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“Are you nervous?”
It was the fourth time Jean had asked him that since they got on the road. They were heading back home for the weekend to spend Christmas with their mothers, their first Christmas as a couple, and Jean had been worried about it since they decided it.
“Are you asking because you’re really that worried about me, or are you actually the nervous one?” Armin asked, smirking a little at his boyfriend.
“What?!” Jean cried, taking his eyes off the road for a moment and looking over at Armin. His eyes were wide and his mouth already beginning to set into the pout he always got when Armin called him out. “No, I’m not nervous. What would make you think that?!”
Armin huffed a laugh. “You’ve asked me four times in the last half hour, even after saying that I’m not.” He pointed out, turning a little in his seat so he could see him.
The pout was out in full force now, Jean’s bottom lip jutting out slightly, and ran a hand back through his hair. He was quiet for a moment as he considered what to say. “Maybe a little.” He murmured eventually. “But can you blame me? It’s you. We’re going to see my mom. It’s terrifying.”
“Jean,” Armin started, reaching over and laying his hand on his boyfriend’s arm, “I’ve known her since we were kids. You’re worrying over nothing.”
“It’s the first time since we’ve been together though. Everything is different now.”
Armin couldn’t help but think about those words and shake his head. Nothing had really changed all that much between them since that first kiss. They treated each other the same, spoke the same, moved in each other’s orbit the exact same, just with a bit more intimacy. “It isn’t really.” He assured him. “We’re still us. The only change is that I can tell you that I love you out loud.”
Jean took another breath and forced some of the tension out of his body, knowing Armin was right but still worrying a little. It was amazing how alike the two of them could be sometimes. He laid his hand over the other man’s and gave it a small squeeze. “You’re right, as usual. I can’t help it though. I have no idea how she’s going to react.”
Marie knew about the developments, of course, but she’d been overseas pretty much since it happened. Her own mother had been sick since the previous winter, and she hopped on the first plane headed to Germany to be with her. Now she was home and had time to process it all, and Armin just hoped she would approve.
It wasn’t too far of a drive from their place in the city to their smaller hometown, and Mrs. Arlert lived just a few houses down from Marie. That was one of the perks about having their mothers be best friends from the time they were young: they always had someone both boys trusted to look out for them.
With Marie gone so much, though, Armin worried. He couldn’t help himself. Avery spent as much time with Jean’s mother as her hectic schedule would allow, and having her gone for almost the whole year had taken a toll on her. She was the one thing that held Avery together after Armin’s father died, and she pretty much depended on her to always be there.
When they finally arrived, Jean’s nervousness came back fully, and Armin could once again feel the tension coming off of him in waves. “We’ll be fine.” He promised, rubbing his hand over his arm.
They weren’t completely out of the car when they heard the front door open and Jean was being embraced by his mother before either of them knew what just happened.
“Jeanboy!” Marie exclaimed happily, squeezing her son so tight Armin swore he heard a rib or two crack. After a moment, she pulled back, her hands on his face and joy bright in her eyes. “Next time I go home, you and Armin are coming with me!”
“Hi, Mom.” Jean replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was embarrassed. “You’ll, uh, have to talk to him about that before you go making plans though.”
Both Kirsteins turned to Armin then, and he’d just gotten his hand up to wave hello before it was his turn to be hugged. “It’s so good to see you, Armin.” She told him, pulling back. “But you want to come to Germany, don’t you? You’ll talk Jeanny into it for us?”
“Ma!” Jean yelped, cheeks red as she tried to get Armin on her side. “He can barely get time off as it is! There’s no way he could take off for months like that!”
Marie just waved her hand at Jean and turned back to Armin, eyes still sparkling with happiness. “If you’re having to work that hard, then you don’t need to be at that place! We’ll find you something better.”
Jean let out an exasperated noise at that and grumbled to himself as he got their things from the car, effectively hiding his face from them as he tried to cool down. When he emerged he went up to them, shaking his head, and shot her a serious look. “Please stop trying to get my boyfriend to quit his job.”
“He needs to!” Marie cried, looking between the boys. “You should be encouraging him, too! You live too far away anyway, darling. You need to be closer to your mothers!”
Jean pushed his hair back out of his face and stomped into the house without another word, already irritated at the situation and was quickly followed by Marie, still trying to talk to him about it.
All Armin could do was laugh. He always got a kick out of the bickering between them, and slowly followed them inside. He could hear them in the other room, Marie’s voice calm and Jean’s loud and rising in pitch, and Armin decided to let them have a moment to talk it out.
He stood close by the door, taking a look around the front room, and was hit hard with nostalgia. He could remember being here for Christmases when he was young, rushing through the same door with Jean hot on his heels, shivering and red faced from being out in the snow. They would either be building snowmen or sledding down the small slope in the yard, or in a snowball fight with Connie and Eren, and needing to knock the chill off before going back at it again.
He always loved stepping inside and immediately smelling hot chocolate waiting for them in the kitchen, or the cinnamon pinecones Marie always bought around that time of year, and feeling safe and welcomed in its walls.
He took a seat on the couch and let himself look around the house, smiling when he realized how much of it stayed the same throughout the years. School pictures of both he and Jean covered the walls, their own faces smiling at him at different points in their lives, and smaller ones of Marie and her husband, and her and Avery filled up the mantel. It was peaceful. It was warm. It was home.
It got him thinking a bit about what she’d been saying to him outside about quitting his job, and found himself wondering if maybe he should talk to Jean about it later.
“Armin,” Marie started, poking her head around the corner into the room, “is Avery still coming over, do you know?”
Armin was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of her voice and looked up, nodding. “She had to go into work for a bit, but she’s still coming.” He confirmed. “She’ll just be a bit late.”
Marie tutted at that and stepped into the living room with two mugs of hot chocolate, and set one down in front of him before going to sit in her chair. “Your mother works way too much.” She told him with a shake of her head. “It must be where you get it from.”
Armin gave her an embarrassed smile and picked up his mug, taking a deep breath and letting the scent of cocoa and warm milk fill his lungs. “It must be.” He could hear Jean’s footsteps across the kitchen floor, and looked up when he saw his shadow crossing the wall before finally seeing him coming into the room. “What took you so long?” He asked, scooting over a little.
Jean said nothing until he sat down beside Armin and took a sip of his drink, his eyes slipping shut at the taste. “I had to add a bit to it.” He said.
Marie just rolled her eyes at that and sat back, picking up a half-knitted sweater and beginning to work on it. “He means he needed to raid my kitchen for something a little stronger than milk to put in it.” She told him, shooting a teasing look at her son.
“What, am I not allowed to relax a little? It’s Christmas!”
At that she laughed before turning her attention to her project, letting a comfortable silence settle over them. Armin kept his gaze fixed on the yarn, watching as a picture slowly began to form as the rows increased, and barely noticed when Jean rested his head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry about this.” Jean breathed, scooting a little closer to him. “I had no idea she’d be this bad.”
Armin slipped his arm around his boyfriend and bit his cheek to keep from laughing, not at all wanting him to apologize for any of it. It made him feel loved if he were honest, and he liked it. “It’s fine. I know she just worries about us. I… actually want to talk to you about what she was saying about the job later.”
Jean groaned, rolling his head until his face was buried in Armin’s sweater, even more embarrassed knowing she got to him so fast. “You don’t have to go along with it, you know.”
“No, I… I actually want to.” He replied, leaning over and pressing a kiss to the top of Jean’s head.
“Really?” Jean asked, raising an eyebrow at him, surprised he was really entertaining the idea. “You’d move back here?” At Armin’s answering nod, Jean settled back, letting himself think about it. It would be a lot, because he knew his mother well enough to know she would be checking up on them a bit too often for comfort and bringing them way too much food, especially if both of them found jobs and didn’t have time to cook. He could see himself getting aggravated by it, but… he almost found himself looking forward to it, too. Jean would never admit it, not even fully to himself, but he did miss her. He missed her being close, he missed her fretting over them, but most importantly, he missed pretending to be mad at her for all of it before finally giving in to whatever she wanted.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, being back in the place they all grew up.
“Okay.” He replied, looking up at Armin as best as he could. “Okay, we’ll talk about it.”
It lapsed into silence again as all of them really began to settle in, the only sound coming from the clicking of Marie’s knitting needles, but it was almost soothing. The almost rhythmic taps as the aluminum tips hit each other with every stitch was enough to make Jean begin to drift, feeling for all the world like a child again and sitting with her like this on Christmas morning after breakfast but before they opened their gifts. Marie would sit in that same chair, rocking gently as she knitted, or crocheted, or did whatever new craft she wanted to get into that year, and Jean would be stuck waiting until her hands tired before they finally were able to get started.
As a kid, he always hated it and wished she would just stop, as an adult, though, he realized how much time went into those projects and found himself wanting to ask her to make him sweaters or scarves, or all the other things he took for granted when he was young.
He wished he could go back and talk some sense into his younger self, to tell him to appreciate all of the things his mom did for him, and only hoped that it wasn’t too late to start now.
“What’re you making?” He asked her, eyes fixed on the yarn.
Marie looked up from her work and set it in her lap, running her hand over the soft stitches, and shot her son a warm smile. “A cardigan.” She said. “You mentioned that Armin’s old one was beginning to wear down, so I thought he might be able to use a new one.”
Armin sat up at that and frowned at her, shaking his head. “You don’t have to go through all of that for me!” He insisted. “That’s too much work.”
Marie waved off his concern, chuckling a little to herself, and held it up so he could see it. “When you’ve been doing this as long as I have, it’s really not.” She told him. “It’s one of the easier projects I can do.”
Armin mumbled out a thank you, and Jean didn’t have to look at him to know he was blushing, and know he would never, ever take it off once it was finished.
“So, tell me about how you two have been doing. Jean has been so quiet about it all.” Marie spoke, anxious to hear how they were getting on with their new dynamic.
“I just wanted to tell you in person.” Jean muttered, finally sitting up himself as another pout crossed his face. “You’re the one who took off for Germany before we had a chance to see you!”
“You could have called me and told me more, Jeanboy.” Marie pointed out, shaking her head at him. “All this time I’ve been worried something was wrong with how cryptic you were about it!”
“We’re doing fine.” Armin assured her, feeling for Jean’s hand on the couch and squeezing it. “Jean has pretty much taken over all kitchen duties. I’m barely allowed in there anymore.”
“Jean,” Marie scolded, shooting him a stern look. “You know cooking is something that should be shared! Where would you be if I hadn’t let you help me all that time when you were growing up?”
“What he isn’t telling you is that he’s been having to work twelve hour days. He doesn’t need to worry about that on top of everything else.” Jean said in defense of himself, folding his arms. “And besides that, when I first moved in he was living off frozen meals and energy drinks. He can’t be trusted in there.”
Marie’s eyes widened at that and sat up a bit straighter in her chair, her full attention back on Armin. “So that’s why you looked so sick all last year.” She realized. “You weren’t eating properly. Jean and I were worried sick about you, Armin!”
Armin shrank back a little at being called out like that, embarrassed to know they were so worried about him when he was really fine. “It’s not anything I haven’t done before. That’s how I got through college.”
“He’s doing better now, though.” Jean promised, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m making sure he eats right.”
“Good.” Marie nodded, a proud smile on her face knowing that Jean was helping out so much. “This is just another reason to come home, though. When Jeanboy is able to find another job, we can make sure you’re taking care of yourselves!”
“Mom…” Jean sighed, knowing they were in for a long night if she didn’t stop soon, they would be enduring the hints from both of them until they went back home. “We’ll talk about it all later.”
That stalled conversation for a little while and things were quiet in the home once more, and after a few agonizing moments of it, Jean couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled around, soft Christmas music playing from the speakers once he set it down again.
Sensing that her son was a bit uncomfortable, Marie took a breath and a little grin curled her mouth. “When Jeanboy said you two had finally gotten together, it wasn’t even really surprising.” She said. “It was something both Avery and I had been waiting on for a very long time.”
Hearing that got Jean a blushing mess again, and he hid his face in Armin’s shoulder for a second time, grumbling to himself.
“I think it was like that for everyone.” Armin replied, laughing a little himself. “All of our friends had a bet going on how long it would take.”
“I’m just thankful it finally did.”
“We should all be thanking our friends for that. It was Sasha and Eren who finally couldn’t take it anymore and all but pushed us into each other on New Years.” He smiled. Beside him, Jean muttered something that Armin couldn’t make out, but he thought he was safe in assuming that it was something about Eren.
Armin ran his hand over Jean’s back, biting his cheek to keep from laughing again and embarrassing him further.
*
Daylight began to fade the longer they sat there waiting for Avery. At 4:00, Marie finally made herself get up and asked Jean to help her get dinner started, and Armin went too just so he wouldn’t be alone. He was content to sit back and watch both Kirsteins in their element this time, but knew for dinner the following night it would be all hands on deck. Jean’s cousin and aunt were coming in, his father, and a few other relatives he knew but couldn’t place. Jean had the music playing louder now, and after another half of a glass of wine and he was singing along, letting loose in a way that he never really let himself unless he and Armin were alone; it was wonderful to see.
He allowed himself a moment to soak in the happiness he felt, and how the change would affect Christmases from here on out. He and Jean were together now. The four of them were an official family. This was their first Christmas as such, and it was special. Special in a way that none of them could really grasp then, but Armin felt it deep in his heart.
He was making memories with his future mother-in-law, watching his boyfriend - and hopefully later on, husband - help her in the kitchen and sang along to some of their favorite holiday songs. Later that night would come matching pajamas for both he and Jean, with stories and hot chocolate and some of Marie’s homemade cookies to snack on until they fell asleep.
They were almost finished when the door finally opened and his mother’s voice called out to them that she was there, and the temperature was dropping considerably.
Armin was the first one to greet her, and despite knowing how cold she would be, pulled his mom in for a tight hug, grateful that she was finally there and things could feel whole.
“Hey!” Avery greeted, holding tight to her son. “Was the drive down okay? What’s been going on?”
“It was fine, we got here this afternoon. We’ve just been cooking; are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
Armin led her into the kitchen just as Marie was beginning to dish things out, and the smell coming off of it made his mouth water.
After, the four of them gathered in Marie’s small living room, hunched over photo albums of winters in the past and laughing at outfits and faces and memories. She made hot chocolate for them, from a recipe her mother brought from Germany, and having a warm mug full of it felt like home.
Armin cradled it in his hands to warm himself up and leaned against Jean as they looked at photos from their first Christmas together, noting briefly that he held the same mug that Jean had in a picture of them having just come in from sledding. He smiled a little at the sight, touched to know Marie held onto things like that for so long.
It wasn’t their first ever Christmas together, but to him it felt brand new. So much had changed since they were kids, in ways either of them couldn’t even begin to imagine, but at the core it was filled with love, and it always would be.