The slow moan of the heavy old door as it swung wide sang out the arrival of a visitor.
A face familiar to these walls stood in the doorway, as if waiting for an invitation, but the ancient house made no attempt to make him feel at all welcome.
The figure seemed to hesitate a moment before stepping inside, the steady clack clack of a brass-tipped cane resonating wherever it alighted, kicking up tiny storms of dust on the wood as Jean made his way to the center of the room. Once there, he stilled for a moment before turning towards the blackened window pane, as visions of the Battle for Trost flashed through his memory.
He had sought refuge in this house during the battle. It was the last place he'd seen Marco alive. He remembered...
Suddenly, as if summoned by his thoughts, a pair of sinewy arms wrapped around Jean's waist from behind. He didn't flinch.
"I've been waiting for you, you know."
His voice...
Jean dipped his head to hide the relief dancing across his wrinkled features.
"I would have come sooner, but I didn't want to come until I knew I could stay."
A light chuckle.
"I would have told you to leave, anyway. The ruins of Trost District are no place for you."
No place for the living.
He could feel the warm-cold wisp of breath on his ear. Could see the sun-kissed and star-freckled hands as they rested on his abdomen. The same hands that haunted his heart and soul every night since that night, unrelenting even while Jean slept with another man in his arms.
The knuckles that gripped his cane turned white from the effort to remain standing upright. Reluctantly, Jean shakily pulled away from the embrace to take a seat at the abandoned table, turning to face Marco at last.
His face...
He was the same. Unchanged. Perfect. A glistening Adonis. Just as beautiful as the day he saved Jean's life and became his holy savior and idol for eternity. Because he could never let him go.
Marco's deep eyes watched Jean intensely, wordlessly, a small grin playing across his thin mouth.
"So... what did I miss?"
The silence of the room, of the forgotten volumes on shelves and cobwebbed chairs, reverberated through Jean's brain as he moved to rest his elbows on his knees. A few minutes passed between them before the elder finally spoke.
"Ackerman was given a government job after the war. For awhile she was one of the elite leaders of the first post-Titan expeditions outside the walls, to survey potential locales for human settlement... " Jean stared at his feet.
"After the Exodus, I'm pretty sure she worked in public administration in mountain settlements. Jaeger and the Corporal disappeared not too long after Mikasa's first expedition out. Some say they went north," Jean smirked, running a hand through his silver-gray hair. Remembering his former fondness for his past rival and his step-sister, as well as the smallest, fairest member of the trio from Shiganshina, was something he hadn't done in a long time. Usually when he reminisced, he thought solely of one boy in particular; the memories he recalled were of missed chances, lost kisses, touches and whispers and pressing bodies and fingers tangled in dark hair in the pitch black of midnight that they'd never, never experience... and a life that was stolen from both of them much too quickly.
Then there was Armin.
"Arlert... and I... we went to the ocean."
Jean inhaled a sharp breath. He could feel Marco's eyes burning into him. He dared not look.
"Arlert was a great... source of comfort for me after the failure of the 57th Expedition," Jean rubbed his tired eyes. "When I took him as a lover, I swore I'd do right by him and make him an honest and happy man. I married him, and provided for him... we built a house for us to call our own. Out in the world. We were... content."
Why am I telling him this?
It was as if he was confessing. His final confession. It felt like he had been unfaithful to Marco, somehow. He felt guilty for moving on. Yet, he was sure he hadn't ever truly moved on. He had always wished it was Marco.
Jean had always planned on returning to him.
"But he wasn't you."
His voice shook and he held his head in his hands. He felt Marco take his spotted hands into his own gentle, never-aging grasp.
"He passed away some years ago." Jean lamented, rubbing the bridge of his nose to try to alleviate the pressure between his eyes.
"I never got to tell you... we never... " his voice trailed off. He shook his head. Marco smiled. His freckles glittered like fireflies or stars or...
"You have a thousand years to tell me."
Jean hadn't realized he was crying until a single tear rolled down his cheek, landing soundlessly onto his thigh, leaving a black mark like a scar on his cotton slacks. Seeing the spot, he sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. As if his very soul was a candle down to the wick.
"Marco... when I pass on, will my spirit be young again... like you?"
Marco only smiled in response.
The ex-soldier grunted, shifting his weight. His body felt disconnected from his own existence; all he could feel was Marco's hands on his own, a pair of lips on his forehead, a pair of lips on his cheek. Jean tilted his head back and focused his glassy gaze on the beams, away from the boy. His head throbbed. His bones creaked. His vision blurred.
"This place gives me a headache. I'm going to rest my eyes for a bit."
Without looking at his love, he languidly closed his heavy eyelids and finally let sleep overtake him.
AN: Jean and Marco always knew of their love for one another, yet they never got the chance to confess or even consummate their relationship before it was too late... the utterly demanding and public lifestyle of living in the barracks never even gave them a chance to have any private time to themselves. Imagine going your whole life without ever having had the chance to make love to your one true soulmate before he died...
I have died everyday waiting for you,
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you
For a thousand years,
I'll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed I would find you,
Time has brought your heart to me,
I have loved you for a thousand years,
I'll love you for a thousand more
( If you listen closely, you can hear the sound of my heart breaking TT_TT )