Work Text:
Eren hates college. Completely, utterly hates it. Specifically the whole ‘I’m an idiot freshman that probably doesn’t know anything yet’ part.
If anything, the dorms are probably the worst of it. He swears by everything that the walls are made of paper, the stench in the corridors are hallucinogenic and death-inducing, and the showers are having a party that includes any and every bacterium and fungus in existence.
Oh, not to mention that his roommate is currently in the process of turning their room into a fucking porn studio.
They say not to worry about it, that he’ll get used to it, but seriously. How, in the name of all things sacred, does one become accustomed to the anarchy that goes down in the dormitories? And then deal with it for four fucking years? If anyone has an answer, Eren would like to know.
Dorm life at Eren’s college is so unacceptably poor that only one thing that could possibly be worse than that load of misery he deals with on a daily basis. It’s something so vile, so cringe-worthy that if Eren doesn’t run to the restroom within the next sixty seconds, his sorry excuse for breakfast is coming straight back up.
And that, everyone, is being stuck with Jean Kirchstein. Alone. At 8 o’clock in the morning.
After this is over, Eren is probably going to bang his head on the ground until he gives himself amnesia so he won’t have to remember that asshole.
He doesn’t even know why he’s here with him. Class was supposed to start twenty minutes ago but no one’s here yet and the both of them are getting increasingly angry and impatient because no one will answer their texts or calls. Hell, even the professor won’t answer them. Add that with their constant bickering since the five-minute mark passed, and their throwing of insults and slaps and punches (all of which they missed), their anger is only rising. And they keep trying to take out said anger. On each other. It’s a cycle that, if not broken soon, will send one of them to the hospital pretty damn quick.
Eren has been repeatedly calling his sister Mikasa (and her roommate, Armin) with only an automated answer machine greeting him every time. Just peachy.
“Is this some kind of sick joke to you, Jaeger? Huh?”
“Hop off my dick, will you? Fuck’s sake, I don’t know where everyone is.”
“Find out then!”
At this point, Eren has had enough of Jean and reaches out to slap him. Hard. The kind of hard that’ll leave a handprint for at least a few hours and would probably put someone else in tears.
Jean, however, just sits there – eyes wide, mouth gaping, and his hand cradling his now stinging cheek. Eren’s seething with frustration and anger and Jean, for once, regrets overstepping his boundaries.
His sudden bout of anger subsides and the reality of what Eren just did sets in, and immediately he sits himself down in front of Jean, pulling his hand away from his cheek. He hates this boy with every fiber of his being but Eren could never think to hurt him physically.
“Fuck, man, I-” Eren stumbles over his words, and Jean can see the regret in the shining emeralds in his eyes. I never noticed how nice the fucker’s eyes are, he thinks to himself.
“I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to do that,” Eren says, biting his lip. “You just...you piss me off so friggin’ much, y’know that? God.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jean huffs. “Fuck you, Jaeger.”
He can tell that the boy is still upset, so Eren decides to lean over, and just this once, kiss his burning cheek. Jean’s heart nearly stops when he feels the cool softness of Eren’s lips on his cheek, and when the boy pulls away, he wants to punch the kid right in the face. Gently.
With his lips.
Eren flashes him a toothy grin. “Better?”
It’s Jean’s turn to not know what the fuck he’s doing, but when he smashes his lips against Eren’s, he does know that his lips really are that soft and taste like the coffee he must have had for breakfast and of his dreams from last night. He knows that when Eren’s arms snake around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss, that they are on the same page.
As nice as it feels to be kissing Eren like this, to have him this responsive, neither of them has kissed anyone recently and there’s nose bumping and teeth clashing and heads bumping. It’s awkward as hell, but feels wonderful. Jean feels the smaller brunet crawling into his lap to have better access to his lips, to which he has no qualms.
They stay engrossed in each other until their lungs are aching for air, and Jean decides to instead occupy his lips with Eren’s neck, kissing at the spot just beneath his earlobe and trailing his kisses down his jawline to the supple, creamy skin of his neck, and then down to his collarbone. All the while, he continues to suck and nibble and bite at Eren’s flesh, forcing tiny sighs and moans of pleasure and drawing out blood as a reminder of this for later.
But it’s also to embarrass Eren, too.
The two of them are both equally aroused and hard as rocks by this point, and Eren seeks to find a mockery of relief by grinding his hips against Jean’s. A moan that’s louder than expected is elicited from the back of Jean’s throat; Eren stops all movement and tilts his head.
“You like that, horseface?” he teases, rutting his hips against the other boy’s crotch. Jean groans again, partially out of frustration. Mostly out of utter pleasure.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jean croaks, gasping for air and involuntarily bucking his hips up towards Eren.
They’re about to start feeling each other up and borderline fuck each other right here on the quad, where everyone can see, until Eren’s phone rings and he jumps off Jean like he’s contagious with something.
It’s his sister (fucking finally), and he answers the phone relatively quickly. Mikasa sounds somewhat irritated though. Shit.
“I wake up and my phone is buzzing from the twenty damn times you called me. The hell do you want, Eren?”
“Ah...haha...sorry, Mika,” Eren laughs awkwardly. “Listen, uh...where’s...the professor? And the entire class? It’s been a half hour and no one is here yet?”
“It was cancelled, dummy. Didn’t you get the email?”
“What email?”
“God. Prof sent an email, class is cancelled. See you later.” The call ends just like that and Eren is left sitting there in complete shock and annoyance at the whole thing.
He literally woke up, came all the way here, had to deal with this motherfucker for no reason?
Then again, he got a damn good make out session with Jean. So maybe the time spend here didn’t go completely to waste.
Jean’s waving his hand in front of Eren’s face as if to snap him out of his trance.
“Oi, dumbass,” he says, “what’d she say?”
“Apparently there was an email sent. That neither of us got,” Eren grumbles, gathering up his things and making himself look like he wasn’t making out with Jean five minutes ago.
“...What did the email say?”
“Class is cancelled.”
“So we-”
“Yeah.”
Jean stands up and walks right up right behind Eren, deliberately pressing his still-hard crotch against his ass. “So, my place?”
“Fuck you, Kirchstein,” Eren lazily elbows his stomach.
“Thought you’d never ask.”