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The cold had come fast, enveloping the district in freezing temperatures and painting the architecture with a glittery frost. The sky was a constant shade of gray and all through the town the visible breath of its inhabitants mixed with the falling powdery snow. Footprints littered the ground, which had all become the same cotton color that it was now impossible to tell where the road ended and the grassy fields began. The cold came from the mountains, whisking downward and paralyzing their homeland in Karanes. While only those who had important items to get remained outside, almost everyone else had been staying sheltered in their homes. The old woodwork of their houses did little to protect from the drop in temperature, but there would be fires burning and extra woolen blankets, all lovingly sewn by worried mothers and ambitious young women. To be a seamstress made a pretty penny, especially as the summer temperatures disappeared.
The wind bellowed through the alleyways. The faintest sound of some forgotten windchimes, left out by accident from the days of butterflies and making wishes on dandelions, rang softly in the air.
Two pairs of booted footprints followed each other side by side, down the usually busy corridor where shops were clustered together and traveling merchants would set up temporary stands, attempting to swindle every last cent they could get. Now the square was empty, shop doors slammed shut, and the wooden signs that indicated what they were swayed in the wind. The two soldiers walked in tandem, feeling the chill in the air brush against their cheeks. Their winter gear was heavy on their bodies, the thick green coats added a much-welcomed heat that contrasted with the air on their skin.
The civilians may have managed to escape the winter, but the military would not be granted such a luxury. Shipments were delivered from the Reeves company. The water hadn’t frozen over enough to stop the boats from delivering the boxes of gear being brought there from Trost. Floch and Jean were tasked with the laborious job of going and collecting the boxes, which were waiting at the dock, all the way on the other side of Karanes. While the initial order caused them both to frown (Jean offering Floch a side-eye that the redhead almost burst out in laughter at) it surely beat training out in this cold. At least now they could take their time collecting the equipment, skipping out on burpees that would most definitely have their faces covered in snow. They laughed together at the misfortune of their comrades who stayed back as they both shivered towards their destination.
“Damn, it really doesn’t want to stop snowing, does it?”
Jean had grumbled as they continued on their path. His gloved hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his breath was thick as it came out. Floch could feel the tips of his ears stinging and tried to place a hand over them to warm up, but it was pointless. He trailed slightly behind Jean now and began stepping in the footprints he had left. Their height difference was impossible to miss, and it was crazy to him that only a few years ago they were the exact same stature. Now; he noticed that he could fit his feet in Jean’s footprints, with some extra space between where his toes end and where Jean’s had. He smiled when he noticed, and began making every step he took plop right inside of the other’s footprints. Jean didn’t seem to notice.
“Ya know, I really think this shipment could’ve waited till tomorrow,” Jean complained.
“Probably. But hey, if we were at home, we’d have to train outside, remember?”
“Or just fake sickness.”
“You couldn’t pull that off.”
Jean turned his head and looked at his friend quizzically, the wind tousling through the length of his hair.
“Everybody would just assume your alcoholic ass is just hungover.” Floch teased. “They’d only push you harder.”
“I’m not an alcoholic.” Jean turned his head back around.
“And I’m not a loudmouth.” Floch ruffled the back of Jean’s head.
Jean laughed out loud. “Now you’re just lying.”
They continued to walk together, and the snow kept falling on them. Floch noticed how the snowflakes were sticking to the wool on Jean’s shoulders, speckling the green of his coat with sparkles. His hair was also beginning to collect quite a lot of snow. He smiled as he watched more snow land on his form, no longer paying attention to stepping in his footprints. He could hear Jean complaining some more, but wasn’t sure what exactly he was saying. He figured assuming it was about the task they were given was a safe guess. As they continued to walk, they passed by warm homes and he could smell the scent of burning logs in the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a family having a meal together, the children bundled up in blankets as they sat at the table. One of them caught a glimpse of Floch, most likely noticing his ‘Wings of Freedom’ on his shoulder because their eyes suddenly widened with excitement. The little boy smiled wide and the little girl tugged on her father’s sleeve as she pointed out the window. Floch could hear Jean start to laugh.
“Careful Soldier, if you keep staring like that your adoring fans might come out to say hi.”
“They’re cute.”
“Yeah.” Jean stopped and turned to stand next to Floch, placing a hand on his shoulder. “They are.”
“Wish they wouldn’t get so excited. They have no idea what wearing this uniform really entails.”
“Well, we’re the heroes of Shiganshina, remember?” Jean motioned sarcastically as he spoke. Floch knew that Jean agreed when it came to the propaganda that was spread about enlisting in the Survey Corps. It was one of the many reasons why he’d grown to like him so much. “That’s reason enough to shove away your potatoes to catch a look.”
“Heroes... Makes me sick.” Floch shook his head. “Only heroic thing I’ve done is wear this bolo tie instead of ripping it up in protest.”
Jean laughed and squeezed his shoulder tighter.
“You were pretty heroic to me the other night when I’d thought I’d never make it home.”
“You’re just lucky I guided your drunken ass back, I could’ve just left you in that alley.”
“My hero.” Jean’s lopsided grin was met with an eye-roll from Floch, and then he spun around on his feet to continue walking forward, tugging on the redhead’s sleeve as he did.
“Seriously though. We should get going. Standing and staring any longer is gonna make us look creepy.”
Floch awkwardly waved at the little girl, who most likely would’ve gotten up from the table and ran outside if it wasn’t for her parents. He hastily followed Jean, catching up to him and trying to shake the thoughts of the children out of his head. A pit in his stomach was growing stronger as he thought about what they might do when they grew up. The boy was young, but the girl looked almost twelve. She could think about enlisting if she wanted to. The thought of her joining the Survey Corps, thinking she’d become some sort of hero like him, made him angry. He shook his head. Another gust of wind blew, this one stronger than any that had blown before, and he felt a sharp chill go through his body. He could worry about the children later, for now, they needed to hurry and get to their destination before it got any colder.
When they arrived at the docks, they noticed the river was full of ice. A large sheet of it spread across the surface of the water, and the boat was completely stationary. The ice seemed to have done a good job wedging it in place. There were a few men on the boat, who appeared happy to not have to be working at the moment, and plenty of shipment boxes scattered on the deck. Floch noticed Jean looking over at the boxes, most likely deciphering where theirs must be kept, and he caught a glimpse of just how red Jean’s ears had become.
“Hey, Scout!” A man on the boat shouted, and Jean looked over in his direction. Floch felt slightly annoyed that the man hadn’t addressed him as his rank, but knew he hadn’t known any better. “Yer stuff’s on the bottom. We’ll get it to ya soon, but we’re takin’ a break right now. Fuckin’ freezing our asses off out here.”
Even with the strong scent of icy cold in the air, the smell of alcohol was impossible to miss. It flew off the boat through the gusts of wind that blew in the soldier’s direction, and Jean shook his head in annoyance.
“Break? Are you kidding me?”
“C’mon man, dere’s a lotta it underneath. We’ve been out here all day.” The man waved him off as he quickly entered the interior of the boat. Jean crossed his arms and began muttering under his breath.
“Well, this is just great. We walk all the way across town and these clowns think they can just take a break as soon as we show up, huh? Shitheads. I’m freezing too.”
Floch stepped closer to Jean, just as annoyed as he was by the turn of events. Their shoulders brushed together, and he could hear the way Jean’s breathing had grown heavier. Looking at the sky, it was obvious the weather was only going to get worse. Floch had encountered plenty of harsh winters growing up in the mountains. His mother and him shared a bed for warmth, as they went days on end with freezing temperatures. He distinctly remembered the one winter her breathing had begun to get worse and as she held him in her arms, he could feel just how cold she had gotten. It was like her body stopped retaining heat. There were a few nights he truly thought he was going to lose her and had taken it upon himself to collect the firewood during the day, finding her paler and paler every time he returned. Hearing Jean like that made his stomach start to knot up and he grabbed onto the taller one’s arm.
“Hey, are you alright?” Floch spoke with concern.
“Just pissed off, why?”
“You sound cold.”
“Oh.” Jean shivered, the tip of his nose a deep red. “Yeah it’s getting colder I think. I’ve never been that good with the snow.”
Floch furrowed his brows, and as if it were instinctual, he grabbed ahold of Jean’s hands. He had gloves on, but he could tell he was still feeling the cold underneath. He started to rub them together with his own. Jean froze when Floch grabbed him, and he looked slightly concerned as Floch attempted to warm him up.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“There’s a shit ton of boxes to bring back. I need you able to lift because I can’t take them all.” Floch covered up his concern, with a less important reason. He felt awkward to tell Jean he was worried about him. In fact, he felt awkward that he was even getting so worried about him. He was clearly capable of taking care of himself, Floch didn’t know why he was feeling so protective.
He leaned his head down towards Jean’s hands and started to blow hot air on them. He blew slowly, but with purpose. Jean’s fingers brushed against Floch’s lips. Floch looked up at him, and he noticed the snowflakes that were resting atop Jean’s surprisingly long eyelashes. They twinkled in the little bit of sunlight that was peering through the thick snow clouds. Jean looked confused but Floch was too busy admiring the sharpness of his eyes. And noticed for the first time, that Jean could look sort of pretty, in a masculine way. He felt strange to think that about him, but there wasn’t a better word to describe the way he looked at the moment. His face was flushed from the cold, and his lashes were exaggerated by the snowflakes, and as he warmed up his hands, Floch’s cheeks were beginning to get pinker, but not because of the cold.
“Thanks.” Jean’s voice was weak when it came out, and Floch wondered if perhaps he had felt a similar way to him at that moment.
“It’s like I said. I need you to not freeze to death.”
Jean smiled for just a second, letting out an almost nervous-sounding laugh as he did so. He took his hands away from Floch, and cleared his throat, stuffing them back inside his pockets. The toes of their boots touched, and Jean looked off towards the boat where the men were still ‘taking a break’ inside.
“Well, I’d rather neither one of us freeze. But if they take any longer it just might happen.”
“It’s getting dangerously cold out here, and the idiots over there don’t seem to want to work.”
Jean looked back at him and when they made eye contact he felt a flutter in his chest. It was quick and he tried to ignore it, but the look in Jean’s eyes made him feel like he had felt the same thing.
“It would be great if we had a blanket. You look like you’re getting really cold.” Floch looked around as if he’d miraculously find one as he spoke.
“You worry too much.”
“Hey, don’t underestimate what cold weather can do.” Jean seemed to notice how serious Floch was being because he leaned closer, their chests starting to brush against each other. If they had wrapped their arms around each other they’d definitely be hugging. Floch wasn’t sure to call what they were currently doing instead.
“Well, body heat is supposed to help, right?”
“Yeah.” Floch began to feel slightly nervous, thankful his coat was thick enough that Jean wouldn’t feel his heartbeat through it. “Though, don’t know how much good it’ll do us for much longer.”
“I can’t believe you used to live up north.”
“You definitely couldn’t handle it.”
“No way.” Jean chuckled, and Floch could feel the sound of it vibrating in his chest. “You must like the snow though.”
“Eh, not really.” Floch turned his head so that his ear was smooshed up against the front of Jean’s shoulder. “It gets annoying pretty quick. I used to be the one that had to gather firewood while a blizzard was coming through.”
“You should’ve just faked sickness.”
“You must’ve done that a lot as a child.”
“Worked every time.” Floch could hear the smile on Jean’s face as he spoke.
“Yeah well if I faked sick, I’d end up really sick.” Floch retorted. “My mom was too weak to get the firewood.”
“Was she ill?”
“It got really bad one year. She almost died. Then after that, she never seemed to fully recover, so I always had to get it. After I left, a neighbor of ours moved in to help her.”
“You must be worried about her now?”
“She’s got help from my aunt and uncle since I left.” Floch brushed it off. “Now it’s you I’m concerned about.”
He was grateful for the way that Jean seemed to understand when it was time for joking and when it was not. He hadn’t made fun of Floch for worrying about him and instead took one of his hands out of his pocket, reaching it around Floch and pulling him in even closer. Now, Floch thought, they were definitely hugging. He buried his head in Jean’s chest and felt the other’s chin rest atop his head. There was something so comforting about the way Jean was holding him, even if it was with just a one-handed hug. Floch tried to brush away the thoughts of excitement that were confusing and also hard to ignore because he didn’t want to make the situation weird. Jean and him were just friends and this was simply for extra warmth.
He felt silly until, through the thickness of Jean’s coat, he could hear the beating of his heart. It was faster than he expected and he smiled at the realization that Jean was getting nervous about the contact. The beating sang through Floch’s ears, and he decided to be nice enough to not mention it and instead just revel in the fact that it was happening. The cold in the air couldn’t stop the warmness that now lingered in Floch’s heart and the warmness that seemed to be consuming Jean’s.
“Ya boys ready?” The voice from the boat interrupted their embrace and Jean quickly let go of the other to rush over.
“Finally done drinking on the job, are we?” Jean was quick to heckle the man as he hurried to collect the boxes. Floch tried to brush off what had happened and rushed to help. They had a long journey back home, and the extra load was only going to make it more aggravating.
When they finally got back, the day had turned to night, but thankfully the wind had calmed down during their return trip. Floch couldn’t stop thinking about the way Jean had felt, but neither one talked about it the whole way home. Jean spent more than half the time complaining about the men on the ship, and Floch happily let him vent, shit-talking as well whenever he could get a word in. Their breathing was heavy when they walked inside. Carrying the boxes in the cold was not an easy feat for either of them. Jean groaned dramatically as he set them down.
“I’m done.” Jean took off his coat, their exercise on the way back doing a good job of warming them up. “That was plenty of work for one day.”
“Agreed.” Floch took off his coat as well. “Let’s agree to never do that again.”
“Boys, so glad you made it back!” Commander Hange’s energetic voice greeted them. “Those boxes are bigger than I thought they’d be.”
“No shit,” Jean mumbled under his breath, but Floch heard it and smirked.
“I’ll get someone to carry them the rest of the way. You’ve done well, go get yourselves some food.” Hange rubbed her hands together, as she headed down the hallway. “And stay warm.”
Floch and Jean looked relieved as she left. And Jean walked over to Floch, putting his hand on his shoulder again.
“That was the best thing she could’ve said.”
“I know,” Floch spoke enthusiastically. “I was going to refuse to carry the boxes anymore. Had a whole counterargument planned in case she thought we should bring them somewhere else.”
Jean laughed, and once again squeezed tighter on his shoulder. Floch had grown to recognize the gesture as affection from his friend.
“Thanks for worrying about me out there.” Jean’s voice was lower as he spoke. “Sorry to be such a wimp.”
Floch placed a hand on top of Jean’s.
“Just looking out for my comrade. Like I said, I needed your strength to carry that stuff back.” He deflected again.
“Well good lookin’ out, man.” Jean started to walk forward, before turning around swiftly, the same look from right before they hugged back in his eyes. “My hands are nice and warm now.”
He left with a smile and Floch rolled his eyes, but with a shy smile on his face as well. The comment was simple but he knew what it meant. Whatever happened between them was hard to explain, but Floch liked it. Jean’s acknowledgment of it was enough to keep him warm for the rest of the night. And if Jean needed help warming up again, Floch was more than happy to help him out.