Armin lay face up on his mattress, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the morning. He could hear birds singing through his open window, his grandfather cooking breakfast downstairs, and the gentle rolling of waves onto the sand. The sounds he was waiting to hear, however, were the unlatching of the gate and the clinking of milk bottles as Jean walked up the path.

Twenty or so minutes later, Armin heard the gate open, so he got out of bed, pulled on a t-shirt, and quickly went downstairs. Cerise followed him, barking, as she was excited to see Jean too.

"Invite him in, would you?" Armin's grandfather said as he approached the front door. "I've made him a breakfast, god knows that boy doesn't eat nearly as much as he should."

"Okay." Armin's heart rate doubled. The past few days he had hardly seen Jean - they had both been busy. Jean had been working even more than usual and Armin had been helping his grandfather around the house. The only times they had had a chance to see each other was early in the mornings and occasionally when Jean would pop over after he had finished work, but it was never for long.

Armin opened the door as Jean was setting down the bottles on the step.

"Hey," Jean smiled.

Every time Armin saw Jean it reminded him of the kiss they had shared, and it made his heart swell with happiness.

"Hey," Armin grinned back. "Do you have time to come in?"

"I got up two hours early so I'm actually already finished," Jean said. "This is my last stop."

Armin's face lit up, and he stepped back so Jean could pass by him. It made him feel special to know that he was a priority to Jean; he'd never been one before.

"Well we made breakfast for you, too, so I hope you're hungry."

"Starving."

There wasn't an awkward air between them about the kiss they had shared. Armin thought he should be glad for that at least, but things had just gone right back to the way they had before that night in the truck. Neither of them had mentioned it. Armin didn't dare to; whenever the thought crossed his mind, he became far too embarrassed, and then anxiety overwhelmed him - what if Jean regretted it, and hadn't brought it up because he didn't want to hurt his feelings?

At the breakfast table, Armin's grandfather watched them with an almost suspicious expression, as if he knew exactly what was going on and was waiting on one of the two to bring it up.

"What are your plans for the day?" The old man asked them once Jean had finished his second helping and Armin had let his coffee go cold.

Jean looked at Armin as if he was expecting him to have arranged something for them.

"Uh, nothing yet, I guess," he said.

"Good," replied his grandfather, "because i was hoping to ask the two of you for a favour."

"Sure," Jean said. "What is it?"

"I have to travel over to the city nearby today, and I'll be staying for the weekend. I was hoping that the two of you might be able to stay here and look after Cerise until I get back."

"Of course," Jean said without hesitation. He was smiling.

"Why are you going?" Armin asked.

His grandfather raised an eyebrow at the two of them.

"You two could do with some space, and I have matters to attend to." He stood up from the table and picked up his coat from its peg.

"You're leaving already?"

"My taxi awaits." The man pointed out of the window to a car in the driveway that Armin, in his nervousness, hadn't even noticed.

"Have a good time then, doing whatever it is you're doing," Jean said.

"I will," he said. "Oh, and Jean! There's a surprise for you in the bedroom on the top floor."

As quickly as he had announced his departure, the old man had gone.

Armin and Jean sat at the table amongst the breakfast dishes.

"A surprise, huh?" Armin said, grateful that he had something to talk about. "What do you think it could be?"

"No idea."

The air was undoubtedly thicker between them. Armin wished that he could just bring it up, discuss what had happened between them, but he had no idea where to begin. It was so unlike Jean to not mention the elephant in the room, either.

"Well, you want to go check it out?"

Jean grinned. "Thought you'd never ask. Come on."

Neither of them knew what to expect from the room containing Jean's surprise, and they walked up the stairs considering the possibilities.

When Jean opened the door the room was completely dark. Jean and Armin looked at each other in confusion. But when Armin flipped the switch, the light flickered on, bathing the room in a dull red glow, and they both realised.

It was a photo development room. Rows of strings were lined up, above trays where the solution would go, with small pegs perched on top of them, ready to hold up limitless amounts of pictures.

On the table in the centre of the room was a note.

Jean,

Hope you enjoy using this room; it should be a lot less cramped than the one at your mother's house. Have a good time this weekend, take lots of pictures.

Jean coughed once he'd read it, as if there was something stuck in his throat. He blinked and turned to face Armin, who was beaming.

"I can't believe he did this for me. Did you know?"

"No," Armin said, dumbfounded that his grandfather had managed to do this without telling him.

Jean smiled a wide smile, the kind of smile that pulled at Armin's heart every time he saw it.

"Shall we go out and take some pictures?"

Armin didn't need to ask twice; Jean grabbed his hand without saying a word and they were already on their way. Jean didn't acknowledge that he was holding Armin's hand in his own. It was if it was a completely ordinary thing to do.

The sky was a little cloudy outside, but it was warm, so they decided to go down to their usual spot by the lake, relax and go over some more of the French they had been studying together.

There was nobody else around. Jean barely let go of his camera; the promise of a new developing room had seemed to incentivise him beyond measure, and he took photos of everything.

Armin shrunk away when Jean snapped a photograph at him.

"Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?" Armin asked.

"Squirm when I point the camera at you."

"I don't do that."

Jean raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, you do."

Armin didn't meet his eyes. How could he possibly explain how he felt? Jean would never understand; he was so attractive, without even trying. He was tall, muscular, his hair was perfect.

Instead of trying to justify himself Armin just shrugged and looked away.

"Tell me why."

Armin sighed a deep sigh. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Well, no, or I wouldn't be asking." Jean smiled, but he was nervous.

There was a pause.

"Well?" Jean said, looking right at Armin, which only made Armin feel more uncomfortable. He had dreaded this moment.

"I just…"

"You just what?"

"I mean, look at me." Armin gestured at his skinny frame. "I look nothing like you, do I?"

Jean didn't say anything for a second. "You don't like the way you look?"

"Of course I don't."

"Is that why you never want to go swimming?"

Armin averted his gaze again.

"I knew it." Jean looked at him with an expression that Armin couldn't see. "And you don't think I find you attractive either, do you?"

"Why would you?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I'm so skinny."

"I'm still attracted to you." Jean's face flushed red. He had no idea how hard that would be to say.

Armin finally looked him in the eyes. He looked doubtful. "You are?"

"I mean it. I think you're really attractive. Or did you forget what happened last week?"

Armin blushed, feeling a huge weight lift off his shoulders. "How could I forget? It was the best night of my life."

"Right then. So why were you worried?"

"I don't know. I can't help it, I guess."

Jean moved a little closer to Armin, so that their arms were touching, and lay down on the grass, looking up at the sky. Armin lay beside him. Jean scanned his surroundings quickly, making sure nobody was around, before kissing Armin hard on the lips.

If Armin was blushing before, his face was burning now, but he didn't resist. He had missed that feeling more than he'd realised. The familiar feeling of desire he got when he was near Jean grew larger.

"Will you stay over tonight?" He asked when they had broken apart, without thinking.

Jean grinned. "I'd love to. Shall I cook?"

"Sounds perfect to me."

On their walk back to the house, Armin didn't feel half as anxious as he usually did. They held hands until they got back to the town, when they let go, fearing that somebody might see, and realise they were more than just friends.

Jean got to work beginning the development process of the pictures he had taken that day, so that they would be ready to look at by the evening. Armin heated up some leftovers for their lunch, humming along to the radio while Cerise watched from her bed.

They ate together, laughed together, sung along badly to the radio together. Things to Armin felt just right. His mind wandered; he started to think what it would be like to spend every day with Jean just like this. It would be a good life, one where he could come home every day to somebody that he loved. Could he just stay in France forever? He didn't want to return to America. It didn't feel like home anymore. This house did. His grandfather did.

Jean did.

One evening rolled around, Armin lit a fire while Jean cooked, and lay on the sofa, reading one of the books he'd brought with him. Armin occasionally peeked over the top of his book to watch Jean as he cooked. He looked so focused; it made Armin smile. There was something about seeing Jean putting care and effort into something that made Armin's heart swell. Jean's love could be seen in the things he did, may that be working hard to finish work early, taking the time to frame the perfect shot, or by sweating in the kitchen on a summer's evening to make dinner for the both of them.

"How's the writing going recently?" Jean asked once they had sat down for their meal.

"I've not written much recently, but I want to. And that's something at least."

Jean smiled. "I'm glad. How is it?"

Armin took a mouthful of the pasta. "It's delicious, wow. Thank you."

"My pleasure."


Armin was grateful for the red light of the developing room; it disguised his blush. He was reminded of how cramped it had been the last time he and Jean and developed photographs together - how they had both been pressed against each other in the low light, their faces flushed, their breathing heavy. Just the thought of then sent a shiver down his spine. But this was different. Back then, Armin had known that as soon as they left that tiny room, the moment would be over. Now, however, the whole night was an unknown. How long would the tension between them last? Who would make the move? Armin silently prayed that it would be Jean, because he didn't know if he could pluck up the courage.

He watched Jean as he methodically took down the photos from their positions on the line, looking at each one before placing them in a neat pile.

"Here, look at this one," he said, taking the last photograph. "Actually, let's get out of here, I can barely see a thing."

Armin followed him out into the hallway, where the bright light stung his eyes. Jean closed the door behind him and held out the photo.

Armin blinked. It was of him, but he looked so… different. He was smiling, something which he realised he had never seen himself doing before. The sunlight shone in his eyes, and his skinny frame didn't look so disproportionate. His cheeks were slightly pink. This wasn't the same person he saw in the mirror. It was as if this Armin was someone else entirely.

"Did you do something to this?"

"What?" Jean asked. "I don't even know how that would be possible. All I did was develop it."

"Do I really look like that?"

"Of course you do." Jean looked at him like he was being ridiculous.

Armin felt his chest swell. In that moment, every fear and anxiety he'd had melted away like they were never there to begin with. There wasn't the panic of wondering who would initiate, or if Jean wouldn't want to.

He turned his head and kissed Jean, who hadn't expected a thing. The neatly stacked pile of photographs fell to the ground, covering the floor, but neither of them seemed to care; there were other things on their minds. Both of Jean's hands held Armin's cheeks, as if he couldn't help but try to bring Armin's body closer to his. He groaned with a mixture of pleasure and longing, wanting more. Armin felt his knees go weak at the sound, and they buckled slightly. He felt dizzy and flushed.

"Shall we-" he started to say, but Jean took his hand and led him down a flight of stairs and into Armin's room.

It was dark inside, but the light from the hallway illuminated enough to see by. A pile of clothes was lying on the chair, and his desk was covered with books.

Jean shut the door behind him, casting the room in darkness, and reached for Armin's hand again. He pulled him closer, and they kissed again, slower this time. Armin felt almost sick with desire. He was sweating; his face felt like it was burning. But he didn't try to pull away, or question what was going on. He just let Jean lead, and followed every step of the way.

They ended up on the bed before long. Armin lay underneath Jean, who was on his hands and knees, arms bent to be able to reach Armin's lips. He reached up to run his hands through Jean's hair. Jean let himself lower down until their bodies were pressed together. Armin moaned at the feeling of Jean's body against his, and instinctively thrust his hips up without meaning to.

"Sorry," he gasped, embarrassed.

"No, don't be." Jean sat up on the bed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Armin sat up too. "That was… that was good."

"Okay." Armin's mind was racing. Was this going where he thought it was? "What do we, er, do now?"

Jean broke eye contact and looked sideways. Was he embarrassed too?

"I mean. I'd like to, you know, if you do too."

Armin felt something tighten in his stomach.

"I do, but…" he stared at his lap. "I don't really know how it works."

Jean laughed. "Of course you don't."

"Shut up."

"I'll show you." Jean lifted his shirt over his head, revealing the defined muscles underneath from working on the farm. Armin could help but stare. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Jean slowly lifted the hem of Armin's shirt over his head. Armin wanted to shrink away, but resisted, remembering what Jean had said at the lake. He shivered slightly; it was getting cold.

"What now?"

"I'll show you."

Jean leaned over and kissed him again, this time pressing their torsos together. Armin could feel how hard he was, and knew that Jean could too. It felt too good to be ashamed about. He didn't resist.

"You're so hot," Jean murmured as he started kissing Armin's neck, resisting the urge to leave a mark there.

Armin feared opening his mouth; he didn't want to moan too loudly. His breathing was heavy and desperate, which sent shivers down Jean's spine. He lay back down on the bed, letting Jean climb on top of him.

"You sure you want to do this?" Jean asked once his kisses had trailed all the way down to the waistband of Armin's trousers.

"I'm sure, as long as you are," Armin replied breathily; the anticipation was killing him.

"Je t'aime, Armin."

"I love you too."


When it was over, they lay next to each other in bed, the sheets covering their naked bodies.

"Are you okay?" Jean asked, fearing he'd hurt Armin too much.

"I'm good," Armin said. "It wasn't… what I expected, I guess, but it was amazing anyway."

"Was it painful?"

"A little, but not too badly."

Jean breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad. I was worried."

Armin rolled on his side to face Jean. "But how was it for you?"

"It was - fuck, I don't even know how to describe it. I've never felt so good in my life."

Armin blushed, feeling his heart rate pick back up.

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Me too."

"Are you tired?"

"Fucking exhausted."

"Me too. Sleep here with me?"

"Well, I didn't really assume I'd be sleeping on the floor if I'm honest, so sure."

"Shut up."

Jean laughed and took Armin in his arms.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Jean."

Armin didn't know how this thing with Jean, whatever it was, was going to fit into his life. But as he fell asleep, his head resting on Jean's shoulder, he didn't really care.