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They light a candle, but no one sings and the silence feels cavernous.
It’s a small glow; wavering with Jean’s breath as he backs away from lighting it.
The three of them watch the flame for a moment. A heartbeat or two. A heartbeat or two of three living hearts where there should have been four.
It’s barely been a year. A year since Sasha’s death.
Connie uses the flame to light his blunt. Jean puts it out with his fingers and then hands Eren back the lighter.
They are quiet for a while. The cake puts them all off — it was Sasha’s favourite and Connie had asked for it…
Damn, he regretted doing so now. The stupid strawberry on top, the whipped cream, the jam filling. It’s all exactly as she liked. Her absence is so strong, so present it haunts him.
It haunts all of them.
Eren asked, but Armin and Mikasa weren’t able to visit — the two were still recovering from Eren’s last overdose and needed space from the boy more desperately than ever.
Connie snorts to himself, glancing over at where Eren is leaning back on the wooden chair, feet propped up on the coffee table. His hair is filthy , locs fucking matted up and sticking out of his bun like some weird octopus toy for kids. His facial scruff has gotten past the shadow phase and just makes him look unkempt in an annoyingly hot way; his two-hundred or something piercings only seem to bolster the boy’s appearance — no wonder Jean started fucking him.
Jean looks a right mess too though, and internally Connie laughs at the pair of them. His dirty blond hair, normally so nicely swept up and back with copious amounts of preppy-boy gel, is hanging loosely around his pale face in oily curtains that suggest it’s been a hot fucking minute since he’s last showered.
Connie sighs and taps his blunt against the ashtray of Sasha’s cake — the strawberry turns grey.
“This fucking sucks,” he mutters, and reaches for his phone.
“Thank fuck you said it first,” Eren groans, running a hand up between his locs to undo the tie that holds them together. He shakes his head and tries to scratch at his scalp, soothing the ache from his matts.
“Dude, you need to get your locs fixed, you look like shit,” Jean says, moving to press his fingers to soothe the ache between the thick twists.
Connie watches with absent-minded interest — they’ve never hidden their dalliances from him. Fuck, they’ve both snogged on his couch more times than he’s willing to recount. He doesn’t doubt they’ve used his air-mattress for more than crashing either.
Whatever — it doesn’t matter. Between the three of them he is the most financially stable. Jean got kicked out of home before he had a chance to get his feet up under him and Eren…
Fuck, Eren’s been a mess since before high school.
The man should have been a lost cause by now, but he’s been getting his feet right up under him. His last overdose was enough to make even his best friends distant and that was the last fucking thing he wanted.
Plus… he has Jean now. And Jean has been going to the community college alongside his job for about a year. Making slow but steady progress after being disowned and kicked out of Uni.
Connie gets up and moves to his cabinet, bringing out two double-sized bottles of vodka from his mom. “Gettin’ hammered sounds good to you two faggots?”
Eren snorts but Jean flinches (still?).
“Sure, hand the shit over — do you take this on the rocks? Or is this one of those drinks you just down like water — fuckin’ Ruskis…” Eren asks.
“Nah, take it straight. You guys want glasses or we cool with swappin’ spit?” Connie asks, sitting back down on the couch.
“Man, you made that sound worse than it is…” Jean winces with disgust. “I’ll get cups.”
“Sit down horse-boy. He’s fine with it and you’ve had worse in your mouth,” Eren says lazily, stretching back for a moment before getting up to join Connie on the couch. After a moment, Jean joins them. Sitting opposite Eren on Connie’s other side.
Connie sticks his joint between his lips and struggles for a moment with the corkscrew to untap the vodka. He notices only after his third failed attempt that his hands are shaking too badly.
Frustrated, he tosses the corkscrew to the table, the gesture almost aggressive.
Jean takes it up and takes the glass bottle of vodka from Connie, opening the seal without so much as a hint of trouble.
“Can I take a hit, Con?” Eren asks suddenly, slim fingers already outstretched towards him. Connie takes out the joint and aims the smoke at Eren’s face when he blows it out.
“No.”
“Dude. Uncool. If you wanna shotgun me so bad just say so,” Eren coughs.
“Fucking hell, Eren. We haven’t even started drinking. Keep it in your pants, asshole,” Jean spits, then he takes a deep drink of the Vodka and passes it to Connie.
He takes the bottle and passes his blunt to Eren who hasn’t stopped holding out his hand — knowing that Connie would relent despite his better judgement. Connie drinks deeply twice from the bottle and then takes a third sip with a grimace.
Jean is watching him from his right and he can feel Eren watching him from his left.
He feels seen and it makes him uncomfortably hot.
“Would you two fags quit starin’ at me?” he spits out thickly, throat burning from the alcohol even as it settles comfortingly in his stomach.
“You’re hot when you’re depressed man, can’t help it.”
“Eren, Jesus fucking Christ you can’t say that shit!” Jean says, swatting Eren’s head from behind Connie’s back.
Connie laughs wetly and crumples slightly under the weight of everything falling the fuck apart.
He’d been ready to marry her. Had the ring and everything. Had even managed to face his fear and talk to Mikasa and Armin about a proper time to propose (he didn’t trust Jean or Eren with that kind of shit — not by a long shot).
And then she fucking died .
She died because some asshole killed her. Some fucking lunatic, bitch asshole who was drunk or high or whatever — crashed into her when she was coming over from work. She still had fucking doghair on her black t-shirt (the blood on the shirt will never leave Connie’s mind).
Connie had to explain to the doctors that the scratches on her arm were because she dealt with feisty kittens and not because she had a history of self-abuse. The girl was one of the happiest people he’s ever met.
And now she’s fucking dead.
She’s been dead for over a year actually. But it still hurts like hell. Oh fuck, it hurts worse than hell.
“S’okay, Jean — fuck man, I could do with the distraction,” Connie says wetly and then chokes on a sob as he rubs his eye.
“Shit, I mean — whatever ya need, Con,” Eren says with a mixture of surprise and understanding. He takes a drag of the blunt and blows it out slowly, then moves to bury the butt of it into the cake and slides his hand behind Connie to rest on the back of the couch and toy with Jean’s sleeve.
“You sure you wanna do… like you know what Eren’s offering right?” Jean asks, trying to be the voice of reason. He bats Eren’s hand away with annoyance.
Connie snorts and takes another drink. He’s already feeling light-headed but nowhere near as giddy and light hearted as he wants to. Somehow he thinks that he’ll never feel as giddy and light-hearted as when he was with her, again.
“I don’t give a fuck. I just wanna stop thinkin’ about her.”
“Right. Want me t’suck you off then?” Eren asks, half-serious, half-compassionate. Connie chokes on his drink as he tries to speak too fast. Jean slaps him on the back a few times and he manages to get words out properly.
“Suck your boyfriend off, you way too fuckin’ horny right now.”
“He aint suckin’ anyone right now. Just cool it you both.” Jean interrupts and his voice leaves no room for argument.
It’s so final that Eren and Connie both shut up for a moment, passing the vodka bottle back and forth between all three of them until it slowly but surely empties.
At this point Connie feels a few miles left of tipsy and the tears start coming before the pain hits. All he can see is her face, her beautiful smile, the way she’d talk about being so excited for veterinary school. All the damn dogs and cats she’d give characteristics to.
Connie had started remembering all of their names just ‘cause of how often she’d mention fucking Bubbles, Scabby, Bolt, Honey Bun, Randy, all the fucking lot of them. She’d make up stories about what they’d do with their owners at home, how some of them absolutely detested their names… She’d come home and practically kiss the life outta Connie when he had time to make her a home-made meal.
She loved his stir-fry and he busted every damn brain cell in his head to learn how to do it well. Perfecting his technique until she would cry when she smelled it coming home. And when he fucking finally got his Associates for Computer Science he had so much more time between applying for jobs and working part-time at Best Buy™ to make it for her almost every day.
She had so much ahead of her, so much life and love and excitement. She made every day worth it .
Fuck.
Fuck!
Connie isn’t aware of how badly he’s crying until he feels two pairs of hands holding his shoulders and two others rubbing up and down his thighs, desperate motions of subdued panic to try and bring him back.
“Hey, Con? Connie? Connie talk to us man…” Jean was saying soft as he could between the strain of panic and concern.
Eren wasn’t saying much, just rubbing Connie’s legs with clear intent on bringing back some semblance of sensation.
Connie gasps. “She’s fuckin’ gone. What the fuck — what the fuck — god fucking damn it I want to die…” He chokes and buries his face into his hands, shocked at the truth to the statement. At the violence of it. He’d never wanted to — never even thought of it.
It was something he’d seen others struggle with and privately, he thought they couldn’t possibly mean it. No one could be so upset as to really want to kill themselves.
Fuck he was wrong.
Fuck he was wrong.
“Hey. Con, look at me. Look at me man.” Jean’s voice breaks through the haze of red and blue pain for a moment and Connie opens his watery eyes to see the unnaturally bright gold ones of his friend. “You’re not gonna do that to her. Y’think she wants you dead? She’d want you to keep pushin’ to live her dream out. To survive and preserve her memory, every. Fucking. Day.”
Eren sighs and moves up on the couch again, having slipped onto the floor to better massage Connie’s legs. He leans back on the armrest and pulls Connie onto him, leaning him back until he is laying on Eren’s stomach.
Then his hands start massaging Connie’s scalp in delicate soft motions, threading through his buzz cut hair, longer than normal from over a year of no maintenance.
“It’s gonna hurt, Con. It’s gon hurt for a long fuckin’ time. And I’m no fuckin’ better than you. I tried t’end it like… fuck knows how many times, since Ma died.” Something in the boy’s voice turns dark as all the related memories to his mother’s death come back in slow but sure pictures.
Connie wasn’t there. But damn it he remembered Eren from middle school, from when his mom was alive. She was one of the most loved mothers all around. Always inviting everyone over for dinner, that sweet kind look on her face. The way she’d always wear the same damn apron until Eren conspired with Armin and Mikasa and the rest of their class to make her a new one with everyone pitching in a piece of fabric.
It looked awful, but damn she never once let them think that. She wore it proud every school meeting. Then, in fourth grade. Everything fell the fuck apart.
Eren continued muttering something, his hands working softly on Connie’s temples as Jean took over massaging his legs. The alcohol worked its way into dissociating Connie and all he felt was … distant.
Just distant enough from his body and mind and pain. But present enough to feel and appreciate the touch for the comfort it gave.
Fourth grade. Eren didn’t show up for school for a full week. And then they all learned what had happened.
Eren’s father had cheated on his mother. Years ago, before Eren was even born. Had a kid with that woman. Someone called Zeke or some shit. Well, Zeke’s mother had gone absolutely psycho and apparently Zeke had tried to warn his dad multiple times that his mother had gone off the deep end.
But of course Grisha didn’t give a fuck. He had cut Zeke off as a bad memory of his past and ignored the warnings.
And then Carla suffered the consequences.
Zeke’s mother came into the house and shot Carla in front of Eren. From there, the police report came back that Eren had shot and killed Zeke’s mother, Grisha came in and was so devastated that he had simply taken the gun out of Eren’s hand and shot himself as well.
Eren was ten.
He stayed in the house with the three dead bodies for a whole day.
And then walked to Mikasa and Armin’s house, bloodstained and calm, to ask for help.
Armin’s parents had already unofficially adopted Mikasa due to her own father dying the year prior, and her mother returning to drugs as a result. It didn’t take much for them to adopt Eren as well.
Except Eren wasn’t as good of a kid as Mikasa was.
Zeke was at university and while he tried to meet Eren, he was not prepared to build a substantial relationship with his half-brother who had killed his mother.
All of this history came to Connie like a strange silent film. He knew what Eren was trying to say to him. He attempted to kill himself so many times, and each time, he let another one of his friends stop him. He allowed himself to be saved.
He was telling Connie now, to let them save him too.
Eren’s hands stop their soothing movements on Connie’s head and move down to hold him over his chest.
“We… we got you, Con. We got ya.” Eren whispers gently.
“I’m sick of it man. I’m sick of it…” Connie hears himself respond softly, his words slurring between tears that roll down his cheeks.
Jean looks up from where he has also stopped his motions, and his lower lip is caught between his teeth. “Connie…”
“Shut — shut it. Fuckin’ hell just… shut up” Connie raises a weak arm just enough to reach for Jean’s shirt and drags him up till he can press his lips against Jean’s mouth.
Jean sputters for a moment, and then Connie bites at his lip messily so Jean shuts up and closes his eyes, kissing back with meaning.
Eren watches for a moment, adjusting his position to spread his legs a little wider and push Connie into a more proper sitting position. Then he traces his hands from Connie’s lower back, tracing up his spine and lifting his shirt as he goes.
The man’s gotten so much thinner, his hard-earned muscle mass dropping dramatically in the year since he has abandoned the gym.
Connie breaks away from Jean’s kiss to let Eren fully take his shirt off and leans back for a moment to receive the kiss Eren offers him.
“Feel like I should’ve showered before this…” Jean mutters as he throws off his wife-beater tank top.
“I don’ fuckin’ care.” Connie says, turning away from Eren’s kiss which had gotten far too heated in far too short a time.
“I can shower man, won’t take more than a minute —” Jean gets cut off when Connie gets off the couch, wobbling dramatically before Eren stabilises him by the hip.
“I said —” Connie slurs, standing up again and hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his joggers, “I don’ — I don’ care.” He takes the next bottle of vodka and throws it at Eren carelessly. “Open this shit. I’m too sober. Still thinkin’ ‘bout her.”
Eren listens easily, but his motions are also choppy and clumsy. He opens the bottle, lifts it to his mouth, but doesn’t drink.
Jean is staring at him, and his gold-glimmering eyes are sharp like blades over his frown. Eren sets the bottle down and raises his hands up in mock surrender.
Connie finally manages to get his joggers off and falls back onto the blow-up mattress in the middle of his living room. “Jean… bring the fuckin’ vodka.”
Jean sighs, runs a hand through his hair again, shakes his head and grabs the bottle. “Okay but — go easy. You haven’t drunk like this in a while.”
“Can still — feel her. Fuckin’ feel her hands on me. Perfect damn smile.” Connie groans, eyes half shut and flooding over with tears.
Eren moves towards the blow-up and then pauses midway, swaying in place. “Con, y’wanna… d’ya wanna do the fucking or get fucked?”
“Jus’ make me forget. I don’ care what happens.”
“Alrigh’” Eren removes his tank top as well, revealing a figure that has seen better days, (he’s too skinny) but is ultimately not bad to look at.
Jean clearly thinks so, as he moves to lift the vodka bottle and hands it to Connie, now sitting up, his other arm comes around Eren’s waist possessively.
The stark difference between Jean’s large white fingers clinging tightly to Eren’s sharp, dark hip could have been aesthetic if Connie had any mind left to appreciate such things.
He watches for a minute, sipping gently from the vodka bottle as he makes some room on the bed for Eren to sit down.
Jean follows him easily, sparing a glance for Connie who continues to watch with growing interest. “Y’want a show? Get in the mood?”
“I think he does, Jean. Give him a good one… Ah!” Eren gasps as Jean’s hand finds itself up by his locs, carefully pulling just on the other side of pleasure.
“Shut it. Didn’t ask you.” Jean lets go and turns back to look at Connie, still sipping from the bottle, and is mildly surprised to see the man’s underwear is just a little tented.
“Hey. Cut that out, Con.” Eren mutters, rolling over onto his stomach and grabbing the vodka bottle away from Connie. “Y’drink too much you won’t be able to get hard.”
Connie hiccoughs, and glances at the bottle, now out of reach, with sad desperation before turning back to look at Jean and Eren. “I — I don’ wanna be… I don’ wanna get hard. I feel — she’d be disgusted…”
Jean sighs, and moves over Eren, ignoring his boyfriend’s choked wheeze as he rolls over him to get Connie down onto the mattress. Connie’s eyes grow very wide as his arms are locked over his head and Jean looks down on him with those dangerous golden eyes.
“Whuh—”
“She’d think it’d be hot, Con,” Jean says simply. “Eren, hold his hands.”
Eren blinks and tears his gaze away from the infuriatingly hot power-move Jean pulled long enough to grab Connie’s hands gently at the wrists. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to Connie’s cheek. “You need me to let go, you squeeze my hands twice or say somethin’, yeah?”
Connie adjusts his hands so that he is gripping Eren’s wrists in turn, and whispers, “yeah.”
Jean moves lower and takes Connie’s underwear off. “Spread your legs, now.”
Connie does so, slowly, stutteringly.
Jean moves to kiss up Connie’s hip, biting at the flesh and then moving to lick at his snail-trail. “You need this to stop, then you say so. Yeah?”
Connie swallows, and his hands clutch tightly onto Eren’s wrists. “Yeah.”
Jean huffs, satisfied, and moves down to start licking at Connie’s semi-erect cock. His motions are practised, expert, smooth and confident. He doesn’t seem to even be a tad bit drunk with how his suction and motions are timed.
Connie’s hands start tightening, and his legs alternate from spreading wider to going straight down. His hips start jumping, rocking upwards into the pleasure as he watches with parted lips, soft huffs, and tearful eyes.
Eren grows steadily harder and harder just by watching, but feels obligated at his position in keeping Connie anchored.
His cock aches, knowing intimately the feel of Jean’s tongue on his glans, on all eight and a half inches of his dick. He shifts, subtly grinding his cock between his legs as he listens to the first helpless moans fall from Connie’s mouth.
“Oh — wait! Fuck… shit that’s — Oh god…” Connie chokes and gasps, his hips thrusting up again. It chokes Jean and the once-preppy school boy moves off his friend’s cock, sweeping his sweaty hair back and gasping. Instinctively, he licks the spit and pre from his lips.
“Fuck, man… you’re always so fuckin’ hot when you do that shit…” Eren whispers hoarsely. Jean meets his gaze, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
His eyes dart down, seeing the tent in his boyfriend’s pants and his eyebrow makes a slight but not subtle quirk upwards. When his hand moves away, he’s smirking.
Eren swears he’s hot-wired to feel that smirk in his cock.
Connie manages to catch his breath and his cock has stopped twitching nonstop, calming down enough that Jean deems it safe to continue.
“Eren, get me the lube, yeah?” Jean whispers, using his hand to masterbate Connie gently. His motions more to keep Connie engaged than to give him substantial pleasure.
Eren abandons one of Connie’s hands to find the lube and condoms stashed under the mattress, but when he hands them over to Jean he pauses.
Connie had made quick use of his free hand, tracing down to replace Jean’s hand and masterbate himself while Jean took off his pants and underwear. His own cock is hard as stone, dripping and red at the tip.
“Shit, why the fuck — why y’all hung like damn horses?” Connie whimpers after seeing Jean’s cock bob heavily in the air. “That shit shouldn’t be able to stand up.”
“You got me worked up, what can I say?” Jean answers smoothly, taking the lube and condoms. He rips one open and rolls it on before taking the lube and squeezing some onto his fingers.
Connie shakes. “Wait.”
Both Eren and Jean pause for a moment and trade a glance before looking back to Connie. Eren leans down and nuzzles Connie’s neck, his locs forming a short curtain around their faces.
“What’s up?”
“I — that — fuck I’m soberin’ up,” Connie’s voice is low and broken, soft with hesitancy. “That shit looks scary.”
“He’s good at takin’ it slow, Con” Eren whispers back, close to Connie’s ear. “He was my first. He did well.”
“Yeah?” Connie breathes out, slow and throaty.
“Mmm.” Eren bites at Connie’s ear just a little, eliciting a soft gasp from the Russian boy. “It’ll be good, promise.”
“Alright… alright.” Connie leans back and the tension in his grip on Eren’s wrist lessens.
Jean sees Eren lift his head and give him a nod, and he nods once back before tracing his unlubed hand up Connie’s leg, encouraging the man under him to spread his legs again.
“Here, hold on…” Eren grabs one of the pillows ( Jean’s of course ) and hands it to Jean.
“Right, good call. Connie, lift up.”
“Goddamn, whole list of shit y’all have to do… just t’get a fuck in… thank hell I’m not a fuckin’ faggot…” Connie mutters, blushing darkly as he lifts his hips up.
Eren snorts, amused. Jean rolls his eyes.
Now in the right position, Jean spreads the lube on his fingers up and down Connie’s crack and hole. Then begins to massage his entrance with some rubbing motions.
“This feel alright…”
“No. Feels fuckin’ weird. But — it’s alright… yeah.” Connie unhands his cock in favour of holding both of Eren’s wrists.
Eren shouldn’t be turned on by the wetness on Connie’s fingers now on his wrist. But he is and his cock aches again. He’s begun tenting his pants in earnest and it looks so damn tempting to just frot (hot and hard) against Connie’s shoulder.
Connie sighs out, eyes shut, and the tightness of his hands lessens a little. Eren glances up to see that Jean has gone back to sucking him, arm moving below what Eren can see.
“Good?” Eren asks, his voice a low gravely pitch.
Connie hisses and nods. “ Fuck yeah… oh fuck…”
“Yeah, he’s good at givin’ head… good at suckin’ you slow and deep… good at makin’ it feel so wet and hot.” Eren’s hips jump a little at his own provocative words and he stifles his groan before Jean can catch on to how desperate he is.
“Oh fuck… oh shit… shit that’s —” Connie moans out, blushing at the sound of his own voice.
“Got one in, you’re alright… breathe,” Jean commands hoarsely as he slides off Connie’s cock.
The man’s cock stands up straight, bright red and twitching.
“Shit that’s hot. Oh shit that’s so hot…” Eren won’t admit it even to himself, but his voice comes out like a whimper. And he starts squeezing Connie’s wrists tightly himself. His cock aches .
“Two now, Con. Doin’ well.” Jean hums lowly. “Why don’ you get your pants off Eren?”
Eren doesn’t need more than that, he lets go of one of Connie’s wrists and uses his free hand to tug down his fly and guide out his cock. Almost at once he feels it fill out the rest of the way, previously constricted by his pants.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Eren!” Connie sputters as Eren’s cock nearly slaps him in the face. He’s shocked it has weight , but he really shouldn’t be surprised judging by the size of the damn thing. Eren misunderstands his exclamation.
“Relax, I don’ shower ‘lot, but I use wipes,” Eren snorts. “Believe it or not I have mild standards.”
“Mark me down as surprised,” Connie grunts, but his half-lidded eyes don’t move far from looking at Eren’s cock. It’s definitely longer and obviously bigger than Jean’s but, now that the shock has worn off, it is not so much larger like Connie had thought it would be.
Definitely should have not watched so much damn gay porn when he was in highschool.
It strikes him that this is the first time he’s seen Eren’s cock up close; rock hard, veins standing out, dark and dripping. And he’s a little curious. Jean’s cock is out of sight and out of mind, but Eren’s is right there .
And in his inebriated state, he wants to touch…
So with his free hand, while Eren struggles to get his pants moved out of the way, he starts touching Eren’s cock with light and exploring touches.
“Shit…” Eren freezes in place, breath caught as he trades a surprised look with Jean. But Jean is busy pumping three fingers into Connie and simply gives Eren a nod up, encouraging him but also suggesting to go easy. “Yeah… shit that feels nice…” Eren whispers gently.
“Mmm?” Connie hums, his hand encircles the pink-tipped head of Eren’s cock and he squeezes a few times.
“Ohhh… uhhh — yup. Yeah that’s good. Fuck.” Eren does his best, but he can’t help thrusting into the tight grip.
Connie smirks and then his face goes blank with pleasure.
“Found ya…” Jean mutters with smugness. His fingers start a slow and steady pattern of rocking, and Connie is … lost .
Eren can’t help but feel the pleasure sympathetically, just watching Connie’s head loll back and his mouth part in a low moan. His hands move to hold Eren up at his forearms, clutching tightly, biceps flexing as his hips move with Jean’s motions.
“Oh fuck… Oh shit — what is that?” Connie manages to gasp out between moans and gasps.
“That — is why guys have butt-sex,” Jean informs him and then ups the pace of his fingering to a double speed-punch, hitting Connie’s prostate each time relentlessly.
“Oh! Oh! Oh fuck! ”
Eren holds Connie by his elbows and sighs as nails dig into his skin. He loves the sting of it. He loves seeing Jean’s strong arm, blue veins bulging on white skin, muscles flexed while he moves like a jackhammer into Connie.
“Is — is he ready?” Eren asks hoarsely, because he can hardly wait.
“Yeah, I think so.” Jean slows his finger-thrusts again, and the tension in Connie’s body drops along with his hips.
“Oh god,” He’s panting, out of breath and shaking like a girl. “I need you to fuck me. Right the fuck now.” Connie’s eyes are still shut tight.
“Right. Hold him.” Whomever Jean was addressing didn’t matter as both Eren and Connie clutched tighter. Jean lines his cock up and then …
Sinks.
In.
“Oh. Oh god, you’re tight…” Jean hisses, his body shakes, and he pulls back before repeating the motion.
Connie whimpers. And then starts crying.
“Oh my god. Oh my god… Oh god… Sasha.”
“Shh, shh. We’ve got you, Con. We’ve got you,” Eren whispers, and draws a soothing circle on Connie’s arm. “She watchin’. She watchin’ ya.”
“Oh god, fuck . He feels so good, Eren.” Jean groans and then leans forward on his arms, adjusting his position so that he’s on top of Connie — and in the perfect position to kiss Eren.
Eren leans forward and accepts the kiss, tangling his tongue briefly with Jean and tasting vodka.
“Fuck him. Fuck him good.” He demands darkly, the way he knows gets under Jean’s skin.
Jean shivers, his eyes dark with arousal, and he nods before returning his attention to Connie.
The buzz-cut Russian whimpers , and Jean leans down to press his lips on Connie’s neck, kissing up as his hips begin thrusting in earnest.
Eren watches.
And listens.
And watches .
And then simply can’t watch anymore.
He shifts and Jean gets the hint to wait. They readjust. Eren gets on his knees and leans Connie’s back over his thighs while hooking Connie’s arms around his waist.
His cock lays heavy over Connie’s left shoulder, twitching and leaking, and Jean gets the hint.
This time he leans down and takes Eren’s cock into his mouth as he thrusts into Connie’s ass. Eren uses his hands to twist and pinch at Connie’s nipples and occasionally brush through Jean’s hair, moving it out of the way.
Not enough can be said about how well Jean does his job. Both of them. He fucks like Connie is the only person on his mind. And sucks Eren like he was being graded for it.
Some habits never die.
“Shit! Jean — I’m…” Connie suddenly jerks up and convulses, dislodging Jean off of Eren’s cock as pleasure hits him out of nowhere; Jean having managed to hit his prostate right on. “Oh god! Oh fuck!”
“Keep goin’; keep hitting him!” Eren growls, feeling primitive with how badly he wants to see Connie break under pleasure. He refocuses on Connie’s body, touching his ribs and his nipples and tightening every chord on the man’s body.
Jean thrusts again and again… and again.
And Connie is gasping, sobbing; tears are dripping from his eyes as his breath catches in his throat and he hovers, suspended in air for a moment. His body is desperate to escape the overstimulation, and yet desperate to avoid any loss of contact.
“You can take it. You gonna take it… C’mon Con. Take it. Take him .” Eren moves his hands to hold down Connie’s shoulders. And the man breaks, sobbing and falling …
Falling .
His body is on fire, the vodka is surging in his body; the world is spinning. The pleasure and pain intermingle; Jean and Eren aren’t even there for all he knows. He’s sinking, two large shrouds like great expansive oceans closing over him.
Something ramming into him, filling him with pleasure and need and oh god. It’s Jean’s cock, surging inside him, filling that gaping emptiness, filling him till he’s choking on it.
Something holding him, securing him, bracing him. Eren’s hands tight on his wrists like chains holding him, ensuring he doesn’t drown in the sudden whirlpool that formed in the midst of tangible memories and her voice.
He’s drowning in them now. In Jean and in Eren. Filling up with them and sinking into their bodies because he’s just a hollow shell of a man. Skin and a frail skeleton. And he’s being flushed full of life again. Drowning in life.
“Fuck, wait. Stop. Stop!”
In one clean movement, Jean pulls out and stands up, groaning at the sudden denial and breathing harshly as though he himself had been drowning. “Oh fuck,” he gasps, hands in fists. “Oh fuck. You —” He swallows and turns to look at Connie. “You good?”
Eren adjusts so that Connie can sit up, the man is shivering violently. “What’s wrong man? It hurt?”
“No —” Connie struggles to breathe for a moment and wipes his mouth, grossed out by how much he’d been drooling and crying. “No. Was good. Just… was ‘lot.”
“Good call. Take a break. Y’want water?” Jean offers, moving towards the kitchen. His cock is so hard it’s red and he’s shaking.
“Nah. Nah, I wanna ride you.” Connie says. Leaning back on his arms weakly as the world swims between dreams, phantoms of a red-haired woman, and a foggy glimpse of reality.
Eren coughs to hide his sudden gasp, and Connie turns to him with mild amusement and something deeply unsettling in his eyes. “I wanna ride both of you.”
“Dude. You’ve never taken it up your ass before today and you wanna double dog it? You ain’t gonna sit straight for a year,” Eren scoffs, he trades a look with Jean but Jean is far too busy looking at Connie.
There’s that small wrinkle between his eyes that tells Eren he’s doing his fucking best to think straight but is not really managing it and for once Eren feels the most sober of the group.
“Bro, you can’t—”
“Jean. The vodka,” Connie orders.
Jean reaches toward the drink before thinking better of it and only when it’s in his hand does he seem to reconsider. But Connie is already standing up and grabbing the bottle from Jean’s hand.
“I said. I wan’ it,” Connie mutters, swaying slightly as he sips from the bottle. He gasps and gestures with the bottle at Jean and Eren in a sweeping motion. “I wanna ride both you idiots. I don’ give a fuck if it hurts. I wan’ it t’hurt.”
Jean bites his lip and Eren feels mildly disappointed that his boyfriend is legitimately considering following through on the command. He runs a hand down his face and sighs before getting up and shucking off the rest of his clothes.
“Jean. We ain’t doin that. Dude’s not even able t’think right.”
“We could… work something out. He’s flexible…” Jean mutters, looking at Connie’s body with something between appreciation and need.
Eren curses and moves to grab at his boyfriend’s arm, tugging on him a bit harshly until Jean swings around and looks at Eren with mild annoyance. “What—”
Eren kisses him, harsh and dirty. Biting at his lip till he nicks the skin and hears the alarmed grunt from Jean’s mouth.
“Dude what the—!” Jean can’t even finish his words as he’s being man-handled right down into the mattress face-first. Eren spares a glance towards Connie who is draining the rest of the bottle and then grinds once against Jean’s ass meaningfully.
“You too damn horny t’think right. So imma fuck you while you fuck Connie. Yeah?”
Jean struggles for a moment and then stops, considering the offer. He turns his head to look over his shoulder at Eren, panting from the force Eren presses into his back. “Yeah… alright. Sure. Bareback and dry?”
“Don’t be a fuckin’ idiot,” Eren scoffs. “Con, where’s the lube?”
Connie tosses the empty bottle in the vague direction of the kitchen and they hear it shatter. “S’here.” He trips onto the air-mattress and fumbles between the soaked blankets until he retrieves the lube and condoms.
“Thanks,” Eren mutters, grabbing the clumsily handed lube and slapping three fingers worth onto Jean’s ass. He starts with two fingers and moves to three after only four thrusts.
Jean sounds like he’s struggling to hide his pain but Eren doesn’t pay too much mind; it’s what Jean wanted — actually, Jean wanted worse. This is a courtesy.
“Can I stick it in?” Connie slurs, laughing at himself as he lays on his back, staring at the ceiling.
“Yeah — sure. He’d like it I’ll bet,” Eren grunts, pulling out four fingers and slapping Jean’s ass.
Jean takes the hint and turns around, presenting himself for Connie who had struggled up on his knees. The man grabs at Jean’s hips clumsily and then seems to realise that with both hands occupied he can’t quite guide his cock up into Jean’s hole.
“Oh — hmm…”
“Here.” Eren moves again and comes up behind Connie, taking his cock and running his hand up and down the length a few times. He’s seriously surprised it’s hard enough for the act at all.
Carefully, he guides Connie’s dick to rub up and down on Jean’s ass, rutting the head up against his boyfriend’s furled hole until he spear-heads it right in. Connie lets out a high-pitched gasp and Jean sighs in relief.
“Y’gotta fuck him hard, bitch went into heat fuckin’ you and can’t think straight,” Eren whispers at Connie’s ear, feeling the man shudder and taking perverse delight in the reaction.
“Yeah… yeah,” Connie slurs. He starts moving his hips in and out, the motions uneven and instinctive. Eren watches for a bit and then guides one of his hands down between Connie’s legs, slipping a finger into the man’s still loosened hole.
“Ah!”
“Keep it goin’ Con. C’mon.” Eren’s finger sinks deeper, and gets joined by another on the third thrust. He reaches that smooth round bump inside of Connie, stroking it and hearing Connie moan high and sweet.
Jean falls flat on the mattress, the temptation of grinding down into the mattress a little too much to withstand. The new position takes a minute for Connie to adjust to, but he does his best.
Eren knows it’s only a matter of time before Connie or Jean get sick of their positioning and he’s busy thinking if it might be better for Jean to fuck him when suddenly Connie pulls out muttering ‘shit shit shit’ .
He’s fucking pissing all over Jean suddenly and Eren can do literally nothing but laugh.
“Oh for fuck’s sake—” Jean, quickly realising this is not Connie cumming, rolls over and gets out of the danger-zone.
Connie doesn’t seem fully aware that he’s pissing, but he also seems aware enough to be embarrassed about it.
“Shit… oh — f-fuck it — oh sh-shit it’s everywhere. Fuck sorry,” his voice is inappropriately soft for the moment, his hands clumsily grabbing to cover his cock as he fully wets the bed.
Eren and Jean trade looks and Eren finally sees Jean’s cognitive function kick back into gear. The boy runs a hand through his hair only realising in the process that his hand is wet from Connie’s piss.
His mild grimace is the only clue that he registers that at all.
“Hey Con, you’re all good man, it’s fine.” He gently moves to touch Connie’s shoulder. “ It happens. Happens a lot first time for uh… like when guys have sex. It’s normal. We’re chill.”
Connie hiccoughs and then falls down on his hands and knees gagging and then quickly, vomiting up all the vodka he’d just drank.
Eren and Jean curse in tandem.
“Shit.”
“ Shit .”
They move quickly, Jean slipping on his sandals and going into the kitchen to get water, kicking the glass out of his way in the meantime while Eren moves to run a hand up and down Connie’s back.
“Hey, you’re good. It’s all good. Breathe. Breathe…”
“Oh my god. Oh fucking god…” Connie gasps thickly, spitting and then wiping his face with his hand, weak as a child. Eren thrusts an arm across Connie’s chest to prevent the man from falling face-first into his puddle of vomit and piss.
“Hey, at least you pulled trig early on — spare you the headache or the hospital trip, yeah?” Jean says, coming back with a cup of water.
Eren gently guides Connie off the mattress and to sit between his legs, back against his chest as he leans on the couch. Jean sits on his side and hands the cup to Connie.
“Drink,” Jean says quietly and Connie complies as well as he can.
“Sorry…” he mutters, pressing the glass to his lips. His eyes are bloodshot with tears.
“Shut it. You good. Just… just drink” Eren whispers and holds Connie a little tighter against him.
“Should we shower him?” Jean asks softly, glancing between Connie and Eren.
“Man, don’ be an idiot. We all get in that shower, nun’ of us comin’ out in one piece,” Eren says, mildly annoyed. Connie dribbles water all over his chest as he tries to drink.
His eyes are far gone, Jean can see that. Lost in some grey haze of memory and pain and now, shame. He looks at Eren and shoves a hand through his hair again. It’s filthy and he feels disgusted with himself, but it’s a nervous tick he can’t really kick.
“We don’ all need to get in with him…” He starts. “ We could draw him a bath, you hold him. I’ll sit out.”
Eren grimaces as Connie’s body lurches forward and the boy throws up the water he just drank, and then proceeds to throw up the bile from over twenty-four hours of not eating.
“S-sorry…” Connie groans. The hand holding his cup is shaking so bad Jean simply takes the cup away. It’s empty anyhow.
“Shut it. You’re fine. Told ya’.” Eren runs his hand up and down Connie’s naked back soothingly with one hand, the other still pressed comfortingly against the man’s chest, feeling his heartbeat alongside each lurch of his stomach — dry heaving at this point.
Eren turns to Jean and leans his head back onto the couch. “Run the bath. He’s gonna start shiverin’ soon.”
Jean nods once and presses a kiss to Eren’s forehead, a move disgustingly affectionate and Eren’s lip curl says as much. The man hates it and loves it.
“Get, white boy.”
Jean doesn’t need to be told twice, but he’s grinning the whole way to the bathroom.
“Y-y’all fuckin’ gross…” Connie groans, coughing a few times and spitting between his legs onto the floor.
“Y’one to say anything,” Eren scoffs. “You’re literally sittin’ in your own spit, piss, and vomit, bare-ass naked between my legs, right up against my cock.”
“Forgot t’mention I’m drippin’ lube outta my asshole,” Connie adds weakly.
“Oh, my bad.” Eren could not have sounded more sarcastic.
They sit quietly for a while, hearing the bath fill up, feeling each other’s heartbeat settle. Eren moves his arms to gently hold Connie by his hips, giving the man more breathing room now that he’s not at risk of falling face-forward to the floor.
Eren’s still a little hard; the hot-soft skin of Connie’s backside squeezing right against his cock is more than enough to keep him interested (a lack of anxiety due to being in this position so many times probably has a lot to do with it too).
Connie lets out a long sigh and leans forward, pulling his legs up so that he can lean on his knees. “Well, that was shitty.”
“We can give it another go after your bath,” Eren offers; he wants to lick a trail up Connie’s spine.
“I— I’m just glad she — fuck, I hope she wasn’t watchin’. I look pathetic.” What Connie says is objectively humorous, but the way his voice breaks. The way he sniffs and rubs a hand against his eyes is anything but funny.
Eren holds his breath for a moment, thinking hard. He doesn’t want to push Connie, obviously he doesn’t. But he doesn’t like the way Connie is rocking slightly, the way his sniffles have become sobs again, or the way the man’s shivering and shuddering makes a deep, rolling sickness stick in Eren’s stomach.
So he stands up and then turns around to help Connie up on his feet. The man is so unsteady because of his tears and drunkenness that Eren would have done himself a favour to just bridal-style carry Connie to the bathroom.
But the man has had enough humiliation for the night.
“C’mon. Bathroom now, Con. Watch your feet.”
Jean stands at the doorway, wearing a towel around his waist, as he watches Connie and Eren make their way to the bathroom.
Eren’s incredibly patient, only guiding and supporting and never carrying. Jean couldn’t have said that he’d do the same in Eren’s position. He’s too much of a fucking nanny.
The bathroom is steamy and smells of soap and cleanliness and it is such a relief from the gross scents of the living room: piss, vomit, vodka and trash that hasn’t been taken out for seven days past when it should have.
“Get in first, Connie can lean on you that way,” Jean says softly, meeting Eren’s eyes. He shivers at the heat and playfulness in the other man’s gaze.
“Now y’givin’ orders too? This your plan all along? Need to get me clean so bad?”
Jean smirks uneasily. “Would be an improvement. Just be happy I don’ cut your locs while you sleep, how long have you not washed them now?”
Eren scowls at Jean while getting into the bath, the water is just that side of too hot and he hisses at the searing, itching pain. “Y’aint supposed t’wash them like your hair, horse-face.”
“I know that. But it’s been two months, Yeager.” Jean guides Connie into the tub, a little too mother-hen as he ensures the man’s legs don’t bump against the rim. Connie sinks into the water without seemingly even registering the heat. His skin turns pink right away though.
“Fuck it’s hot,” Eren cusses, adjusting so Connie can sit between his legs again. Jean sits on the rim of the tub and hands Eren a bar of soap.
“Don’ drop the soap, Eren,” he says gravely.
“Oh my god. Fuck off,” Eren groans, and Connie lets out a cry-laugh.
The water is so hot. And the hands touching him are so warm.
And the world is melting .
Connie swears he can see her.
Standing at the open door; arms crossed under her breasts, hips cocked, that ever-present smile on her pink lips. Her red-stained hair is frizzy from the steam of the room, or from a day of work bathing the dogs.
Ya’ look so stupid, Con! She giggles; voice like music and like everything wonderful in the world. We gonna watch that dumb anime with dinner tonight?
Connie nods silently. Tears feel cold against his hot face. Hands roam his body and he doesn’t know who they belong to.
It’s that one with the naked baby giants, yeah? She asks, now with a bag of potato chips. You promised it was gonna be good. Y’know if it isn’t, imma have to take revenge. She smirks, and the world looks pink and yellow. We’re gonna watch Mean Girls again if I don’ like it!
“You’ll like it. Yeah, I promise…” Connie murmurs and remembers with a pang that they never made it through season two.
Because she died.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck! Ohfuckohfuckohfuck, Sasha…” Connie’s voice breaks and other floating voices try to reach him, pull him, move him.
Eren holds Connie in his arms, feels him shaking and crying, but knows that Connie is gone . So far away from the present he might as well be floating seven metres high.
Jean is biting his lip so hard it’s gonna bleed. His boyfriend is anxious and worried, that much is obvious. Eren’s fits he knows how to handle now, but Connie is different. Connie doesn’t just want a fuck, a smoke, some weed…
Connie wants, needs , more.
Connie doesn’t need a distraction right now.
“Jean. Get him out and into bed, yeah?” Eren says softly, tapping his boyfriend’s leg which is bouncing restlessly.
“You sure? He’s —”
“Get him in bed,” Eren interrupts, squeezing Jean’s knee once with meaning. “Get him some pillows t’hold and just… lay down with him. I’ll shower and meet ya’ both there.”
Jean nods, his cheeks pink from the heat. It’s with some difficulty that he and Eren manage to get Connie up and then Jean leads him to the room.
He grabs a clean towel as they head to the bedroom where Connie and Sasha slept, mostly abandoned as Connie has taken to sleeping on the couch. The memories here must be painful, Jean thinks.
But it’s been a year and any traces of Sasha’s scent are long gone. Jean guides Connie to the bed, and as the man sits (seeing nothing, seeing ghosts) he busies himself with drying his body off.
Feet, up calves, knees, thighs, limp cock, stomach, chest, underarms, down each arm, up the shoulders, down the back…
“I thought—,” Connie starts suddenly, his voice a harsh, low rasp. “I thought it’d get better by now. S’been a year.” He chokes suddenly, pinching his eyes shut. “A year…” he whispers, frail and high.
“Grief takes a long time,” Jean starts uneasily, he’s not confident he’ll say the right thing. “You do good some days. And other days you don’t. Just — remember y’aint the only one who remembers her. An’ you can talk to us about her.”
Connie isn’t shaking as bad. He’s holding his arms in a self-hug, but he’s listening and Jean counts that as a win. He goes digging in Connie’s dresser for some underwear, hearing the shower and the sounds of his boyfriend cleaning off. “If we all remember her — then in a way… she’s still alive inside us, yeah?”
Connie shakes his head, despondent. Jean worries he’s said the wrong thing so he just does what Eren told him to do. He pulls up Connie’s underwear and guides the man into the middle of the queen-size bed, soft like a cloud.
Sasha liked soft beds, Jean recalls suddenly. She saw him and Eren sleeping on the floor after a particularly active night and laughed with Jean when he woke up, over a cup of warm coffee.
I literally could never. My neck would hurt so bad, I mean it hurts just lookin’ at you and ‘Ren this morning! Y’all are wild for that I swear .
Jean finds some spare pillows and takes one to stuff into Connie’s arms. The man is already in the foetal position, arms tight against his chest, face buried into his pillow. He holds onto the pillow like it’s a life-raft.
Jean doesn’t feel clean enough to get under the covers, but he lays over them, and holds Connie over the blanket. Feeling inappropriately nude, but he doesn’t want to leave Connie. Not like this.
He uses his hands, running them up and down Connie’s cooling skin, fingers going against the grain of his hair. And slowly… so slowly… Connie relaxes.
His death-grip on the pillow goes lax and he leans into Jean’s touch. There . Jean thinks. That’s good.
It took a long time for Eren to find comfort in his touch too.
There were far too many reasons why. Eren wasn’t gay (he wasn’t straight either but he didn’t talk about that). Jean was white, enough said. Eren’s been hurt; so much . There was a period of time that, after so many times getting his touch brushed off, so many times getting his hands swatted away. Jean had worried he’d just need to give up on it.
But then Eren melted. It took an overdose, it took so fucking much. So much hurt and for his own best friends to say enough, we can’t anymore until finally Eren broke down and took what Jean had been offering him.
And he took it all.
And he started to change. His eyes brighter, his smile true for once. And the shadows in his heart started to recede.
Eren is beautiful when he is healing.
Speaking of the devil himself… Jean blinks and suddenly he is being kissed awake, unaware that he’d ever been asleep.
“Hey,” Eren whispers softly against Jean’s lips. “How you holdin’ up?”
“Good.” Jean blinks and reaches over to caress Eren’s face, fingers gentle against soft skin. “You smell nice. Look good too, you shave?”
Eren smirks playfully and twists his face to bite at Jean’s thumb. “Yeah, brushed too. Used your toothpaste though, mine’s nasty.”
Jean sits up and takes a proper look at his boyfriend, clean was an understatement. The man was shaved, washed, refreshed, and — oh the shave went all the way down, huh?
“Damn… you look way bigger shaved, and that’s sayin’ somethin’,” Jean huffs with amusement, reaching out to stroke down Eren’s naked hip and trace the prominent ‘v’ to his crotch.
Eren hisses quietly and glances at Connie before moving out of Jean’s reach. “Get your nasty ass in the shower,” his words don’t quite disguise his desire. That shows itself quite prominently in the subtle hardening of his cock and the fierce darkness in his eyes (and what Jean had learned was a blush on his face, hidden mostly by his dark skin but he could feel the heat of it, see the way Eren’s eyes shied away, the way his lips pouted a bit…).
“Fine. I’ll be quick.” Jean promises, jumping out of the bed and pinning Eren to the wall for a brief intoxicating kiss and a rude ass-grope before getting pushed off and rushing to the shower.
Eren runs a hand down his warm face and struggles to breathe for a moment, forgetting reality and doing his fucking best to calm the raging, painful blush that sears his face.
His cheeks feel sore from it for fuck’s sake.
Connie remains quiet. He heard their exchange, felt the vibration from when Jean pinned Eren to the wall, and it made him feel …
It makes him feel something between aroused and depressed. Something sweet and sour. Something red and blue. Fuck them for making him feel like this. Fuck them for putting him in this fucking bed. Fuck them for caring so damn much!
Connie keeps his eyes shut as he feels Eren sink into the mattress and uses the noise and sound to inch his way to the opposite edge of the bed. If Connie gathered enough wits about him to fully understand the undercurrent vibe then it’s probable that Eren and Jean want to fuck.
Who’s he to get in the way of that?
At least they have each other.
At least they — tried to let him in.
And he just embarrassed himself past redemption. Connie knows that the alcohol in his blood is diluting the shame and embarrassment he’ll feel after tonight; he knows that in a few short minutes he’ll be asleep, and if he’s lucky… if he’s really fuckin’ lucky… he might not wake up.
“Hey, Con?”
The voice comes from far far away. Soft, indistinct.
“Is he asleep?”
Another voice, getting fainter.
Murmurs. Like ripples in the water of the bathtub.
Suds of soap. Pink. Red. Dark deep blue.
Blood leaks through his fingers, bone cracking white and turning to dust; he feels it on his tongue, in his throat.
And her face, slowly, disappears.
“I think he’s asleep. He’s out.” Jean whispers, removing his hand from Connie’s forehead. “It’s probably for the best, I just wish he drank some water.”
“We can try an’ wake him in a bit,” Eren says, reaching over to stroke Jean’s hip. His naked, white skin is unusually bright in the dark room and feels soft as down. “C’mon, get over here an’ let’s finish what we started hm?”
“Eren. He’s sleeping, we can’t just …” Jean pauses as he turns to look at his boyfriend, laying up against the frame of the bed and lazily stroking his cock. Despite himself he swallows the saliva that gathers in his mouth.
“Naw, don’ stop there. Go on, white boy, what were you sayin’?” Eren croons dark and deep.
Jean’s blush is full-body (embarrassingly on display) and he crawls in front of Eren, straddling one of his thighs as he uses his hands to guide the man into a kiss.
They part wetly and louder than they should. “You really like gettin’ under my skin, huh?” Jean whispers, his eyes searching Eren’s face.
“Yeah,” Eren growls, hands coming to grab Jean around his waist. “I wanna get so deep under your fuckin’ skin. Wanna fuckin… eat you.”
Jean laughs in mild disbelief and then reaches down between them to stroke Eren’s cock; long, slow strokes that are fully just self-indulgent.
Yeah, so Jean’s a bit of a size queen. So what?
“Here, move…” Eren shoves Jean backwards till the man is laying flat on his back, his head at the foot of the bed. “You wanna get it tonight, huh?”
Jean nods and spreads his legs shamelessly. He wants it so fucking bad; his cock is hard as steel, and his arousal is liquid flame through his whole body. “Please.”
Eren groans softly and adjusts so that he can pull Jean’s hips closer to his own, and leans down to grind their cocks a few times together. “Fuck, say it again. Say that again, pretty boy.”
“Please…” Jean complies, his face burning hot, his cock leaking like a steady dripping faucet. “Fuck me, c’mon Eren, don’t make me beg.”
Eren wastes no more time and guides his cock up against Jean’s hole, rubbing the head up and down to spread some slick but quickly finding that Jean is not only loose, but fully lubed.
“Oh you —” Eren croaks in disbelief.
“Yeah…”
“Oh fuck, oh fuck .”
Eren shoves his cock in and Jean slaps a hand to muffle the scream that gets pressed out of him. Eren is a monster for not taking it slow but he just keeps pushing in. All his fucking length, all of it getting shoved so deep into Jean.
Jean feels full and whole and held . The image of being skewered briefly comes to mind and he laughs-sobs through the gut-rolling thrust Eren performs on him.
“Ohh that feels g-good; oh fuck that’s perfect … yes… ahn!” Jean bites his hand, muffling another scream as Eren grinds in a slow torturous circle, his cock hitting every fuckin’ inch and then some .
“Ah shit, shit, fuck!” Eren hisses and pulls out for a moment, slapping his dick a few times on Jean’s thigh, a move Jean came to recognize as a surefire way for Eren to increase his stamina. “You feel too good tonight; feel fucking perfect.”
“Shuddup and get inside me. Now.” Jean grits out, pinching his eyes shut as waves of need crash over his body. This time, Eren pushes in slowly, and leans forward to fall onto Jean’s body.
Jean welcomes the touch with the need of a man who hasn’t been touched in years (inaccurate, they fucked not even a week ago). He claws at Eren’s back, pulls the man into him, feels his cock throb, feels his chest throb, feels his skin pulse with life and with warmth.
He feels slightly chapped, plush lips trace up his neck; sharp teeth nip at his jaw until there’s a tongue tracing the seam of his lips and he opens greedily (like a baby bird, hungry, blind, and so fucking greedy).
Eren kisses him with a sort of messy and desperate finesse that Jean has still not mastered responding to. A part of him recognized a while back that there was no rhythm or rhyme to this particular kiss, Eren just liked putting him on edge like that.
Eren resumes thrusting, hard and fast, and he breaks their kiss as he pants against Jean’s lips. “Holy fuck you feel so good on my cock. You feel so wet and hot. Holy — f-fuck…”
Jean whimpers and feels Eren pulse inside him, and he whimpers again. Eren turns and kisses him; stealing his sounds, his breath, his voice, his soul.
They move in tandem, soft and slow, Eren slowing his thrusts to match the new pace they set for themselves, enjoying the intimacy in all its clean sweat and heat. Eren can’t fucking stop grinding into Jean’s body, his cock weeping a nile for how fucking good and tight it feels.
Fuck it feels so good Eren doesn’t want to stop.
Doesn’t ever want to stop.
Sex with Jean is the best drug he’s ever had.
“You’re shakin’,” Eren feels obligated to point out to his boyfriend, who is absolutely trembling under him, shudders of pleasure as his legs wrap around Eren’s back.
“Sh-shuddup.” Jean’s voice is a wisp of air, breathed out in a sigh so pretty Eren groans. He bites at Jean’s skin, leaves the white of it marked and red. Jean bats at his head weakly, his words of protest turning into a high-pitched moan.
“C’mon. I know you like it,” Eren grunts, shoving himself deeper for a moment and fuck it feels good. He grinds in a circle.
“Not the neck, Jesus Eren. I’m fuckin’ white, this shit shows for a long fuckin’ time.”
“Consider it part of reparations then, eh?” Eren talks over Jean and shoves himself in again, so deep he swears he can feel a wall of some sort in Jean’s body. The heat around his cock grows, swells, he feels himself edge and he glances down to see that, yes Jean’s balls are taut up against his body, he’s close too.
Jean is biting his lip so hard, Eren thinks it’s only a moment before he’ll see a pearly drop of red leak out between his boyfriend’s teeth. He focuses on Jean’s face, on how his eyes squeeze tightly shut, on the crease between his brows, the sheen of sweat on his face, making his skin shimmer and then…
He deals his killing blow, and wraps a hand around Jean’s cock.
“Oh fuck! ” Jean gasps, and his arms flail out clutching at the sheets as his body curls upwards. Eren wraps his fist tighter around Jean’s cock and ups his tempo.
“You gon watch yourself cum for me? Hmm? Wanna see yourself cum all pretty?” Eren can barely get the words out himself, Jean’s ass is clenching down on him and the look on his boyfriend’s face — holy fuck the way his body grows more desperate…
The way his hips pump up and down needing more of Eren’s fist, needing always more of his cock?
The way Jean looks at Eren and whispers, “Please, please… I’m right there… don’ stop. Don’ stop ‘Ren.”
Eren snaps his hips faster, harder, feeling almost aggressive with how fucking bad he wants to see Jean cum. They aren’t even trying to be quiet and Connie is right there in the bed — knocked out (hopefully).
Jean chokes on a gasp, whimpers and then gasps again as he cums.
“Oh! F-fucking god —”
“Yeah, fuck yeah… just like that… mmnh!” Eren groans and then fills Jean up, each jetblast of his orgasm making him bend over double. He barely remembers to catch himself on his free hand but Jean pulls him down until he crushes the man under him.
“Fuck…” Jean shudders, his hips still jumping under Eren’s body, clenching and milking his cock.
“Yeah… holy shit that was good…” Eren groans thickly.
“What the fuck …” Jean giggles, hugging Eren’s body close to his and rolling them over so that Eren is below him. “Holy fuck you jackhammered the shit outta me, dude…”
Eren laughs, loose and languid. He blinks and trails his hand up into Jean’s hair, threading his fingers between the strands of brass and gold (and a few silvers) and guiding Jean down to share a kiss.
When they part, soft and slow, Jean can’t help but look at Eren and savour the gorgeous image the man makes. Laid out under him, messy locs spread over the pillowcase, eyes heavy-lidded and dark, lips wet and inviting, dark skin glimmering with the sheen of sweat like he’s been dusted with fine glitter. Fuck, Jean can’t get enough of him, and helplessly traces his hand between Eren’s pecs, holding him at his hip and bending to kiss at Eren’s neck.
As always, he gets stupidly sappy post-orgasm. Then, with some sobering realisation, Jean turns to look at the figure laying in the bed next to them.
Connie is still dead asleep.
Jean sits back up on his heels, offering Eren a hand to sit up too as they both pause, catching their breath and watching the lump of blankets breathe.
Eren leans close to Jean and presses a kiss to his collarbone. “Jean…”
Jean lifts a hand and tangles it in Eren’s locs, pressing his boyfriend’s lips harder to his chest — the comfort is unimaginably pleasant. “Mmh, yeah?”
Eren lifts his lips up to mouth at Jean’s neck fondly, until he can nip at his earlobe. “He’s awake. You noticed?” Eren whispers soft as sin.
Icy cold and blazing hot liquid fight for dominance all through Jean’s body and he sucks in an alarmed breath. “How do you know?”
“You learn to read bodies, when you have to for survival,” Eren says, his hands slipping to hold Jean around his waist. “See his breathing? Too fast for someone who got knocked out with alcohol. Look at his position, he’s tense, holdin’ himself up and still. Ain’t nobody sleepin’ like that.”
Jean swallows. “What should we do?”
Eren parts from Jean’s skin and smirks at him. “Nothin’. We should sleep, an do him a favour let him jerk off, an pretend we don’ see him.”
Jean swallows again, glancing over to look over Connie’s body. How he had missed the uncomfortable position that the man was holding himself in was beyond his ability to reflect on. He bites his lip, wincing at how sore it is, and then turns to look at Eren from under his lashes, the way he knows will get his boyfriend to listen to him. “I think… we should let him use me.”
Eren startles, his face going through a series of expressions before he settles on confused. “Huh?”
Jean kisses him, bites at his lip, digs his tongue into Eren’s mouth and tangles briefly with Eren’s tongue. They break and Jean pants breathlessly against Eren’s mouth. “I want — I want him to fuck me. Want you to watch… want you to control it.”
“Damn, you bein’ real subby tonight…” Eren’s smirk says what he thinks of that and Jean can’t even argue.
“Fuck off. Just… wake him up.”
Connie winces, his wakeful state hadn’t gone unnoticed it would appear… Then again, was he really to blame? What was he supposed to do, interrupt them while they were lost in each other?
Connie vaguely remembers — feels more like he’s remembering a movie than his own life — what that feels like. To get lost in someone else’s body so thoroughly, so deeply, so fucking intensely.
He remembers the curve of her hips, the dips, the slopes, the curves, the swells and valleys of her body. He remembers the intimate scent of her, the curl of her hair, the texture of her skin.
He remembers the plushness of her lips, on his skin. On his chest. On his cock. The strength of her hands. The delicate force she used on him that never failed to get him to that edge of sanity.
Connie forces himself to roll onto his back just as Eren’s hand comes to move him.
“Oh. Hey man. How you feelin’?” Eren asks gently, a tad shyly as well.
Connie doesn’t look at him. He feels repulsed by Jean and Eren right now, but is too damn horny to make them leave. He wants to get off and then promptly cry. “Fine.”
Jean appears on his other side holding a cup of water out and a concerned expression only slightly fucked up by the way his hair is screaming sex. Connie’s throat feels dry so he struggles to sit up against the headboard, his head is heavy and fuzzy and he’s absolutely still drunk — but he just feels groggy and depressed now, not lost in a haze.
“Thanks…” Connie mutters as he takes the offered glass out of Jean’s hand. Jean nods once but his eyes don’t leave the man on the bed, concern leaking out of every part of him.
“So — voyeur? Wouldn’t have pinned you for it Con,” Eren teases, his grin edging on forced but his joke is genuine.
Connie drains the glass, hands it back to Jean before finally, slowly, turning to Eren and …
Staring at him.
He gets lost in the strange expression on his friend’s face. There’s care, concern, love if Connie dares to feel lovable for a moment. There’s something left-over that’s soft and molten, warm where it was once hot.
Ah — his post-orgasm state.
Connie finds it… hot, if he’s being honest with himself. There’s something so fucking hot about the way Eren’s got this satisfied aura about him, dark eyes half-lidded, full lips pulled back in a lazy smirk, deep umber skin glittering with cooled off sweat…
Yeah, fuck it.
Eren is a little unsettled by the way Connie has been staring at him — not that he feels judged, rather… watched or observed . He gets lost in the sensation so much so that when Connie suddenly grabs him by the back of his neck and presses him into a kiss it’s completely by surprise.
Eren adapts well to surprises though and quickly ups the passion, but slows the pace of Connie’s kiss. They trade licks and bites and part for air before coming back together again. He can feel Jean join them on the bed and it makes him want to perform… to show off.
He kisses Connie now conscious of being watched and ensures that he’s tipping his head at the right angle to give Jean the best vantage point.
Then Connie whimpers and his stomach flips with arousal and he forgets about acting entirely.
It’s fine though, Jean’s got himself busy with stroking up and down Connie’s legs, massaging them, smoothening his fingers over his dry skin. He wastes no more time in reaching up and groping at Connie’s semi-erect dick.
He’s getting oddly turned on by the fact that it’s through Connie’s clothes.
The sounds and sights of Eren kissing the fuck out of Connie and Connie responding with enough finesse to impress Jean are so arousing that Jean can’t help touching Connie’s cock as though it’s his own.
And that seems to work really fucking well.
“Stop — stop…” Connie gasps wetly, pulling away from Eren as he shucks his pants off. “Have to get — this shit off.” He mutters, stroking himself roughly and quickly.
“Do you want — you can fuck me…” Jean offers, struggling to take his eyes off of Connie’s pink cock. It’s really pretty.
Connie shakes his head and beckons Jean forward. Jean comes and they kiss, heavy, hard, and it tastes like salt.
“Ride me.” Connie whispers weakly.
Jean pulls back, enough to read Connie’s face, and whatever he sees Connie guesses it’s enough to make him nod once and turn around.
Connie feels something sink into his body; it’s similar to arousal but feels darker, slimier — fearful.
He pushes past it, he knows why it’s there. He wants to sink into her warm cunt not into Jean’s ass. There’s nothing wrong with Jean outside of the fact that he’s Jean and not…
But he doesn’t have her, does he?
He’ll never have her again.
Never feel whole again.
Something cool covers his cock and a hand (feels like Eren’s) strokes him a few times before holding him upwards. Connie feels warmth and then heat oh fuck such tight good heat.
It feels so fucking good.
So fucking wrong.
So fucking good.
He is biting his hand, the moans tumble out of his lips, from his lungs, from his stomach; he sounds in pain.
Jean is moving, it feels like fucking heaven .
It hurts like Hell.
Shit. Shh-it! Yes, fuck that feels good Con. Give it to me. Give it to me Papi! Fuck. Oh god — oh god! Uhn! Uhh! Ahh!
Her voice was the sound of devilish angels. The sound which became Connie’s everything . He couldn’t get off without it, without those sounds tumbling out of those lips from that fucking gorgeous woman.
She could ride him.
She could ride him.
Her hips swaying heavy and full on his groin, the weight of her shoving him so deep into her body he swore he could touch her heart from within. Her tits bouncing with every thrust, every jump. The way she’d mess with her hair because she loved how it felt and she lost herself in the pleasure.
Sasha knew how to feel good. The girl knew her buttons, knew her pleasure, knew her desire. She’d lift off him like he was a toy she was using, and she’d deny herself just as she got close.
Connie might as well have been tied and gagged for how little protest he offered. Truly, her endurance, her determination to stretch out her pleasure guided his own pleasure and desire and he wanted nothing else in the whole fucking world.
He had wanted her like a damn sex-crazed teenager. Fucking her in the kitchen, in the bathroom. Hell, Jean and Eren caught them more than once due to Connie’s lack of self control. He wanted that damn cunt. That perfect fucking girl.
And she somehow, somehow , wanted him back.
She’d been fucking perfect .
And the memory turned to ash. Ash that fell down, light grey, onto the pink strawberry shortcake, and turned dark grey.
Jean’s still fucking on him and it feels good — feels good enough that Connie grabs onto his hips, thrusts up three times and cums. He hears nothing.
“Oh fuck!” Jean’s moan drags out as he tosses his head back and whines at the feeling. Layering Eren’s cum within him with Connie’s until it spills out of him, creaming his hole and filling him up to the throat.
Eren’s holding his waist, just over where Connie is gripping his bones, and Eren’s whispering such things to him. Filthy praise laden sopping sweet with affection in the way that only Eren can do for him.
“That’s it, oh yeah, oh fuck yeah. Milk him dry, baby. Mmmh, yeah rock your hips into it, that’s a good boy… take it all up. Take it,” Eren croons, his voice like honey, dripping into Jean’s throat, so thick with arousal and pride and something so possessive Jean might as well be shackled to him.
Jean whimpers and shuts his eyes as he moves his hips in small circles until he feels Connie’s hands release from his hips.
Connie slumps back into the headboard and refuses to open his eyes for a good fucking minute. He knows what he’ll see.
Not Sasha.
Not her pretty cunt leaking his cum. Not her pubic hairs curled and stuck together with how wet she got.
Not her beautiful eyes, her sweet lips curved into a lazy, self-satisfied smile. Not that cute blush on her cheeks that made Connie push up and kiss her stupid after that delicious pleasure they made together.
Not her.
He feels cold air around his cock and then something very wet on it. The shock and the sudden concern that someone was licking his cock (it was just buried in Jean’s ass for fuck’s sake!) makes Connie open his eyes.
It’s just Eren’s hand with a wet-wipe. Jean is nowhere to be seen, and that fills Connie with so much self-hate.
He just used the fuck out of Jean as a cum-dump substitute for his … fantasies… and then just ignored him till he left. Holy shit Connie is a shit person.
“Where —”
“Don’ worry. He jus’ went to clean himself out. Doesn’t like it stayin’ in too long,” Eren says soothingly, his voice soft and a little deeper than normal.
Connie slumps again, he’d gotten so tense and had apparently pushed off the bed ready to — what? Chase after Jean? Apologise?
“Sorry… I should have … said something,” Connie says softly, running his hand up over his head. He forgot that he was bathed, his short-cropped hair feels soft.
Suddenly an overwhelming wave of affection for these two fucking idiots makes him tear up. They didn’t have to do any of this shit. They could have left him to his grief after fucking six months of this shit.
Like a shockblast of awareness, Connie finally sees just how much they’ve done for him.
The dishes he just never fucking washed suddenly clean on the dishrack. The trash, occasionally taken out. The bathrooms, almost always cleaned up and never gross. The dinners and ready-made-meals, the damn groceries, the consistent replenishment of toilet paper, tissues, and toothpaste.
The fact that there were no pictures or reminders of Sasha — all stored away in the back of the broom closet near the washer and dryer where Connie couldn’t see it unless he looked for it.
The fact that they were still fucking here despite it all.
The tears start flooding over and Connie can’t help himself. He falls forward, catching Eren by surprise as he sobs into his locs, arms wrapped tight around Eren’s neck.
Eren takes a whole fucking minute to pause and register the mood-shift. But his arms are already responding to Connie’s hug of desperation, running up and down his back even as his brain is still circling.
“Hey… Hey you good? You…” Eren gets cut off with Connie vigorously shaking his head and sobbing louder. Eren hugs him tighter, tosses the wet wipe away and adjusts so that the hug is easier and closer. “It’s alright… you’re alright…” Eren finds himself saying over and over.
Jean walks in on them like that, and his heart skips a beat, Connie’s face is so tear-streaked, Eren looking so shocked… the first thing Jean thinks is that he somehow fucked up by having Connie fuck him.
He’d hoped that it would be cathartic, not traumatic.
But then again, maybe those were cathartic tears? Jean carefully edges closer to the bed and sits at the corner to stroke up and down Connie’s head. He looks at Eren and asks him with his eyes: what the fuck?
Eren answers with a look so deep and meaningful that Jean translates it as: He needed this. He needed it .
Jean gets lost in his boyfriend’s glimmering dark sable eyes for a bit, wants to kiss him… (Fuck he’s so hot when he looks at Jean like this, like his dark eyes can see through Jean’s soul.)
He pulls his eyes away from Eren, with much difficulty and presses a kiss to the back of Connie’s neck. “Hey, you’re alright…”
Connie jumps up and looks at Jean with so much fucking guilt that Jean gets shock-blasted with confusion.
“I’m sorry — fuck I didn’t mean — I’m sorry!” Connie says, his face a mess of tears and snot and panic.
“Hey, hey, hey chill… you’re okay. What happened? Are you good?” Jean says, stroking up and down Connie’s arm in mild alarm.
Connie looks at Jean’s hand and back at Jean’s face with something between fear and confusion. “I — you… I thought… I didn’t mean to —”
Eren narrows his eyes and forces Connie to turn towards him, away from Jean for a moment. “You tryna say you feel bad for usin’ my man?” His brow quirks up challengingly and Connie’s blubbering is instantly silenced.
Connie tips his head down and nods.
Jean laughs a little in relief. “No Connie, it ain’t like that. I asked remember? I wanted to give you that. I thought —” Jean stutters but at an encouraging look from Eren sniffs and sighs before continuing. “I thought it might help get the last of the pain out. Cause I don’ think you’ve even masturbated much this past year. A few times maybe but not enough to… trigger I guess… the feelings back out.”
Eren nods and runs his hand in circles on Connie’s back. Pressing his nose briefly to Connie’s hair as he places a soft discrete kiss to the top of the man’s head. “You needed it. We wanted to give it. Ain’t nothing more to it.”
Connie chokes on another sob. Overwhelmed and horrified by the prospect of needing .
He gasps out: “Why?”
Jean trades a look with Eren and they both smile. Jean says: “Because man, we love you. And ‘cause you took us in when we were both at the lowest point. We were fuckin’ homeless man. You and Sasha helped us so damn much. We had nothing . Before you let us move in we were just hangin’ on East Maria and Rose streets.”
“I think I remember the literal exact place of our tent,” Eren interjects, shaking his head.
“Yeah… you don’t get it Connie. This shit is fuckin’ cathartic for us. Finally able to give shit back from how much you and Sasha just casually gave away. Dude the fact we ate you nearly outta house and home so many times…”
Connie shocks himself by laughing. “Sasha got so fuckin’ mad with you guys eating her snacks, was talkin’ about gettin’ a safe to hide them from you.”
“I managed to get some sense in this idiot, got him to pay more attention to what food he’s eatin’.” Eren nudges Jean with a smirk as Jean blushes.
“Can it. Don’ act like you didn’t drain the fuckin’ juice within like two days of us gettin’ it.”
Eren rolls his eyes and Connie could cry for all the affection he has for them. And cry again because she’s missing .
“I wish she was here. I wish…” Connie starts and breaks.
Eren leans in and holds Connie tighter, Jean rubs more sure patterns onto Connie’s back in Eren’s stead.
“I know.” Connie hears Eren say, and then hears Jean whisper. “She was — part of this. It’s missing her, I know…”
The four of them had teased, many times, both Connie and Sasha, Eren and Jean, about some sort of four-way thing happening in the house.
“We see you guys fuckin’ so much might as well join in next time, huh?” Sasha jokes one day after catching Eren on his knees for Jean. Eren didn’t even finish Jean off, he was too damn embarrassed being caught on his knees for a white boy. Jean didn’t mind, the glimmer in his eyes (a left-over from the high of domming Eren) didn’t leave for a second.
“Shut up — just admit you got a thing for watchin’ two dudes at it.” Eren swirls the water in his mouth and spits it in the sink. Jean is still hard and tenting his pants.
Sasha leans on the countertop and gives Eren a saucy smirk. “I ain’t straight, queer girls like queer boys. Connie ain’t straight as he likes to think either.”
“Oi, I can hear you, woman!” Connie shouts from where he’s playing his video game on the couch.
“And? You gon’ argue with me?” Sasha throws back and then, hearing nothing, smirks. “That what I thought.” She turns to Eren and Jean and says: “Think on it — we get hella drunk, get some music, turn the living room into a fuckin’ mess. It ain’t like you both haven’t given me eyes.”
“Nah! Those bitches gay as fuck, Sasha!” Connie shouts and then lets out a string of obscene cusses at the people on the other side of the screen.
Jean gives Eren a look. Eren shrugs. Jean turns to Sasha almost a little shyly. “I never been with a girl, honest. But Eren has. I wouldn’t mind givin’ it a try though. If you’re the girl.”
Sasha beams. Eren rolls his eyes. Connie continues to play his game but he’s smiling.
The beat of silence stretches and then gently snaps as Jean says softly: “She’d want us to stick together I think. Not want us to leave you…”
“Man, what you on? She’d fuckin’ skin us alive if we left him like that!” Eren jokes, laughing at the fucking fury he can see on Sasha’s face.
Connie laughs too, feels… something dislodge and float freely in his chest, where it had previously laid heavy and uncomfortable in his gut.
“Fuck, I’m tired…” he hears himself say and slump. Eren guides him down into the mattress almost at once. “Y’all can stay in bed if you don’ fuckin’ start —” Connie waves his hand in a circle in the air. “Fuckin’.”
Jean snorts and gets under the covers on Connie’s left. “Nah, I’m spent.” He curls around Connie and hooks a leg over Connie’s, throwing an arm over his chest before reaching down to pull up Connie’s underwear back into place. “This good?”
Connie gives Jean a look, soft and thankful before turning to look at Eren, still sitting and looking down at them. His face is thrown into shadow but his eyes still glimmer brightly.
“No…” Connie sighs and reaches out to tug at one of Eren’s locs, snapping the man out of his daze.
“Ayo! Owch!”
“Get in already, m’tired.”
“Damn, he bitchy after orgasm…” Eren mutters but gets under the covers as well and mimics Jean’s position.
They adjust a bit until all limbs are certain of positions where they won’t go numb and then suddenly the pall of sleep takes them all by surprise. Shutting their eyes, slowing their breaths and warming their bodies as comfort, in the wake of all that happened, lulls them to sleep.