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i.
Eren starts feeling it before he even knows the word for it.
They’re fifteen, and Eren ran out the door without his meds this morning, so he can’t focus on school for shit. He’s trying his best, his leg bouncing in place, the chain from his wallet clinking against the metal of his chair, but despite his best efforts he just ends up staring at the back of Jean’s head over and over.
Eren’s good at math, he really is, but today algebra just goes in one ear and right out the other. All he can get a good grasp on is the way Jean’s pale hair looks with the light from the small window behind it, a bold sunbeam lighting delicate strands aglow.
He doesn’t want to act out, he really doesn’t. He’s gotten a lot better on the whole self-control front since he started taking medicine. No more fights, no more outbursts, no more panicking and overthinking in circles until he’s wound up so tight he can barely breathe. Right now, though, his body is screaming at him to move, to do something, and it won’t be satisfied with finding the x.
So Eren tears a scrap of paper out of his notebook and hastily scribbles ‘you’re a fucking loser’ on it, then wads it up and flicks it at the back of Jean’s head. It bounces off his ear, earning Eren a truly impressive twitch, which he tries really hard not to giggle at.
While the teacher’s turned around, Jean grumbles, then reaches down to grab the paper. He unfolds it, and Eren revels in the brief tension that passes through Jean’s body before his friend remembers that it doesn’t matter. Jean turns and gives him a glare anyway, so Eren just tilts his head and sticks his tongue out between his teeth, unable to hold back his wide, crooked grin.
With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Jean turns back around and hunches over the paper. When he sends it sailing back over his shoulder without looking, it hits Eren square between the eyes, and an alarmed squawk leaves his mouth before he can tamp down the urge.
If that sound wasn’t enough to catch the teacher’s attention, the clatter of Eren’s chair feet hitting the floor would. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d been leaned back on two legs, but old habits seem to die hard.
“Something wrong, Eren?” the teacher asks, one thick eyebrow raised.
“No, ma’am,” Eren mumbles, leaning forward on his desk and lowering his gaze to his notebook, full of scribbles and doodles more than actual notes today.
Seemingly satisfied, the teacher turns back around and goes back to whatever proof she’d been running the class through. Once she gets back on her rhythm, Eren glances up at Jean again, only to find him already looking back at him. His friend pointedly jerks his chin at the paper ball on the corner of his desk.
Eren quirks an eyebrow at him, then reaches over and grabs it, unfolding it quietly.
‘takes one to know one, asshole’
Grumbling under his breath, Eren glances up at Jean, meaning to ask him if that’s really the best he’s got, but for some reason, when his eyes meet Jean’s, the words get stuck in his throat.
Jean just grins victoriously at him, his eyes narrowed in amusement, and Eren barely hears the last bell of the day sounding over the sound of his friend’s snickering.
Something in him squirms and twitches, but it’s different from all the other squirms and twitches he usually feels when he misses his meds. It’s in his chest, deeper and so much more vulnerable than the desperate need to move his arms and legs. Eren’s not entirely sure he likes it much at all.
Jean stands up and crams his notebook in his bag, then knocks on Eren’s desk and says, “Come on, I wanna go home and play the new Resident Evil game. Connie said the monsters are insane. Wanna watch?”
Eren shakes his head quickly, then slaps his stuff into his bag and swings it over his shoulder without closing it. “Yeah, sure.”
The feeling fades for a while, but every once in a while when he’s hanging out with Jean it comes back to haunt him, nameless and distracting and impossible to pin down.
--
Eren figures out what’s happening about a year later.
He’s kind of ashamed that it took so long, but he wouldn’t say he’s surprised.
That feeling, that vulnerable fluttering inside him has never been an explicitly good or bad feeling for him. It’s just been there, and for a long time Eren thought it was just another symptom of his ADHD, another one of those sparks inside of him that makes him need to move, need to do something, leaves him craving something, just like all the other quirks he has.
The time he walks around a corner behind the school and sees Jean leaning back against the wall, his eyes closed, his lips firmly locked with that tall, punky girl from their chemistry class, the squirming comes back, and this time it is very distinctly bad.
He leaves before either of them notice he’s there, and spends the rest of the day in a powerful bad mood. He wishes he could say he doesn’t know why.
He knows exactly why.
That twitching inside him, the angry pull in his gut, the burning in his sinuses... none of it has anything to do with the girl.
It has everything to do with Jean.
--
Eren never really sees them together again. She goes back to hanging out with her tiny best friend, and Jean never mentions her, or kissing her, or anything of the sort when he and Eren hang out. For a while, Jean seems kind of pissy, but Eren just brushes it off and snarks right back at him when Jean gets too snippy.
A few months later, the tall girl makes a big, nervous show of asking her best friend to prom, and Eren can’t help the quick swoop of anxiety in his stomach. When he glances over at his friend, though, Jean’s grinning wildly, dragging his hand through his hair, his eyes narrowing the way they do when he’s actually happy.
“Fucking finally, dude,” Jean yells, having to lean closer so Eren can hear him over the bustle of school letting out.
Eren glances him over, and can’t find any of the usual signs that his friend is faking it, so he relaxes and laughs. “Yeah.”
He still doesn’t know what the deal was between Jean and that girl behind school one day. He doubts he’ll ever have the guts to ask. Really, he’s just happy that those two girls had their moment without anyone feeling the need to come forward and harass them about it.
He’s also happy, really happy, that Jean’s not hurting because of it.
The moment he realizes that is about the moment Eren realizes he’s pretty fucked.
--
By the time Eren actually finds the nerve to say something, they’re about a week out from winter break of their senior year. They’re in Eren’s room working on some project or another, delirious from the workload, and Eren’s head is spinning in blurry circles because his meds finally wore off. He flops back onto his bedroom floor and slings his arms over his eyes, trying not to get lost in his own brain fuzz, and grumbles, “Whoever said senior year of high school is easy was a fucking liar.”
“Tell me about it,” Jean groans from where’s he’s similarly sprawled across Eren’s narrow bed. “I was looking forward to a free ride, too.”
Eren sighs loudly. “You finish that paper for Smith yet?”
“You know I haven’t.” Jean groans again, and Eren comes out of his dark cave just to watch Jean roll onto his stomach, folding his arms and resting his chin on them. He looks so damn tired, but Eren can only assume he looks the same, or worse. “I can’t take any more powerpoint slides, dude, my eyes are gonna melt out of my head.”
Sitting up with a grunt, Eren shakes his head, trying to ignore the reeling that comes with the motion. “Want me to take over?”
Jean considers him for a moment, then shakes his head. “I know that look. You’re checked out.”
Eren gives him a solid middle finger, but he can’t exactly argue with that. Jean knows him too damn well.
With a sigh, Jean closes his eyes and buries his face in his arms. “Let’s just give up for the night, dude. I’m fried.”
“Whatever.” Eren watches Jean’s body relax a little more, rubbing the back of his neck and unsuccessfully working to tamp down that stupid fluttering.
After a moment, Jean hums, “Maybe we should just do whatever it is people expect dumb teenage boys to do. Talk about girls or something.”
Eren snorts at that, dropping his gaze to the worn carpet between his bare feet. “Sounds stupid.”
“To you, sure. Do you even know girls exist?”
Rolling his eyes, Eren gives Jean an exasperated look, at which his friend just raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “I do have a sister, you know.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t count. I’m talking like, cute girls. Aren’t we supposed to be girl-crazy or something?”
“Speak for yourself,” Eren grumbles, because it’s easier to get grouchy than it is to admit that he’s crazy about something, but it’s not girls.
Jean leans up on his elbows and stares down at him. “C’mon, you don’t have any crushes?”
Something in Eren cracks, and annoyance bleeds into anger in his gut. “Why do you want to know? What’s with you?”
And Jean, that insistent fucking bastard, just grins at him and leers, “You do have a crush, don’t you.”
Eren tries not to lash out, but goddammit, Jean’s being embarrassing, and Eren’s got no brain chemicals left to deal with this rationally. “Fuck off, dude.”
“No way, I gotta know,” Jean says, and he may know Eren pretty damn well, but Jean has never known when to back off. “Is it Sasha? She’s fun, but she’s way better at video games than you. Or maybe Mina? She seems more your type—”
A man can only take so much.
Eren chucks an eraser at Jean’s head.
It’s just a worn down bit of rubber, so it bounces off Jean’s forehead without much force, but the effect is there nonetheless. Jean sits up with a deep, offended frown. “Dude, what the fuck? It’s just me, you don’t gotta get so worked up.”
“You don’t know shit,” Eren seethes before he can stop himself. He clenches his fists, glaring up at Jean, and irritation boils on the back of his tongue, desperate to form words but unable to grasp any coherency to do it. He’s more tired than he thought.
“It’s not like it’s something to be ashamed of,” Jean grouses, folding his arms across his chest. He’s getting embarrassed too, Eren can tell, but he can’t get a grip on himself enough to really register it. “Since when did we start keeping secrets from each other?”
Eren bites his tongue on the truth, because he’s been keeping a secret since tenth grade, and he’s never known what to do with it.
“Or is it something else?” Jean tilts his head and narrows his eyes. He doesn’t know when to fuck off, and he never has, and Eren’s starting to feel less annoyed and more genuinely afraid. “Are you gay or something? Because you know I don’t care about that, right?”
The fear curls deeper within Eren, washing over him, leaving him numb. Jean’s a smart guy, always has been. He’s going to hit the truth sooner rather than later.
Eren can’t help himself when he jumps to his feet, hands fisted at his sides.
“I care!” he shouts, his voice wavering. Jean blinks at him, surprise written all over his face. “You think I want to feel like this? You think I don’t know that—that that person doesn’t like me like that? I know, Jean.”
Eren has to stop talking. He has to.
But he can’t.
“I already know you—you don’t—”
Jean’s eyes widen in understanding, and Eren can already feel humiliated tears burning behind his eyes.
He watches his friend flounder for a second that feel like an hour, before Jean finally clears his throat and murmurs, “Eren...”
And Eren knows that face, that tone of voice. He knows Jean.
He knows Jean doesn’t feel that way for him.
It’s all over Jean’s pained expression, the nervous way he’s twisting his fingers in his lap.
“Just forget it,” Eren croaks, his entire body shaking with anxious energy, with embarrassment, with anger.
Before Jean can reply, Eren turns on his heel and stomps across the hall into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and turning on the radio so he doesn’t have to think. He takes his sweet time in the shower, running the water too hot and the music too loud to drown himself out, and by the time Eren’s just begun to calm down, the shower’s starting to run cold.
Some tiny, hopeful part of him had been hoping that when he barged back into his room, Jean would still be there. That maybe, maybe, there’s a chance.
When he opens his door, his room is empty. Jean’s gone, as are his laptop and textbooks and flashcards and hoodies, and Eren’s stomach sinks.
--
He doesn’t really see Jean much after that. They still have classes together, but things are getting hectic, so there’s not much chance for them to interact. The bare chances they would get, though, Jean’s nowhere to be seen.
They manage to do their one cooperative presentation together with civility, but Jean doesn’t look at Eren the entire time, and Eren tries not to either, because every time he watches Jean duck away from him, that bad feeling swallows him whole and leaves him unable to breathe. So he just does his bare minimum, and they part ways as the class politely claps for them and the teacher takes over again.
The rest of the week passes in a blur, and when winter break hits, Eren’s at a loss for what to do with himself.
His phone barely goes off over the entire break, but every time the compact Nokia brick rattles against his desk, Eren’s heart jumps into his throat.
It’s never Jean, though. Not once.
--
When school starts up again, Eren’s determined to play it cool. He says hi to his friends, asks them about their breaks, complains about not having enough time off.
When he sees Jean in the hallway, Eren composes himself, looking as relaxed as he’s ever managed as he calls, “Hey, blondie, you finally get that Half-Life 2 game for Christmas?”
Jean blinks at him, and Eren fidgets slightly, trying to communicate with his eyes and with his body that he wants to move past this. That he wants things to be normal again. That he won’t be weird about it if Jean isn’t.
“Yeah,” Jean finally replies, stalking up to lean against the locker next to him. “But it’s probably too creepy for you.”
Snorting loudly, Eren crosses his arms and raises a skeptical eyebrow. “What, you think I can’t handle some pointy basement aliens?”
“No way, dude, this one’s way different. The aliens look crazy.” Jean hesitates for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, and Eren does his best to exude an aura of ‘nothing about this is weird.’ Jeans seems to take his unspoken word for it. “You wanna come over after school and see? I bet you don’t go ten minutes before you piss yourself.”
“You’re on, asshole,” Eren laughs. Jean gives him a crooked smile and punches him lightly on the arm, but before he can respond, the bell for first period trills.
They move through the hallway, talking and laughing the same as they always have, and nothing weird happens.
--
That squirmy feeling had died down over the break, over the long silence between them, but before long, it crops back up again.
Eren deals with it, though. He lies about it, and crushes it down, and tries not to think about it.
He can get past this.
--
Although Jean and Eren end up going to the same university, they don’t see each other much during freshman year. They’re in different dorms and different majors, and Eren picked his classes way later than Jean, so their schedules end up being completely incompatible.
They still text each other, though, and sometimes play games together on weekends, but most of the time, they’re both just too damn busy.
Eren had figured that his stupid ass crush would finally die during this time apart.
Unfortunately, every time his phone vibrates, and he looks down and sees Jean’s name, his stomach still curls and flutters. He’s too used to it by now, though, so he just keeps shoving it back down.
He figures it has to go away eventually.
--
It doesn’t.
--
It’s late on a Saturday night in July when Eren’s phone rings. He’s home for the summer, happy to be relaxing, even if it is unbearably hot in his room.
He picks his buzzing phone up and sees Jean’s name, and as always, he ignores the persistent fluttering as he picks up and answers. “Hey, man.”
“Hhhhey, Eren,” comes the unsteady reply. Eren’s never heard Jean like this, but he knows well enough what a drunk asshole sounds like. “What’s up, bud?”
Eren rolls his eyes, lazily burying his free hand in his hair. “Nothing much. Sweating to death. Did you seriously just call me ‘bud?’”
Jean hums thoughtfully. Eren hears people in the background, talking and laughing over some lame-sounding music. “I guess so, huh.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Me?” Jean squeaks, entirely unconvincing. “No way, I’ve just had like. Three beers. Or four.”
Eren closes his eyes with a put-upon sigh, which he makes sure Jean can hear. “Just thought I’d ask, ‘cause you sound stupid drunk.”
“I resent that,” Jean huffs. He almost sounds like he’s pouting, and Eren hates how cute he finds it. “I’m never stupid, thank you very much.”
“Mm, beg to differ.”
“Dick.”
Eren snickers, slinging his free arm over his eyes. “That’s me. So why are you drunk dialing me, anyway? Don’t you have an ex to cry to or something, like a normal person?”
“No,” Jean grumbles, sounding even poutier. “Do I look like I have the time for a girlfriend?”
“Most people make time, my dude.” Eren doesn’t bother to acknowledge his own hypocrisy.
“Well, I haven’t.” Jean pauses, then bleats a very drunk, very stupid, very pretty-sounding laugh that Eren hates that he loves the sound of. “Fuck, you’re actually the closest thing I have to an ex, isn’t that sad?”
Eren feels like someone just walked up and punched him right in the gut.
“Pretty fucking sad,” he manages to reply, hoping to god his voice isn’t trembling.
They never talked about it. Ever. About how Eren all but confessed to Jean, about the tantrum he threw doing so, about how Jean walked out on him and proceeded to avoid him for god knows how long. The topic had just died, and Eren had been happy to let it go. Hell, even he’d almost forgotten about it, even if he hasn’t forgotten his stupid crush.
He really thought Jean had forgotten about all of it.
“I can’t believe you liked me,” Jean mumbles, breaking Eren out of his wandering train of thought. “Oh god, you don’t still—”
“Oh, relax,” Eren says quickly, desperate to salvage the situation. “I got over you pretty quick. You know how high school crushes are.”
It’s a lie. It’s such a fucking lie.
There’s a brief pause, but god, it feels like an age.
Finally, Jean says, “Oh,” and Eren can’t help but notice that he almost sounds... disappointed.
Probably just Eren’s imagination.
“Well, that’s good,” Jean finally says, sounding more like he had before. There’s a loud clunk then, like Jean had gone to drink his beer but clumsily knocked the bottle against his phone. “I’m—I treasure our friendship,” Jean continues, and Eren can’t help but snort at him.
“Wow, gay,” he says flatly, ignoring Jean’s outraged sound. “You’re super drunk, dude.”
“I am not,” Jean insists. “This party just sucks. No one here besides Connie and Sasha have played any of the Resident Evil games.”
“They’re missing out.”
“I know.” Jean sniffs slightly, still pouting. “I kinda wanna leave.”
Eren wakes up at that, already halfway sitting up. “Do you need a ride?”
“No, no.” Before Eren can grill him further, Jean mumbles, “I’m at Connie’s house.”
At that, Eren relaxes again. Connie’s lived next door to Jean their whole lives, so Jean isn’t far from home. “Well, go home and go to bed then.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna.” Eren hears the sound of glass clattering together, most likely bottles in a recycling bin. “Heyyy, if I’m not too dead tomorrow, wanna hang out?”
Eren sighs softly. “Only if you turn on the air conditioning.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever.” There’s another long pause, and during the silence, Eren realizes he doesn’t hear the music anymore. Jean must have cut through Connie’s backyard, leaving the party behind without a second thought.
Eren listens to the sound of Jean opening the gate to his own backyard, creaky as it’s always been, and just as he’s about to say goodnight, Jean speaks again, his voice hushed.
“Sorry we didn’t hang out more this year,” he mumbles, sounding less drunk and more sleepy. “I just—I dunno.”
“It’s whatever, man, we were busy.”
“Yeah,” Jean says, sounding like he believes Eren entirely, which is roughly what Eren had been aiming for. “Yeah.”
“Go to bed, dude,” Eren murmurs, hating how dumb and tender his voice sounds right now.
“Yeah.” There’s the sound of Jean opening his back door, the squeal of the screen door just barely contained enough to not wake Jean’s mother. Eren’s just about to hang up when he hears Jean whisper, “Hey, Eren?”
“Yeah?”
“I missed you.”
Eren’s heart folds in on itself. He feels a rush of warmth, of anxiety, of embarrassment, all coiled together into a fluttering that spreads all through his veins and leaves him fidgeting.
He may be able to lie about a lot of things, but something in him refuses to lie about this.
“Missed you too, man,” Eren sighs, hoping to god he doesn’t sound as mushy as he feels.
“Yeah. Okay, night.”
“Night.”
Eren ends the call, stares at the screen for a long moment, then tosses his phone onto his nightstand with a groan.
He’d already confessed to Jean once, and gotten a pretty definitive response. Jean’s not interested. Eren knows that. But still, he can’t quite let go, can’t quite soothe the turmoil inside him right now, and apparently not even two entire semesters of college between them was enough to rid of him of this curse.
Eren sighs heavily, throwing his arms over his face again.
Someday, he’ll really get over Jean.
Someday.
--
ii.
It’s Jean’s idea for them to move into a dinky off-campus apartment together junior year. Two years in a dorm is more than enough for any one person, and by now both of them are relatively well-versed in balancing a part-time job with their workload. Besides, Eren’s one of the few people Jean can tolerate for long periods of time, despite the occasional butting heads.
Jean figures it won’t be a problem. They’re best friends, they trust each other, and Eren got over him a long time ago, so there’s no issue.
Not that Jean still thinks about that.
Not at all.
--
Living with Eren is so much easier than Jean expected it to be.
Although Eren’s childhood bedroom had been a disaster zone at all times, his room now is surprisingly neat. Two years of living in a dorm room roughly the size of a closet had apparently taught him the appeal of minimalism. He keeps up on his chores and his half of the bills too, for the most part, thanks to an incredibly complicated system of phone alarms and post-it notes stuck to random walls or pieces of furniture at roughly eye-level. Jean figures it’s an ADHD thing and doesn’t mess with it.
When Jean’s studying or stressed out or trying to catch some extra sleep, Eren is considerate of Jean’s need for absolute silence, keeping his loud music confined to his headphones. Jean would return the favor, except that Eren is one of those people who cannot peacefully coexist with silence, so Jean makes it up to him by bringing him dinner and coffee on the nights when Eren’s neck-deep in a textbook and on the verge of pulling his hair out.
Jean had guessed this would be pretty easy, but as usual, Eren surpasses his expectations entirely. Living with him comes as easily as breathing.
--
Jean comes home to the sounds of frantic button-mashing and muffled cursing. It’s been a long, irritating day, so those sounds should probably just annoy Jean more, but for whatever reason, they don’t. They never do.
Once he’s kicked his shoes off, he moves over to stand next to the couch, glancing at the TV Eren’s parents had bought them for Christmas, and winces as some enormous, grotesque demon boss lays waste to Eren’s unfortunate character.
“Oh, bullshit,” Eren spits, slumping back against the couch and throwing his hands up. “I dodged, dude.”
Jean, who hadn’t seen any maneuver of the sort, just makes a noncommittal sound.
Eren drops the controller on his lap and runs a hand through his hair, looking up at Jean. “Rough day?”
How Eren always manages to read Jean through and through with just a glance is a mystery. Jean wishes he could say it made him feel weird. Instead, he just shrugs one shoulder and collapses onto the couch beside his friend, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “Same old.”
“Need me to turn it off?”
Jean blinks at his friend, who’s idly waving the controller. The menu’s already up on the screen, ready to exit out, like Eren isn’t a boss fight and a half from finishing the game.
“Nah,” Jean says finally, slouching further into the couch. “You’re good.”
Eren hums, then cancels out of the menu and leans forward, teeth fiddling with his tongue piercing the way he does when he’s trying to focus, getting right back into it.
Jean watches Eren fumble his way around the boss for a little while, allowing himself the time to unwind. Poking fun at Eren’s missteps cheers him up more than he’d expected. After a few tries, Jean eventually turns to sprawl along the couch, stuffing his feet between Eren’s warm back and the back of the couch.
It’s not an unusual position for them. They just kind of seem to fit together sometimes, like two pieces of a very strange puzzle.
While Eren’s working on that boss, Jean reaches down into his bag and grabs a stack of flashcards he’d been running through on the subway home. He settles into his impromptu nest of couch pillows and starts on them again, and as usual, Eren’s game sounds and mouth sounds don’t bother Jean in the least.
It occurs to him then that he’s happy.
Like, weirdly happy.
The couch is comfortable, his rough day is over, he doesn’t have much work to do tonight, and Eren’s presence is oddly soothing, even though he’s entered the stage of boss fight hyperfocus where his whole body twitches sometimes.
Jean really can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.
Once that thought has entered his head, it doesn’t leave. It just ricochets around his skull, distracting him entirely, and even the sudden racket of Eren leaping off the couch and whooping victoriously as the boss finally falls over doesn’t shake the thought away.
This is it, he thinks. This is home for him.
He raises an eyebrow and gives Eren a crooked smile, clapping sarcastically, laughing when his friend gives him an equally sarcastic bow, and still, this bone-deep feeling of contentment lingers.
--
Jean really starts worrying about his sanity the night he comes home late from a bar trip with some classmates and finds Eren standing in the kitchen, his hands threaded deep into some dude’s short blonde hair, their tongues tangled, his hands fumbling insistently at Eren’s belt.
“Jesus, dude,” Jean blurts before he can really think about it, his tongue loosened by a few beers.
“Oh, shit,” Eren replies, sounding a little stoned himself. He pulls away from the guy, who Jean vaguely recognizes from one of his classes, and who gives him an embarrassed smile as he removes his hands from the fastenings of Eren’s pants. “Yeah, common area, sorry. We’ll move.”
And with that, Eren grabs the guy’s hand and tugs him into his room, closing the door firmly after them.
Jean stays frozen in the doorway for a few long seconds after that before he finally gets it together and closes it, kicking off his shoes. From behind Eren’s door, he can hear the guy’s soft giggling, and for some reason, it annoys him.
Like, a lot.
Huffing irritably, Jean stomps through the apartment and into his own bedroom, closing the door maybe a little harder than absolutely necessary. For his own sanity, he pulls on his headphones and collapses into bed, turning up his music loud enough that he doesn’t have to hear anything else. He doesn’t need to know a damn thing about Eren’s sex life, thanks very much.
--
The next morning is Jean’s waking nightmare.
The dude is still here.
Jean’s leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee and glancing through his phone when Eren’s door creaks open and the guy slips out. He’s grinning to himself as he closes it gently, at least until he turns around, sees Jean standing there, and freezes up.
“O-oh,” is all the guy can think to say.
In an effort to look nonchalant, Jean crosses his ankles and drops his gaze to his phone again, leaning his head toward the door. “Door’s right there.”
The guy crosses his arms and squints at Jean, and it’s about right then that Jean remembers his name (Steve), and also decides he hates him. “You look really familiar, do I know you?”
Jean rolls his eyes and gives up on his phone, dropping it into his sweats pocket. “We have the same calc teacher. Ackerman, Tuesday and Thursday.”
Steve snaps his fingers. “That’s right! You always sit by the window. The light’s really good on you.” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at that, and Steve shrugs. “Obnoxious photography major, sorry. Can’t help it.” He glances at his phone and hums, then smiles back up at Jean. “Well, I have to get going. See you Tuesday.”
There is nothing on Earth Jean would like less, but he bites his tongue on that thought. He figures his expression is probably sour enough to get the point across.
He doesn’t say anything as Steve ties his shoes, whistling some off-tune pop song the radio’s been fond of, nor when the guy stands up and stretches. Steve’s testing his limits, though, when he winces and drops a hand to his lower back, groaning and twisting his back.
Jean can’t think about that. He just grinds his teeth, then sips his coffee again, if only to force his jaw to relax.
Fortunately, Steve leaves without taking any more shots at him. Not that he really had been, but Jean’s on edge, and he’s not even entirely sure why. Before Jean can retreat to his room, though, Eren’s door opens again, revealing his extremely shirtless, extremely sleep-ruffled friend.
Eren yawns widely, scratching his bare stomach as he moves to the pot of coffee Jean had brewed. “Steve left?” he says, voice rough.
Jean grits his teeth again. “Yes.”
“Huh.” Eren leans back against the counter, lifting his mug to his lips almost thoughtfully. “Hey, you know that guy, right?”
“Not really. He’s in my calc class.”
“Huh,” Eren says again, and Jean doesn’t understand how Eren can be so calm about this. He catches himself in that thought, though, and realizes he doesn’t really understand why he can’t be calm. “His last name is something weird, right? Like some famous person?”
“Rogers.” It’s out of Jean’s mouth before he can think twice about it. “It’s Rogers.”
Eren frowns thoughtfully, stuffing one hand into the pocket of his sweats. “Wow. I fucked Captain America.” A bolt of raw anger shoots through Jean then, settling ugly and unpleasant in his stomach. Eren, completely unaware, continues, “He’s definitely more pre-serum Cap, but I didn’t mind—”
Jean slams his mug down on the table. He hadn’t meant to, really. It just... happened.
Before Eren can open his mouth again, Jean mumbles, “I’m going to the library,” and makes his quick escape.
He does end up going to the library for the rest of the afternoon, but he doesn’t get much studying done. He just confines himself to the silent stacks and stares blankly at his textbook, hands tangled in his hair, entirely unable to focus on anything at all.
--
A few weeks later, Jean realizes he’s an enormous asshole.
It happens one casual afternoon, when Eren’s struggling to cram for an exam the next day, tense and crabby the way he gets when his meds aren’t working quite right, and he’s struggling.
“You need help with that?” Jean asks, jovial from having finished his own round of midterms.
Eren stops rifling through his notes for a moment, his eyes searching the paper but not really seeing it, his brain working overtime to process Jean’s offer. He gives up quickly, though, and waves him off with a grunt. Jean just shrugs, used to Eren’s occasional brusqueness, and instead moves to brew a pot of coffee for them. While it’s brewing, he orders a pizza on his phone, because he figures Eren probably hasn’t registered his appetite all day.
It happens when Jean brings Eren a good-sized mug of coffee, brewed way too dark, just the way Eren likes it. He tosses his phone onto Eren’s textbook too, showing him the order receipt, and says, “Dinner’s on me.”
Eren groans loudly and slumps back in his chair, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, and turns Jean’s whole world on end with one slurred, offhand comment.
“God, I love you.”
Everything clicks in Jean’s head then. It clicks, and he understands, and it’s fucking horrible because Eren doesn’t.
Eren doesn’t love him.
He got over him.
And Jean finally realizes that his recent persistent problem is that at some point, he fell in love with Eren.
But it’s too late. He missed that boat by a few years.
He’s so busy having a crisis that he doesn’t notice the way Eren tenses up, the way he stares at him for a second before he hunches over his textbook again with a mumbled thanks. Jean just panics silently into his coffee mug, and once the pizza comes, he takes his half into his room and hides away, trying desperately to come to terms with how extremely fucked he is, and how it’s no one’s fault but his own.
--
Everything makes a little more sense once Jean realizes what’s going on. How easy it is being around Eren, how comfortable he feels just existing near him, how much he craves his company when they’re too busy to hang out much.
It makes sense, but it also makes Jean completely miserable.
Eren’s not making matters better, either. He just keeps wandering around their apartment being himself, being that dork that Jean somehow fell for, doing all the little things he does that make Jean’s chest flood with warmth, with affection that he hasn’t really earned the right to feel. He keeps smiling those smiles, keeps laughing at Jean’s shitty jokes, keeps being impossibly beautiful in the evening sun streaming through the blinds.
Jean doesn’t know how to stop this, now that it’s started. He doesn’t even know where to begin. Every time he thinks he’s making progress, Eren just has to exist in Jean’s line of sight, and Jean finds himself wanting him all over again.
--
Jean’s at his wit’s end.
Not only does he have an incredibly brutal round of finals in front of him, his situation with Eren isn’t improving at all. He’s started dreaming about him, dreaming about being in his proximity, basking in his warmth, being held in his strong arms, brushing his smiling lips against Eren’s, and every time he wakes up, he remembers that that’s something he can’t have, and it devastates him.
He’s probably being dramatic, but he likes to think he’s earned the right somehow.
At the moment, Eren isn’t home from work, but he will be soon. Jean’s sitting on the floor in front of their coffee table, running through every equation he’s ever learned and some he swears he hasn’t, his hair on end, subsisting entirely on coffee and desperation.
He’s staring vacantly at a particularly gross formula when the key turns in the lock. Normally, he’d at least greet Eren over his shoulder, but Jean’s overwhelmed and generally kind of upset, so he just buries his hands deeper in his hair and continues staring fruitlessly down at his notebook. Eren calls out a greeting anyway, dropping his keys on the counter and rifling through the mail Jean hadn’t bothered to look through.
Jean rubs his thumbs against his temples, listening to Eren hum idly, opening a few letters and reading through them.
“Oh, our lease is up soon,” Eren says after a few minutes, and that breaks Jean out of his reverie. He glances back over his shoulder, entirely sure he looks as haunted as he feels, but Eren just waves the letter at him. “Wanna just renew it?” Jean opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Eren gives him a crooked grin. “I mean, unless you’re sick of me leaving my socks all over the apartment and you secretly wanna move out.”
There’s an awkward silence. Jean still can’t find his words, and Eren’s face falls.
“Wait, do you really want to move out?”
Jean doesn’t know what the fuck is wrong with him when he opens his mouth and all that comes out is, “Maybe.”
Eren looks crushed, so Jean stares back down at his notebook instead. The figures are starting to swim a little.
The silence continues, until Eren moves through the apartment and sits heavily on the couch behind Jean. He studies the back of Jean’s head for a long moment, then finally asks, “Can we talk about it?”
God, Eren’s voice sound so small, so hurt, and he doesn’t deserve that. Because Jean doesn’t want to move out. He doesn’t. He doesn’t know why he’s even considering it. It’s not like moving out will magically cure him of having feelings for Eren. It’d just hurt them both, and probably leave them both in worse situations.
“M-maybe it’d be better,” Jean croaks, and god dammit, that’s not what he means. It’s not what he believes, either, but anxiety is cresting in his chest and he can’t stop his stupid ass mouth from making stupid ass words. “Maybe it’d be easier. I don’t know.”
Eren mulls that over for a minute, and Jean can’t bring himself to look at him. He just hunches over further, his hands twisting in his lap, trying not to lose it altogether.
“Is it—am I bothering you somehow?”
Jean shakes his head quickly at that, because Eren’s never bothered him. Not even when he tried. To his horror, when he goes to take a breath, maybe try to back things up to a more reasonable place, his chest hitches, and a feeble, shaky sound comes out. The swimming in his eyes is getting worse, too, but he doesn’t even know where to begin anymore, so he just curls into himself further and squeaks, “No.”
“Okay,” Eren says slowly. Jean hears him shuffling behind him, moving closer and setting the lease notice aside, but he still jolts when Eren rests his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, hey, are you—”
Even biting his lip as hard as he can doesn’t stop Jean’s breath from shivering out of him, wet and uneven, and it’s pretty far past the point where can pretend he’s not crying, so he just stops trying. He drops his head onto his notebook with a choked sob, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to catch his breath.
Eren, bless his heart, immediately slides onto the floor beside him, running a soothing hand up and down Jean’s trembling back. He presses up against him and tries to get his attention, tries to calm him down, which just makes Jean cry harder, because of course Eren would worry about him.
“Jean, come on, talk to me, please?” Eren scoots closer and wraps an arm around Jean’s shoulders, pulling him against his chest, holding him like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him. Jean loves it, loves the feeling, and hates himself for it.
Still, he lets Eren hold him, burying his face in his hands and getting it all out of his system. His work stress, his exam stress, most of the tension he’s been feeling for weeks being released in a slow, gross, cathartic flow as he finally stops bottling it up. Eren doesn’t seem to mind, though, his arms tight around him as he rocks them gently, his cheek warm on top of Jean’s head.
“Dude, I told you six classes at once was too many,” Eren says after a while, his voice so soft, so gentle Jean can’t help but huff a wet laugh.
“Yeah, you did.”
Eren hums, rubbing his cheek against Jean’s hair once more before he pulls back enough to look at him. Somehow, he doesn’t seem repulsed by the flushed, tear-stained mess Jean knows he must be, which is a miracle in and of itself. Eren gives him a small, crooked smile, dragging his thumb soothingly over the nape of Jean’s neck, before he murmurs, “Can we talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to say,” Jean huffs.
“Yeah, bullshit.”
Jean shakes his head and scrubs his hands down his face, exhausted and honestly pretty embarrassed. “It’s nothing you did,” he manages. “It’s me. I’m just—a huge asshole.”
“Okay?” Eren breathes a soft laugh at that. “Water is wet, tomorrow is Sunday? Any other breaking news?”
With a snort, Jean shoves at Eren’s chest, but he doesn’t move away, and Jean’s not sure if he’s grateful for that or not. “Dick.”
“Yeah, well, you love me, so.” Jean freezes at that, then stares up at Eren, who’s giving him a wide, sad smile. That smile falls as Jean fails to find words, though, and Eren’s eyes widen. “J-Jean?”
“I’m—” Jean chokes on his words and swallows heavily, unable to look away from his friend’s face. “It’s—it’s too late for that.”
No going back now.
Eren repeats his name, obviously confused.
“I missed that boat, Eren,” Jean continues, belatedly realizing he’s crying again. “You liked me once, but—but you got over me, and I was fine with that. I was. I swear. B-but then we started living together, and I’m fucking stupid, so I—I fell in love with you somehow.” Eren’s gaping at him now, and as long as he’s speechless Jean just can’t fucking stop talking. “I don’t even know how it happened, but it did, but I already broke your heart once and that’s my fault and I’m sorry, and now I’m just—” Jean’s voice breaks, tears streaming down his face, and Eren’s still just staring. “Now I’m just that asshole who’s in love with his best friend.”
“Holy shit,” Eren says breathlessly, and Jean crumbles in on himself, withering with anxiety.
“S-so I think it’d be easier for you,” Jean wheezes, “If—if we didn’t live together. So you could live your life without me being a jealous fucking gargoyle on your shoulder—”
“Jean,” Eren finally blurts, pressing his hands against Jean’s soaked cheeks and catching his eyes again. “Jean, I fucking lied.”
Jean blinks widely, sending a fresh wave of tears down Eren’s thumbs. “Wh-what?”
Eren swallows, but visibly steels himself.
“I lied. I never got over you. I just—I didn’t want shit to get weird between us, because I still wanted to be around you. So, like, you might be the asshole who’s in love with his best friend, but joke’s on you, because I’ve been that asshole since we were fifteen.” Eren wets his lips, dragging his thumbs through the sticky tracks of Jean’s tears, before continuing, his voice low and trembling, “I never stopped being in love with you.”
Jean’s entirely unsure what to do with this information. His head is swimming, and he can’t really form a coherent thought that isn’t just Eren’s words echoing around his skull, so he lets his body do his thinking for him.
He leans in hard and crushes his lips against Eren’s, squeezing his eyes shut, his hands gripping Eren’s sides. Eren freezes for a fraction of a second, then tilts into him, meeting him just as enthusiastically. He pulls Jean closer and presses their lips together again and again, his warm breath trembling between kisses, and Jean’s head is absolutely spinning from the feeling. Eren’s lips are soft, softer than he’d expected. Jean can’t get enough of them.
Eren shifts them slightly so they can press together less awkwardly, his hand moving to the back of Jean’s head, fingers carding gently through short blonde hair. Jean sighs shakily and leans into him, dizzy with Eren’s affection.
After a while, but too soon in Jean’s opinion, Eren sits back and looks at him again, his pretty green eyes bright with tears. He bites his lip, then leans in for one more soft kiss, like he can’t help himself, before finally mumbling, “When was the last time you slept, dude.”
Jean huffs against him, gently pinching his side in retaliation. “Last night, asshole. I’m effectively sober, if not entirely sane.”
Eren hums in reply. He leans his forehead against Jean’s, one arm going to loop around his waist, tugging him closer. “How long have you been sitting on this?”
“Don’t really know,” Jean says, and it’s the unfortunate truth. “I kind of realized it for real a month or so ago, when you said you loved me for bringing you coffee.”
At that, Eren gives him a chagrined look. “Oh, that. Yeah, it kinda just... slipped out.”
Jean blinks widely. “You remember?”
“Of course I do,” Eren snorts, shaking his head. “I only beat myself up about it for days. I thought I made you so damn uncomfortable.”
“Not really.” Jean sighs and leans into Eren’s embrace, draping his arms around his waist. “Not like that, anyway. I just... I dunno. It all kinda clicked there, and I didn’t really know what to do about it.”
“Well, I guess now you know.”
“Guess so.”
Eren hums quietly, brushing a few sweet kisses through Jean’s hair. “Still wanna move out?”
“Not unless you want me to, no.”
“Nope.” Eren tilts Jean’s chin up so he can catch his lips again, kissing him slow and tender, like they have all the time in the world. “Sure don’t.”
“Okay.” Jean smiles against Eren, nibbling gently at his lower lip. “Guess we renew, huh.”
Eren grins at that and nods. “It’s a good enough apartment.”
“Yeah.” Jean licks his lips, then leans in for more kisses, so damn enthralled by how nice it feels to hold Eren, to be held by him in reality, instead of in some foggy, insufficient dream space. Eren sighs and tilts his head slightly, his relaxed posture the picture of contentment.
“So, uh,” Eren mumbles, his lips still pressed against Jean’s. “You need help studying?”
Jean leans back just enough to raise a critical eyebrow at Eren. “If you really think I’m going back to derivatives tonight, you’re out of your mind.”
“I mean, I didn’t want you to,” Eren laughs, “I just thought I’d offer.”
“How kind of you,” Jean replies flatly, earning himself a wide grin. “My finals aren’t going anywhere, but honestly, I kind of just want you all over me right now, so they’re gonna have to wait.”
Eren’s eyebrow twitches in interest at that, his teeth catching his lip as he quickly glances Jean up and down. “Sounds good to me.”
Humming agreeably, Jean uses the couch to pull himself to his feet, easily hauling Eren up after him. Eren moves right into his space and rests his hands on Jean’s hips, pulling him close and leaning up to catch his lips again. Jean lets himself enjoy the sensation for a few seconds, idly combing his fingers through Eren’s soft, dark hair, before he mumbles, “You should let me wash my face first, though.”
Eren snorts and shakes his head. “I don’t mind your face, but sure, go ahead.”
Jean rolls his eyes, hopelessly charmed, before turning and moving into the bathroom to wash the tears off his face. Once he’s done, he turns and nearly runs into Eren, who had been hovering just outside the door, looking like he doesn’t quite know what to do with his body. Jean’s not much better, but he smirks at Eren anyway, because the look on Eren’s face when he teases him has never failed to make Jean happy.
“C’mon, nerd,” Jean laughs, but before he can pull Eren into his room, Eren shakes his head and tugs him back against himself.
“We are not messing around on your bed,” Eren says, his words muffled between kisses. Jean leans into them, then registers Eren’s words and pulls back to pout.
“What’s wrong with my bed?”
“It’s falling apart, dude. It won’t survive.”
Jean blinks at him, and he knows Eren has a good point, but he’s focused less on that and more on the idea of himself, Eren, and breaking furniture. It must show on his face, because Eren gives him a downright devious grin, then pulls him into his own bedroom instead. It’s more disorganized, but Eren’s bed is definitely intact, which is as good a jumping off point as any.
Rather than hopping right into Eren’s mussed sheets, though, Jean turns around and pulls Eren into another slow, deep kiss, leaning into him with a low hum. Eren sighs softly, wrapping his arms around him, and as he’s soothing his palms along Jean’s spine, he slips his tongue between his lips, and all Jean can do is melt for him.
As they’re kissing, Eren slides his hands under the loose hem of Jean’s shirt, dragging his thumbs slowly along the line of Jean’s hipbones before stepping back just enough to tug the fabric up. Jean helps him pull it off, eager to be rid of it, then watches as Eren makes quick work of his own shirt. He tosses it aside, running a hand through his messy hair, then reaches out and pulls Jean against him again, leaning up to him just as Jean is ducking to kiss him.
They’ve definitely seen each other shirtless before, but this is first time they’ve been so close, the brush of their skin so warm, so intimate it leaves Jean shivering. He sighs against Eren’s lips, then happily tangles their tongues again, humming at how sweet, how sincere Eren’s kisses feel.
As much as Jean’s enjoying this, Eren’s hands on his waist, thumbs brushing along sensitive skin, he can’t help but want more, now that he knows he’s allowed to have it. He turns them easily, then guides Eren back onto the bed, climbing into his lap without hesitation. Eren’s hands find his hips again, pulling him close, and the crooked grin on his face is so happy, so pretty Jean can’t help but lean over him on his elbows so he can kiss him some more.
Eren hums into him, slipping him his tongue again, and Jean parts his lips happily, sighing hot at how nice it feels to kiss him, so much better than he’d ever dreamed of. Eren’s slow and insistent, happy to take the lead, but even as he distracts Jean entirely, he keeps his hands moving. He drags one hand between them, trailing his fingers through the sparse hair leading into Jean’s pants, before he flattens his palm against Jean’s stomach and drags it up, taking his sweet time touching him. He pauses to gently circle his thumb around one of Jean’s nipples, the touch just enough to tease a hitched breath out of him before he moves on.
He ends up wrapping his hand around the nape of Jean’s neck and tugging him closer, their chests pressed firmly together, his free hand idly petting Jean’s thigh. With a shiver, Jean licks into him, then spreads his knees just enough to drop his hips against Eren’s, giving a slow, tentative grind against him.
At that, Eren drags both of his hands to Jean’s hips and squeezes, groaning into their kiss and arching up into him. Jean’s breath stutters, but before he can grind down again, Eren reaches a hand between them and palms over Jean’s cock through his pants. Jean huffs a soft moan, rubbing himself against Eren’s hand, and Eren rumbles a low, pleased sound at how hard he is already.
As much as Jean loves the feeling of Eren’s hands on him, he can’t help but feel a little impatient. He wants more, wants to wrap himself around Eren until he forgets anything else exists.
He sits up, licking his lips at the flushed, pretty picture his friend makes under him, and bats Eren’s hand away from his cock. Before Eren can worry, Jean leans up on his knees slightly and unfastens his pants, opening them just enough to tug his briefs down and let his cock bounce out.
Eren’s gaze drags down Jean’s body, and his eyes go dark and hot when he sees just how hard he’s made him, his hands tightening on Jean’s thighs.
“See something you like?” Jean asks, unable to resist. Eren flicks his eyes back up to him, biting his lip around a crooked grin as he nods. That expression sends a fresh surge of want all through Jean, curling warm between his hips, so he sighs and grabs one of Eren’s hands, then tentatively guides it back to his arousal.
The way Eren wraps his fingers around him, steady and sure but so damn gentle, has Jean licking his lips again before he even starts moving. When he does, though, Eren strokes him slow and firm, his gaze flicking between his hand and Jean’s face, like he can’t quite decide where he wants to look the most. Jean decides to make it worth his while, not bothering to mask how affected he is, lips parted around quickening breath, his hips rolling in time with Eren’s hand.
“Fuck, Jean,” Eren rasps, and before Jean can preen at the attention, Eren’s sitting up against him, then rolling them over with a firm twist of his hips.
Jean falls back against the bed with a laugh, but he lets Eren settle over him, a wide grin on his flushed face. It’s a damn good look for him, so Jean reaches up and pulls him down for more kisses, hitching one knee over Eren’s hip to keep him close.
He’s barely distracted by the smooth slide of Eren’s tongue against his when Eren reaches between them again, wrapping his fingers around him and moving back into his steady rhythm from before. The feeling has Jean shivering, a breathy moan slipping out of him unrestrained, and the sound just seems to encourage Eren.
Eren groans against him and squeezes him gently, then shifts his weight so he’s straddling one of Jean’s thighs. As he’s stroking him, Eren kisses him absolutely brainless, so talented with his hands and his tongue that it takes Jean a long second to realize that Eren’s grinding his own aching arousal against his hip. When he does catch on, though, he can’t help but moan for him, slipping his hands around to grip Eren’s ass and pull him into a better rhythm, slow and firm and god the way Eren moves his hips makes Jean want him even more.
He huffs against Eren’s lips and reaches for the fastenings of his pants, grumbling, “These have to go now.”
Snickering quietly, Eren nudges his nose against Jean’s, then shifts his weight so Jean can push his pants down under his ass, coaxing his aching cock out of his underwear. Unable to resist the urge to look, Jean squirms under him, then pushes lightly on Eren’s chest so he can see the hard length resting heavy on the line of his hip.
A silver glint catches in the evening sunlight, though, and derails his train of thought entirely.
Whatever face he’s making makes Eren laugh, loud and pretty, but the sound isn’t enough to distract Jean from the fact that Eren definitely has his dick pierced.
“Did I not tell you about that?”
Jean flicks his eyes up to Eren’s, his heart fluttering at the gorgeous, teasing amusement all over his friend’s face. “Um, no?” Eren snickers, and Jean can’t help but pout a little. “What happened to best friends telling each other everything, huh?”
Eren quirks an eyebrow at him. “You mean everything besides the incredibly long, incredibly dumb crush?”
“Okay, fair point,” Jean grumbles, but he doesn’t have time to feel guilty about that right now. “I mean, I told you when I was thinking about getting my nipples pierced.” And Jean swears up and down that he did, but the way Eren’s eyes go almost comically wide, his smile falling in shock, and the way his cock twitches against Jean’s hip kind of tells another story. “D-didn’t I?”
“No the hell you didn’t,” Eren manages, leaning back over Jean so he can nip at his lower lip, stealing another brief, needy kiss while he’s there. “Trust me, if you did, I’d’ve spent the next month jerking off thinking about it.”
Jean laughs at that, but he knows he’s turning bright red, somewhere between flattered and turned on. “So you’re saying it’s a good idea.”
The sound Eren makes is low and rumbly and god, so hot. “It’s a fucking fantastic idea, if you’re down with taking a week off so I can play with them once they’ve healed.”
“Mm, I’ll consider penciling you in,” Jean says, squirming under Eren and pulling him into another languid kiss. He doesn’t have to do much to get Eren’s hands back on him, thankfully, huffing as he picks up right where he left off touching him.
Eager to return the favor, Jean reaches down and palms at Eren’s heavy arousal, wrapping his fingers around him and humming at how thick, how hot he is in his hand. Eren groans just at that, but when Jean matches his pace, carefully dragging the pad of his thumb between the studs of his piercing, spreading slick precome around, he has Eren gasping for him, his hips arching into the feeling.
“Fuck, Jean, you’re so hot,” Eren sighs, pulling away from his lips to bury his face in the crook of Jean’s neck, pressing hot, wet kisses against his pulse and leaving Jean writhing under him. “I can’t—can’t believe this isn’t a dream.”
“Pretty sure it’s not,” Jean laughs breathlessly. He pinches his own hip just to make sure, and he’s never been more grateful for the brief flash of pain from it. “Nope, confirmed reality.”
Eren huffs a laugh against his pulse, his grip on Jean tightening just barely. “Thank god.” He hums, then nibbles gently at Jean’s collarbone before sitting up again, that crooked grin back in full force as he grabs the waist of Jean’s pants. “I’m taking these, okay?”
“Definitely,” Jean snorts, lifting his hips helpfully. Eren tugs his pants and underwear off in one motion, tossing them aside carelessly before letting his hands rest on Jean’s bare thighs, taking another long moment to just look at him.
“God, you’re so pretty,” he says softly, and before Jean can squirm under his praise, Eren’s ducking down and pressing his lips against the inside of Jean’s thigh.
As he mouths up Jean’s sensitive skin, working his way toward the join of his thigh in slow, teasing kisses, Jean spreads his thighs more and reaches down to bury his hands in Eren’s soft hair. He brushes Eren’s bangs out of his face, licking his lips at the concentrated expression on his face as he nuzzles into Jean’s hip, his cheek brushing against his hard cock.
Jean stutters out a soft moan of Eren’s name, arching up into the feeling, and thankfully, Eren’s pretty quick to take the hint. He grins up at him, looping his strong arms under Jean’s thighs and pulling him closer, probably just to show off. Not that Jean minds.
The first press of Eren’s lips against the sensitive head of his cock has Jean trembling, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment before he forces them open again, unwilling to miss a moment of this. He pets Eren restlessly while he drags the flat of his tongue up Jean’s cock, and Jean may have known already that Eren’s tongue is pierced, but that doesn’t stop him from whining at the way that piercing feels on his skin.
Eren groans in return, either at the sound or at the taste of Jean’s precome on his tongue, then wraps his hand around the base of Jean’s cock and guides him between his lips properly, at which point Jean loses most of his brain function.
His mouth is so hot and wet, so soft, and the feeling of his tongue winding around him, gliding along aching flesh has Jean shuddering, struggling to keep his hips still. “Eren,” he gasps, tugging lightly on his hair, spreading his thighs more to encourage him. Eren hums around him, earning himself a pretty embarrassing squeak, and god, the way he looks when he glances up at Jean, his mouth too occupied to effectively smirk but his eyes narrowed in amusement has Jean’s heart pounding.
“Sh-shut up,” Jean manages, firmly ruffling Eren’s hair. Eren gives him half a shrug, but goes back to focusing on bobbing his head slowly over Jean’s cock, sucking and licking and generally driving Jean entirely crazy.
Jean’s always been a sucker for a good blowjob, but Eren is phenomenal, and Jean has no qualms about letting him know that. He pants and gasps and moans for him, twitching up into his attention and shuddering when Eren swallows around him. When Eren pulls back slightly, though, he puts that tongue piercing to work again, drawing languid patterns over the sensitive underside of his cock while he’s sucking him off, and it takes everything Jean has to not just come right then.
“Eren,” he gasps, tugging on his hair more insistently. Eren glances up at him, slowing his pace, his hands soothing over Jean’s hips. The pause lets Jean get himself together somewhat, so he licks his lips, then says, “Quit, or I’m gonna come.”
Eren quirks an eyebrow at him, but pulls off, stroking him slowly. “What if I wanna make you come?”
Jean shivers at that. “Trust me, I want that too, but I think I’d rather it be with your dick inside me.”
The look on Eren’s face is both priceless and incredibly arousing. Jean bites his lip and grins, curling his fingers behind Eren’s ear, loving the way he leans into the attention. “What, you mean I can’t have both?”
“Normally I’d say yes,” Jean laughs, dragging the pad of his thumb down Eren’s flushed cheek. “But I do actually have to study at some point.”
Eren rolls his eyes loudly, but crawls up to kneel between Jean’s thighs again. “Wow, you’re such a fucking buzzkill, you know that?”
“Sorry.” Jean grins up at him, then pulls him down into a deep, lazy kiss, easily wrapping his thighs around Eren’s waist. “I promise you can have all the afterglow you want. I just can’t spend the whole weekend having sex with you.”
“I don’t see why not,” Eren grouses, but he can’t exactly hide his wide smile. “Look, I’ll write a note to your teachers. ‘Jean is unable to attend classes this week, due to needing several years of romantic and sexual frustration fucked and then cuddled out of him, please reschedule accordingly.’ See? Easy.”
Jean’s howling with laughter, which has to be fairly unattractive. When he finally manages to open his eyes again, though, Eren’s grinning down at him, his dark, pretty eyes almost sparkling with mirth, with affection. He’s so goddamn gorgeous, and Jean makes a mental note to tell him so, but for now he just tugs Eren down for more kisses, unable to get enough of the way their lips fit perfectly together.
As they kiss, Eren sets to pulling his own pants the rest of the way off, tossing them aside in roughly the same direction he’d tossed Jean’s. He settles his weight on his elbows then, combing his fingers through Jean’s hair as he leans into him, and all Jean can really do is arch up against him, sighing hot between kisses and dragging his hands along Eren’s sides. Eren hums, letting Jean indulge in him for another long moment before he pulls away almost regretfully, but it’s only so he can reach over and root around in his nightstand drawer.
“You’re not allergic to latex, right?” Eren asks, waving a short strip of condoms at him with a raised eyebrow, and as touching as his concern is, Jean really can’t resist the urge to troll him.
“Oh my god, Eren, your dirty talk is so sexy, I can’t handle it.”
“Oh, shut up, you asshole,” Eren snorts. He shoves his drawer shut and leans down to playfully bite Jean’s lower lip, ignoring the enormous grin spreading across his face.
Jean snickers, “No, I’m not.” Eren huffs at him, grumbling something about giving him a hard time, but Jean just leans up and kisses him again, silencing his complaints with a clever twist of his tongue. When he falls back against the bed, Eren follows him eagerly, encouraged by the feeling of Jean’s fingers carding through his hair.
Rather than get too caught up in Jean’s attention, Eren pulls away and reaches for the bottle of lube he’d pulled out, making quick work of slicking his palm. He wraps his fingers around Jean’s cock again, at which Jean twitches, his lips parting around a soft gasp. Eren hums as he strokes him indulgently, and once he’s aching again, Jean’s precome slicking his fingers further, he pulls his hand away, leaving Jean arching up after him and groaning his disappointment.
“Damn tease,” Jean mumbles, although he’s not exactly complaining. Not really, anyway. He lets his hands fall onto the sheets above his head, idly tangling his fingers in his own hair as he wiggles his hips and sticks his tongue out at Eren, who just gives him a flushed grin.
Eren makes up for it, though, when he leans in close and nudges his nose against the turn of Jean’s jaw, then slips his fingers between them and rubs them firmly against Jean’s entrance.
Jean arches into the feeling, leaning his head back and moaning when Eren takes the opportunity to drag warm kisses down his throat. He relaxes for him, hoping to encourage him further, then shifts one of his hands to Eren’s strong bicep with a gentle squeeze. It doesn’t take more than that to get Eren moving, his kisses turning sweet, almost soothing as he slides a finger into him.
It’s been a while for Jean, but he remembers this feeling well enough and melts under Eren, sighing softly as he gives his arm another encouraging squeeze. Eren hums against his pulse, then thrusts his finger slowly, dragging it almost all the way out before slipping it back in. It must be enticing, based on the way Eren’s breath hitches, and the way he nuzzles into the crook of Jean’s neck again with a low groan. He keeps moving, thrusting slow and steady, and once Jean’s started rocking up against him, matching his rhythm easily, Eren pauses just long enough to work a second finger into him.
As impatient as Jean tends to be, he bites down on it for now, because Eren’s fingers feel rather nice inside of him, but more importantly, Eren seems to finally be losing his cool.
“God, Jean,” he whispers, his shaky breath hot against Jean’s collarbone. “You feel so good, you know that? Gonna feel so amazing around me, baby, can’t believe I get to have you like this...” And yeah, okay, Jean’s going to have take back any snark he’d had about Eren’s dirty talk, because the low rumble of his words against Jean’s ear has him whimpering.
“C’mon, Eren,” Jean manages once he’s caught his breath, burying his hands in Eren’s hair so he can pull him to his lips again. Eren moans against him, the sound so sweet, so enticing, and thankfully, he does pick up the pace a little.
He spreads his fingers gently, then buries them deep and curls them, carefully and curiously fingering him open until he finds the spot that has Jean shivering for him. Humming softly, Eren licks into him again as he focuses on that spot again, rubbing the tips of his fingers over it until Jean has to pull away from him for air, his eyes rolling closed as he gasps.
“That feel good?” Eren asks, his voice almost teasing if not for the rough undercurrent of arousal threaded through it. Jean nods anyway, blinking up at him again and licking his lips, but before he can compose himself, Eren’s moving his fingers again, still working him open but purposefully teasing that spot whenever he can. By the time he’s working a third finger into him, Jean’s dripping precome and shaking, clinging to Eren and gasping for him.
Tired of waiting, Jean reaches over and grabs the condoms Eren had dropped, hastily ripping one open. He reaches down and gives Eren a few slow strokes, mostly just because he wants to hear him moan again, then looks between them and focuses on rolling the condom onto him.
“You trying to tell me to hurry up?” Eren laughs, although he’s looking pretty impatient himself, his cock achingly hard, face flushed and hair all in disarray from Jean’s hands.
“Maybe a little.” Jean leans up and kisses him firmly, sucking his lower lip between his teeth and nibbling gently, which earns him a low, pretty groan. “C’mon, I’m ready for you.”
Eren huffs at that, nudging his nose against Jean’s, but he obliges and gently pulls his fingers out. He crawls closer, kneeling between Jean’s spread thighs, biting his lip as he looks him up and down, and Jean’s never had the greatest self-esteem, but the way Eren’s breath shudders out of him when he looks at him makes him feel pretty damn good.
“Like this okay?” Eren asks, his hands warm on Jean’s thighs.
Honestly, Jean wants Eren any way he can get him, but right now, the prospect of getting to see his face, to hold him and kiss him is too tempting. He nods quickly, shaking hands coming to rest on Eren’s waist, just holding onto him as Eren settles himself over him.
Eren brushes a kiss against the tip of Jean’s nose as he’s reaching between them to steady himself, at which Jean can’t help but laugh, but the sound is cut short by the feeling of Eren pressing against him.
It barely takes any coaxing for the head of Eren’s cock to slip inside Jean. They both pause for breath, Jean’s eyes rolling closed again, before Eren shifts closer, sliding deeper, groaning against Jean’s cheek as he fills him up so slow, so deep, so perfect it has Jean panting for him.
By the time he bottoms out, Eren’s panting too, his hands fisted in the sheets. Jean huffs a low moan of his name, shifting his hands to Eren’s shoulders so he can cling to him, his legs wrapped tight around him.
“Feels good, Eren,” Jean manages, his voice trembling wildly. “So good, fuck...”
Eren nods against him, then brushes a few brainless kisses against his jaw. “Can’t believe how amazing you feel,” he sighs, and god, his voice is so deep, so rough with arousal it has Jean melting. Nuzzling his cheek again, Eren drags his lips back to Jean’s, kissing him slow and insistent. Jean leans into the attention, gripping Eren’s shoulders, and fortunately, he doesn’t have to beg to get Eren to start moving.
Spreading his knees slightly, Eren pulls his hips back slowly, carefully, letting out the prettiest moan as he does. The sound has Jean arching against him, lips parting on a rushed sigh, but before he can collect himself, Eren’s thrusting back in, and Jean’s already seeing stars.
“Fuck, Eren,” Jean gasps, but he can’t finish that thought when Eren’s moving against him like this, his pace slow but needy, fucking into Jean in long strokes that have them both panting and shaking. Eren leans up enough that Jean can look at him, and god, he’s perfect like this, every part of him focused so hard on Jean, on Jean’s body, on taking them both higher. Jean can’t help the intense rush of affection he feels for him, but all he can do is moan his name again, the sound cracking when Eren buries himself deep.
It takes him a moment to realize that he’s digging his short nails into Eren’s shoulders. Eren doesn’t seem to be complaining, but Jean drops his hands anyway, fisting them in the sheets above his head and squirming into Eren’s steady rhythm.
Eren groans and kisses him again, then rests his weight above Jean on one elbow, grinding deep for a second as he adjusts his position. He starts moving again soon enough, back into that carefully controlled pace, but he reaches his free hand up and wraps his fingers around one of Jean’s wrists, dragging his thumb over his palm almost soothingly. Jean bites his lip and rocks up against him, his eyes fluttering at how good it feels to move in time with Eren.
With a stuttering moan of Jean’s name, Eren shifts his hand up more and laces their fingers together, squeezing tight and pressing their hands against the sheets. Jean shivers and murmurs his approval, then reaches to pull Eren down again, desperate for more of his affection.
As they’re kissing, Eren hums against him, then shifts his hips just slightly, looking for a better angle. Jean helps him, pulling his knees back a little and arching his back, and between them, they manage to find the angle that has Jean’s brain shorting out.
Eren feels perfect like this, so hard and heavy inside him, and now that he’s hitting him just right, every long stroke dragging the pierced head of Eren’s cock over his sweet spot, Jean’s having trouble keeping himself together. He loses track of the sounds he’s making, focused entirely on the easy rhythm of Eren thrusting into him, on the way Eren feels over him, restlessly carding his fingers through soft, dark hair.
“You sound so—so good, baby,” Eren rasps between kisses, his breath panting out hot between them. “Love the way you sound moaning my name, s-so much better than I ever imagined.”
Jean whines at that, arching up against him and leaning his head back. He can’t find the brains to respond, though, because Eren’s kissing his throat again, and because he’s thrusting harder, his rhythm starting to come apart as his breathless moans come faster.
All Jean can manage is a shaky, brainless, “Please,” but that’s apparently all Eren needs.
Eren groans against him, then starts moving faster, all his patience finally falling away. He bucks into him, watching Jean’s face as he does, squeezing their twined fingers tight as he drives them both higher, and it’s all Jean can do to not scream for him.
He knows he’s being too damn loud anyway, but he can’t help it when Eren’s this incredible, his cock still angled just right even as his pace grows desperate. Every thrust has Jean reeling, tensing and twitching under him, using what strength his legs have left to pull Eren closer, deeper. If anything, Jean’s neediness just seems to fuel Eren; he fucks him better, whispering sweet praise against his cheek, and when he feels Jean bucking up against him, rubbing his soaked arousal against his flat stomach, he makes the cutest sound.
Eren goes to untangle their fingers, though, which Jean is currently using to keep himself together. He catches Eren’s hand and twines their fingers together again, earning himself a breathless, questioning sound, but he’s pretty sure that question will be answered soon enough.
Jean squirms under Eren, rocking into his long strokes, and if he had the brains for it, he’d kiss him again. Instead, he lets his head fall back as he arches harder, closing his eyes and focusing on how perfectly Eren moves against him, thinking about nothing but the heat of his body against him, of the fit of Eren’s hips between his thighs, of the incredible angle he’s managed to keep so well even as they’re both falling apart, and that’s more than enough.
He didn’t think it was possible for Eren’s cock to feel better than it has, but as he tightens around him, pulling him close and tensing under him, around him, it feels so fucking good that he can’t help the way he cries Eren’s name for him, shaky and noisy.
He comes hard, his ears ringing and his body flushed hot, bucking his hips up desperately. Eren finally catches on as Jean spills between them, and the ragged, overwhelmed sound he makes just drives Jean crazier.
Eren keeps going, helpfully fucking Jean through his brain-melting orgasm, his own sounds mixing beautifully with Jean’s in the humid air around them. After a few hard thrusts, Eren whimpers, then starts moving in deep, needy grinds, desperate to keep their rhythm even as he falls right alongside Jean.
The noises Eren makes when he’s coming are fucking fantastic, Jean notes brainlessly, and he can already tell these are sounds he’s going to find himself craving for a long time.
They collapse together, panting hard and clinging to each other, and Jean wraps his free arm around Eren’s shoulders, holding him tight as he clumsily brushes his lips against Eren’s temple. He’s so damn pleased he doesn’t even mind Eren’s weight on him. Hell, if anything, it’s ideal, because Eren’s so warm, and fits against him so damn well it’s almost like he’s meant to be there.
Jean sighs shakily, slowly catching his breath, and before long, Eren starts showing signs of life again.
He pulls out gently, then leans up on his elbows and catches Jean’s lips in a slow, deep kiss, the brush of their lips so tender Jean can’t help but hum into it, his eyes fluttering closed.
Eren kisses him again, then a few more times, pressing one hand to Jean’s cheek and soothing his thumb over his cheekbone, until finally he pulls back enough that they can look at each other again. Jean blinks up at him, licking his lips idly, and the crooked grin Eren gives him has a heady surge of warm affection flooding all through him.
“Wasn’t expecting you to be able to do that,” Eren finally says, nudging their noses together teasingly.
Jean leans up and steals another brief kiss, then grins right back at him and shrugs. “I’m full of surprises.”
“Tell me about it.” Eren brushes Jean’s bangs back, taking his sweet time just looking at him, which is fine because Jean’s doing the same thing. He’s never seen Eren this relaxed, this pleased, and it sets a large part of him at ease knowing that he had something to do with it.
Humming warmly, Eren kisses him again, then murmurs, “You’re fucking perfect.”
Jean flushes at that, but he can’t deny how pleased it makes him to hear it. With a sheepish smile, he nudges his nose against Eren’s cheek, squeezing their twined fingers gently. The thing he wants to say in response seems so fast, but in retrospect, it’s been true for both of them for years, and it’s slipped out a few times anyway, so he may as well.
His voice is soft, and maybe trembling a little when he whispers, “I love you.”
Eren blinks widely at him, but before Jean can panic, a huge, happy grin spreads over Eren’s face even as his pretty eyes fill with tears. He ducks and catches Jean’s lips again, then a few more times, and between kisses he manages a few muffled “I love you”s in return, which does more than enough to assuage Jean’s fears.
Once they’ve cleaned up somewhat, they spend a little while longer like this, wrapped in each other’s arms. The evening sun dwindles around them, taking their precious spare time with it, but all that hardly seems to matter when they have so much lost time they’re eager to make up for.