In the very early morning, Jean and Armin could hear Jean's phone going off right next to their heads. An effort to burrow under the blankets and pillows was quickly rendered futile. They also tried to let whoever was calling give up. That didn't work, either.

Growling out of frustration and tiredness, Jean finally popped his head back out and grabbed his phone. He answered it with a slurred and groggy "Hello?"

Armin kept his eyes closed and tried ignoring the conversation. He couldn't hear the person calling, but Jean was annoyed at having to talk to someone at two in the morning.

"Yeah...Uh-huh...Yeah, hang on." Jean pulled himself out of bed and walked into the kitchen. The sound of the outside light being clicked on was heard. "Just leave it by the door, then. I'll get it when you come here."

Then he hung up. Jean didn't move for a few moments, staring at his phone, before going to sit down at the tiny kitchen table.

"Who was on the phone?" Armin sleepily asked from the other room.

"Oh, just Marco. He's bringing some stuff over that he figured we might need."

Armin squinted in confusion and irritation. "At this hour?"

"Yeah. Something about having to visit his grandmother this week, he won't be home. He wanted to deliver some extra things here before he left later today."

Jean rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Guess I ain't getting any more sleep then, huh? Good thing today's another inservice day..."

...

"How far along did you say you were, Armin?"

Along with Eren and Mikasa later that morning, Armin was sitting on a park bench eating an ice cream cone. A few feet away, Jean was at the cart paying for everyone's treat, along with his own.

The question got him to look up at them, with some melted strawberry ice cream on his upper lip.

"Huh? Oh..." He placed a hand onto his belly and gently pressed against it. "Twenty-six weeks, I think, according to Doctor Hanji."

As he was pressing against his stomach, he could feel the baby kick in response. Eren saw this, and blew a raspberry directed specifically at Jean.

"I thought a pregnancy with a human was different than with a foal."

Not liking that, Armin frowned and glowered at him. "Eren, please! He was nice enough to get you and Mikasa ice cream. It'd be nice if you cut back on the insults."

Mikasa did and said nothing to stop Eren from his verbal barbs toward Jean. It in fact looked as though she found them somewhat amusing; a tiny grin was on her face behind her chocolate fudge bar.

For Jean, he just tried to ignore Eren, and sat down next to Armin.

In turn, Armin moved so his feet were resting in Jean's lap; he wanted to get across what he wanted now without saying another word. Luckily, Jean seemed to know what he was trying to say; he stuck his ice cream bar into his mouth and removed Armin's sandals (actually Jean's sandals. He just said to keep them, even after the baby was born).

Without looking up at Eren and Mikasa, he started pressing his thumbs against one of Armin's once again swollen feet. As he did this, Armin grabbed hold of his bar, and held it up so he could take bites from it while his hands were busy.

For obvious reasons, Eren didn't like watching this. As Jean was massaging Armin's feet, he kept making gagging noises and mimicked forced vomiting. By now, even Mikasa was starting to get annoyed with him. Silently, she put a hand over his mouth, and shushed him.

Jean and Armin were then able to happily enjoy Armin getting a much-needed footrub, without any more unwanted commentary.

...

Dinner that night was just TV dinners and leftover lasagna (both courtesy of Marco). Neither of them really minded, though. It satisfied Armin's craving for cheese, if nothing else. He was consuming the remaining gravy from his Salisbury steak when Jean scooted over and put an arm across his shoulders.

"Hm?" Jean held him more closely as the both of them were watching whatever syndicated program was on TV Land.

"Do your tits need draining again?" Jean asked of him. "You haven't asked me to do that for a while now."

Armin shook his head. "I should be all right for now. I'll let you know when they start feeling full again, though."

"Okay then." There was some quiet watching of The Andy Griffith Show, before Jean started talking again during a commercial break:

"...I'm sorry, Armin."

Raising an eyebrow in confusion, Armin looked over at him to see what precisely he meant.

"...What for?"

Jean exhaled deeply through his nose. "Everything, I guess. If it weren't for me wanting to get some action six and a half months ago, you'd probably be on your way to getting a college degree by now or...something." He looked down at his plate, which held nothing else now besides some leftover sauce.

"But now? Thanks to me, you're sixteen years old, pregnant, and married. So I think it's safe to say you're not going to amount to very much now."

While he listened to all this, Armin lay his hand over Jean's, and gently squeezed his fingers.

"Whether or not that's true, you did do something a lot of teen dads usually don't." He weaved his fingers with Jean's now. "And that's take responsibility.

"It was a rather...unexpected method, yes, but still."

Armin squeezed Jean's hand again. Now he could say how he felt. "Either way, I can't thank you enough for not running off on me." Jean stared at him for a short while, before giving him a gentle grin.

...

It was during an unexpected nap the next day that Armin became aware of some loud banging noises. He lifted his head up and pulled off the worksheet stuck to his face before looking out the window.

Outside, he could see Jean squatting near the ground, hammering against a large piece of wood. A few other tools were scattered all around him.

"Jean?" He asked as he came out of the house to see what exactly was happening. Looking up, Jean stopped and stood back up to look at him better.

"Oh, hey. I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"You actually did, but that's not the point. What are you doing out here, anyway? I thought the neighbors might report us for a disturbance."

Now, Jean looked relatively sheepish, hiding the hammer that he'd been using behind his back and digging the front of his shoe into the ground.

"I was gonna keep it a secret 'til it was finished, but I'm almost done putting it together anyway, so..."

He stepped aside to let Armin take a better look. Once Armin saw what precisely he'd been working on, he gasped softly and felt his cheeks flush red.

"Yeah, I had to do a woodworking project for shop class, and one of the guys at work said I could use some wood to make stuff with, so..."

Armin was still taken aback by what Jean had chosen to do. Stepping closer, he couldn't stop staring at the cradle Jean was in the process of putting together.

"Oh, Jean..." He murmured, clearly touched.

"Yeah, Mister Jinn and the other students kind of picked on me for it. Said something about trying to get you to blow me, but...

"Also, since we don't really have a whole lot of room in the house, I tried going the, uh, 'Amish' route."

Armin reached down to run a finger across the wood panel in front of him, a gentle smile on his face.

"Well, I hope you get an A," he said while standing back up. Then he hugged him. "Do you want a blowjob now or later?"

Now it was Jean's turn to blush. "Um...Let's go with later. I'd like to get this finished first."

...

In Spanish class the next day, Jean had tried his best to keep in tune with Miss Dreyse's lesson. Now, in study hall, he attempted to recall everything she'd taught the class. Thankfully, it wasn't too difficult; he could write down one-word answers.

Most of it pertained to what all of his favorite things were.

Comida: tortilla.

It didn't look right to call an omelet that, but Miss Dreyse insisted that that was the right word.

Color: azul.

Animal: ...caballo.

He didn't really have an actual favorite animal. It stung just to put that down, but it was better than leaving the space blank.

Clase: Nada.

Persona(s):

It was to this one that Jean hesitated. No matter what he wanted to put down, it would feel like ass-kissing. In the end, he decided to put down all three (it did give leniency for multiple people).

Mi mama, mi esposo, mi mejor amigo.

Hopefully Miss Dreyse would take that as an acceptable answer.

He was scanning over his answers when he felt something hit the back of his head. Looking behind him now, he realized it was a paper airplane. A quick glance around the room showed him that Eren had thrown it.

Of course, Eren played dumb and just waggled his fingers at Jean, grinning at him a little too sweetly. Jean, to say the least, wasn't too happy about that.

It got worse when he read it and was confronted by the Spanish insult:

Eres un follador feo.

Jean wished that for once, he could defy Armin and give Eren a much desired black eye. But his other desire to be a good husband won out over that. In the end, and to Eren's great surprise, Jean simply crumpled the paper up and chucked it into the garbage can.

...

After school, Jean ended up extremely tired all of a sudden. He attributed it to trying to balance school, work, and impending fatherhood all at once. Whatever the reason was, it resulted in Armin having to carry him (or at least try to) over to their mattress. Jean didn't even try to protest as he was covered up with one of their bedsheets. As soon as his head was on the pillow, he was out like a light.

Making certain that he was comfortable, Armin leaned in and pressed a kiss onto Jean's temple.

"I think you need a break, Jean," he whispered. "Not even you can go on full speed forever without resting.

"And God knows you deserve some relaxation anyway."

Armin had just gotten back to his feet when he heard knocking at the door. Making certain Jean was still asleep, he padded over and opened it.

"Miss Kirstein!" He said in a loud whisper when he saw Jean's mother. "I...I wasn't expecting to see you today."

Jean's mother smiled, and stepped in. "I thought perhaps it'd be a good idea to bring some extra spending money over for the two of you. I doubt you'd want it in the bank or on a gift card, so..."

She pulled out a stack of cash, and handed it over to him. When Armin saw there were at least a couple of C-notes in the bunch, he gasped softly.

"I hope that can help with the rent?"

Unable to know what to say, Armin nodded, tears in his eyes. He couldn't help but step forward and hug his mother-in-law, so utterly grateful for the financial help. He then looked over at Jean, who hadn't stirred at any point during the conversation.

"I'm sure he'll be relieved for the help, too."