Chapter Text
It was a garbage idea, one Ymir clearly treasured with a vengeance. With a loose arm around HIstoria and a smile that was as feral as they came, she had spoken raucously and proudly into the night void:
“Let’s get drunk and play hot seat!”
The buses had deposited them in the drop off lot of their school, where parents in pajamas and underclassmen donning backpacks (at 2am on a weekend? According to Connie, this was normal, though Mikasa wasn’t sure how he knew that either) had quickly dispelled the post-prom mood. Mikasa wasn’t sure if Eren had even remembered to pick up his keys from the coat check. In retrospect, this was a blatant oversight on her part—they would be stranded in the lot unless one of their friends would let them catch a ride. And if Eren didn’t have his keys and Levi refused to let them in considering the hour, they’d probably have to stay the night somewhere.
In conclusion, they would have to agree to whatever the gang decided for the night.
“It’s not really my thing,” Annie told Ymir. She was picking at a loose string of sequins on her dress, a ultrafeminine number that no one besides Armin really had the words to describe. The sight was ethereal, where others might have said terrifying.
Normally, they’d crash at Armin’s after any late night festivities. But Mikasa wasn’t stupid. He may not complain that his two closest friends were cockblocking him on prom night, but as much as she loved Armin, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to handle Annie’s flustered glares.
“Eh, you’re telling me you don’t want to know our deepest darkest secrets?” Ymir had grabbed Eren by the scruff of his shirt and was inspecting him closely. “You seriously don’t want to know anything about anyone else here?”
“Lemme go,” he said, wiggling his body until she dropped him. “Plus, why don’t we go eat somewhere first? I can drive.”
So he had grabbed his keys. Mark her impressed.
“It’s 2am, what’s even open?” Mikasa asked.
“Shiganshina’s?”
“Food sucks at Shiganshina’s.” Sasha said (Eren was disagreeing violently). “Why not Marley’s?”
“That’s just cause you want to see if Niccolo’s working.” Eren complained. “Shiganshina’s plenty good.”
“So what if I do.”
Historia grabbed Sasha’s hand, raising it to show her naked wrist. “She looks pretty today. Why not let her show off that she’s single—or at least date-less—and ready to mingle, and score some free food?”
“That’s my precious Historia! It’s set then! Marley’s and then hot seat!”
“Wait, literally no one agreed to the second half.”
They had piled into Eren’s van, a sight that definitely would have cost them at least one ticket for seatbelt and passenger violations, but Eren was surprisingly careful and they made it to Marley’s in one piece.
Sasha was right, Niccolo was working. He wore the papery hat they gave customers, but it sat slightly askew. Mikasa watched him shift, with sudden wide eyes and straightened posture, when he finally noticed Sasha in their crowd. Now, she wasn’t particularly good at pinpointing when people had “feelings” for each other, but from the way they had both paused, it was clear that Historia was spot on.
They ordered a cataclysmic number of burgers, fries, milkshakes (too many milkshakes), a grilled cheese, no, make that two grilled cheese, anything else?
“It’s on me. You all enjoy yourselves tonight.” With that, he yelled to the back to tell his boss—some freakishly tall assassin-like woman who gave them a death stare—to take it out of his paycheck.
While they let Sasha chat him up, Historia looked around, eyes glancing over the scattering of customers visiting the chain at 2am before they caught on one table.
“Is that Reiner? Oh wait, and Bertholdt….Connie. Oh my gosh, Jean!”
“No way. Let’s go sit with them.”
Ymir scraped one of the metal chairs across the linoleum tiles until she was nose to nose with the four boys, who were immersed in something on Connie’s phone.
“Yo kiddos. Watching porn?”
“Ymir, what the fuck,” Eren said, whacking Jean on the shoulder as he sidled into the seat next to him. “Jean-bo wouldn’t be able to handle watching that in public.”
Jean looked up before catching Mikasa’s eye.
Fantastic. Great.
He was red. “Oh, hey. Mikasa.”
“Hey.”
“Your dress looks really pretty.”
Mikasa looked between Eren and Jean. “Thanks.”
Eren looked at her. “Oh, yeah. Mimi, do you want to change in the bathroom? Your clothes are in my car.”
The boning in the dress was digging into her sides and the heels—though low and practical for dancing—still hurt. In the fluorescent lights of Marley’s, she could feel the sweat and makeup on her skin flaking into a dry paste. They’d finished taking photos, and Eren was used to her face without makeup anyway—“Yeah, you want yours?”
“Nah, I’m good. Take my jacket though, it’s cold out.”
Annie whistled as Eren shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket. “Wow, look at him being a gentleman.”
Armin wiggled his nose. “Well, is it really just that...”
Annie gave him a broad smile (utterly terrifying to the rest of them) before Ymir yelled.
“Ew, disgusting. No love birds please.”
“You literally are feeling up Historia as we speak.”
The two other boys—Reiner and Bertholdt—were looking at the newcomers with poorly disguised interest. Mikasa realized now that, indeed, the boy who had stood at her locker was the broad blond who sat now in front of her, paralyzed with shock.
“Oh, I’m gonna go get my stuff now, or something.” She darted out into the night.
When the food finally arrived, glistening with copious amounts of fat and other unmentionables, they dug in with a rabid fury that had both pleased and frightened Niccolo.
Reiner plucked a burger from the center. “Tax for stealing our table.”
Eren gave him a greasy fist bump over Jean’s head. “Good to see you. How was prom?”
Reiner nodded in between bites. “You stole my date but a real banger otherwise. Jean-bo’s been devastated all night so Bertholdt and I were consoling him, but I’ve gotta say the DJ was pretty top notch.”
Jean frowned before stretching back onto the booth. “I wasn’t really devastated. I mean, I figured she’s crazy about you, so I wasn’t really expecting to get to go with her or anything.”
Eren frowned. Things were verging on too personal for a conversation at 2am in a Marley’s, and besides. If he was honest, he could sympathize with Jean. Just a little bit.
He could also flaunt it. Depended on his mood. “Sorry Jean.”
“Nah, it’s fine.”
“Can we talk about something more interesting please?” Ymir said, between loud smacks. “Seriously, these burgers are good. Sasha, if you don’t marry him, I will.”
“Ymir...” Historia took a bite of Ymir’s burger. “But you have a point. Also, he’s adorable. Kind of looks like that TV chef too.”
Sasha was hitting the table, laughing a stuttered series of sounds that she must have thought made her look less affected. “Ehh, you really think so? He’s not really into me or anything though but we talk about food a lot. He’s a food chemistry major, did you know?”
“So he’s hot and he’s older and he’s into you. Sounds like a done deal to me,” Annie said.
Eren grabbed one of the last milkshakes—a vanilla swirl—before grabbing two straws and standing. “This is for Mikasa, but you guys can probably finish the rest.”
The table flew into a frenzy over the scattered remains.
He found her by his car, staring up at the night sky.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” He said, and she startled before dragging those beautiful eyes to him. It was something he could never grow tired of—the way she looked at him.
“Yeah.”
“You know you don’t have to hide out here right? They’re not going to bother you or anything.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Just a little bit of nostalgia in advance, I guess.”
Eren leaned back against the van before looking up at the moon. “Yeah, I get that.”
“They’re finishing the food food, but I grabbed the last vanilla shake. Wanna split?”
They forced the two flimsy straws into the lid before Mikasa came to stand nearer and siphon his body heat. They stood like that, between sips of milkshake, and stared at the moon.
Mikasa handed him the cup. “You can finish it, I’m too cold now.”
Eren gave her a sly grin as he wiggled his fingers at her. “Then I’ll have to warm you up—”
“Oi, Eren! Mikasa!” Sasha yelled. “Connie, Jean, Reiner, and Bertholdt are going to join us for hot seat! We’re all going to crash at my house!”
Eren frowned, but when he caught Mikasa’s wide smile at his obvious displeasure at being interrupted, it suddenly wasn’t so bad.
Ymir, most enthused, had whipped out a bottle of wine the moment they reached.
“Does everyone know the rules?”
“No.”
“Okay, let’s start then.”
Armin waved his hands. “Wait, shouldn’t we make sure everyone knows how it works before we start?”
“Who cares, they’ll figure it out.”
They had heaped into a tangled mess on the floor, a handful of blankets and sleeping bags stretched out to pad the cold hardwood. Jean, Bertholdt, and Reiner—the least acquainted with anyone present and among the tallest of the bunch—had no qualms stretching across the floor, collectively taking up half the room.
Eren sat on Jean’s stomach.
“Oi, move over.”
“You move over.”
“Get off.”
“You move.”
“Can you two shut up?” Ymir shoved the two so they fell on top of Reiner and Bertholdt, resulting in a cadence of yells and grunts as the four teens battled for floor space.
“Does anyone know how to open a wine bottle?” Historia asked.
Sasha whipped out a pocket knife from her purse. “I gotchu.”
“What the actual living fu—”
She began to saw away at the foil top before digging into the cork, causing little fragments to jettison across the room. The room watched in silence as she dug a hole in the cork that allowed some amount of wine to filter out.
“Sasha, doesn’t your house have a wine opener?” Armin was frowning slightly at the sight.
“No, this is how my dad does it, trust me.”
“Now it’s too late.” Ymir moaned. The cork was hollowed out, making transitioning to a wine opener pointless.
Armin handed Sasha cups as she divvied up the bottle.
“Do you want some, Annie?” She was, of course, the first one Armin asked.
“Not rea—”
“I do,” Ymir said, snatching the cup from Armin’s hand.
Mikasa reached for the second cup, realizing that this was likely the first time she was consuming wine of her own volition. She took a sip.
And gagged. It was every bit as disgusting as the first few times Levi had given her his glass, sighing that she didn’t appreciate the flavor when she made the same face. Erwin had given her a sip of some honey-flavored alcohol, which was equally awful despite the promise of honey. It must have been another one of those adult lies: cedar, fruity, dry—how could anyone taste that when their entire upper airway was assaulted by the feeling of alcohol?
There was a little grittiness—though it wasn’t all that unpleasant—and Mikasa chewed as she watched her friends. Eren was still battling with Jean and company, Annie was in her own world, and Armin, Historia, Ymir, and Sasha were all handling the wine distribution. She downed the cup, squeezing her eyes shut as it went.
A lot of firsts tonight. If she was being honest, her heart hurt a little already. She knew she would miss this.
“Oh wait, I think some of the cork is in the wine. Has anyone drank yet?” Armin said, swishing his own cup around.
“There was some cork...in the wine cup?” Mikasa looked down at her cup. “I thought it was a textural difference...oh.”
“You didn’t eat it, did you?”
Mikasa chewed on her lip. “No….”
“Why’s your cup completely empty then?” Eren asked, breathing over her shoulder.
Mikasa blushed.
“Okay, I just looked it up, and cork is non-toxic. Probably.” Armin said five minutes later.
Annie was reclining between his legs, where the two of them were hyper fixated on Armin’s phone screen, the former less interested but considerate all the same.
Eren was slamming his fist on the floor, shaking with silent laughter. Mikasa decided she wasn’t as distraught as she probably should be considering the circumstances when she looked at his face, boyish features lit up with unadulterated joy.
He was really pretty.
Like really pretty.
“Look.”
“Shhh!”
She could hear her friends staring—an idea which seemed oxymoronic—but being silent was never their forte. But Eren (now much calmer) was looking at her with these eyes that were impossibly soft, and how could she look away?
He was gentle. Kind. Argumentative and fiery, like no one else she knew. Passionate to the point of self-destruction and yet, between all these contradictory facets, a core that centered her. It tethered her to this world, to this life—
Was this what they meant by home being a person?
“Thank you,” she whispered.
How else do you tell someone that they were precious and so so loved?
A blushing Eren was so rare a sight, all chaosmongers in the background had been completely distracted from the thoughts of wine and hot seat.
“Dang, I mean I knew she was your weak spot, but I would have tried to force you two to get together years ago if it meant I could see this.”
Mikasa wasn’t so sure.
Somehow, it felt right this way.