Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1026508.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Jean_Kirstein/Eren_Yeager
  Character:
      Jean_Kirstein, Eren_Yeager
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-01 Words: 1837
****** rough and cautious ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     idiot boys can't stop arguing even when they're jerking each other
     off.
Notes
     For my beloved friend/RP partner, Shinn. Happy very late birthday!
     <333
     Shoutout to highviscosity for giving me the idea, bless her.
There comes a time in every man’s life when he is issued a challenge he simply
can’t refuse. Perhaps it’s a matter of honor, or perhaps it calls the man’s
character in question. Maybe it’s just a stubborn refusal to be proven wrong.
Whatever the reason, backing down is not an option no matter how – questionable
– the challenge.
This is one of those times.
                                       *
It had started at breakfast, with Jean whispering something in Eren’s ear that
had his nape prickling and his face red with anger.
“I do not!” / “You do so!” and so on and so forth until it almost comes to
blows, and Marco steps between them.
It would’ve ended there – it should’ve ended there – but Eren has pride in
himself and can’t let the matter rest. When he approaches Jean alone later that
day, he doesn’t expect Jean to take him seriously (later, in between training,
Armin will scold him because that’s what you get when you say stupid things,
Eren) but Jean does take him seriously, and one thing leads to another until
it’s far too late for Eren to step down. He can’t lose face in front of Jean,
after all.
Which is how Eren ended up sitting on Jean’s bunk with his pants and underwear
long forsaken, one hand on his cock.
“Stop staring at me,” Eren complains, but Jean just smirks and scoots forward,
until their foreheads are nearly touching.
“What’s the matter Eren? You the kinda guy who can’t perform under pressure?”
Jean has no right to sound so composed when his face is flushed and he’s got a
hand wrapped around his cock. Eren scowls at him as best he can given the
circumstances. This is perhaps the worst idea Eren’s ever had, but fuck if
Eren’s going to give in first.
“Shut up.”
The rule had been no touching, but Jean’s close enough that Eren can feel his
breathing and it has Eren’s lips tingling almost painfully with the need to
kiss and be kissed. He licks his lips and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the
shuddery sound of Jean’s breathing.
“I’m surprised I’ve even managed to stay hard this long,” Eren snaps instead,
and if his voice is a little rough, well, it’s not like Jean’s paying enough
attention to notice.
“Maybe you’re kinda gay for me Jaeger. This was your idea, after all.”
“You agreed to it,” Eren bites back, curling his wrist and jerking it along his
cock.
“You should be glad I did. You’re so bad at this, it’s incredible. Someone
needs to give you tips or something, goddamn.”
Eren’s eyes blink open at that and he’s treated to an eyeful of Jean. Jean with
a hand splayed on his abdomen, shirt rucked up, hair mussed and lips shiny with
spit. He looks ridiculous, so obviously putting on a show. Eren kind of wants
to shove him off the bed; instead he forces a laugh, to which Jean rolls his
eyes.
“How am I bad? I’m hard, aren’t I?”
“There’s getting off and then there’s getting off. Idiot.”
“Do you really think now’s the best time to brag?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll still beat your ass,” Jean drawls. Eren watches as Jean’s
hand climbs his chest, fingers circling a nipple. He shouldn’t take it as a
challenge but he does and the look on Jean’s face when he realizes Eren’s
taking his shirt off is priceless.
“Bring it on Kirschstein,” Eren says, and knowing Jean is watching him, drags a
hand up to his nipple and pinches. “Ow, what the fuck!”
“Don’t do it so hard, dumbass.”
“Well how was I supposed to know?”
“You’ve really never done this before?” Jean actually stops to blink at him,
completely mystified, and Eren feels his face burn.
“So I don’t do anything fancy. Who gives a shit?”
There’s a beat of silence where they appraise each other. Jean’s flush is
creeping down his neck, and Eren’s throat is dry. He can feel himself starting
to get soft; Jean’s staring at him with more intensity than Eren’s ever seen
him look at something before, and quite frankly, it’s freaking him out.
“New bet,” Jean says, and then he’s getting up into Eren’s personal space,
close enough that Eren’s heart is hammering. “I bet I can make you come first,”
he says, and before Eren can even process what just happened, Jean’s mouth is
on his.
Eren’s hands fly to Jean’s shoulders with the intent of pushing him away, but
one hand finds its way to the back of Jean’s neck, drawing him closer instead.
Jean growls against his lips and nips; Eren opens his mouth to complain, and
Jean promptly shoves his tongue into Eren’s mouth.
It feels good, far better than Jean’s tongue has any right to, and Eren’s
definitely hard again. Jean’s thigh is pressing against his dick, and it’s
sheer willpower that keeps Eren from grinding against it. They haven’t even
started yet, not really, but at this rate Jean’s going to win, and Eren can’t
let that happen.
Eren runs his hands down Jean’s sides, nails raking a rough path down to his
hips. Jean jerks lightly beneath him. It’s the first time Eren’s touched
someone in an intimate way before, and the first time anyone’s ever reacted to
his touch in such a visceral way. Eren pulls away to assess the situation and
Jean–
Eren’s moving forward before he can really stop himself, mouth meeting Jean’s
in a flurry of teeth and lips. Jean curses at him under his breath, but his
hands are tracing the bumps of Eren’s vertebrae, touch light and teasing and
wholly arousing.
Again, Eren’s the first to pull away, but then he’s attaching his lips to
Jean’s jawline, sucking hard.
“Fuck,” Jean breathes, one hand coming to rest on Eren’s scalp. Bolstered by
Jean’s reaction, Eren continues, kissing sloppy lines down Jean’s neck and
collarbone. Jean’s running his fingers across Eren’s sides and up to his chest;
he pinches a nipple with nowhere near as much force as Eren had done, and Eren
makes a keening whimper in the back of his throat.
“Told you,” Jean murmurs and then he’s dribbling saliva onto the palm of his
hand.
Eren’s breath hitches in his throat when Jean wraps a hand around his dick. He
strokes it once, testing, and Eren has to clap a hand over his mouth to keep
from crying out.
“Feel good?” Jean asks with a surprising amount of sincerity, voice rough. Eren
nods. It’s a bit looser than he normally does it, a bit slower, but Jean’s
hands are bigger than Eren’s with calluses in different places and he drags his
thumb over the crown, smearing the liquid gathered there, and Eren’s hips buck
almost involuntarily.
He tries to imitate Jean, spitting messily into the palm of his hand. His touch
is tentative; the last thing he wants to do is to fuck up somehow. This whole
thing is so weirdly surreal. It feels as though one wrong step will shatter it,
and Eren, loathe as he is to admit it, does not want Jean to stop touching him.
His first jerk is maybe a bit too soft, but the second time around he does it a
little harder, and Jean rocks into his hand. Third time around has Eren swiping
his thumb – awkwardly but successfully – across the tip, and Jean groans, hips
canting forward as if by their own volition.
“Feel good?” Eren asks with every intent of rubbing Jean’s embarrassing
reaction in his face. But Jean doesn’t let Eren goad him; his head tips back
and he whimpers out a yeah in a voice that’s breathless.
The fact that it’s him doing this to Jean, that Jean sounds wrecked because of
him, that Jean’s lips are swollen because of him, that Jean’s cock is hard
because of him and what he’s doing – what they’re doing – has something
thrumming through Eren. He wonders, in between lazy jerks of Jean’s cock, if
Jean had somehow been wanting this, waiting for a way to goad Eren into
touching him.
That almost seems like an idiotic conclusion to come to, more arrogant than
Eren would like, but Jean’s looking at him almost desperately and Eren’s
feeling inspired.
When Jean leans in to kiss him again, Eren tugs him back by the hair. He has no
idea what he’s doing, honestly, heart pounding like he’s just jumped off a
ledge of some sort, but Jean whimpers and Eren figures he’s on the right track.
Keeping him steady, Eren leans closer until his breath is mingling with Jean’s.
Jean licks his lips and Eren knows that Jean’s lips are tingling the way Eren’s
were earlier.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” Eren asks, making sure to pitch his voice low.
He’s barely even jerking Jean off anymore, but Jean’s still painfully hard in
his hand.
“Jean?”
There’s a beat of silence, but Eren doesn’t back down from it, not with the way
Jean’s shifting his hips, breathing uneven.
“Yes, I want you to kiss me, fuck Eren,” and Eren does.
Jean’s grip on Eren is stuttering, clearly distracted and Eren knows he has to
be close. Eren worries at the flesh of Jean’s throat with his teeth, fully
intending to leave a mark and with one final hiss of Eren, Jean’s coming in his
hand.
“Ew.”
“Shut up,” Jean grumbles, and as Eren wipes a hand on Jean’s shirt, Jean
catches him by the wrist and they go down in a tangle of limbs.
“Let me,” Jean’s saying, and then his hand is wrapping around Eren’s cock
again. It doesn’t take much for Eren, not after this, and he comes with a gasp
into Jean’s hand and onto his stomach. Jean wipes his hand on Eren’s thigh
which is pretty gross, but Eren’s too preoccupied with post-orgasm haze to
really mind.
“You lost, you know,” Eren says some time later, staring up at the bunk above
Jean’s. His limbs feel heavy, eyelids drooping; he knows he should get dressed,
but the effort doesn’t seem worth the reward.
“Yeah, so what?”
“So you lost. We had a bet. You owe me.”
The tension in the room is palpable. Jean stops rummaging for his underwear,
back ramrod straight, not facing Eren.
“I owe you, huh?”
“That’s right,” Eren says with the same reckless abandon that had propelled him
forward earlier, “You owe me a blowjob.”
Jean sputters at that, but the back of his neck is red when Eren turns to look
at him.
“Only if you return the favor,” Jean mumbles finally, still staring at the
wall.
That’s not how bets work. That’s not how bets work at all. Eren opens his mouth
to say so, and then stops himself. Stops himself and thinks, really thinks –
about what just happened, about Jean, about Jean standing in front of him
blushing, and reconsiders–
“Okay.”
In front of him, Jean’s shoulders begin to relax almost imperceptibly.
“Okay.”
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