I've decided to take part in a 20 theme challenge, British-Prophetess's '20 Themes Challenge: Alternative Universe Romance' on dA to be exact. ^^

I've decided I'm going to do it twice. Once with a pairing technically belonging to me, from my own fic, using my character, Pidge, and my friend's character (she let me use him in my story), Neko.

But I also decided that, since I'm getting slightly obsessed with these two, I'm going to write it using Armin and Jean too. X3

So, I'd like to emphasize how much I would appreciate any criticism or reviews; not just the good ones either. I want to know about it when I go ooc, what I'm doing wrong and what I could do better, and, while I love your kind words, I'm counting on your help in this aspect! I require assistance if I want to become a better writer!

So please, sit back and enjoy!

Also, tell me if my frequent comments become annoying. I'll try to cease them if that becomes the case. X3

-l-l-l- Theme 1 -l-l-l- Your Arms Around Me -l-l-l-

Even just a small action can effectively throw a person off their feet and into the wall.
(Figuratively speaking, of course. While the other course is certainly possible- even probable- it is not necessarily the case right now.)

Which is why, when Jean suddenly felt the delicate pressure of Armin's arms around his waist, he wondered if the strategist was feeling alright.

Trying to control his reactions (my dear reader, you can probably guess them correctly), he made himself look down onto the boy's face (twisting his neck rather painfully in the process). Armin's cheeks were slightly flushed, and Jean couldn't see the boy's eyes, hidden by blonde hair.

He did vividly feel the warmth of Armin's body through his clothes, which was not helpful (and apparent proof of the universe's suckish sense of humor). Fighting to keep his cool, face red, Jean tried to focus.

He was (rather) unbalanced. Despite everything, Armin rarely indulged in actions that were more affectionate than smiles or casual contact. (When he made a move,) Jean was usually the one rebuffed and rebuked (and whacked over the head with sheets of paper) by his exasperated (though blushing) partner, who complained about the waste of time in face of their many duties. Thanks to that, Jean ended up skilled at avoided attacks implemented with paper articles. He didn't mind it all that much. There was a simple thrill in seeing Armin act so comfortably, and it made their frequent banter something completely wonderful.

But he couldn't even remember a time Armin had hugged him so suddenly, especially out on a mission. They were outside the base, for goodness sake. If Jean tried anything on duty, he was doomed. Nothing would steal Armin's attention when the boy was focused. Of course, there were those moments when they had technically finished their missions and had a moment of freedom to themselves outside the camp, or when the rain forced them to take cover somewhere. But those moments were quite different. Jean should know.

Most of all, he was alarmed by Armin's silence. It was unnatural and worrying, and far too similar to the days when a comrade died or nightmares plagued them both, nothing like their playful evening in the bunkers. Silence was the flag of despair. Words filled the moments of happiness like light when the sun shone.

Thankful that they were alone in the forest, (all of those annoying people like Jaeger and Connie were back in at the camp; he and Armin had been sent on a solitary mission) he tried to twist around to face his partner. "Armin?"

No reply.

Oh damn, something's actually happened to him. Memories . . ? If Armin's thought up some more bullshit about being less human or a burden, I swear . . .

Jean had truly no idea what it was. But anything that made Armin like this was something bad, and when it concerned Armin, bad could be just another word for hellish. He tried to turn around gently in the blonde's embrace. The boy's only reaction was to bury his face deeper in the soldier's cloak, but the taller scout managed to twist and look at his face. And immediately realize he was right.

He easily saw through the bowed head and wet cheeks. And remembered that it was the anniversary of that day, years ago, the one that the evacuees from the outer wall had left on their suicide mission. Armin had spent it in his room last year. He had sat by the window, gripping his grandfather's hat like a lifeline. But, grief, like guilt, can't be divided and reduced between people. It can only multiplied.

Jean lowered his face to the top of the blonde's head. Empathy is a horrible thing. Especially when backed up by love.

"Shhh . . ." he muttered to his lover's hair, feeling definitely awkward. This kind of stuff was really not his thing. Really, really not his thing. But he could also feel the warm grip on his body, the very real pressure of Armin's arms. Being embraced felt like becoming whole, as if, for the first time in his life, he was exactly where he was supposed to be. For the first time, Armin's arms were where they were meant to be. Jean realized that he couldn't remember the last time they had touched each other like this, and suddenly wanted to wrap his arms around the boy and pull him into him. His angry suddenly rose, fury at the silence killing them. Not hesitated a second, he scooped the boy up in his arms, holding onto him tightly.

"Jean." Armin's thin voice broke after the word, begging for comfort.

The sound of the long- far too long- absent voice was like hearing a song, and, abandoning his forced delicacy, Jean pushed the two of them forward, placing Armin between him and the dry tree bark. The leave's shadows danced on the golden hair, like clouds' shadows on a meadow. Jean stood between the whole world and Armin, the sound of that sweet voice was still ringing through his ears. He gripped the blonde's chin in his fingers and forced it up, needing to see his partner's eyes.

Joy fluttered in his chest at the sight of the beautiful rusty blue eyes, wide like the eyes of a doe, beautiful even with the delicate line of tears flowing from them. Jean stopped moving.

Armin's breath caught and he just stood mesmerized when Jean intertwined the fingers of his other hand with Armin's and pinioned it against the tree bark, rough but strangely comforting. Memories and thoughts dispersed like nightmares in the morning, and the only image that registered in his brain was the one of the tall, sandy-haired soldier before him.

Hands locked together, warmth against warmth. The one that claims you won't let you go, because they can't vanish if they're the ones refusing to let to you leave. (Logical, right?)

"Look at me, okay, Armin?" Jean never felt at home with emotional conversations, (neither do I) but he didn't look away. It was wrong to see Armin so completely broken down, and so, uneasily, but still, he tried to comfort him as best as he could. Yes, you're MY treasure, so stop crying and calm down.

"Better?" he inquired hesitantly, once he saw the boy's breathing steady.

Armin nodded weakly, calming down. He blushed slightly when noticed just how close the two of them were. One of his hands remained pinned to the tree and the other was forgotten, loose on Jean's back. But Armin couldn't shift his face, since Jean still hadn't let go of his chin. So he was forced to keep his eyes on his partner's when the other spoke, despite his growing embarrassment and blush.

"Damn you, boy." Jean spoke slowly and emphatically to the blue eyes, not releasing the blonde. The tension had finally broken, and he was revelling the wave of release. "Damn you to all the seven hells. Do you understand what a freaking frustration it is to stop myself from jumping you every day because I know I'll end up with paper in my face? And then you go off and embrace me."

"Beg your pardon." Armin muttered, smiling ever so slightly, trying to keep his still shaky voice easy. Grinning weakly, he raised his other hand to his face and wiped at his nose with the back of his sleeve before looking away, sheepish. His eyes flickered briefly towards Jean. "Was it that awful?"

"Let's say you're lucky you're still a virgin." Jean muttered darkly. (At least, I think that's what he said. What was that? Cheeky reader!) Letting the tension escape from his shoulders, he sighed. Calmer, he leaned over Armin. "But I can't say I didn't enjoy it. You should do it more often."

Before Armin could sputter a reply, he easily pulled up the blonde's chin and kissed him. Passionately and roughly, though lovingly.

Sighing into his lover's lips, Armin slipping his hand from Jean's fingers and replaced his arms around the tall soldier. Jean did likewise, pulling the boy's small frame against him. Arms around each other, they kissed under the trees.

". . . Does this mean you'll let me touch you?"

"W-What?"

"Don't get so alarmed. You just made a move on me. It's only fair that I get to do the same."

A soft sigh, slightly dazed. "Mhm. Do whatever you want."

"Anything?"

"Huh- wait- w-what-!? Wait, what are you doing!?"

"What I want."

" . . . Jean!"

(Is it too obvious I let myself enjoy myself when creating the end conversation? XD I hope they didn't go too ooc.)

(Anyway, thanks for reading!)