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Eren just wants to have sex. He doesn’t understand why the universe refuses to give him that.
It’s been three weeks since Eren used a dildo for the first time. Three weeks since Jean used one on him. Three weeks since they agreed that the next time they get together, they’re going all the way.
Three. Fucking. Weeks.
Eren did all the preparations. He practiced using his toys at home (all eleven of them). He bought condoms. He even got a haircut, mainly to trim his split ends. His hair still touches his shoulders. If he cuts it too short, Jean won’t be able to grab it while he fucks Eren from behind.
Eren had it all planned out. Months of teasing and anticipation built up to this.
Then Eren got the fucking flu.
He doesn’t get sick often. Even when he does, some cold medicine and adequate hydration have him back on his feet in no time. Of course this time, he got so sick that he was on bedrest for a week and a half.
But it was fine. Eren and Jean had to postpone their meetup, but surely they’d meet up the following week.
Then there was a fucking snowstorm.
Which, in Eren’s biased opinion, he was totally justified in being pissed at. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen snow this late in February. Now out of nowhere they’re hit with eight inches. Eren wanted Jean, but not enough to walk through a blizzard to see him.
Though if he knew what awaited him the following week, there’s a high chance he would’ve considered it anyway.
“Hell yeah!”
Reiner and Connie clink their beer bottles before chugging them down. Reiner’s too buzzed to drink properly, so bits of it dribble down his chin. When he finishes, he wipes the excess with the back of his hand, a slick grin spreading on his face.
As the Warriors celebrate on the field, Reiner breaks into his own celebratory dance. He wiggles his shoulders. Pumps his fist. Then he does his signature gloat of shaking his ass in Eren’s face.
Eren pushes him away. “Fuck off.”
Reiner laughs, even when almost tripping over himself. Connie catches him and steers him back to the floor in front of the coffee table. Eren scowls from the recliner chair, irritation gnawing at his temples.
Connie turns to him. “Don’t be a sore loser,” he teases.
“It’s all right, Eren,” Armin says from the floor. “You guys can still catch up. At least, I think so.”
Reiner laughs again. “No they can’t. They’re fucking done for.”
Eren says nothing. He just glares at the television. This is why he prefers to watch football alone. The Scouts have been lackluster all season. Though Eren’s used to it, he struggles to contain his frustrations whenever they play. But the Warriors are Reiner’s favorite team, so their friend group likes to link up when the Warriors play the Scouts. Eren and Armin have the biggest living room, so they’re the usual hosts, even though Armin knows next to nothing about sports.
And, as expected, the Scouts are getting their asses kicked. It’s a Saturday night and Eren’s spending it tipsy, angry, and humiliated in his own home by his dumbass friend and his stupid theatrics. And Eren can’t even complain because if the roles were reversed, he’d be acting the same way.
Jean snorts from the far end of the sofa. He sips his beer before resting it on the end table.
“He just needs another drink.”
Eren ignores him. He’s been ignoring Jean all evening. He’s happy to see him, but not in these circumstances. Jean’s presence is just a torturous reminder of what Eren would rather be doing. What he’s been waiting weeks, no, months to do.
He keeps his focus on the television. It works out in his favor until a pair of legs obstructs his field of vision. Eren swallows down the urge to salivate over how nicely these jeans hug Jean’s thighs. His eyes slowly travel up Jean’s long frame until he’s met with a taunting shade of hazel.
“Come on,” Jean says, offering his hand. “Get up.”
Reluctantly, Eren takes his hand. The sleeves of Jean’s shirt are rolled up so he gets a perfect view of Jean’s forearms. His veins flex when he pulls Eren to his feet. It’s good their friends are still fixated on the game because there’s no way Eren’s lust isn’t written all over his face.
Jean gives a lopsided grin before turning away. Eren follows him into the kitchen. The refrigerator is stocked with cheap beer bottles since no one wanted to pay for the fancy stuff. To Eren, they all taste the same anyway.
Jean hands a drink to Eren. Eren pops it open and brings it to his lips. With his back to the living room, he takes advantage by unashamedly taking Jean into view. He could’ve killed Jean when he first walked through the front door looking like that. Jean Kirstein in an olive green button up is his personal torture. Like the bastard he is, he leaves the top two buttons undone, revealing the slightest hint of chest hair.
Eren can only stare. If their friends weren’t here, that shirt would’ve been ripped off hours ago. Eren would’ve pinned all 190 centimeters of this glorious man to the couch and paint his chest with his tongue. He would’ve let Jean flip their positions and let Jean finally, finally give him what he can’t stop thinking about.
“All good?” Jean asks.
Eren doesn’t blink while he sips his beer. His gaze remains on Jean, his eyes conveying everything their current situation won’t allow him to say.
It’s quick, but the flash of understanding on Jean’s face sets Eren’s body ablaze. But Jean quickly composes himself. He leans in to give Eren a little ruffle of the hair. Eren hates when he does that, but he doesn’t hate inhaling Jean’s sandalwood cologne when their bodies are this close.
A light chuckle fills the brief space between them, then Jean pulls away and leaves for the living room. Eren takes another sip before doing the same. He’s all of two steps inside when Reiner cheers at the television even louder than before.
“I’m confused,” Armin says. “What just happened?”
“Just know Eren’s about to be even more pissed off,” Connie clarifies.
Eren rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
Instead of returning to the reclining chair, he joins Jean on the sofa. The idiot’s been toying with him all evening with his delicious arms and devilishly perfect hair. He doesn’t deserve a full couch to himself. And after the bullshit it’s taken Eren to get here, he doesn’t deserve to only admire Jean from afar.
Jean raises a curious brow when Eren snags the middle seat. There’s minimal space separating Eren’s hip from his own. Jean says nothing, grabbing his beer and focusing back on the game. After a few minutes, he stretches his arm above his head before propping his elbow over the back of the sofa. Warm fingers graze Eren’s nape as they play with his hair. His touch is so gentle that Eren has to force himself not to lull into sleep.
Eren refuses to look his way. If he does, there’s no telling what he’ll do, but he guesses it’ll involve both of their mouths somehow. Instead he decides to beat Jean at his own game. Which is slightly ironic, as he’s not entirely sure Jean’s playing a game in the first place. Jean can’t know the simple act of caressing Eren’s hair has him in this much of a frenzy. But he’s about to find out.
Keeping a firm grasp on his drink, Eren places his free hand on Jean’s thigh. His adrenaline spikes. At any second, one of their friends can turn around and see what he’s doing. Eren’s not ready to discuss his sexuality with his friends. Probably won’t be for a long time. But for some twisted reason, the risk of getting caught excites him more than terrifies him.
The other thing that excites him is the brief pause from playing with Eren’s hair when he first touches Jean. When Jean resumes, his movements are tentative. Like he’s waiting to see what Eren does next. Half nervous, half curious.
Eren’s hand slides up. He digs into Jean’s flesh, squeezing the muscle like he’s claiming ownership. Jean spreads his legs a bit, and Eren fights off the erection begging to form in his pants.
His hand hovers over Jean’s crotch. He can’t actually touch Jean there right now, can he? Not with their friends around, even if they’re all too drunk and too invested in football to give a shit. The alcohol has Eren feeling bold, but not that bold.
Except apparently it does, because Eren starts palming at Jean’s cock. Jean must not expect it because he jerks forward, hitting the back of Eren’s head in the process, and spills his beer all over the front of his shirt.
“Shit.”
Eren retracts his hand before the others turn around. With all the attention on Jean, no one registers the smile forming on his face. He should feel bad. He does feel bad. Though he can’t ignore the satisfaction brewing within him.
“Oh, damn,” Connie says.
Armin stands up and extends his hand. “Give it to me. I’ll run it in the wash.”
Jean dismisses him. “It’s fine. It’s just a little stain.”
“I don’t mind.”
Jean hesitates but ultimately concedes. He stands, sets his drink on the end table, and begins to unbutton his shirt. Maybe Eren imagines it, but he swears Jean turns slightly toward him while undressing to show off. Regardless, Eren’s loving the view. He restrains from staring too hard, but he relishes at the faint blush that appears on Jean’s bare chest.
He tosses the shirt to Armin, who leaves to throw it in the washing machine. Without it, Eren can fully appreciate how firm Jean’s ass looks in those jeans. He can’t appreciate it for long, however, because Jean then turns back to him.
“Can I borrow one of your shirts?”
“Boo,” Reiner teases. “I was loving the free show.”
Jean side eyes him. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re being serious when you say shit like that.”
“Nah. If I were into dudes we would’ve fucked by now.”
“Who says I’d be into you?” Jean says, failing to suppress a laugh.
Connie sports a shit eating grin. “If anything, he’d be into Eren.”
Eren’s heart clenches. He fights through it, throwing on an amused smile. “Really?”
“Yeah. Jean loves brunettes. We all know that.”
“Ah,” Jean says, “but you forgot one thing.” He pauses for dramatic effect before following up with, “Eren’s annoying as fuck.”
That earns him a laugh. Except from Eren, whose face twists to a deadpan stare. Now he’s wishing he did more than just palm Jean through his pants. Bastard doesn’t deserve any mercy.
He grimaces and heads for his bedroom. “Let’s go.”
Once inside, Jean shuts the door behind them. The playfulness he demonstrated in the living room disappears instantly.
“What the hell was that?”
Eren shrugs. “Connie said it, not me.”
“Not that,” Jean says through his teeth. “Before that.”
“What?” Eren teases, taking a step closer. He runs a hand up Jean’s torso. “You didn’t like it?”
He waits for Jean to lie. Or to push Eren away. Tell Eren this is not the time nor place for silly games.
Instead, he simply says, “I don’t understand you.”
Eren’s gaze drops to his lips. “I’m not asking you to.”
He closes the gap between them, rising on his toes when Jean grabs him by the face. Jean reciprocates his intensity, kissing Eren like it’s his dying wish. Their desperation transfers between their mouths, a silent communication understood only by them.
Eren’s hand drifts south. He cups Jean again, squeezing harder than before. Jean splits Eren’s mouth open with his tongue, accompanied with a tight grip to the back of his head.
Eren smiles into the kiss. It’s about damn time he gets a little bit of relief. He kisses hard enough to make the moment count. It passes like a camera flash, intense but over far too soon.
He steps away from Jean. “Come on. Before they get suspicious.”
Jean scoffs, though the amusement in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. “You’re such a fucking tease.”
He makes for his dresser across the room. The bottom drawer is where he keeps all his oversized shirts, though for selfish reasons he snags a white tee that’s a hair too short for Jean’s long frame. He basks in his masterpiece when Jean throws it on. That little peek at Jean’s midriff is more than worth having to cut their make out session short.
Jean slips behind him on their way back to the living room. He gives Eren’s ass a subtle squeeze, which will have to hold him over until later. Eren’s waited long enough already. He can wait a little longer.
But tonight is his limit. Eren’s not sure how or when, but he’s getting his way tonight. He dares Jean to try and stop him.
*
Opportunity strikes well after midnight. Eren’s bundled under a blanket on the recliner chair watching a random Netflix movie at low volume. Armin’s asleep in his room. He went to bed hours ago. Reiner and Connie are passed out on the floor, Reiner’s snores overpowering any chance Eren has of hearing the TV. Connie’s drool gets on the carpet, though given how much his friends drank tonight, Eren’s just glad it’s not vomit.
Then there’s Jean, stretched out on the sofa. He sleeps on his side, arms crossed over his chest. Shaggy hair falls in front of his face. The television screen is just bright enough to capture the little pout he’s wearing.
Eren takes a moment to stare. An egomaniac like Jean appearing so soft and cute is always a treat. Eren offered him a spare blanket earlier, but he said he was fine. Still, Eren thinks he looks a bit cold.
Well, may as well warm him up.
Eren doesn’t need to mind his steps. He’s pretty sure a bomb can go off in this living room and his idiot friends will sleep through it. But he tiptoes over to the sofa anyway. He bites his lip while standing over Jean, his heartbeat pounding in his throat. He can’t believe what’s come over him. The Eren from a month ago would never be so bold.
He ignores the doubt creeping into his mind and sits in front of the couch, his face inches from Jean’s. Gently, he caresses Jean’s hair like Jean did to him earlier. He kisses Jean’s forehead, pauses, then kisses it again. When he pulls away, Jean’s face twists like he’s fighting to stay asleep.
Eren’s hand drops to his shoulder. He’s owned this shirt for years so he knows how soft it is, but the fabric feels even softer with Jean wearing it. He won’t mind sharing more of his clothes. Maybe not pants since the fucker is so damn long, but definitely more shirts that fall short on his torso. It’s not like Jean’s the type to turn down an opportunity to dress a little slutty.
Jean tilts his chin up, so Eren plants a soft kiss to his mouth. Jean immediately kisses back, his body waking up before his mind does. Eren keeps it short and chaste. He wants Jean fully awake for the rest.
When his eyes open, Jean blinks them several times to gauge where he is and what Eren’s doing in front of him. His confused face is adorable. So is the face he makes when his reality finally settles in.
“What are you doing?” he whispers.
Eren doesn’t answer with words. Only a suggestive smirk.
Jean’s eyes widen, seemingly ready to slap some sense into Eren. “Are you serious? Now?”
“I’m tired of waiting,” Eren whispers back. It’s a pathetic excuse, but sometimes getting what you want requires lacking a little dignity.
Jean takes several long breaths. Eren’s not sure if that’s for Jean’s benefit or his own. Jean's focus shifts to Reiner and Connie laid out on the carpet, hesitation overtaking his expression.
“They won’t wake up,” Eren says.
“They could.”
“They won’t. They’re plastered.”
Jean drags a hand down his face, which makes Eren beam like he just won the lottery. He knows Jean like the back of his hand. That demonstration of dread and resignation means Eren has Jean exactly where he wants him.
“I hate you,” Jean says.
Eren doesn’t call his bluff, not even when he locks his bedroom door and Jean is instantly all over him. Their knees knock together as they move to the bed, kissing each other out of desperation and relief. It’s like coming home after a long day. The rest of the world fades out, all the stress and the heartaches and the frustrations, and all that’s left is Eren and Jean.
Eren pushes Jean to the bed and drops to his knees. He wants to show Jean how badly he’s missed him. How much he’s dreamt of this, albeit under better circumstances. If Eren’s going to be risky enough to take Jean while their friends close by, he should make it worthwhile.
He undoes the buttons and zipper on Jean’s pants. He’s pleased that Jean’s cock is already half hard when he frees it. Eren gives a few light strokes before closing his lips around it. Jean sucks in a breath so cold that Eren feels it down his spine. He sinks down, making Jean twitch in his mouth. He suppresses his satisfaction and bobs his head, keeping his eyes on Jean while devouring him. The room is dark, but their desire is loud enough to shine through any lack of light.
“Shit,” Jean whispers. He gently guides Eren along his length. “You really want me, don’t you?”
Heat spreads to the back of Eren’s neck. But he shuts down the shame that wants to rush to the surface. There’s no room for that here, not now. Of course Eren wants Jean. He wouldn’t be on his knees sucking him off while their friends are asleep if he didn’t. The least he can do is own it.
His own cock aches in his pants as he takes Jean inch by inch. It just feels too good having Jean in his mouth. It doesn’t take long for Jean’s cock to become fully erect. When it does, Eren’s world blurs like he’s died and gone to heaven. It’s so thick, so hot. And soon enough, it’ll be filling Eren up in another way, one that’s way more tempting.
Jean pulls Eren off him. Before Eren can pout over it, he’s being yanked onto the bed and having his shirt torn off. Jean kicks the covers away and lays Eren’s dizzying head on the pillow before attacking his mouth.
Eren’s moans are silenced by Jean’s firm kiss. Arousal overpowers him, begging for release like an overinflated balloon. He wraps his legs around Jean and kisses him harder. He nips at Jean’s bottom lip, earning him a grunt that turns him on more than any touch can.
After a second tug at his lip, Jean leans away. He crosses his arms over his waist and discards his borrowed tee. Eren flips on the lamp switch on his nightstand and gawks without care. He can spend all day tracing his tongue through every crevice on that deliciously tanned torso. Kiss every tuft of hair on his chest and right below his naval. If he weren’t so desperate for something else, Eren would do exactly that.
Jean removes his jeans, so Eren does the same. Jean's cock is eager and inviting tucked inside a pair of bright red briefs. He looks too hot kneeling on Eren’s bed in nothing but his underwear. That little strip of clothing has Eren feeling like he’s being blue balled even though he just had Jean in his mouth moments prior.
A beat of silence passes of them just observing each other. Hazel eyes scan Eren, a thousand dirty thoughts flashing within them.
“You know how fucked we are if we get caught, right?”
“You know how fucked you are if you don’t touch me right now?” Eren counters.
Jean eases into a half grin. “Noted. Where’s your lube?”
Eren tilts his chin toward his dresser against the far wall. He knows it was the right choice to keep it there the moment Jean turns around. A perfectly sculpted ass blesses his view, paired with long, muscular legs Eren won’t mind having his head crushed by. Jean’s back is just as toned and impossibly smooth, begging to be covered with scratch marks.
While Jean fetches the lube, Eren sheds his underwear. He sprawls naked along his freshly washed bedsheets, parting his legs just enough to tease Jean. His reaction doesn’t disappoint, his eyes going dark as he crawls over Eren’s body.
They share a kiss. Not of lust, but of understanding. Jean’s genuine smile makes Eren’s chest tighten. He cups Jean’s face and kisses him once more, then lets Jean get to work.
Jean warms the lube in his hands, then brings two fingers to Eren’s hole. He teases the rim with slow circles. Eren bites his lip in anticipation, to which Jean answers with a sly smile. The sight is so captivating that Eren doesn’t notice when Jean’s fingers first slide inside him. But pleasure strikes him hard when they start to move.
His gasp cuts through the air like broken glass. Jean shushes him while keeping his movements slow. He kisses Eren’s temple before whispering in his ear.
“Want me to touch you? You need to keep quiet. Can you do that?”
Eren nods. Another gasp crawls up his throat, but he fights it down.
“Good.” Jean kisses his temple again. “Spread your legs, baby.”
Eren parts his legs wider. He clenches his jaw tight as Jean fingers graze over his most sensitive spots. A few whimpers escape him, but they’re quiet enough to not pose a threat. Jean even seems to appreciate them if his expression is anything to go by.
“Yeah,” Jean says, getting into a steady rhythm. “There you go.”
Eren pushes his hand through Jean’s hair. With the hair out of his face, Jean is even more attractive. His smile while Eren suppresses his noises is ethereal. The warm glow of the bedside lamp frames his features like a painting. He’s too perfect to be real, yet here he is, his touch sparking new life into Eren like no one else can.
“You like this?” he teases.
Eren more than likes it. He craves it. The closer Jean brings him to the edge, the farther away he feels.
“More,” Eren grits out. He rolls his hips in tune with Jean’s thrusting motions. “Come on.”
Jean starts to add a third finger, but Eren cuts him off.
“No. You.”
Temptation flashes across Jean’s face, but he reels it in.
“If I rush through it, you’ll get hurt.”
“I don’t care,” Eren begs. “Just fuck me, Jean. Please.”
He can’t hold back any longer. This has been building since that FaceTime call over New Years. Ever since that night, Jean Kirstein hasn’t left his mind. Jean’s arms, his abs, his cock, Eren’s developed a twisted obsession with claiming all of them for his own. If Jean doesn’t take Eren right here, right now, Eren’s agony will tear at him from the inside out.
Jean takes a moment to stare at him. His gaze fixates on Eren like he’s trying to decode something. If there’s a question lingering on his mind, he doesn’t ask it. All he says is, “Do you have a condom?”
He gestures back toward the dresser, but Eren catches him off guard by pulling out the one he tucked under his pillow before his friends came over. A bold assumption, but to Eren’s credit, it was the correct one.
“Oh, you really wanted this,” Jean says. He frees his cock from his underwear and begins stroking it. “You want this cock, don’t you, baby?”
Fucker has no idea. Eren nods like the greedy whore he is. The smile he gets in return is well worth sacrificing his pride.
“Okay,” Jean says softly. “As you wish.”
He steps off the bed to remove his underwear. Eren drinks in the view like he’s caught in a drought. Nothing steals his breath away like Jean in his full form. At times, Eren is still in disbelief that someone so sexy chooses to be with him and only him. But he’s too horny to worry about that right now.
Jean climbs back into bed and kneels between Eren’s thighs. He takes his time rolling on the condom, probably wanting to give Eren a good show. Which, to be fair, he absolutely does.
He coats his cock with lube, then lines himself up at Eren’s entrance. Eren’s heart skips several beats. This is really happening. He’s about to have sex with Jean Kirstein. This is what he’s wanted for a long while. So why is he so nervous all of a sudden?
“Ready?” Jean asks. His hand slides between Eren’s head and the pillow, cushioning him in his palm.
Eren swallows hard as Jean waits for his answer. He knows Jean will never do anything without his permission, so he nods while silently telling his brain to calm the fuck down.
Jean’s gaze shifts back to Eren’s ass. The tip of his cock is right against the rim. Eren clings to this final second of the unknown, before he and Jean take this next step. Once they cross it, they can never take it back.
Not that Eren will want to. He wants this. He wants Jean. And, whether he likes it or not, he wants Jean to want him.
Then, with a deep breath, Jean presses inside.
Eren’s eyes go wide. The feeling that hits him certainly isn’t pleasure. Though he can’t tell if it’s from having Jean’s cock inside him or from the shock that it’s happened at all.
“I know,” Jean whispers as he slides all the way in. He kisses Eren’s forehead. “Hold out for me.”
Eren winces through it but remembers to breathe. He trusts Jean more than he trusts himself at this point, so he’ll do anything Jean says.
Jean scans his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Eren replies, though he’s unsure if that’s completely true.
“Probably the wrong time to say this,” Jean tells him, “but you feel really fucking good.”
Eren’s face hardens. “I’ll kill you.”
“Sorry.”
He sounds like he means it, so Eren lets him off the hook. Besides, he knows Jean means to lighten the mood. Eren appreciates that more than he lets on.
He kisses Jean. It’s the only way to relax himself that comes to mind. It’s a tender kiss, one of reassurance rather than lust, and it’s exactly what Eren needs. The tension leaves his shoulders as he sinks into the mattress, his breathing returning to normal. Even the discomfort between his legs starts to dissipate.
Jean keeps a firm hold of Eren’s head. It’s as if he’s scared Eren will fall off the bed if he loosens his grip for a second. His kisses with Eren demonstrate that same protectiveness. He’s not going anywhere. Whatever Eren needs, Jean will give. Whatever Eren is scared to say, Jean will say it for him.
Without disconnecting their lips, Jean eases into a slow thrusting motion. Eren kisses him through the pain, through the shock of what his life has turned into in such a short time. It’s not the life he expected, though maybe that’s the beauty of it.
He whimpers against Jean’s mouth. The gentle rhythm in which he rocks his hips is more intense than if Jean were rough with him. Eren feels every bit of it from his head to his lower abdomen. When Jean starts kissing on his neck, a guttural groan leaves his lips.
“Oh my god.”
It’s a pleasure he never knew existed until now. This is a lot different from using a toy. A toy can’t give Eren this feeling of being cared for. There’s a message behind every thrust, every kiss, every smile against his skin. How he went twenty-two years without experiencing this, he’ll never know. But he intends to make up for lost time.
Jean lifts his head to smile at Eren. “Gotta stay quiet, okay?”
Eren nods, his face flushing. He forgot their friends are on the other side of this door. Well, if Jean wants him to not make noise, he should probably stop fucking him in ways that make that inevitable.
Jean reaches behind him and grabs the comforter. He hoists it above his head and drapes it over both of their bodies. Darkness consumes them, as well as a brisk rise in temperature. Eren can’t help but giggle. They’re like children building a secret fort. He expects Jean to reprimand him again, but is pleasantly surprised when Jean giggles right back.
They kiss again, though this one’s a bit sloppier since one or both keep laughing. The whole thing is ridiculous. They’re literally in Eren’s apartment and they’re having to sneak a hook up under the covers like they’re back in their college dorms. Though considering everything he knows about Jean and their relationship over the years, Eren shouldn’t be surprised at all. This is perfectly on brand for them.
Eren’s the first to cease his laughter. His giggles are replaced with gasps when Jean resumes that same slow, purposeful motion. His mouth hangs open as Jean fills him up, kissing anywhere and everywhere he can reach.
He hugs Jean around the back, savoring how Jean’s muscles move as he thrusts in deeper. It may just be the hottest thing about all of this. And that’s saying a lot considering Eren just felt Jean’s cock twitch inside him.
Jean drops his head against Eren’s shoulder. A heavy but quiet exhale leaves his lips. “Fuck, Eren.”
Never mind, that’s the hottest thing about all of this. The way Eren’s name rolls off Jean’s tongue when he’s overcome by pleasure, pleasure that only Eren can give him. Jean’s the one on top, yet he still falls victim to whatever effect Eren has on him.
Eren kisses his hair. Sweat starts to accumulate there, but that only makes Jean more attractive to him. Jean fucks him a little faster. Nothing that’ll make the bed squeak or have the headboard hit the wall, but a speed that fills Eren with butterflies and pushes him closer to his high.
“You’re so perfect,” Jean says. “Oh god.”
He lifts his head again, this time pressing his forehead against Eren’s. Their eyes lock, time freezing between them. Jean studies the way Eren’s face contorts from being fucked just right. Eren’s arousal only increases from Jean watching him. Jean’s gorgeous eyes focusing only on him, his hips meeting Eren’s ass with timely thrusts that have him reeling, Eren’s never been so turned on in his life.
“Talk to me,” Jean says.
Eren pauses his gasps long enough to cheekily reply, “You told me to be quiet.”
“Just talk, baby. Tell me you love it.”
No sly remark, just a resigned plea. One that stuns Eren into silence. For as much as he feels his own walls crumbling down, Jean’s are crumbling just as fast. The sincerity in his gaze is as intimidating as it is captivating. Eren can’t look away from it. He’s not even sure he wants to.
“I-I love it,” he chokes out. “You feel so good.”
Something flashes in Jean’s eyes. Before Eren can decipher it, Jean surges forward and kisses him. Their lips dance to the same rhythm in which Jean rocks his hips. Eren feels himself melt into the bedsheets, melt into Jean’s touch. His past fades into nothing, his future taking shape. A new life, a new beginning, a new sense of self.
And right there, at the center of it all, is Jean Kirstein.
Eren pulls back to stare at him. He cups Jean’s face, almost as if he needs to confirm that this is real. That someone so enchanting can actually exist.
His voice drops to a whisper. “You’re…”
“I’m what?”
Eren catches himself, his words going unfinished. There’s no way he was about to call Jean Kirstein beautiful and mean it. In the heat of the moment, he just got carried away. A prime danger of continuing to hook up with one of his oldest friends, something he’s conveniently forgotten these last few weeks. At least he remembered before he said something he’d regret.
“Huh?” Jean teases. He gives Eren’s shoulder a light kiss. “What am I?”
Eren wheezes a soft laugh. “You’re too much for me.”
“You don’t even know. I’m going easy on you right now.”
Eren doesn’t doubt it. He also can’t blame Jean. This is Eren’s first time, plus their friends can wake up at any minute. This isn’t the time to go all out.
But that doesn’t stop Eren from imagining it. Jean fucking him against the wall. On the floor. In the shower. Taking Eren without mercy until he forgets his own name. The only name he’ll know is Jean’s because he’ll be screaming it until his voice breaks.
Eren throws the blanket off them. If he can’t experience that version of Jean, he at least wants to experience this version to the fullest. No childhood forts to inhibit their fun.
His eyes trail down, right to where Jean’s cock meets his ass. He watches Jean slide in and out of him. Watches his ass take him without resistance. Watches the way Jean’s abs flex while pounding into him.
“Holy shit,” Eren whispers. His own cock aches against his stomach.
Jean smirks and hooks one of Eren’s legs over his shoulder. Eren parts his lips, but no sound comes out. He observes Jean with pleading eyes, fighting against the pleasure that wants him to close them. But Eren’s not allowing himself to miss a single second.
“Yeah, look at you,” Jean says, his smile widening. “Tight little ass taking all this cock. Such a good boy.”
Eren can’t resist anymore. He grabs his own cock and strokes it with desperation. Jean responds by moving a bit faster, which finally breaks him. His head leans back against Jean’s palm and he lets out a faint cry, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Shit,” Jean says, his voice deeper than usual. “You wanna come?”
Eren nods. Yes, he wants nothing more than to come right now. He wants to milk himself dry to the feeling of Jean pounding him. Wants to see Jean’s reaction when he clenches around his cock.
Then, just when he thinks Jean can’t get any hotter, he leans down and holds Eren close. “I’ll fuck you through it. Come on, baby.”
Jean’s collarbone absorbs all the moans and grunts Eren’s bottled inside until now. Jean kisses Eren’s head when his semen spills out, covering both of their stomachs. Jean picks up his speed and hugs Eren tighter. His cock feels even bigger as Eren rides out his orgasm. It feels like Eren’s being split open and he can’t get enough.
“Holy shit,” Jean breathes out. “Oh, fuck Eren, I’m coming.”
His thrusts turn sloppy. The sound of his hips hitting Eren’s ass is filthy and intoxicating. Jean emits a final groan before he collapses on top of Eren, his breaths dragged out dramatically. His heartbeat presses against Eren’s, loud and erratic.
Eren wraps his arms around him and tries to relegate his own heartbeat, as well as the dozens of thoughts racing through his mind.
“Oh my god,” Jean sighs into Eren’s shoulder. “That was…”
“Yeah,” Eren replies. He can’t think of anything else to say.
“Do you think anyone heard?”
Fuck.
Eren slides out from under him. As soon as Jean’s cock slips out, he feels strangely empty. Until he tries to stand up, then he just feels sore. A stiff pain welcomes his ass that has him waddling while he fetches his clothes. He ignores the stupid snickers coming from the bed.
His cum is already drying against his stomach, but he masks his disgust for the time being. Once he’s dressed, he rushes out of his room and back to the common area, dread pooling through him. He half expects Reiner and Connie to be sitting on the couch with raised eyebrows and amused grins, ready to hit Eren with a thousand different questions.
But no. To his delight, they’re both still knocked out on the floor. Reiner’s snores are music to his ears, which is the first time Eren’s ever thought that.
He exhales, an easy smile overtaking his face. Sometimes it annoys him how stupid his friends are. But it comes in handy during certain occasions.
He heads back the way he came, toward the bathroom to clean himself up. The door’s halfway open, the light bleeding out into the hallway. Jean must already be in there.
Whatever. Eren’s already had Jean’s dick inside him. There’s literally no such thing as privacy anymore between them.
Jean’s sitting on the edge of the tub, drying his hands on a bath towel. When Eren enters, he looks at him expectantly.
“You’re lucky,” Eren declares.
“No, you’re lucky. You were making so much noise.”
Eren grimaces and removes his shirt. “It’s not my fault.” He runs his hands under the sink and cleans himself up.
“Felt too good?” Jean teases.
“Shut up.”
“Hey, this happened tonight because of you,” Jean reminds him. “You’re the one that wanted it.”
It’s true. If Eren exercised an ounce of self-restraint, this would’ve been just another night with his buddies. But Eren’s thirst for Jean outweighed common sense. He took a risk and, to his delight, it more than paid off.
He turns to Jean. “What if I want it again?”
Jean tenses up, looking at Eren like he can’t believe someone can be so impulsive.
“Not now,” Eren clarifies, “but…soon. Maybe at your place. Where we don’t have to worry about keeping quiet.”
“Are you sure?” Jean stands up and moves toward Eren. When he’s close enough, he brushes Eren’s hair over his shoulder. “I wasn’t lying, you know. I went easy on you.”
“I went easy on you too,” Eren says.
Jean’s amusement is evident. “Is that so?”
“Guess you’ll find out.”
Jean smiles again. That desire to call him beautiful sneaks up Eren’s throat again. But Jean interrupts him with a perfectly timed kiss. When he responds, Eren still feels that damning smile against his lips.
“Can’t wait.”