Archive of Our Own ^beta

1.

JEAN Kirstein usually loved summertime, the sickly sweet smell of melon popsicles and the shine of tinted Coke bottles clinking against one another as he hung out in the back of his friend's place. The sounds of the city as he took the subway, at the ripe time of 2am because his friends wanted to explore the city. The sweat that would trickle down their necks as they stumbled into the closest convenient store to grab ice cream and hitch up their sweaty shirts. The feeling of just being a dumb kid, that nothing really mattered. 

What Jean didn’t like was the fact that every June 1st, he had to be sent down to live in his father’s cramped RV for the next month to spend ‘quality time’ with his country hick of a father.

Jean didn’t like his father. He was rude and loud, and the fact that Jean took after him a bit too closely was upsetting. He swore like a sailor and often donned a white tank top along with whatever women he decided to play nice with for the week. Jean would much rather stay in the city with his mother doing the same stupid things but his mother insisted ‘a growing boy needs to spend time with his father’.

Or something similar to that. 

He stared out the window of his dad’s pick up truck, the rusty red color turning brown. He watched as buildings became more and more scarce, and more open fields became apparent. He had taken a flight landing in the Chicago airport. His father had been there to pick him up, and he had looked all the same. The same beer belly and white tank top, the same navy blue button up and jeans with some baseball cap with a team Jean didn’t care for. 

There was another woman hanging off his father, a different one. This one had bleached blonde haired with pale blue and chalky eyeliner swirling her eyelids. Pink sparkly lip gloss thickly coating her lips as fake smiles pasted on their lips, their teeth poking through. 

He still could hear Connie and Sasha teasing him about going off to see some country girl, and to tell them whether or not they ‘did it’ on a haystack. He had shouted at them, but they just laughed even harder. It had been at a skatepark, and they ran away with his skateboard in hand. He missed them. He flipped open his flip phone to shoot them an iMessage.

“So Jean, how old are you?” The woman asked from the front seat. Jean snapped his eyes up from his flip phone as he saw her peeking at him from the rear view mirror. Jean learned that her name was Karen. Jean didn’t meet her eyes. 

He shut his flip phone. 

“Seventeen,” Jean muttered, he looked at his slightly worn hightops and backpack that sat on the floor of his dad’s truck. His skateboard poked out of his bag  and rested on his baggy blue jeans. He felt uncomfortably warm in his large leather jacket, but he didn’t move to take the jacket off. Under his leather jacket he wore a shirt from the Sex Pistols. 

His jacket felt familiar and reeked of the city with the weight of his lighter in his breast pocket. He didn’t really use it, but it looked cool and his mother had given it to him so he liked to carry it around. He liked the weight it gave,

“Seventeen! And still a senior in highschool? Any ideas for the future?” 

“...No.” Truth be told, Jean badly wanted to pursue art, but there was no way he would be able to tell his father that, so instead he answered vaguely to try to stop her from asking any more questions. 

“Maybe you could move to the country like your father n’ help ‘round his work. It wouldn’t hurt to see more of yah,” Karen laughed, as Jean struggled to recall the color of her eyes. Her face seemed to lose shape in his mind. God. He didn’t want to be here.

“I don’t think mechanic work is my thing-” Jean started before he was rudely interrupted by his father.

“No boy of mine is goin’ to live life as a soft-handed priss,'' Jean's father interrupted, “You will be helping ‘round the shop whether you like it or not.” His voice was probably gruff from cigarettes over the years, in fact, right at that moment a lit cigarette hung from his grubby lips. Smoking was another thing Jean learned to hate, only because his father did it all the time around him, even as a kid, Jean would have a mouthful of foul smoke blown into his face by his dear old dad. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” Jean muttered, he knew he was walking a thin line as his father glared at him through the rearview mirror. He hated his father.

“Reminds me, Jean, don’t dress like yer a…fag. Once yah get yer hands dirty in some motor oil, and trade those devil shirts for something normal you’ll feel right at home,” His father guffawed as Karen also giggled. Fuck both of them.

“...They aren’t devil shirts, they’re called the Sex Pistols, they’re cool.” Jean said shortly as his father snorted. 

“Cool?” His father scoffed, “one of these days yer gunna become on’ of  ‘em delinquents that lights shit on fire and causes a ruckus. Damn nuisances.” 

“Whatever, mom let me wear these shirts, she thinks it’s fine.” Jean said hotly, his gaze sliding towards the window.

“That’s just the point, boy, yer just confused. That’s what you get for livin’ with your mother. She babies you too much. Let's do whatever you want. It ain’t goin’ to be like that here, understand? I don’t care if yer fucking girls or whatever shit, but yer gunna do hard, honest work yuh hear? I’m going to straighten you out, boy, as yer father. We can’t let you be a fuck up.” 

Jean hated his father.

2.

AS the days blurred into one another, Jean was able to stall going to his father’s mechanic shop for two whole days. He did anything and everything he could, waking up early to ‘take a run’ before deciding to come back after his father had gone out, even going with Karen to help and follow her around. Jean knew it wouldn’t be working for long because Tuesday morning at seven-o-six am he awoke to his father roughly pushing his shoulder. 

Jean yelped as he shot up, he had just settled into a restless, uncomfortable sleep on the springy couch, and when he saw his father looming over him, he knew that the gig was up. 

“Get dressed, eat n’ get yerself together. We’re ‘bout to head to the shop.” His father had a mug of steaming coffee as he sipped under his thick brown mustache. Jean groaned and rolled over and up, popping every bone in his body as he stretched.

“Fine.” 

 Jean moved past his father towards the small shower. It was basically just a cubical, and 5’9 Jean could hardly even stand comfortably. He stripped his clothing and turned on the water, nearly shouting when cold water tumbled from the shower head. He swore and cursed as he quickly shampooed and rinsed his body.

He jumped out of the shower in favor of a towel that he wrapped around his waist and yawned as he grabbed a random band T-Shirt that was stuffed hastily into his backpack. His hair was still damp as he pulled it over his head. He went into the bathroom again to change into some underwear, baggy jeans and his leather belt. He shoved his feet into his unlaced Converse as he made his way to the tiny kitchen. 

His father was sitting on what was supposed to be Jean’s bed manspreading like no tomorrow. A big plate of eggs, toast, bacon and sausage in hand as he shoveled it into his mouth along with his big, red mug of coffee. He was still wearing a towel around his belly. He had his eyes glued to the tiny, blocky TV that buzzed with the news for the day.

“Here yah go, hun,” Karen handed him a mug of coffee, as it nearly burnt his fingers. Her eyes had that blue eyeshadow and thick mascara again. Jean half remembered Sasha saying something about it being ‘in’ as she furiously feathered on more blue eyeshadow. Whatever, he didn’t care about that stuff. 

Speaking of his friends, he had only sent an iMessage to Connie once and it was to complain. He could probably sneak to use the telephone when his dad wasn’t looking.

Jean half smiled as he sidestepped and opened the fridge to look for some milk. Bottles of beer clinked against one another as he swung open the fridge and when once he closed it, he heard the same clink of glass on glass. He swirled the spoon 'round and ‘round as he also took the plate Karen offered, a big plate of toast, eggs and bacon. He kicked open the RV door and sat on the steps facing out.

The sun was rising steadily across the sea of grass. His father had his RV parked in the middle of an RV park. There was a huge field facing his father’s RV with the neighboring farmer’s herd of cows in the distance blinking slowly in the warmth. The morning air felt fresh and sharp, almost reminding Jean of the city. The umber rays of the sun trickled down Jean’s nape, warming him as he began to eat. 

He ate basically the entire plate because he had been starving. Last night, Karen had made some spaghetti out of sour, canned tomatoes and overcooked noodles. He managed to get by without eating it by saying his stomach hurt. He set the plate down on another step and tentatively sipped at his coffee, the dark liquid still burning his lips. It was borderline undrinkable, but he felt warmer so that was nice. He sipped and sipped, making a face after each bitter drink, until he drank all of the coffee.

“Hey, son, get to the truck ‘n five, I need to change and then we’re out of here.” His father appeared behind Jean as he nodded in agreement. After his father vanished back into his room to change, Jean picked up his plate and set it in the kitchen along with his empty mug.

“Thanks Karen,” Jean said, Karen flashed him a smile that was uncomfortably wide, her blue eyes staring right at Jean as her arms bumping into his own. It was like she was leaning in and Jean felt strange as he pulled his arms away, but Karen was still looking at him, peering into him as if she were examining Jean’s face and body. Jean’s skin crawled.

“You look so much like your father . ” 

“Um, thanks?” Jean said, looking to the side. He heard Karen giggle again. 

“If you need anything, anything at all. Just tell me, m’kay?” Karen smiled again as she turned back to rinse the dishes off. It felt off, but Jean just nodded as he heard his father lumber out behind him.

“Alright Jean, let’s get goin’.”

The drive was a good ten minutes. Jean spent the ten minutes listening to his Ipod, tunes of the Sex Pistols, RadioHead and Fall out Boy skimmed through his ears.  He rocked his head back and forth to the beat of the song before his father’s red truck skidded to a halt, signaling that they had arrived. Jean glanced up. 

To be honest, it was exactly when he imagined. It was a sort of outside-inside structure with what looked like a garage to a flat, concrete rusty red and dull navy building. There was an extending outdoor roof of overlapped sheet metal being held up by towering, thick wooden blocks. There were metal barrels and ties lent up against the bottom of these wooden columns. Under the sheet metal roof was a sort of drive through operation, where there was already a black car parked in the shade of the sheet metal roof. 

There was a large rustic sign that read “Bill’s Auto Mechanic Shop” in presumably neon lights, though Jean wouldn’t be able to tell since it was daytime. He hadn’t been to his father’s mechanic shop ever before. His father often moved jobs, and places, so Illinois was completely new to Jean. So, when his father had told him over the phone that he had started up his own business as a mechanic shop, Jean only wondered when would be the next time his father changed occupations. 

The locals were chatting with the mechanics, stopping to buy oil changes and car stuff. Jean really didn’t know anything about cars, because in a bustling city, you take the subway or walk to where you need to go. Jean did have his license, but he didn’t really own a car. He just used his mother’s when he really needed to, but in order to save up on gas both regularly took the subway. 

“This is it boy! Ain’t she beautiful? It’s gorgeous, the place, ain’t it.” His father rumbled, “You’ll love it, I promise, by the end of this month you ain’t goin’ to be some wide eye’d virgin. Let me show you around.”

Jean didn’t say anything as he followed his father around, it was what he expected. Jean saw a couple of the people working there, all middle aged men wearing thick boots, oil-stained jeans and sweaty t-shirts and tank tops. There was an occasional pair of gloves or dirty rag thrown over the shoulders. They dragged their feet and slouched when they walked. The sight of tools everywhere laying all about on the floor, tables, and tool racks. Grease covered rags lay on tables and benches, while the men worked on the cars outside of the shop, all seemed to be broken down vehicles.

Among the men with rubber soled boots and stained white tank tops and boot jeans, Jean felt extremely out of place with his baggy ripped jeans, punk t-shirt, hightops and earbuds. Shit. Jean tucked away his earbuds and Ipod.

“I want you to meet someone, he’s ‘bout yer age, hmm, seventeen I think. He’s been helpin’ me for the last six months. He’ll be helpin’ you get used to mechanic work.”

“Uh, okay,” Jean said lamely. To be honest, he didn’t want to meet some motor oil guzzling hillbilly in the shop. Hell, he didn’t even want to be here. He wanted to be back with his mother, living in the city with his actual friends. He suppressed a sigh as he followed his father around.

“Hey! Carl, you know where Jäeger is?!” 

“Jäeger? Oh! He’s fixing up the Mitsubishi Lancer out front. Lookin’ over the skid plate.” Some guy with blonde hair with a large blond beard shouted back before he resumed with whatever car part he was fiddling with. There were beer cans everywhere, stacked on shelves, turned over buckets, even on the cars themselves. Jean’s father shouted thanks as they headed towards the direction of the black car in front. Jean could see a guy’s body half under the black car on a mechanic creeper, those things you always see on film. 

The bottom half of this…Jäeger guy was wearing worn blue jeans, that had hasty motor oil hand prints swiped down his pants. He wore brown boots and had gloves and a tool belt tied at his waist. There were metallic noises emitting from the car, presumably from his movements. Jean's father used his foot to jerk the mechanic creeper that the guy was laying on, causing the mechanic scraping and tittering to pause as the guy used his heels to pull himself out from under the car.

“Something the matter, Mr. Kirstein?” He had a mop of stringy brown hair, it gathered at the center of his head in a small bun in a half-up-half-down do and stringletts of hair fell onto his forehead. His hair fell right under his ears and stretched slightly into his nape as it curled just under his ear. 

His skin was tan and dotted with sun-bleached blemishes along with the occasional acne scar. His thick brown eyebrows furrowed over these green-blue colored eyes, the same color of the sea as it sparkled under the light of dusk. His face was distinctly masculine, the traces of childlike expression ebbed away. He wore a white muscle shirt, which was as dirty as his pants, with motor oil and stains at the collar. 

Those aqua jewels flitted over in Jean’s direction and utmost immediately, it made Jean feel small. Though he was taller than the boy, Jean was made up of rigid lines, looking more gangly and stick-like. Jean crossed his arms, a scowl on his face. He should have spiked up his mullet, maybe then he would look less like a preteen.

“This is my son, Jean Kirstein, Jean this is Eren Jäeger. I expect the both of you youngins to get along. Jäeger, try to teach this kid, he ain’t got a clue ‘bout any automobile repairs. Anyways, I’ve got shit to take care of, Jean just follow this kid ‘round, he’ll show you the ropes.”

Jean’s dad clapped his thick, meaty hands on Jean’s shoulder, sending his lurching forward. He glared over at his father who didn’t see a thing apparently before his father finally turned away leaving Jean with his random guy who was named after liquor. It was silent a couple of moments before Eren spoke. He wiped his hands on his pants and planted them at his hips as his eyes looked Jean up and down. There was a smug look on his face.

“So, what’s a city boy like you doin’ here in the rural areas.” Eren said, and it was just the way his voice itched with a sort of mockery and taunt. The way his mouth grinned and eyebrows furrowed, as if he were agitating Jean. As if he were somehow better than Jean. And it worked, Jean was properly pissed off within the first few seconds of being alone with this bastard.

“Shut up, Jäeger , I didn’t even ask to be here. And what do you mean city boy?!” Jean said hotly, his arm clenching as he crossed them on his chest. 

“I mean what I said city boy, I mean, just look at yourself. You reek of privilege and of that of that sweet, sweet city air,” Eren smirked, his face was infuriating as he grabbed a wrench and slid back under the car. Jean’s ears grew red as he wanted so badly to punch Eren’s cocky grin or something.

“It’s not my fault you country hicks have no sense of what being clean is,” Jean muttered scathingly under his breath, “and I do not reek of privilege.” 

“Uh huh, sure you don’t, look, I know your Pops said to stick with me, but I don’t really work well with assholes, could you just go kick rocks or somethin’ and leave me alone?” Those infuriating scraping sounds of metal sounded once again as Jean felt like he was already tired of hearing Eren talk.

“Takes one to know one. Asshole,” Jean muttered loud enough for Eren to hear him before he stomped away. He wondered if he had heard Eren scoff or if that had been just his mind making up things to hate more about Eren.

 The rest of the week dragged on and Jean really only spent most of the time either sorting through a huge orange bucket of loose nuts and all imaginable screws possible or cleaning because he didn’t know how to do jackshit.

He was able to sneak to his father’s truck a couple times to just chill in the back, but it eventually became too hot to even sit in the truck. He was sitting on a metal barrel so his ass hurt like hell as he looked intently at a box. He got minor scratches from the metal but it really only stung a bit. It was hot and sweaty, as the back of Jean’s nape was drenched. He glanced at the rotating fan enviously, hoping for it to swivel to his direction for once. The only good part of the passing days was listening  to his music. 

Eren was always infuriating, the way he spoke, the way he acted and walked. He acted like he was so much better than Jean, that arrogant bastard. He had girls, who often came with their dad’s for car stuff, who clung to him, but the guy was either celibate or just fucking dumb because each time he would stumble through some conversation and then turn them down.

“Fucking basterd,” Jean muttered as he angrily swept the floor. Was he jealous? A little but hell who wouldn’t be? Eren was practically swarmed with pretty girls, and yeah maybe Jean wished it were him who was overwhelmed with girls, but he'd never admit it.

“He's a grade-A douche,” Jean seethed as he stood in the back of the building.

 “Like the other day someone told me that he rejected another girl! She asked for a date and he just smiled and said ‘no’. He’s an asshole! And the girl was so heads over heels for the guy that she didn’t even react badly! It's pretty privilege I tell you!”

He stood, arms crossed and his flipped pressed to his ear, the heat was getting to his head, but he couldn’t help it. Anything the bastard did pissed him off. He spent the last five minutes just spewing all the shit Eren did that pissed him off. It didn’t really make him feel any better to rant, especially since Connie was a dumbass. 

“Shit dude, I called you to see if you met some hot chicks, not to listen to you rant about some asshole…Not going to lie, he sounds kinda like you. I mean, I remember your flirting skills, no matter how bad they were, you always insisted you were hot shit.” Connie laughed which made Jean even more pissed.

“I am nothing like that bastard!” Jean insisted.

“Is that Jean! Heyy lover boy!” Sasha’s voice shouted from the background of the phone call as it grew louder and louder, “you meet any hotties yet?”

“Fuck off! I didn’t come to Illinois for girls!”

“Uh huh~! Sure you didn’t!” Sasha crowed as he heard Connie begin moaning comically loud. There was more tussle and static noise and the phone was yanked away. He heard Connie and Sasha yelp in surprise and indignant before another voice piped up.

“Hey, Jean? This is Marco. Are you okay? Is Illinois that bad?” Marco’s worried voice flooded Jean’s ears and it made Jean relax a bit. He slumped back to the wall and slid down into a crouch as he sighed tiredly. He could still hear Sasha and Connie’s loud ass voices.

“ No I’m not okay, I fucking hate it here. Everyone is fucking insane and I want to go home.” Jean said miserably, sounding a bit too pitiful then he would have liked, but it was good that it had been Marco rather than Connie or Sasha.

“I’m sorry Jean, I really don’t know what I can do to help. I do miss you, and your bad influence no one to help me sneak out anymore,” Marco laughed sympathetically. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” Jean laughed, a smirk crawling on his face. He remembered how conservative Marco’s parents were. Religious, poised and polite. If they knew that their perfect little Marco was indulging in ‘sinful’ behavior by sneaking out every night, they would have a damn heart attack. 

“Anyways-,” Connie’s voice cut in abruptly, “Marco has a hot date tonight at a diner and we’re going to spy on him! Good luck with fixing cars. ” Connie laughed.

“Oh does he? Whatever, tell Marco I said good luck. You and Sasha can go fuck yourselves.” Jean had a sneer on his lips as he ended the call promptly. 

“God those assholes,” Jean muttered as he shoved his flip phone into his pocket and just sighed. He stood there, slouching for a bit as he stalled to go back, before he finally collected himself and turned the corner.

“Jesus!” Jean yelped in fright as he ran directly into Eren who had been leaning on the other side of the corner, clearly listening to Jean's entire conversation. He was wearing his white tank top and denim jeans with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips. Jean was so close that he could see a sheen of sweat on Eren’s temple. He looked incredibly sweaty, his Adam’s apple bobbing and amusement as he stifled a chuckle. Jean glared. 

He casually looked at Jean as he puffed in and then blew rings of smoke. Jean felt like he was a kid who had been caught by his parents doing something bad.

“Haven't you learned that listening to people’s conversations are rude?” Jean snapped, he was already in a bad mood and this did not help.

“Haven’t you learned that it’s rude to talk about people behind their back?” Eren retorted back as he took a drawl of his cigarette before he blew smoke right into Jean’s face. Jean’s ears flushed in anger as he took a step back, slightly coughing as he scowled at Eren.

“Oh like you’ve haven’t done the same. I can hear you calling me a spoiled brat from across the damn yard. You’re not exactly quiet about it,” Jean muttered as he spun around, angrily stomping away. Eren laughed like a madman, like Jean had said the funniest thing. 

“Well, you’re entertaining,” Eren said, much to Jean’s frustration, as Eren tailed after Jean who was trying to speed walk away. Eren seemed to keep up with Jean’s strides, his hands in his pockets as he slouched in a relaxed manner. It was like Jean was the only one who was bothered between the two of them.

"Just go away."

“You know I’m a bit hurt, I thought we were getting along,” Eren crooned, Jean rolled his eyes so hard his eyes ached. 

“Literally in what universe.” Jean muttered as Eren laughed. 

Jean hated Eren’s stupid shit eating grin. He would linger round Jean and say snarky jabs at whatever the hell Jean was assigned to do. Sorting through customer’s files? Eren was right there leaning over the file cabinet to watch and criticize Jean’s every move. Sweeping the floor? Eren would be there on his smoke break to tell him that he missed a spot. Emptying the trash? Eren would be there to throw a couple more bags onto Jean’s already heavy load. 

He seriously despised Eren to the last core of his being. Every chance the motherfucker poked jabs at him. His appearance, the clothing he wore, the fact he was born in the city. Jean nearly fought him thrice, and the only reason Jean hadn’t tried to beat his ass was because his brother, Zeke, had defused the situation. (And whether or not Jean cared to admit, he would most likely lose against the other seventeen year old.)

Eren always made it a deal to be in Jean’s personal bubble, which was easily infuriating.

Over the next couple days, Jean was sorting through old paint buckets in the back warehouse. It was an open garage warehouse that no one really went to because of how stuffy and hot it was, but Jean figured it was a quiet enough place to do his work. Most of the pails were already empty, but a fair amount still had the white paint in the cans. He had spent most of the afternoon stacking the empty cans and stacking the full cans when he noticed Eren and some girl talking and flirting with one another not too far away.

Eren had his arm wrapped around the girl’s waist as the girl giggled and fluttered her eyelashes at him, playing with Eren’s lighter. Her pale arms wandered his chest as they had barely an inch between them. She wore a skimpy tank top with a jean skirt that could easily show her panty straps. Bright red. Her gorgeous, long, blonde hair was thrown over her shoulder as she giggled at Eren’s wandering hands.

Jean muttered obscenities under his breath as Eren ripped his hands away when her boyfriend came out. Fucking side hoe. Jean muttered. He was not jealous that Eren could swoon any girls he wanted. He wasn’t. Totally not. God, Jean needed a fucking girlfriend. Jean was so absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Eren creeping up on him.

“Hey Jeanboy,” Eren’s obnoxiously loud voice sounded in his ear, Jean bit back a shout. Jean whipped his face around, glaring, only to be met with Eren’s stupid face. He was way too damn close. Jean shoved him back. 

“What? What the hell do you want?” Jean snapped, his hazel eyes narrowed with distrusted. Venom seeped from his words, but Eren’s grin only seemed to grow larger. It was like Eren got more excited whenever Jean was pissed off. What a fucking weirdo. The arid stench of smoke and cigarettes lingered on Jean’s nape.

“Nuthin’ just wanted to check up on my favorite scrub’s doin’,” Eren crooned. He wore that stupid white tank top  he always wore to show off his arm muscles. His hair swept back in the half up do that he somehow made work. Grease swiped on the thigh of his jeans.

“Nothing! I'm doing nothing! Don't you have better things to do? Like fixing some cars? Or eye-fucking some other guy’s girlfriend?” Jean glared at the latter hoping to see a spark of surprise overcome his features, but instead Eren merely laughed. Like doubling over, belly shaking laughter. Jean’s nape burned, why was Eren laughing at him? His forehead clenched in a scowl.

“Why? Are you jealous? Y’know I met this really  nice girl the other day. Nicest body I’ve ever seen. Her name was something like, Daisy? Dahlia? I dunno but I could set you up if you want.”

“No. I don’t need you to do anything!” Jean snapped as he shoved Eren away as he got up from his  crouched position. Eren just laughed, again, as Jean bit his cheek as he resisted yelling at him. He walked stiffly to grab some more buckets of paint. He was setting down a large can when he heard commotion. Jean jerked his head to the side, catching sight of the girl that Eren was practically rubbing up against, being dragged along with her boyfriend who was fuming.

Damn, Jean knew where this was heading.

“Hey! You, Manbun! Are you the one who’s been eyeing my girl?” The man snapped, his dusty blonde hair whipping as he stomped up towards Eren who did not look the slightest bit concerned. Jean rolled his eyes and muttered that Eren deserved whatever was coming his way. The girl’s hands pleaded and clung to her boyfriend.

“Hm? Oh, her, well, maybe a little more then eyeing. Why? Yer her boytoy or something?” Eren mockingly held his hands up. His stupid grin on his face. The boy’s face practically turned red, it was like Jean could see the rage coil and fume. 

“You-!” The boy drew his fist back, his face twisted in rage as he plummeted his fist towards Eren’s face. Eren swerved easily and his right hook connected to the boy’s cheek. Jean literally did not know what to do. He quite literally was standing there awkwardly hidden behind his pyramid tower of paint buckets as the boys tussled with the redhead girlfriend in the back who was pitifully crying out to her boyfriend.

“Look guys please take this somewhere else-,” Jean started, exasperated but he was cut off by the two who shouted and grappled one another. Jean sighed, rolling eyes as he wearily looked at the two, stepping out of their fury. 

“I'm serious you idiots! Get the-,” Jean raised his voice before he was rudely cut off.

“Shut the fuck up you fag! I'm not talking to you!” The blonde boy snarled as he made an attempt to punt Eren again. Jean was flabbergasted as the hair on his neck bristled. He was just trying to de-escalate the fight but somehow he managed to also become a victim. Jean stiffened, as he was about to shout back in defense, but he was beaten by none other than Eren.

 “ You -!,” Eren’s face contorted into one of actual anger. It startled Jean as it was extremely different from his usual causal, teasing behavior. Eren’s fist met the boy’s nose, causing the blonde boy to fly back, swears flying through the air as blood spewed from his nose. Blood sprayed across the floor as the boy wobbled, clutching at his nose for a second before looking back up at Eren.

“You bitch-!” The boy snarled. His nose was bleeding profusely as he hastily wiped the blood with the back of his hand. Eren smiled stiffly, but he didn’t expect the boy to storm up to Eren and roughly shove him with his hands on both of Eren’s shoulders.

The next few seconds were almost in slow-motion. Eren faltered, his balance thrown off, his heels stumbling as he began falling back, the boy’s angered face with blood dripping down his chin as he sneered viciously.

Eren knocked into the tall stack of paint cans as Jean’s eyes watched the white paint slosh and spill viciously out of the cans’ metal lip. Jean, watching his hard work collapse in a matter of a few seconds as the white paint splattered all over his jeans and shirt, drenching him in the oily white paint from his chest down. 

White paint splattered itself all over Jean’s arms and legs as the loud clatter metal paint buckets sounded in Jean’s empty ears. They seemed to echo as time sped up once more as the metal cans rolled around on its side, sounding hollow and almost distant. Eren hadn’t fallen and was about to lunge to attack the guy once again, but he noticed the seeping white paint and turned around. Jean could almost see his heart drop and the color drained from his face. Jean slowly ripped his eyes away from his ruined clothing and looked back up at Eren, the latter’s face contorting into one of guilt as Jean locked eyes with Eren. 

Those stupid, stupid pools of green-blue. Eren. The one who had been tormenting him from the very beginning. The one who went out of his way to make Jean’s life living hell for the past week and a half. Rage bubbled in his chest as the blonde boy to his side wouldn’t shut up. Jean really didn’t think as he took a paint bucket and swung, the metal lips contacting the ridge of the boy’s bloody nose. It wasn’t a hard hit but the boy swore loudly, falling back, before he grabbed his girl’s hand to make a dash to his car.

But he was irreverent at that moment as Eren and Jean were too busy staring at one another. Jean let the paint bucket fall with a clatter and there was a moment of silence. Jean took his hand and swiped it down the front of his shirt before he flung his hand towards the ground, not minding as globs of white paint splattered on the ground. It wouldn’t matter anyways considering three paint buckets worth of paint were already splattered all over the ground along with half a dozen empty paint cans rolling around. 

“I’m so sorry, Jean. I’m so sorry it was an accident–,” Eren began, his face furrowed with guilt.

“Don’t ‘ sorry’ me! Don’t even fucking speak to me! I am always telling you to leave me alone!” Jean shouted, his voice vibrating and cracking with anger. He stormed past Eren to head to the back where the water hose was. Anger brewed in his belly as he jerkily yanked the water faucet on and began drenching his arms under it. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why? Why did Eren always feel the need to push and bother him? He was always there nagging, talking, bothering Jean every damn second. 

His shirt was getting drenched in the icy cold water as he furiously scrubbed his arms. The thick coat of white came off relatively easy but there was just so much of it. Eren emerged from the doorway, guilt riddling his face.

“Jean, I'm sorry, I really am!” Eren insisted, “I’m not joking, I'm sorry for getting paint all over you and making a big mess. I promise I’ll make it up to you!” He tried to take the hose from Jean’s hands.

“Eren! For christ’s sake! I don’t fucking like you! Why the fuck do you keep bothering me, and-and hanging around me! Jesus fucking christ! I don’t want you near me, so go the fuck away! ” Jean snapped, he snatched back the water hose and he spun around to furiously scrub his arm. Eren looked almost surprised, his jaw slightly slackened as his light eyes furrowed, showing a sort of hurt of a little boy. Eren looked as if Jean had hit him, physically. The Eren’s eyes almost made Jean feel bad.

Eren silently walked away, leaving Jean outside to wash himself off. For the next ten minutes Jean stood out there alone. Jean hiked his shirt over his shoulders to more thoroughly wash the paint out, luckily there was little to no paint on his shoes, but his pants and shirt were another story. He wrung out the water from his wrinkled and damp shirt as he hung it up on the chain-linked fence. He'd have to wait till his shirt dried to wash his pants since he’d much rather not walk around in his underwear. 

Jean heard the door open again and he spun around ready to snap, but words dried from his mouth. Jean saw Eren and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Eren was setting something down on the first step. Eren panicked and straightened himself when he saw that Jean was staring at him. Eren stared at Jean's lanky, pale shoulders, and his long torso. His green-blue eyes looked slightly downward before they snapped up.

“Uh, here. I just…” Eren awkwardly averted his eyes before sighing heavily and turning back to go into the warehouse. Jean waited a second before he carefully padded over to where Eren had set down a slightly worn rag with some new clothing. Jean huffed, a twinge of guilt sprung in his belly as he grabbed the towel to dry himself off before he peeled off his drenched jeans. He wrapped the towel around his waist to keep himself decent. He took another fifteen minutes to try to rid the pants of the white paint. His pants were pretty much unsalvageable, so he just gave up.

When he finished, he threw his jeans into a bin regretfully. His hair was still dripping and his skin was uncomfortably dry. He could still feel paint on his dried skin and he hated the scratchy feeling. He quickly changed into the large white shirt and gray cargo shorts which were presumably Eren’s spare. 

They smelled of stale motor oil and of that faint drawl of cigarettes. Jean felt the short’s pocket frowning as he felt a cylindrical lump in his short’s pocket. He reached in and withdrew a single cigarette. At first, Jean thought it was placed there by accident, but on closer inspection, Jean noticed a wobbly sprawl of blank ink that wrote, ‘i’m sorry’, and Jean knew what Eren had written on the cigarette for him.

He stared at the cigarette for a second before he put it into his pocket again. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t throw it out. 

When he went back into the warehouse where he found Eren mopping the floors, ridding the cement gray floors of the white paint. Large black bins were full of paper towels sopping wet with white paint and empty paint cans. Eren’s back was to Jean, as Jean watched Eren’s back relax and tense as he dragged the mop back and forth. Jean watched Eren diligently work for another few seconds before he spun around and left. 

He would have stayed and helped, but he couldn’t bring himself to stay around Eren much longer. He didn’t like the churning feeling he got. 

He was heading back to the main car repair shop, he ran into Zeke, Eren’s half brother who was smoking a cigarette as he leaned up against the wall. He would have missed the older man if he hadn’t called out to Jean. He was too lost in his thoughts. The bearded man looked over at Jean, his eyebrow quivering. 

“You okay? You look like a shivering, pathetic cat.” Zeke said, he took a drawl of his cigarette. He sleazily glanced at Jean from over his rimmed glasses. His thick beard looked just as sandy blond as his hair. Zeke was always a sort of recluse, always muttering to himself and fiddling with things. Jean never really talked to the latter, or really anyone at the shop. 

“Yeah it’s whatever. Eren got paint on me and I had to wash myself off.” Jean said stiffly as Zeke dryly chuckled. 

“What happened?”

“He got into some stupid fight. A girl's boyfriend shoved him and he knocked a shit ton of paint onto me. Fucking hooligens. He gave me a cigarette, to…apologize. Shallow bastard.” Jean snorted, but it was half hearted. For some reason, he felt bad about talking shit about Eren. Jean really didn’t know why. And the way Eren had been silently working on cleaning up the paint almost made Jean feel guilty. It was as if he were a completely different person then the front that Jean always saw.

“He gave you a cig? Really?”  Zeke asked, sounding a bit skeptical. 

“Yeah,” Jean withdrew the cigarette, careful not to show the writing on the cigarette. “Why?”

Zeke’s eye lingered on the cigarette before he turned away. He took a drawl of his own cigarette. He shrugged, “Dunno, those cancer sticks are sacred to him for some fucked reason. He doesn’t even let his good ol’ brother have any, nor any bitch he decides to knock up.”

Jean stared at Zeke for a moment, before he looked back at the cigarette. He rolled inbetween the pads of his fingers. He felt a twinge in his gut. But why him? Jean wasn’t really sure, but he tucked the cigarette back into his pocket. The sun felt hot on Jean’s nape.

Eren left Jean alone for the next few days. He was still acting like himself by all means, but he avoided Jean like he didn’t exist. He still flirted with girls, still had that cocky demeanor, still motor oil stained jeans and the same green-blue eyes. Though they never spared Jean a glance.

It made Jean feel weird, that feeling in his belly made him feel guilty, like he was in the wrong. He had said some harsh things. He saw the way Eren recoiled after Jean screamed at him, Jean hated that he saw those green-blue eyes furrow with hurt. Eren talked fine with the others in the shop, it was just him that was the problem.

The last two days were just lonely. Jean didn’t realize how much of Eren he had through his days and without the other boy, Jean’s hours in the mechanic shop were long and boring. On the third day of Eren’s absence, Jean made up his mind to confront the latter. When Eren was taking a smoke break in the back of the shop, Jean managed to talk to him. 

“You've been avoiding me, you asshole” Jean called. Eren was startled, as Jean walked closer while crossing his arms. Eren puffed out some smoke, trying to act as if he hadn’t been startled by Jean, but the way he shifted his weight told Jean that he was nervous. Eren swallowed dryly, as Jean raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“What are you talking about?” 

“You heard me. You’ve been avoiding me. Do you think I’m stupid?” Jean cocked his eyebrow.

“What? No, of course it’s just-,”

“It’s just what??”

“I don’t know. I just can’t seem to get you out of my head, it’s just– I mean- what I mean is, I thought you wanted this? I just feel bad, you know.” Eren said nervously as he glanced tentatively at Jean who sighed. Jean leaned his back on the wall as Eren eventually did the same, the both of them looking out on the field and dirt road that surrounded the shop. The tiny gutter above them provided a sliver of shade in the otherwise brittle sun.

“I’m not mad. I came here to— to, apologize. For yelling.” Jean bit back his pride as he basically. He didn’t like  apologizing or asking for forgiveness, especially not to guys like Eren, but he swallowed any bitter pride he had and forced out the apology. 

“Oh, that. It doesn’t matter. I know that I fucked up. I’m sorry too. For ruining things.” Eren said awkwardly. He still couldn’t seem to meet Jean’s eyes. 

“So, are we good?” Jean started as he glanced over at Eren, surprised to find that Eren was already staring intensely at Jean’s side profile. Jean locked eyes with him, as Eren seemed embarrassed to be caught, but Jean didn’t care, he wanted to hear Eren’s answer.

“Yeah, I suppose we are.” 

The relief that Jean felt was almost dumb. Jean never realized how dependent on Eren's existence he was. Since when did this happen? The tightening in his stomach was unexplainable. Jean felt as if he was doing something wrong again. As if he shouldn’t be around Eren.

But Jean insisted it was nothing. Nothing, when Eren smiled at Jean in that gut clenching way. Nothing, when the corner of Eren’s mouth curled around that cigarette. Nothing, when Eren let the smoke seep from his mouth as he leaned back on the wall as if he were in a daze. Nothing, when Jean felt the slight indentation of that cigarette in his back pocket that had the poorly written ‘i’m sorry’ on the barrel. 

It was nothing. 

3.

Eren went back to himself, more or less bothering Jean every chance he got.

Jean was in the middle of staring at two screws wondering if they were the same or if he were just blind when he felt vibrations on his thigh. Someone was tapping his knee. Jean looked up, God save the Queen still playing in his earbuds.

 It was Eren. Jean began to feel indifferent about Eren after the paint incident. Yes, he was still a pain in the ass, but he was thoughtful when he wanted to be. Sometimes Jean’s eyes followed Eren wherever he walked or looked for Eren every morning he came into the shop. It was embarrassing, but on days like this, when Eren was being annoying as hell, it was easy to push down those unfamiliar feelings in his stomach in replace of scorn.

  Jean rolled his eyes and yanked out his earbuds without pausing the music. Jean could hear the music faintly playing from the tiny speakers even though the earbuds weren’t in his ears. He should turn down the volume.

“What.” Jean said bluntly as he unfolded his legs from its cramped, crossed position. He felt the tingly rush of blood as he glared at Eren. He hoped Eren would say whatever dumb shit he wanted and then leave him alone, but apparently Eren had other plans.

“Carl sent both of us out to get lunch, you have to come with me.” Eren made a big show of twirling his keys on his finger which made Jean sneer. The keys and keychains jangled loudly. The jingle of the keys made Jean annoyed, as he pushed back the sounds of the keys jangling.

“Fuck off, why should I go with you?”

“Because you just look so pitiful sitting here alone, plus I’m your mentor as of right now. So,” Eren jerked his thumb to point over his shoulder, “get in the truck.”

Jean was about to refuse, not only because he wanted to make Eren annoyed but also because he didn’t want anything to do with the brown haired latter, but Jean thought it over. Would he rather sit here in the heat, suffering? Or suffer momentarily but in AC on his way to get food. Jean decided on the second option begrudgingly. 

“Fine. We go get food, and we come back. That’s it. And you’re not my mentor,” Jean sniffed as he hopped off the barrel as he brushed off the dirt on his ass. Eren flattened his lips and made an expression that was in between a that shit eating grin and a grimace.  Jean grumbled as he hefted the loops of his jeans to hitch his pants higher. He huffed as he pushed past Eren, stalking to the truck.

“Whatever you say, city boy.” Eren grinned at Jean who looked over his shoulder to spare him a glance. Jean’s chest jumped at Eren’s smile, but he didn’t say anything immediately. Jean just looked, letting his eyes peer at Eren’s sunbathed face as he willed his chest to stop thumping. Jean managed a snarky grin sneer. 

“Hillbilly.”

Jean was starting to think that maybe he should have refused going with Eren. It wasn’t like he was in danger or something, but he was extremely uncomfortable. Eren had a white pick up truck because of course he did, and now he was sitting in the front seat with Eren at the wheel. 

He drove smoothly with one hand on the wheel, and the other dangling out the window, a cigarette in hand, Jean leaned away each time he puffed smoke. He really should have been used to it by now, for Christ's sake he lived in the city, where there were lots of smokers practically everywhere you walked. 

Jean wasn’t sure why he hated the smoke so much, even with Marco smoking he demanded the freckled boy blow the acid smoke in the other direction. He didn’t really give it much thought as he listened to his blaring music. The wind tossed his hair back and Jean was lost in thought, until he felt Eren tap his thigh. Jean took out his earbuds and was about to snap at Eren when he was interrupted. 

“Hey, can you grab a light and light this for me?” Eren pointed to the newly placed cigarette in between his lips. He still had a hand on the wheel and his eyes on the rode. Jean was startled.

“Uhh,” He patted his chest instinctively where his lighter would have been in his leather jacket, “Sorry I don’t have mine with me.” 

“I meant my own, can you grab my lighter, it’s in the cup holder.” ” Eren said as he glanced at him, his lips quivering into a sort of amused smile. Jean scowled, but his ears burned a scarlet red as his head throbbed a painful rhythm. 

“I knew that.”

Eren had an eyebrow raised as Jean felt flustered. Jean fumbled for the lighter and watched as Eren lent closer to Jean’s direction, eyes glued onto Jean as the cigarette hung from his lips. Jean's heart skipped a beat, he could hear the rhythmic beat in his ears as he opened the metal lighter, the slight scrape of metal sounding familiar as he sparked a flame and charred the end of Eren’s cigarette. Eren pulled away bringing his two fingers to his lips to take a drag. Tendrils of smoke puffed from his mouth as he pulled the cigarette away. 

Jean turned away too. 

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Eren said casually, his eyes focused ahead. Jean rested his elbow on the edge of the window pane looking out. He had his leg hitched up to the seat as he stared out the window.

“What?”

“I mean you had a lighter in your pocket jacket.” 

“Oh. Well, I don’t. I don’t smoke, I mean.” Jean said slightly. His hazel eyes narrowed as he stared at Eren from the side of his eyes. Eren just queried his eyebrow, his mouth not curling into that infuriating smile. He just looked at Jean, his gaze furrowed as if he was trying to figure him out. Jean simply looked back to the road and drove in silence. Jean turned his head from Eren, looking back to the road, his gaze glossing over. 

They pulled up at a diner after another solid ten minutes of just driving, Jean slammed the door shut as he stepped into the dusty ground, following Eren into the diner. Braun’s Diner, that was the name of the restaurant Eren led them into. The glass door opened as a bell jingled. The diner was straight out of some disco themed magazine. The floors were black and white checkered with red leather booths and cushioned chairs. 

Sunlight poured in through the united windows as the atmosphere chattered with a rusty jukebox piped tunes throughout the diner. The walls scattered with stabled magazines of torn out images of Julia Roberts and Bruce Willis as well as printed movie posters. The air smelt faintly of smoke and hamburgers. Jean glanced around at the people seated in the booths, a group of teenage girls giggling and glancing. Their blue eyes peeking over, their red nails clinking of aluminum red Coke cans. 

 Eren slid his arms on the white marble countertop as he took a seat on one of those red cushions with Jean awkwardly following. Eren knocked his knuckles against the counter, his cigarette still in his mouth. 

“ ‘Rei! It’s your favorite customer.” Eren shouted, he puffed out more smoke through his shit eating grin. It was similar to the grin Jean always saw, but perhaps a bit friendlier. Jean never realized how…animated Eren could be, other than being snarky and incessantly annoying Jean.

There was a shuffle in the busy kitchen before a blonde man emerged, pearing gray-green eyes around the corner. His face was flawless, with honey-tinted skin and sunny blond hair cropped on his forehead with darker roots. His face was rounded and angular at the same time. A handsome face. He was a tall guy, with a swelling body and muscled arms. He wore a button up red, plaid shirt with a black apron cinched around his small waist. He held a waiter’s platter under his arm. He had a bit of scruff as he huffed and went over and snatched Eren's cigarette. 

“What have I told you Eren! No smoking in the diner!” 

“Whatever Rei, you know Bert and Annie are both smokers right?” That grin again. Eren was fully facing Reiner, his arm crossed and resting on the table as tendrils of his dark brown hair fell on his forehead. His emerald and blue eyes glinted snarkily as they both watched the blonde guy put out the cigarette on an ashtray. 

The guy, ‘Rei’, huffed as he eventually grinned good naturally. He was a brimming, warm guy who’s eyes slid over to Jean with unfaltering friendliness. Jean had spent the past few minutes darting his eyes around the diner trying not to make it too awkward.

“Eren! Introduce me to your friend!” ‘Rei’ exclaimed as Jean abruptly corrected him.

“Not friend, co-worker. I’m Jean Kirstein, nice to meet you.” Jean shot Reiner a satisfied grin. Honestly, any time he was given the chance to one-up Eren, he took it. Any spark of annoyance that came from Eren caused Jean satisfaction. 

“Okay co-worker,” ‘Rei’ quirked his eyebrows before his face melted into a grin.

“My name’s Reiner, or you can call me Rei. If you're not Eren’s friend, then I can understand that, he’s a tough guy to like.” 

Jean just grinned back. Eren just scoffed incredulously. 

“Oh! I should introduce you to Bertholdt and Annie. I think Annie’s on her smoke break, in the middle of rush hour too. For now, Jean, here, order something. It’s on the house!” Reiner shook his head with a friendly smile as he slid a menu over to Jean.

“Same thing for you, Eren?” Rean prompted 

“You know it Rei,” Eren clicked his teeth, his harp canines glinting as Reiner smiled and was whisked away to the back. Jean was left alone with Eren to skim the plastic menu in his hands. He looked over the milkshakes and delicious, meaty burgers and he suddenly felt like he was starving. 

“Reiner’s a character, ain’t he?” Eren looked fondly at Reiner’s back as he bustled around in the kitchen. Eren reached over to grab a toothpick. Jean watched as Eren twirled the wooden toothpick in between his fingers like a cigarette before he brought it to his lips to hold between his teeth. They sat there, leaning on the diner’s counter, Jean playing with a napkin and Eren twirling the toothpick as if he were smoking. 

Reiner came back with a burger and a fresh batch of fries for Eren.

“There you go, Eren, for my favorite customer.” Reiner smiled as behind him a hulking, lanky figure emerged from behind, followed with a petite blonde haired girl. Reiner glanced back, his face bursted with friendliness. 

“Annie! Bert! This is Jean, Jean, these two are my childhood friends slash co-workers: Annie Leonhart and Bertolt Hoover.” Reiner introduced. 

Bert, who Jean came to know as Bertolt Hoover, was tall. His frame was sort of lanky and gangly, especially with the way he held himself sort of awkward and estranged. He seemed to slouch over Reiner, like a giraffe who didn’t know what to do with his arms. Timid, and yet unfriendly. His hooked nose, his dark hair and soulless gray eyes that only ever looked at Reiner, his stare hostile to anyone else. 

Annie Leonhart was almost just as unfriendly. Her stoic face made of sharp edges. She was gorgeous. Scary. But gorgeous. With her hooked nose, marble skin and cold hard eyes. Her lips are thin and red. Jean could see necklaces dangling around her neck.Her dusty blonde hair tired back with fringe falling over her left eye all sloppy and put up as if she were in a hurry. Her lashes were a dull blonde with faint scars marking her face in pale strokes.

The corner of Jean’s mouth snagged up into a half-smirk-half-smile, wavering a bit when neither of them smiled back. Bertolt kind of just nodded and half smiled before hurrying back into the kitchen while Annie just stared before she turned and left the bar table to go take another customer’s order.

“Ouch, tough crowd Jeanie boy?” Eren said with fake sympathy as Jean scowled. Eren had his head rested on his left arm so he could properly stare at Jean and just laughed his ass off as Eren stuffed his mouth with more fries.

“Don’t mind them, they’re just kind of protective. And distant. Anyways, can I take your order?” Reiner asked. He reaches to withdraw his notepad and pen, flipping pages.

“Uh, sure. I’ll have a cheeseburger and chocolate milkshake.” 

And Jean spent the next week ordering the same food. Cheeseburger and chocolate milkshake. He would idly converse with Reiner and occasionally with Eren just to bicker and whatnot. Even Bertholt began talking to him in a more friendly manner. Jean laughed and sneered, not wanting to think about the fact that he literally was enjoying the presence of Eren.

He became more of a regular at Braun’s diner. Annie no longer rolled her eyes when he strolled in and asked for ‘the regular’. Eren became only slightly more tolerable, occasionally they played poker, trading whatever cigarettes, hard candy, folded bills or condoms they had in their pockets.

(Cigarettes and the latter came from Eren of course, much to Jean’s disgust. “Why the fuck do you have condoms right now,” Jean muttered and Eren just laughed).

He would stay an hour to eat and chat and it was probably the highlight of his week since there was little to no entertainment elsewhere. Maybe he was seeing too much of Eren these days, it seemed to drive Jean insane to the point he saw his face when he closed his eyes. How irritating.  The food was absolutely delicious and honestly Jean would be licking his plate and fingers but he refrained since he was out in public.

“When did you meet the three?” Jean had asked randomly one day. There was a pause of silence, and Jean wondered if he had said something wrong. Eren just stared at his food, leaving Jean awkwardly just staring at Eren’s side profile. Eren’s jaw was unclenching and clenching slowly as he ate a french fry.

“ Met him, when we were thirteen, ‘bout six years. I was bleeding out in some alleyway.” Eren said after a second of silence. He knocked the straw around his glass. Jean just stared at him, his own syrupy brown gaze met Eren’s. Jean stared into the pool of green-blue before he finally dragged his eyes away.

“Bleeding?” Jean numbly ventured. Eren’s voice lost that edge to it. Jean had learned a bit too much about Eren. He knew what his nervous ticks were. The clench of his jaw, the vein on his neck and pulse of his Adam’s Apple. Jean noticed them against his will. Jean suddenly felt like he was intruding on something.

“From my dear old dad.” Eren said, “But he’s gone now anyways. I don’t care.” 

Oh, but he did. Jean could tell. Eren had a forced smirk on his face, and his knuckles were squeezing around his glass till his knuckles went white. His throat quaked as if he was swallowing words. Jean wanted to catch those green-blue pools again, but they weren’t looking at him anymore. 

“Reiner bandaged me up right in this diner. He was only sixteen. He’d gone through the same thing. Had an abusive drunk for a dad. That's why Bert and Annie are so protective of him. They’re all childhood friends y’know? As much shit Annie talks about Reiner, she cares for him, a little at least. Tough love. And Bert is Bert, I think he cares more 'about Reiner then Reiner does for himself.”

“You’ve known them a while.” Jean said more as a statement than a question, but Eren answered anyway. 

“Forever. Since that day we’ve stuck. I was convinced that Reiner was sum angel.”

Jean looked away, his fingers dropping to his lap where it grazed the slight indent in his pocket of a cigarette-shaped lump.

Jean was going to mass, against his will really. His father had insisted. 

And so he put on his jeans, a button up his father forced him to put on and shoes. His father had worn his only non dirty button up and Karen a blue dress and they were off. His father had shaved and Karen had feathered on her pale blue eye makeup and her pink lipgloss. Jean sat on the steps of the RV listening to Nirniva.

 It was way too early in the morning, 9am when they arrived at the cathedral and took their stand at the wooden pews. The room was barren of decorations with the exception of a couple windows and the huge mosaic in front of him. People mingled in their well-dressed cliques and the choir bustled around. His father greeted a crowd of men with Karen close behind. They greeted people with fake kindness. 

People were staring at Jean, as if asking who he was and why he was here. Jean hardly knew what he was doing at this church. He didn’t belong in a place like this. The mosaic’s glittering shards of glass glinted down at him, it depicted the three crosses, Jesus, and the Virgin Mary. His eyes lingered at the last figure. Her pitiful face was too pale and translucent, her eyelashes white as her skin. A red cloth over her head, her face seemed devoid of features as if she hadn’t asked for this burden. For this eternity of pain from bearing god’s son.

In which she would never be more than her creation, her own son.

He didn’t believe in god. Just of sinners. And Jean was sure that he was a sinner. 

He lowered his eyes as the priest took his stand and everyone shuffled into their places to begin the beginning rites. Only then had Jean looked over and seen Eren standing in the back. 

He hadn’t dressed up, he was still wearing his jeans, white tee, with his black boots and unlit cigarette in his mouth. He was not wearing anything remotely fitting for mass and yet he stood there. Eren glanced at Jean, noticing how the latter was staring and Eren’s lips curled into a smile. Jean looked away quickly as if he was caught doing something wrong.

 A second later when Jean stole another glance at Eren he was already looking back at him. Jean could vaguely hear the priest was saying something about the damnation of hell and the eternity of sin, but Eren stood there unafraid of eternity.

4.

“HEY, Jeanboy, wanna come with me to a party? Reiner’s hosting because his family’s going to be visiting his cousins over in Idaho for the weekend.” 

Eren has been hanging around Jean a bit too much lately. He’s there at every corner, just lurking, cigarette in hand, but what was worse was that Jean was getting used to seeing his face, in fact he couldn’t think of anything vile to say about Eren’s face anymore. God, they’ve been spending too much time together. 

 Jean, who was laying on the hood of a red mustang that Eren was working on, raised a brow at the latter. Jean held a worn, dog-eared book, the worn pages feeling soft as he laid on his stomach which his chin propped up on his hand. 

“Why would I do that?” Jean sniffed, distantfully as he flipped a page daintily with his pinkie poised in the air, nose wrinkling. Eren just grinned. It was nearing five pm, and Jean was excited to finally get home away from the heat and this mindless idiot.

“Cuz you’ve got no other friends.” 

“You bastard! It’s only because I'm miles away from home- and stop wiping your dirty ass hands on your jeans you dirty bitch!” Jean snapped as he threw a rag at Eren’s face. Eren grinned as he snatched it in midair and clumsily used it to wipe his hands. He made a big show of it. The air was humid, almost unbearably hot. Jean’s neck slick with sweat as he dragged the back of his wrist over his sweaty forehead. 

“Fuck it’s hot as hell.” Jean muttered. Sweat rolled off his nose and dripped onto his hand. Eren echoed his complaint, he popped back up from under the car. He had grease smeared on his knuckles.

“Yeah no shit.” Eren snorted. He watched as Eren reached back to yank his white tank up from over his head, exposing his naked torso. Jean kinda froze. He was practically half naked, glistening with sweat rippling over his firm abdomen. His right hand trailed down his chest, down the expanse of his torso down, and down to his waistband. His pants hung low on his hips and it sent a shiver of heat down Jean’s spine despite the heat. 

“You’re staring, Jeanboy ,” Eren said coyly, as Jean snorted. Eren was grinning like a wolf. 

“Yeah right you shit, shuddup.” Jean muttered as he turned back to his book. He told himself that the heat in his ears was from the sun and not because he was embarrassed. He heard the low chuckle of Eren’s voice. It rumbled in Jean’s ear as he rolled his eyes. 

“Whatcha reading?” Eren’s voice suddenly seemed a lot closer then before and as Jean whipped his head around he could hardly breathe. Eren had propped his hands on either side of Jean’s thighs, leaning forward till Eren’s abdomen grazed Jean’s ass. His head was close to Jean’s just peeking over Jean’s head. Jean’s breath hitched as Eren’s face looked down at Jean, his smirk still looking down on Jean. 

Jean panicked as he shoved Eren’s chest away, “Ugh! Get off! You're so gross.” 

Eren was laughing like a maniac as Jean snapped his eyes back to his book, the disinterested look back on his face as Eren let out a thunderous laugh. He tried not to show his flustered expression but his face was a flaming mess. Oh God. What the hell was he doing? Jean bit the inside of his cheek as he stiffly flipped the page and tried to continue reading.

“God, your little pissed off expression makes me want to tease you more.”

“Shut the hell up Jaeger.”  Jean could feel Eren grin on him.

“Anyways, you comin’ Jeanboy? To Reiner’s little rager?” Eren leaned on the hood of the red car, his face fully facing Jean. Strands of his chocolate brown hair fell over his forehead as he leant down. His glittering sea blue eyes looked like jewels, or glittering pools of water. Jean was faultlessly drawn to his eyes, to him. He looked a bit too long at Jean’s face, those pool green eyes drifting down, low to Jean’s cheekbones, and lips, and then back up. Jean rolled his eyes, ears burning.

“No, probably not. My dad wouldn’t let me-,” Jean began some bullshit excuse, he couldn’t bring himself to take his gaze off of Eren’s face. Jean hoped Eren would just take the excuse, but Eren somehow knew Jean was lying so he just turned around and shouted.

“Hey Mr. Kirstein!” Eren called. Jean’s dad turned from the hood of a black mustang, as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Jean’s heart jolted at his father’s upset face. Jean’s father cocked his eyebrow towards the direction of the two boys.

“Can Jeanbo-, sorry, can Jean come with me to hangout? It’s gonna be a little get together y’know, lowkey.” Eren shouted, grinning widely, Jean sat up in a panic. He willed his father to say no. He’d deal with his anger later. But to Jean{s surprise, he shrugged before he turned back to his car

“ I don give a shit,” Fuck.

Eren turned back to Jean with the most shit eating grin on his face. Jean sighed heavily, his chest rumbling as he stared back at Eren. Eren leaned forward the slightest bit so he could slightly look down at Jean. It was clear victory was sprawled all over Eren’s face and it annoyed Jean.

“I’ll see you tonight Jeanboy, 6pm?” Eren quirked his eyebrow.

“Oh eat shit Jaeger.” 

Eren just chuckled, “ I’ll pick you up at 6. Look good, Jean.”

Jean was in his dad’s tiny bathroom, changing into new clothing for this alleged party. Jean pulled on baggy blue jeans that sat low, and loose on the wing of his hip bone with a studded belt that looped on his hips. He wore a black band tee and combed his fingers through his hair with gel. He was toying with the hem of his shirt when he suddenly wondered if he looked too…gay. He didn’t want to look gay. He recalled how his father had called him a slur once when he was upset with Jean a couple summers back.

His father would definitely say something about his rings, so he hurriedly took off the jewelry and tucked them into his pockets. He’d just put them on later. He grabbed his shoes and then laced up his battered converse. 

He heard the door open and he spun around seeing Karen at the entrance. She was wearing this silky top and skinny black jeans. Her blue eyeshadow was chalky and powdery, and Jean suddenly wished that he had locked the door. Her blue eyes roamed Jean’s face and body. 

“Oh Jean! I didn’t realize you were here!” Karen grinned, her blond hair tucked behind her right ear. Yet, despite saying that she took a step closer. She had a sparkly pink gloss with a cheap fragrance and she was moving too close in. Jean took a tentative step back, weary. Jean saw as her pink nails reached for his chest and then suddenly Jean couldn’t breath.

“I heard from your dad that you’re going to a party?” Karen said, she swirled her body so she was fully facing Jean. He felt trapped and utterly pinned. He didn’t know what she wanted from him.

“Uh, yes?”

“Going there to pick up some girls? Hmm? Sneaky ,” Karen said coyly she poked Jean’s chest. This felt strange. Her eyes roamed Jean as if he were a sack of meat. Jean’s eyes glanced into her icey blue ones, and suddenly was reminded of those all too familiar green blue eyes. But this felt different. Intrusive and foreign. Jean didn’t like it.

"What-?," 

"You don't need to lie," Karen giggled, "I was once your age you know. You're practically an adult . Eighteen was it?” 

Seventeen.

And then to herself, “ I didn’t realize that you’d look so mature.” Her voice was a breathy whisper, practically a moan as she grazed her hands on Jean. One of her hands found Jean’s wrist.  Jean froze, unable to move or speak as Karen just kept leaning in, until there was a noisy honk that broke the uncomfortable silence. It was like glass had shattered, as Karen jolted and Jean broke from his dazed state. Eren.

“I’m leaving,” Jean jerked his hand away from Karen’s grasp and hurriedly left the bathroom. His breathing was tight as he opened and slammed the door of the RV. He saw Eren’s familiar white pick up and Jean almost felt relief as he saw Eren leaning on the hood of the care. He looked clean for once, a pair of new blue jeans and a black sleeveless tee with those scuffed boots. He had a cigarette in between his fingers, his hair back in his iconic half up half down do. And he was smiling. Jean hurriedly walked toward Eren, who was looking Jean’s outfit up and down. 

“Hey, ready?” Eren asked, puffing out a cloud of smoke. Jean was getting used to the smell of heavy nicotine. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess. Let’s just go.” Jean muttered as he jerked open the passenger seat’s door. He heard Eren laugh as he threw the cigarette onto the ground, stomped on it, before he headed to the diver’s side. Jean pushed back the whole ordeal with Karen and ignored the way it made his skin crawl. He should have been flattered after all. He been appealing to an attractive, older lady, and it wasn’t like he was a kid-kid. He was seventeen after all, almost an adult.

Eren was talking, but Jean didn’t really hear anything as Eren backed out of the makeshift driveway. Eren’s left hand hung out of the window as he drove with the other hand.

He pushed away those thoughts. He’d deal with it later. He had a party to attend.

“So, who’s going to be here?” Jean asked after a moment of silence. Eren was already lighting another cigarette before he shrugged. The sour smell of smoke flitted through the truck. 

“Eh, lots of new people. Reiner’s quite the popular one you know. Have you drank before? Like actual beer?” Eren asked. His left wrist rested on top of the steering wheel, cigarette in hand while the other cranked up the radio.

"Yeah, I went to parties. Snuck my friends' booze a couple times, it was alright I guess." Jean was lying through his teeth. Not about the booze part but with how well he took it. When they were around sixteen, Connie had managed to sneak out a bottle of his dad's whisky in a brown paper bag, and using a paper cup they took 'shots' in the skatepark at like two am in the morning. 

Needless to say, whiskey was too strong for Jean's and he ended up throwing up in the bushes nearby. It was possibly the worst time of Jean's life. He drank several more times at local frat parties his friends snuck into, usually mixtures of light alcohol and fruity juice mixed in, with relative success. 

People would rather snort coke in dirty public bathrooms than guzzle alcohol from a beer keg or whatever these guys did for fun. His tolerance was fine, for his age anyways.

"Hm, wonder what drunk Jean is like. I wonder if he's as irritating as sober Jean is," Eren chuckled as Jean just scowled. There was a nervous churn in his belly for some reason.

"I am perfectly fine drunk, actually."

"Oh, I’m sure." 

The atmosphere was comfortable and timid as the strum of the radio relaxed Jean's nerves. It was almost pleasant, the darkness of the evening settling into twilight. Jean almost fell asleep by the time Eren pulled up onto Reiner's house.

"We're here." Eren announced as Jean jolted out of his half awake state. Jean peered out, taking in Reiner's supposed house. It was a modest ranch house, with a porch with one of those bench swings. Reiner's parents owned a modest amount of land. Jean noticed that the front door was actually open, and the people from the inside were pouring out, red solo cups in their hands.

"I didn't realize you country people actually threw good ragers," Jean said as he got out of Eren's truck. 

Eren laughed, "Of course, and we have actual booze too. Not any of that vanilla shit. Wait till you see the keg that Reiner got. You'll never be the same, city boy," 

Jean just scoffed, he was...nervous. This was definitely no small get together but he was not going to show Eren, over his dead body. Jean walked a step behind Eren as they approached the porch, immediately people recognized Eren and began shouting his name. They clapped his back as if he were some sort of god, laughing and chatting. The sounds were deafening. 

"Eren! Where have you been?! Mik has been looking for you!" A tall, rambunctious girl threw her arm around Eren's shoulder. She had dark brown hair, cut real short, just below her ears as it edged around nape. She had brown eyes and tan skin with freckles that dotted the bridge of her sharp nose and sharp cheekbones. She wore a dark colored flannel and a cropped black shirt under the usual blue jeans.

It took a couple seconds for her gaze to slip to Jean, where her smirk grew. She must have thought that Jean looked like a scared animal because she threw her head back and laughed so damn loud as if she had heard the funniest joke.

"Ohhh, is this the city chump you were talking about?" The girl guffawed when she collected herself. Eren smiled back at Jean, he reached out and used his right hand to pull Jean closer to them. Jean stumbled over his feet.

"The one and only."

"Oh? Well the name's Ymir. If yer a downer, then I'll be the one to kick your sorry ass out, city boy." The girl, Ymir, punched Jean's shoulder.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. He's my ride anyways," he shrugged. He lifted his chin, staring down Ymir even though she was much more intimidating. He managed a snarky smile through his bundle of nerves.

"I'm Jean." 

"Don't get too cocky now city boy, this is our turf." Ymri said and Jean wasn't sure if she was joking, but his answer came in the form of a short, sweet, blonde haired girl. She had pushed through the crowd to Ymir's side as she grabbed Ymir's shoulder and arm. She had a crown of honey blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her skin was as pale and smooth as milk, she was pretty. She wore a pretty pastel dress and she smiled at Jean apologetically.

"She's kidding, Ymir, stop being mean. Sorry she's like that with everyone. I'm Historia, nice to meet you!" Historia smiled up at Jean and he smiled back.

"Doesn't matter. Anyways, pleasure's mine." Jean thought she looked cute as hell. 

"Anyways, let's get this city boy the real taste of country life!" Eren ushered Jean into the house, pushing past people, his hands secured at Jean's shoulder. Holy hell there were a bunch of people. Jean was sure the entire town was packed into Reiner’s house. Jean's nerves grew as more and more people greeted Eren. Their eyes slipped to Jean and he wasn't sure if he was getting judged or not. Eren returned their greetings with relative friendliness.

"Jean! Eren! Glad you guys could make it!" Reiner's voice sounded. Jean turned around, seeing Reiner heading towards them with the tall Bertolt right behind him. Reiner was already slightly tipsy, his words slightly slurred as he was leaning on Bertholdt. Annie was nowhere in sight, probably lost in the crowd of people. The house was blaring with music, as people danced and chatted, all of them drinking as they fell on one another. 

"Nice party," Jean said, a snarky smile on his face. He was glad to see some people he knew.

"Thanks Jean! Thank you for coming," Reiner said before stumbling away, he was already saying hello to another person. Bertholdt smiled hello at Jean and Eren before he followed Reiner.

"Jeez, those two are inseparable." Eren laughed and Jean agreed.

"Eren!" Jean and Eren spun around as Jean saw a blonde haired boy and a black haired girl push over towards them. The boy had short blonde hair, his face gently sloped with friendly blue eyes with a nice demeanor. He wore a blue buttoned up that matched his eyes nicely. He seemed cool, but Jean forgot all about him once he turned his head.

The girl next to him. Holy shit. She was possibly the most beautiful girl that he had ever seen. With porcelain skin and perfectly shaped lips, she was a goddess. She had dark gray eyes and dark short black hair. It was a bit short for his taste but that didn't even matter. He was floored, absolutely floored. 

"Hey, Mikasa, Armin, this is Jean. The one I was telling you about." Eren introduced them, but Jean could hardly register it. He was busy staring at Mikasa. 

"Nice to meet you Jean! Are you staying in Illinois for long?" The boy, Armin, asked.

"Uh, yeah kinda, till the end of this month, so about two weeks left. Uh, till I get to go home." Jean stammered over his words. The mystery girl just stood there silently, and elegantly. She was wearing simple clothing, blue threads, flat sneakers, and a black long sleeved shirt that hung low on her shoulders. Her collarbones were milk white. He was staring, how embarrassing. Armin nodded, saying something Jean didn't hear.

"Hey, Mik, Armin, can you grab some drinks real quick? I'm gonna introduce Jean to the others." Eren said as they slipped away. Mikasa. The girl- Mikasa- nodded and slipped away. As Eren guided Jean deeper into the throng of people, he was still thinking about Mikasa.

"Y'know, Mikasa's taken. Sorry bud. No use staring at her." Eren said. His tone was a bit cool, his gaze darting around. Jean's face flushed a red as he whipped his head around and stared at Eren's side profile. His face burned in embarrassment and he was sure Eren could feel the heat radiate from Jean’s cheeks.

"Wha-What are you talking about?" 

"I said what I said, so don't do anything weird. It's embarrassing."

Eren just shrugged and grabbed a cigarette out of his pocket. He looked actually annoyed, as if Jean had done something to personally offend him.

“Whatever,” Jean scowled, he didn't say much of anything else as he broke away from Eren's grasp towards where he thought he kitchen was. He needed a drink. Eren, who seemed to realize what Jean was doing, protested but Jean lost him in the mob of people as a couple of girls approached Eren, all flirty or whatever. 

Well, fuck him. Yeah, maybe he was being unreasonably upset but whatever, fuck him. He saw a bunch of unfamiliar faces but he didn't really bring himself to care as he grabbed a bottle of beer from an ice bucket. He wasn't sure on how he could uncork the metal cap, when someone swooped in. 

"Hey, need some help," Jean glanced up, there was a brown haired guy leaning on the counter. His brown hair was slicked back and his eyes were the richest shade of syrupy brown Jean has ever seen. His demeanor, his voice, was all assertive and friendly. He wore a letterman jacket, Jean wasn't sure how because it was hot as hell in this house.

"Sure." Jean lent the bottle's cap towards the boy, who used a bottle opener to pop open the bottle. Jean thanked the boy and then took a swig of beer. The strong, tangy liquid burned his throat as if he had drunk straight rubbing alcohol or had accidentally inhaled water at the pool. Either way, it was gross but he didn’t put the bottle down.

"You're not from here, are you?" The boy said, he had a smile on his face.

"No, I’d ask how’d you know but apparently everyone knows that about me." Jean said bitterly as he took another swig. This time it was a bit easier to push down.

"Huh, well I guess you just kinda stand out. People talk y'know. I'm Marcel by the way. I'm one of Reiner's friends. Eren talked a shit ton about you." Marcel smiled. He had a kind face, tan skin with pale freckles that faintly kissed his cheekbones and a bump in his nose. He had a crooked smile that sort of quirked in the corner.

"So I've heard.”

“Want me to show you around? We can get you more beer." Marcel offered. 

Jean shrugged, "Sure. I'm down."

The next few hours were a blur. Marcel introduced him to his other friends, Peick, Zeke and others Jean couldn't even remember. They guzzled beer by the cup-fulls. People Jean didn't even know pushed cups full of beer that came from the keg to Jean's lips and Jean drank. Jean was getting drunker and drunker as his head pounded. He was still able to walk somewhat well as he slipped in and out of a hazy state. People danced, grinded and made out in every corner of the house, once Jean completely just tripped over a girl who was blowing some guy. It would have been more embarrassing if Jean wasn't drunk as hell. 

He ran into Reiner and Bertholdt again, and even Annie. He said hello and talked for a bit but eventually he was pulled back into the crowd. He ignored Mikasa and Armin, even avoiding them because he knew Eren would be with them. 

The music was deafeningly loud but he didn't care. He talked to people he never met before and even flirted with some girls. They pulled him in by his belt, admired his height and ran their hands on his chest. Their lips found Jean but he pushed them away when he felt like the alcohol was hitting him. He didn't know their names nor cared when they eventually made out with some other guy. He pushed them away, reminded a bit too much of Karen and her advances. He was eventually sobering a bit, after he rejected the offers of booze. His head was killing him. 

He headed toward the bathroom so he could wash his face. The door was closed and the light was on but he didn't care as he slammed open the door. He saw a couple sitting in the bathtub, and it didn't register in his head that it was Eren and Mikasa. Even when he recognized the faces, Jean just blinked. Eren had his arm around Mikasa and was smoking. His shirt was flung over Mikasa whose pants were nowhere in sight. She was leaning her head on Eren while she also smoked.

"Jean, where have you been!? I was worried," Eren peeled himself from Mikasa. She didn’t look the slightest bit surprised or embarrassed even though she was just in her underwear and Eren’s shirt. Jean in his drunk state was able to put two and two together and slammed the door shut again.

God , it all made sense. If Eren was the one Mikasa was dating then of course Eren would be pissed at him. He didn't need to be so rude about it though, Jean hadn't even done anything. Whatever, fuck them. His ears burned. God, he was jealous. He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize that he had run into Marcel on the porch who had been looking for him. 

"Woah! Jean, you okay?" Marcel was close to Jean's face, peering up at him a bit confused.

"Yeah, I'm all good. Drunk as hell." Marcel tossed Jean a water and Jean gladly accepted. Jean was glad for Marcel, the charismatic boy made things so much easier to have fun. Easier to forget Eren and his shit. Marcel hummed good naturedly before he half laughed, his brown eyes shooting a look at Jean.

"You sure? Because you look like shit.”

Jean dryly laughed as Marcel shot him a smile. Marcel reached into his back pocket and pulled out a cigarette box and slipped one between his own lips, he offered the box to Jean. Jean blinked as he looked at Marcel.

“You want a cig?" Marcel offered him one, and Jean wasn't sure why he thought of Eren. He wasn’t sure why he took the cigarette from Marcel's fingers.

"Yo, Mars!" A voice sounded behind Marcel as a blonde haired boy launched his arm around Marcel. The boy was clearly drunk, his tan skin flushed a red. Pale, sun-bleached freckles dotted his cheekbones and his pale lashes were only half opened. He smelt strongly of booze.  He looked similar to Marcel with his blonde hair and black undercut. He wore a leather jacket with a white tee and blue jeans. He looked vaguely familiar, but Jean just couldn’t put two and two together. He noticed Jean.

"Are you Jean?"

"How did you know that?" 

The blonde boy blinked, as if he didn't expect Jean to admit it, before he started laughing. Jean just stared at him. It was probably another one of Eren’s friends, one among many he blabbed about Jean to. Jean would be upset that Eren was talking about him behind his back, but he supposed that would be hypocritical of him since he did the same with Eren.

"Holy shit. Holy shit! You’re the guy that the Jaeger bastard has been runnin' his mouth 'bout how he'd-"

"Hey Pokko- oh sorry- Porco. Just shut up man, you're drunk as hell." Eren's voice suddenly sounded behind. Jean jolted his head up as he made eye contact with Eren. He looked annoyed. His gaze sliding towards Marcel who was facing Jean, the cigarette in Jean’s hands. Everything seemed misplaced. Those bitter green blue eyes came back to Jean, and it nearly made his knees buckle from standing so stiffly. Eren had gotten his shirt back, his hair a bit messy with a stupid cigarette in his mouth. 

"Stop calling me that!" Porco shouted drunkenly, Marcel looked apologetically as he excused himself while he hauled his, who Jean just realized was his brother, away.

"I'll see you later Jean." Marcel called from over his shoulder. Jean half acknowledged Marcel with a half smile, but he was busy staring Eren down. Jean slowly reached over to grab a bottle of beer and took a big drink to make a big show of it. Eren's gaze was unrelenting. 

“Are you going to say something? Or do you plan on just staring?” Jean raised a brow as he took a drink of beer. His eyes never left Eren, who was still not speaking.

Most people who had lingered on the porch had either gone home or moved into the backyard or in the house,so it was just the two of them standing in the half lit moonlight. It was quiet as the sounds of crickets and hearts thumped in the atmosphere. Jean rolled his eyes as he pushed past Eren to go down the porch's stairs, when Eren grabbed Jean's wrist.

"Where have you been? You realize that I am the one responsible for you tonight. I have to make sure you get home safe." Eren said sternly, as if Jean were a kid. Jean flung Eren's hand off before he heavily sat down on the stairs.

"Oh piss off, both you and I know that my dad doesn't care that much about me." Jean muttered bitterly as he took a drink of beer. Eren hesitated before he sat down next to Jean on the stairs. The music hummed in the background, some loud country song Jean didn’t really pay attention to. He was beginning to grow used to the southern drawl. It was quiet, before Jean interjected. 

"If you were dating Mikasa, you could have just told me, you dumbfuck." Jean muttered, he tipped the bottle into his mouth again as he heard Eren sigh heavily.

"We're not...dating. We’re just really close." Eren muttered and it caused Jean to scoff.

"Oh, right, forgot, you're just the type of guy to get with any girl, dating or not. " Jean mocked, Eren tensed up, but Jean was already turning away. He took another drink, as he rested his bottle on his knees, grabbing it again when he realized how easily it would fall. He wanted to leave. Only then he realized how his joints ached and how heavy his eyes were. The stars and moon were becoming blurry. 

“I swear we aren’t dating. She’s like family, ‘cause her parents died when she was young, and the only reason we were half dressed was because some bastard poured his beer all over her.”

“...Oh.” Now Jean was the only one who felt like an asshole.

"Mikasa's not even dating anyone."

"Huh?”

“I said, Mikasa’s not dating anyone. I’m not dating anyone.” Eren muttered.

“...Um. Okay? Why would you even say she was dating some guy if she isn't?" Jean said, his voice was slightly slurring, his eyesight a blur as he stared at Eren.

He probably drank too much beer, but he was suddenly becoming aware of Eren’s face despite the fact he saw it nearly everyday. There was a pale pink cleft of a tiny scar on his jaw, red acne scars on the apples of his cheek and the tiniest mole on the side of his nose. Speckled white blemishes over his otherwise flawless skin. His dark, thick lashes and furrowed brows were a dark oak color.

He could hardly get a read on the other boy. It was strange. Eren was strange. He spent too much time in Jean’s thoughts and it was infuriating. He hated Eren, but he consumed Jean’s every waking thought. It was like they were obsessed with each other. 

"I just…wanted you to stay away from her." Eren's hands rubbed at his forehead and temple. Eren bent his head down as if he were ashamed. It was a strange sight, seeing Eren so pitiful.  Jean just frowned at the other, not even upset, just confused.

"But why? I’m not that shitty of a person. Am I?" Jean was confused, maybe it was the alcohol, but he couldn't help but lean into Eren.

Jean didn’t realize how close he had gotten to Eren, his breath probably smelled like booze. Jean was so close to the point he could smell Eren’s cologne. There were mere inches between the two and still Jean was drawn to Eren. The air was buzzing, the atmosphere shifting from cold, to tense, and to hot. Red hot.

"Well, because...!”

“-Because what? Because you’re a bitter flirt who doesn’t want anyone else around him in a relationship?” 

“What?! No-.”

“Or,or maybe you just live a sad, sad life you can't stand it if everyone around you is happy? Is that it? Tell me Eren what it is-” The alcohol was really getting to him. 

“-Fuck! No you dumbass it’s because I wanted you to myself ! Okay ?! That’s why! ... Fuck !"

Eren finally shouted more in a fit of rage than anything. Eren seemed to realize what he had said as his eyes widened. There was a moment before he cussed bitterly and his eyes lowered for a second.

Silence. Dead silence.

"...What the hell are you saying?"

There was silence buzzing between them as Jean stared at Eren. What Eren said should have rung the alarm bells. Jean should have pushed Eren away right then and there, he should have just called him names and just left, but Jean couldn’t help but stare at Eren’s face and how his stupid face could look so stunning. When it was clear that Eren wouldn't answer, he turned away.

Jean just drank his beer as Eren smoked. Jean set down his empty bottle, half drunk, and slipped Marcel's cigarette in between his lips. It was like his body was moving on its own, he didn't know what he was doing. He turned toward Eren till he was too close, leaning heavily on his hand. Eren looked surprised. 

“Jean?”

"Light it. Don't be a buzzkill, I don’t wanna have this conversation sober," Jean said through half lids as he stared at the cigarette that he could see poking through his lip.

His lashes blinked, wet, looking at Eren intensively. Jean's tongue swiped at his dry lips, as Eren's eyes glanced down. Eren’s breathing had become heavier, his gaze lingering on Jean’s lips. Jean wasn't thinking clearly. Eren took one look at the cigarette and snatched it from Jean's lips. Jean was about to shout in annoyance when Eren took his own cigarette that he had been smoking to press between Jean's wet lips. 

"If you're going to smoke, you're going to smoke the good ones. Not the ones Marcel has."

Eren's voice was a rumble in his chest. His voice was broken, as if he could hardly force the fragmented  words out. Jean's body felt like clay. His chin sat in Eren's hand as he could hardly keep his head up. He was getting too drunk. He probably looked a mess, with his messed up hair, and his face and nape dosed in beer and sweat, but he didn’t care. Eren always seemed to see him when he looked the shittiest anyways.

“What’s wrong with Marcel?” Jean’s words were slurred

"Shut up, I don’t wanna talk ‘bout him. Now, inhale ." 

And Jean listened to him. He leaned his face close, inhaled and exhaled. He didn’t cough as much as he should have. He was too busy staring at Eren as the cloud of smoke filled the space between them. You could cut the tension with a knife. Their eye contact was not breaking, Eren was breathing heavily until Jean had to yank his face away due to a coughing fit. Eren jerked his hands away from Jean.

“Jesus christ. How do you deal with this?” Jean coughed breathily. Eren stood up.

“I should get you home. It’s almost 1am.”

“No.” Jean muttered but he was interrupted.

“Jean, please.” Eren said he was still turned away from Jean’s face and Jean was too drunk to notice Eren’s hands clenching.

“But-,”

“Jean, please. I can’t. ” Eren had spun around. His face was red, his breathing heavy, he couldn’t even stand to look at Jean. Eren’s voice was pleading, begging Jean, as if it held a deeper meaning. Jean looked up at Eren, those green blue eyes faltering at the sight of Jean. As if those eyes couldn’t help but take Jean apart. And Eren couldn’t stand it. 

“Am I that horrible to look at?” Jean asked suddenly and Eren seemed to burst.

“That’s just it, I can’t look at anything but you. I’m so fucking jealous of every man, women, anyone who even fucking touches you,” Eren was breathing hard, his voice raw and pained as if the words were painful for him to say. He seemed to collect himself slightly, so he breathed out and managed to whisper in a quiet voice.

“So please , let me take you home.” It was barely a whisper.

“Oh.” Jean’s breath was gone, all he could do was look into Eren’s pleading eyes. Eren was a drowning man, and Jean was the viscous liquid suffocating him. Jean bit the inside of his cheek as he got up, Eren’s eyes avoided Jean. Jean silently walked to Eren’s truck and got in. He let Eren drive him home.

How fast had this snuck up on them? And why hasn't that feeling of disgust crept in yet? Jean knew this was wrong, two guys couldn't love each other.

And yet the quiet was almost soothing to their beating hearts, racing with boyish adoration.

5.

BY the time Jean was dropped off at his dad’s trailer he was nearly fully sober. It was 1:30am, and the stars were out. He smelt of cigarettes and alcohol and he had a terrible hangover. The car ride had been terribly quiet, the only noises were the crunch of the tires. He silently slid off his seatbelt, fully ready to get out when Eren grabbed his arm.  

“Wait, I just,” Eren sighed heavily as he grabbed a cigarette that was resting in his cup holder and a pen to scrawl something on the cylindrical sides of the cigarette. Jean wasn’t sure why he was waiting for Eren, but he did. He handed the cigarette back to him. It had a number. Eren’s number. 

“I don’t really use my phone, but, if you need anything, just call me.” Eren whispered, it was as if he were begging Jean to not leave him. To not abandon him. Jean didn’t say anything, but he took the cigarette and tucked it into his fleshy palm. 

“I’ll see you later, Eren,” Jean said numbly as he slid out of the truck and slammed the door shut. He felt the vibrations of the door as he left.

It was dark in the trailer, but Jean was able to find the bathroom. It was relatively quiet. The trailer stank of beer, and Jean knew it was because his father had been drinking. Jean was bent over in the sink, in this shittiest light, scrubbing his face and neck that was caked in sweat. Jean dried himself off and went to the tiny kitchen to get himself some water before he changed out of his party clothes. He was thoroughly exhausted as he climbed into the squeaky pull out couch bed and laid down.

Jean felt around through his backpack for his lighter which he lit for an extra source of light. He hesitated before he grabbed the cigarette that he was given by Eren. He brought the flame real close to the cigarette, just to see the numbers Eren wrote. 

Why would Eren even care so much for Jean? Jean was scared. Of Eren’s words and how heavy they were, laced with…feeling, and how they very nearly reflected Jean’s own emotions.

Oh. Oh.

Jean’s ears burned in shame as he put out the light and practically threw the cigarette and light back into his bag. There was no way. No way. Did he…like Eren? No. No. He didn’t. He couldn’t. Eren was nothing more than white noise.   It wasn’t his responsibility that Eren pined for him. 

  It wasn’t normal for a man to like another man. It was strange, and Jean refused to let him think about his own feelings, or about the fact that he also enjoyed Eren’s presence. What would his friends say? His mother? Father? They would spit at him, yell at him. They would never allow Jean back into their lives.

It scared Jean. 

He didn’t like Eren. He couldn’t let it happen. He was a man. Jean tried to push away any thoughts of Eren, but he simply couldn’t. 

(TW! SA)

Jean was lost in the whirlwind of his thoughts when he froze. He could feel hands crawling up his arms and chest. It felt like someone was getting on top of him. He tried to wiggle but he simply couldn’t move. He was lethargic and his head was spinning. He couldn’t comprehend what was happening. His first instinct was to call out Eren’s name, but he knew it was foolish because he knew who it actually was.

“Karen…Karen, get off me.” Jean’s words were barely a whisper, but they were words of discomfort. He knew it was her even though it was pitch dark. He knew. Karen didn’t get off, in fact she straddled him harder. Jean felt like screaming, his head was going to explode but he knew if his drunken father found him like this he would be beaten. 

“Karen, please. Get off me,” Jean whispered again, harsher this time but still quiet. He felt hands push his chest down so he couldn’t get up.Those hands were still all over his body as he felt something wet and warm nip his neck. Lips. Jean could almost see the cheap, pink that Karen so often wore staining his nape. His breathing was labored as he struggled to sit up. His hands were grabbed by hers and were forcefully pressed onto her bare chest. He was lightheaded, the booze was still in his system and the soft flesh of her breast felt like lava. He fell limp.

“Shh, Jean, just let me do the work. M’kay? God, you’re so sexy.” Karen’s voice moaned in Jean’s ear. Jean’s head was burning. He could not think of anything else except how violated he felt. He felt filthy and gross as Karen continued to force herself onto him.  She was running her hands up and down his chest and he couldn’t move. She was moaning in his ears and grinding down.

 All he could think about was Eren. How, how at even a time like this could he think of that man. He felt as if this were a punishment for his immoral feelings. Jean wanted to get her off of him, his head was spinning and he was blind. He couldn’t budge as she stuck like glue, her body and her legs all over him. It was like darkness settled down over him. It wasn’t until her hands trailed to his pants did he freak out. 

“Karen!” Jean shoved Karen off of him as he furiously wiped at his nape and neck where she had been kissing. They were tender and sore, most definitely red. Jean was heaving, his chest trembling as he scooted back. He grabbed his own chest, he felt dirty, filthy. He was angry, with himself, with Karen. His body was violated. Karen was suddenly weeping, her ugly sniffles and bemoans on how she thought Jean had wanted this. She was blubbering on how she didn’t mean it, and how she was sorry. 

“Karen, stop, stop crying . Get back to fucking bed. Go to bed and lay beside my filthy pig of a father and stay there. And when we see each other again in the morning we will not speak of this nor acknowledge it. You hear? If not, when we will both get beat. You hear? Don’t you fucking try it again.” He hissed as he stared at where he thought Karen was in the impenetrable darkness. 

Karen just sniffled as she made a feeble noise of agreement. Jean heard shuffling and the sounds of feet retreating back to his father’s room. Jean was absolutely lost, his mind racing for words he didn’t have. His hands clasped over his ears even though the RV was dead silent, the deafening sounds of his blood rushing was enough to  make his shudder. 

He felt like there were eyes watching him in the dark.

He didn’t want to go back to sleep, as if nothing happened. He was scared and felt absolutely useless. He refused to lay there in the dark again, lying pliant for the next monster to ruin him. He felt taken advantage of, absolutely ruined and dirty. He hated it. He fucking hated it.

 He grabbed his phone and dialed a number he stormed outside the RV. He bit his cheek as he called the only person he thought could help him. The phone line rang twice before it picked up.

“Hello? Jean, are you okay?” 

 Jean furrowed his eyebrows at how worried he sounded. Stupid. Jean exhaled, it was a wet and bitter sound. He didn’t realize he was crying till now. God, Jean was stupid. 

“Eren, please, help.” Jean’s voice was nothing but a whisper. The bitter wind and rushing blood lashed at Jean’s face and lashes, to the point Jean wasn’t even sure Eren could hear what Jean had said. But Jean knew that Eren would come to him. 

Jean was sitting in Eren’s car no more than ten minutes later with Jean’s lighter and phone in hand. When Eren first pulled up in a hurry, Eren was disheveled and out of breath. His hair was down and he wore a gray tank top and black pants. He looked as if he had just gotten up. Immediately Jean felt guilty. He was bothering Eren. He should have just bit his tongue and went back to sleep.

When Eren first saw Jean standing there, cheeks wet from those bitter tears, Eren couldn’t even say anything. Jean probably looked pathetic, but Eren hadn’t said anything else, not for a bit. He let Jean calm down as Eren drove. The drive was silent, besides Eren’s vocational puff of smoke and the whir of the car rumbling down the road.

“Hey, I’m gonna pull over on this field, I usually hang out here in my truck if I want a little alone time. Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah…” Jean felt like the biggest idiot. He felt terrible for Eren. He was just dragging Eren into his affairs when Eren already said specifically that he did not want to see Jean anymore due to his…their feelings. When Eren rumbled to a stop, Jean couldn’t stand the silence, he heard Eren get out of the truck to allow Jean some alone time to collect his thoughts.

Jean got out of the truck as he saw Eren had popped open the trunk and was sitting, just staring at the stars. It was a windless, warm summer night as Jean joined Eren, the two boys sitting in Eren’s truck’s trunk, just gazing at the stars. Eren’s cigarette smelled comforting, and familiar.

“I have some Heineken in my backseat…if you want some.” Eren offered, Eren reached back and grabbed a bottle. 

Jean let out a little sad sounding scoff, “No, that’s alright, I drank plenty tonight.”

“Right,” Eren uncapped the bottle with a bottle opener that was attached to his keychain and took a long drink. When he set down the bottle, he turned towards Jean.

“Hey…Jean. Are you…okay?” Eren whispered softly. Jean hated how gentle Eren’s voice was. He didn’t deserve this shit. Eren deserved a nice girl, like Mikasa or something. Someone Eren could fuck and kiss and love without all this damn drama. His head was spinning and his throat was dry of words. 

“...I’m sorry. For calling you out this late. It’s just…” Jean hesitated. He wiped his eyes quickly, he could feel them growing damp. He hoped Eren couldn’t see him, but the moon was remarkably bright, and Eren’s eyes were directly on Jean.

“Jean you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to-”

“No, it’s just,” Jean sighed, “it was my dad’s ‘girlfriend’. She tried to do stuff with me. I was…laying there, thinking, and all of a sudden she was on me. Kissing me, touching me, grinding on me. I-I don’t know why I panicked. I felt gross, and I told her no, and to get off but she didn’t. And you know what was most fucking upsetting? I felt like I deserved it . Maybe I overreacted or whatever, it was just sex she wanted, but I-” 

“Jean, don’t say shit like that. Sex? That’s absurd, she was harassing you Jean. You were still tipsy and she’s your father's girlfriend. She was touching yer body and shit, Jean. She’s crossed a fucking boundary she shouldn’t have done that.” Eren was leaning close to Jean, his face inches away. There was that fire in his eyes. Eren sighed harshly before he laid back, spread out, his eyes glued to the night sky. Jean laid back as well, though he turned to his right side to watch Eren. His hip bone was jutting painfully into the trunk, but he didn’t care.

“Somehow,” Jean murmured after gathering the courage, “I thought it was my punishment…from god or something.” Jean whispered. Eren turned towards him, and those green-blue eyes were on him again. Right where Jean wanted them to be.

Jean’s heart was beating. Oh god. What he was doing was so wrong. A man shouldn't love another man, Jean shouldn't be feeling the way he did for Eren. But, Jean couldn’t help it. Eren turned to look at Jean, who had his cheek pressed to the ground. Jean’s eyes were almost dazed, like he was talking senselessly, allowing words to just spew out. Those words that bleed out from Jean’s heart.

“Punishment? For what?”

Jean knew that speaking those feelings into words would only solidify them, but staring into Eren’s eyes made him feel limitless, untouchable. Eren had a spark of danger to him, Jean couldn’t help but lean into Eren. Eren turned to face Jean.Their eyes did not break contact, and as their legs dangled and the stars winked at them, Eren and Jean looked at one another.

“A punishment for my…feelings for you…” Jean spoke quietly, not waiting for Eren to say anything else, “I know I'm selfish. I shouldn’t be ruining your life like this. You deserve real love. A girlfriend. But-” 

Jean’s voice was nothing more than a whisper, a ghost, a dying entity as he trailed into silence. It felt like his face was going to explode. His neck and palms felt clammy and hot. The heat and the drum of his heart. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Eren, because he was afraid that if he did, then Eren would vanish. There was silence, absolutely nothing exchanged among them.

“ Jean ,” Eren said Jean’s name as if it were sacred, it made Jean freeze.

“You don’t understand what your words do to me  Jean .” Eren’s voice was breathy and raw, riddled with imperfection as it cracked in a low rumble. He stared at Jean in the utmost adoration, his gaze unflinching. He looked as if Jean were perfection. That thick coil in Jean’s belly tightened.

“I think I love you.” Eren whispered and Jean’s heart dropped as if just now he realized what he had done.

  Oh god, what have I done?

“And you know what our words could do to you. To us. We’d become social pariahs, outcasts. It would follow you around like a dark cloud. People will despise you, and one day you’ll realize that loving Jean Kirstein, that loving me, wasn’t worth your life.”

“Oh, no, but it is Jean. You don’t get it. I don’t understand how someone’s words can affect my soul , my very being . From the moment I saw you, I felt this electricity, this excitement that I’ve never felt before. I've tried to rationalize what I’ve felt but it’s unnatural, strange, a deviation of everything I've been told till now but I can't help it, I feel like I'm in love . Jean, I am absolutely and irrevocably infatuated with you.” Eren’s words were fast.

 Jean couldn't take the intensity as Jean sat up quickly, pushing back till his back hit the left side of the pickup truck’s trunk. Eren did the same, eyes following, yearning for Jean. Jean kept turning away from Eren’s face but he saw him everywhere. Eren drew in close, his hands clutching Jean’s shoulder, Jean didn’t squirm. 

“How?” Jean practically cried out, “you barely even know me. How do you even know what love is?”

“The love I feel for you is passionate, furious. I can’t suppress the things I feel any longer. I cannot fathom it nor put it into words. Maybe it is dumb, but I am in love with you. I am a wreck, Jean, but you…! You just look so perfect .”

“You…! I am nothing close to perfect, I was a mistake, Eren, you don’t understand. I’m a worthless bastard of a son, I’m nothing..! ” Jean breathed, he could feel Eren’s warm breath on his cheeks. It smelt of Heineken and of cigarettes.  Eren’s face was close to Jean’s, their forehead knocking into one another. They faced one another, their legs clashing into one another. Eren’s chest pressed against Jean’s as his arms slipped to Jean’s lower back. 

Eren hovered over Jean, his aqua eyes shifting down to Jean’s lips as he pleaded with Jean.

“Can…can I kiss you?” Eren whispered, Eren’s hair tickled Jean’s face. Those green blue eyes were too close, they practically glistened. The succulent starlight shimmered in Eren’s aqua jeweled eyes, and Jean was unable to resist. 

Jean crashed his lips onto Eren, his hands curling up to lace around Eren’s neck. Eren kissed back, his hands wrapping around Jean’s waist, pulling him closer. Eren was all over Jean, though his hands remained only on Jean’s back. They kissed awkwardly, there were no fireworks or tears or tongue like the way they showed it in the movies. They kissed like idiotic boys, desperately hungry for one another. 

Their teeth clashed, and as the lingering taste of Heineken invaded Jean’s mouth. Eren was leaning onto him, his other hand resting on the truck’s rim behind Jean. Eren was leaning in close, desperate for their skin to touch. Eren kissed like a madman, desperately and hungrily. Jean clutched at Eren’s shoulders, they were tense, and pulsing. Eren was consuming Jean whole, his body, his heart. Eren had it all and Jean didn’t have the energy to fight with himself any longer. He kissed Eren back.

“We can go back to my place,” Eren whispered to Jean as he pulled back only an inch, “not to do anything else, I just want to be with you. We can kiss, yeah? Is that okay?” Jean nodded, he nodded and then suddenly Eren was kissing him again. Jean was inexperienced and dumb. He didn’t understand love nor what he wanted with it. He was scared by what this meant, did he like guys? Or was it just Eren. What would people think? Jean tried to stay level headed, but that all melted away as Eren leaned into their kiss. 

When Jean ripped his lips away from Eren, he clutched Eren’s face. They stared at one another, their lips still glistening with spit. Their lips are bruised a cherry red, swollen and quivering.  Their foreheads were an inch away, and their eyelashes just nearly touched. Jean simply wanted to look at Eren.

“What are you doing?” Eren whispered, Jean just clutched Eren.

“I just want to look at you.” Jean whispered, his breath broken. Eren kissed him again and Jean felt like he could do anything but live again.

JEAN stayed with Eren for the next two days. He still came into work, but he told his father that he just didn’t want to sleep on that springy little couch and that he’d rather take the empty bed at Eren’s. His father screamed at Jean when he told him at work. It was humiliating as his father demanded he tell him why Jean was not spending ‘quality time’ with his father. Jean was sure that he’d be hit, but Eren and a colleague named Erwin intervened and deescalated the situation. 

Eren lived alone. His mother had passed a year before and his father was nowhere to be seen. His small house was owned and shared with his half brother Zeke, though the house was gifted to Eren after Zeke had bought his own house with his girlfriend, Peick.  Eren’s house was empty, other than the fact Mikasa and Armin dropped by so often Jean was sure they lived with Eren.

His father demanded Jean come back home, and eventually, Jean did, but he’d always find himself sneaking out where Eren would pick them up and drive them away. The windows would be down, and their radio would be blasting songs. Sometimes they dropped by at gas stations to buy some cigarettes and smoke them in the back, and more often they would pull into some secluded field and kiss under the stars, their breath smelling of Heineken. 

Jean would lean into Eren’s body, he’s smell sweet, distinctly of beer, and warmth. Of cigarettes. Jean was sure he smelt the same. Eren would lean into Jean’s he’d consume his lips and run his hands under Jean’s body. Eren hadn’t fucked him, but Jean could tell that he wanted to. The way Eren became when he kissed Jean was almost devouring. He kissed and held Jean like he was his. But Eren restrained himself every time, no matter how drunk on Jean or Heineken he was. Maybe because he knew that Jean wasn’t ready. 

Time with Eren was like a dream. A sort of tale of their forbidden affair. Eren would sneak kisses during smoke breaks much to Jean’s dismay. They were back to their usual bickering and petty arguing, but they knew that as soon as the night fell and Jean met Eren, they’d be kissing on Eren’s truck once more. Jean sometimes would sketch drawings of Eren, of flowers, of faces and of stars, and Eren would tuck them into his wallet every time. Sometimes Jean would follow the lines of Eren’s arm with a black ink pen, drawing careless doodles on Eren’s skin.

 Jean wondered how things between them changed, how that annoyance for Eren turned into endearment and affection. How fast has the season changed?

“Hey, Jean, I’m going back for a smoke, wanna join?” Eren asked, he slid out two cigarettes as he cocked an eyebrow. Jean suppressed a smile as he brushed him off. Jean’s face flushed as he continued to haul out the trash bins. The hot June sun pounded down on them, the heat almost vibrating off them. Eren was wearing his signature white tanktop and jeans. His forehead was slick with sweat and smeared with oil, probably from Eren’s carelessness. That idiot.

“Yeah yeah, give me a minute,” Jean said, watching as Eren grinned back at him.

 “Geez, you kiss the guy once or twice and then suddenly he acts like your boyfriend.” Jean grumbled halfheartedly. He felt Eren slide behind him as he slid something small into Jean’s pant’s pocket. Jean spun around but Eren was already darting away, that big, stupid smile on his face. Jean checked his pocket and he pulled out a cigarette. It was a plain cigarette, only there was a wobbly little heart drawn on with black ink. That doofus. Jean huffed as he slid the cigarette back into his pants pocket. 

When he eventually snuck to the back he punched Eren’s unsuspecting shoulder. Eren yelped in surprise.

“God’ you’re filthy,” Jean muttered as he  licked the tip of his thumb and swiped it along Eren’s forehead to wipe away the oil smear. Eren just looked at Jean with adoration. Jean grinned as he slouched next to Eren and grabbed Eren’s cigarette and puffed in. He handed it back to Eren as he exhaled, the hazy smoke filling the air beside them.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah yeah whatever.” 

Jean waited till Eren took a drawl before Jean took back the cigarette as he leaned back, his skull hitting the wall. His brain was hazy, that rush of serotonin hit him like a flood. Jean sighed out as he handed the cigarette back to Eren who put it out by stubbing it on the wall. 

 “I almost feel bad. I mean, I practically turned you into an alcoholic and a smoker. Maybe I am a bad influence.” Eren smirked as he kissed Jean’s cheek. Jean smirked back at Eren as he blew smoke into Eren’s face.

“You are, it’s too bad that I happened to like you for that.”

Eren smiled as he reached for the cigarette, tracing Jean’s palm as he captured his lips with his own. They parted almost hastily in fear of being caught. They smoked in the warm summer sun, the heat pounded down on them like no fucking tomarrow. Both of their napes were damp and trickled with sweat. Eren leaned his head on Jean’s shoulder as Jean also leaned on Eren’s head, Jean’s eyelids felt droopy, his eyes fluttering shut as the warm of the sun made him feel incredibly drink. Eren’s arm snaked around Jean’s waist as Jean leaned into Eren’s touch almost naturally. Jean was practically falling asleep when he felt Eren slightly brush his lips on Jean’s.

Jean was drifting asleep when he heard a dreaded voice. 

“What the fuck?” 

Jean ripped his eyes open in horror as he saw his father standing around the corner, his red face screwed in confusion. Jean and Eren stumbled away from one another, the cigarette still in Eren’s mouth. Jean’s father angrily turned the corner, his piggish, black beady eyes lasered onto Jean, and then to Eren. Oh fuck. Fuck. He had seen them together, pressed against one another. He had seen the way their lips brushed against one another. How they had leant against one another as if they were…lovers.

“We–we were just on a smoke break,” Jean stammered quickly as he scrambled to get up onto his feet, but it was no use lying. 

“Do not give me some bullshit excuse, boy! I brought you here to do some hard, honest work! Not to exchange cigarettes like some fag ! Is this what you’re doing behind my back? Kissin’ n’ fuckin’  men? You faggot! You’ve been spending too much damn time with your mother, you’ve grown soft. This, vermin, has turned you into a queer! The fuckin’ devil has taken over you ! ” Jean’s dad grabbed Jean’s arm and yanked him, ripping him away from Eren’s side. Jean’s chest was thumping so loud he could hear it in his ears. He flashed Eren a look, telling him to please keep quiet and to let Jean handle it. Eren’s face was torn in horror and fear.

“Dad!” Jean ripped his arm away, his face burning in anger, “Don’t you fucking talk about mom like that! Like she was the one who deprived me of good ol’ “father bonding”. It was your decision to leave us when I was five!” Jean could hardly get the last words out as his father grabbed Jean’s shirt collar and slammed him against the wall. Jean’s head slammed onto the wall, rattling his brain as he was stunned. The breath had been knocked out of his lungs and he could already feel the bruising form. He was rasping and gasping, trying to grab ahold of his father’s thick fist.

“How dare you,” His father’s face was dangerously red, he looked like a hog, snorting and burning with anger.

“All you do is bitch about this and that. Now why don’t you pay me some respect? I am your father ! Your goddamn father! You have no idea of how much I provide for you and your bitch of a mother! Turns out you both are more similar than I thought. The devil’s gotten a hold of you! I ain’t raising no fag, ” His dad was shouting so loudly that brittle spit was spewing from his face. Jean clenched his hands around his fathers as they tightened.

“I’ll pay you respect once you’re fucking dead!” Jean spat. He was struggling against his father’s iron fist. The point of his toes dragged on the ground, just barely grazing the floor as his father’s grasp clenched around him, suspended over the ground. His father’s ugly, piggish face twisted in rage. The type of anger that made Jean’s heart drop to his stomach. 

It happened in a second, his father’s heavy, meaty fist clobbered Jean with a heavy right hook. It punched him square in the cheek and just clipped his nose. His father dropped Jean, who clutched his supple cheek recoiling in pain. He was scrabbling away from his father who punched him again, he was screaming obscenities, slurs flying from his mouth as he rained down his fists. Jean was trying to block the punches, but his forearms were weak. He could hear Eren shouting, but Jean couldn’t make out what he was saying. Jean’s blood poured from his nose, he could feel the purple bruises forming.

“And you ! How dare you trick me when I have shown you nothing but kindness! Do you take me for a fool ?!”

 His father turned towards Eren as he spat at him as he punched him square in the face. Jean was shouting in horror, screaming at the top of his lungs begging his father to leave Eren be. He was shouting and painfully screaming and trying to get his father away when Eren tackled Jean’s dad down. Jean’s father was a thick man, but he was slow, and blunt. He knocked over as fast and heavy as a sack of potatoes. Jean struggled to stand, finally free from his father’s vicious grasp as he noticed that the other men at the workshop had gathered at the ruckus. 

Their faces were a mixture of disgust and weary as they had heard everything.

Some of them held back his father and Eren who had slammed his fists into his father’s face, his knuckles ringed with blood. Eren also had gotten clipped by punches,  red, oozing wounds in the corner of his mouth. Jean shuddered as Eren grabbed his arm, yanking him up. Jean stumbled over himself. His mind was blank. He didn’t want to look anyone in the eye. The shame and the guilt he felt pooled in his belly, as if he had somehow let them down by not being ‘normal’. Jean felt sick to his stomach, too cowardly to even face his own mistake.

“Hurry, Jean, get up. We need to get your cuts fixed– over here.” Eren shouted as he half dragged Jean. Jean was in a blur, as his knees bumped one another. He eventually found himself in the passenger’s seat of Eren’s truck with Eren driving. 

Eren had one hand on the wheel and one hand he fumbled for Jean’s face to examine his wounds. The close proximity, the way their limbs and words tangled into one another, it was all too much. A painful reminder that what they ‘felt’ was unnatural. There was no hiding when it came with Eren.

“Jean, Jean, Jean are you okay?” Eren whispered, he was clutching Jean’s face in his hands as Jean couldn't even lift his hand to push Eren away. Eren desperately felt his face and wiped away the blood fervently whispering to Jean almost desperately. Eren was driving recklessly, his eyes darting from the road to Jean. Jean was struggling against Eren who kept wanting to hold Jean’s face to look at the wounds. Jean wouldn’t cry, but he was furiously upset. With his father. With himself. 

“... Eren , let go of me.” Jean felt like he was splitting into two.

“Jean, I'm so sorry, you’re hurt. Oh god, yer bleeding everywhere.” Eren wasn’t listening. He kept mumbling to himself, those blue green eyes like speckled jewels. Jean felt like he was bursting, falling apart at the seams as Eren’s hands cradled Jean’s jaw. A life Jean so meticulously curated was falling apart. He could almost see the pale ashen face of the Virgin Mary, burden creasing her brow. It was too much, just too much.

“ Eren! Let go!” Jean burst, his chest tight, his breath gone. He ripped his face away from Eren and scooted back as far as he could, away from Eren and his body. Eren looked stunned at first, and then hurt. He lowered his hand and his eyes slowly found the road. Jean panged with guilt.

“ This..This is my fault,” Jean said numbly, “I–we never should have done this,” Jean whispered. His face was on fire as he stared at Eren, ruined by blood and wounds. Eren looked almost dumbfounded as he looked as if Jean had struck him.

“What do you mean?” 

“Us. This affair. I might be able to run away from home but you. You can’t. And-and who knows what could happen to you Eren, you know people have died from being… gay.” Jean whispered.

Eren didn’t say anything. He couldn’t, because he knew it was true. And perhaps the silence was the most sickening part of everything. They couldn’t keep running from the truth, or hiding. The truth had caught up to them, and that was it. The truth. They couldn’t be together, not if it meant an eternity of pain.  

They tended each other’s cuts at Eren’s house. Jean wasn’t wearing his shirt, his blood drenched shirt balled up and tossed. Jean coils see the purple and green bruises beginning to sprout like flowers on Jean’s skin, all up Jean’s arms, torso and face. Eren pushed a cigarette into Jean’s lips as Jean sat there, half hearted. He was slouching as Eren suppressed rubbing alcohol onto Jean’s wounds and pasted on plaster and gauze. 

Eren’s room was warm, it was like the air was dense with warmth and comfort. Several photographs and old posters curling at the corners pasted on the wall. The fan in the corner whirled softly blowing a daft wind every other moment, cooling the burning bruises on Jean’s face.

Eren’s room was cluttered, laundry pushed onto the dressers, cigarette boxes thrown half-heartedly on tables and bed sheets rumpled, unmade, and laid in. A guitar leaning in the corner of the room, the auburn body faded of color from being strummed over the years. The window opened and its white curtains blew in the breeze as the smoke warmed the air.

Disks and cassette tapes of old movies lined the shelves, threatening to topple over one another. Boots kicked off in the corner. Jean’s tiny little sketches poised on his desk near an ashtray as if they were some kind of trophy. 

Jean was leaning on the headboard, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. His joints felt like jelly, his skin numb. He could feel the warmth, but his body still felt cold. It was as if he was detached from his flesh. He wore no shirt, just shorts Eren insisted he change into after he washed his blood drenched jeans. 

Jean slumped into Eren’s pillows, burying the side of his face into the plush, burying his ears in his palms tightly before he let his hands slide from his ears and fall limply onto the bed. Why, why why why? What had he’d done? Jean curled up, pressing his lanky body further into the sheets as if he could be swallowed up by the bed. Why had he dragged Eren into this mess? 

Eren. Guilt flooded Jean’s belly.

The bed dipped behind Jean and he could feel the warmth of Eren radiate behind him, arms stretched around Jean’s shoulders. Jean’s breath shuddered as Eren’s warmth blooded into Jean’s body, the cold flushed out. Eren rested his face on Jean's chin, he could feel the latter’s hair tickle his nape, and his nose bumped Jean’s neck.

Jean turned around to look at Eren. Eren’s face had small gashes that burned red from his father’s fists. The bridge of his nose. The corner of his Eren’s mouth. But those green-blue eyes burned a hole in Jean. They were so vivid, crisp pools of sea, glass, and ice. Shards of emerald green embedded itself in Eren’s iris, and rings of somber cerulean and ash and opal burned with sadness. 

“Eren, your face,” Jean whispered, his thumb grazing Eren’s cuts as Eren used his other hand to press Jean’s palm to his mouth, kissing the flesh of Jean’s palm. Jean slowly took his hand away, his slender things curling over Eren’s jaw, cradling his face. As if they were lovers. As if they weren’t an abomination.

As if their love and as if their feelings would never be normal. It was wrong, all wrong. And yet Jean lay in Eren's arms,  and they slept.

Jean did not dream, but he slept for hours. Till the moon came out, her pale face white in the void of feathered blackness and royal blue ink. The Sun was nowhere in sight in the inky darkness. 

The blanket twisted around his body like a rope as he contorted and twisted.  Hours slid by, almost carelessly. It was like time froze for Jean. He vaguely felt when Eren got up to answer the door, vaguely heard Zeke’s voice and the low murmurs of their talking. Jean was awake by the time Eren slid the lock into place. 

Eren’s room was almost completely dark, but Jean could make out the slight shadow of Eren’s figure standing by his window. Jean was wondering what the latter was gonna do when suddenly he swung his right foot, then his left, then his body out the window and climbed onto the roof.  

“Jean, are you awake?” Eren’s voice came from outside. There was the sweet smell of nighttime and smoke mingling. 

“Yeah.”

“Come out here. The stars are out.” 

Jean slowly stretched his spine as he sat up, every vertebrae in his spine groaning and cracking as he unfurled his spine. He took a tentative step out from the covers and stood up, wobbling like a foul. He was still only wearing shorts, but the evening air was not chilly. He climbed out onto Eren’s roof and the stars winked down at Jean.

Eren was sitting on the roof, a cigarette barely lit, the wafting smoke coiled around Eren like a snake. Jean sat down next to Eren, an inch between the flesh of their arms. Something prevented them from touching one another.

“Here.” Eren handed Jean a bottle. It was cool to the touch, like glass. It felt good against his almost feverish state. It was a bit too dark for Jean to see what it read. He pressed it against his cheek for a second before Jean brought the lip of the bottle to his own. It poured down its dry throat and it burned. Heineken.

“Jesus christ, I just woke up and the first thing you give me is beer?” Jean coughed dryly, Eren laughed, though it sounded sad. The two boys sat on the roof looking out into. Eren was leaning on Jean, who leaned back and they gazed into the sky. The stars looked like grains of sand, grains of moonstone and of stardust.

"Was that Zeke earlier?" Jean asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I asked him to drop by to grab your things. Better if you stay with me for the rest of your trip. How much longer do you have again?" Eren spoke in a low gravelly tone. It made Jean's heart drop into his belly, the thought of leaving. Jean didn't want to leave Eren but after this afternoon...pherhaps it was best of Jean did. Pherhaps it would be better if Eren had forgotten about Jean all together.

"Five days." Silence. Five days to wrap up what ever this was and then, and only then they'd get to wonder if all of this was worth it. Five days. 

“...Thank you, Eren. For everything. For always taking care of me,” Jean murmured,breaking the silence once again. Jean by no means was a quiet, but his voice was meek. He held the bottle loosely, the neck hanging between his fingers catching his knuckles. Jean took another shallow drink. Eren lit a cigarette and Jean could swear he smelt the sweet scent of melon popsicles. The atmosphere seemed to be turning, something was off.

“You know, Jean, I think I love you.” Eren wasn’t looking at Jean. He was looking at the moon. Jean watched Eren's neutral face from the side, his brown hair tossed around his face gently with the slight breeze.

Eren's tan skin, his green-blue eyes, his scar, the tint of his maroon lips, his features all the opposite of Jean's; and yet they could never be his. Jean's heart wrentched, the air knocked from his lungs. It seemed as if there was a rope around his neck.

No.

“Please, Eren.” Jean's voice was pleading, at first Jean thought he misheard him, but when and only when Eren turned to look at him, Jean knew in his soul that Eren was not lying. And it frightened him. It was like Eren was examining Jean's face before he could forget. Jean who was so pale. Jean who had pink lips and a sunburnt face. Jean who had an auburn mullet and caramel eyes. Jean who was so different from Eren.

"I love you." Eren turned to look at the anguish in Jean's face, his eyes brimmed with emotion. Jean simply could not comprehend how someone could love a boy like himself. 

"Eren, don't," Jean whispered, barely a breath. A croak of fear. A warning.

“I love you Jean. And I’ll love you so long as there are stars in the sky, and so long as the moon and sun do their rounds.” Forever was what Eren wanted to say, they both knew it. Eren had sworn to love him forever.

“You're lying. Forever doesn’t exist, Eren. There is no such thing. And-and even if there was a forever you couldn't possibly love me forever,” Jean stammered, "People come and go in your life and that's all I'll be: a moment, a minuscule moment in your life and I'll be forgotten after I leave and maybe its for the best."

“No, no you don't get it Jean. Jean with you I feel as if I could do anything. Being with you, kissing you, feeling your skin, it makes me feel this rush. I'll never be able to explain it.” Eren was breathless. Jean's name in Eren's tongue sounded like a praise. As if Jean were a god who had come to deliver Eren from his suffering. Jean's chest tightened.

"That isn't love, Eren, that's foolishness. You love me for reasons I will never begin to comprehend, but I won't have you ruin your life any more because of me. What we feel for each other is not worth your life can't you see?? Eren so please please I beg of you- be selfish and please, choose to save yourself." The words rushed from Jean's mouth, like penny's emptying themselves from a pocket with a hole in it. Jean was desperate to plead for Eren's mercy. Please. 

"We've already had this damn conversation, Jean," Eren whispered, "I am being selfish. I chose you because I need you and now you’re running?" Eren wasn't angry, even though his face twisted in annoyance, he wasn't upset. He was desperate. Fearful. Jean's thoughts were racing. Millions of words he wanted to say but couldn't. 

Formulating excuses to evade Eren's feelings was the furthest thing he wanted to do. He wanted to curl his arms around Eren's neck and kiss him. He wanted to curl into bed with Eren by his side, at peace, unafraid of the outside world, drunk off of Heineken and the scent of one another. But that could never happen, not when their love was condemned.

"Yes, Eren, yes, I’m running. I’m running because I am scared, Eren, don’t you understand?? No one will accept it. We aren't normal. They'd kill us, Eren. Like animals, they will pick us apart till there is nothing left of our carnal sin."

"My feelings for you will ruin me if I cannot be with you, Jean."

"You know what they’d call your love? They’d say it’s a sin. God would hate us, Eren." It was like the excuses were flowing from Jean unwillingly, desperate and scrabbling for anything, anything at all to deter Eren. Eren who loved fast, and hard. Eren whose love could be put out as quickly as it had ignited. Eren who never had his own interest in mind. 

"Then so be it. I would go to hell bragging to the devils that I had loved someone greater than whatever god had sent them there. I'd sin over and over again if it meant I could be with you."

"You just don't understand." Jean got up, the tension buzzed in the air they swamped themselves in. The stars and moon suddenly seeming like billions of eyes peering down at them. Jean left the Heineken bottle on the roof.

"So that's it? You're just giving up? After all we've been through, after all we've felt for each other, after all I've done, after all you've done you're just going to leave?" Eren was pleading, a desperate, pitiful sound Jean couldn't bear to hear. The betrayal. The hurt. 

"Yes! How many times should I say it? I can't love you back not because my feelings won't allow me to but because the world won't!" Jean bursted, his adrenaline was pumping, his face burning and he could feel the sting of tears boiling hot in his eyes. They threatened to fall as he stared into Eren's face. 

"You may not care for your own life but I do! Loving me, being with me, kissing me, what ever the fuck we've been doing for the past three weeks is not worth your damn life! In five days I'm going back home and you'll stay here and life will move on and we will live as we always have. Apart.  We won't call, or text, or-or write because whatever this is, it's all that we will ever be! Don't base your entire life over a mistake. Over me."

Jean was crying, tears streaking down his face. How embarrassing. Jean felt like he was drowning in himself. He was such a hypocrite, telling Eren to let go of him when Jean himself loved Eren to the point his chest hurt. He could hardly see Eren as he turned back and clobbered inside. He blindly grabbed his backpack and shoes. He fumbled through the darkness for a spare shirt and flung the door open. He ran down the stairs, scrubbing at his face. He couldn't even hear Eren calling after him. 

He was heading down the porch, still furiously wiping away tears when Eren caught up to him. He grabbed Jean's arm and the force made Jean jerk around. Eren's face was flushed red, his eyes glossy.

"Please, please Jean don't. If you leave tonight and something happens to you then I don't know what I'd do with myself. Just stay. Five days. For five days let me savor the last parts of you before you leave," Eren whispered. Jean was struggling in Eren's grasp, wanting to deny him, but he just couldn't. He wrapped his arms around Eren's neck, hugging him tightly and burying his face in Eren's shoulder. How weak. He had spouted all that nonsense earlier and yet here he was crying and hugging him again.

Eren hugged him just as hard back, his frame was almost trembling. They stood there, clutching one another in the dead of night. The silence, overrun by their shivering hearts. The moon's unjudging eye being the only one to see them.This would be the only way for them to love one another: in the dark.

Oh, how mad love could be.

6.

They slept on opposite sides and woke up in each other's arms. Jean knew that much, even if Eren had woken up early to slowly untangle themselves from each other. Jean pretended to sleep, as if his heart wasn't thumping to its own beat.Jean felt the bed dip as Eren got out of the bed. The sun was seeping through the window. Other than a hollow 'good mornings' once Jean had gone downstairs, there was no talking. Eren was drinking a cup of coffee sitting at the dinner table as Jean slowly chewed a slice of toast. The silence was strong until the doorbell rang. Eren went to go answer it.

Zeke had stopped by to speak to Eren and Jean could hear from where he was standing in the kitchen what it was about. Jean's father had called the police, saying how some 'fag' had taken and assaulted his son. Jean's heart fully dropped. No, not Eren. Eren who touched Jean as if he were glass, as if he were unworthy of Jean's flesh. Eren, who was now being accused of assaulting him and turning him gay. No, no, no.

Everything was wrong. Again Eren was being punished because of Jean. And when Eren left with Zeke in the latter's truck, he felt true fear. He didn't know where he was heading and it scared Jean. He paced the house until that fear turned into anger. Jean had dialed his father's telephone but there was no answer and before he knew it he had taken Eren's truck and driven himself to his father's place. He knew how unsafe this was, but he would not allow it. He took out the key, opened the door to get out before he slammed the door shut. It shook the car.

The anger Jean felt was like nothing before. It wasn't the anger he felt when Eren had annoyed him, or when he was the subject of harmless but dumb pranks from his other friends back home. No, this was anger that dueled Jean in a way he was sure he would kill over. He wanted his father dead. 

He slammed his fists on the door, "Open up! Open this damn door!"

When the door swung open he saw his father and Jean could see the anger bloom into his father's face but Jean didn't care. 

"Jean-," Jean cut him off as he shoved him abruptly, his father stumbled back and heavily crashed into a coffee table. Jean's shoe hooked onto a chair and brought it raining down on his father's head. There was a loud crunch of the chair breaking. Jean was well aware of how manic he looked, kicking and shoving things around but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"How dare you, how dare you lie to the police! My entire life you've been nothing but a deadbeat, a weight on my back! Why can't you just drink yourself to death and stay out of it," Jean shouted, stepping in he saw a glass bear bottle nearby and he snatched it and brought it down on the table.

The bottle broke into sharp shards, he wasn't sure what he wanted to do with the bottle but he held it just in case. He advanced on his father like an animal, every step a thundering thud. He always had been so afraid of his father and yet now his father lay before him like a wounded deer. His father's nose had started bleeding from hitting it on a piece of furniture.

"I was protecting you, you ungrateful priss!" His father bellowed, scrabbling to get up but Jean kicked the flimsy coffee table over his father. More shrieks from both his father and Karen but it didn't stop his father's ramblings.

"I talked to the priest, and I know the devils got into you. Satan has led you away. It was the Eren boy I tell you! He corrupted you! Bent you over and fucked you and now you think it's normal! That fag! He'll get punished when he stands in front of God! You're lucky, you should be thanking me, I have you from hell! From damnation! You ungrateful piece of shit! I pray to God everyday wondering how much I must of fucked up to have a son like you!"

"You're god is a joke if he allows people like you to follow him! You're a drunk, a abusive fucker who hits his kid and you say that I've been lead by satan? Do you know why I hate being here? Because of you, I can't stand you. The only good thing that has come out of this is Eren. And you want to talk of fucking? Ask Karen. Do you know what she did behind your back? Your own girlfriend wanted to fuck me because she was never satisfied with you, did you know? The same women you fuck, take to church and share a bed straddled me in the dead of night and wanted me to fuck her. Right under your own roof, under your damn nose."

"What-"

"You've ruined my life already, I don't care what you do to me, but leave Eren out of it." Jean threw the glass bottle onto the wall right next to his fathers head and let the shards pelt on his father. Jean stormed off, only staying long enough to see glimpses of Karen's face turn into fear and his father struggling for words. Blood was pouring from his nose, and it was almost funny how weak he looked. He couldn't even feel sorry for Karen either, even though he knew she'd be the target of his anger when his father sobered up.

Jean got home an hour later and Eren was still not home. The hours slipped by like seconds. Jean stayed by the door, sitting on the floor. Jean would wait the entire day. Jean fell asleep once or twice but he didn't budge. Not even when his throat burned for water, or when the Sun sloped into the shape of the moon. 

Eren walked in at two am. Jean could see that he was covered in blood, bruises and cuts. He stopped when he saw Jean and he shut the door. Slowly, the click of a lock sliding into place. He waited a second before he sat down next to Jean, sliding down the wall nearly defeated. There was a second of silence. Their ragged breathing, and the weight of Jean’s eyes.

"Some guys. From the shop. They jumped me." 

"Eren..."

Silence.

"But there is good news, the police didn't believe your dad because he has a history of beating his girlfriends and being the town drunk. Let me go after some denying. And bribing." Jean hated when Eren did that, talking with no weight behind his words. As if it were no big deal. As if nothing had happened that was even worth mentioning. 

"Does it hurt?" Jean whispered. He felt absolutely numb. 

"Hm?"

"Your wounds Eren, do they hurt."

"I like it when you say my name."

"Answer my question."

Silence.

"I didn't want you to see me like this."

"Eren. Then I'll ask you, was it worth it?" Jean whispered, his voice cracking. The energy and anger vanished from his bones, he suddenly felt so weary and cold. He looked at the ground but he could see Eren's gaze slowly slip away from Jean. Eren didn't answer.

But Jean knew that the silence itself was all he needed to know.

7.

They slept in separate beds that night. But they had been close enough for Jean to hear the clink of glass bottles and the metallic fsht of his lighter’s flame.

8.

Jean went to the diner to say goodbye to Reiner, Bertholdt and Annie. He and Eren sat next to one another at the diner. Jean ordered the same chocolate milkshake and burger. There was lovely chatter. Music wading through the air. Smells of food.  Waitresses floating through the restaurant, over the checkered tiles. Marcel even dropped by to chat with Jean. They shared cigarettes and polite chatter.

Marcel said that he’d miss Jean, and so did Reiner. Eren hadn’t said one word. The smoke seeped through his lips and lingered through the air.

Jean had spoken less than nine times to Eren for the entire day, his last day. One, was a relatively empty ‘good mornings’ exchanged between the two. Two, Jean had prompted where his lighter was to which Eren had half heartedly tossed him his light. Third, Eren had passed Jean a bottle of water from the mini fridge. Fourth, Eren had asked if Jean wanted anything for lunch to which he said no. Fifth, Eren had asked Jean if he’d seen his boots. Sixth, they exchanged cigarettes. Seventh, Jean helped Eren carry boxes of Zeke’s stuff to his truck. Eighth, Eren asked if there was anything good on the radio. And ninth, Jean had asked if we could drive him to the laundromat.  

Jean unloaded his laundry into one of the many washing machines lined up at the laundromat. He fed the machine a crumpled dollar bill and two quarters he found in the bottom of his backpack and watched as color whirled around in a deep rumble. The air conditioning had to be broken or something because Jean’s nape was damp with sweat.

Eren sat in his truck, and Jean sat atop the laundry machine. His legs shook with the tremors of the machine. Thirty minutes to spare. Jean wondered if Eren would leave him there. He propped his leg up, wrapping his arm around his leg as the other dangled off the machine. The back of his shoes bumped the cold surface of the machine and ever so often someone would glance over, annoyed. 

Jean had his walkman headphones, the wire coiling around. Even though the music was blasting he couldn’t ignore the fact that Eren had left his truck to walk up to Jean. He walked right up to Jean, hand propped right next to his leg on the washing machine. Jean slid off his headphones, looking down at Eren expectantly. 

“There’s a seven eleven next block over, wanna come with? It’s too hot in here.” Eren talked as if it were nothing. Jean looked at him for a second. His face, his body language betrayed nothing. 

“Sure.”

 Jean half jumped, half slid down from the laundry machine and followed Eren out of the laundromat. Eren seemed indifferent, his strides uncaring. There was no furrow of his brow or crease in his expression. Maybe it was only Jean who was bothered by the entire thing, maybe Jean cared too much. A quiet bell rang as the way walked in as Jean was immediately hit with a gust of cool air conditioning. The cashier muttered a small welcome but they paid no mind. 

Eren went immediately to the back to grab a bottle of beer. Jean was going to follow, but stopped when he saw a freezer. He slid open the frosty glass and glanced at all the ice cream. He grabbed a melon popsicle and headed to the cashier where Eren already stood, two bottles of beer on the counter. Jean slid the popsicle on the counter.

“Is this it?”

“ Parliaments also.”

The cashier grabbed a box of cigarettes, ringing them up. He hadn’t bothered to ask for an ID, clearly not caring enough. Eren paid with cash dug up from his pants pockets and both left the store. They headed towards the parking lot before they sat at the curb, leaning back on a wall in the back of the store where it faced a closed parking lot. There was no one. Eren drinking his Heineken and Jean with his melon popsicle. A pale, tea green color of the popsicle tasting milky and like sweet, fruit cream. The icy popsicle was becoming more malleable in the heat, tasting almost too sweet. 

They sat in the heat, both sweaty and donned tank tops and shorts. Boots and converse scuffing the ground. They leaned back on their palms, the concrete biting into the soft flesh of their hands. They were inches away from one another, from their fingers brushing, from their shoulder’s touching. And yet Jean felt as if Eren was so far away.

Jean became acutely aware that Eren was staring at Jean. His eyes trained on Jean. He wasn’t sure what happened next, or why. Maybe it was because Eren was slightly drunk, maybe because Jean’s rosy lips were parted with a film of creamy sweet glossing his tongue, or maybe it was because they hadn’t touched one another since four days ago.  Eren leaned in, quickly as if he were scared Jean would move, and kissed the latter. Jean faltered.

He kissed Jean, gentle at first, his lips tasting the sweet taste of melon ice cream, and then in a flash it changed. Eren kissed him as if he were a drowning man, leaning into Jean’s body and sliding his hands into the wing of Jean’s hip, under his shirt. Jean was stunned. It seemed to happen in a flash. And then Eren pulled away.

Silence.

“Eren?”

“...I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

Silence.

“Are you just not going to talk?”

 “Thought it was what you wanted,” Eren whispered. His lips pressed into a thin line and he had an expression that looked similarly to a wounded animal. Jean felt a pang of guilt and almost resentment. 

“You know what I feel for you, but you have to understand the circumstances we are in. I might be able to escape this tomorrow but you can't. You felt the effects first hand when you got jumped. Do you think they’ll just stop at that?” 

“I just thought that us, together, would be enough.”  Eren said almost emptily, he was hunched over, arms resting on his knees. He looked like a petulant child. His eyes were sad, unfocused. 

“Eren,” Jean whispered, “please.” 

“Look, I know! I know I being was dumb! But I loved you Jean! But it feels like you’re throwing everything away,” Eren shouted, for a moment Jean’s panic spiked, fearful that someone would hear him. And then the guilt came, for caring more of his risk rather than Eren’s words. His feelings. God, Jean was going to hell. 

“Throwing everything away? You don’t even understand what I feel Eren! This is why I doubt whenever you spew how much you love me because you can’t even begin to comprehend the complexity of this situation, you just don't understand me. Do you think I want this? I want to fight for us, to fight for you.” 

“Do you? Because what I see is that you're just running. There is no ‘us’ in this anymore, what you really mean is that you want to fight for yourself. All you do is run away Jean, and you’re doing it again. Fine then. I see who your priorities are.” Eren spat.

“Don’t you dare judge me for it. Don’t you dare act like you have the high ground when you yourself admitted that I was not worth your life over. Or did you forget already?”

“...I loved you and I wanted to be with you. But…I'm not ready to lose everything...here. Reiner, my friends, Zeke,” Eren trailed off. The anger drained from Eren’s face in replacement was stricken hurt, and Jean was sure he looked the same. 

“You need to realize it yourself. I have. I’ve made peace with the fact that I ultimately don’t deserve your affection. I understand that we could never be anything more than a fond memory, and so do you. I love you too much to let you do this to yourself.”

It hurt Jean’s words were harsh and direct and it had to be this way. For the both of them pushing back his feelings for Eren in exchange for whatever normal life he could salvage. It hurt Jean, his heart ached and throbbed in pain.

He was well aware of how selfish he was being, after all Eren had done for him, but this was the only way things would be right. Eren may resent him but Jean figured that would be better than Eren throwing away his life.

Jean stood and he threw away his finished popsicle and threw his trash away. He had shoved his way into the laundromat to grab his clothing. Jean had unloaded his clean laundry and shoved it into his backpack and swung his backpack over his back. He ended up walking.

He ended up wandering around shops and wandering through fields of wheat and tall grass. The heat beat down on his face, sweat beading down his neck as the grass scratched his legs. But it distracted Jean from his thoughts, he ran his hands along the grass, the bark of trees and loops of linked fences. He walked and walked till the sun ran into night, the ink of the sky blotting into deep shades of purple and royal blue and eventually a dark black. And by the time his aching feet reached Eren’s porch the stars were out. 

Eren was sitting outside on the stairs of the porch. Jean almost froze, like a child caught sneaking around. Eren just looked at him, eyes sloped. Worried. Eren was smoking, and when Jean sat next to him, Eren handed him his cigarette. Jean pressed it to his lips and took a short drawl, he puffed out smoke in gray clouds.

“Last day?” Eren said suddenly, Jean’s heartbeat fastened to the point he could hear it in his ears as he glanced over at Eren. His eyes were opened, but they were not looking at Jean.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll miss you, Jean. Even if you don't.”

And that was it. That’s all Eren said. The last thing Eren said to him. Even when the next day came Eren didn’t say anything else. Eren simply drove Jean to the airport, not even saying a ‘goodbye’ as Jean shut Eren’s truck door. The white truck didn’t pull away immediately, it stayed in place and Jean swore he could see Eren look at him through the glass, but Jean had turned. 

Even as the airplane took off, Eren was all Jean could think about. What they had, what they could have had couldn’t leave Jean’s mind.

Jean’s metal lighter felt like a stone in Jean’s breast pocket.

10.

“Jeann! My guy, how are you?!” Connie threw his arms around Jean’s neck, putting in headlock as his other hand was used to slap Jean’s back. Jean lurched over, jet-lagged and tired but a smile crept on his face as he saw Sasha and Marco run up to him. He had just gotten off the plane, not expecting his friends to be the one to pick him up from the airport. He shoved Connie off.

“Get off you dumbass!” Jean muttered, he tried to be cross, but really he was ecstatic to see his old friends. Jean pushed the thought of Eren to the back of his mind.

“You ditched us for a month, you!” Sasha berated, her face was glowing and beaming.

“Missed out on Marco’s parent’s biggg meltdown! Found out he was dating that girl from detention! He’s staying with his uncle now.” Marco grabbed Jean’s dropped backpack and swung it over his shoulder, a grin on his face. Connie had an arm swung around Jean’s neck, his pale, nearly white hair buzzed close to his scalp and it tickled Jean’s cheek.

“Good,” Jean snorted, “no offense Marco, but yer parents got a stick up their ass.” They began walking and Jean could see Marco’s car in the parking lot. A dark blue Thunderbird. Marco swung his backpack in the backseat and Jean claimed shotgun much to Connie and Sasha’s protest.

“None, taken, I’m enjoying the freedom honestly... uh, Jean, is that a bruise on your face?” 

Jean cringed mid seat belt buckle, Marco had gotten into the driver’s seat and seen a slightly purple bruise creeping up on his left cheekbone. Three curious and slightly worried faces swung towards him, their eyes intently focusing on Jean’s face suddenly hyper aware of Jean’s half healed bruises and cuts. 

“Yeah,” Jean muttered, he had hoped his cuts and bruises would heal before he went home, “from Dad, he was drunk as usual, always spewing his bullshit.”

"Your dad's a bitch." Connie muttered while Jean snickered.

“I’m sorry Jean,” Marco said tentatively as he reversed the car, the gravel crunched under their tires. It was silent.

“Forget him, I don't have to see him till next year.”

Jean grabbed a cassette tape and clunkily shoved it into the car’s player. Loud rock music blasted the speakers causing Sasha to yelp and Jean just grinned in the rear-view mirror and turned it up. The bass shook the car and vibrated up their spines and rattled their brains. Jean propped his feet up as he could feel Connie drumming his hands to the beat of the music as Sasha sang along widely. Marco was smiling, his fingers tapping the wheel. Jean felt happy, among his friends. And safe.

“God I missed this! You don’t understand how much country music I’ve been listening to for the past month!” Jean shouted over the music and laughter erupted. 

“I don’t know how you survived, thought you’d get eaten alive!” Connie guaduffed, in Jean’s ear. Jean twisted around in his seat to try and strangle him. Connie was ducking and twisting away from Jean’s grasp as Sasha shrieked and irked them on.

“Jesus Christ, guys, stop, We’re gonna crash or something!” Marco yelped, Jean and Connie stopped trying to fight each other. Sasha was still howling with laughter as Connie declared himself victorious. 

“God, I need a nap right now.” Jean groaned, slumping back. The air was whipping his head back, and the music numbed his mind. His eyes were heavy.

“Nope! No can do,” Sasha’s hand roughly tousled Jean’s hair, “We’re getting shit ton of food and as soon as it's night, we’re heading straight for the skatepark! You missed out on too much, we’re staying up tonight!”

Jean pretended to groan but he hid his smile in his palm.

“Oh yeah, horseface, how was that hillbilly, Eren?! Did he steal all the chicks?” Connie had asked coyly and out of good fun, his friends laughed, but they hadn’t seen the way Jean’s expression change. Jean froze, suddenly the panic flooded back to him, afraid that his friends knew, but he smothered the feelings of fear and shame and tried to answer as normally as he possibly could.

“Whatever fuck him,” Jean muttered. He noticed an iMessage from his mom asking if he had landed and quickly responded to it before he tucked away his phone.

“Ooh salty much?” Sasha teased, Marco didn’t say much in response, but he glanced, amused, at Jean who was swearing and shouting vague threats. Connie and Sasha just poked at Jean more.

They spent the next five hours running around the city. They parked Marco’s Thunderbird in exchange for their skateboards, roaming through the city with about thirteen dollars and sixty three cents between the four of them. They snuck into a movie theater to watch the newly released X-Men film, ducking furiously whenever a worker walked down the rows.

Once the movie finished, they noisily grabbed snacks and drinks, from a nearby convenience store, slipping candy bars into the sleeves of their sweaters and shirts. They really only paid for half of the snacks they got.

Jean ate a melon popsicle as he rode on his skateboard. He lazily used his foot to push himself, he could hear clinks of glass bottles of Coke and his friends laughing behind him on their own skateboards.

They roamed around old graffiti sites, sliding down ramps and construction sites, scampering like mice when officers showed lights in their face. They laughed and ran, much quicker than the lumbering officers and their thick uniform.

They eventually found their way to the skatepark, where they spent well over an hour skating over ramps and half pipes, paraffin wax glossing their skateboards as they fumbled and sprawled onto the ground. They skated till it was twilight and till they could only see three feet in front of them.

Laughter and the shutter of Marco’s camera sounded in Jean’s ear as Jean barely made it up the lip of a bowl he heaved himself up onto the smooth concrete, crawling and falling onto the floor. He flung his backpack away from him so he’d be able to get up easier. He hadn’t skated in over a month and his legs felt like jello, aching as Jean slumped down at the wall, sliding down to sit on the ground, skateboard in hand. Marco had already given up ten minutes ago to catch his breath. Eventually Connie and Sasha sat down with them, all of them breathing heavily and panting. 

They passed around a lukewarm bottle of Coke because they had forgotten to grab water. They drank thirstily as Coke streamed down their chin and sticky fingers.

“Eww,” Sasha whined, “warm Coke is gross.” Connie took it as an invitation to snatch the bottle from Sasha and drink the rest. Marco chuckled as Connie and Sasha began throwing jabs at one another. Jean wiped his sticky fingers on his pants.

Jean was leaning back, half on the wall and half on his backpack, one of his legs lazily propped up and the other stretched out. One of his hands rested at his abdomen as his head throbbed. His skateboard upside down on his lap. His entire body ached.

As much as he missed his friends and skating he was thoroughly exhausted as suddenly the weight of the entire day came crashing down on him. He wanted to sleep, so badly. The backs of his ears were damp with sweat, the air was perfectly warm and cool at the same time. It was dark. The stars were out, and here when it was quiet, it was too easy for Jean’s mind to wander. 

He lazily fumbled through his backpack, and the edge of his finger felt around. Without even thinking grabbed a stray cigarette and slid it into his mouth. He fumbled for his light, the smooth metal body feeling heavy like a stone in his palm as he lit his cigarette. He looked up at the stars, noticing how the twinkling stars looked like grains of glass catching light before he noticed his friends staring at him.

“Since when do you smoke? Thought you were like, super against it, ‘cuz of your dad.” Connie quirked his brow. Jean was almost just as surprised with his own actions, how accustomed has Jean become to smoking and drinking everyday? How accustomed had Jean become to Eren?

Jean just shrugged, a half grin crawled on his face as he tried to maintain an air of nonchalance, “Guess I’ve picked up some bad habits while I was away.”

After more questions, eventually his friends’ attention slipped away from him as they drifted into another conversation about Marco. Jean didn’t pay them much mind as he began tuning them out. If he half closed his eyes, he could imagine the clicking of glass Coke bottles as Heineken instead and the acrid smell of the city as the sweet smell of summer.

He opened his eyes again, wondering what he was doing. Maybe smoking Eren’s cigarettes was bringing back too many memories of him.

He took the cigarette out from between his lips and was about to offer it to one of his friends when he saw it. Jean froze. On the barrel of the half-smoked cigarette were initials.

Lazily and sloppily written with black ink on the white part of the cigarette where the flame threatened to burn. Initials. 

 ‘J + E’ 

Jean remembered when they had written it, when they were curled on Eren’s bed, before they had been revealed. Eren’s arms around Jean’s waist, his chin resting on Jean’s chin. Jean had asked for a light, but Eren had snatched the unlit cigarette in Jean’s mouth, only to give it back with those damn initials written on. Jean had laughed, actually feeling happy and safe.

It was imperfect, beautiful, maddening. Reminiscing the summer’s heat closing in on them that had allowed their infatuation to grow, but summer would be gone and seasons would come and go, taking any feeling, any memories they had of each other.

Jean’s chest tightened as he stubbed the cigarette out on the cement. The  rolled cigarette and those damn initials became nothing more than ash.

Their love would be gone soon enough, Jean's memories of lazy summer nights, of cigarettes, smoke, of Heineken and Eren would soon be gone, leaving him when summer did.

FIN.

꒰ ✩ ꒱