Title: Store-Bought Bones
Summary:
Now, I've had the saints and patience - I have pills for this, tabs for that, and something that used to resemble the soul - so won't anybody take my hand, won't anybody ease my ache, and will somebody please carry me home? JeanSasha. AU. Incomplete. Trigger warnings listed inside.
Rating: M
Thank-you so much tumblr user SashKirstein for the prompt! I hope I lived up to your expectations! I'm so sorry this took me so long to write – I hope I did the prompt justice, I really enjoyed writing this.
Warning: This is rated M primarily due to several trigger warnings, such as:
-Slight mention of [Sexual] Assault
-Passing mention of Rape
as well as extremely explicit language (primarily because Jean is a potty mouth). If you are uncomfortable with any of these things, please do not read the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Shingeki no Kyojin or its characters – I just make 'em do the occasional naughty, fluffy things. I also do not own any of the songs and lyrics used in the title, the summary, or the content of the chapters. They belong to their respective musicians - "Store-Bought Bones" is a song by The Raconteurs, and the lyrics in the summary are from the song "Stay Vicious" by The Gaslight Anthem.
x
"As you step out into the city,
no one to find you or recognize,
as your black heels kick at the beat
of my heart in perfect time.
Singing, 'look at you saving my life.'
Singing, 'tonight you're saving my life.'"
Stay Vicious, The Gaslight Anthem
x
This summer was going to be a fucking scorcher, Jean Kirschtein mused as he flicked the lit butt of his cigarette into one of the many dingy puddles littering the city's sidewalk. It was a weak, late spring night, and the crescent moon hung low, curled around the remaining tufts of clouds. The humidity had already begun to hang thick in the air, dragging everything down in the most unpleasant way possible. While a sweet breeze blew through every now and again, Jean knew it was still too hot for him to be walking around right now, and it definitely was too hot for him to be wearing this heavy fucking jacket…but to be honest, Jean Kirschtein didn't really give a shit.
Plus, it made him look so bad-ass. Everyone knows not to mess with a guy in a leather jacket, especially one with as many details and patches as Jean's – he probably spent more time stitching shit on this jacket than he did anything else.
A car puttered by, the only car Jean had seen in the past forty minutes or so. It was odd – the streets were curiously lonely tonight for one reason or the other . Sure, it was hot and muggy, but it was a Saturday night, and this was a pretty active city. During the week Jean found himself taking strolls along the busier areas as they were usually quite empty come midnight, but he had the tendency to avoid them on the weekends. The last thing he ever wanted to deal with were obnoxious teenagers on dates or cops following him around as if he was going to snatch some ladies purse. Sure, he had his few run-ins with the law – what troubled youth didn't these days? Luckily, back then he had been rather young, not to mention was wearing the passing of his mother on his shoulders, and shit, he really hadn't gotten into any fights in the past few months so why the fuck they gotta judge him so harshly?
It was probably his stupid two-toned hair, come to think of it. Fucking Marco told him it didn't look so bad, but then again, what had he known? Fuck lot of nothing.
Sighing, Jean drew another cigarette from his pack and cupped one hand around it as he lit it with the other, hiding the flame from the wind. Slipping his Zippo back into his back pocket, the young man took a long drag and felt the spicy smoke fill up his lungs before he exhaled. Ahh.
Fucking Marco. That kid was long gone now as well, come to think of it. How long had it been? Running on one and a half years, right? Jesus. That really hadn't been the most pleasant experience, but at least Jean hadn't –
A shrill noise pierced through the night, silencing the white noise and ongoing monologue Jean had accumulated during his walk. Had that been…a scream? Jean paused for a moment, straining to hear if there was going to be another noise…but nothing. Hmm. Taking another drag on his cigarette, Jean continued walking, street lamps still flickering as he trudged through more puddles until he heard yet another loud trilling – that was definitely a scream, and it definitely sounded much closer than before. It really wasn't any of Jean's business to be honest – probably just a couple having some really good sex or something weird like that. People were fucking strange during these later witching hours – hell, Jean had seen some pretty interesting things during his walks, it wasn't his position to judge but he really couldn't help it.
Another scream.
"Please, please don't – please, I don't have any money, I swear!" the voice was obviously female, and was obviously panicked – and exceptionally close. Shit. Ahh, fuck. Jean picked up his pace, partially out of pure intrigue, partially because, fuck, he was a punk but he wasn't a punk ass bitch and wouldn't be able to sleep right if he just let –
Another scream, and an obviously hushed male voice accompanied it.
"Listen, if you don't shut your pretty fucking face I'm going to have to do something about it."
Jean quickened his pace until he was almost running, nearly missing the alley way altogether and only stopped when he heard the poor girl's voice again, calling out against the empty night air.
"SIR! Sir! Oh my god, please, help me!" She called out, and Jean's head flicked to the right, only to come face first into a fist.
"What the FUCK?!" Jean reeled back from the assault, rubbing his shiner generously. "You've gotta be fucking kidding m –"
A swift kick knocked into his torso, and Jean wheezed in agony, another scream from the girl piercing the air.
"Leave him alone! Please, leave him alone!" Her sobs were growing louder and Jean cringed. God, he fucking hated hearing a girl cry. "I can't give you money, but I'll give you anything else you want, just don't hurt him too!"
"I told you," the figure standing above Jean switched his attention to the young girl, "to shut the FUCK up!" Another kick blew into Jean's side.
"Fuck man, he totally saw us, we gotta do something about him," another voice echoed through the alley way.
"Yeah man, we gotta get out of here before more people start to show up – " just how many of these guys were out here?!
"Will you two shut the fuck up? I'm taking care of him, just get that bitch to shut up!" The figure above Jean seemed engrossed in whatever else was occurring just long enough for Jean to regain some of his energy back, reaching into his back pocket and flicking out his knife. Gods, he was bleeding – he was bleeding bad, there was definitely blood coming from somewhere and it was stinging his eye, and he could taste metal on his bottom lip.
"What do we do?" one voice called back.
"Fucking pin her up against the wall – I don't know, shove your dicks into her mouth or something, just get her quiet! We'll get something from her one way or another."
"Ugh, this bitch is so feisty!" they sounded as if they were struggling, and the girl continued to scream out, causing an even bigger stir. Jean looked up and over to the girl – he couldn't get a good look at her face in the dim light, but one of the figures had pressed her up against the alley way's wall, clawing at the buttons of her blouse. You've gotta be fucking kidding me, they weren't really going to…
Another scream and Jean was brought back down to earth. Oh, fuck this.
Jean launched at the figure above him while the thug was distracted, driving his knife directly into the man's thigh, piercing through his clothing and knocking him onto his back with just enough time that Jean could pull his own knife-free fist back and sock that asswipe directly in the nose. Blood spurted out the moment his fist connected with cartilage, and Jean already could tell his other hand that had held the knife was covered as well, but fuck it. Nobody makes a fucking snake move on Jean Kirschtein, and everybody knows only shit fucks messed around with hurting a girl.
Pulling back again, Jean continued his assault on the other man's face as he straddled his chest, fist after fist, until he heard the shuffling of footsteps and saw the other two fuck faces running towards him. With just enough time to react, the young man jumped up and pounced to the man on the left, throwing his entire body weight into him and knocking him back down as well onto the grimy, wet floor. It seemed the one Jean hadn't knocked into was a tad bit more portly and as such was a much slower opponent, leaving Jean with just enough time to jump back to his own feet and rail his foot into the fallen asshole's groin. Repeatedly.
"Didn't anyone teach you cunts," he turned back to the heavyset figure who was slowly backing up and out of the alley way, "not to FUCK," Jean grabbed him by his collar and rolled back his fist with just enough momentum to hit the man square in his jaw, "with girls?!" The thicker thug didn't fall, but he did lose his balance, backing away and falling over the first asshole Jean had driven his knife into. Both men made a noise of disappointment and Jean approached them, ignoring the second man who was still clutching his crotch on the ground behind the young man.
"How does it fucking feel to be fucked over," Jean cocked his foot back, delivering a blow to the first figure's face, "to have your asses kicked by some punk kid?"
Jean heard the scream before he heard that second asshole approaching, and he turned around with just enough time to watch the man's fist connect with his stomach, lurching him back against a wall of metal trash cans, spilling the contents across the alley.
Ugh, there just HAD to be a curveball, didn't there?
"You have no fucking idea who you're messing with, kid," Jean groaned, clutching his stomach as the man continued, "it's best to mind your own business and learn your pl – "
A deafening, booming crack echoed across as the thug stopped mid-sentence, falling forward on top of Jean and revealing another disheveled figure behind him, clutching a circular, metal trash can cover.
Jean blinked, incredulous, watching as the figure then moved over to where the other two men were laying, still dazed, and began lifting up her foot and stomping on them relentlessly.
"You are all very, very, VERY," another stomp, "AWFUL," and another, "PEOPLE!" She cried out.
What the fuck?
"Hey!" Jean called out, but the girl didn't stop. "HEY!" He tried again, shoving the thug off of him so he could get up and walk over to the girl. What the fuck was this? This was his fight! He sure as hell didn't need any fucking girls taking care of him, and he especially didn't need them showing him up!
She still didn't react, until finally Jean gripped her shoulder and spun her around to face him,
"I said, 'HEY!'"
Oh. Oh, fuck. She was really pretty. Like, really, really, really pretty. Jean was at a loss for the words as the girl stared up at him, her honeyed eyes studying the man who had saved her. From his one good eye, Jean could see that her hair must have been in an up-do earlier, because it was now pulled out and the tie was hanging low against the curve of her chin. The ochre street lamps own light illuminated one side of her heart-shaped face, and Jean noted how her tawny brown hair glowed warmly against it.
The young man's heart sped up almost instantly, and the girl looked concerned.
"Are you okay?" Her face softened as she brought her hand up to gingerly pull away a few strands of Jean's hair, dabbing at the sticky blood that had begun to clot just below his hairline.
Jean immediately snatched her wrist, watching as the girl sucked in air.
"Don't touch me." He barked, "I'm fine."
"You d-don't look so fine to me…"
Jean's eyes narrowed.
"You have a very odd way of thanking your saviour, y'know," Jean sucked his teeth, "not everyone would take an ass kicking like that."
The young girl's eyes widened and she pulled away from his grip.
"Thank-you," she responded quietly, casting her eyes downward, "I'm so sorry, I really do owe you. You're right, not everyone would have stopped to help."
Ah, fuck, she wasn't going to cry now was she? Fuck. She had just gotten assaulted…ugh. Marco had always told him he sucked with communicating.
"Look, it's whatever," the young man huffed, grimacing as he realized how much more painful it was becoming to move his face. Fuck, these guys really did a number on him, "where do you live? The least I can do is make sure you get home safe."
She smiled back up at him carefully, wiping the wet from her eyes with the back of her hand.
x
Sasha Braus rarely traveled by herself late at night – she knew better honestly, but that night had been a bit different. The poor girl had originally been out with friends, they always traveled in groups together, but lately Sasha had taken to sneaking away from the group. Again, she knew this wasn't smart, but she just wasn't into the whole 'club scene' any more – and to be honest, she knew if she stayed with her friends they would stay out until the dawn was breaking across the horizon and that just wasn't her style these days. Sasha was, to put it bluntly, sick of being the only friend that had sobered up by two in the morning and had to spend the remainder of her time babysitting everyone – then, to subsequently be ditched for a random guy or a booty call? Count her out. Count her so, so, so far out.
However, it had been when she was walking home from her sneaky little maneuver that Sasha noted she was being followed. One block after another the thugs followed her, and it was only when Sasha broke out into a sprint that they made their real move.
"So, they just attacked you? Just like that?" Jean winced as Sasha began to dab at his cheek with a soaked cotton ball, "Fuck! That fucking stings! You said it wouldn't sting!"
"Ugh, just hold still would ya, you big baby?" Sasha tsked, cleaning the area around Jean's swelling cut. "They followed me for quite a few blocks, I'm sure – I had seen them at the bars. I know it. One of them offered to buy me a drink, but I declined."
They were perched on Sasha's couch in her apartment as the girl tended to Jean's wounds. After he had walked her home, the least she could do was ensure he was taken care of.
Satisfied with her cleaning, Sasha then began to tear apart the band-aids and gauze from their packaging, applying a generous amount of anti-bacterial gel before pressing and applying them against Jean's assorted gashes.
"Thanks, I suppose," Jean gently touched the bandaged areas, still in pain but feeling slightly better, "y'know, for cleaning me up."
"Well, I did owe you," Sasha smiled at him as she packed her first aid kit back away and Jean felt a warmth creep up his face, staining his ears and face a light dusting of pink. The young man prayed it wasn't noticeable against the red of his swollen injuries, the last thing he needed was embarrassing himself further against an attractive girl. Sasha stood up from the couch and walked back over to her kitchen fridge, her silhouette curved out by its bright light as Jean watched her grab a few ice cubes and press them into a plastic bag with a square of folded paper towel. Damn, she actually had a really nice body – curvy, taut…
The girl was back in front of him, her arm reaching across his face, the other steadying herself on his knee, Sasha held the home made ice pack flush against the young man's swollen cheek. Fuck, fuck, fuck. If the ice wasn't so cold and his face in so much pain, Jean's sure that all of his blood would be rushing straight down to…fuck.
"They still hurt something fierce, though." Jean grimaced, hoping that it wasn't obvious that he was completely losing his shit at their proximity. How long had it been since he'd been this close to a girl? Well, scratch that, a girl that actually did something to him – you could fuck around with as many people as you wanted to, stick your tongue down every throat in the city and grind your hips against every groin, but attraction was something that didn't just blossom with every stranger you bought a drink for.
"Aw," Sasha grasped one of his hands and Jean thought he might completely just lose his shit – but instead she pressed his palm up against the ice, instructing him to hold it so that it could help with the swelling, "were you hoping I was going to kiss them better?"
Jean, for once in his whole goddamn life, was at a complete loss for words.
"Uh, I, uhm – " the young man sputtered, Sasha laughing at her own boldness while the Jean sputtered, turning eighty different hues of bright red.
"Well, all you had to do was ask," the girl lifted her chin up, pressing her lips softly against Jean's brow bone, just to the left of one of his cuts. Gently, she removed them and placed them back down against the swell of his cheek, barely brushing them against the tender area.
Removing her lips, Sasha pulled away and stared into Jean's eyes defiantly, and flicked her gaze down to his lips where there was a slight cut running from his bottom lip to the tip of his chin. Ever so lightly, the girl moved and pressed the young man's bottom lip between her own. Just a peck, just a brush, that's all. Nothing more.
Jean lashed out and grabbed her chin, cupping his own hand against her cheek. For a minute Sasha thought he was going to harm her for one quick second, but instead he pulled her back down and kissed her again, just as gently as she had, except he held her face there, tilting his own slightly to deepen the kiss just so.
"Thank-you," he muttered as he pulled away, blushing just as brightly as before, turning away from the girl.
Sasha smiled, standing back up and padding back across her apartment.
"I'll get you a blanket so you can sleep on the couch," Jean was about to protest but the girl spoke again before he could, "just shut up and rest. If you murder me in my sleep, that's my own fault for trusting a stranger so quickly."
Jean smirked to himself, laying back down on the girl's couch and drifting to dreamland before she could come back with the blanket. At least tonight he had a real place to sleep – and these days, that was just as good as anything.
x
Notes:
Gah, I hope you all enjoyed! I'm sorry, I realize that there are a lot of plot holes and a lot of OOC instances, but I just really liked the idea of this story. Actually, while it was originally a OneShot I'm highly tempted to expand on it slightly - don't know, I'm always tempted to do that, as I feel if it was a multi-chapter fic I really could build on the character's relationships, especially since I loaded so much information on Jean's past life that I really could bring back later. Hm. Well, we'll see!
Again, thank-you to tumblr user SashKirstein for the prompt! I hope I lived up to your expectations! I know it fizzled a bit but it was a great prompt and I thank-you so much for it!
xx
