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New Candles, Old Flames

Summary:

On Marco’s 23rd birthday, he’s leaving it up to his friends to plan the night of a lifetime. He doesn’t know how or why, but he’s determined to have the best night of his life. What he doesn’t realize, is that in giving Eren full access to his phone, one of his best friends invites one of his old flames, the one he still thinks about: Jean.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

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It was Marco’s twenty-third birthday today. He had no idea what was in store for him tonight, but he was certain it was going to be a night he’d never forget. His best friends were in charge of planning the whole night ahead. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely stoked, but nervous as well. His friends were known to be… chaotic .

 

Chaotic | cha•ot•ic | adjective;

Marked by chaos or in a state of chaos (affectionate).

 

Mikasa was in charge of decorations, seeing as she had the most exquisite eye for what looked fancy and what looked like garbage. There was no doubt that she would throw together the best-looking birthday party this side of the country.

 

Armin was in charge of getting the food situation squared away. He could’ve sworn he heard some rumors about him teaming up with Reiner to bake something, but it was all hear-say. Either way, he and Mikasa were definitely in kahoots trying to revolve around a particular theme.

 

Finally, his childhood best friend was in charge of the invitations. Eren. The two had been ride-or-die basically since birth, having lived right down the street from each other since before either of them could walk. He wasn’t entirely sure how tonight would play out, as he had to keep reminding himself, but he had to keep thinking it would be incredible. He was doing this to calm his nerves and excitement, but he wasn’t sure if it was helping or making it worse.

 

His current dilemma began with what he would wear. This was like, the most important part of the whole night. Marco was convinced that if you didn’t look amazing, you wouldn’t feel amazing. And since he’s the birthday boy, it was practically his job to look absolutely jaw-dropping. He stood in front of his closet, deciding on tonight’s outfit.

 

At this point, he felt like he had tried on everything he owned. He was starting to get annoyed when he finally spotted a dusty black dress shirt with little white stars scattered across the fabric. Old Faithful, he thought to himself. He paired the top with some ripped, grey skinny jeans and beige Vans. He had already taken care of his hair about an hour ago, but upon looking in the mirror again, he decided it was too formal. He ran his fingers through his hair, disheveling it to look more casual. He gave himself a smile in the mirror, deciding that he looked pretty good. As he stepped away from his mirror, his phone started ringing.

 

“Hello?” He answered, propping his phone between his shoulder and ear.

 

“Good morning, birthday boy!” Mikasa sang, causing Marco to giggle.

“Good morning ? It’s almost 4pm!”

 

There was a pause. He assumed she stopped to look at the time on her phone.

 

“So it is. Well, I woke up not too long ago, so it’s morning for me. I’m having breakfast as we speak.”

 

Marco made a comment about needing food in your system in order to safely get shitfaced, a la birthday celebration.

 

“Alright, I’m gonna throw myself together, and then I’m coming to pick you up. Be ready in an hour!” She commanded.

 

He made a comment about how he’s practically been ready for hours. A bit far from the truth, but good enough. She bid him farewell and ended the call. Now that he knew there was only an hour to go, his nerves and excitement lurched with full force.




The hour passed by in what felt like a minute’s time, and Mikasa showed up in front of Marco’s apartment building with music blaring out of her convertible. The freckled boy raced down the stairs to greet his friend.

 

“This is one hell of a party bus!” He yelled, his voice barely audible over the music.

 

She laughed, and the two drove to a location unknown to Marco, jamming to loud pop music the entire ride. As they drove, Marco started to recognize some of the roads they were turning on to. He soon realized they were heading towards Mikasa and Armin’s condo. The two of them had the nicest place out of the friend group, so it only made sense. They pulled up to the home, parking in the driveway. There were cars lined up along the street, some he recognized and some he didn’t. There were balloons tied to the archway that led to the front door, with colors of gold contrasting black and silver balloons.

 

The two made their way to the front door, carefully opening it to the sound of quieter music. Well, it wasn’t quiet , but it was quieter than Mikasa’s speakers. Marco stepped through the doorway.

 

“SURPRISE!!!

 

It wasn’t actually a surprise, since he knew his friends were throwing him some kind of party, but it still filled him with so much joy to see everyone he loved in one place. Armin approached him and put the first drink of the night in his hand. Various friends and acquaintances continued to come up to him to greet him, giving him some sort of slap on the back or hug.

 

He took a good look around the condo, it was truly something special. There were decorations everywhere, all themed around the color scheme of gold, black, silver, and white. Minus everyone’s outfits, it looked like a flapper party. There were various banners pinned to the wall with fairy lights behind them, and more bouquets of balloons scattered around the condo as well. One of the banners read Happy Birthday, Marco! There were tabletop decorations and pop-up centerpieces, also color-coordinated, right next to another table filled with various colored gift bags. He assumed those were for him. At this, he thought to himself that his friends didn’t need to go all out for him. This was the happiest day of his life so far.

 

The evening was filled with party games of all kinds, including poker, beer pong, and karaoke, which resulted in him and his friends getting incredibly comfortable with the alcohol in front of them as well as each other. At one point, Connie and Eren were singing an incredibly passionate duet where he was almost certain it would result in those two either making out or ugly-crying in the bathroom. He was almost terrified to find out which.

 

At one point, Marco made his way up to Eren to thank him for inviting such a great crowd. He had made a point to thank Mikasa and Armin earlier, but Eren was much better at making himself unavailable.

 

“Hey, man! This is an amazing party! You really did invite everyone, huh?” Marco shouted over the music.

 

He basically allowed Eren to invite everyone in his contact list, minus his relatives. He wasn’t sure he wanted his immediate family exposed to the chaos that surrounded his friends. There were people from a few of his classes that had shown up, and even some from prior semesters. Thankfully, a handful of them fit right in. Sasha, a girl from his biology class, was already starting to get rather comfortable with Connie, as she laid her head down on his lap, taking up most of the couch.

 

“Birthday Boy! Yeah, I pretty much invited everyone in your phone minus your mom and grandpa. I figured you wouldn’t have anyone’s number saved if you weren’t friends with them, right?”

 

He laughed for a moment, but then a thought made his blood run cold. A few months back, Marco had a guilty habit of talking to some semi-questionable guys on dating apps. Some of them he would go on a few dates with and allow them to meet his friends, and others he’d keep around for more… intimate encounters. Most of these flings ended rather quickly, due to both parties not wanting the same thing. He knew for sure that he deleted the numbers for almost all of them, though, except one.

 

Jean Kirschtein.

 

He was probably the most decent one out of all of the guys he toyed around with. He was funny, smart, and incredibly charming. He had the best way of doing the stupidest things to make Marco laugh. He could honestly see a committed relationship stemming from the time they spent together, but clearly Jean didn’t feel the same way. The darker haired boy mentioned the concept of making their relationship official one night, which changed everything.

 

The two boys laid on Jean’s bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the quiet sounds coming from the ashy haired boy’s Bluetooth speaker. He had some soft rock playlist on, in which Marco could maybe pick out a few songs that he recognized, but couldn’t name them. Either way, the soft lull of acoustic guitars met with gentle taps of a drum matched the atmosphere of the room in that moment.

 

Their casual relationship started out with hookups and texting one another to see if the other was free for a few minutes. This was fine for both parties, but eventually, hookups turned into coffee dates, movie nights, and just hanging out in each other’s presence, like tonight. The two had spent the last hour or so pressed up against each other, whispering goofy things in the other’s ear and taking turns between kissing each other like their lives depended on it and just staring at each other.

 

“Hey, Jean?”

 

The ashy haired boy looked over at his companion. He hummed a questioning response, urging the other boy to continue with what he was saying.

 

“Do you ever think about how different this is?” He asked, referring to their ‘situationship.’ Jean looked puzzled for a moment before huffing out a laugh.

 

“Well, dear, sometimes when two people show that they like each other more than friends-” he tried, mimicking one of those shitty birds-and-the-bees talks.

 

This earned him a whack to the chest from Marco. Still, the freckled boy had a grin on his face, which nearly sent Jean into high orbit. This amazing guy before him had a smile on his face like he’d just won the lottery, and he put it there.

 

“Not what I meant, dumbass. I just meant us , y’know?”

 

Jean continued to gaze up at the ceiling, as if it was the night sky filled with stars. He was kinda quiet for a moment, but he finally opened his mouth to speak.

 

“I get what you mean. Our…” he paused, not wanting to say ‘relationship’ just yet. “ We’re different. But I kinda like that about us. We’re not so unaware of each other’s lives and responsibilities that we just meet up to fuck and never see each other again.”

 

Marco nodded, but internally, he was screaming. That was pretty much the concept of a relationship, if it was boiled down to the bare minimum. The two chattered back and forth about their not-relationship for a few more moments before the freckled boy spoke up again.

 

“What if we were?” He asked bluntly.

 

“What if we were what?”

 

“Official.”

Marco turned to face the other boy, watching intently as his shaggier hair layered onto the pillow below his head. His face appeared to glow against the dark contrast of the charcoal grey sheets strewn across the bed. Jean looked like a deer in headlights, but not a scared one, maybe just stunned.

 

“I- uh, wow. Marco, I don’t know. A-and I know this is gonna sound cheesy, but I don’t want-,” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to ruin what they had.

 

Marco searched his eyes for some sort of answer, or anything telling him he didn’t feel the same way, but found nothing. He saw worry, hesitation, and fear. Jean let out a sigh, finally breaking eye contact with the boy in his bed. Marco spoke up again.

 

“I don’t need an immediate answer. You can take some time to think about this, I don’t mind,” he offered.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Marco nodded.

 

“I’d wait forever if that’s what it took.”

 

Jean rolled over and placed a kiss on Marco’s freckled face. He returned it, and kissed Jean’s nose. This ended up resulting in a play-fight that started out with kisses here and there, to a steamier session of gasps, grunts, and moans.

 

That was the last night Marco ever spent with Jean. He wasn’t quite sure what happened after that, if he was being completely honest. He’d text him and send him stupid memes throughout the day, and if he was lucky, he’d get a short response. Eventually, the short responses stopped. The late-night phone calls stopped. The hookups stopped. They stopped, and Marco had no idea why. He figured maybe that conversation scared him more than he’d wanted to admit, but he couldn’t find it in him to delete his number. There were too many memories piled in there.

 

“Marco, are you good?” The shorter, dark-haired boy was staring at him curiously.

 

Maybe he’d been lost in thought for longer than he accounted for. He met Eren’s gaze and jokingly shoved him.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. But you look like you’re drunk, and I think it’s very rude of you not to include me in on this.”

 

This was enough for Eren to drop the conversation, and holler something about getting the birthday boy another drink. Marco sighed in relief, not wanting to ask any more questions about who was invited, or explain why he had reason to be worried about who was invited. Though, he couldn’t help the feeling that he was being watched. He looked around, observing his surroundings and watching his friends in action. Everyone had some sort of drink or party favor in their hand, clearly having a good time. As he eyed the door leading to the back porch, he could’ve sworn he saw familiar, ashy-blond hair. As if he had the worst timing in existence, Eren approached him with his requested drink. Marco grabbed it without a word and slammed the shot, resisting the urge not to gag at its harsh flavor. He made his way to the door, leaving Eren behind and with many questions.

 

He could’ve sworn he heard his friend calling after him, but he didn’t bother to turn around. He stepped outside onto the patio, looking around the darkened area. Night had fallen sometime between karaoke and jell-o shots, apparently. His head spun around like it was on a swivel, looking in every direction for what felt like a ghost. He sighed with defeat.

 

“Looking for me?”

 

Marco whipped around so fast, he should’ve fallen over. Considering the number of drinks he’d had tonight, he was surprised he didn’t. As he looked at the man before him, he felt all the air leave his body.

 

“Jean.” He breathed.

 

“Happy birthday, Marco.”

 

A small smile graced Marco’s eyes as it made its way to Jean’s features. He couldn’t stop his own goofy grin from spreading across his face. The smiles left nearly as soon as they arrived. They were both aware of the stale air between them, the unspoken words. Marco cleared his throat.

 

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

 

Jean tucked his hands into his pockets. Marco took this as an opportunity to really observe him. He had on a white dress shirt, with a dark grey waistcoat. The shirt really defined this shoulders, and Marco resisted the urge to reach out and touch him. He had on his usual ripped skinny jeans and sneakers, but somehow, he looked so dashing.

 

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” Jean asked.

 

Marco nodded and stepped inside for a second. He looked around the condo, searching for someone. Finally, he made eye contact with Mikasa. They locked eyes for a solid minute before Marco pulled out his phone. He sent her a quick text.

 

“Cover for me.”

 

He turned back to Jean and urged him to follow him down the balcony steps. He resisted the urge to reach for his hand as he guided him away from the party. The two walked side-by-side past the row of cars blockading the condo’s driveway, aimlessly wandering down the sidewalk.

 

“So, you wanted to talk?” Marco began.

 

Jean nodded, and paused for another few moments to continue gathering his thoughts. He let out a long sigh.

 

“Look, I- I know I’m not usually this type of person, but these last few months have been dark. I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and I wanted to give you another chance. Give us another chance.”

 

Marco was absolutely stunned. What the hell was he talking about?

 

“Give me another chance? What’s that supposed to mean? I waited around and gave you your space so that you wouldn’t be forced to make a decision.” Marco supplied, feeling the hurt emotions of Jean ghosting him rise up again.

 

“Giving me my space ? Is that what you call ditching me for other guys?” Jean spat.

 

Marco’s jaw nearly hit the floor. Their relationship, if he should even call it that, was nearly 4 months ago, and he still hadn’t been with another man since. Part of him was hoping Jean would reach out to him during that time, but the other part of him wasn’t ready to get hurt again. At this point, Marco stopped and was looking Jean in the eye. He didn’t know what this man hit his head on to come up with these hallucinations, but he was damn creative.

 

“What the hell are you talking about? I tried keeping you in my life but not trying to invade your space while you figured things out. You’re the one who ghosted me.” He shot back.

 

Jean let out a dry bark of laughter at his comment.

 

“Yeah, I ‘ghosted’ you after seeing you with your new boyfriend all the damn time. I wasn’t about to be someone’s second option!”

 

“Boyfriend? Jean, are you crazy? You were the only guy I was with when we were fooling around, and quite frankly, you’re the only guy I’ve wanted to be with since then!” Marco shouted.

 

Jean made a noise as if he was going to start speaking again, but paused. He let Marco’s words sink in for a moment before letting his emotions take control again.

 

“What..?”

 

The two looked at each other for what felt like a millennium, seeing who would dare to say something first. Jean searched for something in Marco’s eyes, but he wasn’t quite sure what. He felt like they had been in this kind of situation before, but this time was definitely more heated.

 

“It’s that guy I always see you hanging around! He’s shorter, he’s got black hair, and he’s loud as hell. You- you were just with him inside! Right before you come looking for me.” Jean explained.

 

Marco was even more confused now. Was he talking about Eren ? He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

 

Eren? He’s my friend, you dipshit! I’m not dating him,” Marco exclaimed.

 

Jean scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He was not about to get played like this again.

 

“Yeah, right. That kid looks at you like you hung the damn moon in the sky,” he spoke.  

 

He got calmer as the words came out of his mouth. He may have been projecting a little bit, but he was so pissed off right now, he wouldn’t dare admit that.

 

“Have you lost your fuckin’ mind, Kirschtein? He’s straight . Why the hell would I go chasing after a guy that doesn’t even like men , let alone a friend?”

 

Jean stammered, not knowing what to say at this point. He could’ve sworn that Marco was seeing other guys. He’d gone over to his apartment one night to surprise him, shortly after their last in-person conversation. He wanted to surprise him and tell him he wanted more from their relationship. When he got there, he saw Marco getting out of some guy’s car. Eren , apparently, but he was wrong.

 

“Marco, I-,” his voice was much lower now.

 

“Unbelievable. You threw away everything we had, or hell, could’ve had, because you couldn’t fucking communicate and talk to me about this? We’re not kids anymore! We’re grown ass adults.”

 

“Please, Marco, if you-,” he tried again, but was cut off.

 

“Do you have any idea how much that hurt me? I thought I had this really great thing going with an incredible guy. He could make me laugh, he could make my shittiest days seem a bit brighter. And y’know, it started off as casual, but all he had to do was say the word, and I’d make it serious.”

 

At this point, there were tears threatening to spill over his freckled face. These weren’t necessarily tears from a loss or because he was upset, but more than anything, he was angry . He was heartbroken. As they stood there on an abandoned sidewalk, staring each other down, he could feel the emotions well up inside him.

 

Jean’s expression totally changed. Where there was once a stoic glare was now a concerned, pained look. He fucked up, bad . And he had no idea until now. He had no idea that the man in front of him felt the way that he did. He took a deep breath and decided, it’s now or never .

 

“Do you still feel that way?” Jean asked.

 

He appeared to be bold and confident, but on the inside, he was trembling. What was actually seconds felt like minutes, hours, days. That was what pushed Marco over the edge. Tears poured down his face as he lunged himself into Jean’s arms. The ashy-haired boy wrapped his arms around the taller man’s frame so tightly, scared to let go.

 

“Idiot. You stupid, fucking idiot,” Marco sobbed, crying into Jean’s chest.

 

“I know, I know,” he cooed. “God, Marco, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

 

Tears were running down both of their faces, some were from relief, some were from distress, and some were just there. Jean pressed his lips to the top of Marco’s head and pulled him closer, if that was possible. This made the taller boy pull back a bit and wipe his eyes. With his vision still slightly blurry, he looked up at the boy holding him. There was an unspoken want between the two of them as their faces inched closer to each other’s. Jean’s eyes darted to the other boy’s lips, and then back up to his eyes, making sure that Marco wanted this just as badly as he did.

 

Their eyes stayed locked for a second longer as neither of them pulled back. Finally, after what felt like ages, their lips crashed together in a kiss that was so fervent that it was almost painful. It spoke a thousand words in a thousand different languages. Every feeling that the two had kept bottled inside throughout the past few months was being felt in this moment. Every feeling of wanting, every feeling of hurting, every feeling of yearning made itself known. Marco threw his arms around Jean’s neck and laced his fingers through the boy’s shaggy hair. They pulled away from each other, breaking the kiss to catch their breath. Their foreheads were still pressed against one another as their gazes met again.

 

“Can we start over?” Jean asked, his breath puffing across Marco’s features.

 

The taller boy closed the space between for a quick second, giving him a quick kiss as a partial response.

 

“How ‘bout we start right where we left off?”

 

A cheesy grin spread across Jean’s face as he kissed Marco back, sealing the deal. He took this as an opportunity to pepper the boy’s face in kisses, matching each kiss to a freckle on his face. Marco let out a laugh, matching his smile as he pried Jean off of his face. He happily sighed and untangled himself from Jean’s grasp, lacing their fingers together instead.

 

“Happy birthday, Marco,” Jean repeated.

Notes:

Okay, this fic is a very special thank you to tsumomii on tumblr, for being my proof-reader and helping me out when I got stumped. Cheers, brother.