Author's Note: My written piece for the Jearmin Reverse Bang event on Tumblr. Be sure to check out the amazingly adorably piece of fanart to accompany this piece by that-one-guy-in-naruto (the link for which you will find on my profile). Enjoy, dearies!
Anyone who knew Jean at all knew that, among the many things that made up his personality, being a morning person was not one of them. He hated waking up to the sun shining in his sensitive eyes- because someone had forgotten to close the curtains last night, damn it- and summoning the beginnings of a headache in his temples. He hated the blare and rattle of the alarm from his phone next to his bed, and the fact that his muscles were still far too tired to lift his arm to shut the thing off. He hated that, no, he couldn't just simply roll over and go back to sleep, no matter how much he wanted to, because he was what you would call an 'adult' and he had a job to get to. To make money. To pay the bills. And stuff.
God, he hated mornings.
With a tired groan, he finally gathered the energy to swat at his phone just before it vibrated itself off the bedside table, effectively shutting off the alarm's annoying wail. It took him a few tries- because damn it, it was too early in the morning and coordination might as well have been a freaking superpower- but his hand finally slapped over the device and, when it did, his phone very nearly tumbled merrily to the floor. Jean heaved a small sigh of relief. Thank God for the little things.
Rolling clumsily out of bed, he stretched his arms languidly above his head, groaning a bit at the satisfying pops of his muscles unwinding and causing the deep blue sweatpants he had worn to bed to ride a little lower on his hips. Preoccupied with the grumbling of his stomach- though really, it was just pure laziness- he forwent making his bed in his search for sustenance, and ambled sluggishly towards the kitchen. He knew full well he was probably going to get scolded for that later, but he figured he'd weather that storm when it came. On his way, he hardly spared glance at the perfectly tidy side of the bed where his boyfriend of 2 years, Armin, had slept not hours before, knowing that he would already be up and ready to greet the day. How anyone could rise so early in the morning and still be functional was beyond him, but Armin managed to do it on a daily basis, and not because he was required to do it, since Armin's college classes weren't until later in the day. Armin preferred to wake before the sun because, and quote, "Mornings left him feeling refreshed and relaxed". As if there was anything at all relaxing about waking up at the crack of dawn, but that was Jean's opinion.
It was as he was starting down the stairs that lead towards the living room and kitchen areas that Jean heard the first faint strains of music playing, and as he got closer and the music drew nearer, he also picked up the soft, serene tones of Armin singing along. The song he didn't recognize, but his chest grew warm all the same as a smile lit up his face. His boyfriend didn't sing often- he was terribly self-conscious about it, though for the life of him Jean couldn't understand why- but when he did….Jean simply didn't have the words to describe it. If, he thinks, angels could sing, they would sound exactly like that. There was just no sound in this world that could be more beautiful. And maybe he could be a little biased, but he honestly didn't care.
He made his way down the rest of the stairs as quietly as he could, pausing on the last step as his eyes landed on Armin's beautifully peaceful face, his form dwarfed slightly by the seafoam green cloth of what Jean knew to be his shirt. Armin didn't notice his boyfriend's presence in the room, too engrossed was he in the book he was reading, but Jean was in no rush to interrupt his quiet moment. He was all too content in simply watching Armin read from a book of some kind- undoubtedly something pertaining to one of the classes he was taking, because Armin seemed to thrive off of studying- and idly humming along to the cheerful chords of the song playing through the speakers of the old radio sitting on the little table in front of him. That radio, Jean remembered, was a keepsake of Armin's grandfather, given to him when he was a boy the summer before the man died of a heart attack. Armin loved that radio and listened to it almost constantly when he was home, be it when he was cooking, cleaning, or simply relaxing on a lazy day.
It was when the song finally faded and the happy voice of the station's DJ started up in its place that Jean decided to move from his place on the staircase, making his way quietly towards where Armin sat on the plush cushions of the couch, his nose still buried in the book. It was as if he was in his own little world, eyes fixed on the messy scrawl of what Jean now knew to be a journal and responding to the new presence in his general vicinity with a mere turn of the page. Jean huffed with exasperated fondness, a small trace of that smile still on his face and glowing in his eyes, and leaned down to run his fingers through Armin's soft blond locks, placing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. The tiny body under his hand jumped only slightly, and wide blue eyes turned up to him in surprise before crinkling in a small smile that made Jean's heart leap, just as it did every time that shining smile was directed at him.
"Good morning," Armin said, closing the journal so as to give Jean his undivided attention. "Sleep well?"
"Oh, yeah. How could I not sleep well with such an adorably comfortable pillow?" Jean said with a smirk.
Armin rolled his eyes. "You mean how you snored on me?"
"I do not snore," Jean said for what felt like the hundredth time since they moved in together.
"Yes," Armin said, fixing him with an unimpressed look, "you do. Trust me, I've had plenty of time to notice."
"Whatever. I know you love it when we cuddle."
"Sure, just like someone would love to be cuddled by a hibernating bear."
Jean laughed, ruffling Armin's hair and causing him to pout cutely. Only Armin could liken Jean to a sleepy bear and cause him to smile like this.
It was at that point that a song they were both very familiar with started playing on the radio, and Jean's smile turned absolutely blinding. "Hey, 'Min, remember this song?"
Armin scoffed, though Jean couldn't deny that he saw just the barest hint of a smile hiding on the blond's face. "How could I forget? You blasted this song for hours outside the house I shared with Eren and Mikasa on the morning of our one year anniversary and Eren almost beat you to death. I'm still surprised the cops never showed up."
"It was worth it because I got a dance out of you in the end," Jean said, hiding a grin in Armin's hair. "I still remember how beautiful you looked."
"I was in my pajamas with the worst bed head," Armin reminded, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. "And I'm pretty sure I kept stepping on your feet."
"It was still one of the best days of my life," Jean assured, resting his his hand over Armin's heart and swaying to the gentle rhythm of the song. Emboldened, Jean grasped one of Armin's thin wrists and tugged gently. "C'mon, Armin, dance with me."
Armin raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for work?"
"One dance isn't going to kill me, 'Min," Jean reasoned, putting on his best puppy dog face.
Armin rolled his eyes, exasperated, as Jean managed to pull him from the couch. Grabbing his notebook, he gently placed it down on the table next to the radio and turned in Jean's arms, twining his arms around his boyfriend's neck. "Alright, one dance. But don't blame me if I just step on your feet again."
Jean grasped one of Armin's hands and laced their fingers together, placing his other hand on Armin's slender waist and swaying their bodies gently in place. "You know I don't care about that, Armin. You could step on my feet a hundred times and I would still want to dance with you."
Armin chuckled, tucking his head into the crook of Jean's neck to hide his smile. "Ever the romantic, aren't you?"
Jean smirked and shook his head, closing his eyes as they lost themselves to the gentle sway of their bodies moving together. It was when the final chorus of the song rolled around that Jean lowered his mouth to Armin's ear, and later he would agree that this would probably be one of the stupider things he'd done in his life, but at the moment he didn't care.
"You are," he sang softly, in perfect time with the song playing throughout the room, "the best thing in my life. So thankful that you're mine."
And Armin just burst out into an uncontrollable fit of giggles because Jean knew he was absolutely terrible at singing, but the smile on both of their faces made it worth it.
"Wow, thanks for that," Jean said wryly, running his fingers through Armin's hair. "Really know how to stroke a guy's ego, don't you?"
Armin shook his head, placing a chaste kiss to the side of Jean's neck as his giggles subsided. "I couldn't help it. You're just such a dork sometimes."
"You love it, though,"
Armin hummed. "I do."
The song had long since been replaced by another song with a faster pace that neither of them knew, but still they continued to sway in place, as if to a rhythm only they knew. A distant part of Jean wished that this could last forever, that he could keep Armin in his arms and forever be lost to the dance.
And then Armin stepped on his foot.
They both stumbled, and Armin laughed apologetically. "Sorry! I'm sorry, but I told you I would just step on your feet."
Jean shrugged, flexing his toes to stretch the muscles in his abused foot. "It's no big deal, it didn't even hurt." Which was a bit of a lie, since his foot was a tad sore, but Armin didn't need to know that.
"Well," Armin said, walking over to the radio to turn it off and pick up his journal again. "You need to hurry if you don't want to be late for work, and I still have to get some more studying in for a test I have today."
But Jean wasn't listening at that point, too distracted by the slight sway of Armin's hips as he made his way back to the couch and the long expanse leg he could see under the fabric of the tiny shorts he was wearing. A near-predatory grin took over Jean's face as he stalked silently behind his boyfriend, wrapping his arms loosely around Armin's waist and licking the shell of Armin's ear.
"Or," he purred, and he delighted in the shiver that wracked Armin's body, "we could do something much more interesting with our time."
"No, Jean," Armin said sternly, and Jean knew that there would be a scolding glare on his face without having to see it. "You have work, and I have to study for classes. That can come later."
Jean pouted. "But I need you now, baby," he whined, sounding a bit pathetic even to his own ears.
"What you need is to get off me so I can get some studying done."
"Aw, we both know you're going to ace that test, babe. I swear you're smarter than the teacher," Jean responded.
"That's not true at all and you know it," Armin scoffed. "Now let me go, you leech."
"Oh, but I do know," Jean said, voice husky, as his arms trailed under his large shirt to trace little circles into the skin of his stomach, "that you don't really want that at all."
"You're insufferable, you know that?" Armin said, though his voiced hitched and trembled just the slightest bit.
Jean grinned, nipping at Armin's ear. "Is that a yes?"
"No," Armin said firmly- or as firmly as he could with his voice nearly breaking. "That's a 'get your hands off of me and get to work before you get yourself fired.' You can't be late to work a second time this month."
"Hannes isn't in the office enough to notice, and when he is, he's drunk off his ass," Jean said, trailing his hands ever higher to place teasing touches to Armin's chest, making the boy squirm. "He won't mind if I come in a little late today because I was spending some time with my boyfriend."
A small moan slipped past Armin's lips as he unconsciously leaned his head back to rest on Jean's shoulder. "I-I-ahh. I really can't, Jean," Armin tried protesting one last time, raising his hands to Jean's in what Jean assumed was an attempt to push him away but turned into an almost painful grip as Armin clutched his arms like a lifeline. "I have to study."
"C'mon," Jean said, placing an open-mouth kiss to Armin's neck that about turned him to jelly. "You can stand to take a small break, 'Min."
Armin gave a desperate, almost feral growl as he roughly pulled himself from Jean's grasp, turning and throwing his arms around Jean's neck so fast that they almost stumbled and fell to the floor. Armin's lips were on his the next second after that and suddenly it was all any of them knew. Jean swiftly pulled away and almost ripped the oversized shirt over Armin's head, leaving them both shirtless and panting, and then grabbed Armin's hand to half-run, half-stumble back up the stairs towards their shared bedroom.
Armin wouldn't get back to his studying for a while, and Jean might have made himself more than a little late with their antics, but he honestly couldn't care when he had Armin making such wonderful noises in his ear while their bodies writhed between the sheets.
Jean ended up rolling into work over an hour late and with a goofy, lopsided grin on his face that even Jaeger couldn't erase with his smartass comments about the very noticeable hickeys he now sported on his neck- most likely left there by a vengeful Armin for pulling him away from his studying to goof off and have sex, the sadistic little bastard. He didn't even mind the stern scolding he got from his boss, since it seemed like one of those rare days that Hannes managed to walk into the office completely sober, and muttered half-hearted apologies and promises to not do it again that Hannes knew were absolute bullshit, but Jean didn't care. He just hummed absentmindedly to himself and came to the silent conclusion that maybe, some mornings weren't so bad after all.
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