Chapter Text
They’ve been lying in bed all day.
Jean’s thesis defense is happening in a little over a week, and he’s not feeling horrible about it.
Eren’s been asking him questions all morning.
Granted, they’re broad questions—the committee will delve much deeper into the research—but it’s getting him thinking, helping him generate questions on his own and coming up with answers.
After a long bout of comfortable silence, Eren rolls from his back to his side to face him. His hair is all over the place and his eyes are blazing with characteristic intensity.
“Hmm?” Jean mimics him, rolling to his side so they’re face to face, a couple inches apart. Eren brushes his foot lightly over Jean’s ankle under the tangled topsheet.
“Do you want kids?”
“What?” Jean asks, mildly taken aback.
They don’t discuss too many of the big topics in depth. Though he supposes after a year of dating, albeit on and off at times, is a fine time to do so.
It’s just unexpected.
But that’s Eren.
“Kids,” Eren says again. “I think I do. Do you?”
Jean pauses.
“I hadn’t really thought about it. I don’t know if I want them or if I always just kind of assumed I would have one or two because that’s one of those life milestones… for a lot of people.”
“I think I want four.” Eren says. Jean’s mouth falls open in shock.
“Eren, sweetheart, dumbass love of my life and idiot apple of my eye… you’ve managed to under water a succulent. You forget to feed Hitch unless I ask— ” the gray tabby at the foot of the bed opens one eye at the mention of her name, then leaps off the bed and pads out of the room when she realizes she’s not getting anything out of the deal.
Jean continues.
“One kid is expensive enough, let alone four. No offense, but you teach yoga and I’m going to be paying off student loans until I die…” he trails off, realizing his error.
“So you do want kids with me,” Eren grins, cheeky.
Jean can feel his face burning bright red, “No. I don’t even like you.”
“Yeah, sure. That’s why you immediately started in on the logistics,” Eren says, running a hand up his chest and pulling on his shirt, tugging him down into a slow kiss.
“Mmm… maybe one and maybe if we make it to forty without killing each other,” Jean says when they part.
“At least two, probably three though, and starting before we’re thirty,” Eren’s foot is making its way higher up Jean’s leg, making it hard to concentrate. “Only children are weird.”
“I’m an only child,” Jean grumbles, tangling a hand in Eren’s hair and drawing him in for another kiss.
“You are very weird,” Eren huffs a laugh against his lips.
“I’m incredibly normal. You are fucked up,” Jean says with a slow smile, turning his head to nose at the side of Eren’s jaw. Eren ignores him, drawing closer to Jean and sighing at the gentle treatment.
“Who do you think they’ll look like more?” Eren loops his arms around his neck and nips at the corner of his mouth. Jean groans and subtly shifts against him.
“Whichever one of us is brave enough to jerk off in a cup, stupid.”
“So it’s me then,” Eren murmurs, moving along with Jean.
“Ah- Asshole…” Jean shudders at the contact.
“That’s why we should have at least two. I bet we could manage to make you a cute baby… with— with the right surrogate,” Eren’s hands are wandering lower, tugging at the waistband of Jean’s sweats.
“Dick,” Jean mutters, stilling Eren’s hands beneath his own, “my babies would be cute no matter what… Wait. How long have you been thinking about this?”
“Mmmh… I haven’t. Just occurred to me,” Eren gasps, changing tactics and rolling over, pressing his back to Jean’s chest, his perfect ass resting snug against Jean’s hips.
“Liar,” Jean accuses, pulling him back by the waist, digging his fingers in hard. Eren moans, burying his face in Jean’s pillow.
It’s just as likely to be true as it is false. Only Eren would decide on a whim that he wants four kids and commit to it. And only Eren will know for sure because he’s beyond answering for now and Jean’s not going to press him.
He pulls Eren’s boxers down just below the swell of his ass and frees his cock from the confines of his sweatpants, allowing himself a couple of slow strokes before sliding between Eren’s thighs. He wraps an arm around Eren’s chest, feeling him heave a stuttered breath when Jean starts to move.
“Hnnn…”
Eren tips his head back against his shoulder and rolls his hips in time with Jean’s.
It probably wouldn’t take much to get Eren ready again, but Jean’s feeling lazy and Eren’s not complaining. Not yet, anyway. He angles his head, just barely catching Eren’s lips with his own.
“Think… think about it, Jean,” Eren murmurs, his hand reaching up to rest over Jean’s, grabbing it and squeezing tight. “D- Dr. Kirstein hah- with your sexy gray beard and- and nghh…”
Jean groans again. “Stop it… Eren.”
And of course Eren doesn’t stop. He never has.
“And I… I’m your hot young thing… god, don’t stop— ”
“We’re the same age,” Jean gasps, stupid, obvious, as he rocks into the smooth heat of Eren’s thighs faster, feeling himself catch along Eren’s hard length. He drags his hand down from Eren’s chest to wrap around his cock, pulling a strangled cry from his throat.
And Eren’s still talking, because of course he is. Because he rarely shuts up.
“And—” he breaks off on a whine, trying to decide if he should push forward into Jean’s hand or back onto his hips. “And it’s December so anhh- feel so good… Please don’t stop…”
Not that Jean would even if he could.
“What else? What are we doing?” He asks lowly, mouthing hot over Eren’s jaw, losing himself in the narrative. In the feeling of Eren.
“We’re… we’re taking them… ice skating and— ” He sobs as Jean grinds up slow and Jean drinks it down. “You… Jean- hah- you sneak off to buy them hot chocolates and…” whatever else he was going to say is muffled by Jean’s lips on his, kissing him deeply, shoving his tongue roughly into his mouth, intent on exploring every available inch of Eren he can reach.
“Fuck, Eren,” he pants, parting, drawing back and dropping his head to Eren’s shoulder, rocking into him faster still. Reeling from his words, dizzy with the heat building in his stomach. “That’s married people shit…”
Eren whimpers and Jean feels himself teetering on the edge, ready to fall.
“So do you— do… are you going to marry me, then?”
“Uh— uh huh… Yes. Yes! Fuck!”
Eren’s spilling over his fist, pushing back into Jean and crying out as he lets go. Jean tips over the edge soon after, making a mess of Eren’s thighs and muffling a choked cry against the nape of his neck, rocking slowly against Eren’s pliant body until he’s spent.
“You’re such a freak,” he says after, while he’s gently scrubbing a towel over Eren’s legs.
“Says the guy who proposed to me while he was coming,” Eren chuckles, watching Jean watch him from under his thick lashes. He looks like he’s about five minutes away from a nap. “That’s going to make for a really romantic story to tell all our loved ones. Christ, you better hope our kids never ask us how it happened.”
“That’s not what happened,” Jean drops his gaze, defensive. “You’ll know if I— wait. You said yes though…”
Eren yawns, “that’s not what that was.”
Jean rolls his eyes and settles back down behind Eren. “If I did… would you?”
“We’ll see,” Eren snickers. He reaches for Jean’s arm and tugs it around his waist. “I don’t want to inherit your student loans.”