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Their apartment was too small.
Well - it was too small for Jean. It suited Armin just fine, except for the cabinets he had to grab a stool to reach. Jean, on the other hand, had to squeeze around the furniture, was constantly banging his head when he forgot to duck under the doorframes, and he had to squat in the shower so he could get his hair wet. Armin called the place cozy. Jean said he was deranged.
Their bed was just a little smaller than a normal double bed - it was the only one they could find that would fit into the room with space for the other things they needed. Jean complained about it constantly, because his feet stuck out of the blankets and hung off the side. Armin loved it because the lack of space meant they were always cuddling up together. They didn’t have much money. Jean always said that as soon as they could afford it, they were moving to somewhere bigger, somewhere he didn’t have to sleep in that stupid little bed. Armin knew he loved it really.
In the mornings, Armin had to get up first. He worked in the next city over, and his commute was over an hour long. His alarm would go off at the carefully calculated time of five-fifteen. Armin didn’t need to start getting ready until five-thirty, but waking up the extra fifteen minutes early was always worth it.
Jean was a deep sleeper. When Armin’s alarm went off in the morning, he never woke up and he wouldn’t until his own alarms went off at five-minute intervals several hours later. But when five-fifteen hit, he always , without a doubt, wrapped his arms around Armin and pulled him in for a hug so tight Armin wondered every time if he would be able to get out. As soon as Armin turned off the beeping alarm, Jean’s arms would snake around his waist, holding him and humming in contentment. Armin’s back was always pressed against Jean’s chest, and Jean would bring his legs up like he was trying to envelop Armin entirely. When they went to bed, Armin was always the big spoon, and when they woke up, he always found himself lying small and cozy in Jean’s embrace.
Armin didn’t tell Jean about it. He knew exactly what he’d say. ‘It’s because the damn bed’s too small!’. He’d have that defiant blush on his cheeks, too, like he knew Armin could see right through his lie. Though, Armin supposed, he’d be blushing too if he had to admit that those were his favourite fifteen minutes of the day.
When winter came, they both became more eager to get into bed in the evening, and even more reluctant to leave when morning came. They couldn’t afford to have the heating on through the night so they relied on mountains of blankets and each other’s warmth to protect them from the cold air in their little apartment.
February was usually the worst. The sky got lighter earlier and earlier but the promise of springtime did nothing to shake away the cold that persisted throughout the end of winter. Jean was as reluctant as ever to let Armin go, and Armin found himself pushing sixteen, sometimes seventeen minutes before he slipped out from Jean’s embrace. He felt the cold more than most. When he stepped out of the shower and hastily dried himself off, he always found himself tempted to slip back into that tiny bed and spend the day in there with Jean.
Jean had Saturdays off. Armin worked every weekend. It was one of the most frustrating things about their schedule. There wasn’t a day in the week where both of them had the day off. Armin knew they were both working hard so perhaps soon Jean wouldn’t have to keep knocking his head on every doorframe, but sometimes it wore on him. But they spent those evenings together, and those blissful fifteen minutes of warmth.
They weren’t the type for large, romantic gestures. Armin preferred small, domestic displays of affection. The kind of love that built up slowly and snowballed into something so huge that no single deed could compare. Their love was in the little things, like notes he’d tuck away in the last place Jean would expect, or how sometimes, on particularly cold mornings, Armin would make a hot water bottle and tuck it into bed with Jean before leaving, just so he wasn’t chilly when he woke up. It was in every lunch that Jean made from scratch for Armin, every ‘I miss you’ text after just a few hours apart, every single time Armin came home with a steaming mug of hot chocolate waiting for him. Armin liked it that way.
It was cheesy, Armin knew it was, but he didn’t see the point in Valentine’s Day, because every day felt like they were celebrating their love. Jean could be a little embarrassed sometimes about his softer side, but he never hid it past the empty words that Armin could always see through anyway. Armin knew how loved he was. It was a feeling it had taken him a while to get used to, but he spent every day knowing just how lucky he had gotten to have found his person.
And it just so happened that Valentine’s Day fell on a Saturday. He and Jean had talked before about their plans, and they’d settled on just having dinner together at home. On Saturdays, they usually watched a movie together, so for Valentine’s nothing was going to be particularly different about their evening. Jean told Armin he planned on sleeping in, and then getting some work done around the apartment, maybe going for a walk if the weather was nice. It was as they spoke about it that Armin was struck with the urge to spend a day like that with him, and without telling Jean about it, Armin booked that Saturday off.
The night before, Jean kissed Armin on the cheek and they lay there in bed, tangled up in each other’s arms, Jean’s legs folded up under the blankets. Jean only complained a little bit when Armin put his cold feet on him, which Armin considered a victory. They fell asleep like that, just like they did every night. The only thing that was different was that neither of their phones had any alarms set.
When morning came, Armin woke up first. He wasn’t surprised. His body was so used to being woken up by his alarm so early that when he opened his eyes he instinctively reached to turn it off. Only when he picked up his phone, he saw that it was past six already, and he grinned a little to himself, curling deep into Jean’s arms, content in the knowledge that he could enjoy this for longer than fifteen minutes.
A short while later Armin regretfully snuck away to use the bathroom, but instead of having to start his day, Armin got to return to warmth and comfort. As soon as he was back under the covers, Jean pulled Armin close to his chest, his large arms wrapping easily around him. Jean pulled his legs up so that Armin was tucked neatly into the nook of his body, and he hummed contently. Once Armin had shifted a little and he got comfortable, he couldn’t help but agree. He thought he’d probably be happy to die of thirst in that too small bed if it meant he could stay there in Jean’s arms and never have to move.
It was already light outside. Armin could see the morning light peeking through the gap between the curtain and the window. That was always enough to wake him up, but Jean slept like the dead. Not that Armin minded - Jean was a lot more cuddly when he was asleep, anyway.
Armin spent the first few hours of his morning just lying there, curled up with Jean, reading a book on his phone. Every few pages he would glance down at Jean’s arms around his waist and smile. It was raining outside, but Armin liked the sound it made hitting the window. Lying there in the low light, listening to the rain and the gentle rhythm of Jean’s breathing created an almost meditative atmosphere, the kind of serene calm that made Armin hopeful for the future. Maybe, he thought, if they both kept working hard, they could one day own a house instead of an apartment. Armin would be able to hear the rain hitting the roof and not just the windows. They could have a cat, maybe, or if Jean got his way, a dog. Jean wouldn’t have to worry about too-small showers or hitting his head on the doorframes, and they could have a big bed, one that didn’t creak or strain under their combined weight. One where they both had room to stretch out.
Still, Armin thought, he would like it if they still cuddled up together just as much as they did now.
It was almost nine when Jean woke up. He pulled away from Armin and stretched, yawning, and when he realised Armin was there, he did a complete double-take and reached over to check the time on his phone.
“Armin,” he said, his voice still slurred by sleep. “What are you doing here?”
Armin smiled and scooted over to rest his head on Jean’s chest.
“Took the day off,” he hummed. “Thought I’d surprise you.”
“How romantic,” Jean teased, waking up a little as he reached up to run his fingers through Armin’s hair. Armin felt his whole body relax even more at the sensation. “Hang on. I thought you didn’t want to do anything special for Valentine’s?”
“I was the only day I could get off,” Armin lied, his cheeks pink, and when Jean chuckled, he knew he could see right through him. He supposed they had always known each other even better than they knew themselves.
“Sure,” Jean said, moving his hand so his thumb was brushing over Armin’s cheek.
“I love you,” Armin said quietly. He brought his hand up so it was on top of Jean’s, then slowly pulled Jean’s hand to his lips, kissing each of his knuckles.
“I love you,” Jean repeated, and Armin could hear how much he meant it. “Happy Valentine’s, Armin.”
Armin gave a half-hearted sigh, but he was smiling as he replied.
“Happy Valentine’s, Jean.”