Work Text:
Eren’s late. Go figure.
Jean swallows his irritation. It’s not like he’s being stood up. As annoying as Eren is, no one can call him unreliable. He seemed skeptical when Jean asked to meet him tonight, but he did say yes. When Eren says he’ll do something, he always sees it through.
Jean knows that too well.
Now it’s his turn to show that same persistence. The extra minutes of solitude may work in his favor. It allows him time to hype himself up. Jean already told himself he’s doing this, so he can’t back out. Even with this pit in his stomach that grows by the second.
Throughout the day, he practiced what words to use. Nothing felt right. Most of his conversations with Eren involve childish insults and shoulder shoves. Doing the complete opposite, Jean has no clue how Eren will take it.
But why should that matter? Jean’s not doing this for Eren, not entirely. This is to strictly fulfill his own selfish desires. When it’s his time to leave this world, he wants to feel at peace. No reluctance. No regrets. No stupid comrades with their stupid eyes and stupid lips flashing in his mind as his soul leaves his body, his final thought as he departs into the afterlife being, What if?
“This better be good.”
Eren’s voice stops him in his tracks. The porch creaks beneath his weight as he comes closer. He hovers over Jean, a deadpan expression cast over his infuriating features. This is all a big inconvenience for him.
“Do you want me to kick your ass again?” Jean asks.
Eren’s face doesn’t change. “I won that fight and you know it.”
“Hardly. The only punch that hurt was Levi’s.”
“Sure.”
Eren’s too in love with himself. Only a fool would believe that his strength can rival that of Captian Levi’s. Jean withstood punches from Eren in the mess hall for a solid twenty minutes, but a single blow to the gut from Levi was enough to have Jean curl on the ground in a fetal position. Not to mention his steak dinner from earlier that got newly acquainted with the cobblestone floor.
Compared to that, fighting Eren is like fighting a little kid.
Yes, Jean is the one who provoked him. But the bastard has been so depressed lately. Jean’s usual quips to rile him up no longer worked. It was annoying.
Until tonight. When Jean baited him at dinner, Eren took it without protest. An adrenaline inducing surprise. Their fists were out less than a minute later.
It was Jean’s first glimpse of the Eren he remembered in who knows how long. A proper sense of normalcy. The distraction he desperately needed from whatever awaits him tomorrow.
“What do you want, Jean?” Eren says. “We should be asleep.”
Jean’s too nervous to be offended. Eren never cared about curfew, especially the night before a big expedition. He just wants an excuse to get away from Jean. Prick.
“You’d actually be able to fall asleep tonight?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
Eren sighs, then sits beside him. The moonlight catches the small downturn of his mouth. It’s the same pout he wore when he fell asleep on Jean during an overnight exercise during their cadet days. That was three years ago, yet the innocence in current day Eren’s gaze is at an all time high.
“I don’t understand why this can’t wait until later.”
Of course he doesn’t understand. He never did.
“Don’t you get it?” Jean says. “There might not be a later. At least one of us will probably die tomorrow, Eren. And if we’re being realistic here, it’s not going to be you.”
He thought it’d be scarier to say out loud. Now that he has, Jean doesn’t feel much of anything. Pledging his loyalty to the Survey Corps always meant he was on borrowed time. The fact he’s made it this far is a miracle in itself.
But Jean’s not the type of guy who defies the odds for long. He’s not a titan shifter like Eren. He doesn’t possess overwhelming strength like Mikasa. He’s not smart like Armin. He’s just Jean. Nothing more, nothing less. And in a world this destructive, Jean Kirstein isn’t fit to be a hero.
This is likely his last day on earth. He’ll do his best to prevent that, but he’s also a realist. Death comes for everyone eventually. There’s no reason to stress over it. If it’s his time, so be it.
“You won’t die,” Eren says.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do.”
“Oh, get real, Eren. We both know how this works. I wasn’t even supposed to live this long. Most Scouts don’t.”
Eren spits between his legs, right into the grass. “Stop talking like that. You sound pathetic.”
Maybe he does. But if Jean is pathetic for stating the truth, then he’ll wear the label with honor.
“I can’t,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because if I’m gonna die—”
“You won't die,” Eren repeats.
“But if I am,” Jean insists, “I don’t want to do it without…”
He looks away. Doing this at nighttime was the right call. The fresh breeze from the evening air is the perfect remedy for his increasing anxiety.
Of all things, why does this have to be so hard?
Jean’s faced titans nearly ten times his size. Killed some of them. Even killed another human when the time called for it. Of course he was scared. He’s been scared since the day he joined the Survey Corps. But he pushed through his fears over and over again because deep in his heart, he knew it was the right thing to do.
This time, he’s just scared. Of how Eren will react. Of how the other Scouts will look at him if Eren inevitably blabs. Of how the thin strings holding Jean’s distressed heart together will snap if Eren gives him the answer he’s dreading.
When Eren gives him the answer he’s dreading.
“Without what?” Eren asks, tone dripping with confusion. He has no idea what’s coming.
Tingles prick into Jean’s cheeks like needles. He’s already thrown up once tonight, but he has the urge to do it again. No punch required. No touching at all, to be exact.
His right temple throbs. Eren’s drilling a hole into it with his eyes. Jean can’t blame him. This meeting was his idea. Before he loses Eren’s attention due to well deserved frustration, Jean needs to spit the words out.
“I need to tell you something.”
Eren allows a beat of silence, then says, “I’m listening.”
“Right. Um…”
Fuck. He should’ve practiced more.
“Off to a great start,” Eren teases.
Jean turns his way again. At the moment, irritation outweighs apprehension.
“Why do you have to be so damn annoying?” Jean snaps at him. “Can’t you just let me speak?”
Eren falls in line like he always does. One moment, he’s calm and showing a semblance of maturity. Next, he mirrors Jean’s attitude like they’re partners for an interpretive dance, one with very angry sounding music.
“I will once you remember how to speak in full sentences,” he says.
Jean grits his teeth. “You son of a—”
No. This isn’t going anywhere.
Jean asked Eren to meet him here for a specific reason, and it wasn’t to fight. He can’t lose focus. This may be the last conversation Jean ever has with Eren. He doesn’t want to waste it on things that don’t matter.
And right now, sitting alone on this porch, just Jean and the boy who’s forever changed his life whether he likes it or not, only one thing matters.
Jean breaks eye contact to stare out at the moon. Apprehension wins again.
“Fine,” he concedes. “I like you, okay?”
The words come out so softly that he’s uncertain Eren hears them. Especially since Eren doesn’t offer a response. Not even a shift in his seat that would prompt a creak from the porch step. He just sits beside Jean like a shadow under the blazing sun, quiet yet impossible to ignore.
Jean shuts his eyes. “It sounds so dumb to say out loud. But yeah, I like you. I have for a couple years now.”
This time he projects his voice. Eren definitely hears this one. Still, Eren’s silent. Probably doesn’t know what to say. But he’s not gagging in disgust, nor is he bolting back inside, so he can’t be opposed to hearing the rest.
“I know we fight,” Jean continues, tucking his chin into his chest, “and I know a lot of the time it’s my fault. But you just…I like you so much that it drives me crazy. I don’t know how to deal with it. And I don’t want to die before I have the chance to tell you. I thought you deserved to know.”
The words spill out a mile a minute. Each sentence he speaks, he fears it’s one sentence too much. His thoughts turn incoherent. His heartbeat quickens. Every insecurity he’s ever had rushes through his mind at once.
Confessions are meant to set you free, yet all Jean wants to do is crawl into a hole. An agonizing knot settles in his belly. He crosses his arms over it in case it’s visible through his linen top.
Why the fuck is he doing this? This isn’t fun. Jean doesn’t want to spend his potential last day on earth suffering a fate worse than hell.
Then again, he doesn’t want to spend it as a coward either.
It takes two full breaths to gain the confidence to open his eyes. Once he does, he turns to Eren before his anxiety talks him out of it.
Oh, right. That’s why he’s doing this.
Green eyes stare back at him, big, bright, and shrouded in a mystery Jean has yet to solve. He’s fallen prey to them years ago. Even when they’re filled with anger, Jean’s captivated by their beauty. As long as they’re focused on him.
The inside of Jean’s mouth tastes like cotton. He can’t get cold feet now. The hard part is already over. But with the contents of Jean’s heart spilled out all around them, finishing out his confession won’t be any easier.
And if Jean can’t finish with something easy, he may as well finish with something honest.
“I don’t want to die with you thinking I hate you.” Jean tells him. “I don’t. At all.”
It doesn’t go as smoothly as Jean hopes, but far better than he expects. He didn’t pass out or die of embarrassment, and neither of those were guarantees. The agony in his stomach has intensified since he opened his mouth, but that’s a minor setback.
And now here comes the part he’s been dreading: Eren’s answer.
Jean’s not stupid. He can’t fall for someone without learning the ins and outs of their character. When it comes to Eren, Jean likes to think he has a strong understanding of him. More than anyone else, if he’s being honest. And in the three years he’s known Eren, nothing about him indicates that he’s suited for romance or anything tied to it. He bets Eren still doesn’t know where babies come from.
“Eren?”
Eren’s expression doesn’t change. Wide eyes remain locked on Jean, refusing to blink. His lips part in surprise. Or is that terror?
Heat floods to Jean’s cheeks. “Say something.”
Silence.
Jean was wrong. Rejection isn’t the worst way Eren can react to his confession. Not responding at all tops that list without question. It’s like dangling a loaf of bread in front of a starving man just to take it away the moment he reaches for it. A false hope. Jean may have taken things too far during some past arguments with Eren, but he surely doesn’t deserve this level of torment.
“Was that…”
Eren’s voice is quiet. Weak. He sounds scared. As if he has any right to be. Jean’s the one who wants to cower and hide, shut himself in a dark room with his hands over his ears, blocking out the cruelties from the pain of first love.
They can’t both be scared. Someone has to step up. And since Jean took initiative by placing his heart in Eren’s hands, Eren can at least return the favor by offering his bravery.
Unlike Jean’s long and heavy breaths, Eren’s are short and light. He opens his mouth several times, never managing to get the words out. He must be figuring out how to let Jean down gently.
Great. The bastard pities him. That’s exactly how every guy wants to be perceived by their crush.
Death doesn’t sound so bad right now.
Then, Eren finally speaks. But if it’s a rejection Jean expects, he doesn’t get it.
“Was that supposed to be a secret?” Eren whispers.
Jean blinks twice. “Huh?”
He processes the question in his head. Then again. Then once more because it still doesn't sink in. Eren had the easiest job. Reciprocate or reject. That’s the natural response to a love confession. Eren was never the best at understanding social cues, but this is a new low. And of course it comes at the worst possible moment.
When it finally registers, horror washes over Jean in a similar vein as Eren’s.
“Eh?” he shrieks. “You mean you knew this whole time?”
“You made it so damn obvious, dumbass!”
“What? No I didn’t!”
Eren’s expression turns deadpan. “You can’t be serious. All you do is try to get my attention. You did it tonight.”
“I—”
That can’t be true. Jean doesn’t vie for Eren’s attention. Tonight was an exception.
Then again, Jean usually is the one who instigates their fights. And a rush of excitement surges through his bones whenever Eren retaliates.
It’s not Jean’s fault. He tries being nice to Eren, but Eren’s too wrapped up in his own doubts and worries to respond to anything other than hostility, at least from Jean. If hostility is what works, Jean will keep using it. He refuses to be seen as less than an equal. It may cost him his dignity, but if it gets Eren to notice him—
Crap. Jean is so fucking obvious.
“You think I didn’t realize you were trying to goad me into a fight?” Eren asks. “You looked so damn happy when I gave in. Bet you were even happier to have your hands all over me.”
Jean’s face hardens. “This is one big joke to you.”
“The fact that you thought you were being subtle is quite hilarious, yes.”
Bastard. Such a little shit wrapped in adorable packaging. Now Jean understands that phrase about love turning people into fools. Betrayed by his own heart. Of all the people he could’ve fallen for, this is the one he’s stuck with.
Jean clicks his tongue. “I can’t believe this. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done and you’re making fun of me.” He cups a clammy hand around his forehead. “I should’ve known you would fuck this up for me somehow. I never should’ve said anything.”
“You are so dramatic,” Eren says. “You should be thankful I already knew because your attempt at confessing your feelings was embarrassing.”
Wow. He’s just sticking the dagger in deeper and deeper.
Jean drops his hand. Caving into himself, he digs his nails into the edge of the wooden step.
“Tell me this, then. If you knew I liked you this entire time, why the hell haven’t you said anything before now?”
Eren lets out a frustrated sigh. “I thought that was obvious too! I thought we had a mutual understanding that we wouldn’t act on our feelings because we’re a bit preoccupied with fighting for our country and not dying!”
“Oh, so now you acknowledge the possibility of dying!”
Jean jumps to his feet. He moves in front of Eren, his shins grazing against Eren’s knees. Towering over him, a pang of guilt stabs at him. Jean can’t stay mad at that face, no matter how badly he wants to. Eren is too damn beautiful for his own good, especially when sporting that little pout.
But yelling at Eren is what Jean knows best. A love confession won’t change that dynamic so easily.
“Do you even hear the shit that comes out of your mouth?” he snaps at Eren. “You’re a walking contradiction. Or do you just do this on purpose to piss me off? Well good job, Eren, you’ve—”
He stops. Reflects. Replays the words Eren just told him.
“Wait,” he says, “mutual understanding?”
Eren stays silent. Seems this will be a common occurrence for the evening. Jean’s not used to quiet Eren, but he’ll accept the stubbornness if it means what Jean thinks this means.
He crouches down so he and Eren are at eye level. “Our feelings are mutual?”
Eren looks away. “Shut up.”
A boyish grin spreads across Jean’s face. Warm tingles prick the insides of his cheeks. “You like me?”
“Of course not,” Eren says. “You’re ugly.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
“Because you’re ugly.”
“Eren.”
Eren presses his lips in a tight line. Jean’s tempted to trace his thumb across them. He didn’t think he could want Eren more than he already does. But with his feelings being reciprocated, Jean wants to worship Eren inside and out.
He wants to play with Eren’s hair until he falls asleep. Wants to massage his shoulders when he’s stressed. Hold his hand when he’s scared. Kiss him from his neck to his fingertips when lips aren’t enough. Put Eren’s hand on his heart if Eren ever has doubts about how much Jean loves him.
But he can’t do that without Eren’s permission.
He keeps his tone gentle. He wants Eren to feel safe with him. The drastic shift may be too much too soon, but they’re on borrowed time.
“Do you like me? I may die tomorrow, so this is your last chance.”
Eren rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up,” he mumbles. “Yes, horseface. I like you.” When he meets Jean’s gaze again he adds, “Stop smiling.”
“I can’t.”
“Well you should. You look constipated.”
“That’s fine.”
“And you have huge horse teeth.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. And you smell like hay. There’s even some in your hair.”
“I’ll get it out later.”
“What’s wrong with you? Fight back.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Jean seals his lips over Eren’s. He has no clue about technique, whether to kiss him harder or softer. Nerves talk him out of placing his hand on top of Eren’s. Instead, he grips the porch step on either side of Eren.
If he weren’t already positive he’s in love with Eren, this kiss confirms it. The euphoric flutters in his heart force the corners of his mouth upward. After all the hurt and loss he’s suffered since joining the military, this level of happiness feels unearned. Good things don’t happen to Jean, not in this world.
Except sometimes they do. And when they do, it’s beautiful.
Eren tenses against him, so Jean pulls away. A soft gasp leaves his even softer lips. He watches Jean in a daze, eyes half open and in disbelief.
“What the fuck?” he chokes out.
“What?”
Eren clutches a shaky hand around his shirt, right where his heart is. “You just…you kissed me.”
Jean nods. “That’s typically what people do when they like each other.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” Jean says. “Biology?”
“No, I mean why’d you kiss me?”
Jean shrugs. “You looked cute.”
Understatement of the century.
Eren scowls. “You suck.”
“How?”
“That was my first kiss and I wasn’t even prepared for it,” Eren says, raising his voice. “You ruined it.”
“More like I just made your night,” Jean teases.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“And you’re not?”
Eren tackles him to the ground. They wrestle in the grass, catching blades in their hair. It’s the most unbalanced fight they’ve ever had. One is giving their everything while the other doesn’t try at all.
Jean beams as he lands on his back, Eren rolling on top of him. He’s respectful, so he doesn’t grab Eren’s sides, but he certainly doesn’t feel like the loser in this position.
Eren leans over him, clothes and hair disheveled. A repeat of their encounter hours before, but so much has changed between them. Even if it’s just for tonight, Jean considers himself the luckiest person in Eldia.
Green eyes on him and only him. Tender hands gripping his biceps with no intention of letting go.
And then, to his relief, lips slamming against his with enough desperation to shut his brain off.
Eren curls his body into Jean’s. Jean slips his hands behind Eren’s back, hugging him tightly. They roll onto their sides, lips connected and limbs intertwined. They don’t find their rhythm right away, but that doesn’t stop them.
Jean’s easy to please. Kissing Eren at all feels amazing enough. But his heartbeat slows when the kiss turns gentle. He can tell Eren feels the same way when he cups Jean’s neck. They work as a team, an equal balance of give and take. An unspoken I love you transfers between their mouths, their touches soft as whispers.
Love.
Jean is so in love.
It’s scary, but also calming. As long as Eren is willing to share his heart with him, Jean will treasure and protect it. And he fully intends on doing the same. If the way Eren’s kissing him is any indication, Jean’s heart is in good hands.
They part to catch their breaths. Jean glides his fingers along Eren’s back, just to ensure this isn’t a dream. Eren’s body is solid. His skin is warm through his shirt.
But most of all, his eyes possess a sweetness that Jean’s never seen. It’s admiration. Devotion. An image too gorgeous for even the best of dreams.
This is real. And it’s incredible.
Eren leans his forehead against Jean’s, then drops his voice. “Don’t die tomorrow. Please.”
As soon as the request leaves his lips, Jean’s future is set.
He strokes his thumb along Eren’s cheek. “I won’t,” he whispers back. “I promise.”