He is tan like Marco and has dark hair like Marco, but that’s about where the similarities end. For however much Jean wills it, the boy laying in front of him, facing the other direction, will never be Marco, never be like Marco. He is shorter, thinner, bright-eyed and he certainly doesn’t have a single freckle, or any sort of blemish for that matter, anywhere on his body. And that’s only the physical differences, although Jean is sure there are more. No, the boy in front of him is almost the opposite of calm, sweet, Marco. He is rash, hot headed, and so damn eager to rush into battle some even say he’s suicidal.
He’s really nothing like Marco.
But no matter how much Jean wishes it he will never have Marco, never lay with him or know what his lips taste like. Jean will never know what it’s like to hear his name spill from Marco’s perfect mouth in the hushed, early hours of the morning. It almost makes him feel guilty, laying there with Eren all while thinking, wishing, he were someone else but he justifies it by assuming, knowing , that he’s not Eren’s first choice either.
Still, it’s not all bad.
Even if they don’t always get along they can confide in each other, they can trust each other and when they do disagree they either fight or fuck it out depending on the night. In the end there’s a war on and they aren’t promised tomorrow so they might as well enjoy each other tonight even if they both just kind of accidently stumbled in to each other’s beds and decided it was better than nothing, better than wanting something they couldn’t have.
Lost in his thoughts Jean heaves a heavy sigh into the hair of the boy laying in his arms, causing him to stir and roll over to face him. Sleepy, green-blue eyes blink up at Jean and observe him for a moment in the dimly lit room.
“You think too much,” Eren informs him with a gravely voice that’s laced with exhaustion. Before Jean can snap back the other boy is pressing against him, throwing a leg over Jean’s own while crushing their mouths together. The kiss is clumsy and a bit aggressive but it serves it’s purpose of silencing and distracting him because Jean’s fingers tangle in Eren’s hair before he knows it. He’s unconscious of himself relaxing into Eren’s touch when his fingers graze the short hair at the back of Jean’s neck and he sighs into the kiss.
Eren pulls back and looks at him again briefly before closing his eyes and tucking his head under Jean’s chin while whispering, “Go to sleep man, you’re keeping me up.”
Jean rolls his eyes but his lips tug a bit at the corner, sure thing, asshole.
Eren is not Marco, no, but he’s the perfect distraction.
And also, maybe, his friend.