The first snow of the season never failed to prise wonder in even the dullest, jejune individual.

Of course, Armin, accompanied loyally by Eren and Mikasa, was the first to eagerly secure a spot in front of the largest window in their base. All three of them were like children being exposed to snow for the very first time, even though they'd likely experienced snow every winter since childhood. The chill of the snow already began to seep in through every nook and cranny available in the building, leading to a thick blanket all but infusing around Armin's body for warmth. In fact, Jean likened him (with amusement while hanging back and observing) to a fuzzy little caterpillar perched on a leaf to watch the big wide world around it. Armin had to be the cutest caterpillar Jean had ever witnessed.

Lips ever so slightly parted, warm breath seeping through the interstitial space to fog up and to blind, the window's transparent, frosty glass, nothing could influence Armin away from the window. For once, Armin need not concern himself with upholding a mature facade and rather easily succumbed to the childish sense of wonder, to the open, and honest, and completely and utterly raw curiosity ingrained in every single strand of DNA that he rarely allowed to display. Awestruck suited Armin fairly well - as did the pure icy blue of the midday sky, complementing his azure, wide-eyed observations.

However, bitterness protruded beneath the surface of Armin's expression, married by his discernible, yet delicate, disgruntled frown creating creases in his forehead and weighing down the corners of his pink lips. The thought of his immune system failing him during the frigid wintertime did not occur to anybody other than Armin, who often succumbed with malaise once the snow began to fall.

Although judging by the smile Armin shared with his childhood friends situated to his right - a smile warm enough to melt the entire snowscape outside - he did not allow the possibility to affect him negatively.

"It's already beginning to snow and we haven't even gotten our new winter uniforms for the year," Sasha commented, joining the trio, along with Connie, to gaze out of the window. They all shuffled to adjust their viewing position, aside from Armin who was both too engrossed with admiration to follow suit, and too small to obstruct somebody's view.

Though, Sasha did introduce a considerable point that prompted Eren's attention. "Captain Levi mentioned a while ago that he organised new winter uniforms for all of us, but there was a slight delay. I don't think anybody expected the snow to come as early as it did," Eren recalled.

"Why can't we use last years' uniforms? Everyone still has theirs, right?" Connie questioned although never tearing his eyes away from the view to affirm everybody's wordless affirmations.

While Connie was certainly correct, and that everybody still had last year's winter uniforms in storage, they had most likely grown out of them due to their developing teenage bodies. For leisure and play - as Connie clearly preoccupied his thoughts with - misfitting garments might not bother them. For combat, or for flight, the closely claustrophobic clothes would restrict movements. Their captain clearly thought ahead to account for their growing bodies.

"We don't fit in them anymore. I heard Captain muttering to himself about it last week. I believe he said something like, this is why I hate living with brats; they just don't stop growing'," Eren answered, sharing an amused smile with Connie and Sasha. As he mimicked their stolid Captain, he adorned a similar frown, one that Eren had quickly become accustomed to with the extensive amount of time he spent with the Captain.

"Maybe we can still play in the snow with our old uniforms. I've never gotten to build a snowman, so I'd like to do that at least once in my life. Hey, Jean," Sasha suddenly addressed the only member of the squad to not eagerly join them at the window, throwing a glance over her shoulder towards the tall brunette. "Will you build a snowman with me and Connie tomorrow?"

"No way. I'm not willing to freeze my ass off just so you two can use me to lift the snowballs for you," Jean adamantly refused, though Sasha seemingly predicted Jean's refusal judging by her humoured giggle. Unlike everybody else, the sight of the snow did not fascinate Jean in the slightest. The only reason he hung around his teammates was to wait for them to abandon their wonder by the window frame and the snowy landscape and return to something more interesting than watching a natural phenomenon. Staying in front of the fire and performing something much more productive than frivolously messing about in the snow.

The suggestion may have soured Jean's already embittered impatience but inspired possibilities within Mikasa. "Would you like to build a snowman, too, Eren?" She offered. Building snowmen may have been a routine for the trio when they were still small children. Because years may have passed since crafting their last snowman, returning to that nostalgic state of playfulness and childishness would be something to look forward to.

"Sure. All three of us can make one. That should be fun," Eren confirmed, gesturing to the bundled up blonde in the middle of the window frame.

"I'll, uh, pass," Armin declined after a small pause, tearing his gaze away from the window for the first time since the snow began to fall. Becoming so engrossed with the sight in front of him could have attributed to the gap in response, but judging by his disrelished grimace, reluctance caused the pause. "I'm probably going to stay inside."

"Are you kidding, Armin? We were recruits the last time it snowed, and we had no time to play or anything! We haven't done this since we were kids - you can't miss out!" Eren attempted to convince, expression frantic as though this would be Armin's last ever opportunity to venture into the snow. In spite of Eren's disbelief, an excited thrill ran through Jean's entire body; as subtle as a shiver but as powerful as electricity. Who wouldn't feel delighted after procuring the opportunity to spend time with his (secretly) beloved blonde?

"Don't you remember how sick I used to get when we played in the snow? I didn't mind as a kid, but with our training schedules, I can't afford to miss out when I'm already performing badly enough as it is," Armin explained as sympathetic as could be.

"And spending all winter inside with nothing to do except for talking to Jean is a better alternative?" Eren questioned exasperatedly, not bothering to lower his voice to a subtle tone.

Surprise did not overcome Jean, for this rivalry of theirs rendered Eren's comment completely normal. A disgruntled frown graced Jean's face, indicative of the offence Jean vehemently felt as a result. "You make it seem like a bad thing," he retorted, unimpressed.

"Obviously," Eren shot back.

"Asshole..." Jean muttered. Whatever happiness Jean experienced had been crushed under the weight of Eren's disapproval. Luckily, Armin's words quickly came to his rescue, soothing his unruly friend and aggrieved admirer with his cottoned voice.

"It's not bad, Eren. I just don't want to get sick," Armin justified in gentle defence. As Eren returned to gaze out of the window - disappointedly brooding - with a silent Mikasa, and Sasha and Connie continued to debate about the type of snowman they would build with the infinite amount of snow layered on the group the moment they slid into their new uniforms, Armin glanced over his shoulder to capture Jean's eyes as though his pupils were the opening of a gun, and his stare acted like a bullet that pierced his heart. In the most tender, most demonstrative, way possible. And with a gentle smile, too, so subtle yet so concurrently lurid that Jean had a hard time justifying whether it was real or shockingly ephemeral.

The feelings Jean attempted to push deep, deep down within himself to remain concealed for the greater good of himself and his team only rebelled against the suppression like hot water bubbling over the brim of a burning pot. Anger suddenly left Jean, sucked out of him by Armin's very gaze, and God did Armin possess a nonpareil talent for removing his negative emotions!

Had Armin wormed his way into analysing Jean's psyche, or become adept at reading the smallest and subtlest of Jean's microexpressions, to uncover the budding romantic feelings for him? Had Armin initially planned to venture into the snow with his friends only to change his mind when Jean announced his distaste?

Jean desperately wanted to delve into that busy brain of his.

But as quickly as that secretive smile and glance had graced Jean's presence, it was gone once again. No plans for tomorrow had been set in stone just yet, so, Jean could do nothing but internally plead to whatever omnipresent force influenced the weather - to continue to cover every inch of grass, and dirt, and gravel, with thick layers of snow, and to keep Armin inside with him, and only him...


Rousing Jean from a deep, deep sleep, a gentle and insistent hand continuously shook him with a subtle rock; not urgent enough for him to become alerted to possible danger, but just irritating enough to, unfortunately, wake him. Jean batted the hand away (with quite impressive precision, considering he never once cracked open his eyes) as languidly as a lazy, sleepy cat before rolling on his side and beginning to doze once more. The annoyance did not cease as fingers began to quickly brush across his ribs, effectively attempting to tickle him.

Languid vexation turned to bubbling rage within his chest, prompting Jean's arm to shoot out from under the covers and capture his pain in the neck. Jean's fingers wrapped around the assailant's wrist - such a bone structure that seemed too lithe and familiar to squeeze with all of his might. Groggily opening his eyes and pulling himself up from the comfortable, warm mattress, wooden bed frame creaking quietly as though audibly begging Jean to return to his rightful place in bed, Jean learned the wrist he had captured belonged to Armin. If the blonde were alarmed, he did not portray it candidly but seemed rather glad to discover Jean was awake.

"Ah, fuck, it's just you..." Jean groaned whilst releasing his wrist before collapsing back onto the bed that welcomed his sour self. He threw an arm over his eyes to block out any excess light that would hurt his eyes - though, none came, due to the current time being the middle of the night. Gradually waking up, and experiencing alertness in his actions and body, Jean realised the interaction had frightened him. His heart thumped deep within his body, throbbing brought upon by blood rushing adrenaline against his ribcage and chest as though to calm his breathing with a steady rhythm.

Armin's intrusion may have caused his fear - a feat of which he was cognizant and of which he was quick to atone for. "Yeah...I didn't mean to scare you, Jean. I'm sorry," he apologised quietly. Remnants of Jean's dream seemed to overwhelm him the moment Armin imparted, dizzying his sense of reality and blinding him like white, foggy breath tumbling from Armin's lips on a cold winter's day...much like the one in his dream (or rather memory from years ago, hidden within the gyri of his brain). Despite Armin's real presence perched expectantly in the middle of his bed, Jean only recalled the blanketed blonde from his dream. A little younger, a little urbane, and ever so finely flirting with the line between friends and lovers, one which they managed to cross shortly after their teammates abandoned them for the snow. Better yet, they were still going strong presently...

It took patience for Armin to overcome his hesitance, for Jean's silence and steady breathing indicated he had probably succumbed to sleep once more. As much as the fear of experiencing Jean's grumpiness kept Armin from taking action, whatever bothered him enough to wake him up in the early hours of the morning clearly trumped this.

"Jean? Are you still awake?" Armin quietly coaxed once more, accompanied by another gentle jostling of the brunette's body. released a long, frustrated sigh in response. "Yes, I'm still awake. What do you want?" His questioning mutter fell from his lips, pulling himself to an upright position once more. Armin's presence was never unwelcomed, but his timing was extremely inconvenient. And to Armin, despite the bleary, grumpy expression on Jean's features (and fairly endearing, too, although Armin would never dare utter such a phrase in order to avoid undue embarrassment), his question came from a place of genuine curiosity and concern.

"I was wondering if I could sleep with you?" Armin solicited hopefully, shuffling forward with wide, blue puppy dog-like eyes.

"Hmm..." Jean acknowledged with a yawn. "Do you mean literally sleep with me, or sex?" Of course, despite his weariness, Jean was cognizant of Armin's request. But, Armin would have to pay the price for prematurely waking him - and the only payment option was to endure a little bit of light-hearted teasing like a capricious feline fiddling with an adorable little mouse. Whether he knew it or not, Armin paid the full price with that embarrassed frown of his whilst adding a complementary tip in the form of a roguish blush shrouded within the navy darkness.

"The literal sense. You'd probably fall asleep if we tried to have sex this early in the morning - just like last time," Armin retaliated without skipping a beat. It seems that he could still be witty despite his chagrin.

Jest and amusement melted into a deep scowl. Jean...kind of deserved that. "What's wrong with your bed?" He retorted in response, gazing over to Armin's abandoned mattress. It was at this moment that Jean realised Armin had his blanket tightly wrapped around his shoulders, tucked underneath his chin so only his blonde head of hair and uncomfortable face peaked out.

"It started snowing a few hours ago and I'm freezing and unable to sleep, and you're usually pretty warm, so..." Armin explained sheepishly, concurrently elucidating his current bundled-up condition. Although Jean was barely fazed by the drop in temperature, he couldn't imagine how Armin felt, especially considering the effort he put into waking Jean in the middle of the night and asking him to sleep with him. Armin never did that! So, the first winters' snow must have overwhelmed him badly.

"I get it. Do whatever you want; I just want to go back to sleep," Jean lackadaisically granted within a muffled yawn. He finally, finally sunk back into bed but not before leaving his arm outstretched, enticing Armin to all but glue himself to Jean to steal his body heat.

"Thank you!" Armin exclaimed, though quietly (without masking his overt enthusiasm) as to not disturb the other sleeping scouts around them. Before snuggling down within the warm sheets with his warm lover, Armin leaned over to drop a grateful, glacé kiss on Jean's cheek, effective enough to scold and rue his momentary bitterness. Only then did Armin slip under the sheets next to Jean. The moment Armin slipped underneath the covers, he did not dare wriggle or fidget too much lest Jean kick him out of the bed and thus, his newfound, comforting warmth. Armin's cheek laid upon Jean's outstretched arm, somewhere between the length of his upper arm, the entire arm curled around his shoulders as an act of acceptance. Encouraged, Armin nestled even closer (if that were possible) with his arms locked around the taller boy's torso and his face practically buried in his t-shirt's soft fabric as though Armin attempted to submerge himself within Jean's warmth.

Sharing a bed - a rather rebellious act - rarely occurred in their younger years where they feared being reprimanded. At this current, solitary, reposeful moment, Jean could not care less about the consequences that may arise with daylight. And, judging by the impossibly happy blonde tessellated with every curve and corner of his own body like a perfectly placed puzzle piece, Armin did not consider the consequences, either.

Winter's icy, invisible blanket around his skin may have caused Armin to shiver, but when inundated with the wonderful warmth only another person could supply, his body sang as happily as nature's beautiful rebirth of spring from winter. Hardened goosebumps slowly smoothing out like snow beginning to deliquesce on the ground, Armin was cognizant to the fact that it would take a while for Jean's calefaction to penetrate to his centre and melt his core.

Jesus, he really was freezing, Jean remarked within his mind, hazy dream-like state instantly lost the moment he felt Armin's coldness, feeling nothing but sympathy for the blonde. Though their bare skins barely brushed against each other, in the interstitial gaps between hems of shirts, waists of pants, and uncovered appendages within the blankets, Armin's icy skin confronted Jean's tepid skin, threatening to cool him down unwantedly instead of heating Armin up. Despite this, it did not take long for drowsiness to recapture Jean once more, pleasantly - and clemently - hypnotised by his minute weight on his arm and his side, and the ungoverned strands of hair (impeccably soft and pleasantly smelling of mild soap from his earlier bath) ever so slightly tickling his nose and his cheek...

"Hey, were you dreaming before?" Armin's soft, inquisitive tone struck the silence as sharply as a prick from a rose's stem, and, consequently, plucking Jean from his dozing state once more. Jean could feel his sticky pupils gazing up towards him, dilated and squashing his bright blue irises; unwavering, relentless, and currently insomniac. With a vexed sigh, and a weakened squeeze around his shoulder (because, really, dawn rapidly approached and a battle between Jean's need to sleep and Armin's inescapable curiosity did not sound pleasant), Jean attempted to shut him up once again.

"I have no idea, Armin. I'm practically half-asleep and I can't recall anything from the past few minutes," Jean mumbled in response hoping Armin would desperately take the hint!

Unfortunately for the brunette, Armin seemed to be blissfully unaware of his boyfriend's sleepy cue to be left alone until morning, or purposefully ignored these cues. Considering Armin was all but incapable of behaving in a pernicious manner towards Jean, he doubted the latter option would explain his actions...hopefully. Eagerly, with energy that should be punishable at this time of morning, Armin turned onto his side, propped up on his elbow, so close so that Jean could feel his warm whisper ghost over his cheek. "You seemed so alert when you initially woke up. I read that if you wake up remembering a dream's events, then you woke up during the dream. Plus, the brain is very alert when you're dreaming. So, you probably were dreaming. What were you dreaming about? Do you remember?" Armin probed once again.

"I don't know, and I don't remember," Jean replied curtly, agonising to himself just how much he'd allow Armin to get away with! He decided enough was enough, and immediately covered Armin's mouth with his hand the moment he heard him draw in a short breath, blocking him from speaking once again. From the assertive contact, Armin must have intuited the seriousness of Jean's tone as he instantly curtailed. In an exhausted tone, Jean implored him once more - and hopefully, for the last time. "Armin; I just want to sleep. If you're not tired, then lie here until you are, or stay up until sunrise. Until then, please be quiet!"

Then, Jean dropped his hand from his mouth, assured that his frustrations had been properly communicated to the blonde, who had obediently snuggled to his side once again. "Yeah, sorry, I should have been more mindful," Armin apologised in a quiet mumble.

Jean did not respond, instead patting his head twice to let him know he felt no anger, nor resentment, towards him, and willing him to finally lie still. Still, after all of Armin's effort, Jean decided to humour him. "If it's that important to you, I dreamt about the first winters' snow we saw when we first began living on the base. You remember that, too, right?" Jean prompted quietly, squeezing him (with affection this time around, realising that despite his frigid body, Armin's warmth managed to somewhat thaw Jean's icy cage of a heart) for a fraction of a second for good measure.

"Yeah, I do...thanks," Armin murmured back, a smile plainly evident in his voice. And despite his energetic questioning mere moments earlier, he drifted off just as easy as the brunette he would share the bed until sunrise.


Sheltered from the cold together like mammals hiding from the piles upon piles of snow, neither of the soldier boys struck a conversation. Jean twiddled his thumbs as topics of conversation, questions of inquisitive nature, and even pathetic jokes he had acquired from Connie or Sasha jumbled together in a mental game of anxious decisions. He wanted to talk, desperately so, but every inhale of breath was immediately surrendered into a hot sigh. Maybe next time...

The air - crisp from cold, oddly fluffy and coolly flaxen reflected from the blue sky and white snow - felt tense as though Jean expected, anticipated, and simultaneously dreaded the conversation steering a certain way, prioritising his (assumedly) one-sided feelings for the blonde. Jean did not consider himself an idiot but rather perceptive at interpreting small smiles or lingering looks as hints that may or may not exist, of course. Still, in an effort to not embarrass himself or ruin the friendship they built over time, Jean kept his mouth shut, his thoughts to himself, and continue to remain silent until he repaired his dilapidated courage, broken by hesitance.

"Everyone's been outside for a long time. It's a surprise that they can withstand the cold for as long as they have been," Armin spontaneously interrupted the silence. Glancing at Armin out of the corner of his eye revealed that he had not so much as glanced at him but remained trained on the crackling fireplace.

"Yeah..." Relaxing, tension immediately releasing from his shoulders, Jean could not help but feel grateful that Armin decided to speak first. The favour must be returned, however, but Jean considered this feat easy, gaining a small surge of confidence to continue. "You, um, mentioned when talking to Eren the other day that you get sick whenever you played in the snow when you were younger. How sick do you usually get?"

"I usually come down with pneumonia - more so when I was really young, though. I try to avoid going in the snow as much as possible here, especially with the limited resources or medical supplies we have," Armin rationalised. "I'd hate to waste the supplies only for someone else to need them more than I do later down the track."

Why Armin emphasised a higher value on another's hypothetical illness or injury over his own probable malaise Jean would never know. In his mind, if Armin desperately needed the resources, then he should receive them immediately as opposed to assuming another person would be condign in the future. His attitude bordered admirable - in a way that forced a smile to stretch across his face from the sheer Armin-like sentiment of his assertion the brunette had grown to adore.

Still, to Jean, and most likely to everybody in their squad, he did not need to fret about deserving treatment. Remaining out of the snow was definitely the smartest option to avoid the snow whenever possible to keep him as healthy as possible.

"Fair. It must be frustrating," Jean empathised.

"It is. That reminds me: why aren't you out with everybody? I'm sure Sasha and Connie would appreciate another playmate," Armin coaxed with amusement, smiling as he noticed the two dash past the window as if on cue.

"I just didn't feel like it," Jean feigned with a listless shrug. Afraid that any hidden intentions were easily decipherable on his face, Jean kept his eyes firmly focused on the fireplace in front of him.

"Mm, I understand. Still - it's really nice to have some company," he mentioned, and although his kind words were probably anything but intimate, that did not stop the warmth from filling Jean's chest and spreading throughout the entirety of his body, even more so than the fireplace's heat. Nevertheless, as they settled into a comfortable silence, fear overtook Jean once again, too afraid to strike up a conversation, cursed with the words spiralling internally within his mind. One day he might be brave enough to divulge his hidden feelings, but for now, Jean remained stubbornly content with the brief moment they spent together...

...while the equally as stubborn blonde agonised over the silence and repeatedly asked himself whether Jean was completely and utterly dense for his lack of intuiting his well-contrived hints towards his affections, or whether he needed to up the ante. Whatever Armin's decision came to be, he offered a counter wish to keep the snow around for as long as possible in order to buy himself a little more time. After all, who knows when he, or Jean (if he decided to work up the courage to finally make the first move), would relinquish their stubbornness?