Chapter Text
DAM
It had been an accident.
A complete, total accident.
Sasha and Connie weren't snooping under Jean's cot. Technically. They were just... looking for the bread Jean had hidden. Everyone knew Jean hid extra bread. It was practically public knowledge.
"Look under the mattress," Connie whispered, keeping watch while Sasha searched.
"I'm looking!" Sasha was on her knees, her hand groping under the cot. "There's something here... it's not bread... it's like a... notebook?"
She pulled it out.
It was indeed a notebook. Brown leather cover. Worn. Clearly very used.
"Maybe it's a diary," Connie said, already approaching with that dangerous glint in her eyes. "We should read it."
"I don't know..." Sasha hesitated. "That seems like an invasion of privacy."
"Sasha. You literally stole Captain Levi's last potato last week."
— ...Good point. Open it.
Connie opened the notebook to a random page.
She stopped.
She blinked.
— Uh. — he said eloquently. — Sasha. You... you're seeing what I'm seeing?
Sasha looked.
Her eyes widened.
— Are these... drawings? — she said slowly.
— Of Eren. — Connie finished. — They're drawings of Eren. Lots of drawings of Eren.
They turned the page.
More Eren.
Another page.
Even more Eren.
— Jean draws? — Sasha whispered, surprised. — And... does he draw WELL?
Because the drawings were good. Really good. Detailed. Realistic.
There were sketches of Eren in uniform. Eren training. Eren eating. Eren smiling (rare). Eren angry (very common). Eren sleeping. Eren in profile. Eren laughing at something Armin had said.
Page after page after page. — This has to have about... — Connie began counting. — ...fifty drawings? Sixty?
— More. — Sasha turned to the beginning of the notebook. — Look. There's a date here. This started... two years ago?!
— TWO YEARS of secretly drawing Eren?! — Connie was almost shouting now, so she quickly lowered her voice. — My God. Ymir was right. He's OBSESSED.
They continued turning pages.
And then they reached the... other pages.
— Oh. — Sasha said.
— Oh no. — Connie added.
— It's... this is... — Sasha was blushing now.
— Shirtless Eren. — Connie finished. — Eren... very shirtless. Eren in just a towel. Eren... is that Eren coming out of the shower?!
— And there's... — Sasha pointed to a particularly detailed sketch. — ...muscle definition. Lots of muscle definition. Shading. LOTS of shading.
— Jean spent TIME on this. — Connie observed, impressed and horrified at the same time. — Like... hours. Look at the details. He knows exactly what Eren's abs look like.
— How does he know so well?! — Sasha whispered, scandalized.
— Probably from rolling around on the floor every time they fight. — Connie replied. — Remember yesterday? They literally fell and Eren was on top of Jean for like ten seconds before Mikasa separated them?
— And last week Jean knocked Eren down and they were... — Sasha gestured. — ...stuck. For a while. A long time. A weird time.
They turned more pages.
— WAIT. — Connie stopped on a specific page. — This... this is Eren SMILING?! At Jean?!
It was. A drawing of Eren with that rare half-smile, looking at something off the page with an almost... gentle expression.
And there was a small note in the corner: "after I said his food was good - 03/15"
— Jean cooked for him? — Sasha was processing. — And Eren... liked it? And SMILED?
— And Jean thought it was important enough to draw and write the DATE?! — Connie held the notebook as if it were evidence of a crime. — Sasha. Sasha, this is SERIOUS.
— It's a romantic emergency! — Sasha agreed. — We need to do something!
— Like what?
Sasha thought for exactly three seconds.
— We lock them in a room and don't let them out until they kiss.
Connie looked at her.
— That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard in my life.
Pause.
— Let's do it.
The plan was put together with the subtlety of a Titan in a china shop.
Which is to say: zero subtlety.
First, Connie "accidentally" mentioned during lunch that she had something important to show Eren in the basement supply room.
"It's about... uh... that thing," he said mysteriously. "The important thing. The secret thing."
Eren frowned. "What thing?"
"THE THING," Connie blinked dramatically. "You know. The thing we can't talk about in front of everyone."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Just... come with me at three o'clock. Supply room. It's important."
Eren was still confused, but he shrugged.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the cafeteria, Sasha was having a practically identical conversation with Jean.
"I need you to get those... supplies," she said, blinking equally dramatically. "In the supply room. At three o'clock."
"What supplies?" Jean asked suspiciously.
"The... special ones?" Sasha improvised terribly. — Like... the ones that are... special?
— Are you okay?
"PERFECTLY FINE!" she said too loudly. "Just leave at three o'clock! Please!"
Jean agreed mainly to get her to stop acting strange.
At three o'clock, Eren went down to the supply room.
It was small. Poorly lit. Full of boxes and shelves with various equipment.
He went in, looking around. "Connie? Are you there?"
No answer.
Strange.
Then he heard footsteps behind him.
He turned around.
And froze.
Because Jean had just walked through the door.
They stood there staring at each other for three whole seconds.
"What are you doing here?" Eren asked.
"Sasha sent me to get supplies," Jean replied. "What are YOU doing here?"
"Connie said she had something important to show me."
They processed that.
And then simultaneously: "Shit."
Eren turned to leave.
The door was locked.
"WHAT?!" — He knocked on the door. — CONNIE! OPEN THIS DOOR!
On the other side, Connie's muffled voice: — NO!
— CONNIE! — Jean joined Eren, knocking on the door. — THIS ISN'T FUNNY!
— It's not supposed to be funny! — Sasha's voice now. — It's supposed to be romantic!
— WHAT?! — Eren and Jean shouted together.
— You two aren't leaving until you kiss! — Connie announced cheerfully.
Absolute silence.
— ...HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MINDS?! — Jean exploded.
— A LITTLE! — Sasha admitted. — But we can't stand seeing you two dancing around each other anymore! It's painful!
— WE'RE NOT DANCING AROUND ANYTHING! — Eren punched the door.
— OH, PLEASE! — Connie retorted. — You two spend more time stuck to the floor arguing than most couples spend cuddling!
— BECAUSE WE'RE ARGUING! — Eren yelled. — IT'S NOT... IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH...
He stopped, his face turning red.
— Exactly. — Sasha said, satisfied. — So you two stay here and... sort it out. We'll be back in an hour.
— AN HOUR?! — Jean was panicking now. — YOU CAN'T LOCK ME IN HERE WITH HIM FOR AN HOUR!
— Of course we can! — Connie said. — We already did! Bye-bye!
Footsteps receding.
And then... silence.
Eren and Jean stood there, on opposite sides of the small room, carefully avoiding eye contact.
— This is... — Jean began.
— Ridiculous. — Eren finished. — Completely ridiculous.
— Yeah. — Jean agreed.
Uncomfortable silence.
— We... we just wait an hour. — Eren finally said. — And then we leave. Simple.
— Simple. — Jean echoed.
More silence.
Jean sat on a box. Eren leaned against the opposite wall.
Not looking at each other.
Definitely not thinking about how small and hot the space was and how difficult it suddenly became to breathe.
Five minutes passed.
— So... — Jean said, just to break the silence. — ...do you know why they think we... — he gestured vaguely.
— I have no idea. — Eren lied.
— Yeah. Me neither. — Jean lied too.
More silence.
— Do we fight a lot? — Eren asked suddenly.
Jean looked at him. — ...Are you asking this seriously?
— Yeah. Like... more than usual?
— Eren. We fought about porridge yesterday morning.
— You started it!
— YOU made the porridge explode!
— It was an accident!
— How do you accidentally make porridge EXPLODE?!
And there they were again. Standing. Closer to each other. Gesticulating. Voices getting louder.
Until they realized.
And they stopped.
Breathing heavily.
Fifteen centimeters apart.
— We... — Eren said softly. — ...we do this a lot, don't we?
— Yeah. — Jean replied, equally softly. — Like... constantly.
— Why? — Eren asked, and this time it was genuine. — Why can't we be near each other without... without this?
Jean was quiet for a long moment.
Then he said, honest in a way that rarely was:
— Because if we don't fight... — he hesitated. — ...I don't know what to do with you.
Eren blinked. — What does that mean?
— It means... — Jean looked away, his face turning red. — ...means fighting is easy. It's familiar. And anything else is... — he gestured in frustration. — ...complicated.
— Complicated how? — Eren pressed, taking a step closer without realizing it.
— Complicated like... — Jean finally looked back at him. — ...like I don't know if I want to punch you or... — he stopped.
— Or? — Eren whispered.
Jean looked at his mouth.
He realized what he was doing.
He looked up quickly.
— Nothing. — he said, stepping back. — Forget it. This is ridiculous. We're letting these idiots get into our heads.
— Yeah. — Eren agreed, but it didn't sound convincing even to himself. — Ridiculous.
They went back to opposite corners.
But the air seemed heavier now.
Charged.
— Jean? — Eren said after another five minutes.
— Hm?
— Why do you hate me so much?
Jean gave a short, humorless laugh. — I don't hate you.
— You... don't?
— No. — Jean admitted. — I never hated you. I just... — he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. — ...you irritate me. You drive me crazy. You make me lose my temper in ways that nobody else can.
— ...That sounds like hate.
It's not. It's... — Jean searched for the words. — ...it's something else. Something I don't know how to name.
Silence.
— And you? — Jean asked. — Why do you hate me?
— I don't hate you either. — Eren answered softly. — I just... whenever you're around I get... — he gestured in frustration. — ...I don't know. Agitated. Wanting to do something. Usually punch you.
— Usually? — Jean asked, and there was something strange in his voice. — And not usually?
Eren didn't answer.
And in the small, hot, locked room —
— the tension became almost palpable.
.....
Why is Eren so handsome and annoying?! Damn it, Jean!