Armin Arlert never thought himself useful. Not once. When someone seemed frustrated, however, he took care of it. In any way possible. He knew which men or women needed what. Like Mikasa, for example. She needed a good pep talk, a reminder, and most of the time, just wise words. Armin could give her that. When Eren was frustrated, he needed a reminder, a reminder of why he was still fighting. He never mentioned that Armin needed him to keep fighting because Armin couldn't. When Eren had no longer found comfort in his quite reminders, he went down on the other boy.
When they got in the Cadet Training Corps, he met Connie, and Connie was always sweet, but he got frustrated, too. When Armin had tried everything in his books, he just straight up kissed him. It seemed to erase Connie's frustration and that's how it worked. Marco just really needed a hug or a laugh.
Then Reiner became frustrated, also. The same thing happened. Except not. His knees ended up on the floor, Reiner's hands delved into his blonde hair. He didn't really mind, it's not like he could do anything else right. Except Reiner got frustrated often, and that's why he was always so quick to do away with it, because Armin always took care of it.
And then came Jean.
Jean watched Armin closely. Watched him trail after Eren, and support Mikasa. He saw the sleepless nights he continued to have after graduation. He watched him watch everyone else so closely. It was frustrating, watching him drive himself crazy trying to keep everyone cheery. Jean always fell behind him, watching his eyes move to all of his friends, gliding over him when he was in Armin's direct line of sight.
But he blamed that on his and Eren's mutual dislike for one another. Jean had convinced himself the Armin was in love with Eren Yeager; which he was. Armin was very much in love with those oh so green eyes. Marco had asked one time, after that, what he had done to make Eren walk lighter, because it had to have been Armin. No one else was capable of making Eren happier like Armin was.
Jean had watched though, watched as Eren used him time and time again. Watched as Armin fell apart.
He'd pushed Eren, when Armin collapsed against a wall after a particularly bad night, and when Eren had snapped at him for unknown reasons. He'd just been fed up. And then Armin had given him that look. That look like he'd just realized something, before sweeping his eyes to the floor and frowning deeply.
I was seething, heading with a purpose down the hallway. When Armin rounded the corner, a few feet away from me, he looked at me in surprise. I glared into his eyes. It was hardto believe this innocent looked, tired, worn out kid – I was pissing myself off.
"Tch," I hissed between my teeth, meaning to brush past him. When I tried, though, he caught my sleeve between thin fingers. My heart near stopped, but I didn't forget how pissed I was. I looked over at him, at his lowered head.
"J-Jean," his shoulder shook a little, "You don't have to compare yourself to Eren, Jean," he told me. My shoulders tensed and I snatched my arm away from his fingers. When I tried to move again, he grabbed my arm. I didn't expect to be pushed into a supply closet, back against brick wall. Armin's fingers shook as they pressed against my belt.
"Hey!" I went to lunge down, but a hand pressed against my thigh stopped me. I stood in rigid shock for moment, only to snap back to reality when fingers landed on my zipper, "I said: hey!" I reached down and snatched his chin up. His eyes went wide, fear glazing them up before I grabbed the collar of his neck and switched our positions. He scrunched his face up, fear written all over the expression.
"J-Jean, I'm sorry. I just thought that-!" Armin flinched when a hand slid across his cheek and into his hair.
"Dammit, why?" Jean asked quietly. Armin opened his eyes slowly, seeing a scowling Jean. He looked confused, and angry. Armin reached forward with his head- what would make Jean happy again?
"Stop that, Arlert!" His head was pushed back, "Stop pushing yourself on people. Stop worrying about everyone!" Jean said in his face. Armin stared at him.
"I'm- I-"
"No! Other people's frustrations are their frustrations, not yours, Armin,"
"It's the only thing I can do right," a tear slid down the side of Armin's cheek. Jean stared at him wide-eyed. It was like a dam had broken loose, though and Armin pushed himself forward, to leave, to run, to hide. To get away from Jean.
But Jean was having none of it. He pulled the other boy to him, burying his nose in Armin's blonde locks. Armin gasped but buried his face into Jean's chest.
"I-I'm supposed to be strong-" Armin said against Jean after it was mostly silent, excluding Armin's labored breathing.
"So's everyone else. But they depend on you to pick up their pieces and care when they're acting like babies. Well- screw 'em. Who's been trailin' after you, huh?"
"You?" Armin guessed.
"Not even me. I've been watching you hand out blowjobs all over the place since Training Camp," at the indicating word, Armin flinched, a shudder going through him and pressing closer to his horse, his hands clenched in Jean's khaki, eyes wide.
"I-I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to watch me, Jean,"
"No, I damn sure shouldn't have. You should be able to take care of yourself," Armin flinched, trying to pull away but Jean kept a strong hold on him, "But that's not an excuse. I understand," Jean pulled him closer. "I understand," he whispered. Armin shuddered, but closed his eyes and pressed closer into Jean's embrace.