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Exhilarated. That’s what Hange felt as they exhaled, their mind coming down from a high. There– on the warmth of their bed, in the small bedroom offered to them along with their very own office– they laid, trying desperately to catch their breath from such a rigorous activity. The slick from their fingers not helping their thoughts at all, continuing to overstimulate such a sensitive area any time they dared and tried to move, and only then did they figure it would take a minute or two before they would even start to properly process what they had just been up to.
But how could they be rational at all? How could they, when that new cosmetic you recently bought drives them absolutely nuts, the tint of your lips making it increasingly hard for them to keep their composure, their hands, for goodness sake. A dangerously teasing color, no matter how innocent it might’ve looked to everyone else.
Exhausted. A few seconds have passed, and Hange felt exhausted, but they made no movement whatsoever. There they lay, a rigid arm clutched around a nearby pillow, one too achingly similar to your figure. A hand remained way past their waistband and moving ever so slowly against their folds, but knowing no other release would come, the minutes ticking by serving as a reminder of the upcoming duties they’d have to face, the people they’d soon encounter. But there was only one person they wanted more than ever to see and to have a chat with in their very own, private and secluded office.
Unfair. As Hange slowly came down from the high, they thought about how unfair it was. How unfair it was that they haven’t gotten the chance to have a taste of it, a taste of you. How unfair that such a thing could make your lips look even more plump and delicious, and that the others could see it. So public, so visible, and so not privately theirs. Such injustice, Hange thought. Something had to be done about this.
But before they could even get an inch of their hand retracted from their pants, a knock.
“Hange,” Your voice called out sweetly, unaware of the events that had unfolded behind the very door you stood in front of, “It’s like 15 minutes until you’re on the clock. You good? You ready to start the day?”
The sound of your voice did not help their already-hard-to-contain-feelings at all, but it sure helped them get up on their feet much faster. After all, you were right: They do need to start the day, they do need to get ready, but God, they would have to face you first upon exiting that door. See the very image of who they’d just been touching themselves to, all because of the idea, the thought, and the look of that new fucking tint on your lips. Earlier, they were excited to see you, yes, but in their current predicament– their current state of mind, they weren’t as thrilled. They were nervous as to what might happen if they spent another minute with you.
In a haste and in necessity, Hange begrudgingly gets up, forgetting to even clean themselves up properly as the day calls for them to spring into action. Only cleaning up their hand by wiping it on their underwear, they get up and attempt to make themselves as presentable as they could, but all of it is a lost effort the moment Hange opens up the door and reveals themselves to you.
They were disheveled, in a way that’s different than normal. Their hair is not as wild, as if they’d already been awake for a few minutes. Their eye not as puffy and tired looking, but more so… hazy and a little out of it.
“Good morning,” You greet cheerfully, “You look a bit… tired? Everything okay?”
Hange adjusts their glasses and haphazardly puts on their eyepatch, lips maintaining a cheery smile as they leaned on the doorway, “Hi dear, good morning. Just… woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess. But I’m okay, I promise.”
An oddity. It was surprising to have Hange not come up and be physical with you first thing in the morning.
So you take the chance yourself and walk up to them, taking in their hand, completely unaware of where it had just been, and kiss it softly at the back. Hange, frozen and stumped, makes no initiation to stop you. In fact, the warm feeling between their legs returns for a split second, shock coursing through their veins. They’re not as recovered as they think. To hide further embarrassment, they subtly take that hand of theirs and snake it around your waist instead.
“Nightmares? Or just in a bad mood? You’re usually peppy and all in the morning.” It doesn’t help that when you turn yourself to see them, you unknowingly show the very sight of what got them off in the first place. A pretty face matched with those pretty lips. Unfair.
“No, no, dear. Just… had some thoughts, I suppose.” Hange forces a smile and attempts to slip the conversation away to something else, “It feels really good to see you first thing in the morning, you know that?” They kiss the top of your head. Sweet as always, but you know them better than that, and you know there’s definitely something they’re hiding. But you don’t pry. Not now.
“Is it commander-related thoughts that I’m not allowed to hear or are you breaking up with me?” You joke, and it’s a sight to see Hange’s bewildered expression compared to the cheery, yet obviously serious face they’ve put on since the moment they opened that door. And in turn, you giggle. A mistake. A showcase of your pleasant sounding laugh. But most importantly, a showcase of your pretty lips smiling only for them. Unfair.
“What, no! Where’d you get that idea?” Hange facepalms and rubs their temples, “You are a force to reckon with in the morning, huh? You cheeky thing.” They then tease you by covering your entire face with their palm. The clean one, of course, but you don’t know that. But still… the fuck? Another oddity. Hange never did that.
“I’m just saying.” You reply once their grabby hand was finally swatted away from your face, turning to scan their features once again for any sign of hesitancy. Maybe you should be gearing up for a possible break up soon? You were nervous, but nothing really stood out. Not yet.
“I’m not breaking up with you!” Hange retaliates, their cheery personality bouncing back by the second with a smile.
“Okay, but I swear you’re acting weird.” You hold their forearms gently and turn to face them, “Something happened, I just know it. And if I'm wrong, then I’m wrong. But just… Come tell me if something’s bothering you, alright?”
Hange sighs, “You know me too well, huh?” You’d say this was another oddity, but you let it go. They’d usually be chatty about what’s bothering them. As much as it pained you to not know if there was something bothering your dearest, you knew to provide space.
“You know I do.” And as they were hesitating whether they should bring it up to you, you turn to let them wake by themselves, and return to fix up some of the messes in their office.
Hange watches you as you hum away, kindly organizing the mess of papers in the main table of their office. They can’t help it. Their eye wanders automatically to your lips, stupidly following it even with your back turned. They’ve noticed, and how couldn’t they: you put on that damned lip tint again, and it looks amazing on you. And surely, you put it on way before you even came in here. Certainly, whoever was already awake at this ungodly hour in the morning parading the hallways saw it. Most absolutely, Hange was jealous. Un-fucking-fair.
“Love,” They called out, their tone accidentally sounding a little colder and huskier than intended. They clear their throat, “Have I told you how good that lip tint you bought looks good on you?”
You twist your body to face them, “Uhm, yeah. You were practically beaming over me when we bought it. Why?”
Hange steps closer to you, although prolonging their arrival with a slow stride, “Nothing, nothing. Well, I was wondering if you… put that on just this morning?”
“Yeah, I put it on before I came here to see you. Why?” Growing curious, you cross your arms and turn to fully face their approaching figure. Suddenly the room doesn’t feel as big as Hange’s presence right now. “Is… that what was on your mind earlier?”
Hange hums, eye closing momentarily as their mind is taken back to the events that took place in their bedroom, and their voice returns a little huskier than intended. Subtlety was not in their game now, “In a way, yes.”
“Okay… and what about my lip tint? I don’t think I see where you’re getting to yet.”
Hange finally closes the distance, but not enough. They linger a foot away from you, lifting their hand to hold your chin, and gently examine your lips. You know this look– this obsessive haze in their eye– it’s the one they’d get when there’s something even remotely related to titans. You never thought you’d be under such a scrutinizing gaze from your partner, Commander of the Survey Corps. And you never thought you’d enjoy it.
“You put this on and others saw you.”
Silence stretches across the room, and the ways you both fill it speaks volumes for each of you. Hange takes the moment to admire you even more in their silent little ways, ogling at your every feature possessively, while you take the moment to register their purposeful words.
“You’re jealous?” Your suspicion leaves your lips, with a small smile playing by your face– teasing, testing the waters.
“It’s not just that,” Hange lowers themselves, their lips meeting the space where your neck and jaw meet, and speaks in between soft kisses, “It also looks too good on you, and now I can’t help it. I’m jealous. I’m jealous because I’m sure others saw it. The corps are quite the early birds, are we not?”
“So what if others saw?” You chuckle amidst your soft moans, “It’s not like they can do anything. I’m with the fucking Commander, for God’s sake. You think they’ll do anything to me?”
“Well it’s good news that nobody tried anything with you, dear. I’m just a little… bothered, I guess.” Hange scoffs, promptly detaching their lips from your skin, and returning to cup your cheeks, “Do you know how much it’s affected me?”
“What did?”
Their brows furrow for a second.
“Your lips looking so kissable ever since you put a bit of color on it,” Their thumb slides over your bottom lip, involuntarily causing you to part your lips. An unforgivable muscle memory, “It’s not fair to the Commander, you know.”
“And why is that?” You challenge, “Why is it not fair to the Commander, hm?”
“Because,” Hange frowns, “God, you have no idea.”
“Then tell me.” Now it’s your turn to be so feisty. While they collect their thoughts, you take the chance to run your hands through their hair, untangling bits of the mess it was in and massaging their scalp lightly as you take your turn to kiss them by the neck.
“Tell me, love.” Hange sighs from the feel of your lips touching their skin, and just as quickly, a soft moan right before regaining some composure, “What’s the point of seeing your lips and being unable to do anything about it, huh? God, ever since you started wearing that…”
“Does it excite you?” You giggle against their warm skin, burying your face in the crook of their neck, “Do I entice you when we’re in the hallways, Hange?”
“Yes.” They reply, tone damn near growling. It amuses you how frustrated Hange is. You don’t think you’ve ever seen them in such a state so early in the morning.
“Well…” You say definitively, “I’m here now. So why don’t you go and enjoy it, hm? Have a taste.”
“Have a taste…” Hange repeats to themselves, “Ah, when you offer yourself like that… how can I resist?”
In a haste, they tap your hip twice, urging you to sit on the sturdy wood, “Up. Get up.”
You oblige, but not before flashing a smile as you get on their tidy desk. “Someone’s impatient.”
“Because someone looks good. Can you blame me?”
Hange takes a second before devouring you, making sure to appreciate your beauty that extends farther than your lips. They cup your face, your cheeks squishing from the slight pressure under their hands. They look at your eyes, then at the hands that held their world, almost as if in disbelief, then finally down to your red tinted lips. And finally, finally, they reach down, their lips meeting yours.
And God, they’re hungry. They kiss you like you’re the only meal they’ll ever have, like you held every secret in the world and kissing you was the only way to know it. A thousand feverish kisses planted by your lips, and you return every single one of them back.
The only problem is, there’s knocking on the door.
“Han–mmf” You try to warn Hange, but to no avail. They shut you up with a tongue swiping through your lips, turning their name into a mere gasp.
You try your hands this time, pushing at their chest to try and get them to pry themselves off you, but only to be met with Hange’s stronger hands locking them by pressing them down on the wood by your sides. You feel teeth graze down on your lower lip in their resistance to stopping.
With another impatient knock from the visitor right outside Hange’s door, you groan a little more to signal them to acknowledge whoever’s outside.
After realizing you were staying put, Hange lets go of your hands and wraps one arm around your waist, one hand up your face again– the clean one, of course.
Until the door finally swings open.
“Commander–” You hear the scout's booming voice.
Only then does Hange pull away from you– but something tells you they’re not stopping the act you were caught on anytime soon.
Hange looks up, only mere inches away from your face, and quickly turns their gaze towards the poor scout. Their eye, as one might describe it, were nothing but annoyance and impatience— but one coming from an entirely different place compared to the scout’s.
“Out.” Hange’s stern voice fills the room. You stay frozen in place as you watch them inches and slightly on top of you.
You don’t see what the scout may be doing, but they must’ve had the courage to open their mouth and attempt to speak again because Hange cuts them off.
With your eyes still focused on Hange, veins become visible on their neck as they gather that same courage to reply back. Their brows furrow, eye narrowing by the slightest amount, voice yelling one simple word– a command, a plea, an order.
“OUT.” They say a little louder this time– maybe too loud– but their goal is achieved. You hear the door close shut.
You can’t say you don’t find all of this a little bit arousing.
Hange sighs, “I... apologize, I–”
Your lips find Hange’s to further shut them up, and they take it with a stunned gasp. “Tell that to the scout you just yelled at.”
“I really don’t know what came over me.” They run their (unclean) hand through their messy brown hair, standing upright. Like moving away from you will make their mind clearer.
“If it helps, I…” You bite your lip, not quite knowing if the words in your head are worth voicing out into the world.
“You what?”
“Mhmm, maybe not.” You tease and turn back to tidying up the desk.
“You what?” It’s Hange’s turn to smile this time, their arms snaking back to cradle you.
Voice high-pitched with nothing left to lose, you release your secrets quietly, “It was kind of… hot.”
Suddenly, Hange’s hands crawl slowly to yours, making you drop the papers you were holding. Their chest closes in, pressed and fully flush against your back. Lastly, they bring their mouth to where your ear stood still.
“Hot, was it?”
You gather up your own courage to speak. “Yes. But I have to remind you that you have to be up and working right now.”
To this, Hange sighs, the kind with the slightest, faintest growl, so you know that they’re frustrated.
“Then I’ll get to work.” An arm suddenly clutches your waist, “Turn around.”
“Wh–” Without warning, you’re spun, now turning to face Hange and once again leaning against the hard wood of their table.
The hand surrounding your waist leaves and comes up to grab your jaw. Gentle, and yet– with so much power. Controlling, needy, desperate. You’re left looking up at them, at their mercy and at their unanticipated actions.
Their other hand comes up, and only then did it hit you what they did, and wanted to do. They swipe at your lips your own previously bought cosmetic, tinting you up. You don’t know when, but they’ve stolen the very object of this source of jealousy from your pockets.
Only then when they’re satisfied with its color do they release their firm grip on your jaw. You pop your lips together in an attempt to further fix it up as Hange lowers themselves to your neck. Their hot breath was enough to make yours hitch in response. You feel them slip the lip tint back into your pocket as they suck the thin skin of your neck, occasionally lapping up the spot with their tongue and kissing it before going back to coloring– this time– your neck a painfully obvious shade of red. You can only hold onto their back for support as they hold you through their jealous process of marking you up.
Eventually, they come back up for air. One that didn’t smell of you.
“There.” Hange wipes at their mouth with their wrist hungrily, “Now that I’ve got my peace of mind, I think I can handle today just fine.”
They then have the audacity to smile at you like nothing impure happened. Like no one stumbled upon you. Like they were so innocent when they stole that lip tint from you and put it on you themselves.
“And don’t worry. I’ll say sorry to that scout later.”