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Armin could confidently say that his life had never gone according to plan.
That had been true since he was a kid, but he’d naively assumed that university would be different. He’d imagined a neat bubble of study sessions, coffee breaks, and maybe even a few awkward parties, but overall he had imagined his life being peaceful and productive while he got his education. And while some of that had been true, so had other less than charming things.
Like being hit in the face with a frisbee while reading under a tree. Getting stuck in an elevator during finals week. Having his computer hacked by crypto miners. Eren starting a fire in the kitchen. Having a cockroach infestation in his apartment. Eating an edible brownie from Connie that convinced him he was living inside a television show for six straight hours.
He’d also been the victim of petty theft. Twice.
So even as he stood in his apartment on a sunny Saturday morning, making the coffee that would carry him through the first few hours of his day, Armin couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever catch a break. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and pulled it out to see a text from his best friend and roommate.
Eren: “Horseface is stopping by to pick up his textbooks.”
Eren: “Let him in, or don’t, I don’t really care.”
Armin sighed, replying that he would make sure to let him in before dropping his phone back in his pocket. He was silently grateful that Eren wasn’t there, or he’d likely have a headache before noon.
About twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door and Armin opened it to see Jean standing there. He was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, like he’d just left the gym - or maybe just taking advantage of the last few days of heat before it started getting colder.
“Armin. I’m here to get some textbooks from Eren.”
He stepped aside to let him in, “Come in. They’re probably on his desk.”
Jean had been one of their closest friends since the beginning of university. They’d met in residence, and Armin could vividly recall the moment it had happened - mostly because Eren had somehow immediately managed to get into an argument with him. Regardless of the poor introduction, he’d been a fixture in their lives ever since.
“How’s school treating you?” Jean asked as he left his shoes by the door.
“It’s been good. My thesis has me a bit stressed out.”
“You’re the smartest guy I know, I think you’ll be okay,” Jean assured as he went into Eren’s room.
Armin went to his room to finish cleaning up a bit, he wasn’t aware he would have guests. And even though he was usually neat, it never hurt to clean a little. He could hear Jean drop the books on the living room table before walking over to him, “Eren’s room is so gross. I can’t believe you’ve managed to live with him for so long.”
“I’ve been dealing with him for over ten years, I fear I’m used to it.”
It was no secret to anyone that Eren and Jean tended to butt heads. From the minute they’d met, they’d pushed each other’s buttons in all of the worst ways. Armin would never say it out loud, but he thought it was one of the best things that ever happened to Eren - because Jean questioned him and pushed him, and that’s good for anyone. He also knew that underneath their banter and annoyance, they cared for each other, even though they’d both rather die than admit it.
Jean pinched his cheek, “You’re a saint for that.”
He stepped into Armin’s room, looking at the boxes on the floor, “So what’s with the sudden cleaning?”
He sat on his bed, looking at the three boxes he had laid out on the floor. He’d been pushing off dealing with them for months, but he eventually realized how suffocating they had become in the apartment and decided it was time to deal with them.
“They’re…the last of my grandfather’s stuff,” he chuckled softly, trying to lessen the severity of the statement. “Figured it was time to deal with them.”
A flicker went through Jean’s face, one he’d seen before. Because for all the ways Jean liked to act tough, he was soft at heart. You could always see it in his eyes.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Jean asked, his voice quieter now.
Armin waved his offer away with his hand, “That’s okay. I just marked off what I’m gonna take to charity.”
“That’s really nice,” Armin couldn’t help but notice the utter sincerity in his voice. “How have you been? I know it’s kind of a stupid question.”
When Armin’s grandfather had passed at the beginning of the year, it had felt like his entire world had ended. The loneliness and emptiness of losing the person who had raised him was unbearable. He had known it was coming, he’d been sick for a long time, but it didn’t make it any easier to sit on a cold hospital floor and feel like he was finally completely and utterly alone.
Like with any grief, time had softened its edges and the months had lessened the persistent ache in his chest, even though it sometimes still felt like his heart could give out.
“I’ve been okay,” he smiled softly. “After the funeral and everything, I’ve been putting off dealing with his stuff.”
Jean stepped closer to him, “Are you sure you want to do that today? You can always wait a few more days.”
It struck Armin for a moment, how comforting his presence was despite his tall stature. There was something about him that Armin hadn’t completely noticed before. He looked up at Jean, “I’m ready. I think…someone else needs these things more than me.”
Jean looked around his room for a moment, his eyes settling on the boxes again, “You know, I can take these down to the shelter for you.”
Armin was taken aback by his sudden offer and immediately was going to take the chance to refuse before Jean interrupted him, “I already have to take Yaeger’s shit with me, it’s not an issue. You can also come with me if you want, we’ll make it a field trip.”
Armin found himself smiling again, at Jean’s thoughtfulness, at his immediate willingness to try to make things easier for him.
“I mean, if it’s not a bother…”
“It’s never a bother, Armin. I’ll take care of it.”
And maybe that was the moment. The moment that Armin realized that Jean - stubborn, hard-headed Jean - was always so kind to him. Steady and present, and he never even had to ask. Because as he heard him promise he’d take care of it, he trusted him wholeheartedly to follow through.
“Okay,” he found himself feeling shy. “Thank you.”
Jean turned to the boxes, pointing at the two marked ones, “Are these the ones I’m taking?”
“Yeah, just those two.”
Jean leaned down, picking up both boxes in his arms with ease. He’d always been strong, his years as a tennis player evident, but there was something about the effortlessness that made Armin’s heart jump a bit in his chest.
His arms were… well. Impressive. Defined biceps, forearms corded with muscle, the sleeves of his t-shirt clinging just enough to show how solid he was.
Like he could pick Armin up with no ease. Which felt wildly inappropriate to be thinking about.
With the boxes in his arms, he gave Armin a boyish smile, “I’ll let you know when I drop them off. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
Armin nodded, hoping his face wasn’t giving anything away, “Um, yeah. Thanks!”
Jean gave him a grin and headed for the door, boxes in hand.
And the apartment suddenly felt very quiet. Armin stared at the space he’d just been standing in, cheeks warm. And he told himself that Jean was just being nice and dependable, nothing strange about that. And absurdly-
No. And what was supposed to be a calm, peaceful Saturday morning, turned out to be one that threw a wrench in Armin’s life, just one of the many things that didn’t go according to how he had planned.
Jean was an attractive guy, that much was universally agreed upon. He’d seen endless amounts of girls and guys hit on him during the time he’d known him, and their friend group had always joked that he could’ve been a player if he wasn’t such a secret romantic. He’d fumble his way through flirting, get red in the face if someone complimented him too much, and sometimes, was even completely oblivious to people’s very forward advances. It’s part of what made him so charming.
So realizing that Jean was attractive shouldn’t have been a surprise to Armin, because he’d always known. But he’d never noticed, up until that moment.
Suddenly, it was everywhere. He couldn’t help but notice how soft his hair was, the sharpness of his jaw, how big and broad he was. He also put effort into his appearance, he always dressed nice, and he wore an earthy cologne that was enticingly masculine. He was becoming a distraction in Armin’s life, and he had to fight to not look at him every time they ended up in the same room together.
It also didn’t help that Jean was caring, in his quiet, stubborn way. He always had been, but Armin found himself seeing it more, how easy it was for him to look out for everyone even when he pretended not to care. He saw it in the way he pulled Sasha back when she got too close to doing something reckless, in the headlocks he gave Connie, and the steady way he looked out for Mikasa and even Eren. There was also Marco, who always brought out the best in Jean.
There was a quiet loyalty to him, one that made people feel safe, and Armin couldn’t believe he’d never realized it. It was always those small things, the ones Jean probably didn’t even notice, that were making Armin’s stomach do something weird he didn’t appreciate.
Tonight was no different. They were hanging out at Connie, Marco and Jean’s apartment before heading out downtown. Music was blasting from a speaker, and cheap liquor was being passed around between them. Connie was shouting something about shot glasses as Historia finished doing her makeup in their bathroom. It was all slightly chaotic, but also perfect and Armin couldn’t help but think how much he’d miss this one day.
Armin was sitting with Marco as he sipped a soda, he never was the type to get too drunk unlike the rest of his friends. They were witnessing a game of beer pong as they gave each other life updates on school, work, personal life and more. Jean was one of the people roped into the game, throwing balls and missing terribly as his cheeks had gotten rosy from the alcohol.
He felt a nudge on his arm, “You’re staring.”
He jumped as he turned to face Marco, “What?”
A grin was gracing his freckled cheeks, “You’ve been staring at Jean for like five minutes.”
“Am not,” he immediately tried to defend, feeling caught in the act, even though he knew he hadn’t done anything.
Marco took a sip of his beer, a knowing glint in his eyes, “Come on Armin. We all know he’s cute, there’s no shame in staring a bit.”
Armin chuckled nervously even though he didn’t mean to, “I am not staring.”
“It’s been a while since Jean’s seen anyone,” Marco commented, probably aware of what it was doing to Armin’s chest. “He may be a disaster, but I think he’d be open to seeing someone.”
Armin nodded, a strained smile on his face, “I-I’m sure he would be.”
He was mercifully saved by Ymir, who took up the space on the couch next to him, clearly drunk, “Armin, my guy, how you doing?”
“Ymir,” he enthusiastically turned to her to avoid the conversation he was just having, “I’m good, how are you?”
She held up a can of alcohol, “I’d be better if this shit wasn’t so ass. How much do you want to bet Reiner bought this?”
“What is it?” Marco asked, looking over the can.
“Beats me,” she said. “Either of you want it?”
Marco held up his beer as an answer, “Gotta finish this one first.”
Armin looked at the drink in Ymir’s hand, and then to the table where Jean had spilled a beer over his shirt. The wet patch stuck to the muscle underneath. Armin quickly took the drink out of her hand, his choice made, “I can take it.”
“Armin willingly taking a drink from me?” she grinned. “Woohoo! Tonight is going to be fun.”
Armin took a sip, already feeling the burn down his throat. It truly was gross, having an odd guava taste. But if one thing would keep the strange thoughts about Jean Kirstein out of his brain, it was alcohol and he was determined to make it work.
What was one drink turned into two. And then two became three. And maybe Armin had lost count and forgot how much he’d had, because the next thing he knew, he was at a nightclub on a dancefloor surrounded by very sweaty and drunk people. It was dark as neon lights flashed, but he could feel the music’s beat in every one of his muscles, and he felt so incredibly relaxed he couldn’t even bring himself to care about how hot it was in the crowd.
Connie, expectedly, had joined him on the dance floor and kept twirling him around, making him laugh every time.
“Armin’s got moves!” he yelled over the music.
Armin shook his head, his speech slurred, “Not.”
“Let’s get another drink!”
That sounded like a great idea to Armin, and he let himself get dragged to the line at the bar. Mikasa immediately approached them, tapping Armin twice on the shoulder, “Armin. You good?”
He could feel a smile on his face, “I’m great.”
There was amusement in her features, but also that protective concern that characterized her, “Your cheeks are red.”
“Not.”
“I think you shouldn’t have another drink,” she reprimanded softly, earning herself a complaint from Connie who grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Come on Mikasa! A whisky sour a day keeps the doctor away.”
“Said no one ever.”
As they discussed the merits of drinking on health, Armin slowly slipped away to the front of the bar, flagging the bartender and asking for a shot. He didn’t know if he could do a full drink, and his drunk brain had decided a shot was somehow more manageable.
He closed his eyes as he waited for the bartender to finish making his drink, only opening them when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he found Jean next to him.
“Holy shit, you’re drunk.”
“What makes you say that?”
He pinched his cheek, like he always did, “You’ve got his rosy look on your face. That’s how I know you’re plastered.”
The bartender came back with his drink and he pulled out his card to pay, until Jean’s hand gently put his wrist down, “I’ll get it for you.”
Before he could protest, Jean paid for his drink and gently pulled Armin away from the crowded bar by the arm.
“Y-you didn’t have to do that,” Armin gently complained as he looked down at his drink. He thought he had ordered a shot but it didn’t look like one. And taking a sip, he couldn’t even remember what it was he had ordered, noticing the sweetness of it.
“It’s no issue. You sure you’re good?” Jean asked over the music.
Armin nodded as he took another sip, but nearly stumbled as someone bumped into him from behind. He felt Jean’s hand shoot out instantly, bringing him closer to him, “Yep, definitely drunk.”
Armin blinked up at him, suddenly aware of their proximity. Despite the heat of the crowded club, Jean’s body felt like it was burning. His hand was still on his shoulder, fingers curling slightly into his shirt.
“Thanks,” he hated how breathy his voice sounded.
Jean gave him a crooked grin, “You’re good.”
And oh if how reliable he was didn’t make Armin’s stomach flip. Strong, steady Jean, ready to answer any emergency. So tall and handsome. It made Armin want to lean into him, feel more of that warmth and that care. Maybe even take his pants off and let him -
No, no. He had to stop that train of thought before his drunk brain made him do something stupid.
Thankfully, or unthankfully, Connie approached them, “Did we come to the club to stand here or what? Let’s dance!”
And to Armin’s drunken brain, that sounded like a great idea. Before he knew it, he was holding onto Jean’s wrist, dragging with him onto the floor as he followed Connie. He didn’t know how he looked or danced, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. All he could feel was the music thumping beneath his feet, not in control of his own body in the most pleasant way possible.
If he was more aware, he would’ve noticed Jean staring at him. Or the way he held onto his waist when he swayed too far in one direction. But in his synthetic high, surrounded by sweaty bodies, he’d never felt more relaxed and free.
It was nearly three in the morning when he found himself sitting on a bench outside, a cigarette in his hands. He didn’t fully know how he ended up there, he also hated smoking, but the cool breeze was delightful. Reiner was sitting next to him, staring up at the sky.
“Man, the universe is so big, isn’t it?”
“I guess so,” Armin very eloquently replied. Usually he’d be able to engage in a more profound conversation, but he was lacking the mental capacities to do so.
Reiner sighed, “You know Armin, you’re a cool guy. I thought you were a bit of a loser when we met, but you’ve proved me wrong.”
“Thanks?”
His hesitation made Reiner laugh, and he found himself joining him. He knew he was far too drunk, not helped by the fact he wasn’t used to drinking often. But the city lights looked beautiful and he could still hear the music pulsing inside. The people outside were also too far gone, and he was pretty sure he could hear an argument nearby, but it was perfect.
He didn’t even realize he’d closed his eyes until he felt someone standing in front of him.
“Time to go home.”
He opened his eyes with a lazy smile, “Don’t want to.”
Jean huffed, unimpressed, “Mikasa is too busy wrangling Eren out of a fight, and I promised her I’d look for you. Come on, time to head out.”
Jean reached out to hit Reiner on the head, “Come on, wake up. Bertholdt is looking for you.”
Reiner jerked awake, shaking his head, “Man, I need another drink.”
Armin almost found himself agreeing to go with him before Jean stopped him, “Not you. Come on.”
Jean put his hands under his armpits to lift him up, and he did it so effortlessly. Steadying Armin on his feet, he patted his pants pockets, “Keys?”
Armin almost made a deeply inappropriate noise at the feeling of Jean patting his ass, his hands feeling huge through the outline of his jeans. But even in his state, he somehow refrained from doing so. “T-they’re in my front pocket.”
Jean moved his hands, pulling them out of his jeans with ease before putting them in his own pants. He turned him around, placing his hands on his shoulders, “The walk will sober you up.”
As they walked through the streets, Armin let his eyes close again. He could hear the traffic around them and his feet against the pavement. Having Jean behind him made him feel at ease, maybe a bit too much, and he trusted him implicitly to get him back home safe. And if he found himself leaning into Jean’s broad chest, he reserved the right to blame it all on the alcohol.
Once they reached the apartment, Jean unlocked the door and helped Armin take his shoes off. Next thing he knew, he was being tossed onto his bed, which felt more warm and comfortable than ever.
“Wait here. I’ll get you some water.”
Armin leaned into his pillow, smiling to himself at the idea of Jean taking care of him. Once he returned, he sat up and took a sip of the water, which was much needed even though he wouldn’t admit it.
“You need to change. And brush your teeth.”
Armin groaned, making Jean chuckle, “Don’t argue with me. Stand up.”
“No.”
“You’re gonna be a brat with me?” Jean crossed his arms.
That… made heat curl in Armin’s gut. He was intent on ignoring it before he suggested something stupid. He was surprised and disappointed at how quickly he stood up, picked a pair of pajamas and ran to the bathroom. He could hear Jean laugh, making him take a breath as he held onto the sink.
He’s just being friendly.
I just like how nice he is to me.
Nothing more.
Right?
He splashed water on his face, making quick work of brushing his teeth and changing into something more comfortable. He fully expected Jean to leave while he got ready, and was pleasantly surprised to find him sitting on his bed once he returned.
“All done.”
Armin nodded, already feeling the exhaustion seeping into his bones, “Yeah. Um, thanks for getting me back home.”
Jean stood up from his bed, “It’s no problem.”
He made his way to leave, walking to the door when he suddenly stopped. He turned his head, “Hey Armin?”
“Yeah?” his voice sounded hopeful. What was he hopeful for?
“Make sure to take a painkiller. You’re gonna hate yourself tomorrow.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at his bluntness, subconsciously holding onto his shirt as he avoided Jean’s gaze, “I-I will. Headed home?”
“Yep. Gotta make sure Connie and Marco got back alive. See you soon?”
“You know it.”
And as he laid in bed that night, he told himself he wouldn’t let his brain be filled with thoughts of a tall, handsome man with brown hair and entrancing eyes. That would be entertaining something that he was again, trying to avoid and put out of his mind. And yet, he dreamed all night long of broad hands and gentle words. And no one but him needed to know.
Armin had always found comfort in routine. In the face of the unpredictability of life, there was a semblance of structure in having something to do, doing it well and having the satisfaction of checking it off your list. It was especially important to him on the days where he felt out of control, upset, unsettled, and overall feeling like he didn’t even want to get out of bed. This was one of those days.
He’d woken up restless. He’d spent the previous night crying after finding a photo with his grandfather, the one they’d taken the day they finalized his adoption. His grandfather had been a tall, strong man, and Armin looked so small next to him. It didn’t compare at all to how he looked in his final days - frail and sick. He missed him so dearly.
Eren noticed something was wrong the minute he saw him. It didn’t help that Armin carried red eyes for hours after crying, letting everyone and anyone know what had happened.
And even though people thought of Eren as a loud, reckless and slightly brutish guy, he was the most caring when it came to his friends even when he didn’t know what to do. He made Armin a coffee that was far too bitter for his liking, sat with him and offered to make him breakfast.
“I am too scared of what you’d make me. But thank you.”
Eren sighed, “Is there anything else I can do?”
Armin put a hand on his knee, “I’m okay. I think I’m just gonna stay at home today.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Eren agreed. “I have class but we could watch a movie when I get back. Oh, I can even get Mikasa to bring us that nice popcorn that Sasha keeps at theirs!”
Armin couldn’t help but smile, “That sounds lovely Eren. Thank you.”
“What are you gonna do in the meantime?” he sounded concerned.
And Armin knew exactly what that was. Once Eren left for class, he took a nice hot shower, got dressed and decided to clean the entire apartment. It would distract him and give him a sense of purpose. He started with the kitchen and the living room, picking up after Eren’s mess. After leaving everything in pristine condition, he cleaned his room and even Eren’s, although he willfully turned a blind eye to some of the more questionable things in there.
After he was fully done, he found himself back in the living room as he folded the insane amount of laundry he had just washed. He had soft music playing in the background as he let himself become fully immersed in his task, which actually did provide comfort.
Unexpectedly, he heard a ring at the doorbell. It was too early for Eren to be back, and he wasn’t expecting anyone. Maybe Mikasa?
He paused the music and stood, unhooking the chain link before opening the door, and finding someone he did not expect to see.
“Jean?”
Jean turned at the sound of his name, “Armin.”
“Is everything okay? Do you need something?”
Jean stepped inside, taking his shoes off. He looked at the laundry on the floor, “Productive.”
Armin chuckled, “Yeah. Someone has to clean around here.”
Jean turned back to Armin, and there was the slightest touch of concern in his expression, “I ran into Eren on campus. He said you weren’t feeling well.”
Armin could’ve melted onto the floor at that statement. Because Jean had no obligation to come check up on him, to drop his plans once he heard he wasn’t feeling well. And dammit if it didn’t make Armin want to hug him and tell him that he was the best man on the planet, and that he cared for him so much and -
“Um, yeah. Long night.”
“You’ve been crying,” Jean suddenly said.
“What?” he found himself stupidly saying.
Jean walked up to him, placing his hand on Armin’s cheek, “Your eyes are puffy. Are you okay?”
Even though he usually hated how puffy his face was after crying, he was silently grateful for it because it meant that he was feeling the warmth of Jean’s calloused hand on his cheek. He had to blink a few times before he managed to formulate a response, “Y-yeah. I was just upset.”
Jean traced a pattern into his cheek, but Armin wasn’t sure if he was conscious of it, “Was… was it your grandfather?”
He felt his eyes water and he wanted to punch himself in the face for it, but he blinked the tears away, “Yeah.”
Jean paused for a moment before speaking, “Can I hug you?”
And unfortunately, Armin was a weak man. And at such an offer, he could only find himself nodding before he was pulled into Jean’s arms, his head resting against his chest. He could hear his heartbeat against his ear, his arms around his shoulders and back. As Jean rested a hand on the back of his head, he let himself take a deep breath. And he didn’t cry, but only because he didn’t feel like he wanted to.
“I’m sorry Armin. I know you miss him.”
Jean had hugged him before, he even had on the night of his grandfather’s passing. They were all encompassing every single time, one of the most comforting things he could think of. He held on like he was trying to hold you together, and at that moment, Armin couldn’t help but think that maybe he was.
He didn’t know how much time passed before he pulled away, and Jean smiled down at him, “Better?”
Armin couldn’t express just how much that helped without giving some other things away so he settled for a small smile, “Yeah. Thanks.”
Jean pulled away and looked down again at the pile of clothes on the floor before looking back up at Armin. He took the initiative to address it first, “Cleaning makes me feel better. I know I have to finish folding.”
“I can help you.”
“Jean,” Armin sighed but he was smiling. “You really don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind,” he said before his voice turned uncharacteristically shy. “My mom always says I’m good at folding laundry.”
God, he was such a mama’s boy and he would deny it forever. It made Armin grow even more fond of him, if that was even possible.
“Are you sure?”
Jean was already taking a seat on the floor to help, “Just don’t make me fold Eren’s underwear and we’re good.”
Armin laughed, his first real laugh all day, “Oh so you’ll fold mine?”
“I have no issue folding underwear, but I am not touching whatever Eren wears. Shit’s probably contaminated.”
“No it is not, I washed it!” Armin protested as he took a seat next to Jean.
“So you concede it’s contaminated.”
Folding shirts and socks should not have been fun, because doing laundry is never fun. And yet, seeing Jean laugh whenever he found something amusing - like Armin’s dinosaur socks, he thought there was no other place he’d rather be. How had he never seen him like this before? Every nudge of Jean’s knee against his, or the way he pulled his hair up made his heart skip. And suddenly, it hit him with the quiet force of a wave: Jean was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. And it was the most damning realization of his life.
It was a commonly known truth that Armin looked vastly different than he did when he was a teenager. His days of having awkward shoulder-length hair and bangs, paired with his signature square glasses, were far behind him - or so he’d like to think. Looking at himself in their bathroom mirror, he found it difficult to recognize himself sometimes. And even though he genuinely liked his current appearance, with his short undercut and the eye contacts he wore often, he sometimes still felt the twinge of insecurity from his youth.
“Stop moving,” Mikasa demanded as he sat on the bathroom toilet.
“Sorry.”
She had always insisted on doing his hair whenever they went out, and Armin always thought it was because deep down she missed braiding his longer hair. But she still took care to use pomade to style his hair and make it look nice. Sometimes, he even let her choose what he wore because he knew it made her happy. She was definitely the most fashionable out of the trio, and she made sure that they knew her disapproval with their fashion choices.
“All done,” she pulled back and moved to wash her hands.
Armin looked up at her face, her eyes decorated with eyeliner, “You look beautiful.”
“So do you,” she smiled. “Are you excited?”
Armin sighed, “Not really.”
The group had wanted to visit a new bar that opened across town. He’d told them that he didn’t have time, he had extensive coursework to catch up with but they had insisted to the point that he had been inevitably swayed. But it didn’t mean that he was excited about the prospect of catching up with everything the next morning.
“I think it’ll be fun,” Mikasa assured. “We can also leave early if we hate it.”
“Hey! You guys done?” Eren called from the living room. “I’m three beers in and ready to go!”
Mikasa rolled her eyes, “Brute.”
Armin laughed, “I know.”
“Come on, let’s move before he gets antsy.”
The bar was packed, loud and warm as expected. The dance floor glowed purple and blue, and there were tacky neon signs everywhere. Even the drinks were neon. But Armin understood how Connie and Sasha had picked this bar, it was right up their alley, and he had to admit that he liked it himself.
They found some of their friends in the line, and then the rest inside. One of the last people they ran into was Jean, who was carrying a drink in his hand. To his surprise, he turned his attention to Armin first, “Armin! I like your jacket.”
Armin looked down at the black leather jacket he was wearing over his shirt, “It’s Mikasa’s. She said I needed to elevate my choices.”
He chuckled, “Not surprised. It looks good on you.”
Jean was dressed in a black shirt, one that clung nicely to his chest. His brown jacket was worn-in and leather, it made him look effortlessly cool. His hair was pushed back. He looked perfect and amazing, and Armin didn’t want to tear his eyes off him.
“Are you liking the bar?”
Jean took a sip of his drink, “Booze is good. Wanna try?”
Armin found himself offering his hand to receive it. Jean’s fingers brushed against his, and he felt his breath stutter a bit in his chest. It didn’t help that he stared at him the whole time he took a sip, and Armin found himself wishing it was him against his lips instead.
“It’s good,” Armin handed it back, his cheeks warm.
“I know. They have a cool back patio too. Wanna see it?”
Usually in group settings, it took a while for Jean and Armin to find each other. They’d obviously say hi, but he tended to stick with Eren and Mikasa while he stayed with the rest. Jean usually didn’t go out of his way to hang out with Armin like this, but he’d be damned if he would say no and miss out on the opportunity.
“I’d love to.”
Next thing he knew, he touched the small of Armin’s back and leaned in, “This way.”
The touch was brief, but it lit a fire under Armin’s skin. It wasn’t the first time that Jean had touched him, but tonight felt different. Like he meant something by it. Like it wasn’t just friendly. They walked in silence for a moment, weaving through the crowd, Jean’s hand drifting lower before falling away all together. But Armin could still feel it, like an echo.
When they stepped out, the music had dulled and was replaced by chatter. The air was cooler than he expected, but maybe he just felt that because of how flushed he suddenly was. But the patio was beautiful, leading into a view of the city’s skyline.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I know. I was scared when Connie of all people said they wanted to come here, but I’m impressed. Don’t tell him I said that.”
“I won’t,” Armin smiled.
Jean suddenly reached his hand for Armin’s face, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. His cheeks felt hot as Jean ran his hand down his ear and neck before pulling away.
“It was out of place.”
He smiled, feeling out of breath, “You’re always looking out for me.”
Jean smiled, soft and real, “Of course I do.”
Armin’s chest ached with something warm and overwhelming, like the words had cracked something open inside him. He didn’t know what to say. Thank you felt too small, I need you too much. So he just stood there, watching Jean with wide, aching eyes, hoping the pounding in his chest wasn’t too obvious. The night buzzed around them, music drifting in the background, but all Armin could focus on was how close Jean was. How easy it would be to lean in.
God, he wanted to kiss him.
He was distracted from the thought when they heard a commotion from the dance floor, finding Connie entering some kind of dance battle with a stranger while Sasha encouraged him, and Marco looked hesitant and a bit embarrassed.
“Of course,” Jean sighed, with the annoyance of someone who knew this too well.
Armin looked to the dance floor and then back at Jean, offering his hand out, “Come on.”
He didn’t know what was giving him the urge to do so, but he knew it was the right choice as he saw Jean’s grin.
“I didn’t know you were a dancer, Armin,” he teased.
“I’m not. At least, not until you give me a few drinks.”
Jean laughed, throwing his head back and he looked beautiful under the moonlight. God, how had Armin never noticed before? He shook his head and took Armin’s hand, the weight heavy and comforting.
“Lead the way, boy wonder.”
Armin led him to the dance floor, where he could spot some of his friends in different places but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be close to Jean.
It would have been awkward, but the amount of people meant that they were forced closely together. Armin was by no means a good dancer, just swaying to the music, but he found encouragement when Jean’s hands settled on his waist. Jean had steady feet, and quickly got them adjusted to the rhythm. Armin could feel every place their bodies touched, every breath Jean took, and he swore the rest of the world blurred out around them.
Jean turned him around, pulling him flush against his chest. Armin could feel the heat radiating off his body, sweat prickling at the back of his neck. He kept his gaze fixed on his collarbone, too afraid of what he might do if he dared meet his eyes. His hands hovered for a moment before settling on Jean’s waist beneath his jacket, fingertips brushing the muscle that flexed subtly beneath the touch.
God, he was so hot.
Jean said something, soft and low, but Armin didn’t register it over the pounding in his ears. His thumbs troked along Jean’s sides, almost involuntarily, and he felt the hitch of breath that wasn’t his. He dared to look up.
Jean was already watching him.
His eyes were dark, and Armin felt his skin shiver under the heat of that gaze. Before Armin could say a word, before he could even think, a pair of hands cupped his cheeks before pressing his lips to his.
There was only hesitation for a second before Jean tangled a hand in the back of his hair, pulling him in tighter, and Armin gasped against his mouth. That was all it took - and he was kissing back with the desperation of months of looking at him and wanting him closer. He let himself get lost in it, feeling his slightly chapped lips against own, his leg sliding in between his.
He held onto the fabric of his shirt as if it could keep him grounded, moaning against his mouth when Jean bit his lip. He’d wondered how Jean kissed and imagined him soft and hesitant, and the confidence and dominance he’d found made warmth pool in his stomach. He was demanding, holding onto Armin’s face to keep him exactly as he wanted.
Jean pulled back for a breath and Armin ran his tongue over his lip, wanting to keep feeling him, to chase the taste of vodka in the back of his throat.
“Jean,” Armin breathed heavily before Jean kissed him again. People around them danced without a care under the lights, it made him feel like they were in their own world. “Jean, I-”
“I know,” Jean smiled. “Me too.”
Armin didn’t really know how Jean understood exactly what he wanted, but he wasn’t going to complain, “My place or yours?”
“Yours is closer,” he kissed him again. “Let’s get out of here.”
He barely remembered the walk there, feeling so excited and turned on at the anticipation of getting Jean all to himself that he couldn’t be sure if they actually ran to the apartment. He felt Jean’s hands against his waist the entire time, clearly antsy, and the thought that such a man could want him so badly was impossibly thrilling. The second the door shut behind them, Armin found himself crowded against the counter, Jean’s lips pressed to his own. They fumbled through taking their shoes off as they entered the apartment.
He pulled Armin’s jacket off his shoulders as he kissed down his neck, and he moaned at the feeling of his lips, wet with spit, running down the sensitive skin of his shoulder.
“You’re so vocal,” Jean said breathlessly against his neck.
“I can’t help it,” Armin chuckled, humming when Jean bit at his pulse.
He pulled Jean’s jacket off and dropped it on the floor with his own, wanting to see more. He was already straining against his pants, craving the feeling of Jean against him. He wanted to see all of him, to give him everything he wanted and more. The idea of pleasing Jean, of bringing him release, made him whimper involuntarily and Jean kissed him on the mouth.
“What do you want, baby?” Jean breathed against his lips. “Come on, tell me.”
Armin didn’t have the mental capacity to form any words, his body feeling hot under his clothes, so he hooked his fingers into Jean’s belt loops as he led him to his room. He knew exactly what he’d wanted from the moment he’d seen Jean tonight, and he was determined to give it to him.
They reached his room and Jean shut the door behind them. Still leading him by his pants, Armin sat on the edge of his bed and looked up at him through his eyelashes. He turned on his bedside lamp, wanting to see Jean perfectly at this moment. His look might’ve been innocent, but his intentions were anything but. He rested his hands on Jean’s belt, letting him know exactly what he was thinking.
Jean breathed heavily through his nose, “Fuck. You wanna suck me off baby? Is that right?”
He was so turned on it made him dizzy. He sighed as he started undoing his belt, “Yeah.”
Jean carded a hand through his hair, “God you’re hot.”
Armin smiled to himself as he took out his belt and threw it on his floor. His hands found the button of his jeans, unpopping it and pulling the zipper down. He could see the tent in Jean’s pants, and knowing he was the cause of it made him even more aroused if possible. He grabbed the hem of Jean’s boxers and pulled everything down at once.
The sight made him bite his lip. He knew Jean was a big guy, but knowing it extended everywhere had him clenching his thighs. His dick was as long as it was thick, the pink head leaking slightly.
He looked up at Jean again, taking his hands and leading them to his hair. He understood his message instantly, and Jean grinned, “You’re gonna let me do whatever I want?”
Armin nodded, he was so out of breath, “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
The concern could’ve touched Armin, but he didn’t care. He wanted him, and he wanted him now. “I’m sure. Please.”
“Tap my leg if you need to breathe, okay?”
Without another word, he slid himself past Armin’s parted lips. He immediately moaned around the feeling of Jean in his mouth, letting his tongue trace the head. Jean’s grip in his hair tightened as he slowly slid himself in, “Ah, that feels good.”
And was Armin determined to make him feel good. He let his hands wander under Jean’s shirt, feeling his stomach as he sucked, drawing him deeper into his throat. His skin was ablaze, his muscles jumping with every touch of Armin’s careful fingers. Jean moaned lowly, using his grip to slide himself to the back before pulling back out and in.
Armin could feel his throat and eyes start to burn but he didn’t care. He loved the feeling of Jean taking his breath away, pulling the strands of his hair to please himself. His dick was straining painfully against his pants and he let one of his hands move to touch himself against his jeans. It didn’t provide complete relief, but it helped and he moaned against the intrusion in his mouth at the feeling.
Jean groaned before it dissolved into a whimper, “Just like that. Fuck, you’re so good baby.”
Armin moved his own hand faster, pressing against his erection as he felt his stomach tighten. He found himself wanting more, wanting Jean to pull his hair harder, to come in his mouth, to get off while he sucked him off -
All those thoughts were interrupted when Jean suddenly pulled out of Armin’s mouth, panting heavily as his hands remained in his air, “God.”
Armin cleared his throat, his voice hoarse, “All good?”
“Yeah baby,” his hand caressed his hair gently. “But I wanna taste you too.”
Jean pushed him by the shoulders to lay down on the bed. He pulled his own pants all the way off, tossing them across the room before reaching for Armin’s. He made quick work of them, pulling his boxers and jeans off his legs before throwing them with his own clothes. Armin subconsciously tried to close his legs, feeling suddenly exposed as the cool air hit his legs and erection but Jean didn’t let him, holding him open at the knees.
His hands carefully caressed down his inner thighs, making him hold his breath, “So pretty. Do you know how pretty you are?”
He breathed out, and Jean kissed his knee, “Gonna make you feel good.”
Armin wanted to tell him that he already made him feel good, and that he didn’t think he’d been so horny in his entire life, but he didn’t get the chance to before Jean reached for his shirt, pulling it through his head. His pale skin was completely on display for Jean, and it was as exciting as it was intimidating. There was something about Jean still having his shirt on that made him feel dominated, and it made his dick twitch.
Jean ran a finger down his sternum, “You want me to touch you?”
“Yes,” he said too desperately. “Please touch me.”
“Hm,” Jean hummed, his eyes wandering over Armin’s body. “Where do you want me to touch you?”
Armin wasn’t usually bold with his words, but the need pulsing in his stomach was too overwhelming and he found that he’d do anything if it meant Jean would give him what he needed. He huffed, “I want you inside me.”
Jean closed his eyes and groaned at the statement, his grip tightening on Armin’s knee, “Fuck you’re hot.”
He kissed Armin again, shoving his tongue in his mouth without warning. When he pulled away, there was a string of spit between them, and Armin loved it. Jean wiped his mouth with his shirt, “You have lube?”
“Bottom drawer,” Armin gestured his head in the direction of the bedside table.
Jean quickly rummaged through it with his free hand before finding the bottle and tossing it on the bed. He pulled away from Armin as he squeezed an amount into his hand and capping the bottle. He reached in between his legs for his hole, rubbing a generous amount onto it, the cool liquid feeling delicious against his burning skin.
Armin shivered at the feeling, closing his eyes and holding onto the sheets beneath him to try to remain grounded. Jean slowly but surely began to slide a finger in, and he hissed through his teeth. It had been a good while since he’d done this, and he was feeling the burn.
Jean kissed his hip before taking him in his mouth, and the distraction proved effective as Armin jolted at the feeling of the warmth around him. Jean was methodical, sliding his finger in and out as he took his dick in his mouth. Armin could only hear the sounds of his gasps and moans, running like water in his ears, as the muscles in his legs tensed. He could feel his tongue in his slit before it ran down a vein, and he felt like his body was melting into the bed. He never wanted him to stop.
Jean added another finger, and he wanted more. His own hand found his nipple, turning the bud in between his fingers and the added sensation almost made him shake. His heart pounded against his ribcage, his head light and dizzy. It was heavenly.
He opened his eyes when he felt Jean stop sucking him off. He’d looked up at Armin touching his chest, and gently reached one of his hands to pull him away, “Move your hand. I’ve got it.”
He immediately took him in his mouth again as his own hand started toying with Armin’s nipples, and he threw his head back at the movement. The sensation of Jean pleasing him everywhere, of taking care of his pleasure all by himself was overwhelming in the best way possible. And he wanted more and more, he wanted Jean to run his tongue throughout his entire body if he so pleased.
By the third finger, he was seeing stars in his vision and could feel the telltale tightening of his gut that told him he was going to orgasm.
“J-Jean, I’m gonna come if you keep going.”
Jean pulled off for a moment, looking up at him, “You don’t want to?”
“I don’t want to come until you’re in me,” Armin breathed out, trying to come down so it wouldn’t finish too early.
Jean pulled back, tapping his hip, “Turn around for me.”
Armin sat up to slide his shirt off. Because he’d be damned if he couldn’t feel all of Jean. He couldn’t help but stare as he threw his shirt across the room. His arms and stomach were covered in muscles, his skin tanned. There was a beauty mark on his hip that he wanted to run his tongue over.
Jean tapped the side of his head, “Come on. Turn around for me.”
Brought out of his distraction, Armin immediately got onto his knees and hands, eager to feel Jean inside him. He could feel him position himself behind him, running a hand down Armin’s back as he adjusted himself.
“You ready?” he asked, out of breath, as he pressed a kiss between Armin’s shoulderblades.
“Jean please, I want you-”
Jean didn’t need any more encouragement as he slid into Armin, punching the breath out of him. The feeling of Jean stretching him out as he pushed himself in, feeling every ridge and curve of Jean’s cock inside of him made Armin moan into his pillow. He was so big, and when he bottomed out, Armin felt like he’d been stuffed full. He could feel him everywhere as he pulsed inside him, the head of his dick just brushing past that spot that made him see stars.
“J-Jean,” he moaned. “You’re so big.”
Jean groaned, his hands gripping his hips, “And you’re so tight.”
He rocked his hips experimentally, and Armin chuckled deliriously with pleasure. After a few moments, he pulled out and Armin moaned at the feeling of his cock dragging out of his walls before he slammed it back in. His pace was relentless, and all he could do was try to keep up as Jean ran his searing palms down his sides and stomach.
“That’s right. So pretty,” Jean groaned with another trust.
His words made his head heady, and he wanted to keep pleasing him, to hear him moan and groan as he took what he needed from him. The bed creaked underneath them with every movement, Jean’s grip finding his hips to give him leverage to slam into him over and over.
He gasped when he finally hit that sweet spot, the enlarged head of his cock pressing against his prostate.
“Jean, right there, don’t stop-”
And his hips started moving faster, chasing both of their releases. His stomach was tightening, his vision dazed, and he put his head against the pillow at a particularly loud moan that reverberated off the walls of the room.
Jean didn’t let him, pulling his hair gently to lift his face off the bed, “None of that sweetheart. Let me hear you.”
“Jean,” he cried out. “It’s so good. Y-you’re so-”
“Shh baby, I know,” he cooed. “I’ve got you.”
His care and concern while he wrecked his back only made him impossibly more aroused, and he reached down to touch his dick that was leaking onto the bed. But he should’ve known Jean wouldn’t let him, slapping his hand away before his own encircled the head of his cock.
Every time he thought he couldn’t go higher, he did. His body was covered in sweat, his legs shaking, his hands fisting into the bed as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. His head was only consumed with thoughts of Jean, his breathing loud in his ear, his hips stuttering as he tightened his grip on Armin’s hair.
“Baby, I’m gonna come. Jean, oh god, I’m gonna-”
“Come on, you can do it,” Jean whispered in his ear. It was wet, filthy and delicious. “Come for me, will you?”
And that was really all Armin needed, as the spring in his stomach coiled tightly and released. He threw his head back onto Jean’s shoulder, moaning through his release as Jean kept moving inside him. He felt it when Jean came, biting into the back of his neck as he filled him up, hot liquid spilling inside him.
They both collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent, Jean crushing Armin into the mattress. He wouldn’t have it any other way. All he could hear was the fan on the ceiling, Jean’s breathing, and his muscles completely relaxed. He was exhausted but content, feeling ready to pass out at any moment. Jean rolled off him to lay on his back next to him. He looked beautiful, chest heaving and hair disheveled, and Armin wanted to keep him in his bed forever.
Jean met his gaze, smiling as he turned over, “You good?”
“I’m… great.”
Jean laughed deep in his chest, and it was such a delicious sound. He ran a comforting hand down Armin’s back, “I didn’t go too hard on you, did I?”
“It was perfect. You can go harder next time,” Armin found himself saying in his post-orgasm haze.
Jean rolled his eyes with a smile, a blush on his face, “Who would’ve known you’re so freaky? Maybe I’m gonna have to keep you here, see just how far I can push you.”
Armin was about to admit he’d love to do that, and have Jean maybe do even more like manhandle him and choke him and so on. But he was determined to hold on to that for a little longer, so he settled for kissing his lips, leaning into his warmth and steadiness. He rested his hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under his fingertips. And he might’ve not seen him before, but he certainly wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away now.
“So… could we do this again?” Jean asked softly once they pulled away.
“Yeah. I would love to.”
Armin used to dread the ways in which his life had never gone as he had expected, but surrounded by the earthy smell of this man, and his kind hands and broad shoulders - he wondered if maybe that wasn’t so bad. Because sometimes, as late nights turn into early mornings and shared glances stretch a little too long, you realize that the best things in life are the ones that don’t go according to plan, especially when they’re as hot as Jean Kirstein.