[Finnick's lips press firm against his knuckles. Eren is grateful. It's overwhelming. It feels human; he feels human, or...at least right now, and the other night, and the night he killed Finnick, and the moment he saw him again, and that night at the bar, and the last two days, spent pacing his apartment, waiting for a text or call.
["I want to stay with you," Finnick says, and Eren wants it too - badly. Hell, he wouldn't mind if the bastard moved in. "For however long you're here." It's all temporary.
[That's why Eren can have this. It won't last, and when he leaves, he'll die, and he won't have to feel this terrible longing for all that he's lost.
[It's a lose-lose, but Eren can paint it as a win if he tries. He just wants to wake up to the sun through his window, shining light on a too-handsome face.]
[He wants to kiss Eren so badly. He won't. He doesn't want to fuck this up.
[Instead, he chuckles lightly.]
You're gonna regret saying that. I'll give it a week until you're sick of me.
[He holds fast to Eren's big hand, pulling it down further into his lap to make Eren lean over toward him slightly. He'll take any part of him he can get.
[He doesn't know what it is about Eren. Maybe he's attracted to cold people because it's a fun challenge to warm them up. Maybe Eren intrigues him, the stormcloud of mystery that surrounds him. Maybe he wants to look out for him, protect him.
But there's also just something about the way the air feels electrically charged, not just when he's near, but even speaking over text. There's something indescribable about it. It feels like he can't get enough.]
But this is nice.
[He smiles, says goodnight to the sun as the last sliver of orange slips under the covers of the lake. The beach is cooling, quieting. It's just them.]
[It's electric. It's addictive. Right now, it feels all-consuming. Eren wants to drown in Finnick's ocean. He doesn't want to feel anything else. He's right there. The beach is quiet. People pass by in fewer numbers on the street, and the breeze is so pleasantly warm in this perpetual summer, humidity making his lips feel wetter.]
I'm not exactly the type to get sick of people. [If only Finnick knew how true that was. He thinks of Reiner Braun.
[Shuts that down right away. Not now. Not ever. Not him.
[Finnick Odair, and this warm summer air, their hands intertwined.
[He's brought Eren in closer, closer. Eren's kiss is quick and all too fleeting, but he gets to taste that sweet, kind, laughing mouth with just the smallest tug of bottom lip.]
It's late now...[They haven't even touched the wine past that first sip. Wasted credits? Eren's glad he isn't drunk.]
[The kiss is quick and sweet and tastes like more. But Finnick can be patient.]
No? Even the ones who annoy you on purpose?
[There must be some reason Eren keeps talking to him, keeps coming back, but Finnick can't fathom what it is. He realizes he has no fucking clue what Eren likes about him, and it's not like he's going to ask. Maybe Finnick's just a warm body. He hopes not. God, he hopes not.]
You're welcome to come back to my place, but no pressure.
[They've hardly touched the wine, and Finnick, oddly, doesn't even want to. He doesn't feel the same compulsion and need for alcohol that he did before. If Eren decides to go home, he'll probably drink, to force himself to fall asleep, but if Eren stays, he won't have that problem.]
the co-dependency begins (as if it hadn't already)
[At Finnick's little joke, Eren has to drop his head a bit to hide the way the corners of his mouth ever-so-slightly lift; maybe it's not enough to notice at all, but he feels like smiling. He keeps his tone controlled, at least.]
Believe it or not, I'm used to it. [Leave it at that, but, as always, he's thinking of Them. At this moment in particular, it's Jean Kirstein on his mind, with their terrible, hollow rivalry, a poorly hidden excuse for being close without having to admit they cared about each other. They spent an awful lot of time annoying each other on purpose. Eren remembers well the tailored goodbye he crafted for his dear friend.
[They'll never trade amicable blows again; only fatal ones.
[Finnick wants him to come back to his place. Eren's never been. It doesn't matter. His apartment isn't any more of a home than Finnick's will be. If there's a bed to share, he wants to go.]
I'll come.
uh yeah did someone order a uhaul its under the name odair
[In the quickly fading light, is that a small smile Eren's trying to hide?
No, must be a trick of the shadows.]
I believe it. You make it too easy.
[He smiles at Eren's agreement, finds his shirt to put on because it's cooling off, not because he's trying to be decent or anything absurd like that. He's found the strategy of bunching the fabric up around the neckline and putting it over his head, then threading his arms through, tends to work best. He shakes off his towel and slings it over his shoulder, leaving the wine for Eren to grab so that Finnick can hold his hand.
It's not a long walk to Finnick's. He intentionally got a place as near as he could to the lake, and he's grateful every day that he did. Upon entering, it's similarly small and as simple as Eren's in terms of furniture, but every surface has a smattering of seashells, seaglass, bits of driftwood, and interesting rocks smoothed by the ocean. Most taken from the last amplitheater, some from the shore of the lake. On his wall, there's a complex woven tapestry of dried seaweed, and another of colourful rope braided into a spiral. On his table still lies a bunch of little half-finished projects of a similar nature from when he had both hands, including a piece of driftwood turned horizontal and tied with a curtain of several descending fishing lines wrapped around pieces seaglass, meant to be a suncatcher. There are a few empty liquor bottles around, and there's a weird amount of seaweed in his kitchen, too, upon inspection. There's a table lamp already on when they come in, and he turns on another standing lamp (also averse to the big light).]
Be right back.
[He goes to his room to throw his damp towel over the door to dry, and changes from swim shorts into sweatpants, then returns.]
[Eren did not expect to hold Finnick Odair's hand as they walked back to his apartment. It feels foolish and childish, embarrassing, undignified; Eren doesn't let go. Finnick's fingers are calloused from work, while Eren's are soft and pristine despite. They feel nice together. He finds himself squeezing periodically when he starts thinking to hard about it, his gaze cast in another direction, away from Finnick's face and off down the street instead...
[They make it to Finnick's apartment, and it looks like a home. Ocean-themed decor - collected by hand, if Eren had to guess - covers what feels like every inch of space (if only by comparison to Eren's blank, empty walls).
[Despite it all, Finnick still holds things like joy in his heart. Eren can picture him stopping along the shore (in his mind, they're still holding hands as they do now), yanking Eren off toward some shiny rock that means absolutely nothing to him - everything in the world to the man whose eyes reflect that terrible ocean.
[Eren wishes he would give him one to take home.
[Finnick leaves to change before Eren can steal a kiss, and it leaves him feeling antsy and uncertain, their fingers no longer intertwined. Eren explores the small apartment in Finnick's absence, observing the shells, the sea glass, the...strange fishing line construction that looks almost like a wind chime, but...not quite?
[Finnick returns, and Eren turns to face him.]
Finnick. I don't suppose you have a conch shell?
[His tone is even, betraying no particular emotion one way or another; his chest is tight, squeezing, burning. He's not quite sure why he asked. He'd just like to see one if Finnick has one.]
[As Finnick pads back out to Eren in bare feet, the guy asks him very seriously about a conch shell. He grins- it's random, and funny, and:]
Of course I do.
[He hums and looks around for it, not sure exactly where he put it.]
Ah.
[He shuffles over to one of his end-tables and picks it up, bringing it to Eren. It's about the length of his palm, light and shiny and pink. Beautiful. He holds it up toward Eren, turning it in the dim light, his face alight as he looks at it.]
[Finnick looks at that conch shell just the same way Armin did, but it's a different shell - different color, size, shape; not so raw, not so ugly, not so sharp.
[Eren can see that glimmer of hope in Finnick's eyes, and it's too much like the way Armin looked when he held up that conch shell between his hands, trying to show Eren the beauty of the dream they'd realized; Eren turned away.]
No. [But, before Finnick can get too disappointed:] A different one. Not a conch.
You choose.
[Finnick isn't Armin. Eren doesn't want him to be.]
[Finnick frowns for just a moment, then gets excited again. He gets to choose- that's a better idea. More fun.]
Okay! Does it have to be a shell, or...?
[He's looking around already, carefully examining all his finds. Seaglass is Finnick's favourite, so he'll probably pick one of those pieces... Or maybe it should be something that represents Eren somehow, or something that reminds Finnick of him... Oh, decisions... He wishes he could just make Eren a piece of jewelry or art. Not just a simple object that was found; something he himself invested time and thought into. Unfortunately, that's not easy right now, but he promises himself someday he'll get some kind of prosthetic and figure out how he can do it.]
[Finnick and Eren agreed earlier that Finnick is a "dog person".
[That appears to be accurate. He may as well be wagging his tail right now.
[Finnick begins looking around before Eren can even answer his question. It's exceedingly charming. Eren wants to smile again. With Finnick's back turned, he can't be quite sure whether he has or not. The muscles in his face never move all that much, after all...]
I want you to choose.
I don't care what it is.
[It feels a bit silly - like they're playing some kind of game right now, Eren teasing Finnick toward finding the correct solution. He forces himself not to mind, not to question. He wants Finnick's token. He has the rope - spent hours upon hours upon hours tying and untying knots while he waited to see if Finnick would text first...
[He wants more too. His apartment may well be filled one day with sea glass. He pictures again that imaginary scene with Finnick and he on the beach, and Finnick finding something that he considers important. Eren can practically feel the object being pressed into his palm.]
[Finnick nods, his excitement tempering as he slows down to really pore over the options. He isn't thinking of this as a test, rather an opportunity to express how he feels about Eren. While Finnick's love language is certainly touch, if ocean-related gifts were a language, that would be a close second. There are other ways to show love than by touching, and he wants to focus on those, wants Eren not to doubt for a second Finnick's intentions.
Instead of thinking about Eren's potential preferences, he picks up each piece and remembers what beach he was on when he picked it up, what the weather was like, what his mood was, what he was thinking about at the time. He thinks about how hard seaglass can be to find, because you have to look very closely in order to discern it from the rocks, especially if it's white or brown, and especially if it's wet. That's what Eren is like; at first you think he's a rock, but if you squint, you see the small gleam of light reflecting off of it.
So seaglass it is. He chooses his prized piece and goes back to Eren.]
The most common colours of seaglass are brown, white, and green. That's because most glass bottles are manufactured in those colours. Blue is more rare, at least in my world. But red is the most rare and special, because it's said to only come from the lights of ships and lighthouses when they break and fall into the water.
[He holds up a small triangle of red glass, worn and smooth and porous from the sea.]
This one is so smooth, it must have been in there for a long time. Maybe a century. Maybe many centuries. Think about it. A ship 200 years ago sunk, one of the lights broke, and that glass rolled around, was swept up by currents, washed by waves, churned in the sand, probably travelled hundreds of miles... To end up at my feet, on the beach, on a day I just so happened to take a look. It's such a rare coincidence that it feels like magic.
It's kind of like how, across the universe, or millions, trillions of universes, after being churned out by our own unique seas, we both ended up here, on this beach, meeting each other. That chance, I would say, is even smaller than finding red.
[Plus, it was cloudy and rainy on the day he found this, which made it harder to see. Like how he and Eren were both steeped in misery when they met, wearing their masks, unable to tell if the other was a common rock or a dazzling piece of glass.
He smiles, holds it out in offering.]
Any beach comber knows that if you find blue or red you never let it go. But I'll make an exception. Just because I know you'll keep it safe.
[Eren hadn't ever heard of sea glass before now; Finnick's explanation is certainly an introduction. He makes something as simple as a rounded piece of trash sound like the most profound thing in the universe; with Finnick explaining, Eren almost believes it.
[Then Finnick starts talking about magic, happenstance, and Them - as rare and precious as red seaglass, broken so long ago from what it once was, then made into something...
[Beautiful. Eren takes the smoothed glass into his hand, fingers running delicately over it, as if Eren's touch at all would cause it to shatter. Oddly enough, though, this "glass" doesn't seem at all prone to breaking.
[What exactly is Finnick letting go of? Eren feels more tethered than ever. He forgets to steel his face as he watches the glass, turning it over now between his hands. He looks...somewhere between puzzled and sad, but it's a gentle expression all the same, somehow.
[When did this happen? How did this happen? Is this what Finnick thinks of Eren? Something broken, then made beautiful over time? He couldn't be more wrong...
[In some ways, Eren is more honest with Finnick than he is with anyone; in other ways, he's never been more of a liar.
[His voice comes out quiet. He's still looking at the glass.]
I've become important to you. [He almost says it like he's sorry.]
[Eren doesn't scoff, or act like Finnick is just some corny dumbass, which is a relief, because he sort of is a corny dumbass, so that reaction would be kind of fair.
He looks like he understands the weight of the gift, or is at least trying to. Quietly, gently, he answers:]
Of course you have. You're special, and rare, and I found you despite all odds.
[He pokes the glass, making the connection solid that the red piece represents Eren, in case it wasn't totally clear.]
[Eren hasn't wanted to be special for a long time. When Shadis told him that story about Eren's parents, he walked away feeling different; in ways, better, and in other ways, worse. He learned the truth of the future shortly after that. He'd never wanted to be less special, less rare, less seen...
[Finnick's final words give Eren pause, and God he wants to laugh, or at least smile - this cheeky little shit, grinning, winking, calling him pretty like Eren's some girl in Finnick's Cadet Corps...
[He settles for pointedly closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, clearly affected by the comment in a way that he hopes conveys at least some vague amusement.
[He puts the seaglass in his pocket.
[If there were any doubts about his affections after all that, he decides to put them to rest. He takes Finnick's knuckles and brings them to his lips again just briefly; after that, a kiss to that lips - slow, warm, weighted - all of the affection and longing and pitiful loneliness that he's been holding in since the last time they were alone like this...
[He'll have to get Finnick something too. He's never been all that good at gifts.]
[Maybe Finnick will never make Eren Jaeger laugh. Maybe it isn't even possible. But he's never going to stop trying, not in a million years. When he truly wants something, Finnick Odair is one persistent little shit.
The kiss he's been craving for hours-- No, days-- relaxes him immediately. He closes his eyes and smiles into it, accepting this as Eren's way of saying how he feels- about the gift, about Finnick. His hand finds Eren's waist, gently pulling him a little closer. It's slow, deep, long. It feels meaningful. He could live in it forever.]
[Eren's entire body sighs. It's relief. He cups Finnick's face with one hand, the other wrapping strongly around his back. Eren's not as shy as he was a few nights ago; not now that he knows what he's been missing out on. The kiss isn't "hungry" in that it's a lustful thing, but it is certainly reaching, reaching, reaching for more, just...the sort of more that makes Finnick talk about seaglass, not the sort that takes him to bed; that's all.
[It takes an awfully long time for Eren to break away. Once he does, he's breathless, and then he's kissing Finnick again, again, again...
[His mind feels blank and clear. There's only this sensation - Finnick's lips, warm on his; Finnick's seaglass, warm in his pocket. Eren doesn't take it anywhere beyond a kiss, but if Finnick wants him to lead, then he'll also have to be the one to break the silence first. This is why he kisses Finnick's knuckles on the beach. He couldn't pull himself away if he tried.]
[He feels Eren relax, feels his hands on Finnick's face and body, feels the need in his movements, though it seems like more of a need for closeness rather than anything sexual.
The way the kiss affects Eren, the way Finnick is now practically being smothered with his affection; it's what he needed. Proof that this dead-eyed man was actually affected by anything Finnick ever did or said. That the night they shared isn't going to be forgotten or ignored. Rather, it'll stretch out into many nights to come, hopefully.
He laughs very gently at how clingy Eren becomes.]
You're cute. C'mon.
[He leads him by the hand to his bedroom, lying next to him in bed with no intention of doing anything but pulling him as close as possible. He tangles himself into Eren just like they did last time. They continue to kiss, and kiss, and kiss. Instead of turning into heat and urgency, though, it makes Finnick relaxed and sleepy, until his kisses begin to weaken and space out, his breathing slowing.]
[Finnick calls Eren cute, and his brows sharply point down in a glare, but it's a bewildered expression more than anything. He's taken by the hand and led toward the bedroom before he can form some type of response, because how the hell is he supposed to respond to something like that? He's not cute, actually. Finnick can be a real idiot sometimes...
[His face is obnoxiously warm.
[The sin is quickly forgotten. Eren and Finnick are intertwined with each other once again. Eren's grateful for the kissing, if only because it means he doesn't have to try forming words when his brain is already at its absolute limit for Finnick's romantic charisma. He feels totally out of his element, here...
[So, they kiss until it doesn't matter. They kiss until Eren forgets entirely to question it. His mind is blank. His chest is warm. His fingers run trails up and down Finnick's spine, flatten out over his shoulder blades, curl around the fabric of his shirt; this, too, is more Chastity than Lust. He just wants to touch with as much of himself as he can at once. If he weren't so distracted, his mind would be reeling, and dangerously so. It's too much too fast, isn't it? It's too intense, too euphoric, too good for Eren to touch, but here they are, and he can't stop, won't stop, doesn't want to, doesn't want to...
[Their kisses slow, their breaths slow, their heartbeats slow. Eren doesn't know how long they've been lying here. The realization dawns on him that he's tired, and that soon he'll be able to sleep. He wonders how Finnick did sleeping alone the last few nights. Eren didn't sleep at all.
[They have to stop kissing eventually. Eren pulls away, fearing that the world will finally come crashing down; it didn't the first night they spent together. He watches Finnick with searching green eyes; just as with the first time they touched like this, they don't look so dull as they usually do...
[What can he say? It feels he should say something.
[Maybe not. Maybe it's better that things are kept silent. Maybe Finnick will say something instead. He can't be sure. He doesn't really care. He's watching Finnick's eyes. He doesn't feel any urgency for that to end.
[Eventually, all he manages to breathe, embarrassingly, is:] Hey...
[Eren clearly hates being called cute, and Finnick doesn't care. Just another way he can annoy him, he notes to himself.
Finnick purposely lays on his right side so that his good arm is on top, free to rub Eren's back, caress his shoulders and sides, soothe him with gentle movements. He wants the other man to feel safe with him, and that's what comes across in each touch, rather than any sexual intent.
As the kisses and warmth soothe Finnick, his eyelids become heavier and fall shut, and it takes a moment after the kisses stop for him to feel Eren's stare. He blinks his eyes open to look at Eren's intent expression, similar to the other night. Finally, at his breathy greeting, Finnick smiles knowingly and gives his own, stroking his cheek and his hair.]
Hey. How you doing?
[Eren says so little, it's impossible to ever know exactly what's going on in his head. It worries Finnick a bit, that Eren might not tell him if something was wrong. He knows he won't get a straight answer now, considering he never has gotten one to such a question in the past, but he still has to ask.]
[Finnick loves to ask questions that Eren can't quite answer; it's terribly loaded. Eren wonders if Finnick knows. Maybe he's trying to get under his skin - to decipher something that he thinks he sees, but can't quite figure out, or--
[Or...maybe he just wants to know how Eren's feeling. Unfortunately for Finnick, Eren's never been good at articulating that sort of thing. His stare endures as he tries to work through a response in his kiss-foggy mind.]
Tired. [An honest answer. He really doesn't like to lie to him; just tired of lying in general, maybe. He didn't used to be all too good at that either; maybe he still isn't.
[Can Finnick tell that he hasn't slept...?
[Has Finnick?
[Eren shifts where he lies.] Come here...[A murmur. He pushes himself up a couple of inches on the mattress, then guides Finnick's head to his chest. He can fall asleep to a heartbeat tonight; Eren's personal favorite.
[Finnick's been in charge of quite enough tonight (belatedly, Eren is realizing that his blond-haired companion had him completely wrapped around his finger with that wine errand). Eren rests a hand over the nape of Finnick's neck, the other resting on the man's hip.]
I ought to tell you what it means...[Another murmur. Eren's curls more firmly around Finnick's nape.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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["I want to stay with you," Finnick says, and Eren wants it too - badly. Hell, he wouldn't mind if the bastard moved in. "For however long you're here." It's all temporary.
[That's why Eren can have this. It won't last, and when he leaves, he'll die, and he won't have to feel this terrible longing for all that he's lost.
[It's a lose-lose, but Eren can paint it as a win if he tries. He just wants to wake up to the sun through his window, shining light on a too-handsome face.]
Alright.
Do that, then. [...] You have my permission.
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[Instead, he chuckles lightly.]
You're gonna regret saying that. I'll give it a week until you're sick of me.
[He holds fast to Eren's big hand, pulling it down further into his lap to make Eren lean over toward him slightly. He'll take any part of him he can get.
[He doesn't know what it is about Eren. Maybe he's attracted to cold people because it's a fun challenge to warm them up. Maybe Eren intrigues him, the stormcloud of mystery that surrounds him. Maybe he wants to look out for him, protect him.
But there's also just something about the way the air feels electrically charged, not just when he's near, but even speaking over text. There's something indescribable about it. It feels like he can't get enough.]
But this is nice.
[He smiles, says goodnight to the sun as the last sliver of orange slips under the covers of the lake. The beach is cooling, quieting. It's just them.]
Thanks for coming.
reiner is the dude in the icon btw lmao
I'm not exactly the type to get sick of people. [If only Finnick knew how true that was. He thinks of Reiner Braun.
[Shuts that down right away. Not now. Not ever. Not him.
[Finnick Odair, and this warm summer air, their hands intertwined.
[He's brought Eren in closer, closer. Eren's kiss is quick and all too fleeting, but he gets to taste that sweet, kind, laughing mouth with just the smallest tug of bottom lip.]
It's late now...[They haven't even touched the wine past that first sip. Wasted credits? Eren's glad he isn't drunk.]
cw alcohol use/abuse
No? Even the ones who annoy you on purpose?
[There must be some reason Eren keeps talking to him, keeps coming back, but Finnick can't fathom what it is. He realizes he has no fucking clue what Eren likes about him, and it's not like he's going to ask. Maybe Finnick's just a warm body. He hopes not. God, he hopes not.]
You're welcome to come back to my place, but no pressure.
[They've hardly touched the wine, and Finnick, oddly, doesn't even want to. He doesn't feel the same compulsion and need for alcohol that he did before. If Eren decides to go home, he'll probably drink, to force himself to fall asleep, but if Eren stays, he won't have that problem.]
the co-dependency begins (as if it hadn't already)
Believe it or not, I'm used to it. [Leave it at that, but, as always, he's thinking of Them. At this moment in particular, it's Jean Kirstein on his mind, with their terrible, hollow rivalry, a poorly hidden excuse for being close without having to admit they cared about each other. They spent an awful lot of time annoying each other on purpose. Eren remembers well the tailored goodbye he crafted for his dear friend.
[They'll never trade amicable blows again; only fatal ones.
[Finnick wants him to come back to his place. Eren's never been. It doesn't matter. His apartment isn't any more of a home than Finnick's will be. If there's a bed to share, he wants to go.]
I'll come.
uh yeah did someone order a uhaul its under the name odair
No, must be a trick of the shadows.]
I believe it. You make it too easy.
[He smiles at Eren's agreement, finds his shirt to put on because it's cooling off, not because he's trying to be decent or anything absurd like that. He's found the strategy of bunching the fabric up around the neckline and putting it over his head, then threading his arms through, tends to work best. He shakes off his towel and slings it over his shoulder, leaving the wine for Eren to grab so that Finnick can hold his hand.
It's not a long walk to Finnick's. He intentionally got a place as near as he could to the lake, and he's grateful every day that he did. Upon entering, it's similarly small and as simple as Eren's in terms of furniture, but every surface has a smattering of seashells, seaglass, bits of driftwood, and interesting rocks smoothed by the ocean. Most taken from the last amplitheater, some from the shore of the lake. On his wall, there's a complex woven tapestry of dried seaweed, and another of colourful rope braided into a spiral. On his table still lies a bunch of little half-finished projects of a similar nature from when he had both hands, including a piece of driftwood turned horizontal and tied with a curtain of several descending fishing lines wrapped around pieces seaglass, meant to be a suncatcher. There are a few empty liquor bottles around, and there's a weird amount of seaweed in his kitchen, too, upon inspection. There's a table lamp already on when they come in, and he turns on another standing lamp (also averse to the big light).]
Be right back.
[He goes to his room to throw his damp towel over the door to dry, and changes from swim shorts into sweatpants, then returns.]
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[They make it to Finnick's apartment, and it looks like a home. Ocean-themed decor - collected by hand, if Eren had to guess - covers what feels like every inch of space (if only by comparison to Eren's blank, empty walls).
[Despite it all, Finnick still holds things like joy in his heart. Eren can picture him stopping along the shore (in his mind, they're still holding hands as they do now), yanking Eren off toward some shiny rock that means absolutely nothing to him - everything in the world to the man whose eyes reflect that terrible ocean.
[Eren wishes he would give him one to take home.
[Finnick leaves to change before Eren can steal a kiss, and it leaves him feeling antsy and uncertain, their fingers no longer intertwined. Eren explores the small apartment in Finnick's absence, observing the shells, the sea glass, the...strange fishing line construction that looks almost like a wind chime, but...not quite?
[Finnick returns, and Eren turns to face him.]
Finnick. I don't suppose you have a conch shell?
[His tone is even, betraying no particular emotion one way or another; his chest is tight, squeezing, burning. He's not quite sure why he asked. He'd just like to see one if Finnick has one.]
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Of course I do.
[He hums and looks around for it, not sure exactly where he put it.]
Ah.
[He shuffles over to one of his end-tables and picks it up, bringing it to Eren. It's about the length of his palm, light and shiny and pink. Beautiful. He holds it up toward Eren, turning it in the dim light, his face alight as he looks at it.]
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[It's not bleeding.
[Eren observes it for a few long moments.]
It's different than the ones I've seen.
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[He tilts his head, looking at Eren curiously.]
Why'd you want to see a conch in particular?
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[Not a lie:] It's the first sort I ever saw.
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Well, that's significant. You want this one?
[Finnick raises it up a little more, looking at his face hopefully. It's clear Eren's answer to this will matter to him a lot.]
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No. [But, before Finnick can get too disappointed:] A different one. Not a conch.
You choose.
[Finnick isn't Armin. Eren doesn't want him to be.]
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Okay! Does it have to be a shell, or...?
[He's looking around already, carefully examining all his finds. Seaglass is Finnick's favourite, so he'll probably pick one of those pieces... Or maybe it should be something that represents Eren somehow, or something that reminds Finnick of him... Oh, decisions... He wishes he could just make Eren a piece of jewelry or art. Not just a simple object that was found; something he himself invested time and thought into. Unfortunately, that's not easy right now, but he promises himself someday he'll get some kind of prosthetic and figure out how he can do it.]
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[That appears to be accurate. He may as well be wagging his tail right now.
[Finnick begins looking around before Eren can even answer his question. It's exceedingly charming. Eren wants to smile again. With Finnick's back turned, he can't be quite sure whether he has or not. The muscles in his face never move all that much, after all...]
I want you to choose.
I don't care what it is.
[It feels a bit silly - like they're playing some kind of game right now, Eren teasing Finnick toward finding the correct solution. He forces himself not to mind, not to question. He wants Finnick's token. He has the rope - spent hours upon hours upon hours tying and untying knots while he waited to see if Finnick would text first...
[He wants more too. His apartment may well be filled one day with sea glass. He pictures again that imaginary scene with Finnick and he on the beach, and Finnick finding something that he considers important. Eren can practically feel the object being pressed into his palm.]
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Instead of thinking about Eren's potential preferences, he picks up each piece and remembers what beach he was on when he picked it up, what the weather was like, what his mood was, what he was thinking about at the time. He thinks about how hard seaglass can be to find, because you have to look very closely in order to discern it from the rocks, especially if it's white or brown, and especially if it's wet. That's what Eren is like; at first you think he's a rock, but if you squint, you see the small gleam of light reflecting off of it.
So seaglass it is. He chooses his prized piece and goes back to Eren.]
The most common colours of seaglass are brown, white, and green. That's because most glass bottles are manufactured in those colours. Blue is more rare, at least in my world. But red is the most rare and special, because it's said to only come from the lights of ships and lighthouses when they break and fall into the water.
[He holds up a small triangle of red glass, worn and smooth and porous from the sea.]
This one is so smooth, it must have been in there for a long time. Maybe a century. Maybe many centuries. Think about it. A ship 200 years ago sunk, one of the lights broke, and that glass rolled around, was swept up by currents, washed by waves, churned in the sand, probably travelled hundreds of miles... To end up at my feet, on the beach, on a day I just so happened to take a look. It's such a rare coincidence that it feels like magic.
It's kind of like how, across the universe, or millions, trillions of universes, after being churned out by our own unique seas, we both ended up here, on this beach, meeting each other. That chance, I would say, is even smaller than finding red.
[Plus, it was cloudy and rainy on the day he found this, which made it harder to see. Like how he and Eren were both steeped in misery when they met, wearing their masks, unable to tell if the other was a common rock or a dazzling piece of glass.
He smiles, holds it out in offering.]
Any beach comber knows that if you find blue or red you never let it go. But I'll make an exception. Just because I know you'll keep it safe.
[He winks.]
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[Then Finnick starts talking about magic, happenstance, and Them - as rare and precious as red seaglass, broken so long ago from what it once was, then made into something...
[Beautiful. Eren takes the smoothed glass into his hand, fingers running delicately over it, as if Eren's touch at all would cause it to shatter. Oddly enough, though, this "glass" doesn't seem at all prone to breaking.
[What exactly is Finnick letting go of? Eren feels more tethered than ever. He forgets to steel his face as he watches the glass, turning it over now between his hands. He looks...somewhere between puzzled and sad, but it's a gentle expression all the same, somehow.
[When did this happen? How did this happen? Is this what Finnick thinks of Eren? Something broken, then made beautiful over time? He couldn't be more wrong...
[In some ways, Eren is more honest with Finnick than he is with anyone; in other ways, he's never been more of a liar.
[His voice comes out quiet. He's still looking at the glass.]
I've become important to you. [He almost says it like he's sorry.]
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He looks like he understands the weight of the gift, or is at least trying to. Quietly, gently, he answers:]
Of course you have. You're special, and rare, and I found you despite all odds.
[He pokes the glass, making the connection solid that the red piece represents Eren, in case it wasn't totally clear.]
Plus, you're pretty. Like the glass.
[A lopsided grin.]
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[Finnick's final words give Eren pause, and God he wants to laugh, or at least smile - this cheeky little shit, grinning, winking, calling him pretty like Eren's some girl in Finnick's Cadet Corps...
[He settles for pointedly closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, clearly affected by the comment in a way that he hopes conveys at least some vague amusement.
[He puts the seaglass in his pocket.
[If there were any doubts about his affections after all that, he decides to put them to rest. He takes Finnick's knuckles and brings them to his lips again just briefly; after that, a kiss to that lips - slow, warm, weighted - all of the affection and longing and pitiful loneliness that he's been holding in since the last time they were alone like this...
[He'll have to get Finnick something too. He's never been all that good at gifts.]
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The kiss he's been craving for hours-- No, days-- relaxes him immediately. He closes his eyes and smiles into it, accepting this as Eren's way of saying how he feels- about the gift, about Finnick. His hand finds Eren's waist, gently pulling him a little closer. It's slow, deep, long. It feels meaningful. He could live in it forever.]
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[Eren's entire body sighs. It's relief. He cups Finnick's face with one hand, the other wrapping strongly around his back. Eren's not as shy as he was a few nights ago; not now that he knows what he's been missing out on. The kiss isn't "hungry" in that it's a lustful thing, but it is certainly reaching, reaching, reaching for more, just...the sort of more that makes Finnick talk about seaglass, not the sort that takes him to bed; that's all.
[It takes an awfully long time for Eren to break away. Once he does, he's breathless, and then he's kissing Finnick again, again, again...
[His mind feels blank and clear. There's only this sensation - Finnick's lips, warm on his; Finnick's seaglass, warm in his pocket. Eren doesn't take it anywhere beyond a kiss, but if Finnick wants him to lead, then he'll also have to be the one to break the silence first. This is why he kisses Finnick's knuckles on the beach. He couldn't pull himself away if he tried.]
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The way the kiss affects Eren, the way Finnick is now practically being smothered with his affection; it's what he needed. Proof that this dead-eyed man was actually affected by anything Finnick ever did or said. That the night they shared isn't going to be forgotten or ignored. Rather, it'll stretch out into many nights to come, hopefully.
He laughs very gently at how clingy Eren becomes.]
You're cute. C'mon.
[He leads him by the hand to his bedroom, lying next to him in bed with no intention of doing anything but pulling him as close as possible. He tangles himself into Eren just like they did last time. They continue to kiss, and kiss, and kiss. Instead of turning into heat and urgency, though, it makes Finnick relaxed and sleepy, until his kisses begin to weaken and space out, his breathing slowing.]
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[His face is obnoxiously warm.
[The sin is quickly forgotten. Eren and Finnick are intertwined with each other once again. Eren's grateful for the kissing, if only because it means he doesn't have to try forming words when his brain is already at its absolute limit for Finnick's romantic charisma. He feels totally out of his element, here...
[So, they kiss until it doesn't matter. They kiss until Eren forgets entirely to question it. His mind is blank. His chest is warm. His fingers run trails up and down Finnick's spine, flatten out over his shoulder blades, curl around the fabric of his shirt; this, too, is more Chastity than Lust. He just wants to touch with as much of himself as he can at once. If he weren't so distracted, his mind would be reeling, and dangerously so. It's too much too fast, isn't it? It's too intense, too euphoric, too good for Eren to touch, but here they are, and he can't stop, won't stop, doesn't want to, doesn't want to...
[Their kisses slow, their breaths slow, their heartbeats slow. Eren doesn't know how long they've been lying here. The realization dawns on him that he's tired, and that soon he'll be able to sleep. He wonders how Finnick did sleeping alone the last few nights. Eren didn't sleep at all.
[They have to stop kissing eventually. Eren pulls away, fearing that the world will finally come crashing down; it didn't the first night they spent together. He watches Finnick with searching green eyes; just as with the first time they touched like this, they don't look so dull as they usually do...
[What can he say? It feels he should say something.
[Maybe not. Maybe it's better that things are kept silent. Maybe Finnick will say something instead. He can't be sure. He doesn't really care. He's watching Finnick's eyes. He doesn't feel any urgency for that to end.
[Eventually, all he manages to breathe, embarrassingly, is:] Hey...
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Finnick purposely lays on his right side so that his good arm is on top, free to rub Eren's back, caress his shoulders and sides, soothe him with gentle movements. He wants the other man to feel safe with him, and that's what comes across in each touch, rather than any sexual intent.
As the kisses and warmth soothe Finnick, his eyelids become heavier and fall shut, and it takes a moment after the kisses stop for him to feel Eren's stare. He blinks his eyes open to look at Eren's intent expression, similar to the other night. Finally, at his breathy greeting, Finnick smiles knowingly and gives his own, stroking his cheek and his hair.]
Hey. How you doing?
[Eren says so little, it's impossible to ever know exactly what's going on in his head. It worries Finnick a bit, that Eren might not tell him if something was wrong. He knows he won't get a straight answer now, considering he never has gotten one to such a question in the past, but he still has to ask.]
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[Or...maybe he just wants to know how Eren's feeling. Unfortunately for Finnick, Eren's never been good at articulating that sort of thing. His stare endures as he tries to work through a response in his kiss-foggy mind.]
Tired. [An honest answer. He really doesn't like to lie to him; just tired of lying in general, maybe. He didn't used to be all too good at that either; maybe he still isn't.
[Can Finnick tell that he hasn't slept...?
[Has Finnick?
[Eren shifts where he lies.] Come here...[A murmur. He pushes himself up a couple of inches on the mattress, then guides Finnick's head to his chest. He can fall asleep to a heartbeat tonight; Eren's personal favorite.
[Finnick's been in charge of quite enough tonight (belatedly, Eren is realizing that his blond-haired companion had him completely wrapped around his finger with that wine errand). Eren rests a hand over the nape of Finnick's neck, the other resting on the man's hip.]
I ought to tell you what it means...[Another murmur. Eren's curls more firmly around Finnick's nape.]
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cw hospitalization,suicidal thoughts