I Think You're A Stupid Bitch!

by Skyla_Vulpix

Summary:

Jean is fine with the thing he has going on with Eren. What started off as casual fucking has now become a bit more, though they haven't quite talked about it. What Jean is NOT fine with, however, is how he can't stop thinking about how fucking hot Eren is when he speaks German. And how he maybe, just maybe, wants to get railed by a German-speaking Eren. Badly.

Notes:

I don't even know how this happened. But one fine day, I was like - hey, wouldn't it be funny to write a quick fanfiction about how downright AWFUL German dirty talk is? And hey, aren't Jean and Eren the perfect victims for that? And so, this piece of literature was born. Yay.

To prevent anyone from feeling left out of the jokes, I added the English translations - except for when it gets explained in the story anyway.
To everyone like me, who was either born in Germany or has a better understanding of the language for any other reason, I apologize for the amount of cringe you're probably about to experience.

But other than that - enjoy!

One time, when they were grabbing lunch together, Armin nerded about something he learned in his latest lecture, about how it is apparently scientifically proven that, depending on what language you’re speaking, your personality changes at least marginally.

 

“Oh really?” Jean just said while taking a sip of his ginger ale, raising his eyebrows and then letting Armin ramble on, who’s blue eyes shone with glee as he talked so fast and without stopping that his soup became cold in the end.

 

After that, he’s never given Armin’s words more thought. He just thinks it’s ridiculous. Your personality is your personality. That’s fucking it. You don’t just momentarily evolve like a Digimon just because you express your thoughts with a different vocabulary and through alternative grammar.

 

Seriously.

 

“Does he have to stay here? Can’t he like - go visit a hotel or something?” Jean whines as he passes Eren a pillow from the dresser despite the fact that, deep down, he has already come to terms with the whole situation. Because well, they have talked about this repeatedly and it has always gone the same way: Jean bitched about having to host Zeke fucking Jäger for two weeks, Eren told him to fuck off. Jean then relented and began pouting.

 

He still isn't happy about it though, so he is determined to complain to Eren about it every chance he gets. 

 

“Stop being such a fucking dick, Jean. I’m not shunting my brother off to some hotel now that we actually have a spare room, no matter how annoying he is.”

 

Said spare room used to be Eren’s before he, well, kind of stopped sleeping there. He has still used it as a kind-of office for a while, but that stopped too once his printer broke and Jean told him he could just use his instead. (It was way better anyway, no matter what Eren said.)

 

“I swear, if he stays for more than 336 hours, I’ll throw him out of this very window.” Jean says with menace. They live on the second floor.

 

Completely unimpressed by Jean’s threat, Eren just snorts, stuffing the pillow into the pillowcase.

 

“I’d really like to see you try, dude. Zeke is in the army, remember?”

 

Huffing, Jean crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Yeah well - as a fucking doctor .”

 

One eyebrow raised, Eren plops down on the freshly made bed, slightly crumpling the blanket he had just folded in half. “So what? He is still trained in combat. The only experience you have is throwing fists with me in highschool and may I remind you that you never won?”

 

Face going slightly hot at the memory, Jean swiftly turns around to close the dresser again. “Yeah well, fuck you, Jäger - no need to be so smug about it, you with your stupid karate lessons.”

 

There is a low chuckle behind him and before he knows it, he feels a warm and solid presence pressing against his back.

 

“Hm - so what makes you think you could take my brother, huh? I hate to admit it, but he could probably yeet me in another dimension.” Eren mumbles directly into Jean’s ear, chin propped up on his shoulder.

 

“I never - what I said was completely rhetorical and you fucking know it.” Jean grumbles, trying to step on Eren’s toes. 

 

It is frustrating to no end as Eren seems to look right through him, sidestepping Jean’s assaulting heels without even looking.

 

And because Jean never just admits defeat like that - especially not to Eren Jäger of all people, a fierce determination settles in.

 

Thinking quickly, Jean aims for Eren's ribs with his elbow, feeling the impact with an ugly satisfaction that becomes even worse as he hears a small pained grunt coming from the other.

 

"Oh you little shit -!" Eren hisses. Jean can practically see the disgruntled expression forming on his face at that moment. The mental image puts a smile on his face.

 

Evading the arms that plan to circle his torso, Jean turns around, heavily colliding with the dresser in his haste.

 

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Eren asks, reaching out as if to steady Jean, but Jean is having none of it. Slapping the approaching hand he knows was meant to tickle or grab him, he moves out of Eren’s space, stepping into the middle of the room where he can't be cornered.

 

“After all these years, how come you still even try your dirty little tricks?” Jean questions, watching Eren like a hawk, who still hasn’t fully turned around to him, as if he isn’t seeing Jean as even the slightest threat.

 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“You know exactly what I - ooof!” Quick and agile like a striking cobra, Eren turns around, hugs Jean’s waist and picks him up as if he weighs nothing to him. (Which is unfair, because Jean was still a few inches taller than him, okay?)

 

“Put me - Eren! ” Jean squawks, but he can’t stop Eren from forcibly throwing him onto the bed. Without waiting for Jean’s body to stop bouncing on the mattress, Eren straddles his waist, pinning Jean’s hands above his head.

 

He would be pissed at Eren’s fucking delighted smirk if he didn’t find the whole situation also kind of hot. His pride might roll over in its grave, but the truth is that Eren manhandling Jean does push a few of his favorite buttons.

 

“So - uh, you wanted to say something?” Eren asks and blows at a strand of hair that dangles in front of his eyes.

 

Scoffing, Jean tries to push Eren off of him, only to quickly find that he can't. Not with the soft ground beneath him that provides very little leverage and to make matters worse, Eren has thrown him so far onto the bed that his feet can’t quite touch the ground anymore.

 

So the only thing he manages in the end is to wiggle beneath Eren’s butt like a bug on its back. “Fuck you.”

 

“Still such a sour loser. One might think you’d get used to it at some point.” Eren gloats, clearly pleased with himself. 

 

Jean is prepared to defend what was left of his honor as he feels something … weird at his hip.

 

“Uhm -” He starts, looking down at himself with confused blinking. “Eren, I think you’re vibrating.”

 

“Oh, you’re right.”

 

With just as much concentration as needed for picking up a pen, Eren makes quick work to restrain both of Jean’s wrists with one big hand before holding himself up on his knees, grabbing behind himself to pull his phone out.

 

Smelling the perfect opportunity, Jean tries one more time to buck Eren off like a green horse. Eren, however - curse that bastard, seriously - doesn’t even make a face and just plops right back down on Jean’s crotch, making him grunt in pain.

 

“Hi Zeke.”

 

Groaning, Jean tilts his head back to look at the ceiling. Zeke calling Eren means that the plane has already landed. Which, again, means that there really is no turning back anymore. (Jean has kind of hoped that the plane would crash somewhere above the Atlantic Ocean.)

 

“Na, guten Flug gehabt?”

“Did you have a nice flight?”

 

For one surreal moment, Jean thinks there is another person in the room. Someone who’s supposed to be Eren and succeeds in the main aspects, but doesn’t entirely manage to escape the uncanny valley. Either that or Jean has suffered from brain damage at some point.

 

Breath stopping for a moment, Jean slowly tears his eyes away from the ceiling and looks back at Eren, who is staring intently at Jean’s exposed belly button where his shirt has riled up from their earlier tossling.

 

“Ja genau, der Bahnhof ist ja direkt nebenan quasi - du weißt noch welchen Zug …? Okay, perfekt, dann mache ich mich jetzt los - was?”

“Yes exactly, the train station is basically right next to it - do you still know which train …? Okay, perfect, then I’ll get going now - what?”

 

Trailing off again, Eren listens to the soft rumbling coming from the speaker, tapping his finger against Jean’s arm absentmindedly. After a moment, he gives an exasperated huff, rolling his eyes.

 

“Alter, ich habs dir jetzt schon tausendmal gesagt: Ich werde dich ganz sicher nicht Levi vorstellen.”

“Dude, I’ve told you a thousand times now: I sure as hell won’t introduce you to Levi.”

 

At the sound of that familiar name, Jean frowns, searching in Eren’s face for some sort of clue what he is talking about with his brother. But sadly, Jean isn’t a mindreader, so he remains none the wiser.

 

“Ist doch scheißegal, ob er jetzt mein Ex ist oder nicht, er bedeutet mir noch viel genug, dass ich dich ihm ganz bestimmt nicht auf den Hals hetzen werde.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter if he’s my ex now or not, he’s still important enough to me that I most certainly won’t sic you on him.”

 

A scoff at whatever Zeke has to say to - whatever that has been - and Eren graciously slips out of his earlier claimed “seat”, pulling Jean up in his way without even looking.

 

“Weil du ein absoluter creep bist, Zeke!” “Because you’re an absolute creep, Zeke!” He calls, walking out of the room and leaving Jean alone to sit at the edge of the bed like a complete moron. This part, at least, sounds about right - putting the words creep and Zeke in one sentence.

 

Jean watches Eren’s retreating back for a few seconds before he quickly catches himself in order to jump to his feet and follow Eren to the entrance area of their apartment, where he is already in the midst of putting on his jacket, phone wedged between his shoulder and ear.

 

“- halt einfach die Klappe und erwisch deinen Zug, Junge.” “- shut your trap and go catch your train, dude.” He hears Eren say, voice betraying his annoyment. It’s a tone Jean knows all too well from him, but there is something … sharper, maybe, to it now. 

 

It’s weirdly attractive to Jean.

 

Crouching down, Eren slips into his boots, tying the laces at an impressive speed.

 

“Ja ja - vergiss es, Jean wird dir da ganz sicher auch nicht helfen. Und jetzt verpiss dich, ich fahre los. Wenn du deinen Zug verpasst hast und ich im Bahnhof eine halbe Stunde auf dich warten muss, setzt es was. Ciao.”

“Yeah, yeah - forget it, Jean surely won’t help you either. And now piss off, I’m getting in my car. If you miss your train and I’ll have to wait for you at the station for half an hour, I’m gonna beat you up. Ciao [duh.]”

 

Ending the call, Eren grabs his keys from the bowl on the cabinet and turns around to Jean, who is only slightly panicking at having heard his name somewhere among forgein and mysterious words.

 

“Ich bin bald zurück, ja?” Eren hums, before he grabs Jean’s face with both hands and pulls him down for a soft kiss. Jean is too caught up on wondering whether Eren has just talked to him or if that has only been a monolog to really reciprocate. “Könntest du dich vielleicht ums Essen kümmern, noch einen Tee machen oder so? Er hat’s vielleicht nicht verdient, aber nach zwölf Stunden fliegen könnte Zeke bestimmt was richtiges vertragen, nicht nur den Flugzeug-Fraß.” He then keeps on babbling, smoothing a thumb over Jean’s cheekbone. And for the life of him, Jean can’t say why but something about the way he talks, about the way his voice sounds just a pitch deeper than normally somehow - it makes Jean’s heart rate pick up.

 

“Eren, I haven’t got a fucking clue what you’re saying right now.” Jean manages to whisper, voice way too breathy for his own liking and he prays that Eren’s mishap right now would overshadow his weird behavior so he wouldn’t be called out on it.

 

It actually seems to go his way, thank goodness - because Eren’s eyes widen for a moment and he lets go of Jean’s face to touch his lips in disbelief before he starts laughing, skin around his eyes crinkling beautifully.

 

“Holy fucking shit, that has never happened to me, wow. Sorry, babe - I just said that I’ll be back soon and well, I asked you to make dinner and prepare tea or something.” And then, because he clearly expects Jean to whine and throw a tantrum or something, he reaches up to cover Jean’s mouth with his hand before he quickly continues. “I know, I know, you hate my brother and all that, but - please?” Throwing Jean his most charming smile, he hooks his fingers through Jean’s belt loops and pulls, pressing their middle sections together, laying it on thick in order to convince Jean to do as he said. Little does he know that Jean is still so much out of it that he doesn’t have it in him to react as he normally would.

 

But Jean still has enough of his rationality to dissemble his momentary weakness.

 

“Yeah fine, whatever, go and pick up your asshole-brother while I go and put poison in his tea.” He grumbles, which makes Eren giggle.

 

“Good boy.” He says mockingly, reaches around Jean to give his backside a light slap and then he is out.

 

Jean stands there, looking at the door as he listens to Eren’s shoes echoing in the stairwell as he makes his way down, one hand almost protectively over his still racing heart.

Weird.

 

But it isn't as if this is going to become a problem, is it?

 

Nah.

 

***~***~***

 

Jean has a problem.

 

He likes it when Eren speaks German. To an almost unhealthy amount.

 

This much has been becoming obvious embarrassingly quick.

 

Because instead of being as much of an asshole as he could when, not even an hour later, Eren entered their apartment again, this time with Zeke in tow, Jean just … lingered at the corner to the entrance area, listening completely mesmerized to Eren talking with his brother in their mother tongue, lazily leaning against the wall and twirling his keys around on his forefinger, giving Zeke all the space he needed to take off his shoes and jacket.

 

As soon as Zeke stood in front of him, he found that all the snarky, subliminal insults he had planned to throw at Zeke’s head had disappeared into thin air.

 

But it only got worse after that.

 

Watching Eren jab Zeke with a spatula that still had pieces of egg sticking to the dark wood while his tongue formed alien words like it was nothing had Jean miss the toast he wanted to bite into, which almost ended with him chomping his own finger off.

 

On the third day, Eren wanted to give Zeke a tour of the city. But instead of thanking the gods for a few hours of Zeke-free time and using said opportunity to finish at least one of his five running art commissions, Jean hurried to take a shower so he could accompany them. It earned him a weird glance from Eren, but Jean just lied his ass off, claiming he wanted to procrastinate, while internally slapping himself for losing his dignity like that.

 

As it turns out, there is not an ounce of dignity left in the man that once has been Jean Kirstein, because after ten minutes of listening to Eren speak German and trying not to drool, Jean runs into a lamp post with full speed, effectively bursting a few veins in his nose. Naturally, it reacts by starting to bleed like a slaughtered pig.

 

Next to him, he hears a young woman gasp loudly. Somewhere behind him, a child begins to cry. He cannot tell if the second thing is connected with him too.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jean - how did you do that?” Eren exclaims after he has quickly spun around at the sound of clanging metal and Jean cursing colorfully. With brows furrowed in worry, he rushes up to him, carefully pulling down the hands Jean is holding his nose with. “Fuck, you’re bleeding like shit, dude - just, can you sit there for a moment?” Pushing him to sit down on a nearby bench, he turns around to Zeke.

 

“Hast du ein Taschentuch dabei oder so?” “Are you carrying a tissue with you or something?” He asks, hands lying heavily on Jean’s shoulders, softly rubbing the joints there. Jean wants to groan - and not just because his face burns like fire and he feels as if he is being water-boarded.

 

“Tatsächlich ja - hier.” “I actually do - here you go.” A nearly full package of tissues is dug out of Zeke’s pocket and handed to Eren, who wipes most of the blood off Jean with surprising gentleness, face twisted in concentration before he uses a fresh one to press hard against Jean’s hurting nose. Without wanting to, he feels tears spill out from his eyes at the new fresh wave of pain, mostly by a bodily reflex. Face betraying neither judgment nor teasing, Eren uses his second hand to wipe them away as he speaks again. “Scheiße, ist die vielleicht gebrochen oder so? Zeke, kannst du dir das mal ansehen?” “Shit, is it broken or something? Zeke, could you take a look at it?”

 

"Laber nicht, so schnell bricht keine Nase. Aber meinetwegen." “As if, a nose doesn’t break this easily. But fine.” Zeke answers, to which Eren steps away. Jean knows what is about to come and he doesn't like it one bit. True to his hunch, Zeke crouches down in front of him, way too near for comfort and Jean has to watch how he pushes those ridiculous glasses of his up his nose.

 

Feeling like a pet at the face of a hated vet, Jean holds his breath as hands begin to prod his face. At least they are pleasantly warm.

 

"Looks alright. Just keep applying pressure for a few more minutes." Zeke then says, thoughtful enough to speak in a language Jean can understand.

 

"Thanks." Jean grumbles, because he can be polite, okay?

 

He kind of regrets behaving for once, because Zeke fucking smirks at him almost knowingly before he looks up at Eren, still crouched down in front of Jean and completely ignorant to invading his personal bubble like this.

 

“Dein Freund ist echt ein ganz schöner Idiot. Hättest du dir keinen besseren schnappen können?” “Your boyfriend really is a right idiot. Couldn’t you have picked someone better?” Zeke then says, drawing something that is almost a snarl out of Eren.

 

“Alter!” “Dude!” Eren bores his knee into Zeke’s shoulder with force, which throws him off balance. Zeke has to stop the fall with his hand, which leads to him touching a disgusting looking piece of gum that someone has spit on the ground. Heh.

 

“Red’ nicht so über ihn, du Bastard. Und erst recht nicht so über ihn hinweg, benimm dich!” “Don’t talk about him like that, you bastard. And definitely not behind his back like that, behave yourself!” Eren then grounds out, forcing Zeke out of Jean’s space to put himself in his place. Zeke, who sadly had almost no reaction to touching this vile piece of gum, only stands up, wiping his hand off on a wet wipe he produces from the pocket - why the hell is this guy so damn well prepared for everything?

 

“Ach, jetzt hab dich nicht so, Prinzessin. Du nennst ihn doch auch immer einen Idioten.” “Come on, don’t be like that, princess. You always call him an idiot too.” Zeke mumbles and throws the wet wipe into a bin.

 

“Ja ach ne, aber ich sage es ihm wenigstens ins Gesicht.” “Well, you don’t say - but at least I tell it to his face.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Zeke turns his attention to Jean.

 

“You’re a complete idiot.”

 

“Fuck you, Zeke.” Jean replies evenly in a nasally voice as he still presses a scrunched up tissue against his nose. He can feel that stupid thing closing up too now. Ew. He should have went to his atelier to draw that stupid impressionistic take on of his clients’ wedding picture after all.

 

Grinning, Zeke looks at Eren again. “So besser?” “That better?”

 

With a huff, Eren puts a hand on the back of Jean’s neck, holding him securely as his other hand soothes up and down his arm. Jean feels the tips of his ears turn red at the gentle affection and he is helpless to it as he rests his forehead against Eren’s stomach, hoping he isn't about to be pushed away because there is a high chance that he soils Eren’s hoodie with blood like this. Eren doesn’t make a move to push him away, quite the contrary - he takes another small step towards Jean, sheltering him further from the prying looks of the general public.

 

“Oh ja, ich kann kaum an mir halten, Zeke. Du bist so ein toller Kerl … Was?” “Oh yes, I’m basically swaying on my feet, Zeke. You’re such a great guy … What?” Eren’s voice is deadpan and sarcastic at first, then turns cautious and balky with the last word. A question, Jean supposes.

 

“Was ‘was’?” “What ‘what’?” Zeke asks, feigning innocence.

 

“Was schaust du mich so an?” 

“What are you looking at me for?”

 

“Och, nichts, nichts. Dachte nur nicht, dass du auch mal so drauf sein kannst.” 

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just didn’t think you could be like that too.”

 

“Wie ‘so drauf sein’?”

“What do you mean ‘be like that’?”

 

“Na so halt -” 

“Well, like that .”

 

“Wow, Zeke. Und du sollst Medizin studiert haben.” 

“Wow, Zeke. And someone like you went to med school.”

 

“Stell dich nicht doof, Eren. Du weißt genau was ich meine. So beschützerisch und liebevoll. Wenn man dich so sieht kann man fast denken, bei dem hier seien echte Gefühle im Spiel.”

“Don’t act stupid now, Eren. You know exactly what I mean. [Didn’t think you could be] protective and caring like that. If one sees you like that, one could almost think that with this one, there are actual feelings involved.”

 

Jean can feel Eren freeze, hand on his arm stilling for a moment. All of this makes Jean pretty curious what this all was about.

 

“Nenn’ ihn gefälligst beim Namen und sag nicht nur ‘bei dem hier’.” “You’d better call him by his name and not just say ‘with this one’.” Eren grumbles and for a moment, there is silence. Then, Zeke begins to laugh, loud and unpleasant and long. Curiosity having grown too big now, Jean pulls away from Eren for just a bit and looks back and forth between a laughing Zeke who holds his stomach - and Eren, who … is blushing quite obviously as he stares dead ahead.

 

Huh.

 

***~***~***

 

So yeah. Jean has a fucking problem. A problem that is so bad, in fact, that it has changed him in ways he can’t even believe. A problem that has twisted his very being so far that he does not throw an absolute fit when Zeke stays for more than the fourteen days “and not a second longer” he has been promised. It is the opposite, actually, he is kinda bummed out now that Zeke has actually left - and that terrifies Jean to no end. 

 

But why, you may ask. Why has he kind of enjoyed having Zeke under his roof for just a bit longer? Well, it was all because Zeke staying longer meant three and a half days packed with additional little moments where Jean could stop at the door to the living room, often barefoot and with a sandwich in hand, eavesdropping on Eren speaking German with his brother, jam dripping out from between the slices and over his hand.

 

He then stayed there for an ungodly long time, eating his food slower than ever and licking the jam off his fingers while every word Eren spoke cut through him like a knife, making his inside go all warm and tingly and weird until he was leaning against the wall, sucking scatterbrained at the last knuckle he would have cleaned off.

 

Because, the bottom line is - Armin, this evil genius, was right. Eren is like a slightly different person whenever he speaks German. His voice is deeper. His fucking laugh sounds different (how was this possible?!). 

 

English-speaking Eren is a menace, annoying, sassy, bullheaded and a notorious flirt. German-speaking Eren seems to fly through whatever he is doing, is confident in the way honey badger easily bullies a Cape buffalo into leaving his property, and acts so crude as if shame is a forgein word - all in all, he is an even badder bitch than normal. 

 

Someone who can probably bent Jean over the table and fuck him from behind with inhuman strength until he is a quivering mess that can’t even grab the edge of the table anymore - all while easily dealing with even the nastiest of Jean's customers, voice even and full of authority, a hand ready to warningly pinch Jean’s butt whenever he so much as lets a whine escape.

 

In the present, Jean groans and lets his forehead fall to the cold glass of the window he has zoned out through since Eren has left like an hour ago to drive Zeke to the airport. 

 

That ridiculous part of having the hots for Eren speaking a different language (of all things!) aside - Jean fucking hates being told what to do. Why does he also enjoy taking such a submissive role? There and then - and only for his personal pride - he sets it his personal goal to fuck Eren up the ass at least once until this week is over.

 

Come to think of it, when has been the last time he’s topped Eren? Ah right, two months ago, when -

 

“Dude. You alright? Got a stomach ache or something?”

 

Jean jerks back from the window and turns his head around. Fuck, he hasn’t even heard Eren come back, let alone enter the kitchen.

 

“‘m fine.” Jean grumbles and watches how the other shrugs and reaches up to take two cups from the cabinet before flicking the electric kettle on.

 

He then watches Eren rummaging around for a while longer, how he’s making tea just how they individually like it, before Jean bites his lip and turns towards the window again, wiping away the stain of oil his skin has left on the glass with his sleeve. 

 

He supposes he could tell Eren about his developing kink. Say something around the lines of “Hey, could you maybe - you know - talk to me in German next time you fuck me into oblivion?” It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing they have done together.

 

Eren hugging him from behind and slipping a hand under his hoodie to splay it over his stomach stops him from saying anything further, though.

 

“Thank you for not throwing my brother out of the window.” He says and Jean can see the rough image of him grinning into Jean’s shoulder through the reflection in the window.

 

“Yeah, whatever. You seemed happy that he was here, so-” Jean vaguely shrugs and leans back into Eren’s body, enjoying his warmth and firmness.

 

“I guess I was …” Eren mumbles in that lost-in-thought voice that also betrays he’s dealing with some deeper emotions right now. Jean knows he is right when Eren’s voice is solemn as he continues. “It’s weird - this is probably the most time we spent together without months of interruption, you know?”

 

And boy, does Jean know. He knows about how Eren and Zeke have different mothers. How Carla has seen Zeke twice, maybe. And how Eren has seen Dina just about never. About how Grisha subtly (but not subtle enough) kept Eren and Zeke from seeing each other. Probably out of shame. Definitely out of cowardice. How he moved far, far away from his first family roughly fifteen years after starting a new one. And how Zeke hates him for that.

 

“Back then, I - I couldn’t really understand why Zeke was always so mad about us having so little time together. For me it was just - yeah sure, it was fun to play with this cool, older kid who always let me win and called me his little brother, but in the end it just also didn’t quite matter that he was out of reach most of the time. Now I kinda feel bad about that, though.”

 

Not knowing what else to do, Jean puts his hand over Eren’s, squeezing slightly as he continues to be silent, wondering if something has happened in the past hour that made Eren so melancholic or if this was just Eren’s brain pulling him down into a dump as it sometimes does.

 

“Oh god, did I ever - Did I ever tell you about how he used to promise me that he would ‘grow up as quickly as possible, get a job and become my legal guardian’? So I wouldn’t have to live with our father anymore?” Eren asks, laughing humorously.

 

“You didn’t.” But Jean can’t say that he’s surprised. From what he’s seen or heard from Zeke, two things are clear: One - he is kinda intense and radical. Two - he loves his brother with a fierce loyalty that surprises Jean every time he witnesses it.

 

“Yeah well, he did. God, I think he was sixteen and I was six or something.” Eren shakes his head and buries his nose between Jean’s shoulder blades. Then he takes a deep breath and Jean braces for something to happen.

 

“He hugged me goodbye earlier. I almost started bawling my eyes out. What the fuck is happening to me Jean? I felt like I was pregnant or something, completely emotional and stupid. He is such a creepy bastard and an asshole, why do I -?”

 

“Wow okay, hold on a second.” Jean stops his idiotic and pathetic rambling and turns around in his arms, cupping the other’s face with his hands. Eren is gnawing at his bottom lip and avoids meeting Jean’s eyes. “So what if he’s an asshole? You’re still allowed to fucking care about him, idiot. I mean - you’re an asshole too, so who fucking cares. Half of our friends are assholes. Most of the people you’ve been with are assholes, seriously. I’m an asshole. Levi is an asshole. Reiner - okay, Reiner probably isn’t an asshole, but -”

 

At this, Eren laughs and finally looks up at Jean, grinning.

 

“Yeah no, Reiner is a fucking sap. During a party, I found a box with written love letters and poems, all dedicated to Berthold.”

 

“I can … see that.” Jean mumbles, not exactly shocked but also weirdly horrified before another idea forms in his head. Smirking, he asks: “You don’t happen to remember one or two lines, do you?”

 

Squinting his eyes at him, Eren tries to remember. “I think a bit? I was pretty wasted when I read it though. Uh - oh! Yeah okay so, he definitely called Berthold his ‘Felsen in der Brandung’ once. Which, uhm I guess if you translate it word for word means something like ‘rock in a breaking of waves’ or something like that? I don’t know if there’s a similar figure of speech in English, but it describes someone who’s strong and resolute, someone you can rely on.”

 

Smirk growing evilly now, Jean walks over to the small notepad they keep in the kitchen to get groceries down. He then hands it to Eren together with a pen.

 

“Could you write that down?”

 

Nodding, Eren sets to work. “Let’s see if I can remember ten that are easily translated into English.”

 

“The next time we see these two we try to mention as much as possible without being found out.”

 

“Winner gets 50 bucks.” Eren finishes Jean’s train of thought, sadistic smirk matching Jean’s now.

 

***~***~***

 

Connie and Sasha are laughing their asses off. Sasha has already fallen off the couch, which has caused them to point at each other like the single minded brain cells they are and laugh even harder.

 

Jean really has the shittiest friends, huh?

 

“I hate both of you.” He grumbles and chucks more of his rum and coke down. He needs to slow down soon, though, as he can feel his vision already becoming a bit blurry and his head is all weird.

 

“You have no right to hate us, dude. I mean seriously ? A fucking … language kink? That has to be a new low.” Connie says as he wipes his tears out of his eyes. Sasha is still giggling on their carpet, but she seems on a good way to get herself sorted too.

 

Jean huffs and puts his empty glass on the coffee table before he lifts his fingers up to his temple and rubs it in circles.

 

“You don’t fucking understand, though - he is fucking … like, mind-blowingly hot when he’s talking in German, alright? I’m serious - and if you’d heard and seen what I did, you’d get it.” He whines , because he’s at his limit, okay? He has fucking wet dreams of a German-talking Eren now, with Eren sleeping right there next to him, snoring in a completely unsexy way and dreaming of probably the most trivial things.

 

“Jean, honey, I’m sorry to say this but you are absolutely biased when it comes to Eren. So no way this isn’t all in your head.” Sasha teases him even further and pokes Jean’s ankle with one of her toes.

 

“I am not - what’s that even supposed to mean, ‘I’m biased’?” Jean snarls, because that almost sounds as if he is some kind of lovey-dovey lovesick puppy for Eren, which he’s fucking not.

 

“Dude, you’ve always been absolutely obsessed with him!” Connie chimes in now, that backstabber.

 

“Yeah seriously, you might have been complaining about him all the time, but the subtext was always ‘Oh shit he’s so cool!’, ‘Damn, I wanna eat his ass!’, ‘Eren, please notice meee!’” Sasha pinches her voice unnecessarily high as he’s mocking him and she’s blowing his slight pinning way out of proportion.

 

“Oh my god yes - and do you remember the ugly, envious looks he would throw Reiner and Levi all of the time for getting into Eren’s pants?” Connie is looking at his girlfriend as he talks, acting as if Jean isn’t even in the room anymore.

 

“Oi, you two fuckers! Never have I ever been this much of a Jäger-simp!” Jean snaps, putting all his boiling anger into a tiny scowl.

 

“Jean, you've said you wanted to paint him on a canvas as big as that giant ass window front in your rich parent’s house. Because - and I quote - ‘that man is a fucking piece of art with eyes like the ocean and the skin of some middle eastern prince’. Tell me this doesn’t scream simp.”

 

Jean’s jaw falls open because - “I certainly have not said that!”

 

He kinda feels as if he had though. Even more so as Connie and Sasha scream: “Yes you have!” at the same time.

 

He jerks back as if he had opened the door to a hurricane causing havoc. No need to get so passionate about it.

 

“Whatever …” He then grumbles and pulls his feet up onto the armchair he has been sitting on, fully aware that it looks like he is pouting. Which he is not. It's just comfortable to sit like this.

 

“Aw, come on - Jean, my dude. No need to be sour about it. It all worked out for you in the end, huh? You’ve upgraded from simp to fuck-buddy and then boyfriend, so way to go champ!” Connie chirps, slapping his shoulder.

 

“Y-yeah, totally.” Jean says and leans forward to take his empty glass in order to take a big fake-sip, drunk enough to think that it would work as a diversion. Too dumb that glasses tend to be transparent.

 

“... Dude.” Jean can hear the pity in Connie’s voice and seriously, he hates it. Jean is fine with his relationship with Eren, really. He’s cool. This is all cool. “You still haven’t talked about it?”

 

“There is nothing to talk about, Connie. We sleep in the same bed every night, we have domestic and relaxed Sunday breakfasts, he continues to use my printer even though they despise each other. So we’re definitely more than fuckbuddies at this point.” (That’s what Jean tells himself whenever doubt strikes him, anyway.) “It’s just … we’re at a point where talking about it would be fucking weird because we missed the right moment, allright? It’s fine, just drop it.”

 

“But Jean-bo.” Sasha says and then she’s crawling over at him, putting her hands on his knee. “You’ll feel better when you know for sure-sure, okay? If you say that you’re basically boyfriends at this point, it shouldn’t be too difficult to have one awkward conversation that puts everything right.”

 

Jean rolls his eyes and flicks his finger against her forehead.

 

“Whatever, don’t act as if you’re the experts on relationships, just because you’re highschool sweethearts, you fucking heteros.”

 

“You say that so insultingly, but here it’s me who’s swallowing all those folic acid pills.” Sasha says mysteriously. For whatever reason, Connie chokes on his beer.

 

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

 

***~***~***

 

That’s it.

 

Connie and Sasha are sneaky little bastards. And Jean should terminate his friendship with them.

 

It was the day of Mikasa’s birthday and the evening began absolutely perfect. Upon arriving, Jean had felt confident and chill enough to give her a kiss on the cheek after hugging her and somehow, he hadn’t been struck by lightning or killed by her bare hands. 

 

For obvious reasons, he hadn’t let Eren kiss him for an hour after that - after all, coming into contact with the skin of a literal celestial being was something to be savored. (Also, after having been denied kisses for that long, Eren had cornered him in the bathroom and kissed the soul out of him while pressing him against the door. So really, Jean should do this more often.)

 

Now, though - oh boy.

 

“Hey Eren -” Connie starts after he and Sasha have been whispering and scheming and bumping each other in the ribs for ten minutes. “How come we’ve never heard you speak German?”

 

Wow. Smooth. Jean thinks and at the same time, he almost chokes on his coke because how dare they.

 

Next to him, Eren just lifts an eyebrow, having gone full-macho with his arm thrown over the headrest of the couch, right behind Jean’s head. “Well - that’s because you guys all speak English, so it would be pretty hard to communicate otherwise.”

 

“Yeah well - we heard Mikasa speak German!” Sasha tries to argue, which is a weak shot, because -

 

“Yes, because she was high on meds and forgot how English worked.”

 

“And - Bertl too!”

 

“ That was because he had to talk to a lost German kid in order to return him back to his parents. Is this one of those moments in which you’re gonna ask me to ‘say something in German’ and then stare at me as if I’m a monkey at the zoo while I have no idea what to say? Because that won’t be happening, sorry Sasha.”

 

Sasha and Connie share a look. And it would be kinda funny to watch two ailing brain cells trying to come up with something that could save their butchered plan at any other time - when Jean wasn’t sure his friends were hellbent on embarrassing him.

 

“You could sing !” Connie suddenly bursts out.

 

“Yes! Brilliant! You can sing so well too, Eren. You could uhm - sing Mikasa a Happy Birthday song.” Sasha helps her boyfriend out, almost falling off the couch with how far she is sitting on the edge in her excitement.

 

“I don’t know one in German to be honest. It was ‘Happy Birthday to you’ in Germany as well. At least where-ever I went.”

 

“Then - uhm - Oh! A love song! You could sing Jean a love song, how about that?!” Sasha tries again, grinning directly at Jean now.

 

Low blow, Sasha. Low fucking blow.

 

But what’s even lower is Eren fucking gagging . But that's fine, Jean doesn't want to be serenaded with a stupid love song anyway.

 

“Ew no, absolutely not. German love songs are fucking cringy and awful and - just no. But well, I guess I could sing something if that makes you happy. I sure as hell won’t do it alone, though.” He then takes a last sip of his drink - one of those weird mixes of cider and coke they do in Germany - purely for dramatic effect, puts his glass onto the table and, when he sits back up, he smacks his hand onto Reiner’s thigh. “Reiner.”

 

“No.”

 

“ Yes .” Jumping up, he fishes his phone out of his back pocket. The last thing Jean can see is him opening Spotify. “Komm schon, Reinerlein, lass’ mich hier nicht so hängen.” “Come on, Reiner-dear, don’t leave me hanging.”

 

And shit, this comes as a surprise. Jean feels like an addict finally getting another dosage after a long time of abstinence as hearing that chases a cold shiver down his spine.

 

He hates Connie and Sasha with passion. And he can feel their eyes on him, but he refuses to give them the satisfaction to react. So he doesn’t look over at them, feigning indifference by keeping up the perfect poker face.

 

“Eren, ich kann nicht mal singen.” “Eren, I can’t even sing.” Reiner tries to argue, but Eren just dismissively waves his hand at him.

 

“Dafür musst du auch nicht singen können, versprochen.” “You don’t need to be able to sing for this one, I promise.” Mikasa’s bluetooth speaker makes all kinds of weird noises as Eren connects his phone. He then plays a song, just for a few seconds to let the introducing beat fill the room before he grins at Reiner. “Komm schon, Reiner. Ich weiß noch genau, wie sehr du dieses Lied in der Zehnten gefeiert hast. Ich wette du kennst noch den gesamten Text.” “Come on, Reiner. I know exactly how much you loved that song in tenth grade. I bet you still know the entire lyrics.”

 

Reiner and Eren stare at each other for a solid twenty seconds before Reiner heaves a heavy sigh and stands up.

 

“Ich singe den Refrain. Und sonst nichts.”

“I’m going to sing the refrain. And nothing else.”

 

“Abgemacht.” “Deal.” Eren smirks after having clearly won and then hands Reiner one of the remotes lying around while keeping a second one to himself.

 

Reiner stares at the device with distaste.

 

“Ernsthaft?” 

“Seriously?”

 

“Aber hallo, wenn schon denn schon.” “Hell yeah, if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.” Eren argues and starts the song again. “Ist doch cool, wenn ich dich teilweise ein bisschen als Requisite missbrauche, oder?” “It’s cool if I’m gonna use you as a prop here and then, isn’t it?” He then asks, smirking over to Reiner as he flips the remote in the air without really paying attention, still catching it in the end. How, Jean has no idea.

 

Reiner rolls his eyes and says: “Wirst es ja sowieso tun, oder?” 

“You’ll do it no matter what I say anyway, won’t you?”

 

To that, Eren just winks at Reiner and begins to sing just in time with the subdued voice of the original musician.

 

Or well, Jean has to say that it probably doesn’t quite count as singing . It is more of a rap-kind-of talking. But that doesn’t really matter, he guesses, because Eren talking boded even worse for him than him singing.

 

Especially because Eren is a fucking drama queen and probably some stage-celebrity in another reality. Jean had to experience that first hand during high school, where Eren has been the lead singer of their school band, always giving it his all during performances.

 

So now, him talking in that different, thrilling language that made everything sound just a bit sharper, just a bit bolder - it was mixed with him moving , making facial expressions like he meant everything he said and kind of well - flirting with Reiner from time to time, completely in character of the song’s lyrical self.

 

Which was fine. It was all fine. Jean pulling his knee up and hugging it and him biting down on his forefinger until it fucking stung was all just because -

 

Fuck.

 

Letting go of his finger and rubbing the imprint his teeth have left, Jean side-eyes Berthold on his left in the hopes of seeing him have some kind of reaction to his boyfriend singing. Because Jean has to admit - German-Reiner is kind of badass too, voice rough and baritone almost as much as the original he can make out when he really concentrates.

 

It is of no use though. Because all Berhold does is tapping his foot to the rhythm and snorting when Eren shortly cards his hand through Reiner’s hair.

 

God fucking damn it.

 

Suppressing a groan, Jean presses his mouth against his pulled up knee and stares straight ahead as his body has gone rigid.

 

“Are you alright, Jean?” Armin asks, because of course he would notice that something was up.

 

“Peachy.” Jean hisses and straightens his spine again.

 

At least it can’t get worse than that, right?

 

After Eren is done - after he has bowed while holding Reiner’s hand as if they were actors in some theater when everyone has been clapping - he sits down next to Jean again, body warm and solid and slightly heaving with breaths deeper than normally. Completely oblivious to Jean’s inner turmoil - that primal little thing inside him that wants to ravish Eren right here and now - he animatedly starts talking to Armin, for which he has to look around Jean.

 

“Sorry, dude, can I just -” 

 

Without waiting for Jean’s reply, Eren puts an arm around Jean’s shoulders and then rests his chin on his still pulled up knee.

 

Normally, Jean would soak that shit up. Because he is a sucker for physical touch just like Eren is - which, come to think of it (even though Jean would prefer not too) is probably one of the main reasons why up to this day, Jean holds the record to have been with Eren the longest, even exceeding his kind-of relationship with Reiner which had gone for about three years and had even survived one year of long distance before the Braun family had also immigrated from Germany to America.

 

On the table in front of him, Jean’s phone lights up for a moment, showing a short text message from Connie that simply says: “Biased.”

 

Jean glares over at Connie and Sasha who are both giggling.

 

He hates those guys.

 

***~***~***

 

Now, maybe Jean could have survived the evening in the end - once that whole ordeal had calmed down.

 

If Eren getting Reiner drunk enough to do another song with him wouldn’t have happened. Because in the end, Jean is only human, okay? So Eren singing some sort of German Rap song about masturbation, making vulgar gestures and fucking sitting on Jean’s lap, touching him was just a bit too much. Doesn’t matter that it had only been for a few lines. (Never in his life had Jean put a cushion to his crotch faster than at the moment Eren had jumped up again. Thankfully, everyone was too focused on filming the whole thing to notice.)

 

So really, you can’t blame Jean for basically breathing down Eren’s neck as he opens the door to their apartment.

 

In front of him, Eren slightly turns his head and looks back at Jean. He can’t really make out his facial expression, but it’s safe to say that Eren is doubting his sanity right now.

 

Which is fine, Jean guesses. He’ll be embarrassed about it in the morning too - and he isn’t even drunk, as he had been their designated driver. Irony is that, with all of Jean’s pent up energy, Eren probably would have been the better choice to navigate the car through the dark streets, despite all the stuff that’s in his bloodstream right now.

 

Finally, the lock clicks and Eren pushes the door open. Jean feels like a dog receiving the release call to go get their food as he shoves Eren forward until he can kick the door closed.

 

“Dude, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” Eren complains, but there is no real heat or annoyance behind it - this is a not too uncommon situation for them after all. God, sometimes Jean can’t believe he has found someone who’s as dysfunctional as him, he really lov- ehem …

 

Something inside their cabinet rattles as Jean crowds Eren against it.

 

“Shut up.” Is all he says before grabbing Eren by the collar with both hands and smashes their mouth together. Eren grunts against him at first and Jean feels kind of bad as he realizes he probably didn’t have to bite him that hard that fast. But luckily, Eren’s competitive nature kicks in and he starts to bore his teeth into Jean’s lips with the same vigor until Jean sees stars.

 

Moaning quietly into Eren’s mouth, Jean shifts slightly to push his leg between Eren’s, rubbing his thigh against Eren’s dick as he pressures his weight even more against him, making Eren bent his spine backwards over the top of the cabinet. To keep them in balance, Jean puts one of his hands flat onto the even surface of the cabinet with a loud slap that disturbs even more of its content.

 

“Holy fuck, Jean.” He hears Eren mumble before his hands fly up to grab Jean’s jacket, clutching it as if he would fall otherwise - which is physically impossible with how neatly they are pressed together. Eren could lose contact to the ground right now and he would simply keep hanging in the air, wedged between Jean and the cabinet.

 

Jean feels his heartbeat everywhere in his body, his skin is hot all over, burning where Eren is grabbing him and where his ragged breath hits Jean’s face and mouth from time to time and shit .

 

Pulling away from Eren feels like it inflicts bodily pain, but Jean has a plan and it certainly doesn’t involve coming in his pants not even five feet away from the door.

 

Eren is panting as he looks up at him, his bun almost completely fallen apart and there is a determination in his turquoise eyes that still manages to make Jean’s legs weak.

 

“Bedroom.” Eren then says and starts to tear Jean’s jacket off of him. 

 

Which is exactly what Jean has meant to say. Nodding, Jean returns the favor of easing Eren out of his jacket, tossing it on the ground right on top of his as soon as he is done.

 

“Shoes, Jean.”

 

“Yes, fine , you freak!” Jean hisses and struggles out of his shoes, hopping on the same spot like an idiot for the second one before he grabs Eren’s hand and tugs him through their apartment.

 

Manhandling Eren is kind of easy whenever the dude lets it happen so it isn’t difficult to throw him onto the bed and pull his jeans and boxers down. The buckle of his belt hits the back of Jean’s hand in his haste, but he almost doesn’t feel it when the metal collides with his bones in a somewhat hollow sound.

 

He doesn’t waste his time on Eren’s socks, but because Eren is a freak, he pulls them off himself whilst Jean is preoccupied with his own clothes from the waist down. Completely ignoring his shirt, Jean then straddles Eren’s hips, to which Eren lifts his eyebrows and rests his hands on Jean’s thighs.

 

“Are you seriously too desperate for - mphf.”

 

“Shut up.” Jean says again, one hand pressed over Eren’s mouth. The asshole tries to ward him off by licking, but this is really a cheap trick Jean doesn’t even grace with a change of his facial expression.

 

Instead, he replaces his hand with his mouth, showing the other that he can use his tongue just as well by stuffing it down Eren’s throat.

 

Eren moans quietly and his fingertips dig into the flesh of Jean’s thighs. And yeah, this is better, Jean thinks light headedly as he starts to hump Eren’s erection until his own breath keeps getting stuck in his throat and the man beneath him keeps making these beautiful, deep noises and bucks his hips up from time to time.

 

But it still isn’t quite enough. Leaving Eren’s warm, spit-slicked lips for now, Jean reaches over to the bedside table, ripping open the second drawer with so much force the disturbance almost knocks off the small LED on top of it.

 

He doesn’t comment and surprisingly, neither does Eren as he quickly pulls out a condom and lube, definitely not bothering to close the drawer again.

 

Jean then rips the condom’s package open with his teeth just because he can and rolls it over Eren’s dick, which elicits a confused noise out of him.

 

“Wait, I’ll be -? F-fuck .” He breaks off as Jean tightly grabs his dick with a lubed hand, mainly so he can shut Eren the fuck up. Because whenever the guy talks, he messes up with the mental image Jean has of him singing this stupid rap song which’s lyrics probably are in some way misogynoistic, definitely shallow and all in all just stupid.

 

Jean should really be ashamed of himself.

 

Anyway.

 

Bending down to kiss Eren again, Jean reaches behind himself and - because he doesn’t just fuck around - immediately goes for working two fingers inside himself. (His lips still grow tight in discomfort for a moment and he fists the sheets until they crumble around his fingers.)

 

Eren’s hands brush up and down Jean’s thighs as he patiently swallows all the whines Jean can’t help but make and they toughen their grip again when Jean finds his prostate and his legs quiver dangerously for a second.

 

(And Jean will never admit it, but this quiver of muscles has also been due to the crystal clear memory of Eren sitting on his legs, turning Jean’s face away from him with a heartfelt “Baby bitte , pack’ deine Muschi weg, ich will kein’ Sex. Damit ich nicht schwanger werde, fress’ ich dir die Pille weg!” Whatever that meant. But it had the words baby and sex in it, this much Jean was sure of. So it was hopefully something hot.) [It means: “Baby, please , put away your cunt, I don’t wanna have sex. And so that I won’t get pregnant, I’ll eat your contraception pills.”]

 

Once Jean has caught himself again, one of Eren’s hands wanders further up on Jean’s leg until two of his fingers slip between Jean’s cheek, brushing Jean’s own.

 

It’s something Eren has done hundreds of times and he still gasps quietly as he gently nudges Jean’s rim, which is almost adorable.

 

With a pointed suck to Eren’s lip, Jean moves his hand until there is room for one of Eren’s fingers to slip in along with Jean’s two.

 

The additional stretch, together with the feeling of something foreign he can’t control inside him causes Jean to thrust his hips back against it. 

 

Eren’s other hand clenches around the juncture of Jean’s hip now with an almost bruising force and he breaks the kiss to lick and nib at Jean’s chin until Jean complies and pulls his own fingers out, which are quickly replaced with three of Eren’s own.

 

He also goes straight to the point, fucking Jean’s hole with quick movements that have him mewl and hide his face in the crook of Eren’s neck as he claws at the pillow beneath Eren’s head, canting his hips for better access.

 

“Fuck Jean, you really are the hottest son of a bitch I’ve ever seen.” Eren growls and bites Jean’s shoulder, the sharp sting makes Jean twitch.

 

“Sh- shaddup - oh shiiit !” Jean sobs when Eren’s fingertips curl around his prostate, the friction sending a tingling sensation up into Jean’s belly.

 

Three times more and Jean’s head is fuzzy and empty, he is panting into Eren’s neck and he knows this won’t take too much longer. Which isn’t that surprising in the first place, considering the fact that Jean had entered the whole thing standing on the edge of the cliff made out of brittle stone.

 

“ More. ” He whines as he listens to the wet squelching sounds Eren’s fingers produce. A sound that would make his ears turn hot at any other time of the day. Right now though, he just lets out a loud, thoughtless moan and presses their erection together again.

 

Eren groans as if Jean punched him in the gut and then turns them around in one swift movement that has Jean dizzy for a moment.

 

Bleary eyed, he looks up at Eren, who kneels between his spread legs and shrugs his shirt off because again, he is a freak who despises any sort of restriction during sex. But Jean won’t complain, because like this, he can see his rippled eight-pack and the whole expanse of his beautiful bronze skin and shit , Jean thinks as he licks his lips, he really does want to draw him on a giant canvas. Maybe he is biased.

 

“You feeling stretched enough?” Eren asks as he pumps his dick a few times, reapplying more lube.

 

“Just shut up and fuck me, asshole.” Jean bites out.

 

“ Why are you so set on -” 

 

With an annoyed, gruff noise, Jean links his legs around Eren’s waist and pulls, which causes him to fall on top of him.

 

“Fine then, desperate little shit.”

 

Whole body lightening up in anticipation, Jean grips the blankets next to him as Eren’s hands, feeling hot like branding irons, hold onto his hips.

 

Jean heaves out little breaths of hah whereas Eren’s chest rumbles with a series of moans as he pushes in.

 

“Fuck, Jean, you feel so good, shit .”

 

He has no time to reprimand Eren again for talking when he immediately goes on to pulling out and pushing in repeatedly. 

 

With a curse, Jean’s body begins to move on instinct as much as it is able, trying to meet Eren’s hips on the perfect rhythm and head tilting back whenever the smooth glide of Eren’s dick against his walls is just a bit too good.

 

And in an obscure haze of losing control of his body, his hands cramping around the sheets and the orchestra of moans they both produced, a tight ball of lightning storm begins to build and build and build inside Jean to a point where he thinks he might cry.

 

His legs tighten around Eren’s body, which apparently spurs Eren on to drive into Jean even harder until the bed begins to creek like in a bad porno thanks to a quite cheap slatted frame. 

 

But Jean is too far gone to care about such cheesiness. Eren clearly feels the same because his movements don’t waver, he doesn’t stop to giggle and make a comment, he simply lets go of one side of Jean’s hips to stabilize himself by grabbing the headboard. He has to scoot up on the bed for that and effortlessly pulls Jean up with him. The friction between his naked, heated and sensitive skin and the blankets make Jean hiss, which is quickly replaced by small screams he can’t quite push down, not with basically being bent in half and Eren fucking relentlessly into him.

 

“Shit, don't stop please, don't -!” He begins to babble and lets go of the blankets with one hand to touch himself, the additional stimuli causing him to fall even deeper. Deeper into the feeling of Eren above him, the obscure sensation of having a strong, panting body hovering above him and those memories of Eren -

 

A rough hand cupping Jean’s face pulls him back into the present, just as Eren’s tongue licking over his ear makes him turn his head until he is panting into the pillow.

 

“God, you’re so fucking hot, Jean.” Eren purrs right into his ear before giving it a heartfelt bite.

 

Jesus Christ, would this guy ever -

 

“Sh- shut - ah! ” It almost seems like Eren is the one trying to shut Jean up about telling Eren to shut up now, because really, he didn’t need to hit Jean’s prostate that well.

 

“Fuck, you always feel so fucking good around my dick. Doesn’t matter if it’s your ass, your hands or shit , your fucking thighs, Jean, they really should be illegal.” Eren moans and puts a hand back to grab onto one of Jean’s thighs, fingertips plunging into the flesh so hard it makes Jean yelp. “And let’s not forget about this pretty little mouth of yours, huh?” Eren just goes on, hand now going up to his face again, where he grabs Jean’s chin and nudges his thumb in between his teeth.

 

Attempting to frown even though his heart isn’t really into it as it is way too busy to break another world record, Jean mumbles another shut up , completely unrecognizable due to Eren holding his bottom jaw in place.

 

“Can you come for me, pretty boy?” And wow, Eren really is shitty at doing what he is told to do, huh?

 

Jean wants to let out a frustrated groan because well, that little fantasy in his head is ruined at this point, but all that comes out is another earnest moan, since his body doesn’t really understand why it is supposed to be upset when really, he feels as if he is in heaven right now.

 

Eren pulls his thumb out of Jean’s mouth to drag it over his cheek, wetting it with his own saliva before he comes down to kiss him wet and sloppy. With a clumsy tongue of his own, Jean answers the kiss, sending little whines down Eren’s throat with every passing second.

 

He is surprised when he suddenly feels Eren’s hand nudging the one around his dick, but he gladly makes room for it so he can dig his fingers into Eren’s brilliant hair again which, admittedly, is a bit sweaty and greasy, but whatever, he doesn’t really want to care about such irrelevancies.

 

With a disgusting, wet sound, Eren pulls back from the kiss just enough that he can lick over Jean’s lips in one smooth, circular motion which is perfectly timed with him smearing a new bead of precome over the tip of Jean’s dick.

 

And this is apparently all that it takes for Jean to come with a wordless shout and a violent, involuntary twitch of his body that somehow pulls Eren even further in, making him hiss.

 

He isn’t too far behind after that. The movements of his hips turn erratic and then, Jean can feel him fill the condom with his come as well as he can feel the muscles in his lower back twitch.

 

Feeling like he’s been run over by a truck, Jean pulls his shivering legs off Eren and lets them fall onto the mattress as he just lies there, panting and eyes closed for now.

 

He can feel Eren’s breath on his face and then, there are soft kisses against his cheek as Eren pulls out. After that, a hand rests against Jean’s cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone as the lips resume to kiss his eyebrows and then up his forehead.

 

It’s peaceful for a moment and when Eren takes a breath to talk, part of Jean expects Eren to say something sappy, but …

 

“Wake up and sit up for a second, would you?”

 

“Seriously? Why, dude? You're killing my afterglow.” Jean grumbles and blinks his eyes open.

 

“Don’t be such an ass - it’s only for your benefit, I want to help you out of that cum-stained shirt of yours.” Eren grumbles right back. It is only then that Jean really registers the cooling half-liquid on his stomach and yeah okay, that feels kind of disgusting.

 

“Oh.”

 

“ Oh , he says.” Eren says mockingly and pulls Jean into a sitting position. “Come on, arms up, big guy.” He then continues, even more mockingly in the same tone he uses on his toddlers at the kindergarten he works at.

 

“I hate you.” Jean grounds out but he complies anyway, because truth be told, he feels like a newborn foal right now, so it is probably for the best that he accepts the help. He is already quite lucky that Mr. "I’m a purebred asshole" Eren actually turns out to be quite the gentleman after sex. Which means that he not only gets Jean out of his soiled shirt, but he also gets up to put it into the wash and returns with a warm washcloth to get Jean’s middle region clean. The first times he had done so, Jean had always turned red as a tomato and ripped the cloth out of Eren’s hands to do it himself, but now he just appreciates not having to move, only lying there with his eyes closed and listening to Eren -

 

“Dude … Are you seriously eating something right now? As you’re wiping sperm off my body?” Jean asks in disbelief, opening his eyes just enough to see that Eren is actually shoving M&Ms in his mouth while his other hand diligently cleans Jean’s dick.

 

“Hmm? Yeah, why? You want some?” Eren looks at him with those big, blueish eyes almost innocently.

 

“What the actual - you know what? Sure, why not.” Jean huffs, accepting that this is his life now apparently and opens his mouth. The sound of two sets of teeth crunching down on a thick layer of chocolate surrounding a peanut fills the room for a few moments until Eren puts the bag on the bedside table and flops down on the bed again. 

 

Eren annoyingly loudly cluck’s his tongue as he tries to get the excess pieces of peanut sticking to his molars and Jean turns around to give him a piece of his mind on that, but ends up just resting his head on Eren’s chest and throwing his arm around his waist.

 

“Soooo -” Eren begins and breaks the previously mentioned excess pieces of peanut with his canines before swallowing - gross. “You know, if I didn't know better, I would almost think you’ve imagined someone else just now with how often you’ve told me to shut up.”

 

Oh shit. So they were talking about this now, huh?

 

“I - Don’t be ridiculous.” Jean mutters and traces Eren’s ribs with his finger.

 

“Okay, so what - are you getting annoyed by my voice or something?” Eren asks and fakes a laugh.

 

“That’s - no … It’s just … Whatever.” Jean babbles, not really cutting to the point as he suddenly feels a bit nervous and double as stupid.

 

Eren misses a breath and when he speaks again, he suddenly seems a bit nervous too. “Uhm … You know, I wasn’t thinking so much of it at first but now you’re just being really weird, Jean.”

 

And okay, this is even more ridiculous. It isn’t this much of a deal, he can tell him - again: this wouldn’t be the weirdest thing they have done together, god damnit. Jean decides to put an end to it. 

 

Lifting his head from Eren’s chest, he says: “It’s nothing bad, really. It’s just … something I’m a bit embarrassed about, I guess.”

 

... Which is not putting an end to this.

 

“Dude, I’ve seen you cry snot and tears because you ran over a fucking dove. I’m sure this is noth-”

 

“Could you speak German next time we fuck?” Jean pushes out, quick and blunt like ripping off a band-aid.

 

“Wh- wh- heh ? You - you mean you want me to do dirty talk … but in … in German?” 

 

“Well I guess - would be kind of weird if you’re just reciting a recipe or something while you fuck me.” Jean mumbles and he really is just talking to the half empty bag of M&Ms, hoping that the flush of his face can still count as post-orgasmic blood circulation.

 

“You … like … seriously ?”

 

They are quiet for a few seconds and then Eren is clearing his throat. “Okay, uhm - I’m really sorry, Jean, but this is so not happening.”

 

Uh - what now?

 

You see, Jean has predicted all sorts of teasing, of laughing, of stupid and tacky jokes. But never would he have foreseen Eren downright refusing .

 

With a frown, he looks away from the yellow bag and stares down at Eren.

 

“What?”

 

“You heard me.”

 

“Oh - okay great, so I have to live with your stupid and reckless exhibitionism kink, but when -”

 

“Okay, whoa - hold on now - I do not have an exhibitionism kink!” Eren barks out, but he cannot fool Jean because a - Jean isn’t an idiot and b - Eren’s ears are red.

 

With a huff, Jean sits up and holds up a fist to put a finger up for each thing he lists as he says: “The drive-in cinema. That fucking perch on our hike with people on the track next to it . That one time we got stuck on a ferris wheel for twenty minutes. But my personal favorite: The janitor’s closet - at that art gallery opening - where my paintings were on display. I had to talk to people - important people - there, Eren.”

 

“Yeah so? You were nervous as fuck before and then you were not and you handled all those important people like a total badass, so you’re welcome.”

 

And even though Eren has some kind of a point, even though maybe - just maybe - Jean isn’t that opposed to public sex with Eren from time to time - he of course can’t just let it be.

 

“That’s -”

 

“Jean, listen -” Eren interrupts him and sits up too. “This isn’t me refusing to get out of my comfort zone or something, alright? I’m just trying to save you from what probably would be the worst sex you’ve ever had. Remember that time Armin invited us to that frat party at his college? When I went down on you on some random bed and they started playing that video of Kermit the Frog singing Never gonna give you up really loudly and we had to pause because we had to laugh so damn much? Remember how awkward that was?”

 

Eren looks at Jean expectantly and he manages to nod even though he is a bit caught up on the fact that Eren apparently has labeled this shared memory as "awkward, bad sex with Jean" in his own head. Jean himself thinks of that time quite fondly, because lying naked on that bed with Eren and laughing until their stomachs hurt and tears wetted their cheeks had made him feel all kinds of things. And they still had managed to get off afterwards, so it certainly doesn’t count as “bad sex” for him. Yeah sure, there had still been giggling and smirking - but there had also been quiet kisses and gentle touching and for some reason, this had been the moment where Jean had finally been confident that he was just a bit more to Eren than “Dude he pretended to hate in high school but still passed funny notes with during boring classes to friend to roommate because we’re both broke to you know what, we are obviously thirsting for one another so lets fuck from time to time to actually you know what, no one else really does it for me, so lets become somewhat exclusive.”

 

“Yeah well, It would be like that. Constantly. Because believe me when I say that German dirty talk is the definition of cringe and I wouldn’t make it without breaking character every five minutes.”

 

“Dude, are you kidding me right now? Normally, you say the nastiest things without even so much as blushing. You’d just be saying everything you normally say, it’s just different vocabulary!”

 

“No, Jean. Just no. It just … It’s different in German, all right? Not sexy at all.” Eren doesn’t waver and well, Jean knows him. So he knows that the conviction he sees in Eren’s entire posture right now is something he cannot fight.

 

“Fine.” Jean grouches out, just a little bit huffy, and jumps out of the bed with a quiet: “Gonna brush my teeth.”

 

He just finished flossing and is just about to wet his toothbrush when Eren enters the bathroom behind him to tentatively hug Jean from behind, which Jean quickly recognizes as Eren checking in if they were still okay in his own, asshole-y and emotionally constipated way.

 

Now, Jean is a big boy, alright? And this is nothing that’s worth being genuinely mad about, so he simply puts his hand onto the arms crossed around his stomach. Eren noticeably relaxes and hugs him tighter.

 

And really, this is gonna be fine, Jean supposes. This will probably cool down on itself anyway. Zeke is far away again, Connie and Sasha had their fun, so there probably won’t be any more occurrences of Eren talking German.

 

So in the end, this kink of Jean’s will ebb down and one day, he’ll be able to look back and accept that all of this had just been a phase.

 

Like him liking boys has just been a phase.

 

Oh wait.

 

***~***~***

 

In the end, it isn’t Jean’s fault, okay?

 

He has tried really hard to let it be. And after almost a month without another incident, Jean’s almost forgotten about it … No seriously, he has. Totally, yeah …

 

Now, it’s a slow Tuesday and Jean’s plan is to get home and grab a quick, healthy lunch before returning back to his small shitty atelier a few blocks away. (He loves it with every fiber of his being.) 

 

There is a smudge of blue paint drying up on his cheek and after he has scratched the back of his neck earlier, the skin there is now dirtied with coal which he doesn’t know of.

 

All in all, he is feeling pretty damn amazing.

 

Humming to the music coming through his headphones, he makes his way over to the kitchen, which also leads him to their bedroom. The door is wide open, giving a perfect view to Eren sitting on their shared desk, in front of his computer. Given the time, Jean is kind of surprised that he is already back home, so he stops in his tracks and pulls his headphones off.

 

“Jo, Ere-”

 

“Du sollst drucken , Junge! Ist das denn so schwer?”

“You’re supposed to print , dude! Is it really that difficult?”

 

Oh dear lord, no .

 

And Jean knows it’s pathetic, but he has to grab the door frame for support. Why does God hate him so much?

 

“Alter! Eben hast du mir noch gesagt dass du überhaupt kein Papier hast, was soll das denn jetzt?!” “Dude! Right now you said that there isn’t even any paper, so what is this all about now?” Eren barks out, gets up and walks over to their printer (or well, Jean’s printer, he’s bought it and it's fancy because it’s a laser printer. Eren hates it.) Standing in front of it now, Eren opens the main cover before exploding once again. “Willst du mich eigentlich komplett verarschen, du dummes Scheißteil, da ist kein Papierstau!” “Are you fucking kidding me, you stupid piece of shit, there isn’t any paper yam!”

 

The hand holding onto the cords of his headphones go a bit clammy as Jean watches how Eren pulls at his hair in frustration and goes back to his laptop. Jean swallows against his dry mouth and with how heavy his heart is beating, it feels as if he is swallowing it back down again too after it has climbed up to his throat.

 

Oh, this is bad, this is really bad. He should go to the kitchen and into safety, asap. Or better yet, he should go take a really cold shower.

 

“Digga, ich krieg hier gleich nen Föhn, du sollst doch nur diese paar Seiten ausdrucken, bitte!” “Bro, I’m gonna loose my fucking mind right now, you’re just supposed to print those few pages, please!” Eren spits out, still standing upright as he braces himself on the table with hunched shoulders, furiously clicking away on his mouse. Then, he gives a frustrated shout and throws himself onto the chair again, pulling his phone out as he is muttering away, voice pitched differently as if he is imitating someone in a mean way. “Glaub mir, Eren, der Drucker ist viel besser als dein alter, und überhaupt, so ein Laser-Ding lohnt sich viel m - aaaah!” “Believe me Eren, this printer is way better than your old one and a laser-printer pays off way m - aaaah!”

 

During his little rampage, Eren has slowly turned around with the chair and, at seeing Jean looming in the doorway, he gets so startled that he almost drops his phone and lets out an unmanly scream.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jean, you scared the living shit out of me!”

 

“B-bad conscience?” Jean tries to be cool but fails ultimately as he has to gulp, which leads to him stuttering. Eren gives him a tiny little frown but doesn’t mention it further.

 

“It’s good that you’re here though, just wanted to call you. Your stupid shitty printer is being an asshole as usual.”

 

Clearing his throat, Jean bravely soldiers further into the room until he is standing right in front of his beloved electronic device.

 

Then he turns it off. Waits. Turns it on again.

 

“Let me?” He asks, not meeting Eren’s eyes. Eren hums and stands up so Jean can sit. He continues looming behind him, looking over his shoulder. Jean doesn’t know how he’s supposed to survive this. With a shaking hand, he moves the cursor around the screen. “This one?”

 

“Hmmm - all ten pages.” Eren confirms, deep voice sending shivers down Jean’s spine. Shit, shit, shit, shitshitfuckshitshit -

 

He’s having difficulty breathing now, as Eren’s breath rhythmically brushes his ear and oh dear lord, Jean is fucking hard in his pants and he hates himself, because all the while, he is staring at butterflies with faces and unicorns dancing over the titles of fucking songs for small children that Eren probably plans to teach those little brats at work.

 

And there is no way that Eren doesn’t know.

 

Next to them, the printer is making all kinds of weird noises. And then it prints.

 

Eren doesn’t react. Normally, he would make a comment about how it was so unfair that the thing only listened to Jean. Or he would insult the thing one more time and then leave the room to sulk.

 

Instead, he lifts his arm and points to another window on his browser.

 

“Das hier auch noch.”

 

Jean sucks in a sharp breath and is unable to react for a moment. Behind him, Eren is unusually patient, clearly trying to gauge the situation.

 

“Th-this one too you mean?” Jean whispers, hating how weak he sounds as he clicks on it. It looks like a short story about three pigs escaping their pen to go on some oh-so-beautiful adventure.

 

Eren humms again. Jean presses print.

 

“Danke dir.” “Thank you.” Eren murmurs and lets his hand fall onto the tabletop, near the laptop’s keyboard. Jean is convinced that he is this close to going into cardiac arrest when Eren then tilts his head to give Jean a fleeting kiss on the cheek.

 

It makes Jean gasp and then blush - oh how far he has sunken.

 

Blowing out a heavy exhale, Eren stands up and lets his hand fall onto Jean’s waist as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. And with one calculated nudge, Jean is turned around along with the chair, stopped only by Eren ramming his leg between Jean’s knees as he bends over, holding onto the desk and staring down at Jean, gnawing on his bottom lip as he is apparently deeply contemplating something.

 

Gulping, Jean stares back, fingers cramping around the armrests.

 

Then, Eren sighs and momentarily lets his head drop as if he’s just given up on everything that was holy to him.

 

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

 

Jean kinda hopes this is what he thinks it is, but he can’t quite be sure with what little information he is being offered.

 

“You’ll … do it. Uhm … What is ‘it’ again, exactly?”

 

Eren looks up again, giving Jean a dirty look. “You know what I’m saying.” Which is a stupid answer, really. But before Jean has the opportunity to make Eren aware of that with a good bit of meticulous nagging, Eren stands up to his full height and points over to their shared bed. Tilting his head just slightly towards it too, he says: “Aufs Bett mit dir.” “Get on the bed.”

 

Jean swallows down a shaky curse as a violent shiver ripples over his shoulders and back. His legs feel dangerously feeble as he walks over, feeling Eren’s piercing glance between his shoulder blades all the way.

 

It’s only when Jean has sat down on the mattress that Eren moves again. Hair tie between his teeth as his hands work on pulling his hair together, he stalks up towards Jean until he is settled between his legs.

 

“Nur damit du’s weißt - das würde ich nicht für jeden tun, also fühl dich verdammt nochmal geehrt.” “Just that you know - I wouldn’t do this for anyone so you’d better feel honored.” He then tells Jean, a frown on his face as if he expects Jean to understand what the hell he is saying. But whatever, it still works for Jean to a point where he has to bite his lip and his eyes seem to be glued to Eren’s face. Something about this does things to Eren too. Jean can tell by the way he gulps and his face softens by a fraction as he straddles Jean’s lap and takes his head into his hands, fingers scratching through the shorter hair of his undercut. “Verdammter Bastard, warum kann ich zu dir nicht Nein sagen?” "You damn bastard, why can't I ever say 'No' to you?"

 

Keeping up their intense eye contact, Eren starts rolling his hips against Jean’s crotch. With a hiss between clenched teeth, Jean lets his hands fly to Eren’s waist, where he immediately goes for sneaking his fingers beneath Eren’s shirt.

 

Eren hums at that and reaches down to encircle Jean’s wrist with his hand, thumb pressing against his pulsepoint. “Gut so, f-fass’ mich an, Baby. Gott, das hört sich alles so falsch an …” "Yeah, that's it, touch me, baby. God, this all sounds so wrong …." Jean can see Eren blushing violently before he breaks the eye contact to lap at Jean’s neck, clearly trying and sadly succeeding in distracting Jean of that fact. Letting out a broken moan, Jean lets his head fall to the side, skin burning everywhere Eren’s tongue slickens it.

 

“Fuck, du hörst dich jedes mal an wie irgend ein Typ in nem Porno, Jean.” "Fuck, you always sound like some guy in a porn, Jean." Eren’s voice seems surer this time and the pointed bite he delivers into Jean’s shoulder also is one of confidence. “Vielleicht sollten wir irgendwann mal einen drehen, huh?” "Maybe we should make one ourselves someday, huh?" There is a sultry quality in his words now and Jean knows he is smirking right now.

 

Whispering Eren’s name around a shaky breath, Jean tightens his grip around Eren’s waist, hard muscles resisting in the most attractive way. It makes Eren gasp quietly and as if encouraged, the rolling of his hips grows more fierce. Coming out of his hiding place too, Eren hooks his arm around Jean’s neck and arches his back, bringing their chests closer together.

 

“Nicht dass ich das irgend jemanden sehen lassen würde.” "Not that I'd ever let anyone watch it." He then continues and with his hand still around Jean’s wrist, he guides Jean’s hand to the skin under his belly button and then even further down beyond his waistband. Jean doesn’t waste the opportunity to scratch the thick black hair of Eren’s happy trail, which doesn’t fail to make Eren shudder and lick his lips.

 

“Am Ende kommt noch jemand auf die Idee, dich ficken zu wollen - oh shit .” "In the end, someone might get the idea to wanna fuck you." Jean puts his fingers around Eren’s half-hard cock, to which Eren’s eyes flutter closed and he lets their foreheads fall together, hot breath hitting Jean’s lips in an uneven rhythm. The only thing keeping Jean from smashing their lips together right there and now is Eren repeatedly gulping and wetting his lips, trying to gather himself for a few more sentences. “Ich - ich meine, ich könnte es ja verstehen und so. Du siehst einfach immer so verdammt gut unter mir aus, ein echter - fuck - ein echter wahr gewordener, feuchter Traum.” I - I mean, I could understand it and all that. You always just look so god damn good beneath me, like a - fuck - like a wet dream come true."

 

Jean hasn’t got a fucking clue what Eren is blabbering about. All he knows is that even though Eren is basically whispering, his voice seems as loud as demanding as if he was screaming and there is something akin to possessiveness coloring his voice, or maybe that is just the hand with an iron hold on the back of Jean’s neck.

 

Everything about this is poking a part of Jean he usually is too proud to acknowledge. This part is also responsible for him opening the zipper of Eren’s jeans so he can free his now fully hard and flushed cock from its confines. It then continues to make him lick sloppily over his hand before he goes back to jacking Eren off, now way more efficient.

 

The noises he pulls out of Eren like this make it very difficult to not palm himself through his pants, own dick still trapped in his clothes, heavy and utterly unamused.

 

“I swear, if you’re just saying random shit right now so you can have a giggle at my cost afterwards, I’ll break your legs, Jäger.” Jean growls, relishing in the feeling of Eren’s thighs pressing closer towards his own.

 

“Wasn’t, I swear.” Eren breaths out and brushes his slightly parted lips up and down Jean’s cheek.

 

“What were you saying then?” Jean asks and curses inwardly at the obscene sensation of his forefinger getting coated with a fresh wave of precome.

 

“Not - not telling.” Eren says brainlessly before he - equally brainless - presses their lips together for a series of long, lazy kisses that part over small moans now and then.

 

“Wir haben beide übrigens für meinen Geschmack noch viel zu viel an.” "We're both way too dressed for my taste by the way." Eren states after a while. The only thing telling Jean what he means by that is him tugging at Jean’s hoodie once.

 

“Clothes off? Yeah, yeah okay, I can do that.” Albeit reluctantly, Jean lets go of Eren and shrugs his hoodie off, bemoaning the loss of Eren’s weight as he stands up to get naked too. As always, Eren is quicker at it than Jean, which means that after Jean has peeled the clothes off his upper body, he sees Eren standing stark naked in front of him.

 

“Ah, ah, ah!” He then calls out warningly as Jean’s fingers fly to his belt. It makes Jean freeze in place effectively. “Das will ich machen. Finger weg.” "I wanna do that. Fingers off." After that, he just continues to stare down at Jean, leaving him to deduce what the hell he wants. Trusting the feeling in his gut, Jean lets his hands fall aside. Eren grinning, clearly pleased, and kneeling down in between Jean’s legs tells him guessed correctly.

 

“Mensch, Mensch, du bist ja doch ein gut aufgerichtetes Pferd.”  "Well, well, looks like you're a well trained horse after all." Eren snickers as his fingers work to loosen Jean’s belt. Squinting his eyes at him, Jean flicks a finger against Eren’s forehead. “Oi! Wofür - What was that for?” Eren complains, feigning innocence as he rubs the sore spot with an over-acted pout.

 

“Doesn’t matter what language you speak dude, I’ll always know when you make a horse-joke. Can see it in your fucking face, you asshole.”

 

At this, Eren’s mouth falls open for a moment and that is all Jean has to see to know that his intuition has been correct once again.

 

“Huh. Durchaus beeindruckend, mein Lieber.” "Huh. Quite impressive, my dear." Eren says after he has caught himself, pulling at Jean’s pants, to which he lifts his butt from the bed so Eren can pull them down along with his underwear. As soon as they are freed, Eren’s mouth is pulled to Jean’s legs like a magnet to metal.

 

Eyelids fluttering closed and fingers digging into the mattress, Jean revels in the attention he receives, how Eren’s hands smooth over the backside of his calves painstakingly slow, altering in the pressure as if he’s a sculptor and Jean is his figure made out of clay, ready for the finishing touches on his curves. What Eren’s lips do to his knees and thighs doesn’t feel any less illegal, Jean experiences the impact of every soft, fleeting kiss as if they are landmines going off.

 

They don’t do things slowly that often, but whenever they do, it feels like this - it feels like worship.

 

Jean never would have thought that Eren Jäger of all people was capable of patience and savoring things. That is, not until they moved in together and suddenly, every Sunday meant sitting at the breakfast table for at least two hours in absolute peace as they enjoyed that ridiculously tasty German bread and those weird-ass Brötchen Eren always baked himself.

 

Which, admittedly, is a weird thing to think about while Jean sits rock hard on the edge of the bed, arms threatening to lose all of their usual capability and whole upper body swaying slightly before he can catch himself so he doesn’t fall backwards on the bed.

 

In front of him, Eren lets out a groan and presses his face into Jean’s thigh for a second.

 

“Heilige Scheiße Jean, es haut mich immer wieder um, wie sensibel du manchmal bist.” "Holy shit, Jean, it blows my mind how sensitive you are sometimes time and time again." He grumbles and then looks up. Jean cannot even fully make out his facial expression despite him being only a few feet away, vision having become blurry. He doesn’t even know why, maybe the part of his brain that is responsible for processing visual information has shut down. “Du verwöhnst mich, ernsthaft. Ich muss mich nicht mal anstrengen und du benimmst dich als wäre ich der geilste Stecher überhaupt.” After the last part, Eren snorts, almost at himself and presses a fleeting kiss onto Jean’s inner thigh with smiling lips. “Sorry, said something pretty meme-y right now. Made myself laugh.”

 

“Don’t you dare kill the mood right now, Jäger.” Jean warns with a breathless voice, to which Eren smiles lazily and one of his hands creeps further up Jean’s leg.

 

“Nicht doch.” "Wouldn't dream of it." Eyes fixated on Jean’s face, Eren grazes his fingers just over the base of Jean’s dick. A dick that has been neglected for far too long and now absolutely loses its shit over even this meager attention.

 

“Fuck.” Jean wheezes out and curls his toes in an attempt not to come right then and there. With a devilish grin, Eren puts his fingers around the shaft, gently rubbing the base. “Eren, please .” He doesn’t even know what he is asking for, the words just fall from his lips as he pulls his legs together at that weird mixture of discomfort and extreme arousal. 

 

“Hmm - okay, okay. Genug des Vorspiels, verstehe schon.” "Hmm - okay, okay. Enough of the foreplay, I get it." With a last kiss against his knee, Eren stands up. “Leg dich richtig auf Bett, hm?” "Lay down properly on the bed, hm?" He then coos and gently pushes against one of Jean’s legs while making a weird gesture with his hand. Confused, Jean blinks up at Eren. “Huh?” He makes, feeling utterly lost for a moment.

 

“Oh Scheiße verdammt, hör auf so niedlich zu sein, du Bastard.” "Oh for fucks sake, stop being so cute, you bastard." Eren mutters and pushes Jean into falling onto the mattress before hooks an arm beneath his kneecaps and begins to manhandle Jean into lying correctly on the bed instead of being sprawled across the short side. Finally catching up on what Eren has wanted from him, Jean escapes Eren’s arm and does the rest by himself. This makes Eren smile almost proudly down at him before he presses a gentle kiss on Jean’s lips. “Du bist’n Genie, Babe.” "You're a genius, babe."

 

Heart beating wildly in his chest, Jean watches Eren retrieve their usual utensils from the nightstand and then as he crawls on the bed beside Jean.

 

He opens his legs in a silent invitation that Eren immediately accepts.

 

Crouched down between his knees now, Eren grabs Jean’s bent knees and squeezes as his eyes take in every inch of Jean’s naked body with an intensity that still has him blush every damn time. The only difference now is that he doesn’t hide his face in his hands and also doesn’t kick Eren anymore.

 

“Hübsch wie immer.” "Pretty as always." Eren sighs and then drags a still dry finger over the puckered skin of Jean’s hole that has his dick and anus twitch. Eren bites his lip at the sight before he hooks his arms under Jean’s legs and leans forward until Jean is folded into himself. He kind of expects a kiss and prepares by closing his eyes - only to get disappointed when instead, Eren snatches his wrists to place Jean’s hands on his own thighs. Blinking his eyes open, Jean grabs them on instinct, to which Eren gives a pleased hum.

 

“Halt deine Beine für mich offen, okay?” Hold your legs open for me, okay?" He then says and with one last squeeze around Jean’s wrists, he pulls back again. Jean’s neck is burning, probably blotchy red at holding himself open like this to present everything to Eren on a silver platter.

 

The parts around Eren’s eyes soften as he smiles down at Jean. “Perfekt.” He hums and comes down again, this time really to kiss Jean, who honestly doesn’t know how to feel right now, because this is all … weird , having to rely completely on Eren’s actions and body language to understand what he means and all.

 

He digs into his own skin to keep from grabbing Eren’s - well, anything, really - like he normally would when Eren tilts his head and lets their tongues slide against each other. It’s unfair, really, that Eren is free to let his hand roam freely over Jean’s torso, dragging over his not-so defined muscles before getting a bit rougher as soon as he reaches one of his nipples just like Jean likes it. 

 

Jean’s heart is hammering somewhere beneath Eren’s hand and when Eren pushes one of his fingers into Jean (again with a small gasp), Jean is moaning into Eren’s mouth. They part with a wet sound and Eren wipes over Jean’s spit-covered lips.

 

“More please, Eren, come on.” He hisses and pulls his legs open further, rolling his hips as if to lure Eren into complying.

 

Eren clicks his tongue at him. “Keine Geduld hier, ist ja mal wieder typisch.” "No patience, how typical of you." But he complies anyway and the second finger goes in easily, because Jean is already butter beneath his fingers at this point.

 

There is still that delicious stretch though, and Jean lets out a high, long moan.

 

“Gott Jean, du bist so verdammt heiß, an dir ist echt ein Stripper oder so vorbeigegangen.” God Jean, you're so fucking hot, the earth really lost a stripper or something in you." Eren grits out, clearly affected by the view Jean offers right now. “Hey, kannst du mir einen Gefallen tun und mich ansehen? Jean?” "Hey, could you do me a favor and look at me? Jean?" Then, he nibs at Jean’s leg. The sharp teeth make Jean’s eyes snap open and look up at Eren, who has been clearly waiting for him to find his gaze. “Ja genau so. Bleib so, okay?” "Yes, just like this. Stay like this, okay?" A slight rise of his voice at the end. Clearly a question of some sort, but Jean has no clue to what. Confused, he furrows his brows, but doesn’t break eye contact. “Bleib so. Sieh’ mich an.” "Stay like this. Look at me." Eren whispers and leans forward again, bracing himself with one hand next to Jean’s face as he looms over him.

 

Gulping against the scratchiness in his throat, Jean resists the urge to close his eyes again as Eren just barely misses his prostate. Instead, he twists his face in a dissatisfied huff.

 

“Oh, war ich nah dran?" "Oh, was I close there?" The next thrust of Eren’s fingers hit dead on, which makes Jean shudder and moan out Eren’s name. Above him, Eren groans as he looks at Jean with widely blown pupils. “Wunderschön.” "Beautiful." He whispers and curls his fingers around the sensitive bundle of nerves again. This time, not closing his eyes is even more difficult, but Jean manages it, putting all his energy into rolling his hips against Eren’s fingers instead.

 

“Fuck, du bist da unten so warm und weich, ich kann’s kaum erwarten in dir zu sein, Baby.” "Fuck, you're so warm and wet down there, I can't wait to be inside you, baby." Eren is almost whining too now, breath irregular as he nudges another finger against Jean’s rim. “Na, was sagen wir? Noch einen?” "Well, what do we say? Another one?" He asks, before pressing all three fingers in.

 

Jean’s body goes rigid for a second, lower belly flexing at the overwhelming sensation of feeling almost full but not entirely. Eren turns his fingers inside him, lube producing embarrassing, squelching noises before he resumes to slowly fucking Jean with his fingers, never breaking that weird ass intense eye-contact they have going on.

 

And Jean can take it only for a few more seconds before him clenching down at something that wasn’t fully there and the snail's pace Eren has set become too much.

 

“Eren, I’m - I’m ready.”

 

Nodding, Eren pulls out and dives down for a short kiss before he rolls a condom over his dick … and then promptly plops down on the bed right next to him, getting comfortable on his back like the lazy fucker he is, head turned to grin at Jean, who is one second away from throwing a temper tantrum, because what the actual fuck?

 

“Na komm, beweg deinen süßen Arsch hier rüber und reit’ mich.” "Come on, move your cute butt over here and ride me." He says, quickly nodding down to his crotch and slapping one of his pulled up legs on emphasis. And - oooh - okay, yeah, Jean is so on board with that.

 

Eagerly and with a fresh wave of energy, Jean heaves himself up and throws one leg over Eren’s hip. As soon as he is within reach, Eren steadies him by grabbing his hips, warm hands sending goosebumps over the nearby skin.

 

Jean has a sweet spot for riding Eren, as it combines all sorts of wonderful things: Eren inside him, Eren all spread out in front of him and Eren almost entirely at Jean’s mercy.

 

Like this, it doesn’t matter that Jean’s legs are quivering as he sinks down on Eren’s dick or that he’s making all these small, broken noises. It doesn’t matter that it’s all due to the sole, pathetic reason that he is finally being completely filled, stretched around something pressed so snugly against his walls.

 

Because at the same time, Eren is staring up at him with an open mouth and awe glistening in his eyes, his hands are not leaving Jean’s slim waist and if that idiot hadn’t tied his hair together, it would be splayed around his head like a crown.

 

As they are catching their breaths, Jean experimentally wriggles in Eren’s lap, searching for that perfect angle that will have his spine go up in flames in a few moments.

 

“Mir - mir kommt es fast so vor als würdest du dich von mal zu mal besser anfühlen.” "I - I almost think that you feel better and better every time we do this." Eren gasps out, voice of a rough and breathless quality that shakes Jean’s core.

 

Reaching behind him to anchor himself on Eren’s leg, he raises his hips just a bit and then quickly lets himself fall back down. The hands around his hips tighten with a start and Eren lets out a loud moan as he throws his head back, baring his long, beautiful neck. This alone has Jean’s guts tingling.

 

Bringing his second hand back too, Jean lets his next move be bolder, which draws another loud noise out of Eren before his eyes return to Jean’s form again, hungry like the tongue that licks his lips. 

 

After this, it is as if it is physically impossible for Eren to look away again but also impossible to concentrate on a single aspect of Jean. Instead, his gaze jumps between Jean’s face, his chest, his red and heavy dick.

 

This is another reason why Jean has a thing for riding Eren. Because as much as he likes being manhandled by that guy from time to time, nothing really beats feeling so damn desirable that Eren can’t help but stare and drool and squeeze and pull at Jean’s asscheeks. Nothing beats feeling like that and also feeling so damn powerful, because even though Eren could flip them around whenever he wishes, he never had done so, always rendered too stupid by Jean’s rolling hips.

 

Everything about this satisfies the asshole in Jean as well as that weaker part he doesn’t like acknowledging. The part that desperately wants to please .

 

“F-fuck, Eren, I’m so close.” Jean sobs out and he has to readjust his grip on Eren’s legs because his palms are so sweaty.

 

Eren just makes an agreeing noise and nods his head as he is rocking into Jean’s movements.

 

“Say something. One more time.” Jean orders and pinches Eren’s legs, eyes closed as he lets his body move on his own, too blissed out to care about something mundane as seeing .

 

“Dein Arsch fühlt sich so geil um meinen Schwanz an.”, Eren hurries to say and fuck, this is all so good, Jean is so fucking close, he-

 

There is a sound beneath him. A splutter. One he is well attuned to, because back in high-school, whenever they were fooling around in the last row during a boring lesson, hearing it meant they were about to be in really big trouble.

 

No .

 

Eyes snapping open, Jean looks down at Eren as he is just in the process of impaling himself on Eren’s dick again. And sure enough, Eren’s lips are pressed tightly together, and everything about him looks like it’s ready to snap and -

 

And then the laughter breaks out of him. Loud and obnoxious, coming from somewhere deep inside his belly and killing all of Jean’s approaching orgasm more effectively than being dunked in an icy lake.

 

“ Are you kidding me? ” Jean screams, but Eren just shakes his head as tears spill out of eyes. “Dude, I was just about to come!”

 

“Pff - haha, that’s what she said!” Eren barks out before laughing even harder at his own joke.

 

“Ugh.” Jean hates his life. Pinching his nose, he wants to move off Eren’s lap, but before he can do so, Eren sits up to hug Jean, still giggling. Asshole.

 

“Ah shit, I’m so sorry, babe.”

 

“You better fucking be, dipshit.” Jean grumbles and punches Eren’s shoulder before pulling away. “What was it?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“What did you say that made you laugh?”

 

“Oh uhm - It was ‘Your ass feels so good around my dick’.”

 

“Seriously? Seriously ? Dude, you say that all the fucking time in English. It’s one of your tamest things, what the hell ?” And yeah, this is it. Jean scrambles out of Eren’s lap and flops down on the bed again, lying on his side and facing Eren, just so he could throw him a dark look.

 

“I told you - it’s different in German, all right?” Eren whines before mimicking Jean’s position.

 

Jean continues to scowl at Eren, but he doesn’t push his hand away when Eren cups his jaw and brushes his thumb over Jean’s cheek.

 

“I’m sorry I killed the mood like that.”

 

“You didn’t just kill it, you fucking butchered it. Messily.”

 

Eren laughs and nudges Jean’s shin with his foot. “Yeah well, I did warn you that this would be the worst sex you’ve ever had, didn’t I?”

 

Jean lets the silence that follows pass for about two seconds before he comes to the decision that this would simply not do.

 

He refuses that there would be even one more memory in Eren’s head labeled “bad, awkward sex with Jean” when to Jean, bad sex with Eren simply isn’t possible.

 

“Oh, so you’ll just let it stay at that? Damn, that’s pretty pathetic, even for you, Jäger.”

 

It works like a charm. Eren frowns and braces himself on his elbow to make himself appear bigger in comparison to Jean. Ah, riling Eren up really is way too easy.

 

“Woah, hey - never said that!”

 

Raising one eyebrow, Jean makes a show of looking up and down Eren’s body.

 

“Sure looked like it, though.”

 

“Na warte, dir werde ich gleich das volle Ausmaß von deutscher Gründlichkeit zeigen!” Eren exclaims and pushes at Jean’s body until he is lying flat on his back again before he moves on top of him.

 

“What was that ?” Jean asks just as he places his hands on Eren’s sides, curious.

 

“Eh, just said that I’ll show you true German thoroughness right now.” Eren explains as he reaches down between his legs to stroke himself into full hardness again. “Ah shit, I think we need another condom, it’s all weird now. Could you grab one, they’re right next to your head.”

 

“Just leave it, I’ll take a bath after.” Jean finds himself saying, to which Eren nods and lets the condom fall down on the ground. “But lube please.”

 

“Dude, of course, I’m not a heathen.” Eren rolls his eyes and reaches towards the tube.

 

When he roughly pushes into Jean shortly after, it’s with a messy kiss during which Jean finally can bury his fingers into Eren’s glorious hair and dispose of that god-awful hair tie. He flicks it right across the room, which makes Eren chuckle into his mouth.

 

“You really like my hair, huh?” Eren boasts against Jean’s lips while his hips search for Jean’s sweet spot.

 

“Don’t - ah shit, there, Eren - don’t get cocky.”

 

“Hehe, cocky .”

 

“I hate you.” Jean says weakly and after that, it’s quiet between them apart from the sound of their hips smashing together and their shared moans. 

 

Putting his legs tightly around Eren’s waist as if they were snakes that want to choke him, Jean lets a hand wander up and down Eren’s hard and flexing back, acutely aware of every single one of Eren’s vertebrae he comes across.

 

He can tell that Eren is getting close really fast by the way he lets himself fall down onto his elbows, hips’ movements growing more shallow in favor of going faster. Not that Jean is faring any better though, the hand that has explored Eren’s spine finally stops at the back of Eren’s skull, shaking and just powerful enough to grab the sweaty strands like a lifeline.

 

“Jean, Jean, I’m gonna -” Eren babbles into the crook of Jean’s neck, to which he can only croak out something that’s supposed to be a “Me too” before his own hand rubbing over his wet and heated dick pulls the rest of his brain cells into the roaring current.

 

He is coming hard and fast as always, mind so hazy he hears Eren’s scream as if far away before he too is coming inside Jean. The feeling of his walls being directly splattered with sperm and fluid is forgein but not entirely uncomfortable. It’s the dripping out afterwards that he doesn’t like, the reason why he prefers condoms generally. He shudders and moans again, legs pulling Eren closer one last time.

 

They catch their breath together for a moment, Jean scratching Eren’s head while Eren is idly brushing his lips up and down Jean’s neck, deeply breathing in his scent.

 

“So -” Jean then starts before he realizes that he has to swallow in order to wet his throat. “So let me get this straight: ‘German thoroughness’ also is a synonym for ‘coming in twelve seconds flat’, yes?”

 

Eren laughs into his neck and gently squeezes Jean’s side. “At least I made you come in that time too.”

 

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Eren, but I made myself come. Didn’t you see my hand on my dick?”

 

At that, Eren laughs again, even louder before he pushes himself up, hair falling down and pointing towards Jean under him and looking so damn happy that Jean kind of wants to come up with another thing to make him laugh.

 

“Du bist so ein Arschloch, Alter. Ich liebe dich.” He then says, brain apparently so thoroughly fried that he has fallen back into German again. “Ich liebe dich, ich liebe dich, ich liebe, liebe, liebe dich, shit .” He babbles, still grinning while showering Jean’s entire face with kisses.

 

It makes Jean’s heart flutter and he is more than disappointed when it ends with Eren pressing his face in the crook of Jean’s neck again as he carefully pulls out. Jean makes a face because ew, he can feel his come trickling out now.

 

“I’ll get you a washcloth.” Eren mumbles and just like always, he jumps up and walks away like nothing happened.

 

He comes back without M&Ms this time, completely focused on the task of saving a bit of Jean’s decency.

 

“What did that last part mean?” Jean asks when the curiosity becomes too strong. And things become even more interesting when Eren freezes up like an icicle.

 

“Huh? What - like what part?”

 

“Dude. You know what I mean.” Jean deadpans and watches how Eren returns to slowly wipe him down with a heavy gulp.

 

“Don’t remember what I said.”

 

“Uh-huh … Yeah don’t fuck with me Jäger, your memory isn’t that bad.”

 

Eren shrugs, movements suspiciously small as if he thinks that if he doesn’t really move, Jean will forget about it. Too bad that once he has licked blood, Jean doesn’t give up.

 

“You said - Ich liebe dich - what does it mean?” He probably butchers the pronunciation, but he figures that he’s done a decent job when Eren’s eyes almost pop out of their pockets.

 

“It’s uh - It means ‘I think you’re a stupid bitch’, that’s what it means!” He then barks out, which is so obviously a lie that Jean almost pities him - nobody says I think you’re a stupid bitch in such a gentle tone. “I’ll go cook something for lunch!” Eren then calls out before he has finished cleaning the come out of Jean’s pubes and storms out of the room.

 

It’s nagging Jean the whole time he prepares his bath and once he’s sitting inside, he stares at the ceiling for five seconds before he can’t take it anymore. Heaving half of his upper body out of the tub again, he grabs his phone from the nearby cabinet and opens google translate.

 

The small bling that goes off when he taps the microphone symbol echoes back from the white, cold tiles in the room.

 

“Ich. Liebe. Dich.” Jean says slowly, phone tilted so he can speak directly into the microphone and hoping that he’s getting it right.

 

There comes another bling, an indication that the thing has understood.

 

The answer comes quick, with a text popping up on the right box.

 

I love you.

 

Jean dumbly stares at his phone until the screen fades black.

 

“Huh.” He then says right before the phone falls out of his grip and onto the bath mat.

 

It really isn’t that much of a surprise, is it? 

 

He’s said it himself - to Connie, to his own reflection in the mirror - he and Eren definitely are more than fuckbuddies at this point.

 

After all, Eren doesn’t exactly hide his affection with all the touching and taking care of him after sex and … stuff. 

 

Hell, Jean should be over … feeling like this. He has ticked that off his list when he’s stopped worrying that Eren would leave in the near future, that very day Eren hadn’t put fresh linen on his own bed and had instead thrown his own pillow and blanket on Jean’s mattress, when they had gone to sleep together that night without even fucking beforehand.

 

So why is Jean suddenly filled with the overpowering urge to go beneath the water so it would swallow an unmanly scream of absolute and utter glee ?

 

***~***~***

 

When he wanders into the kitchen a good twenty minutes later, he has calmed down again.

 

It’s Eren who’s still being weird. He jumps slightly at Jean’s arrival and sends him small side-glances or downright stares when he thinks Jean isn’t paying attention.

 

Everything about this is hilarious and makes Jean want to be a bit sardonic, so he ignores Eren all the way through lunch, feigning ignorance to the obvious elephant in the room.

 

“Thanks for the food, babe.” He then says before getting up to put the dishes into the dishwasher. “I think I’ll head back to the atelier for a few more hours now though, I’m still feeling quite inspired.”

 

“Oh, uh - sure.” Eren mumbles and Jean cannot fight the giant grin that comes up to his face when not even a second passes after he has left the room before he can hear the feet of a chair scraping over the floor and Eren following him into the entrance area.

 

Jean doesn’t acknowledge his existence all the way through getting dressed and then schools his expression with great difficulty as he gives Eren a kiss goodbye.

 

It’s only when he’s halfway out, already pulling the door closed behind him, that he turns back to look at Eren, who - oh, this is brilliant - is still standing in the middle of the space like an idiot.

 

“Oh, by the way. I think you’re a stupid bitch too. Just thought you should know.” He states evenly before breaking into a grin and winking at Eren.

 

The last thing he sees is Eren gasping in shock before he pulls the door closed.

 

“Jean!” He can hear Eren scream through the thick wood and then he hears some sort of rumbling that clearly indicates Eren is hurriedly getting dressed too. Feeling a bit silly, Jean makes a beeline for the stairs, zooming past one of their neighbors as if someone was after him.

 

“You can’t just say that and leave, you little - oh, hi Miss Benett - Jean! Come back here!”

 

***~***~***

 

“Sooo - does this mean you’re willing to sing me a love song in German now?”

 

“God no, I stand by the fact that they suck ass. But you know - we’re no strangers to love. You know the rules and so do I. A full commitment's what I’m thinking of. You wouldn’t get this from any other guy.”

 

“Ew, Eren. That’s disgusting. Do it in Kermit’s voice.”

 

“ Never gonna give you up! Never gonna let you down! ”