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When Jean walks into Starbucks he doesn't expect to fall in love like a dumbstruck thirteen year old upon meeting Armin for the first time.
It's a discovery, if shared, that would have Connie laughing for hours and Marco accusing him of being rash with his feelings, so Jean thinks he's just miscalculated at first. Though there's this quality that Armin seems to possess which leaves Jean utterly smitten like a high school girl, and crushing his denial instantly. Maybe – he thinks – it's Armin's smile or his sunny blond hair, or maybe it's this radiance invisible to the naked eye which has Jean so drawn to him. Regardless of what the real quality may be, his sudden attraction hurdles at him like a kick in the gut.
There's no mistaking it when he finally comes to face to face with Armin.
It's the first time Jean has ever seen the blond when he approaches the register with Marco. Armin greets them cheerfully, with an earnest smile, one which has Jean's heart pounding in his ears and rendering him unfortunately, speechless.
He's never seen a girl, or boy, who is this cute and panic sets in at the thought of speaking to Armin as the said barista asks for their order. Suddenly, it's like his mouth doesn't work and Jean can't even remember what the hell he wants,”I-I'll have a umm medium—w-wait—I mean grande. A g-grande white motte—”
Armin looks puzzled, to say the least, and Jean is consciously planning where to dig his grave while Marco is giving him his usual “why am I even friends with you” look.
“White mocha!”He finally manages to blurt out,”I mean a g-grande white mocha.”
“And your name?”Armin then asks whilst scribbling on a white cup, not showing the slightest bit of amusement to his shortcomings.
“Je-J—”
“Jean.”Marco finishes for him with a sigh,”His name is Jean.”
Now he's done it. There's no hope left for him when Jean can't even say his own name without sounding like a complete fool. He can only imagine the laugh that Armin has to stifle right about now.
Before Jean can manage to look like even more of an idiot, Marco finishes their order and pulls him away; though just as he walks off in a gripe he manages to catch the name tag pinned to Armin's shirt. A smiles works it's way onto his lips, which Marco openly admits looks gross, as Jean gets a small sense of satisfaction by knowing the name of the guy he's helplessly infatuated with.
Even with his pathetic introduction, Jean goes back the next day, and he has to tell himself that Armin is only smiling out of courtesy when he appears and stumbles on his order once again.
*
Whenever Armin so much as looks at him, let alone speaks to him, it's like Jean has lost the ability to communicate. His throat goes dry and his mind goes blank and he can only imagine how amusing it may seem to Armin. Not to mention it was sudden death whenever the blond would smile and Jean immediately went weak at the knees. If it wasn't for Marco, his drink orders taken by Armin would have been more embarrassing and incomplete every time they walked in. The unfortunate pattern lasted for almost two weeks; Jean at an ultimate lost for words and Marco, his saving grace in light of his pathetic social skills.
This time, however, Jean manages to order his drink without stumbling on his words and he can practically hear Marco's relief. For the both of them, they're convinced it's nothing but a miracle. Right when Jean thinks he has a handle over his infatuation, the moment of confidence is quickly defeated as Armin just finishes calling his name.
The blond sets his desired drink on the counter and just when Jean is about to mutter a rushed “thank you”, Armin beats him,”Be careful, it's hot.”
“Y-Yeah, of course, you're hot.”
There's a moment of silence once the words stumble from Jean's mouth. All of the blood in his body collects in his cheeks and Jean is sure that he'll meet death soon. Armin looks at him like he's just committed a taboo but in the mind of Jean, it feels much worse, as if he's just been caught watching porn by his mother--
It's not like his words had been false, in fact, his statement was undoubtedly true and the only clear thought in his head besides “don't fuck up” whenever Jean saw Armin in the flesh. Therefore, it took him a moment to even attempt to deny his words, which still came out in a mess.
The corner of Armin's lips twitch,“What?”
“I-I mean of course it's hot!”Jean stutters,”Not you—wait no—not like y-you're unattractive or anything I mean—!”
Armin is laughing, he's actually laughing, and even if the source of amusement was most certainly from him Jean still thought the sound was a sweet melody to his ears.
“It's okay, don't worry about it.”Armin eventually manages with a smirk,”Enjoy your day, Jean.”
And with that, Jean almost drops his coffee.
*
Jean wishes he could just talk to Armin.
Of course, it would be easy if Jean didn't forget how to breathe and speak whenever he was in the blond's presence. Connie had told him to “grab life by the balls and just outright confess” though Marco had strongly advised him against it. With his lack of confidence, Jean didn't even have a pair to grab at this point. He was simply stuck with keeping his infatuation in the dark; left to admire from afar.
Although, Jean couldn't bear the fact, there were so many things he wanted to know and to learn about Armin that it's all he ever thought about. Underneath his earnest smile and green Starbucks apron was so much more and Jean wished he could inquire about it all without choking on his words.
However, it's not like Armin's outward appearance wasn't anything less than desirable. While he didn't possess the ability to speak like a normal human being at times, Jean was able to marvel at things which were more available on the surface.
Despite his lack of backbone, Marco thought of Jean to be admiring a little too much.
“Jean.” He hears the concern in Marco's voice.
“What?”
“You're staring, again.”
Jean can't even tell Marco he's wrong when his eyes are blatantly aimed at Armin's ass. When he snaps out of his wandering gaze the look on Marco's face is as judgmental as ever.
He lets out a strained sigh,“Don't look at me like that, Marco.”
“There's a limit to how shameless you can be, you know.”
“Right...”In defeat, he sinks in his seat,”If only I could touch it...”
“Jean!”
If he couldn't win Armin with sheer luck than Jean thought he might as well dream. After all, there was no shame in fantasizing when the object of his affections most likely thought ill of him. His head falls onto the surface of their note-cluttered table; he might as well give up.
It's Marco's turn to sigh,”Seriously, you're thinking of groping another man's body when you can't even speak to them.”
Jean narrows his eyes at the other in contempt before him; what did he know about one-sided love anyways? All Marco cared for was school and work and when a cute girl did approach him, he always accepted their feelings in the kindest manner. Right about now Jean could really hit the guy for being so lucky.
His distaste is quick forgotten when he hears someone other than Marco speaking for once.
“Oh, are you students of West Sina College?”
Jean sits up, a little too fast, shocking those around him as his body returns upright. His eyes fall upon the owner of the voice; Armin stands by their table, leaning against a broom as his finger still points to Marco's collegiate lanyard. The two continue to stare at Jean in chagrin.
Already, it feels like his stomach has risen to his throat and he can hardly breathe. The fact that Armin stands right in front him easily has Jean panicking by the second. Does his hair look okay? Has he been staring too long? What is Armin thinking? What if he's got food on his face? His mind is going a mile a minute and the best Jean does is blurt out a rather loud and rushed,”H-Hi!”
It's like he can feel Marco's disappointment from across the table.
After a moment of confusion Armin smiles, nonchalant, composed as always,”Hey.”
Jean can feel his heart racing against his chest as the blond warms his entire body with just a simple smile. He truly was a hopeless creature in the presence of Armin.
Marco clears his throat, answering for Jean,”Yeah, we're students.”
“Really?”Armin turns his attention to the other,”That's great, so am I.”
Even if his body refuses to let him, Jean finds that he can't get a single word in when Armin and Marco start speaking of their education and their interests as if he's not even there. Jean might as well not exist; he could choke on his tea and neither of them would take notice.
Although, he was keen on Marco choking on his tea, rather than himself at this moment...
“—what are you majoring in?” The question snaps Jean back into reality and his pulse sky rockets. Armin looks down at him with a hint of curiosity in his eyes that has Jean blushing like an absolute fool.
Armin is actually speaking to him. He's curious about him. Jean might faint from the elation.
At last, this was his chance to finally show Armin that he wasn't some pathetic loser who couldn't even form a coherent sentence. Jean can hardly breathe as the blond continues to wait for his response.
He inhales sharply,“I-I'm majoring in Management!”Even if he sounded overly enthusiastic, it was far better than his previous failures.
Armin smiles softly,”That's admirable.”Before Jean can even attempt to reply, one of Armin's coworkers had summoned him back to the counter,”Sorry, I've gotta get back to work! I'll see you later, then.”He walks away with a radiating smile and Jean just barely lifts his hand to wave in response.
Bewildered and starstruck, Jean remains seated with a terribly satisfied look on his face.
Marco frowns at him,“Jean, really, stop staring.”
*
On a rather fortunate day, Jean learns that Armin isn't shy at all.
Maybe – he thinks – that the number scribbled on his coffee cup is just a figment of his imagination but with the smirk on Armin's face there's no denying it. Jean had only walked into Starbucks, for once, without Marco and without any sense of false hope; he had stumbled over his order and sheepishly avoided the beautiful glint in Armin's eyes, as per usual. This, however, was far from the usual turn of events.
Despite his disbelief, the number on his cup is definitely Armin's.
Jean thinks he might drop his coffee in sheer awe and with his trembling hands it's quite possible. It's as if every little thing about the blond makes his heart stop; Armin's teasing smirk and loose ponytail only made him all the more cuter and Jean just might die. He has to say something before Armin thinks that giving out his number was a huge mistake.
The lump in his throat persists but Jean finally manages to find his breath,“H-How did you know?!”
“You're an open book. I knew you liked me from the second you walked in.” Armin chuckles before lightly flushing,”And...I like you too.”
He practically chokes, all the blood rushing to his head,”Y-You like m-me?!”
Armin nods with a smile before leaning over the counter and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Jean doesn't care that there are people around, doesn't care one bit, because Armin just kissed his cheek for the love of God.
“Call me, Jean.”
Then, for once, Jean returns a smile that's as bright as Armin's.