Chapter Text
You wake up shivering.
You were never expecting it to be this cold. You thought the room full of usually-sweaty teenage bodies would provide sufficient heat but apparently it didn't. Even with the bitter winter raging outside the barracks, coupled with thin walls, thin mattresses and thinner blankets, you still weren't anticipating the shivering. You blink a few times and with a sleep-laced mind, try to guess what time it is. You have no idea, but it’s late enough that even the ones that stay up past lights out are fast asleep. You can tell by the soft snoring.
You’re cold. Sleepily, you think maybe it would be a good idea to share some body heat with someone. You contemplate sneaking over to the girls’ quarters like some of the older guys did occasionally but the thought of stepping outside makes your toes curl so you pull yourself into a ball instead to try to maintain some heat. It’s fairly useless.
You sit up and look around, using only the chink of pale moonlight filtering weakly though the window to see who is in nearby. Squinting, you make out the form of your friend Marco in the bunk to your left, one half of his freckled face shrouded in darkness and the other lit up with a gentle glow of silver. Despite his baby face, broad forehead and dumb-ass haircut, you think he looks quite pretty in the moonlight. He looks peaceful.
You stumble out of bed and shake him vigorously by the shoulder. The floor is cold so you hop from one foot to the other and hiss his name, kind of hoping desperately that he will wake up and let you into his bed so you don’t have to return to your own cold bed with chilly feet.
“Marco,” you whisper. “Damnit, Marco!” A little louder this time. You shake his shoulder again until he stirs and his big brown baby eyes flicker slowly open. He moans quietly and shoots you a confused look in the half-darkness.
“Jean…? Whayyawan?”
“It’s freezing,” you state. You start to feel like a bit of an idiot waking him up like this but the thought of backing down sort of hurts your pride. “Let me in your bed. Warm me up.”
“Warm you up…?” he says.
“Yes,” you say.
“You wanna geddin the bed?” he says. From what you can see, he’s staring at you.
“Yes,” you say. You’re regaining proper consciousness at an alarming rate and you’re beginning to feel pretty stupid. This was a dumb idea, why would you even assume he’d just let you sleep with him? Shaking your head, you go to turn away, but he sits up on his elbow and quietly clears his throat.
“Sure,” he says.
“What?” you say.
“Get in,” he says. You’re sure he’s biting back a smile when he shuffles backward to make room for you and pulls the sheet back. You pause for a moment. “Jean, hurry up, it really is cold.” You’re surprised by how quickly he just does as you ask.
“Alright,” you say. You’re kind of pleased but you don’t make it obvious.
Marco’s sheets are more welcoming than you could have imagined. They don’t smell of that barely-clean must of ‘fresh’ laundry anymore; they smell musky and a little sweaty but sweet and they smell of Marco. Marco smells pretty good, you think.
You crawl into his bed and silently decide that it’s best if you face the same way he is facing to prevent any awkward face bumps. This leaves you tucked into the crook of his body, near-numb feet brushing his shins every so often, but the rest of you swathed in body heat and it’s so surprisingly wonderful that you find yourself smiling when your head hits his pillow.
“Thanks,” you say, although the word is a bit forced. You don’t like the idea of being in debt to someone. However, he doesn’t seem to notice and just inches close enough so his chest is pressed up to you, so you can feel his heart beating steadily on your back. It’s faster than yours is.
“No worries,” he says sleepily. His hot breath on the back of your neck sends a shudder over your skin
There’s a weird pang in your stomach. You quickly turn your head and upper body to face the ceiling so he can’t send more breathy words down your spine.
“Cold?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you mutter. Turning your head is no use because his breath is still dusting over your cheeks and ears and neck, and you’re sure his mouth is now on your face somewhere. It feels strange, but you elect to ignore it. It’s either this or trembling to a freezing death in your bunk over there.
“Here,” he says. He pulls you in by the waist then lets you go, tucking his arms beside him. Your lower back is pressed into his stomach, and it’s so warm. You hope he is comfortable because you sure are. You don’t tell him this.
Soon you relax, closing your eyes. You kind of hope sleep will come soon, you’ve learnt to cling desperately to as much sleep as you can get – the exhaustion from training can kill a man. Marco’s heat is very soothing though, you find.
“Your body is warm,” you say, offhandedly as possible.
“Mm…” he replies. Just ‘mm’. For once, you’re not sure if you said the right thing. Maybe honesty wasn’t the best policy here. What if you creeped him out a bit? You contemplate pulling away from him but you don’t. You wonder if he will push you off eventually, but he doesn’t. You’re kinda relieved about that, because it’s more comfortable than you’d imagined and you can’t deny you’d be pretty disappointed if he shrugged you off. He doesn’t say anything for a while; just lays still, his hot and heavy breath right in your ear. You swear you can feel a smile curling against your temple but you decide you’re getting ahead of yourself and ignore the possibility that Marco is enjoying this half as much as you are.
After some time, he moves a hand from his side to rest on your belly and for second you’re taken by surprise. The soft sound you make in the back of your throat is completely unintentional. Frankly, you’re a little embarrassed but he doesn’t seem to notice. Even if he does notice, he doesn’t mention it. You can feel his fingertips through the material of your shirt, the heel of his palm pressed against your too-bony hip. It feels sort of good. You wonder if it should feel this good.
No-one has touched you like this in a long time.
Letting your mind wander, you begin to wonder why it’s been so long since you’ve been shown any sort of physical affection. To be honest, it’s not as if the ruthless training regime you’re undertaking leaves much room for personal affairs, but you can’t help but think it would be nice to have a little female attention once in a while. You grit your teeth. Whatever, you think, just whatever. It doesn’t matter that no-one is interested in you. You’re not here for that.
You shuffle under the covers a little more, hiding from the chill and sinking back into Marco’s body. You think his face is too close to yours but you don’t make an effort to move away because you’re pretty tired and fairly comfortable. Maybe it’s nice being in such close proximity with someone after so much rigorous brutality in the day time, what with the drills and the hikes and the 3DMG and the titans… A small pleasure isn’t a bad thing, you tell yourself. If you had your way, though, it would be Mikasa you’d be cuddling up to. You bet she has such smooth skin. You bet her hair smells great. You bet she has really soft lips too, they probably taste amazing. Briefly, you wonder if Marco has smooth skin. You wonder if his hair smells great. You wonder what his lips are like.
Your thoughts quickly dissipate when you feel fingers shift underneath your shirt and gingerly slide across your bare skin. You aren’t expecting this.
“Whoa there,” you breathe – but it’s barely loud enough for even you to hear.
“You said you wanted me to warm you up,” Marco says. His voice is perfectly innocent, gentle as always. “I-is this not OK?”
You hesitate. Marco’s hand is very warm on your stomach and it’s kind of making your skin tingle.
“Marco…” you say. Or try to say. It seems your throat has tightened up, you’re not sure why.
“Sorry, Jean…” he whispers, moving his hand away from your belly to leave a cool trail where his warmth had just been; it makes you feel bizarrely uncomfortable, and before you really know what you’re doing, you fumble for his wrist underneath the sheets and pull it back so his fingers graze your stomach again. You don’t really notice how much you’re shaking.
“No,” you say and immediately recognise that the phrase alone sounds insufficient. “N-no, it’s OK…” He sighs softly in your ear, maybe laughing a little – you can’t tell.
“I thought with the skin contact…”
“It’s fine,” you cut in. “I don’t care.” The words come out wrong and blunt. It’s not that you don’t care – it’s more that you don’t mind. Marco’s hand slips further up your chest and you kinda have to force yourself to breath normally. You’re not sure how, but his other hand has wormed underneath you and up to your sternum too, and now both of his hands are just resting there across your heart. His face is buried against you. You’re starting to think this is getting pretty weird and you’re wondering if Marco is just a naturally affectionate person because he seems to be perfectly calm whereas you’re starting to freak out a bit with the way he’s cradling you like the two of you are lovers.
“What’s up?” you whisper. “Are you in love with me?” Marco laughs into your neck and you can feel his chest vibrate against your back.
“Absolutely,” he jokes. You know it’s not sincere but it makes you blush anyway, you’re glad he can’t see your face.
“Are you?” you press, the grin too apparent in your voice. He doesn't reply for a while and your smile drops.
“…Yes,” he says. No laugh this time. You don’t know what that means but it makes you so nervous that you kinda choke a little and change the subject.
“Let’s get some sleep, yeah?” you say anxiously.
“Yeah,” he says. Then he grips you tight, squeeze the air out of you a little. You think about telling him to stop, but you don’t, you sort of just lay there. Touch his hand with your fingertips. Let his soft breath drip down your neck and shoulders and back and down your spine because at this point, just being with him feels so good that you don’t care anymore. You’re warm and that’s all you needed, right?
You wake up three times in the night – or the early morning, you suppose. The first time it is because Marco is murmuring in his sleep, and he sighs your name and it sounds so weird to hear ‘Jean, Jean…’ in your ear in that throaty barely-whisper that you get the chills. The second time, you wake up to a wet patch on your neck and your first thought is that Marco has been dribbling in his sleep, but it later occurs to you that – if his too-sincere statement from earlier is anything to go by – he might have kissed your skin while you were sleeping. The thought makes your stomach flip, but drifting back into unconsciousness you realise you might be OK with the idea because the drying patch of saliva feels sort of nice.
The third time, the room feels brighter behind closed eyes so it must be later in the morning. You’re certain no-one else is awake because you are vaguely aware of Marco sitting up in the bed and turning to look around, then mumble to himself. Then, you are vaguely aware of him leaning over you, and you feel his hot breath on your cheek… In your sleep-addled state, you don’t anticipate what he does next. And when he does it, you pretend not to know about it despite your surprise. You pretend not to feel his lips press into the corner of your mouth, lightly, as if that, if he does it gently enough, you won’t be conscious of it. You pretend not to feel completely overwhelmed and utterly terrified when he kisses you again – still carefully, still experimentally, you guess – but fully, lips to lips this time. You pretend not to acknowledge the wild tingles in your skin, your beating heart, your flushing cheeks. You pretend you don’t want him to do it lots and lots and you pretend it doesn’t feel amazing and you pretend you don’t want to kiss him back just to see what it feels like. You pretend to remain asleep.
By the time everyone else in the barracks wakes up and you pull your groggy head from Marco’s pillow, he’s no longer behind you. You notice he’s slipped into your bed, making for a neat cover-up, presumably so no-one else gets suspicious or anything. Not that they would. Or should have a reason to.
You’re not sure how you feel this morning. Nothing really registers until you bump shoulders with Marco later on and all the warmth from last night comes flooding back at once to burn at your face and back. He shoots you a grin. Pretends nothing has happened. You’re grateful for it, but at the same time not, because he definitely kissed you twice on the mouth while he thought you were asleep and it was strange and you want him to explain himself. It’s made you feel funny.
You think about it a lot.
Marco doesn’t act lonely, but maybe he is, you think; maybe he craves attention and you were just the one to give it to him, wrapped up in his sheets, hands on your bare skin, whispering your name in his sleep, ‘Jean, Jean’... Oh, no doubt his actions were pure-hearted. Everything about Marco is. You decide he was probably just looking for some company; you merely presented him with the opportunity last night. You’re sure you can feel his presence on your skin still. You’re out of focus all day, someone chews you out about it but you don’t remember who.
You only speak to Marco once during the day, about his gear. He makes a comment about your scary eyes, and you retort with a remark about his pathetic soppy puppy eyes and maybe it sounds mean but you don’t mean it meanly, not really. He laughs his golden laugh and you wonder if you should hold his hand, you think maybe it will be warm.
Later you scold yourself for being so pitiful about the whole situation, letting it torment you, and – still mad that Marco has made you mope all day – decide that you should forget about everything that has happened between you and him in that bed and just focus on what you came here for, to become a soldier. You ignore how much his affection has shaken you up.
It’s cold in the barracks again. Cool moonlight lights up one half of Marco’s features. He’s pretty, you think. He’s pretty and he’s a boy and he touched you and kissed you and told you he loved you and suddenly you’re really not sure what to think or what to do.
You fall asleep shivering.