Chapter Text
The first time Jean kissed Floch, it tasted of alcohol and tears.
They’d lost a couple of trainees after an exercise gone wrong beyond the walls. When they made it back to safety, Jean was the first to ditch his gear and take a handful of coins to the nearest seedy bar that would take his money and look the other way about his age while he searched for answers at the bottom of a bottle. When Floch Forster pushed him up against the alley wall outside at the end of the night, Jean thought of golden eyes and the handsome smile that stole his first kiss. He cried and let Floch think it’s just the grief talking.
Maybe that’s how Jean found himself in his current predicament.
He’s facedown in bed, a heavy hand settled on the back of his neck, and one squeezing at his hip. Floch’s set a brutal, punishing pace that sparks a relentless ache in Jean’s ribs but he digs his teeth into his lower lip to quiet any groans of protest. Floch’s got a hand wedged between Jean and the bed, furiously stroking over his cock, and Jean’s orgasm catches him somewhere between pain and a sliver of bliss. He feels Floch empty into him a moment later, harshly panting against the back of Jean’s neck, and he slips free without a care for Jean’s comfort. When Floch’s fingers skate over his bruised ribs, Jean can’t clamp down on his flinch in time and those same fingers dig in until he whimpers.
“You disgust me.” Floch kisses his hair and Jean squeezes his eyes shut, drawing in a shallow breath. “Clean yourself up, Jean. It’s almost time for dinner and an early celebration.” His hand strokes along Jean’s spine. “We’re going to reclaim Wall Maria and kill that traitorous boyfriend of yours when he tries to stop us.”
Jean bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood to keep himself quiet. He should feel anger, not guilt, when he thinks about Reiner. After all, he’s the whole fucking reason that Jean’s in this situation to begin with. Had Floch not somehow seen them together in their days at the academy, Jean would have never become his pretty little plaything. Nausea swells up at the thought and he takes another shallow breath. Because his friends would never have really given a damn about him being with a man, but they sure as shit will care that Jean’s heart had once belonged to Reiner Braun. And, he thinks bitterly, a part of it still does.
Those golden eyes have been his downfall since the day he first saw them. Back then, he hadn’t wanted to lean too heavily toward men for fear of upsetting the other boys in the academy. And Mikasa truly was stunning and he sometimes thought she would be the only woman he could settle down with in the future. But those golden eyes had been his weakness and Reiner had played him like a fucking instrument. He still doesn’t understand the man’s betrayal, but he doesn’t believe he’s ever going to know the truth. There’s a small part of him that’s hoping he will meet his own downfall in the coming days.
Gone is the Jean Kirstein that everyone once knew. He’s only occupying the shell of that man.
-
Everyone’s lively during dinner. Jean uses it as a cover to keep his distance from Floch, painting a jagged smile on his face for every conversation he has. If anyone notices that he’s eating less enthusiastically than he might on a normal day, they say nothing. Secretly, he’s as relieved by that as he is frustrated. He doesn’t want anyone to know about the monster he’s shackled himself to. But dammit, he wishes his friends could see how much pain he’s in day in and day out. It’s the reason there are two pouches of coderoin tucked at the bottom of his saddlebags for tomorrow.
“I think we’ll be able to take him down with ease,” Floch says from the table behind Jean. He knows the question’s coming before he hears the call of his name. “What do you think, Jean? You’ve seen the Armored up close and personal.” Jean turns his head to find a dangerous smirk on Floch’s lips. “Is he really as big as everyone swears he is?”
“Bigger.” Eren cuts in from his end of Jean’s table. “And stronger, too. Don’t get cocky, Floch.”
“I was trained in the 104th, the same as the rest of you.” Floch scoffs.
“And there’s a reason you didn’t make the top 10,” Eren replies smoothly. Jean clenches his jaw at that. Eren has no idea, of course, just how bad things are going to be for Jean now.
“Half of you were Titans-“ Floch protests.
“And even then, you still ranked well below the rest.” Eren tells him bluntly. “You’re an idiot if you think we have better odds now that you’re here.”
“To hell with you.” Floch snaps. And for a moment, Jean swears he sees a faint smile pull at Eren’s lips. Like he knows something that the rest of them don’t.
“Lay off of him, Eren.” Jean finally steps in and his heartbeat kicks up when Floch’s gaze snaps to him. It feels like a wildfire. “He’ll see soon enough. Everyone’s as ready as they can be.”
“I’m more than prepared to take on Reiner.” Floch growls. “He’s just another monster that I’ll get to kill.”
“Whatever.” Eren rolls his eyes, turning away from the conversation, and Jean’s stomach clenches. It’s all too easy to pick a fight now with Eren and when they’re both on their feet, trading blows, Jean sees stars when Eren’s fist connects with his stomach. His next breath comes out as a wheeze and he can’t help but try to taunt the other boy and goad him into more. He doesn’t think Eren will put him out of his misery, but goddamn it’s worth a try.
It’s not until Levi Intervenes, slamming a fist into Jean’s stomach to take him down, that darkness briefly takes over his vision. He comes to when he’s on the ground and hunches over, spilling the contents of his stomach. His vision blurs for a moment and he braces his forearm on the ground, shakily lifting himself back up. There’s something dark red in his pile of sick and something tells him that it’s blood. He’s quick to agree to clean it up, despite how awful he feels all over, and stumbles from the mess hall to go and get cleaning supplies as quickly as he can.
By the time he’s made it back, most of the room has emptied. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin are slipping out when Armin catches his gaze and furrows his brow. Jean quickly averts his eyes and goes to clean up, concentrating on the task at hand. He’s not surprised when the second the room is empty, someone slips behind him from the shadows. “Poor Jean-boy,” Floch croons in his ear. “Always have to make things more difficult for yourself.” His fingers trail down Jean’s arm and then his hand drops, palm firmly pressing down over Jean’s ribs.
“Floch-“ He chokes, vision blurring for a moment, and Floch digs in for a moment longer before he releases him.
“Next time, you’d better defend me.” Fingers stroke over his hair and Jean flinches away from them. “I’m going to be the one to kill Reiner, Jean. And when I do, you’ll belong to me.”
“Good luck.” Jean tells him earnestly, a flash of fire filling his belly. “You heard Eren. Reiner’s tougher than you think.”
“Maybe.” Floch agrees, gripping Jean’s jaw and wrenching his head around. “And you’re as weak as you’ve always been. No one’s going to want you once they learn the truth, Jean. Don’t forget that.”
“How could I? You never let me.” Jean mutters. Floch’s grip on his jaw tightens until Jean’s teeth ache and then Floch shoves him back harshly, scowling.
“Watch your tone with me, Jean-boy.” He spits in Jean’s face before turning to storm from the room. Trembling, from exhaustion and fear, Jean wipes his face on his sleeve and closes his eyes. He knows that he’s well and truly fucked.
-
Riding horseback for the next evening is hell on his ribs. Jean keeps his hood up, grateful that he’s learned how to take pain in silence, and spends his time reflecting when he’s not quietly chatting with Conny and Sasha. They’re both eager to get into this fight, excited for the chance to get a win for humanity, and Jean tries to pretend there isn’t only heartbreak waiting for him at Wall Maria. How could there be anything else? A small part of him hopes that Floch will die on the battlefield, but the other boy’s a fucking cockroach. He probably won’t kill Reiner, but it’s also likely that he will survive whatever they face ahead of them.
Jean’s gaze briefly drops to his saddlebags. At the end of the day, it’s going to be up to him to make sure that he doesn’t return. When they kill Reiner, Jean will take all the coderoin he has and pray it’s a swift end. They’re going to mock his memory and call him a coward, but maybe they would be a little kinder if they understood. It’s why there’s a single letter in his bag, something for Sasha or Conny to find, because he believes deep down that they’ll both find a way to survive. If they don’t…well, it will be just another couple of reasons to meet his own end.
He should have walked away after the first hit. It had taken him by surprise, but it had been the end of a grueling day and Floch had apologized until he was blue in the face. He’d slipped right past Jean’s defenses and settled like a snake in wait. The second Jean had hinted at putting an end to their casual fling, Floch had snapped. Jean can still taste that blood behind his teeth. The blackmail had come up after the second hit, or maybe the third. The fourth? He can’t remember, but by then it was too late. Floch had vowed the world would know Jean would rather fuck a monster if he didn’t follow Floch’s every whim. And Jean, craving punishment to drown out his guilt, had accepted the consequences of his actions.
He’s still not sure when Floch had seen him with Reiner when they were in the academy. They’d always been so careful in sneaking off after dark and returning just before the break of day. Jean still remembers the thrill of Reiner, of wanting to be with him, and how caught up he’d been in feeling like he was in love. That image had all but shattered when the truth had come out. He’d cried with the rest of them, shaken up for reasons he could never tell, and was determined to keep Reiner his dirty little secret. And then Floch had promised to tell everyone how Jean wept for the cock of the man hellbent on destroying humanity. Nothing terrified him more than the thought of his friends abandoning him. He could handle Floch’s heavy hand and cruel words, but he couldn’t lose his friends.
So he kept quiet, eyes focused on the road ahead.
-
On the battlefield, it’s almost a relief to go up against Reiner and Bertholdt. They split into teams, each tasked with taking down their opponent, and Jean leads the charge. He knows that Reiner won’t stop, maybe can’t stop, and will risk whatever it takes to get whatever the hell he’s after. Eren, he supposes, though the reasons are still unknown. Reiner’s always been a persistent bastard. Once, it was a trait Jean had admired. Now it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
He lines himself up to be the distraction, screaming Reiner’s name in anger and sorrow. The Armored Titan does as predicted, swiping for the bait. But his fingers are slow, clumsy, and Jean could outmaneuver him in an instant if his heart was in it. I’m sorry, he thinks as he adjusts his hold on the triggers for his ODM gear. His sacrifice will hopefully ensure the victory for humanity. Mikasa will be able to fulfill her role, destroying Reiner from the inside out, and Jean can rest in peace at last if they’re both dead.
Except Reiner’s attack slows down. His fingertips are dragging through the buildings, but he’s not using half of his strength. Is it because he’s still healing from their last attack? But no, he’d been able to run at full speed to try and get past them before. So why is he wasting time now? Is it because of Jean? Golden eyes narrow in his direction, catching his stare, and they seem to calculate his lack of movement. Reiner’s gaze hardens and Jean wonders if he’ll finally see the cracks that everyone else seems to be missing. When Reiner swats at him, Jean leans into it and doesn’t pull his ODM gear triggers. He closes his eyes and welcomes the darkness when he hits the ground.
-
“Jean?” Mikasa’s voice breaks through the fog and a helpless shudder runs through him. So he’s not dead yet. Great. Groaning, he cracks open his eyes and sits up with her help. They’re not alone. As Mikasa lifts his arm and begins to bind it with bandages, Jean’s gaze falls on the gruesome sight set up against the wall across from him. Reiner. He’s missing his limbs and his hair, but Jean knows without question that it’s him. Steam is curling from his skin, his body trying to repair itself, and Jean’s heart pangs in sympathy.
How is this the same boy who fed him wild strawberries when he complained about boot camp rations? He doesn’t know how to piece the two images of Reiner together. Maybe that’s why he ends up pleading with Hange to spare him. “Hange, wait! We need him alive. So we can steal his power.” Jean himself will eat Reiner so no one else learns of the history they share.
“I suppose it wouldn’t be a bad idea to study another one up close.” Hange drops their blade from Reiner’s throat. “How badly are you injured?”
“I’ll live.” Jean murmurs. “Hange-“
“Don’t thank me, Jean. If he spills any more blood today, it’s on your hands. I expect you to keep a close eye on our new prisoner.”
“Yes, Hange.” He swallows hard and looks at Reiner, bound and bloodied. How the hell did it all come to this?