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Unfortunately, Jean was having a hard time kicking back with the other guys of the 104th like he usually did. Training had picked up a lot these past few weeks and he was so damned tired, but that wasn’t the problem. Something had happened the night before that had shaken everyone up, and now it felt like they could see right through him, like they knew too much, and he couldn’t stand it.
“I mean, in a way, I get it.” Nack crossed his arms, stretching out his legs on the double bed he shared with Thomas. “There are only so many girls in the cadets. Guys get desperate. I just couldn’t—”
“I couldn’t, either,” Samuel jumped in. “We don’t do things like that where I come from. I don’t know how things are in the cities, but back in Snate…” His voice trailed off, but Jean realized, with a start, that his gaze had wandered his way. He felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He squared his shoulders and stared grimly at his blanket.
Anything to shirk Samuel’s attention.
“It isn’t just Snate,” Franz jumped in. “In my neighborhood, if you were caught with another guy, people would laugh at you. And make that double if they were in the military. We’re meant to be men, aren’t we? Not—”
“Franz,” Thomas cut him off, but that didn’t stop Jean from spiraling. He could only imagine what the other boy was going to say, and if you’d asked Jean two months ago he might’ve even agreed. But now it made his skin crawl.
It was easy for Franz to talk about being “men;” hell, he had a girl, and a pretty one at that. Jean wanted to point that out, but he didn’t trust his voice not to crack. Marco must’ve caught the struggle on his face, because he gave his arm a slight nudge like he was suggesting they leave.
He couldn’t get up, though, and risk drawing more attention. He glanced at Marco and shook his head once. He’d never explicitly told his friend what he was up to, but Marco was an intuitive guy. He’d likely noticed him leaving their bunk in the middle of the night. He must’ve at least had an inkling.
Not to mention he was friends with Armin. But if Marco thought they were the two Shadis had caught in the bath alone last night, he was totally wrong.
He and Armin were more discreet than that. He wouldn’t risk anything that could get him disciplined—let alone something that could jeopardize his future.
He wished they’d go back to discussing which girls were still single, but after their instructor’s warning about “hanky panky” in the cadet corps, the guys just wouldn’t drop it, and it felt like they were closing in.
Jean stole a quick look around the group. Armin wasn’t around, of course, but a few other guys looked as frustrated by the conversation as he felt. Connie had his pillow over his head like he was trying to sleep, and Reiner was staring at the bedpost like it had something written on it. Marco was plucking at a loose thread on his pants, and Thomas had his lips pressed into a line.
He hoped one of them would stop this talk, and soon, but the other guys wouldn't let it go.
“Do you think it was Armin?” Milieus asked under his breath.
Jean’s whole body froze. Ice cold dread flooded his veins. “Why do you say that?” Somebody spat. It sounded to Jean like it had come from one of the other guys, but when he touched his mouth he realized he was the one who had spoken. His stupid tongue had moved on his own.
He narrowed his eyes, grimacing at himself, then glaring at the several other boys now looking his way. He hoped that would deter their eyes from lingering too long on him, but if anything, it seemed to have the opposite effect.
Even timid Milieus puffed out his chest and turned to face him. “What do you mean, Jean? Haven’t you seen him?”
“I have,” Daz jumped in. “He’s a smart guy, and all, but I thought he was a girl at first. And with the way that Eren jumps in to defend him like an angry dog. I think you’re onto something, Milieus. It’s gotta be them. It makes sense.”
For some reason, the thought of Armin with Eren annoyed Jean enough to forget to be cautious. He sat up straight and craned his neck to look around Marco to the row of bunks behind him. Thankfully, Armin’s bed was still empty–as was Eren’s. The two were probably still out with Mikasa.
If anyone else noticed they were gone, they might draw the wrong conclusions. He angled his back to block their view, crossing his arms, and leaning back against the bedpost. “It’s not them. Eren is an idiot, but he wouldn’t risk getting in trouble, and Armin—”
Armin wouldn’t fool around with his friend when he was sleeping with Jean, but of course, Jean couldn’t blurt that out. “Armin has other stuff going on. He’s weak, sure, but he’s not some—some pansy.”
The word hadn’t even left his tongue before he recoiled from it, but he had to say it, not because he thought it was right, but so they wouldn’t say it first. He couldn’t stand to hear them talk about Armin any longer, speculating about someone he knew better than any of them.
It wasn’t their business what Armin did with Jean when they were alone. He hated how they jumped to conclusions, pretending to understand something they just didn’t get.
They didn’t know how it felt to like someone and not dare admit it, to wait for days for a single private moment, only to overthink it afterwards, worrying they’d been too bold. Jean always feared he’d been too bold, and that every time they tussled would be the time they got caught.
He vowed he wouldn’t get caught tonight, no matter what he had to say. He shot them a challenging look that only Daz shot back. Milieus was studying his lap, slightly flushed, and Thomas had one hand up and his mouth slightly open, but even he didn’t say anything. No one did.
Reiner had gotten up and left. Connie was so deep under his blanket it was hard to tell if he was still there, and Marco studied him closely, looking as tense as Jean felt.
At least he’d shut them up, but that didn’t make him feel any better.
“I’m heading to bed,” he announced. “Let’s go, Marco. Shadis will make us run laps tomorrow for sure, after all this.”
Marco didn’t reply, but Jean could tell from how the mattress squeaked that he’d crawled out of Nack’s bunk to trail him. Part of him worried what his friend might say when they were out of earshot, but other concerns quickly won out.
When they emerged into the aisle between the two main rows of bed, Jean saw something that made his feet slow and his heart stop. Just two beds away, in the bed Reiner shared with Bertholdt, sat Armin. He had his back turned, but his blond head was so low Jean couldn’t see more than the top above his slumped shoulders.
He must’ve overheard. Jean couldn’t see his face, but he could tell that he was shaking, trying hard to hold himself in check as he mended a tear in Bertholdt’s blanket.
His fingers quivered so hard he almost dropped the needle when he pulled the thread through the weave. Bertholdt might not have noticed, but Jean did.
He could tell Armin was hurt, and he ached with regret, but he couldn’t go over there either. The other guys might still be watching. He hoped Armin would understand he was trying to defend him, to get these guys off their trail.
He hoped he would forgive him. As nervous as Jean was about getting caught, the thought of going through the rest of training without Armin was even worse. Now that he knew how good it felt to have another man wrapped in his arms, there was no going back.
Armin hadn’t had the chance to speak to Eren alone since the battle of Trost, but any relief he felt at finally seeing him faded the moment their conversation turned to where he was sleeping.
“Captain Levi gave me the okay to move.” His green eyes danced in the torchlight, but rather than sharing in his excitement, Armin took a half step back.
The small smile he summoned was harder to keep up than it should’ve been. “That’s great!”
“So that means I can room with you. I’ve got my things.” He patted the standard issue bedroll tucked under his arm unnecessarily. Armin had already noticed it when they crossed paths on their way to the mess hall. “Just show me where you’re sleeping and I’ll drop this off. I don’t want to carry it to dinner.”
“Ah, okay.” Armin’s voice sounded small even though the passage they stood in had a slight echo. “But I already have a roommate. I didn’t know they’d let you out. We all paired off after initiation.”
“So tell him you need to swap. It’s not a big deal. Or else the three of us can bunk together. There’s more than enough room, right?”
“Right.” It was true, after the barracks they’d piled into as cadets, the rooms at Scouts Headquarters were luxurious. There was enough space for three, even with only two beds. But that wasn’t the problem.
The problem was who Armin was currently rooming with. To his chagrin, his friend must’ve picked up the nervous look that crossed his face. Eren knew him way too well, and he knew what to ask.
“So, who’s your roommate? Someone from the 104th?”
Armin broke from his stare, clutching his arm behind his back, as if clinging to it could fight back the quiver creeping up his spine. “It’s Jean.”
“Jean? Jean Kirschtein?”
Armin nodded once and forced himself to meet his friend’s gaze.
He quickly wished he hadn’t. Eren’s arms were open, and his eyes flashed with annoyance—or was that indignation? “So just tell him you’re moving. No big deal! Captain Levi said there are rooms to spare. You shouldn’t have to be with that guy, Armin. I’m sure you were being nice, but he can room with Connie. I’m sure it’s fine.”
Armin didn’t trust himself to interrupt, not wanting to sound panicked. His heart was already pounding so loudly he was afraid his friend might hear it, and his throat was so tight, there was no way he wouldn’t choke on his own voice. He forced a nervous smile, but it wasn’t nearly enough to deter Eren.
He touched Armin’s shoulder and frowned. Armin didn’t mean to flinch, but his body reacted on its own, tensing under his friend’s concerned touch. He didn’t want him to worry; he just wished that he could make him understand.
“I want to room with Jean,” he finally admitted, after swallowing the lump in his throat.
Eren answered immediately, “Why?”
Armin stared into his friend’s eyes, then tilted his head slowly to the side. Where should he even start? Back in training? That first time Jean backed him into the corner and he’d covered the taller boy’s scowl with his own eager lips? Or what about that night after the battle for Trost, when Jean had wrapped his arms around his waist, clinging to him like he never wanted to let go?
That night was the first time Jean had touched him openly. It had felt so good to be held like that in front of everyone, even if the circumstances that had brought them there were tragic. With Jean’s strong palms on him and the fire warming his tearstained cheeks, they had faced the unthinkable together.
So much had changed in these past two weeks, he didn’t know where to begin—but Eren didn’t let him, anyway.
“Look, Armin.” He gave his arm a squeeze that didn’t reassure him as much as he had hoped, but at least he didn’t flinch this time. “I know you probably feel bad. I feel bad, too, and if he wants to be a scout, that’s great. But he’s never been nice to you.”
‘He has!’ Armin wanted to insist, but he couldn’t get his tongue to move.
“I mean, remember the things he used to say about you! He was a bully.”
Armin hadn’t forgotten, of course, but it was more complicated than Eren even realized. Back at the barracks, Jean would laugh along with the other guys who called him names and said he’d never cut it in the military, but when they were running through the woods or sleeping under the stars, he would pin him and claim his mouth in desperate kisses.
He would steal the air right out of Armin’s lungs, kissing him until his knees buckled. No one had ever made him swoon so much, and he wanted his friends to know, he really did, but for an unspoken understanding he had with Jean.
The other boy cared so much about what other people thought, and though he’d never asked him directly to lie to his friends—and if he had, Armin would’ve retorted that he didn’t keep anything from them—he just hadn’t spoken up. Out of respect for Jean’s wishes, out of concern about losing what they had? He wasn’t sure, but the longer he’d kept their secret the more unthinkable it felt to reveal it.
Maybe that was why he cherished that moment by the fire and clung to it so hard. Without so much as a word, Jean had reached for him, as if holding him openly was the easiest thing he’d ever done.
He really wished Eren had seen it.
“Look, Armin. Jean doesn’t deserve your kindness. Plus, I want to room with you. We’ve always done everything together, right? I just thought…”
Armin’s heart sank. He didn’t blame Eren for jumping to the wrong conclusions without all the information, and after everything that had happened to him over the past month, Armin knew he needed to be there for him. He couldn’t push away his friend, who had protected him for years, just to chase the guy he liked.
As much as he loved to be held by Jean, it wasn’t fair to hold Eren at arm’s length.
“I’ll get my things after dinner.” He glanced at his feet, then mustered the kind of smile he should’ve given Eren from the start. “I’m sure Jean will understand.”
“And if he doesn’t, he’ll just have to deal with it,” Eren added after he’d let go of his arm and started down the hall.
Armin’s footsteps faltered. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself, before trailing his friend into the mess hall. Eren drew a few stares when he entered, and a few more on his way to a table against the far wall where Mikasa was already waiting for him. Her black eyes danced in the lamplight. She looked so happy to see him.
On the other hand, no one paid Armin more than a quick glance. Jean didn’t even seem to notice him, absorbed as he was in a loud conversation with two veteran scouts on the other end of the room.
Armin was used to that; he’d made peace with it, even, accepting it as part of who Jean was as a person and contenting himself with the private moments they shared, which had become even more frequent now that they shared a room. It had been a great month; it would be sad to see it end.
But pushing Eren to move into their room when he clearly didn’t want to wouldn’t solve things, and he doubted Jean would so much as touch his arm if Eren was asleep in the other bed. If they had to stay a secret, there was only so much Armin could do. He had made peace with that, as well.
He turned his attention back to his friends, eating in relative silence while Mikasa questioned Eren about his treatment over the past weeks. To his relief, it sounded like his friend had been well cared for, and had even had the chance to speak at length with the section commander. It was nice to see him settling in, even if his position here was still in flux pending the military court’s ruling.
Armin believed his friend would accomplish everything Commander Erwin asked of him, and he resolved to support him through it. After dinner concluded and Eren left with Mikasa to ask the captain for a room assignment, he departed to pack up his things.
He passed Jean’s table on the way out, but the other boy was already gone. That was probably for the best. Some conversations were better had in private, even if the prospect of that made Armin’s heart sink.
He arrived at their door, knocking before rummaging for his key in his pocket. Jean opened up the moment his fingers closed around it.
“Hey,” he said in a hushed voice that made Armin’s scalp prickle.
“Hey.” He clasped his hands behind his back. The private smile Jean flashed him as he stepped in made his heart sink even deeper, but he found his resolve and headed for the bed he’d been sharing with Jean.
He picked one blanket at random and folded it in half. They’d been given them at the exact same time, so neither of them had any notion of what was Jean’s and what was his. Doing his best to shirk the other boy’s bemused look, he started to roll it in his palms. His fingers quivered around the scratchy wool.
A questioning hand landed on his shoulder. Unlike Eren’s, this one didn’t clench down, but Armin still flinched. He was wound up, knowing what he needed to say, but he couldn’t find his voice.
Staring at their shared bed only made it worse. He gave up on rolling the bedding, bunching it up under his arm, and whipping around to look anywhere except at Jean. “Eren wants me to room with him.”
The air suddenly shifted. Jean took a step back, leaving Armin bereft of the pressure on his shoulder. He missed it far more than he had even anticipated.
Jean’s voice was raw when he finally replied, “But you told him no, right?”
Armin clutched his bedroll to his chest and slowly turned around. He caught a flash of desperation in Jean’s eye that made him instantly wish he hadn’t looked. Shaking his head, he did his best to answer with his words, but he feared he’d sound even rawer than Jean.
“So…what?” Jean continued when he couldn’t, glancing from bed to bed, then throwing open his arms. His expression changed, looking more panicked than desperate. At first, Armin wasn’t sure why, until he added, “He better not be coming here.”
“He’s not,” Armin jumped in. He looked up at the other boy and clutched the bedroll until his hands shook. He had a guess why Jean didn’t want Eren in their room, but he needed to hear him say it. “Why?”
Jean took a step back. His calves collided with the bed they’d never used, and at first it seemed like he might sit down on it and try to claim it. But he didn’t. He looked down into Armin’s narrowed eyes instead. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head.
“We’re settled in here already,” he pointed out rather than addressing the question.
Armin squared his shoulders and jutted out his chin, but he didn’t really feel defiant. He didn’t feel trapped, either, like he had when Eren confronted him in the hall. He just felt sad.
The crack in Jean’s voice certainly didn’t help. “I just thought things were going well. You seemed happy to be here.”
“And I am,” Armin tried his best to reassure him. “I like sleeping here, Jean, but Eren needs me. He’s my best friend, you know.”
“Yeah, but I’m your boyfriend.”
Armin’s brows rose. His heart skipped a few beats, like it was holding its breath until Jean said those words again. Given everything, there was so hard to believe. “Are you?” Armin cracked a smile that hurt to maintain for more than a second. “I didn’t know.”
How could he know, when Jean did everything to hide it? When he was so worried about Eren finding out that he couldn’t stand the thought of having him in their room? He wanted to believe in those moments by the fire, but that had been a hard night for everyone. Nobody had so much as glanced their way, and if they had, would they have even understood what the gesture meant?
Armin doubted they would. He doubted they’d ever suspect Jean was with another man, that they’d ever suspect Jean of all people had kissed him and held him. Even Eren couldn’t see through the front he put up.
Armin couldn’t really understand how he felt. After all, the boys back in Shiganshina had told Armin what he was before he knew himself. He had asked Dr. Jaeger what their taunts meant, and the doctor had dropped to one knee and explained things thoroughly. He had assured Armin that it was just a phase, but it was clear from his tone that he didn’t believe that.
Armin hadn't been given the option to hide who he was. Jean could hide, and Armin didn’t fault him for wanting to do so. He only wished the thought of sleeping without him didn’t hurt so bad. How quickly he’d started to expect it.
Jean looked away as he scooped up the bag that held his uniform and ODM gear. He didn’t move or say anything at all when Armin placed his bedroll on top of it and turned to go.
It was only when he turned the knob that a hand landed on his wrist. It was clammy and cold. “Wait.”
Armin glanced over his shoulder. The other boy met his gaze with a frown so deep it creased the corners of his lips, but he didn’t say anything. Even though Armin waited with all the patience and hope he could muster, Jean looked away, hanging his head and heaving a sigh.
“Fine,” he muttered.
‘Fine,’ Armin thought as he closed the door behind him. His heart ached, but he’d given Jean a chance. It was clear he’d made up his mind.
Jean hadn’t felt truly lonely in his life up until now. Growing up, his mother had often pried into his business, and though he realized now that she had meant well, at the time he had felt like he was drowning. His time in the cadet corps had been even more stifling, and the whole time he would’ve killed for a room to himself, to change by himself, to wash his face alone.
But now that he finally had the solitude he had always craved, it felt oppressive. Maybe it was because he’d tasted something even better—real companionship, someone he could hold close when the ache in his chest became too much to bear.
He missed Armin’s pleasant weight against his chest when he awoke before dawn in a cold sweat. He missed the soft hand he had pressed to his face, the small thumb that used to wipe away his frown, and those wide blue eyes glimmering in the early morning light leaking in through the window.
They had only spent a month in that room together, but Jean had gotten so used to having him there, he hadn’t once considered he could lose him.
That was a bit naive of him, honestly. He should’ve learned his lesson already, that he should cherish what he had before it slipped through his fingers.
He heaved a sigh, plunging his hands into the water in his basin, and splashing it on his face. The ice cold tendrils rolling down his cheeks were a poor substitute for Armin’s small fingers.
‘He’s not gone,’ he reminded himself as he dressed. He hadn’t lost him like he’d lost Marco, but the ache felt too similar. There was a hole in his chest where both of them should’ve been, and in his head, so many conversations that should’ve gone differently, so many things he wished he’d said that he’d never get the chance to say.
‘No, it isn’t like that.’ He dragged his fingers through his hair and frowned at the small mirror hanging above the bed they’d once shared. His eyes were far more sunken and weary than they should’ve been on the morning of their first mission. He was too stuck in his head, spiraling about something he hadn’t lost. Armin hadn’t ended things with him, after all; he’d only chosen Eren.
Jean’s frown turned to a scowl, and he wrenched his gaze away from the mirror. He had no business asking Armin to prioritize his feelings. They weren’t formally together. It wasn’t like they’d ever made things official. Had Jean wanted to? Sure. Deep down, he had, but it wasn’t so easy.
Even among friends, he was scared to do anything that might reveal his true feelings. Not wanting to be mocked and called names was part of the problem, but it went deeper than that. Exposing something he’d closely guarded for so long was an intimidating thing.
It felt like tearing out his heart and holding it out to be judged by his friends and superiors, and he just wasn’t used to that. Even back in the cadet corps, flanked on all sides by other guys, his heart had been a private place, a refuge nobody else could find.
Well, nobody else but Armin.
Ugh, he needed to focus on this mission before he figured out what to do. There would be no healing things with Armin if he was dead. Throwing on his deep green cape over his uniform, he exited his room and trudged to the mess hall with his hands in his pockets. When he arrived, one of the veterans called him over and passed him a letter meant for the commander.
It felt good to be trusted, and even better to have something to focus on other than Armin, so he forgot about eating and hurriedly scaled the stairs to the top floor. He’d never visited Commander Smith’s chamber, but its high double doors made it easy to find.
He rapped once on the carved wood, then took a step back and assumed a salute with the missive tucked behind his back. Inside, there was a faint rustling of fabric and a few small creaks that were quickly drowned out by heavy footfalls.
For some reason, Jean’s heart leapt to his throat. Maybe it was the anticipation those weighty footsteps inspired, or the fact he’d never spoken to Commander Smith alone. The intimate setting sure didn’t help, either. He suddenly felt like an intruder, and an insignificant one at that, dwarfed by those heavy wooden doors.
His mind quickly flashed to Armin. Even at his small size, he never shrank in the commander’s imposing shadow. He really was braver than him in almost every way.
The door eased open, revealing the commander’s chiseled face, stern but handsome, and his gleaming blue eyes that reminded Jean of someone else. Snapping to attention, he shifted the hand over his heart a hair to the left just to make sure he had it right. “Jean Kirschstein, sir. I have a message from Gelgar.”
“Hand it over.” The commander’s tight lips softened, but his thick, furrowed brows made his expression look every bit as intense as it had before.
Jean suddenly forgot how to move his arm. He fumbled to get the letter out from behind his back, and when he finally did, he instinctively averted his gaze. Or maybe it was the slight stirring behind the commander that drew his eye.
He realized with a start that Erwin Smith wasn’t alone. A short and slender someone had risen from the bed in the corner, angling their torso away from him as they tucked an airy white shirt into their uniform pants.
It wasn’t Jean’s business, of course, and it wasn’t exactly shocking, either. As commander, Erwin Smith must’ve had women falling all over him, both in and out of the Scouts. There was a time when Jean imagined himself rising to a similar rank for the exact same reason, but that felt like a distant dream when he couldn’t even get the one person he wanted to stay.
It must’ve been nice, not having to sleep alone.
Heat prickled at the back of Jean’s neck, but whether it was irritation or shame at butting into the commander’s business, he wasn’t sure. Commander Smith sure wasn’t doing much to hide the situation he’d caught him in. He unrolled the missive and stepped to the side to read, as the slender figure from the corner headed his way.
In the light from the hall, the other person’s visage came into focus. Their short stature and delicate features might have been mistaken for a woman at a distance, but their narrowed eyes and tightly-pressed lips gave away who they were. They’d never spoken, but Jean would’ve known that face anywhere.
He felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs, like the rug had been ripped out from under him and he was now plummeting to the floor below. But he couldn’t let his shock show, not when the other two men—his superior officers, no less—looked so at ease.
Without a word, Captain Levi waited by Erwin’s side until the other man held out the letter. He gingerly plucked it from his hand. Their fingers brushed, but neither of them flinched.
“You’re dismissed.” The commander’s dulcet voice thrust him back into the moment.
He bit the tip of his tongue to stop it from moving on its own and offered another stiff salute. As he turned to leave, he caught Commander Smith touching Levi’s shoulder. Their cheeks must’ve brushed with the way he was leaning in to read.
Jean’s neck was on fire, and his mind was reeling as he hurried down the winding steps to the courtyard. Part of him scrambled to make up a dozen excuses for what he’d just seen, but the other, more honest part knew there was no denying it.
If two guys like them could act like that in front of a new recruit without hesitation, what else was possible here? If others knew, they surely wouldn’t mock Jean for his feelings for Armin. The commander set the tone of the entire regiment. If he was bold enough to do it, how could Jean feel ashamed?
The morning sun was bright, but the air was still cool enough it made Jean’s scalp prickle. A group of new recruits that would be filling the ranks of the relay teams had gathered by the stables to saddle their horses. A familiar figure stood slightly apart from the rest, his blond bob gleaming like gold in the sun.
The straps on his lower back accentuated the curve of his waist. Jean’s fingers knew that curve too well, and itched to trace it now, treading a familiar path they’d sorely missed these last lonely nights. He longed to bury his face in his hair and inhale the soft scent that used to keep him company in the lonely dead of night.
He longed for the comforting caress of his fingers against his flushed neck. His small hand could’ve shielded him from the cold wind, but instead it was scooping grain out of a bucket, and it was a horse’s sloppy mouth, not Jean’s lips, pressing into his open palm.
Everything in Jean wanted to rush over, to wrap his arms around his waist and spin him around, losing himself in his wide eyes—maybe for the last time.
But when Jean approached, it was Connie, not Armin, who turned to him and waved. Whatever courage he’d cobbled together after seeing the commander waned under his friend’s gaze. His toothy grin looked like it was poised to bark out a laugh, and Reiner stood behind him, studying Jean closely.
It was as if they’d already guessed his intentions and waited to see if he would do it. That was impossible, of course. Jean had never breathed a word to any of them, except that one time by the fire—
“Hey.” He shirked their gaze by picking up his own bucket of feed and approaching his horse, tethered right next to Armin’s.
He was acutely aware of the other boy’s presence even though he didn’t glance at him. Being around him made the air feel different: warmer, but somehow more tense. Letting out a small groan, he plunged his hand into the feed and held out his palm for the horse to eat.
Armin must’ve taken the sound for disapproval, because he glanced at him and frowned. That glance struck Jean down like a dagger to his heart.
“What now, Jean?”
His tone was light and soft, but it brought him no comfort. “Nothing,” he muttered. “I just want to leave. How much longer do we have to wait?”
“They’re reviewing the plans one last time with Eren.” Armin scooped up another handful of feed and held it out to his horse. “He was summoned early this morning by Squad Levi.”
“Ah.” Jean hoped he sounded indifferent rather than hurt by yet another reminder of where Armin was sleeping. Under different circumstances, he would’ve relished to share that he’d just run into Levi himself, but he doubted he’d get any satisfaction from it now. He wasn’t jealous of Eren for working directly with him; if anything, he was mad Eren had been let out at all.
He’d taken everything from Jean since then. No. Jean had lost Armin himself. He had to stop blaming Eren.
Another frustrated sound threatened to escape his lips, but he held it back when he glanced down at Armin’s outstretched hand. It was shaking slightly, like he was worried about Eren, or something else.
Jean couldn’t hold that against him, even if it was Eren’s wellbeing that plagued him. If Jean had been more worried about Marco, maybe he would’ve kept an eye on him and they’d both be in the capital soaking in this same sun without a care in the world.
He hadn’t watched him well enough then, and he hadn’t ever told him how much he meant to him. Now he’d never have that opportunity. For all he knew, they’d ride through the gate at Wall Rose and Jean would be crushed to blood and bones under a titan’s heel before he had the chance to break into formation, before he ever got to say a word to anyone again.
He chanced a glance at Armin, who had finished feeding his horse and now was running his small fingers through its mane. Even the great beast bowed under his earnest attention, tilting its long head to the side and soaking it in like it had nothing to fear.
But Jean knew they all had everything to fear: Jean, Armin, Eren, hell, even Commander Smith and Captain Levi. Was that why they had taken the time to steal a few moments together, not even deterred by Jean’s presence?
Did they already know what he was just starting to grasp? That if he didn’t act now, the person he loved—yes, loved—might slip away forever?
He didn’t let himself think anymore. He didn’t let himself feel his friends’ eyes on his back or the shadow of the castle looming over him. That reminder of what he’d already squandered, he could leave it in the past.
He reached for Armin’s arm and tried to lower it. At first, the shaking got worse, but then it melted away, and Armin looked up, the sun dancing in his eyes.
Jean broke from those eyes, reluctantly, by averting his gaze to the ground. If he didn’t, he might’ve gotten lost in their wide expanse, or lost his nerve completely, and he couldn’t risk that. He tightened his grip on Armin’s arm when he sensed him starting to shift his weight to step back. He didn’t want to be misunderstood. He didn’t want Armin to go in his final half second of hesitation.
He dusted off his other hand on his cloak, then brought it to Armin’s chin, tilting his head back so his whole face was bathed in sun. He quickly shaded it with his own, covering him completely, first by backing him against the stable door, then by pressing their lips together.
Hoping to let his mouth say all the things his tongue could not, he held him tightly and kissed him like the rest of the world had vanished. For a moment, it truly felt like it had. Armin’s mouth was every bit as warm as he remembered. His lips were tightly pursed at first, but slowly parted the longer he held him, as if inviting him back in.
Jean was ready to take whatever he offered, no matter what came next. He pressed his hands against his waist and kissed him until he’d lost his breath, and when they finally broke, he only looked at Armin. Not at their speechless friends, not at Reiner watching him with a bemused little smile, or the two veterans whispering a few stalls away.
Armin was blushing, and his blue eyes were gleaming in the sun, as boundless as the sea he was always telling them about. Jean had never seen it himself, but when he looked in Armin’s eyes, he thought he understood. Those blue eyes brimmed with hope, shining with the promise of a future Jean had only started to fathom. He was so glad he’d taken the first step, no matter where the path ahead of them might lead.