robodicking | this au is horrible

[Weeks ago, if you'd asked Jean, living in a barn wouldn't exactly strike him as an ideal situation. It's musty and dirty and not at all glorious, not outfitted with modern amenities or a perfect shelter from the elements. Not fitting for a soldier, though a soldier could make do. But a soldier who had been taught and trained and turned out amongst the best and had taken firm hold of the opportunity for a better life with both hands shouldn't have to just make do.

A soldier also shouldn't have to claw his way out of the hell, choking and sputtering on the fumes and ashes of a burning city and struggling not to collapse among the suddenly crushing weight of the only person he had managed to save in the end, out of the hundreds of thousands he'd sworn to protect. No human should, no matter what they've been trained for. Nothing could prepare someone for that.

A lot has changed since then.

Jean's barely listening to the conversation at this point as he peers around the loft. It's still dusty in the corners, housing crates and straw, but he pays it no mind. It's the smell of horses, the memory that comes with it in his mind. Of his home city, of the military stables. Of better times.

He's quiet as he finds a propped hatch to the roof, and slips out. And sits.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Jean opens his mouth at first to offer help, but then slowly shuts it. Right. Let him do it. It's not like he's useless now, as Marco swiftly reminded him once. He hasn't yet had to a second time.]

Oh.

Ah!

[ there it goes. he manages to detach it without the whole thing falling open, unfolding the corners of it on his lap and collecting the few dandelions that try to scatter with his efforts as he does. ]

Oh.

[ pauses for a moment before offering an explanation: ] She didn't tell me about the bread. [ which is a pleasant surprise, one that certainly explains the size of the makeshift bag. hands it over to jean, starting to separate the flowers into even piles once he takes it. ] Here, rip this in half.

[He takes the bread, only to pause and consider it for a moment with a sudden, subtle sense of wonder. It looks good, fresh. Jean swears he starts drooling already because holy God, when is the last time they've even seen bread, much less fresh bread? Has it been since the city? He can't remember anymore.

Upon tearing it open with careful hands, the heady, sweet tang of dough and yeast hits his nose, and the salivating just worsens tenfold. Definitely fresh. Like baked this morning fresh. Not even soldier provisions were always this good.]

Hhhhholy shit. [Jean actually cracks a soft, wide grin, offering forth the piece he deems to have come out slightly larger.] Okay buddy, eat up. I don't think I could live with myself if a crumb of this goes to waste.

[ he can smell it when jean rips it in half, and he takes a moment to close his eye and enjoy just that. the inside is still soft when he takes it back, something he hadn't noticed when he first passed it to jean. ]

Believe me, I won't waste a bite.

And these are yours. [ gestures down to the pile of fresh picked dandelions closer to jean, slightly larger than marcos own, though they're arranged to appear equal. he can't hold off much longer before taking the first bite of the bread. it's closer to a small nibble of the corner, cautious of being rid of it too soon, and is nothing shy of wonderful, leaving him grinning back at jean. ]

[Believe me, Jean's already tearing into his bread. He knows he'll fill his stomach before he can even finish, so he's no reason to try and make it last when he knows there will still just be more.

Which, of course, he has little intent to keep for himself once he's had his fill. But he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it.]

Thankth- [Sorry. Mouth full of bread, ok. He tried.]

[ the benefit of his small bites is that he could possibly talk around it without being too muffled. could, of course, were he not using that extra space to pop a few dandelions into place beside the bread. he offers jean a thumbs up in place of a your welcome.

he's entirely content to stay there eating in silence under the warming morning sun, tension falling from his shoulders with every bite, and stomach settling on full instead of teetering on the edge of enough for a change. ]

[Jean takes far less time to gorge himself, finally slowing to nibble on the flowers after a point. He's still got more than just a few bites of bread left, but he's got no intent of making himself sick.

Munch munch munch. Yeah. He already knows he could get used to this. Or at least, he will. Maybe. If the peace and calm and comfort of it all stops feeling so surreal and dreamlike.

He kind of hopes it doesn't.]

This is nice.

[ leans into jeans side, a little, heavier than intended but with a full stomach has come the reminder that he is in fact quite tired. ]

Really nice.

Mmn.

[He doesn't even think twice before tilting his head to the side as well, pressing close, and closing his eyes.]

Yeah...

Nice enough I can hardly believe it.

[ laughs a little, despite the fact that it's entirely true, and starts to fold the remainder of their food lightly into the handkerchief still on his lap, so they dont roll off without his notice. ]

[Jean cracks his eyes back open for a moment, hangs on to one dandelion before handing the rest of his stuff over. Another murmur of assent rumbles out from him as he slowly nibbles his way through it, in little hurry to finish.

It's a long, quiet moment until he speaks again.]

Do you think they'll put us to work today?

[ he tucks the remainder of jeans things away with his, sighing through his nose as silence settles — not of any sense of frustration, but relaxed, content. ]

I can't be sure. Do you think we should ask?

[ licks his lips as he thinks, gathering the crumbs he couldn't tell were hidden at the scarred corner of his mouth as he does. ]

Maybe we should wait until someone comes back with the mattresses. So we don't have to run around looking for a familiar face.

this au is horrible

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