Chapter Text
“Dude, what do you think?”
Eren jumped as Jean elbowed him, none-too-gently, in the ribs. He turned slightly to scowl at his friend slash frenemy. “What?” he hissed quietly, mindful of the performance in front of them. Jean rolled his eyes and pointed towards the stage.
“Him. What do you reckon? Good?”
Eren glanced towards the stage where a skinny boy with dreadful hair was attempting to play The Liberty Bell. “I dunno,” he answered with a shrug. “Maybe if he wasn’t so nervous…”
Jean elbowed him again and rolled his eyes when Eren glared at him with force. “You’re too nice. He sucks ass.”
Eren groaned. “Yeah, because you’re so brilliant. How do you know what sucking ass is like anyway?”
“Well,” Jean started, grinning, “you remember that girl from my cousin’s party…”
Eren clamped his hands over his ears and shook his head violently. “Not listening! Not listening!” He wondered if he could murder Jean with his eyes alone. During his little hate parade, Eren noticed that Jean was laughing and that everyone else was staring at him. Wincing, he removed his hands from his ears.
“Eren Jeager, will you shut up and show some respect for the students trying to audition?!”
Eren felt his anger shrivel under the heated stare he was receiving from one Armin Arlert, sophomore and drum major. Younger than Eren, but no less fierce despite his innocent looking blue eyes. Eren swallowed hard and bowed his head, cheeks hot with embarrassment. “Sorry.”
Armin sighed and turned back to the stage. Jean sniggered behind his hand and Eren presented him with a sharp slap to his thigh.
“I’m sorry,” Jean said, still sniggering and not sounding the least bit sorry. “I’ll take you on a date for that disgusting ginseng tea you like after practice?”
Eren rubbed gently at his temples. How did he end up in the same school as Jean Kirschtein, let alone in the same section in the same marching band? “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a girl and we are certainly not dating.”
Well, at least Eren was sure that Jean preferred girls even though he had come out as bisexual. He hoped belatedly that his outburst on which gender his friend preferred didn't bother him.
But of course it didn't. Because next thing Eren knew, Jean held his hand to his chest and looked at him in mock hurt. “You’re not a girl? But that ass!”
Eren gave up. He stood up to leave but was promptly yanked back down into his seat. Before he could escape or protest, Jean put an arm around him and squished him into a half-hug. “Come on, I’m sorry,” he whispered softly into Eren’s ear. “We can just hang out after practice and I’ll pay, okay?”
Eren tried to simultaneously lean into Jean's touch and pull away from it. He let out a noise of frustration. “Fine. But I want cake too.”
Jean smiled against his ear before he sat back. “Whatever you say, babe.”
Eren took a deep breath and turned back to face the next student standing nervously on stage. He entertained thoughts of beating Jean with his clarinet, then shoving it where the sun doesn’t shine.
---
As it turned out, hanging out after practice was pretty awesome. Eren and Jean met up with a few friends from band and headed into town to their favourite over-priced coffee shop. Not that Eren minded – he hadn’t forgotten Jean’s promise to pay.
“I need to think before I speak,” Jean muttered as he handed over the money for his iced coffee, Eren’s tea and a large piece of carrot cake. Eren just smiled his best angelic smile.
“I see Eren got away with it again.”
Eren looked up from his cake and grinned as he joined their friends at a table. The girl who had just spoken was Mikasa – senior, pretty, hard as nails. Tambourine. No one messed with her.
"Jean was being mean,” Eren said with an exaggerated pout. “So he bought me cake.”
“My poor allowance,” Jean mourned, sitting down opposite Eren and sighing dramatically. “Drained by cake and disgusting health drinks.”
Another of their friends, Reiner, snorted and patted Jean on the arm. Reiner was better friends with Eren, but he pretty much got on with anyone. Eren envied his ease with people. Reiner played the tuba and so commanded a lot of respect – not just anyone could carry round a huge hunk of metal and play it well.
Eren dug his fork into the cake and took a bite. “Mmm,” he moaned. “So good.”
Jean kicked him under the table. “No cakegasm in public, please.”
“Shut up.” Eren kicked him right back.
“Reiner, save me,” Mikasa pleaded. “They’ve started.”
Jean stuck out his bottom lip and fixed Eren with liquid eyes. “Seeing as I apologised and paid, you should let me have at least half of that cake.”
Eren snorted in disgust. “The puppy eyes won’t work on me anymore. Sucks to be you. And don’t even think about making that into a dirty joke.”
Jean closed his mouth and pouted even harder than before. “Pleeeeease?” he whined, staring at Eren with deep, imploring eyes. Eren tried not to shiver under Jean's gaze. It was kind of hard though, with Jean biting his lip and lowering his eyelids.
“Fine!” Eren said quickly. He looked away, face flushing, and stabbed a forkful of cake for Jean with more force than was probably necessary. “If it’ll stop you whining like a three year old, here you go.” He held the fork out and purposely didn’t watch as Jean slid his mouth and tongue over the treat.
“Yummy,” Jean said as he pulled back, half-muffled with cake.
Eren frowned and shoved more cake into his own mouth to cover his embarrassment.
“Indirect kiss,” Mikasa said flippantly. Eren flicked cake crumbs at her.
When Mikasa began flicking drops of cold coffee at Eren, Reiner decided it was time to step in. “Children!” he said loudly. “Stop that or you’ll all have to sit in the naughty corner.”
“Jean lives there,” Eren muttered darkly. Jean laughed, pleased. Mikasa punched Reiner in the arm.
“Anyway,” Reiner continued, rubbing his arm, “you all ready for the game next week?”
Jean leant back in his seat, foot tapping against Eren's under the table. “Sure am,” he said comfortably. “I think it’ll be a good one.”
“Confident, aren’t you?” Mikasa teased, poking Jean in the cheek.
“Like you guys don’t know it’ll be great," Jean said with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Eren interjected, “but we don’t all act like smug bastards about it.”
Reiner laughed and Jean smiled wickedly. Eren instantly regretted opening his mouth. “Whatever,” Jean dismissed. “I bring people to their knees with my sax.”
Eren groaned and resisted the urge to smack his head against the table. “You only started playing so you could say that.”
“Oh yeah,” Jean retorted, “because I was totally thinking about that when I was eight.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Eren said. He grinned at Reiner and they shared an enthusiastic high five.
“It’s okay, Jean,” Mikasa consoled, “we all know that you’ve turned perversion into an art form.”
Eren glanced at his watch and sighed. He pushed his chair back and stood up. “As much as I’d love to stay and talk about Jean’s fall from grace, I’ve gotta get home for dinner.”
“Aww, I wanted to watch you and Jean flirt for a bit longer,” Mikasa said sadly.
“We do not—“
“She’s just joking,” Reiner cut in gently, squeezing Eren’s hand. “Ignore her. Just bitter because she got turned down by Annie last week. Twice.”
Mikasa glared at Reiner. “Whatever.”
Eren swallowed down a smile and looked at Jean. “Still staying over tomorrow night?”
Jean nodded. “You bet. Is your dad making pizza?”
“Sleepover?” Mikasa said, instantly perking up. “Pizza?”
Eren coughed. “Uh, sorry. You know what my parents are like. One at a time. And yes, Jean, there will be pizza.”
Jean let out a whoop of joy while Mikasa wilted in her chair once again. Reiner ruffled her hair. “Nevermind, Mikasa. How about I come over to your dorm and we harrass Connie and Sasha?”
Everyone laughed when Mikasa perked up again.
---
Eren laughed through a mouth full of pizza as someone’s head exploded on the screen. “Dude, stop being such a pussy. You need to watch this.”
Jean stayed resolutely behind his cushion, stuffing his face with pizza under the protection of his makeshift shield. “You can call me whatever you want, I am not mentally scarring myself for no good reason.”
Eren looked over at him and rolled his eyes. “But it’s funny!” He threw a crust at Jean for good measure. Another head exploded all over the female lead’s rather impressive bosom. Eren laughed again, spraying bits of pizza and god knows what all over himself.
Jean watched him with disgusted interest. “Why do so many girls think you’re cute?”
“Huh?” Eren replied eloquently, staring at Jean with his mouth open and half a slice of pizza hanging out of it.
Jean smiled. “Never mind. Who could resist those green doe eyes, even with half-masticated dough hanging out your mouth.”
Eren swallowed and frowned at him. “What are you talking about? Speak a language I understand.”
Jean groped for the remote, still protecting his eyes with the cushion. He changed the channel and sighed in relief, tossing away the temporary faceguard. “Hey!” Eren protested loudly. “I was watching that!”
“It was too much for my poor innocent mind,” Jean said. “Plus—“ he glanced at the screen, “—Dancing on ice is way better.”
Eren flopped back into the couch and frowned at the sparkly-clothed men spinning around on the ice. Jean was insane for picking this over exploding heads.
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” Jean asked suddenly.
Eren turned his head to look at Jean wearily. “Not this again, Jean. You know I don’t care about that stuff.”
Jean held his hands up in defence. “I’m just asking. I don’t understand it. You’ve got some really pretty girls fawning over you and you’re telling me you’re not interested?”
Eren felt a blush creeping up his neck. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” he said quickly. “I just don’t have time, what with band and schoolwork. And I’ve seen all the grief Mikasa gets from girls. Who wants that?”
Jean studied him for a moment. Eren shifted awkwardly under the intense stare. “What? Is there sauce on my face?”
“I can’t tell,” Jean said, breaking out of his trance. “Your face is always the colour of sauce.”
Eren smacked him in the face with a cushion. “Asshole. Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Jean removed the offending upholstery and shrugged. Eren was surprised at the lack of greasy smile. “No girls are catching my eye at the moment.”
Eren's stomach jumped and he scowled down at it. “You feeling okay?” Jean asked. “Too much pizza?”
Looking up, Eren shook his head. “I’m fine, but—“ he caught the time on the bottom of the television screen, “—We should sleep. School tomorrow.”
Jean groaned and heaved himself up from the couch. “Why must you remind me? We’ve got another practice tomorrow as well.” He leant over to switch the television off and eyed Eren, still sat on the sofa. “I thought you wanted to sleep?”
“I do,” Eren said. “But I ate so much pizza that I’m a giant, fat blob and now I can’t move.”
“Oh, okay,” Jean said cheerfully. “Goodnight, then.” He waved at Eren and headed towards the stairs.
“You suck!” Eren whisper-yelled after him. He rolled off the sofa and dragged himself up the stairs. The sound of running water reached his ears, putting Jean in the bathroom. Eren headed to his room and started unrolling Jean's sleeping bag. It was actually Eren's own, but Jean stayed over so much that Eren had pretty much designated it as his.
“Is it weird that I have a toothbrush at your house?” Jean said, wandering in and half scaring the crap out of Eren.
“Why would it be weird?” Eren stood up and threw a pillow onto the floor for Jean. “It’s better than you using mine. Gross.” He shuddered at the memory.
Jean grinned. “You didn’t like sharing spit with me?”
“Shut up, unless you want regurgitated pizza all over your face. I’m going to pee.” Eren pushed past Jean and stalked across the hall into the bathroom. He used the facilities and then set about washing his face and brushing his teeth. Eren looked into the mirror above the sink as he brushed furiously. He and Jean were good friends. They were close, had been for years, and Eren trusted Jean completely. But sometimes Jean pushed a little too far, tested their friendship too much. Eren spat into the basin and rinsed, willing his thoughts to swirl down in the plughole with the remainder of his toothpaste.
Back in Eren's room, Jean was snug inside the sleeping bag, his nose, eyes and forehead just peeping out of the top. Eren smiled at the familiar sight. “Cute,” he said, closing the door and climbing across Jean to flop onto his bed.
“You’re cuter,” Jean said, muffled by the sleeping bag. Eren could tell he was smiling by the crinkled eyes.
“Thanks. Goodnight.” Eren turned off the light and rolled over, smiling to himself as Jean echoed the word back at him softly.
---
Halfway through the night, Eren woke up suddenly as his bed shook violently beneath him.
“Sorry,” Jean whispered. Eren's barely-conscious brain just about registered their close proximity.
“What are you doing?” he mumbled, blinking and trying to locate Jean in the darkness. “Why’re you in my bed?”
Jean turned over and Eren felt their legs brush together under the covers. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry, do you want me to leave?”
Eren sighed, heavy and sleepy. He reached out and squeezed Jean’s nearest available limb. “S’okay. If you can rest… just this once.”
“Thanks,” Jean said. “I’ll try not to cling.”
Eren snuggled back down and closed his eyes. “Tell anyone about this and you’re dead.”
Jean laughed and Eren smiled at the sound. He was already drifting off again and when he did, he dreamt of open doors and easy smiles.
When they woke up cuddled together, neither said anything. Jean grinned at him, face marked with sleep, and Eren didn’t feel weird at all.
---
“Who hid my fucking tambourine?”
Eren looked up from the music sheet he and Jean were studying. “What?”
“My fucking tambourine! Who hid it?” Mikasa practically growled, stalking around the room and peering under chairs.
Eren raised an eyebrow at Jean. “Was it you?” he whispered. Jean smiled in a way that Eren supposed he should interpret as innocent. He wasn’t buying it. “It was you.”
“Shh!” Jean hissed, still smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But if Mikasa thinks she’s looking in the right room, she’s wrong.”
Eren snorted and shoved at Jean’s shoulder, both of them sniggering like a couple of naughty boys. Which, Eren mused, they probably were.
“What are you two lovebirds whispering about?” Mikasa demanded, throwing herself down in a chair next to Eren. “I bet Floch hid my tambourine, that bastard.”
“Mikasa Ackerman!” Armin’s booming voice cut across the room. “If I hear you swear one more time, I’m going to shove your tambourine so far up your backside that you’ll be coughing bells for a week. As soon as you find it.”
Jean snorted extra loud and tried to disguise it as a sneeze. “Way to go, Arlert!”
“And you can shut up too.”
Eren scratched his nose to hide his grin. Jean opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted as Reiner lumbered into the room armed with his tuba, a tambourine and a very confused expression.
“Mikasa? Why was your tambourine in my locker?” Reiner set down his tuba carefully and waved the tambourine at Mikasa for emphasis.
Mikasa winced. “You’re doing it wrong!”
Eren and Jean shared a knowing look and both stood up. “We’re going to practice somewhere a bit quieter,” Jean announced, grabbing the sheet music and his saxophone. Eren picked up his clarinet from its stand and started to follow Jean out of the door.
Mikasa paused from trying to wrestle her beloved tambourine from Reiner’s grip. “Go fuck against a piano or something!”
“Mikasa Ackerman!”
Eren and Jean bolted from the room as a livid Armin stalked towards Mikasa. “C4?” Eren whispered. Jean nodded and ushered them into the biggest individual practice room. It was only empty because everyone else was in the main classroom. Jean closed the door behind them and Eren sighed in relief. He leant against the piano and Mikasa’s words echoed in his head. He frowned. “Why is she so crude?”
Jean looked up from spreading his sheet music out and smiled. “You know her better than me, you know she doesn' mean it.”
“Then why does she say it? Sometimes I think she hates me,” Eren said absently, gripping his clarinet tightly.
“How could anyone hate you?” Jean teased, kicking Eren’s foot gently. “I think she’s just jealous of our friendship. Not that she’d ever say it. She does know you longer, after all.”
Eren sighed. “Whatever. Let’s practice.”
Shrugging, Jean shifted over so Eren could see the music. They started to play. Eren forgot all about Mikasa and her confusing jibes and concentrated on the smooth sound of Jean’s saxophone, the way their instruments blended together. Eren loved music. For someone with so many words, Eren often found it hard to express himself. But then there was music, and Eren found he didn’t need to struggle for words anymore.
He hadn’t even realised that Jean had stopped playing until he felt eyes on him. Pausing with a stumbled squeak, Eren yanked the clarinet out of his mouth and flushed. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.
Jean grinned and shoved his shoulder lightly. “Yeah, alright, Mr Natural Talent. We all know you can improvise.”
Eren winced. “I didn’t mean to. I was thinking.”
“I know,” Jean reassured, grin gentling to a genuine smile. “I love it when you play from the heart.”
“I love it when you play, too,” Eren blurted out. Jean’s smile widened and Eren didn’t miss the tinge of pink in his cheeks. “Play the piano for me?” Eren asked, wanting to distract himself from Jean’s happy eyes.
“Demanding,” Jean whined. He sat down at the piano anyway, handing his saxophone to Eren. Eren laughed as Jean started playing a jazzy version of the Spiderman theme tune. He sang along anyway, even though he secretly preferred Batman.
A knock at the door startled Eren out of singing. Jean, however, wasn’t bothered, his fingers sliding over the keys without so much as a pause. Armin’s head poked around the door. “We’re ready for group practice now,” he said with a brief smile. “I need you two back in there before I really do make Mikasa choke on those bells.”
Jean turned and smiled at Armin, a happy little tune tinkling out of the piano. “Sure thing, boss.”
“Remember, party at mine this saturday. You guys need to relax before the game.” Armin winked at them and closed the door.
Jean did a little victory dance. Eren laughed at him. “Stop that, it doesn’t work.” He didn’t mention that Jean shaking his flat butt was sort of cute, in a stupid way.
“Sorry, we can’t all be Kylie Minogue,” Jean said, stopping his flailing and poking Eren in the chest.
“Who?” Eren said, confused.
Jean rolled his eyes. “She’s short with a perfect ass.” He ducked as Eren tried to slap him upside the head.
They shoved and poked each other all the way back to the main classroom. In the middle of the second song, Jean winked at Eren and Eren had to focus on not improvising.
---
“Should I have brought a date?” Eren said, fidgeting and smoothing down the sides of his hair as he and Jean made their way to Armin’s house.
“You’ve got me,” Jean said, shooting Eren a sly grin. “Why would you need a date?”
“Jean,” Eren whined. “Mikasa is going to give me so much shit for this.”
Jean licked his lips and shrugged. “Mikasa doesn’t have a date either.”
Eren frowned at him and rubbed his nose in frustration.
“Come on,” Jean laughed, “we’re band geeks, remember? We’re not supposed to have dates.”
“Speak for yourself,” Eren huffed. “You said loads of girls like me. And the thing you did at your cousin’s party…” he trailed off, blushing. Jean laughed loudly and Eren couldn’t help his smile. “What number does Arlert live at?” he asked, desperate to stop embarrassing himself.
“Fourteen.”
Eren pointed to a house across the street. “Think it’s that one?” All the lights were on, music blasting out of every open window.
Jean snorted. “Good work, Watson.”
“How do you get to be Sherlock Holmes?”
Jean beamed winningly. “You’re my short side-kick.”
Eren decided to let Jean win just once – he kicked Jean in the leg and darted across the road to Armin’s house.
Inside, the music wasn’t as loud as Eren first thought. There were loads of people there – all the kids from band, and a bunch of others he didn’t even know. Apparently Armin had even more friends than Jean. Which was not a surprise considering his easy-going nature.
“Boo!”
Eren jumped as Reiner grabbed him from behind, one arm slung over Eren’s shoulders. “Bro, you scared the crap out of me.”
Reiner smiled and handed Eren a cup of something. Coke-coloured and suspiciously strong smelling. “Sorry. Who did you come with?”
"Jean,” Eren answered, distracted by the burning in his throat as he took a long drink from the cup. “What the heck is this? Poison?”
“The more you drink, the better it tastes,” Mikasa said, cutting in and appearing in front of Eren’s eyes as if out of nowhere. “So I hear you came with Jean.”
Eren opened his mouth to protest when Jean slid an arm around Mikasa’s waist and kissed her on the cheek. “Jealousy doesn’t become you, babe,” he said, sending Eren a conspiratorial wink. Eren scowled in response and decided he needed another drink. He pushed through a crowd of giggling girls and headed towards the kitchen.
Two hours later, Eren was clinging to a doorframe and thinking that maybe he’d had one too many tequila shots. He’d felt weird when Jean kissed Mikasa’s cheek, and tried to drown the feelings in as many drinks as he could get hold of. It was probably just childish jealousy, he supposed. Jean was his best friend but he never kissed Eren.
“Eren?”
Eren slid down the doorframe a bit and shook his head. Now Jean was even talking to him via telepathy, he thought drunkenly.
“What are you doing down there?”
Eren looked up and squinted at Jean through hazy vision. “Why’re you a giant?” he slurred. Giant Jean laughed and crouched down in front of Eren. “Oh,” Eren said. “Now you’re normal.”
Jean snorted and pulled Eren up carefully. “Are you drunk?”
Pointing at himself innocently, Eren said, “Me? Nooo. Drunk on life!”, throwing his arms out and grinning. He watched as Jean tilted sideways. “Stop moving,” he said, waving his arms and trying to get Jean to stand still.
Jean snorted and grabbed onto Eren’s shoulders. “Oh my god, you’re wasted.”
The shorter of the two clung to Jean and looked him in the eye. “Don’t tell my mom,” he whispered seriously.
Jean hugged Eren close and snorted again. “I won’t, I promise. Why don’t you dance with Mikasa?”
Eren pulled back, albeit a little shakily. “What? Why?”
“Because she’s so terrible that it might make you focus on staying upright.”
Even in his drunken stupor, Eren managed to raise an eyebrow. “Does that make sense?”
Jean steered them through to the living room where a makeshift disco had been fashioned. Reiner and Bertholdt were flicking the lights on and off and laughing stupidly. Eren suspected that he wasn’t the only drunk one.
“Mikasa!” Jean yelled. “Eren wants to dance with you!”
Eren found himself being pushed towards Mikasa, who was spinning slowly in a circle and making weird rolling motions with her shoulders. She held her arms out when she spotted Eren. “Eren, my baby! Come and dance with me.”
“But, Jean?” Eren turned but Jean was gone. Probably off to find some poor innocent girl to hit on, Eren thought darkly. Probably the cute girl who played the flute and flirted with Jean all the time.
“C’mere baby,” Mikasa murmured. She pulled Eren into a hug. Eren wrapped his arms around Mikasa’s back and hung on tight as they stumbled around in little circles. “What’s on your mind that you’re so drunk, hmm?”
Eren blinked and tried to focus his eyes as the room spun around them. “Why doesn’t Jean kiss me?” he said suddenly. “He kisses you.”
Mikasa pulled back and stared at Eren. “What?”
Eren felt the colour drain from his face. “Mikasa, I think I’m going to—“ He was cut off as Mikasa turned him around and propelled him into Armin’s backyard. He was bent over a bush and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach over a gorgeous flower bed. “Oh shit,” Eren moaned between surges.
Mikasa touched Eren’s back, thumb stroking over the knobs of his spine. “Feel better?” she asked gently.
“No,” Eren answered miserably. He coughed a few times and then slumped down clumsily on the floor. “I feel like someone just ran me over. Twice.”
Mikasa eased down next to Eren on the grass and smiled knowingly. “Imagine how you’ll feel in the morning.”
“Thanks for the kind words,” Eren groaned. He sat forward with his head between his knees. “Why did I drink so much?”
“Because you want Jean to kiss you?” Mikasa said nonchalantly, deliberately looking away when Eren's head shot up.
“What?”
Mikasa glanced back at him and shrugged. “You just asked me why Jean doesn’t kiss you.”
Eren ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “Did I? It must have been the drink,” he said, wishing his thoughts would stop rushing around his head. The mix of alcohol and hormones wasn’t entirely too pleasant.
Mikasa looked away again. She pulled a packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of the pocket of her leather jacket. “Want one?” she asked, offering the packet to Eren. Eren wrinkled his nose and declined. Mikasa nodded and lit up, leaning back on one hand as she smoked. “You know Jean thinks you like me.”
Eren stared at her in drunken disbelief. “He what?”
“I know, right?” Mikasa chuckled and blew out a wispy plume of smoke. “He told me earlier that he thinks you’ve got a crush on me.”
Eren shifted awkwardly on the grass. “Uh, I do like you, Mikasa. I just don’t—“
Mikasa cut him off with a pointed look. “I know that, you idiot. I’m absolutely not your type, and I’ve seen the way you look at Jean. You’ve only got eyes for him.”
“Why do you always do that?” Eren snapped, suddenly irritated. “What’s your obsession with Jean and me?”
Mikasa stubbed out her cigarette on the floor. She slid closer to Eren and put an arm around his shoulders. “I know I make crude and unfair comments. I just. I can’t help it sometimes. I’m a little jealous.”
Eren unconsciously leant into Mikasa’s embrace. “Of what?” he said incredulously. “Jean kisses you!”
That made Mikasa laugh and squeeze Eren tight. “It’s not about kissing, Eren. It’s stupid and childish, but I knew you first and yet here you are, best friends with Jean as soon as you meet him.”
Eren suddenly had the urge for another drink. Then maybe the uncomfortable feeling in his gut would go away. “Mikasa, I don’t know what to say. Jean, he…”
“Do you like him, Eren? The way that you don’t like me?” Mikasa asked, smiling behind her hand with a warmth Eren had never really noticed before.
“I—“ he hesitated, brain still full of cheap beer and vodka and too many thoughts. “He’s my best friend, Mikasa. He likes girls. And I’m a boy.”
“That doesn’t answer my question though, does it?” Mikasa regarded Eren with kind eyes. “Do you like him? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You can tell me.”
Eren pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and sighed heavily. “I want him to kiss me. Sometimes I think he’s going to do it and my heart feels all funny and then my head gets all fuzzy. But then nothing happens and I feel stupid because Jean is just… Jean, you know? He’s so nice and kind and—“ Eren clapped a hand over his mouth, effectively cutting himself off from blurting anymore nonsense to Mikasa. “I’m sorry! Forget I just rambled all about that. I, uh…”
Mikasa pried Eren’s hand away and held it in her own. “You should talk to him about it, Eren. I know he’d understand.”
Eren yanked his hand back and vehemently shook his head. “No! All I’d get is pity. And I don’t even know if I like him or if we’re too close. It’s stupid. Forget I said anything.”
“Eren…” Mikasa frowned. Eren stared down at the grass and Mikasa let out a soft sigh. “Come on, we need to clean you up a bit.” She stood up and pulled Eren up by the armpits.
Eren swayed on the spot for a second. The drunk feelings came back with force as he tried to walk back through into Armin’s house. He flinched when Mikasa’s warm arms wrapped around him. “Hopeless,” Mikasa whispered quietly. “Upstairs. You can brush your teeth and then you’ll feel better.”
Eren let himself be guided up the stairs. He tripped twice; once on a passed out senior and once on a paper cup. Mikasa giggled into his ear and pushed him into the bathroom. “Here,” she said, handing Eren a toothbrush. “Use it and we’ll throw it away. No one has to know.”
Eren wrinkled his nose in disdain. “But—“
“Do you want to taste like puke all night?” Mikasa interrupted with a raised brow. Eren sighed in resignation and began brushing his teeth. He peered into the mirror and frowned. His face was flushed in patches and his hair was a complete mess. Spitting into the sink, Eren turned the cold tap on high and splashed water over his heated skin.
“Feel better?” Mikasa asked. She ran her fingers through the running water and smoothed them through Eren’s hair, trying to tame it into some semblance of style.
Eren nodded and turned the tap off. “A bit. Still drunk, but minty fresh.” He smiled at his friend. “Thank you, Mikasa.”
Mikasa smiled in response and reached to open the bathroom door. “You should find him. If you won’t tell him how you feel, at least assure him that he’s got it wrong about you and me. He’ll hound me forever if you don’t set him straight.”
“Okay,” Eren sighed. “I’ll try.” He hesitated awkwardly for a moment. “Really, Mikasa, thank you. Um, I’m sorry that you—“
Mikasa cut him off with a tight hug. Eren reciprocated, shy hands coming up to stroke Mikasa’s back. “You’re welcome,” Mikasa whispered. “Go look for your boy.”
Eren pulled away, heat flushing his cheeks. He turned and caught sight of Jean’s hair through a crowd of people on the stairs. Eren sighed - at least he wouldn’t have to look very far.
He caught up with Jean just as he was opening Armin’s front door. “Jean!” he yelled, stumbling over a pair of shoes on the floor. “Ouch. Crap. Jean, wait up!”
Jean turned and smiled. He seemed surprised to see Eren. “Hey you. Still wasted?”
Eren punched him in the arm. Or tried to. “Uh, maybe.”
Laughing, Jean grabbed Eren’s hand to keep him steady. “Luckily you’re an adorably dumb drunk.”
Eren pouted at that. He glanced down at their joined hands and felt his heart go all funny again. His stomach twisted, and for a moment Eren thought he was going to be sick again. Then he realised what it was. “Jean,” he said quietly, “I need to tell you something.”
Jean frowned, concern etched across his features. “What’s up?”
Eren was silent as he pulled Jean away from the house to a dark spot on the sidewalk. He let go of Jean’s hand as soon as they stood still, glad that Jean couldn’t see his heated face or hear just how hard his heart was pounding.
“Eren,” Jean murmured, moving closer, “you didn’t even put shoes on. You’ll get cold.”
Eren looked down at his feet in surprise. He hadn’t even noticed. “It’s okay,” he said absently. “I’m drunk.”
Jean chuckled. “No shit, Sherlock.”
“I thought I was Watson?”
Jean cuffed Eren on the chin and rolled his eyes. “What did you want to tell me, all the way out here in the dark? I thought you were having fun with Mikasa.”
Eren looked up sharply. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
A warm smile curved Jean’s lips. “It’s okay, Eren. I know, and I’m totally cool with it.”
“You do? You are?” Eren shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “How?”
“Well I’d kinda been getting some vibes before, you know? But the past few days really confirmed it.” Jean’s smile widened as he spoke.
It’s because I let him in my bed, Eren thought in panic. I should have kicked him out. Now he knows. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he said desperately.
“Why didn’t you?” Jean countered. “I couldn’t just out you!”
“How could I just tell you,” Eren moaned. He covered his face with his hands. “This is so embarrassing.” He jumped when he felt Jean’s hand grip his shoulder.
“I know it’s a little awkward because she’s our friend, but I’m okay with it. I’m sure everyone else will be.” Jean smiled at Eren encouragingly. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
Eren felt the colour drain from his face. “She?”
Jean blinked in confusion. "Mikasa… right?”
“What about her?” Eren whispered, a sense of dread welling up inside him.
“I thought that…” Jean trailed off, brows knitting together with even more confusion. “You always talk about her. And then you were outside together tonight. I saw you hug as you came out of the bathroom just now. I just assumed—“
“I don’t like Mikasa like that. Besides, she's literally gay,” Eren interrupted, getting annoyed by the second. “What made you think I did? She told me you were trying to set us up.”
Jean took a step backwards in defence. “Hey, you always bring her up in conversation, complaining about how you think she hates you. And that time in the practice room, we were talking about her and then you got all distracted after and started improvising. I know what that means, Eren. I’m not stupid.”
You are, Eren thought heatedly, I was thinking about you, you idiot. Are you blind? His head spun with alcohol and the headache he was getting from the conversation taking a wrong turn. “Well I don’t like her,” he said through clenched teeth, “so stop interfering.”
Jean nibbled on his lower lip and then said, “I’m sorry, Eren. Really. I didn’t know I’d got it wrong.”
“Really wrong,” Eren sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Hey look, I’m sorry if I pissed you off by implying you might like Mikasa, okay?” Jean said defensively. “It’s not like you’ve had a girlfriend ever, so when I saw you with her, I thought...”
Eren stared at him. “So what you're saying is, since I never had a girlfriend before and Mikasa is the only girl you see me hanging out with, it makes us a couple?"
“No, I didn’t—“ Jean paused and rubbed his hands over his face, “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. You know I don’t think like that.” He sighed and gave Eren a weak smile. “Look we’ve both been drinking and I just made an idiot of myself. I’m gonna go home and sleep. We can talk tomorrow, okay?”
Eren said nothing as Jean turned and started to walk away. He felt stupid and embarrassed and slightly panicky that he’d just inadvertently told Jean his biggest secret. And then Jean had the audacity to leave. “Don’t just go!” Eren shouted, uncaring of the time or volume of his voice. “You can’t walk away from an argument and expect everything to be okay after some sleep.”
Jean stopped and Eren watched his shoulder’s slump. When he turned back, Jean wasn’t smiling. He walked slowly back towards Eren. “Are you trying to pick a fight, Eren? You know I hate arguing with you. And you’re drunk.”
“I know,” Eren admitted. The panic was fading now that Jean wasn’t walking away from him anymore. “I just want to make sure that you know I don’t like Mikasa that way.”
Jean sighed. “You don’t have the hots for Mikasa. I get it. I’m sorry.”
“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say,” Eren growled out, irritated with both Jean and himself. “You’re not listening.”
“What? Eren, I don’t hear you trying to say anything. I’m too tired for this, we should just—“
“You can’t,” Eren pleaded. He stepped forward and grasped Jean’s shoulders. “You can’t just leave after I… after I…”
“After you what, Eren? I don’t get what you’re trying to say.” Jean’s eyes creased with concern as he held gently onto Eren’s elbows. “What’s wrong?”
Eren pushed forward, his arms folding between them, and kissed Jean. Eyes open and startlingly sober, Eren pressed his mouth against Jean’s. Jean's lips were warm and dry and Eren felt sheer terror freeze in his chest. Until Jean’s eyes fluttered shut and his arms slipped around Eren’s waist. Their mouths softened against one another’s and Eren let his own eyes fall closed. The funny feeling in his heart was back, but it was warm as Jean tipped Eren’s head back, opened his mouth and moaned. Eren jerked away in surprise.
“You taste like mint,” Jean said breathlessly.
Eren couldn’t take his eyes off Jean’s lips. “I puked.”
“What?” Jean laughed. “And you’re kissing me?”
Eren decided to forego any further stalling, and kissed Jean again. Now that the fear was gone, all Eren felt was happiness as Jean kissed the living daylights out of him. Jean’s mouth was wet and warm and wonderful and he kept doing something amazing with his tongue that had Eren weak at the knees. He tried to copy it and Jean moaned into his mouth again, long and wanting. Eren slid his fingers into Jean’s hair and pressed closer and when Jean’s hand cupped his backside, Eren groaned and twisted. Their groins came into contact and Eren felt the reactions of both their bodies.
He pulled back as fear gripped him again. “Oh my god.” He untangled himself from Jean and stumbled back. “What are we doing?”
Jean blinked at him and licked his lips. “Eren, it’s okay,” he said hoarsely, sounding totally well-kissed. “It’s okay.”
Eren touched at his kiss-swollen mouth and shook his head. “No, it’s not okay. How could I… When we’re both drunk…”
“We are drunk,” Jean said, trying to pull Eren closer, “but it’s okay.”
“Stop saying that,” Eren hissed. “It’s not. You don’t even. Go home. I can’t—“
Eren turned and ran as fast as he could. It wasn’t meant to go like that. Eren Jeager didn’t get drunk and he definitely didn’t kiss his best friend who he’d secretly long-harboured a crush on.
“Eren!” Jean yelled behind him. His voice sounded far away. “You’re not wearing any shoes!”
But Eren didn’t care. He didn’t hear. He only ran faster, willing away the memory of Jean’s touch with every choking breath.