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“Are you sure it’s okay?”
Marco rolls his eyes and ruffles Eren’s hair. “It’s fine. My mom’s been wanting to meet you for such a long time, okay?”
“I’m not gonna be, like. Intruding, right?”
“Eren, it’s Christmas,” Marco reassures, slinging an arm over Eren’s shoulders and pressing a kiss into his hair. “You’re supposed to spend it with the people you love.”
Eren makes a noise and curls closer, the rumbling of the train tracks beneath them loud and consistent as they barrel through the country. It’s cold on the train, and Marco watches as Eren pulls the sleeves of his sweater over his knuckles before crossing his arms and tucking himself further into Marco’s side, settling against him heavily.
It’s hard, watching Eren beat himself up over things like this. Marco’s been with him for three years, and every single holiday for those three years Marco has tried to get Eren to come home with him and meet his family. It’s not that Eren didn’t want to meet his family, it’s the fact that he felt intrusive. Which is a big load of bullshit, god. Eren can be so self deprecating sometimes, and it tears Marco up inside.
Eren would either go spend the holiday with Armin and his family, or with Mikasa, but since this year, Mikasa is studying abroad in Thailand, and Armin’s going to his boyfriend Jean’s home for Christmas, Eren was going to be all alone.
And Marco wasn’t going to let that happen, no matter how much Eren insisted he’d be fine spending the holiday alone in the dorms.
Eren’s still reluctant, but once Marco put his mom on speaker phone and told her to yell at Eren to get his ass over to the house, Eren bit his lip on a smile and finally agreed, albeit hesitantly.
The sun is slowly setting, and Marco watches the trees pass in a blur before flitting his gaze back to the boy in his arms. Eren’s tucked his feet up in the seat, curled up in a small ball as his head lulls sleepy against Marco’s collarbone, bouncing slightly every time the train jumps a bit. He’s warm, and he smells like soap and cigarettes, and when Marco buries his nose into unruly brown hair, he feels like he’s home.
--
When Eren finally wakes up, eyes bleary and a spot of drool on Marco’s shirt, it’s snowing outside and the train is slowing to a stop. Eren stretches, and Marco smiles at him softly when he groans as his back cracks.
“Did you sleep at all?” Eren rasps, scratching the back of his neck before slumping back against Marco. The taller of the two immediately holds him close again, kissing his temple as he shifts restlessly in his seat.
“Mm. A little bit.”
Eren tilts his head up to kiss the underside of Marco’s jaw, and as the train finally jolts to a stop, they stand up and grab their overhead bags, slowly following the line of people off. When they step out into the cold, tiny snowflakes begin settling over their clothes and hair, and when Eren crinkles his nose up as the wetness, Marco just reaches up, swipes a few flakes from the apple of Eren’s cheek, and then links their fingers as they walk further outside to where pick up cars are parked.
“Is your mom coming to get us?” Eren asks.
“My dad and brother,” Marco says, squinting at the line of cars parked at the curb. His face lights up when he spots his brother getting out of the car waving them over, and Eren squeaks as Marco grabs his hand tighter, dragging him over to where his brother is parked.
Marco and his brother look terrifyingly similar, and Eren’s still half asleep from the train ride so he nervously participates in the introductions before Marco’s shoving him in the back seat of the car and climbing in after. He must sense Eren’s out of place feeling, because he leans over and kisses his temple, placing a comforting hand on his thigh.
“You’re okay, yeah?” Marco asks quietly, and Eren watches as Mr. Bodt and Marco’s brother converse playfully in the front seat, familiar and welcome, and Eren sinks further into the seat, his lips twitching on a smile.
“You look just like them,” he says, grinning when Marco flushes a rolls his eyes, “You’re much cuter though.”
“Well, I’d hope so,” Marco mumbles, but he’s grinning and rubbing the back of his neck with the hand that’s not rubbing soothing patterns on Eren’s thigh.
After a good while of driving, the sky dark and snow lightly pelting the windshield, they seem to get further and further away from civilization, and when they finally roll down a gravel road about an hour and a half later, Eren presses his face to the window, looking out into the night seeing nothing but blackness and the hazy lights from the headlights of the car.
“Welcome to the boonies, boy,” Marco’s dad chuckles, and Eren breathes out a quiet ‘wow’ at the sheer void that he’s seeing.
“You never told me you lived in the country,” Eren whispers, raising an eyebrow at Marco. Marco just shrugs, and finally, after what seems like forever, Eren sees lights in the distance of a house, and the car begins slowing to a bumpy stop as the house crawls closer.
Marco’s family must see how tired the both of them are, so after a few more quick introductions (including Marco’s mother cupping his face and kissing him on the forehead, which makes Eren want to cry in a weird, warm way), Marco ushers them upstairs.
Eren’s never seen Marco’s room before, or been inside of it. He’s never gotten to know Marco as a dumb teenager, because they didn’t meet until college. Eren’s never seen the scattered band posters littering the walls, or the puke yellow-colored comforter stretched over his queen sized bed. It feels weirdly intimate, like he’s traveling back in time and digging through the remains of Marco’s younger brain.
“Oh my god, is this a soccer trophy?” Eren exclaims, picking up the trophy from Marco’s dresser. There’s a photo next to it, and when Eren looks closer, he sees a young, pink-faced kid grinning wide, braces glinting in the sunlight as he clutches a dirty soccer ball to his chest. “You’re adorable, holy shit.”
Marco rolls his eyes, grabbing Eren by the wrist and tugging him over to the bed. “C’mon, stop making me remember my horrible teen years and come make out with me on my childhood bed.”
Eren snorts and crawls onto the bed after Marco, pushing the taller boy down before climbing on top of him, settling himself comfortably before leaning down and pressing his forehead to Marco’s, their noses nudging gently. Marco has his eyes closed, but he’s smiling, his cheeks dimpling, and Eren feels an ache in his chest as he reaches up to cup Marco’s face with both of his hands.
“So, my parents are probably heading to bed soon,” Marco whispers, his breath ghosting across Eren’s lips, and Eren giggles, pressing a fleeting kiss to the corner of Marco’s mouth.
“I’m not letting you fuck me when your parents are two rooms over.”
Marco pouts, and Eren rolls his eyes before darting down and kissing him for real, licking along the seam of Marco’s lips as Marco’s hands find their way into the back pockets of his jeans, squeezing his ass just the way Eren loves it.
They make out on Marco’s too-soft bed for the better part of an hour, lights through the house slowly turning off as family members head to sleep, oblivious to the way Marco’s now got Eren beneath him on the bed, one hand slipped under Eren’s sweater, the other wrapped around Eren’s back, holding the smaller boy closer.
“S’getting a little warm in here,” Eren laughs, breathless and kissed out. Marco kisses Eren’s cheek, his chin, his forehead, anywhere he can get to, and Eren’s laughing, pawing at Marco’s chest before glancing out the window when Marco’s lips find solace in the crook of Eren’s neck.
“Marco! Look!” Eren gasps, shoving Marco off of him and sitting up, hopping off the bed and sprinting to look out the window. The clouds have cleared, the snow stopped completely, and what remains in the sky is completely ethereal.
Marco appears behind him a few moments later, resting his chin on top of Eren’s unruly hair as he says, “C’mon, put on your coat, sweetheart.”
Eren turns to him with a look of glee, and then he’s bounding over to where his coat is slung over Marco’s desk chair, quickly shoving it on and then bounding down the stairs none-too-quietly. Marco winces as he hears Eren’s heavy footsteps clomp down the stairs. Luckily, mostly everyone in his family are heavy sleepers, and by the time Marco’s quietly shutting the front door behind him, no one has woken up.
When he turns to the driveway, covered in a thin layer of snow from earlier, he sees Eren standing there, looking small and alone as he stares up at the sky. Marco comes up next to him, and when he sees Eren’s face, mouth gaped open and eyes absolutely gleaming, Marco can’t help it when he curls an arm around Eren’s narrow waist.
“I’ve never seen so many before,” Eren whispers, as if believes he needs to be quiet, if he’s too loud, the world might shatter right above their heads.
“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” Marco responds, but he’s not looking at the sky.
Eren blinks slowly, his nose slowly turning pink from the cold, and when he smiles, it’s like a slow, warm liquid seeping into his bones. He’s positively giddy, the light from the moon and the stars illuminating his boyish face, and Marco’s so in love it’s unfair.
“I’m really glad you came this year,” Marco says suddenly, the words falling from his lips before he can even think about stopping them, and when Eren turns to him, his face is open and beautiful.
“I’m sorry, about - you know, you’ve invited me every year, and - I just - ”
Eren looks like he’s struggling with himself at the moment, and Marco shushes him, “Shh, it’s okay, hey. It’s fine. You’re here now, right?”
Eren tugs Marco closer by the lapels of his jacket, and then he’s slipping his hands inside of Marco’s coat, hugging him around the middle and shoving his face into Marco’s chest, comforting and familiar.
“D’ya think they liked me?” Eren mumbles into his shirt, and Marco buries cold fingers into Eren’s hair, tugging gently in the way that let’s Eren know he’s being honest.
“I think they loved you,” Marco reassures. “My family loves anything that makes me happy. And you make me very happy.”
Eren snorts. “You’re so sappy, god.”
And Marco grins, even though his toes are beginning to go numb and his face feels icy. Eren’s pressed against him, warm where their bodies are touching, and the stars are extremely prevalent tonight. Like Eren opened his eye and projected his gorgeous glittering hue all over the inky black of the sky.
“Let’s go back inside,” Marco murmurs into Eren’s hair, and Eren nods wordlessly.
Back in the bed Marco used to claim every night, with Eren tucked up against his chest, leg tossed haphazardly across his hip, Marco stares out of his window and the swelling in his chest is almost enough to cause him to burst.
He can tell this Christmas will be the best one yet.