Chapter Text
The call comes seemingly out of the blue and causes him to spill coffee everywhere. He curses, trying to mop up his now wet t-shirt with a nearby rag. Jean isn’t used to people phoning him, or maybe it’s that he just never answers when they call. Normally he would ignore it, but when he sees the caller ID flashing on the screen he knows that the phone won't stop ringing until he picks up.
He taps his smartphone to answer, but before he can even say, ‘hello’ the shrill voice of his mother screeches down the phone. She usually only calls when he forgets something significant or at Christmas. It’s not December so he knows whatever she’s saying is important, it’s just that he can’t understand what she’s saying.
“Hi to you too.” His eyes fall on the ever growing pile of bowls and glasses at his work desk. He really needs to clear that up.
His mother yells again. “Are you even listening to me?”
“I spaced out. Say it one more time?” He winces slightly at the loaded sigh she gives him.
“Are you bringing a ‘plus one’ to your sister’s wedding? I assumed you would be, after hearing about that young man of yours but I thought it best to double check.”
Oh shit. He totally forgot about that.
His younger sister was the first child of the current Kirstein generation to get married so it was kind of a huge deal to everyone. The announcement was made at a family gathering at his parent's giant house and everyone was there. Uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents, his nephew and of course the partners of all the above. He had actually been enjoying the gathering and the alcohol provided throughout the event until he walked passed the kitchen and overheard a conversation between his mother and aunt.
“I’m just so worried about him.” His mother had said. “I mean I’m fine with the gay thing. I really am. I’m just so worried he won’t find anyone the poor boy.”
“Maybe Jean just isn’t ready to settle down yet.” His aunt suggested.
His mother let out a world-weary sigh. “Perhaps. Maybe there just aren’t enough gay men around this area.”
Eavesdropping on the conversation lead to (many champagne flutes later) an announcement of his own. He told his entire family that he currently had a boyfriend of nearly six months, but both felt it best to kept it quiet until they both felt totally committed to the relationship. This, of course, opened the dam of endless questions. Who is he? How did you meet? Is he charming? What’s his name?
“You’ll be able to ask him yourself at the wedding!” Jean had laughed with a smile. Everyone was happy to hear the good news.
The only problem was that Jean didn’t have a boyfriend of nearly six months. His last romantic relationship was three years ago with this college roommate. He still doesn’t have a boyfriend, not even a fake one because Marco refused to pretend to date Jean.
“Jean!” His mother’s voice snaps him back to the present.
“Yes! Need a plus one. Got to go mom bye!” He hangs up quickly, chucking the phone onto the sofa on the opposite side of the room. “Oh shit.” He smacks his head in anger at himself. “Why did you say yes?” He asks himself.
He knows he’s desperate because he calls on Connie and Sasha for help - an unwise choice.
“Tell them you broke up with him!”
“I went into this whole thing about how we were waiting until we were serious to out the relationship. That’d be too embarrassing.”
“Tell them he’s working.”
“Connie, he’s gonna have to introduce him to his family at some point anyway may as well get it out of the way. Besides, knowing his family, they would probably move the wedding day just so he could be there.”
“Tell them you broke both your legs!”
“Yeah!”
“They’ll try visit me in the hospital.” Jean would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought that one through already. “And I think they’ll know if I heal too quickly. Connie don’t even think about offering to break my legs.” Connie slumps into his seat with a huff.
Sasha leans back in her chair. “So you either need to get a boyfriend who is willing to pretend you’ve been going out with for a while or you can hire someone.”
In five minutes, Connie has his phone to his ear enquiring about gay male escorts and their prices. And that’s how Jean meets Armin.
Armin is not what Jean expects. He looks like sunshine poured into the body of a 5”5’ man-child. He smiles and waves Jean over when the taller walks into the McDonalds that they agreed to meet. Jean sits down, the brightly colored chairs making him feel even more uncomfortable than he was when he walked into the building. Armin munches away happily at his fries, waiting for Jean to speak first.
Jean isn’t sure that’s a good idea because all he can think of saying is ‘I expected you to look like you hated the world, dress in a fishnet tops and wear guyliner not be blond, cheery and in a grandpa sweater.’
Instead he settles on “You aren’t what I imagined.” Because that sounds less offensive and stereotypical.
Armin laughs at that, a light laugh that sends flutters into Jean's stomach. He should see that as a warning but he’s too intrigued to care. “Sorry to disappoint.” His mouth wraps around the straw of his milkshake and Jean is so fucked because his voice is like summer and fruit teas. “Let’s skip the small talk and get to business.” That sentence hits Jean like a bus, reminding him this is business, not pleasure. “Am I here to make and ex-boyfriend jealous? Maybe you’re bringing me to a high school reunion or something?”
“A wedding actually.” Jean regrets not buying anything before sitting down because he has nothing to fiddle with.
Armin’s face lights up at that, eyes excited. “I love weddings! Who’s getting married?”
Jean’s arm reaches for the back of his neck. “My sister.”
“That’s so exciting! Will I be meeting her for the first time at the wedding? I need to buy a tuxedo. How fancy do you think the occasion will be? I don’t have much money but I’ll need to fit in. We need to set out some agreements don’t you think?” Armin talks all at once then stops suddenly. Jean’s finding it hard to keep up with how quick his speech is.
“Yeah. We should probably get to know each other better. I’ll answer and questions you have just,” Jean looks around him at all the people and grease covered surfaces. “Maybe not here.”
When Jean leaves the McDonalds five minutes later, he leaves with butterflies in his stomach, Armin’s number and another meeting with Armin two days later at his house.