Eren gazed at the digital screen of his personal iConnect, the ceiling fan making a rhythmic whoosh and squeak that he found comforting after three years, even if the landlord offered to upgrade it for free. Curtesy of a government program or something about unsafe twentieth century tech. He didn't understand such things though. Was the fan going to spin its way off his ceiling or something? Not any more likely than he would spin out of control.
Work had dragged on all week, but for some reason, his weekend dragged even longer. Having Armin sprawled across his lap should have offered some sort of entertainment, but his best friend looked equally bored. His own iConnect flashed different types of exotic fruit and the local prices. However, his blue eyes looked glazed over.
"Why does nothing change," Eren sighed. "All this bullshit is the same every day."
Armin grunted back, but otherwise gave no indication that he listened. "That's because your life is a cycle of repeating idiocies. The algorithm probably doesn't know what to do with your pathetic-ness."
"Armin!"
After a sharp pinch to the smaller man's arm, Armin yelped, then lowered his device. When the electronic screen vanished, he met Eren's eyes with a far softer gaze. "Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to for a minute." Which seemed like a very dumb excuse, but Eren let it slide. "Although, I get what you mean about being bored. What have you been staring at this whole time anyway? I know you don't read the articles."
"Huh?" Eren shifted so he could show Armin as the smaller man shifted to use Eren's shoulder like a pillow. "The relationship compatibility program. I was typing in friends to see what our compatibility is. You know ours is at seventy-eight percent right?" he added with a shit-eating grin, eyebrows waggling as the other man gave an outright groan. "Oh, and then there's Mikasa. After I bought all those gay porn magazines last night, our compatibility dropped a whole five percent."
"Oh really. I wonder why," Armin bit out. Despite his words, his eyebrows quirked up with interest. He just wished Eren would keep quiet about his porn choice. Eying the rumpled bed sheets, he wondered if Eren got a chance to use those magazines...and if he did laundry after.
Eren laughed, no doubt reading his mind. "You're such a…ah hey!" He punched Armin in the arm. "Look! It updated again!"
Both of them stared in wonder. Where a particular dark haired man with a severe cut and matching scowl always sat as Eren's top pick, a new face appeared. "Ninety-six percent match? Holy shit, Ere. I didn't know that was possible!"
Eren squinted, not sure he believed it himself. "Jean Kirschtein? Who the fuck is this?" The guy looked young, like Eren, though he couldn't guess an exact age from just a picture. That image though, Eren couldn't help but stare. Short brown hair peeked from beneath layers of blonde, and Jean's ears each bore two black stones. It took a second for the sight to fully filter down and when it did, it struck Eren hard. He knew this face. Not from the dating app though. The memory left him frozen until the prickle of eyes brought him back to awareness. Eren wasn't even sure now long Armin stared at him. Not a half-hearted gaze either, but full on, I-forgot-what-blinking-was kind of staring. "...What?"
Armin shook his head with that epiphany look that Eren rarely understood without help. "So wait, he was never in your matches at all before? Not like, fifth place or something. Don't tell me he-"
Eren laughed as he pulled a hand through his messy brown locks. "Uh, yeah. Looks like it. A near perfect match and he appeared out of fucking nowhere. Crazy right? Maybe the algorithm broke?" Like, really broke. How could two strangers get that compatible? Even his match with Levi, the highest he'd ever gotten, peaked at only eighty-two. He considered that pretty damn high for someone he never met, and didn't much plan to track down either. For all that the numbers interested him, he'd always been content to let fate throw all the punches. He didn't need a system to tell him what he needed, but this was too much. Ninety-six percent? He'd die of curiosity if he did nothing now.
"The algorithm doesn't just break like that," Armin chided, though awe colored his voice, curiosity shining in his eyes. "Everything you do and buy, who you're with and when gets calculated together. You go to the internet cafe, you buy lattes when with me or black coffee when alone, go to a sports game or agree to a political survey. You know it all adds up. The iConnect knows everything, Ere. There's no way it could ever be wrong!" he added with a dreamy sigh. Not that Eren hadn't heard this many times before. Armin turned into such a nerd when he technobabbled. Nevermind that it all went right over Eren's head. "You're the only idiot who doesn't trust it, you know."
Eren rolled his eyes. "So sue me. I don't like people telling me what to do."
"Oh, I hadn't noticed," Armin answered with a dry laugh spilling from his lips. "But that still doesn't explain where the match came from. I'd expect someone of such high compatibility to at least exist on the peripheries, even if your match suddenly improved. I mean, unless one of you experienced a personality meltdown…? No, even then," Armin cut himself off. "But a match is a match. He's got me curious. Makes me want to meet this guy now.…"
Letting himself get lost in the profile picture again, Eren hummed low and soft enough to draw Armin's eye. "Well…I think I can arrange that…" Eren sounded the words out, slow and not quite sure of his plan. Armin opened his mouth once, closed it, before managing an actual answer.
"You know him? Wait, seriously?!"
Eren shook his head before Armin could go off on a wild tangent. "No. But I do know where to find him." The image of that tall head of two toned hair dancing in the flashing lights of Club Zsomnia rose in his mind. Not once, but twice did he see Jean there. Jean. Eren tasted the name in the back of his mind, excited to place it with the brief images he'd glimpsed before. Not that he stared or gave the guy much attention, not in such a crowded club. But now, he couldn't help but want to try, to see what happened when ninety-six percent matches met.
When he and Armin met eyes again, all that determination shone through. Oh yes, he would meet this guy no matter what.
xXx
Like most Friday nights, the club teemed with people and the sour scent of alcohol. Eren swayed to the music. The tight black pants and crimson tank top he wore showed off his muscles and bronzed skin, now slick with sweat. Others shouted nearby as an awkward couple of Reiner and Connie did a half choreographed, half grinding dance on the floor. Choreographed from Connie's side, senseless hip motions from Reiner. Honestly, he wondered how they didn't crash into each other, but he found the ridiculousness almost endearing. When he slunk away to collect a new round of drinks, they were still at it too, as if they hadn't danced half the night away already. He almost regretted that Armin couldn't join them, but he also relished the lack of watching eyes. After all, who knew how this night would go.
Eren sipped his drink, eyes unfocused as he stared into the sea of dancers. So many faces, spinning, twisting together. Would he ever run into Jean like this? How many weeks would he needed to hound the club, looking for a face he saw in only glances before? Even if his gut told him to push on, his mind wondered why. Did he expect some kind of fairy-tale love? A compatibility app didn't hold that kind of mystic power. He should leave. As Eren stood though, a flash of platinum blonde and brown caught his eye—Jean.
Before he even realized it, Eren had downed his drink and slammed the glass back down. Fate intervened after all. How could he deny it? His feet took him to the dance floor where Jean stood, chatting with a tall, dark-haired man. Undaunted by the added audience, Eren stopped right in front of them with his grin growing wider by the second.
"Hey babe. Care to dance with me?"
The taller man's eyebrows arched straight up into his hairline, amusement clear on his face. Jean outright snorted. "Excuse me? Why would I dance with a short punk like you?" His eyes darted back to his companion. "Whatever. Looks like the mood is shot for tonight. See you around, Bertolt. Say hi to your new boy for me." He tossed out a wave, never once giving Eren more than a glance.
"Sorry, what?" Eren gaped. For a second, he stood there with his mouth open, so shocked that he wondered if he misheard. Like Jean meant that insult for someone else or the music made the words harsher than intended. When the pair tried to step past him though, it all clicked into place. That little fucker rejected him without a single glance. Screw being suave. No one got away with talking to Eren like that. "Hey! Don't just ignore me when I ask for a dance!" He fixed the pair with a glare that even made bystanders take notice. Seriously, he got his hopes up for this? An elitist prick?
A second passed, then the other guy—Bertolt—flashed Eren an amused smile. "I uh…really don't want to get involved, but if you want to dance, you should offer him a drink first. He's less of an asshole when drunk, though you seem a bit like one too, so it should be fine." After an awkward shrug, he shuffled back toward the crowd.
"I'm not an asshole!" both Eren and Jean screamed at the same time, but the words fell on deaf ears. Despite his height, Bertolt disappeared into the throngs of dancers in a way only a petite person should have managed.
When Eren and Jean met eyes again, he flushed, unnerved by his unraveling plans. Jean just crossed his arms though with a rather constipated look. Absolutely not attractive. And yet, Eren couldn't let himself back down yet. "So…if I buy you a drink, will you dance with me?"
Jean stared at him in incredulity, the silence stretching for almost a full minute before he broke into a wild grin. "Why not? Fine, buy me a drink and we'll go from there." He threw up both hands, then grabbed Eren's wrist in a seeming rage. Eren couldn't help but notice a certain tentativeness to his grip though, like he existed outside of his element. Very far outside of it. Eren's eyes narrowed at the taller man's back, but he said nothing as they stalked to the bar. He had no idea what he could say.
They downed their double shots of Fireball at the same time, leaving dragon tongues curling to Eren's toes and a pink flush rising on Jean's cheeks. "I'm Eren by the way," he managed, grinning at the sweet look that Jean wore without seeming to realize it.
"Jean," he croaked back before licking his lips, his voice regaining the confident cadence from before. Eren didn't want to reveal that he knew the guy's name already, so he smiled, tried to look like he hung on Jean's every word. Which wasn't hard when his lips looked dry and chapped even as a drop of moisture clung to them. Oh shit. Eren had to resist the urge to lean forward and lick it off. As fun as the prospect sounded, he felt sure Jean would rip his head off if he tried. But Eren must have been staring too hard anyway because Jean let out a growl, regaining his attention in a second. "Now, were we going to dance or what?"
A bright grin burst over Eren's face, lighting up the sea-green color of his eyes. Everyone called them 'unfair' so he liked to use the power to his full advantage. "We are!" This time, he grabbed hold of Jean and dragged him back to the dance floor, grip insistent, but not painful. He didn't want to be a dick, but he was excited. He didn't even know what spurred him on at this point—the app, or just Jean, not that he knew anything about the guy yet.
After Eren manhandled him onto the dance floor, his hands and hips led them into the song's rhythm. Jean's eyes slipped closed and he breathed in deep, through his nose, before relaxing into Eren's grip. Less than a minute later, they were sliding their bodies together, rocking, grinding, then jumping with hands raised, like diving birds coming up for air. Nothing but the dance floor existed. Nothing besides the heat of their bodies, back to front, with Jean doing something sinful against Eren's crotch.
Even when the song ended, they kept dancing from one rhythm right into the next. Eren thought it might go on forever, but when he spun Jean around to dance face to face again, one of Jean's long legs caught on a passing stranger's foot. Cranberry juice and vodka flew into the air drawing a cry from both of them.
"Watch it, jackass!" The stranger cried. "Damn it, now I have to get another…"
"You watch it!" Eren snapped back, surprised that he beat Jean to it. The guy looked dazed though, staring at the club as if seeing it for the first time. Eren almost let that distant look distract him. When the stranger flipped him off though, Eren surged forward, too far gone to stop whatever his idiotic limbs planned on doing.
"Eren! For Christ's sake!"
That got his limbs to stop. What was so interesting about hearing those words from Jean's mouth though? Oh right, that guy never called his name before. Licking suddenly dry lips, Eren dropped his gaze to the dance floor, noting the shine of spilt liquid, inches from Jean's shoes—black combat boots with impeccable laces. They'd been pulled so tight it almost looked anal. Eren's converses with their half untied laces felt stupid next to Jean's. "Sorry."
The silence stretched for one second, then five, then thirty. Jean finally sighed as he deflated, gripping hard at Eren's arm. "Idiot. It's just a drink spill. At least he didn't ask us to pay for a new one. Probably knew it was his fault in the first place," Jean added with a roll of his eyes. He shoved both hands into his jean pockets before Eren lifted his head with a rueful grin.
"Yeah? That's true. But damn, I was enjoying that dance. Thought we could keep going until tomorrow if no one stopped us!" He was quite pleased to see a flush race across Jean's cheekbones. "Guess it's over now?"
Jean rolled his eyes for what had to be the tenth time that night. "Yeah? I don't see why I should stay with you, asshat. I've already done my societal duty for the day." Snorting, he broke their eye contact. "Peace out!" When he spun on his heel though, his voice came out strained and he didn't storm off like Eren expected. He didn't go anywhere at all. It almost looked like he waited for something. Like he wanted someone to grab him around the waist and pull him back down to earth.
"Well, I don't feel done with you yet!" Eren shouted back, surprising himself with the conviction in his voice.
"Hah?!"
"I…I bet you're running away because you know you'd lose!" The words came spilling out of Eren's mouth, his mind inventing the wild theories on the spot. "Heh. I led the dancing and if we drank, I'd put you under the table too. Wimp."
To his surprise, Jean spun around, hazel eyes livid with fire and darkness and a thousand other things that sent a thrill straight up Eren's spine. "Get real. There's no way a bratty looking guy like you could drink me under the table. How about you put your money where your mouth is if you want to pick a fight!"
Eren's hands balled into fists as he puffed his chest, eyes answering Jean's challenge. "Maybe I will. Meet you at the bar, dickwad, unless you're too chicken for a drinking contest!"
"Oh no!" Jean jabbed a finger into Eren's chest, not quite pushing him back, but still hard enough to sting. "I'm not going to get pulled into your stupid antics again. I have nothing to prove!" He crossed his arms, turning his head to glare at the wall to the right of them. Eren understood now though, understood these stupid little repeating patterns. Because Jean still hadn't walked away. Probably never would.
"You won't stay even if I pay for the first round of drinks?" Eren blinked his eyes, pleading, even if Jean looked elsewhere. He knew his voice dripped with honey, so when Jean tilted his head, hazel eyes meeting his, he knew he won.
"Well…" Jean sounded the word out, still half faced away. "We'll have to see about that." And then they were stalking back to the bar, both too keyed up to ever dream of losing, too keyed up to care if they did. After all, how could anyone lose in this situation?
Eren held true to his word. From the very first drink, he'd already won and they both knew it. Over the course of an hour, it only got more clear. "How are you still standing?!" Jean groaned, his face cradled in the crook of one arm. Eren grinned back despite the roar of blood pulsing behind his ears.
"Actually, I'm sitting. And you're a lightweight," Eren crowed, not censoring the faint slur to his words. It was nothing compared to Jean's glassy eyed stare as he swayed, finally took the last swig of his drink, then dropped his forehead to the bar.
"Hey, hey...it won't be good if you pass out here. Just accept that you lost already..." Feeling hesitant, Eren dropped a hand onto Jean's shoulder. When he didn't react, he rubbed his hand down the other man's back, feeling out the knots of tension. It turned out that after a few beers, the guy loosened up. They liked similar rock bands and used to smoke the same cigarettes, but Eren quit years ago and Jean still struggled with the habit. Said the reason he quit stopped working. Which made Eren nod, because he understood. It was hard. In truth, they shared a lot in common and they could agree just as passionately as they could disagree.
"Eren…I-" But Jean shook his head and stopped just as suddenly as he started. His glassy eyes looked so open and honest though that Eren swore a different person crawled out of his skin when he started drinking. It left warmth pooling in Eren's chest.
"Look at you, swaying like that. You can't even form a sentence." Despite his tease, a soft smile crossed over Eren's face. Damn, he was falling fast like an idiot. He wouldn't even get sex tonight since Jean didn't look like he could find his dick in his pants, let alone use it. But hell if Eren cared. He only felt himself grow warmer. "I should call you a car."
Wordlessly, Jean nodded his head against the bar's surface. That openness stayed on his face as he watched Eren, even when his eyes seemed to go somewhere else. Eren settled their tabs and five minutes later, he half dragged Jean outside. The car already called, he dropped down to the curb, the other man slumped against his side. "Should be ten or fifteen minutes. Sober up a bit or you won't be able to get home even with a ride."
Letting out a faint groan, Jean nodded his head against Eren's shoulder. "'M tryin' kay." A second later, Jean slipped down to rest his head in Eren's lap. Nothing short of adoration shone in his eyes while Eren hovered there, shocked and clueless. Jean made himself comfortable like he'd done this a million times before, snuggling for warmth or love or something Eren couldn't even guess at. It felt far too nice. Eren couldn't help but drop a hand into the short strands of Jean's hair. It looked more ashen in the starlight, like silver on top of black instead of gold and bronze. For minutes, they sat in silence like that until Eren's hand moved down to Jean's neck and he let out a hum deep in his throat.
"Yer always so nice to me. Marco…" The sigh that left Jean's lips lifted all his tension away, melting his muscles into goo.
Eren's heart slammed in his chest at the sound of it. His fingers froze, still barely touching the cool skin at Jean's hairline as the other man muttered an unfamiliar name. Oh…oh. The truth hit Eren so hard it actually awed him. From the reluctance of their first dance to the wild, lost energy of his hips, to the fucking wide, hazy eyes that looked through, not at him. Oh, it was so clear now. Jean liked someone enough to call out their name in a drunken state. And Eren fucked it all up.
Jean's eyes blinked into focus just as Eren squeezed his own shut. Before he could react though, a standard, black car rolled to a stop in front of them. Despite the mechanized grace, it caused both men to jump, Jean's eyes going wide with realization. Because of the name he called out or the position they lay in? Staggering on the smooth black pavement, Jean gave the impression he didn't even know he'd walked outside, let alone what happened since.
"Hey, your ride is here. Will you be okay?" Eren managed to ask, though his lips pulled into a tight line. He couldn't meet Jean's eyes, but he wasn't such a dickwad that he'd storm away and leave a drunk person without seeing them into a cab. Especially when a small, snarky voice that sounded distressingly like Armin said he caused this. Yeah, he could admit to that.
"S-sorry," Jean croaked, then stuffed himself into the car like he couldn't get away fast enough. Like he realized his happy, warm spot of sunshine consisted of a complete stranger's lap. Oh god. Eren bowed over, watching as the car drove away and the night's cool air settled around him. Why did he notice it now of all times? Fighting off the shivers, he stalked back to the club, hellbent on finding someone sober enough to drive him home. All his will to party vanished with that car and god, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Why did it turn so cold now?
The flash of soft hazel eyes covered his vision for a second, haunting Eren, but also thrilling him. He knew even before the club's door slid closed behind him that he couldn't leave Jean alone, even if he should. No, at the very least, he needed to know what caused that beautiful look of adoration. And if he could help it, the next time Jean's eyes shone like that, he would be the cause. If nothing else, Eren would get the satisfaction of the truth.
A/N: So wow, it's been about 4 years since I posted a fic and here I go jumping straight into a fandom with 20k words. XD I wanted to get something posted by the end of the year, but I should have the rest of the chapters posted soon. I'm just doing my final edits, so uh, enjoy my debut in AoT~