said nervously, watching as she crept closer to Jean. She pulled down the collar of his shirt and smirked.

“Ah Marco, it seems you finally learned how to ride horses.” she quipped. Jean nearly died right there on the campground and Marco let a hand shoot up to cover his mouth in surprise.

“Ymir!” he exclaimed before laughing out of embarrassment and defeat. She cackled before resting an arm on his shoulder, eyeing Jean’s absolutely horrified expression. “I’m proud of you, really. It was about time something was done about you two.”

Jean straightened out, a hand covering half of his face.”You… oh shit. You won't-”

“Tell anyone?” She finished, cutting through the bullshit. “No, ‘course not. That’s up to the two of you.” she smiled, calming the boys down.

Marco looked at her with a gentle gratitude. “Ymir, thank you. But… How do we keep this from everyone else? I just- I’m not ready. Jean isn’t ready.” he suggested before looking to Jean who was nodding furiously in confirmation. Ymir put her hand to her chin in momentary contemplation.

“Look, I’m not telling you all my secrets. But I can give a few. For now though I’ll just say this: if Christa and I can get away with it, so can you two knuckleheads.”

Jean’s eyes widened. So many bombshells in one evening. Ymir and Christa? Together? Thinking of it now, he wasn’t that surprised, but the sudden admittance of it caught him off guard. “Wow” is all he could muster before Marco tenderly put his head on his shoulder, making his face flush a light pink.

Seeing this, Ymir couldn’t help but grin. They were cute, and she unfortunately had to concede to that. “Well, I’m turning in for the night-” she began as Marco brought her in for a hug, interrupting her goodbyes.

“Thank you Ymir, really” he whispered. She patted his back. “Anytime man.” she concluded before breaking the hug to turn back. “Sleep tight!” she winked, and Marco looked back at a flushing Jean.

“How do you feel?” he questioned, unable to read Jean’s expression.

He ruffled Marco’s hair. “Good,” he said. “Really good”. He cupped Marco’s cheek and leaned in to meet his forehead. They breathed in the warmth of each other before pulling back, knowing they had to actually go back this time. “Meet me in my room, twenty minutes.” Jean hushed, and Marco bit his cheek.

“Fifteen” he quipped, jogging off to report their mission.

“Deal.”