Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/4915222. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan Relationship: Jean_Kirstein/Eren_Yeager, Jean_Kirstein_&_Eren_Yeager Character: Eren_Yeager, Jean_Kirstein Additional Tags: Alternate_Universe, Alternate_Reality, Smut, i_apologise_in_advance, a little_nsfw, i'm_literally_just_writing_these_cause_I_love_the_losers Series: Part 1 of You_Know_It_Will_Always_Just_Be_Me_(EreJean_One_Shots) Stats: Published: 2015-10-02 Words: 2684 ****** Above the Clouds and the Atmosphere ****** by CatcherOfFictionalDreams Summary Jean had never thought a flight would be so full of surprises... Strange brunettes, help in private matters, and a little romantic and intimate action above the clouds. Notes Greetings! I got the idea to write this particular one shot while I myself was on a plane a short while ago. It was also influenced by the lyrics in the song Rocketeer (hence the use of them as this chapter's title). Please enjoy this (hopefully) pleasing snapshot of Eren and Jean. See the end of the work for more notes Jean always loved planes; the feeling of your ears popping at a high altitude, the flight meals, and of course the introductory videos. But this flight would be even better. Except for one aspect: he'd be sitting next to a total stranger. That was always the ultimate disadvantage of travelling alone. Sometimes Jean would get lucky and be next to another asocial human. But other times, it was like torture. Little old ladies and middle aged people who'd try to spark a conversation with him and keep it going for the whole fucking flight. These are the ideas that haunt his nights. Caffeine was always the best way to calm Jean's nerves, hence why he'd ended up with a warm plastic cup in his hands filled to the brim with espresso and steamed milk. First grimacing as the boiling liquid travelled down his throat, he found it calming to his rapidly beating heart. Jean now always kept a few sleeping pills at hand to make the flight seem less arduous. So technically, if he was seated beside a talkative widow, he'd just casually swallow a few pills and float off to the dream land. Whilst absorbed in his caffeinated thoughts, Jean felt himself collide with some kind of hard object. His flat white flew forth from his lazy grip, causing it to drench the individual directly in his way. As Jean's shaky gaze levitated, he met a pair of flaring green eyes. He felt like the duo of peepers could just burn a hole into his soul and send his gay ass to the heavens, or the flaming pit awaiting said ass in hell. "What the hell?!" Inside voices were clearly nonexistent to this guy, because Jean swore he could see the coffee-drenched man's brown hair flop up and down with his protest. "If you meant to inquire what hell is, I can inform you as required," Jean tried for the cocky approach, trying to tell the brunette to calm the fuck down. "Whatever man, I've got a plane to catch," the brunette initiated in turning away, but Jean didn't allow that; not yet, at least. "Pretty sure you're like everyone else, sunshine." Not bothering to hang around for a glare or snarl of some kind, Jean skipped into a jog, carefully angling himself so that his sweatshirt grazed against the material of the stranger's plaid button down. His desired boarding gate was almost on the complete opposite side of the airport, which wistfully required a whole lot of walking. Jean was never one to brag, but he had some kickass leg muscles which startled him daily that he was still homosexually single. After finally making it to the gate with minutes to spare, Jean collapsed onto one of the supplied grossly leather black seats. Knowing he would be sitting down for about ten hours, Jean grudgingly arose and paced in front of the gate entrance about fifty times. Finally, the announcement was made that those boarding flight HA827 to Honolulu should pay attention and board when their zone was announced. Being an able traveller in zone three, Jean was confident that a little more pacing wouldn't make him miss his chance to board. "We are now ready for those in zones three through one to board flight HA827 to Honolulu." Finally! Collecting his luggage of a carry on backpack, Jean gradually edged closer to the gate. Passport in hand, he started rapping it against his denim-clad thigh. The tune was to his favourite song of all time - Ed Sheeran's Thinking Out Loud. Jean struggled to refrain from belting out the lyrics, so he ended up being forced to bite his lip. "May I see your boarding pass, sir?" A slender woman held her hand towards Jean, silently nodding towards his hand. Jean tried to quickly slip said boarding pass from the pages of his passport, to no avail. Trying for a quick grin in the waiting woman's direction, Jean continued to struggle with the boarding pass. Whilst looking into the woman's eyes, he saw they were a dazzling green, almost like the idiot brunette's eyes. "Sir?" Her eyes filled with both concern and annoyance; after all, Jean was managing to hold up a lot of people just wanting to get to their seats. With an unnecessary barely audible grunt, Jean tugged the patterned boarding pass free from the passport's control. With an elegant bow, Jean slid his passport before him and into the awaiting fingers. Jean had always seen himself as normal, but everyone else thought he was some posh motherfucker. Occasionally, he'd try to fit that description, and so here he was, clad in a maroon sweatshirt and ripped denim jeans, showing off his inner posh boy. "Have a nice flight, sir," she replied nonchalantly, clearly not satisfied with Jean's Oscar-worthy act. Shrugging it off, Jean started to head down through the tunnel to board his flight to Hawai'i. Suddenly, he heard a familiar (yet strange) voice behind him, causing Jean to swerve on the soles of his faded charcoal Chuck Taylor's. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," Jean murmured, eyes rolling at the sight before him. Mister I've-got-a-plane-to-catch had really been short for time. Why? To catch the flight departing for Honolulu in just a dozen or so minutes, of course. The whiny, angry brunette was catching the same fucking flight as Jean. - "Whoops, excuse me," a humble voice carried down the aisle as its owner edged closer and closer to Jean. Finally, the projector of this delightful voice (even Jean had to admit his voice was too cute for such a weirdo) planted his Doc Marten clad feet safely beside Jean. "No fucking way!" Forest eyes widened in surprise at Jean's presence. "Well, Mister Klutz, it seems we get to spend a joyous ten fucking hours together..." Jean's new acquaintance (again, he had to have a fancy vocabulary even when he wanted to throttle this jerk) sat directly beside him at the window seat, meaning Jean, in his aisle seat, had to move out of the coffee-stained boy's way so he could be seated. Jean pleaded himself to zone out the male beside him, and quickly please and thank you. Even after a few minutes closer to him than Jean was usually comfortable with, Jean was starting to appreciate the splendour of this stranger's physique and physical features. Like the way his hair looked way cuter when it was ruffled, compared to when he hastily tried to flatten it down. Forest eyes pierced into the screen ahead of him as the in-flight safety video begun, although Jean couldn't pay attention as he was too transfixed by his strange new familiar. Biceps were clear, even through the material of his shirt as he flexed, trying to find a comfortable position in the chair. No matter, Jean would just have to focus on some form of distraction from the boy. As he searched through the selection of TV shows on his own screen, Jean tried desperately to think of a plan. - Well, shit. Jean had ended up neglecting his screen after a second or two, as his next seat neighbour (who had introduced himself as Eren) wanted to be all chatty chatty. Floods of questions erupted forth from his dry lips as they came to mind. What was Jean's job? Jean had sheepishly admitted to being a volunteer for his local RSPCA. How old was Jean (this was apparently to make sure he wasn't a pervert)? Chuckling, Jean had offered the information of being just out of school at the ripe age of nineteen. Why was Jean even going to Hawai'i? Jean's parents were owners of a Kona coffee plantation (Kirstein Kona Coffee) on the Big Island, and he loved to visit the plantation (but not his parents). Was Jean religious? Trying for a laugh from Eren, Jean replied that he wasn't, but he was always available to attend any satanic rituals. What even was the colour of Jean's backpack? Offended, Jean proceeded to explain the beauty of burgundy followed by the efficiency of his bag. Eren then ran out of questions, letting the duo settle into an adequate silence. Shortly after, while Jean was absorbed in noting down new shows and movies he hadn't seen, Eren made an out of the blue erotic noise. Jean flinched, briefly glancing to his left. He'd seen Eren occasionally giving his sidelong stares over the past several minutes, and now he felt warm inside. What if Jean was the cause of Eren making these little noises? "Eren?" Jean hissed, leaning in to speak directly near Eren's ear. From the angle he was now resting at, Jean noticed Eren's reason for the squeak - a very noticeable boner. Feeling a burst of confidence, Jean let his horny mind speak for him. "Can I help?" Eren looked desperately at Jean. "Asshole, this is your fault." Feigning shock, Jean countered with, "Let me make up for my terrible sin." "Y-you're gay?" "As the Fourth of July," Jean explained, hands spread out in a helpless gesture. "Are you sure?" Eren looked anxious, eyes darting around the cabin. "About my homosexuality? Yes. About wanting to help you? Abso-fucking-lutely." Jean tried to comfort Eren. After a grudging stare-off, Eren sighed, gesturing to the obvious erection. "Go ahead, I guess." Nodding, Jean unfastened Eren's tray, obscuring the view of other passengers, as well as the flight attendants. Breathing evenly, Jean clumsily unbuckled the belt on Eren's baggy jeans. Shortly after that, he felt his own dick begin to become hard as a diamond in an ice storm. Eren's eyes filled his sympathy, the brunette gently lifted Jean's tray down for him, concealing his growing bulge. "I'm prepared to pay back the favour, Jean," Eren whispered huskily, his breath catching in his struggle. "I don't bide well with help from others, thank you very much." Jean's left hand (good thing he was a typical sinner with his dominant hand being his left) glided beneath the surface of Eren's jeans, as well as the layer beneath - his dark blue boxers. Gently, Jean wrapped his hand around Eren's erectile penis, already earning a petite moan to escape from Eren's now wet lips. He'd licked them repeatedly as the process began, obviously out of habit. Slowly sliding his dry hand up and down Eren's dick, he realised he had to change a small factor. For his own pleasure, Jean removed his hand and, making sure Eren was watching, seductively let his own tongue cover the surface area of his palm, leaving it lubricated. Eren seemed to plead Jean to end this torture, guiding Jean's hand back underneath his jeans. "Don't be a fucking jerk, Kirstein," he whimpered, sounding pissed off and yet vulnerable. Basking in the look of need on Eren's face, Jean gradually worked his hand along Eren's dick, taking his own sweet time. Squeezing the length at random intervals, Jean found he desperately wanted to get on his knees to lick and suck on Eren until his gay little heart gave out. Jean decided to take a new approach, twirling the hard stick in his grasp over multiple times. Eren's back suddenly arched, taking control of the situation to receive more pressure. Tutting him like a child, Jean gently cupped Eren's balls, letting that brain of his know that Jean was in charge of Eren. An idea emerged into Jean's brain, and he clumsily unbuckled his seatbelt with his right hand, keeping his left hand in motion if only to hear Eren's little gasps and whimpers. Rising to lean across Eren, Jean lifted the tray slightly, allowing his erection to rub against Eren's a few times. This was too much for the both of them, and Eren went into a frenzy, thrusting his hips in the same rhythm making it clear he wanted to cum, now. Whispering in Eren's ear, Jean presented his plan of action. Sinking into his seat, forehead coated with beads of sweat, Eren agreed. Sneakily, the duo managed to bundle themselves into one of the available toilets. Jean took control, his lips connecting to Eren's in a short immature battle that small towns would declare. It was fierce, but also fumbled and rushed. Eren had tried to hide his boner as best as he could while they made their way to the lavatory, following Jean and praying silently. Tongues roamed mouths, exploring every nook and cranny, and opening both of the boy's ears to new intimate sounds they'd both had (wet) dreams about. Eren's little moans continued to harden Jean's genitalia; while Jean's growling left Eren lost in this new sound. Leaving a little love bite on the side of Eren's neck, Jean slid his way down Eren's body, reopening the gates that were Eren's pants to reveal the bliss of his dick. Since they had the privacy to do so, the two males stripped themselves of their pants, giving easier access. Jean knelt before the brunette boy he'd met approximately four hours ago (where had the time gone?) and coiled his fingers around the erect member that reminded him of a microphone. Except he knew the sound wouldn't be coming from there, it would be flowing out of Eren's lips. Using his tongue once more, Jean moistened the entirety of Eren's penis, starting and ending at its tip. His lips found their beginning at the tip, licking it again as well as sucking it lightly. Eren ran an erotic commentary made of moans and whimpers as Jean moved his lips further down, getting ever closer to Eren's balls. Figuring Eren was close to releasing his liquids, Jean tried to get everywhere, caressing Eren's balls and finishing with what he hoped would send Eren into a song of lust. Once Jean had arrived at the end of Eren's dick, he moved his lips up and down slowly at first, letting his neck move his head faster and faster, bobbing his head and getting it to touch the back of his throat. Eren seemed to be joining a choir, letting random notes escape his throat, his fingers tangling themselves in the nest of Jean's hair and encouraging his head. After what seemed to Jean like forever, and to Eren not long enough, Eren ended his serenade with a long moan as semen shot forth from the end of his penis. Jean knew those in the cabin could hear, and he felt the need to re-enter and bow, offering his services to all the horny men out there, but he couldn't. And so, with Eren just behind him, he sauntered out of the toilet after calming down and cleaning both him and Eren up. Breathing became more controlled, and the two sinners made their way to their seats. Ever the gentleman, Jean stood aside, gesturing for his lover to be seated. Winking as Eren went past, Jean too slid into his seat and fastened his seat belt. Minutes later, flight attendants rolled trolleys down the aisles, bringing offers of tea or coffee. Eren spoke up before Jean could, asking for a coffee. Eren seemed to be so uncertain about coffee that Jean almost wanted to laugh. Perhaps he'd unnerved the boy by bringing his gay out into the open? Eren turned to Jean with an odd look in his eyes. Jean chuckled and patted Eren on his soft hair. "You did well, little trainee," Jean smirked at Eren, and casually reached his left hand across to stroke the area in which Eren's penis was hidden. Innocently smiling, Eren nodded, getting closer to Jean. Jean leaned in, thinking Eren was about to give him a little peck on the cheek. However, Eren just brought his lips to Jean's ear and whispered the words: "This is called payback, you dirty little homo." And with that, stinging hot liquid was poured onto Jean's crotch, with a little kiss like Jean had expected, followed by Eren's hand slipping under Jean's waistband. Jean could already feel his pre-cum (as well as the already fading pain), and he closed his eyes, not wanting the flight to ever end. End Notes Mahalo (there's a little Hawaiian for you all) for reading! Now I know my writing isn't a godsend, so please leave me some feedback as to how I can improve my ways of EreJean writing! Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!