Chapter Text
Their cottage sits on a grassy plain overlooking the ocean. The plain doesn’t erode to a beach, as the shore does a bit down ways, instead the water hits the tiny cliff, sending up a cool spray. It’s summer, their fourth since they’ve left the military and the sixth since the fall of the titans.
Armin straightens out his back and rolls his shoulders to ease the tension that has built while hunched over in the garden. Some of his hair has fallen loose and so he sweeps is up again, streaking it with soil. If it were up to him, he’d chop it off. Maybe he’d even buzz it down a bit at the edges. With a sigh his arms drop to his side.
He knows he won’t cut it, Jean likes it long and Armin likes that Jean likes it. He enjoys having Jean’s fingers in it, in any manner of ways. Playful in the mornings while they get ready, a teasing yank telling Armin to turn his head and accept Jean’s kiss. Gentle in the evenings when they sit at their hearth and Jean brushes it, tangles it up, and brushes it out again. And demanding in the evenings, when they remember their time is fleeting, even without the promise of death that war brings.
The desperate nature of those moments is precious to him, he’s always thought of it as Jean’s way of trying to steal him back from death’s kiss, or to maybe forget death is a lover closer to Armin than Jean could ever be. Mark him, claim him, keep him, worship him. Let him know that he won’t be let go. That Jean won’t leave him, that he won’t relent even in the face of inevitability.
It’s their first true day off in months. After facing the shifters at Shiganshina there hasn’t been much time to rest. They are regrouping while planning their next move. Armin’s been distant in the past few weeks, enough so even Jean feels it through his general social density. The squad has taken up residence at an inn, drinking their reserves dry and breaking furniture as the night progresses. When Armin stands to excuse himself, Jean’s eyes follow until he’s out the door. He chugs the rest of his beer and grabs his jacket as he hurries out after him.
Armin is quicker than he thought, even so Jean sets a course for the barracks. As he approaches Armin’s room he notices the faint flicker of a candle from beneath the door, and then it goes out. For a moment he stops to think that maybe he should leave Armin alone, it is late after all. But there’s a clawing in his chest that misses them. They’d never said they were anything, but the explorative touches in the dark of the supply wagons and stolen kisses when it felt like it was only them in the world - those hadn’t been nothing.
He knows if he doesn’t just go in Armin won’t open the door. It’s with this thought that he enters Armin’s quarters, mindful enough that the door makes no sound. In the darkness Armin sobs, his breath hitching up around his inhales. “Armin,” Jean calls.
There’s a sharp intake of breath. “Jean?” The bedside lamp comes on a moment later, dim, but warm. Armin sits up, dragging the blankets with him. “What are you doing here?”
“I - I just -,” He falters. “I wanted to see you.”
Armin wipes stubbornly at his eyes. “We just saw each other at the pub.”
“I know, but -,” Jean grimaces. Armin is the one between them who can articulate his feelings.
“I - I’m tired. I just want to be alone.” Armin won’t meet his gaze, his eyes search for something to lock onto.
He’s tired of these games, Jean steps forward and comes to his knee at the side of Armin’s bed. He grabs Armin’s forearm, tone from years of training, but still slight by nature. “Why do you keep avoiding me?”
“I’m not,” Armin argues with him, his voice weak from crying.
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
Armin turns to meet Jean’s gaze head on, he shakes his head in defiance. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Prove it.” Jean leans forward, Armin leans away. His hand moves to the back of Armin’s head, it cradles the base of Armin’s skull gently, but with enough strenght to keep Armin from retreating to far.
If Armin wants to resist Jean won’t fight, he’ll drop his hand away and let him. He leans forward again, for a moment Armin presses away, but then he stops. Their lips meet and Armin’s whole body relaxes. Jean’s hands travel under Armin’s sleep shirt, feeling the fit muscles of Armin’s back as he lavishes Armin’s neck with what are sure to be bruises come morning. His mouth drops open for Jean, asking to be ravished. Jean noses up the side of Armin’s face. “I’ve missed you, angel.”
Armin tenses and pushes Jean away. “Don’t.” Armin’s voice is so soft it’s almost a whisper.
“Why?” Jean tries to catch Armin’s gaze. When he can’t he raises his hand to Armin’s chin, trying to coax him into meeting his eyes.
He closes his eyes and shakes off Jean’s touch. “Please.”
Jean’s arms drop to his knee. “Are you angry with me?”
Armin bites his lip, shakes his head
His stomach feels like it will be sick, “Do you - Do you not like me any more?”
“No,” Armin’s voice is urgent, but tight. “Nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?”
Armin doesn’t speak, which is the most frustrating part of this whole exchange. He’s never been the type to hold his tongue when it mattered.
His heart hurts in ways he didn’t even know it could. It splinters down to jagged parts that threaten to rub him raw from the inside out. “I love you,” Jean whispers the words between them like a confession from the grave.
Armin’s lips roll together into a tight line and his eyelids squeeze together. Tears manage to find their way through his lashes as he shakes his head back and forth. A tiered sob escapes him. “No, Jean. Please don’t say that.”
“But, it’s true. I can’t help it.”
Another sob and Armin wipes his eyes. “I - I’m dying, Jean. You can’t love me. I’m only going to hurt you.”
Jean takes Armin’s hand in both of his. He kisses Armin’s fingertips, a calming gesture. His eyes find their way back to Armin’s, blue like the sky. “We’re all in danger of dying Armin. The war isn’t over.” He pauses, “Do you love me?”
Another sob, but Armin nods.
“If I die our next time out on a mission will you regret it? Will you regret loving me?”
“No,” Armin’s answer slips from his throat.
“Then what makes you think I will regret loving you?”
Jean comes up to sit next to Armin on the mattress. “I’ll love you as long as you’ll let me.” He drops his face and kisses away Armin’s tears.
They don’t move, just stare at each other in the dim candle light. Armin moves first, his arms coming up and pulling away as his brain tries to work out what he's about to do. His left hand brushes Jean’s neck, slipping into the collar of his shirt while his right cradles Jean’s head. He pulls him in and kisses him hard.
The kiss deepens as their bodies press tighter together. The urgency in which their mouths meet pulls the air from their lungs and ignites their skin until their intensity burns away everything around them.
“I love you.” Armin sobs as he passes the words in the space between them.
Jean breathes them in, filling himself until he forgets.
Jean steps out of their front door and stops to admire Armin in the garden. He shields his eyes from the sun before wiping away sweat from his brow. He looks so healthy, it’s not fair. Jean had always imagined that Armin would fall ill as the final anniversary of his curse drew near. They’ve known it’s been coming for months, years really. But it’s something they refused to talk about all this time, except in the solemn glances they would catch on each other every now and then, like the one on Jean’s face now.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Armin’s voice cuts through.
His eyes come away from where they had been studying the width of Armin’s ankle. It’s something he’s never noticed before, but seems precious now. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.” Armin frowns. “You’re looking at me like I’m already dead.”
Jean leans against the door jam. “I just think you should be resting. That’s all.”
Armin throws his gloves down as he gets to his feet, “Resting. Telling me to rest.” He grumbles as he pushes Jean aside to move into their house.
He stands over the sink, his fingers gripping the edge as he stares out the window. In the distance he can see where the shore becomes sandy and soft. He loves that part of the beach. They walk there in the evenings, hand in hand, and the cool water foaming at their feet.
“You have to stop doing this,” Armin says when he can feel Jean behind him.
Jean grabs the outside of Armin’s bicep, his nose runs gently along Armin’s nape. “I worry. It’s soon and I just - I -”
“You what?” Armin turns around, allowing Jean’s body to pin him to the sink. “Think if I stay still it won’t happen?”
Jean looks away, he hates fighting about this. “We don’t know-”
“That’s exactly it Jean!” Armin crosses his arms. “We don’t know. I’m the first one that’s going to reach the end of the cycle and nobody knows what that means. Or how it will happen. I know this more than anyone! So, just let me live my damn life however I want until then.”
Jean's mouth goes tight. “It can’t hurt to slow down.”
They stare at each other, the mounting tension and anxiety palpable. Armin lets out a breath. “Why are we fighting?” Armin steps in close, he pushes his head up under Jean’s chin. A moment later Jean’s arms are around him keeping him together when he’s actually seconds away from falling apart.
“You know why.” Jean drops a kiss on Armin’s head.
Armin takes a shuddering breath. He’s already promised himself he wouldn’t cry. He can’t let that be Jean’s last memory of him. “I’m scared, Jean.”
He pulls Armin tighter. Thirteen days, he thinks to himself. He’s guaranteed at least that much.
Eren is nineteen when he turns to Armin and asks him a single favor. “Let’s end this war. Let’s destroy them before my times up. I don’t want to be eaten by a titan. I fought my whole life to destroy them.”
Mikasa’s hand tightens it’s hold on Eren’s. She hasn’t said much since after the last tactical meeting where is was decided that, if it should come to it, if the war should still persist even as Eren approaches death they will pass on the titan curse. He will not live out his natural life, die peacefully and with the dignity he has earned after so many years of trauma. Eren had agreed, he’s a loyal soldier to humanity if nothing else, but it’s not what he wants.
Armin snatches Eren’s other hand, holding it tight between them. He looks his best friend in the eye and promises, “We will. I won’t let them pass it on.”
She dies saving a dead man. When Mikasa falls from the battle, her body going limp from the force of the impact, the battlefield goes quiet. Even their enemies have gone silent knowing that a tremendous force has met it’s end.
The only sounds are the deafening thud as her body hits the ground, followed by her head bouncing off the floor. This woman who had faced death time and time again, had given her last breath to save Eren from a bullet.
Eren hangs from his 3dm gear, shocked. “Mikasa?” His whispered question echoes in the large cavern. “Mikasa?” He says louder, he makes his way to the ground, skidding his knees against rubble as he makes his landing. He cradles her in his arms lifting her chest to his ear.
Armin lands on the opposite side of the cavern. His eyes scan the room as they look for some tangible piece of evidence that this is not happening. Beside him, his hands begin to shake until his blades clatter to the ground and pop out of his gear.. His knees give out under the realization that there is nothing he can do. He’s frozen in his own storm of misery.
Absently, Armin remembers being a child and running alongside Mikasa through the streets of their home town. It’s almost as if it’s happening now. He can hear their laughter over the silence and see three children running through the cavern despite his blurring vision. His tears fall, the children vanish and the laughter gives way to his sobbing.
In the distance Jean calls for him, but he sounds so far away. He’d give anything to be where Jean is, instead of this terrible place where one of his best friend’s has just died.
“Mikasa, please.” Eren grinds the words out through his teeth, he lays her on the ground, and his hands come away covered in blood.
Eren screams, there’s a crack of lightening that blinds the room, followed by the sound of tissue slapping against bone.
There’s a hard slap to his back that knocks the wind out of him when Jean swoops down to scoop him up off the floor.
“Armin!’
The word doesn’t quite make sense.
“Dammit!”
Oh, he’s upset about something. Anger? Concern? Panic? Which one is it?
“We have to get out of here!”
There’s an echoing scream as the cave begins to shake. Eren, of course Eren would go off plan and shift even though he’s been told multiple times shifting would compromise the integrity of the cave. Mikasa usually keeps him out of this kind of trouble.
Armin blinks, the chaos of his surroundings come into focus. Cannons go off in back of the cave in a sorry attempt to stop Eren from destroying the enemy base. Ahead of them their squad mates make their way to the skylight they came in through.
“Jean -”
“Thank fuck. You’re back.”
“The center pillar is going to give. We need to get out of here before the roof collapses.” Armin finds the handles of his gear and sends an anchor point ahead. Jean releases him and Armin, swings through the air towards the skylight.
Another round of cannons go off, this time one misses Eren and flies straight into the central support. A creak echoes through the cave and then slates of rock begin to fall from the ceiling.
Armin breaks through the falling rubble and tumbles to the ground at the top of the skylight. A quick overview of the panting soldiers on the field tells him only half of them made it. He’s just relieved they made it out at all. Armin sits up suddenly, “Jean!”
“Here.”
He turns around and Jean is laying in the grass, a few scratches on his face, but nothing serious. Armin crawls over to him and lays his head on Jean’s heaving chest. The memory of Mikasa falling from the sky comes back and Armin squeezes his eyes tight. “She shouldn’t have died here.”
Jean strokes Armin’s hair. “I know.”
“Out of all of us -” Armin pauses. “She was the only one of the three of us that didn’t have an expiration date. Eren would have most likely healed from a gunshot wound. She didn’t have to -” Armin gasps. “She didn’t have to save him this time, Jean!”
“Shh...” Jean’s breath is soothing. “I would have done the same for you. You can’t tell love what to do.”
Armin presses his face into Jean’s chest. “I wish I could convince you otherwise.”
Jean’s hand stills. “Don’t think too much about it now. Hanji is on her way over. We’ll be people later. We need to be soldiers now.”
Armin shakes his head in acknowledgement, but doesn’t move until Jean hauls him to his feet.
“Armin, Jean,” Hanji forgoes titles. Her face is pinched with hesitation. “Eren hasn’t emerged from the cavern. We need to prepare a retrieval mission for his body and choose a replacement immediately if he doesn’t -”
As if on cue Eren’s titan hand grabs at the ledge of the expanded skylight. Dust from the collapse rises around him as he pulls himself onto the field. He brings his face close to the ground and opens his mouth. Mikasa’s body rolls out onto the field, wet and bloody. Eren’s titan body lets out a cloud of steam as it begins to dissolve, preventing anyone from getting too close.
The cloud clears and Eren sits next to Mikasa, her head and shoulders gathered in his lap. Armin kneels beside him, and turns his face to Eren’s shoulders as new tears spring forth.
“We have to bury her, Armin.”
“Of course.”
Eren’s free arm comes across his chest and grabs Armin’s hand. “I didn’t even see the gun. She was all the way across the -” Eren snarls. “Dammit! She shouldn’t have been there! She shouldn’t have protected me!”
Armin reaches out and thumbs the buzzed hair on the back of Mikasa’s neck. “You can’t tell love what to do, Eren.”
Armin stands at the edge of the water looking out over the ocean. The sun has been hidden by the approaching storm, dimming the world into a melancholy gray. There’s a burst of light and Armin counts until he hears the thunder that follows.
Jean falls in place behind him, his arms wrap around Armin’s stomach covering them both in the blanket he’s dragged from their house. “How far away is it?”
“Less than two miles.”
“Hmm.” Jean rubs his cheek against the top of Armin’s head. “I was calling you from the house.”
Armin leans back into Jean’s chest, “Sorry. I was distracted.”
“It’s okay. Food will get cold if we don’t get inside.”
“You made dinner?” Armin turns to look over this shoulder at Jean.
“You were distracted.”
They both laugh, Armin elbowing Jean in the side.
“Let’s stay a bit longer.”
Jean’s body relaxes around him, pulling Armin closer and embracing him fully. They stare out over the ocean, watching the impending storm approach. The water grows angrier with each passing moment. It jumps up at the edge of the small cliff and mists against Armin’s face.
It’s truly their own little world out there on the cliff. Armin thinks back to the many nights they have spent laid out under the stars. Bare to each other and whatever higher power that there may be. They are his favorite memories by far. This is the home they have built together, far away from the reminders of their youth and the horror that came with it.
“I want to die here.” He doesn’t turn to gage Jean’s reaction when he says it. It’s a conversation they have been putting off for longer than a decade.
Jean’s chin drops to Armin’s shoulder. “Okay.”
Armin takes a deep breath through his nose. “I want to be buried on our property. Ideally right here overlooking the ocean, but I don’t want you to feel disrespectful when you come sit out here. If not here maybe under the tree to the east.”
For a long moment neither of them says anything more. Jean doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s heard Armin. Jean stands up tall, his hands come to Armin’s shoulders. “Do you want a headstone?”
In the distance Armin can just make out rain falling against the water, churning up more violent waves that knock against the shore. “A small one.”
“What should it read?”
“Armin Arlert. Birthday. Deathday.”
“There’s so much more to say about you.”
Armin snorts. “Of course you’d want to argue about my headstone.”
“Only because I’m the one that has to look at it when you’re gone.”
“What would you have it say?”
Jean shifts around him, loosening the blanket to let in a bit of cool air. “Commander Armin Kirschtein. Savior of Humanity. Incomparable friend. Adequate lover. Birthday. Deathday.”
Armin turns to face Jean. “ Adequate lover?”
“I’ve been mostly satisfied.” Armin frowns at him and he laughs. With a light caress of his fingers he pushes Armin’s hair back from his face. “What about the other part?”
“Which part?”
“Armin Kirschtein.”
Armin’s whole face turns red as he looks away.
“It’s nice to know I can still make you blush after all these years.”
“Oh, hush. Besides, if anything it would be Arlert-Kirschtein.”
“Or just Arlert. I’d be fine with that if we had married.”
“Technically we are.”
Jean’s eyes widen. “What?”
“Common law. We’ve lived together for four years. Technically we’re married by default. We just never filed paperwork to change your name.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was important?”
Jean rolls his eyes. “You. Only you would think that.” He leans down and kisses Armin hard. “Armin Kirschtein. Mr. Kirschtein.”
Armin pushes Jean away by his chest when he feels Jean’s hardness pressing into his hip. “You’re insatiable.”
“Only for you.” Jean kisses Armin’s neck. “You’re blushing. Commander Kirschtein.”
“Shut up,” Armin says half heartedly. “Besides I’m older. You’d take my last name.”
Jean stops. The storm is close. “I don’t mind. We belong to each other.”
Armin pushes up on his toes and kisses him. “So, should I call you Squad Leader Arlert?”
Jean scoops Armin up just at the storm hits. He rushes them back inside to the warmth of their house. Despite his earlier reminder, their food goes cold.
The curtains are drawn in Armin’s room at the barracks. A soft light filters through the linen casting a golden tint across Jean’s skin. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, almost like the young man he was before they first saw true carnage. A mere boy then and a man of twenty-four years now. Armin reaches out his hand and runs the knuckle of his finger over the bridge of Jean’s nose.
Jean stirs next to him, his eyebrows pull together making three tight lines on his forehead. Armin snuggles in closer, his palm covering Jean’s exposed cheek. Jean whines at the touch, but pushes his cheek into Armin’s hand anyway. His head turns and he kisses Armin’s palm before reluctantly sliding his eyes open.
“I missed you,” Armin whispers into the stillness. Jean blinks at him, too tired from traveling the day before and insisting on staying up until the early hours of the morning to properly reacquaint himself with Armin.
“I missed you, too,” he finally says once he’s stretched. “It’s good to be home.”
Armin closes his eyes to frame what he wants to say. He can’t tell Jean that all he can think about when he’s away for months at a time is that there’s only four years left before the thirteen year cycle ends. Of course he has his work to keep him distracted, their small group of friends to be with, but it’s all so lacking without him there.
“Do you ever think about where home could be?”
“What do you mean?”
Armin shrugs. “The barracks aren’t much of a home. Just a dorm really. We don’t even share the same room technically.”
“We’re right down the hall from each other.”
“I know. It would just be nice for you to come home to our home. Not the shared home of us and three squads.”
Jean props himself up on his side. “That will only happen if we retire from the military.”
“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”
He levels his gaze at Jean and watches as the gears turn in his head. “Okay.”
“Really?” Armin smiles, bringing himself to his elbows.
“Yes. If you wanted me all to yourself you could have just asked.”
Armin kisses his teeth and throws a pillow at Jean’s chest.