Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

With a brainless whimper, Jean flops onto his back next to Marco, the both of them soaked with sweat and panting heavily, and he pushes his sweaty hair back against his head as he murmurs, “Jesus Fuck, Marco…”

Marco’s got his arm flopped over his eyes, his chest rising far and falling fast, hitching only for his weak groan of agreement.

Their air conditioning is broken, and the heat index is something like 105, but it’s their first day off in a week and they had been nothing but determined to fuck all goddamn day. Turns out, though, lazy morning sex in the already boiling noon heat combined with the humidity their twisting, sweaty bodies tend to generate translates more into ‘kindly get off of me’ rather than ‘kindly get me off.’

Stubbornness and rising annoyance quickly transformed a sweet, slow lovemaking into the kind of fucking that would make a porn studio some serious bank.

“Dude,” Jean continues, his breath still coming fast and difficult in the sex-thick air, “I seriously fucking love you.”

Marco chuckles, bending a knee up in the pursuit of not having any two parts of his body touching. “D’you love me or the thing I do with the—” He makes a vague but incredibly filthy hand motion, which gives Jean a serious case of the giggles.

“Both. Absolutely both. But you more so. D’you know you grin when you come really hard?”

Peering over at Jean, Marco laughs, the sound sweet and still breathless. “You have told me before, yeah. I think it’s mostly when you do your best to fuck my orgasm straight out of me.”

“Like that?” Jean stick his tongue out, a wide grin spread across his flushed face.

“So much, Jean. So much.”

The blonde hums, lacing his fingers behind his head. Their wobbling ceiling fan does exactly fuck-all for the temperature in the room, as usual. Jean gives an irate sigh after a while, ruffling his still-damp hair in a way that makes cowlicks crop up something fierce. “I would totally make out with you right now,” he grumbles, “If not for the fact that I think the amount of sweat I’m exuding may actually kill me.”

“I know,” Marco groans, shifting in the destroyed sheets. “We could go cuddle and make out in a cold shower?”

“See, I would,” Jean says, stretching his arms above his head. “But I also really wanna suck you off, and cold showers mean shrinkage.”

Marco rolls his eyes. “I thought you wanted to make out with me, dope.”

“Your dick is part of you.” Jean wiggles his eyebrows like an ass, swinging his legs out of bed and somehow managing to stand without his knees knocking and turning to jelly. “If you’re jealous, we could just make out until you’re begging me to go down on you.”

Raising his eyebrows, Marco grins again. Can’t turn down that offer.

The cool water of the shower definitely helps with the whole angry-sweaty-man-aggression thing, enough that Jean can pin Marco against the chilly wall and press as much of their bodies together as possible while he does that thing with his tongue that always makes Marco hard so fast he nearly passes out.

Marco swears up and down that they’re gonna call the landlord today, after this, definitely, because he wants to cuddle and watch a movie, and Jean agrees around his thick mouthful of cock in a way that makes Marco see stars.

Chapter Text

“Mm,” Jean mumbles against Marco’s shoulder, jostling him slightly in his attempts to get his attention. Marco, however, is half-unconscious on the couch beside him, curled lazily around a pillow. The movie they’d chosen randomly on Netflix is boring as shit, and as grown-ass men with grown-ass needs, movie cuddles had turned into naptime.

“Wha’,” Marco murmurs, wiggling onto his back so he can nuzzle at his boyfriend’s chin. “Anyone die yet?”

“Dunno.” Jean moves his deadarm under Marco’s neck and wraps himself around him, trying not to push them both off the couch. “Was dreamin’.”

Marco hums happily and reaches over to slide his palm against Jean’s hip, running his fingers just under the rucked-up hem of his shirt. “’Bout what?”

Jean sighs, blinking consciousness into his being. “Don’t remember…” He runs his hand under the loose edge of the giant amorphous sweater Marco’s wearing. It’s also the only thing he’s wearing. Slightly glassy hazel eyes trail helplessly up the long, irresistible line of Marco’s dark thighs, a path they’ve wandered a thousand times and will never tire of.

Letting loose an almighty yawn, Marco stretches, the edge of the sweater riding up in just the kind of way that makes Jean’s mouth dry and whatever blood was powering his half-awake brain move rapidly south.

“Oh, I remember now,” Jean mumbles, not even being subtle about jabbing Marco in the thigh with his now-hard cock. “Dreamin’ bout that time you fucked me in that sweater.”

Marco’s awake now. He grins, wriggling his hips just enough to ride the loose fabric up higher, and the way Jean’s eyes kind of blow out with want is still breathtaking even after years together. “Mm,” he sighs, shifting his hand so that his fingers slide under the edge of Jean’s boxers. “You mean when I sat you in my lap and fucked you over my desk?”

“More like,” Jean murmurs, leaning down to nip at Marco’s earlobe. “You made me ride you in your chair and smacked my ass whenever I lost the rhythm.”

“Call it focus training,” Marco laughs, rolling to face Jean enough to pull his shirt up over his head. “Look how great your attention span is now.” He tosses the shirt somewhere. The rough hum that vibrates his chest as he runs broad hands up Jean’s pale chest, the contrast in their skin fucking perfect, the way he’s devouring Jean with a lopsided grin… Marco really fucking knows how to get to his boyfriend.

Jean presses their lips together, one hand coming up to curl around the back of Marco’s neck to pull him closer. Humming softly, Marco slides his bare thigh between Jean’s and grinds right up against the hardness tenting at his boxers. Jean gasps against Marco’s lips, shivering as he unashamedly grinds down against him, and he pulls back just enough to rip the blob sweater off of his perfect beautiful boyfriend before he presses against him again and fucks his tongue into his mouth.

They gasp against each other, pressing and rubbing and caressing in ways long memorized and never exhausted, and when Marco shifts them so that he’s got Jean’s boxers yanked down and his thighs spread over Jean’s lap, the blonde moves to grind their cocks together almost on instinct.

Lazy kisses turn needy and messy the harder they thrust against each other, the movie playing near-mute in the background, and even though they’ve got all the time in the world, when Jean’s pulling back and squeezing his eyes shut with a loud moan and Marco’s watching him and gasping his name, they can’t help but pull at each other more and more frantically.

Marco comes first, surprisingly, mostly because Jean’s so close and he wants Marco so bad, wants to hear his voice louder and stronger, so he pulls a cheap move and grinds hard up against his boyfriend just as his hand comes down on his fucking perfect ass with a great, resounding slap. Marco’s caught thoroughly unprepared. His eyes roll shut, and his hips jerk, and he cries Jean’s name as he makes a bigger fucking mess on his boyfriend than he already was. It’s more than enough to pull Jean over with him, his stomach tensing and his teeth sinking into warm, flushed skin just in time to muffle his whines.

They somehow manage to catch their breath, Marco’s shaking arms supporting him above his still-dazed boyfriend. He sits up after a moment and grins widely.

“If you stand up, you’re gonna end up looking like a come Jackson Pollock.”

Jean wrinkles his nose, staring down at the mess of precome and jizz coating his pale abdomen. “Kinda already does.”

“Now,” Marco says, his expression a bad imitation of seriousness. “Should I get you a paper towel, or should I take a picture?”

Jean rolls his eyes. “You have so many pictures of me with come all over me, dude. Surprised you haven’t made a damn photo album.”

“What color should it be?”

“Same color as your ass when I’m done handing it to you. Come on, babe, it’s gonna get all goopy and weird.”

Marco cackles, but he acquiesces, and if Jean nearly breaks his neck craning it over the edge of the couch to watch the reddening imprint of his hand on his boyfriend’s ass sway into the kitchen, he certainly doesn’t say anything about it.

Chapter Text

It’s hot as fucking balls. An inferno sweltering wet and humid everywhere the sun touches, the air so thick with it that it’s hard to breathe.

That’s why Jean and Marco have been lurking in Jean’s basement all day, watching cartoons on the TV with the lights out and in varying states of nudity, depending on who’s home. Jean can’t wait until they head off to college in a month and a half, if you ask him, but Marco always gets that little obvious twinge of anticipatory homesickness. It’s very clear from their stances on the matter who has one obnoxious older sister and who has a horde of adorable identical baby siblings.

Marco’s family is seriously afflicted with twins, and Jean has wistfully dreamt more than once of what life would be like were there two of his bashful beautiful boyfriend.

Those thoughts are more often than not immediately followed by the rapid destruction of half the tissues in the house. Let it never be said that Jean’s thirst is not alive and thriving.

Jean grumbles, pulling his snapback off and tossing it on the end table, ignoring the audible sigh of relief from the other end of the couch.

“Hey, Marco,” Jean murmurs, tossing his shirtless boyfriend a glance. “Did you ever hear Bitch come home?”

Marco sighs and gives Jean an exasperated smile. “No, I didn’t hear Hitch come home. Why?”

“No, dude, she is Bitch until next Wednesday for reasons we are not discussing again.”

“Be nice, Jean, her name makes her such an easy target. Is it really that bad that she let slip to her friends that—”

“I will suck your dick if you never finish that sentence ever again.”

Marco flushes bright red, but he laughs loudly, giving in to his grumpy lover’s demands. He runs a hand through his hair and makes to pay attention to Adventure Time again. He can definitely feel Jean’s eyes boring holes in the side of his head, though. “Yes, Jean?”

After a while of silence, Marco’s starting to fidget. He flicks his gaze back to Jean, who’s just staring, staring, until finally the blonde murmurs, “’S hot down here. You should take your pants off.”

It’s not hot in the basement. Not since the air conditioning kicked in. “You’re not worried someone’ll come home?”

“I’ll go lock the door.”

“… O-okay.”

Jean vaults off the couch, already grinning, and he takes the stairs two at a time so he can shove the basement door shut and turn the lock. By the time he comes back to the couch, Marco’s lying across it, and he’s got his pants unbuttoned, unzipped, and his dick is filling out his underwear damn perfectly. Jean licks his lips and crawls over to him, dipping his head to run the tip of his nose teasingly up the arching bulge Marco’s hardening cock presents. The brunette shivers, reaching down to scratch his nails through the shaved hair on the back of Jean’s head. “Fuck, Jean…”

Settling between Marco’s sprawled legs, Jean lets his eyes trail up his boyfriend’s hot, incredibly tanned body until he hits his lust-dark eyes. He grins, reaching up and palming at Marco through his boxers. “Don’t listen too good, huh? Wanted you to take them off.” Jean wriggles closer, spreading his knees and arching his back so his own rising hardness doesn’t grind too nicely against the couch, before he leans in and mouths wetly up green fabric stretched tight by Marco’s dick. Marco moans, his voice unrestrained in the cool air, and arches up against the sensation.

When he moves to shove his boxers down, pale hands grip his wrists and pin them back down to the couch. “J-Jean…”

“If this is what you give me,” the blonde murmurs quietly, pausing to drag his tongue up the concealed curve of Marco’s cock, “This is what I get, hmm? I can work with this…” He grins wolfishly at the whine his boyfriend gives him, and at the way Marco arches and wiggles his hips, leaning up to nip at one of his sharp hip bones.

“Oh, damn,” Marco breathes, one of his knees twitching up and nudging Jean’s ribs. His leg always twitches like this when Jean teases his hips, an obvious erogenous zone they’d discovered together a good while ago. “Jean, you’re such a t-tease.”

Blinking widely, Jean tilts his head and pokes his lower lip out to (badly) conceal his smirk. “You want me to stop?”

“Nah,” Marco sighs, squeezing Jean’s hands before moving one back into his boyfriend’s hair. “Just don’t tease me too much, yeah? I’ve been so nice to you lately.”

“Mm, I guess so,” Jean replies, trying honestly to think of a time recently when Marco’s been evil and coming up with nothing. Well, except the drunken half-handjob in Annie’s pool a few weeks ago, but Jean had repaid that in kind by grinding on Marco at that stupid basement show and making him come in his pants. Jean thought it was hilarious, Marco was less than pleased about having to go commando the rest of the night.

“Hey, space cadet,” Marco laughs, reaching down to run his thumbs gently over Jean’s cheekbones. “What planet did you land on?”

“Whatever planet has Kirk’s green alien ladies,” Jean says with a grin, ducking his head and turning to mouth obscenely up his boyfriend’s still-hard cock. Marco breathes out a low moan at that, teeth digging into his lip at the way Jean watches through his eyelashes and soaks Marco’s underwear with his saliva. “Found some hot green alien bod.”

"God, you’re weird,” Marco says as he tilts his head back, jumping when Jean sucks at the head of his cock. “H-hey…”

“I know, I know,” Jean mumbles, moving his mouth down enough to just barely press his teeth against Marco through his boxers, more for the show than for the actual biting. “Still too sensitive, yeah?”

Marco nods. Jean licks his lips and slides his palms up his boyfriend’s hips, up his stomach, over his ribs.

“Guess I just gotta get you worked up then, huh?”

Shivering, Marco bites his lip and watches Jean drag his nails slowly down his tense chest, leaving faint red lines over his twitching stomach, until he slides his fingers under the band of Marco’s underwear and peels the soaked fabric down enough to let his aching cock escape its confines.

“Damn, Marco,” the blonde whispers, wrapping his fingers gently around the thick base and tugging enough to just barely pull back Marco’s foreskin. “So wet already.” Marco shudders again, fingers digging into the couch cushions as he swallows. Jean flicks his gaze back up to him, his eyes dark and hot as he slowly strokes Marco.

He used to be embarrassed about the fact that Jean gets to him so bad that he’s usually sloppy with precome before his boyfriend even has to do anything. Then it turned out that Jean absolutely takes it as a compliment, and Jean loves a good compliment. And Marco’s copious precome. And Marco, really.

Jean gives a particularly good flick of his wrist, drinking in the brunette’s sharp gasp just as he catches Marco’s thick drip of precome on his tongue in a way that kind of makes Marco’s head spin.

“F-fuck.”

“Yeah,” Jean agrees, licking his lips. He squints, though, considering something as his strokes slow to a stop. “Hey, Marco?”

“Ngh?”

Hesitating, Jean lets go of Marco and sits up, and when he scoots closer and into his boyfriend’s lap, Marco looks up at him and wraps his arms around his thin waist. Jean doesn’t continue right away, instead licking his lips again and kissing Marco breathless. Marco moans into him, hands sliding down to grab and paw at Jean’s ass. The blonde whimpers, nipping at Marco’s bottom lip and wiggling in his lap.

“You okay, Jean?”

Jean nods, pulling back just enough to stare down at Marco. “D’you, uh.” Jean clears his throat, ignoring the way Marco’s eyebrows shoot up in mild concern. “D’youwannafuckme?”

It takes a minute for the jumbled mess to register, but when it does, Marco gives this low, stuttered hum. He’d fingered Jean before, pretty recently, and the way he falls apart on Marco’s fingers had haunted the brunette’s wettest dreams ever since. He could only imagine what fucking Jean would be like. Not trusting his voice, Marco nods, fingers squeezing and palming at Jean’s ass more firmly now.

He crawls back out of Marco’s lap, though, and slinks over to the cupboard, rifling impatiently through all the random shit that’s stuffed in there before he bounds back over proudly with a bottle of baby oil. Marco laughs and hauls Jean back into his lap, kissing him soundly before taking the bottle from him. “What happened to the lube?”

“It’s at your house, remember?”

“Mm, oh yeah…” Marco puts the bottle to the side and runs his hands up Jean’s shirt, sliding his warm fingers over as much of his boyfriend’s sweet body as he can as he pushes up his shirt and tugs it off. Jean kisses him again, brief and bitey, before he flops down onto the couch and gracelessly yanks off his shorts.

Commando. Goddamn. Marco groans and slides between Jean’s legs to kiss him deeply, their tongues tangling, and when he pulls back again Jean curls after him with a soft whine. Unable to hold back a grin, Marco swats Jean on the ass and mumbles, “Roll over. Ass up.” The way Jean shudders at that tests Marco’s near-infinite patience, especially once he does roll over, and he spreads his pale thighs and arches his ass out to Marco and peers over his shoulder. Marco bites his lip, unable to resist feeling Jean up just a little more.

His hands are big, tanned dark from the summer sun, and his long fingers wrap around his boyfriend’s weedy thighs so that he can drag his palms up slowly, slowly. His thumbs sliding firmly up Jean’s sensitive inner thighs make the blonde gasp, already shaking, and by the time Marco’s hands are squeezing and groping at Jean’s ass he’s already flushed dark, cock hard and dripping, muscles tense and twitching.

“You’re so hot, Jean… wanna make you feel so good.”

They both sigh at the loss of Marco’s warm hands, but he reaches over and grabs the oil again, watching Jean’s face carefully. Jean just wiggles his hips at him.

The oil is insanely slick, and it sloshes out fast over Marco’s palm, faster than he’d expected. He does the first thing he can think of. He reaches out and smears the great messy excess over Jean’s entrance, both surprising Jean and grossing him out, but Marco just laughs at him and reaches down to put the bottle on the floor.

“Lube’s way better,” Jean grouses into a pillow, shifting at the oil dripping down over his balls and the insides of his thighs. “Should just carry it with you.”

“Oh yeah?” Marco sits behind Jean, resting his dry hand gently on the blonde’s hip. “Why am I the designated lube guy?”

“You wear looser pants,” he replies, turning to look over his shoulder again. “More inconspicuous.”

“True.” Marco reaches out and trails slick knuckles through the dripping oil, tracing up slowly with two fingers. “That’d be good, I think. Then we could do this wherever we want.” Jean shivers, the reaction strengthening as Marco’s fingers slide firmly over his entrance. “Coulda given you what you wanted at that dumb basement show.”

“Y-you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Jean mumbles, his cheeks bright red. “’S that what made you come in your pants? Thinkin’ about fuckin’ me?”

Blinking slowly, Marco flicks his dark gaze up to Jean’s just as he presses the tip of one finger inside of him. He nods, Jean’s mouth running dry at his candor, and says, “Yeah, ‘cause the way you were grinding on me made my dick rub all between your cheeks. Felt good.” Jean whines, wriggling his hips, and his lips part on a needy sigh when Marco sinks his finger in up to the knuckle. He wastes no time in thrusting slowly, spreading oil around and inside Jean, and when he crooks his finger toward Jean’s stomach, the blonde shivers and moans, fingers digging into his pillow.

“’S good, Marco… ‘s damn good.”

“Mm,” Marco hums, shifting closer. “Want more?”

“Y-yeah, c’mon.” Jean’s mouth drops open on a wanton moan when Marco slides a second finger into him alongside the first. He thrusts a little faster, a little harder, eating up the way Jean’s hips rock back into his hand and his eyes squeeze shut. He makes sure to curl his fingers on every thrust, even as he picks up his pace further and fucks Jean on his fingers in a way that leaves the blonde breathless. “M-Marco, oh fuck…”

Marco swallows, coming to kneel behind Jean, and he tests new waters by slowing and sliding a third finger into his boyfriend. Jean twitches, a whine escaping him, but before Marco can stop to ask if he’s okay, Jean’s already wriggling back to take his fingers in deep.

God, Jean fucking loves this. Marco licks his dry lips at the realization, spreading his fingers with newfound urgency in his efforts to open Jean up enough to take him. “J-Jean…” Marco leans over, trying to see Jean’s brightly-flushed face as he buries his needy little whimpers in the pillow. “Jean, you okay? C-can I—”

“God, yeah, Marco,” Jean arches his back, his cock dripping precome onto the couch, before he opens his eyes to look up at Marco again. “Come on, I wanna feel you.”

Marco groans, pausing to reward his insanely hot boyfriend with quick, firm circles against his sweet spot, before he pulls his fingers out of the gasping blonde to smear oil over his aching cock. He pulls his foreskin back over the head, shivering as he does so, and lets the oil mix with his own dripping precome as he slicks himself up.

Jean spreads his thighs, already moving to bite at his pillow in preparation. Marco pauses, his cock sliding over Jean’s entrance, and he delays for just a moment longer to lean down against his boyfriend and kiss him sweetly on the cheek. Jean hums contently, visibly relaxing before he lets the pillow drop from his teeth and kisses Marco back.

Waiting until Jean’s relaxed, his breath short again and his hips rocking back against Marco’s cock, the brunette gives Jean a parting kiss and leans back to look down at where his cock is riding hard all along Jean’s entrance. He reaches down to grab the base, keeping himself steady as he slides the soaked head against Jean with a shuddering moan. Feels ridiculous. Kind of makes him wonder what it’d feel like to slick up Jean’s thin thighs with oil and slide his dick between them.

He wraps his hand more firmly around his arousal, forcing himself to focus, and when he pushes again, he feels Jean give under him, and Marco’s eyes roll back at the feeling.

The entire slick press into Jean has Marco gasping for air against his boyfriend’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut, his dry hand gripping Jean’s pale hip in a desperate attempt to ground himself. It feels amazing. When he bottoms out, when his hips hit Jean’s ass and the blonde trembles under him, Marco wrestles with his breath and with his willpower to not just start ramming into Jean right off, because his ass is so tight and so hot and so fucking good that it’s threatening to shut his brain off altogether.

Swallowing thickly, Marco forces his eyes open again to check on Jean.

Jean’s got a white-knuckled grip on his pillow, his shoulders shaking and his breaths short and labored. Marco, worried, peppers little kisses along his pale shoulder and takes some of his control back. “You okay, babe? Does it h-hurt?”

A rapid shake of Jean’s head. Marco runs his clean hand through Jean’s sweaty hair, attempting to soothe him. “Don’t wanna hurt you, Jean… tell me when, okay, talk to me…”

A thick whine escapes the pillow, worrying Marco further, until Jean arches his back tight enough to pull a few inches off Marco’s cock. Then he sinks back against him with a loud, gasping moan.

Holy shit.

Marco really hopes that’s the go-ahead, because goddamn. He starts slow, easy, rolling his hips into Jean with gasping, shaking moans and barely-restrained control. It’s so good. So fucking good. He slides inside Jean easily, even as tight as his body holds him, and when Marco rests his sweaty forehead against Jean’s shoulder and gasps, he can’t help but pull back a little farther and push back in a little deeper.

“J-Jean… Jean, feels so good, babe…” Marco gasps into Jean’s skin and shivers, biting his lip. “You’re so tight, feels amazing… does it feel good, Jean? D’you like it?”

Jean trembles, breaths short from being buried in the pillow, and Marco can’t stand that he’s hiding from him, so he reaches up to push the pillow away gently. “Jean?”

“P-please,” comes the shaking reply, Jean’s fingers unwilling to give up his hiding place. “P-please fuck me, M-Marco, please.” The words send a thrill through Marco’s gut, but it’s not enough to remove his concern yet. He continues his slow, easy pace and his efforts to find Jean’s face.

“Why’re you hiding, love? L-let me see you, please? I wanna see your face, hear your noises, Jean, please?” Jean shakes his head rapidly, but when Marco makes to pull out, Jean shoves the pillow off the couch and lamely attempts to hide his face in his hands. He lets Marco ease him out of it, though, and god the dark flush and the way he bites his lip and the way his eyes nearly cross whenever Marco bottoms out inside him… fuck. “Why’re you hiding?”

Jean huffs, and then he whines, rocking back onto Marco’s cock. “F-feels so good. ‘M—fuck—‘m drooling.”

Groaning low in his throat, Marco does his best to mouth along Jean’s neck. “God, Jean, you know I love that…”

Jean reaches back with one hand and buries his fingers in Marco’s hair as he whimpers, back arching tight. “M-Marco, Marco, it’s s-so good, you’re so good…” With his face no longer stuffed in a pillow, Marco has an easier time believing Jean, believing that he’s enjoying himself, but he still holds himself to this same stuttering, forgiving pace, just in case. It’s so good, though, it’s becoming hard to hold back. Marco moans hot against Jean’s ear, whispering filthy praises to him.

“You’re so t-tight around me, Jean, you have no idea how g-good you feel right now. You’re so good. So amazing, Jean, god I can feel it when I hit a place you like ‘cause you squeeze my dick… d’you feel good, baby? Is it good?”

“M-M-Marco, fuck,” Jean gasps, rutting back into Marco’s thrusts in response to the brunette’s sweet praise. “Fuck, please, Marco? P-please f-fuck me…”

Burying his face in Jean’s hair, Marco grinds up teasingly hard into Jean, the movement making both of them moan. “D-don’t wanna go too hard, m-might hurt you…” He nuzzles Jean again, then leans down to nip sharply at Jean’s earlobe. “Don’t think I can k-keep my cool if I go faster.”

Jean trembles, thighs shaking helplessly against the slow, torturous pleasure Marco’s dick is threatening to break him with, and when he turns to stare up at his boyfriend with this broken, pleading face, Marco’s control breaks. He can’t help it. He murmurs sweetness into Jean’s ear for a moment, kisses it, and when his hands fall to Jean’s bony hips, Marco gives himself over to it.

He speeds up quickly, pulls back farther and fucks Jean harder, and when he adjusts Jean’s hips just so and starts pulling the blonde back hard onto his cock, Jean’s seeing fucking stars. There’s no pillow to mute his cries now, no shyness hiding his face, so when Jean throws his head back with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut, Marco moans deep and desperate against him.

Marco’s weight presses into Jean, his hips bucking hard and helpless as he cries out against Jean’s shoulder, his breathless mumbles a series of “so good, Jean, so fucking perfect, fuck—”

Between his wordless gasps and his needy cries, Jean’s no better, sobbing, “M-Marco, Marco you’re so good, Marco right there right there feels so good, b-babe oh fuck your cock’s ‘mazing, s-so good, b-baby I l-love you, I love you please f-f-fuck me,” and Marco realizes right around Jean’s shaky wail of harder more baby please that Jean’s really fucking loud, but there’s no fucking way he’s stopping now, not with the way Jean’s body shakes around his cock and the way his hips buck back into Marco’s uneven thrusts.

He does the next best thing.

Somehow prying one white-knuckled grip off of Jean’s hip, Marco brings his fingers up and shoves two of them in Jean’s mouth. Fuck, he really is drooling. “Suck,” he growls, sounding more forceful than he’d meant, and Jean does god bless him.

Marco’s close.

He’s so fucking close, he can feel it building and he can hear the wet slap of their hips as he pounds his cock into his helpless boyfriend, so he lets himself groan low in his throat right in Jean’s ear. His strained voice is gravelly, and when he asks Jean if he’s gonna come, it comes out again in dominating growls, and he doesn’t get a response so much as a goddamn explosion.

Jean inhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut tight as his cheeks hollow around the fingers in his mouth, and his hands scrabble for purchase in the couch as his thighs tremor and his soaked cock drips and then a sharp whine escapes him as his ass tightens impossibly around Marco’s cock, so tight, so fucking tight that it’s impossible for Marco to do anything but fuck Jean harder and cry out against his shoulder. Jean’s coming, coming so damn hard, whimpers coming louder the more Marco fucks him through it.

He’s long since tumbled over the edge. Marco just finishes riding out his orgasm, his body on fire and his fingers wet and his mind blank from how good it feels. Jean’s collapsed under him, quivering and whining. He gasps around Marco’s fingers as the brunette finally slows to a halt.

Carefully, and after checking to make sure he still has most of his brain functions, Marco shivers and pulls out of Jean’s mouth and out of his sweet ass. The blonde twitches, arching toward him. Come drips out of him, and likely smears all over his stomach, and the way he looks makes Marco want to do it a thousand times more.

“Jean,” he murmurs, reaching over to run his fingers through Jean’s sweaty hair. “Jean, baby, are you okay?”

“Fuck,” comes the weak response, followed by a much livelier, “Holy fuck, Marco!”

Marco raises his eyebrows, standing on jellied legs so he can roll Jean onto his side.

So much come. Marco winces, hoping Jean moves soon so they can wash the cushion covers.

Jean’s not thinking about the couch. He’s bright red, grinning like an absolute moron, and his eyes are sparkling. “That was fucking awesome Marco, oh my god.” He laughs loudly, literally bouncing off the couch and stretching up onto his toes.

Marco’s hard-pressed to not pop another boner at the way his come drips down Jean’s thighs.

As it turns out, Jean is one of those people who gets fucking hyper after they’ve had the brains fucked out of them. Marco just laughs, falling onto his side to watch his rejuvenated boyfriend legit swagger around the basement and into the little bathroom to start the shower.

Marco joins him in interest of personal hygiene, but he spends a good bit of time fighting off his boyfriend as Jean clamors for a round two, like he’s running an insane sugar high or something. What a mess.

Chapter Text

Jean has to admit to jacking off more than your average bear. Not that Jean’s a bear. He’s more toward the twink end of the scale, if you must know, but that’s beyond the point.

Jacking off. Right.

So even from the standpoint of someone who gives themselves a hand regularly, Jean jacks off a lot.

The way he’s managed to be Marco’s roommate at their dorm for almost two years straight without ever being caught, well. There’s an art to it. Mostly the art of keeping a completely straight face while he’s talking to Marco and also running his hidden finger along the little precome-slick metal ball resting in his slit, maybe even giving the piercing a gentle tug.

It eventually becomes something of a game to him, which he used to pretend he was appalled by but now he just plain enjoys.

Marco, on the other hand.

Marco has nearly given up on wanking everywhere but in the shower because Jean has caught him every fucking time like it’s some kind of strange voodoo Murphy’s Law shit.

At his computer in the living room? Of course, his desk’s within plain view of the door, which Jean has always opened more quickly and forcefully than is really necessary.

On the couch? Duh. The back of the couch at least hides his dick from view until Jean can stomp around and collapse onto it, but the bright red of Marco’s face and the way he’s conspicuously sitting on his hands with his backpack in his lap always gives him away in a damn heartbeat.

In their room? All the time. All the time. It’s bad enough that Jean’s a light sleeper, and a grumpy one at that, but Marco cannot for the life of him do it silently. If it’s not one thing, it’s another, right? He makes little noises, which get breathier and more frequent as he continues, and when he comes his breath hitches and stutters as he pulls in a deep gasp through his nose, probably biting his lip, at least until a tiny ‘ah’ escapes, closely followed by the sounds of what must be beautiful, noisy moans barely held back—

Jean’s got a boner.

He slams his head down on his notebook, the dull thud echoing through the silent library around him.

He’d managed to find a nice, cozy little pod of study desks hidden deep on the third floor, basically abandoned, and he’d been there for hours before his mind had started to wander.

It’s not impossible for him to get off here. He’s an expert, remember? In fact, he could totally do it, absolutely, and his dick seems very interested in that idea.

It’s the distinct lack of napkins that prevents Jean’s depravity from expanding to exhibitionism more so than his morals, to no one’s surprise.

Regardless, he packs his shit up and unfastens his ungodly tight pants so he can reach in and move his now-solid cock into a more comfortable position, and if he stops for a moment to palm at himself through his underwear with a shaky sigh, no one knows but him.

He’s suddenly glad that midterms had prevented him from doing laundry. The only clean top in their entire room was this truly unholy sweater Marco’s grandmum had bought him in Florida. It legit has a fucking bald eagle on it, and it’s three sizes too big for any human, and there’s a weird little American flag stitched into the hem at the hip.

Even though it is the serious epitome of embarrassing granny gift, Jean’s desperate desire to escape the confines of his dorm won out over his horror of the damn sweater. If anyone asks, he’ll say they’ll thank him when it’s all the rage next season and he’s already on to the next big thing.

Fucking hipsters.

Bald eagle or not, the sweater covers Jean’s full-chub so he can escape the library with some manner of (excessively patriotic) grace and stalk back to his dorm.

Right as he’s about to barge into his room, hoping against hope that Marco’s not there so he can go full tilt, he hears Eren yelling from down the hall. He turns to raise an eyebrow, catching his friend’s shit-eating grin. “You’re a few months early there, Jean.”

Flipping Eren a significantly less regal bird, Jean enters his room more quietly than usual, given that the full force of his door-related vigor had been directed to his middle finger. As he kicks his shoes off, he looks around. Living room empty, desk chairs pushed in, no kitchen sounds, bathroom door open… Jean grins.

Well, most of the rooms were empty.

Jean’s halfway into his room, already reaching down to unbutton his pants, and he looks up in time to watch Marco, Marco’s—

He whirls out of the bedroom and slams the door to the bathroom behind him, face ablaze and cock stretching his underwear taut, unhindered by his unfastened pants. One hand goes to cover his mouth, eyes wide, but they roll shut pretty quick when he palms his dick roughly with his free hand.

The way he’d caught Marco is going straight to the top of the spank bank forever and ever.

Sprawled on his bed, hair mussed, face bright red, jeans around his knees, one hand jacking his (fucking beautiful thick uncut) cock furiously while the other one moves between his thighs too deep to be tugging at his tight balls, lip caught between his teeth as his flushed, sweaty, shuddering chest takes that huge hitching breath right before oh Jean can fucking hear him coming.

Oh, he never fucking wants Marco to silence himself again because his breathy cry and his shaky moans are making Jean’s cock soak through his fucking boxers with precome.

Jean rips his pants and his stupid underwear down just enough to fist his hand tight around his cock and stroke soaked flesh like he’d die without it because he probably would. He’d die if he didn’t fucking pull desperately thinking about Marco’s orgasm face, if he didn’t think about those fingers deep enough between his thighs that he’s gotta be fingering himself, fuck, if he didn’t imagine the way he must gasp when he curls his fingers against his prostate, the way he’d cry out if Jean fucked his pierced dick right into that incredible little sweet spot over and over, hard enough to slam the bed into the wall.

With a barely-muffled moan, Jean comes hard over his fist thinking about burying his dick in Marco and fucking those breathy desperate noises out of his sweet sensible roommate, fuck. He’s coming so hard his knees give and he arches up into his hand with violently shaking thighs and needy thrusts of his hips.

It takes Jean a few minutes to come down, his chest heaving and his face hot, hand still over his mouth to catch the little whines that come with the fucking aftershocks of that fucking orgasm. His fantasy lingers, Marco’s sounds echoing between his ears, and every time he remembers that shuddering breath, Jean bucks up into his messy fist.

When he blearily opens his eyes, Jean takes stock of the genuinely impressive amount of come on the floor between his sprawled thighs and drags his clean hand through his hair.

Well, goddamn.

Jean lets his eyes slide closed again, relishing the moment before it gets weird. Bro code states clearly that in these situations, Jean must open the bathroom door and pretend nothing happened, that he never saw Marco—yeah.

He’d gotten a good few drops of come on the hem of the sweater. Stupid fucking baggy eagle sweater.

Chapter Text

“H-hey, Marco…”

“Mm?”

“Ohjeez, h-hey, don’t hum when you’ve g-got the whole thing in your mouth—” Marco starts humming along to whatever’s on Pandora. Duh, with the whole thing in his mouth. “—f-fuck M-Marco—”

Marco just chuckles and pulls off to drag his tongue achingly slow up Jean’s hard, spit-slick dick. “What’s up?”

Jean takes a deep breath, raking his fingers through his hair. “Uh. Oh, yeah.” If possible, he flushes darker. Marco peers up at him, pausing in his slow strokes to play with Jean’s piercing. “Y-you know how you’re a grace to mankind and I’m lucky that you even allow me anywhere near you?”

Eyes narrowing, Marco slides his fingers down and wraps them around the base of Jean’s cock, already gently threatening torture. “What did you break?”

“N-nothing! Nothing, easy there. I’m just, uh.” He flushes darker. Marco wonders if he’s awkwardly going for praise kink, or if he’s about to ask Marco to wear something really weird. “You always s-swallow, you know.”

A pause. “Uh, I’m aware.”

Jean buries his face in his hands. Marco’s already grinning, resuming his slow, firm strokes. “What if you, uh.” Marco barely contains his laughter. “What if you, yannow. Didn’t. One time.”

“Jean, use your words, you weirdo.”

“CanIcomeonyourface?”

“Sure.” Jean jumps, although whether it’s from surprise or because Marco just wrapped his lips around the head of Jean’s cock and did something insane with his tongue, Jean’s not sure. Marco pulls back again, licking his lips. “Just tell me when you’re gonna come.”

Nodding vaguely, Jean watches his boyfriend get back into it, bobbing his head over Jean’s cock and flattening his broad tongue against the underside while he sucks, god, and Jean can’t help but slide his fingers back into Marco’s already-disheveled hair and scoot down in his chair some.

Jean’s really the luckiest motherfucker in the world. He knows that.

Not only does Marco really like sucking his boyfriend off, he’s fucking incredible at it, and Jean never has any problem loudly informing him of such, especially when Marco hollows his cheeks and buries his nose in dark curls while he fucking swallows around Jean’s cock, good lord.

It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been together or how many times Marco goes to his knees for Jean, it will never get old. Jean could never get tired of watching his boyfriend’s lips move over his cock, of the way Marco watches him fall apart with pretty, lust-dark eyes, of the way his broad, dark hands keep Jean’s legs spread while his thumbs slide up and down the incredibly sensitive skin at the very tops of his inner thighs.

Oh, fuck.

Jean’s so enraptured in watching Marco that he almost forgets what his boyfriend had agreed to, bless him, because Jean’s already twitching his cock up into Marco’s mouth and moaning breathlessly for him. He remembers, though, as he drags his shaking thumbs across Marco’s cheeks.

“F-fuck, Marco, p-pull—pull back—”

He does, one hand coming to wrap around and stroke Jean off, biting his lip and staring straight up at him, and Jean fucking loses it.

He’s hard-pressed to keep his eyes open while he comes, hips bucking as Marco flicks his wrist just so, and Marco somehow manages to close his just in time. Jean gives a stuttered moan when his come spurts onto his boyfriend’s beautiful face, sticky strings dripping from his eyebrow over his eye and onto his cheek, another across his nose and down onto his beautiful lips, which his tongue is quick to flick out and catch. Marco leans forward, slowing his firm strokes as he wraps his lips around the head of Jean’s cock to suck out the last feeble spurt so it doesn’t just drip lamely onto his fingers.

“Jesus,” Jean gasps breathlessly, his heart knocking against his sternum when Marco leans back and opens his one un-jizzed eye with a filthy grin.

“Is it everything you dreamed it would be?”

“Ohmygod it’s so much better, fuck.” Marco laughs, shifting his bangs away from the dripping blob on his forehead. “I’m sorry, just let me—Jesus. C-can I take a picture?”

“Don’t put it on Instagram.”

“Never, never,” Jean murmurs as he whips his phone out and snaps a few pictures, not even bothering to tuck his dick back in his pants first. “God damn, babe…”

Marco can’t stop giggling at his flushed boyfriend. He can only guess how much Jean’s going to pay him back for this; he always gets cuddly and worshippy when Marco lets him do shit like this. It’s like he forgets that Marco enjoys it just as much, as evidenced by the way his own cock is tenting his baggy sweats.

Jean’s mumbling something about cleaning Marco’s face off, already searching for paper towels, his expression a mix of dazed and mind-blown.

Yup, he’s gonna have a giant thankful puppy for a boyfriend for at least a few hours.

Chapter Text

“Jean,” Marco hollers into Jean’s ear, his volume a mix of the cheap beer and the loud, shitty basement music shaking the air around them. “Jean, they suck.”

Jean leans back to yell in his boyfriend’s ear. “I know!”

“No, they really suck,” Marco yells back, his eyes devouring the arched, pale column of Jean’s throat, marked obviously by a few hickies and a bite mark near his shoulder. He licks his lips, already distracted, his hands tightening on Jean’s hips.

“I knew that before.”

“What?”

Jean laughs, his beer sloshing in his stupid red solo cup. “I knew they sucked before. I just wanted some cheap beer.”

“You’re saying Natty Ice is the reason I’m going to need a hearing aid by thirty?”

“Eren wanted me to come to his show!” Jean grins, leaning farther into Marco’s chest. “Besides, doesn’t Mikasa look hot on bass?”

Marco looks up, blinking the way sweat drips down Jean’s throat out of his vision. Actually, yeah, from what he can see Mikasa is wrecking that bass, and it’s probably the only good part of the trio’s musical assault. Maybe that’s why the woofers are turned up so high the vibrations nearly obscure every other part of the set, from Eren’s frantic drumming and barked lyrics to Armin’s weirdly hesitant guitar riffs.

Basement shows suck.

It’s dark, the lighting an incredibly ghetto rigging of duct tape and shower curtains (seriously), and the smell of sweat and teenagers and some seriously dank pot makes the air around them thick.

It’s apparently the only thing anyone can think to do with summer, though, especially this hazy, humid summer before everyone goes off to college.

Marco leans back down into Jean’s shoulder and mouths up his neck, arms sliding more firmly around his boyfriend’s waist. “Should head out after them,” he says, enjoying the shiver that runs through every part of Jean that’s pressed tight against him. “Wanna fool around.”

“Oh yeah?” Jean grins at him, that look teasing and mischievous, and it simultaneously makes Marco nervous and damn horny. “Too bad I told Eren I’d jam with him after the show. I guess we’re stuck.”

Marco groans, using his lips to move Jean’s shirt further down his shoulder. Oh well, it’ll give him time to sober up for the drive home, and the way Jean smells when he’s sweaty and wasted is enough to sustain Marco. Or maybe it’ll drive him crazy. Who knows.

“Here’s a new one, you fucks,” Eren yells into the microphone. “It’s called ‘Ur Fuckin Gay and I Like That In a Person,’ dedicated to Jean Fuckface Kirschtein, I can see you making out back there and you’re gonna make me hurl.”

“Fuck you, Fallout Boy,” Jean yells, a wide grin on his face, and the song starts up much the same way as the rest; loudly. “Oh, this one actually sounds like music.”

Marco raises his eyebrows, resting his chin on Jean’s shoulder with a laugh. “You think so?”

Jean somehow nods and finishes his beer at the same time, and before he can peel himself off of his boyfriend (probably literally), Connie whirls by like a hurricane and stacks a fresh cup in Jean’s exhausted beer. Good host. Jean raises his cups to him, and Connie grins before he leapfrogs off a crouching Sasha to crowdsurf the violently swaying hipsters. He bangs off the ceiling more than a few times before someone drops him.

Eren’s weird band moves into a slower song, him doing his best to imitate Peter Steele, and Jean sways idly against Marco as his boyfriend unabashedly snuggles him. Jean’s wearing these god-awful (or amazing) skinny jeans in this damn heat, somehow, and Marco’s entirely sure he’s going to have to ban that beanie until Jean washes it, because if it doesn’t reek of sweat and pot, he’ll be shocked.

He’s content, though, with Jean leaning into his chest and his arms securely around his thin waist. Closing his eyes, he lets Jean sway against him, and right as he’s in the middle of thinking how perfectly they fit together, Jean leans his head back to shout, “Hey, d’you think Eren ever fucking washes his gig shorts, or does he think the ball sweat gives him good luck or something?”

Marco buries his face in Jean’s shoulder with a groan, then stands up straight again. “God, Jean.”

“It’s a legit thing! Musicians are very superstitious, you know. Like baseball players.” Jean drinks his shitty beer and peers up at Marco, obviously trying to mask his giggles. Marco just laughs and presses a kiss to Jean’s temple.

Eren’s band, Junkyard Skunk Mob (whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean), finishes their set to rousing applause and loud whooping, and they break down to let the next group set up, some electronic bullshit duo made up of Thomas and Mina. They cleverly call themselves ‘Mimas,’ although Jean and Thomas have gotten into shouting matches before about how the obvious name combination should be ‘Thomina.’

Mimas’s music consists of upbeat tones and Mina somehow pitching her voice cutesy while she sings about love and ghosts and stardust (you know, hipster bullshit). Jean usually doesn’t get into it too much, but he must be more drunk than Marco’d thought, because he’s shifting his weight between his feet along with Thomas’s button-pushing in a way that kind of shifts his ass right against Marco. When Marco moves back for his own sanity, Jean moves right back against him, and Marco mistakes his unsteadiness for being tipsy until the blonde turns and grins, biting at the plastic rim of his cup.

“Jean…” Marco squints at him, unasked question floating between them until Jean answers it by full grinding his ass against his boyfriend’s lap. “H-hey—”

“You said you wanted to fool around, hmm?”

“Not in Connie’s basement with a hundred people we know around us,” Marco says, laughing even as his fingers trail down to grip Jean’s hips.

“No one’s watching,” Jean says, his voice dripping with mischief, and when Mimas starts a new song, Jean grinds right against Marco’s helplessly hardening cock along to the beat. Marco licks his lips, letting himself resist for all of three seconds before he drapes himself against Jean’s back and moves to suck a new hickey into pale skin.

There’s no way Jean’s getting away with it entirely, though. Marco looks around to make sure everyone’s watching the show, then behind them, and Jean squeaks but doesn’t resist when Marco drags him back into the corner beside the couch where all the people who are too fucked up to stand sit and yell about whatever comes to mind first. Back to the wall, Marco’s grip moves under Jean’s loose shirt to drag him back harder, and his boyfriend’s low moan vibrates against Marco’s chest when he digs his nails in just slightly.

Jean hands his half-full beer to some girl rolling a joint on a history textbook, then leans back up to Marco so he can dig his hand into soft black hair and pull him into a sloppy, beer-flavored kiss. His grinding has tempered into something needier, less rhythmic, and Marco grinds right back against his ass as his hands slide along Jean’s hips, along his stomach, dragging his fingers through his well-kept happy trail until he has Jean moaning into his mouth and wriggling.

Pulling off and mouthing wetly up Jean’s neck, Marco licks up his ear before murmuring, “Sure you don’t wanna get out of here?” He glances around before sliding one hand down to rub along Jean’s cock, hardening in his pants and trapped against his thigh. “Could suck you off, or pin you to my backseat and grind against you, I know you like that…”

The way Marco’s voice rumbles against his ear has Jean shivering, his hips moving faster just to try and get higher, fingers twitching and tensing in Marco’s hair. He’s sorely tempted to tell Eren he’s too drunk to jam, which might be true, but something about having Marco whisper filthy things into his ear with all these people around… fuck, and the way he’s palming at his cock caught in his too-tight pants. Jean can think of a few good reasons to stay right here.

He knows he’s grinning, and Marco can tell from that grin what’s going through Jean’s mind, so he slides his finger along where the head of Jean’s cock is threatening to poke out of his boxers and bites at the angle of his jaw and just gives in to his kinky-ass boyfriend’s sudden temptations. Jean really gets off on Marco’s flustered dirty talk, and he’s not disappointed, because Marco is the very definition of flustered with his hard dick straining at his zipper and riding right along the crack of Jean’s great ass.

“Think you like having my dick here,” Marco whispers, his voice gone raspy with need. “Y’know what we haven’t done yet? Been thinkin’ about it…” Jean’s half-brainless with his boyfriend’s lips pressed right against his ear and his thick fingers spreading over his thighs, but he summons enough willpower to make a questioning sound. “I think you’d like it if I fingered you, hmm?”

Jean shivers. His hips move with increased urgency, thankfully accompanied by a faster song, and he gnaws on his lip, unable to respond for fear of making too much noise.

“Or if I ate you out? You don’t clear your search history, you know, but I learned a thing or two from it…” Marco’s breath hitches, bucking his hips against Jean with a shuddering moan. “You wanna know what it’d feel like to have my mouth on you? Could let you s-sit on my face, fuck, Jean…”

Jean can’t come in his pants. Not here. It’d spill out of his underwear and down his leg and he’d be a fucking sticky disaster. Jean holds on, just barely, his brain eagerly devouring every filthy, throaty word Marco murmurs into his ear until his boyfriend’s voice wavers, his low moans growing more frequent, and when Marco comes in his pants with a gasp muffled against Jean’s shoulder, he gives him a bare second to recover before he’s already dragging him up the stairs and into the bathroom.

Marco growls and lifts Jean by the ass to sit him on the sink after he yanks his tight-ass pants down, letting himself be dragged between Jean’s spread thighs, and with his tongue shoved into his boyfriend’s mouth and his hand jacking him off, Marco swallows Jean’s sweet little moans as he comes messily into the brunette’s waiting palm.

“Don’t know why I had to come in my pants,” Marco mumbles, reaching around Jean to wash the come off his hand. He dries his hands off and strips, using his jizz-soaked boxers to clean himself off before balling them up and pulling his pants back up with a grimace. Commando’s only great when Jean’s doing it. “We couldn’t have moved, like, ten seconds earlier?”

Jean gives Marco a dopey grin, still riding the waves of his orgasm. “You were talkin’. Besides, you know my dick hangs down. Yours gets hard and sticks straight up.”

Marco looks up from his attempt to find something to wrap his underwear in, then just gives up and buries it in the trash. “So, what, it’s my punishment for being a grower?” He’s returning Jean’s grin, though, and moving back between his legs to kiss him some more.

“Nah, it’s just a lot more inconvenient for me to come in my pants.” Jean wraps his arms around Marco’s shoulders and hums against his lips. “Love you, you goober.”

“Love you too.” Marco slides his thumbs along Jean’s hip bones, then grins at him. “Wasn’t kidding, by the way. I’d let you.”

Jean turns bright red, but he laughs and nips at Marco’s lower lip. “What, sit on your face? Jeez…”

Someone bangs on the door right then, startling them both, and Jean hurriedly shoves his dick back into his underwear and hikes his pants up as he hops off the sink.

“Come on, my bladder’s gonna pop,” Connie laughs when Marco opens the door sheepishly. “Oh, thanks for not fucking in my room. You’re the only ones so far.”

“H-hey—” Jean starts, already turning red again, but Marco just laughs and pulls Jean back into the basement so he can make good on his promise to jam with Eren.

Chapter Text

“I said, college parties are fucking overrated.”

Marco can’t think straight. Not with the way Jean’s grinding on him, swaying his hips and grinning that way he does when he’s trying to get some. Or maybe it’s the beer. Or the shots. Or the… oh, dammit, the baked goods. Any one of those things.

Regardless, here they are again. Sophomores again, like they were when Jean clumsily yelled from a damn bridge that he liked Marco. That way.

Why’s he thinking of that right now?

Sophomores again, but in college this time, and Jean’s somehow fucking in Marco’s lap while they’re both standing, and he’s grinding against him and licking his lips. The way he’s grinning and moving and laughing makes Marco’s mouth run dry, his hands tightening on his boyfriend’s bony hips.

“Jean,” Marco manages, trying not to let on that he’s getting mildly sentimental. “I, uh.”

“You forgot what we were talking about again, hmm?” Jean arches his back and leans closer, wrapping his arms around Marco’s shoulders. “You keep spacin’ out and starin’ at me. You okay there, stoner boy?”

“Y-yeah.”

Jean leans in and nuzzles at Marco’s cheek, chuckling low in his throat. “Looks like you’re gettin’ kinda sentimental on me.”

Dammit. With a groan, Marco buries his face in his boyfriend’s sweet-smelling neck. Maybe a little too much Axe. It’s okay, though. “Y’know we’ve been together four years?”

“I hadn’t forgotten,” Jean laughs, nudging Marco up to kiss him warmly, deeply. “Four good fuckin’ years. Surprised you haven’t killed me yet.”

“Last semester’s beard was a close call,” Marco says against Jean’s lips, his hands dipping under his boyfriend’s shirt. His fingers slide in Jean’s sweat, and it hits him that it’s kinda really fucking hot in here, what with all the booze and the moving bodies.

“It will be mourned.”

“Yeah right.”

“I put up a tombstone for it in the bathroom, didja see it?”

Marco laughs, biting at Jean’s lips. “I accidentally knocked it into the trash.”

“Oh, what? I loved that thing. Good conversation piece.”

“In the bathroom?”

“Mhm.” Jean grins and runs his hand through Marco’s hair, grinding against him a little more pointedly. He licks his lips and kisses Marco again, fucking dirty and suggestive this time, and it sets Marco’s brains reeling. He grabs at Jean’s ass and pulls him closer, letting himself fall under Jean’s spell. “Hey there, frisky. You must be baked, you’re never this handsy away from home.”

Oh. Right. They’re not alone. Very much not so, in fact. They’re kind of in a corner at some random party up the street from their apartment. Marco immediately straightens up, peering around, and Jean laughs and tugs at Marco’s ear.

“You forget where we are?”

“N-no.”

Jean’s laugh is loud, boisterous, mesmerizing, and so is the way sweat rolls down his neck. He peels himself off of Marco, though, and drags him by the hand through the house until they hit the cardboard box bar set up in the dark kitchen. The music’s loud as hell, but at least it’s cooler in here, away from the mass of writhing college kids. Marco watches Jean buy three shots and turn back with a grin.

“Don’t you think I’m out of it enough?”

“What makes you think these are for you?” Jean sticks his tongue out, then knocks all three back in quick order, almost impressively so. He hasn’t quite gotten rid of the ‘blech vodka’ face, though. “I need to catch up!”

Marco just blinks. Jean hands the shot glasses back to the Hawaiian-shirted bartender, who can’t be much older than they are, and drags him back out into the fray.

He’s not entirely sure now how he so thoroughly forgot that this world existed when he was in the corner with Jean’s grin and his grinding hips. It’s fucking loud in here, some strange grungy alt rock blaring through speakers taller than most people, the place lit up like Christmas with strings of colorful lights strung across the ceiling, and they flash in a way that Marco’s too stoned to handle. He looks back down at Jean, who’s dragging him into the mass of sweaty wiggling humans, and who grins back at him like the devil leading him willingly into temptation.

Yeah, wow, far too fucking stoned. Never again with Eren’s goddamn baked goods.

It’s taken Marco a minute, but he realizes vaguely that Jean’s leading him through the mess and into the dark hallway, then up the darker stairs, and then into a pitch-black little room, where he uses locking the door as an excuse to press his lithe body against Marco’s.

“Hey,” Jean murmurs into Marco’s ear, sliding a thigh between his and grinding up against him, Jesus. “Y’know, I like how you’ve been staring at me all night.”

“Oh yeah?” Marco grins and slides his arms around Jean’s waist, bringing him and his teasing thigh closer.

“Mhm,” Jean hums. He leans back and kisses Marco again, sliding his pierced tongue along Marco’s, and his hands settle warm and possessive on his boyfriend’s hips. “I know what you’re thinkin’ about.”

Marco makes a questioning sound, moving his hands to Jean’s slightly stubbly jaw to pull him into another kiss. He gasps, though, when Jean rocks his thigh firmly against him and laughs quietly, his breath sharp with cheap vodka.

“You’re thinkin’ about the bridge again,” Jean breathes, his hands sliding slowly up Marco’s shirt to tease at his sensitive hips. “Thinkin’ about the night we started going out. Anniversary’s comin’ up.”

“In October,” Marco manages, his voice sounding far less in control than he’d imagined it would. As romantic as the moment is, Jean’s definitely still grinding rather nicely against Marco’s growing arousal.

“Yup. Four years, huh?”

Jean drags his nails gently down Marco’s side, drinking in his arching gasp as he does, and when his fingers hit the waist of his boyfriend’s jeans, he just shifts his hand. To Marco’s cock. And rubs. Marco’s eyes roll shut at the feeling, his hips rocking up into the friction helplessly with a low moan.

“J-Jean,” he moans softly, tangling his fingers in Jean’s hair. “Wh-what’re you doin’?”

“Feeling you up.”

So blunt when he drinks. Marco shivers and laughs softly, ducking his head to bite at Jean’s throat. “While y-you talk about sentimental stuff?”

With a hum, Jean rubs his palm against Marco’s cock, now straining at his zipper. “What can I say, I’m a romantic.”

“C-clearly,” Marco laughs, leaning back against the door and staring down at Jean. Now that his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, he can see that they’re in a bathroom, and Jean’s peering up at him with dark eyes and licking his lips.

“I love you, Marco,” Jean whispers, leaning in closer to kiss Marco softly, so lovingly that he almost forgets the hand driving him a little crazy.

“I love you too, goober,” Marco replies, rocking his hips up against Jean and reaching down to grab at his ass again. “You know, ‘s kinda hard to have a tender moment when you’re half-jacking me off in a bathroom to whatever the hell’s playing downstairs.”

“Mm, for you, maybe.” Jean licks at his boyfriend’s lips and slides his other thigh between Marco’s, effectively placing himself between his legs. “You’re tellin’ me you don’t get off on anniversary talk?”

Marco laughs, pulling Jean’s hand off his cock to lace their fingers together. “You’re a dork.”

“That’s not a no…” Jean grins and grinds his hips against Marco’s, letting their trapped arousals grind awkwardly. Jean’s is trapped down his leg, though, much to his discontent, so he growls against Marco and pins him harder to the door. “Hey…”

“Mmh?” Marco squeezes Jean’s hand, letting the other rest over the back of his boyfriend’s neck.

“Wanna fuck you.”

“H-here? We live like two blocks down, babe…”

“Too far.” Jean bites at Marco’s sensitive ear, his free hand sliding up to squeeze at the brunette’s side. “Let’s just do it here. You know how bad you get to me?” He moans against Marco’s ear, softly and just the way he knows gets under Marco’s skin. “Feelin’ your eyes on me all night got me all worked up. All I can think about is how you look when you’re taking me and letting me make you feel good… so hot, y’know that?”

“J-Jean,” Marco gasps, letting his head thunk back against the door. “C-c’mon, that’s so cheap.”

“What.” Jean grins and kisses him again, sucking at his lip and flicking his tongue between them teasingly. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

Marco bites his flushed lips and frees his hands to grab at Jean’s ass again, dragging their hips together. “Hearin’ you talk like that, you know what it does to me. ‘S cheap.”

Jean laughs, reaching up to wrap his arms around Marco’s shoulders. “You sayin’ you don’t wanna fuck quick and dirty up here where anyone could walk in on us?”

Marco lets out a ragged sigh, his eyes fluttering closed. “Damn exhibitionist, you know that?”

“It’s not exhibitionism if there’s no one watching,” Jean murmurs, sliding his hands slowly down Marco’s back and into his back pockets.

“Debatable.”

“What d’you say, mm?” Jean nudges Marco’s jaw, dragging his tongue down sweaty skin and biting at the fading shadow of a hickey from last week. “You wanna let me make you feel good?”

“Gotta be quick,” Marco moans, reaching between them to undo Jean’s obnoxiously tight pants. “C’mon, love, you got me.”

Jean’s about to mouth off some snarky reply when Marco yanks his pants down with sudden urgency and a breathy laugh, his grin wide in the darkness as he lets Jean’s cock bounce free. He’s never once complained since Jean gave up on underwear entirely. The blonde moans softly when Marco wraps his hand around him and strokes him firmly, evenly, and he relishes the attention for a moment before his own hands move to tug and pull at Marco’s pants.

They’re kissing again, jacking each off in the dark bathroom and sighing into each other’s mouths, and it’s almost enough to relax them into their usual slow pace until they hear heavy footsteps clomp up the stairs. Marco’s eyes flash open, his hand tightening on Jean’s shoulder, and Jean’s about to shove his dick back down his pants when the footsteps thunder past the bathroom and into a room down the hall.

“Jean—” Marco stares at Jean, wide-eyed and flushed, his breath catching when the footsteps move past again.

“Bert,” comes a loud, familiar voice. Reiner. Jean presses Marco against the door, waiting, listening. “Where’s your charger?”

Another set of footsteps comes, lighter but more uneven, and Bertholdt’s soft laugh filters through the thin wood as he and Reiner move down the hall again.

“Gotta be quick,” Jean whispers into Marco’s ear, repeating his earlier words, and Marco’s about to protest, to get Jean to at least wait until their friends have gone back downstairs, but then Jean’s stroking him just hard enough and just fast enough that it lights a fire in Marco’s blood again.

Maybe they’re both exhibitionists.

“D’you have—?”

“’Course I do,” Jean mumbles, pulling away just enough to shove Marco’s pants and underwear down to his thighs. He leans back in to lick up Marco’s ear, whispering, “God, you’re hot,” right before he turns him around and grinds his cock against the brunette’s ass. “So fucking hot, Marco, wanted this all damn night…”

Marco bites his thumb and leans his head against the door, now acutely aware of the sounds of people moving around this floor. More people coming upstairs, moving past the bathroom to do something up here—damn. “H-hurry up,” he mumbles, looking over his shoulder at the way Jean’s just admiring his cock sliding between Marco’s ass cheeks.

“F-fuck, right,” Jean murmurs, pulling two little lube packets out of his pocket, followed by a condom. Always prepared. He slicks up his fingers in the dark, going on memory alone, and he wastes no time in opening Marco up on his fingers, trailing hot kisses up the nape of his neck. “’M gonna make you feel so good, babe.” Marco whines softly and wriggles his hips back onto Jean’s fingers, two of them sliding slick and deep inside of him.

Down the hall, he hears the telltale screech of a guitar being plugged into an amp. Fuck, they’re not leaving anytime soon, then. Just down the hall, away from the thick bass of the stereo, god knows how many people crowding around to hear Bert jam or whatever the fuck they’re doing… Marco whimpers and covers his mouth, arching at the way Jean scissors his fingers right before he curls them, fuck—

“J-Jean,” Marco manages, his throat tight and his cock fucking dripping and achingly hard, his body on fire from the need to feel Jean inside of him mixed with the danger of getting caught. Jean moans softly against his shoulder, fingering him with that same urgency right before he slides a third finger inside, spreading him open.

“Y-you okay, babe?” Jean kisses Marco’s cheek, surprisingly soft for the way he’s slamming his fingers into Marco, gentle compared to the way he curls them into the brunette’s prostate and swallows the tiniest squeaking moan from him.

“J-just—c’mon—”

Licking his lips, eyes hot with want, Jean pulls his fingers out and tears open the condom with his teeth. He rolls it on and slicks it with the last of the lube, biting his lip at the feeling, and when he moves behind Marco and presses him against the door, he presses his lips against his boyfriend’s shoulder and slowly, slowly spreads him open with his cock.

“F-fuck, Marco,” Jean manages low in his throat, barely restraining himself even as he bottoms out and slides shaking hands to Marco’s hips. He graces Marco with a bare second to get used to it, his breaths humid and needy against the brunette’s shirt, and just as Bert starts playing loud and grungy down the hall, Marco jumps near out of his skin and gasps, and both of them are out of patience.

Jean pins Marco to the door and sets in on him, filling him up in short, quick thrusts as his hands pull Marco back onto his cock. He gasps, eyes near crossing at the feeling, and Marco rocks back into him with stuttering, panting breaths, his eyes squeezed shut. The loud, strange riffs from down the hall don’t quite cover the whines Marco lets out, nor his gasped pleas for more, Jean, more, nor the way Jean groans and fucks him harder, deeper.

Leaning his head back, Marco bites his lip and arches his back, trying to find that angle, that good spot—Jean obliges him and pulls back a little, moves back a bit, and when he looks between them at the way Marco’s taking him so perfectly, Jean groans and moves again.

The movement did them good. Marco’s eyes go wide and roll closed, his teeth digging into his hand, and Jean’s thrusts hit him deep and fuck him open so good, his ass squeezing around Jean and pulling him deeper. Jean moans and thrusts harder, the sounds of his hips ramming against Marco’s sweet ass loud to their oversensitive ears. Neither of them are willing to stop, though, not with the way Marco’s whining again and tensing, his cock dripping slick precome, and with the way Jean’s cock fucking nails his sweet spot in rough, claiming thrusts.

Marco breathes Jean’s name, his thighs shaking from the pleasure, boneless against the door in a way that lets him hear every word of the loud conversation down the hall, half a dozen voices that could at any moment come down the hall and find him taking Jean’s thick cock in the dark bathroom, and the thought sets him on fucking edge in ways he never anticipated. He moans again, then covers his mouth, peering at his boyfriend over his shoulder with desperate eyes.

Luckily, Jean knows Marco so well by now. He groans and plasters himself to Marco again, pounding his cock into him as he whispers, “Look so pretty with my dick in you, Marco.” He grins breathlessly at the broken moan that elicits, at the way Marco’s thighs fucking quake for him. “God, ‘s so tight ‘n hot, feels amazing ‘round me.” He moans just loud enough to make them both jump, afraid for the proximity of the people down the hall. It just makes Jean want more though, damn him, so he tightens his grip on Marco’s hips and fucks him harder. “You like it, yeah? M-me filling you up…” Marco nods, gasping around his fist, eyes squeezing shut tight. He’s close, so close, but he can’t trust himself not to cry out for more, so he just shakes and hopes Jean can feel how close he is. 

Jean slides one hand down and wraps his fingers around Marco’s soaked cock, moaning into his shoulder at the badly-contained whimper the movement elicits. He jacks Marco off in time to the way he’s slamming his cock deep into him, looking between them again to watch his cock move, to watch how Marco looks around him, how he takes him. 

It’s too much. Jean gasps and shivers, whining against Marco and biting his shoulder to contain his cries as he comes, Marco’s ass tight around his grinding, rough last thrusts. He tries to rock his hips along his boyfriend’s sweet spot, his hand moving tight and quick, but it’s too goddamn much and Jean’s too goddamn sensitive. 

When Jean’s arching thrusts stutter to a halt, Marco whines and trembles, trying to get across how bad he needs it. His pleas don’t fall on deaf ears. Jean pulls out, much to Marco’s dismay, but he turns him around and falls to his knees and fucking swallows Marco’s cock and sucks, and it takes barely a few bobs of Jean’s hot mouth to have Marco curling over his head and digging his hands into his boyfriend’s hair and gasping as he comes down Jean’s waiting throat. Jean lets Marco thrust into his mouth, his hands braced against the brunette’s shaking thighs, until his boyfriend’s fucked out and pulling his softening cock out of Jean’s mouth. 

“F-fuck,” Marco breathes, twitching at the way Jean leans back in to suck him clean and kiss down his sensitive cock. The blonde pulls away and stands again, grinning like an asshole as he pulls the condom off and tosses it into a little trash can by the sink. 

“Need some help there?” Jean sticks his tongue out and stuffs his cock back down his pants after cleaning himself off. Marco just runs his hands down his face and stays slumped against the door. 

“Do the dumb hyper thing in a minute,” the brunette sighs, reaching for his boyfriend. “I wanna cuddle.” 

“Ooh,” Jean says, moving to pull Marco rightly to his feet so he can kiss him warmly. “Mr. Big Cuddly Teddy Bear.” He laughs and nuzzles him obnoxiously, already ignoring Marco’s request to delay the hyper-ness. “You’re the best, you know that?” 

Marco laughs and reaches down to make himself decent. “We still gotta find a way to get out of here without looking suspicious, you know.” 

“Impossible. You have the best ‘just-got-fucked’ hair.” 

Groaning, Marco pulls Jean into another sated kiss, finally getting his knees to stop shaking so damn much. “Whose fault is that, then?” 

“I will absolutely accept the blame for that with a smile.” 

“Of course.” 

Jean smirks and turns the light on, giving less fucks about his rumpled appearance than Marco does, and when they open the bathroom door and bolt downstairs, Jean’s already chasing Marco with a lecherous grin and grabby hands. 

Chapter Text

“I totally get the whole ‘broadening your horizons’ thing,” Jean grouches, legs crossed under him in his desk chair. “But why on the literal opposite end of the universe?”

“Italy’s not that far, Jean,” comes a sweet, familiar laugh from Jean’s computer. “I could’ve gone with Japanese instead.”

Jean leans his chin in his palm and squints at the screen where Marco’s smiling at him from sunny, beautiful Italy. He takes the sun so well, always has. “I miss you.”

“Mm, I miss you too, Jean,” Marco hums, blowing Jean a kiss. “You’ll have to come back with me someday, I think you’d like it.”

“Isn’t it hot as balls?”

“Surprisingly, it’s not. It’s actually really nice.”

Jean sighs and twirls his pen between his fingers, giving up on doodling on his homework. Marco’s been gone for a full month already, not even half the semester he’s signed up for on exchange. Language and culture experience, to practice his budding Italian.

Marco turns for a moment, then holds up a finger to Jean and leans back, answering someone’s question offscreen in soft, rolling syllables that sound less hesitant, less unsure than when he left.

Whoever he was talking to laughs and speaks again, and whatever he says has Marco flushing slightly and grinning at Jean. He responds, and Jean can’t help but think that the way he sounds is kinda really fucking hot. He chews idly on the end of his pen, watching Marco with hazy eyes. Yeah, super hot.

When Marco looks back at the camera, Jean grins with the pen still in his teeth, and Marco knows that look well enough to flush even darker. “J-Jean, you know it’s just barely dinner time here…”

“’S lunchtime here,” Jean replies, pitching his voice husky just to fuck with Marco.

It totally works.

Marco bites his lip and looks toward his door again, shifting in his chair before he looks back. “L-later, okay? There’s a lot of people walking around the dorm.”

“Don’t you like that kind of thing?”

“Jean,” Marco grumps, dragging his boyfriend’s name out in protest. “I’ve gotta live here for another few months, you know, and the door doesn’t lock right…”

Jean hums in response, leaning back in his chair and grinning. “Later, then, I’ll tell you all about how bad I wanna see you ride me and beg for my thick cock.” Marco’s already scrambling to plug his headphones in, face bright red as he sputters.

“Jean, people speak English here,” he murmurs, leaning back to check off-screen again as he puts his headphones in. “Later, okay?” Marco flicks his eyes between his screen and his door again, a few times, before he leans in and whispers, “Later I’ll let you watch me fuck myself.” When he pulls back, his face is bright red, but he’s grinning widely. It’s cute, as goddamn dirty as it is.

“What time, then?” Jean licks his lips, the movement slow and obvious. “I’ll be there.”

“Mm,” Marco hums, crossing his legs under him. “After one. I think that should be okay. So—”

“Six my time,” Jean supplies, not bothering to hide his eager grin. “Gotcha.”

Marco laughs, chewing on his nail for a moment. “S-so, hey, how’d that test go?”

Jean rolls his eyes and groans, slumping forward onto his desk. Brutal chem exam, more like instant boner kill.

--

It’s with extreme reluctance that Jean leaves their apartment to go to his afternoon classes, not to mention Marco’s incessant bullying. No amount of huffing or pouting would dissuade him, so no hooky for Jean.

Probably for the better, anyway. Jean doubts he could honestly sit through six straight hours of chatting with Marco and playing games and fucking undressing him with his eyes while Marco’s dorm falls asleep.

He makes it through classes, though, and grabs something that could pass as food as he skitters back to their apartment.

An entire damn semester without his boyfriend is going to be incredibly trying on Jean’s patience.

That being said, he’s got plans to tease the absolute shit out of Marco. Just because he’s on the other side of the world doesn’t mean Jean can’t fuck him just the way that leaves his thighs shaking and his cock dripping. He chuckles to himself as he jogs up the steps to their house, already plotting his torment.

He and Marco chat idly while Jean eats and they both do some work, Marco trying and failing to be subtle about checking the hallway every now and again. He’d switched into his glasses for the night, and watching him push them up the bridge of his nose when he leans back is fucking adorable. He’s obviously excited for it. Jean grins to himself despite the synthesis reactions rolling him over from his excessive homework.

They haven’t had full-blown Skype sex yet, surprisingly. Between the time difference, the convenience and speediness of Snapchat, and general school shit, they haven’t had the time or the energy. It breaks Jean’s heart, it really does. Poor Marco, poor Jean. Poor Marco’s neighbors, Jean thinks with a chuckle and a smirk when Marco isn’t looking.

“So,” Marco says quietly after he comes back from shutting off his overhead light and attempting to lock his door. “What got you all riled up earlier?”

Jean leans back in his chair, immediately shoving his homework straight off the side of his desk, a move that has Marco helpless with giggles. “What, you mean just looking at you isn’t sufficient? Doesn’t Italy have mirrors, Marco?”

Rolling his eyes, Marco crosses his long legs under himself. “Seriously, you’re not usually that blunt. Is the distance getting to you?”

“Mm, yeah,” Jean admits easily, lacing his fingers behind his head. He bites his lip as he grins again. “Plus you speaking Italian is really cute, and the way you blush when you’re flustered is really cute, and you’re just fucking hella cute.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. And you being cute makes me wanna fuck you.”

Marco has to hide his laugh in his palm, eyes squeezing shut. God. He adjusts his earbuds in his ears, checking his door again. “So that’s all it takes now, hmm?”

Jean licks his lips, feigning thinking before he grins evilly. “Aaand I happened to be going through a certain box last night…” Marco’s eyes go wide and his face goes dark red, already fidgeting. Jean doesn’t have to elaborate on which box exactly. He chuckles playfully, leaning forward again. “And I noticed that we appear to be missing something.” Averting his eyes, Marco sucks on his lips in an attempt to contain his giggles, although he’s still flushed bright.

“How about that.”

“I knew you were off seeing the world, babe,” Jean purrs, resting his chin in his palm and waggling his eyebrows. “But I didn’t know you were harboring stowaways.”

“Jean, please,” Marco laughs, rubbing his nose. “Stop personifying the dildos, it’s weird.”

“I think I’m hilarious,” Jean huffs, sticking his tongue out. “So, let’s see it. I hope you put passport stamps on it.”

“I don’t think airport security would stamp something that’s been in both our asses, Jean,” Marco murmurs as he gets up and crosses to his closet, bashfully digging around in his bag before returning and replacing his earbuds. He holds up the so-called stowaway, pointedly staring at the wall as he does.

Yup. Marco had absconded to Italy in the company of a thick purple cock. Jean’s in tears laughing, although he can’t say he blames his boyfriend.

“Like you wouldn’t, you nerd,” Marco laughs, setting the thing on his desk and crossing his arms. “You’re the one who was looking for it, anyway.” He scratches his ear and smiles softly then. “Sorry I’m hogging it.”

“Whatever, I made do,” Jean says, waving his hand. “You like that one more than I do, anyway.”

“I guess so,” Marco chuckles. “It’s a poor substitute, but you know.”

“Mhm.” Jean looks Marco over again, that heated grin passing back over his face. “I distinctly remember you being the one who offered to let me watch you fuck yourself, hmm? I imagine it’d make an appearance sooner or later.”

Marco chews on his thumb and nods. “Probably. I can’t help it if I kinda like the idea, you know…”

“Of what? Skype sex?”

“Well, yeah,” he hums, leaning back in his chair. “It’s more visual than phone sex. Plus we can, like, tell each other what to do.” Marco’s gradually flushing darker as he speaks. Even after five straight years together, they’ve still got things they haven’t done, and they both still get flustered about things like this. Jean sighs contently, his chest a little warm from it.

Okay, so Jean’s definitely one of those kicked-puppy types when his boyfriend’s away. Whatever.

“So if I asked you,” Jean murmurs, quirking an eyebrow, “To let me watch you ride that thing until you’re coming so hard you forget everything but my name…”

Marco’s eyebrows twitch, his throat working in a visible swallow. “Y-yeah, it could probably happen.”

Jean stands and makes a show of ‘casually’ taking his shirt off, letting Marco get a good look at his flat stomach, sharp hips, and perhaps the half-chub he’s got going. Imagining Marco like that is a great mental image. Jean’s barely been surviving on the post-orgasm selfies Marco sends him, his hair all mussed and sticking up against his pillow and a sated grin on his face. “Hey, Marco, you know Monkey See, Monkey Do?”

Blinking widely, Marco tilts his head with a bemused smile. “Duh.”

“What if I told you I wanted to play a game?” Jean sits back down and licks his lips, slowly unfastening his pants and adjusting his half-hard cock so it tents his boxers in a way he knows gets Marco going.

“You wanna play webcam sex monkey thing?”

“Don’t gotta say it like that,” Jean laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just sayin’, it’s hard for me to, uh. Mess with you. Y’know, ‘cause I can’t hold you down and drive you crazy grinding my cock into you and then taking it away…”

Marco shivers, eyes flicking to his door one last time before he pulls his earbuds out to pull off his own shirt. “And you want me to volunteer for this?”

“I think it’d be fun.” Jean grins again, slouching down in his chair and spreading his thighs to show off just how much the idea gets to him. “Besides, you can’t look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love it when I tease you.”

With a laugh, Marco concedes with a small shrug, his eyes warm. “Put in headphones, at least. Isn’t anyone home?”

“Nothing they haven’t heard before,” Jean murmurs, reaching down to palm gently at his hardening cock with a soft sigh. Marco raises his eyebrows, though, gently breaking Jean down until he’s grumbling and putting his headphones in.

“Isn’t it better this way anyway?” Marco hums, leaning forward to murmur into his computer’s mic. “You get to hear me like I’m right there, right?”

“Oh, damn, yeah. Okay,” Jean replies, closing his eyes to let Marco’s teasing chuckle press right into his ears. “You convinced me.”

“I thought so,” the brunette purrs, standing and moving back enough that Jean gets to watch him slowly strip out of his jeans, turning and bending way over in a way that makes Jean’s mouth dry. Damn.

He waits patiently until Marco’s done his little striptease, biting his lip at the way he smiles as he wiggles out of his underwear, cock bouncing out already half-hard for it. Marco gives himself a few loose pulls with a hum, encouraged by Jean’s lips parting on a muted exhale, before he climbs back into his chair and slides his earbuds back in.

“Goddamn, Marco,” Jean sighs, squeezing himself through his boxers. Marco pushes his glasses up again, quirking an eyebrow at his boyfriend’s insufficient nudity. Jean concedes defeat and stands, grabbing his laptop and moving it to the bed. He stands in front of it first, giving Marco a good, close look at his solid cock before he peels his underwear down over it and lets it bob out.

He teases Marco the same way he had, his own strokes firm and slow, laughing lowly at Marco’s sighed, “Hey now,” before sliding his pants and boxers off and crawling over the sheets to lean back against the headboard.

“This angle good?” Jean asks, knowing full well it’s a good angle even as he spreads his thighs around his laptop and scoots toward it. His boyfriend gives a dazed nod, wrapping his hand around his cock as he leans forward, licking his lips. “Damn, Marco, you look so good. Semester’s too damn long.” Jean reaches out and trails his fingers gently over the head of his cock, dragging his thumb through his slit with a soft moan. “You have no idea what ‘m gonna do to you when you come home.”

“I’ll clear my schedule,” Marco mumbles with a raspy laugh, not entirely kidding about that. He rakes his free hand through soft black hair and leans back again, giving himself a squeeze before purposely pulling his hands away from himself. “So tell me about your little game.”

“O-oh, yeah.” Jean laughs and slides his fingers down his hard length, smirking at his screen as he does. “You’ve got lube, yeah?”

“’Course.” Marco leans over and pulls open his desk drawer, wiggling the little bottle at Jean before popping it open to slick his fingers with it.

“I was thinkin’,” Jean murmurs, his fingers resting at the base of his cock, “You’ve got that thing, yeah? Thought maybe you could ride it for me.”

“Mm, I figured that.” Marco hums and props his knees over the arms of his chair, easily spreading himself open for Jean with a little smile. The way it makes Jean’s eyelids flutter seems to encourage him as he slides his hand down to work himself open slowly, sliding a finger inside himself with a little sigh.

“God. Y-yeah. Um.” Jean takes a generous minute to watch Marco finger himself, the brunette’s cock already hard and probably slick with precome under his smooth foreskin. Marco licks his lips and sighs at the feeling, which snaps Jean out of his daze, remembering that he’s supposed to be the one doing the teasing. “Uh. S-so, the game is you get to ride that, but you gotta follow my hand.”

“Ah, so you still get to mess with me, hmm?”

“Hell yeah.”

Marco slides a second finger into himself and thrusts them gently, his lips parting slightly. “I like that.”

“Hoped so,” Jean replies quietly, giving himself a slow stroke as he watches. “Missed hearin’ you beg for it, Marco. Think you can play along for me?”

“I think so,” his boyfriend laughs, tilting his head back with a soft sigh. “Mmh, should’ve left my contacts in.”

“I like the glasses… like a super-hot librarian.”

“More like a super-blind one.” Marco thrusts his fingers a little faster with a shiver, probably curling them and spreading himself open as he does, his free hand coming to push his glasses up his nose again. “They keep sliding down.”

Jean grins and thumbs at the head of his cock while Marco preps himself, letting him take all the time he needs for it. Rarely is Jean a patient man, but he can make exceptions. “You’re so hot, Marco. Goddamn.”

Laughing softly, Marco flushes a little darker and quirks an eyebrow. “Doesn’t America have mirrors?”

“Shaddap.” Jean sticks his tongue out and wriggles a little closer to his laptop, wishing he had a fucking 80-inch flatscreen to hook it up to. He doubts Marco would approve of it, though.

“Ah, Jean,” Marco sighs as he slides another finger into himself, probably more for Jean’s benefit than his own. The toy he’d nicked isn’t as thick as Jean’s cock, but Marco likes it regardless. “How bad are you gonna tease me?”

“So bad, Marco,” Jean murmurs, gently squeezing the head of his cock. The urge to start himself off now in time to Marco’s fingers is strong, but he’d rather put that energy toward rendering his boyfriend helpless. “Miss you so much, babe. You know how often I have to jack off now?”

Another giggle, Marco’s teeth finding his lip again as he grins cutely and spreads his fingers inside himself. “I’ve created a monster.”

“Damn straight. You are Frankenstein, I’m your monster, and I have to wank like four times a day because you’re not here.”

“God, Jean, that bad?”

“You underestimate how good to me you are.”

Marco smiles widely, somehow translating Jean’s quirky compliments. Or whatever they are. Jean’s brand of ‘charm’ is an acquired taste. “Here’s hoping you return the favor, then.” He wriggles and angles his wrist, his toes curling a little at whatever he’s doing, which has Jean swallowing and growing impatient. “A-alright, I’m good.”

“Sit on it, then,” Jean rasps, licking his lips slowly. He watches Marco shiver at the obvious change in the atmosphere, his dark eyes sliding shut for a bare second before he pulls his fingers out of himself and gets himself set up, his thighs sliding off the arms of the chair (to Jean’s minor dismay). The toy’s one of those ones with the convenient suction cup on the base so you can theoretically fuck yourself on anything that’ll hold still long enough, making it perfect for sticking to the flat wood of Marco’s uncomfortable desk chair. As Jean slicks his own hand with lube, Marco plants the toy on the chair and rolls a condom over it.

“Good?"

“Good.”

With a slow breath, Marco wipes his hand off and steadies himself over the toy, then slides down with a shaky moan, his eyes sliding closed as he works his way to the base. “F-fuck, Jean…”

“God, Marco, you look so good, baby. Want you so bad.”

“Yeah, Jean, me too, ah…” Marco leans forward and braces his hands on the edge of his chair, giving an experimental wiggle.

“Take your time, love.” Jean spreads lube idly over his cock. “We got plenty of it.”

“Mmh, not much patience, though,” Marco laughs breathily, sitting up straight again and watching Jean with dark, hooded eyes. He spreads his thighs open and shows his boyfriend how well he’s taking it, the thing buried deep inside of him, but it’s the way he drags his palms achingly slow up the insides of his thighs, over his stomach, up his chest, and around the back of his neck as he arches and gives a soft moan that threatens to drive Jean mad for him. “Miss your hands on me…”

“Jesus Christ, Marco,” Jean manages, squeezing at the base of his cock and thanking god for absurdly high-quality webcams that let him see this in exquisite detail. “Gonna make me crazy… you know how fucking good you look?”

“N-not lookin’ so bad yourself, ngh.”

Moaning softly, Jean takes a deep, shuddering breath and tries to focus, but this is the closest he’s gotten to his boyfriend in ages, and it’s extremely trying on his patience. He’s half-tempted to say fuck it and just watch him fuck himself brainless on that damn thing, but then he remembers the sweet mental image he’d gotten off to like three times already of Marco shaking for it, begging him for it from thousands of miles away, and Jean finds it in himself to calm down.

“S-so, when my hand goes down,” Jean strokes down slowly from the head to demonstrate, “You go down. When I pull up, you pull up. Yeah?”

Marco nods, pushing his glasses up again and running his hand through his hair, already looking so disheveled, so fucking hot Jean has to pray for patience again. “Hop t-to it, then.”

“Alright, sassy,” Jean breathes, grinning at Marco and wrapping his hand more firmly around himself. He waits for another long moment, somewhere between letting his boyfriend adjust and getting him frustrated, before he pulls up in a good, firm stroke halfway and holds it. There’s a tiny lag, but Marco follows, taking deep breaths as he braces himself and lifts his hips. He’s watching so intently, tongue poking out between his lips, and if not for the way his hips roll when Jean holds it for too long he’d swear Marco’s perfectly in control.

“I like that angle,” Marco breathes, his voice hitching as Jean guides him back down onto the toy. “Makes me wanna s-suck you off.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Jean breathes, starting a good, slow rhythm that has Marco rocking in his chair, his eyes rolling closed just for a moment before he’s watching again. This is really gonna make him crazy. Marco’s eyes flutter closed so easily when he feels good, so used to letting Jean take care of him. Like this, he’s gotta keep his gaze focused to keep up, in case Jean has the mercy to speed up, to let him roll his hips harder, take the dildo deeper. “How’s that, Marco?”

“Feels good, love.” Marco gives himself a nice little wiggling grind when he settles down again, his lips parting on a quiet moan. He adjusts himself now that he’s relaxed around the cock inside of him, switching to brace himself against the back of his seat so he can arch his back tight and give Jean a better view, which is much appreciated.

It doesn’t take long before they’re both breathing quiet moans, Jean guiding Marco into pulling up higher, sliding along the length of the toy with every agonizingly slow thrust. Marco’s on to Jean’s game, though, and he’s being stubborn about begging Jean to fuck him faster, to let him fall down onto the thing with all of his weight. It’s getting to him, though. His thighs are trembling, still spread wide so Jean can watch hungrily, his hand tight around his cock as he pulls up with slick fingers and squeezes the soaked head of his dick in his hand.

“Is it hitting your sweet spot?”

Marco shivers, letting himself grind onto the base of the thing every time now. He gives a bare nod, his eyes still focused on Jean’s hand when he’s not working on memorizing the needy face Jean’s making.

“Not hard enough, hmm?”

Laughing slightly, Marco licks his lips and shakes his head. “Feels nice, though.” He shifts his weight to one hand so he can rub his palm against his aching cock, pulling his foreskin back over the head with a shiver. A tiny glint of light off the precome dripping from his slit is all Jean can see of the mess Marco’s making, but he imagines his boyfriend’s cock is sloppy with it in just the way that makes him crazy. He loves the effect he has on Marco, loves how fucking wet he gets when he’s this turned on. Jean groans softly at the sight, then picks up his pace just slightly, and the way Marco bites his lip around a whine lets him know he’s keeping up.

Jean guides him a little faster, lets Marco sink down harder onto it until he’s panting, moving his hand back to the chair so he gets the angle that drives the toy up against his sweet spot in the most fucking incredible way.

“H-how thin are the walls?” Jean grins as he asks, loosening his grip just slightly to keep himself from losing it too quickly.

“Very,” Marco breathes, circling his hips so nicely.

“Think you can keep it down like this?”

“Mhm, like this, yeah,” he replies, looking at Jean over the edges of his glasses. The sight makes Jean’s breath hitch, that fucking smoldering effective even on his screen. “But if you—Jean—” The blonde interrupts him by picking it up again, moving his hand over the thick base of his cock in quick little strokes that have Marco fucking himself in deep bounces that must be rubbing the toy over his sweet spot just right. Marco tilts his head back and somehow contains his breathy sounds, keeping it down still, and when he looks back up, god he’s gotta be craving it.

Marco’s gotta be dripping by now, flushed down onto his chest at this pace, that purple cock filling him up just short of enough, and Jean squeezes his eyes shut with an uneven moan at that, a lazy grin spreading over his face.

“G-glad you’re—ah—amused,” Marco sighs, the way his voice breathes right into Jean’s ears giving him fucking chills.

“This feels incredible, babe,” Jean manages, biting his lip. “So fucking good.”

“Y-yeah,” his boyfriend agrees, pressing his shoulders against the back of his chair to give his hips just the tilt they need to have him whimpering. “J-Jean, Jean, god…”

“Want more, love?” Jean makes sure Marco’s looking when he strokes himself down to the base and holds them there, grinding his hips up like he does when he’s trying to leave Marco brainless for him, and the way Marco’s hips and his cock twitch tell him it’s working. He watches Marco wiggle onto the toy, his eyebrows drawing together and his eyes falling half-lidded. “Is it enough?”

“No, ‘course n-not, god…” Marco pants out soft, breathy moans, still just barely audible in his pleasure. “J-Jean, ngh—”

“What’s up?” Jean bucks his hips up again, the movement making him shiver as he imagines that it’s his cock spreading Marco open, and the brunette’s mouth falls open in a way that mirrors that mental image. “What d’you need, babe?”

“’F you keep this up,” he manages in a thick whisper, “’M not gonna be able to keep it down, Jean, ah.”

“Wanna hear you scream for me, M-Marco.”

“I know that,” Marco laughs, reaching up to run his hands through his hair again, sweat starting to leave those messy cowlicks he always gets when he’s getting teased. “B-but people are sleeping.”

Humming in fake consideration, Jean licks his lips and strokes slowly, firmly up to the head of his cock, a rush of pleasure hitting him from the way Marco scrabbles to follow. They hold it there for a second too long, until Marco’s thighs are shaking and his stomach is tensing from how empty he feels, but for the head of the toy teasing him open. Just as Marco’s eyes lose focus and he starts to look desperate, Jean strokes himself fast back down to the base and watches Marco impale himself again, dropping onto the toy with a bitten-back cry that filters out into a needy little whine.

“Goddamn,” Jean breathes, his hips wriggling at the way that feels and the way it looks, god, watching Marco reel from how good it hit him. “Want it?”

“Y-yes, Jean, yes, fuck,” Marco whispers shakily, his voice heavy with it. “Please, Jean? P-please, fuck me, I want it…”

“So good for me, Marco.” Marco’s so good, so compliant with Jean’s teasing that the blonde can’t help but give in to his boyfriend. Not when he looks like that, wiggling his hips so the head of the toy rubs inside him so nicely, watching his soaked cock strain against his abdomen with it.

Jean toys with him just a little longer, giving him a few more of those deep, hard thrusts with teasing grinds between, before he gives in and strokes himself the way they’re both desperate for.

Jacking his cock quick and hard, Jean rolls his hips up into his grasp with increasingly noisy moans, watching Marco fuck himself breathless on his toy and try to hold in his sounds. Jean knows, though. He knows if Marco was here wrapped tight around his dick and bouncing in his lap, he’d be crying out for him, his voice raspy and needy and his cock slapping wet against his stomach, and his hands would be gripping Jean’s thighs tight and twitching when he bucks up and drives his cock up just as Marco falls onto it.

His breath colors the air with Marco’s name, stroking himself faster at the way his voice right in Marco’s ears obviously sets him on edge, god. Marco’s whining for it, fucking himself hard, and they’ve dropped the game entirely because Jean’s grip is stuttering and Marco’s dropping himself onto his cock in deep, quick thrusts with his head tilted back against the chair.

“’M so close, M-Marco, fuck—”

Marco nods, cracking an eye to watch Jean’s hand as he moves his hips impossibly harder, the creaks of his chair loud in Jean’s ears. The face he’s making, fuck, Jean fucking loses his cool.

“You gonna come for me, Marco? Wanna see you come, come for me, p-please—god, wanna feel you come around my dick, feels so good when you’re squeezing around me and screamin’ my name and lettin’ me fuck the come out of you, c-c’mon let me feel it, give it to me, Marco—”

When he’s this close, Jean’s voice drops low and raspy. He’s fighting it, though, waiting for his boyfriend to come for him, unwilling to miss any sounds he’s gonna make. It has Marco’s eyes crossing at how it must sound right against him, like Jean’s whispering it right into his ear as he pounds his cock hard into his sweet spot.

“JeanJeanJeanfuck—” Marco manages, losing all rhythm and just searching helplessly for the way the blunt head of his cock nails his sweet spot, and he just barely manages to palm at his twitching arousal and press it up against his stomach when he’s coming, head thrown back, heaving gasping breaths as he twitches and tenses around the toy. His come shoots up his chest, little bucks of his hips giving away the spurts leaving him messy and debauched. Somehow, Marco keeps his voice down but for the long, trembling whine he gives when he’s fucked out, when he settles hard onto the toy and rocks against his chair wantonly.

Jean just barely manages to hold out for his boyfriend’s whole fucking mind-blowing orgasm before he imagines how Marco’s ass would feel tightening like that all hot and beautiful around his cock, and that fucking does him in. “Marco, ‘m coming, p-please, baby fuck—”

Sinking further into the sheets, Jean’s back arches and lends force to the way he fucks his hand, thighs shaking and voice echoing loud through their small room. He makes a bigger mess than Marco, given how hard and desperate he’s stroking himself through it, and he hears Marco’s quiet moans and praises whispered soft like he’s right there watching.

When he finally comes down from it, Marco’s voice is soothing between easy, even breaths in his ears, still telling him how good he looks. Jean groans and swings his leg over his laptop, dragging it over to him with his clean hand. “Goddamn, Marco,” he sighs, blinking blearily at the sweet smile his boyfriend’s wearing.

“You’re so messy, love…”

Arching an eyebrow, Jean reaches over to their bedside table for the tissues. “You got some distance yourself…” He squints at the screen, watching Marco puff out his chest almost proudly. “Did you get it on your fucking… collarbone?”

“Yep,” Marco chirps, moving to clean himself off now that he’s showed off his virility, or whatever. He’d pulled himself off the dildo while Jean was still brainless and cleaned it off, apparently.

They clean themselves up in comfortable silence before Jean reaches over to turn off the light and tucks himself in beside his laptop. “Still miss you, though,” he grouses, pulling the blanket up under his nose. Marco chuckles and moves around his room, stashing the toy back in his bag and unlocking his door before he turns his light off too and moves his laptop to his bed in a mirror of Jean’s position.

“Yeah, same.”

“Fun, but it’s got nothing on the real thing,” Jean sighs, wiggling closer to his laptop and rubbing at his eye.

“Of course not,” Marco hums, yawning widely and stretching before he curls up on his side and smiles at Jean. “What’re you gonna do for the rest of the night? Still early, you know.”

Jean rolls his eyes and fishes around the side of the bed until he finds his bag, giving Marco an extreme close-up of his chest. “Flash cards.”

“Always the flash cards, jeez.”

Giving a shrug, Jean flops onto his back and starts flipping through the cards, muttering and keeping an eye on his smiling, exhausted boyfriend until the brunette manages to fall asleep.

Just a couple more months, Jean reasons as he presses a kiss to the screen before he can feel like a dork about it.

Until then, he’ll take what he can get, even if he can’t feel on his skin the slow, deep breaths he hears through his headphones.

Chapter Text

Marco’s actually pretty lucky he made it out of the airport in one piece.

Collecting his bags, getting through security, even the whole ‘zooming over the ocean in a floating metal tube’ thing posed little hazard to him, except for perhaps skull-crushing boredom.

The hug Jean had tackled him with once he came up from the baggage claim, though, had been roughly equivalent to a chokeslam, given Jean’s bony-ass shoulders and elbows and the somewhat mad strength gifted to him by the sheer euphoria of seeing his beloved again after the longest semester of their lives.

Not that Marco had fought it. In fact, there’s security footage suggesting that Marco may have actually crushed Jean to him just as tight and perhaps swung him around in potentially dangerous circles, but Marco has conveniently forgotten that for the purpose of ribbing his boyfriend.

After their sweet reunion and extended making out in front of the Starbucks, Jean had already grown insistent, and by the grace of some god or another (namely Connie driving and yelling at Jean for trying to climb into Marco’s lap), they manage to make it to their apartment intact.

All bets are off once they get inside their room.

Marco has Jean pressed against the wall before his bags have even hit the floor, kicking the door shut with a telling slam as he gropes at Jean’s ass and kisses him like the damned. Jean’s panting against him, kissing him just as hard as he winds his hands into Marco’s soft black hair, letting himself be picked up and wrapped further around his boyfriend.

“Fuck,” Jean growls, arching into the rough grind of their hard cocks through their pants. “Fuck, missed you so fuckin’ much—”

“God, yeah, Jean,” Marco manages, rolling his hips into Jean’s with a low groan as he bites at his lips and tries to put his hands on every part of the weedy blonde. “Missed this, ah, ‘m never leaving the country again—”

“Not without me, you’re fuckin’ not,” Jean grits out, his mouth moving wet down Marco’s throat and savoring the taste of his skin. “Was dyin’, dude, fuck.”

“Me too, god I missed you.” Marco pins Jean to the wall harder, thrusting his hips into his boyfriend’s with a shaky groan. “Want you so bad—”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck, yeah,” Jean whispers, pointing to the lube and condoms already on his desk with a wide, lecherous grin. He’d expected nothing less, except the possibility of a half-conscious, jetlagged Marco. Apparently, his boyfriend had more than kept himself going with buckets of coffee, given the frantic way his hands move under Jean’s shirt.

“In a minute, just—” Marco unwraps Jean and sets him down again before falling right to his knees and mouthing at the bulge straining against Jean’s thigh. The blonde gasps and lets his head fall back, digging his fingers back into Marco’s hair. He lets Marco rip open his pants and tug them down, giving a tense laugh when he groans at the lack of underwear barring him from his boyfriend. Marco wriggles further between Jean’s thighs until he’s got them looped over his shoulders, Jean barely still standing, more supported by the brunette’s broad shoulders.

“Fuck,” he moans, his breath hitching before melting into a loud, grateful moan when Marco swallows his cock down in a few good, wet sucks, his tongue lavishing over him and his cheeks hollowing. His broad hands run over Jean’s sweet ass, up his back, over his hips and his stomach as he bobs his head deep and moans around his mouthful, eyes sliding closed again. “Fuck, Marco, ‘s so good, fuck—”

Jean melts under Marco’s attention, his hand catching one of Marco’s and lacing their shaking fingers tight. He watches his boyfriend suck his cock fucking good and wet and tight, god, moaning for him with no care for keeping his voice down. As good as it feels, though, sitting on his boyfriend’s shoulders and watching him take his thick cock in his mouth, Jean’s impatient to feel Marco again.

“B-babe, please, c’mon—want you, god, need it, please?”

Marco buries his nose in dark curls and swallows just to hear Jean’s keening moan before he sucks slowly off again, taking a deep breath and nuzzling against his slick cock. He shifts to let Jean stand again, but just pulls him down into his lap to kiss him, moaning into him even as he holds him closer.

Barely pulling away from Jean, Marco reaches up to the desk and grabs the lube, letting the blonde pull open his tight pants while he rips off his shirt.

“Damn, Marco,” Jean murmurs, shoving his hand right into his underwear and wrapping his hand around him. “Italian sun did you some good, yeah?”

“Guess so,” he replies, rocking up into Jean’s tight grip and pulling the blonde’s shirt off too. He groans and drops the lube between them, running his hands up Jean’s sides until he can rub at his nipples with rough thumbs. Jean shivers at the attention, wiggling in Marco’s lap and letting his mouth fall open on a soft moan. “So beautiful, Jean, god I missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah—” Jean pulls at Marco’s pants with one hand and pushes at his own with the other, both moves rendered ineffective by the way he’s shaking for it. “C’mon, love, c’mon.”

Marco nods, stealing another quick, messy kiss as he helps Jean mostly out of his pants, slicking his fingers with lube. Jean leans back against the wall and hooks one knee over Marco’s shoulder, arching his hips toward him. Marco licks his lips, reaching down to quickly pull his cock out of his boxers so it’ll stop distracting him, and peppers the inside of Jean’s pale thigh with small kisses as he works a finger slowly into him.

Sighing softly, Jean arches into Marco’s finger and reaches for his boyfriend’s free hand so he can lace their fingers tightly. “C’mon, it’s okay—”

“Don’t wanna hurt you—”

“Fuck, Marco,” Jean says with a breathy laugh, leaning his head back against the wall. “You can’t feel it?”

His eyebrows arched in question, Marco looks between them to watch as a second finger slides into Jean, and yeah, it does seem easier going than expected. Marco blinks, then laughs and leans forward to kiss Jean deeply, whispering, “You fingered yourself before you picked me up?”

“S-something like that. I’m—ah, f-fuck—” Jean arches up and shivers when Marco curls his fingers firmly into his prostate, watching him writhe with a lopsided grin. “I’m i-impatient, Marco—”

“I guess so,” Marco murmurs, slapping around on the desk until he finds a condom and ripping it open with his teeth. He rolls it on and slicks it with more lube, leaning up to shove his pants down to his thighs. Then he’s pulling Jean’s other knee over his shoulder, the blonde’s back braced against the wall, and when he leans in for another kiss, he presses into him with a low, raspy moan.

Despite the urgency, Marco takes his time rocking his hips into Jean, drinking in his sweet little sounds as he fills him up and slides home. “Fuck,” he breathes, drawing it out long against Jean’s lips. His hands move from Jean’s ass over his thighs, back down and up his chest, over his shaking shoulders, brushing warm fingers across Jean’s exposed throat and into his hair, taking his time and memorizing his boyfriend like they’d been apart a thousand years. “Jean, Jean… god, Jean, I love you.”

Marco shuffles forward so Jean’s more firmly in his lap and grinds his cock up into him, his hips moving torturously slow and so promising.

“God, l-love you too, Marco, fuck.” Jean rocks back against him, his eyes blown dark from lust, lips bitten red parting on soft moans. Marco wiggles again, sliding Jean’s legs off his shoulders and winding them instead around his waist, smiling at the way Jean holds him tight and spreads his thighs open so Marco can see himself buried inside of him.

“Looks so good, baby,” Marco hums, leaning back just enough to see clearly how he spreads Jean open and shivering at the visual. “So damn good.” He grins up at Jean and rocks his hips up into him again, humming when Jean’s thighs grip him tighter. Instead of moving, though, Marco slides one hand down and runs his thumb gently along the slick, stretched ring of Jean’s entrance, worshipping slowly the way they’re joined. “Wish you could see how pretty you look around me, Jean, wow.”

“Nerd,” Jean breathes, his hands resting easily on Marco’s shoulders. He goes to speak again, or perhaps to plead for his lover to move, but his words fall into a gasping whine when Marco pulls back and rolls back in smoothly, and this time he doesn’t stop.

Marco runs his fingers over Jean’s entrance again, staring almost disbelievingly at the way Jean takes him and holds him tight, before sliding his hands back to Jean’s hips and dragging his gaze up to his flushed face.

“Feels so good, Jean.”

Jean whimpers Marco’s name and pulls him closer so he can kiss him again, and Marco gladly presses them together and swallows his boyfriend’s little sounds. He moves forward again, pinning Jean to the wall, and when the blonde arches and keens, eyes squeezing shut, Marco can’t help but move his hips faster, harder into him, chasing the way Jean gasps for him.

They’re overcome with that urgency again easily, Marco speeding until he’s bucking his cock deep into Jean’s tight ass, wringing loud moans and stuttering cries of his name out of him, dizzy from how good it feels to be pressed against Jean again, how good his sweat tastes, how he calls his name into his shoulder, how tightly he holds him. Marco groans into Jean and pulls at him, wrapping him tighter in his arms as he pounds into him, until he curls his fingers around the blonde’s ass and uses his grip to bounce Jean on his cock. He moans louder, gasping Jean’s name, but the way Jean cries out at every hard thrust echoes around the room and overrides Marco’s desperate sounds.

“M-Marco, fuck, fuck just like that—” Jean rides hard onto his lover, his eyes squeezed shut from the pleasure and his thighs shaking from how good Marco fucks him, filling him up deep and hard and just right, just how Jean likes it. The way Marco slams him back down into his rough thrusts just adds fuel to the fire, leaving Jean a sloppy, gasping, pleading mess against him.

Neither of them are ready to come yet, not just yet, but it’s building between them, and Jean’s shaking and throwing his head back with cracked screams of Marco’s name, fingers gripping tight and sliding in their sweat as he bucks desperately for it.

Marco knows he’s about to lose it. He reaches between them and, speeding his hips until he’s about railing Jean through the damn wall, wraps his fingers around Jean’s dripping cock and strokes him hard, fast, just how he likes it when he comes, and Jean falls apart for him so perfectly.

Somehow, he manages to watch Jean arch and tremble and drag his nails over Marco’s shoulders as he cries out for him, coming hard and messy on both of their stomachs. Marco gasps and slams his cock into Jean’s incredible tightness, nearly mindless from the way Jean shakes around him, and he strokes his cock and fucks his orgasm out of him until the blonde’s face and his cries and his body yank Marco right over the edge with him. Eyes rolling shut, Marco gives a shaking growl of Jean’s name, his hips still desperately seeking that amazing feeling up until he can’t take the sensation anymore and he buries himself into his lover with a heady gasp.

It’s a while before either of them can think coherently, instead just shaking together, holding each other, their foreheads resting against each other’s until they come down from it.

Jean seeks out his boyfriend’s lips weakly, trembling hands coming to press against Marco’s cheeks almost reverently. They kiss softly, still not quite up to the task of speaking but more than happy to settle for this until then.

It takes a good week until Jean and Marco stop terrorizing their housemates with their insanely noisy sex, and another after that until they stop making fucking goo-goo eyes at each other all the damn time.

When Connie grouses over breakfast one day that they should just get fucking married already, they look at each other again, and this time they seriously consider it.

Chapter Text

“So let me get this straight,” Jean says, barely containing his laugh as he digs the heel of his hand into Marco’s aching shoulder blade, eliciting a low groan. “We don’t really exercise, the most flexible you get is when I kinda almost bend you in half—there?” Marco groans again and nods, burying his face further into a pillow. “’Kay. And you’re surprised that a yoga class kicked your ass?”

“It’s harder than it looks,” comes the pathetic, muffled reply, which Jean can’t help but chuckle at.

“Dude, have you ever looked at one of those little yoga girls? Annie could crush your head with her thighs.” Jean squirts some more lotion into his hands and rubs firmly at Marco’s shoulders, wringing more long rumbles out of him as he moves slowly down his boyfriend’s sore back.

“Christa made it look easy, and she said it’s a good workout.”

Jean pauses, arching his eyebrow at the back of Marco’s head. “Babe. Christa makes everything look easy, one, and two, it’s a good workout for people who work out. For people who only exercise by nailing each other to the bed, it’s brutal.”

Marco just groans miserably, arching a little under the firm pressure of Jean working his knuckles down his spine.

“What’s with this weird health craze you’ve got going now, anyway? The yoga and the fucking… green shit you keep bringing home.”

“Kale.”

“Kelp, more like.”

Sighing, Marco turns so he can peer at Jean over his shoulder, considering him. Jean raises his eyebrows, taking a break from his knuckles to run his palms firmly over Marco’s back, trying to smooth out some of his aches.

After a few minutes, Marco mumbles that he’s good, humming appreciatively when Jean lays across his back and kisses him on the cheek. He laces their fingers together when Marco reaches over his shoulder and wiggles his, kissing up to his temple and nuzzling at his freshly-showered, nice-smelling black hair. “Seriously, Marco. If you start making fucking kelp smoothies I’m having you committed.”

“Thanks for the support,” Marco quips, his sarcasm ruined by his soft chuckles and the little hums Jean’s warm, bare chest against his back and his loving smooches bring out of him. “I dunno, it’s just better to try and be healthy, right? Supposedly makes you happier, live longer, that kind of thing.”

Jean leans up and props his chin in his palm, bending his feet up and crossing his ankles idly. “Are you unhappy?”

“’Course not,” Marco hums, nuzzling into the pillow some more. “Got you, how could I be?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, gummy bear.” Jean squeezes his hand and squints at him, pursing his lips. He tries to think back over the last few weeks. Summer tends to all blur together for him. Between his lab work and his fearsome leet gaming, he’s not been great about keeping track of the days. Marco breathes easily under him, eyes closed. Probably so he doesn’t succumb to Jean’s pointed staring.

After a while, Jean leans back down and nuzzles into the nape of Marco’s neck, closing his eyes as he thinks harder.

Marco hasn’t been sick, no one in his family’s been sick, he’s been going to work and studying and doing the same things he always does… nothing out of the ordinary, really. Oh, except they’d gone clubbing a few weeks ago, that was new. Well, the LSD was, anyway.

Jean’s eyes flash open as he remembers suddenly Marco having been unusually ornery about his clothes that night, picking at hems and making faces, and he leans up and stares down at his boyfriend again.

“Marco.”

Wincing slightly, Marco squints up at Jean, knowing he’s been caught.

He hadn’t even noticed Marco having issues with his body. Fuck. Sure, they were both a lot skinnier in high school, and they’d gotten pretty rough with the freshman fifteen, but a rapid upswing in the… vigor of their sex life and an effort to watch what they’re eating had pretty much taken care of it. Well, for Jean, anyway.

With a soft groan, Jean buries his face in Marco’s shoulder and squeezes him like a bony koala backpack. His thighs spread a little wider over the backs of Marco’s, spreading him across his boyfriend easily. “Babe, how come you never said anything?”

“Dunno,” Marco sighs, picking at the pillow. “You haven’t seemed bothered by it, so I mostly just tried not to think about it, you know? It just kinda snuck up on me.”

Jean sighs and looks back up at Marco, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Why the fuck would I be bothered? You’re you, Marco, that makes you fine as hell.” He trails his free hand down Marco’s side, the slide feeling the same as always to him. “You also happen to look hot at all times, so that helps.”

Marco doesn’t respond at first, just letting Jean pepper little kisses over his cheek. After a while, he feels Jean peering at him, so he mumbles, “The sexy jeans don’t fit.”

“Jesus, Marco,” Jean breathes, a smile crossing his face. “You’ve had those since like junior year of high school.” Marco squints at Jean, silently requesting his point. “I mean, no one fits into high school jeans. Shit, I don’t.”

“Your butt filled out.”

“And yours didn’t?”

Marco purses his lips, eyes wandering. Jean squeezes his fingers again, then sits up on Marco’s thighs. “I know it’s kinda subjective, but I think you’ve got a rockin’ hot body.”

“I know, I know…”

“Dude, we both got kinda chubby freshman year, remember? The ramen diet didn’t do either of us any good. I remember having to, like, hide half my wardrobe under my bed in shame.” He pauses, running his hands down Marco’s back again. “But we both lost weight, yeah? Bodies change. It’s biology. Don’t judge your fucking rad self now on your lanky little high school twink body.”

Laughing despite himself, Marco rolls his shoulders, hugging the pillow again. “There’s more butt than there was before.”

Jean pauses, eyes widening slightly. “Baby.” Marco hums and blinks up at Jean again. “Marco, baby, please do not tell me you’re presenting that to me as a negative thing."

“Uh.”

“Oh, love, bear.” Jean sighs, squeezing at Marco’s sides. “How does that line go? Something... oh. I’d go down on you until I’m forced to evolve gills. Or something.”

Marco laughs again, his shoulders shaking from it, which drags a grin out of Jean. “I think that’s for going down on girls.”

“You say that like it matters. I’d eat you out for a week straight if I didn’t have peptides cooking at the lab. Your ass is a fucking work of art, okay. I have proof. I’m staring at it right now, and even in sweatpants the booty is poppin’.”

“You’re a giant nerd.”

“You love me.”

“It’s true,” Marco sighs, somehow feeling cheered up, aside from the brutality that was yoga.

Jean runs his palms over Marco’s lower back, fingers sliding through lotion that hadn’t soaked in, and he disguises his blatant checking-out of Marco’s ass as rubbing his back some more.

“I wasn’t kidding,” he murmurs after a while. “You have the fucking greatest ass in this whole damn city.”

“Thank you. I think yours is pretty great, though.”

“No, nonono,” Jean sighs, giving up on his charade and moving to grab at Marco’s ass through his baggy pants. “You do not understand. You’re gonna laugh at me, but I don’t care. Sometimes when you bend over, I pop a fucking raging hard-on staring at you. And when you crouch down to get something out of the bottom cabinet, it’s game over for me. The thirst consumes me.”

“Is that why you keep putting things in that cabinet?”

“Yes.”

“Jean,” Marco laughs, peering up at him again. “… Wait, seriously?”

“Yes!” Jean kneads Marco’s butt gently, curving his thumbs under the cheeks with a low hum. “I’m not kidding about the boners, either. Why do you think all my shirts are so long?”

“… O-oh.”

“Yeah, man,” Jean murmurs, squeezing again. “This is a gift from god, no lie. When you go reverse cowboy on me it’s like a religious experience.”

“Jeez, Jean.” Marco buries his bright red face in the pillow again. Of course it’s fucking cute when Jean goes weak in the knees for dirty praises, but having it turned back around on him flusters him more than he’s willing to admit.

“Actually,” Jean says, hot and low right against Marco’s ear, bending over him again. Marco shivers from that alone, but then Jean’s shifting again, and then he’s grinding his incredibly solid cock against Marco’s ass with a soft groan. “You too sore for it?”

Marco swallows, licking his lips and wiggling his hips up against Jean’s dick with a hum, a smile already curling across his cheeks. “If you’re nice to me, I think I could take it.”

“Oh, I’ll be so nice to you.” Jean grips Marco’s hips again and rocks against him shamelessly, leaning in to bite at Marco’s ear. “I’m gonna take good care of you, promise.”

With a nod, Marco arches up so Jean can slide his pants down, the blonde sitting back to watch the fabric slide over his (definitely fine) ass with another soft groan. Marco grins and swivels his hips teasingly, spurred on by the way Jean’s breath escapes in a shaky exhale.

“Baby, you’re so hot. No idea how bad you get to me.”

“Good,” Marco mumbles, scooting his knees up so he can spread his thighs and arch his back in a way he knows makes Jean dizzy, and the strangled little choke from behind him confirms it.

Shucking his own pants more than a little eagerly, Jean scrambles off the bed to dig through the end table. He pulls out the lube and a condom before sliding back behind Marco and running his hands slowly down from his shoulders, tracing the tight arch of his spine, until his hands come to rest again on his sweet ass.

Although he’d brought it up half-jokingly, Jean makes good on his promise, settling behind Marco and nipping gently at the soft swell of flesh under his fingers. He squeezes and slides his thumbs in along Marco’s entrance before following with his tongue, and the brunette’s breath hitches in his chest when Jean spreads his tongue over him and moans against him.

He takes his time against Marco, his hands still moving and groping him as they spread him open for his tongue. When he stiffens his tongue and presses it against him more insistently, Marco shivers, giving a low moan. Jean slides his tongue into him slowly, pressing his lips against him as he does, eyes sliding shut as he works Marco open with deft little thrusts.

“J-Jean, damn,” Marco sighs, letting his thighs slide further open for him. Jean hums, letting out a breathy chuckle at the way Marco shivers, and fucks his tongue faster into his boyfriend as he slides one hand around to tug firmly at Marco’s hard cock. “B-babe…”

Jean presses harder against Marco, curling his tongue and humming into him before he pulls away again and gently slides a finger into his boyfriend.

“Is that comfortable? The position, I mean.”

“It’s okay.” Marco rolls his shoulders, trying not to own up to the stiffness down his back, but Jean knows him better than that. He pulls his finger out and presses Marco back onto his stomach, letting him arch his hips up just enough that he’s not lying right on his sensitive dick.

“Told you I’d take care of you,” Jean whispers against Marco’s shoulder, leaning up to kiss his cheek before he straddles the backs of Marco’s thighs again and pops open the lube. He slicks his fingers and takes the time to make sure it’s not cold before he rests one hand on the small of Marco’s back and slides his finger back into him. “Don’t wanna make you more sore than you have to be.”

“Mm, you’re so good to me,” Marco hums, melting under his boyfriend’s warm hands, relaxing around his slowly-thrusting finger.

“You dealt with my ass for, like, all of school, dude,” Jean laughs, carefully working a second finger into him. “And then somehow still wanted to date me. This isn’t even a fraction of your karmic payoff.”

Biting his lip around a laugh, Marco arches his back a little further and shivers. “I figured you’d stop being an ass eventually.”

“Maybe one day.” Jean curls his fingers toward Marco’s stomach with a grin, watching him shiver and arch into the feeling. “Feel good?”

“Y-yeah.” Marco rocks his hips back onto Jean’s fingers slowly, his teeth catching his lip again. “Mm, Jean…”

Jean leans down again and nuzzles against Marco’s ear, murmuring sweet nothings against his cheek as he works him open on his fingers, opening him up for a third and smiling against him. He rubs his fingers firmly against Marco’s prostate, praising the soft moans that elicits, and when he pulls out, the way Marco arches back with a grumpy little sigh makes Jean laugh.

“Got something better for you.”

With a quiet sigh, Jean rolls the condom on and slicks himself with lube. After a moment’s hesitation, he tries to be covert about wiping off the precome he’d left dripping down the inside of Marco’s thigh as he’d worked him open. He’s not lying about what Marco’s ass does to him, bless his heart.

Straddling Marco’s thighs again, Jean lets his boyfriend spread them slightly and arch up for him before he steadies his cock and presses against him. He takes it slow and easy, sliding into Marco in gentle, rhythmic thrusts until he’s got his hips pressed against his boyfriend’s phenomenal ass.

“Feels amazing, Marco, god…” Jean presses warm kisses along Marco’s shoulder as he rocks against him, grinding just slow enough to have him breathing in quick little pants. “You’re so good, so perfect.”

“Jean,” Marco moans softly, bringing one hand up to bury his fingers in messy blonde hair. Jean leans up and lets himself be pulled down for a kiss, his hands gripping the sheets as he starts a steady, deep rhythm, angling his hips down so his cock rubs all along Marco’s sweet spot. His breathy little moans are fucking addictive, leaving Jean shivering against him.

Jean sits up after a moment so he can grab at Marco’s ass again, letting out a shaky breath at how the soft flesh feels under his hands. He spreads Marco open gently and watches his cock move into him shamelessly, moaning softly and thrusting deeper, Marco’s moans growing more frequent as he does.

Watching that threatens to get Jean too worked up, threatens to remove his self-control, so he wiggles up Marco’s thighs a little and balances himself above him again, focusing on making Marco moan for him. He keeps his deep, grinding pace, but lets himself speed up, and the change has his sweet boyfriend shaking under him and burying his darkly-flushed face into the pillow again.

“Jean, ‘s good right th-there,” Marco whines, his lips parting on a stuttering sigh. “Faster, please?”

Jean complies with a soft groan, picking up his pace enough that his hips bounce against Marco’s ass with quiet sounds that have him fucking reeling for it. He doesn’t dare look down again, not trusting himself with the way Marco’s ass has to be moving, instead leaning down to bite at his shoulder and his neck and his ear, breathing soft moans over his warm skin.

“Fuck, ‘s really good, Jean.” Marco swallows and spreads his thighs wider, rocking back eagerly onto Jean’s cock with whimpering little moans.

“S-shit, Marco, that feels—fuck, amazing. Gonna make me come ‘f you keep moving like that…”

Marco responds by thrusting back harder, taking Jean deep and gasping at the way his cock hits him. He clings to his pillow and shivers, moaning Jean’s name in a needy little mantra. “J-Jean, more, more, god, ah—”

“Come for me, Marco,” Jean moans into his ear. “I’ve got you, baby, c’mon—” Jean lets himself fuck Marco harder, pounding into his tight heat with barely-muffled moans. He reaches one hand under Marco and squeezes his cock, and the quick, loose grip Jean keeps on him along with how good his dick feels inside him has Marco trembling for it.

“Y-yeah, fuck, Jean—don’t stop, please don’t stop ‘m right there—”

Jean bites into Marco’s shoulder in an attempt to keep himself from coming before he takes care of his lover, but the pressure of his teeth has Marco reeling, rolling his hips back hard and gasping Jean’s name. Then Jean squeezes his cock and slides his finger through his precome-soaked slit, his hand slick and dripping with it, and that’s more than enough.

Marco lets out loud, whimpering cries and shakes as he comes over Jean’s fist, his ass tightening incredibly around his boyfriend’s cock, and Jean has the mercy to slow down as he follows Marco over. He moans Marco’s name for him, their bodies pressed tight together, and he grinds his cock deep as his messy hand grips tight at his hip. Rocking his hips into Marco until he’s stopped shaking, until Marco’s relaxed and isn’t wringing mind-bending waves of pleasure out of Jean, he collapses against the brunette with a brainless little moan.

They kiss softly for a moment before Jean pulls out with a whimper and flops over next to Marco, throwing his arm back over his waist to snuggle him close. They stay like this until Jean, seemingly remembering the mess his boyfriend had made, rolls off the bed to get a towel so they don’t end up cemented to the bed with jizz.

After Jean’s got them both cleaned up and tucked warm under the blankets, more than ready for a nap, Marco nudges his nose against Jean’s to gently get his attention.

“Hngh?”

“Thank you, Jean,” Marco mumbles, kissing the tip of Jean’s nose. Bleary amber eyes open, squinting. “Just for being you, I s’pose.”

“Alright, gummy bear,” Jean sighs, happily stealing another kiss. “You’re welcome for me being an ass hound.”

“That too, yeah.” Marco lets the silence stretch for a while before he speaks again. “I’m gonna keep doing the yoga, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Grinning widely, Marco tickles at Jean’s ribs. “You wouldn’t believe how flexible Christa is.”

“I’m really surprised Ymir hasn’t eaten you yet,” Jean grouses, mostly to hide his blush. He vows not to think too strongly about Marco in yoga pants and pretty much instantly fails. Burying his groan in Marco’s shoulder, he wraps himself around his boyfriend and lets Marco laugh into his hair.

Chapter Text

Marco is by no means dissatisfied with his and Jean’s sex life. How could he be? Jean’s hot, he’s energetic, and if you give him five damn minutes he can be ready to go again. Like the fucking Energizer bunny. Plus, the way he screams Marco’s name gets him so hard it’ll knock him brainless if he thinks about it unexpectedly.

When they found out accidentally (at the Christmas party, no less) that they’d also managed to out-kink Ymir and Christa, it was something of a shock. That takes serious doing.

So it’s not that Marco is or ever could be dissatisfied with how he and Jean make love. Banish the thought.

No, it’s more that Marco’s a gentle creature and very kind-hearted and all in favor of slow, lengthy lovemaking between them, but sometimes he would really like it if Jean would just fuck him so hard he can’t walk for a week.

Surprisingly, when Jean tops, he’s very gentle with it. For someone who comes hardest when he’s tied down and bent back so Marco’s fucking him rough at an angle that’s so good it’s almost painful, he likes to take his time with Marco. He likes to put his hands all over him and trail his mouth after them, to slowly worship him to crumbling, to slide his (excellently-curved, fucking pierced) cock inside of him and take him so high it’s near impossible to come down.

If Marco wants more, all he has to do is ask, but in the end he sets the speed when he’s on bottom. He wonders sometimes what it’d be like to fully give the reins to Jean and let control slip from his mind altogether.

--

Marco’s had the thirst of a dying man in a desert for something like two weeks. Midterms, papers, piles of flashcards and Monster cans and coffee cups littered throughout the apartment… the works. Nothing would ease the stress like a good rough fuck, but the library they’ve been camped in for the last twelve hours just is not the place for the volume Marco wants to hit.

He’s been staring at Jean for nearly ten minutes, burning a hole in the side of his head with his eyes, when his boyfriend leans back in his chair and slides his fingers under his glasses with a groan.

Even the ‘I hate inorganic chemistry’ groan is getting Marco hot, as long and kind of nasally as it is. Plus, he’s always liked Jean in glasses. And Jean’s hair is starting to stand on end from running his hands through it (like he does when Marco’s sucking his dick particularly well). And he’s arching over the back of his chair slightly to pop his spine out of Gollum mode, which makes his tightish shirt ride up over his stomach and shows off the line of light curls trailing into his pants, and then his hips arch up from his chair just a little…

Marco literally drools on himself. He is ashamed. But also very, very thirsty.

When Jean’s done rubbing his eyes and grumbling, he blinks over at Marco and immediately turns bright red. “Um.”

“Hi,” Marco says, not bothering to adjust his obvious ‘staring-at-you’ posture.

“H-hey.” Jean shifts his gaze for a moment, the flush spreading to his ears, before he manages, “Fish are friends, not food.”

Interesting. Marco quirks an eyebrow and sits up straight. “Tell that to the sushi you ate earlier.”

Jean laughs, running a hand through his hair again before lacing his fingers on his head. That pose makes his strong arms look fantastic. “You’re looking at me like the Finding Nemo shark. Gonna eat me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Marco sighs slowly and looks Jean over again, half to make him squirm and half because he fucking wants to, before he looks around the empty wing they’d set up camp in. When he stands, holding a book he’d given up on reading a while ago, he makes no move to hide the way his hard cock is obviously tenting his loose jeans.

He ‘casually’ meanders toward the shelf the book belongs on, swaying his ass in a way he knows Jean is helpless against. It totally works. His boyfriend materializes close behind him in the aisle and shimmies right into his space, so he braces his hands against the shelf and leans back into his warm chest with a little smile.

“Hi,” Jean murmurs against the side of his neck, his palms sliding slowly across Marco’s ribs, down his stomach, until he can curl his long fingers around Marco’s hips and squeeze. The path of his hands is enough to have Marco squirming slightly, heat coiling throughout his body.

“Hey there.”

“How’s your paper?”

“Mm,” Marco hums, tilting his head so Jean can trail warm, lingering kisses up to his ear. “Not what I wanna be doing right now.”

“I gathered,” Jean says with a husky laugh, his breath hot over Marco’s ear, and just as he bites gently at the angle of his jaw, he drags one hand down to palm at Marco’s cock. It feels great when Marco’s this pent up, but he bites back his little moan and instead gives a shuddering sigh. He rolls his hips into Jean’s grasp easily, making sure to rock back hard with each move. Jean gives a rumbling, near-inaudible sound and squeezes Marco through his pants.

“Y-you know,” Marco murmurs, leaning his head back on Jean’s shoulder as he grinds his ass against him, “Not all of us can hide boners as easily as you. Don’t even have anything to cover it with.”

“Who’re you hidin’ it from?” The smirk is fucking audible, especially in the little hum Jean gives when he slips his hand into the loose waist of Marco’s pants, down into his boxers, and slides his long, slender fingers over his boyfriend’s aching cock. “Just you and me up here…” Marco chokes on a little whimper and grips the shelf tighter as he tries to find the coherence to suggest jogging home. Hell, maybe sprinting. Before he can open his mouth, though, Jean’s wrapping his free arm around Marco’s waist and closing his hand around his arousal with a deliciously firm squeeze.

Marco gives a soft whine and rolls back against Jean again, wiggling temptingly, and he drops his head forward with a shiver when all he gets in response is a low chuckle.

“I’m guessing you want something a little more than a blowjob in the library, huh.”

“It’d be nice,” Marco replies with a tense laugh, freeing one of his hands to rest on the arm holding him tight against his boyfriend. He gasps when, rather than pulling his hands away, Jean gives him a slow stroke, teasing at his foreskin with deft fingers. “I-it’d be really nice, Jean, please?”

“Mm, got another chapter and a half yet…”

Marco squeezes his eyes shut and groans before he turns to throw a dirty look over his shoulder. Jean just gives him a maddening little smile, watching him over his glasses. He brushes soft kisses over Marco’s shoulder and strokes him again, then shifts to grind his dick against Marco’s ass with a sigh.

“But ‘m bored, and your idea sounds way better.”

“Thank god.”

Jean pulls his hands away almost regretfully, squeezing Marco’s sides before he takes a step back, and the moment he does he finds himself pinned to the shelf behind him. Marco kisses him brainless, rocking their hips together with a quiet whine. He breathes more soft sounds against Jean when the blonde drags his palms down and grabs Marco’s ass, squeezing and pulling them together more firmly with his grip. Marco pulls away to take a deep breath, thighs nearly spread across Jean’s lap, and whispers, “Let’s go home, yeah? Want you so bad…”

“Oh yeah?” Jean grins, and Marco whimpers. Jean’s in one of those moods. “What d’you want me to do to you, babe?”

Marco takes a second to seriously try and remember what floor in this damn building it was that Armin managed to get plowed without being caught, because he’s not entirely sure he’s gonna make it home at this rate. “J-Jean…”

Arching his eyebrow, Jean slides his fingers deeper between Marco’s thighs and squeezes again, his hands so promising and teasing and dominating. “Mmm?”

“Love, please?” Marco dips his head to breathe a softly moaned curse against Jean’s neck, edging the gentle warmth with a sharp little nip to try and get his way. He rocks harder against his boyfriend, hands gripping the shelf for support and leverage, but Jean’s clearly got himself more under control than Marco, because he just meets his needy thrusts with groping hands and impossible patience.

“The sooner you tell me,” Jean whispers, biting along Marco’s jaw slowly, “The sooner I can take you home and do it twice.”

Marco can’t silence the needy moan he lets out against Jean’s shoulder in time, but he’s kind of stopped caring. He digs one hand into Jean’s hair and tugs, relishing the brief moment Jean shivers for him before he’s back in control. Jean hums in response, and before Marco can tell him what he wants, Jean pulls one hand off his ass and brings it down again with a muted smack.

Its meaning is not lost on Marco. Oh god.

He freezes for a moment before pressing harder against Jean and biting at his ear, his breath coming harder the more Jean fucks with him. “I w-want you, Jean, god… want you to fuck me hard, make me scream your name, make me come for you. P-please, Jean, please…”

Jean doesn’t respond to that at first, not beyond a dark chuckle that sends a thrill down Marco’s spine and has his cock twitching in his pants. He slides his lips slowly, lightly up Marco’s throat, a satisfied rumble escaping him when Marco tilts his head back without a second’s hesitation. Jean’s lips catch on exam-season stubble as he presses a promising kiss to his bobbing Adam’s apple before he finally murmurs, “Mm, sounds good…”

The stuttered, ragged agreement catches in Marco’s chest when Jean fucking drags his tongue back down, flicking the tip into the hollow of his throat, making sure he can feel the ball of his tongue ring pressing against sensitive skin as he goes. “But you know I like taking my time.”

Marco could cry.

Instead, he tilts his head to the side, looking at Jean out of the corner of his eye as he bites his lip. He blinks slowly and tries to decide how he feels about that. Marco knows exactly how he wants it, and dammit, he wants Jean to fuck him raw.

Jean smiles at him, though, and licks his lips before he leans up to breathe, “So ‘m gonna take my time when I’m fuckin’ you so hard your eyes cross.”

Oh god.

Marco’s eyes roll closed, his hands coming to grip Jean’s shoulders tightly, his back arching when his boyfriend squeezes his ass again and drags them together roughly.

“’M gonna be so good to you, Marco,” Jean rasps, one hand sliding up the back of Marco’s shirt and spreading warm fingers up the curve of his spine. “You’re gonna be screamin’ for me, gonna feel so good with my dick fillin’ you up, hm? Gonna hold you down and bend you in half, fuck you so hard we break the damn bed. Gonna make you come all over yourself, so hard you’re seein’ stars. And you know what?”

It takes Marco a second to realize Jean’s asking him a question, but the most coherent response he has is a soft whine. It’s enough.

“When you’re shakin’ under me and fucked out and sensitive from coming…” Jean grins against Marco’s ear, licking his lips before he murmurs, “I’m gonna keep fucking you.”

And then Jean rakes his nails down Marco’s back and grinds his thigh hard against his boyfriend’s aching cock, and it’s only because of the hand still thoroughly groping his ass that Marco doesn’t just fucking fall to his knees. They’re shaking bad enough.

His panting breath catches on a choked whimper, eyes squeezed shut tight, but Jean’s not done yet. He gives a low moan and slides his arm around Marco’s waist, holding him steady, which should be a warning in and of itself. Marco’s too busy straining to catch every word his boyfriend presses into his ear, though, desperate for those filthy promises.

“I’m gonna fuck the come out of you, Marco. Hope it gets on your face, you look so good like that, all dirty.” Jean pauses to run his tongue up Marco’s ear, squeezing him when the brunette gives a tiny, flustered whimper. “Think you’ll be able to take my cock just after you came? ‘Cause I’m not slowin’ down. You’re gonna be calling my name, shaking and wiggling under me, so pretty. But I’m so fucking pent up, Marco, been so goddamn horny. Fuckin’ sick of exams. I need this, baby. I need it.”

Marco’s fucking brainless against Jean, barely holding himself up as he ruts roughly along Jean’s thigh and muffles his moans with a shaking palm tight over his mouth, but Jean spares him no mercy.

With a low growl, he sinks his teeth into the base of Marco’s neck, and then he slaps his ass again, and it takes everything Marco has to not just fucking come in his pants. He gasps into his palm and trembles, toes curling in his shoes, and the more Jean bites and sucks, the darker he makes the first of many marks on Marco’s skin, the more light-headed he feels.

“G-god, fuck, Jean,” Marco manages, opening his eyes despite the fireworks behind his eyelids. Jean moves his thigh in time with his boyfriend’s hips, obliging him and driving him crazy with it. If not for the way Jean’s holding him, the bruise he’s still sucking into his skin, Marco would fucking drop to his knees right here and swallow Jean’s cock for him. Jean knows just how to get to him.

Pulling away with a wet sound, Jean licks his lips and his teeth clean and leans up to kiss Marco breathless. It’s too needy to last, though, with the way Marco’s pulling at Jean and trying to get more from him, anything he can get as long as he gets it right here.

“C’mon, babe,” Jean breathes, sliding his hands to Marco’s hips and firmly separating them, much to their mutual displeasure. “C’mon, let’s go home. I wanna hear you nice and loud when you’re begging for me.”

Marco stares at Jean for a moment, obviously disheveled and not quite with it, until he reaches into his pants and tucks his precome-soaked cock up into the waistband of his boxers and hopes for the best.

They don’t run home, but it’s the fastest they’ve ever gotten there regardless.

Jean crowds Marco against the door to their apartment before he’s even got his keys out and mouths up the side of his neck, hands sliding under his shirt and over his tense stomach as he rocks his hips hard against Marco’s ass.

“J-Jean,” Marco manages, pressing his fist to the door with his thumb and his index finger extended in an ‘L’ shape; their agreed-upon ‘time-out’ signal. Jean slows down, peering at him over his shoulder with a hum to show he’s listening. “S-same as always. ‘Yellow’ to slow down, ‘red’ to stop.”

“Gotcha.” Jean sucks at Marco’s earlobe, his hands still moving soothingly over his boyfriend’s stomach. “‘Green’ for okay?” Marco nods feverishly, rocking his hips back against Jean. “Anything you don’t want?”

“You have a p-plan, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Jean moves his hands out of Marco’s shirt and brings them to rest gently on his hips again, holding him still. “Tying you up okay?”

“Oh, h-hell yeah.”

“And you’re cool with the—”

“Th-the overstimulation thing?” Jean nods, his fingers squeezing. “Yeah.” Marco flashes Jean a grin over his shoulder, his face already flushed bright and his eyes dark with want. Jean smiles back, kissing his ear lovingly. “Always wanted to try it.”

“Your lucky day then, huh.”

“Seems so.” Marco turns further, his lips parting, and Jean meets him for a gentle kiss, his arms sliding around Marco’s waist fully and holding them together.

“I love you, Marco,” Jean murmurs against his lips, nudging his nose against his lover’s cheek. Marco smiles, then licks his lips, taking a deep breath before he returns the sentiment. Then he pulls his fingers back into a closed fist against the door, and time-out’s over.

Jean shoves Marco up against the door and fucking growls in his ear, one hand sliding up into messy black bangs and pulling Marco’s head back against his shoulder. He ruts his hips against Marco’s ass as his free hand runs up the brunette’s shirt, only to scrape his nails down his chest with a shuddering sigh. Marco whines for it, one hand searching his pockets for his keys.

They tumble into the apartment once Jean lets up enough that Marco can figure out how doors work, chucking their bags and their shoes, and Marco yelps when Jean dips and catches him around the thighs and fucking hauls him over his shoulder. Jean carries his boyfriend straight to the bedroom, feeling Marco wiggle out of his shirt as they go.

He dumps Marco on the bed, placing a possessive hand on his chest to push him into the sheets.

“You gonna listen for me?” Marco licks his lips and nods. “Gonna be good?” Another nod, even as Marco wiggles further up the bed. He watches Jean look him over slowly, obediently stripping out of his pants without having to be asked. “Yeah, look at you. I know you’re gonna be good for me.”

Jean bites his lip and gives a soft moan, watching from the end of the bed and palming at his trapped cock while Marco shimmies out of his underwear and is left bare. Crossing his long legs easily, Marco sucks on his lip and waits for Jean’s instructions.

“You’re so patient, Marco,” Jean sighs, pulling his hand off his dick so he can pull his shirt off. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and stalks over to the bedside table. When he pulls the drawer open, he holds up his hand in the same ‘L’ shape Marco had and asks, “Condom?”

With a hum, Marco purses his lips and considers. “Yeah, sure. Keep the lube nearby in case it gets dry, though.”

“’Kay.” Jean closes his fist, then rifles through the end table until he’s got the lube, a few condoms, and pair of sturdy wrist cuffs, the chain connecting the padded restraints clinking when Jean holds them up for Marco to approve of.

“Mhm, green,” Marco says quietly as he reaches down and grabs his ankles out of habit. He may be smiling softly, sitting patiently while he waits for his boyfriend, but the way his cock stands tall against his stomach, half-hooded and slick with precome, gives away how much he’s anticipating this. A thrill runs down his spine when the thought hits him again; Jean’s going full dom on him. He can’t help but be excited, wiggling his butt to turn more toward Jean.

“Looks like the walk home cooled you off, huh?” Jean kneels on the bed in front of Marco as he asks, sliding his fingers through dark hair and fisting enough to tug his head back slightly. “You were so needy in the library. Should’ve just fucked you right there, had you screaming in the quiet section.”

Marco licks his lips and peers up at Jean, his impatience returning slightly. He starts to shift, to move onto his knees as his hands reach for Jean’s pants, but another light tug warns him against that. Breathing a soft whine, Marco inches his hands across the sheets toward his boyfriend, silently pleading with him.

“Why d’you think I brought these?” Holding up the restraints, Jean gives them a shake before he unhooks one and wraps it comfortably around one of Marco’s wrists. “You’re being so good, love. But quiet.” After Marco gives a nod to confirm that the cuff is okay, not too tight, Jean inches closer, looming above him and forcing him to keep eye contact. “You promised to make so much noise for me, right?”

Nodding dimly, Marco wiggles again, his voice raspy when he speaks. “’Course I’m gonna. Want you so bad, Jean…” He bites his lip and glances briefly at the bulge trapped against Jean’s thigh, eyes flickering obviously warmer before he drags his gaze back to Jean’s. “Can I touch you?”

Jean gives a short laugh and ducks down to kiss Marco quick and dirty, sliding his tongue between his lover’s lips just enough to have him leaning in eagerly for more. Instead of obliging him, though, Jean pulls up again and points to the headboard. “Get on your knees and elbows, facing that. Gonna tie you to the headboard, make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

Quick to obey, Marco rolls and crawls up to the headboard, laying his wrists helpfully by the sturdiest of the wooden slats so Jean can bind him to it. He shifts his knees so his thighs are spread temptingly, arching his ass out toward Jean, who runs his hands over him with an approving groan. He shifts behind Marco and rolls his still-clothed cock against his boyfriend’s bare ass with a sigh, before he spreads his fingers over Marco’s hips and slides his palms burningly slow, powerful and firm up his arched back, across his broad shoulders, before his fingers curve around Marco’s strong arms and continue their promising path down to Marco’s waiting wrists.

The fabric of his jeans rubs against Marco with every movement of Jean linking the chain behind the slat, connecting the restraints before he straps the other one around Marco’s free wrist. He checks the restraint, nodding at Marco’s quiet approval, and he drops one last soft kiss against the brunette’s ear before he leans up again and takes full control.

“Damn, Marco,” Jean sighs, squeezing his lover’s ass again, fingers curving around him and pressing, pushing. “You look so good with your ass in the air like this, you know. Never get tired of seeing the way you arch your back toward me. Needy little thing, aren’t you?” Marco shivers, his position encouraging the way he wiggles his hips toward Jean with a little moan. “Mm, not needy enough, though.”

Jean scoots back a few inches, putting that bare space between himself and Marco, before he makes good on his unspoken threat in the library and lands a solid smack against Marco’s ass. The brunette jumps, a surprised squeak escaping him. He’s already wiggling, though, rocking his hips back for more, which Jean can’t help but smile at. It’s no secret to him that Marco likes the way his handprint looks on his ass, even the next day.

Marco whimpers and leans his face down onto the sheets, arching toward his suspiciously quiet boyfriend. His fingers wind around the chain keeping him bound to the headboard, grounding himself with that even as he rolls his hips and gives a pleading gasp.

“Mm, you’re so hot, Marco,” Jean murmurs, his hand soothing his boyfriend’s ass for a moment before he pulls off and smacks again. This one earns him a low moan and a sultry little squirm, the temptation leaving Jean’s mouth dry. “You know how good you looked fucking yourself on my leg in the library?” Smack, a pleased whimper. “Trying to keep quiet with that hand over your mouth…” Smack, a shivering gasp. “Didn’t work, huh. And now you can’t even reach, can you?” Marco shakes his head, his breath panting out hot over the rumpled sheets. “Gonna get those noises out of you, Marco.” Smack, a breathy moan.

“J-Jean, god,” Marco gasps, spreading his thighs further, shamelessly exposing himself for Jean’s fingers.

Not only do the fingers not come, though, Jean crawls around until he’s in front of Marco, then swings one knee over his lover’s bound arms so Marco’s faced with Jean’s straining, confined arousal. He licks his lips and tries to move his hands to unfasten Jean’s pants, whining quietly when he realizes that the chain is nowhere near long enough.

Staring down at Marco, Jean runs his hands through his boyfriend’s soft hair again, brushing it off his face. “You wanna suck my dick?” Marco nods eagerly, at which Jean raises an eyebrow.

Letting out a slow breath, Marco shifts his weight more firmly onto his elbows and looks up at Jean through his eyelashes. “Jean,” he sighs before he pauses again, fidgeting.

“Yeah, babe?” Jean tilts his head, his fingers tightening in Marco’s hair as he arches his hips closer to his lover’s flushed face. “What’s up?”

Marco fidgets again and bites his lips, giving the impression of weighing his options even though they both know Marco’s not coy about talking dirty. Quite the opposite, in fact. Rather, he’s stalling because he’s trying to earn himself more punishment, trying to convince Jean to take full control. This does not escape Jean’s notice, nor his interest.

Jean scoots forward, closing the last bit of space between them, and uses his grip in Marco’s hair to hold him still while he rubs his aching cock against his boyfriend’s cheek with a low moan. Marco’s eyes roll closed, doing his best to nuzzle against the warm hardness rocking into his face, but Jean adjusts him so all he can do is take it. “You want something, Marco?”

Shivering, Marco opens his eyes again and looks up at Jean, who stares right back down at him like a challenge. “Jean, can I suck your cock?”

“Mm, needy,” Jean breathes, even as a victorious smirk crosses his lips. “Go on, take it out, then.”

Marco squints up at his boyfriend, giving the chain a pointed rattle. Jean just laughs at him and shifts to rub his bound cock against Marco’s lips teasingly.

“Use your mouth, if you can’t use your hands.”

It takes a second, but when Marco gets it, his lips part on a long, low moan and his hips wiggle excitedly. He takes a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and collect himself, hot breaths panting out over Jean, before he opens them again and zeroes in on the catch of his boyfriend’s pants. He leans forward and drags his tongue up the long, thick outline of Jean’s cock, tracing along his undoubtedly uncomfortable arousal until he’s kissing up the fly to the button.

Jean watches, half amused and half extremely turned on, as Marco tries to figure out his plan of attack. The brunette scoots forward again, his ass arched high in the air, and he gives Jean a quick, cheeky nuzzle before he opens his mouth and goes for it.

It’s definitely harder than he’d anticipated. He hooks his front teeth over the edge of the fabric above the button, absolutely allowing them to scrape over Jean’s light happy trail, then uses his bottom teeth to attempt to gently ease the button out of the catch. His boyfriend is exactly no help the entire time.

Truth be told, this is way fucking hotter than Jean had expected.

Marco’s eyes are closed in concentration, his hips rocking side-to-side idly behind him, and he still occasionally tries to use his hands to help him, based on the way the chain keeps rattling against the slat. Jean wants to run his hands all over Marco, to pull him into a warm kiss, to fuck his brains out already, but dammit, he has a plan and Marco’s almost got the button out. Totally worth it.

When, with a helpful push of his tongue, Marco gets the button through, he doesn’t bother holding back his excitement. He flashes Jean a huge grin, wiggling his ass, and Jean licks his smiling lips and runs his free hand down his boyfriend’s flushed face. That’s about the extent of his congratulations for now, though Marco’s likely to be hearing about it from tonight until hell freezes over. He can see it in Jean’s eyes anyway, the weird sort of pride.

Jean pushes up his glasses and tugs on Marco’s hair again, urging him toward the (significantly easier) zipper. This part’s no problem. Marco leans in again, nuzzling more blatantly this time at Jean’s cock, before he catches the zip in his mouth, hooks the eye easily around the pointed tip of his canine, and grits his teeth. From there, he dips his head and pulls the zipper down, and he has his victory.

Also, Jean’s not wearing boxers. Again.

Thank god.

Marco uses his nose to push the flaps of Jean’s now-loose pants aside and buries his face in soft, dark curls, a content hum rumbling from his lips and tickling at his boyfriend’s skin. He leans up, flexing his shoulders enough that he can reach Jean’s navel, and easily nips his way back down like he always does. He nuzzles against Jean more the closer he gets to the tense base of his cock.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, flicking his hot gaze up to Jean. “It’s been stuck down your pants for so long. Doesn’t it hurt?”

Shrugging, Jean relaxes his fist and smiles down at Marco, instead combing his fingers gently through his hair, a reward for his obedience. “Sure could use some air.”

With a squint, Marco tests the length of the chain again before he nudges his forehead insistently at Jean’s hips. Jean obliges him, leaning back until he’s almost sitting on Marco’s hands, and he really shouldn’t be that surprised when searching fingers immediately pinch his ass. He narrows his eyes, but Marco just grins playfully, his tongue poking out between his teeth. Jean rolls his eyes to save face.

Marco’s fingers reach up again and grab hold of the loose seat of Jean’s pants, at which point he sucks insistently at the low ridge of Jean’s hip bone to urge him back up onto his knees.

If Jean stalls for a moment, biting back a soft moan at the sensation, neither of them say anything.

When Jean comes back to kneeling, Marco’s grip on his pants manages to pull the fabric down over his tight ass, and from there it’s just a matter of Marco using his teeth to yank the material down enough that Jean’s cock can spring free, insanely hard and already leaving a streak of precome across Marco’s cheek where the pierced head bumps him.

“Mmm, hello,” Marco hums, arching up again so he can swirl his wicked tongue around the head. He gives a low moan at the taste, moving his soft lips and warm, wet tongue down the shaft as he mouths his way down along Jean’s length. When he hits the base, he flattens his tongue against the underside and drags up slowly, so slowly he’s gotta be fucking with Jean, and the little smile curling the corners his lips confirms it. Jean clicks his tongue and fists his hands in Marco’s hair again, but there’s no venom in either move.

He kind of wishes Marco would quit being so adorable, because he’s not entirely sure he’s supposed to be feeling such incapacitating warm fuzzies when he’s about to be wrecking his boyfriend, let alone when he’s meant to be the dom here.

Oh well.

“Jean,” Marco breathes, leaning up to brush his lips against the silver ball resting just under the head of Jean’s dick, his tongue flicking gently at the piercing and the sensitive flesh around it. The sensation has Jean shivering as his breath picks up in anticipation. “Can I suck your cock?”

“Thought I answered that question already.” Jean nudges his cock forward, smearing warm precome all along Marco’s flushed lips. Marco darts his tongue out and licks at the slick trail, not breaking eye contact. “You want it?” Nodding slowly, Marco licks his lips again and tries to lean up to run his tongue over the head, but Jean pulls back just out of his boyfriend’s reach. Marco whines, god, his hips wiggling impatiently.

There it is. Jean blinks down at his lover, tracing the curve of his back with his eyes down to Marco’s long, beautifully-spread thighs. He wants to see Marco getting impatient again, getting needy, begging for Jean and moaning and gasping for him. He wants to watch his boyfriend lose it entirely, and somehow he thinks that’s what Marco wants too.

Breathing a sigh, Jean looks Marco in the eye again, his lips parted slightly and his gaze piercing. He watches the brunette’s strong jaw work in a swallow, a small shiver running through him, and figures Marco must catch his intent from the intensity of his expression. He runs his free hand across Marco’s shoulders, chills visible on his dark skin in the warm, promising wake of Jean’s fingers, before he pulls Marco’s head back slightly by his hair and murmurs, “Open.”

Marco takes a moment to swallow again, staring up at Jean. He parts his lips easily, though, opening his mouth wide enough for Jean’s cock and sliding his tongue out in invitation. Perfect.

Jean can’t help the sharp thrill that shoots through him, heat curling low in his gut at the way Marco just… obeys him.

It’s fucking hot.

Keeping Marco’s face turned up, Jean moves his free hand to grip the base of his cock, hesitating for just a moment before figuring, ‘why the fuck not.’ He breathes a quiet laugh, then another at Marco’s raised eyebrows. Then he goes ahead and slaps the slick head of his cock against Marco’s tongue.

Marco doesn’t laugh, somehow, but he does moan and stick his tongue out farther, and that just fucking turns Jean on more, a groan rumbling low in his throat. One, two more slaps before he lets the head rest on his tongue, just in time for a thick drip of Jean’s precome to slide into Marco’s mouth. Immediately, Marco swirls his tongue around the head of Jean’s cock with a soft moan, his eyes still not leaving Jean’s.

“You want it?” Jean asks again, something like the third time, his breath hitching when Marco pauses and slides the tip of his tongue firmly around the ball in Jean’s slit. He moans at the way Jean’s precome tastes, eyelashes fluttering for just a moment.

“Jean,” Marco breathes, his lips brushing Jean’s cock entirely purposefully. “Please fuck my mouth, love.”

Jesus.

Jean needs a fucking second to process that, his eyes widening in sync with Marco’s smile. He quickly regains control, though, and tilts his head at his boyfriend.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?” Marco nods, his lips catching Jean’s piercing gently. “Want me to fill you up here?” Jean pushes his thumb between precome-slick lips and hooks it over Marco’s bottom teeth, gently easing his mouth open again. Marco slips his tongue out again, drawing it over the head in a broad swipe and sighing when Jean makes no move to dodge him or tease him, instead moving his thumb to stroke over Marco’s cheekbone. “You bein’ needy, baby?”

“I’m greedy,” Marco breathes, shifting his knees against the bed. “Want you to fill up my mouth, then I want you to fuck me like you promised in the library. Want it all.”

Humming in agreement, Jean loosens his grip in Marco’s hair and leans over to grab the lube off the nightstand. The chain rattles against the slat behind him as he does, though, which catches his attention. Marco’s still balanced on his knees and elbows, his hands bound by the cuffs and thoroughly incapacitated, but he’d still tried something, and the look on his face betrays that utterly.

Still seeking Jean’s rough treatment. He almost smiles.

“Hm, see, I dunno, Marco,” Jean says as he slicks his fingers with lube far too slowly. “Have you been good enough for your mouth and your ass to get fucked?”

Marco squeezes his eyes shut, chills breaking out over his skin again, and before Jean can ask him how he’s doing, Marco’s pinning him with a dark, heated gaze and clearly trying not to rock his hips into nothing. Jean’s willing to bet that if he looked, Marco’s cock would be achingly hard hanging between his shaking thighs, a thick trail of clear precome running between the head and the wet sheets below him.

His voice warm, low with arousal, Marco asks, “You don’t think so?”

“Mm, debatable.” Jean scoots forward again and rubs the warm head of his cock against Marco’s cheek, easily dodging his attempts to turn and take it into his mouth. “You keep trying to cause trouble, I think. I hear you pulling at the chain.”

Biting his lip, Marco shakes his head. “I was just shifting.”

“Oh yeah?” Jean scoots forward again until he can sit on his calves, keeping them tucked on either side of Marco’s trapped forearms so that, while he is sitting on them, they won’t fall asleep under his bony ass. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Breaking eye contact with Jean, Marco moves his gaze to his cock, so temptingly sitting barely an inch in front of him. He doesn’t even bother trying to be subtle about licking his lips. In interest of being good, though, Marco resists, obediently keeping himself from opening up and just taking it in. He looks back up at Jean, humming, “You’ll have to trust me.”

“That’s unscientific.” Jean spreads more lube over his fingers and sets to warming it, smirking down at his lover. “How about this. You know I always get the truth out of you; I’ll fuck your mouth, but if you were lyin’, that’s all you get. All night.”

Marco’s jaw drops, visibly appalled by the threat. So he was definitely lying, then. Jean watches him mull it over, his free hand coming to stroke his cock idly in the meantime.

After a moment, Marco looks back up at him and nods, putting on a (rather unconvincing) brave face. “Honest men have nothing to hide.”

“Alright then,” Jean says, leaning up onto his knees again. “Open.”

Marco opens his mouth, and this time Jean guides his cock into that perfect, wet heat with a low moan, the sound growing louder when Marco groans and closes his lips around him with a sigh.

Fuck.

He spreads the lube over a third finger again just to kill time as he slowly slides deep into Marco’s mouth, over his wet tongue, and oh into his throat, and Marco has more than enough experience to be able to relax and take Jean’s cock all the way to the base. His nose brushes soft curls again, Jean’s thighs shaking, and Marco takes the liberty of hollowing his cheeks around him and swallowing.

“Oh, fuck,” Jean moans, his eyes crossing more than a little at the amazing sensation. He rocks his hips back, though, enough to pull the head back so that Marco can breathe, but that’s about the limit of his patience. Marco’s, too, if his eager wiggles are any indication.

With another low sound, Jean starts out slow and easy, just how he always does. His cock slides perfectly into Marco’s incredible mouth, his tongue and his hollowed cheeks and his hums and the little movements of his head enough to have Jean gasping.

He can’t help but watch for another moment, moving faster just to watch how Marco’s lips flush red as he drags his cock over them, sealed tight around his shaft. Marco’s eyes are closed, but his thighs are shaking, and little whines squeak out of him whenever Jean pulls back too far.

Jean sighs, and he speeds up again, encouraged by Marco’s muffled noises and his steady sucking and whatever insane movements his tongue is doing against the underside of his cock.

Leaning forward over Marco and trying to keep his thrusts even, Jean slides his slick fingers along Marco’s entrance with a sigh. His lover whines, thrusting back against him even as he starts bobbing his head more insistently into Jean’s thrusts. Fuck.

Fuck, Jean can’t handle this. Not thrusting his hips and his fingers at the same time, it’ll blow his mind. Probably literally.

“M-Marco,” he breathes, looking back down into his lap. “Marco, suck me off, babe. ‘M gonna pass out if I keep it up.”

As Jean’s hips slow to a stop, Marco pulls off with a gasp and says, “’S okay, c’mon, want your fingers…”

The little laugh Jean lets out is strained. “You just want everything, huh.”

“Always,” Marco murmurs, nuzzling into Jean’s thigh as he shifts slightly to be able to suck him off while still allowing Jean to reach him and work him open. “Want all of you.”

Jean hums in response, leaning slightly to the side so Marco has more room to move. He’s about to ask if Marco can reach him okay when the brunette slides his tongue up his cock again, curls it around the head some-fucking-how, and then he’s taking him in and bobbing his head and sucking eagerly and Jean’s seeing stars.

When he finally remembers to sink a finger into Marco, his boyfriend is impatient, rocking his hips back against Jean’s hand with needy whines. He’s fucking distracting, though, putting everything he’s got into sucking Jean’s brains out through his dick. His wicked tongue and intense sucking aside, his lips are incredible, his mouth is hot and wet, and he’s making those gorgeous little noises more and more frequently.

Marco tilts his head and sucks down everything Jean has, swallowing again, and Jean realizes that he once again forgot what he was doing.

Soft black hair lightly brushes his stomach as Marco moves over Jean’s cock, his forearms tensing and flexing under Jean’s ass, and oh yeah. He’s supposed to be fingering him. Damn.

The tip of his middle finger is already inside Marco, so he just works the rest of that finger inside with slow, easy thrusts, breathing soft praises at the way Marco arches and moans for him. So perfect.

Even though the angle is shallow, Jean knows where to aim so the tip of his finger hits Marco’s sweet spot. When he finds it, Marco actually has to stop entirely, his lips wrapped around the head of Jean’s cock, just so he can rut his hips back desperately into that touch with high, wavering, muffled moans. Jean waits until Marco has started sucking his cock again to slip a second finger into him, slick with excess lube and thick enough to have him keening, his thighs and his hips shaking.

“You like that, baby?” Jean’s surprised by how raspy his voice is, his need distorting the way his words sound. Marco gives a long whine in response, his ass tightening around Jean’s fingers and his cheeks hollowing around Jean’s cock again.

Marco’s hanging in there, but barely, and the way he’s falling apart for Jean is making him fucking light-headed, making him crave more.

He licks his lips and stares down into his lap, wishing he could see the face Marco must be making right now. Beautiful, slick lips stretched around Jean’s fat cock, his head bobbing as far down as he can go like it’s still not enough, eyes squeezed shut, cheeks flushed dark… Jean moans, twitching his hips up into Marco’s quick rhythm, and spreads his fingers inside of him before thrusting them harder.

Jean grows braver and rolls his hips perfectly in time with Marco, the head of his cock sliding into his throat for just a moment. Marco really likes that, tightening around Jean’s fingers again, and his little whines somehow turn pleading, wordlessly begging Jean to keep doing that, to keep fucking his mouth, and now that Jean’s found a rhythm with his fingers, he thinks he can.

Marco gets used to it quickly, even though he’s half-brainless with need. He finds himself easily keeping up with the rhythm of Jean’s hips, the same rhythm he’s fucking his fingers down into his prostate with, and they’re both fucking moaning for it.

“F-feels so good, Marco,” Jean murmurs, letting his eyes slide shut. Marco rocks his hips back harder onto Jean’s fingers, his sucking growing sloppy with Jean’s movements. It’s okay, though. The messy, wet sounds of his cock slipping out of Marco’s mouth before he swallows him down again are fucking addictive.

Jean groans and picks up the pace with his fingers, with his hips, and when he slides a third finger into him, Marco stops again to suck at just the head of Jean’s cock. The noisy sounds of approval he lets out at being opened up more have Jean slowing his hips back down so he can hear them better. Marco rewards him by laving his tongue over his piercing, flicking the tip firmly and ridiculously quick between the two little balls.

The pause actually comes at a good time. Jean hadn’t been pacing himself, so he’d been getting dangerously close. He shakes his head to clear it, blinking his eyes widely before running his free hand through Marco’s hair again and tugging gently. His boyfriend knows to pull off, even though his lips seem reluctant to let go.

Marco leans up as much as he can toward Jean with a breathy whimper, begging for Jean to kiss him, touch him, anything, but Jean leans over him a little further so he can thrust his fingers deeper, quicker. The soft cry that feeling wrings out of Marco is muffled against Jean’s hip, his lips sliding over whatever pale skin they can find, until Jean pulls his fingers out and moves out from in front of Marco.

He flops next to his boyfriend, his hands already running all over him, caressing and worshipping, and when he reaches to turn Marco’s face toward him, Jean takes a moment to memorize how he fucking looks right now. Biting his slick lips, flushed dark down over his chest, eyes hazy and half-lidded, every part of him shaking with need. Jean groans, leaning in to crush his lips against Marco’s and kissing him desperately. He swallows Marco’s little moans and gasps easily, breathing him in as much as he can while still whispering sweet love between the parting of their lips.

Jean slides one hand down Marco’s weak arm to the cuff, running his finger along the edge of the restraint in an unspoken question, and Marco immediately shakes his head hard. He turns and leans over to kiss Jean’s cheek, breathing hot for a moment before he swallows and murmurs, “L-l-leave them on for n-now. L-like this.”

His voice is rough from swallowing Jean’s cock, the blonde can’t help but notice, a thrill shooting through him even as he nods and catches Marco’s lips again. He lets himself kiss Marco deeply, indulging for the moment while both of their hearts pound and their bodies tick down from the desperate precipice they’d been riding.

“You’re shakin’, love,” Jean whispers, dragging his lips over Marco’s hot cheek, across his ear, down onto his jaw. His hands move the entire time, the tips of his fingers sliding in his lover’s sweat as they trace the tremors coursing through Marco’s every muscle. “Your knees probably hurt, too. Let me take care of you?” Jean pauses to drag his pierced tongue up Marco’s ear, breathing a little moan against him and relishing the way it makes his boyfriend shiver even more. “Let me be good to you, please?”

Marco lets out a slow, tremulous sigh, leaning his forehead against Jean’s shoulder before he nods. He doubts he could keep up like this once Jean slides his cock into him, anyway, not when his back’s arched just so that Jean’s piercing’s gonna hit his sweet spot with every move. He lets Jean kiss him again before the blonde pulls away, ripping his forgotten pants the rest of the way off and tossing them somewhere.

Sliding a pillow under Marco’s hips, Jean’s hands gently ease his lover down onto it, the soft material comfortable but damn teasing against his oversensitive cock. (It’s the designated ‘sex pillow.’) Marco leans his forehead into his elbow with a sigh, letting his eyes slide closed while Jean spreads his thighs and pulls him into position. It’s definitely much easier on his elbows and knees, and as good as the arch to his spine had been, he would’ve been aching the next day.

“You good?” Jean murmurs into Marco’s ear, allowing himself to melt over his back as he asks. Marco nods, turning to give him a small smile and a quirked eyebrow. Jean hums and leans back up, reaching over to grab a condom and the lube again. Unexpectedly, he slides two slippery fingers back into Marco with a low chuckle, spreading lube deeper inside of him and making sure he’s still relaxed, still open enough to take him. Marco whines, wriggling onto his fingers, so Jean does him the favor of rubbing tight, strong circles over his prostate.

“J-Jean,” Marco gasps, eyes fluttering closed as he grinds back, his fingers wrapping around the chain again. Jean pulls back again, though, and takes a bare moment to roll the condom over his twitching arousal and slick it with a hum.

“Ready?”

“C’mon,” is the short response, Marco already remembering the heat from earlier, from Jean’s promising whispers and his skilled hands. He arches back and wiggles again, giving an almost embarrassingly loud moan when Jean moves over him and rubs the slick head of his cock against his entrance. Marco’s far too desperate to give a shit, though. He pants and moans encouragingly, trying to rock back enough to take Jean’s cock, but his boyfriend’s hands hold him firmly where he is and keep him from satisfying himself.

“And here I thought you were gonna be good for me,” Jean fucking purrs into Marco’s ear, now obviously teasing Marco with the promise of being filled up. “Didn’t ever find out… were you behaving earlier?”

Marco whines, biting his lip as he ducks his head and squeezes his eyes shut. He pants, then looks over his shoulder, staring up at Jean pleadingly.

“You weren’t, were you.” Swallowing heavily, Marco licks his lips, honestly considering his options. Jean nuzzles into his sweat-damp hair, though, and whispers, “Don’t you lie to me, love. If you tell me the truth, I won’t be mean to you.” Jean pulls back, sliding his cock slowly against Marco’s entrance, a sigh escaping him when it slips in the lube and away from where they both want it. He just smiles, though, hovering above Marco and waiting.

Marco lowers his gaze to the sheets, rocking his hips minutely, before he shakes his head and bites his lip.

“Mm, ‘course not,” Jean murmurs, biting at Marco’s ear, at his neck, moaning softly when the brunette easily tilts his head and offers more of himself to Jean. “But I already knew that.” He bites harder at Marco’s shoulder, sinking his teeth in for a long moment as he starts rocking his hips firmly against Marco’s ass. “Better late than never, I suppose. Tell me…” Jean laves his tongue over the bare indentations his teeth had left, moving one hand to rub at the still-red imprint of his hand on Marco’s ass. “Is this enough of a warning?” Jean shifts, pulling his cock away and sighing when Marco arches back after it, and he moves until he has room to land another good, echoing slap in the same spot.

Arching his back with a loud moan, Marco tries to move back onto his sore knees, but a strong hand pressing firm on his lower back has him obeying with a whimper. Jean soothes the slap with his warm palm, dipping his thumb down to rub it teasingly over Marco’s entrance.

“J-Jean—”

Before he can beg, Jean smacks his ass again, his other hand still holding Marco down even as he tries to buck up into it. “Is it enough? You gonna be good?”

“Y-yes, yes, Jean, please—”

Jean scoots forward, both hands moving to grab Marco’s ass and pull his cheeks gently apart before he drags the heavy head of his cock down, over his entrance, down the hyper-sensitive skin behind his balls until it’s resting on the pillow and Marco’s shaking. “Mm, I hope so,” Jean breathes, squeezing again before he pulls his glasses off and tosses them on the bed. Then he’s moving over Marco again, and guiding the head of his cock against him, and the way his boyfriend sobs his name in a broken little mantra fills Jean with a strange tenderness.

“P-please don’t tease me anymore, b-baby,” Marco gasps, turning to look at Jean over his shoulder again. Fuck, he looks wrecked. Really the only way to describe the desperate expression Marco’s wearing. Jean breathes a low moan, biting his lip for just a moment, and then he’s finally pressing into Marco, and he lets his eyes roll back at the feeling.

Marco’s fucking beside himself. His hands drop from the chain to the sheets and fist there tightly, his mouth falling open and letting out loud, stuttering moans, and by the time Jean’s all the way inside of him Marco’s out of patience.

“Jean, Jean,” he gasps, tilting his head back. Rocking his hips back isn’t enough, even with the soft fabric of the pillow caressing his fucking drenched cock. Marco needs this. He needs to get fucked through the bed, needs Jean to plow him like the fucking world’s ending, needs needs needs. “Jean!”

“F-fuck, Marco,” Jean moans against his ear, his breath panting out heavy at how tight Marco is, how incredible he feels. He wants to be gentle with him, to roll his hips smoothly and evenly and build him up so good, but he knows what Marco wants. Even if he didn’t, though, Marco’s more than happy to educate him.

“Jean, fuck me, please,” Marco’s sobbing, rutting back onto Jean’s cock for the bare fraction of movement it allows him. “C’mon, come on, fuck me, Jean, please, please fuck me, ahh—”

Getting Marco this worked up takes no small amount of effort. Jean takes pride in the mess he’s made of his boyfriend for another long moment, sighing when he squeezes tight around his cock and moans his name. “You look so good, baby,” Jean says, giving Marco a slow little grind that has him frantic with his writhing hips. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

Before Marco has time to even whine in response, Jean’s pushing himself up onto his hands above Marco, and he’s spreading his knees, and he wastes no time in pulling back and then fucking ramming his cock into Marco.

He wastes no time in keeping up this way, either.

Marco’s delirious.

Jean fucks him so hard, so fast it seems like it shouldn’t be possible, and the slap of his hips against Marco’s flushed, marked ass is loud, but it’s completely overpowered by how loud Marco’s screaming.

It’s everything he’d wanted. Probably more so, because Jean’s fucking railing into him with some insane stamina, breathing loud moans of his own, gasping Marco’s name, and Marco can’t even find the brain power to beg for more. Every time Jean pulls back he leaves him nearly empty, but when he fucks him open again the force of his hips jolts Marco up the bed, shifting him over the sheets with every maddening thrust until Marco’s bracing his hands against the headboard and using his newfound leverage to push back onto Jean.

He lets Marco move back against him for a few thrusts, enough to appreciate how his ass fucking bounces against his pale hips, until the urge to take Marco over completely fills him again. Jean moans, low and savage, and moves his hand back onto the low curve of Marco’s spine, and he presses hard enough that the brunette can barely move at all, let alone swivel his hips up into Jean’s rough thrusts. Marco gives a whimpered protest, only half in English, but Jean moves over him more and brings his other hand to the small of his back as well, and Marco’s almost tempted to fucking pray.

Jean leans his weight onto his hands again, holding Marco down to the bed in complete possession, and then he fucks him harder, faster, his long thrusts switching to deep, hammering ruts that drive the pierced head of his cock against Marco’s sweet spot so fast it almost fucking knocks him out.

If he could use words at all anymore, Marco would warn Jean that he’s about to come. There’s no fucking way he can’t. He’s so fucking full of Jean’s cock, his throat is raw from screaming, and he’s being held down and fucked like Jean’s toy, his hands gripping the headboard he’s bound to as the only fucking thing keeping him present.

He feels Jean before he hears him when the blonde looms over him and groans hot in his ear, his cock reaching deeper and hitting Marco better, and when Marco’s right there, tense and tight and wailing Jean’s name over and over, his eyes rolling shut and his mouth hanging open, Jean fucking growls a warning into his ear, and Marco breaks down and sobs.

“Don’t you dare come.”

His noisy pleas fall on deaf ears, because Jean doesn’t stop owning him, doesn’t stop pinning him to the bed, and Marco’s so close, so fucking close that he doesn’t even fucking know what to do with himself besides cry and hope to god Jean has mercy on him.

Squeezing the headboard so hard the wood creaks in his hands, Marco leans his head back onto Jean’s shoulder, his begging reduced to shaky ‘pleasepleaseplease’ by the time it starts to hurt from how long he’s been on the edge. Tears streak down his face, frustration and desperation and too much fucking pleasure all twining sharp with the pain of holding back, and before he can figure out what’s happening, Jean’s arms are wrapping around his chest and their sweat-slick bodies are pressed together, and Jean fucking rolls them so he’s under Marco and holding his thighs spread wide and bent far back, and he keeps fucking him.

“C’mon, M-Marco, come,” Jean urges, planting his feet solidly and bucking his hips up so far and so fast they don’t even hit the bed anymore, the head of his cock slamming right into his sweet spot so perfectly, and Marco can’t fucking hold back anymore.

It’s earth-shattering.

The world whites out around him, oblivious to everything in existence but Jean’s whimpering moans in his ear, and for a long minute Marco’s mind just stops.

It’s so good.

He’s vaguely aware of himself gasping, of Jean’s voice in his ear and his hands on him, of his body trembling, but the only thing Marco can focus on is the overwhelming heat flowing through him.

Slowly, everything comes back to him, his ears ringing and his chest arching, his hands still tied above his head. Marco’s panting hard, his deep, rapid breaths still insufficient, and it takes him a few tries before he can swallow smoothly with how dry his throat is. His eyes stay closed while he lets himself come down.

After a while, Marco registers Jean’s hands moving over him, no longer gripping his thighs to spread him open. His legs have yet to relax, though, twitching and ticking against his chest like he’d just run a marathon. He curls his toes with a shuddering whimper and thinks vaguely about coming out of the little ball he’s in.

Maybe in a minute. Jean can handle his weight for just another minute longer.

Jean’s whispering to him, telling him reverently how fucking perfect he is, how beautiful he sounds, how good he feels. He’s still achingly hard inside Marco, it seems, but he has the good grace to stay still while his gentle hands soothe Marco slowly into relaxing.

Spreading his tense thighs slightly, Marco lets his legs fall to the bed on either side of Jean’s with a huffed moan, his back arching when the movement shifts his boyfriend deeper inside of him. Jean runs his fingers quickly up Marco’s arms, undoing his twisted restraints and easing his hands out of their shaking death grip on the headboard. With a loving murmur, Jean twines their fingers and brings their hands to rest on Marco’s chest, his arms warm around him.

“We’re gonna get a strongly-worded letter from the neighbors,” Jean says against Marco’s shoulder after a while, nuzzling into him with a little hum. Still not entirely with it, Marco makes a vaguely questioning noise, and Jean laughs quietly. “I have never heard you scream that loud. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were dying.”

“I think I did,” Marco rasps, his throat still dry.

“Yeah?” Jean hums and leans up to brush his lips along Marco’s ear, squeezing his hands. “Don’t go toward the light, babe.”

“Hnk.”

The warm laugh Jean lets out soothes Marco, enough that he starts to wonder idly about one of Jean’s many earlier promises. He licks his lips and arches down against him, and Jean sputters in his ear. “W-wait, fuck, ah—” Purely for some form of weak revenge, Marco squeezes around Jean’s still-hard cock, reveling in the stuttering moan of his name it elicits. “B-babe, hold on, god.”

Jean shifts his hands to Marco’s hips, moving like he’s going to pull out, but Marco covers them with his own and hums warmly. He waits for a moment, enjoying the opportunity to breathe evenly for a change, before he rolls his hips further onto Jean’s cock with a shaky moan.

The movement has Jean choking, his fingers gripping tightly to hold Marco still.

“U-uh,” he says, nudging his nose against Marco’s jaw to try and get his attention. “You still wanna go for that? Don’t wanna hurt you…” Jean shifts under him, but he doesn’t pull out, instead running his hands slowly down his boyfriend’s long thighs.

Rather than respond, Marco just sighs. He lets his hands rest on Jean’s as they slide over his body, down his thighs then back up the insides, the tips of Jean’s fingers pressing along little sensitive spots and sending thrills through Marco’s spent body. His head leaned back over Jean’s shoulder, Marco closes his eyes again and lets his boyfriend just touch him, the little eager twitches Jean’s cock gives inside of him making him smile.

Marco starts rocking his hips against Jean, mostly because he’s so damn sensitive he can feel every little drag of Jean’s cock inside of him, especially his piercing, and it’s kind of driving him nuts. Jean’s moaning, too, barely audible and muffled against his shoulder. He runs one hand up Marco’s stomach, over his chest, until he’s resting his palm warm against the base of Marco’s throat, his fingers curling gentle against his skin. Marco purrs and tilts his chin up for it, pulling his hands away to fist weakly in the sheets.

“N-need a color, babe,” Jean mumbles against Marco’s ear, his voice hot and breathy. He sounds more than a little fucked out, more than a little desperate, but Marco’s already not going to be walking tomorrow. Best to not make it worse.

“F-for what?” Marco circles his hips more strongly, rhythmically, about one step under riding Jean’s cock like this. The rumbling sigh against his ear tells him the motion doesn’t escape Jean’s notice.

“Mmph, f-fuck,” is the eloquent response, fueled entirely by the way Marco squeezes Jean’s cock again with a little moan. After getting it together, Jean continues, “Y-you want me to keep going?”

“Mhm, green.” Marco reaches one hand up and tangles his fingers in his boyfriend’s damp hair, a smile curving his lips again. He turns to look at Jean out of the corner of his eye, his free hand coming to rest over the one on his throat with an encouraging squeeze. “Go slow for now, though, yeah? Feels r-really intense…”

Jean lets his eyes flutter closed with a low moan before he wraps both of his arms around Marco’s waist and arches his cock up into him, both of them shivering at the feeling. “You think you’re gonna come again?”

“Mm, dunno,” Marco sighs, shifting against Jean and sliding a little in the sweat between them. “It’s okay if I don’t, though.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah.” Arching his back, Marco rolls his hips onto Jean with a little gasp. “S-still feels amazing…”

Jean nods against his boyfriend’s shoulder, pressing a dozen little kisses to flushed skin before his hands start moving again, his palms burning hot and intense on Marco’s still-sensitive skin. “Let me know ‘f you need anything, love…”

Marco makes a little sound of agreement before he melts back against his boyfriend, rocking slowly against him. Jean moans quietly, his hands sliding down to wrap around the inside of Marco’s trembling thighs. He pulls slightly, encouraging Marco to spread them wider, to relinquish control, so he does, and the way Jean moves under him is completely worth it.

More than the hands holding Marco’s thighs spread, more than the way Jean’s cock slides up so slowly, so gently into him, what’s sending shivers down Marco’s spine is the way Jean’s moaning his name. So mindblown, almost, like he’s never felt anything better. Marco bites his lip when his cock gives a twitch at that. He shifts his feet to support himself more, to ease the weight on his weedy little boyfriend, and Jean uses the bare space between their hips now to great advantage.

The stark contrast between Jean’s earlier pace and this one is almost dizzying. His possessive snarls give way to worshiping moans, his hands previously pinning and binding now running incredibly gently over Marco’s inner thighs, up to where they meet his body, shaking fingers slipping down to feel reverently at the stretch of Marco taking his slowly-thrusting cock. The steady roll of his hips matches the constant path of his hands on Marco, the feeling almost overwhelming to his blissed-out mind.

With a soft moan of his lover’s name, Marco lets himself be taken over again, tender and loving this time but just as intense. Jean’s everywhere inside of him and around him, his lips parted against Marco’s shoulder, his cock moving so perfectly inside of him, just enough to have Marco moaning for him but not enough to cause him pain or discomfort.

Jean has to be going insane, though. Who knows how long they’ve been at this, and he still hasn’t gotten to come yet. He’s sensitive still, too, based on the way his body’s shaking and how blown away his moans sound.

He sounds a lot like he’s holding back.

“J-Jean,” Marco murmurs, shivering at the way Jean’s fingers move slowly up the sensitive joins of his thighs before spreading low on his hips and dragging up his stomach. His boyfriend groans, wrapping one arm around Marco’s hips to keep him in place while he thrusts up into him. The other hand trails back up his chest, palm resting warmly over the smooth column of his throat and pressing just enough to have Marco exposing himself for it again.

Those steady, tide-like thrusts are shaking so badly with Jean’s restraint now, his moans reflecting his need. Marco squeezes around him again, breathing a low moan, but the sound whips into a little squeak when, rather than the usual twitch of Jean’s fingers or gasp, his boyfriend bites his shoulder and rakes his nails shortly over Marco’s hip. Shuddering, Jean quickly runs his tongue over the marks from his teeth, his hand flattening again over the red welts his nails had left.

“Fuck, s-sorry, babe,” Jean manages, his voice gravelly. He pauses to give Marco a firm little grind, dragging his piercing against his sweet spot with a hum, before resuming his slow pace.

Marco’s intrigued now, though, by how seriously worked up Jean seems to be.

He’s also hard again. Go figure.

Licking his lips, he spreads his thighs wider and rocks down onto Jean, and hopes to god he can handle whatever he’s asking for when he squeezes again and sinks his hips all the way onto Jean and grinds onto him in a slow circle.

He hears Jean’s breath catch, his whole body twitching under him, before the hand resting on his throat shifts up to cover his windpipe entirely and squeezes. Not enough to keep Marco from breathing, not by far, but his strong fingers wrap around and hold him down, the ragged panting against his ear a matching warning.

“C-color, color, Marco,” Jean rasps, his other arm squeezing tight while he stills his hips and waits.

Swallowing mostly just to feel his throat work against Jean’s palm, Marco moves his hands back to the sheets and whispers, “Green.”

Jean moans into his ear, the sound shaky, before he braces himself again and pulls almost all the way out, and when he rolls his hips up again, he fills Marco up with a hard thrust and grinds up into him, and Marco’s already shaking over him.

The gentle, easy pace falls away again, with Jean breathing hot against Marco while he keeps up with those hard, grinding thrusts, his hips moving so much harder but so much slower, taking his sweet time with pulling back every time. Marco’s whimpering, his eyes squeezed closed, because the aching drag of Jean’s cock inside of him is fucking intense. He feels everything, his body still sensitive from earlier, and it’s amazing.

Little moans fall from Marco’s lips with every thrust, his head still tilted back with Jean’s hands all over him, holding him down again in completely different ways. He fists his hands in the sheets and arches back into Jean’s aching rhythm, gasping when Jean’s cock hits him just right, and gives himself over to it easily.

When Jean slides his hand over Marco, releasing his hip and diving between his legs to palm gently at his balls and rest his fingers over where he’s snapping his cock up into his lover, Marco’s hard, wet cock brushes against his wrist. He lets out a surprised sound before laughing darkly, nipping at the brunette’s shoulder. Right as he drags his hand up and gives Marco’s cock a good squeeze, Jean tightens his fingers around Marco’s throat, and the way his boyfriend shivers and tenses has Jean moaning into his ear.

“L-look at you,” Jean murmurs, thrusting up harder. Marco whimpers and gasps, trying to entice Jean into giving him more with his squirming, but Jean doesn’t speed up. His movements still rock Marco against his chest, though, shifting his hands over him in a way that has Marco keening. “Here I thought you’d g-gotten enough the first round…”

Marco squeezes his eyes shut before fisting his hands in the sheets, shifting to plant his feet more in the guise of wiggling around.

“Wonder how many times I can make you come before you c-can’t get hard anymore,” Jean murmurs, giving Marco a good, hard stroke that matches his hips in slowness. He shifts to slide a finger along the slick head of Marco’s cock, grinning when Marco gives a soft little cry and bucks up into it, and toys with his foreskin just to have him really squirming. “’S that good, baby? You like that?”

Groaning and nodding, Marco moans Jean’s name softly before he shifts his weight to his feet and starts moving onto him harder, breaking his rhythm entirely and relishing the broken whimper Jean gives when he starts riding his thick cock in quick, deep movements of his hips.

“F-fuck, Marco,” Jean manages, his breath picking up and his fingers tensing. He slides his hand off Marco’s neck, to his slight dismay, but when Jean fucking claws his nails down his chest with a low growl, Marco forgets all about it. He just shivers and whines and rides Jean harder, spreading his thighs and giving himself the leverage to pull up far and drop down fast, his sensitive body crackling with sparks of pleasure from it.

Jean adapts to him quickly, thrusting up into Marco’s desperate rhythm with shaky moans, and he wraps his hand more firmly around Marco’s cock and strokes him in time, which has the brunette crying out for him. He turns and sinks his teeth into Marco’s shoulder again, biting harder this time and sucking insistently, and while he’s working a dark hickey onto his boyfriend’s skin, he rakes his nails back up Marco’s chest to leave telltale red lines across his flushed skin.

Marco’s starting to wonder if Jean dosed himself with Viagra or something, because he’s marking him and fucking him and stroking him, and he’s toying with one of his nipples and moaning through his nose, and he’s been incredibly hard this entire time.

“J-Jean,” he gasps, dropping his hips hard onto his cock with a loud, shuddering moan. Jean just slips his fingers through Marco’s dripping precome, though, and pulls off the dark purple mark with a sigh. “Jean, h-how are you still h-hard?”

Wheezing a breathy laugh against Marco’s neck, Jean squeezes his cock once more before slipping his precome-slick fingers up to pinch and roll at Marco’s other nipple as well. He picks up the pace with his hips, working hard little nubs between his fingers, and Marco shivers violently and cries out at the feeling. His hips still, letting Jean fuck up into him harder, quicker now, and the rare attention to his chest has Marco gasping.

“It k-kinda went numb,” Jean finally mumbles, punctuating the thought with another sharp bite to Marco’s shoulder and another rough thrust.

“Ah—Jean, are you k-kidding?”

Jean shakes his head, laughing when Marco whines at him. He gives Marco’s nipples another good tweak before he rests his hands on his hips and slows to a stop.

“Wh-when?”

“Mm,” he replies, hugging Marco close and nuzzling into his hair. “Not that long ago. When you started riding me, I think.”

Marco runs a hand down his face, trying to get his scrambled brain in order. Before he can, though, Jean pulls out and slides out from under him, kneeling between his spread legs with a wolfish grin.

“Just gotta do something else for a while,” Jean says, leaning down to flick his tongue against Marco’s lips, and then he’s gone. And then Marco’s arching off the bed with a broken cry, because Jean just fucking swallowed his cock in one good move, and the way he’s sucking is threatening to break Marco entirely.

“J-Jean!”

The bastard hums in reply, flicking his pierced tongue against Marco as he hollows his cheeks and sucks up, so damn slowly, until he’s using that damn piercing and his fucking tongue and his lips to drive Marco insane. He sucks at Marco’s foreskin and slides his tongue under it, around the head, flicking the tip through his slit, swallowing the precome flowing into his mouth, and Marco’s brainless once more.

He digs his hands into Jean’s messy hair, arching into his mouth and whimpering, and when Jean shifts to stroke his shaft with a tight, quick grip, he cries his name again and bucks up into it. Slipping his free hand between Marco’s thighs, Jean slides two fingers deep into him and curls them, and that insistent pressure against his abused sweet spot along with the insane motions of his skilled tongue, his strokes, his hums, the way he sucks at him, and the heat of Jean’s eyes watching… it all threatens to undo Marco entirely.

“Jean, Jean, ‘m gonna c-come if you—” Jean cuts him off by bobbing deep and swallowing Marco’s cock again, setting his rhythmic sucking to the same quick beat as the tips of his fingers. Point taken. Marco shivers, twitching and arching, and when Jean buries his nose in dark curls and hollows his cheeks and fucks a third finger into Marco, he barely manages a gasped warning before he’s coming hard into Jean’s mouth and crying out for him.

Jean swallows his come easily, and he keeps Marco breathless by massaging his prostate, refusing to let him come down until he’s whimpering and squirming and twitching from it. He lets Marco’s cock slip out of his mouth and immediately grins at him again, pulling his fingers out gently. His lover’s fucking wrecked once again, swallowing heavily and panting. Marco stares blearily at him for a second, then shakily gestures him closer. Jean pulls his now-dry condom off and chucks it off the bed before crawling up to rest above Marco on his elbows, and the broken little whines Marco lets out when he kisses him make him shiver.

He’s more than content for now to fuck his tongue slowly into Marco’s mouth, his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around his neck, but then Marco wraps his legs around him and drags him closer, gasping against him, and Jean’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Y-you—uh—”

“C-c’mon,” Marco sighs, licking his lips and leaning back to give Jean an absolutely fucked expression. He wiggles against him, shivering hard just at the feeling of Jean’s cock sliding over his entrance, and Jean swallows and attempts to control himself. “Y-you promised you’d f-fuck me out, yeah?”

‘Attempts’ was the key word there.

Jean groans weakly and buries his face in Marco’s neck, rubbing his straining arousal against him with a shudder. “Are you sure, babe? G-gonna break you…”

“Green, green, green,” Marco sighs, leaving Jean no room to doubt him. He nudges Jean up again for more kisses, every touch between them sending him shaking, and he’s really interested in what it’d feel like to get fucked like this, when every brush of skin on skin has him alight with sparks and gasping. “P-please, Jean?”

“You don’t want a break?”

Marco whines his protest and wiggles under him, reaching back to pull a pillow under his head. Jean leans up again and looks him over, his scratched-up, marked, sweaty body, and his need to come kind of breaks him. He kisses Marco again with a low moan before leaning up and grabbing the lube. Just as he’s stretching to reach the condoms, Marco squeezes him with his thighs, shaking his head gently in response to Jean’s raised eyebrows. “Not unless y-you want it. W-want you to come inside me.”

Closing his eyes and groaning for a moment, Jean shifts to sit on his heels between Marco’s shaking legs as he slicks them both up. He wipes his hands off on the sheets and runs them warm over Marco’s thighs, his expression almost intensely loving, before he presses them open and nudges the head of his cock against him again.

As he slides inside, Jean shivers and breathes Marco’s name, his eyebrows drawing together and his head tilting back. He rocks their hips together for a moment, swallowing a few times. Then he looks back down at Marco, who’s biting his lips and shivering and gripping the pillow behind his head like it’s his anchor, and whimpers.

“B-babe,” Jean murmurs, his hands caressing Marco’s thighs tenderly. “M-Marco, ‘m not gonna be able t-to go easy.” He moans again, his stomach tensing and his eyes fluttering closed as he grinds into Marco. “Feels too fucking g-good, baby.”

Marco looks blearily up at him and gives him this blissed-out, spacey smile, which makes Jean’s heart pound in his chest for entirely different reasons. “C-c’mon, Jean.”

“I-if it hurts, l-let me know, yeah?” Marco nods in response, licking his lips, and that’s about all Jean can take.

He does start easy, to his credit. Jean braces his legs and presses Marco’s knees open right and pulls back just a little, and when he rolls forward and fills him up again, both of them moan for it. Marco’s tight around Jean and shaking, little breaths panting out in quiet whimpers, and while he’s still coherent he pulls another pillow under his head so he can watch Jean move into him.

Jean’s own moans grow breathier, needier as he sets his hips to a quick rhythm, trying to be merciful on Marco even as he moves deeper, shivers harder, his muscles tensing and his dark eyes sliding over his boyfriend’s body. Marco’s focusing on Jean’s dick fucking into him with this incredible, dazed expression, flushed lips parting on spaced-out little moans whenever Jean hits him deep. He’s still clutching the pillow behind his head while Jean moves into him, thighs trembling against the sheets, and even if his face doesn’t betray how oversensitive he is, the way he’s tightening around Jean gives it away.

It’s like when Marco’s coming, the way he squeezes Jean’s cock and holds it deep inside when he comes hard, but now it’s constant, and it feels amazing. Whimpering Marco’s name, Jean speeds up again, his panting breaths loud in the relative quiet. He tilts his head back again and tries to handle how good Marco feels around him, gasping, “B-babe, you’re so tight, fuck—”

Marco blinks up at Jean as he moans loudly, licking his lips around a little whimper of his own, and when his hazy stare drops back down Jean’s tense, rocking body to watch his hips pound into him, he furrows his brow when he discovers that he is, by some ungodly power, hard again.

Oh well.

He lets go of the pillow and reaches his trembling hands out to Jean’s hips, sliding his fingers over whatever he can reach as Jean looks back down at him and gives a noisy whimper.

“M-Marco, Marco, is it okay? ’S it t-too much?” Marco blinks up at him again, taking in his bitten lips and his desperate expression, and he honestly nods. Yeah, it’s too much. Jean’s cock is spreading him open, like it has been for what feels like days, and he’s already sore and exhausted, but Jean’s hitting him so good and his hips are moving just quick enough, just hard enough, that Marco has this insane thought that he might somehow be able to come again. “Sh-should I stop?” Marco shakes his head.

“I l-love you, J-Jean,” he manages, dragging his nails gently down Jean’s hips before he pulls one hand back and wraps it around himself with a whimpering moan. He tightens around Jean even more, impossibly so, and Jean’s eyes fucking cross from it before he collapses onto Marco with a loud moan and ruts into him with shaky, uneven thrusts.

They’re both trembling, Marco stroking himself as Jean wraps his arms around him and pounds into him, and Jean manages to pull himself up enough that they can kiss messily while they both ride closer to the edge.

“M-Marco,” Jean whines against him, his hips barely moving to any rhythm anymore, just desperate to feel his lover around him. “M-Marco, baby, ‘m g-gonna come…”

“Y-yeah.” Marco wraps his free arm around Jean’s shoulders and strokes himself faster, Jean’s frantic movements driving him closer. “J-Jean, m-me too, come w-with me—”

Marco throws his head back with a gasping cry as Jean bucks harder into him, grabbing and pulling at him, and Jean cries out for him in return, their sounds spiking higher and louder the closer they get, the closer they bring each other, before Jean’s burying his face into Marco’s neck and sobbing against him and coming so hard he thinks he might break.

His body tenses hard, his hips grinding into Marco and quaking, and Marco’s twitching and gasping and his hand’s barely moving over his cock but to drag his fingers in tight circles over a sensitive spot under his foreskin as he spills weakly over his tense stomach and his eyes roll closed.

Jean’s still whimpering when Marco starts coming down, still rocking against him and holding him tightly. He buries his face into Jean’s sweaty hair and moans softly, clinging to him just as tight, and it’s a long time before either of them can think clearly.

When soft hands brush over Marco’s sides, he jumps, twitching against Jean, who gives a breathy apology before he gently pulls out. He apologizes again when Marco huffs and winces, his ass more than a little sore now that he’s thinking about it. Jean presses their lips together softly, murmuring sweet love to Marco and shifting him so he’s comfortable, so he can finally relax altogether.

He lets Jean get them cleaned up, raising his eyebrows at the way Jean turns bright red when he looks between Marco’s thighs. “Hm?”

“Th-there’s… there’s a lot. Of come. I-in you.” Jean buries his face in his hands and groans, somewhere between fending off arousal and embarrassed, and Marco just laughs and pulls him back into his warm embrace.

“I’ll regret this,” Marco hums after most of the mess has been mopped up, pressing a soft kiss against Jean’s cheek. “But let’s deal with the rest later. Sleep for a month now.”

Laughing, Jean nods, slipping his arms gently around Marco and leaning into their kiss more. He tugs a clean blanket over them and wraps himself fully around his boyfriend with a happy purr.

“Oh, by the way, you got some distance with your first one,” Jean laughs, grinning when Marco quirks an eyebrow at him. “Got it on the wall.”

Marco looks up at where Jean’s pointing above the headboard, and yup, that is definitely come. On the wall.

For a pair of grown-ass men, they giggle for an inordinately long period of time about jizz on the wall before they move back into kissing lazily and eventually blissful, exhausted sleep.

Chapter Text

Jean has never been more grateful for summer break before. Not only does he not have to worry about summer assignments because he finally peaced the fuck out of high school (meaning he graduated and only barely withheld the urge to flip the principal both middle fingers at the ceremony), he wasn’t roped into taking a summer job either. In addition to all this newfound free time, right before finals kicked in he finally figured out that his boyfriend is just as goddamn thirsty as he is. Which, of course, pleases him immensely.

Now that he doesn’t have to worry about freaking Marco out with his near-constant boners, Jean is more than happy to take advantage of the copious unsupervised hours summer promises.

They mostly fool around at Jean’s house, since both of his parents work and his asshole sister goes out all day every day. Plus, the Bodt family is a serious genetic nightmare. Between a pair of twin toddlers and a set of obnoxious triplets, Marco barely gets to breathe without tripping over a small child. His mom is a patient saint to an extreme degree. It’s obvious where Marco’s quirk of ‘the more annoyed I get, the more I smile’ comes from, but somehow it’s even more terrifying when she does it. (Even if she is a good foot shorter than everyone in a half-mile radius.)

It’s somewhere in early, humid July when Jean’s sprawled across his boyfriend in his cool basement, having pinned him to the couch and sworn to only let him up once he’s kissed the post-babysitting hyperness out of him. Marco couldn’t exactly disagree with that.

He runs his hands down Jean’s thin back with a hum, slipping his tongue easily along Jean’s as he wraps his arms around his boyfriend and squeezes him closer. Jean purrs, nipping at Marco’s lips, before he slides one hand into soft black hair and tugs gently to get him to lean his head to the side. Pressing warm, slow, open-mouthed kisses down Marco’s neck, Jean tugs his boyfriend’s shirt away from his (unfairly attractive) collarbones and sets to darkening a faded hickey he’d left there earlier in the week. Marco shivers under him, his hands fisting in his shirt.

Just when Jean shifts in his lap with a soft sigh and finds Marco’s raging hardon pressing into his hip, the sound of his fucking noisy sister crashing down the stairs covers the little whimper Marco had let out, and Jean groans loudly.

“Yanni, stop sucking face and get your shit out of the dryer,” Hitch calls from the laundry room, followed by a loud gum pop.

Jean pokes his head up over the back of the couch and shoots her an absolutely foul look. “Dude, you just fucking did a load.”

She blinks widely at him and shrugs, crossing her arms. “Those were just delicates.” A grin sneaks over her face when Jean grimaces at her for a long moment before she curls a lock of her short hair around her finger. “I’m so sorry, baby brother, did I interrupt you getting your mack on? Hi, Marco.”

Marco just sticks one hand up in a half-wave, the other busy covering his bright red face.

With the mood being thoroughly Hitched (ugh), Jean rolls off the couch and stomps into the laundry room, trying his very best to ignore his elder sister’s pointed giggles and noisy tweeting. Leave it to Hitch to tweet noisily on a fucking touch screen. He piles his laundry into the basket and grumbles out of the laundry room, leaning over the back of the couch to peer at his boyfriend.

“Let’s go upstairs, my door at least has a fucking lock.” Marco nods, swinging his legs off the couch and leading the way.

“Stop fucking humping in common areas then, commoner,” Hitch yells over the sound of the washer, which Jean loudly ignores.

After kicking the door to his room shut and dumping his laundry onto his bed (and mostly into Marco’s lap), Jean settles comfortably into his pillows to fold it before he forgets. Marco smiles and sorts it for him, listening to his boyfriend cry about having an obnoxious older sister and ‘why can’t she just live at her college all the time?’ and whatever else tickles him to cry about.

He’s midway through a lengthy explanation of his last stoned jam session with Eren (“—he should really stop playing drums, he’s shit at them but he’s good on guitar—”) when Marco raises his eyebrows and holds up a tiny, lacy, sheer blue thong.

“Is this yours?”

“Ew, no,” Jean says around a shudder. “Must have gotten stuck in the dryer from Hitch’s panty stash.”

“Oh.” Marco stares at them for a while with an extremely ponderous face, his brow furrowed, until Jean beans a folded pair of socks at him and raises a questioning eyebrow. “O-oh, sorry.”

“Dude, are you thinking about my sister in a thong?” Jean grins and jostles Marco’s knee with his toes. “You know she has, like, no ass, right?”

Marco smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not your sister, no.”

Jean raises his eyebrows. “Come again?”

“I dunno,” Marco mumbles, slowly turning bright red as he stretches the lacy waistband of the thing between his fingers. “Is it weird that I think it’d look kinda good on you?”

Wrinkling his nose, Jean tilts his head so he’s not looking at Marco through the see-through crotch of his sister’s underwear. “Blue isn’t my color, man.”

“I guess not,” he replies with a laugh. He tosses the thong onto Jean’s computer chair and leans his elbows on his knees. Jean resumes his sorting and folding, humming under his breath for a while, until Marco quietly suggests, “What if it was your color?”

Jean pauses midway through folding an ancient, hole-ridden Batman shirt. “Marco, do you have a panty kink you’ve somehow avoided telling me about?”

Marco shrugs, standing to stuff Jean’s pile of folded boxers into his underwear drawer just to have something to do while his face flushes dark again. He’s still flustered when he finishes, so he grabs the pile of socks and puts them away too, all the while acutely aware of Jean squinting at him over a faded yellow bat signal.

“I mean, n-no,” he stammers, playing with something on top of Jean’s dresser.

“Oh my god you totally do.” Jean ignores Marco’s sputter and sits up straight, his grin teasing to the point of being downright menacing. “You like lacy underwear.”

After a while, Marco looks over his shoulder again, his expression a hilarious mix of flustered and ‘why god why,’ which sets Jean cackling. How he can possibly deny being related to Hitch is a mystery, because their mean streaks are identical.

Marco drops it, mostly just to save face, and Jean lets him, mostly because he’s still laughing.

The wheel’s already turning, though.

--

A few days later, Jean’s sprawled over his living room couch, squinting up at his phone as he waits for a response to his text.

Mikasa: I’m not going to ask, so I don’t want to hear anything about it.

Jean grins wolfishly, tapping out a quick reply.

Jean: yes u do be there in 5

He stuffs his phone into his pocket and grabs his car keys, entirely correct in his translation of Mikasa’s text as ‘I want to hear everything.’

--

Honestly, he’d expected standing in Victoria’s Secret with his junior high lass crush and watching her contemplate a display of women’s underwear to be much more awkward than it actually is. He mostly just stands there with his hands in his pockets, more than a little spaced out. Jean’s never been a fan of shopping, not when it takes more than five minutes.

Mikasa makes a wonderful fake girlfriend and an unexpectedly good advice-giver in the underwear department, having been thoroughly placated by Jean stutteringly telling her on the way why, exactly, he needs help buying a few fancy thongs. Eren had been passed out on the couch, too, thanks to his completely summer-fucked sleep schedule, so Jean hadn’t had to deal with that.

“Do you want one that stretches?” Mikasa asks, breaking Jean out of his introspection.

“U-um. Wait, what? Stretches?”

She stares at him, blinking, then raises an eyebrow and pointedly uncurls her finger toward the ceiling in a marginally subtle imitation of a dick going full-mast.

Jean blinks back at her. “What’s the alternative?”

Her nostrils flare slightly, more a gesture of pondering than annoyance, until she repeats the uncurling motion with her other hand in front of her finger until it’s straight up. “Pops out.”

“O-oh.” Jean blushes, scratching the back of his head. “I dunno, which do you think?”

She rubs her knuckle against her lips, obviously missing her too-warm scarf. “How big’s your dick?”

The ‘thunk’ of Jean’s knee hitting the leg of the table is almost masked by the sound of him choking. Almost. After he composes himself and tugs the hem of his shirt down indignantly, he holds his hands an honest estimate apart. The way she raises her eyebrows questions his integrity, to which he replies with an exasperated pursing of his lips. She makes the closest approximation to an impressed face that she’s capable of before she turns and grabs a dainty little maroon thing.

“Stretchy. Much hotter.”

Jean grabs it, stretching it between his fingers to stare at it. It’s see-through, dark red, with a wide, lacy hem and a thin… butt-floss. Part. “You think so?”

Mikasa nods, tugging at the lacy bit. “This kind suits your butt more, too.”

He blinks at her. “When did you check out my butt?”

“When you started wearing pants that make your boyfriend choke.”

“… O-oh.”

Rolling her eyes, she looks over her shoulder at another display. Seemingly intrigued, she wanders over to it, then holds up a sheer little black thong with a cute pink bow over the ass. “Too girly?”

Jean scoots over to her, investigating the pretty pattern in the silky fabric as he mumbles, “I don’t care about that, man.” She tilts her head at him, so he looks back up at her and snags the panties. “I know I’m a dude, Marco knows I’m a dude, and the panties are gonna know I’m a dude.” He shrugs, then rubs the back of his neck. “Besides, he likes cute things.”

The tiny smile Mikasa aims at him catches Jean off-guard, admittedly, especially with the way her stormy eyes seem to shine for a moment. He’s almost concerned for his life when she ruffles his hair. “Any more?”

“Two should be fine, right?” He looks at them again, double-checking them to make sure his balls are gonna fit. (They will.) “I appreciate this, Mikasa.”

“I owed you from the club.” She grabs the panties, digs his wallet right out of his butt pocket, and beelines for the register, leaving Jean momentarily confused until he remembers the goth nightclub where he’d pretended to be her angry drunk boyfriend to save her from a sleaze machine. Well, more like saving the sleaze machine from her, but that’s neither here nor there.

--

It takes Jean an entire week of staring down the frilly thongs before he finally pulls it together and tries them on.

They’re awesome.

--

The next time Marco extricates himself from the baby clone army and comes over, Jean tries and spectacularly fails to be subtle about dragging his boyfriend up to his room to fool around. He nudges Marco toward the bed and locks his door, turning on some music from his stereo to cover their voices before climbing into Marco’s lap and kissing him breathless. Luckily, Marco seems to be as pent up as he is, because his hands fall immediately to Jean’s ass and squeeze wonderfully, unknowingly shifting the lacy fabric under his pants.

“Missed me or something?” Marco licks his lips and grins as he asks, slipping his warm hands up Jean’s shirt.

“Somethin’ like that,” Jean mumbles, ducking his head to bite at Marco’s neck. He shivers as Marco’s hands slide up his bony ribs, his fingers squeezing and rubbing gently at his nipples. “Mm, hey—”

“Hmm?”

Jean leans back up and kisses Marco again, flicking his tongue against the part of his lips teasingly before he leans their foreheads together and rests his hands on Marco’s cheeks. “Got something for you.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the occasion?”

“Nothin’,” Jean says with a grin, sliding off Marco’s lap again after nipping playfully at his lower lip. “Just felt like it.” Marco smiles and crosses his legs on the bed, adjusting his half-chub in his pants as he does.

While he rather doubts he could pull off an entire striptease, Jean figures he may as well attempt to lend some sexiness to the situation, so he kills his nervous fidgeting and pulls his shirt off slowly. This is kind of out of his league; so far the most they’ve done is sweaty grinding and more than a fair few blowjobs.

But, it’s Marco. His Marco. His Marco with a secret-ish panty kink. Jean tells himself that until he manages to bring back the dirty grin, running a hand through his already-messy hair as he does. Marco’s already flushing, biting his lip as he watches.

Jean drags his hands down his stomach to the catch of his pants, dropping his gaze while he slides the button open. He flicks his eyes back up to Marco then, fucking loving the way his boyfriend’s fidgeting. Worth it. Totally worth it.

Turning around, Jean arches his ass out toward Marco and pulls the zipper down, and as he slowly wiggles his pants down his hips and shows Marco what he’d gotten him (he’d gone with the red one, after much deliberation), he bends over way further than is necessary and eases his jeans all the way off.

When he finally gathers the courage to look over his shoulder and check out Marco’s reaction, the dark flush on his boyfriend’s face and his glazed expression send a wave of heat through him. He adjusts the wide lacy band resting just above his ass and, swallowing nervously, turns to show Marco the way his half-hard cock’s stretching out the sheer front of the thong.

Marco, to Jean’s surprise, buries his face in his hands with a strangled whimper and leans forward over his crossed legs. He could conceivably be speaking words, but none of it is translatable through hands and sheets and hopefully drool.

“S-so, uh—” Jean starts, his voice low, but Marco cuts him off by waving a hand at him.

“I-I j-just.” Marco smothers another whimper, dropping his hand to the edge of the bed and grabbing it for support. “J-just need a m-minute. A minute.”

Jean fiddles with the panties for a moment, adjusting them over his cock and edging closer, before he tries again. “S-so is this a good minute, or…”

“Jean, u-uh,” Marco stammers, still not coming out from his shelter. “I-I. S-sorry. I’m really trying not to c-come in my pants. Just… j-just.” His candor sends another shock of arousal through Jean, who licks his lips and comes to the edge of the bed, running his knuckles over Marco’s hand. His boyfriend surfaces again, raking both of his hands through his hair, then slides to the edge of the bed so he can trap Jean between his thighs. “God damn, Jean…”

“I’m guessing you like them?” Jean bites his lip and smiles, shivering at the way Marco’s gaze burns hot in a slow trail up from the filled-out lace. He’d expected to be more self-conscious about this, but when Marco meets his eyes, his worries melt away.

Marco’s hands shake when he brings them up, licking his lips, and he kind of hovers for a moment like he can’t decide where to touch first. He settles for resting them on Jean’s sides, then dragging them slowly, slowly to his hips and squeezing, his fingers just barely brushing the edges of the lace. Bringing his hands gently to Marco’s shoulders, Jean lets his boyfriend take it in, watching intently the way Marco's lips part when he drags his palms down over the lace, then around to his bare ass, sliding the tips of his fingers under the fabric.

A low groan escapes Marco as he pulls Jean closer and mouths across his flat stomach, eyes sliding closed and hands squeezing. “F-fuck, Jean…” He blinks up at Jean again after taking a moment, his eyes damn hot, and kisses along the arch of his ribs. “I d-don’t… uh.” Words seem to be too much of a struggle, given that Marco abandons them in favor of a raspy moan, leaning his forehead against Jean so he can stare down at his cock again. “G-god.”

Jean combs his fingers through Marco’s severely-mussed hair while his boyfriend attempts to brain, fighting the urge to just climb into his lap. This is going so much better than any of the times he’d imagined it in the last week or so, even the ones that left him panting and covered in come, and Marco’s apparent brokenness is just making Jean hotter.

“Y-you,” Marco starts, his voice cracking. “You b-bought these?” For once, Jean resists the urge to tease his poor boyfriend with his snark. He hums his agreement, scratching his nails through short black hair soothingly. “F-for me?”

“Both of us, yeah,” Jean murmurs with a soft laugh. “I’m kinda digging it too, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Marco moans, burying his face in Jean’s stomach again and wrapping his arms tight around his hips. “J-Jean, fuck, please m-marry me…”

“If you’re nice to me,” the blonde replies, grinning down at the top of Marco’s head.

“I’ll be so nice,” Marco manages, dragging his teeth almost deliriously up the soft line of Jean’s abs. “So nice, babe. I’ll… m-m-make you waffles.”

Jean honestly laughs at that, tilting his head back and swaying slightly. “Belgian waffles?”

“F-from Belgium, Jean, anything, fuck…”

“Mmkay.” Jean licks his lips, sliding his fingers under Marco’s chin to catch his stare again. “But later.” He leans down and presses his lips against Marco’s, moaning at the fervor with which his boyfriend kisses him back, like he’d been dying without it. He lets Marco kiss him, gasping against his lips, and when he pulls away with a stuttering moan and pushes Jean toward the bed, Jean obliges and crawls past him until he’s nestled comfortably in the pillows, his hard cock stretching sheer lace insanely tight.

Marco looks like he’s in danger of passing out when he stands, wobbles, and pulls his shirt off, reaching down to unbutton his overly tight pants with a soft whine. The severity of the slick spot over Marco’s arousal makes Jean raise his eyebrows, though. “D-did you come?”

Looking down, Marco stares at his underwear, then looks back up at Jean with a helpless expression and shrugs. Then he’s crawling across the bed, wiggling between Jean’s spread legs, and he takes his sweet time dragging hot, open-mouthed kisses up the inside of Jean’s thigh, already settling comfortably on his stomach. His arms loop under Jean’s thighs as he makes his way up, fingers spreading warm and wide over pale skin, and by the time his lips brush the edge of the lacy fabric, Jean’s precome is soaking through the sheer red and he’s wiggling eagerly.

“M-Marco, fuck,” Jean whimpers, relaxing and letting Marco do whatever he wants, move him however he wants. He arches his back with a whine when Marco nuzzles his cock through his underwear, his thighs looped over his boyfriend’s strong shoulders and held securely by still-shaking hands.

“D’you know how good you look, Jean?” Oh, no. Marco’s found his words again. He looks up at his squirming boyfriend as he presses his lips against him, then again, trailing slow, teasing kisses up to the aching head of Jean’s cock. “So much better than I ever imagined, you know that? So p-pretty, fuck…” Marco’s eyes slide shut for a moment, rubbing his cheek against Jean with a shiver. “’M the luckiest man alive.”

Jean wiggles under his boyfriend, biting his flushed lips, and swallows at the way Marco feels through the lace. He has to bite at his hand, though, when Marco turns and fucking drags his tongue up the aching length of Jean’s cock, apparently done with words for now. Jean arches and gasps and shakes as Marco mouths back down, hot and wet as he fucking soaks the fabric with his saliva, uncaring for the mess they’re both making. In fact, the sloppy wetness of the delicate fabric just makes things hotter, every shift and movement and kiss and moan sliding the lace against Jean’s sensitive cock, and he’s already as brainless as Marco.

Gripping a pillow with one hand and biting at the knuckles of the other, Jean spreads his thighs and arches toward his boyfriend, his breath panting out muffled and hot. Marco leans up and kisses, bites down the light trail of hair leading back down into his slick panties, shifting to press his fucking hot mouth against the soaked head of Jean’s cock with a low, rumbling moan. He runs his tongue along the slit, groaning at the taste of Jean’s precome through the lace, before he sucks wetly down the length of his boyfriend’s twitching arousal.

“M-Marco,” Jean manages, half-muffled by his hand, his hips bucking up helplessly into the attention. Every move Marco makes drags the fabric against him and sets him on edge, still kind of blown away by how fucking good the thong feels clinging tight to his cock, separating him from Marco’s incredible tongue by a barely-noticeable degree. It holds the fucking heat of Marco’s panting breaths, so warm against his already burning skin, and the constant attention of his boyfriend’s mouth is enough to render him shaky and needy. His precome’s fucking everywhere, pooling slick and messy on his skin and Marco’s lips and the damn thong.

When Marco drags his tongue up his length again, breathing a heady moan against him, Jean stifles a whimpering cry in his palm and squeezes his eyes shut. He arches off the bed when Marco sucks noisily, sloppily at the head again, his fingers holding Jean’s thighs spread, but then he takes his perfect mouth and his firm hands away and leaves Jean whining.

“B-babe,” Marco moans, sliding up Jean’s body and kissing him desperately, his hands sliding reverently up Jean’s sides, over his ribs. “Jean, baby, y-you remember the basement show?”

“Nngh,” is about as intelligent a response as Jean can muster. He does, though.

Marco dips and sucks at Jean’s throat, licking over to his pale shoulder to suck a small, red mark into flushed skin before he bites up to his ear and whispers, “Jean, can I f-finger you?”

This time, Jean’s the one who needs a fucking minute.

His breath catches in his chest and his eyes roll shut, his hands coming to grip Marco’s shoulders tightly as he arches up against him. Marco gives him a break, stilling his exploring fingers and his biting kisses, just taking a moment to let Jean fucking breathe, which is much appreciated. He kisses his flushed cheek warmly, breathing soft moans at the way Jean fucking spasms whenever he thinks about it.

“D-did you hear anyone c-come home?”

Marco shakes his head, nuzzling him. “Why?”

Jean swallows and gasps before he responds, curling one hand around the back of Marco’s neck. “C-can’t keep it down, g-gonna be s-screamin’ for you…”

Groaning breathlessly, Marco wraps his arms around Jean’s thin waist, hugging him close and muttering brainless, sweet nothings against him. He reaches over to the nightstand, turning up the music as a precaution, before Jean wriggles away from him slightly and leans over to dig under the edge of his mattress.

He comes back with a small, half-empty bottle of lube, pushing it at Marco and flopping onto his back again. Marco grins, straddling one of Jean’s spread thighs as he pops the cap open and murmurs, “When’d you get this?”

“D-day after,” Jean grumbles, reaching up to grab at the pillow under his head to ground himself. “Got me t-too damn interested.”

Marco pauses his teasing to spread some of the slick liquid over two of his fingers, squinting at it as he rubs his fingers together before squirting another good dollop onto the tips just to be on the safe side. He closes the bottle and sets it somewhat precariously on the headboard, then forgets all about it. “S-so you tried it?” Jean flushes, nodding and spreading his thighs further. Marco runs his dry fingers down the soaked mess of lace stretched tight over Jean’s cock, before trailing further down to gently pull the fabric out of his way.

The lube’s still cooler than Jean had expected, so he arches and shivers when Marco’s fingers slide over his entrance. He gets used to it quickly, though, and shivers again for entirely different reasons. Marco rubs him slowly, still holding the thong out of his way, his own soaked, clothed cock resting heavily on Jean’s thigh. When Marco leans down and kisses him softly, watching his face to make sure Jean’s okay, the blonde whimpers and wiggles against him.

“D-did you like it, Jean? When you tried it?” Jean nods, biting his lip harshly. “How many fingers did you use?”

“J-just one, c’mon, babe—”

Marco grins, licking up Jean’s ear and rubbing his fingers more firmly against him. “Did you think of me?”

Jean whimpers, his thighs tensing and shaking, before he nods again, the movement smaller this time. Marco rewards him by easing the tip of his middle finger into Jean, giving a stuttering gasp at the fucking tight, hot feeling inside of him. He kisses Jean’s cheek shakily, nuzzling against him again, before his boyfriend's insistent wiggling urges him deeper. Marco slides his finger into Jean slowly, biting his lip and watching intently, and the way Jean’s mouth falls open on a gasping whine has Marco thrusting against his thigh with a low groan.

“’S so t-tight, Jean…” Jean shivers again, rocking his hips wantonly, then leans into Marco and gasps his name so sweetly it makes Marco fucking dizzy. He catches his boyfriend’s lips and kisses him senseless, adjusting himself so he’s plastered against Jean’s side, legs wrapped around his thigh so he can grind against him slowly. “D-does it feel good, baby?”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Jean whimpers, arching his back. Taking advantage of the brief gap between Jean and the sheets, Marco slides his free arm under his boyfriend and holds him close, trailing his fingers up to rub and pinch gently at Jean’s hard nipple. He rests his forehead against Jean’s cheek so he can stare down his incredible, writhing body at his soaked panties, his twitching cock, the way his hand looks deep between Jean's beautiful thighs… Marco sighs shakily, then gives a small, tentative thrust of his finger, looking back up at Jean’s face as he does.

Jean’s eyes squeeze shut, his lips parted on breathy whimpers, and the face he’s making leaves Marco speechless again. He starts thrusting easily, slowly, his finger sliding so perfectly inside of Jean that it has him panting. Jean’s wiggling for it, gasping, his face an expression of absolute fucking need, so Marco obliges him and thrusts a little deeper, a little faster, his strong wrist working smoothly until Jean’s a whimpering, arching mess against him. Marco takes the liberty of grinding his cock against Jean’s hip to the rhythm of his finger, shamelessly putting two and two together with a groan. Jean would feel a-fucking-mazing around his cock, this tight and shaky, rocking against him, and Marco can’t help but moan into his ear.

“F-fuck, babe, you’re p-perfect, Jean,” Marco mumbles brainlessly, speeding his rhythm just for a moment before he slows down to slide a second finger against him. He rubs tentatively, for a moment convinced that Jean’s still too tight around him for two fingers, until Jean’s whining his name and spreading his thighs and wrapping his weak arms around Marco’s shoulders.

“P-please, please,” he breathes, his nuzzles desperate now as he clings to his boyfriend. “Please, b-baby…”

Moaning softly, Marco presses a warm kiss to Jean’s cheek, letting the blonde rub against him, then slowly, gently works a second finger into his tight, incredible heat. “Fuck, Jean,” he gasps, slipping his fingers deep and grinding them into him slightly, just to let him adjust. Jean’s already moaning, though, shaking arms holding Marco tighter, so Marco kisses him and starts thrusting his fingers again.

Two fingers, it seems, is just thick enough to have Jean keening, rocking back onto his fingers with increasingly noisy moans, his precome soaking through his panties in thick spurts again as he clings and whimpers and pants against Marco.

He’s so tight, but so damn giving under Marco’s touch, the brunette can’t help but nudge him so he can bite at his ear again, the barest of warnings before he speeds his thrusts, works his wrist harder, and when Jean doesn’t seem to object in the least, Marco groans and fucks him on his fingers and ruts against his hip. Jean’s breath catches, stutters, his back arching, and he’s panting shallowly and digging his nails into Marco’s shoulders, and when Marco adjusts his wrist just slightly so he doesn’t get sore and thrusts harder, he’s apparently doing something very right.

Jean twitches again, his hips arching and his thighs spreading and his precome starting to drip down over his side, and then he’s sobbing Marco’s name, bucking into his incredible thrusts with loud, needy moans, his head thrown back into his pillows and his body wrecked from Marco’s fingers. He’s quaking and gasping and crying out for it, for the way Marco’s slamming his fingers deep into him now, and the sounds only grow louder when Marco growls and leans down and bites at his neck, his throat, his collarbone, his wrist flicking so fast Jean can’t even keep up anymore. All he can do is arch up and spread himself open and take it.

He’s fucking close, though. Marco can tell by the insistence of Jean’s hands and the high, breathy cries he’s not bothering to muffle and the way his body’s searching for him, tightening around him and tensing under him and trembling against him, and he gives a slight curl to his fingers as he fucks them into Jean, and his boyfriend’s about gone.

Words are beyond Jean at this point. He’s just a shaky, sloppy, needy mess in Marco’s arms, his fingers driving him higher and about making him cry, so when Marco leans into his ear and whispers for him to come for me, baby, come, lemme hear you, Jean’s fucking eager to obey him.

When he comes, he calls Marco’s name in a broken, whimpering cry, tightening impossibly around his fingers and trying to hold him deep, but Marco’s still fucking him open, thrusting his fingers harder and rubbing inside of him and moaning into his ear at the feeling as he ruts his cock against him. Jean comes hard and messy inside his panties, soaking the lace and dripping come everywhere and gasping, moaning, crying out, until his body collapses back into the sheets and shakes.

Marco has mercy on him and slows his fingers down gradually, working Jean through his orgasm until he’s twitching and whining. He pulls his fingers out slowly, being gentle with his fucked-out boyfriend, until he moves over him and rips his soaked boxers down and wraps his slick hand around his aching cock, and it only takes a few hard, quick pulls and a few gasped moans before Marco’s crying out against Jean’s shoulder and fucking his hand and coming all over his wrecked panties.

It takes a while before either of them are anything approaching functional. Marco mouths brainlessly at Jean’s collarbone, still kneeling over him, and Jean’s still giving spent little whimpers and clinging loosely to Marco.

The sound of a door slamming downstairs instantly revives them both. Jean curses, flails, and falls out of bed, at least managing to not spread his mess onto his carpet, and Marco’s reaching for the tissues and quickly cleaning himself off before tucking himself away and moving to help his significantly messier boyfriend, who’s already starting to laugh.

Once they’ve sufficiently hidden the evidence, Marco borrows a pair of Jean’s sweatpants, and they curl up under Jean’s blanket and make out and flirt grossly in their post-coital bliss.

--

Jean: babe i need help hiding a body

Marco: ?????

Jean: bitch found them

Marco: …… ////// oh my god

Jean: i’m moving in with u okay

Marco: I don’t think you’d have much more luck here love

Marco: I can’t even jerk off without incinerating the evidence

Jean: incinerate my piece of shit sister too

Marco: sorry, baby.

Marco: I love you <3

Jean: … love you too nerd <3

Jean: but she is ‘bitch’ for the next month because she fucking told her shitty friends

Marco: ////////////// frick

Chapter Text

The night Marco fell in love with him, Jean was fifteen, incredibly stoned, and far too fucking involved with Snapchat.

Jean had been in a phenomenal mood, and the pot had hit him just right and in just the right amount. When Marco’s phone blew up with bright yellow notifications, he followed Jean through the city on his tiny little screen while the weedy blonde laughed and jumped over fences and sprinted down by the river, his laughter echoed off-screen by Eren’s bad puns and raucous cackles. Marco balanced precariously with Jean on concrete dividers and followed Jean’s pointing to something on the freeway overpass, and every time Jean turned and grinned up at the camera like the damn sun, Marco had felt like he was right there.

He’d stared down at his phone, wishing he could save these videos forever and genuinely cursing whoever decided it was a good idea to create single-serving social media. Marco wanted to relive these moments every night for the rest of his life.

The night Jean fell in love with him, Marco was sixteen, had finally gotten a reasonable phone, and had celebrated by repaying the Snapchat adventure in kind.

He’d excitedly shown off the quality of his phone’s camera as he bounced through his house, dodging piles of identical baby siblings, and when he finally made it to the moonlit, cobwebbed attic and recorded his own flushed cheeks, his own shining grin lit bright and blue in the quiet, stale air, Jean had felt himself falling far and fucking fast.

Jean has never been one of those lying types, nor the type to keep secrets from anyone but himself.

Marco figured it out first, Jean figured it out second, and by the time the thick air fell to comfortable pieces between them, they had both more than accepted it.

Now, they’ve been dating for two years and some pile of change, and Marco’s still getting those bright yellow notifications from his boyfriend at all hours of the day and night.

‘Booooored,’ one picture says, Jean hanging back off the edge of his bed and poking his lower lip out.

Maybe because it’s three am on a hot, humid August night, or maybe because Marco’s been on fucking edge lately, he finds himself focusing a little too hard on the flat of his boyfriend’s stomach and the bulge of his cock in his pants. Definitely too hard, he realizes with a whimper when the picture flashes away before Marco has a chance to screenshot it.

‘Sorry, baby,’ Marco replies, sticking his own lip out in return. If he shifts so that his loose shirt shows off more than a little of his collarbones, no one has to know but him and Jean.

The next snap is of Jean kicking his feet in the air with loud grumbles, and the next one is immediately after he’d rolled onto his stomach, throwing a disheveled, grumpy look at the camera.

Marco tries really hard not to think about how fucking hot his boyfriend is at all times. Nor about how lucky he is that Jean willingly wraps his lips around Marco’s cock… nor about how he eagerly takes him deep inside—

Damn.

Running a hand down his face, Marco sends a reply snap of a noncommittal shrug, trying to will away his raging boner as he does.

Marco throws his phone onto the bed beside him and runs both his hands down his face this time, a groan escaping around his fingers. He thinks firmly about schoolwork, about college coming up, about moving away from his family and into a dorm with Jean, where they’d be alone for most of the night—

Dammit.

His phone’s lit up with a pile of snaps, so Marco rolls onto his stomach with a grimace and pulls up the app to view the bajillion selfies Jean had sent, all of them at least some degree of hot. That could just be the way Marco’s grinding his cock against the bed, though.

‘y did ppl used to think moon was cheese?’

With a soft laugh, Marco raises his eyebrow at his camera and gives Jean a bemused smile, not bothering to fix his cowlicks.

‘Marco you’re hot’

Okay then. Marco flushes bright red and send Jean a picture of his face buried in his pillow, hiding his obvious blush.

Jean’s not letting him off so easy, though. He sends Marco a picture of himself on his back again, licking his teeth suggestively as he palms his cock in the background, a minxy little grin curving his lips.

‘/////’

Marco’s not exactly eloquent against his hot-ass boyfriend sometimes.

‘Been thinkin’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘and possibly watching porn’

Flopping onto his back in the pillows, Marco quirks an eyebrow at his camera, long since over the embarrassment of making faces at himself.

The next picture, Jean’s face half-buried in his forearm as he arches his sweet ass off the bed with a little smile, is almost enough to distract Marco from the caption.

‘kinda want you to eat me out’

It takes a good, long minute for Marco to recuperate from that. He refuses to let Jean make him come in his pants over Snapchat. That’s fucking ridiculous. He sends Jean a picture of his shifty-eyed ‘I’m sort of lying about having a boner’ face, then a quick snap of the way his cock’s tenting his boxers.

‘ohoho’

‘//////////’

‘hold on gonna kill this boner—’ Marco’s about to whine his protest when another snap comes in, this one a blatant ass shot. ‘then I’m gonna drive over’

‘it’s three am dude’

Jean’s raised eyebrow needs no caption, and Marco’s self-control wilts almost instantly.

True to his word, Jean’s climbing the tree outside of Marco’s window like a fucking 80s romance flick ten minutes later, knocking on the glass with a lecherous grin.

“Hi,” Jean says, tumbling through the window and not sparing Marco his weight as he flop-tackles him onto the bed.

“Oof. Hi.”

They kiss easily, already moving to press together comfortably, Jean shifting to spread his lanky thighs over Marco’s lap and grinding shamelessly against him. He chuckles at the way Marco gasps and arches against him, his hands coming to grip Jean’s ass. Marco pulls them together more firmly, his breath rumbling out in a low groan as he does.

“You a little pent up, babe?” Jean grins as he asks, running his fingers through Marco’s already-messy hair. He lets Marco move them together, his own half-hard cock nestled in the warm hollow of his hip, before he nudges the brunette’s chin aside and bites playfully up his ear. “So excited to see me.”

Marco whines softly, slipping one hand up the back of Jean’s loose shirt. “Haven’t seen you for a few days.”

“Mm, not since trouble-cubed came back from camp.” Jean sits up, straddling Marco with his thighs spread impressively, teasingly wide, before he pulls his shirt off with a low hum and tosses it somewhere off the bed.

Keeping his thoughts together is a struggle, but Marco sighs and runs his hands up Jean’s pale stomach, up his chest, until his fingers are laced around the back of Jean’s neck and he’s pulling him down for more kisses. “Speaking of,” he says between the bare parting of their lips, “Gotta keep it down… everyone’s home now, ‘s late.”

“Gotcha,” Jean murmurs, slowly rocking their half-hard cocks together again with a quiet hum. “’S it weird that I missed you?”

Marco laughs, shifting to hold Jean’s face in his hands and running his thumbs along the blonde’s flushed cheeks. “Why’s that weird?” Jean just huffs and shrugs, flicking his gaze aside. Marco nuzzles their noses together and smiles, moving one hand down Jean’s bare back gently. “I think it’s nice. Young and madly in love, or however you like it.” Jean blushes dark, burying his face in Marco’s neck with a groan.

Running his hands down to Jean’s sides, Marco turns his head and kisses Jean’s ear. He wraps his arms around his thin waist and squeezes him tightly when Jean stays hidden for a while, wringing a slight wheeze out of his boyfriend.

“You disagree?”

“Fuckin’,” Jean grumbles, reaching behind him to grab at one of Marco’s fingers. Marco obliges him, unwinding one strong arm to thread his fingers between Jean’s and letting their hands fall to the side. “’Course not. You know I love your ass.”

“Oh, grand,” Marco laughs, ribbing Jean just to make him squirm. He knows what his boyfriend means. Jean’s just occasionally stubborn about schmoopy lovey shit, so of course Marco (who is more than liberal with his affection) gives him shit for it.

Jean nuzzles further into Marco, squeezing their twined hands before he moves up and kisses him again, slow and deep and more than sufficient in its expression of Jean’s feelings for his boyfriend. Marco hums against his lips, flicking his tongue against him gently even as he hugs him tighter, and Jean leans into him with a warm sigh and deepens the kiss.

They lose track of time lying together and kissing, content to focus entirely on each other, drawing out their affection lazily even as the balmy night air begins to fill with the sounds of birds outside Marco’s open window. The two months that the nine-year-old triplets had been away at camp had spoiled Jean and Marco with their time together. With just the two younger boys bouncing around, Marco’s mom hadn’t needed him at home nearly as much, so they’d gotten used to just relaxing and talking idly and making out as the summer grew hotter and brighter. Now that the middle midgets are back, though, Marco has once again become big brother babysitter, and their house has once again become a volcano of activity.

Marco doesn’t mind playing with his siblings, not by any means. His baby twin brothers are stupidly adorable, and the triplets are an interesting amalgamation of nonbinary chaos. (They’d all decided at once that they didn’t like being boys or girls, and after having Marco talk them through the concept, their parents were excited to embrace them.)

No, it’s more that Marco’s fucking head over heels, as he has been for a few years, and after two months of carefree quality snuggling time, adjusting again to the role of Backup Adult has been somewhat jarring. Still, at least they have moments like this, where they can touch and kiss quietly and just enjoy the warmth of each other’s breath and the steady cadence of their mirrored heartbeats.

Somehow, lost in his love-struck contentment, Marco had forgotten entirely why Jean had crawled through his window at three in the damn morning, why he’s currently shirtless and sprawled across him. He remembers before Jean does, though, based on the still-slow movements of his boyfriend’s tongue along his and the loose thread of normally-twitchy musician’s fingers between his. Marco hums against Jean and sucks on his lower lip, nibbling gently, his free hand sneaking around to grab Jean’s ass again as he does. The blonde lets out a surprised little wheeze, apparently coming back to reality with the way Marco’s fingers slide suggestively along his ass, dipping between his thighs easily.

“Hi there,” Jean breathes, kissing Marco again, then a few more times, until the heat is rolling between them again in warm waves and Jean’s hips are moving just enough to send sparks through them both.

“Hey.” Marco grins, squeezing Jean’s fingers before slipping away to grope his boyfriend’s tight ass with both hands. “What’s up?”

Jean hums quietly in response, a dirty grin sneaking over his face. He cards his fingers through dark hair and dips to drop bitey little kisses along Marco’s strong jaw before he continues. “Hangin’ out. I think this conjugal visit kinda went off the rails a bit.”

“’S okay,” Marco replies. “Missed just laying around and kissing, honestly.” He smiles and runs his hands over Jean’s ass again, clever fingers pinching and squeezing, before he slides warm palms up the blonde’s bare back and over his sensitive sides. “But, since you mention it, maybe fooling around wouldn’t be so terrible.”

“Don’t force yourself,” Jean deadpans, leaning up on his elbows to quirk an eyebrow at Marco. “Although, you are an old man, and it’s pretty far past your bedtime…"

Marco grumbles and, wrapping his arms around Jean tightly, flips them over with a quick buck of his hips. He pauses and hauls his shirt off before he ducks into Jean’s neck to kiss along sensitive skin, any marks he’d left last time sadly faded almost out of sight. With a low hum, Marco rests comfortably over Jean and sets to darkening one again, biting gently at the light bruise and sucking until it’s flushed dark once more in a stark contrast to his skin. Jean gives a shivering little sigh and hooks his knees around Marco’s hips, his hands running up his boyfriend’s strong arms and over his shoulders.

“So, if I remember right,” Marco murmurs into Jean’s ear, smiling at the slight tremor that runs through him with the way he’s pitching his voice low, “You were sayin’ something about… what was it…”

Jean whines, scratching his short nails through Marco’s hair. He tilts his head back for the brunette’s mouth, though, letting out a soft moan at the way Marco mouths along his throat and against his pulse before he sets in on another faded mark. “M-Marco, damn tease…”

“Have pity,” Marco laughs, nipping at the lightly-flushed hickey before he soothes it with his tongue and grinds his hips into Jean’s slowly, firmly. “I’m an old man, remember?”

Jean snorts, moving the back of one hand to his lips to soften his own laughter. Marco grins down at him, unabashedly memorizing that face, then nudges Jean’s hand away so he can kiss him again. He starts up an easy grind with their hips, though, sighing hot into their kiss. Jean wraps his arms around Marco’s neck and moves with him, catching his rhythm perfectly, until Marco starts moving more insistently, trying to get Jean to tell him what he needs.

“Mmh, dammit,” Jean sighs, biting and sucking at Marco’s lips, wriggling to grind his cock impatiently against his boyfriend’s with a low moan. “You gonna make me s-say it?”

“Where’d all that bravery go?” Marco chuckles as he asks, shifting down onto his elbows so he can feel Jean against him more, their lips and their chests and their stomachs pressing warm together as he gives promising rolls of his hips. “You seemed so confident.”

“’S easy over fuckin’—ah—Snapchat,” Jean grouses, spreading his thighs wider for Marco. He huffs for a moment, then fists one hand in Marco’s hair and pulls him down so he can slide his tongue up his ear slowly. Marco shivers, his hips jerking, before Jean rasps, “I want you to eat me out.”

Marco moans softly and ruts his cock against Jean's, his lips seeking the blonde’s pale shoulder and sucking a new mark into sweat-slick flesh with another muffled sound. He’s about to acquiesce, to lean up and pull at Jean's clothes and give him what he wants, but then Jean’s moaning shakily against his ear and speaking again.

“R-remember, you said you’d let me feel your mouth on me? Want that, ah…” Jean drags his nails down Marco’s back achingly slow, tightening his legs around his boyfriend and holding him close while Jean exacts his teasing revenge. “Wanna feel your tongue inside me, feel your lips on me… want you to have me bitin’ your pillow and moaning for you.”

“Fuck, Jean,” Marco murmurs, wrapping his arms around Jean’s waist and holding him tight to his chest as he fucks their hard, clothed dicks against each other with a low groan. Jean lets him, mostly because Marco feels amazing when he’s moving this way. With as flustered and dominant as Marco gets when he’s losing control, Jean can’t help but encourage him, especially when he knows exactly how those rough thrusts feel when Marco’s gasping and pounding his cock into Jean.

Shivering at the thought, Jean writhes into Marco’s hips as long as he can, before Marco’s pushing him back into the sheets and mouthing quick and messy down his chest. Shaky hands come to fumble at the catch of Jean’s pants, pausing his sloppy kisses to suck another hickey into the flat, unmarked skin right beside the blonde’s well-kept happy trail. Jean arches up with a barely-contained whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the feeling, and his hips buck when Marco drags his teeth lightly over the bruise.

When he finally gets Jean’s pants open and finds out he’d forgone boxers, Marco pulls off the hickey with a heavy sigh and watches eagerly as Jean’s cock bounces out of his pants, already slick with precome.

Jean wiggles out of his pants as Marco yanks them off, licking his lips, and he lets Marco lean down and drag the flat of his tongue up Jean’s hard dick with a low moan. Sliding his fingers back into Marco’s hair, Jean spreads his thighs and squirms toward his boyfriend, his teeth savaging his lip and his face flushed dark under Marco’s eager attention. His head falls back into the pillows with a breathy whimper as Marco strokes him firmly, flicking the wicked tip of his tongue through Jean’s slit before he wraps his lips around the head and sucks perfectly, fuck. Jean grips Marco’s pillow with his free hand, the other still fisted in dark strands, and the way Marco bobs his head and works his tongue nearly makes Jean forget again what he’d asked for so nicely.

Marco hasn’t forgotten, though. He scoots down the bed, sparing one hand to pull his cock out of his boxers and tugging briefly with a low moan around his mouthful, before his hands slide up the backs of Jean’s thighs and coax him into bending back, spreading wider.

“A-ah, Marco, f-fuck,” Jean whimpers, twitching up into Marco’s mouth before he tugs at his boyfriend’s hair gently. “Y-you want—uh.”

Blinking the haze from his eyes, Marco hollows his cheeks and pulls slowly off of Jean’s cock, teasing him further with his tongue before he lets him go. “Mm?”

“L-like this?” Jean flushes darker, if at all possible, and sucks on his lips. He wriggles to indicate that he means the position. Marco sits up and runs his warm hands slowly up and down the backs of Jean’s thighs, soothing him into relaxing even though he’s bent near in half.

“You wanted it differently?”

Jean pulls another pillow under his head, mostly to waffle as he fights his embarrassment, his thighs coming together in some vague modesty. Marco lets him, though, smiling softly and running his hands over everything he can reach. “I-I dunno,” Jean mumbles finally, gripping the pillow and fidgeting. “Thought, uh. L-like when you fucked me.”

Marco raises his eyebrows, considering it. “You mean on your knees?” Jean nods. Humming, Marco gently eases Jean’s thighs apart so he can rest between them again, kissing away the tightness stretching his boyfriend’s lips thin. “We can, ‘f you want. I wouldn’t mind seeing your face, though.”

Choking slightly, Jean squints at Marco, who just smiles warmly and runs his knuckles across the blonde’s cheek tenderly. Jean mulls it over for another long moment, wrapping his legs idly around his boyfriend, before he finally looks Marco in the eye again and gives a tiny nod. Marco kisses him again, though, so damn sweetly it makes him melt, and murmurs, “Only if you want to.”

“’S fine,” Jean mumbles against him, freeing his hands to rest on Marco’s as they run soothingly over him. With another soft hum, Marco laces their fingers, brushing his lips against Jean’s again. “J-just… uh. Saw more of it from behind, ‘s all.”

“Oh yeah?” Marco nuzzles his nose against his boyfriend’s, successfully getting a cute noise out of him. “Guess we watch different porn then, huh.”

“You holdin’ out on me, Bodt?” Jean grins as he asks, spreading his thighs around Marco’s waist and biting his lip. “What do you jack off to, then?”

Marco licks his lips and kisses Jean again, slipping him his tongue quickly before he pulls away just to have the blonde chasing him. “Not much porn anymore, to be honest.”

“What, then?”

“You.”

The candor of Marco’s simple admission has Jean choking again, his fingers twitching between Marco’s. He stares up at his boyfriend, obviously flustered, and flounders as he tries to find an appropriate response. When Jean’s this easy to break down, it’s a strange mix of hilarious, adorable, and fucking hot. Marco nods, affirming his statement, before he leans down again to kiss Jean’s cheek softly.

“I just think about how you say my name,” he whispers against Jean, nuzzling into his jaw with a soft hum. “Or how loud you were with my dick in you, moanin’ and screamin’ for me.” Marco nudges Jean’s head back, groaning at the ease with which Jean offers himself to him, and drags his lips down his boyfriend’s neck again. “Sometimes I think about you fuckin’ me, too.”

“W-wait—” Jean squirms under Marco, catching his attention. “Waitwait—”

“J-Jean?”

Jean sits up, taking Marco with him and crawling into his lap as he leans forward to bite gently at his boyfriend’s lips. “Y-you think about me fuckin’ you?”

“U-uh. Yeah.” Marco rests his hands on Jean’s hips, peering nervously at him. “W-why?”

Squinting at Marco, Jean contemplates him for just long enough to have the brunette fidgeting under him, unable to keep that intense gaze for long before he has to at least blink.

“You don’t have any condoms?”

Marco stares, then shakes his head, freeing one hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Thought we were keeping them at yours. More privacy there.”

Jean groans, leaning his face down into Marco’s neck and clinging tighter. “Didn’t even think to bring any.” He sucks slowly up Marco’s throat, his hands moving over him again and leaving little shivers in their wake from the heat and the lazy intensity behind his touch, already soothing Marco out of his nervousness from Jean’s sudden shift. “You’d let me fuck you?”

“Sure,” Marco hums, wrapping his arms around Jean’s waist to tug him further into his lap. “Sounds like fun, right?”

“Fuck yeah,” Jean murmurs, sliding his tongue over Marco’s pulse before he kisses back up to his lips and lingers there for a long while, his kisses easy and somehow promising. “D’you have lube?”

Marco nods, his hands trailing up Jean’s spine idly. “’S in the drawer.”

“How ‘bout this,” Jean whispers, leaning his forehead against Marco’s as he strokes his thumbs along the brunette’s jaw. “You eat me out, and I’ll finger you? Can’t fuck you, but I’ll show you how good I can make you feel.” Jean grins when Marco shivers and breathes a soft sigh against his lips, his eyelids fluttering closed. “Call it a preview.”

“D-deal,” Marco manages, catching Jean’s lips again and kissing him almost desperately, the heat of Jean’s promise fueling him and leaving him hard and wanting again already. He runs his hands up Jean’s sides, over his shoulders, dragging his nails across pale skin and leaning in eagerly when the blonde leans his head back with a low moan. His lips find another faded mark under the hollow of his boyfriend’s throat, so Marco sucks and bites gently at it as he tilts them back into the sheets again and grinds his cock against Jean.

Jean rocks up against him, shivering and gripping Marco’s shoulders with a quiet whine, and when Marco kisses up to his ear and murmurs, “You first,” Jean can’t really find a good reason to argue.

He blearily watches Marco bend him back again, significantly more pliant than before, and he lets his boyfriend spread him open with warm hands and soft moans pressed against his skin as he kisses his way back down. Marco’s palms run slowly along Jean’s hips as he drags his tongue down past his cock, slipping along the (apparently ticklish) join of his thigh, until he’s watching Jean and pressing his lips cautiously further. Jean just wiggles, half an attempt to be helpful and half because the light brush of Marco’s lips and tongue is tickling him something fierce.

Biting his lip, Jean reaches up to grab the pillow for support again, and the first tentative brush of Marco’s tongue against his entrance makes him jump slightly.

“S-sorry,” he mumbles, swallowing nervously before he’s soothed by the gentle path of Marco’s hands across his stomach, his hips, along his slightly-trembling thighs. Marco hums before he tries again, running his tongue over Jean in a slow, steady stripe. Jean’s lips part on a soft moan, his body relaxing into Marco’s easy attention as his eyelids flutter for a moment. Encouraged, Marco repeats the swipe more confidently, taking the blonde’s hitched breath as a good sign. He leans closer and circles the tip of his tongue around Jean’s entrance, pausing to flatten his tongue against him again occasionally, until Jean’s stopped tensing and Marco feels him give under the gentle pressing of his tongue.

He laves his tongue over Jean once more, peering up to watch the way Jean’s eyes slide closed again, the way he licks his lips, the way his breath picks up and his fingers tense in the pillow, before he leans in and slips the tip of his tongue against Jean’s entrance with a warm sigh.

Jean jumps again, biting his lip around a cracked moan, before he relaxes again and looks down at Marco with dark, hazy eyes. “F-feels good, kinda,” he mumbles, licking his lips slowly.

“Only kinda?” Marco replies, the low rumble of his voice right against Jean making him arch and gasp. Hoping to see that face again, Marco hums against his boyfriend, pressing his lips firmly against him, and it pays off in the way Jean’s mouth falls open on a little whine. He’s still trying to keep it down, at least.

“It’s—ah—‘s different,” Jean sighs as he opens one eye to watch Marco. Hard to see from this angle, but the view is still nice. Marco hums again, his fingers twitching at the way Jean whimpers, before he flicks his tongue out against Jean in a quick, teasing motion. The blonde moans, his thighs starting to shake, and when Marco finally gets it together and stiffens his tongue against his entrance insistently, Jean’s breath hitches and his eyes squeeze shut tighter.

Marco works Jean open slowly, gently, waiting for him to relax and for his little noises to start sounding needy before he gives him more, and by the time he’s thrusting his tongue into him, Jean’s panting and giving more of those intoxicating moans, his thighs and his hands twitching for it. Marco presses against his boyfriend and thrusts his tongue evenly, as deeply as he can manage, before he hums against him again. The way Jean shivers, letting out a broken whimper of his name, has Marco moving his tongue faster, moaning into him, pressing harder and deeper, and when he gives Jean a quick little flicker of his curling tongue and digs his nails into Jean’s spread thighs, Jean arches, then drags the pillow up over his face so he can muffle the noisy moan the movement elicits.

One of Jean’s hands comes down to stroke his dripping, achingly hard cock quickly, adjusting the pillow so he can still bite into it as he watches Marco, his body starting to shake harder from the feeling. Marco flicks his tongue faster into Jean, trying to hit him deeper, and Jean’s desperately-rocking rhythm definitely helps. He adjusts his pace to Jean’s hips as they twitch back for more, the muffled sounds Jean’s breathing constantly into the pillow serving to encourage Marco further.

Jean’s eyes slide shut again, his hand squeezing tighter and moving harder, stopping whenever Marco switches to firm, even thrusts of his tongue to slide his thumb through his dripping slit, and the quick pants and shaky moans Jean muffles start coming faster, more erratic, his body tensing and twitching under Marco, because of Marco.

Just as Marco’s jaw starts hurting, right when he considers switching to his fingers, Jean pulls the pillow away from his flushed lips to whine, “C-close, Marco—g-gonna come—”

Pressing more firmly against Jean, fucking his tongue harder into him and moaning again, Marco grips Jean’s thighs and holds him still as he works him higher, higher, until Jean’s gasping and arching and barely managing to muffle his moans as he throws his head back and comes. His hand moves hard and eases him through his orgasm just as much as the way Marco’s working him through it, humming and curling his tongue and thrusting quickly. He follows Jean down as he shakes and starts coming off of it, his tense body relaxing in small twitches and heavy breaths, and when Jean’s boneless and covered in his own come, Marco slips his tongue slowly out of him and runs his hands soothingly over Jean’s trembling thighs.

Marco whispers soft praises against the inside of Jean’s thigh, watching the blonde drop the pillow he’d muffled his voice with to the side as he uncurls his come-slick fingers from his cock and just kind of… deflates. Smiling up at his boyfriend, Marco sits up, wiping saliva off his chin as he watches Jean become a thinking thing again.

With his clean hand, Jean gestures him closer, wrapping around him with a cracked whimper when Marco collapses next to him. He burrows into his boyfriend’s shoulder, slowly recovering, and Marco’s more than happy to let him, even as he strokes his still-hard cock idly just to ease the ache.

“Th-that was awesome,” Jean manages finally, leaning up to kiss Marco’s cheek.

“I’m glad,” Marco hums, wiggling his free arm under Jean to wrap snugly around his shoulders. He smiles at Jean, who squints at him blearily before leaning up and gently kissing the corner of his lips.

Jean stops giving a fuck after about three cautious kisses, turning Marco’s face toward him and pressing their lips together warmly, humming encouragingly. Marco gives up and rolls to face him with a quiet laugh, deepening the kiss, and they happily fall into it, winding around each other and breathing easily.

Marco’s still hard, though, and he’s finding it difficult to keep from palming at his dick with the way his naked, fucked-out boyfriend is wiggling against him, but Jean hasn’t forgotten his promise. He nips at Marco’s lips before rolling to root around in the end table, and when he finally digs out the well-hidden lube, he rolls back over and crawls between Marco’s legs with a wide, sated smile. After making short work of Marco’s boxers, Jean adjusts him gently, crossing his legs before pulling Marco’s ass into his lap and spreading his thighs open for him. Marco flushes slightly, his slick cock bobbing against his stomach and begging for attention, but he just grabs a pillow and slides it under his head, completely trusting Jean to get him there.

Licking his lips, Jean guides Marco’s knees toward his chest, the tilt of his hips making the position about effortless. He pops the lube and slicks two of his fingers, warming it and spreading it over his knuckles, and as he does so he takes the time to look Marco over so warmly it has him blushing darker.

“Let me know what feels good, okay?” Jean asks quietly, resting his free hand on Marco’s hip gently. Marco nods, biting his lip, and as Jean rubs his fingers against him, he finds himself relaxing with a soft moan.

Jean watches Marco as he presses the tip of one finger more firmly against him, searching for any signs of discomfort, and when Marco lets out a slow sigh and closes his eyes, he rocks his hips up against Jean’s finger, twitching when the tip slides in. Jean runs with that motion, slowly sliding his finger in to the knuckle, and he can’t help but bite his lip at how tight Marco is. He figures Marco must have had the same revelation when he first fingered Jean, based on the way his boyfriend had moaned for him, but damn.

He knows Marco must be desperate to get off, having been neglected for so long, so Jean decides to have mercy on him this time. Marco’d been so intent on Jean’s pleasure, so focused and so damn good, that he definitely deserves the good treatment.

“You’re fucking amazing with your mouth, you know that, Marco?” Jean licks his lips and thrusts his finger gently, watching Marco’s brightly-flushed face for anything other than need. Marco wiggles for him, his lips parting on soft sighs as he rocks back onto Jean’s finger, and the way his hands fist shakily in the sheets completely gives away how bad he wants to come.

Thrusting his finger evenly and picking up the pace, Jean coaxes Marco into wrapping his shaking legs around his waist. The brunette whimpers quietly and follows Jean’s nudging directions, holding his boyfriend tightly even as he tries to keep up with the barely-sufficient pace of his finger. Jean murmurs warm praises as he slowly works a second finger in, whispering to him how good he is, how gorgeous, how much he wants to hear Marco cry out for him, until he’s thrusting two fingers smoothly into his boyfriend with a low moan. The way Marco squeezes him, the way his lips part on near-silent little moans threatens to have Jean hard for him again, but he pushes his own sated need aside in favor of pleasing Marco.

“Can’t believe how good you are to me, baby,” Jean whispers, adjusting his wrist so his fingers slide deeply, quickly into Marco, keeping a rhythm that has his boyfriend arching and reaching for him, his hands landing on Jean’s knees and squeezing desperately. “You’re so amazing, Marco, so damn perfect.” Jean licks his lips, running his free hand slowly up the inside of Marco’s thigh. “Does it feel good, babe? You like it?”

Swallowing heavily, Marco blinks up at Jean, nodding quickly and writhing in his lap, silently begging for more. He’s good at keeping quiet by now, but Jean can hear his control slipping in the little gasping moans that escape in his breathy pants. “J-Jean, Jean—‘s g-good, ah…”

“Looks good,” Jean hums, curling his hand around Marco’s shaking hip. “Looks so good, Marco, watching you move like this makes me wanna fuck you.”

Marco arches his back tightly, clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle the noisy moan he’d almost let out. He’s shaking hard now, letting Jean fuck him on his fingers, too blown away to keep the pace anymore. His twitching cock drips precome, his thighs tensing, and when Jean hums and curls his fingers, stroking inside of Marco, the brunette freezes for a moment. His other hand comes to cover the one stifling his moans, but little whines still escape through his nose with every shallow breath. Marco’s fucking beautiful like this.

Jean finds Marco’s sweet spot and rubs his fingers firmly against it, persistent and steady, and the way Marco’s whole body breaks into shivers is breathtaking.

Eager to see Marco come, Jean leans forward slightly, thrusting his curved fingers hard into Marco and rubbing past his prostate with every move, and Marco’s about brainless. He’s arched near off the bed, his body so tense, so pretty, his stomach and his chest slick with thick precome, almost there, almost there…

“You’d feel so good around my dick, Marco,” Jean breathes, slicking a third finger with the lube around his entrance before working it gently into him, and as he picks up his firm thrusts again, one of Marco’s hands slams back into the sheets and fists there, pulling, so close it’s driving him crazy. “I wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” Jean continues, pausing to rub tight circles over Marco’s prostate. “Wanna make you go crazy under me, you look so fucking good like this. Think about it, babe, think about my cock spreading you open and hitting you so deep, it’d fill you up so good, hm? You like the way it feels in your mouth, imagine how good it’d feel with your legs around my waist while I fuck the brains out of you. I’d make you scream my name, Marco, make you come so hard you get dizzy, and I’d fuck you through it. It’d be so good, baby.” Jean moans softly, running his free hand up Marco’s soaked chest, sliding his palm through his boyfriend’s mess until he drags it back down and wraps slick fingers around Marco’s cock.

When he starts stroking him quickly, perfectly in time with the fingers spreading him open, Marco’s hands scrabble for Jean’s abandoned pillow, and he crushes it against his face just in time for him to scream Jean’s name, every muscle in his body pulled tight and shaking, tensing so hard his hip pops, and Jean doesn’t have to tell him to come but he does anyway just for the way it makes Marco buck into his hand.

He’s coming, coming so goddamn hard he’s seeing stars and his ears ring, unable to stop crying out for Jean, breathlessly sobbing his boyfriend’s name into the pillow as Jean fucks him and strokes him through his mind-blowing orgasm. Jean moans for him, following the desperate waves of Marco’s writhing body as he keeps it going, keeps him high, then slowly brings him down from it, his hands working in perfect synchrony with his rumbling voice and Marco’s own movements.

The birds chirping outside the window are louder now, Marco realizes dully, and when he pulls the pillow away from his face, he’d apparently lost enough time that the sun had started rising through the trees. Marco swallows heavily, blinking the daze from his eyes, and he jumps slightly when Jean runs a wet paper towel over the mess of precome and jizz covering him.

Although he’d meant to ask an actual question, the best Marco can vocalize at this point is “Hngh.”

Jean laughs quietly, his hair on end and his eyes tired, before he leans down and kisses his boyfriend lovingly. “Definitely gotta keep condoms here, babe.”

“… Hnk.”

Laughing again, Jean finishes cleaning them both up, before he hauls Marco back up into the rest of the pillows for some well-deserved snuggling. Marco wraps himself fluidly around Jean and is already half-asleep, and before he can try to ask Jean where his phone is, the blonde murmurs, “I already texted your mom from your phone and asked for a day off.”

Marco hums gratefully, burrowing into Jean’s warm chest and further under the blankets. “Love you,” he rasps, his voice still some degree of fucked, and Jean returns the sentiment into his hair a hundred times around a thousand soft kisses until they’re both blissfully passed out, hopefully for the bulk of the day.

Chapter Text

“So, we could send them to the space camp, right,” Marco says as he jabs at a sizzling pile of eggs, apparently not realizing that half past noon isn’t quite early enough for his boyfriend to be cognizant. Jean’s still staring vacantly at the slowly-bubbling coffeemaker. “But that one’s only until the end of June, and my parents and I were kind of hoping for a little more time than that, and the general STEM camp has a more varied range of sciences for them to explore.”

“Uh-huh,” Jean mumbles, chin resting heavy in his palm.

“But if we send them to the STEM camp, there’s gender-segregated bunking, and you know how all three of them feel about the gender binary,” Marco continues, dumping a mountain of scrambled eggs onto the plate in front of his half-asleep boyfriend.

“Uh-huh.”

Marco puts the pan back on the stove, squinting at Jean. His boyfriend’s still only partially conscious, rocking some impressive bedhead and a pale crop of stubble, and he’s leaning more and more into his palm the heavier his eyelids get. Smiling softly, Marco crosses his arms and leans his hip against the counter, ignoring the toaster behind him as it launches Eggos into the air. “Plus, the STEM camp has a mess cook who never quite recovered from the Vietnam War, and who may or may not be having intimate relations with the fridges.”

“Uh-huh.”

Wow, even the rarely-applicable Wet Hot American Summer reference is above Jean this early. If 12:48 in the afternoon can be considered ‘early.’ Marco rolls his eyes and flings an Eggo at Jean, successfully getting him right across the nose and startling him enough to get him to at least sit up.

“Oy—”

“Sorry,” Marco laughs, dropping the other waffle onto Jean’s plate as he pours him some coffee. “My parents launched this on me at, like, seven this morning, so it’s been my whole day so far.”

Jean stares at Marco over the rim of his mug as he sips his still-hot coffee without blinking. He downs half the cup before he finally croaks, “You’ve been up since seven?”

“Mhm.”

“… Why.”

Marco shrugs, coming to cross his arms on the island in front of Jean. “The boys woke up kinda late today.”

“Late?” Jean squints at his boyfriend, leaning forward. “Seven is late?”

“Blissfully, yes,” Marco laughs. “They’re three years old, Jean. Eat your breakfast.”

Seemingly confused, Jean squints harder, then glances at the plate under his nose. He stares for a good thirty seconds before he looks back up at Marco. “You made breakfast?”

Unable to help his laughter, Marco leans his head down into his forearms and shakes with giggles. Jean just grumbles and finishes his coffee before he tries socializing again.

--

It takes a solid pot and a half of coffee before Jean’s his usual self, by which point he and Marco have retreated to Jean’s room, legs tangled atop the sheets, shirts discarded, and hands fully occupied.

“So across like this—”

Marco hisses quietly, Jean raising his eyebrows and pausing. “No, nono. Under.”

“Oh.” Jean’s brow furrows, leaning closer to examine. “Like that?”

“Mm, wait, wait—” Marco squints down at Jean’s hands. “I don’t—hmm. I did it yesterday, it was awesome.”

“What if you did it to me?” Marco blinks back up at his boyfriend, who shrugs and continues. “Might be easier to just do it again.”

“Yeah, okay.” Sighing and collapsing the half-mutilated cat’s cradle he’d been holding between them, Marco hands the loop of string over to Jean, watching him try to assemble it the way he’d been shown. “I don’t know how they even learn this stuff,” Marco murmurs, tucking his elbow under his head and trailing his free hand down Jean’s side.

“They’re about that age, though,” Jean hums, holding his appropriately-laced fingers out to Marco. “I remember Sasha and Connie going apeshit about this stuff in third grade too.”

“Some things never change, huh.”

“Maybe not.”

Marco retrieves his hands and picks at the yarn, trying and failing to remember how his younger siblings had moved the strings around into a bajillion different shapes. He manages to make a pretty spectacular knot, though, which has Jean badly stifling giggles. By the time Marco’s wrecked the length of yarn beyond repair, he’s huffing and more than ready to give up, so he extricates it from Jean’s fingers and tosses it somewhere onto the floor.

“I give up. It’s witchcraft,” Marco grouses, instead wrapping himself more firmly around Jean and burying his face in his neck. Jean smells like coffee still, so Marco nuzzles deeper with a soft hum.

Jean laughs at him some more, sliding his thigh up over Marco’s hip and dragging him closer. He’s content to snuggle him for a while, playing with soft black hair idly, until the caffeine starts him shifting and fidgeting. “So, I was watching porn the other day—”

“Not even gonna try for a smooth segue there, huh,” Marco groans, pulling back to raise an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

“Sorry,” Jean laughs, giving a half-hearted shrug. “It just came to mind. But I was watching porn, and I don’t really remember how, but the one guy was like—” Jean pulls his hands between them again in an obvious mimicry of a sixty-nine. “Balanced on his shoulders on the bed with his legs spread up in the air like this, right? And the other guy was, like, holding his butt so he didn’t fall over or whatever.”

“Like when you get bored watching TV?” Jean blinks at Marco, who laughs and rests his hand on his boyfriend’s hip idly. “Maybe it’s only when you’re stoned. You know, when you turn upside-down on the couch and cross your legs up against the wall. I don’t know how it doesn’t make blood rush to your head.”

“Ohh, yeah, yeah,” Jean chirps, shifting to face Marco more. “Yeah, kinda like that. So he was suckin’ the other guy’s dick, right, and the guy was fingering him, and he jizzed all over his own chest. It was cool.”

“Cool story,” Marco laughs, untangling one leg and stretching the impending cramp out of it. Jean just rolls his eyes. “I mean, if you’re hinting, I definitely think I can make that happen for you.”

Jean shrugs, wrapping his arms around Marco’s neck and kissing him noisily. “Yeah, man. Next time I’m upside-down on the couch just plop your dick on my face. I really doubt I’ll mind.”

“Mm, deal,” Marco murmurs, wrapping himself back around his thin boyfriend and giving him a less noisy, more intimate kiss, kind of unwilling to admit how much he likes the sound of that. Even with the questionably-sexy presentation. Jean hums and runs his fingers through Marco’s hair, slipping his tongue between his lips as he presses their bare chests together.

They move comfortably into making out, tangling together further and sliding warm hands idly across exposed skin, until Jean starts getting significantly friskier with his wandering fingers. He nibbles playfully at Marco’s lips, squeezing his ass through his jeans and laughing when the brunette pulls away with a heated sigh and licks his lips.

“Since we’re on the subject,” Jean purrs, rolling them so he’s resting comfortably between Marco’s thighs. “It’s been a while since I’ve sucked your dick.”

“Jeez, Jean,” Marco breathes, grinning even as he pulls Jean down and kisses him again, his legs winding loosely around Jean’s hips. “Gotta work on your transitions.”

Jean sucks at Marco’s lips, resting his weight on his elbows as he rocks their hips together slowly. “Grace isn’t my strong point.” He kisses along Marco’s jaw, nudging his chin aside so he can mouth down his neck, hot and wet, encouraged by the way Marco shivers under him and squeezes his shoulders. Catching one of Marco’s hands and twining their fingers tightly, Jean grinds more firmly and seals his lips over the point of his boyfriend’s collarbone, already sucking gently.

“H-hey, watch the marks,” Marco mumbles, sliding his free hand down the blonde’s back. “Can’t wear a shirt to the pool.”

“Sure you can.” Jean nips at the bone, running his tongue along it with a low groan until he’s nibbling at Marco’s strong shoulder. “Old people do it all the time.”

“M-mm, I suppose, yeah.” Marco laughs softly, the sound hitching when Jean drags his teeth back along his collarbone to the hollow of his exposed throat. “Ah, Jean…”

“Just a little one, please?” Jean whispers, his lips resting warm over the tiny pink mark he’d already started.

Marco licks his lips, grinning while Jean’s not paying attention and rolling his hips up against Jean’s with a quiet moan. “A little one,” he agrees, knowing that it won’t matter much with how dark Jean leaves them. He isn’t exactly complaining, though, and he’s long past the point where he cares if anyone gives him shit for them.

With a hum, Jean mouths along the bone again, then seals his lips over the spot where it fades down into the smooth muscle of his shoulder and sucks gently. As he meets the even rhythm of Jean’s hips with his own, his cock already half-hard and trapped in his jeans, Marco swallows little whines and squeezes his boyfriend’s hand. Jean grinds harder against him and bites at the hickey as he sucks, soothing the sting with his warm tongue and sighing when Marco’s breath catches and his back arches slightly.

While Jean’s working the mark into his shoulder, Marco wiggles his hands free and reaches between them to undo his pants, shamelessly palming at Jean’s dick through his loose sweatpants once he does. The soft moan that Jean lets out against him has Marco shivering, his fingers giving a good, firm squeeze before he adjusts their hips again and lets their cocks rub right against each other with a sigh.

“J-Jean, damn,” Marco breathes, running his warm hands up Jean’s sides until he’s spreading his fingers over the blonde’s shoulders, his thighs wrapping around his boyfriend’s hips again and pulling them harder together. Jean pulls off the hickey with a wet ‘pop’ and chuckles, running his tongue over it before moving to kiss Marco breathless.

“So it might not be that little,” Jean laughs after a moment, flicking his tongue between Marco’s lips and biting at them. Keeping their easy rhythm, he hums and shifts his hands so he can rub his thumbs over Marco’s nipples gently.

“’S okay,” Marco murmurs, arching his chest into Jean’s fingers. “Mm, that’s nice, babe…”

“Yeah?” With a low moan, Jean grinds their arousals together for a moment longer, brushing his lips against Marco’s and drinking in the soft sounds his boyfriend makes at the sweet friction, before he shifts and starts the slow, hot trail of his mouth down Marco’s body. He nips at his collarbone again, unable to resist sparing it the attention as he passes, before he drags his flushed lips down the center of Marco’s chest with a sigh. He pinches and rolls at one nipple as he kisses over to the other, taking his sweet time in laving his tongue over it and sucking the hard nub between his lips.

It’s rare that Jean gets to take his time with Marco, at least during the daytime. At night, as long as they’re quiet, he can take as long as he likes, but Marco’s body is unrivaled in the bright light streaming hot through his thin curtains. Jean nibbles gently at Marco’s nipple, soothing again with his broad tongue when the brunette arches into it with a tiny whine, and the view in the sunlight is probably going into Jean’s spank bank forever.

He’s so glad he has the house to himself, because he’s in a mood to have Marco crying out for him.

Leaning up slightly to drag his gaze over the exposed column of Marco’s throat, his smoothly-rising chest and the barest outline of his ribs when he gasps and arches, the squeeze of his thighs around Jean’s waist… yup. If Jean had any skill whatsoever with a camera, he’d immortalize this moment, the way his flushed boyfriend looks under him.

The thought of how Marco would look if Jean fucked him crosses his mind briefly. They’ve been moving at their own pace, though, satisfied with what they have to give and slowly exploring each other as the desire arises. One day, he reasons as he leans back down and laves his tongue over Marco’s other nipple, his hand sliding down to palm at his boyfriend through his underwear. Until then, this is more than enough to have Jean’s cock straining at the front of his loose pants, already missing the friction of their slow grind.

With a parting kiss to his chest, Jean drags his lips down to the curve of Marco’s ribcage, the gently-protruding outline more stark with each deep, shaking breath. He nips at the soft angle of these bones too, flicking his heated gaze back up to Marco’s. He’s watching him intently, his hands resting on Jean’s shoulders and squeezing encouragingly as he bites his flushed lips, and the twitch of his eyebrows and the warm color of his cheeks betrays how affected he is by Jean’s slow worship of his dark, beautifully freckled skin.

As he mouths slowly down the line of Marco’s abdomen, Jean runs his hands up over his boyfriend’s sides and spreads his fingers over his ribs, slowing his descent to flick his tongue into his navel and admire the stark contrast to their skin. He looks back up at Marco as he does, who slides one hand gently into Jean’s messy hair and twines the fingers of the other with Jean’s as he smiles lovingly down at him.

Marco lets him take his time, even as he bites achingly slow down the soft, dark trail of hair leading to the already-slick fabric stretched tight over Marco’s cock. Jean smirks up at him and drags his tongue along the edge of his boxers, relishing the shivering moan Marco lets out at the gentle teasing, before he takes his hands back and curls his fingers under the hem of his underwear. Arching up helpfully, Marco bites his lip and grins as Jean tugs his boxers and his pants down over his ass, letting his cock bounce wetly against his flat stomach. Jean sits up and pulls them off entirely, never one to pass up a chance to run his hands up Marco’s fucking incredible thighs.

He does so with a low groan, settling onto his stomach between them and kissing up from the inside of his knee, his lips slipping over soft, hot skin in his slow appreciation of Marco’s amazing body.

“Y-you know,” Marco mumbles, stuffing a pillow under his head so he can watch Jean. The blonde peers up at him, blinking widely, but he doesn’t stop the trail of kisses up increasingly-sensitive flesh. “People who think horny teenagers just hump artlessly have n-never met you.”

Jean raises his eyebrows, but continues the path of his lips, merely humming questioningly before he laves his tongue up the sensitive join of Marco’s thigh. Marco bucks his hips, hands coming to rest shakily on Jean’s head with a little whimper.

“I-I mean,” Marco continues after a moment, right before he’s derailed by the way Jean licks up that spot again, then up past his now-dripping cock and over the curve of his hip bone. “O-oh f-fuck, Jean—”

Grinning, Jean nibbles at Marco’s hip, pressing his lips to the soft flesh just above it and sucking another, bigger hickey there. It’s down far enough that swim trunks will cover it, but Marco’s not even thinking about that anymore, not when Jean’s wiggling further between his thighs and sucking harder, biting, licking, before pulling off again with a hum.

“Sorry,” he says, grinning up at Marco again. “You were sayin’?”

“I, uh,” Marco starts, furrowing his brow as he tries to blink away the aroused fuzz settling over his mind. “O-oh. I was sayin’, uh. People seem to think that us young folk don’t have a clue what we’re doin’, but you, u-um.” Marco pauses, swallows, then clears his throat and averts his gaze.

Jean kisses up Marco’s hip again, peering up at him. “’M not gonna make fun of you.”

He buries his face in his hands with a whine anyway, and Jean rests his chin lightly on his stomach to wait out the embarrassment. “I dunno,” Marco says finally, scrubbing at his flushed face before he runs his hands through his hair and sighs. “Guess I just feel like you make an art of it. Or s-somethin’, I dunno.”

Smiling softly, Jean crawls up again and kisses Marco deeply, lovingly, his hands resting on his warm cheeks until the embarrassed fidgeting stops and his boyfriend relaxes under him. “Think it’s called ‘makin’ love,’” Jean murmurs against his lips, rubbing his thumbs over Marco’s cheekbones with a hum. “And I’m just appreciating what’s already here.”

With an audible swallow, Marco pulls Jean against himself, wrapping tightly around him and kissing him again. Jean thinks for a moment that maybe he doesn’t tell Marco enough how fucking beautiful he is and makes a note to correct that, even as he pulls back and whispers sweet love against his lips, their hips rocking gently together again. Jean grimaces and reaches down to tug his pants down, his cock bobbing out eagerly, and when he settles against Marco again, it’s with a content hum and more soft whispers.

The way Marco flushes under the intensity of Jean’s love is nearly enough to distract him, nearly enough to keep him here so he can work Marco over with his hands until his boyfriend’s helpless against him and gasping his name, but it really has been a while since he’s sucked Marco off. Jean reaches between them and rubs their cocks together with a moan, just a few gentle pulls, before he wiggles back down where he was and nuzzles his face against Marco’s arousal.

Jean wraps his hand around his boyfriend’s cock and strokes him slowly, covering the head with his foreskin before tugging it back gently, licking his lips at the quiet sound Marco makes, the way he wiggles. The head’s sensitive, Jean has long since learned, so after a few firm pulls, Jean leans forward and sucks warmly at his foreskin, his eyes sliding shut as he does.

Marco’s so different from him, perfectly so; where Jean loves the way his boyfriend slides his tongue through his slit, Marco’s is too sensitive at first, the sensation too much for him. He likes being stroked more, prefers the feeling of Jean’s tongue dragging up his length and the way he sucks soft skin between his lips and toys with it. Taking his time has the benefit of letting Jean learn exactly where Marco likes being touched and when, when something goes from ‘too much’ to ‘perfect,’ the way he moves when he feels good and how he sounds when he’s close. Jean uses the knowledge to his advantage.

He wiggles close and, running his tongue from the base up until he's just shy of where it’s too early to tease Marco, wraps his lips around his cock with a deep hum. Jean sucks gently down his length, working his tongue against him, his fingers stroking what he can’t quite fit in his mouth yet, and Marco’s already moaning beautifully for him, his hands fisting in the sheets and his eyes squeezing shut. His thighs shake around Jean, so he runs his free hand along one, fingers curling around him and soothing him as he bobs his head slowly over Marco’s cock.

“J-Jean, fuck,” Marco moans softly, spreading his thighs for Jean and twitching into the tight heat of his mouth. “F-feels amazing…”

When Jean hums around him and takes him deeper, Marco whimpers, his back arching and his mouth falling open, before he’s tugging gently at Jean’s hair to get his attention.

“L-let—ah—let me do you too?”

Jean blinks, curling his tongue around Marco and sucking, moving down further. He keeps his eyes on Marco’s as he buries his nose in dark curls and swallows, the feeling leaving Marco gasping and writhing under him. Pulling off slowly, Jean kisses the head of his dick gently, then switches back to stroking him as he licks his lips and considers his flushing, trembling boyfriend.

“C’mon,” Marco murmurs, grinning hazily and gesturing Jean closer.

“’Kay.” Jean sits up and kicks his pants the rest of the way off. Marco wiggles further down the bed to make room, reaching for Jean as he shifts so his hips are resting comfortably by his boyfriend’s head. Marco moves with him, spreading his pale thighs with warm hands, and lays his head on Jean’s thigh as he wraps his hand around his cock and strokes evenly. Jean shivers, adjusting to Marco’s position and twisting to lean over him again. “You okay down there?”

“Mhm,” Marco replies, before he leans up onto his elbow and angles Jean's slick cock toward him. Just as Jean had suspected, Marco has him memorized too, and he takes a moment to look down and watch as Marco flicks his clever tongue through Jean’s soaked slit with a low moan. Jean’s eyes flutter closed, his body tensing slightly at the feeling, before he shifts back over Marco’s cock and slides him into his mouth.

They adjust together, finding a comfortable position as they bob their heads slowly, each starting to lose themselves in the pleasured fog. Jean finds himself rocking into Marco’s mouth to his slow beat, and the brunette lets him, moving in time with him and sucking him deep as he does. Moaning softly around Marco, Jean shivers and leans closer, takes Marco deeper, hollowing his cheeks around him. The way his boyfriend whimpers around his cock is making Jean more than a little crazy, the gentle strokes around the base just adding to the insane sensation. Marco’s pulling him closer with his mouth and his free hand, twisting to suck down more of him with a little whine, and Jean responds by moving his head faster, taking him eagerly and swallowing around him, seeking more of those sweet sounds muffled against his cock.

Even with a mouthful of Jean’s dick, Marco’s moaning and panting through his nose, taking his boyfriend deep with each pull, and Jean can’t help but thrust his hips more. He hollows his cheeks around Marco again, his mouth tight around him, his hands moving to spread dark thighs wider as he picks up the pace. He sucks more insistently, his tongue curling and caressing, and his fingers creep around toward Marco’s inner thighs so he can run his nails up sensitive skin. The way Marco shivers under him has him giving muffled moans as he moves. Marco’s twitching up into his mouth too, his hand moving from where he’s holding Jean’s cock around to squeeze encouragingly at his ass, clearly in favor of the way Jean’s rocking into his mouth.

At this rate, Jean’s not gonna last. The feeling of Marco’s incredibly talented mouth and tongue on him is near mind-blowing, and that along with the way Marco fills up his mouth so damn perfectly… Jean throws himself briefly into sucking his boyfriend off, trying to keep the rhythm of his hips merciful for Marco’s sake, before he pulls back and moans Marco’s name, stroking quickly. “B-babe, ‘s fucking amazing,” he gasps, leaning down to flick his tongue along the crease of his thigh, before he wraps his lips back around Marco's cock and sucks. Stroking him firmly, Jean slides his tongue under Marco’s foreskin, licking around his precome-slick head before dragging his tongue over it, and Marco bucks up into the feeling with a loud moan before he takes Jean deep and fucking swallows him.

Jean shakes, pulling off to mouth wetly up the shaft before he returns the favor, then again, sucking tightly and humming around him and scratching his nails up the insides of his thighs, and he has his reward when Marco pulls back with a gasping cry and arches up for it. He starts stuttering an apology when Jean chokes slightly, but he cuts himself off with another loud whine of Jean’s name when the blonde shakes it off and swallows him again.

It’s when Jean sucks back up and flicks his tongue quickly, insistently through Marco’s sensitive slit and reaches around to palm gently at Marco’s balls that the brunette loses it. “J-J-Jean, Jean, f-fuck—” Marco strokes Jean desperately and presses gasping moans against slick flesh as he trembles and arches, then finally gives in. “Jean, fuck, c-coming, I’m coming—ah—”

Jean swallows Marco’s come eagerly, stroking and sucking it out of him and moaning as he does, his hips moving faster into Marco’s slippery hand. Marco comes apart for him so perfectly, breathing broken moans of Jean’s name and gasping whimpers as he comes hard into Jean’s mouth, already sensitive and twitching under him.

Just the sound of his boyfriend coming and the feeling of his spent cock twitching against Jean’s tongue is enough to send him over, with how hard he’d been holding back trying to get Marco there before him. Swallowing the last of Marco’s come, Jean pulls off and buries his face against his boyfriend’s thigh as he gasps and moans, and it completely escapes him to give Marco some kind of warning before he’s already there. Marco had been nuzzling against his cock, sighing little whimpers as he stroked hard and quick, and he squeaks when Jean just fucking comes hard and messy all over him. Jean rocks his hips into Marco’s grip as he lets himself fall, soft murmurs of Marco’s name escaping breathless and brainless.

“F-fuck,” Jean rasps after he can think again, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses against Marco’s thigh and twitching with little aftershocks.

“Hey,” Marco laughs, patting Jean’s hip to get his hazy attention. Jean flops onto his back next to Marco, then leans up to look at him, and he can’t really help the choked whimper or the buck of his hips when he realizes the mess he’d made. Marco’s grinning at him, licking Jean's come off his lips. Well, what little of it that had landed there. The rest is streaked down his boyfriend’s strong jaw, some pooling in the dip of his marked collarbone, dripping over the bone and slowly rolling down Marco’s chest.

“O-ohfuck,” Jean mumbles, collapsing back into the sheets and running his hands down his face with a fucked-out groan. “Oh my god. S-sorry, babe.”

“You’re messy.”

Jean laughs, letting his arm flop across Marco’s stomach so he can trail weak fingers up his side. “My bad.”

“Can you, uh,” Marco starts, already biting down more laughter. “Can you get me a paper towel or something?”

“Hngh,” Jean replies, before he rolls off the bed and digs a stash of napkins out of his end table to help clean Marco up.

Once they’ve gotten it all and Jean’s licked a stray spurt off the angle of Marco’s jaw, they curl up together and just enjoy their shared warmth in the lazy afternoon sun, laughing and kissing and whispering sweet love against each other.

Chapter Text

It's something about this semester. Something in the air. Or the water, the food, something in their clothes and in their bed and in their chests that just keeps digging deeper, sharper, keeping them on edge and uneasy.

Senior year is supposed to be easy. Shit, it was the first time around, when they'd already held each other for three years, when they'd had just about all of their firsts together, when they had time to sit and think and notice how evenly their hearts beat in time. When they'd been accepted to college and everything after that just fell into place before their feet.

Now they're here again. Another senior year.

Everything fell into line the first time. The second time, everything is fucking falling apart.

They're tense with each other, even though they don't mean it. They don't mean to assign blame so harshly, to get so worked up about nothing at all, to get so damn mad so damn often. Growing up is fucking scary, though, and the learning curve is steep enough to knock most people on their asses and keep them there for a good while. They juggle these fears and tell each other about them after they've already blown up, and they apologize quietly for snapping so hard over dumb shit like dishes, and sometimes it's enough.

Sometimes, it is not enough.

It’s not enough when Marco throws his hands up and reminds Jean too loudly of the time he stayed up too long, smoked too much, and nearly burned their apartment down. He clenches his fists and his voice is shaking when, halfway through wondering aloud when Jean is gonna learn to be fucking responsible, he realizes that he doesn't mean that, and that it's kind of fucked up.

Marco might have tried to backpedal, to apologize. But Jean's tense. He's scared. He fucked up at the lab last week, and he basically bombed a test earlier today. He hasn't heard back from any of the grad schools he applied to. So when Marco's in the middle of drawing the breath for a stuttered apology, Jean's too afraid of hearing more about what a fuckup he is to let him start.

Jean is blind when he picks up whatever his hand slams down on first (his phone). He is deaf when he stands, his cheap old cell creaking in his crushing grip. He should have been dumb when his body moves like it's not his own, when he wings the fucking phone across the room and into the wall, where it shatters with a crunch that is muted by the volume of Jean's cruel words.

When Jean's out of breath for screaming and tears are streaming down Marco's face, salt trails equal parts rage, disbelief, and guilt, they stare at each other for a long, heavy moment.

They both fucked up. They know it.

But Jean is starting to lose himself, and Marco can't stop sobbing. The air is too thick for words here, the pain and the anger and the fear combusting into a shrieking tempest.

It's far too much for this tiny room. They both crack.

Seven years of their steady cadence shudder and fall like leaves when Jean finds his voice first.

"I'm fucking done."

--

It’s been three days since Jean started crashing on Connie’s couch.

He can still hear the echoing slam of the front door of the apartment. He can still hear Marco choking on his words. When he closes his eyes, all he sees is Marco. Shaking hands fisted, teeth savaging his lip, tears coursing down his face and dripping from his chin as he squeezed his bloodshot eyes closed and started erasing Jean from his mind.

At least, Jean imagines he had.

His phone is in pieces on that living room floor, so he can’t even stare down at the screen and try to convince himself that Marco wants to hear from him.

If he drinks too fucking much, neither Connie nor Sasha say anything about it. He does them the favor of not smoking in their house. He ends up spending a lot of time on their stoop, face buried in his hands as his leg bounces non-stop and he smokes until his chest feels like it’s burning.

“You’ve been under a lot of stress, man,” Connie says one night, squeezing Jean’s shoulder as he hunches over a beer and tries not to look like he’s been crying as hard as he has. “Both of you have. Sometimes shit blows up.”

Jean doesn’t reply at first. He doesn’t even know where to begin. Stress doesn’t fucking excuse the shit he said to Marco right before he left. He runs his hands down his face and gives a tremulous sigh, trying to sort his shit out through the thick fog that’s settled in his skull.

“Have you seen him in class?” Jean stares at the ceiling as he asks, willing tears to just leave him alone for once. His eyes fucking hurt from it. Connie sighs and shrugs, drinking his beer before he replies.

“Not the next day, no, but he came today.”

Jean wants to ask how he looked. He knows he’s an awful person, because he doesn’t want to imagine Marco looking as horrible as Jean does, but that’s not the only reason he swallows the question in a mouthful of bitter ale.

Marco’s a strong-ass human being. He’s willful and understanding and he gets mad so rarely, and Jean is a fucking awful person because he can’t really handle the idea of Marco putting on a brave face and smiling until he’s over Jean.

Connie doesn’t say anything when Jean buries his face in his arms on the table and shakes with bitten-back sobs. He just runs his hand over his shoulders and drinks his beer and lets Jean get it out.

--

“Damn, dude,” Thomas says, leaning forward over the lab bench between them. “Seven years, though?”

Jean doesn’t answer. He just titrates and lets the question settle.

“Together that long, that’s like a fucking marriage. And you’re sure it’s—”

Thomas stops talking when Jean crushes the empty glass flask he’d been holding, preparing to switch it out with the one full of bright pink waste solution. He stares blankly at the blood pooling under his glove, waiting out the stinging pain and the unconscious tremors while Thomas hurries over with the first aid kit.

Once the glass has been picked out of Jean’s cuts and he’s been disinfected and bandaged, after he’s assured every authority figure on the fucking floor that yes, the glassware was clean and no, no chemicals got into the cuts, he shrugs out of his lab coat and realizes that it’s not how long they’d been together that’s preventing him from getting over Marco.

--

“You’ll be back on your feet in no time,” Auruo says, raising his half-drained beer to Jean, who just picks at his bandages and wishes the dirty bar floor would swallow him whole.

The other people around him carry on their conversations, glancing over at Jean and Auruo occasionally, checking to make sure Jean’s not going to break the dude’s face. He means well, he really does, but Auruo is famously Not Good with words.

He leans over and pats Jean a little too vigorously on the shoulder, then offers him a shot. “You don’t need him, man.”

Jean takes the shot, and when he puts the tiny glass on the table, he looks up at the lame band playing in the corner and realizes that no, he doesn’t need Marco.

That’s not what’s keeping him this low either.

--

After a week, Jean takes to wandering. He’s restless, constantly restless, like he’s a damn lab rat dosed on cocaine or something. Just running in endless circles until he collapses, only to wake up the next day and repeat. His chest feels heavy from smoke and his hair is always on end from running his hands through it.

Jean is a mess. He knows he is.

Shit, there isn’t really any other excuse for standing in a fountain at three in the goddamn morning, significantly less drunk than he’d like and chain-smoking and staring at a stone dolphin. There are probably better places than this to do the kind of thinking he’s attempting, but goddammit, sometimes you just need to stand in a goddamn fountain.

Either way, Jean lights another cigarette, makes firm eye contact with the dolphin, and imagines again a future without Marco in it.

Marco Bodt was Jean’s first and only love, aside from chemistry. They know each other inside and out. Marco can look at Jean from across the room and know instantly how close he is to punching someone, how tired he is, whether or not he’s actually listening to the conversation. He has a million different smiles for a million of Jean’s petty annoyances, and all of them strike hard and true and leave Jean feeling (sometimes begrudgingly) at peace with the universe.

Jean knows Marco, too, it’s not like Marco’s some kind of superhuman psychic boy wonder. He has his flaws, his insecurities, his anxieties. He makes mistakes. He has inhuman levels of empathy and understanding, which is probably how he dealt with Jean for seven straight years. There’s just something calming about him, something that kept Jean in line when he was a piece of shit and that kept him steady when he was anxious. It’s too much, though, and Marco finds himself taking on the burdens of others far too heavily without stopping to think of himself. It weighs on him.

Neither of them are perfect.

Leaning against the dolphin, Jean closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose, the water in the fountain lapping at his calves and trickling soothingly in a short arc from the dolphin’s comically pursed lips.

He doesn’t understand people. That’s probably what it is.

Marco’s the philosopher, Jean is the chemist. Marco understands too much, Jean understands too little, and between them they made just about enough sense of the world to be comfortable. And now it’s over.

Jean kicks at the water idly and makes another lap, dodging under the dolphin to avoid its stream.

He likes chemistry. He likes its simplicity. Molecules don’t act erratically and hide their pain. They act logically. Predictably.

Jean can look at two molecules and tell you exactly how they’ll act in any environment, whether they’ll attract or repel, where they’ll bind, and what will tear them apart. He can predict the chaos of any system given enough time and enough quiet.

People don’t act like the constituents that drive them, not really. There aren’t any rules. They’re unpredictable. Jean could never have predicted that he’d walk out on Marco, and he definitely wouldn’t have ever predicted that Marco would let him.

It takes a few minutes, but Jean realizes belatedly that he’s standing in the dolphin’s stream, and it’s streaking through his hair and into his shirt. He sighs and slicks his bangs back against his head, letting the stream rain cold on his flushed face for just a moment before he steps out of its way.

There has to be a reason Jean is having so much trouble with this.

Auruo was unwittingly correct; Jean definitely doesn’t need Marco, like he can’t breathe without him or some shit. He’s his own person with his own strengths, and Marco’s the same. It’s not even that he’s ‘put too much time into it,’ as Thomas had implied, because he learned his mother’s lesson with that shit. When you’re unhappy, you get help or you leave. That’s that. It won’t get better on its own. Jean’s never been the kind of person to think of time as a factor against letting go.

Jean lights another cigarette and squeezes his eyes shut.

He can’t even begin to move on from this, and it’s pissing him off, because he’s really fucking tired of crying, of staring at the wall and being unfocused.

He’s especially tired of his hands turning all the time to find Marco’s, because he knows he’s not there anymore. Still, he can’t stop his fingers from spreading to make room between them for Marco’s, can’t stop his eyes from searching for him, can’t stop his body from shifting to accommodate someone who will never occupy that space again.

Flicking his cigarette out of the fountain, Jean turns to the dolphin and thinks again about Marco. Marco, who always understood a little more than he probably should’ve. Who always knew how to read Jean like a damn book. Who would lay beside Jean with their gangly teenage bodies tangled together and tap out their synchronous pulse with his thumb as he smiled and squeezed their twined fingers.

Jean was a piece of shit when he was young, but ever since he owned up to his feelings for his childhood best friend, he’s felt calm. At peace. When they’d started dating, Jean found that he could sit with Marco for hours and just watch the clouds move and nothing else. The restless drive had quieted, and Jean could breathe easy.

He can move on from Marco. He can focus on his work, and they’ll both eventually find someone else, but Jean seriously doubts he will ever really feel that bone-deep comfort again. In twenty-two years, Jean has never met another person that could make him feel like Marco does. Like no matter how long he sits and watches cars or clouds, it’s not time wasted. Like it’s okay to just exist for a while without doing something or making something or going somewhere. Like it’s okay to put his problems on the table and walk away from them for a while, instead of obsessively stabbing at them and getting more and more frustrated.

No matter where he goes or how successful Jean is, he has this sneaking suspicion that his fingers will always spread just far enough for Marco’s to slide between.

It’s chemistry, he realizes, staring up at the brightly-shining moon. Sometimes disturbing a system shifts the delicate, easy balance between two molecules and breaks them apart. Their two halves can move along and form other bonds; they’re not fucking useless when they’re apart. But together… together, their bond is the most stable, and it’s enough to bring the entire system around them back into quiet equilibrium.

Jean realizes that maybe people and their molecules have more in common than he thought right about when he realizes that he didn’t take his shoes off before he jumped into the fountain, and that he’s standing in the damn stream again. He’s soaked from head to toe.

Even if his shoes squish with every pounding step that leads him at full speed back to their apartment, Jean knows that he’s half of something else, and that the peace of mind that comes over both of them when they’re together is worth fucking trying again.

When he opens the door, the look on Marco’s sleepless face and the way his hair is sticking up all crazy from missing Jean kind of clues him in that maybe he’s not the only one who feels the system already starting to settle toward harmony.

“Hi,” Jean gasps, leaning on his knees and wheezing to catch breath in his petrified lungs.

“J-Jean, why’re you so wet—”

“I love you,” Jean interrupts, still panting even as he straightens up to face Marco. “I love you, and I’m so fucking sorry that I’ve been such an asshole, and if you aren’t tired of me yet then I have a really complicated chemistry metaphor for why we should stay togethoomph—”

Marco reaches out and yanks Jean in by the dripping shirt, pushing him against the door to close it. He’s always had a certain distaste for Jean’s long-winded chemistry metaphors.

“I missed you,” Marco whispers, leaning their foreheads together as he brackets Jean against the door with his arms. His breath pants out warm against Jean’s chilled lips, just a hair’s width away from kissing, but his hesitance burns like fire between them. “God, Jean, I’m so sorry—”

Jean reaches up and tangles his fingers in Marco’s hair, damp skin catching on worried little knots, so different from the usual easy slide. His sighs mix with Marco’s as he apologizes, again and again, and they both murmur tense little ‘I love you’s and ‘I missed you’s until the sounds mingle and shake in time.

Leaning off the door, still keeping the cautious space between their lips, Jean whispers Marco’s name and guides them through the apartment, a path he’s long since memorized. Marco’s fingers are already working open the buttons on Jean’s soaked shirt. He squeezes his eyes shut and trusts Jean completely to walk him safely through their apartment, moving as slowly as they need to. Jean only takes his icy hands off of Marco’s face to shrug out of his shirt, dropping it carelessly behind them. Marco’s hands blaze over his shoulders, his chill-ridden arms as he pauses to rip off his waterlogged shoes and socks, before Jean’s leaning up against Marco again and resting his hands on his waist while trembling fingers slip down to work at the wet catch of his jeans.

The bedroom door is closed, so their heads bang together when Jean accidentally walks Marco into it. He gives a raspy swear, leaning up to press his lips gently, softly against Marco’s forehead in apology. His hand searches for the doorknob, the only unfamiliar object in their entire apartment, mostly because this door has never been closed before.

He realizes belatedly that, oh, this door has never been closed, and that the couch blankets had been in a disarrayed nest when he was pulled in.

Oh.

He trails his lips slowly down Marco’s brow, over the freckle that gets lost in Marco’s perfect smiles, across the constellations spread over the brunette’s cheek, before he whispers, “You slept on the couch?”

Marco’s breath catches, and his fingers still in their efforts to peel wet denim off clammy skin. He shivers against Jean, chills wrought by the understanding that he isn’t asking as much as he is stating. Of course Jean knows Marco slept on the couch.

Silence creeps through the dark hallway, broken only by a tiny sniff, before Marco nods against Jean and reaches to push his glasses up into his hair. Jean’s lips press against Marco’s cheek again, but the sudden taste of salt and the slip of water brings him away so he can look at him. Marco wipes quickly at the fresh tears dripping down his face, his breath hitching on barely-caught sobs and his bloodshot eyes squeezing shut against them.

Jean catches Marco’s hands and twines their fingers, nuzzling away Marco’s tears without a care for his own, and he hovers cautiously for a beat, and for another, pressed against him in the dark as he waits.

With a shuddering breath, Marco accepts Jean’s countless apologies, as Jean’s accepted his, and he closes the space between them with a soft brush of their shaking lips.

The kiss lasts a moment, then a minute, then a lifetime as Jean leans into Marco and breathes love into him, receiving in equal parts the taste of his tenderness returned. He frees one hand to rest gently on Marco’s face, thumb wiping at wet trails still lingering, and Marco’s arm wrapping warm around his waist brings them yet closer.

Whispered soft against his lips, Marco asks, “What brought you back?”

Jean blinks, then pulls back enough that he can look at Marco. Really look at him. Not like he never has before, or like he doesn’t have every expression Marco owns memorized, but in the seven days he hadn’t met gold-flecked hazel the world had seemed just a little darker. Sighing softly, Jean swallows and nuzzles his nose against Marco’s, wondering how exactly to phrase every bottomless thought he’s had since he realized why, exactly, he wasn’t getting over Marco.

They don’t need each other to function. Their relationship isn’t an investment or a goddamn time-share. It’s not like Jean couldn’t imagine a future without him, and it’s not like he couldn’t sleep without Marco’s soft snores lulling him there. Jean wasn’t getting over Marco purely because he didn’t want to.

He doesn’t want to live without Marco beside him. He doesn’t want to grow old without him. He doesn’t want anything but this, right here. The warmth of Marco’s chest against his, the even ladder of their laced knuckles, the steady thrum of their heartbeats drumming as one. He and Marco are at peaceful equilibrium together, the perfect balance of molecules that ebb and flow in functional efficiency both together and apart simultaneously.

Jean leans forward and kisses Marco again, just as gently as the last dozen, and he squeezes their twined fingers as he breathes a long sigh. Marco blinks, his long eyelashes still sticking together with cool tears, so Jean murmurs, “Wherever you are is where I want to be. It’s home. I wouldn’t be homeless without you, but the place I like best is wherever I can be next to you.” Marco’s trembling against him, biting back resurfacing tears, and Jean’s already crying too. His voice shakes as he whispers, “If it’s okay, can I come home?”

A tiny whimper escapes Marco as he nods, retrieving his hands to throw his arms around Jean's shoulders, letting himself cry into the blonde’s neck. Jean wraps his arms around Marco’s waist and holds him tightly, fumbling again for the doorknob, and by the time they’ve made the short stumble across the room to the bed they’re both somewhere between crying and laughing.

Marco moves his hands back to Jean's glued-on pants, leaning up into his kisses eagerly and shivering at the feel of the blonde’s clammy fingers against his tear-flushed cheeks. They manage the pants, by some grace from god and more than a little wriggling, and peeling off Jean's boxers and every piece of clothing Marco is still wearing for whatever reason comes significantly easier. Jean immediately rolls them into a blanket fort, pressing his still-chilled body into Marco’s welcoming embrace and grinning at the shiver that runs through them both.

When their lips come together this time, they don’t pull away, and they leave their tears outside of the safe little world they build around themselves.

The whispered love that twines like smoke with the quiet sounds of their hands relearning each other’s skin fills the air for hours, joined by gasping breaths and little moans met and surrounded by a thousand kisses, low sighs of each other’s names and gentle affirmations of love, and when the sun finally casts its waking rays through the shuttered blinds and lights golden the sweat between them just beginning to cool, soft murmurs lull them to sleep in the perfect harmony of their twin heartbeats.

“Welcome home,” Marco whispers against Jean’s temple, his nose buried in messy blonde hair and his hands laced easily with Jean’s, two halves ticking quietly to perfect equilibrium.

Chapter Text

The first thing Jean does when he opens the door to his apartment is let out a long, obnoxious groan of relief. Before he even puts his bag down, he’s already fumbling at the catch of his dumb business casual monkey suit slacks as he stumbles toward his and Marco’s bedroom.

Just as he starts to pull the zipper down, though, and midway down the hallway, Marco calls, “Internet’s out again.”

“Fuck, are you serious?” Jean comes to the doorway, staring horrified at his shirtless boyfriend, who’s reviewing some ancient-ass textbook cross-legged on their bed. Marco nods vacantly and pushes up his glasses. “Goddammit, and I had so much porn to watch, too.”

Marco smiles up at Jean, running a hand through his bangs as he does, unfazed by the tangentially-porn-related inside joke. “Bringing work home again?”

“Yeah,” Jean mumbles, collapsing face-first into the sheets next to Marco, who reaches down to card his fingers soothingly through messy blonde hair. “Gotta go to the Starbucks…”

“It’s that serious?”

“Pretty serious.” Sighing loudly, Jean turns his head and nuzzles against Marco’s thigh with a grump. “You wanna come?”

Marco laughs softly and closes his book before he looks down at his boyfriend. “I guess I can put pants on, since you look so piteous.”

The groan Jean lets out at that rivals the first in both volume and misery.

--

Moving into a new apartment when Marco started grad school this year had been nice, both in terms of size and noise-proofing, but they had apparently moved into some weird time-space rift where the internet exists only transiently and never when they need it. Luckily, philosophy isn’t a field that requires Marco to be on the internet constantly yet, but Jean has managed to go his entire education so far without ever having to leave cyberspace and he’s not about to start weaning now.

This means that the workers at the Starbucks around the corner know their miserable faces by heart now. Natch.

Jean sets up their tiny grad student kingdom at the usual table (the one in the corner that could safely seat six) while Marco acquires their jet fuel. By the time he comes back, Jean’s already got his face buried in his laptop, brow furrowed and fingers pinching at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he mumbles when Marco hands him his absurd triple-red-eye and kisses his still-messy hair, then slides over to his side of the kingdom to work.

The distinction between their disciplines is glaringly obvious at times. Jean has his laptop, his calculator (a dumb pink one, which is an extremely long story), and two notebooks arranged neatly, a setup as anally minimalist as his work space at school.

Marco’s side, however, is an explosion of musty yellowed texts, a multitude of notebooks, more post-its than could plausibly exist in one universe, seven different pens, an eraser for the pencil he doesn’t have, and pretty much no advanced technology. His phone makes brief appearances when it’s not being used as an expensive-ass bookmark.

Being a chemist has made Jean obsessively tidy, while being a philosopher has made Marco extremely good at the art of chaotic organization. Historically, moving Marco’s piles has resulted in friction, so they worked out some sort of compromise when he went back to school. Now, if Jean needs to tidy up, he just loudly narrates the entire process to his boyfriend, and if Marco doesn’t listen then he’s not allowed to get mad. It works well.

They work in comfortable quiet for a while, Marco’s chicken scratch writing sounds mirrored by Jean’s occasionally-frantic typing, both so used to the noisy coffee shop atmosphere around them that they barely even notice the bustle.

After a full day of working through the same text, though, Marco finds his mind wandering before Jean’s does, taking breaks to occasionally stare out the window at the freshly-crunchy leaves blowing down the street and the cars rolling by and whatever else the outside world consists of. Jean doesn’t notice, hunched over his laptop to an extreme and muttering something about stereoisomers under his breath.

Marco doodles on a post-it and watches Jean work for a while, his narrowed eyes flickering between documents and his hands moving around hastily, occasionally rustling through his notebooks to double-check some number or another. The air conditioning is making his contacts itch, though, if the way he keeps rubbing his eyes tells any tales.

“You should take your contacts out,” Marco suggests quietly, leaning his chin in his palm. He smiles when Jean blinks up at him out of the chemistry haze. “You’re rubbing your eyes a lot.”

“Oh,” Jean mumbles, looking around somewhat perplexedly, his head still in his work. He leans down into his bag and ruffles around in search of his glasses case. After a moment, he huffs and burrows deeper before he just makes a disgusted sound and slings his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

“Mmkay,” Marco hums, spinning his pen in his fingers and watching Jean go. Maybe definitely watching Jean go.

As much as Jean hates it, the monkey suit definitely does things for his lanky little body. Marco’s somewhere between sad that he wears it so rarely and glad for his boyfriend’s general comfort.

After a few minutes of staring blankly at his brightly color-coded notes, Marco finds focusing on Turing machines more and more difficult, while progressively lengthier admirations of Jean’s butt slip through the cracks in his attention. He sighs, balancing his pen between his lips and his nose, and wonders if Jean would object to heading home a little early.

Jean’s gone for a while, though, and the longer he’s gone, the more restless Marco gets, until he finally gives in and throws all of their crap into his ancient backpack, organization be damned. When he edges into the little single bathroom and locks the door behind himself, Jean’s mid-contact-removal, making a kind of hilarious face. Marco really can’t contain his giggles in time.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jean says, finally fishing the contact out and blinking rapidly. “Damn thing was cemented to my eyeball, definitely need eyedrops…”

“Mm, poor baby,” Marco laughs, setting his overfilled backpack on the counter and moving to wrap his arms around Jean’s waist while he puts his contact away. “So how’s your porn-watching?”

“Same old,” Jean replies as he caps the little case. “This class is going over stuff I haven’t thought about in years,” he continues, leaning back comfortably into Marco’s chest and closing his eyes.

Humming softly, Marco nuzzles into Jean’s ear. “I feel that. Didn’t imagine I’d ever have to think so hard about evil demons again, but here I am.”

“Dude, you love the evil demon.”

“It’s true.” With a content sigh, Marco trails kisses up Jean’s cheek, over his temple, wrapping his arms around Jean more securely as he does.

“You’re cuddly today,” Jean murmurs, leaning his head back onto Marco’s shoulder and peering up at him. “Miss me or something?”

“Always,” Marco says, smiling as he brushes his lips against Jean’s. “Plus you look cute today.”

“Says you.” Jean chuckles and reaches up to pull at a few of Marco’s cowlicks before he slides his hand into his hair and ruffles. Marco just kisses him again, humming happily when Jean runs his fingers through his hair to comb out the new knots. They kiss warmly, pressing closer together, and Marco may or may not open one eye to check out the pale arch of Jean’s throat in the mirror. He slides one hand up to pick open the first few buttons of Jean’s shirt to expose a fading mark tucked under his collarbone, one of several hickeys he’d left within the bounds of his boyfriend’s clothing last time he’d felt the urge.

Marco sighs and focuses again on Jean, slipping his tongue into their kiss, and he’s somewhat surprised when Jean makes a quiet sound and meets him eagerly. He’s more surprised by the way Jean presses his ass firmly into Marco’s lap, though.

“Hey there,” Marco whispers against Jean’s lips, sliding his fingers into the blonde’s shirt.

“Hey.” Jean grins and shifts back further, biting his lip coyly. Marco raises his eyebrows, flicking his tongue lightly over his boyfriend’s slowly-flushing lips. “So,” Jean says, turning around and hopping up onto the counter. He drags Marco closer and traps him between his legs before he continues. “I noticed you brought our stuff.”

“Please,” Marco laughs, lacing his fingers on the small of Jean’s back. “You’d cry if I left it alone out there while I came to harass you.”

“True,” Jean concedes, trailing his fingers slowly over Marco’s broad shoulders.

“But, I thought I might suggest calling early quits on study night while I’m in here.”

Jean feigns giving the idea thought, tapping a finger against his chin while his other hand dips lower and slides up Marco’s shirt, fingers curling over his warm hip. “I could possibly be convinced,” he says finally, pulling his boyfriend yet closer and nudging their noses together.

“Oh yeah?” Marco chuckles quietly and moves to draw warm kisses over Jean’s jaw, taking his sweet time doing so. “How’s that?”

“Bribery and blackmail, same as always,” Jean quips, shifting to wrap his arms around Marco’s neck as he tilts his head for his lips.

Humming softly, Marco drags his tongue up Jean’s ear and nibbles at his earlobe before he breathes, “I’ll make it worth your while.” He grins at the way his boyfriend shivers against him, pulling his shirt out of his pants so he can slip his warm hands up Jean’s back, successfully wringing another shiver out of him. “Be so good to you.”

“T-tempting,” Jean sighs, leaning back to catch Marco’s lips again, much more insistently this time. He whines when Marco fucks his tongue slowly into his mouth, melting into him and clinging tighter. Despite having been on quite the topping streak lately, Jean finds himself wrapped around his boyfriend’s finger easily and more than eager to hand over the proverbial reins.

Perhaps a little too eager. Marco pulls one hand out of Jean’s shirt and palms at his boyfriend’s already-hard cock, grinning at the way his slacks show off his enthusiasm. The loose cut does nothing to hide Jean’s hardons, at least not the way his usual pants mask them. Another point in favor of the monkey suit. “Only tempting?” Marco laughs, rubbing teasingly and watching Jean squirm on the sink.

“F-fuck, Marco,” Jean whispers, leaning up to flick his tongue between Marco’s lips. “Door locked?”

Marco turns and checks, being as Jean’s essentially blind without his contacts or glasses, and nods his assent. He blinks, though, and quirks an eyebrow. “We do live around the corner, you know.”

Grousing noisily, Jean shifts on the counter so his bony ass isn’t half in the sink, the movement pressing his dick into Marco’s welcoming hand. “Can’t just wander out like this,” he says, shifting his hips up a few more times just because.

“Here, though?” As much as he’s ribbing his boyfriend, Marco has yet to stop palming his dick, and he’s certainly not stopping the hand now sliding firmly up Jean’s stomach, thick fingers spread wide over pale skin under his now-rumpled shirt. The blonde follows his unintentional guiding and leans back against the mirror, biting his lip again as he gives Marco a wide smile, cheeks already flushed warm with arousal.

“Don’t you like stuff like that?” Jean replies, his voice pitched low and raspy. He gasps and wriggles slightly when Marco squeezes his cock before he slides his fingers up to work Jean’s belt open.

“We could be home in, like, two minutes,” Marco says, his already-feeble fake protests further losing strength when he pulls both hands to the task of undoing his boyfriend’s pants after taking care of his belt.

“Or we could be fucking in two minutes.”

Marco’s breath hitches before he grins. “Point. Mm, what if someone needs to use the bathroom?”

“There’s another one.” Jean licks his lips and watches Marco pull his zipper down. The major downside to the monkey suit is that Jean feels compelled to wear boxers, where normally he’s too damn free-spirited or whatever.

“Gotta keep your voice down.”

“I’ll m-manage.”

Blinking slowly, Marco tugs Jean’s boxers down and pulls out his flushed, hard cock. “Pent up, huh,” he breathes, leaning forward for a quick kiss. “Mm, what about condoms? Lube?”

Jean laughs quietly and runs a hand through his on-end hair, jerking his chin toward his bag. “Still got some from the fuckin’… thing a while back.”

Marco pauses, then slaps his free hand over his face. “Hitch’s engagement party? That was months ago, babe.”

“Never took it out,” Jean replies with a shrug and a wide grin. “Besides, I knew it’d come in handy. Tired of having to deal with blue balls.”

Smiling warmly, Marco gives Jean a nice, slow stroke and nibbles on his bitten lips, drinking in his sweet gasp at the feeling. “Really wanna fuck in the Starbucks bathroom, love?”

Jean nods, sticking his tongue out playfully and resting one hand on Marco’s wrist. “Basically halfway there already. ‘Sides, you started it, and the guy like just cleaned it.”

“Fair enough,” Marco hums, kissing Jean deeply to muffle the little noises the blonde makes when he starts jacking him off, his rhythm even and promising. “Which pocket?”

“F-front,” Jean stammers, licking his lips as he reaches up to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way. Marco glances over at Jean’s bag, then thinks better of it as he leans down and wraps his lips around the slick head of Jean’s cock. “Fuck, Marco—mnh—” Jean lets his head fall back against the mirror and closes his eyes, his breath panting out shaky and quiet as he spreads his legs and arches up into his boyfriend’s damn perfect mouth.

Marco hums around Jean, relishing the little wiggle the sensation elicits, before he hollows his cheeks and bobs his head deep. Tangling his fingers into soft black hair, Jean whimpers and bites his lips and lets Marco have his way until he remembers with a slight jolt where they are.

“B-babe, gotta be quick, y-yeah?” Jean barely chokes back a moan when Marco responds by swallowing his cock and humming again, his gaze flicking playful up to Jean’s darkly-flushed face. “S-someone might’ve seen—”

Taking his sweet time, Marco sucks off of Jean’s cock, flicking his tongue teasingly over the head before he lets him slide out of his mouth. Jean pulls him up insistently and breathes a little moan into another kiss, holding him close until Marco leans away with a soothing murmur to dig in the half-zipped front pocket of the bag.

He finds a condom first and holds it out to Jean, laughing when the blonde takes it gently between his teeth, his hands otherwise occupied undoing Marco’s tight pants and easing him out of his boxers with a few good strokes. Marco somehow manages to focus on finding the little bottle, even when Jean runs his fingers along his foreskin just so, although when he pulls his hands away Marco can’t help but twitch his hips after him.

As he finally digs out the lube and slicks his fingers, Marco watches Jean helpfully wiggle his pants down around his thighs, grinning around the condom still dangling from his teeth.

“Quick, huh,” Marco mumbles, easing Jean’s knees up against his chest so he can slide his hand between them and rub slippery fingers over his entrance. The blonde nods, eyes shuttering closed and thighs spreading for Marco as much as they can with his pants still in the way, and when Marco gently works a finger into him, Jean melts against the mirror with a low moan. Marco licks his lips and eyes his boyfriend up, thrusting slowly as he waits for him to relax, rewarding him when he does with a second finger and firm, circling presses over his prostate.

“M-Marco,” Jean manages before his mouth falls open on a soft gasp, the condom dropping onto his tense stomach. “Mmh, c’mon, love,” he sighs, rocking his hips into the rhythm of his boyfriend’s fingers.

“So impatient,” Marco replies as he spreads his fingers, his movements steady and patient until he can slide a third finger in. “You want it that bad?”

Jean bites his lip and nods, his thighs shaking against his chest, his breath heavy with barely-restrained moans. With the face he’s making, Marco’s starting to feel his self-control slipping, his gaze burning a hot trail over his boyfriend’s gorgeous body. Squirming slightly, his cheeks flushing darker under the intensity of Marco’s eyes, Jean rasps, “’M g-good, babe, good...”

“Hold on a little, ‘s been a while,” Marco murmurs, focusing less on teasing Jean and more on easing him open enough to take him. He smiles at Jean when the blonde huffs and wiggles, his hands moving to shove his pants down until they’re hanging off one leg and he can wrap his thighs around Marco’s hips.

“Marco, come on,” Jean gasps, spreading himself open for his boyfriend and lacing his fingers behind Marco’s neck, rocking his hips back more urgently now. “S-someone’s gonna catch us.”

Finally, Marco obliges, gently pulling his fingers out and ripping the condom open with his teeth, but he can’t ignore the slow drip of precome that trails between Jean’s cock and his stomach when he mentions again the danger of getting caught. As he’s rolling the condom on and spreading more lube over it, Marco licks his lips and pins Jean with a near predatory look, the blonde flushing clear down onto his chest as he squirms under it.

“I think you like that idea,” Marco breathes, adjusting Jean’s hips and holding them tight in his slick fingers. He nudges the head of his cock against Jean’s entrance, eating up the way his boyfriend shivers and pants, trying to rock back onto him despite the grip keeping him still. Marco teases him with slow, insufficient presses, flicking his eyes between the (securely locked) door and Jean’s desperate expression. He gives him a wide, lazy grin, biting his lip and looking Jean over again, and as he slides the barest inch into Jean, just enough to have him whining, Marco leans forward and whispers, “’S it exciting? You’re in here begging for my cock so perfectly and no one outside knows a thing… ‘course, if you don’t keep it down, every one of those people will know how good you are for me.”

Jean’s teeth savage his lip as he tries to take more of Marco’s cock, his eyes squeezed shut and his fingers fisted in the brunette’s shirt, his panting breaths coming quicker the more he wiggles and arches. “B-baby, please,” he chokes out, trying to resist Marco’s teasing and his fucking perfect words. “M-more, please, f-fuck me?”

Breathing a low moan, Marco rocks his hips into Jean’s, watching his restraint falter the more he slides into him. He grinds into his boyfriend wickedly slow when he bottoms out, deliberately playing against his urgency. Before he continues, Marco brushes his lips softly against Jean’s cheek, murmuring, “That okay, baby?” Jean nods rapidly, sucking on his lips and clinging tightly to Marco. “You’re s-so good, Jean, look so good with my dick buried in you in the damn Starbucks. Couldn’t even wait to get home, wanted to get filled up so bad, huh?” Marco gives a raspy laugh, nibbling at Jean’s ear as he finally, finally pulls back and gives Jean a good, deep thrust, keeping it slow still because the way it has his boyfriend shaking and tightening is fucking intoxicating.

Jean’s knees hitch up further around Marco’s waist, unable to keep himself from trying to arch back for more, still biting his lips to quiet his growing desperation. He lets Marco nudge his head aside and drag his tongue achingly slow up his pale neck, until he’s breathing a soft moan right against Jean’s ear and thrusting into him again.

“Damn, f-feels amazing, Jean,” Marco manages, his voice gruff from arousal. Jean’s not the only one coming close to losing their cool. He rocks into him, deep, even thrusts promising so much more, but not until Marco’s teased him near out of his brain. Jean scrapes his nails down the nape of Marco’s neck, jumping and gasping when his boyfriend whispers into his ear again. “M-missed being inside you, gotta say. Love the way you moan for me, how you beg me for more… g-gonna beg for me, love?”

“M-Marco—” Jean cuts himself off with a short whimper, quick to bury the sound against Marco’s shoulder. He pants into Marco’s shirt and clutches desperately at him, trying to coax him into moving faster with his shaking thighs. “Marco, ah…”

“You want more, baby?” Marco grinds hard into him, giving him a few quick, rough thrusts before he slows down again, the feeling enough to have Jean moaning and quaking for it, his hand fisting tight in dark hair. “Want me to fuck you? Make you scream my name so everyone out there knows who’s makin’ you feel good?”

“Fuck, Marco,” Jean gasps, pulling out of Marco’s shoulder and kissing him messy and needy. “Please, please, like that like that—”

Marco grins. Just a moment longer, Jean’s frantic little noises are lighting a fire in his blood. “Like this?” He rolls his hips slowly into him, his thrusts deep and so far from enough. Jean’s shaking his head, pleading whispers pressed against him in sloppy little kisses, his hands urging and pulling at Marco. “Or like this,” Marco whispers as he rams his cock into Jean once, twice, before he’s grinding again and swallowing Jean’s increasingly louder pleas.

“You’re so good,” Marco groans, gently pressing Jean back against the mirror and pinning his hips down to the counter again. “So good for me, Jean,” and that’s all he has the self-control for, because he’s fucking pounding his cock into his sweet boyfriend and this time he isn’t teasing him. Jean tightens around him, back arching, cock dripping, before he slaps both hands over his mouth and gives himself over to Marco.

He pulls back enough to watch the mess he’s making of Jean with his cock, slamming into him and fucking thick spurts of precome out of him and struggling with his own noisy moans at the picture his boyfriend makes. Jean’s whining, boneless against the mirror, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows drawn and thighs spread wide and bent back to give Marco all the room he needs to keep fucking him so good, so rough and perfect, his thick cock sliding perfect in his tight, tight heat and filling him up and leaving him brainless.

“F-fuck, Jean,” Marco moans, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment as he drives his cock into Jean. He gasps near-silent praises, grateful now for the loud-ass hipster music hopefully covering the wet slap of their hips and Jean’s muffled cries. “’S t-that feel good, love? D’you l-like it?” Jean nods, peering blearily up at Marco as he arches and trembles, his eyes near crossing when Marco somehow finds it in him to fuck Jean harder. “So tight, baby, ohfuck f-feels amazing—J-Jean, ‘s t-too good, c-can’t—”

Jean whimpers and frees one hand to palm at his soaked cock, pressing it against his tense stomach and spreading yet more thick precome over his sweat-slick skin, and when the one hand still pressed over his mouth is insufficient to keep him quiet, he dazedly blows Marco’s mind and fucking slides two fingers into his mouth. Marco barely swallows a gasping moan at that, his mouth dropping open again with his heavy pants, and watching Jean hollow his cheeks around his fingers and drag his other thumb through his soaked slit with a muffled sound is too fucking much.

Growling and moving his hands to bend Jean further in half, Marco rails his cock deep into his boyfriend and lets him slide off the counter enough that the angle lets him fuck Jean just right, just rough and possessing enough and full enough and good enough that Jean’s eyes roll closed and his ass tightens impossibly further around Marco and his body shakes and his fingers only barely quiet the noisy cries he gives as he comes messily into his tight fist. Marco gasps, a short moan escaping unhindered before he lets go and fucks them both through their fucking incredible orgasms, his vision going hazier the longer he rams his cock into his perfect, amazing boyfriend.

When Marco’s finally had enough and lets his hips come to a shaky stop, Jean’s still bent in half and balanced precariously, come dripping between his fingers and onto his stomach, every muscle twitching and tensing as he comes down. Marco’s not ready to pull out yet, but Jean’s in danger of toppling off the sink, even with his saliva-slick fingers gripping Marco’s bicep weakly.

“G-god, Jean,” Marco manages, leaning down to catch Jean’s lips near-reverently and kissing him until they’ve both stopped shaking quite so badly. “God, love, you’re ‘mazing…”

“D-damn, Marco…” Jean sucks gently at Marco’s lower lip, his breath still uneven. He hisses slightly as Marco pulls out, already feeling a slight ache, before he clings to his boyfriend and lets himself be eased off the counter and arranged on his jellied legs. Marco holds him and kisses him lovingly while he gets his sea legs back, hands warm and patient and incredibly tender as they move over him. After a long few minutes, Jean realizes that he’s pressed right against Marco, meaning—“Wait, b-babe—”

Yup. Marco grimaces at the jizz now smeared across his shirt from Jean’s stomach, while the blonde finds himself helpless with giggles.

They get cleaned up and steal a spare trash bag to take the evidence with them, not-so-cleverly tied off and hidden in Jean’s nearly-empty bag, and Jean stretches and yawns while Marco has a minor guilt crisis and Lysol-wipes the bejeezus out of the counter and the sink and the mirror.

Luckily, no one seems to notice when they suspiciously roll out of the bathroom together, and they scuttle home and laugh giddily and swear to probably not tell any of their friends about the time they fucked in a Starbucks bathroom.

Chapter Text

Let the record show that there is one time in recorded history that Marco got way drunker than Jean, and that was June 16^th, 2010. Let the record also show that jello shots are apparently Marco’s kryptonite.

--

“Whoa, hey, o-okay—nope, guess not—”

“Jean, I love you.”

“I know, darling.”

“Nono, like.” A brief pause, a hiccup. “Like I really really love you.”

“Yes, Marco, I love you too. Watch thestep—!”

“Ow. Can we go to 7-11?”

“For what, exactly?”

“I need a Ring-Pop.”

Jean braces Marco against the wall beside the door to the house they share with their friends, digging out his keys with a bemused smile. “Babe, why do you need a Ring-Pop at one in the morning?”

Marco blinks at Jean, leaning dangerously forward. When he topples, Jean steps closer and catches his (extremely drunk) boyfriend, still fiddling with the keys, and he laughs softly at the way Marco just kind of melts against his chest and wraps around him. He manages to unlock the door, gently nudging Marco until they’re at least mostly in the house so he can close the door.

“I need a Ring-Pop,” Marco repeats, his breath hot over Jean’s ear. Jean smiles and wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. Marco may not notice, but Jean is fully aware of the way Marco’s pressed against him, and he definitely notices the way the brunette’s rocking his hips idly against Jean’s as he sways.

Before they even hit the stairs, Marco’s personal gravity apparently gives a spectacular rumpus, because he sways heavily, knocks them both off balance, then crashes back against the wall with Jean in tow, squeaking at the impact. He’s already laughing when they settle, hands fisted in the blonde’s shirt. Jean lets Marco cling to him while his world stops spinning, bracing his forearms against the wall and nuzzling his nose against his boyfriend’s. “You alright there, love?”

“Mhm.” Marco grins and winds his arms around Jean’s waist, bringing them yet closer.

Smiling widely, Jean leans forward and kisses Marco warmly, giving a content hum when Marco’s warm hands slide slowly over his cheeks. They’re alone in the house for now, so they use the time gladly to make out for a good while, until Marco’s swaying hips inspire Jean to pull away with another few light kisses and whisper, “C’mon, babe, let’s go upstairs.”

“Mmkay.” Marco wobbles, but he lets Jean shift them more, and to their credit they make it halfway up the stairs before gravity has its say again, leaving Jean pinned to the bannister and Marco laughing into his ear.

“Hey now, birthday boy,” the blonde chuckles, running his hands over Marco’s sides. “Let’s not fall down the stairs, yeah?”

“That would be bad.”

“Yep. ‘Sides, I haven’t even given you the rest of your present yet.”

Marco blinks widely, leaning back a little, before he laughs and bites his lip. “You mean there’s more? You spoil me.” He leans back too far then, stumbling back against the wall and taking Jean with him, wheezing when they crash together again.

“Oof, jeez,” Jean mumbles, grinning at Marco as he adjusts them together more comfortably. “Careful, love.”

“So what’s the other half?” Marco wraps himself around Jean again, rubbing against his hip.

“Birthday sex, you nerd.” Laughing softly, Jean pulls back to watch Marco’s wiggling hips, raising his eyebrows at Marco’s half-chub. “Speaking of, what’re you doing down here?”

“Feels nice,” Marco sighs, licking his lips as he closes his eyes. “Mm, I like birthday sex…”

“Who doesn’t?” Jean leans forward and nips at Marco’s lips, rubbing his thumbs over his boyfriend’s lazily-shifting hip bones. “C’mon, let’s get to our room, then you can rub your dick on whatever you want.”

Contemplating that for a moment, Marco runs his fingers through Jean’s hair, then asks, “Will you ride me?”

Jean laughs, stealing a soft kiss with a nod, at which Marco makes several happy sounds. It’s stupidly cute. “I’ll do whatever you want, babe, but we gotta get upstairs first.”

Huffing loudly, Marco blinks at Jean, then looks at the remaining stairs yet unconquered with a piteous groan. “’S far.”

“It’s not, you baby. C’mon.”

Marco grouses, pouting at his giggling boyfriend before he grabs Jean’s hand and presses it right against his half-hard cock through his pants. “Just—just keep that there. This is fine.” Marco licks his lips again and starts rocking into Jean’s palm, breathing a low sigh.

“You’re—babe.” Jean laughs, squeezing Marco through his jeans as he leans forward to whisper in his ear. “You’d rather me rub you off in your pants on the stairs than ride you nice and slow in our warm, cozy bed?” He squeezes again, palming his cock in time to Marco’s uneven thrusts, the combination of the feeling and his soft words making the brunette shiver. “You’re telling me you don’t wanna watch me sit on your fat cock and moan for you?”

“Nooo,” Marco moans, pressing harder into his boyfriend’s hand. “Nooo, I want that. I like it when you do that.”

“Then come on, love,” Jean says, biting gently up Marco’s ear. “It’s like twenty feet.”

“That’s so far.” Marco turns and squints at Jean, arching into his now-firm grip. “Right here.”

“Are you—you’re kidding.” Grinning at his flushed, swaying boyfriend, Jean gives him a warm kiss. “Babe, I’m not gonna ride you on the stairs.”

The extent to which Marco sticks his lip out is genuinely impressive. Jean raises his eyebrows, and Marco whines, “It’s my birthday.”

Jean buries his laughter in Marco’s shoulder, his own shaking from giggles even as he slides his fingers along Marco’s now-hard cock through his tented jeans. Marco grumbles and undoes his pants, grabbing Jean’s wrist and unceremoniously shoving the blonde’s hand into his boxers. He hums as Jean wraps warm fingers around him, toying gently with his foreskin just to make him melt a little.

“Baby, what if someone comes home?”

Marco sniffs, thrusting into Jean’s grip slowly. “It’s my birthday,” he repeats firmly, as if that’s the end-all-be-all answer to the world’s problems.

“Lube? Condom?”

“Ughhh.” Marco replies, sliding down the wall slightly. “Can you go get them? I’ll never make it alive.”

Jean strokes his boyfriend firmly for a moment, watching him squirm and sigh, before he laughs again and catches Marco’s lips in a quick, dirty kiss. “You really are spoiled, huh.” The way Marco loops his arms around Jean’s neck and grins widely gives him away, as much a confirmation of his spoiled-ness as the weak nod he gives. “Since it’s your birthday,” Jean murmurs, sucking on Marco’s lower lip, “I guess I can make this happen for you.”

“So good to me,” Marco sighs, tugging Jean back into a deep, heated kiss and breathing soft moans against his boyfriend as he rolls his hips forward. Jean pulls away though, grinning and laughing, and he helps Marco slide down until he’s sitting on the stair before he jogs up to their room.

‘hey uh don’t come home for like half hour ok,’ Jean taps out in a text to Connie, the designated drunk-wrangler for the household. He stuffs his phone back into his pocket and digs around for the lube and some condoms. Unsurprisingly, Connie texts him back fairly quickly as he’s kicking his shoes off.

‘oh my god what part of my house will i never feel welcome in again’

‘listen aight i’m still not over the time i found you and sasha in the goddamn kitchen before i’d even had coffee’

‘hah oh yeah that was awesome’

Jean rolls his eyes loudly and stuffs a condom between his teeth, unbuttoning his pants and slicking his fingers as he comes back down to stand over his dopily-smiling lover.

“Jean, you look really cute,” Marco hums, lacing his fingers in his lap innocently. The image is rather ruined by the giant boner straining his boxers. Jean grimaces and slides his hand down the back of his pants, dropping the condom onto Marco’s lap. “Still cute.”

He’ll never admit it, but Jean flushes at Marco’s candor, focusing instead on sliding slick fingers inside himself. Truth be told, he’d already given Marco plenty of birthday sex today, so it’s a relatively easier slide than usual to bury his fingers inside himself. He watches Marco wiggle his own pants down just enough and roll the condom on, taking the lube as it’s offered to slick the condom further.

“You really wanna do this on the stairs?” Jean pulls his fingers out and wipes them on his pants, coming down to stand in front of Marco as the brunette shifts to face him, still smiling peacefully.

“I have a fun idea,” Marco replies, pulling his shirt off and tossing it off the stairs. Jean hauls his off as well, draping it over the banister rather than adding to the mess downstairs, before he comes to kneel between Marco’s legs and kisses him lovingly.

“Oh yeah? Do tell.”

Marco nods, gesturing to his lap. “You sit facing me, and then lean back on my thighs, and then I fuck you.”

Jean raises his eyebrows, resting his elbows on Marco’s knees before scratching his head. “Sounds kinda dangerous, yeah?”

Smiling reassuringly, Marco leans forward again and tilts Jean’s chin up for a soft kiss, his free hand resting over one of Jean’s. “I won’t let you fall, baby. ‘M not that drunk anymore, anyway.”

“Oh-ho,” Jean laughs, flicking his tongue between Marco’s lips. “You playing the drunk just to get me to carry you halfway up the stairs, huh?”

“I mean, I’m still kinda drunk,” Marco concedes with a sheepish grin, nuzzling Jean. “But I’m sitting down, so. Aaand I maybe hammed it up ‘cause I’ve really wanted to fuck you on the stairs for like four months.”

“Damn, don’t gotta hide it,” Jean replies, scooting closer and kissing his boyfriend again, cheeks flushed warm. “If you wanna fuck me on the stairs, just fuck me on the stairs. Shit, you could fuck me on the damn roof if you wanted to, you know I’m up for it.”

“Noted.” Marco slides his hands down Jean’s bare chest slowly, slipping his tongue along Jean’s as he eases the blonde’s pants over his ass and down his thighs. Jean purrs, relishing the feeling of Marco’s hands running over him so tenderly, before he pulls his pants the rest of the way off and chucks them up onto the landing.

He breaks the kiss to crawl up into Marco’s lap, the stairs creaking noisily under them, and he sighs when Marco run his hands firmly up his widely-spread thighs as they kiss again.  Lifting up slowly, he waits for Marco to steady himself under him, then sinks down onto his boyfriend’s cock with a long, low moan. The brunette gasps softly at the feeling, slipping his arms around Jean’s thin waist, and he waits patiently until Jean’s seated in his lap and wrapped so hot and perfect around his cock to draw warm, open-mouthed kisses up his bony chest.

The position presses their chests tightly together, Jean’s arousal almost squished between their stomachs, given that Marco has no room to lean back and give his boyfriend space. He braces his feet on the stairs and runs his hands soothingly over Jean, using the proximity to memorize familiar skin and press kisses to places well-loved. Jean shifts in his lap, tugging Marco’s hair until he’s looking up at him so they can kiss again, wrapped close together and around each other.

Quiet settles between them for the moment, drawing out the spaces between their breaths to stay pressed together, sweet whispers escaping between gentle kisses, soft laughs at murmured nothings filling the air for just a moment longer.

“I love you, Jean,” Marco hums, smiling against his boyfriend’s lips. His palms slide warm and wide up Jean’s pale back, over his shoulder blades, around onto his chest before he presses gently, easing Jean back until he’s lying along Marco’s long thighs and admittedly looking slightly nervous. He braces his hands on the stair under him, thighs trembling a little until Marco guides him into wrapping his legs around his chest and resting them on the stair behind him. Jean squeezes Marco’s ribs gently with his knees, wrapped strong around him.

“My hands are gonna fall asleep so fast,” Jean laughs shakily, scooting deep into Marco’s lap with a soft exhale. “Have you been reading Cosmo again?”

Marco shakes his head, tucking Jean’s thighs firmly under his arms and resting his hands soothingly on his hips. “Saw it in some porn you left up a while back.”

“What?” Jean shifts slightly, Marco adjusting his knees more comfortably under Jean’s shoulders and supporting his weight. “Gotta stop only watching half of those things.”

“All the good stuff’s at the end.” Marco hums and runs his hands over Jean again, making sure to stay steady where he’s holding his boyfriend safely in his lap. “You okay?”

Tightening his legs’ grip around Marco, Jean swallows, then nods, flicking his gaze hesitantly up to his boyfriend. After a moment, he lifts one hand carefully to Marco’s calf, rubbing gently with his thumb. “I know you’ve got me.”

“Always,” Marco murmurs, slipping one hand down to wrap around Jean’s flagging arousal. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, you know, babe,” he says quietly, smiling as he does so Jean has no room to doubt. “Can always go to our room and bend you over whatever we didn’t get this morning.”

Jean swallows again, honestly contemplating the offer, before he shifts further onto Marco’s cock with a sigh. “I will admit that I’m a little freaked out,” he starts, and before Marco can open his mouth to suggest moving, Jean continues, “But, your dick is kinda poking me at a really interesting angle, and I’d be cheating myself if I didn’t explore that just a little.”

Raising his eyebrows, Marco glances down at their positioning again and blinks. He realizes that, yeah, this position actually gives him a pretty rad angle for hitting Jean’s sweet spot in a way they’ve never really touched on before. He licks his lips, then strokes Jean slowly and looks back up at him. “D’you wanna?”

“I do, y-yeah.” Jean sucks on his lips, rocking into Marco’s firm grip. “C-can you move, or should I?”

“Which do you want?” Jean stays quiet, peering up at Marco. “You want me to move?” A small nod. Marco smiles widely, running his thumb soothingly over Jean’s hip before he wraps his free hand around Jean’s thigh, pins it against his chest, and holds him tightly in place. “Let me know if you wanna stop, yeah?”

“D-duh.”

Marco makes a soft, pleading sound, wishing he could kiss Jean somewhere. He just squeezes his thigh warmly, running his thumb over the head of Jean’s slowly-hardening cock, and stares at him until Jean huffs and nods, mumbling a low promise to keep Marco in line.

With a parting squeeze to his dick, Marco moves his hand to wrap around Jean’s other thigh, securing it against his chest as well. Normally, he’d spread his legs to give himself leverage to thrust harder into Jean, but he furrows his brow in concentration and makes a note to keep his knees stable against Jean’s shoulder blades instead. For now, he starts small, rocking his hips up into Jean’s with the tiniest of movements and keeping his eyes trained on his flushed face.

The blonde shivers in his lap, half-hard cock giving an interested twitch, and he moves his hand back to the stair to support his weight. After a few minute thrusts, he starts moving his hips back into Marco’s with tiny whimpers, until he lets out a shaky breath and a low curse and starts moving more bravely onto his boyfriend.

Marco lets Jean take the reins, holding him securely and watching him squirm in his lap with a soft moan. Jean looks great spread across him like this, rocking down onto him and twitching at the feeling, letting Marco’s cock fill him up and move inside of him. He feels Jean starting to relax, letting Marco take more of his weight so he can move more, eyes still closed as he does.

Jean hums quietly and tests Marco’s knees, finding them secure, before he uses his support to lift his hips up further. As he slides back down, his head drops back with a breathy moan, stomach tensing and thighs twitching, and Marco bites his lip and holds Jean tight even as his eyelids flutter from the feeling of his boyfriend tightening around him.

They’d been right; the angle’s impressively good, and Jean thinks somehow that the precariousness of the way they’re perched might be adding to the sensation. His nerves are on fire, his ass squeezing Marco’s cock, every sensation amplified in the adrenaline of their position, and it’s not long before he’s riding Marco in short, deep thrusts and whimpering for him, every muscle tight and shaking. Marco’s cock is fucking jammed against his sweet spot like he’s never felt, thick and hot inside of him, and he can’t help but whine Marco’s name as he speeds up and shifts to curl his toes over the lip of the next stair he can reach.

Giving up his secure grip around Marco’s chest makes him nervous, but the brunette’s jeans prevent him from slipping, even if he’s sweating fucking bullets, and the new leverage lets him pull up farther and drop further onto Marco’s cock.

“B-babe,” Jean gasps, tilting his head back with a loud moan. “F-fuck, fuck Marco—”

“F-feel good, love?” Marco whispers, adjusting his grip to Jean’s positioning, always keeping him close and steady. He tries riding up gently into Jean’s thrusts, careful not to dislodge him, and the feeling leaves Jean near boneless in his lap and shivering.

“’S good, ‘s g-good—M-Marco, right there—”

“Jean, f-fuck… l-looks amazing, god…”

Jean moves harder, panting and keening at the sensation, and the way the blunt head of Marco’s cock drives up into him has him shaking, his cock achingly hard now and dripping precome onto his tense stomach. He’s wetter than usual, something between the way he’s basically getting a prostate massage and the heart-pounding position leaving him sloppy with precome. Marco moans for him, desperate to put his hands on him but keeping his warm grip tight on Jean’s thighs, and instead rocks his cock up deeper. Jean cries out, arching slightly.

“M-Marco, f-fuck, think ‘m gonna come—”

“’S okay, baby,” Marco gasps, licking his dry lips. “Wanna come back up?”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Jean mumbles, reaching one trembling hand out to his boyfriend. Marco lets go of one thigh to ease Jean upright and against his chest, letting him pull his legs back down to rest his knees on the stair on either side of his hips, and Jean doesn’t have to tell Marco to scoot forward so they can both have room.

Once they’ve adjusted, Jean wraps his arms around Marco’s neck and kisses him desperately, shakily fucking himself quick and deep on his boyfriend and gasping into his mouth. Marco moans against him, gripping his hips and holding him still as he spreads his thighs, whispers soothing praises against Jean, then uses what leverage he has to pound his cock up into his whimpering boyfriend. Rewarding and thanking Jean’s bravery, Marco fucks him hard and fast and perfect, thrusting his tongue into the blonde’s mouth, swallowing his noisy moans gladly. Jean presses tighter against him, arching his back for Marco’s rough thrusts, sounds growing louder and louder until he’s tightening and shaking and crying out for him. Marco leans into Jean’s neck and bites at his collarbone, dragging wet kisses over his throat, and Jean buries his face in dark hair and whimpers his boyfriend’s name over and over.

When he finally comes, he rocks down into Marco’s thrusts, his back arching and his head falling back, and Marco’s strong arms wrap tight around him and hold him safely against his chest as Jean falls over the edge with a keening sob.

He comes fucking all over them both, sensitive from the way Marco’s cock had been hitting him earlier, and his boyfriend’s long, shaky moan and breathless gasps of his name as he comes inside him only serve to push Jean higher.

As he comes to, Jean realizes that he’s probably got some nice rugburn on his knees, and that he’s never held the splits quite this long, but neither of those quite pierce the bulletproof orgasm high he’s got going. Marco’s kissing along his shoulder, holding him close with his steady arms, and Jean whines as he melts against him and shivers.

“Thank you, love,” Marco murmurs, for what Jean figures is probably the thousandth time.

“N-never again,” Jean laughs quietly, nudging Marco until they can kiss again, warm and gentle and reassuring until both of them have stopped twitching. Marco agrees, thankfully, mumbling that he’d more than gotten the urge out.

Marco, now something like stone-sober from the adrenaline and the endorphins, helps Jean stand on shaky legs and carefully slides out from under him, and thankfully he doesn’t have to ask more than once this time before Jean agrees to let Marco carry him to their bedroom.

Even after they’re curled up safely in their nice warm bed, cleaned up and only kinda sweaty, Jean wraps around Marco and laughs and half-jokingly swears revenge for Marco’s extremely brief dangerous sex kink.

Marco just groans and accepts his fate, given that he’s not actually all that opposed to finding out further what Jean is capable of.

Chapter Text

The apartment is cold. Jean figures this out when he wakes up shivering at some absurd hour of the morning, early grey light still dim where it fades through the curtains.

He runs a cool hand across his bleary eyes and rolls over to wrap himself around his toasty boyfriend, nuzzling between his shoulder blades as he burrows into him and further under the blankets. How had he managed to stay asleep this long without leeching Marco’s heat?

Pressing himself closer, Jean tosses his arm over Marco’s waist and pulls him tighter against his chest. The warmth radiating off of Marco spreads through Jean’s bare chest and brings a content sigh out of him. Happy again.

Marco shifts against him with a faint, sleepy hum, then rolls onto his back and sighs. He’s not awake yet, not by any stretch, and Jean knows that if he keeps quiet, Marco’ll be out cold again in around four seconds.

Now that Jean’s taken care of the whole ‘cold’ issue, though, he’s left with the pressing matter of some pretty fearsome morning wood.

He wriggles closer and lays his head on Marco’s shoulder, tossing his leg over his thighs as the brunette adjusts to him and wraps his arm around his neck. He’s still not quite awake, even as he pulls Jean close enough that he can brush a soft kiss into sleep-mussed blonde hair.

When Jean takes the liberty of slowly rubbing his arousal against Marco’s hip, he wakes further, now conscious enough to crack an eye and peer down at his boyfriend.

“Hey.”

“Mmph.”

Not awake enough. Waking Marco up is a deceptively difficult task, and he is by no stretch of the imagination a morning person. Jean turns his head to kiss idly along Marco’s chest, rocking his hips against him again.

“You’re up,” Marco slurs, voice husky yet with sleep. Jean nods, his hand moving to rub slowly over his boyfriend’s broad chest, trailing his fingers down over his stomach. Marco shifts again, more awake now, and he rolls to face Jean with a little sniff.

Almost there. Jean lets him burrow his face against his neck, Marco’s free hand coming to slide lazily up Jean’s narrow hip. He smiles softly and runs his palm down Marco’s back with a content hum. Almost there. Shifting his leg over his hip and wrapping him closer, Jean rolls his cock right against Marco’s, which is already more than stirring as he gains hazy consciousness.

Marco pulls Jean tighter and gives a hitched breath at the contact between them. He spreads his fingers over the small of Jean’s back, wide and warm, and when he starts kissing slowly up Jean’s neck, the blonde knows he’s got his victory. Achievement get: one mostly-conscious, half-hard boyfriend. Excellent.

“How’s it going?” Jean laughs, before he tightens his thigh around Marco, shivering again. Not from cold, though. This time, it’s in appreciation of the way Marco’s hand slides smoothly down his back, over the swell of his ass, and when he slips his fingers down over Jean’s entrance, he lets out a quiet, breathy moan against Marco’s ear.

“S’good,” Marco finally replies, having just registered Jean’s idle question.

“Mm.”

“Time ‘s it?”

Jean shrugs, having no way to check the clock without disturbing what they’ve got going here, and that’s not a move he’s willing to pull. Especially not when Marco’s fingers rub against him more firmly, slipping through lube he hadn’t yet washed off after last night. He slides one into him slowly, gently coaxing Jean into relaxing for him even as he arches his back for it.

“When d’you have work?” Ooh, a fully-formed sentence. Jean smiles as he presses soft kisses against Marco’s ear, his jaw, whatever he can reach.

“Not until ten. We got plenty of time.” Humming, Marco thrusts his finger deeper, a move that has chills running over Jean’s skin. He sighs and rocks back into it, and Marco shifts to slide his now-hard cock against the crease of Jean’s inner thigh. “Mm, Marco…”

Rather than respond, Marco pulls his finger out gently and pushes forward until he’s lying easily between Jean’s thighs, which wrap around his waist and hold him close. He reaches over to the nightstand and slaps around until his hand hits the lube, nearly knocking it off before hasty fingers catch the slippery bottle.

Marco doesn’t stop his warm, wet kisses along Jean’s throat as he slicks his fingers with the lube, drawing up just enough onto his knees to give himself room to slide two fingers back into his boyfriend with a hum. The blonde leans his head back, shivering at the feeling of those fingers spreading inside him and how Marco’s tongue drags languidly over the hollow of his throat. He takes his sweet time working him open, as Jean had encouraged, and mouths his way up his exposed, flushed neck, darting his tongue out against his Adam’s apple and smiling when he feels Jean swallow under his lips.

As he works a third finger in, Marco hums and moves lazily up to Jean’s ear, nibbling at his earlobe and relishing the way Jean moves with him, against him, accommodating and giving and arching up to him, his cock pressed between their stomachs already slick with precome.

“Condom?”

Jean sighs softly, wrapping his arms around Marco’s shoulders. “Fuck it.”

“’Kay.”

As he pulls his fingers out, Marco grabs the lube again and slicks his cock, and with Jean’s helpful wiggling and spreading of his thighs, he steadies himself and presses into him with a low groan.

Jean shudders and gasps as Marco works himself deep in slow, careful thrusts, his hips rolling evenly until they’re pressed against Jean’s ass. “D-damn, Marco,” he sighs, scratching his nails through the soft hair at the nape of Marco’s neck. “Feels good.”

Marco hums his agreement and keeps his movements to small, gentle grinds until Jean gets used to it, breathing warm sighs against his jaw at the feeling of his tight heat wrapped around him so perfectly. As he feels Jean relax, Marco grows more generous with his thrusts, pulling back further only to push in again so lovingly that Jean can’t help but cling tighter to him. He arches his back and rolls back into Marco with a little moan, his chest hot against Marco’s and his cock rubbing against his stomach again. As the curve of Jean’s spine leaves the sheets, Marco slides one arm under him, hugging him tightly to himself with a content hum.

“’S good, baby?” Marco whispers into Jean’s ear, his free hand coming to trail along his flushed cheek as he moves his hips into him at the same tide-like pace, Jean’s eager tightness encouraging him as much as the blonde’s quick nod. Marco drags light kisses along his boyfriend’s stubbly jaw, thrusting deeper, and when Jean hitches his knees further up Marco’s sides, his breath stutters on this sweet, cracked little moan of his name that has chills running across Marco’s skin. “Oh, you’re incredible, Jean…”

Praise leaves Jean fucking boneless for it, especially when Marco breathes such nice things against his cheek while his cock spreads him open to some slow beat shared silent between them. Jean’s thighs are already weak and trembling around Marco, his grip slipping. Marco has mercy and slides his free hand down and under Jean’s knee, hooking it over his elbow and reaching down again to fist his fingers in the sheets so Jean’s bent back just right, just so that the blunt head of his cock slides perfectly past his sweet spot every time he fills him up deep. The shift has Jean arching harder, breath coming faster, his flush burning dark and spreading pretty down his pale chest, head thrown back into the pillows as he moans Marco’s name for him and grips him with shaking fingers.

The way Jean’s nails drag along Marco’s shoulders has him groaning, his hips moving firmer, the arm wrapped under Jean’s thin waist clutching tighter. He ducks his head to mouth again at Jean’s throat, dragging his teeth up hyper-sensitive skin until the way Jean tightens around Marco’s cock leaves him gasping against his pulse. Jean’s toes curl, and he does his best to keep riding back into Marco, but he’s whimpering and moaning and shaking under him, and squeezing his eyes shut does nothing to spare him when Marco leans back into his ear and in raspy whispers tells him how good he looks, feels, sounds.

Jean likes getting fucked rough, yeah. But the easiest way to have him keening and brainless is to make slow, sweet love to him, to move with him and keep up with him, to coax him higher and hold him as he shakes for it, and this is how Marco likes it best. He loves the taste of Jean’s sweat on his tongue, he loves the way he can feel his lover’s orgasm starting to build around himself, he loves the way Jean’s little moans come faster and breathier, and when Jean finally starts twitching up against Marco, his cock dripping and his legs trembling, Marco moans for him again and starts grinding deep with every smooth thrust. “I love you, Jean,” Marco murmurs, his breath hitching when Jean bucks up against him with a whine.

“M-Marco,” Jean whimpers, wrapping his arms around Marco’s neck as he tightens, tightens, his orgasm building hot in his gut and driving coherence out of his skull entirely. “Marco, Marco—”

“C’mon, baby, let it go, I’ve got you,” Marco whispers, his fingers twitching and his nails dragging gently across sweat-slick pale skin. He soothes Jean higher, holds him closer, and when Jean’s whines pitch high and come faster and he throws his head back again, his body tight and tense against Marco, Marco does him the favor of biting his sensitive neck just hard enough, and Jean’s lost.

He’s coming, fucking hard, body quaking from it and chest heaving gasping cries as he clings to Marco and shudders from the intensity. Marco keeps his slow, grinding thrusts and carries Jean through his orgasm, moaning low in his ear and against his jaw, spurred on by the rising waves of his lover’s writhing like the ocean as he rides it out. The scrape of nails up the back of his neck, followed by the broken whine of his name falling from Jean’s flushed, parted lips has Marco gasping, grinding deeper, eyes squeezed shut, until he lets himself tumble after Jean into white-hot bliss.

By the time Marco stops breathing Jean’s name over his skin like little prayers, Jean’s relaxed into the sheets again, his body limp but his hands soothing over Marco’s shoulders and his lips trailing over his ear, his temple, into his hair and leaving whispered love warm in their path. Marco slides his arms out from under Jean’s back and his leg so he can run his hands to bony hips, holding him gently as he pulls out with a hum. Jean chuckles, shifting at the movement, and bites his lip.

“God, Jean,” Marco mumbles, moving his hand to tilt Jean’s chin up and pressing their lips together warmly. He doesn’t let himself get too involved yet, though, because his boyfriend’s a jizz-slick mess. “Love you, babe.”

“Mm, love you too,” Jean replies, his hand sliding to squeeze Marco’s wrist before he laces his fingers behind his head and lets out a loud, sated sigh. “’Morning.”

Rolling his eyes, Marco rolls out of bed, laughing, “Good morning to you too.”

After getting them both cleaned up, Marco embroils them in a blanket cocoon and showers his boyfriend in kisses, their fingers twined tightly, and they pass the morning in lazy cuddles until Jean has to drag his ass to work so nothing explodes. 

Chapter Text

Reiner swears up and down and along every other possible axis that he checked the weather before they’d left for the trip, and Bertholdt quietly backs him up, even under Jean’s loud scrutiny. “Besides,” Reiner booms over the pouring rain from their tent, “It’s July. It never rains in July!”

Jean shivers and grouses, and Marco rolls his eyes good-naturedly behind him.

Camping.

Of all the weird double-date activities in the world, why camping? Granted, it’d been a good long while since they’d seen Reiner and Bertholdt outside of classes, with the exception of Jean and Bert’s long gripes about their respective labs at the vending machine. “Let’s all hang out sometime,” Jean had said one day. “It’ll be fun,” he’d said.

Reiner, being the resident outdoorsman, had arranged a week-long trip to the mountains. Apparently he’d forgotten that it is not actually normal to give as few shits about rain as he does, based on how surprised he’d been that Jean had violently protested leaving the tent once the deluge started. Either way, it’s been pouring for two days, and the only reason Jean hasn’t stuffed the other three into the trunk of his car and driven home is because they all desperately need the vacation.

Thankfully, they have other activities with which to preoccupy themselves.

Like a potentially felony-grade amount of marijuana.

After a rousing few rounds of Scrabble nearly escalate to homicide, Reiner and Bertholdt retreat to their own hut (presumably to make out), and Jean and Marco decide that the best course of action for killing the afternoon is to see how good the sealing on their tent is. Via hotboxing. Because why not.

Jean passes Marco the bowl as he lets out a veritable mushroom cloud of smoke into the already-dense fog filling their tent, then flops onto his back with a content whuff. He blearily watches Marco pull a deep hit, running a hand up and down his boyfriend’s thigh idly.

“Babe,” Jean mumbles, catching the brunette’s attention as he holds the hit. “When was the last time we even smoked together?”

With a shrug, Marco billows smoke and puts the bowl safely aside, then stretches out next to Jean, tangling their bent legs easily. “Few months, at least. We haven’t had much time for it these days.” Jean hums, inching lazily closer to Marco. They wiggle around until they’re somewhat impressively wrapped around each other, no clear idea where one ends and the other begins, before Marco laughs, “God, we were such stoners in high school, though.”

Jean snorts, slipping his hand up the back of Marco’s shirt. “Duh. You remember the time we baked out your treehouse?”

“Oh my god, yeah,” Marco manages around badly-stifled giggles. “The triplets went in the next day and complained about the smell, and my parents both looked straight at us—” Jean fails to contain his own laughter, shaking with it and nodding quickly. “—Oh god, I think I broke a rib trying not to laugh, and you kept snorting, and then my dad started laughing too because he’d caught us trying to make like seven pounds of Bagel Bites—ugh, it was horrible,” Marco finishes, running a hand over his now-streaming eyes.

“Ohhh, nooo,” Jean whimpers, shaking harder and biting his lip as he grins up at his boyfriend. “D’you remember the time Hitch caught us in the laundry room?” Marco wheezes laughter, nodding furiously. “Like half making out and half trying to figure out how to get rid of the smell before my parents came home? So we’re making out on the dryer and spraying Febreeze and she just stares at us for a minute—”

“And you sprayed Febreeze at her and whispered, ‘Begone, witch!’”

Jean straight up cackles, flopping onto his back and burying his bright red face in his hands. Marco’s fisting his hands in Jean’s shirt, helpless with giggles, and it takes the losers a good while to catch their breath again.

Of course, the second Jean does—“D’you think Dominos delivers out here?”

“I really doubt it,” Marco hums, lacing his fingers under his head. “They like street addresses, not spatial coordinates.”

“Ugh.” Jean rolls over and flops across Marco’s chest, burrowing into him again. “Didn’t Amazon start delivering with like flying robots or some shit? Dominos should get on that.”

“Your hunger for pizza when you’re high is really impressive.”

Grumbling loudly, Jean coils himself further around his boyfriend and waxes poetic about cheesy bread until Marco reaches down and covers his mouth to spare them both the torment. In the brief quiet, the rain starts to pour harder against the roof of their tent, and thunder rolls somewhere in the distance.

“Hmph,” Jean says, wiggling loose from Marco’s hand before he tries again. “Hey, Marco.”

“Mhm?”

“You wanna, uh.”

Marco raises his eyebrows at his boyfriend, who just grins and sticks his tongue out. “What,” the brunette laughs, sneakily poking at Jean’s ticklish sides, “Am I the backup plan for when pizza is impossible?” As Jean wiggles away from his fingers, Marco’s own grin widens. He digs his fingers into Jean’s ribs, holding him close with his legs so he can’t escape the inevitable tickles.

“No,” Jean wheezes finally, rolling on top of Marco and wrestling his hands to the floor of the tent. “You know my pizza love is outshined only by my Marco love.” He flops onto his boyfriend’s chest and catches his lips in a quick kiss, relaxing further into his lap as he does.

“Wow, such a compliment.” Retrieving his hands, Marco wraps his arms around Jean’s waist and hums quietly. “Did you pack stuff?”

“Duh.”

“Alright, sassy,” Marco chuckles, leaning up for another kiss. He runs his hands slowly down Jean’s thin back, sliding them easily under his loose shirt so he can drag the warm tips of his fingers over pale, humid skin. “Now that you mention it, I could go for fooling around.”

“Nice.” Jean slips his tongue between Marco’s lips and nips gently at them, then rolls off to the side, making himself comfortable on his back. He grins at Marco and tugs his sleeve.

“What, you callin’ dibs on bottom?” Marco leans up on his elbows, laughing and quirking an eyebrow. “What if I wanted to?”

“Marcooo,” Jean wheedles, licking his lips and unbuttoning his jeans. “I’m feeling super lazy.”

“Like I’m not?” Marco rolls between Jean’s thighs anyway, resting heavily on him just to be a pain. “I smoked just as much as you, sir,” he mumbles, dipping to kiss idly up Jean’s throat. Jean purrs, leaning his head back, and hitches his knees over Marco’s hips.

“Could always flip a coin,” Jean sighs, wrapping his arms around Marco’s neck.

“Nah,” the brunette replies, kissing up to Jean’s lips and sucking at them with a soft laugh. “’S not that deep.” Jean hums, content with his minor victory, until Marco grins widely, wraps his arms around him, and rolls them back over so Jean’s on top again. “Yup, this should work,” Marco says, lacing his fingers behind his head again.

“Cheater,” Jean laughs, sitting up just enough to pull his shirt off and toss it into the corner before he flops back onto Marco and tickles his sides. Marco’s not incredibly ticklish when he’s high, but it’s enough to make him wiggle and laugh under Jean, his hands coming to ruffle Jean’s hair something fierce.

“Fine, fine,” Marco giggles, admitting defeat, slipping his hands down the back of Jean’s pants and palming his ass. “Take turns?”

“Seems fair.” Jean leans up and tugs Marco’s shirt off, kissing down his chest as he unfastens Marco’s shorts and tugs them down along with his underwear. He laves his pierced tongue over Marco’s nipple slowly, stroking the brunette’s half-hard cock to standing as he stuffs his other hand down his own pants and frees himself from the loose confines of the fabric. Marco rolls his hips into Jean’s hand with a soft sigh, then reaches up for their duffel bag and digs around in the front pocket for the lube.

Jean drags his tongue back up Marco’s chest, over the exposed arch of his throat, and straddles him easily, wrapping long fingers around them both and stroking them together with a hum. He shifts to suck a little mark into Marco’s collarbone, grinding against him, until Marco digs out the bottle and runs a hand through messy blonde hair.

“Condom?”

Sitting up again, Jean wiggles his pants down his thighs and purses his lips. “Do we have napkins?” Marco reaches back again, digging further, then nods up at Jean. “Then nah. Stoned bareback is great.”

Laughing softly, Marco pulls Jean down and kisses him deeply, rocking his arousal into the hollow of Jean’s bony hip, and he drops the lube to the side while he runs his hands over his slowly-moving boyfriend. His warm palms drag down the arch of Jean’s back, squeezing his bare ass with a hum, moaning quietly when Jean shifts against him and grinds their hips together. He curves his fingers tighter around Jean’s ass, guiding them together more firmly, and the soft gasp Jean breathes against his lips has Marco grinning and riding up against him with another low moan. Jean lets him take over and grabs the lube, slicking his fingers somewhat haphazardly before reaching back and spreading cool lube over his entrance.

Marco kisses him again while Jean preps himself, coaxing him into spreading his thighs wider across his lap. As he works himself open, Jean fucks his tongue slowly into Marco’s mouth, leaning over him on one elbow and thrusting his finger as deeply as the angle will allow. The high makes him sensitive to every brush of his boyfriend’s gently-caressing hands, and as he slides a second finger inside, he wiggles out of his pants with Marco’s help.

“Start like this?” Marco whispers against him, kicking his own pants the rest of the way off with slight difficulty. Jean nods, then kisses him again, rocking back into his fingers and forward against Marco with a little moan. Soothing hands trail up pale thighs again, over his hips, his touch gentle as Marco slips one hand down and presses his fingers against Jean’s slick entrance. His free arm wraps warmly around his boyfriend’s waist as he slides his middle finger through the excess lube around Jean’s slowly-thrusting fingers, before he nudges his finger in alongside Jean’s and groans at the tight heat wrapped around them. The blonde whines against him, arching his back and squeezing his eyes shut. He relaxes around their fingers, rocking back harder, until he pulls his own out and reaches for the lube again.

Smiling widely, Marco thrusts his finger into Jean a few more times just to make him shiver, and Jean returns the favor as he slicks Marco’s cock with a tight grip. Marco pulls his finger out and steadies himself for Jean, and when his boyfriend moves over him and sinks down onto him, he can’t really help the way his eyes slide contently shut and a lazy grin spreads over his face.

“G-goof,” Jean murmurs, rocking slowly onto Marco and leaning his head back with a breathy laugh.

“Sorry, sorry,” Marco says, opening his eyes again to watch his hands move over Jean’s thighs, his hips, spreading his long, dark fingers over the pale skin of Jean’s stomach and sliding his palms up the blonde’s ribs, his chest, trailing the tips of his fingers up the column of Jean’s throat with a soft hum. “You look really good, baby…” Jean tilts his head and smirks down at him, running his own hands up Marco’s forearms and lacing their fingers together. He bends down for another kiss, settling fully onto his boyfriend’s cock, before he gets an idea and leans over to grab the bowl again.

Sitting up straight, thighs spread wide over Marco’s lap, Jean grins down at him and lights another long hit, holding it as he puts the bowl back on the thick textbook they’re using as a table. He leans back down onto his elbows, brushing his lips against Marco’s, and the brunette settles his hands on Jean’s waist and parts his lips for the hit.

Jean lets it out slowly, thick smoke dripping from his lungs and into Marco’s, the brunette inhaling deeply and gently squeezing Jean’s sides, and when Jean’s out of smoke, he presses their lips together with a warm hum. Marco kisses him softly, then tilts his head back and pipes the smoke out above them. He grins back at Jean and wraps his arms around him again, leaning up for another smoky kiss. “You big pothead,” he teases, laughing when Jean just sticks his tongue out at him.

Marco starts rocking his hips up slowly, the tingle of the weed still fresh in his mouth and his lungs, just as sensitive to the warm brush of Jean’s skin as the blonde is to his. They kiss warmly, moving together in a gentle, easy burn, the hammering rain and rumbling thunder above them covering their soft moans and loving whispers, the storm swallowing their laughter and the sound of Marco’s movements shifting their noisy sleeping bags together. Jean moves onto him in perfect, lazy synchrony, his hands soft on Marco’s stubbly cheeks, raspy moans of his lover’s name pressed against his lips and breathed against his cheek quiet in the smoky haze of their tent.

He shifts enough that he can wrap a hand around his cock, giving himself a few idle pulls with another low moan before Marco moves his hands to Jean's chest and eases him upright again. Jean lifts himself up slightly, then leans his head back with a gasp when Marco’s hands fall to his hips and hold him still so he can thrust up into him, keeping their languid rhythm and grinding steadily inside of his boyfriend.

Jean’s hips rock into Marco’s, taking him deep and shivering at the feeling, leaning back and resting his hands between Marco’s spread thighs so his cock grinds past his sweet spot with every firm thrust, and the position gives Marco a perfect view of how good Jean looks stretched around his cock. Marco groans at the sight, digging his heels in so he has the leverage to hit Jean just right, easy and rhythmic in a way that has Jean tightening around him and shaking for him.

Licking his lips and moaning again, Jean grins down at Marco and circles his hips so nicely, his cock resting hard against his own flexing stomach. Marco arches into him, then shifts to wrap his hand around Jean’s cock, stroking in time to his steady movements. He watches with a heated gaze as Jean’s back arches and his head falls back, a quiet gasp of Marco’s name coloring the smoky air, until Marco finds himself wanting more. Pulling Jean down against his chest, Marco rolls them over so he can thrust more firmly, picking up the pace and smiling at the way his boyfriend whimpers and wraps tight around him. Shaking legs wound around Marco’s waist, hands gripping Marco’s shoulders, Jean rocks back onto him with a shivering moan, biting his lip and arching so pretty under him.

“You feel amazing, Jean,” Marco murmurs, leaning down onto his forearms so he can nuzzle Jean’s cheek and press little kisses across his dark flush. Jean catches his lips again and kisses him deeply, breathing quiet moans and holding them close together, his thighs already trembling from the way Marco fills him up so deep, so good. Marco edges forward, bending Jean further, and a loud crack of thunder drowns out the loud, shuddering whimper Jean can’t stifle in time at the perfect change in angle.

“Th-there, ‘s good, Marco,” Jean whispers, tangling his shaking fingers in dark hair and twitching up against his boyfriend.

Marco hums his agreement, nudging Jean’s jaw with his nose and mouthing along his throat, tasting smoke and sweat and moaning his name against his pulse. He moves a little harder, a little faster, his smoked-out brain nearly overcome with how tight Jean is around him, how hot his thin body is pressed up against him, how good his nails feel in his hair and scratching slowly down his back, until he’s nipping up to Jean’s ear and breathing rough moans against him around whispered praises.

Jean whimpers, arching harder as he rocks back onto Marco, before he tugs on his boyfriend’s hair and pulls him into a quick, messy kiss. “B-babe, wait, wait,” he groans, kissing Marco again and squeezing around him as the brunette gives him a particularly good, grinding thrust. “N-not yet.”

“Don’t wanna come yet?” Marco breathes, leaning up to smile down at his flushed lover. He nuzzles their noses together and slows down again, shifting his weight so he can spread his warm fingers up Jean’s ribs again. Jean makes to respond, but he just leans his head back on a breathy moan when Marco pinches his nipples gently, rolling perked flesh between his fingers.

“Not y-yet, not yet,” Jean finally manages, tightening his thighs around Marco’s waist. “Feels s-so good, Marco…”

“Mhm,” Marco hums, easing back into his slow, grinding pace, ducking to suck one of Jean’s nipples between his lips. Jean twitches up against him when Marco bites his nipple lightly, soothing the sting with his tongue and a low hum. He flicks the tip of his tongue quickly over it, dragging his thumb over the other, before he leans up and steals another warm kiss. He sits up then, pulling Jean further into his lap and sitting back on his heels, grinning at the way his boyfriend looks spread out for him.

Jean arches his back again, moaning Marco’s name, before he starts feeling around for something above his head.

“Mm, what’cha need, baby?” Marco licks his lips and rocks into Jean, running his hand up the blonde’s sweat-slick chest.

“Water’s here somewhere,” Jean mumbles, twisting around and grabbing the bottle. He flops onto his back again, shivering as Marco grinds up into him, then laughs and pats his boyfriend’s knee. Marco stills his hips but lets his hands wander as Jean drinks, his throat no doubt dry from the thick smoke and from panting in the heavy air between them, and when Jean offers him the bottle he takes it gratefully.

“’M gonna roll over,” Jean murmurs as he slides out of Marco’s lap and does so, spreading his thighs and arching up toward his boyfriend. He grins over his shoulder, resting easily on his forearms and wiggling his ass. Marco raises an eyebrow, capping the water again and setting it aside before he crawls back over Jean and leans down to kiss him warmly.

“Need a break?”

“Hell no.” Jean sighs and grinds back against Marco, licking his lips at the way his boyfriend’s cock slides slick between his cheeks. “Was gonna come way too fast on my back, ‘s all.”

Marco chuckles and moves over Jean again, straddling his spread thighs as he steadies himself and slides home with a rumbling moan. He sits up to admire the view, Jean’s cute, tight ass sinking further onto his cock kind of making his head spin, and reaches over for the bowl again mostly to give himself a second to get it together. Jean squeezes around him, though, with a devilish grin and tempting wiggle, and Marco responds by slapping his ass playfully and squeezing.

“You gonna share that?” Jean asks, peering over his shoulder. He sticks his tongue out when Marco nods, watching him finish out the bowl with a deep inhale, and he’s already smiling and arching up for Marco when the brunette puts the thing aside and leans down to him. Marco returns Jean’s earlier favor and breathes the hit out slowly, watching Jean pull it in deep before he flicks his tongue between the blonde’s lips and gives him a soft kiss.

Jean exhales around a smoky laugh, dropping his forehead onto the sleeping bag beneath them and rocking back against Marco. He makes himself comfortable and wiggles further onto his knees, squeezing his thighs together between Marco's in a way that makes him tighten perfectly around his cock, moaning softly as Marco sighs and leans his head back. Jean peers back up at his boyfriend and whispers, “C’mon, babe.”

“Wanna come?” Marco leans over Jean, grinding slowly into him, and mouths along his shoulder. Jean nods as he reaches over to their bag and digs out the napkins. “Can I come inside you?” Jean nods again, licking his lips. He arches back onto Marco as he fists his hands in the edge of the sleeping bag, biting his lip around a low moan, and Marco murmurs sweet love to him as he starts moving again.

The way Jean’s holding his shaking thighs together makes his tight heat almost too good, leaving Marco moaning into his shoulder as he speeds up, pressing endless kisses against his boyfriend and rasping brainless praises for him, until Jean’s keening under him and wiggling against him and panting again in the thick air. He reaches back and runs his fingers through Marco’s sweat-damp hair, moving back onto him, and when Marco shivers and melts against him, unable to hold himself above him any more, he thrusts harder into Jean and gasps for him. The quick grind of his hips rolls his cock firmly against Jean’s sweet spot, drawing whimpering moans and breathless pleas out of him, until he’s begging Marco for more, and Marco can’t help but oblige him.

He wraps his arms around Jean’s chest, pressing him to the floor and thrusting deeper, moaning into his ear and gasping his name, and tries to hold off his own orgasm as best he can until Jean’s there too. It doesn’t take long, thankfully, not after he shifts his weight onto one forearm and moves his free hand to Jean’s hip, urging him to ride back into him with gentle pulls, and Jean manages to impale himself in quick, deep thrusts for just a few more moments until the sensation builds hot and fast and leaves him keening breathlessly into the sleeping bag.

Marco moans and squeezes his eyes shut as Jean tightens further around him, whimpering his name over and over as he twitches and comes messy beneath them. He manages to thrust into him once, twice more before he’s stuttering a warning to Jean, who gives an encouraging moan. He buries himself inside his boyfriend, sinking his teeth into Jean’s shoulder with a whine, and as he grinds his hips deep, he lets himself fall.

It takes a while for either of them to come close to coherence again, rendered thoroughly brainless by the high and by each other. After a while, Marco whispers shakily in Jean’s ear, yet more sweet, breathy nothings as he slides his hands reverently over Jean’s body. He pulls out gently, groaning at the way Jean arches, and he watches more than a little eagerly when the movement lets his come drip out of him slightly.

Jean sighs as Marco moves to clean him off, wiggling under his boyfriend’s slow, loving kisses drawn across his tired body, and before it occurs to him to wipe his own come off their sleeping bags, Marco’s already taking care of it with a vaguely impressed sound.

“Pent up or something, love?”

“Hnrgh?”

Marco laughs, holding up the pile of napkins before he stuffs it deep in their trash bag. “You came a lot.”

“Oh,” Jean hums, rolling lazily onto his back. “Mm, guess so.” He grins up at Marco and pulls him down for more kisses, wrapping himself around him contently. “Love you, goober,” he murmurs, wiggling happily as Marco whispers the words back to him, several times over between warm kisses.

After a long while of sated cuddling and making out, Jean realizes that the rain had stopped at some point, but he can’t really find it in his baked, fucked-out brain to even consider going back outside. Besides, when the humidity kicks up and they have to roll apart for fear of lighting on fire with their shared body heat, Marco pulls his dumb little ukulele out of its case and lies flat on his back, naked as the day he was born, and sings Jean saccharine sweet songs about the tide.

With Marco’s now-smoky voice filling the thick air, his fingers flicking over the strings and his toes wiggling to the beat, Jean doubts he’ll ever want to be anywhere but right here.

Chapter Text

Marco has too many fucking classes. Far too many. Or maybe it’s just that Jean has a surprisingly light semester, even with his lab job.

Either way, Jean finds himself rolling around restlessly in their bed way too often, wondering how the space could possibly seem this huge when he’s not sharing it with his boyfriend.

Flopping lifelessly onto his back again, Jean kicks the sheet off his feet and laces his fingers behind his head, weighing his options. He thinks he might explode if he goes through this round of flash cards one more damn time. Lab for this week is prepared already, tables and all. Homework is all done, surprisingly, which would normally be a damn relief. (Well, all of it except that bullshit religion paper he just can’t muster the fucks to care about. Seriously, five hundred words? Jean has written sexts longer than that.)

He sighs loudly and looks over at the alarm on the nightstand. Not even close to Marco’clock. Lame.

Jean puffs his cheeks out and kicks his feet against the bed idly, wondering if he should take up a fucking hobby or something. Maybe writing. Marco always tells him that his writing is good.

Never mind that the only writing he really does is the aforementioned sexting, and he has damn good reason to get into that. Not only because it’s fun to fuck with his boyfriend, but because when Marco tackles him whenever he gets home after Jean’s been messing with him, he’s always already beautifully worked up and extremely flustered. Flustered Marco equals rough top Marco, and if Jean’s trying to get fucked through the mattress, lengthy sexting is the way to go.

Allowing his mind to meander down this path has its extreme downsides, Jean realizes suddenly, as it would appear his cock definitely has an opinion on the matter too. He throws it some shade where it’s already half-hard against his thigh, stuck in the leg of the pants he put on for whatever damn reason.

Now Jean’s got a half-chub and the distinct urge to fuck with Marco. Unfortunately, he’d promised not to, because Marco’s got some test or another that he’s been freaking out about for something like a week. The importance of being a well-behaved, supportive boyfriend aside, Jean knows that Marco’s not afraid to boot his ass to the couch.

He pulls a hand out from under his head to fiddle with his bangs slightly, eyes crossing to focus on blonde strands flattened between his fingers. They’re getting long. His mind wanders again, forming hazy daydreams of asking Marco to trim them, and he allows himself the luxury of imagining his boyfriend’s warm hands sliding across a nice, freshly-shaved undercut. It’s cozy, peaceful. Very domestic. That is, until his dick just has to interject with the image of Marco’s nails scratching up into the longer, blonder part of Jean’s hair and fisting in messy strands. It’s downhill from there.

Marco would slide into Jean’s lap, slow and warm, his thighs spread beautifully as he grins down at Jean and presses them together. He’d lick his lips and say something teasing, something way hotter than it ought to be, and then he’d pull on Jean’s hair to expose his neck. His lips and his mouth would be hot traveling down Jean’s arched throat, and he’d rock their hips together in a slow, rhythmic grind, and Jean would just whine and let Marco have his way.

If he wasn’t hard before, well.

Jean runs a hand down his face and tries to change his line of thinking entirely. He times out his next few batches of peptides, runs through the procedure he knows in his fucking sleep, starts thinking perhaps a little too hard about acid chemistry. (Hey, he’s not majoring in chemistry for the giggles.)

Tapping his feet together and squinting around mental equations kills something like half an hour, once he gets into the groove, but it’s not long before his internal list of ‘shit to look up’ gets dangerously long. He could just get his laptop and do that, or write five hundred words about Marco’s fine ass and email it to his religion teacher, or just surf the internet. An entire world of information and YouTube at his disposal.

And also porn.

Staring at his ceiling, Jean puts serious thought into the matter. Maybe jerking off wouldn’t be a terrible idea. It’d definitely kill time. Too bad his laptop’s, like, way over there. So far.

Jean grumbles and reaches down to palm idly at his cock, thinking deeply about getting up and getting his computer. He probably doesn’t even need it, though, based on the lingering half-chub.

His mind wanders again, flitting through half-baked thoughts of Marco’s hands and his mouth and his sweet body, until his eyes slide shut and he slips his hand under the waistband of his jeans to the thought of Marco’s back arching off their sheets, pretty lips parting on a soft moan.

As Jean unfastens his pants and lets his cock bounce out against his stomach, he remembers this video he saw sometime last week, where the guy had whipped his dick out much the same as Jean just had, but rather than jack himself off, he’d just sort of… breathed heavily. He’d twitched a few times, and squirmed with his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, until suddenly he’d tensed and arched up and jizzed without even touching himself.

Jean stares down at his dick with a thoughtful expression. He’s had some pretty hot wank fantasies, no lie. Some of the particularly vivid ones had gotten him at least halfway there before he even put his hands on himself.

It doesn’t take much for curiosity to win out, and if nothing else, it’ll kill more time than his average wank. He pulls his shirt off, then settles back into the sheets, fending off feelings of ridiculousness in favor of thinking about Marco.

He thinks about Marco’s grin, the way he licks his lips when he’s turned on. The way he gets touchier than usual, his warm fingers finding Jean’s arm, his shoulder, his waist, his hands lingering heavy with an unspoken promise until Jean’s practically snorting fire and dragging his ass out the door.

Recently, they’d discovered that Marco’s actually somewhere above average in his skill with a camera, which of course quickly translated into the kinds of pictures that get hidden deep in an invisible file on Marco’s computer. (He’s got a particular talent for mid-fuck selfies, and may or may not be a wizard with the self-timer.)

Jean has to admit, he really really likes the idea of Marco taking pictures of them. Marco’s hot as hell, and the way he somehow composes near-artful pictures on the fly is borderline ridiculous. While he’d never really seen the point before, there’s something about the way Marco captures their bodies flushed and wound together that really gets Jean going.

So, he thinks about that. He thinks about Marco with his camera, quietly asking if Jean wants to help him out with something. He’d flush and grin crookedly, running his hand through his hair as he asks Jean in one quick breath if he’d fuck himself on the coffee table. Half because the table’s new and they haven’t fucked on it yet, making it the proverbial odd man out in their apartment, and half because it’s a fairly interesting piece of furniture. It’s got a wide wood rim around a crystal-clear glass panel, and Marco would mumble that it’d make for an interesting picture if Jean sat on one of their toys, thighs spread wide over the table, and Marco took a picture through the glass.

“You don’t have to,” Marco would say, running his thumb over Jean’s flushed cheek and kissing him softly, patiently. He’d laugh playfully, though, and let Jean rip his own shirt off, and they’d kiss again so Marco has no cause to doubt, and Jean would wind his fingers into his boyfriend’s soft black hair while Marco slides his hands down and unbuttons Jean’s pants.

Jean dwells on the image of Marco kissing him slowly for a moment before he skips forward, to when he’d slowly lower himself onto the toy suction-cupped to the glass panel, his skin breaking out in chills, and Marco’s toes would curl after he'd slithered under the table and rolled onto his back. Jean would shift, maybe idly stroke his (near-embarrassingly hard) dick, and Marco would hum and tell Jean it’s perfect. He’d ask Jean to lean forward, maybe, and arch his back so his pierced cock lies on the glass too, and Jean would. It’d be cold, so he’d shiver again, but he’d look down at Marco, still completely clothed under the table, and he’d be pitching a fantastic tent.

Marco would take a dozen pictures before he crawled out from under the table, and as Jean would sit up and try to wiggle himself off the toy, Marco would lick his lips and lean down for a kiss and whisper, “Can I take a few more? You look really good like this…”

How could Jean possibly refuse that offer? He’d sink back down onto the toy and bite his own lips, nodding hazily, and Marco would grin like the sun and lean one knee on the wood edge of the table. He’d stand over Jean, murmuring quiet instructions to him, and Jean would hasten to obey.

“Bite your lip again?” Jean would. “Fuck, that’s good…” Jean would shiver. “M-maybe…” He’d tilt his head and give Marco a sultry grin, which Marco would take several eager pictures of. “Can you put your hands behind your back?” Jean would blink slowly, and he’d smirk as he reaches behind himself and grips his elbows, his thighs spreading wider and his cock dripping clear precome onto the table. He’d part his lips and lick them slowly, staring through the camera with his burning gaze and searching for that flustered, rough part of Marco he knows perfectly how to bring out. He’d watch chills erupt over his boyfriend’s skin, Marco’s lips parting on a shaky sigh.

(Jean mirrors his imagined movement in his bed, lying on his arms and keeping his hands away from himself, his eyes closed and his breath quickening as he loses himself in their little game.)

Jean would flick his eyes back down to where Marco’s straining at the front of his pants, giving a raspy hum as he quirks an eyebrow. He’d grin lopsidedly back up at the brunette and tilt his head in an unspoken question, and Marco would moan softly before he grins right back.

“You want that, hmm?” Jean would nod slowly. “Not satisfied with that cock up your ass? Want your mouth filled up too?” Jean would groan, his eyes sliding closed, before he gives another tiny nod. Marco drops his hand to Jean’s cheek, peering at him over the camera. Then he slides his thumb over Jean’s flushed lips, parting them gently, and presses the tip into his boyfriend’s warm mouth. Jean closes his lips over the digit and flicks his tongue over it, not breaking their heated eye contact, before he leans forward and sucks Marco’s thumb into his mouth. He shamelessly gives Marco a demonstration of what he wants, his hips barely rocking on the cock buried deep inside him, and he barely blinks when the shutter flurries and captures the wanton image he makes.

Marco takes his thumb back and arches his hips forward, rubbing his clothed arousal against Jean’s mouth with a low groan. Jean wants more than that, more, but his mind supplies a strong, warm hand gripping his wrists firmly behind his back, and he arches with a low, shivering moan at the restraint. Marco grins at him, snapping pictures of how Jean gasps against his cock, mouthing him eagerly through the fabric, silently begging to suck Marco’s dick.

There’s so many hands, Jean thinks for a moment, and illusion nearly breaks until his mind fills in the holes. The hand belongs to the person he’s straddling, the toy gone from his mind and replaced with dark thighs and a thick cock buried inside of him, riding up into his tiny movements, and Jean’s mouth falls open on a hitched gasp at the feeling. That person’s other hand slides soothingly up his back, around his chest, and he feels them sit up behind him. God, they’re warm, and Marco smiles widely at them before he captures the way Jean licks slowly up the tight material stretched over Marco’s cock, the way the person behind Jean leans in and mouths sloppily up his pale, sweat-slick neck, humming at the taste. They’d reach around and wrap their free arm around his waist, pressing his thin back against their strong chest, before they trail dark fingers down his hip, over his sensitive inner thigh, playing around his aching cock and moaning softly at the way Jean wiggles.

Jean breathes Marco’s name against his cock, staring up at him even as he tries to sink further onto whoever’s behind him, and Marco grins and looks at them both.

“What d’you think?” he asks, his voice husky and teasing.

“He’s been good so far,” a rough, familiar voice breathes over Jean’s ear, smoky and obviously backed by a wide grin. They’d nuzzle behind Jean’s ear, nipping at the sensitive skin just below, before they murmur, “I say stuff ‘im.”

Shivering and arching, Jean leans his head back onto their shoulder, and he breathes a name around a quiet whimper: “E-Eren…”

“Yeah?”

Jean curses quietly, turning to nudge his nose against Eren’s cheek until he turns and obliges him. Eren kisses him so deep and so warm, easily overpowering him and relaxing him, the kind of kiss Jean hasn’t felt since that one time they made out in a supermarket parking lot. He slides his rough fingers under Jean’s jaw and around the back of his neck, scratching short nails through the shaved hair at his nape. Jean moans against him, squeezing Eren’s cock and circling his hips as Eren fucks his tongue into his mouth. The sound of the camera capturing the way their lips fit together is near-silent under the haze filling his brain. He wants them, wants them both so bad, so when the hand curled around the base of his skull slips away, he squirms and gives a soft, protesting moan. The sound of Marco’s zipper breaks loud through the fog, though, and Jean jumps slightly and gasps.

He looks over at where Eren’s easing Marco’s pants open with his now-free hand, the other still holding Jean’s thin wrists behind him. Eren pulls away from their kiss so he can tug Marco closer. He slips Marco’s precome-slick cock out of his boxers, his rough hand wrapping around and stroking him slowly, before he whispers to Jean, “This what you want?”

Nodding quickly, Jean squirms and tries to be subtle about opening his mouth for it, but when Marco edges closer, Eren leans around Jean’s shoulder and slides his lips over the head of Marco’s cock with a low groan. Marco moans Eren's name, watching through the camera, and Jean whines, leaning forward and mouthing sloppily up his shaft. He doesn’t have the presence of mind to bitch at Eren about hogging Marco’s dick, not even when Eren starts bobbing his head deep, intense green eyes focused straight through the camera. When he buries his nose in the dark curls at the base of Marco’s cock, Jean whimpers and squeezes, nearly making Eren choke.

Eren hollows his cheeks around Marco and pulls off, turning to slip his tongue between Jean’s lips, again playfully depriving him of what he wants. He strokes Marco slowly, sucking on the blonde's flushed lips and chuckling as Jean silently pleads with him, until he nudges Jean’s head around and whispers, “Alright, baby.”

Jean barely pulls in a breath before he’s taking Marco deep, reveling in his boyfriend’s shaky moans, bobbing his head fast and hollowing his cheeks around him. When Eren gets his revenge and sinks sharp teeth into his shoulder, Jean chokes slightly and has to pull off with a gasp, uncaring for the saliva trailing from his swollen lips. He gets it together, though, and gladly sucks Marco’s cock, moaning around him and rocking his hips onto Eren, and it occurs to him that he’s never been so goddamn full in his life but it’s fucking awesome.

With a parting whisper, Eren lies back along the table, his free hand guiding Jean into rising onto his knees, and just as Jean takes Marco to the hilt and swallows around him, Eren laughs, and then he’s fucking him. Jean’s eyes cross before they roll shut, his desperate cries stifled by Marco’s cock filling his mouth. He’s so fucked-out he feels like he might fucking faint. Eren’s cock stretches him open so nicely, so much thicker than Jean’s used to, and the angle lets the blunt head ram his sweet spot with every rough thrust.

Marco gasps, murmuring both of their names and cursing softly, before he pulls back slightly to let Jean breathe. Jean opens his eyes, staring up at Marco with this fucking dazed expression, his lips tight around Marco’s cock and sucking encouragingly as Eren fucks the brains right out of his skull. Marco snaps a few more pictures, then tosses the camera onto the couch and brings his hands to Jean’s hollowed cheeks, his thumbs running over his cheekbones, before he moans and thrusts lightly into Jean’s mouth.

Between Eren’s noisily-moaned praises (“God damn, Jean, you’re so fucking tight—”) and Marco’s brainless whispers (“Baby, no idea how good you look, fuck you’re beautiful—”), between the cocks filling Jean up and fucking him in perfect time, the hand holding him restrained and the one roughly stroking his soaked cock, Jean’s eyes roll closed, and he takes it as best he can until it builds, hot and tight in his gut, and he gives a muffled whimper when he finally, finally falls over the edge, his back arched off the bed and his hands gripping the sheets and his head thrown back into the pillows.

Jean comes all fucking over himself, his toes curled into the sheets and his knees pressed tight together, gasping for air, until he collapses back onto the bed with a pathetic whimper and buries his face into the pillow that still smells like Marco’s shampoo.

He comes down out of the clouds and blearily cleans himself up, staring vacantly at the mess he’d made up his stomach and his chest, and he lets himself stare at the ceiling and have exactly zero sentient thoughts for something like fifteen minutes.

Naturally, his first real thought when his brain sees fit to function again:

“Jesus Christ.”

The second:

“Eren, though?”

The third:

“Aaand exactly zero people are surprised.”

He grimaces and runs his hands down his face, scrubbing slightly, before the sound of their front door opening startles him straight off the bed.

Chapter Text

“Jean, you nerd—”

Jean just grumps sleepily and wraps himself further around his captive, who’s laughing and trying to wiggle away from his limp octopus boyfriend.

Having just come home from absurdly-early-Saturday-yoga, Marco made the fatal mistake of walking too close to the edge of the bed. The proximity to immediate danger, in addition to blinding himself in the brief moment it took him to pull his shirt over his head, left Marco completely open to attack.

He squeaks and laughs when Jean’s teeth somehow find his ass cheek, chomping playfully through his tight-ass yoga pants. The blonde’s pale arms, emerging from the blanket warm and half-asleep, are wrapped around one of Marco’s thighs, holding him hostage easily. Marco stares down at the blanket fiend slowly absorbing him and pokes where he assumes the creature’s head to be. “Can I at least shower first?”

“But I have you now,” comes the slurred response, a mix of sleep-addled brains and a mouthful of ass.

“I’m so sweaty!”

“’S okay, you’ll get sweaty again anyway.”

Marco laughs, licking his lips as Jean’s palm slides up his inner thigh and over his cock through dark spandex. He shivers and lets Jean grope him, still nuzzling against his butt from under the blanket. “Different sweat, love. C’mon, please? I feel salty.”

He looks back and watches his boyfriend shake the blanket mostly off his face, squinting in the late morning sunlight, and Jean gives his cock a brief squeeze before he unwraps himself and stretches loudly across the bed. Marco uses his enormous yawn to escape to the bathroom and start the shower, peeling the rest of his clothes off.

Jean’ll catch up. With a content sigh, Marco slips into the shower, ducking under the hot spray and running his hands through his hair. As he’s working shampoo into his hair, the lather dripping over his sun-dark skin, Jean slips his arms around Marco’s waist and presses against his back with a low hum.

“Hi,” Marco laughs, peering over his shoulder.

“Hey.” Jean moves to kiss up Marco’s neck, then fails utterly at preventing thick bubbles from getting in his mouth, sputtering in his boyfriend’s ear. Marco just laughs at him, scratching his nails through his hair once more before he leans forward into the spray and rinses out the soap. Jean’s hands slide over Marco’s stomach, squeezing his sides, before he drags his fingers over his chest and up his throat, and Marco leans his head back against Jean’s shoulder and accepts his boyfriend’s slow, sleepy kisses.

“You gonna get in on this?” Marco grins as he asks, nipping at Jean’s lower lip playfully. “Or are you just here to grope me?”

“Mmph, the latter, if it’s fine by you,” Jean rasps, cupping water over Marco’s shoulder so he can kiss him there without inhaling bubbles. His lips move over his boyfriend’s sweet-smelling skin, parting so he can dart his tongue against Marco’s sensitive neck, before he leans in further, wraps his arms back around him, and kisses warmly up to his ear. “Showered last night.”

“Mhm, that’s true,” Marco hums, relaxing into Jean’s embrace, before he reaches for his loofah and presses it against Jean’s face with a laugh. “Wanna scrub my back?”

Jean blows on the sponge before biting at Marco’s ear, grumbling lowly, but he acquiesces and grabs the thing, along with the soap he’s offered. As he spreads soap slowly over Marco’s broad shoulders, he opens his mouth to ask how yoga was, but Marco grins back at him and braces his hands against the cool tile, and then he grinds backward into Jean’s lap as he arches his back out for Jean to wash.

After choking on his own breath for a good few seconds, Jean flicks his gaze back to Marco’s and gives him a lopsided smile. He runs his free hand through the bubbles coating Marco’s skin, sliding his palm slowly around to his chest, down his stomach, and across his hips. As he presses himself against Marco’s slick back, melting against him, he mirrors the path of his hands with the loofah, washing slowly downwards. Marco hums warmly, still watching Jean over his shoulder, and he squirms beautifully as Jean makes his way down his boyfriend’s tight body.

Grinding his dick shamelessly against Marco’s ass, Jean leans in for more gentle kisses, drinking in his boyfriend’s soft sounds. He’s extra slow when he’s sleepy, though, rocking against Marco, and his hands slip past the brunette’s hard cock and spread soap over his thighs. He bends as he moves, before he drops the loofah entirely and drags his palms up the insides of Marco’s thighs in a languid, hot path.

Marco moans quietly when Jean finally wraps a hand around him, stroking him slowly, lovingly even as he shifts so his cock slides between Marco’s ass cheeks in a way that has them both shivering. Jean adjusts the spray so it rinses the bubbles off Marco’s gorgeous body, his free hand sliding over his slick skin gently, and hums low in his ear.

“C-could probably get out now,” Marco says, rocking back against Jean and licking his lips.

“’S cold out there.”

Laughing softly, Marco reaches back and runs his fingers through Jean’s soaked bangs, pushing them haphazardly out of the blonde’s eyes. “Did you bring lube?”

Jean grins lazily, wiggling his eyebrows, and reaches out of the narrow shower stall for the bottle he’d left on the sink. “Told you getting waterproof would pay off.”

“’Course,” Marco chuckles, catching his boyfriend’s lips when he leans forward to kiss him slowly, slipping his tongue between his lips with a soft sigh. The arch of his back makes it hard for Jean to pull away from him, especially with how warm the brunette is against him,  but he does so and pushes the spray of the water to the side just enough.

“God, Marco,” Jean mumbles, setting the lube on the shelf for a moment so he can run his hands down Marco’s back, fingers curling around his hips, before he squeezes Marco’s ass reverently, breathing a ragged moan into the humid air between them. “How do you look this damn good?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Marco wiggles his hips back at Jean with a wide grin, licking his lips at the way it makes his boyfriend choke and squeeze more firmly.

Jean gives his ass a soft little swat, mostly just for the purr it wrings out of Marco, before he reaches for the lube again and slicks his fingers. “Eager much?”

“You started it.” Marco spreads his thighs and hums quietly when Jean reaches between them, slipping his fingers over his entrance with a low groan, and leans forward against the cool tile. His teeth worry at his flushed lips, letting Jean move at his own pace for now. Jean kisses along Marco’s shoulder again, nuzzling into his wet hair as he slides his finger slowly into the brunette, working him open in gentle thrusts. The shower serves to keep them warm, still running over Jean’s shoulder and down Marco’s side, the sound almost loud enough to cover Marco’s breathy moans as he rocks back against his boyfriend’s finger.

Getting the picture, Jean eases a second finger into him, leaning back to watch the way Marco looks taking his fingers. He exhales slowly, the sound soft and rough, his brain still sluggish in the heat, and twists his wrist so he can press his fingers firmly against Marco’s prostate. Marco jumps and moans, arching back for more as he throws a heated glance over his shoulder. He holds out, though, as impatient as he is to feel Jean inside of him, because the way the blonde’s eyes are moving over him is almost dizzying. Glazed, dark with lust, memorizing every detail of Marco’s slick skin under his hands as he moves his fingers deeper and curls them again… Marco moans his name softly and reaches back for him. Jean catches his hand, twining their fingers, and presses against him again with a sigh.

He works a third finger into Marco and whispers half-conscious praises in his ear, pressing their hands against the tile, his cock rubbing against Marco’s hip in slow, even thrusts, a mix of his own need and a teasing preview. Marco shivers and rolls his hips back, growing more impatient. He arches further, a soft whimper escaping his parted lips, when Jean slides his fingers out and reaches for the lube again. Jean chuckles softly, biting Marco’s earlobe gently as he slicks himself with lube, and when Jean moves back against him, Marco’s already bent just right and more than ready.

Jean steadies his cock against Marco, pressing against him, and whispers, “Okay?” Marco nods quickly, licking his lips, before Jean kisses his cheek and sinks into him in slow, even thrusts. Biting his lip around a shaky moan, Marco’s fingers squeeze Jean’s and slide against the tile, his eyes fluttering shut and his breath hitching harder the more Jean fills him up. Jean’s own breathy moans flutter hot over Marco’s ear, sending chills down his spine, until he bottoms out and wraps his free arm tightly around Marco’s waist. “Fuck, baby…”

“’S good, Jean,” Marco murmurs, circling his hips back and shivering at the way Jean hits him, deep and perfect. Jean sighs against Marco’s neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against his pulse and trailing his lips over the angle of his jaw, before Marco quietly urges him to move. Mumbling his assent, Jean brings Marco’s knuckles to his lips and kisses them softly before he settles both of his hands on the brunette’s hips and holds him gently in place. He grinds up into him teasingly at first, relishing the way Marco’s ass feels against his hips, before he pulls back and starts thrusting into him, slow and firm and at just the right angle to have Marco shaking.

Marco relaxes against Jean, knowing his boyfriend’s got him, and breathes a hitching moan against the fogged tile, his impatience falling away again now that he has what he wanted. Jean’s moving into him purposefully, trying to hide his soft whimpers against Marco’s shoulder, his hands coaxing Marco into rocking back into his even thrusts, and Marco’s perfectly content to let Jean guide him higher, giving himself over to him.

“M-Marco, so ‘mazing, love,” Jean rumbles against him, settling Marco into his steady rhythm before he reaches around and wraps his slick hand back around his cock, stroking him in time. The brunette whines softly, leaning his cheek against the tile, the chill brightening the flush already spread across his cheeks. “Feels so good, ‘s tight… god, you’re incredible.” Marco shivers slightly, doing his best to keep Jean’s rhythm, but his boyfriend’s words breathed low to him are distracting, and his breath’s starting to pick up as he succumbs to the pleasured fog spreading over him, Jean’s thrusts filling him up and sliding inside him just right. He moans again, the sound colored with Jean’s name, and as the blonde wraps his arm around him again, holding him still against his narrow chest, Marco squeezes around him with a soft gasp.

Jean’s breath shudders before he moves a little faster, a little harder, his hand on Marco’s cock keeping perfect time. Marco shifts his knuckle to his mouth so he can chew on it, squeezing his eyes shut, his moans slipping freely from between his parted lips and doing well to encourage his boyfriend.

Whispering to Marco, pressing soft praises and sweet love into the crook of his neck, Jean gives him more, following the hitch of Marco’s voice and the quickness of his panting breaths to ease him higher, drive him crazier, bring him closer. He knows just how to get to Marco, just how to move into him and just when to speed up, when to pull his sensitive foreskin back and toy with the dripping head of his achingly-hard cock, and he uses this knowledge to great advantage. He can feel Marco shaking around him, rocking back into his thrusts, tightening around him and tensing against him the way he does when he’s close, and the pitch of his moans and the desperate little whines of Jean’s name confirm how good he’s feeling. Jean moans against him, biting at his ear and slipping his thumb over his slit just as he grinds firmly against Marco’s sweet spot, and he’s rewarded with the way his boyfriend’s breath hitches, before it trails out in a trembling, needy little moan.

As Marco melts against the shower wall, his voice sweet and his orgasm rushing over him in warm waves, Jean whimpers and thrusts into him again, quick, deep little thrusts that coax him over the edge as well. He holds Marco against his chest and gasps as he comes inside him, his arms pressing them tight together and holding him close, as close as they can possibly be, grinding into him again as he starts coming down.

Marco sighs happily, licking his lips and arching back against Jean, meeting every little movement of his hips gladly. He’s still fuzzy from coming too, warm and content and so relaxed, still shivering in the aftershocks with the way Jean’s cock feels inside him, but he lets Jean stay buried deep until he’s stopped shaking. The blonde runs his hands over Marco’s stomach, his hips, quietly worshiping his body even as he slips out of him. He reaches for the showerhead again and pulls Marco into the spray, washing both of their come off of him before he turns the water off.

Humming quietly, Jean lets Marco turn around and kiss him deeply, wrapping his arms around his shoulders with a soft chuckle. “I say,” he mumbles, his hands sliding over Marco’s skin, fingers slipping in trickling drops of water, “We go back to bed, take a nap, and then have more sex.”

“Mm, I think I could be convinced,” Marco laughs, pushing Jean’s bangs off his face again as he kisses him.

“Can you think of a better way to spend a Saturday?”

“Not really, no,” the brunette admits, reaching out past Jean for a towel, which he drops on his boyfriend’s head playfully.

Once they’ve dried off, they stick diligently to the plan, and spend the entire afternoon pressed together or within arm’s reach, lulled to drowsiness by the warm sun filtering across the sheets.

Chapter Text

It’s not the first time Jean’s woken up with morning wood grinding lazily between his ass cheeks. Shit, with Marco around, it’s pretty much a given. He’s a snuggler through and through. Pair that with a pretty severe case of the half-asleep hornies, well. Powerful morning wood.

It’s not even the first time he’s woken up sandwiched between two dudes. The first time they’d invited Eren into their bed, he’d pretty much booked it right after. In his defense, it was two in the afternoon, and he was already ten minutes late for his last final. He’d come back for delayed snuggles afterwards, anyway. The next few times, he’d gladly stayed the night, citing ‘broken heating at home’ as his excuse. In August. Right.

So waking up warm and cozy and stuffed between two boys, one of whom is exactly one-third awake in the brain and two-thirds awake in the dick, isn’t new territory.

Jean stretches as much as he can, digging under his pillow until he finds his phone. Eren burrows further into his neck with a lazy grump, his arm sprawled over Jean’s narrow waist to reach Marco’s idly-shifting hips. They’re all kinds of tangled together, actually. Pulling his phone out, Jean squints one eye at his calendar app, hoping against hope that the day is a blank slate. It’s rainy and cold out, and he’d rather gnaw his own arm off than leave the man sandwich. The middle’s his favorite. Nice and warm, stuck between two toaster ovens. A rock and a hard place, if you will.

As he pokes through his email, Jean curls his free arm around Eren’s shoulders, dragging the tips of his fingers idly over smooth skin. He feels Eren shift again, not entirely awake, just as Marco wedges closer and rubs his morning wood further between Jean’s ass cheeks.

It’s honestly comfortable. Dicks and all.

Being around Marco has always been comfortable for Jean, through all the years they’ve known each other, dating or not. It’s not like he ever felt like something was missing. He loves Marco, and Marco loves him, and they’re genuinely happy together. Disgustingly so.

Throwing Eren into the mix, though…

Jean flicks his eyes away from his email and eyeballs the shaggy tribble nuzzling into his collarbone, trying to avoid all forms of wakefulness.

It was supposed to just be a sex thing. That’s it. Something fun every now and again.

Waking up curled around him, though, his own thigh hitched over Eren’s dark hip and his wiry little body morphed right against Jean’s… fuck, it feels right too. All of it. All three of them.

Jean watches the slow rise and fall of Eren’s breath, his phone screen going dark where it’s dangling behind him. He loves Marco madly. Still does, always will. And Marco’s enough for him, really.

But something in Jean still untangles when Eren’s nearby too. Shit, they were best friends for years before this. Eren was Jean’s stoned gay litmus test before Jean even confessed to Marco in high school. They’ve always been strangely close, and just as comfortable. This particular comfort, though, is run through with these little sparks of Eren’s sharp personality, the pitch-perfect contrast to Marco’s sunny warmth.

Jean wants them both, if he’s really honest.

But Eren’s just a sex thing, right? That was essentially the conversation he and Marco had had before they’d invited Eren in. There’s nothing wrong between them, and they’re still crazy in love, but throwing another set of hands to the grind could be fun. Just a sex thing.

‘Just a sex thing’ doesn’t quite cover the warmth in his chest when Eren squeaks at his cold fingers as they dip back under the blankets.

‘Just a sex thing’ doesn’t quite cover the monstrous crush Jean’s been harboring since before they started this, nor the equally monstrous crush he suspects Marco of carrying. Eren’s too fucking cute not to crush on. They’ve skirted the topic, though, trying to keep things purely physical. After all, Jean and Marco are a couple. Ten years they’ve been a couple. Eren even helped them get up the guts to get together in the first place. It’s Jean and Marco, with a side of Eren.

That doesn’t seem quite right, though. Not when Jean’s breath ruffles spiky brown cowlicks that flick back up to tickle his nose, not when Eren grins widely at his own stupid jokes, not when he bites his lip and casts his gaze to the floor every time he leaves their apartment. There’s something unspoken hanging there, just a breath away. Something to bring them all onto solid ground. There has to be.

It seems kind of stupid for something like love to be so encompassing, but so narrowly-targeted at the same time.

Jean groans and digs the heel of his hand into his eye. This is not a train of thought he should be following this early in the morning, half-asleep and uncaffeinated and slowly growing more interested in Marco’s lazy grinding. He pulls his phone back into his blurry field of view and resumes scanning for immediate responsibilities that endanger his boy cocoon.

“Work?” Marco breathes into Jean’s ear, peering over his shoulder. He’s not entirely awake, Jean can tell. He’s just tracking the light from Jean’s phone, equally invested in this tangle they have going. Survival instinct. He’s got one arm wrapped around Jean’s chest, while his other hand slips up Eren’s arm and across his bony shoulder to play with his shaggy hair.

Jean hums a reply, then chucks his phone right off the bed with a victorious huff when it seems he’s clear to spend the day naked and sweaty. Good thing, too, because Eren’s starting to wake up for some definition as well, and Jean’s not sure any job pays him enough to pull away from the bleary kisses trailing over both sides of his neck.

“No work,” he says quietly, dragging Eren closer with his thigh and reaching back to thread his fingers through Marco’s knotted bedhead.

“No work,” Marco echoes, his grip around Jean’s chest tightening contently.

Eren just grumbles. He’s at the point where he’s either playing shows or busking to pull in cash, so he essentially makes his own hours, or lack thereof.

Letting his eyes slide closed, Jean buries his face in Eren’s hair and sighs slowly, comfort seeping into his bones once more. Eren latches onto the hollow of Jean’s collarbone, sucking lightly at a fresh mark from last night that he finds. His or Marco’s, who knows. It’s bracketed by light imprints of teeth, though, so likely the latter. Jean shivers at the attention, rocking his hips forward against Eren’s and back into Marco’s.

Marco lets his lips wander over the exposed, pale stretch of Jean’s neck, brushing light kisses down unmarked skin. It’s hard for Jean to hide hickeys there, so unless they get particularly carried away, he tries to keep them under the boundaries of his clothes. Eren had learned that unspoken rule quickly, and without having to be told. He’s nothing if not attentive.

Not that Marco isn’t. In fact, he’s particularly attuned to the warm sighs Eren’s breathing out against the crook of Jean’s neck, a slight shiver to them that gives away his approval of Jean’s slow rubbing. Marco smiles and ducks behind Jean’s head, brushing a light kiss into what he can reach of Eren’s hair. Jean lifts his head and obliges Eren’s sudden wiggling, moaning quietly at the sound of Marco and Eren kissing softly right next to his ear.

Eren pulls back with a chuckle and soft nip at Marco’s lower lip, then moves to kiss Jean too, tangling their tongues lazily in time to their rocking hips. His breath hitches with Jean’s when Marco reaches down between them and wraps his hand around their stirring arousals, shifting them around until they’re pressed together so perfectly, until he can stroke them together in his loose grip. They both shiver at the attention, Jean more so when Marco nips at his earlobe. Eren moans against Jean’s lips, the sound ragged and still vaguely sleepy, then brings his hands to Jean’s chest to play with his nipples, light tweaks and squeezes that have Jean whimpering for him.

Keeping his slow rhythm over Eren’s and Jean’s cocks, Marco slides his free hand down between himself and Jean, down over his boyfriend’s still-slick entrance. He traces his fingers over Jean with a low groan, then eases one inside of him, already craving that tight heat around himself. Eren had gotten his turn most of the night, aside from Marco fucking Jean open on his tongue until the blonde had been brainless and desperate. (Not that he’d been complaining, not with Eren’s mouth wrapped firmly around his cock even while he fucked Jean senseless. Turns out, Eren’s a killer multitasker.) Marco twists his finger gently into Jean, listening carefully to the hitch of his quickening breaths as he rides back into his easy rhythm.

“Eager much?” Marco asks quietly, breathing a laugh against Jean’s flushed shoulder. Jean just shivers and moans, then pulls Eren back into a messy kiss, their flushed, fully-hard cocks grinding together with Marco’s patient guidance. “Hey, Eren, grab me a condom?” Marco hums, resting his chin on Jean’s shoulder and flashing Eren a wide smile as he slips a second finger into Jean’s relaxed heat.

Eren nods and arches back to the bedside table, pulling it open and rifling around in it. “Lube too?”

Marco looks to Jean for an answer, but the blonde just groans and shakes his head. “Used like half the bottle last night,” Jean huffs, wriggling back further onto Marco’s fingers. “Thanks to Mr. Coke-can Dick over here.”

“You sure got a funny way of complaining,” Eren laughs, holding the condom out to Marco. He takes over for Marco when the hand holding them slides away, wrapping both of his around their arousals and stroking nice and tight. “I didn’t think ‘more harder please’ meant you were having trouble taking me.”

“Wh-whatever,” Jean groans, pulling Eren back in for more kisses, feasibly to shut him up. He hears Marco rip open the condom behind him, then those wonderful fingers teasing him open slide back out and leave him empty again. Jean whines, but he knows it’s not for long. “H-here, stupid, get up here so I can suck you off,” he mumbles, shaky hands pushing gently at Eren’s hips.

“Hey, wait,” Marco interrupts, leaning his chin on Jean’s shoulder again. “I want some of that too.”

“High demand, huh?” Eren snorts, pulling back and peering at the other two with a contemplative squint. “Tall-ass bastards… okay, okay, I got this. Marco, get in there.”

Marco blinks, then grins widely and looks down to guide himself into his boyfriend. Jean arches and moans as Marco slides into him, filling him up and spreading him open more than he’d anticipated. He’s not complaining, though, not when Marco’s cock arches past his still-sensitive prostate and leaves him whimpering for a moment. Marco grinds up into him, holding his thigh up enough that it leaves Jean nice and open, then looks back over at Eren.

Nodding pensively, Eren leans up onto his knees, staring down at the other two. A little smirk curls over his lips, his hand coming to stroke his cock idly as he murmurs, “Thrust a little.”

Marco arches an eyebrow and chuckles, hitching Jean’s thigh up higher. He does so, though, nuzzling behind Jean’s ear and giving him a few firm, slow thrusts. Jean shivers and melts back against Marco’s chest, one hand coming to grip Eren’s knee weakly, just for the contact. Eren hums, stroking himself a few more times under the guise of ‘planning,’ before he scoots toward the head of the bed.

“Here, Marco, roll onto your back. You can handle him on you, right?”

“He’s light,” Marco replies with a nod, licking slowly up the shell of Jean’s ear before he wiggles them around and manhandles Jean onto his chest. The blonde arches and gasps at the sensation, riding his hips further down onto Marco’s cock, but he spreads his thighs wider and grins breathlessly over at Eren.

Eren hums at the sight, running his free hand appreciatively down Jean’s arched, bony chest. He moves over them then, letting his cock rest on Jean’s face as he straddles their heads, and before he leans down, he laughs, “You two can duke it out.” Then he balances his weight over them on strong arms and ducks to wrap his lips around Jean’s aching length, swallowing him deep and wasting no time in bobbing his head over the blonde’s cock.

Marco catches Eren first, his fingers digging into pale, squirming hips while Jean arches and gasps, rolling up slightly into Eren’s sloppy, perfect blowjob. The movement is just barely enough, enough into Eren’s mouth and enough onto Marco’s cock, that it has Jean whimpering and trembling. Marco, meanwhile, lets Jean squeeze around him while he curves his tongue around Eren’s dripping arousal and sucks sweetly at the head, one hand coming to stroke his shaft slowly. He coerces Eren into dipping his hips further, sliding deeper into Marco’s mouth.

The deep vibrations of Eren’s moans grow more intense around Jean when the blonde leans up and drags his teeth over the smooth join of Eren’s thigh, slipping his tongue over the low arch of his hip and over the thick base of Eren’s cock. Jean tilts his head and, nudging Marco’s hand aside, mouths over what he can reach of Eren’s shaft, moaning softly against his warm skin. Eren pulls off of Jean with a shuddering, satisfied moan, unable to help the lazy grin spreading over his face. “G-goddamn, you two,” he groans, looking between them to try and catch a glimpse of their clever mouths. “Here, Jean, you gotta move,” Eren mumbles, tugging at Jean’s knees until he’s braced enough in the bed that he has full control of his movement.

Marco laughs softly, pulling off Eren’s cock enough to say, “He can’t keep that up too long, gets too shaky.”

“Mm, I saw,” Eren replies, interrupting himself with a rumbling moan when Jean takes advantage of Marco’s distraction and pulls all of Eren into his mouth. “Gets all boneless when he feels good, hmm?”

Jean groans, shifting his hips up toward Eren again, before he tugs pointedly at Eren’s ass, trying to get him to thrust into his mouth. He sucks around him, working his tongue enticingly over heated flesh. Eren knows by now that Jean can handle getting his mouth fucked, so he moans softly before he acquiesces, thrusting lightly into Jean’s incredible mouth. Marco’s hands settle on Jean’s hips again, squeezing gently, and even if he’s rather distracted by Eren’s cock dipping just barely into his throat, Jean figures out an easy rhythm with his hips that has him near brainless.

It’s not that much movement, but Marco’s grinding up into him and moaning in his ear, and he’s thrusting up into Eren’s mouth just as Eren’s thrusting into his, and Marco’s hands are all over both of them, and Jean can’t find it in himself to complain about much of anything, not when he’s stuffed full like this. He swallows around Eren, shivering at the whimpering moan it brings out of him, then pulls off with a gasp when Eren returns the favor.

Marco’s quick on the draw, leaning up and taking the head of Eren’s cock back between his lips. The wicked flicks of his tongue are nearly enough to make Eren crazy, his eyes squeezed shut, hips already shaking in their rhythm. He takes it out on Jean, diving down to take all of his slick, aching arousal into his throat and swallowing, and when his fingers skirt over his entrance, stretched wide around Marco’s thick cock, Jean shudders and gives this beautiful, whimpering little cry. He buries his face against Eren’s hip, his nails dragging down smooth, dark thighs, and just as foretold, he collapses onto Marco in a pile of shaky legs and little whines.

Eren shivers as Marco does that insane tongue movement again, then pulls carefully away and flops to the side with a huff.

Wrapping his arms around Jean’s thin waist, Marco uses his brief freedom to arch up hard, grinning at the way his boyfriend’s body trembles for it. He settles again after a few thrusts, shifting Jean around so he can see Eren, who’s watching eagerly and fisting his slick cock. “You alright over there?” Marco asks breathlessly, running one warm hand up Eren’s slim thigh slowly.

With a small, reluctant laugh, Eren throws his free arm over his eyes and mumbles, “Arms got tired.”

“Hah,” Jean wheezes, although he really has no room to talk, given that he’s boneless and shaking on Marco’s chest and twitching down into his lazy, grinding thrusts.

Eren rolls his eyes and crawls back over to them, pulling Jean into a deep, needy kiss and groaning softly when Marco takes over stroking his cock for him. He’s about to suggest rolling back the way they were when they woke up, working with that, but it seems Marco’s worked up enough that he’s finally found his words.

“Needy little thing today, huh,” Marco murmurs into Jean’s ear, just loud enough that his words send chills down Eren’s spine too. Eren’s nowhere near used to this side of Marco, but he’s over the damn moon about it so far. “You want me to fuck you while you suck Eren’s cock? ‘S that it? Wanna get filled up from both ends?” Jean arches and whines, thrusting his tongue into Eren’s mouth, his fingers twisting desperately into messy brown hair. “Looked so eager sucking him off, love, can tell how bad you want it. Is that it?”

Jean shudders and pulls back just enough to moan his agreement, slipping his tongue over Eren’s lips before whimpering, “P-please, please…”

“Please what?” Eren finds himself asking, his voice hoarse. Marco’s approving hum sends a thrill through him, sharp eyes eagerly devouring Jean’s needy face, Marco’s hand sliding up his chest to rest just under his throat, his thick cock grinding up into the blonde… damn.

“Fuck,” Jean gasps, squeezing his eyes shut. “L-let me suck your damn cock—”

“So impolite,” Marco laughs, his fingers squeezing Jean’s throat gently before he slips them around to wind through sweat-damp blonde hair. He pulls, just enough, and leans up to sink his teeth into the crook of Jean’s neck, pulling a sharp moan from him. He rocks his hips up harder, sucking a dark hickey into Jean’s shoulder, before he shifts his hands to pale hips and pulls out entirely, much to Jean’s dismay.

Before he can do anything about it, Marco rolls them over and grinds up against him again, before he sits back on his heels and gives Jean’s ass a playful slap. Jean groans, burying his face in the sheets. He doesn’t have long to recover, though, not when Eren’s easing him up enough that he can catch his lips again and fuck his tongue into his mouth. Jean arches his back tight, wiggling his ass toward Marco and meeting Eren’s tongue eagerly, spreading his thighs as he reaches for Eren’s cock. Eren swats his hands away and grins widely, bringing one hand up to run gentle knuckles down Jean’s flushed cheek.

“You like it when we play with you, baby?”

Jean blushes darker, biting his lip against a shiver, and stubbornly holds Eren’s gaze. “D-damn teases.”

Eren scoots closer, shifting Jean up until he’s kneeling, and melts against his chest as he kisses him again. Marco hums behind them, sliding his broad hands over Jean’s hips, then over Eren’s sides. He watches them kiss with a low groan, all tongue and teeth, arching forward to rub his arousal idly between Jean’s spread thighs. The blonde shivers at the way his boyfriend’s thick cock drags along the sensitive skin behind his balls, teasing across his entrance, and moans softly into Eren’s mouth. He reaches up and winds his shaking arms around Eren’s neck, pulling him closer, but Eren leans back slightly with a soft nuzzle to repeat his question.

“Teasing you this bad… ‘s it okay?”

Marco chuckles and reaches between them to stroke Jean’s soaked cock lovingly, smiling soothingly at Eren’s barely-masked concern. “You’re really not used to hearing him beg, are you?”

“Can’t say I am,” Eren concedes, cupping Jean’s jaw and dragging his thumb over his cheek.

Nudging Jean slightly, Marco nuzzles his boyfriend’s ear encouragingly until Jean stops biting his lips and reaches up to kiss Eren softly, almost tenderly.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, leaning down to drag hot, wet kisses down Eren’s neck. “Begging is… I like it. S-sometimes.”

“Just don’t want you to feel like we’re gangin’ up on you,” Eren sighs, wrapping one arm around Jean’s chest and squeezing him. Marco watches them with a soft smile, then catches Eren’s free hand and presses a warm kiss into his palm.

For all his rough edges and ribbing teases, Eren’s concern for them both doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s always sure to move between them so everyone’s involved, always careful of limits, always so observant. Jean’s already warm from it, but Marco’s starkly aware of it too, the feeling curling deep in his chest. They can tell Eren cares. Probably far too deeply for ‘just a sex thing.’

Shaking himself out of his head, Marco shifts his hand up to play with Jean’s piercing, slick and dripping with precome already. He leans around and nudges his nose against Eren’s, catching his attention enough to pull him into a warm, deep kiss.

Eren shivers and leans into Marco’s kisses, letting him lick into his mouth soothingly. Marco’s kisses are so loving, so gently dominating that Eren finds himself melting under them, his eyes shuttering closed as their tongues twist together. Jean sighs between them, clinging tighter to Eren and mouthing along his dark shoulder almost reverently.

“C’mon,” Marco whispers, sucking at Eren’s lower lip teasingly. “Don’t have to make him beg if you don’t wanna.”

Eren swallows, then grins, pulling Jean up again to give him a quick, dirty kiss. “I’ll let your ass off easy this time, ‘cause you sounded so good taking it last night.” Jean growls and nips at his lips, pressing their chests closer, but the effect is ruined slightly by his enormous grin. “Need lube now?”

Marco nods in Jean’s place, his fingers dragging over the condom. Eren leans way over, reaching for the drawer again, and finds himself extremely distracted when Jean takes advantage of his distraction and leans down to flick his tongue teasingly through Eren’s slit. Eren grabs the lube and tosses it to Marco, then leans back in and pulls Jean up to his lips again. While Marco slicks himself up and spreads more lube inside Jean, scissoring two slippery fingers into him, Eren kisses him brainless, all teeth and tongue and sloppy and awesome.

At Marco’s gentle insistence, Eren scoots back along the bed, easing Jean down until he’s flat on his stomach between them, thighs spread wide for Marco, weight balanced on his elbows so he’s at just the right height to suck Eren’s cock. He grins up at him, then flicks a crooked smile over his shoulder to Marco, who leans over him and gives him a warm, tender kiss, his dry fingers resting over his arched neck and rubbing soothingly. Marco shifts closer behind Jean, curling his tongue into his mouth, and eagerly swallows his whining moans as he slides his cock back inside of him. Jean gasps and shivers, giving a broken whimper of Marco’s name when the brunette bottoms out. Marco smiles, chills running over his skin at the way Jean feels around him, before he gives him one last quick kiss and leans up again.

Stroking his cock slowly, Eren watches the two of them move, his intense eyes hot with lust, but somehow much softer than usual. He blinks the tender haze away, though, and grins down at Jean, running his thumb over the blonde’s cheek again. As he leans his hips toward him, giving his cock a teasing shake, he says, “This what you want?”

“Thought you said you were letting me off easy,” Jean grumbles, settling comfortably into the sheets.

“Not that easy. Sorry, baby.”

Jean hums, flushing slightly at the pet name slipping more and more frequently from Eren’s lips, before he purrs, “C’mon, can’t tell me you don’t want me to. Much better than fucking your hand.”

“Mm, I’ll give you that. Suck cock like a goddamn work of art,” Eren laughs, running his fingers through Jean’s hair. He leans forward and rests the heavy head of his cock against Jean’s swollen lips, moaning softly when the blonde opens up and takes him right in. He seals his lips around him and sucks, curving his tongue over the head and through the slit, trying to coerce Eren into giving him more. Eren groans and obliges, arching his hips forward and sliding further into Jean’s amazing mouth, watching dazedly as the blonde opens wider and takes everything he’s given, no problem.

Marco’s been content watching this exchange, his hands squeezing gently at Jean’s ass, but the tight heat wrapped around his cock is starting to get to him. He murmurs a soft encouragement to the other two, leaning forward to run the tips of his fingers fleetingly over Jean’s jaw, but then he reaches down and pins Jean’s hips to the bed. He moans as he pulls nearly all the way out, eagerly watching Jean stretch around him, and when he rolls his hips back in, the sound the blonde makes lights a fire in his blood.

Jean’s cries, muffled around Eren’s fat cock, encourage all of them, and Eren finds it in himself to slide further along Jean’s tongue before he pulls back and starts gently fucking his mouth again. Marco leans over Jean and sets up a steady rhythm, following Jean’s pleading little whimpers until he’s pounding evenly into him, leaning his weight onto Jean’s hips and holding him down as he does. Jean’s eyes squeeze shut, his hands fisted tight in the sheets. He does the best he can around Eren’s slowly-thrusting cock, though, hollowing his cheeks and working his tongue over him and trying to pull him deeper, deeper. Eren swallows, almost hesitant, knowing that the thickness of his cock is likely more than enough to gag Jean, but Jean’s dark eyes flash open and pin him with a look that encourages it in no uncertain terms.

With a trembling breath, Eren tangles the fingers of one hand in Jean’s messy hair and thrusts his hips deeper, hitting the back of his throat, and the way Jean’s eyes roll shut confirms how much he fucking loves it.

Marco grins up at Eren and licks his lips, then whispers to catch his attention. Eren leans forward with an eager moan and meets his lips, kissing Marco almost desperately while he fucks Jean’s throat. He moans louder when he feels Jean gag slightly, then moves to pull back, but Jean’s hand shoots up and catches his hip, holding him in place while he swallows around him, then chokes on his girth.

“J-Jesus,” Eren gasps, looking down at Jean and moaning. He pulls back when Jean sees fit to let him, sliding out of his mouth slick with saliva and precome. Jean pulls in a few frantic breaths, licking away the wet strings still stretching between his lips and Eren’s cock, before he dives back in and bobs his head perfectly over his aching arousal. “G-goddamn, Jean, holy shit—”

“Showing off, love?” Marco asks, panting slightly as he rams harder into Jean’s incredible, tight heat, shifting one hand to slap his ass again, then once more, the sound loud in the humid air around them. Jean pulls back and moans loudly at the sting, wiggling back insistently for more. Marco grins and obliges him, shifting his weight to Jean’s lower back so he can bring his hand down a few more times, soothing between slaps with his warm palm. There’s already a bright red mark on the blonde’s ass, but he still whines for more, sucking at the head of Eren’s cock and flicking his tongue over the sensitive spot just under the head.

“D-don’t think I can last like this, fuck,” Eren mumbles, his tone almost disbelieving. He reaches down and squeezes Jean’s reddened ass cheek, rubbing gently to soothe the sting before he leans up and catches Marco’s lips again. “G-gotta get you to fuck me next time, Freckles, goddamn.”

Marco laughs and nips at Eren’s lips, flicking his tongue teasingly between them before he whispers, “I’d love that.” The warm, genuine spark in his heated gaze makes Eren blush further, hiding it in another quick, messy kiss.

Beneath them, Jean pulls off Eren’s cock again and gasps, “F-fuck, Marco, right there right there—” Marco moans in response, giving Jean another quick swat before he fucks him harder, driving his cock right into Jean’s sweet spot in rough, fast thrusts, leaving the blonde boneless against the sheets and crying out desperately for more.

Eren pulls back slightly to watch again, completely entranced by how easily Marco holds Jean down, how deep he’s rutting into him, the way Jean’s reddened ass bounces against Marco’s hips, the way Jean sounds, so needy and shaky… Eren can’t decide if he wants to fuck Jean’s mouth again or kiss him. He settles for jacking himself quickly, watching Jean half-bury his cries in the bed, fingers twisting in the sheets and trembling with every rough thrust.

He manages to hold out until Jean’s noises pitch high and needy, begging louder and louder, slurred closecloseclose just before he throws his head back and wails Marco’s name, every muscle in his body tightening under his boyfriend’s relentless pounding. Marco leans his head back and god, keens breathlessly at the feeling, thrusting deeper into Jean’s tight heat. Jean moans, loud and shaky as he comes, his hips rocking as best they can in Marco’s grip, and as Marco fucks him through it, Jean reaches out for Eren’s hands. Eren pulls his hand off his dick and twines their fingers shakily, Jean tugging Eren brainlessly closer until he can lean his head against him, muffling his needy sounds against dark, tense flesh. He gasps Eren’s name repeatedly, mouthing up his thigh and over his hip, unaware of the way Eren’s watching him, wide-eyed and reverent and fucking mind-blown.

Marco reaches out for him, though, and tugs him forward into a rough, sloppy kiss as he comes, bucking deep into Jean and whimpering and shaking. He gasps Eren’s name as he does, his free hand sliding up Jean’s sweat-slick back and threading gently into damp blonde hair. Eren moans into Marco’s kisses, blown away by how fucking incredible they look and sound. In the few times they’ve been together, it’s never been like this, and it’s making Eren more than a little crazy.

As Marco’s hips slow to a stuttering halt, Eren sucks soothingly at his lips, but Jean’s mouth wrapping around his cock again makes him jolt and gasp. Marco grins at him, fingers curled around the back of Eren’s neck. Jean takes all of him, swallowing around him and bobbing his head eagerly, one hand coming to rub his fingers over his entrance. Eren moans again, burying his face in Marco’s shoulder and rocking up into Jean’s insistent rhythm. Marco’s voice is still breathless, still raspy when he leans in and whispers, “You gonna come for him? Seems like he’s eager to swallow for you, right? C’mon, Eren, come for us, darling—”

Something about the tenderness in Marco’s voice, gently encouraging and still so damn filthy sets Eren reeling, gasping and trembling and pawing at both of them, and when Jean takes him deep and hollows his cheeks and presses against his entrance in demanding little circles, Eren loses it. He buries his sharp, choked moans against Marco’s throat, fingers fisting in Jean’s hair as he comes right down his throat, unable to keep himself from holding Jean’s mouth on his cock until he’s milked dry. If Jean’s wiggling hips are any indication, though, he doesn’t mind in the least, and Marco’s low chuckles confirm it.

Jean lets him slide out of his mouth and licks his lips contentedly, having already swallowed everything Eren had for him. He shoots Eren a bright grin, earning himself a flustered moan from the dazed brunette.

They get themselves cleaned up (mostly Jean, who jizzed roughly everywhere) and flop back into a loose, sweaty snuggle the way they’d woken up. Marco nuzzles into the nape of Jean’s neck and laughs, murmuring, “Such a showoff, love.” Jean turns and kisses him warmly, purring at the hoarse moan Marco lets out at the way Eren tastes in his boyfriend’s mouth.

His legs tangled with Jean’s and, somehow, one of Marco’s, Eren watches them for a moment, quirking half a smile at Marco’s teasing. After a few minutes, though, he squeezes Jean’s hand and rolls away from them to stand and stretch loudly.

It’s about that time again.

“It’s, what, about eleven?” Eren asks, a little too casually. He pulls his underwear on in one quick tug and shoots a sheepish grin over his shoulder. “I’ve, uh. Got a thing, so.” He turns away and pulls his jeans on so he doesn’t quail under Jean’s and Marco’s raised eyebrows, babbling nonsense about his ‘thing’ or whatever bullshit.

“So, see you guys later, yeah?” Eren flashes them a crooked grin and pulls his hoodie on, double-checking to make sure he has everything before he gives them a weird wave and ducks out into the hallway to let himself out.

Jean and Marco exchange a brief glance, then broad grins. Couples’ telepathy makes the decision easy, especially after ten damn years together. They’ve skirted the subject enough to gather that the interest is alive and well. If anything, they’ll talk it over later. Marco slips silently out of bed and sneaks over by the door.

“Hey, Eren,” Jean calls, his voice still a little rough. “You forgot something in here.”

They hear Eren pause, then the brief pat of him checking his pockets again, before he stomps back in with a raised eyebrow. His brow furrows at Marco’s curious absence, but before he can question anything, Marco swoops in behind him and catches him around the waist, hauling him cheerfully back over to the bed.

Once Marco’s deposited him on the sheets and Jean’s wrapped around him like a koala, Eren flusters, but he gives up fairly quickly on escaping once Marco brackets him in too.

Eren fidgets slightly, looking back and forth between them with some measure of alarm. “S-so, what’d I forget?”

“Your turn in the middle,” Marco laughs, nuzzling soothingly into his ear. “Also, breakfast.”

“Relax,” Jean breathes, reaching up to turn Eren’s face toward his. “Stick around for some cuddling or whatever. Yeah?”

Eren licks his lips nervously, but he kicks his shoes back off and slides an arm under Jean’s neck and around his shoulders. “How, uh. How long?”

Marco hums behind him, kissing the sensitive nape of his neck softly. “’S long as you like.”

Nodding his agreement, Jean leans up and kisses Eren gently, dragging the tips of his fingers along his stubbly jaw. He smiles encouragingly, though, and bumps his nose against Eren’s as they settle back into quiet laziness.

Jean and Marco already know what they’re going to ask, but when Eren gets up to take a leak, they discuss it in quiet whispers anyway, happily finding themselves on the same page. Why the fuck not.

Later, while Eren’s got a mouthful of pancakes, they offer him a different sort of invitation.

Chapter Text

“Jean, are you coming?” Marco calls over the movie’s menu music pouring out of the TV, resting his crossed ankles in Eren’s lap on the couch. The only response from the kitchen is a put-upon whine, and what sounds like the thud of a forehead against the table.

Eren pats Marco’s ankles before he shifts them to the couch and stands to move into the kitchen. There, as predicted, Jean’s slumped lifelessly on the table amidst a pile of notes, his thesis blinking at him from his laptop’s bright screen. Resisting a soft smile, Eren shuffles some of Jean’s papers aside and hops up onto the table next to him. “Hi,” he says, pulling at Jean’s earlobe.

“Hnk,” Jean replies miserably.

“Can’t take a break, Bill Nye?”

Jean scoots closer and leans his forehead against Eren’s thigh, shaking his head slightly. “This thing’s time is come.” He sighs when Eren tugs at a cowlick. “Either that, or mine is.”

Eren snorts and ruffles Jean’s hair roughly, eliciting an indignant squawk. “You’re certainly dramatic enough for Interview with the Vampire.”

“Shaddap.” Jean leans up and pushes his glasses up into his disheveled hair, sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend, who grins wolfishly. “Dunno why you guys are watching that 90s crap anyway.”

“Marco likes it,” Eren laughs, his gaze flicking up to where Marco’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone and humming softly. Jean watches Eren’s face as he observes Marco, glad to see long-hidden warmth come over his expression freely. They’re all still getting used to being together, Eren especially, so every time Eren lets his affection for Jean and Marco show instead of letting a twelve-year-old habit squash it, it’s a huge relief.

“Hey,” Jean murmurs, catching Eren’s attention and gesturing him closer for a soft kiss. “I’ll survive in here. Go cuddle with our gay-vampire-loving boyfriend.”

Eren shoots him a crooked smile and kisses him again, running his thumb softly over Jean’s stubbly jaw as he nuzzles him. Catching Eren’s hand, Jean twines their fingers loosely and presses a warm kiss into his palm, gentle and accepting as always.

“Don’t work yourself to death, Heisenberg,” Eren chuckles as he hops off the table, tangling his fingers in Jean’s hair and tugging gently as he moves back out to the couch. He flops down next to Marco and pulls the brunette’s legs back into his lap, scooting closer until Marco’s practically in his lap. “Hey.”

“Hiya,” Marco hums, dropping his phone off the side of the couch and grinning up at Eren. “He’s in the zone, I take it?”

“’Course.”

“Well, he’s never liked Louie’s flair for the dramatic,” Marco says as he tucks some of Eren’s shaggy hair behind his ear.

Eren snorts, catching Marco’s hand and biting playfully at his wrist. “I’m only watching it in hopes you’ll make out with me,” he laughs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You say that,” Marco replies, a particularly evil grin crossing his face as he leans closer. “But I seem to recall a particular poster on the inside of your closet door back in high school.”

Eyes widening, Eren stares at Marco, watching his boyfriend’s grin widen further, tongue poking out between his teeth. “What.”

“That one time in senior year, you and Jean were jamming in your basement while Armin and I were trying to pick majors,” Marco says, poking Eren’s nose gently. “Jean left his grinder at home, so you sent me upstairs to get yours out of your closet so you guys could smoke. That poster must’ve been ten years old at least.” Eren bites his lip around a sheepish grin, running a hand through his hair.

“I like the aesthetic?”

“Mmmhm.” Marco snorts and shifts to straddle Eren comfortably, resting his arms around his neck and tilting his head at him. “Caught you.”

Eren laughs and leans back into the couch, lacing his fingers in the small of Marco’s back. “Caught me.” He flicks his gaze aside for a second, a wince crossing his face, but before Marco can catch his eye again, he asks, “You, uh. Didn’t find anything else in there, did you?”

Blinking and leaning back, Marco shakes his head. “Nothing that sticks out. Why?”

“Skeletons,” Eren wheezes, reaching up to cup Marco’s cheeks as his own flush slightly. “It’s just, uh. I’m pretty sure the era of the Interview with the Vampire poster was the same as the era of the big purple dildo.”

Marco’s own eyes widen, before he finds himself incapable of containing his giggles. Soft snorts turn into riotous cackling fairly quickly, though, and Marco buries his laughter in Eren’s hair and clings to him warmly. Eren just smirks, cheeks still bright red, and digs his fingers into Marco’s trembling ribs, making the laughter that much worse.

“You’re one to laugh, Marco,” Jean calls from the kitchen, the amusement lacing his voice a clear indicator that he’d heard the entire conversation.

“Hey, he’s right,” Eren says, turning quickly to pin Marco to the couch and tickle him further. Marco squirms under him, squeezing his narrow hips between his thighs and honest-to-god squeaking. “I recall hearing something about purple stowaways to Italy?”

“Hey now,” Marco laughs, ruffling Eren’s hair with both hands. “What was I supposed to do for an entire semester? It’s better than nothing.”

“Mm, point,” Eren replies, resting his weight on his elbows above Marco. He lets his boyfriend pull him down and kiss him soundly, still chuckling against him. Marco flicks his tongue between Eren’s lips and nibbles at them, wrapping around him contently. He sighs as Eren runs his knuckles down Marco’s cheek, holding his tender gaze easily, and smooths his hands over Eren’s broad shoulders.

“You know,” Marco hums, slipping one palm around to Eren’s chest, fiddling with the loose fabric of his shirt. “I’ve liked you a long time. Especially since closet vampires.”

Eren smiles and nods, nudging his nose against Marco’s.

Jean and Marco are both waiting for Eren to drop the big L-word first, knowing he’s still nervous. They’ve made it crystal clear how they feel about him, each more than willing to extend the sentiment, but Eren’s never said the words to anyone that isn’t his mother, his sister, or Armin. ‘I’ve liked you for a long time’ is their comfortable compromise, a mouthful of a statement that covers for Eren’s skittishness around a four-letter word all of them feel for each other, between each other and all together.

Eren’s loved them both since they were thirteen, that much has become clear. Jean and Marco are slowly allowing themselves to recognize emotional twinges toward Eren they’ve felt in the past few years as well, and as they open themselves up to the idea, they’re finding a surprising amount of those moments.

“Ohhh, my god,” comes a sudden warble from the kitchen. Eren pokes his head up above the arm of the couch, watching Jean slouch in his chair. “It’s fucking snowing.”

“Ooh,” Marco chirps, quite the opposite of Jean’s despair. “Like slush snowing?”

“No, like big fat white flakes snowing.”

Biting his lip, Eren squints out the living room window, thinking about his bike stashed in the hallway. “Is it sticking?”

Jean pauses for a moment, probably checking the ground. “Yup. Pretty bad. Looks like you’ll have to stay the night again,” he says finally, mischief evident in his tone.

Rolling his eyes, Eren scratches at the nape of his neck and blinks back down at Marco. “Hope I’m not—”

“If you say ‘imposing,’” Marco warns, pinching Eren’s cheeks playfully. He soothes the soft sting with his palms and brings Eren down for another soft kiss. “You don’t have to stay if you really don’t want to,” he murmurs against Eren’s lips, running gentle fingers though his messy hair. “But we really love being with our boyfriend. ‘S three of us, you know?”

“Boyfriends can’t impose, anyway. Physical impossibility,” Jean chimes in, his keyboard ticking rapidly despite his constant contribution.

Eren swallows and sighs, flicking his gaze between Jean’s hunched back and Marco’s warm expression before he nods slightly. Marco’s smile widens, thanking Eren quietly around a dozen gentle kisses, his legs wrapping more securely around his wiry waist to bring him closer. Faced with Marco’s enthusiastic affection, it’s impossible for Eren not to relax, a smile spreading over his face as he melts.

“Wanna watch this stupid movie?” Eren asks after a while, his voice rough until he clears his throat of it.

Laughing again, Marco tugs Eren to his chest and unabashedly snuggles him, kissing his ear noisily. “Yes, please.”

He lets Eren sit up and slouch into the couch, wrapping his arm around Marco’s shoulders when the brunette scoots up to his side and crosses his legs under himself.

The snow falls outside as Marco and Eren sit through angst-ridden bayou vampires, laced fingers resting on Marco’s knee, Eren’s free arm resting around him and playing with his soft black hair while Jean smashes his face against his laptop in the kitchen. They make it through about half the movie before Marco leans over and nuzzles into Eren’s ear, sucking softly on his earlobe with a low laugh.

“Tired of Louie’s crying already?” Eren asks, scratching his nails gently through the short hair at the nape of Marco’s neck.

“You were the one who wanted to make out, if I remember,” Marco hums, kissing Eren’s cheek before he leans back into the couch and pretends to turn his attention back to the movie. Eren’s ears are incredibly sensitive, though, and now that Marco’s stirred him up, he’s finding it hard to focus on tormented vampires. Marco absolutely knows that. The sneaky smile he’s wearing says as much.

“You’re a big cheater.” Eren slides his fingers slowly from Marco’s neck to the angle of his jaw, turning his head enough that he can nudge their noses together. His smile widening, Marco wiggles his eyebrows and tilts his jaw toward Eren, waiting for him to lean in. It takes a moment, but Eren does, brushing his lips against Marco’s softly.

His reward is a lapful of extremely pleased boyfriend, Marco’s hands tilting Eren’s face up so he can rain kisses on him, over his lips and his cheeks and his nose, oblivious to the brunette’s sputtering. Eren holds him close, though, catching his lips to deepen his kisses wonderfully, slipping Marco his tongue and nipping at his lips.

When Marco purrs and rocks his hips down firmly, Eren’s breath hitches, his hands fisting in Marco’s shirt before they slip under, his fingers rough against his boyfriend’s soft, warm skin. He rides up into Marco’s easy rhythm, his kisses deep and eager, palms traveling up Marco’s back, his ribs, his sides. Marco knows just how to get to him, tangling their tongues and grinding into his lap and humming against his lips. He shifts slightly, grinning at the soft moan Eren lets out when he rubs their half-hard cocks together with a sultry little swivel of his hips.

“D-damn,” Eren mumbles, sliding his hands up Marco’s chest to rub his thumbs over his boyfriend’s nipples. “So much for making out.”

“You look good, what can I say,” Marco hums, arching into Eren’s fingers and shivering. “Mm, E-Eren, that feels nice…”

With a crooked smile, Eren pinches Marco’s nipples between his fingers and rocks his hips up against him, leaning up when Marco tilts his head back with a low moan to mouth up the pretty arch of his throat. He slides one arm down around Marco’s waist and holds him securely while he drops his other hand to his boyfriend’s cock, palming at his arousal through his pants. Kissing slowly across warm skin, Eren sucks gently at Marco’s pulse and squeezes him, reveling in the way Marco melts in his lap with a little moan of his name.

Marco drapes himself over his boyfriend and sighs shakily into his ear, nibbling gently at the angle of his jaw as he rocks up into Eren’s palm. Lacing his fingers over the back of Eren’s neck, Marco kisses his temple idly, then nudges him up until he can catch his lips again, sighing contently as Eren kisses him eagerly. He gladly lets Eren slip his tongue into his mouth, the sweet, overpowering kind of kiss Eren falls into once he’s comfortable, when he feels more sure of himself. It’s easy to let Eren take control of their kiss with this confident spell he casts, the warmth of it leaving Marco trembling in Eren’s lap. He presses up into Eren’s hand again, whining at the friction of too many damn clothes between them.

“H-hey,” Marco mumbles, following Eren slightly when he pulls away, licking his kiss-flushed lips.

“Yeah? ‘S this—”

“It’s okay.” Running his hands soothingly through Eren’s hair, leaving it even messier, Marco grins and bites his lip before he asks, “Let me suck you off?”

Watching Eren react to Marco’s forthcoming nature about sex has been nothing if not hilariously adorable. Somehow, he still turns a little purple and chokes when faced with Marco’s bluntness. He’s getting quicker at recovering, though, and clears his throat before responding.

Even though they’ve had this conversation, Marco’s fully expecting Eren to ask if it’s okay again, or to fidget and stare into the kitchen, so when he just rasps, “Please?” Marco’s more than happy to show Eren how pleased he is. He grins widely and reaches between them, palming firmly at Eren’s cock where it’s straining against his jeans and bites his lip.

Marco wastes no time in unfastening Eren’s pants and tugging his hard cock out, stroking him and licking his lips as he does. The fire in his eyes has obvious effects on Eren, whose lips part on a ragged sigh, cock twitching in Marco’s hand. He rests his hands on Marco’s knees, making no move to rush him, especially not with as much as he’s enjoying the way his boyfriend stares down at him, squeezing him and stroking him and practically fucking him with his gaze.

He’s so absorbed in Marco’s crooked little smirk that he doesn’t hear footsteps behind the couch, doesn’t hear himself being flanked until Jean’s chilly hand dips under Eren’s chin and tilts his head up for a deep, bitey kiss. Eren groans and reaches up to run his fingers through tangled blonde hair, kissing him back just as aggressively.

Jean pulls back and grins, nipping at Eren’s lips as he asks, “Can I help?”

“Fuck yeah,” Eren rasps, flushing when Marco chuckles at the way his cock twitches. Marco slips his thumb through slick precome, licking his lips and smiling widely. Jean vaults over the back of the couch and kisses Eren again, quick and dirty, before he pulls away to push the coffee table back enough to make room. He leans back in and flicks his tongue over Marco’s lips, then rips his shirt off and unbuttons his pants enough that he can tug his own half-hard cock out.

When Jean tugs Marco out of Eren’s lap and pulls his shirt off too, leaning in for another messy kiss, Eren moans softly and slinks down into the couch, spreading his thighs and stroking his cock slowly. He watches Jean fuck his tongue into Marco’s mouth and unfasten his too-tight pants, pushing them and his underwear down and helping him kick them aside. They don’t put on much of a show yet, though, instead flashing Eren lecherous grins and pulling his thighs apart enough that they can both kneel between them.

“O-o-oh, my god, are you—” Eren stammers, lifting his hips dazedly so Marco can pull his pants down and off. He chokes again when Jean wiggles his eyebrows, reaching up to nudge Eren’s hand off his cock so he can stroke him firmly. “Are you both—” Marco leans in beside Jean and drags his tongue over the head of Eren’s cock, humming at the taste of his now-dripping precome. “Y-you’re really—”

“Oh my god, Eren,” Jean laughs, sliding his hand down to rub at the base so Marco can take Eren into his mouth, his soft tongue already working him over perfectly. “It’s not like we’ve never sucked your dick before. You gonna die up there?”

Nodding vacantly, Eren wheezes, “Do you even know how many wet dreams I’ve had about this?”

Marco hums, then pulls off and licks his flushed lips with a grin. Jean picks up his slack, hollowing his cheeks around Eren and flicking his pierced tongue against him, watching with warm, amused eyes as Eren melts under the attention. “You’ll have to tell us all about your wet dreams,” Marco laughs, dragging teasing nails through the dark, thick curls leading down from Eren’s navel. “Take your shirt off.”

Swallowing audibly, Eren does, throwing it somewhere before he reaches behind his head and grips the back of the couch like an anchor, strong arms tensing every time Jean takes him deep. He curses softly, his heavy breath mixing beautifully with the wet sounds of Jean’s mouth. Marco looks him over slowly, obviously appreciating the incredible view, then nudges Jean’s cheek with his nose, gladly taking over when the blonde pulls off. Eren moans at the shift, struggling to keep his hazy eyes open so he can watch.

Marco’s mouth is different from Jean’s, just as hot but slower, more even, softer than Jean’s clever, pierced tongue. He sucks steadily, maddeningly, taking Eren just as deep but pulling back further, where Jean likes to swallow around him and, if he’s worked up enough, choke on him. Marco’s tongue curls around him, moving against him, swirling broadly around the head, where Jean drives him crazy with the tip and with his piercing. Eren could probably write books on the unbelievable things these boys do to him.

For now, he’s still kind of processing that this is happening, that he’s actually allowed to have the things he’s jizzed himself dreaming about, on top of being allowed to have the things he used to hate himself for wanting so badly. Things like Jean grinning up at him, his glasses pushed haphazardly into his hair, whispering ‘I like you’ until Eren’s comfortable enough to let Jean say what he really means. Things like Marco sliding his hands up Eren’s tight stomach, spreading his fingers over his ribs, his touch gentle and his gaze ridiculously loving for someone who’s actively swallowing his cock. Things like holding hands, cuddling together against the cold, helping make dinner for the three of them. Things like waking up squished between Jean and Marco and not feeling like he’s intruding, an instinct he’s slowly leaving behind with the eager help of his boyfriends.

Eren shakes his head slightly to clear it, determined to take to his grave the fact that he just got intensely emotional over blowjobs.

(He knows it’s not the blowjobs.)

He’s brought back down to planet Earth when Marco hollows his cheeks around him and sucks up to the tip, laving his tongue over the head with a low hum, and Jean leans in and mouths wet and messy up his thick shaft, using his piercing to drag rough moans out of Eren. When his lips brush Marco’s, the brunette pulls off with a slick pop, then leans in again to kiss Jean as best he can with the head of Eren’s cock between their lips and their tongues. Eren shivers, his hips arching just slightly as he gasps. “F-fuck,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening in the fabric of the couch. “Th-thought they only did that in porn.”

“Mm,” Marco laughs, licking his lips and grinning up at Eren. “What’s so bad about that?”

“Fucking nothing,” Eren replies quickly, eyes widening. “I just didn’t think it’d feel that good, goddamn. Thought it was for show.”

Jean runs his tongue up the thick length of Eren’s cock, teasing his piercing against areas he knows are sensitive before he switches to stroking slowly, firmly, twisting his wrist just to make his boyfriend shake. “Did it look good?”

“You have no fucking idea,” Eren breathes, his eyelids shuttering closed as he rocks up into Jean’s tight fist. “B-better than any dream, no lie.”

While Jean’s distracting him, Marco digs under the cushion Eren’s perched on, feeling around for the lube and condoms he knows are stashed down there. Jean grins at him, pulling him into a quick, hot kiss once he finds them. “What’re you thinkin’, babe?”

Marco grins and looks over his shoulder at the coffee table, then tilts his head toward it. “Think that thing can take me and him?”

“If you don’t get too excited, yeah,” Jean replies, running his free hand over Marco’s flushed cheek and kissing him again, sucking gently at his lower lip. “It’s had worse.”

Marco hums his agreement, nuzzling Jean for a moment before he slinks back up onto the couch, where Eren’s watching them with a dazed expression, still gripping the cushion behind him with shaky fingers. Marco leans in and kisses Eren warmly, taking advantage of his brainlessness to slip his tongue between his bitten lips with a soft groan. Eren lets go of the upholstery and slips one half-numb arm around Marco’s waist, tugging him closer. He pauses with a hitched gasp, though, and squeezes his eyes shut when Jean wraps his lips around him again, all wet and messy and wonderful.

Grinning widely, Marco threads his fingers through Jean’s hair and tugs encouragingly, his own cock twitching when Jean takes all of Eren in and swallows around him, then again, a muffled hum escaping as he pulls back and bobs his head again. Eren gives a stuttering moan and nudges his face against Marco’s, panting quietly and shivering. Marco wraps his arms around Eren’s shoulders and nuzzles him soothingly, watching the way he shakes for another moment longer before he seeks his attention again.

He eases Eren up until he can catch his lips, quick and dirty, then whispers, “Can I ride you?”

“F-fuck,” comes Eren’s eloquent response, rendered briefly helpless by something insane Jean’s doing with his tongue. “Y-yeah, yeah, please,” he gasps once Jean lets him think again, bringing both hands to Marco’s face so he can kiss him, deep and intoxicating and perfect. Marco melts against him again, echoing his soft moans.

Jean reaches up and nudges Marco’s hip, breaking Eren’s spell for a moment until the brunette gets the picture and kneels over Eren’s lap, grinning down at him and biting his lip. He leaves Jean enough room to keep sucking Eren off, rubbing his cock idly against his boyfriend’s tight stomach while Jean pops open the lube and slicks his fingers for him. Eren’s eyes shutter closed again, leaning forward to drag hot, open-mouthed kisses across Marco’s chest until he can suck and bite gently at one of his nipples. Marco whines and wiggles at the feeling, arching his ass back toward Jean insistently.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Jean flicks the tip of his tongue over the sensitive spot just below the head of Eren’s cock as he reaches up and rubs slick fingers over Marco’s entrance, moaning at how easily Marco relaxes for him. He works one finger slowly into him and bobs his head over Eren in time with his languid thrusts, rewarded generously by both of his boyfriends’ shaky moans of his name.

Eren shifts his hands to Marco’s ass, squeezing firmly with a soft groan as he goes back to flicking his tongue over Marco’s nipple, biting and sucking and teasing as best he can with Jean’s mouth still moving over him so damn nicely. He kisses across to the other and gives it the same treatment, smiling at the way Marco whimpers and clings to him, back arched so pretty, biting his lip and rocking back onto Jean’s finger. He gives an encouraging moan when Jean works a second finger into him, leaning his head back.

“J-Jean, fuck,” Eren mumbles, sliding one hand around so he can drag his palm up Marco’s chest, trailing his fingers carefully up his exposed throat. Marco’s starting to sweat slightly, his skin slick and gorgeous in the low light, the lines of his neck and his collarbones and his chest more than a little tempting. Eren swallows, licking his lips, then tries to catch Jean’s attention again. “Jean, n-no way I’m gonna last ‘f you keep that up, baby. ‘S too good.”

Jean hums, but he pulls off, giving Eren a few loose strokes as he presses a third finger into Marco. He takes his time working him open, knowing he’s not gonna be patient enough to adjust around Eren’s thick cock, not with the way he’s already riding back onto Jean’s fingers. It’s a miracle Marco’s been patient this long, but it might have something to do with the way Eren’s petting him, soothing his hands over shaky muscles, his reverent gaze trying to take in how fucking good Marco looks like this. Jean grins up at them both, spreading his fingers gently and curling them into Marco’s prostate.

As anticipated, the way Marco gasps and arches, the face he makes, the way his hands tighten on Eren’s shoulders all leave Eren speechless, his toes curling against the carpet. He licks his parted lips and looks helplessly down at Jean, who just leans down and kisses over Eren’s knee with a maddening sort of smirk. He knows damn well how Eren looks at them when his brain’s melting out of his ears. Not a few times, he’s caught Eren looking at both of them like that when they’re all together. It’s one of the few expressions Eren can’t ever really hide. It’s definitely one of the ones that gave him away. Made the decision to ask him to go steady that much easier.

Eren had gotten good at hiding his affectionate glances, his warm smiles, the tender little shine to his eyes, but he never could hide his blindingly lovestruck expression once they all started sleeping together. It’s like he doesn’t even realize how he looks at them.

Jean hums and scissors his fingers again, then deems Marco as ready as he’s getting, what with the brunette’s impatient whines and the rolling of his hips. He stands and leans in over Marco’s shoulder, kissing him warmly, eagerly swallowing his needy little moans. “Still wanna do the coffee table?” he whispers against Marco’s lips, looking over at Eren and smiling widely when Marco nods quickly.

“Wh-what about you?” Eren mumbles, sitting up straight so he can tug Jean down to kiss him too. Between kisses, he manages, “I’ll suck you off, ‘f you want, or I can—”

“Can I just watch for a bit?” Jean asks, resting his hand on Eren’s cheek. “Wanna see you two. We can figure it out from there.”

Marco whimpers, turning and sucking desperately at Jean’s pulse. Jean knows Marco loves being watched, even if he’s never admitted it out loud. Drives him crazy. Eren’s picking up on the fact too, based on the way a wolfish grin spreads over his face, reaching around to squeeze Marco’s ass tightly. Jean collapses next to them on the couch and puts his glasses back on, jerking his chin toward the coffee table.

He’d expected Marco to stand up, to pull Eren after him, but apparently Marco had stalled just a second too long, and apparently Eren’s much stronger than anyone gives him credit for. He scoots forward on the couch, coaxing Marco into wrapping his legs around him, then goes right ahead and stands up, lifting Marco like he doesn’t weigh a damn thing. Marco squeaks and clings tightly to Eren, staring wide-eyed down at his grinning boyfriend.

Jean’s gaping as well, having grossly underestimated Eren despite years of wrestling with him (and generally losing). He watches Eren edge over to the coffee table, then carefully lower himself onto it, Marco safely in his lap and still staring widely at him. That doesn’t last long, though.

Marco reaches back and waves his hand insistently at Jean for a condom, casting an impatient stare over his shoulder until his boyfriend obliges. He stuffs it between his teeth and shifts around until he’s kneeling over Eren, nearly manhandling him until he’s sprawled lengthwise over the wood, unconcerned about the chill against his shoulders. Marco fumbles the condom out of the wrapper, shaking hands rolling it onto Eren’s cock and slicking it with more lube at Jean’s behest, but that is absolutely the end of his composure. He braces his knees on either side of Eren and reaches down to steady him, then impatiently drops onto him, leaning his head back with a loud, shaky, “F-fuck.”

When he tries to move right away, Eren reaches up and grabs his hips, holding him firmly down onto his cock. The restraint just drives Marco crazier, twitching against Eren’s hands and leaning back to brace his hands between Eren’s trembling thighs.

“F-fuck, Marco, j-just—ah—a second, a s-second, you’re gonna make me come—”

With a huff, Marco reluctantly agrees, rocking his hips as much as he can against Eren’s strong grip. On the couch, Jean’s trying just as hard not to come, gripping the base of his neglected cock tight and moaning softly. Getting Marco this worked up is probably his favorite damn thing, and the opportunity to see it like this, well. It’s fucking awesome. He watches Eren struggle to get himself under control, dropping his head back onto the table with a thud. By the time Marco’s pleading breathlessly, his thighs twitching urgently, Eren’s about as ready as he’s gonna get.

He smirks up at Marco, squeezing his hips and rasping, “I am gonna f-fucking pick you up every chance I get. Especially in public.”

“He’s really easy to sneak up on,” Jean supplies helpfully, crossing his legs under himself before he gives his cock a few loose tugs. Eren grins over at him, watching his hand move for a moment, before he focuses his attention back on his desperate, squirming boyfriend.

“C-conspiring against me,” Marco whines, swiveling his hips minutely. “C-come on, Eren, p-please, let me ride you, please…”

“G-goddamn,” Eren moans, biting his lip. He closes his eyes for a second, either gathering his strength or facing his mortality, before he lets go of Marco’s hips entirely and shifts his hands to the brunette’s thighs, where all he can do is squeeze encouragingly.

Marco takes immediate advantage of his newfound freedom, arching his hips up almost off Eren’s cock, and just as Eren breathes a low moan at the way his dick looks stretching Marco open, Marco impales himself again with a shaky cry. He picks up a quick, rough rhythm bouncing in Eren’s lap, moaning noisily for him and arching his back and shivering, fucking himself just right, just how he needs it. Eren arches and whines, but Marco’s riding him so hard he doesn’t even have to move, not when his boyfriend’s slamming himself down onto him and grinding even further and squeezing tight around him.

Jean watches Marco fuck himself on Eren, his soaked cock slapping wetly against Eren’s stomach, gasping his name and shaking and wringing the most perfect noises out of both of them. Eren’s hands find their way back to Marco’s hips, gripping tightly and pulling him down harder, driving him crazier with his strength. His eyes are glued to Marco, to his flushed face and his bitten lips and his tensing stomach, to where he’s taking Eren’s cock so nicely, so well he’ll probably be sore in the morning. He’s obviously not thinking about that, though, not when Eren’s hitting him just right, pulling at him with rough hands and moaning his name, catching Marco’s fervor like wildfire.

It’s an excellent show.

Once Marco’s rhythm starts faltering, once he’s left himself and Eren sloppy with his precome, once his voice pitches desperate the way it does when he’s close, Jean hauls himself off the couch and moves over to them. He fists his hand in Marco’s hair and tugs his head back, leaning down to kiss him roughly, fucking his tongue into his mouth and swallowing his needy whines. He pulls back, though, and stands up straight, his flushed cock arching tense out of his jeans.

“Jack me off.”

Marco shifts his weight quickly, balancing on one hand so he can keep dropping his hips onto Eren. He whimpers at the way Eren’s cock nails his sweet spot, driving him past coherency, then brings his free hand up to Jean’s cock and strokes him tight and quick. He leans his head back and cries out as Eren finds his strength and bucks up into him, taking control of Marco’s shaky hips with his strong hands and fucking him brainless.

His grip stutters more the closer he gets, blinking up at Jean with barely-focused eyes, but the hand in his hair tightens and leaving him gasping, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to keep from coming right then.

“Make me come, M-Marco,” Jean breathes, unabashedly watching the brunette melt into Eren’s ramming thrusts, completely giving his control over to his boyfriends. “’M almost there, fuck you two look good.”

“J-Jean,” Eren gasps, arching into Marco’s tight heat, holding him still so he can pound his cock up into him. “F-fuck, ‘m gonna come, s-so good, Marco—”

Marco whines, looking down at Eren and biting his lip, spreading his thighs wide so Eren can watch, and that’s more than enough to send him over. Eren tenses hard, yanking Marco back down onto his cock and bucking up into him as he loses it, stammering his boyfriends’ names and jumbling them together into a pleading, moaning mess.

The way Eren’s cock grinds against his sweet spot, filling him up and twitching inside of him, renders Marco brainless, his arm shaking before it gives out. Jean’s quick to catch him, slipping behind him to hold him up and taking the opportunity to lean over him and wrap his hand around Marco’s cock.

As Eren starts to deflate under them, he opens his eyes in time to watch Marco shudder, clinging as best he can to Jean while the blonde strokes him loose and quick, rubbing his thumb over the soaked head and teasing his sensitive foreskin. Marco arches and whimpers, thrusting into Jean’s grip before he comes hard, melting bonelessly against Jean’s thighs and bucking up with every messy spurt of come. Eren moans and runs his hands soothingly up Marco’s violently-shaking thighs, watching his boyfriend make a mess on his chest. He feels incredible around Eren’s cock, so fucking tight and hot, slumped back against Jean’s lap and keening at the sweet, rumbling praises the blonde’s whispering to him as he brings Marco down, his hand slowing to a halt.

“J-Jesus,” Eren mumbles, finding it in himself to sit up and wrap his arms around his extremely floppy boyfriend. Jean lets him take Marco with a tense laugh, standing and looking around obviously for a paper towel or something. Like Eren’s gonna let that fly.

He reaches out and catches Jean by the unfastened pants, dragging him close enough that Eren can reach him. Wrapping clever fingers around Jean’s aching cock, Eren grins up at Jean and takes him into his mouth, forgoing the teasing for once in favor of stroking him quickly and working his tongue around the blonde’s piercing. Jean moans raggedly and runs a hand through Eren’s hair, biting his lip and twitching and trying not to thrust into his boyfriend’s talented mouth.

Marco finally sits up, having unscrambled his brains to some degree, and immediately gets back into it, tugging Eren’s hand away so he can mouth hot and wet over whatever’s not between Eren’s lips. His breathy, fucked-out moans pressed against Jean’s cock, along with whatever fucking black magic Eren’s tongue is doing, have Jean shivering, digging his free hand into Marco’s hair too. If the feeling wasn’t enough to get him off, the sight alone would probably do it. His hips twitching, Jean chokes out a warning that Eren proceeds to ignore entirely, sucking more insistently and blinking wide green eyes up at Jean, and that’s it.

With a stuttering gasp, Jean tenses and leans over his boyfriends, trying not to fucking topple over as Eren swallows his come with a low, satisfied moan, having mercy with his wicked tongue once he’s swallowed everything Jean has for him. Marco hums and curls his tongue against the sensitive underside of Jean’s cock, licking down until he meets Eren’s lips. When Eren lets Jean’s softening cock slip out of his mouth, he turns and kisses Marco deeply, sharing Jean’s taste with him and earning a low moan for it.

Jean stands up straight somehow, blearily watching Marco and Eren make out, before he smooths out their wildly-mussed hair gently and wobbles into the kitchen to find a paper towel.

“Messy,” Eren laughs, running his thumbs softly over Marco’s still-flushed cheeks.

“’S how you know it’s good,” Marco replies dreamily, giving Eren a giant, sated grin. “You need a shower, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Eren wraps his arms around Marco and hugs him tightly, effectively spreading the mess between them. “Now you do too.”

“Mmm, that’s okay.” Marco kisses Eren again, looping his arms lazily around his boyfriend’s neck.

“Hey, sticky,” Jean teases, having returned from the kitchen with an abundance of paper towels. He hands them to Eren, then tilts Marco’s chin up, chuckling softly at the brunette’s lingering smile. Jean squeezes Marco’s nose and murmurs, “I know what you want.”

He stalks off into the apartment, leaving Eren to get them cleaned up. He pulls out of Marco gently, letting him settle in his lap so he can towel him off. “Where’s he going?”

“Running the bath,” Marco sighs contently, his hands resting on Eren’s shoulders. “You wanna come in with me?”

Eren raises an eyebrow and smiles, leaning back enough to make sure Marco’s all clean before he starts on himself. “Can the tub fit three people?”

Shaking his head, Marco hums, “Only two, but Jean hates baths. Now hiring for a bath buddy.”

Blinking up at Marco, Eren flushes slightly at his boyfriend’s honest cheer, focusing on wiping Marco’s come out of his happy trail to save face. “S-sure. I don’t mind them.” Marco purrs happily and dips to catch Eren’s lips again, resting one warm hand on the nape of his neck as he does.

--

Turns out, if they sit facing each other, Eren and Marco just barely fit in the tub, a sprawling tangle of legs and bubbles. Jean parks it next to the tub on a milk crate he’d stolen from some coffee shop or another, perfectly happy to observe while Eren and Marco flick water at him. After a while, Marco sinks contently into the water, taking up all of his half and most of Eren’s as he does. Eren doesn’t complain, though, not when Marco looks so peaceful. And bubbly. He’s still got a leaning tower of bubbles on his head, courtesy of Jean.

Eren stares into the water and swirls his fingers through it idly, letting his mind wander. Jean scoots closer after a moment, crossing his arms on the edge of the tub and leaning over so he can see Eren’s face. He seems content when Eren shoots him a lopsided grin and flicks more water at him, smooshing a small mountain of bubbles into his face in retaliation.

Even sputtering out bubbles, slowly cooking in the hot water and tangled around a half-asleep Marco, Jean’s laughter echoing around the tiny bathroom, Eren finds himself entirely at peace.

Entirely comfortable.

“Hey, so, uh,” he says casually, leaning back against his edge of the tub. “I love you guys.”

Jean’s eyes widen almost comically, and Marco splashes loudly as he wakes up again. Their expressions set Eren cackling, laughing until his stomach hurts and then a little more for posterity.

“Rude,” Jean huffs, unable to cover the slight breathless quality to his voice, nor the grin spreading over his face.

“I love you too,” Marco sighs easily, sitting up straight and biting his lip as he glances between Eren and Jean. “Both of you.”

Jean reaches over and slicks Eren’s bangs back against his head, running his free hand across Marco’s shoulders. “Ditto. Love you goobers.”

Eren looks between them, rubbing at the back of his neck and laughing sheepishly. “Pretty painless.”

“What were you expecting?” Jean asks quietly, resting his chin in his palm. “Explosions?”

“Maybe,” Eren sighs, shrugging and flicking water at Jean again. “Brushfires, earthquakes, I dunno.” He clears his throat and directs his gaze to a pile of bubbles, playing with them idly as he continues, “It’s not like I didn’t know. Known for years.”

Marco rests his hands on Eren’s knees, smiling kindly at him. Jean does him the favor of wiping away his towering bubble crown so Eren can actually look at him. “What were you afraid of?”

Eren shrugs again, splashing water over the bubbles and generally fidgeting. “I really don’t know. Just kept getting nervous.”

“But you’re not anymore?”

“Not now that I’ve said it, no.”

“Good,” Jean says, reaching over to wipe away a stray patch of bubbles on Eren’s jaw. “We love the shit out of you, don’t go forgetting that.”

Eren snorts, running a wet hand down his face and failing utterly at hiding the goofy smile he’s wearing. “Doubt I could, with a heartfelt confession like that.”

“Shaddap, you love me.”

“Strangely, yeah,” Eren laughs, reaching over to smear bubbles down Jean’s face.

Marco smiles like the damn sun and shifts to kneel between Eren’s thighs. He and Jean lean in at the same time, each planting a loud, obnoxious kiss on one of Eren’s cheeks, and Eren about passes out from a severe case of the butterflies, covering for them with a very loud, very fake groan.

The snow had only stuck in one tiny patch on the lawn, apparently, but Eren stays the night anyway, helping Marco torment Jean with their pruny fingers and making out with them lazily until he passes out between them, all three sleeping comfortably right where they belong.

Chapter Text

“Pleeease, Marco?” Jean whines, slouching down in his seat enough that he can brace his knees against the dashboard, which he knows damn well drives his boyfriend nuts. “I’m so bored.”

“Jean, no, that’s so illegal it’s not even funny. It’s completely unsafe, too. What if my foot slips?”

“Ugh.”

Marco lets his hands fall from the steering wheel into his lap and casts his grumpy boyfriend a warm smile. “Sorry, love.”

“’S okay,” Jean harrumphs, spinning his dead phone between his fingers.

They’ve been stuck in near-standstill traffic on the interstate for something approaching a millennium, watching the sun sink behind the mountains while five lanes of traffic bottleneck into one because of every possible freeway calamity happening at once in a construction zone. Eren had passed out in the backseat ages ago, same as he always has on long car rides. It’s impossible to really wake Eren up when he’s geared for sleep, though, so Jean can’t even rely on him for entertainment. He’s buried deep in his hoodie, completely unconscious and snoring just loud enough to assure his boyfriends that he’s still alive back there.

Jean sighs and looks out his window, staring at the peeling logo on the semi next to them. His phone’s dead, Eren had left his in the damn fridge again, and Marco’s barely gets any signal outside the city for whatever reason. Thus, Jean’s left with nothing to do. No work, no books, nothing.

He’s losing his damn mind.

Running a hand through his hair, Jean turns in his seat and leans against his door so he can stare at his one conscious boyfriend, who’s tapping his thumb against the steering wheel to whatever’s playing on the radio. Marco blinks at him and smiles again, reaching over to rub Jean’s knee soothingly.

“It’s only traffic, babe.”

“It’s boring traffic.”

Marco laughs and runs his free hand through his hair, conceding Jean’s point with a nod. “It is. It is very boring.”

Jean huffs and looks around the headrest of his seat at Eren, who’s still turtled down into his hoodie and basically taking up the entire backseat. He watches the hoodie breathe for a while, then recalls a conversation they’d had earlier, while Marco was in line at Starbucks.

“You know,” Jean says, looking back over at Marco. “Eren couldn’t believe that both of us can come just from getting fucked.”

Once Marco’s done choking on air he’d inhaled entirely incorrectly, he looks over at Jean, biting his lip against giggles. “You d-don’t say.”

Jean nods matter-of-factly, crossing his legs in the seat as much as he can while still twisted to face Marco. “He says he’s never gotten off just from having something up his ass.”

“He’s missing out,” Marco hums, rubbing the back of his neck and casting a glance in the rearview mirror. “What, like he needs to touch himself too?”

“Yup.”

“I usually do too, you know.”

Pondering that for a moment, Jean nods idly and runs a hand through his hair. “Not every time, though.”

“True.” Marco grins over at Jean again after he’s inched the car forward another foot or so. “Personally, I like that you can come untouched so easily. It’s pretty hot.”

Jean smirks and licks his lips, slouching down against his door. “So I’ve gathered.” He lets his gaze travel over his boyfriend again while the brunette attempts unsuccessfully to merge, then groans loudly. “Ugh, this conversation did not help. Got a half-chub.”

“Oops.”

Grumbling again, Jean reaches down and idly palms at his half-hard cock, stuck down his pant leg and more than eager to make Jean’s traffic hell that much worse.

“Marco, we’ve moved like four feet in the last half hour. Can I please give you road head?”

Marco laughs and shakes his head, casting a glance over to where Jean’s hand is moving over his slowly-hardening dick. “Nope. Highly illegal, and distracting to boot.”

“We’re moving so slowly I could climb over there and fucking ride your dick and you still wouldn’t get into an accident.”

“As much as I would love to test your theory,” Marco mumbles, raking a hand through his hair. He’s awful at hiding how much Jean’s advances get to him. “I’m not trying to spend the night in jail.”

Jean stares for a beat, then another, then casually announces, “I’m gonna jack off.”

“W-what? Now?”

“Yes.”

When Marco doesn’t put up any sort of resistance, Jean makes quick work of unfastening his pants. Swallowing visibly, Marco flicks his eyes back over to his boyfriend, who holds eye contact while he just fucking whips his now-hard dick out, where anyone in any of the surrounding cars could see him. Marco has to take a steadying breath and stare hard at the car in front of him, but it’s too late for him. The effect Jean’s boldness has on Marco’s thinly-veiled exhibitionist side is already apparent in the impressive tent he’s pitching. “J-Jean…”

Jean licks his lips and strokes himself slowly, keeping his grip slack for now, just shy of enough pressure to really get him going. If he’s gonna get off sitting in traffic, may as well make it a good one.

He looks down at his hand, fingers playing gently with his piercing for a moment, before Marco reaches over and swats his hand away. Jean’s about to complain, but Marco wraps his warm fingers around him instead and gives him a good, firm stroke, twisting his wrist and rubbing his thumb between the studs of his piercing, and Jean’s putty in his hands.

“Fuck, Marco,” Jean moans, leaning his head back against the window and shifting his hips forward. Marco keeps a steady rhythm, squeezing and slipping his thumb around the ball resting in his slit, somehow managing to not crash into the car in front of him whenever Jean shivers or rolls his hips. It’s a struggle, though, with the little sounds Jean makes, cheeks flushed, looking so pretty in the dying sunlight. The semi next to them is losing its merging battle, too, and if they come up level with the cab, the driver would probably have the perfect view of Marco jacking his boyfriend off…

Marco reaches down with his free hand and palms at his own straining arousal with a low moan, stroking Jean a little faster and a little tighter. His piercing is slick with precome now, and he’s relaxing and spreading his thighs, hips riding up into Marco’s easy pace. It’s getting harder to focus on driving like this, even stuck in slow traffic.

Eren, ever gifted with the superpower of excellent timing, chooses this moment to blearily wake up and emit a series of muffled, confused noises at the darkness within his hoodie. He escapes, though, and leans forward between the seats, but before he can ask any questions, his gaze falls on the handjob situation happening up front. He blinks at Marco’s hand on Jean’s flushed cock, and at the red-handed expression both of his boyfriends are wearing. “Oh.”

“H-hi,” Jean sputters, wiggling in his seat.

“Nice,” Eren mumbles sleepily, pushing his hood off his nap-mussed hair. Before Jean or Marco can move, Eren scoots forward and leans closer, and without skipping a beat wraps his mouth over whatever Marco’s hand isn’t covering.

“Fuck—” Jean whines, letting his head fall back against the window with a thud. Eren bobs his head slowly, rubbing Marco’s wrist encouragingly. The traffic shifts, though, and Marco reluctantly pulls his hand away so he can make some progress on the merging situation. Eren’s more than happy to take over, leaning forward more and sucking Jean deeper into his hot, wonderful mouth.

Jean sighs and digs his hands into Eren’s messy hair, pushing it off his face so he can watch his boyfriend suck him off. The position is precarious, though, and Eren’s not at quite the right angle, so Jean pulls him off and pushes him back as he unbuckles his tangled seatbelt.

“Don’t get us arrested,” Marco moans, accepting Jean’s quick, messy kiss before the blonde abandons ship and tackles Eren into the backseat.

“Are you even awake yet?” Jean asks, straddling Eren and moaning against his lips as he kisses him roughly, pressed all against him and rocking his hips and generally trying to get closer. Eren wraps his arms around Jean’s waist and shoves his hands right down the back of Jean’s pants, squeezing his ass firmly and pulling a rumbling moan out of his boyfriend.

“Gettin’ there,” Eren replies, his voice still rough. He’s awake enough to manhandle Jean, though, pushing and shifting until the blonde’s sprawled out along the backseat and spread open so Eren can kneel between his thighs and go back to what he was doing.

Eren gives Jean a few quick strokes before he sucks him down again, curling his tongue around him and hollowing his cheeks. Jean arches into his mouth and whimpers, reaching up behind himself to grip the door’s armrest tightly. He watches Eren bob his head over him, still not awake enough to take him too deep. He makes up for it with his hand, stroking what isn’t stuffed into his mouth in perfect time to his steady sucking and the clever movements of his tongue. When he pulls up to tease Jean’s piercing, his hand speeds up, and Jean’s eyes shutter closed at the feeling.

Up front, Marco shamelessly adjusts his rearview mirror and watches his boyfriends, biting his dry lips as he does. He’s not one for road rage, but there’s no way a show like this is good for his blood pressure. The next rest stop isn’t even for a while yet, and the traffic is still unforgiving. He just resigns himself to his fate, sitting on the interstate with a raging hardon and watching his gorgeous lovers cope with the boredom.

Jean breathes out a low moan as Eren works on pulling him deeper, still keeping his perfect rhythm with his tongue and his hand. He resists the urge to rock his hips, at least until Eren gives him the go-ahead to fuck his mouth. When Eren finally takes him all in, his lips moving hot and wet and noisy over his cock, Jean shivers and moans his name, cracking one eye open to watch again, as intense as it is. Eren’s watching him, clearly awake now, burning green eyes sending a chill all through Jean and leaving him whimpering. Panting quickly, Jean reaches down again and buries his fingers in Eren’s hair, giving him an encouraging moan when he speeds up, shifting his hand down to tease the sensitive skin under Jean’s balls.

“Hey, Eren,” Marco calls from the front, still watching when he can in the mirror. Eren sits up, ignoring Jean’s whine at the loss, and peers up at their boyfriend. Marco tosses something back to them, then pulls his hand away from his straining arousal and focuses again on driving. “Don’t let him come yet.”

Sitting up slightly to complain, Jean notices that they’re actually moving now, but that’s about all he gets before Eren grins down at him and shoves him back against the seat. He reaches down and hauls Jean’s pants down further, pushing his thighs apart again, and that’s when Jean sees the bottle of lube he’s holding.

Eren leans back in and swallows Jean right down, hollowing his cheeks around him and sucking so nicely as he slicks his fingers, and Jean really can’t find it in himself to complain anymore. He toes his shoes off and kicks his pants most of the way off, then spreads his thighs wider, already anticipating Eren’s slippery fingers moving over his entrance.

As Eren slides one finger into him, Jean melts for him, rocking down onto him with a ragged sigh. Eren moans around him, momentarily distracted by how beautifully Jean’s hips move, how damn pliant he is when he wants to get fucked, before he gets it together again and works a second finger into him. He thrusts them in time with his mouth, using his fucking perfect musician’s rhythm to drive Jean out of his mind, and Jean’s appreciative moans coming faster and louder only fuel him more.

When he curls his fingers up in tight circles against Jean’s sweet spot and swallows around him, Jean arches hard and bites back a gasping cry, his thighs shaking around his boyfriend and his fingers digging hard into the seat cushion. Once he’s found his words again, he whines, “M-Marco, why can’t I come? We’re s-so far from home—”

“Because,” Marco interrupts, his voice rough the way it gets after Jean’s been fucking with him. “You’re a teasing menace and I wanna hear you squirm and beg.”

Jean whimpers, twitching up into Eren’s mouth. He knows that tone. That’s the tone he hears right before Marco fucks him through whatever furniture they find first after Jean’s been a—well, a teasing menace. Eren’s clearly interested as well, pulling off to lick his lips and stroke Jean’s soaked cock quickly while he grins at their boyfriend in the rearview mirror.

Eren hasn’t seen this side of Marco yet, though. He’s seen Marco when he gets whipped up into a desperate, power-bottom-type frenzy, but he hasn’t seen how he gets when he needs to fuck the life out of something. Shit, he hasn’t even gotten fucked by Marco yet, somehow. He has no idea how rough and dominating his sweet boyfriend gets when he’s really riled up, so Eren doesn’t realize that he’s dooming himself and Jean both when he decides to tease Marco further.

Jean elects not to educate his boyfriend yet. He’ll learn.

“You wanna hear him beg?” Eren asks, leaning up front and breathing a low laugh across Marco’s ear. “Think I can make him scream like this? Or maybe I’ll bend him over the cupholder here and let you watch the faces he makes while I fuck his brains out, how ‘bout that?” Marco blinks calmly, keeping his focus on the road, but the way his hips shift and the way his cock’s straining against his zipper give away how much he likes that idea.

He’s already got everything planned out, though, and the want in his eyes burns hot enough to wring a little moan out of Eren when they make brief eye contact in the rearview mirror.

“Keep doing what you’re doing,” Marco murmurs, flicking his eyes back to the road. Specifically, toward the road sign indicating a rest stop in thirty or so miles. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Even with that tone, Eren has no idea what kind of bear he’s poking, but he clearly likes the sound of it. He looks Marco over like he wants to fuck with him more until Jean’s needy whimpers catch his attention again, so he slinks back into the backseat and leans over the blonde instead.

Jean pulls him down and kisses him desperately, moaning and rocking down onto his fingers as they starting moving again, steady thrusts meant more to drive him nuts than to prep him for anything. Eren fucks his tongue into Jean’s mouth and fingers him mercilessly, grinding his own trapped cock against Jean’s shaking thigh with a low groan. He lets Jean fumble his pants open and shove them and his underwear down his thighs, then shifts to rub against him again, rocking into the bony hollow of Jean’s hip. Jean hikes his shirt up over his stomach before he reaches between them and wraps his fingers around both of them, stroking them together and arching and generally letting Eren make him crazy. Eren works a third finger into him, just to make him shake, and when Jean leans his head back and exposes his flushed throat to him, Eren gladly takes advantage.

He bites and licks down the tense lines of Jean’s neck, curling his fingers into his sweet spot and thrusting harder, giving a low, rumbling moan at the way Jean cries out for him. He kisses back up to his ear, biting just hard enough to have Jean gasping, and whispers, “You look so fucking good right now, Jean.”

Melting helplessly under him, Jean lets his eyes flutter closed as his weak hands fist in Eren’s shirt. Eren growls at the loss of friction over his cock, but he lets it slide in favor of teasing Jean more.

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” he rasps, spreading his fingers and thrusting them deeper into Jean, following the arch of his hips maddeningly. “Wanna make you beg for my cock, ‘nd watch you suck down Marco’s. You look so damn pretty between us, all hard and sweaty and desperate. Love the noises you make when I fuck you, you’re so gorgeous. You know that?”

He shifts and grinds his cock against the join of Jean’s thigh, torturously close to his steadily-moving fingers, and the way it makes Jean twitch and whine just makes Eren want to fuck him more. He settles for nuzzling into his ear, though, and rocking against him while he spreads him open on his fingers, and watching Jean go boneless under him is so worth having to wait for Marco’s go-ahead.

“You wanna get fucked?” he asks, dragging his tongue slowly up Jean’s ear and eating up the way Jean trembles and nods. “Can’t hear you, baby.”

Clinging tighter to Eren and whimpering, Jean gasps his agreement. It’s not enough for Eren, though, so he pulls his cock away and slows his fingers down, and Jean fists his hands hard in Eren’s clothes and frantically tries to bring him closer again. “W-wanna, want it, f-f-fuck—”

“Want what?”

“Fuck!” Jean squirms and wraps his legs around Eren’s waist, bucking up in search of friction, trying to fuck himself on Eren’s fingers. “F-fuck you, I want it, I want it—”

Eren presses a breathy chuckle against Jean’s ear and curls his fingers hard into his sweet spot, groaning at the way Jean sobs his name in a brainless mantra and paws at him desperately, every part of him tense and begging for attention.

“God! Fuck me, fuckmefuckme, w-wanna get fucked, just fuck me, please—”

“Ooh, god you sound good,” Eren moans, leaning up to take in Jean’s wanton expression, flushed dark and turned on to the point of pain. “H-hey, Marco—”

Before Eren gets the chance to ask if he can give Jean what he wants so bad, Marco’s parking the car haphazardly in the darkest part of the rest stop parking lot he’d pulled into, and he’s already halfway into the backseat by the time Eren finally starts picking up on his mood. Marco kneels beside them and leans in close to Eren, getting right in his face and gently tugging his fingers out of Jean. Eren swallows, licking his lips and not even trying to fight the hard twitch of his cock at Marco’s expression, instead letting the brunette pull him away from Jean.

“Jean tells me you’ve never gotten off just from getting fucked,” Marco rumbles, brushing a deceptively sweet kiss against Eren’s lips and carefully unzipping and sliding his hoodie off his shoulders. Eren shakes his head hazily, wiping his fingers off against his jeans before he lets Marco slowly take them off. Jean’s watching blearily, gripping the seat cushion again in anticipation. He watches Marco pulls Eren’s shirt off, leaving him naked and spellbound, before he yanks his own shirt off too.

Marco drags his palms down Eren’s chest, still the absolute picture of control, and gives his thick cock one good stroke before he tilts his head toward Jean. “I’m gonna fuck him until he’s screaming our names and coming all over you, and then he’s gonna hold your hands while I fuck you until you come just from my cock. Is that okay?”

Jean’s already vibrating with need, wiggling around until he’s sitting upright, but he gives Eren the space to stare widely at their boyfriend, his face slowly flushing and his tongue wetting his dry lips. He nods quickly, then swallows and rasps, “Y-yeah, yes, fuck—”

With a ragged moan, Marco leans forward and kisses him deeply, dragging a hand over the back of Eren’s neck soothingly. He pulls back, though, and digs some condoms out of his back pocket, likely from the same glove compartment stash as the lube. “Switch places,” he orders, and while Eren and Jean are untangling and shifting, he pulls his shirt off and unfastens his pants with a low sigh. They adjust around each other, catching each other’s lips in desperate, heated kisses where they can until Jean’s on his hands and knees over Eren, arching his ass out toward Marco as the brunette comes up behind him, slicking lube over the condom he’d rolled on.

He kneels behind Jean, running his warm palm over the blonde’s ass, then leans over him and catches his lips in a burning kiss. Jean whimpers and shakes above Eren, flushing clear onto his chest and twitching at Marco’s gentle bites.

Before Marco can ask if Jean’s okay with the arrangement, the blonde’s nodding and pressing back against him, nuzzling into his boyfriend’s face and flicking his tongue between his lips. Marco smiles, sliding one hand across Jean’s chest, and moves to press his lips against his ear. “You’re such a damn tease,” he breathes, dragging his nails down Jean’s chest and holding him while he shakes and gasps. “Sounded so good begging, though. Can’t decide if I should be nice to you or not.”

The way Jean keens and his shoulders tremble gives away Marco’s teasing grinds against his entrance, rubbing his cock against him but not giving him what he wants. Jean’s eyes squeeze shut, his teeth savaging his lip, and Eren can’t help but watch with wide eyes, making eye contact with Marco again as he gives him another slow, torturous grind. “M-Marco, Marco,” Jean gasps, letting his head drop as he wiggles back against him. “Please, please fuck me, please—”

Marco grins down at Eren, who shivers and grips Jean’s thighs to keep from jacking himself off, then presses a soft kiss to Jean’s ear and obliges him.

He straightens up and rests a hand on Jean’s back, steadying himself with the other, and as he pushes himself inside, Jean’s eyes roll shut and his mouth falls open on a loud, ragged moan. Marco bottoms out with a teasing grind, shifting both hands to Jean’s hips, and he allows him a bare moment to adjust before he braces his foot against the floor of the car and gives Jean what he needs.

Eren curses under his breath at the way Marco fucking rams his cock into Jean, pounding into him steadily and using his grip to pull him back onto his cock, and Jean’s already about to fucking collapse. He throws his head back with a gasping cry, nails grating against the seat, each thrust jolting him forward until Marco yanks him back, shifting his hips and slamming back into Marco’s lap and failing utterly at keeping his voice down. His volume doesn’t seem to faze Marco, though, who just licks his lips and watches Jean’s body move under the force of his hips. He shifts one hand from Jean’s hip to fist in his hair, pulling just enough to have Jean’s eyes cross before they slide closed, still pushing desperately back onto his cock. He cries out for Marco, inexplicably begging for more, and Marco’s more than happy to oblige him. The sound of his hips slapping against Jean’s ass wrings brainless little moans out of Eren, who’s still gaping up at Jean and wondering where the fuck Marco was hiding this intense part of himself.

As Jean’s arms start to shake, he whines more, works his hips more, until he collapses onto Eren’s chest and immediately catches his lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss. Marco breathes out a low moan and adjusts, letting go of Jean’s hair and dragging his nails down the blonde’s slick back, humming at the gorgeous way his spine curves under the attention. Eren fists his hands in Jean’s hair instead, kissing him rough and needy and arching up in search of something to rub his cock against.

Despite Jean’s obvious approval of Marco’s deep, hammering thrusts, he slows down, moving firmly into Jean and running his warm hands down the blonde’s back as he starts to protest. Jean turns and looks impatiently over his shoulder, circling his hips back enticingly, but he gets it when Marco holds the lube out to him again. Jean takes the bottle, then beckons the brunette closer, twisting to kiss him messily over his shoulder. Marco melts against his back for a moment, his hands moving so sweetly over Jean’s sweat-slick skin, before he nudges Jean’s cheek with his nose and directs his attention back to Eren, who swallows and bites his lip.

Jean leans back down onto his elbows and kisses Eren warmly, still rocking back into Marco even as he shifts around and bends one of Eren’s knees over his shoulder. He shifts his weight onto that elbow, handing the lube back to Marco when he finds himself lacking enough hands. Marco leans over Jean’s other shoulder, pulling Eren’s knee more firmly into place, then pops the lube open and squirts some onto Jean’s waiting fingers.

“You look good spread out like that, Eren,” Marco breathes, capping the lube and dropping it onto the floor. He reaches around Jean and gently runs his hand over Eren’s trembling thigh, licking his lips and devouring Eren with his gaze.

Eren flushes, struck with a fucking dizzying bolt of arousal curling in his gut, before he arches his hips helpfully toward Jean. The blonde moans, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, either from the face Eren’s making or the feeling of Marco grinding deep inside of him. He gets himself together, though, and slips his slick fingers between Eren’s thighs and spreads lube over his entrance. The angle doesn’t really let him watch what his hand’s doing, so he goes by Eren’s face instead, watching his boyfriend curse raggedly and arch at the feeling. He relaxes with a little gentle coaxing, and Jean presses a finger into him, moaning softly at how tight Eren is.

Marco whispers warm praises into Jean’s ear, then sits up again, thrusting into Jean with a steady, deep rhythm that’s enough to have him gasping, but not enough to distract him while he’s working Eren open.

As Jean moves his finger slowly, squeezing his eyes shut and turning to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to the inside of Eren’s knee, he tries to divide his attention between Marco’s cock inside of him and the feeling of Eren wrapped around his finger. He thrusts gently and curls his finger, seeking out and finding the brunette’s prostate to try and coax more sweet noises out of him. Eren arches under him, biting his lip harder, but he melts under Jean’s insistent attention. As he relaxes further, Eren lets out pretty little moans, rocking his hips up for more. He’s definitely not passive under his boyfriends, his hands moving steadily over Jean and nails dragging lightly across his pale skin, fingers finding his pert nipples and tweaking them just to make Jean whine.

He slides his hands around until his fingers find Marco’s, still holding Jean tight until he relaxes his grip and lets Eren lace their fingers over Jean’s bony hips. Marco moans softly, grinding up into Jean more firmly as he squeezes Eren’s hands. He speeds up again, though, unable to maintain that slow pace, not with Jean’s incredible heat wrapped around him. Jean gets the picture and works a second finger into Eren, gasping and moaning against Eren’s knee and curling his fingers again as he thrusts them harder and spreads them inside of him. The sooner he gets Eren ready, the sooner Marco can hold true on his promise.

Eren squirms under them more the faster Jean thrusts his fingers, his bent thigh shaking as he rocks his hips into the feeling. He squeezes Marco’s fingers again, then pulls his hands away, sliding his palms around Jean’s trembling hips, over his sides, up to his shoulders, arching his back and gripping Jean’s arms when the blonde fucks him harder, curls his fingers more, and gently works a third into him. He shivers and whimpers as Jean spreads his fingers, until Eren finally rasps, “O-okay, alright, f-fuck—”

Marco leans over and smirks down at him, bucking his hips deep into Jean and catching the blonde off-guard, earning himself a sharp gasp and a shaky moan. “Think he’s ready, Jean?”

Jean swallows, scissoring his fingers again before he pulls them out and nods. “A-as ready as he’s getting.”

“Alright then,” Marco hums, shifting Eren’s thigh off Jean’s shoulder and pushing the blonde down onto his chest. Eren wraps his arms around Jean’s neck and kisses him brainless, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and swallowing his gasping little moans. Jean holds his weight on his forearms again, nuzzling Eren and whimpering his name as he arches his hips back toward Marco, but once he’s gotten settled Marco’s done being patient.

He grips Jean’s hips again and works back up to his rough, pounding pace, pulling Jean’s hips around until he’s hitting the blonde so good, until he’s fucking him senseless again and leaving him a gasping, whining mess against Eren’s chest. He reaches down and knocks Jean’s knees wider apart, spreading him open further, then rails his cock into him, holding him still while Jean shivers and cries out against Eren’s lips.

It’s not enough to make quite the wreck of Jean that Marco wants to, though, not at this angle, even with as good as he sounds burying his desperate noises against Eren’s throat. Marco digs his nails into Jean’s hips and bucks harder, then reaches down and loops one arm around Jean’s thin chest.

Eren chokes out a moan when Marco hauls Jean up against his chest and slams his cock up into him, Jean’s eyes crossing again as he gasps for air and leans his head back on Marco’s shoulder. Jean’s shaking hands come up to grip the arm around his chest, holding onto Marco and shivering against him. Marco sinks his teeth into the crook of Jean’s neck, fucking growling at the way the blonde arches hard and tightens perfectly around him, pale thighs spread helplessly over Marco’s lap. Jean lets Marco hold him up, giving himself over to him and crying out for him and letting him possess him, Eren’s burning eyes on him make him even weaker in the knees.

The way Marco marks Jean’s shoulder, strong arms wrapped around his chest and his waist and keeping him still as he rams his cock into him, makes Eren fucking dizzy, already squirming in anticipation of his turn. He watches the show, though, the perfect demonstration Marco makes of Jean. He takes in every detail of Jean’s boneless body, his cock twitching against his tense stomach and dripping precome everywhere, how Marco’s thick cock looks fucking nailing Jean’s tight ass, each thrust almost pulling out entirely before he stuffs him full again, purposely not touching his arousal even though the blonde’s pleading now, his nails digging into Marco’s arm and his body quaking with pleasure.

Just as Jean looks like he’s about to pass out, his breathless little noises growing louder and louder until he’s sobbing their names, wiggling and rutting his hips and begging mindlessly, Marco bites up to his ear and fucking orders him to come, his voice rough and hitching around his own cracked moan, but Jean obeys.

His breath stops in his chest, his entire body tensing, tightening, arching, and Eren can’t help but sit up and touch him, just dragging his palms over Jean’s hip bones and up his stomach, but that’s enough for Jean. Gripping Marco’s wrist, his other hand flying down to squeeze Eren’s, Jean shivers violently and screams for them, bucking back for more, noisy, incoherent moans filling the car as he loses it. His cock twitches as he comes all over Eren’s chest, onto his collarbones and dripping down onto his stomach. Eren groans softly, holding Jean’s hand while Marco fucks his orgasm out of him with a low, growling moan.

As Jean starts coming down, his noises pitch almost pitiful, so Marco has mercy on him and brings him down gently, mouthing up his marked neck and cradling his limp body against his chest. Eren breathes out a slow sigh and runs his hands up and down Jean’s violently-shaking thighs, the gesture soothing his whining boyfriend.

Marco sits back on his heels and kisses Jean’s shoulder tenderly, breathing sweet love against him and praising him, smoothing his bangs off his sweaty face. Jean’s eyes open again after a while, still hazy and spaced-out. He peers down at Eren, reaching for him, and Marco eases him forward so he can wrap his arms around Eren’s shoulders and kiss him weakly. Eren runs his thumbs over Jean’s flushed cheeks and kissing him gently, lovingly, and Marco soothes his broad hands along Jean’s ribs until he’s stopped shaking so hard and he seems mostly conscious again. He wriggles off of Marco’s still-hard cock with a quiet curse, letting his boyfriends support him for now.

“Jesus Christ, Freckles,” Eren laughs after a moment, scratching his nails through Jean’s hair and grinning up at the brunette. “Where’ve you been hiding that?”

“That’s the big secret,” Jean groans, chuckling hoarsely into Eren’s ear. “If you poke the bear, the bear will come for you.”

“Clearly,” Eren wheezes, still kind of processing the magnitude of what Marco’s capable of. Marco leans forward, dropping loving kisses along Jean’s shoulder, before he reaches up and tucks a stray lock of Eren’s hair behind his ear.

“It doesn’t have to be like that if that’s too much for you,” Marco murmurs, holding Eren’s gaze.

“I just love that shit,” Jean chirps, his energy clearly returning to him. Marco laughs softly and kisses the back of Jean’s head, still glancing cautiously at Eren.

“I, uh,” Eren starts, reaching up to run his hand soothingly over Marco’s arm. “I think I might need to work up to that. Don’t even bottom that often.”

“That’s okay.” Marco gives Eren a reassuring smile and leans forward to kiss him gently over Jean’s shoulder. “You don’t have to work up to it at all, if you don’t want to.”

“Hey now, I never said that,” Eren hums, playfully ruffling Marco’s sweat-damp hair. “I still want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?”

Eren nods, nudging Jean’s jaw around until he can kiss him warmly. “’Nd I’m game for you holding me down.”

Marco tugs gently on Eren’s ear, catching his gaze again before he asks, “D’you want a safe word?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious there, Rambo,” Eren laughs, dragging Marco in for another kiss. “I trust you guys by now.” Marco fidgets, though, so Eren says, “If you really want them, stoplight’s fine.”

Jean nods, peering at Marco over his shoulder. He gives him a crooked grin and twists to wrap his arm around Marco’s neck, nudging him up for a warm kiss. “Don’t look so worried, love,” he murmurs, running his fingers soothingly through Marco’s hair. “I’ll take care of him.” Marco sighs, leaning his forehead against Jean’s cheek, before his nods and sits up again, stripping the condom off and stroking himself idly.

He watches Jean flop out of the middle and scoot behind Eren instead, leaning against the car door and easing the brunette into relaxing back into his chest with warm hands and gentle kisses. Jean grins down at Eren and runs his fingers through his shaggy hair, kissing his temple before murmuring, “You gonna let my come sit on your chest, then?”

“Kinda like it,” Eren hums, leaning up for more kisses. He smiles over at Marco, then twists up and flicks his tongue between Jean’s lips, catching Jean’s hands and twining their fingers pointedly as he slinks down and spreads his thighs with a low moan. Jean squeezes his fingers, kissing over Eren’s cheek warmly before shifting so he’s holding Eren’s hands away from himself, effectively keeping him from being able to touch himself at all. Marco groans softly, edging forward and dragging his palms down Eren’s thin thighs, squeezing gently before he presses his knees back, spreading him wider. Soothed by Marco’s gentleness and Jean’s kisses, Eren lets his boyfriend shift him into position before he settles into Jean’s chest and grins up at Marco.

“You don’t gotta treat me like glass, you know,” Eren teases, poking Marco’s thigh with his toes.

“I know, I know,” Marco hums, ducking his head and kissing Eren warmly, deepening it just briefly before he pulls away and leans over to grab the lube and another condom. Eren watches his boyfriend as he rolls a fresh condom on and slicks it, slipping two cautious fingers into him just to spread more lube inside of him. Eren huffs, but he allows it, blinking slowly up at the brunette. Marco licks his lips, his hazy eyes lingering on Jean’s come still stuck in drips on Eren’s chest. “Y-you look really good, Eren…”

Eren laughs and raises his eyebrows, peering down at the mess. “Guess so, yeah.”

Jean presses warm kisses into Eren’s hair as Marco moves closer again and lifts Eren’s hips into his lap, sitting back on his heels and just observing for a moment. He reaches forward and gives Eren a few good strokes, humming as his eyes flutter closed, then steadies his cock and presses into him.

Moving in slow, gentle thrusts, Marco bites his lip and watches as he slides into Eren, moving his hands to his thin hips as he presses deeper. Eren arches and gasps, wrapping his thighs around Marco’s waist, holding him securely and dragging him closer as he does. Marco moans and leans over him, brushing a gentle kiss against his forehead before he leans up and catches Jean’s lips. Jean kisses him deeply, slipping him his tongue and swallowing his soft moans, before he gives him an encouraging nudge. Marco whines, weaseling another slow kiss out of Jean, then shifts his attention back to Eren, who’s wiggling in his lap and biting his lip gently.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Eren hums, blinking up at Marco and shooting him a crooked grin. “You know I can handle it. C’mon, I wanna see what all the hype’s about.”

Marco breathes a quiet laugh and dips to kiss Eren again, letting his boyfriend encourage him with little bites and another low moan, squeezing tight around him. He leans back up, his eyes burning over Eren’s gorgeous body, before he squeezes his hips and grinds his cock up into him. They both moan softly at the feeling, Eren spreading his thighs and rocking back into him.

Duly reassured, Marco pulls back slowly, then rolls his hips back into him, his mouth falling open at the way Eren feels around him. He’s tight, and so goddamn hot it’s ridiculous, even through the condom. Eren arches onto him again, clinging to his waist with his thighs, so Marco keeps it up.

He fills Eren up in deep, even thrusts, watching the brunette’s face and listening to the sweet sounds he makes, his fingers tensing in Jean’s. Jean murmurs soft praises to Eren, earning himself a breathy moan, the sound echoed in the low groan Eren wrings out of Marco as he rocks back into his rhythmic thrusts. Marco licks his lips, wrapping one arm under the curve of Eren’s spine to support him as he picks up his pace slightly, moving faster and hitting him deeper. Eren arches and gasps, opening his eyes to watch Marco’s stomach tense as he rolls his hips steadily, before he mumbles, “C-c’mon, Marco, more, please?”

With a hitched moan, Marco grinds up into him, then pulls out. Jean soothes Eren’s huffing protests as Marco sets him back on the seat and instead grips the backs of his thighs. He bends Eren back and moves over him, then slides back into him, rocking his hips deeper, filling him up more and drawing more of those gorgeous noises out of him. Marco keeps steady and shifts Eren gently until he hits him better, moaning at the sharp gasp and the curl of Eren’s toes and the shaky whine of Marco’s name the angle earns him.

“That it?” Marco asks, more than a little breathless. Eren nods slightly, wiggling against Jean’s chest, and he tries to pull his hand down to his cock before Jean’s fingers tighten between his and keep him gently restrained. Marco shifts Eren again, leaning over him more, and when he rocks into him a little harder, Eren’s thighs twitch and he whimpers, bitten lips falling open as he pants into the humid air.

“That better, baby?” Jean murmurs, watching Marco’s hips move into Eren in deep, grinding thrusts, searching for the perfect angle. Eren nods again, sighing Jean’s name slowly and melting against him. “You want more?”

Marco gives a breathless laugh at Eren’s vigorous nod, but he obliges, moving harder still, until he’s filling him up in quick, even thrusts and rocking him against Jean, wringing raspy moans and sighs out of him. Eren leans his head back into Jean’s chest, eyes sliding closed at the feeling. Marco’s thick, and he hits him deep, curved in a way that teases the head past Eren’s prostate on every thrust, the feeling just enough to have him panting. Marco shifts again, bracing his foot against the floor and lending force to his thrusts, the firmness of his hips and the soft sounds of his moans leaving Eren craving more.

He opens his eyes and blinks up at Marco, biting his lip with a whimper before he squeezes tight around him, eating up the dazed flutter of Marco’s eyelids. He squirms between his boyfriends, trying again to retrieve his hand and whining at the restraint. Jean laughs quietly, then leans over and nudges his nose against Marco’s temple. Marco glances up at him and flashes him a hazy smile, arching closer for a soft kiss.

They look back down at Eren, who’s moaning and panting quietly, cradled safely between them. Marco sighs shakily and tilts his head back, then speeds his thrusts, giving Eren a deep snap with his hips that has the brunette arching and whimpering for more. He keeps trying to reach between them, and Jean’s grip on him is starting to make him a little desperate. Breathing soft pleas and praises, Eren arches into Marco’s thrusts as much as he can, his moans coming faster and louder as Marco soothes him higher.

He’s still wiggling, though, the feeling still just shy of good enough, so he peers up at Marco and gasps, “H-harder, Marco, please? J-just—just a little, please, c’mon…”

Marco gives him a crooked grin and ducks to kiss him breathlessly, sucking soothingly at his lips before he leans back up and gives Eren what he wants.

He tightens his grip on Eren’s thighs, holding him firmly as he pounds his cock into him, shifting forward and using what leverage he has to give him more. Eren tenses and moans, moving with him, squeezing Jean’s hands and shivering. He lets his head fall back with a stuttering gasp, panting harder and breathing weak little pleas, but Marco’s finally hitting him just right and just hard enough, steadily enough that all Eren can do is melt, murmuring their names over and over.

Dripping precome makes a slippery mess of the dark curls trailing down from his navel, especially as his cock twitches and he lets Marco take him higher. He’s stopped trying to reach for his cock, letting Jean rub his thumbs soothingly over his knuckles instead and trusting Marco to get him there. Moaning for them, Eren blinks up at Jean again, then at Marco, taking in their sweet expressions. Especially Marco’s.

Marco’s concentrating so hard on keeping his angle, barely keeping it together with how Eren feels around him. He doesn’t stutter, though, doesn’t falter, even when he moans Eren’s name and squeezes his eyes shut, his hands tightening under Eren’s knees. Wiggling slightly, Eren brings his thighs closer together, coercing Marco into pinning his knees to his chest. Marco shivers, licking his lips and staring down at Eren with this dazed expression, chills breaking out over his skin at the way Eren feels at this angle.

With his thighs nearly pressed together, Eren’s tighter, and he feels Marco deeper, feels like he’s thicker, and whenever the brunette pulls back, the blunt head of his cock rubs against Eren’s sweet spot perfectly. He keens and curls his toes, squeezing his eyes shut as he gasps, “Fuck, Marco, r-right there, right there…”

“’S good?” Jean breathes, nuzzling into Eren’s hair. Eren nods frantically, then leans his head back with a loud, stuttering moan, his thighs starting to shake harder and his hands tensing. “You gonna come for us?”

Marco moans softly, his even pace growing a little rougher, having to fight harder to keep his rhythm when Eren’s tightening like this, squeezing around him and pulling him deep with every thrust. “F-fuck, I dunno,” Eren manages finally, panting and trembling between them.

Jean grins, bringing one of Eren’s hands to his lips so he can brush warm kisses over his boyfriend’s knuckles. “Go on, Marco,” he sighs. “Little harder, bet you can make him come.”

“B-both of us, then,” Marco whines, casting a pleading look up at Jean. He bites his lip and tilts his head back again, thrusting harder anyway, but he’s getting dangerously close. “E-Eren, god you feel amazing.”

Whimpering softly, Eren closes his eyes again and lets the feeling surround him, the feeling of Jean whispering in his ear and holding him, of Marco moving into him and shaking because of him, moaning his name and losing his composure so gorgeously. Eren whines, focusing on that, on the feeling of Marco’s hips trembling, of his cock filling him up so nicely. It all starts to blur together in gentle, insistent waves, his moans growing louder and his toes curling harder, and when Marco lets out this fucking broken, mind-blown little sob of Eren’s name and loses it, Eren lets it all wash over him and sweep him away.

As Marco comes, he loses control slightly and gives Eren a few deep, grinding thrusts, slamming unevenly into him and whimpering for his boyfriends, and Jean breathes a rumbling little moan at the sight. Between them, Eren’s melting, every muscle tense for a split second before he goes boneless and lets out a loud, shivering moan. He lets Marco’s hips rock him as he tightens around him, coming untouched as promised, his face a flushed expression of utter bliss as he does so. His hips twitch up until he’s peaked out, earning him a breathless, “’S right, baby, ‘s right, we’ve got you—” from Jean that just sends him even higher.

It takes him a while to come off the high, his body content to float forever on those waves, but when he does, he opens his eyes and finds Marco grinning down at him, a goofy sort of tenderness shining from his eyes. He’s still catching his breath, but he’s leaned back and letting Eren relax as his body allows, both his hands and Jean’s running soothingly over him and easing him back down.

He hears both of his boyfriends murmuring warm ‘I love you’s, into his ears and against each other’s lips, and once he’s vaguely capable of speech again, he repeats the sentiment and paws weakly at them as he does.

“G-goddamn,” Eren wheezes after he’s gathered more of his brains, running a weak hand down his face with a sigh. “Yeah, you guys win, Jesus.”

“You looked so good, darling,” Marco purrs, resting his palms on Eren’s cheeks and leaning down to kiss him reverently.

“Both did,” Jean hums, digging his hands into Eren’s hair and scratching behind his ears, a move he knows renders Eren entirely limp. As if he could get more limp than he already is. He just huffs at Jean and becomes jelly, slowly uncurling around Marco.

“’S it always feel that good?” he slurs finally, trying his best not to fall asleep while Jean scratches him.

Marco hums as he cleans Eren off, doing his best with a damp napkin. “Depends, really. Like every other orgasm.”

“It was nice.”

“You gonna pass out?” Jean laughs, leaning over to peer into Eren’s glassy eyes.

Eren just nods and relaxes again, his eyes sliding closed. He hears Jean and Marco talking contently, kissing softly, and their voices soothe him further until he’s floating again.

They let him sleep until they get home, the drive much easier now that the freeway had plenty of time to clear up, and when he finally flops into bed, still wearing unfastened pants, he falls right back asleep, although he’ll never admit to the goofy smile spread across his face the whole damn night.

Chapter Text

In the summer of 2005, there really wasn’t shit-all to do. Get high, write songs, complain about the heat. Eren and Jean did each of those in droves.

Jean would never entertain delusions of being a smart fifteen-year-old, especially when it came to people around him. He’d never been great with people. Still isn’t.

July 15^th, 2005 is probably still the worst possible instance of Jean’s ineptitude.

For whatever reason, Jean and Eren decided to get baked and go to Ralph’s, the local upscale-ish grocery store. They hit the level of stoned-ness in which it made sense that neither of them remembered their wallets, though, so when they got to Ralph’s they couldn’t even get the snacks they’d gone for. Even worse, they couldn’t buy more gas, so when Jean’s car ran out just as they parked, it appeared that they were pretty much fucked.

They were more or less fine with it. Sitting in the car quickly became stifling, though, so they applied their best pothead logic to the situation and summarily ended up slouched in shopping carts in the empty space next to Jean’s beat-up, gasless car while they waited for Hitch to come bail them out. Eventually.

Eren picked at a hole in his ancient canvas sneaker with an outrageously cranky expression, mostly in interest of terrifying the Malibu-Botox soccer mom skittering past them with a cart full of healthy alternatives. Jean snickered at the way she held her purse closer to herself as she gave Eren a wide berth.

His own legs kicked up out of the wire basket, Jean sighed and stared up at his phone, devoid of any sort of notifications. They’d called Hitch forty-five minutes ago, and she’d smacked her gum and babbled something about Starbucks, but Jean was too stoned for her nonsense.

“Man,” Jean huffed, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “Why do people always look at you like you’re gonna rob them? ‘S like they’ve never seen an angry teenager before.”

“It’s not because I’m pissed off, it’s because I’m brown, stupid,” Eren replied, lacing his fingers behind his head. “You think you’re sick of it, try living it.”

Jean peered over, chewing on his lip, then shrugged. He knew people gave Eren shit for being dark, courtesy of his Pakistani father, but Jean hadn’t quite found a way to talk that shit over without somehow being insensitive. “Sorry, man, I—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eren interjected, sitting up to cross his arms on the wire edge of the cart. “Hey, the Mob has a show this weekend. You wanna bring Marco?”

Letting Eren change the subject, Jean shrugged again, frowning deeply at his nails. “I dunno.”

Eren raised his eyebrows. “You dunno? You go fucking everywhere with him, man.”

“It’s been… weird. Lately.”

“Weird how?”

Jean scoffed and threw his hands up, his fuse shorter than usual even with the weed in him. “I dunno.”

After a moment, Eren ran a hand through his shaggy hair and grumbled right back, never one to be out-grouched. “Whatever, dude. You gonna come, then?”

“Guess so.”

“Cool.”

They sat in silence for a while, Jean picking at his nails gloomily, until he finally cracked and asked, “Dude, can I tell you something?”

“I don’t know how to hide bodies.” Jean rolled his eyes somewhat impressively, but the look he cast over at Eren wiped the grin off the brunette’s face. “Yeah, man, anything. You know that.”

Jean seemed to consider Eren for a while, chewing on his already-jagged thumbnail, before he mumbled, “Like, anything? And you won’t, like, freak out?”

Eren raised his eyebrows. “Dude, you’re seriously wigging me out. Are you okay?”

“Yes, god,” Jean grumped, raking his hands through his hair. “It’s just. It’s weird. Stupid weird.”

“Just fucking tell me already, man, you know I hate shit like this.”

Jean stared at his hands for another long minute anyway, before he cracked roughly every joint in his fingers and turned back to Eren. “I think I’m a little gay,” he wheezed, half-whispered in one jumbled breath that read more like a punch to the gut than a weird sideways admission.

The way Eren just blinked threw Jean for a loop. He’d expected something a little more dramatic. At least more than one blink, for fuck’s sake. But nope, all he got out of Eren was a single, nonplussed blink.

“But not, like, super gay,” Jean babbled, looking nervously around the parking lot. “I don’t think.”

“What d’you mean you don’t think?”

Jean threw his hands up again, shifting noisily in his cart before scooting it closer to Eren’s. “I think I’m just kinda gay for Marco. That’s why it’s been weird.”

“That’s not surprising,” Eren hummed, leaning back against the edge of his cart, fingers laced lazily behind his head. “Everyone’s a little gay for Marco. Shit, I’m a little gay for Marco.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, man, he’s cute for a dude.”

“I know,” Jean sighed miserably, leaning his chin down on the cart.

“So ask him out.”

Jean coughed up roughly a lung and a half before he found himself capable of replying, already ready to move into one of his spastic screaming fits before he remembered that they’re sitting in a fucking Ralph’s parking lot with scandalized soccer moms eyeballing them. “Dude, what if he’s not gay? He’s, like, one of my best friends.”

“Marco wouldn’t get weirded out,” Eren mumbled, looking over at Jean with an expression dangerously approaching pitying. “He’d just turn you down if he’s not interested.”

Staring at his hands again, Jean mulled that over. Eren was probably right. Marco didn’t have a mean bone in his whole damn body. He was just that nice-ass dude with a billion little siblings that made him even sweeter.

“Well, what if I’m not gay?” Jean barked after a minute, staring back up at Eren. “I don’t think I could take it in the ass, man, that’s weird. I’ve never even kissed a dude. What if it’s gross?”

Eren rolled his eyes again, his gaze lingering on sparse white clouds rolling overhead. He hesitated for a beat, chewing on his lip, before he sat up and looked over at Jean, keeping his face carefully neutral. “One way to find out.”

It took a shamefully long moment, but Jean finally connected the dots, his eyebrows shooting into his hair. “What, like a gay litmus test?”

“The fuck is a litmus test?”

Jean rolled his eyes. “It’s a chemistry thing, saw it in Bitch’s homework last night. Ugh, never mind. Just—” He ran his hands through his hair again, and once more for good measure, his bangs starting to stick up absurdly with sweat. “A-are you serious? Or are you fucking with me?”

Snorting loudly, Eren gave a lopsided shrug and turned to stare out over the parking lot. “Just lips on lips, man. Nothing new to either of us.” Jean hesitated further, fidgeting with his fingers. “You don’t gotta.”

The silence ticked thick between them, the anxious rhythm of Jean’s thumb against a rung of his cart somehow mute under words yet unspoken. It ticked, ticked, until Eren’s own fidgeting started adding to the beat, and until Jean finally looked up at Eren and steeled himself with a nod.

Eren couldn’t help but laugh at his constipated expression before he leaned closer and gestured Jean over. Jean’s eyes slid closed, so he missed the dark flicker that sparked through Eren’s eyes, but his imagination was clearly somewhere else and Eren wasn’t one to fuck with that. He just reached over and curled his fingers over the base of Jean’s skull, angling him and bringing him in.

When their lips brushed, Eren’s eyes fluttered closed too, but he stayed right where he was.

He was stealing something from Jean.

The little shock between their lips wasn’t his to taste, but he pressed closer anyway. He kissed him more firmly and searched for more of that, of the tiny bolts of lightning that flashed between them. Jean’s lips were soft against his, smooth and a little slick with cheap chapstick, and when Eren cautiously eased his tongue against the slight part in Jean’s lips, it tasted like fake fruit and electricity.

Jean responded, though, even though his eyes were shut tight. He sighed and opened up, and when Eren lost it and curled his tongue into Jean’s mouth, Jean met him in kind, and Eren melted for him.

He didn’t let his fingers tighten on the nape of Jean’s neck, nor did he let them surge up to card through sweet-smelling blonde. He stole from Jean some more, keeping himself desperately in line, reminding himself that these fireworks weren’t for him, and when Jean pulled away from the robbery, Eren let him.

A beat passed before Jean mumbled, “I still think I’m a little more gay for Marco.”

Eren snorted loudly and leaned back, lounging in his shopping cart again to keep from betraying his hurt. “I’m definitely gayer for Marco.”

A while later, Hitch finally showed up, nine thousand of her friends in tow and a water-beaded frappuccino in hand, and Eren and Jean finally got gas and snacks and never spoke of it again.

Nothing to do in the summer of 2005 but get high, write songs, and complain about the heat. That night, Eren wrote a song called ‘Imagination,’ and for three months he harassed Jean about asking Marco out, until that October he finally fucking did.

Marco said yes.

--

Jean doesn’t know why he’s thinking about that day now. He’d just woken up with the Ralph’s parking lot on his brain, and it hadn’t gone away. Even worse, as he’d been trolling the internet, he’d come across some artsy photo edit of a boy with a guitar and the quote scribbled across the bottom had jacked him right across the face with the reality stick.

‘When someone else’s happiness is your happiness, that is love.’

Ten years later, and half a year with Eren held tight between himself and Marco, and Jean’s just now realizing what that day was.

It was Eren saying goodbye to his chance. It was Eren putting Jean’s and Marco’s happiness above his own. It was Eren dooming himself to a decade of pining, of hoping that one day he’d move on, of having to watch them fall deeper in love with each other.

The hardest part of the whole polyamory thing so far hasn’t been anything they’d expected. There’s no concern about jealousy, no worry about dividing their attention. Somehow they balance each other out like they were all made for each other, like they’re a puzzle with all their pieces finally sitting together the way they’re meant to.

No, the hardest part has been realizing that Eren’s been screaming for their attention for more than ten years, and that he never got over them. It’s been realizing what none of them ever figured out before. It’s been realizing that Eren’s been honest with them for years in his own way, and they were just too stupid to listen.

Jean fucking hates crying, but here he is doing it anyway.

Eren’s in the living room, playing his guitar and singing one of his newer songs, some mushy shit about hands in his, and Jean’s choking back tears over the bathroom sink about something he should have started feeling bad about the second it fucking happened.

He knows he’s not gonna be able to hide this from Eren. He’s too smart for that.

The song tapers off the way it does when Eren starts coming out of his zone, probably just realizing that Jean’s been gone for a while. He’s gonna tink idly at the strings for about a minute and a half, and then he’s gonna put the guitar down and really start wondering, so Jean decides to get it over with already.

Eren’s just set his guitar on the stand they’d set up for him when Jean tackles him from behind, wrapping his arms around Eren’s shoulders and leaning his forehead down against the nape of his neck.

“Jeez,” Eren sputters, reeling a little from the sudden force of it. “I was just wondering if you’d drowned.” Jean shakes his head, squeezing Eren tighter. “Hey, you okay?” Jean shakes his head again.

Eren shimmies around in Jean’s grip and tugs him close, soothing his hands across his boyfriend’s trembling shoulders. Jean burrows closer, which just makes Eren more worried, nudging him to try and get him to straighten up so he can see his face. Rather than own up to his puffy, tear-stained expression, though, Jean just turns them both toward the couch and walks Eren back until he trips and they fall back into the cushions. Eren whuffs at Jean’s sparse weight on his chest, but immediately resumes his quest to get Jean to look at him.

“Baby, c’mon,” he urges, his hands gently pushing at Jean’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

The reply is quiet, cracked and hurt and thick with tears, but Eren freezes immediately in understanding.

“Ralph’s parking lot.”

“O-oh.” Eren swallows and wraps his arms around Jean’s thin waist, letting the blonde cling to him with all his limbs. “You, uh. You still remember that?”

“’Course,” Jean squeaks, a fresh wave of tears soaking through Eren’s hair as he clears his throat. “’Course I remember. Fuck, Eren—”

“Is that why you’re cryin’? C’mon, Jean, it was ten years ago—”

Before Eren can wheeze his usual painfully-fake laugh, Jean blurts, “Stop.” Eren’s breath catches, his eyes widening when Jean sits up and glares down at him, his face flushed, bloodshot eyes brimming with tears. “Stop telling me not to worry about it. Stop telling me it’s okay, because it’s not.”

Eren swallows nervously, unsure of where to put his hands. They hover awkwardly between them, torn between touching Jean and not touching him, unable to move one way or another. Jean leans back in Eren’s lap, his shoulders sagging into a defeated slump as he stares down at his boyfriend and gives up fighting the tears. He rakes a hand through his hair and sighs before he speaks again.

“It’s not okay. I should’ve figured out what was happening. But I was stupid, I know I was. Me and Marco both. We were assholes to you. We didn’t listen or pay attention, and we didn’t even leave you alone. We just—fuck, I dunno. Sat right next to you being all in love and thinking everything was okay.”

“J-Jean—”

“Please, Eren,” Jean sobs, his fingers fisting weakly in Eren’s shirt. “Please let me apologize for once. Let me do this. I need you to know that I’m listening now, and how fucking sorry I am.”

Eren gnaws on his lip, but he nods, cautiously edging his shaking hands toward Jean’s. The blonde catches them, twining their fingers tightly and dipping quickly to kiss his knuckles. Eren tugs him closer, letting Jean kiss his hands for another moment longer before he retrieves one to wrap around Jean’s shoulders. He presses kisses over Jean’s temple, running his thumb soothingly over his boyfriend’s as the blonde trembles against him.

“I’m so sorry, Eren,” Jean whispers, shifting to lean his forehead against Eren’s. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry I kissed you in the Ralph’s parking lot and then laughed it off.” Jean presses soft kisses against Eren’s lips, nuzzling their noses together as he continues. “I’m sorry it took us ten fucking years to see that you were always so much more than our friend. ‘M sorry we’re still figuring out that we’ve liked you for so long. ‘M sorry we’re so goddamn stupid.”

His voice cracks again, but Jean’s still trying to find more ways to tell Eren he’s sorry when the brunette leans up and kisses him soundly, over and over again even with the salty taste of tears between them. Not that he’s counting, but he kisses him twice for every apology.

“I’m gonna say something that’s gonna make you wanna punch me,” Eren breathes, nudging Jean up to catch his bloodshot gaze again. “But please don’t, I’m still sore from the gym.”

Jean frowns, violently resisting Eren’s attempts to make him laugh things off again. “What?”

“It’s okay.” Eren shifts under Jean, carefully catching both of his pale hands before he starts yelling. “And I’m gonna tell you why it’s really okay.”

“Eren—”

“Hush, you.” Eren laces his fingers between Jean’s and kisses him again, sucking gently at his lower lip while the blonde huffs and wiggles. “It’s really okay, because I can do this now. The hand-holding, the kissing, the gazing stupidly into your stupid pretty eyes.” Jean relaxes again and blinks at Eren, who flashes him a wide grin, even with the tears starting to leak out of his own eyes. “I’m allowed to call you ‘baby’ and Marco ‘sweetheart’ now. I’m allowed to tell you guys I love you. I can put away all the songs I wrote about missing something I never had and write new ones about how extremely fucking gay I am for you two.”

Biting his lip against more tears, Jean squints down at Eren, squeezing him with his thighs and his fingers. He can’t quite find words, but that’s fine, because Eren isn’t done yet.

“It’s okay because I was always worried I’d have to live without either of you, or scrape one of you off the floor but not the other, but I didn’t. Instead, I get both of you. I get something I always wanted but could never imagine happening.” Eren tugs Jean back down and nuzzles him again, catching his lips in a warm, loving kiss. “I get the Jean and Marco I watched grow up together and be happy together. I get the Jean and Marco that still love each other too. ‘S worth ten years of writing sad songs. So I forgive you. Dummy.”

When Marco comes home, Jean still hasn’t quite stopped crying, but once Eren explains things, he understands entirely. He piles next to them on the couch, nuzzling into Eren’s shoulder and running his hands soothingly over Jean’s back until his breath stops hitching. They order takeout and watch a bad TV marathon under a pile of blankets on the couch, sandwiching Eren between them and letting him silence their apologies with undeniably forgiving kisses.

--

In the summer of 2008, there wasn’t too much to do but get high, go to parties, and fuck. Jean and Marco spent more than enough time doing all three, enjoying the last embers of their freedom between high school and college to the fullest.

They went to every basement show, spent every waking moment either with each other or with their friends, and everyone on the planet could see how wildly, disgustingly in love they were. It was no mystery. Jean and Marco, big gay husbands in the making, as Ymir liked to tease.

Everyone, including Eren, could see it.

The biggest basement show of the summer, lodged noisily in Connie’s unfinished basement, was memorable for Jean and Marco for all the wrong reasons. Grinding on each other in the back corner where no one could see them, a little high and a little drunk and a lot infatuated, even with near three years under their belts.

That show was memorable for Eren, too, for a lot of right reasons and one very big, very wrong reason.

Junkyard Skunk Mob had debuted a new song. The dedication to Jean wasn’t ironic, but he’d learned already that Jean and Marco were too far in love to really listen to what he was saying. He’d almost become numb to it, even lingering bitterness giving way to a sort of weird lost feeling. That’s not the big wrong reason. Shit, despite all that, he was really happy for them. He’d come to terms with the fact that he didn’t want either of them for himself, not more than he wanted to see them together.

No, the big wrong reason he remembered that night is because Jean and Marco hadn’t ground on each other where no one could see them, and Eren hadn’t turned away when he figured out what was happening.

He’d watched Marco whisper into Jean’s ear and paw at him while he basically fucked him through those tight, ripped jeans. He’d watched around the beer he shotgunned as Marco bit up Jean’s pale neck, and he’d crunched the can in his fist when Marco made this fucking incredible face, like he’d just jizzed in his pants right there in the crowd, and Eren wasn’t even mad.

God, he was hard, though.

It wasn’t even a jealousy boner. When he thought about it at night later, he didn’t put himself in Jean’s position, nor in Marco’s. He just replayed it as it was. Over and over.

--

A week later, Junkyard Skunk Mob was playing another basement show, and Marco went to that one solo on account of Jean catching some vicious summer bug. He jogged down into the basement with a big, sparkling grin on his face and his hands stuffed in his pockets, immediately moving to help Armin with a heavy amp once he caught sight of him struggling.

Eren discovered quickly that even when Marco was smiling and running a hand through his hair, leaning down slightly so he could hear Armin, the face he’d made a week before was still solidly cemented in Eren’s brain.

Marco excitedly recorded their show with a camera his parents bought him for his birthday, taking pictures and wobbly videos, and when the Mob’s set was done, he helped them break down without anyone having to ask.

“So you and Armin are gonna dorm together, right?” Marco asked later, leaning toward Eren where he’d sprawled across a cushy couch in the back corner. Eren nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. He reached into his pocket for his weed bag and set to rolling a joint, mostly to keep his hands busy.

“You and Jean too, yeah?”

“Yep, they approved it last week,” Marco hummed brightly. “He’s such a mess, though, you know? I hope I’m not gonna have to nag him to clean up.”

“You will.” Marco laughed amiably and conceded with a shrug. “You want in on this?” Eren asked, peering up at Marco as he sealed the rolling paper. Marco’s eyes barely hovered on Eren’s tongue as he smiled and nodded, shifting over to sit next to Eren on the couch.

They lit up just in time for another band to start their set, some lame ska trio from the rival county. When Eren loosened up a little and billowed smoke over at Marco, the brunette just laughed loudly and made a goofy show of biting at the cloud, trying and succeeding at bringing a roaring cackle out of Eren.

Another band, another joint, and a long, aimless conversation later found them melted across the couch, more than a little blazed, Eren’s legs sprawled comfortably across Marco’s lap. Mikasa, the designated stoner-wrangler, hadn’t come to round them up yet, but they weren’t particularly keen on moving anyway.

As people milled around them, lingering around after the show as usual, Marco blinked down at the camera on the table like he’d just remembered it existed. A lazy grin passed over his face as he picked it up and resumed taping Eren, who just raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms behind his head. “Are you excited for college?” Marco asked, mock-interview style.

Eren laughed and played along. “As long as the shows aren’t all in shitty basements.”

“I think you’ll break out of the basement scene before long,” Marco said, so genuinely that Eren couldn’t help but flush. “So what was your inspiration for that last song you played, what was it—”

“NASA Flunkie,” Eren mumbled, scratching the back of his head. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever lied about his inspiration for a song, but experience didn’t make him any better at it. “I dunno, I got stuck watching a Star Trek marathon and it kinda wrote itself, you know?”

“I really like that one line from it. ‘Galaxies of stars play across your lips, Milky Way that launched a thousand ships.’ It’s a really cool play on classical literature.”

Eren cleared his throat awkwardly before mumbling his thanks. He let the rest of that verse settle like dust between them, taking a swig of his room-temperature beer to fill the void where he was itching to finish.

“You’ve got a great voice, you know,” Marco said warmly, keeping the camera trained on Eren. “You always have, even when we were little. I don’t think you’ll be stuck in shitty basements for much longer.”

There wasn’t really a way for Eren to respond to that, not without opening his mouth and spilling every word he’d ever wanted to say like paint, so he didn’t. He just nodded and traced his thumb over the logo on his beer.

Of course Marco believed in him. He was never the type to be anything but encouraging. Where other people just shrugged and told Eren he could probably make it, though, Marco was always so fucking optimistic that Eren couldn’t help but want to reach for the stars.

Mikasa came by shortly after and stuffed them both in the truck, smooshed together in the middle between herself and Armin, and Marco smiled quietly out the window the whole way home.

That night, Eren wrote a song called ‘Shutterbug,’ and he was just buzzed enough to not judge himself for how long and how hard he thought about the flecks of fool’s gold in dark coffee eyes.

--

Marco hasn’t looked at this camera in years. He’s honestly surprised it’s even survived. Even more surprising is the fact that it still works when he plugs it in, photos and videos from that summer all preserved like a damn time capsule.

He smiles and backs them up before he curls up in his chair with his laptop and a mug of tea. Jean’s not home and Eren’s fast asleep in the bedroom still, adorably dwarfed in nothing but one of Marco’s big fuzzy sweaters, so it’s basically like Marco has the house to himself.

The quality isn’t anything to speak of, predictably awful for seven-year-old point-and-click camera footage. Marco watches them all anyway, recordings from various scattered shows over the course of those last hot months before college. He’s surprised by how well he remembers some of the Mob’s songs. They’ve changed over the years, especially as Eren’s style started evolving and edging more toward going solo, but Marco still finds that he can pick them out of the awful recordings.

He runs through videos, laughing at his friends’ and his own post-high-school stupidity, until he finds two at the top that he’d initially missed, the first ones he’d taken with the camera. They’re from the show he’d gone to without Jean, where he and Eren had baked in someone’s basement and just hung out together for the first time in a while.

Marco carefully puts his tea on the coffee table when he hits Eren talking about ‘NASA Flunkie.’ Mostly because he’s not stupid anymore, so even in the dark video, he can see Eren’s badly-masked caution about the question. He watches Eren construct his lie and sees right through it.

Moreover, he finds that he still knows the rest of that verse.

‘—but I flunked out of spaceman school. Final frontier’s no place for a fool. I’ll stay on the ground while your hero explores worlds dusted upon your hips.’

Eren’s basically impossible to wake up when he’s not ready to be conscious, so Marco doesn’t try. He just curls up behind him in bed and nuzzles into the nape of his neck, pressing soft, shaky little kisses there until Eren eventually starts to stir against him.

“Nrgh,” Eren grouses, pulling the blanket over both of their heads once he becomes aware of the daylight. He rolls over in Marco’s arms and burrows into his chest blearily, letting Marco wrap himself tighter around him once he’s settled. “Time’s it.”

“Dunno,” Marco whispers, burying his face in Eren’s hair. “It was nine-thirty when I came back to bed.”

“Blrgh.”

Shifting further, Eren nuzzles under Marco’s jaw and presses a soft kiss to his pulse, slowly rejoining the world of the living. As he attains consciousness, he realizes that the limbs cocooning him are trembling slightly, so he pulls himself up and peers at Marco with one squinted eye. “Hrngh?”

Marco swallows nervously, fiddling with Eren’s shaggy hair for a moment. “D’you remember that song, ‘NASA Flunkie?’” Eren nods slowly. “What, um. What was really your inspiration for writing it?”

Eren screws his face up and scratches his nails roughly through his hair, trying unsuccessfully to stuff more wakefulness into his skull. “Urff. Uh. Why?”

“I found the old videos from that summer, the basement shows? I was just, um. Just watching them.”

Definitely more awake, Eren leans back and looks over Marco’s anxious face, his bitten lips and his intensely guilty expression. “Oh.”

Marco’s eyes, already bloodshot, well up with tears, but before he can reach up to scrub them away, Eren takes his face in his bed-warm hands and presses up against his boyfriend. He catches tears that fall on his thumbs and kisses Marco gently, tangling their bare legs, then mumbles, “Man, what’s with you boys lately? First Jean, now you too?”

“Seems strange, huh,” Marco sighs, wrapping his arms around Eren’s waist and pulling him closer. “I guess the floodgates are open or something.”

“We’re gonna have to have a meeting,” Eren chuckles, sliding his arms around Marco’s neck. “No more buckets of apologies. I told you guys last time, you know? You and Jean. No more guilt.”

“I know…”

“So what’s this?”

“I dunno,” Marco murmurs, nuzzling Eren warmly, before he sighs again and closes his eyes. “You didn’t write ‘NASA Flunkie’ during a Star Trek marathon, did you.”

“Joke’s on you, I totally did. It just, uh. Influenced how I wrote what I was already thinking.”

Marco could ask what that is, but he’s not as dumb as he used to be. He just squeezes his wiry little boyfriend and mumbles guiltily, which Eren squashes with a million gentle kisses.

“Seriously, you two,” Eren says after a while, quirking a crooked smile at Marco and ruffling his hair. “No more of this, yeah? No more apologizing. Past is past, and I’m happy right where I am. D’you think we can put it behind us and move on?”

“I want to.” Marco rolls over Eren, resting his weight on his elbows. Eren squirms until he can hook his knees comfortably over Marco’s hips, arms still resting over his broad shoulders. “But I keep finding more reasons to remind you how much I love you, and more reasons to feel bad for not realizing it sooner.”

“Ohhh, my god,” Eren laughs, yanking Marco down onto his chest. “I’ll take the first part, but leave the second part wherever you find it, yeah? You realized it. That’s enough for me.”

Marco chokes on his reply, electing to instead nod into Eren’s neck, mostly because he feels like his boyfriend won’t appreciate the tears that are bubbling to the surface again. He spends the rest of the afternoon whispering sweet love into Eren’s ears, keeping him warm and comfortable until Jean comes home and crawls in with them, chilly from the winter air outside and more than willing to share his cold-numb hands.

--

In early May of 2014, there was plenty of productive shit to do for all three of them, but none of that had anything to do with why Jean met Eren for coffee that day.

“So, uh,” Jean said awkwardly, his hands stuffed stiffly in his pockets. “H-how’s it goin’ lately?”

Eren made a face at Jean and paid for his coffee, maintaining the expression as he walked backward toward the end of the coffee bar. Jean trailed after him, looking pretty much everywhere but at him. “Dude, seriously,” Eren laughed, leaning against the pickup counter. “What’s wrong with you? Are you on speed?”

“No,” Jean huffed, rolling his eyes. He still looked constipated, though, especially when he switched to crossing his arms too tight over his chest. “Just, uh. You know. Small talk.”

“You hate small talk.”

“I know!” Jean scrubbed his hands down his face, grabbing his coffee. It was still hot, but he was so used to burning his tongue that it didn’t even matter. He was pretty convinced that grad school ruined his mouth’s sense of temperature over the last two years, anyway. “You’re between girlfriends, right?”

Eren shrugged, grabbing his sugary iced coffee thing and turning on his heel. They left the coffee shop and ducked back out into the sunny spring air. Eren flicked his sunglasses out of his hair and onto his nose, lips still wrapped around his straw, which Jean was very obviously not watching.

“Dude, you’re making me nuts, you know I hate this shit. Spit it out.”

“Ugh,” Jean replied eloquently, nursing his coffee as they waited to cross the street. “Look, uh. Are you still pretty gay for Marco?”

Eren barely managed to aim his violent spit-take somewhere that wasn’t the old lady in front of him, but it was a dangerously close call. He coughed and apologized to her anyway, then turned on Jean, staring up at him over the rims of his sunglasses. “Seriously, dude, are you on drugs right now?”

“Never mind, Jesus,” Jean spat in one choked breath, hiding his misery in his still-hot coffee.

Eren let it go for approximately seven seconds. “Why the fuck—like—Jean, help me out, I’m fucking confused here.”

Curling in on himself, Jean’s eyes flicked nervously between his coffee and Eren and hastily back again until he finally mumbled what he was getting at. “D’you wanna have a threesome. There, fuck.” He looked around them for possible eavesdroppers before he checked back over at Eren, who was standing there with the strangest expression Jean had ever seen. Some bizarre mix of horror, amusement, and… something else, something Jean couldn’t put his finger on.

“Are—are you serious?” Eren croaked finally, his coffee shaking in his hand.

“Yeah, man.” Jean sighed and ran a hand down his face, leaning against the street sign. “We talked it over. We’ve only ever fucked each other, you know, not like that’s bad or anything, but like. I dunno, we both just kinda like the idea, and out of everyone we know, you’re probably our hottest friend. Also closest.”

“I’m. Flattered?” Eren rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the sidewalk between them. He’d pushed his sunglasses back up, though, so Jean couldn’t make out what was happening in Eren’s eyes. His body language screamed uncomfortable, but he’d also just been asked to pile into a big gay threesome. Probably understandable.

Jean shrugged it off, and when Eren was still biting his lip and rubbing, he waved his hands between them, oblivious to the hot coffee sloshing over his knuckles. “Don’t worry about it, man, pretend I didn’t say anything. Never came up.”

“No, no,” Eren sputtered, surprising them both. He pushed his sunglasses up into his hair and blinked up at Jean, but quickly looked away again. “I mean, I think I’d have to be high as hell, but uh. Yeah, I mean I guess?”

“You’re allowed to change your mind,” Jean mumbled, picking at his nails. “And I think I’d really rather you not. Be high. You know.”

“Why?”

Jean swallowed and shrugged, glancing up at Eren. “I wanna know you really wanna be there. Marco too, I bet. It wouldn’t be right if you weren’t all there with us, you know?”

Eren bit his lip again, searching Jean’s gaze for a beat longer than was strictly comfortable, before he nodded again. “Okay. Sure.”

“Nice. I mean, um. Cool,” Jean stammered, running a hand through his hair as a relieved grin spread over his face.

“When?” Eren glanced around again, then gave Jean a nervous side-eye. “Like right now?”

“N-no, um.” Jean shifted and pulled his phone out, cursing softly as he flicked through his calendar. “How does… uh. T-two Tuesdays from now?”

Eren tried really hard not to cackle at Jean’s expense, but it just didn’t work. He doubled over, barely managing to keep his grip on his coffee as he stifled his giggles and weathered Jean’s exasperated grimace. “Y-you gonna pencil me into your planner there, Bill Nye?”

“You wanna fuck my hot-ass boyfriend or not?”

That shaped Eren up real quick. “Oh. Um. Yes please.”

“Then shut it.”

“Yessir.”

“We’ll make you dinner.”

“Um. Okay.”

“Fine.”

They waffled for a moment longer before they finally crossed the street, and before too long they were back to normal, sprawled across a park bench until they ran out of coffee and Eren had to head out for work.

--

Two Tuesdays from then was a disaster.

Eren had a final in the afternoon, Jean got called away to the lab bright and early to contain a minor explosion, and Marco apparently had to give a talk that evening, but none of them had the balls to reschedule. Eren ended up coming over before Jean got back from the lab, and Marco made breakfast for them instead.

He was much cuter than Jean had been, badly hiding his shy glances over piles of bacon. They ate and talked comfortably until Jean rejoined them, ranting and raving about idiot research assistants, and after a really awkward segue into the bedroom, Marco finally leaned in and kissed Eren softly.

That morning, Eren found a few ways to make Marco melt under his hands. Some he learned from Jean, who was more than happy to teach him, and some he learned by himself, and between the two of them, they wrought a fucking symphony of gorgeous noises out of Marco.

It was everything Eren had ever wanted. He’d never wanted to take either of them from the other, and he never wanted to forget how Marco looked under him, nor how Jean’s mouth felt traveling hot up his sensitive neck. He never wanted to forget the taste of Jean’s sweat on Marco’s lips, nor the taste of Marco’s come on Jean’s tongue, nor the feeling of both of their hands and lips on him.

He let himself be lost in them that morning, until they were all exhausted and panting and wrapped loosely around each other.

At least, until Jean looked at the alarm clock and said, “Uh, Eren, didn’t you say you had a final at two?”

That afternoon, Eren landed in the exam room ten minutes late and blew through his final, and before he gave up on struggling against it, he wrote a song called ‘Double-Edged’ and ran right back into their still-welcoming arms.

--

“This is Eren’s first solo show in a while, right?” Marco yells over the crowd in the dark bar, leaning up on his toes to catch a glimpse of the stage their boyfriend would be performing on shortly.

“Yeah,” Jean shouts back as he hands Marco a beer. “He’s been trying to make a name for the Mob, but he said he wanted to do something else tonight.”

Marco shrugs, sipping his beer, and together they worm their way closer to the stage, finally finding a good vantage point just as Eren stomps into the spotlight and drops onto the chair set up for him.

Eren finds them easily, tossing them a lopsided grin as he rakes his bangs out of his eyes and settles his guitar on his thigh. “Hey, North Star Bar,” he rumbles into the mic, his smooth cadence taking control of the entire place. The din quiets, as much as can be expected, and Eren scans the crowd before he sighs and smiles softly. “You’re gonna hear three songs tonight. I’ve never played them for anyone, and after tonight, I’m retiring them. I don’t need ‘em anymore. And I’m really hoping,” his eyes flick over to Jean and Marco as his smile widens. “That two people I love very much will finally shut the hell up and send their guilt into retirement with these songs.”

The crowd whoops approvingly, and Eren gets right into it, closing his eyes and commanding their rapt attention once more.

Jean and Marco hold each other’s hands tightly as they watch Eren sing ‘Imagination,’ ‘Shutterbug,’ and ‘Double-Edged’ right into their damn graves, giving them a glorious send-off. This time, Eren’s songs aren’t lost on them, and when he emerges from backstage after breaking his set down, they’re waiting for him with a beer and a thousand bone-crushing hugs, and more than a few tears, but not of the guilty sort.

When they go home, Jean and Marco do their very best to show Eren how much they love him, whispering the words into his ears and against his lips and in hot trails over his dark skin, until he’s shaking between them and floating free right along with them, and he breathlessly returns their love in forgiving tides and trembling hands.

Chapter Text

“Aw, ma—”

“No buts, young man,” Jean’s mother scolds, shoving yet another garbage bag full of Jean’s old clothes from high school on top of the three he’s already juggling. He can’t quite see her face, between the crinkly pile and the ten inches he has on her, but he can still feel her no-nonsense stare. “You’re twenty-five now, almost twenty-six—”

“In five months!”

“It’s more than time for you to clean your old clothes out of our basement. Eight years I’ve been tripping over those bags every time I went to do laundry!”

Jean struggles over to the back door with the seven-thousand pounds of ancient clothes his mother’s forcing him to take. She does him the courtesy of opening the door so he can dump them in the backseat of the car. At least they’re clean, for all the good that does for the musk of ages that must be clinging to them.

“Ma, I probably don’t even fit into these anymore,” Jean huffs, closing the car door and slouching back over to his mother. She swats his back, pleased that the posture-straightening reflex hasn’t melted out of him yet. “Couldn’t you just take them to Goodwill or something?”

“Oh please,” she sighs, crossing her arms. “I’d never hear the end of it, and you know it. I know you, jellybean.”

“Ma, please,” Jean whines, looking around surreptitiously to make sure no one heard the nickname. “I’m twenty-five—”

“I know, honey, I know,” she chirps, reaching up to smoosh Jean’s cheeks. “And you’re on your way to being a big famous chemist, and no one calls chemists ‘jellybean.’ Ooh, your father and I are so proud of you. You’re like Dr. Manhattan.”

“He was a physicist, ma.”

Mrs. Kirschtein waves her hand and turns back into the house. “Will Marco’s family be joining us for Christmas this year?”

Jean straightens up, locking his car and skittering into the house after her. “Actually, uh, I wanted to ask you about that.”

He trails her up the stairs out of the basement, explaining along the way that maybe it’d be nice if Eren’s family could come too, because you know, they’ve all been friends for so long, and the more the merrier, and Jean promises to tidy up his hair and wear that Christmas sweater his mother loves so much, even if it’s really dumb.

--

Jean was right in his initial assessment; his ass is way too big for most of the ratty old clothes he pulls out of the bags.

Tucked deep in a little pile of abandoned boxers in the bottom of the last bag, though, Jean finds something entirely unexpected, and something he hasn’t been able to think about without wincing at some point since the summer before college.

Purely out of curiosity, and maybe for a private giggle or two, Jean tries it on.

If possible, it fits way better than it did eight years ago.

Old, disused gears begin to turn once more as he tucks the thing somewhere where neither of his boyfriends are likely to find it.

--

A week or so later, Marco’s gone all day to teach classes, and neither Jean nor Eren have shit to do for once, so Jean figures it might be the perfect opportunity to bring Eren in on his evil scheming.

Once he’s done sucking Eren’s dick, that is. Priorities.

Eren looks so good squirming in the sheets as Jean drives him nuts with his pierced tongue, stroking what doesn’t fit in his mouth in perfect time. Eren’s so goddamn thick, it’s hard to take all of him without choking. Not that Jean’s opposed to that, not in the least. Still, he makes good use of his hands, rubbing firmly with one while the other slides warmly over Eren’s tensing stomach, up to his fuzzy chest, where he ghosts the tips of his fingers gently over Eren’s nearly-healed pierced nipples. Eren whines and arches into the feeling, his shaking hands coming to fist weakly in Jean’s hair.

Humming mostly just to make Eren gasp, Jean closes his eyes and takes him deeper, hollowing his cheeks around him as he scratches his nails down through the neat trail of dark hair leading down Eren’s stomach. His boyfriend twitches up into his mouth and moans his name, spreading his thighs further.

“G-god, god Jean, ‘s fucking good…” Eren opens his bleary eyes to watch, panting heavily and rocking into Jean’s rhythm. Watching is near too much, though, sending chills coursing across his sweat-slick skin. “Fuck, baby, ‘m gonna come.”

Jean picks up his pace and strokes encouragingly, blinking up at Eren as he sucks and does something insane with his tongue, scratching his nails over Eren’s bony hips, and that’s enough.

Eren gasps Jean’s name as he comes, his head falling back and his back arching and his hands shifting to Jean’s shoulders so he doesn’t hold his poor boyfriend down and choke him. Jean swallows everything he’s given with a warm hum, stroking slowly until Eren’s tapped out before pulling off and licking his flushed lips. Eren’s already tugging at his arms, though, fucked-out and desperate to feel Jean against him.

He wraps himself around Jean like a sloth and kisses him breathlessly, moaning raggedly at the taste of his come on the blonde’s tongue. Jean purrs contently and slips his arms around Eren’s neck, happily accepting his raspy praises and murmured thanks and whispered love. Eren always gets super cuddly after getting sucked off, for some reason, but Jean’s not complaining. The brunette’s insanely toasty, and his wiry little body fits perfectly against Jean’s chest.

After more than a few sloppy, lazy kisses, Eren rolls over Jean and nuzzles him pointedly, mumbling, “D’you need—?”

Jean shakes his head, pulling Eren back down onto to his chest. “Truth be told, that was partially a bribe blowjob.”

“Oh god,” Eren moans, ducking into Jean’s neck dramatically. “What have I just sold my soul for.”

Laughing loudly, Jean tilts his head back for Eren’s lips, giving him more room to kiss slowly at his pulse. “’S optional, you big baby.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Eren murmurs, right before he sinks his teeth into the crook of Jean’s neck and starts sucking a dark little hickey into pale skin. Jean shivers under him, mouth dropping open on a quiet sigh. He remains thoroughly distracted until Eren pulls away with a slick pop, licking his lips and grinning triumphantly.

Jean rolls his eyes and digs one hand through Eren’s messy bedhead, pursing his lips and wondering where the hell to begin with this.

“Okay, so this one time in the summer before college, I kinda borrowed your sister for a super-secret weird shopping trip—”

Eren bolts upright, blinking down at his slowly-flushing boyfriend. “Is this about the Victoria’s Secret thing where she helped you buy thongs?”

Jean’s eyes widen comically as he gapes like a fish at Eren, face now extremely red. When he finds his voice, he wheezes, “Wait—she told you?!”

“Dude, Mikasa tells me everything. You know how she is.”

Jean pauses, running a hand through his hair. It’s not like he’d begged her not to, anyway. He glances up at Eren out of the corner of his eye. “And you, uh. You didn’t tell people?”

Instead of laughing, or making some long series of offended noises, Eren just stares at Jean for a moment. “Babe, I couldn’t even think the words ‘Jean Kirschtein wore lacy panties’ without getting so hard I’d pass out. No, I didn’t tell people. Besides, that’s a douche thing to do.”

“Tell that to Hitch,” Jean grumps.

“She found out?” Jean nods, throwing an arm over his eyes miserably. “And she told people? What an asshole.” Eight years later, and Jean still can’t think about it without feeling some weird mix of pissed and ashamed. Eren leans down on his chest, though, peering at him until Jean comes out of hiding and moves his hands to Eren’s waist.

“Anyway,” Jean huffs, closing his eyes in some flustered approximation of looking pensive. “Yeah, that happened. Um.”

Eren waits for a moment, resting his chin in his palm. Jean only seems to be sinking further into an embarrassed coma, though, so he decides to help him out. “How’d Marco like it?”

“Ohhh, my god.” Jean laughs and runs a hand down his face, then through his hair. “That’s kind of related to what I was bribing you for.” Jean grins up at Eren then, mischief written across his face plain as day. “You wanna fry Marco’s brain really bad?”

“I’m listening,” Eren says, always up for the chance to torment his boyfriends.

Surprisingly, Eren’s extremely receptive to Jean’s evil plan. Even more surprising, they don’t actually need to go shopping. A quick trip to Eren’s apartment, some brief shuffling in Marco’s end of the closet, and they’re ready to go.

--

“Alright, you know I’m not judging.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But why the hell do you have these just laying around?”

“They’re so much better than pants, dude. Warm as hell, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And they’re cute. Look at ‘em.”

“Oh, I am."

“Heh.”

--

When Marco basically flops into the apartment at the end of the day, dropping his bag by the door and slouching down the hall, Jean calls for him from the kitchen.

“Hey, love, welcome home.”

Marco leans against the doorway to the kitchen and runs a hand through his hair, pulling at his tie to let it hang a little looser. Jean’s doing something that smells nice and sugary in front of the stove, wearing a pair of giant, baggy sweatpants and that’s it. “You’re so shirtless,” Marco observes, tired eyes dipping down the curve of his boyfriend’s thin back.

“I see teaching hasn’t fried your powers of observation yet,” Jean teases as he switches the stove off and turns to Marco with a suspiciously playful smile. He sways over to the brunette and leans up for a warm kiss, smoothing his hands over his broad chest. “How was your day?”

“Blergh,” comes the eloquent response as Marco wraps his arms around Jean’s waist and buries his face in his shoulder. He kisses the mark Eren had left earlier with a pleased sigh, squeezing his boyfriend tighter before Jean squirms away and moves back to the stove. “Is Eren home?”

“Mhmm,” Jean hums, pouring whatever he’d been doing on the stove into a cup and covering it in a mountain of whipped cream. “He’s around.”

Marco squints at him, rubbing the back of his neck, but before he can question him, Jean’s pressing a giant, warm mug of hot chocolate into Marco’s hands and giving him a very interesting smirk. “Since you had a long day,” Jean purrs, guiding his boyfriend slowly backwards into the living room. “You probably wanna relax, right? Sit back for a while, drink your hot chocolate?”

“I, um.” Marco swallows, letting Jean direct him into his favorite cushy armchair. He stares up at his boyfriend, at the way he’s biting his lip and stepping back, before he notices that the floor of the living room has basically become a sea of pillows and blankets. He blinks widely, trying to coerce his tired brain into figuring out what Jean’s up to. “Jean, what—”

“Hey,” comes a low, rough voice in his ear, dark hands coming to rescue his dangerously-tilting hot chocolate. Eren sets the mug aside, then slides his palms down Marco’s chest, kissing his ear gently. Jean watches them with a grin, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his sweats. Marco blinks down at Eren’s arms, recognizing the sleeves of one of his giant, ridiculous Christmas sweaters with a vague laugh.

He’s already a little too warm, so Eren’s hands slipping his jacket off and unfastening his tie all the way are welcome attention. “You guys ambushing me or something?” Marco asks, settling comfortably into his chair.

“If you like,” Eren breathes, clever fingers moving to unfasten the first few buttons of Marco’s shirt. “We thought you might wanna watch a movie or something, but we couldn’t decide on anything on Netflix.”

“Oh yeah?” Marco laughs, leaning his head back. Eren kisses him eagerly, slipping his tongue between Marco’s lips with a hum before he sucks at his lower lip, then nudges at his jaw so he’s facing forward again.

Jean nods slowly, letting his gaze drag pointedly over Marco’s body. “You know, Marco,” he sighs, licking his lips and ‘casually’ pulling the hem of his sweatpants down enough that the brunette can catch a glimpse of the base of his thick cock. “I donated most of those old clothes to Goodwill, but I found a thing or two that still fits.”

“O-oh?”

“Yup.” Jean’s smirk widens, his eyes flashing dark as he juts his hips out temptingly. Eren chuckles low in Marco’s ear, dropping one hand to palm achingly slow over Marco’s already-hard cock through his pants. Marco moans, swallowing and arching up into the feeling. His eyes flick back up to Jean, though, when the blonde turns around and sways his ass lazily. He pulls his sweats down just enough to tease with the fabric under them, and the barest hint is enough to let Marco know he’s in for a rough fucking night. Swallowing again, his mouth incredibly dry, Marco bites his lip hard and peers up at Eren, who just gives him a suggestive grin and nudges his attention forward again.

“I never told you,” Jean breathes, peeking over his shoulder as he arches his back temptingly, much more confidently than he had years ago. “But I bought two. You’ve never seen this one.”

Marco can’t find it in himself to respond beyond a helpless whimper, rocking up into Eren’s hand as he watches.

Jean sighs and slips his thumbs around the hem of his sweats so he can tug them down slowly over his ass, showing Marco the pretty, lacy fabric of the black thong he’s wearing underneath. Marco slouches down in his chair with a low, breathy moan, his hands gripping the arms of his chair in a white-knuckled grip. When Jean kicks his pants away and turns around, grinning as he shows off the way the material barely contains his achingly-hard cock, Marco’s eyes shutter closed and his head falls back.

“I’m gonna die,” he whimpers, shivering so hard his teeth chatter.

Eren grins and gives him one last good squeeze, before he stands up straight and leaves Marco’s chest strangely cold.

“No dying,” Eren purrs, ruffling Marco’s hair roughly. “No moving, either. If you’re good, maybe we’ll let you touch yourself.”

“I’m gonna die.”

Jean laughs, and Marco opens his eyes in time to watch Eren sidle over to Jean, and that’s the first time he actually sees what Eren’s wearing.

He can’t seem to find his ragged voice anymore, but he’s now entirely sure that his heart is going to explode out of his chest, because his blood pressure just spiked so hard it left him dizzy.

Eren is indeed wearing one of Marco’s giant goofy Christmas sweaters. He’s also wearing a pair of black thigh-high stockings. And apparently nothing else. This theory is confirmed when Eren reaches up and wraps his arms around Jean’s neck, and the hem of the sweater rides up enough that Marco can see Eren’s bare ass.

He sinks further into his chair, his face flushed and dazed and his cock straining at his zipper, and Jean and Eren waste no time in kissing each other brainless. Jean reaches down and slides his fingers around Eren’s tight ass, squeezing and humming against his lips, before he looks back over at their molten boyfriend with a soft chuckle. “Marco, love?”

Marco only whimpers.

“This good by you?”

Marco nods frantically, squeezing the arms of his chair harder.

“Mm, good,” Jean sighs, leaning down and mouthing hot and wet up Eren’s neck. Eren breathes a low laugh and tilts his head back, biting his lip and grinning over at his boyfriend. Marco’s watching them intently, dry lips parted, twitching his hips up into nothing, already looking like his brains are leaking out of his ears. Just as Jean had promised.

Eren laughs again, letting his eyes shutter closed as Jean’s hands slide up under the sweater, easing it over his head and tossing it aside, leaving him in just the socks. Eren threads his fingers into Jean’s hair and tugs him back up to kiss him again, moaning at the way the blonde grabs his ass and pulls their hips flush together. He nips at Jean’s lips, murmuring softly to him, before he sinks right to his knees and mouths over Jean’s soaked cock through sheer lace.

Jean sighs raggedly and runs his fingers through Eren’s hair as Marco whimpers brainlessly at the sight. Eren hums and tugs the front of the thong down just enough, licking his lips at the way Jean’s slick cock bounces out before he swallows it down with a groan. Cursing under his breath, Jean rakes Eren’s bangs away from his face so he can watch him move. Eren bobs his head slowly, staring up at him with his fucking intense green eyes as he sucks hot and wet around him, teasing his piercing with his tongue whenever he pulls up.

Jean runs out of patience surprisingly quickly, but he’s been staring at Eren’s ass since before Marco came home, so he’s far more worked up than he’d like to admit.

Pulling out of Eren’s mouth with a raspy, murmured praise, Jean drops to his knees and pulls Eren back into a filthy, bitey kiss, curling one hand over the sensitive nape of his neck while the other drops to stroke his thick cock, dragging a rumbling moan out of the brunette. He kisses him back hard, pushing until Jean flops back onto a pile of pillows so Eren can straddle him easily.

The way they move ensures that Marco gets a perfect view from where he’s sitting, somehow still breathing as he watches his boyfriends run their hands over each other and along their fucking pretty, lacy lingerie, god. Marco swallows a few times, mouth still insanely dry.

Eren licks his lips and grinds his cock against Jean’s with a low moan, shifting the thong a little further out of the way so he can feel him, then leans over and fishes around under the pillows until he finds a strip of condoms. Jean’s already got the lube from god-knows-where, but rather than open it, he grins over at Marco in a way that screams ‘you’re doomed.’

“How ‘bout a little audience participation, hmm?” Jean nips at Eren’s kiss-swollen lips and tilts his head toward Marco. Eren nods and laughs, crawling over to their boyfriend and crossing his arms over Marco’s lap as he considers him.

“Mm, I know what you can do,” he hums, patting Marco’s thigh before he turns around again. He arches his ass out toward Marco and wiggles it temptingly, balanced on his hands and knees, and when Jean makes to hand him the lube, Marco just whines loudly and buries his face in his hands with a shudder.

Eren blinks at him over his shoulder, then up at Jean, who just laughs. “Blue screen of death. Give him a minute.” Another whimper from behind Eren agrees vaguely, followed by a shivering moan that sounds suspiciously like Marco’s jizzing himself, but if he is, he doesn’t say anything.

After taking a long moment to recover minimal brain function, Marco sits up and rolls his sleeves up over his elbows, then slicks his fingers with lube and leans forward. Jean smiles up at him, murmuring a soft encouragement, and when he moves to kneel in front of Eren, cock still hanging hard and heavy over the hem of his panties, Eren gladly leans forward and wraps his lips back around it. Moaning quietly, Jean arches his hips into his boyfriend’s mouth, running his fingers lovingly though his messy hair. Eren echoes the moan around his mouthful when Marco rests a warm, shaky hand on the small of his back and spreads lube over his entrance, cursing under his breath when his trembling fingers slip.

Marco gets himself together enough to slip a finger into his boyfriend, moaning weakly at the feeling. Eren hums and continues bobbing his head over Jean’s cock, wiggling back toward Marco again just to see if he can get another one of those choked, helpless noises, which he does. Thrusting his finger slowly, Marco licks his lips and watches them, blearily taking in the curve of Eren’s spine and the wide grin on Jean’s face. He moans softly and crooks his finger toward Eren’s stomach, earning a muffled whine, before he looks back up at Jean and silently begs for him.

Jean beckons him forward and leans over, enough to catch his lips in a messy, desperate kiss, winding his fingers into Marco’s hair and holding him still as he fucks his tongue into his mouth. Eren pulls off with a low moan beneath them, shifting to stroke Jean’s cock languidly so he can actually breathe while his boyfriends kiss.

As Jean pulls away, sliding his tongue across Marco’s lips gently, the brunette whimpers and bites his flushed lips, glancing down long enough to slide a second finger into Eren. His free hand slides to grip Eren’s dark hip as he looks back up at Jean, who grins and rests his hands on Marco’s cheeks, pulling him into another gentle, encouraging kiss.

“You okay with watching for a while, love?” Jean whispers, brushing Marco’s bangs off his brow. The brunette nods, leaning into Jean’s affection as he scissors his fingers and slides his free hand around to Eren’s stomach, dragging his fingers tenderly up his chest. “We won’t leave you hangin’, promise.”

“’K-kay,” Marco mumbles, his voice cracking slightly. He rests his forehead against Jean’s, then pulls back to look down at Eren, who’s watching as best he can over his shoulder. Jean sits back and eases Eren up until he can kiss him too, running his thumbs lovingly over his cheekbones as he swallows his boyfriend’s quiet moans. Marco scoots forward and, as he works a third finger inside, leans in so he can mouth breathlessly at the sensitive nape of Eren’s neck, nuzzling into his dark hair and biting gently.

Eren whimpers against Jean, clinging to his shoulder with one hand while the other catches Marco’s wandering fingers, his hips rocking in time to Marco’s easy pace. Once he’s grown impatient, though, he pulls away from Jean’s lips and moans insistently. Jean smiles and nudges their noses together, murmuring, “You ready, babe?”

“F-fuck yeah, c’mon,” Eren moans, twisting back to give Marco a quick, dirty kiss as he wiggles away from his curling, teasing fingers. Marco moans softly, fucking his tongue into Eren’s mouth just to make him shiver, but he leans back into his chair and wipes his fingers idly on his pants. Jean tosses him a reassuring smile right before Eren tackles him back onto his ass and grabs for the condoms again, his impatience coming through more the longer he has to wait.

Grinning up at Eren, Jean shifts them so Marco gets a good view, letting his needy boyfriend hastily roll a condom onto his flushed cock and slick it haphazardly. Eren crawls back over him and, reaching down to steady him, sinks down onto him with a noisy, shivering moan.

He tilts his head back and gasps as he rocks his hips down onto Jean’s thick cock, squeezing around him and wiggling until he’s seated on him, until Jean’s gripping his hips tight and arching his back and groaning his name breathlessly. He barely gives them any time to adjust before he’s moving, rolling his hips and shivering at the slight sting. Jean does his best to keep him still, trying not to arch up into his tight heat, but Eren fucking snarls at him and pushes his hands away from his hips.

Eren wastes no time in picking up a quick pace, rocking his hips back and forth easily and letting his eyes slip closed and his mouth open around quiet sighs as Jean moves inside him. Jean watches him almost disbelievingly, moaning at the way Eren’s grinding onto him in these gorgeous, fluid movements, not lifting himself up just yet. He’s just moving his hips in eager circles, getting used to Jean’s cock spreading him open, chills breaking out over his dark skin at the way Jean’s cock rubs inside of him.

Already, Marco’s broken the rules, palming himself as he watches, but neither Jean nor Eren are really cruel enough to deny him that. He’s soaked clear through his damn khakis with precome, losing himself in the way Eren’s rolling his hips and thoroughly enjoying the show he’s being given.

Eren braces his hands on Jean’s stomach and moves faster, moaning for him and curling his toes into the blankets. Jean’s fingers move over him again, not restraining him anymore, but appreciating. He rocks up as best he can into Eren’s urgent grinding, dragging his palms up the soft fabric of his thigh-highs, over his flexing hips, sliding as far up his arched back as he can before he slips his fingers around and brushes them over his pierced nipples. Eren’s head falls back, squeezing around Jean with a whimper, but he doesn’t make any indication that it hurts.

Still, Jean is gentle, rubbing his thumbs over pert nubs and gently touching the warm metal of the barbells, before he shifts to run his nails down his chest, over his tense stomach, and back to his hips. Eren licks his lips and looks down at him, his eyes dark with lust and his face flushed, before he leans forward and shifts his own hands to the blonde’s sweat-slick chest and finally lifts his hips.

When he sinks back down onto Jean’s cock, Eren lets his head drop forward as he whines his boyfriend’s name, grinding down against him and relishing the feeling of being so full. He lifts up again, though, and rocks down, speeding up until he’s leaning his weight on Jean’s chest and fucking slamming his hips down onto him, wringing breathless moans out of the blonde and returning them in little whimpers and gasps. Jean arches up into Eren, his heels digging into the floor and his hands grabbing at his ass as he moves, but he lets his boyfriend keep the pace. Eren keens and rides Jean roughly, eyes squeezed shut, fat cock bouncing against Jean’s pale stomach.

Marco’s brainless moans are barely audible under the wet slap of their hips, but they hear him, gasping their names and bucking up into his fist. He’s a fucking mess, slick precome everywhere and come already splattered up his bare chest and on his shirt from one orgasm. He didn’t let that stop him, though, instead stroking himself through it and shivering at the overstimulation until he was hard again. He’s hypersensitive, still shaking, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the way Eren fucks himself on Jean, and he can’t stop pulling desperately at his own soaked cock. Pausing only to slick his palm with lube, Marco sinks down in his chair and keeps jacking himself, playing with his sensitive foreskin and watching his boyfriends fuck each other.

Eren straightens up after a moment, grinding down onto Jean’s cock with a choked gasp, before he shifts back a little and moves his hands to the blonde’s thin thighs. He picks his rough pace back up, though, and breathes out a long, ragged moan at the way Jean hits him now, lifting his hips higher and riding down harder so he can feel Jean’s piercing in the best fucking way.

The view is too damn much for Jean, his noisy moans easily the loudest out of all three of them. He cries Eren’s name, bucking his cock up into his wiry little boyfriend, before he grits his teeth and sits up. Eren rams his hips down a few more times as he stares into Jean’s heated gaze, flushed lips parted around quick, ragged pants, his cock dragging wonderfully through the slick mess he’d already left on pale skin.

Jean fists his fingers roughly in Eren’s hair and yanks him in for a brutal kiss, his teeth nipping hard and his tongue fucking claiming him, before he wraps his hands around Eren’s wriggling hips and jerks him up and off his cock. Eren groans irritably, his brow furrowing, until Jean shoves him onto his back in the blankets and crawls between his legs.

Eren’s thighs wrap tight around Jean’s waist as the blonde slams his cock back into him, both of them moaning at the feeling. He gasps as Jean fucks into him, held over him on strong arms and bracing his knees to lend force to his thrusts, Eren’s back arching off the floor as his eyes roll shut from the intensity.

Moaning Eren’s name, Jean fucks him raw, his thrusts deep and fast and aimed just right to have his boyfriend whimpering for him. He’s not loud enough, though, not for Jean’s liking, and the pace keeps jolting him further along the blankets, away from Jean’s cock. The blonde bites his lip and manhandles Eren for moment, gripping his knees tight as he pulls them off his bucking hips and pins them to the floor so he’s bent in half. Eren’s desperate, squirming under Jean’s insistent hands, so he barely notices the stretch he’s not usually pliant enough to pull off. Jean leans over him, restraining Eren with his sparse weight, before he starts moving harder, pounding into him so hard Eren’s seeing stars.

He’s bent just so Jean’s cock fills him up perfectly, wringing louder, higher cries out of him as he tries to wiggle up into Jean’s savage pace, his dark thighs shaking and his nails scratching his boyfriend’s tense shoulders. The blonde moans for him, his eyes shuttering closed, but when Eren’s hands slip to Jean’s nipples, pinching them almost too tight and tugging slightly, Jean’s hips stutter and he chokes out a loud whine of Eren’s name. He blinks down at his own flushed chest, watching Eren’s fingers drive him crazy, the way his cock looks as he grinds it deep, before he starts ramming into him again, moaning noisily and arching into Eren’s hands.

“F-fuck, Eren, s-so fucking good—” Jean gasps, biting his lip hard. Eren keens in response, his fingers twitching hard before he spreads them and claws down Jean’s chest, down his stomach, his lips parting around a soft, wavering cry, his back arching as best he can while he’s being held down. Jean throws his head back and whines, then collapses onto his chest, moving to wrap his arms around Eren’s waist and hold him tight as he shakes for him. Eren squirms under him, wrapping his legs back around Jean’s thin waist and dragging his nails down his back again, his fingers slipping in the blonde’s sweat.

As he buries his face in Eren’s neck, whimpering and losing his steady rhythm, Jean moans his boyfriend’s name desperately and warns, “Fuck, I’m gonna come, g-gonna come gonna come—”

“C-c’mon,” Eren keens, tightening his thighs’ grip on Jean and squeezing hard around his cock, crying out at the feeling. “C’mon, baby, come inside me, fuck—”

Jean cuts him off with a desperate cry of his name, bucking deep into him and trying desperately to hold him down onto his roughly-grinding cock as he comes for him, grinding his hips and shivering and pulling at Eren. The brunette moans, long and low, holding his quaking boyfriend tightly, tilting his head back for Jean’s teeth.

His hips slowing to a stop, Jean whimpers pathetically in Eren’s ear and clings to him, pawing at his hips and his thighs and his ass, completely overcome.

Marco had stopped jacking off a while ago, too fucking sensitive between having already gotten off once and watching that, so he just moans softly and digs his clean hand roughly into his hair as Jean comes off his high. Eren’s still squirming, though, still panting and biting his lip even as he patiently lets Jean rock feebly into his already-sore ass.

By the time Jean’s anywhere near conscious again, Marco’s already kneeling beside them, his hands resting on Eren’s flushed cheeks as he kisses him desperately, messy and wet-sounding. Jean groans and runs his hands down Eren’s sweat-slick stomach, bracing him as he carefully pulls out, acutely aware of Eren’s wince. The brunette’s laughing, though, leaning up on one elbow and kissing Marco back just as hard, tangling his fingers into his hair. Jean tugs Marco’s thoroughly-debauched shirt off his shoulders with a little coaxing, then leans over and kisses across to his neck. He runs his tongue gently through Marco’s sweat, his own heart still pounding as he reaches down and wraps his fingers around Marco’s cock.

He’s still sensitive, though, having gone overboard with his hand, so he shudders and quickly catches Jean’s wrist with a whimper. “’S t-too much, babe, p-please,” he whines, shifting over so he can kiss Jean too. Eren licks his lips and watches his boyfriends make out, running his hand gently up Marco’s tense stomach as he does.

Jean kneels and takes control of their kiss once the fog in his brain has cleared, reaching down to carefully remove and tie off the condom. He grins at Marco and tucks his cock right back into his precome-soaked panties, snapping the hem cheekily just for the way it makes Marco’s eyes glaze over for a moment.

“What d’you want, love?” Jean murmurs, slinking behind Marco and running his pierced tongue over his flushed ear. Eren flops back and laces his fingers lazily under his head, his cock still achingly hard and dripping onto the slick, dark curls trailing down from his navel. Marco moans and leans back into Jean’s chest, reaching back to tangle his fingers in mussed, damp blonde. “C’mon, you’re so hard, baby, gotta want something.” Jean flicks his gaze to Eren’s, grinning right back at him before he rasps, “You want Eren to fuck you?”

Marco shivers, squeezing his eyes shut. Eren sits up with a groan, rumbling something harmlessly snarky under his breath as he scoots to kneel in front of Marco and pointedly tugs his rumpled stockings back up where they belong.

Watching with bleary eyes, Marco stares down at Eren’s hard cock, arched up against his stomach. He can’t quite get rid of the image of those gorgeous thighs wrapped around Jean’s pale, thong-clad hips yet. Not that he ever really wants to. It’s distracting, though, and it’s incredibly hard to think about what he wants between that wet daydream and the ache in his own oversensitive cock.

“What d’you think, sweetheart,” Eren rumbles, leaning in for a slow, filthy kiss, wringing a ragged gasp out of Marco with his tongue alone. He reaches down and runs a finger up Marco’s flushed arousal, eating up the way the brunette jumps and whimpers, before he wraps his hand around his own cock and gives himself one loose, easy stroke. “Want this?”

“No way you can fuck either of us, with as sensitive as you are,” Jean murmurs against his ear, slowly guiding Marco up onto his shaking knees and pushing his soaked khakis down. “You’d end up losing it, fucking worst blue balls. How ‘bout it?”

“I’ll be so good to you,” Eren promises with a breathy chuckle. He sucks at Marco’s lower lip, running his knuckles gently down his boyfriend’s flushed, hot cheek. “Spread you out on your stomach right here and fill you up nice and slow, hmm? Build you up so good. Let you tell me when you want more. We’ll get you there, sweetheart, we got you.”

Marco shivers, his eyes sliding closed so his boyfriends’ voices can wash over his mind and take him over. He’s already fucking overwhelmed, his brains thoroughly scrambled even before watching Jean fuck Eren through the damn floor. He nods, though, and moans against Eren’s lips when the brunette surges forward and kisses him deeply, conscious only of that and of so many hands moving over him, wiping his come and his precome off him, soothing his shaking body and easing him out of the rest of his clothes.

Eren melts against Marco’s chest and cradles his jaw as he kisses him more, holding him tenderly and resting his cock against his hip. Jean’s moving around behind them, but he presses up against Marco’s back again and kisses across his shoulder as he rubs lube-slick fingers over Marco’s entrance.

Between Jean and Eren, they take care of Marco and keep him floating, whispering sweet love and eager praises to him and kissing him all over. Marco’s been edged for so long that he’s high from it, his hands coming to play weakly with the hems of Eren’s stockings as Jean works him open on his fingers. He’s not even frustrated, nor aching, barely needy. He’s content to fly between them, his cock hard against Eren’s stomach, leaning his head back onto Jean’s shoulder so Eren can mouth slow and hot down his throat. Jean nudges his ear, getting his attention and kissing him as he scissors two fingers inside Marco and tries to work a third into him. Marco’s tight, though, so fucking tight, just how he gets when he’s this kind of brainless.

Pulling his fingers out, Jean squirts more lube onto them, way more than Marco probably needs. He knows Eren, though, and he knows how thick Eren is, so he plays it safe and works a third finger into his boyfriend until he’s more relaxed around them. Marco whimpers into his mouth, then pulls away with a low moan and wiggles back into Jean’s hand. Eren kisses up to his lips and runs his tongue along them, then slides over to catch Jean’s lips again, sharing a lazy, dazed kiss with him too.

“Please,” Marco whines, his hands squeezing Eren’s hips. “P-please, ‘m ready, c’mon.”

“Mm, impatient,” Eren hums, coaxing Marco into looking at him again. “You ready for me, love?”

“Yes,” Marco sighs, swallowing and leaning forward for another brief, warm kiss. “I want you, please?”

“He good, Jean?” Eren asks, not moving his gaze from Marco’s. The blonde hums his affirmative, though, and Eren shifts aside so they can ease Marco down onto his stomach. Shivering and arching his hips up so his cock isn’t pinned under him, he spreads his thighs nice and wide to give Eren plenty of room. He whines when Jean pulls his fingers out, but buries his face in a pillow and waits patiently while Eren rifles around for his condoms.

“Shit, Jean,” he mumbles, feeling around in the blankets, “Have you seen ‘em?”

“What, your fat-dick condoms?” Jean laughs as he tosses one to him. Eren grins back at him, reaching over and yanking him into a deep kiss as he rips the condom open and rolls it onto his aching cock with a shiver. Jean hums, nipping at his lips playfully and running one hand gently across the small of Marco’s back, before he asks, “Where d’you guys want me?”

Eren sticks his tongue out and ponders as he slicks yet more lube over himself. “Marco? Any ideas?”

Marco’s reply is airy, half-muffled by the pillow he’s squeezing. “You hard yet?”

Snorting loudly, Jean brushes his lips over Eren’s again, then flops down next to Marco and snuggles up beside him. “Don’t think it’s gonna happen, love. Kinda jizzed my brains out. Sorry.”

The way Marco pouts and grumps is fucking adorable, even with the way he wiggles his ass toward Eren. Eren swallows loudly, kneeling between his boyfriend’s long, spread thighs and resting his hands lightly on his incredible ass.

“Why,” Jean laughs, carding his fingers through Marco’s cowlick-ridden hair, stuck up from raking his fingers through it all evening. “You wanted to mouth me off through my panties again?”

“Fuuuck,” Marco moans, his eyes sliding shut as he bites his lip. He cracks one eye to peer down at Jean’s dick, shivering when he takes in that thong again. Not like he’d forgotten about it just yet, but goddamn. “Yeah, w-would’ve been nice.”

Jean grins and looks over at Eren, who’s still waiting patiently, before he pokes him with his foot and looks pointedly at his stiff cock. Eren raises his eyebrows questioningly, but he shifts closer and rubs slowly against Marco’s entrance, silently asking permission.

“C’mon, Eren,” Marco murmurs dreamily, arching his hips up further. Eren groans appreciatively, then steadies himself and slowly presses into Marco’s incredible heat. Even with all the lube and the prep, he’s still tight, gasping at the way Eren fills him up and spreads him open. Once Eren’s hips press against his ass, Marco shivers and lets out this pleased little moan, slowly relaxing around his boyfriend.

“L-let me know when,” Eren rasps, unable to tear his eyes away from where Marco’s stretched around him and taking him so perfectly, as much as the sight tries his patience.

“’F you can’t get hard again,” Marco says after a while, peering back up at Jean. “Just stay here ‘n kiss me, yeah?”

“Mm, ‘course,” Jean purrs, making himself comfortable beside them and leaning in to do just that. Marco graciously shares his pillow with him, kissing him slow and deep, one shaking hand resting on the blonde’s cheek.

Eren grins down at them, licking his lips before sighing, “God, you two look so damn good. Fuckin’ cute bastards.”

“That means you too,” Marco replies, gesturing Eren closer and twisting to brush their lips together. “You’re the one in stockings.”

“Don’t make me cute,” Eren huffs, the effect ruined by his warm, lovestruck smile. He leans down over Marco, resting on his forearms, and stretches to drag his lips over his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Ah, Eren, stay there?” Marco wiggles under him, his fingers curling gently around the nape of Jean’s neck. “You’re nice and warm…”

“’Course.”

“Mmkay. C’mon, darling,” Marco finally whispers, rocking his hips up against Eren and wringing a rumbling moan out of him. Eren rests his forehead against Marco’s shoulder and takes a moment to get himself together before he starts rocking his hips into him, moving slow and steady and so deep, already at the perfect angle to hit Marco where he wants it the most. Marco gasps under him, moaning against Jean’s cheek.

It doesn’t take much to have Marco right back where he was, his eyes closed and his lips parted around sweet little mewls. Jean moans softly and runs his hand across Marco’s back, over Eren’s shoulder, combing through shaggy, tangled hair and scratching gently before he wiggles closer and catches Marco’s lips again. He swallows his boyfriend’s soft moans, laughing into him when Marco slides his hand down to rest idly over Jean’s still-soft cock. His thumb plays along the waistband of the panties, like he’s checking that they’re still there, before he starts rocking gently back into Eren’s even rhythm.

Eren gasps against Marco’s shoulder, his hands fisting in the blankets. He rolls his hips deeper, though, and whines his boyfriends’ names against Marco’s shoulder. His tongue flicks out to taste the brunette’s sweat, moaning at the taste. Jean’s fingers in his hair are just enough to soothe Eren, even with as fucking amazing as Marco feels around his cock, tight and hot and moving in perfect time with him. He sucks at his shoulder blade, just hard enough to leave a dark little mark right along the edge where it’s poking up at him, earning a breathy moan from Marco.

Jean makes good on his promise to keep kissing Marco, slithering his free arm under his chest and holding him closer. Marco’s flushed again, his moans breathing out shorter and more insistent as Eren rocks into him and sucks more little hickeys across his back. He pulls back from Jean’s lips for a moment to let out a low, shaky moan of Eren’s name, squeezing around him, before he gasps, “M-more, Eren? A-a little more, feels s-so good…”

Moaning his agreement, Eren shivers against Marco and rolls into him a little harder, pulling back a little farther, leaning up enough that he can watch the way Marco squirms under him. He’s panting against Jean’s lips, their kisses shallow, breathy, open-mouthed and growing needier. Eren groans softly, shifting his weight so he can slip his hand under Marco, sliding his palm reverently over his slick skin, across his chest, dragging his nails gently down his stomach until he can grip Marco’s steadily-shifting hip like an anchor. He bites along Marco’s shoulder again to keep himself from moving faster, but Marco’s moaning under him, already begging for more, flushed and breathless and so damn pretty.

Eren kisses Marco’s shoulder, then several more times, one for each of his hickeys and for the marks from his teeth, before he lifts himself above Marco on his hands and sets to fucking him harder.

It’s hard to keep it together with as tight as Marco is, as good as he looks spread out under Eren and keening into Jean’s mouth, whining for more, harder, please until Eren’s thrusting steadily into him, the force of his hips rocking Marco’s limp body against the blankets. Jean wraps around him, though, holding him in place and kissing him soothingly, whispering soft praises to both of his boyfriends in turn, and it’s all Eren can do to keep his even rhythm.

Leaning his head back and giving a long, low moan of Marco’s name, Eren shifts closer, further over him, and pounds down harder into him, and the shift in angle leaves Marco squirming perfectly. He peers up at Eren over his shoulder, biting his lip hard and looking just this side of desperate, his ass bouncing amazingly against Eren’s hips.

“F-feels good, E-Eren,” Marco whimpers, his fingers twitching on Jean’s cock before he shifts to grab the blonde’s side so he can squeeze, holding tight to him. He lets his cheek fall back down against the pillow, but he doesn’t stop staring up at Eren, watching his boyfriend flush and moan for him. Eren shivers, licking his lips, before Marco gasps, “’M close, love, close…”

“You gonna come for us?” Eren asks breathlessly, his hips stuttering when Marco tightens around him and shivers. “What d’you need, baby?”

“Harder, please, please fuck me,” Marco gasps, grinding his ass back onto Eren’s cock with a wanton little cry. Jean grins up at Eren, then leans in to bite and suck at Marco’s earlobe, teasing another shaky noise out of him. Eren moans at the sound, then gives his boyfriend what he wants.

He shifts his knees apart wider and grips his boyfriend’s hip tight as he pounds his thick cock right down into Marco’s sweet spot, taking advantage of the fantastic angle his wide-spread thighs offer. Marco’s sounds grow louder, needier, before he shoves the pillow out from under his chest and sprawls across the floor, his spine arching harder, giving himself over even more to Eren’s increasingly-rougher thrusts. Jean whispers filthy praises to him, watching Eren with lust-dark eyes and running his hand up his strong, trembling arms as he tells Marco how good he’s doing, how pretty he looks, how nicely he’s taking Eren’s cock.

Eren squeezes his eyes shut and desperately holds on, even with Marco tightening, tightening around him, trying to get his boyfriend there before him. With the way he’s wailing Eren’s name, clawing desperately at the blankets and wiggling under him, he must be right there.

It’s when Jean slips his hand under Marco and just barely ghosts the tip of his finger through the brunette’s thick, dripping precome, breathing, “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet—” in this rough, dazed voice, and when Eren loses it a little and slams harder into him, the sound loud in the humid air, that Marco’s breath hitches, catching as his eyes roll closed, before he’s crying out for both his boyfriends, his voice so loud and so perfect as he comes for them.

His voice echoes through their apartment, breathy and needy, a jumbled mix of his boyfriends’ names, their pet names, shaky curses and pleas and moans letting them know how fucking good he feels. Eren bucks deeper, his own rattling moans growing in volume before he collapses against Marco’s back and comes too, his hips moving hard as he falls.

Jean watches them with a long, breathless moan, letting Marco’s come splatter into his palm, dripping between his fingers and down his wrist. He watches them come together, Eren clinging tight and wringing the last sparks of pleasure out of Marco before he can’t anymore, and they both shiver helplessly.

Just as Marco’s thighs give out, Jean pulls his dripping hand out from under them, letting Marco’s come drip onto his own pale stomach without much care for the mess. He’s much more interested in the giant, dreamy grin spread across Marco’s face, and how incredibly fucked-out Eren looks, panting against his shoulder. Jean laughs quietly, then flops onto his back, eyes sliding closed.

It takes a while for everyone to catch their breath and come down, warm and salty with sweat and so content with it. Eren’s absurdly careful as he pulls out of Marco, whispering softly to him, before he climbs over to Jean and dips to kiss him deep and messy. Jean chuckles and slides his clean hand through Eren’s hair, tucking it behind his ear before his hand falls to his shoulder and squeezes encouragingly.

Eren and Jean bounce back way faster than Marco, but that’s about average. They get their floppy boyfriend cleaned up and at least kinda wiped down before they carry his ass to the bed and make a warm, snuggly sandwich out of him. Marco doesn’t mind being spoiled, not with as insanely relaxed as he feels after that.

--

Once Marco’s passed out, warm and cozy under a few thick blankets, Jean and Eren slink out into the living room to get everything cleaned up. It’d probably go faster if they didn’t stop to make out every time they drifted close, but whatever. They’ve got time.

As Eren’s standing in the living room, pursing his lips at Marco’s untouched hot chocolate, Jean sneaks up behind him and melts against his back, kissing his neck lovingly.

“Stay the night,” the blonde mumbles, nuzzling into Eren’s hair.

“Again?”

Jean pauses, then nods, slipping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and squeezing. “Think how happy Marco’ll be after a whole night of being cuddled.” Eren shifts, leaning back into him with a warm sigh. “And me, too. I want you to stay too.”

“Mm, alright, alright,” Eren chuckles, reaching his hands back and lacing his fingers against the back of Jean’s head.

Jean presses a few more kisses against him, then drags his lips around until he can press them behind Eren’s ear with a low hum. “Stay a while.”

“Yeah?” Jean nods. “How long?”

It takes a moment for the blonde to reply, his fingers tracing idle circles through dark curls, until he whispers, “Move in.”

Eren freezes against him, then peels away and turns to stare up at Jean, who’s rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at him shyly. He keeps staring, the same way he had when Jean had first approached him, and how he had when they’d asked him to go out with them, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“I-I’ll—” His voice cracking, Eren stops and clears his throat, raking a hand through his hair and wincing when he hits serious tangles. “I, um.”

“Don’t gotta answer right now.” Jean steps forward carefully, resting his hand on Eren’s hip. “Just think about it. Marco wants it too. Talked it over last night. We miss you when you’re not here. ‘S three of us, yeah?”

Eren nods vacantly, blinking down at Jean’s chest. “I’ll think about it, yeah,” he rasps finally, his brow furrowing slightly. Jean nods in return and dips to brush his lips against Eren’s forehead, kissing until his frown lines fade away again. Eren sighs slowly, his eyes sliding closed and a lopsided smile spreading across his face as he presses against Jean and leans into his pale neck.

He’s got time to think about it. The lease on his apartment isn’t up for another month.

Eren’s never really been one of those ‘think it over’ types, though. He already knows how he’s gonna answer as he loops his arms around Jean’s thin waist and snaps the band of his thong against his hip just to be obnoxious.

Chapter Text

Movies

If you asked Eren recently what the hardest part of adjusting to having two boyfriends is, the way he’d wrinkle his nose in response to the question might be alarming. His answer, though, has never failed to pleasantly surprise.

--

“Fucking Netflix.”

Jean rolls his eyes and stares over at his grumpy little boyfriend, handing the XBox controller to Marco as he turns to face Eren. “Dude, if you had your way, we’d watch nothing but Adventure Time.”

“And?”

“Your giant crush on Marceline has ruled this living room for long enough.”

Eren grumbles and slouches further, sticking his tongue out at Jean. The blonde returns fire, though, and asserts himself right into Eren’s space so he can ruffle his already-shaggy hair and insult his taste in TV-watching some more.

“Ooh,” Marco chirps, grinning over at the loudly-cursing dude pile at the other end of the couch. “They have the Muppet Christmas Carol!”

“No way, man,” Jean chokes out, struggling against Eren’s extremely effective headlock. “We’re just gonna have to watch it again when we go to your parents’ house on Christmas Eve.”

“Mm, I guess,” he sighs, continuing his search through their limitless options. “Maybe we should finally start Sons of Anarchy, I keep hearing good things about it...”

“From who?” Eren barks from where he’s hanging halfway off the couch. “No one talks about that show. It got swept under the rug by Breaking Bad.”

“For good reason,” Jean says, mercilessly tickling Eren’s exposed, fuzzy belly. “Breaking Bad is incredible. Hey, maybe we should rewatch that.”

“I’m not emotionally prepared for that yet.” Marco shivers and keeps scrolling, tucking his feet safely under himself, away from Eren’s sneaky hands. “Are you guys even in the mood to watch anything? You look like you’re just gonna make out through whatever we end up picking.”

Jean peers up at Marco and mirrors his lopsided grin, right before he blows a loud, wet raspberry on Eren’s stomach. The brunette squawks indignantly, flailing up onto the couch and quickly tackling Jean back into the cushions. He lets Jean adjust so his head’s resting on Marco’s thigh before he perches on Jean’s lap victoriously, content with the arrangement. Not like Jean can argue, especially when Marco drops one hand to pet him idly while he scrolls.

They collectively give up after about forty-five minutes of fruitless browsing, once Eren flops onto Jean’s chest and preemptively makes out with him, sliding his hands under the blonde’s clothes in a way that successfully distracts both of his boyfriends at once.

--

Stockings

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to kill me,” Marco mumbles, running a hand through his hair, “Or if you’re genuinely unaware of how you look right now.” Eren blinks up at him from where he’s squinting at a page of rough lyrics before he grins widely and shifts his guitar in his lap.

“Would you rather I be naked?” Eren asks, crossing his arms on top of the instrument.

Marco raises his eyebrows and stares again at the few articles of clothing Eren is wearing, namely a giant sweater commandeered from his biggest boyfriend and his damn thigh-high stockings, and naught else. He’d quite taken to lounging around in the damn things ever since he and Jean made great use of them to torment Marco. The view is amazing, of course, but Marco can never focus on grading for too long before he glances over and once again revisits the memory of those thighs wrapped around Jean’s waist.

“They’re better than pants,” Eren continues, blowing his messy bangs out of his face with a short huff. “Like footie pajamas, except my dick’s out.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Marco wheezes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you know how distracting that thing is?”

Eren just smiles sweetly and wiggles his eyebrows.

When Jean comes out from his shower, still toweling his hair off, he can’t help but raise his own eyebrows at the picture Eren makes with his stockinged thighs draped over broad shoulders and Marco’s head firmly between them, but it doesn’t take him long at all to lend a helping hand.

--

Song

Eren has two song notebooks.

The first one is a battered, taped-together, coffee-stained composition notebook that everyone can recognize from sniping distance. He’s gone through dozens of the damn things, but somehow they always end up looking the same, right down to the wrinkly-ass pages. This one’s basically public property, too, full of songs he has no qualms about showing people, asking their opinion, testing out on them. It goes everywhere with him. Who knows when the muse’ll strike, sort of thing.

It’s filled to the borders of every page with messily-scrawled phrases, little doodles, and massive, scratchy scribbles over the shit that doesn’t work. Lines heavily crossed out, written around and across and over, his handwriting sloppy and huge or tiny and neat, depending on how much space he has and how excited he is. There are receipts stuck between the pages with more lyrics on the backs, scraps of napkins, nonsensical piles of nifty-sounding words juxtaposed with his simple grocery lists.

The songs here are truly Eren-style; strangely eloquent, a little bizarre, occasionally funny or sexy or a little sad. Perfect reflections of the parts of Eren everyone knows well, as if the way he carries himself and the way he moves were translated into half-legible words that sometimes follow the lines on the page.

The second notebook is in near-pristine condition, a green five-subject spiral notebook with the dividers ripped out. Only four other people even know it exists.

He’s had it since he was sixteen. Despite the age, though, the thing’s basically mint, and the songs written in it are neatly-recorded, flawless and obviously rewritten from other, messier scribblings. His handwriting is smooth and even, each letter painted with the same care that went into the song itself.

These songs are the ones he doesn’t tell people about, and that he doesn’t perform. Half of them barely even have a cohesive musical line to back them up. They’re closer to poetry than anything else. They’re the dark parts of him, the angry parts, the sad parts. They’re the parts that swore he’d move on, then the parts that slowly realized he couldn’t, and finally the parts that thank the stars he never did. They’re the parts that spark behind his eyes when Jean doesn’t notice him watching him work, or when Marco sings under his breath while he’s folding laundry.

Mikasa found it once, but when she realized what it was, she closed it and left it right where she’d found it, and never said a thing about it. Armin saw it once or twice, when Eren was struggling with a verse and couldn’t be subtle enough about where the words came from.

When Eren showed it to Jean and Marco, he didn’t have to explain why a simple green notebook carried with it such an impossible gravity, the profound density of Eren’s fierce emotions kept bottled in the yellowing pages. Even when he gave them permission to read through it, they couldn’t bring themselves to do it until Eren was sandwiched between them and within easy kissing range.

There are pages that he’s ripped out over time, pages that are stiff with layer upon layer of white-out, pages that only have a few lines before the words peter out into thick silence. There are pages whose particularly careful words somehow breathe a heavy sadness into the air around them, and pages whose words barely contain the explosive burn of how intensely Eren loves.

These songs are the deeper parts of Eren, the parts he keeps locked away in a little box in his chest until such a time as they see fit to twist themselves into letters and words and neat verses. These are the parts he can’t find ways to express through regular conversation, the words that somehow die on the tip of his tongue unless they’re teased out with the help of his guitar.

Between these two notebooks, Eren has ways of telling every part of his story. Sometimes the things he feels are clever enough to hide between messy scribbles in the composition notebook, sly enough that very few people will catch Eren’s lovestruck metaphorical confessions.

Sometimes, though, the way Jean reaches out and cards his fingers through Eren’s hair as he walks by or the way Marco mutters to himself in quiet Italian when he’s frustrated with his work leaves Eren lunging for a pen and some scrap paper, knowing that whatever turn of phrase he spins onto the lineless white page will clean up just perfectly enough to fit into the next blank space in the green notebook.

‘Never thought the stars would fall for me,
they just bent closer so I could see.
God, they’re prettier than I knew they’d be,
so I ran straight back to spaceman school
and took my old seat,
right where they knew I’d be.’

--

Surprise

“Baaaaaaaaaarf,” Eren warbles as he slumps deeper into the couch. His hands fall limp onto his guitar again, one thumb tapping lightly against the thick E string. “Words are dumb and weird.”

Jean glances over at his molten boyfriend from his computer. “That line’s really fucking you up, isn’t it.”

Nodding gloomily, Eren grabs his composition notebook and frowns up at it. “It’s the weakest part of the whole damn song. Like a sinkhole or some shit.”

With a hum, Jean sets his computer on the coffee table and pads over to the couch, snagging the notebook from Eren so he can take a look. He squints and tilts his head until he can read the lyrics, lips pursed, then pushes his glasses up into his hair. “The words look fine to me.”

Eren groans and moves his hands back to the strings, playing through the melody and singing the words again. “Tell me that doesn’t sound fucking weird, man.”

“Yeah, no, it does...” Jean stares down at the verse again, mentally rearranging and rewording to no avail. By themselves, the lyrics seem like they’d work well, but put with the melody, there’s arguably something off. “Here, play it again?”

Sighing quietly, Eren sits up and does so, tapping his toes to keep the time until he hits that one frustrating line.

“Oh, waitwait,” Jean blurts, setting the notebook aside and reaching his hands out for the guitar. “Can I?”

Eren raises his eyebrows. “You still play?”

With a haphazard shrug, Jean gently takes the guitar and settles it into his lap, his hunched lefty posture still a perfect mirror image of Eren’s even though it’s been more than a decade since the brunette taught him to play. “Here and there, when I’m not swamped. It’s like this, right?” Jean plays the verse slowly, a little haltingly, letting Eren correct a misplayed chord.

As Jean runs through the melody a few times, Eren combs a hand through his hair and watches thin, clever fingers pick at the strings. “I thought you stopped playing in college.”

“We just didn’t really jam in college,” Jean replies quietly, flicking his eyes up to Eren’s for a moment before dropping them almost guiltily back to the strings. He pauses, then starts the verse again, but this time plays a different series of chords over Eren’s problem line. Something a little jauntier, a little less melancholy. “What if you did that instead?”

“Do it again.” Jean does, and Eren sings the lyrics, his fingers idly playing along where they’re resting against his knees. “Shit, that is better, gimme.”

Eren takes the guitar back and runs the verse again, trying Jean’s suggestion for himself, and suddenly he hates that line significantly less.

He doesn’t push, knowing that Jean has a lot on his plate, but he doesn’t complain in the least when Jean digs his own guitar out of the closet, and when Marco comes home with a ton of Chinese takeout later that evening, Jean and Eren are still hunched on the couch, working through a new song written by both of them.

--

Sweaters

Somehow, without fail, Eren always manages to look better in Marco’s clothes than Marco does. Even the yoga pants, although Eren will never agree with that statement and Jean can’t even begin to judge objectively without losing his ability to brain. Marco’s got nearly a foot on Eren in height and he’s broader by half, but the way his clothes hang off Eren’s wiry little body always sets Marco’s heart beating just a little faster for a few good reasons.

Even before Eren, Marco had always liked sweaters. They’re wonderfully cozy, soft and thick and perfect for snowy winter evenings. Now, though, Marco loves them even more, especially when he’s not the one wearing them. Those same snowy winter evenings seem all the brighter when Eren’s curled up in one of Marco’s giant, fluffy sweaters, tiny enough that he gets lost in them, the hems of the sleeves bunched up around his rough knuckles and the collar loose enough that it almost hangs off his dark shoulder.

Marco finds himself buying sweaters a little bigger now, less for the fit or the style and more for how he imagines Eren will look in them when he inevitably steals them. If Eren notices Marco’s rapidly-expanding sweater collection, he doesn’t say anything, and Jean’s certainly not complaining in the least.

In late December, at one of the Mob’s bar shows, Eren wears the ridiculous green Christmas sweater he’d stolen from Marco a few weeks ago and an incredibly ridiculous pair of reindeer antlers, and he ironically covers that song about sweater weather with a giant, cheesy grin on his face and his eyes on Marco the entire time.

--

Lights

Even if their apartment wasn’t too small for an actual Christmas tree, they probably wouldn’t have one, mostly because Marco’s family’s tree is always big enough to mistake for a damn ent. Every December 1st, the Bodt colony gets a real pine, huge and fragrant, the kind of tree that requires a ladder and the occasional near-death experience to decorate. Even if they don’t see it every day, it’s more than enough tree for all three of them.

Still, Marco can’t let December go by without some kind of decoration, so he tacks strings of Christmas lights up along the walls, over doorframes and around the edges of the windows, just to add a little festivity to the place.

Eren really likes them.

They’re amazingly pretty, and they dye the apartment colorful like stained glass, especially when all the other lights are off and he sets them to slowly fade in and out in lazy patterns. He’d never really been one for holiday cheer before his first Christmas with his boyfriends. Not that he’s the Grinch or anything. He’s mostly just apathetic, with the exception of violent impatience with the constant, repetitive Christmas music everywhere they go.

Even that melts away, though, when he has hands to hold in each of his and he’s surrounded by his boyfriends’ warm, sure love in the soft twinkling of those bright colors late into the night.

--

Naughty or Nice

The debate over whether Christmas blowjobs count as ‘naughty’ or ‘nice’ is long-standing, and is really less of a debate and more a test of how long Marco can tease Jean about being a big Scrooge when Jean’s got Marco’s cock stuffed down his throat. Eren proves himself to be a terrible referee very early on, between his genuine lack of concern for his standing in Santa’s good graces and his targeted destruction of Marco’s already-feeble resistance.

It’s nearly impossible for Marco to remember clear instances of Jean’s humbuggery when Eren’s pressed against his back, holding him close and teasing him about how much better it is when they’re naughty, his hands running over Marco’s tensing muscles and threading encouragingly through Jean’s sleep-mussed hair.

Marco loses his train of thought entirely when Eren decides to play an even bigger part, shifting them around and whispering in his ear and driving him fucking crazy with his slow, even thrusts, until Marco’s clinging to his boyfriends and coming so hard he thinks he might pass out.

By the time they’re leaving to head to Jean’s family’s house for dinner, Marco’s still bright red, and no amount of projectiles he wings at Jean and Eren can get them to stop giggling about Marco’s desperate, brainless admission that he belongs on the naughty list.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Marco,” Eren murmurs, still tracing gentle fingers over his boyfriend’s bare chest. Marco presses a sleepy hum and a kiss into Eren’s bed-mussed hair to show he’s awake, more or less. “D’you remember when we had a cute blonde boyfriend?” It takes a moment, but Marco laughs, draping his half-dead arm around Eren’s shoulders. “God, it was like a hundred years ago... what was his name again?”

Rolling to face Eren fully, away from the bright afternoon sunlight, Marco smiles warmly and kisses his boyfriend’s nose. “He did kiss you goodbye before he left, you know. Like five hours ago.”

“That’s awful.” Eren grouses and wraps himself around Marco, burrowing grumpily into his shoulder.

Jean’s usually fairly busy, between teaching a few chem labs and seeing to his own shit as a grad student, but the last week or two have been absolute hell. He’s gone for most of the day, sometimes through the night, and by the time he makes it home he’s basically approaching comatose. This round of finals is horrifyingly life-consuming all around, so Eren and Marco do their very best to support and encourage him, but it’s obvious that Jean’s running on fumes.

Stretching as best he can without dislodging Eren, Marco yawns widely and reaches back for his phone to check his own schedule for the day. He hums when he sees a text from their zombie boyfriend.

“News from a distant planet,” Marco laughs, successfully luring Eren out of hiding. The text has a picture to go along with it, one of a severely burned-out Jean smooshing his cheek against the glass of a fume hood. He looks just about insane, all dark under-eye bags and frown lines, his lab goggles settled haphazardly in his messy hair. ‘two finals left to give two left just two that’s all one and then one more. that’s only. ssssssssix hours oh god please help me,’ reads the text, followed by some lengthy keyboard smash, and both Eren and Marco whine in extreme empathy.

“Look at him,” Eren says, leaning his forehead against Marco’s cheek. “What are they doing to our poor baby?”

“Dosing him with low-grade chemicals, it appears,” Marco hums, typing out a quick supportive reply. Jean texts him back surprisingly quickly. “He says he’s taking a day off tomorrow, even if he has to fake his own death.”

“Thank god for that.”

Marco hums, flicking back over to his calendar. “D’you work tomorrow?”

Eren yawns and nods. “Six am, bright and fuckin’ early.” Absurdly early morning shifts are a hazard of working at a coffee shop, even a weird hipster-y one on the east side, but at least starting early means he finishes early, too.

“Mm, you’ll beat me home by a few hours, then.” Marco leans over to kiss him softly. “You gonna take care of our mad scientist?”

“Oh, I’ll take care of him, alright,” Eren growls, nipping playfully at Marco’s lips. He pauses for a moment, though, then says, “Unless he’s still sleeping. Then I’ll probably leave him alone.”

Marco snorts, wrapping his arms lazily around Eren’s waist. “Normally I’d agree that he needs sleep, but honestly, when do you think the last time he got off was?”

“Unless he’s jerking off in his office, probably...” Eren’s eyes widen. “Jesus Christ, like two Tuesdays ago.”

“Oh my god, that poor boy,” Marco shudders, grimacing loudly. “Eren, please, for his own good.”

Eren nods solemnly, still trying to grasp the magnitude of Jean’s accidental chastity. “That’s gonna be a fucking mess, literally,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Do we have a tarp?”

Marco can’t help but laugh, loud and pretty, the sound bringing a grin to Eren’s face too.

“Try to save some for me, yeah?”

“Mm, I’ll do my best,” Eren sighs, pulling Marco into a deep, sweet kiss as he rolls over him and presses their bodies closer together.

--

When Jean stumbles in the door later that night, his boyfriends converge upon him and begin the healing process with a cheeseburger, a beer, and some quality snuggles on the couch. Jean makes it through half the beer and exactly eight minutes of Adventure Time before he blissfully passes the fuck out between them, drooling and softly snoring.

The next morning, Eren gives them both gentle kisses before he leaves, the predawn world dark and cold and somewhat rainy. He spends one half of his shift dealing with the morning rush, running the espresso machine on constant autopilot, and the other half texting Marco to share ideas on how to pamper the shit out of their overworked boyfriend. The second the clock strikes noon, he’s out the door, a bounce to his step despite the lingering chill and now-pouring rain.

(12:01pm) From: Marco♥♥♥
go go go! good luck!!!

--

Eren finds his boyfriend exactly as he’d hoped when he comes home: still in bed. Jean’s turtled deep in a giant hoodie, lazily poking at his laptop when Eren comes in with a wide grin.

“You’d better not be working,” he chides, tossing his soaked hoodie off to the side.

“Nope,” Jean replies, pushing his laptop to the side and reaching out for Eren. As the brunette laughs and jumps into bed, Jean continues, “I’ve been up for an hour already and I haven’t even checked my email. Hello to you too, by the way.”

“I’m so proud,” Eren teases, wrapping himself all around Jean and kissing him happily. “What’s your plan for today, then?”

“Jack doodly.” Jean rests his hands on Eren’s cheeks and kisses him again with a content hum. “I may not even leave the bed. Fuck the man.”

“That’s the spirit.” Eren grins and brushes Jean’s bangs off his face, leaning down to nudge their noses together. “Mm, missed you.”

Jean laughs, tugging playfully at Eren’s ear. “You say that like I was on Mars or something.”

“Basically were. You’re cute when you’re sleeping and all, but it’s hard to mess with you when you’re in a coma.”

“Yeah, well,” Jean huffs, settling his arms around Eren’s neck. “At least I’m done giving finals for right now. Just my own damn papers left.”

Eren hums in response, and when he dips to kiss Jean again, he lingers comfortably, eating up the opportunity to take his sweet time doing so. “So hey, since your calendar’s clear...” Grinning crookedly, Eren nuzzles into Jean’s ear and breathes, “How ‘bout you let me spoil you rotten? Job well done and all.”

Shivering slightly, Jean runs a hand through Eren’s messy hair as the brunette kisses warmly down his neck. “Are we talking foot rubs or marathon sex?”

“Dude, you hate it when I touch your feet.”

“So marathon sex.”

Eren leans over Jean on his elbows and sticks his tongue out between his teeth, waggling his eyebrows. “If your body can handle it after sleeping on that tiny thing you call a couch in your office.”

“Hey, insult my couch all you want, it’s a pillow-top California king when you haven’t slept in three days.” Before Eren can express his usual horror toward Jean’s tolerance for sleep deprivation, Jean grins sheepishly and says, “Anyway, I’m way ahead of you.”

Raising his eyebrows, Eren blinks for a moment before he turns to look at Jean’s computer, and yup. Porn. Specifically, a very nice picture from their boyfriend’s Super Secret stash of amateur sex selfies, starring Marco and an extremely flushed, fucked-out Jean.

“Ohhh, nice,” Eren says, leaning across Jean’s chest to click to the next picture. Marco had managed to time a shot just as Jean’s orgasm hit, his eyes squeezed shut, back arched tight off the bed, lips parted around what must be a sweet, pleasure-laced moan, and if that face wasn’t enough on its own, Marco’s expression is near reverent, watching Jean come with soft, loving eyes. Eren likes that whole photoshoot, but that picture is probably his absolute favorite. Maybe out of every picture he’s ever seen in all of his twenty-five years.

He hums and examines it for the millionth time, then turns to kiss Jean again, slow and deep and wonderfully promising. Jean sighs as he melts under him, letting Eren settle between his spread thighs, before he grins and tugs pointedly at his boyfriend’s shirt.

“Still can’t believe you guys have your own amateur porn library,” Eren muses, hauling his shirt over his head and tossing it off the bed. “D’you know how hot that is?”

“Mm, I have an idea,” Jean laughs, biting his lip as he pulls Eren down into another lazy kiss.

Eren sucks gently at Jean’s lips as his hands move over the lumpy fabric of his hoodie, murmuring, “So what’s goin’ on under here, hmm? You come yet?”

“Not yet. Feeling super lazy.”

With a soft groan, Eren slides his palms under the hem of the hoodie, pressing firmly up Jean’s thighs, over his bony hips, across his warm stomach. “Why don’t you let me take care of that for you, then.”

Jean sighs quietly, relaxing under Eren’s hands as they drag up to his chest, brushing his fingers slowly over Jean’s sensitive nipples. “You’re not planning on torturing me, are you?”

“Nah,” Eren hums, tweaking the blonde’s nipples teasingly. “Maybe later.” He grins at Jean’s brief protest, leaning down to run his tongue up his boyfriend’s ear in a way that has him shivering. “Told you, you’re gettin’ spoiled today. Gonna take good care of you.”

Moaning softly, Jean digs his fingers into Eren’s hair and pulls him back for more kisses, already squirming at the feeling of Eren toying with his nipples. He’s so sensitive, gasping against Eren’s lips and arching into his hands, so worked up from these bare touches that Eren can’t help but deepen the kiss with a low moan. When Jean shifts and rocks his amazingly hard cock against Eren’s thigh with a sweet little whine, Eren spares Marco a brief mental apology.

He said he’d to try and save some for when Marco comes home, but there’s no way around it.

Eren’s gonna wreck him.

He sits up and pulls Jean’s hoodie off, immediately ducking to bite teasingly at his flushed lips, until Jean leans back and grabs Eren’s hand. Grinning breathlessly, Jean squeezes gently, then presses the brunette’s palm to his pale chest, where his heart’s pounding against his ribs. He guides Eren’s hand achingly slow down his stomach, brushing over his cock, down along the smooth join of his thigh, and when he finally brings their fingers to a stop, Eren’s eyes widen, then roll shut.

With a ragged sigh, he sits back to make sure he’s not imagining the hard plastic against his fingertips, and sure enough, there’s the thick, flared base of Jean’s favorite vibrator deep inside him, spreading him open. It’s off for the moment, but that’s easily fixed.

“Fuck, look at you,” Eren rasps, flicking his burning gaze back up to Jean’s. “Always two steps ahead.” He settles over Jean on one forearm, fucking his tongue slowly into the blonde’s mouth as he reaches down and turns the toy on. Jean whimpers and arches back against Eren’s hand, shaky fingers coming to clutch his shoulders tightly. Pressing the toy deeper into Jean, Eren drinks in his hitched gasp with a rumbling hum of his own. “How long’ve you had this in you, hm?”

“B-bit,” Jean whispers, shivering at the low vibrations and the warmth of his boyfriend’s body over his. “Sh-showered when I woke up, put it in after...”

“You must be going nuts,” Eren breathes, kissing along Jean’s jaw to his ear with a low chuckle. “Did you turn it on?” Jean shakes his head, whining when Eren gently grinds the toy into him again. “Lazy boy, huh. You just like lying around with something inside you?” Eren settles comfortably to the side, enough that he can glance down and watch his hand move between Jean’s narrow thighs. He pulls the toy out slightly, flicking his eyes back to Jean’s face as he pushes it back inside, and the way his boyfriend moans and clings to him is tempting as all hell. He flicks his tongue between Jean’s lips, giving him another slow thrust, then murmurs, “Wonder how many times I can make you come today.”

“E-Eren, fuck,” Jean whimpers, spreading his thighs wider and rocking into his boyfriend’s languid pace.

“Want me to get you off like this, baby?” Eren grins and tilts the curved tip of the toy up along Jean’s prostate, wringing a choked moan out of him, his flushed cock already slick with precome. Jean nods quickly, his arms wrapping around Eren’s neck and dragging him back down for more needy, messy kisses. Eren hums, obliging Jean for a moment, before he picks up the pace with the vibrator.

Jean’s already relaxed around it, so the toy slides slick and easy into his tight heat, and it doesn’t take much to have the blonde trembling and moaning for him. When Jean stutters a soft plea for more, Eren turns the toy up, nuzzling his cheek and watching his spine arch as he fucks him with it, hard and steady and just right to have Jean brainless under him.

It’s obvious Jean’s gone ages without coming, with the way he spreads his thighs and moves his hips, with his frantic, breathy moans coming faster as Eren fucks him harder, with the way his nails drag across Eren’s dark shoulders. He turns the toy up again, the sound humming loud and rhythmic around them, and leans down to whisper, “You look so pretty, Jean. ‘S that feel good?” Jean nods again, whimpering his boyfriend’s name, earning himself a rough moan right against his ear. “You must wanna come so bad, huh? Go ahead, baby. Got the whole day to fuck you out. We’ll make up for lost time, so go ahead, I’ve got you.”

Jean’s desperate sounds pitch higher as he gets closer, squeezing tight around the vibrator, his eyes fluttering closed at the way it moves inside him. “B-babe, f-fuck,” he manages, bucking his hips and digging his heels into the bed. Eren’s keeping up with him perfectly, fucking him just fast enough, just hard enough that Jean can already feel his orgasm building, burning hot in his gut and lending urgency to his whines of Eren’s name. He can’t help but writhe under him, with Eren’s low, encouraging sounds breathed against his sensitive neck and the toy buzzing insistently all along his sweet spot. It’s been so damn long, though, he almost wants to savor the feeling, the tight build tensing his muscles and driving him crazier. He reaches down and palms firmly at Eren’s cock through his jeans, his aching hardness still trapped for some unfathomable reason, and the sound of Eren moaning brokenly and cursing has Jean gasping under him and squeezing him just the right side of tight.

Eren lets himself grind into Jean’s hand, matching his hard pace with the toy, and when he leans back up to watch Jean’s brightly-flushed face, he murmurs, “God, Jean, wanna fuck you... you’re so damn vocal today, so hot. ‘M gonna have you screaming for me, you feel how hard I am for you, yeah? Imagine how good it’ll feel inside you.” Jean’s eyes roll shut as his back arches, raking his nails down Eren’s bicep, head thrown back into the pillows as his voice grows louder, shakier, half-formed pleas and praises echoing around them until he’s crying out and begging shamelessly. Eren moans, fucking Jean on the toy just a little faster, angling it up harder, before he leans in and sinks his teeth into the warm crook of Jean’s neck, and that’s it.

Jean wails for him, hands scrabbling desperately at his shoulders, body tensing as his cock twitches and come slicks messily all up his stomach, up his chest in thick spurts. Eren works him through it, watching almost disbelievingly as the blonde keeps coming, his toes curling and his body shaking apart.

Once Jean’s peaked out, whimpering and jolting at the intensity of the toy still buzzing away inside him, Eren sits up and slowly turns it off. He eases it out and sets it aside, licking his lips, then pulls his phone out of his pocket as his gaze travels over Jean’s truly soaked torso, taking in the sheer amount of come pooling on his slick skin. Laughing dazedly, he rests his hand on Jean’s hip and says, “Jesus, Jean. Can I take a picture of that? Because that’s just fucking impressive.”

Somehow, Jean finds it in him to nod, his body still limp and twitching as he recovers. He hears Eren take a picture, breathing a shuddering sigh, before his boyfriend’s lips gently, gratefully find his again.

“Marco’s gonna lose it when he sees this,” Eren mumbles, tapping out a quick, badly-spelled text to their boyfriend. Jean fists his hands weakly in the sheets, shivering slightly, before he cracks one eye open and glances down at his chest.

“H-holy shit.”

“Yeah. Backed up much?”

If ever there was an accurate portrayal of the phrase ‘came buckets,’ it’d be the mess splattered from Jean’s stomach all the way up his chest, some still dripping slowly from his softening cock. Jean stares for a moment, then flops back into the pillows with a laugh and blearily rubs his eyes.

Eren leans over to the nightstand and grabs a handful tissues, and as he mops Jean up, he kisses him lovingly. Even once he’s done, he tosses the tissues aside and immediately gathers Jean into an enthusiastic cuddle, running his warm hands down Jean’s back and murmuring patient praises to him, his own still-hard cock forgotten in interest of taking care of his boyfriend.

Jean definitely hasn’t forgotten, though, especially not about the way Eren had rubbed against his hand, the way his voice had sounded against his skin. He curls around Eren, kissing him warm and slow, letting the brunette pet his shoulders, down his spine, gently squeezing his ass, until he’s got his brain enough in order that he can slip his hand between them again. Fingers pressing firmly along the thick curve of Eren’s cock, Jean grins and bites his boyfriend’s flushed lips as they part around a choked gasp. Taking advantage of Eren’s momentary distraction, Jean pushes him onto his back and straddles him easily.

“Y-you sure bounce back quick,” Eren manages, trying feebly to pull Jean back down against his chest. Shaking his head, Jean stays where he is, dragging his gaze down Eren’s fuzzy chest to where his thick happy trail disappears into his severely-tented jeans. He licks his lips, then grins crookedly and squeezes, leaving Eren whimpering under him.

“So, you’re gonna fuck me out, huh?” Jean slides his palm up and down Eren’s cock through his pants, eating up the way he bucks into the attention before he nods blearily. “What about you, then? Can you handle stuffing this thing inside me? No way you can get me off more than once without losing it.”

“Is that a challenge, ya jerk?” Eren grins up at Jean, hands squeezing his hips playfully.

“I’m just statin’ facts.” Jean scoots back slightly, wasting no more time in popping open Eren’s jeans and tugging his heavy, aching cock out of his underwear, the head already wet and flushed dark. He flashes Eren a crooked grin, sliding the tips of his fingers through the slick mess, and says, “I wonder how many times I can make you come today.”

Leaning down for a brief kiss, Jean flicks his tongue between Eren’s lips, then shifts and bites quickly down his dark stomach and wraps his lips right around the head of Eren’s cock, drawing a ragged moan out of him. Jean pushes Eren’s knees apart and makes himself comfortable between them as he works his tongue through his slit, rubbing his piercing against sensitive skin before he starts bobbing his head steadily, slowly taking more into his mouth. It’s been a while since he’s sucked cock at all, let alone the damn summer sausage Eren calls a dick, so he takes his sweet time getting used to that thick weight in his mouth again, sucking and licking and stroking Eren’s cock as his eyes slide closed contently.

With a low moan, Eren slides his fingers into Jean’s hair, scratching his nails gently along the blonde’s scalp. Jean hums at the feeling, both of Eren petting him again and of the way he fills up his mouth, and Eren melts helplessly under his attention.

The soft, wet sounds of Jean’s mouth and hand moving mingle with Eren’s breathy moans and praises, his own fingers moving continuously through messy blonde locks, dragging gently over Jean’s hollowed cheeks, smoothing his bangs away from his face, before he remembers himself with a huffed chuckle. “I’m s-supposed to be taking care of you, y’know,” he says quietly, smiling crookedly when Jean’s eyes flutter open and meet his. Jean quirks an amused eyebrow, his clever tongue working to make up for his slowed pace.

Rather than pull off to respond, he hums again, then takes a deep breath and dips down further, taking more of Eren into his mouth, leaving the brunette shivering and gasping appreciatively. Jean can’t quite take the whole thing yet, not without almost gagging, so he pulls off incredibly slow, gently dragging his teeth up the sensitive underside as he goes. Eren’s eyes about cross at the feeling, his back arching and his hands tightening in Jean’s hair. He lets his boyfriend pull off with a slick pop, though, and Jean strokes Eren firmly as he licks his lips and smirks.

“You really complainin’?”

“Oh, fuck no,” Eren blurts, leaning up on his elbows. “You know how I feel about your big mouth.” Jean rolls his eyes and flips him a good-natured middle finger, dipping again to flick his tongue quickly through Eren’s soaked slit. “D-damn, Jean... I’m just sayin’, when was the last time you got your dick sucked?”

Jean blinks up at the brunette again, pressing a few hot, wet kisses to the head of his cock as he ponders the question. He doesn’t spare it much thought, though. Instead, he shrugs it off and says, “Too damn long, probably.”

Grinning widely, Eren sits up and hooks his arms under Jean’s, pulling his sputtering boyfriend up and into his lap so he can kiss him nice and messy. Jean shifts so he’s straddling him again, giving in easily as he wraps his arms around Eren’s shoulders and leans into him. They linger for a long moment, Eren’s spit-slick cock pressed hot into the hollow of Jean’s hip, before he runs his hands slowly up and down the blonde’s sides and nuzzles him gently. “Let me make you feel good, Jean,” he whispers against his lips, brushing a few more warm kisses there before continuing. “Think you can relax for me? Let me treat you right?”

With a soft laugh, Jean leans their foreheads together and runs his thumb along Eren’s strong jaw, his fingers curling gently against his neck. “’S this my reward for not losing my mind and dunking my head in a chemical waste container?”

“Hell yeah.” Eren wraps his arms around Jean and falls back onto the bed, quickly rolling them back over with a deft twist of his hips. He grins down at Jean, who’s already getting used to his boyfriend’s energetic manhandling again, and says, “You’ve been working hard, I missed the shit out of you, you still need like a month’s worth of orgasms... call it a spa day.”

“Dunno what kind of spas you go to,” Jean snorts, resting his knees comfortably over Eren’s hips. He reaches between them again and gives Eren’s cock another firm stroke, eagerly watching his boyfriend’s eyelids flutter at the feeling. “What about you? You could seriously break rocks with this thing, you really don’t want me to suck you off first?”

“I mean, I always want you to blow me,” Eren laughs, but he still shakes his head, reaching to grab Jean’s wrist so he can pull his hand up to his lips and press a grateful kiss into his warm palm. “Wanna suck your cock, maybe finger you some,” he murmurs, grinning as he nibbles on the tip of Jean’s thumb teasingly. Jean swallows, biting his lip idly, his face already flushing pretty. “Your toy’s good, but it’s not prep enough, I don’t think.”

“’C-course not, your dick’s basically Mjölnir,” Jean agrees, pressing his thumb against Eren’s tongue. Eren chuckles and wraps his lips around the digit, pointedly holding eye contact as he laves his tongue gently over it. “Sh-shit. Um.”

Letting Jean’s thumb slip out of his mouth, Eren laughs and laces their fingers loosely, leaning in for another lazy kiss. “See, you’re still all pent up. Don’t worry about me. I can wait ‘til I’m inside you.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Jean sighs, squeezing their twined fingers.

“I promise to never ever give myself crippling blue balls again,” Eren grumbles, ducking to nip teasingly at Jean’s lips. “Out of curiosity, what’s your record in one sitting?”

Jean raises his eyebrows. “What, for orgasms?” Eren nods, taking the opportunity to wiggle out of the rest of his clothes while Jean squints and ponders. “Maybe... three?”

With a truly worrisome grin, Eren leans over to fish the lube out of the nightstand, giving his cock a few idle tugs just to tide himself over. He spreads Jean’s thighs apart and kneels between them, slicking his fingers with an interested hum. “I’m gonna break that.”

“Bold words,” Jean sighs, shivering despite himself. Eren wraps a hand around the blonde’s half-hard cock, rubbing his thumb between the studs of his piercing to try and coax him back to life, and Jean relaxes into the pillows with a soft moan.

Eren settles onto his stomach and nudges Jean’s thighs over his shoulders, sliding one slick finger into him with ease, his body still nice and relaxed from the vibrator. Jean arches slightly at the feeling, swallowing quietly, then stuffs another pillow under his head so he can comfortably watch his boyfriend work. Eren smiles warmly as he sets to stroking him evenly, nice and tight, gently squeezing the head, exactly how Jean likes it. He waits until Jean’s hard again, until he’s panting softly at the way Eren toys with his piercing to start gently thrusting his finger into him. It wouldn’t do to overstimulate Jean this early.

When he crooks his finger tentatively, just barely stroking along his sensitive prostate, Jean shivers and moans Eren’s name, spreading his thighs a little wider. Satisfied, Eren licks his lips and gently eases a second finger into his boyfriend’s tight heat, cautiously spreading them and working Jean open in time with his hand. Jean curses under his breath, biting his flushed lip and rocking his hips slightly, his hands fisting in the sheets again.

“Feel good?” Eren asks quietly, shuffling closer so he can press a warm, open-mouthed kiss to the head of Jean’s cock, still watching attentively as he does. Jean nods, letting his eyes slide closed when Eren leans in and drags the flat of his tongue over the head. “Think I can get you to come in my mouth before I fuck you?”

“Mm, d-dunno,” Jean murmurs, shivering and jumping at a particularly good thrust of Eren’s fingers. “C-can you wait that long?”

Eren slides the head of Jean’s cock between his lips before he gives a thoughtful hum, successfully wringing a choked moan out of the blonde. He sucks gently, swirling his tongue easily around his mouthful before he pulls off again to respond. “’F you come from this and then I roll you over and put my dick in you, d’you think you’ll die?”

Laughing breathlessly, Jean opens his eyes and grins down at his boyfriend, shifting one hand into his dark, messy hair so he can scratch idly behind Eren’s ear. “Maybe, yeah. Might be too much without a break between.”

“So much for the Energizer bunny,” Eren teases, nuzzling Jean’s cock almost lovingly while he thinks. “Mm, but if I don’t fuck you soon, I might die...”

“C-could flip a coin,” Jean murmurs.

Eren snorts, then breathes a low sigh as he mouths hotly up Jean’s hard cock, his kisses messy and wet-sounding, until he’s laving his tongue over the head again with a soft moan. He licks his lips and watches his boyfriend’s breath pick up, coming a little harder, a little faster now, and as he gently opens Jean up for a third finger, Eren grins and says, “We’ll just play it by ear.”

“F-fuck,” the blonde gasps, rocking his hips onto Eren’s long fingers, doing his best to relax quickly. “Y-yeah, yeah, okay.”

With a low chuckle, Eren wraps his lips around the head of Jean’s cock and sets to sucking him off, his fingers thrusting and curling steadily into him, watching intently as his boyfriend writhes under his attention. Jean’s back arches off the sheets, his stomach tightening and tensing, one hand fisted shakily in Eren’s hair while the other grips the headboard behind him for support, his hips rolling brainlessly into Eren’s even rhythm. So damn pretty. He’s noisy, too, gasping soft praises and breathless moans whenever Eren rubs the tips of his fingers over his sweet spot, his hips starting to jerk at the feeling.

Whenever he can manage it, Jean watches blearily, gasping Eren’s name as the brunette sucks him deep and swallows around him, spreading his fingers and coaxing Jean into relaxing for him. Opening Jean up enough for Eren takes time, just because the blonde’s so damn tight. It’s worth it, though, for the way he feels and for the way he sounds when he’s taking him.

It’s been too long since Eren had Jean under him, since he got to make him feel good, since he last heard Jean moaning his name... Eren hollows his cheeks around him and nuzzles into the dark curls at the base of his cock, watching Jean’s eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sweet whimper. He wants to do everything to him. Mostly, though, Eren wants to feel Jean against him, pressed all around him and running his hands all over him, touching and kissing and marking every part of both of them.

Eren finds himself bizarrely overcome with emotion for his weedy little boyfriend, pulling off his cock with a slick, noisy kiss so he can shift and lean over him. Jean welcomes him easily, wrapping his arms around his neck so he can pull him into a deep kiss, arching against him and rocking onto his still-thrusting fingers. Eren moans as he fucks his tongue into his mouth, swallowing his raspy little moans, unable to keep himself from grinding against Jean’s tense, sweat-slick hip with a rumbling groan of his own.

“C-c’mon,” Jean breathes, flicking his tongue against Eren’s lips and squeezing around his fingers, tempting and beautiful, his own hands running soothingly through his boyfriend’s hair. “I w-want you, Eren, please? ‘M okay, c’mon.”

Ducking into Jean’s shoulder, Eren mouths wetly up the blonde’s flushed neck for a moment, trying to get himself together. He nods, though, and nibbles gently up Jean’s ear before he pulls gently away to grab a condom out of the nightstand. While he’s tearing it open, he grins and watches Jean roll over onto his stomach, thighs spread wide, resting comfortably on his elbows as he arches his ass out toward Eren.

“Mm, that how you want it?” Eren rolls the condom on, slicking it generously, and leans over Jean to press soft kisses to his cheek.

“I like you like this,” Jean hums, arching back until he can catch his boyfriend’s lips. Between kisses, he murmurs, “Like feeling you over me. Besides, ‘m still feeling lazy.”

Eren laughs softly, settling over Jean and reaching to twine their fingers tightly together. “Whatever you want, baby, today’s for you. ‘M gonna flip you back over later, though. You know I like seeing your pretty face when you’re fallin’ apart for me.”

Grinning over his shoulder, Jean squeezes their laced fingers and slowly rubs his ass back against Eren’s hard cock, and when the brunette shivers and moans against Jean’s shoulder, he laughs, “We’ll see who’s fallin’ apart.”

Rather than respond, Eren growls playfully and retrieves one of his hands to guide his arousal against Jean’s worked-open entrance, slipping the head teasingly through slick lube until Jean’s wiggling impatiently, his head tilted back, spine curved tight.

When Eren finally obliges him and sinks the head of his cock into him, his own eyes shutter closed at the insane tightness wrapping around him. He leans over Jean and rests his forehead against his shoulder, his free hand sliding achingly slow up Jean’s tense stomach, over his bony ribs, fingers playing across his sensitive collarbones, before Eren slips his fingers up onto Jean’s shoulder and effectively pins the blonde tight to his chest, holding him close and mouthing up his neck while he works his cock into him in gentle, careful thrusts. Jean whines under him, spreading his thighs wider, but the way Eren’s holding him, clinging to him and squeezing his hand, murmuring soft praises under his sensitive ear... every tender brush of Eren’s skin and his hot breath leaves Jean pliant and gasping under him, so damn loved that he can’t help but give himself over to his boyfriend.

Jean sighs slowly when Eren finally bottoms out in him, still grinding just enough to help him adjust. He leans in and nips at Jean’s ear again, his thumb stroking idly across the hollow of Jean’s throat, before he rasps, “H-how d’you want it, babe? ‘Cause I kinda wanna go slow right now. You feel so damn good, baby, I wanna take it nice and gentle, make you feel so good... ‘s it okay, Jean? C-can I make love to you?”

“’S f-fine,” Jean chokes out, leaning his head back against Eren’s shoulder. “’S how I want it, Eren, p-please?”

Eren moans softly, sliding his hand up to gently tilt Jean’s face around until he can kiss him, deep and slow, his palm warm against the blonde’s sensitive throat. Just as he pulls away, Jean reaches back and threads his fingers through dark, messy hair, pulling him back for one more long, easy kiss, breathing sweet nothings between the parting of their lips. Eren nuzzles their noses together before he eases Jean back onto his elbows, gratefully brushing his lips against the nape of Jean’s neck before he adjusts his knees and sets to rocking a little deeper, a little harder into Jean.

It doesn’t take much to have Eren gasping against Jean’s shoulder. Even with all the prep and the lube, Jean’s always tight, so tight Eren can’t help but melt against his back and moan raggedly against him, his hips moving slow and rhythmic. The way Jean looks always leaves him breathless, squeezing him deep and somehow managing to rock back against him, his flushed, bitten lips parted around sweet, broken little moans, eyes fluttering shut whenever Eren grinds into him. Eren wraps his arm back around Jean’s chest and holds him securely as he thrusts into him, eagerly watching Jean’s face as he moves.

Jean’s hands fist in the sheets, his eyes squeeze closed, and even moving this slowly, this easily brings a dark flush to his face. He’s spread open so wide, holding Eren tight and warm inside of him, and the way Eren slides inside of him so evenly, filling him up and pressing against his sweet spot amazingly has Jean moaning freely for him. He gasps Eren’s name, pressing back against him for more, shivering when Eren kisses along his shoulder, up his neck, breathing low moans against his pulse.

“Y-you’re so good, J-Jean,” Eren manages shakily, stretching up to catch Jean’s needy kisses again. “S-so good for me, baby... d’you like how I feel inside you? ‘S this what you wanted?”

“F-feels good,” Jean breathes, nibbling at Eren’s lower lip. “F-fuck, Eren, you feel amazing—m-more, please?”

Eren nods, dropping soft kisses over Jean’s shoulder as he leans up on his hands. He pulls back a little farther, thrusts in more firmly, keeping his slow pace as he watches Jean shiver and gasp in the bright afternoon sunlight, letting his head drop to rest his forehead on his knuckles as he wriggles under Eren. He can see how well Jean takes him from this angle, the thick base of his cock spreading Jean open with every loving thrust, so Eren shifts closer and rocks deeper into him, thrusting down into him so perfectly that Jean can’t help but shake.

“Th-th-there, Eren,” Jean stammers, his breath coming in quick pants the more Eren hits that perfect angle, the perfect combination of filling him up and grinding against his sweet spot. “R-right there, don’t s-stop, please...”

“’M not stoppin’, baby, I’ve got you,” Eren murmurs, keeping himself to this pace, this angle, and letting himself watch as Jean comes apart under him. Jean’s lip fall open again as he tilts his head back, eyes dark and unfocused, pants colored with perfect little whimpers, hands fisting tighter in the sheets.

Jean’s about losing it. He’d missed this feeling so goddamn much, the incredible feeling of Eren inside of him. He’s still being so gentle and patient with him, even with his own ragged moans coming faster, his own face flushed and damn near worshipful, his intense eyes never leaving Jean. He’s so focused on him, focused on his pleasure, praising the way Jean shivers for him, tightens around him, taking him perfectly. It’s all perfect.

“F-fuck, Eren,” Jean sighs, his voice cracking around a soft whine as Eren grinds deep into him. “Fuck, baby, please, I l-love you—”

The way his words affect Eren almost jolts Jean out of his pleasured haze. Eren chokes on a loud whimper, twitching hard and burying himself deep as he drops his forehead against Jean’s shoulder, his shaking hands gripping the sheets in a white-knuckled grip as he tries to hold himself together.

“Eren?” It takes a second of Eren gasping against his shoulder, unable to move or speak, before Jean starts getting it. He peers over his shoulder, a huge, evil grin spreading over his face. “Eren, did you just come?”

“N-no.”

“Did you just almost come?”

Eren huffs softly in response, mouthing hot and wet against Jean’s shoulder blade. Jean licks his lips, at least having the mercy to not squeeze around Eren. That’s about all the mercy he has, though. He rocks back against him, swiveling his hips hypnotically with the little room he has to do so, and breathes, “I love you, Eren.”

Eren groans and drops his full weight on Jean, mostly to stop him from moving, and nips sharply at whatever sweat-slick flesh he can find.

“Baby,” Jean says, reaching back to comb his fingers through Eren’s hair. “D’you get off on me telling you I love you?”

“O-only during sex, you ass,” Eren grumbles, hiding his embarrassment in the nape of Jean’s neck. “Don’t gotta laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing,” Jean replies quietly, scratching soothingly behind Eren’s ear. “Let me roll over, quit hidin’.”

Eren stalls for a second, swallowing heavily, before he moves his hands to Jean’s hips and eases his cock out of him with a soft groan. He sits up and lets Jean squirm out of his grasp, fully expecting him to just roll onto his back, but once he’s free to move, Jean flips over and straight up tackles Eren, straddling him quickly and pinning him on his back. Eren stares up at him, too stunned to do anything for a moment.

Sitting up straight, Jean licks his lips and grins down at Eren, stroking his own aching arousal with a slow, loose grip. “You said today’s about me, right? Well, I decided I wanna ride you.”

“Uh,” is about all Eren can manage before Jean lifts himself up on his knees, reaching down to steady Eren so he can sink down onto him, taking him as slowly as he damn well pleases as his head falls back. Jean breathes a low moan and rolls his hips, working him deeper, until he’s finally seated in Eren’s lap and shivering at the feeling. This deep, Eren’s almost too much for him, but Jean quickly finds himself incapable of caring. The look on Eren’s face is too damn good to pass up.

Flushed dark, Eren’s just staring up at him, lips parted, eyes glazed helplessly. His shaky hands come to rest on Jean’s hips, thumbs rubbing soothingly over his sharp hip bones, and it’s obvious that he’s struggling to keep himself still. He’s strong enough that he could easily wrangle Jean to his chest, to hold him and fuck up into him and leave Jean brainless and wrecked, but he doesn’t. He just lets Jean take the reins, tight and hot around him, eager to see what Jean’s gonna do to him from here.

“G-goddamn, Eren,” Jean murmurs, squeezing gently around Eren as he settles more comfortably, narrow thighs spread beautifully wide over his dark hips. “G-gotta ride you more often.”

“Y-you said it makes it impossible to walk the next day.”

Jean grins, so bright and pretty it makes Eren’s heart skip a beat, his grip tightening slightly on Jean’s hips. “It does, yeah,” Jean breathes, shifting his hands to Eren’s stomach, “But right now it feels amazing.”

“Y-you’ll be th-thinkin’ of me tomorrow,” Eren mumbles, gritting his teeth as Jean squeezes him again, mostly just to fuck with him.

“Mhm, all day tomorrow,” Jean purrs, circling his hips achingly slow, just enough movement to have Eren panting under him, still struggling to stay still. “Every time I m-move, I’m gonna remember how you look right now.” He pauses for a moment before that evil grin returns, and he sits up and leans way over to where Eren’s phone is sitting next to his computer. “You know, Eren,” he murmurs, casually opening the camera app. “Got plenty of regular pictures of you, and some nice pictures Marco took of you jacking off, but I don’t think we have any of us together.” He leans back enough to take a quick picture of his thighs spread over Eren’s lap, the rainy daylight still bright enough to show off the gorgeous contrast of their skin, along with the beautiful, helpless expression on Eren’s flushed face. “When’s Marco coming home, baby?”

Eren licks his lips, watching Jean fiddle with his phone, probably sending the picture to Marco to tease him. “D-dunno, soon?”

His crooked grin softening into a playful smirk, Jean tosses Eren’s phone aside again and licks his lips, dragging his palms down Eren’s torso, scratching through the dark hair on his chest and his stomach as he starts rocking his hips again. Eren’s eyes roll closed for a brief moment, his grip on Jean’s hips twitching, before he peels his eyes open to watch Jean brace himself on his stomach again.

“I want him to take pictures of us,” Jean whispers, grinding down into Eren’s lap. “I especially want him to take a picture of the face you’ll make when I’m showing him what I just learned.”

“Oh god,” Eren groans, scrubbing one hand down his flushing face so he doesn’t have to look up at his demon boyfriend. “I’m never living this down, am I.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Jean murmurs, reaching over to pull Eren’s hand away from his face. He leans down and kisses him briefly, sighing as he tangles their tongues and sucks at his flushed lips, then sits back up and bites his own lip as he starts moving back and forth on Eren’s cock.

Eren shivers and shifts his hands to Jean’s thighs, powerless under the way they flex and tense along with Jean’s slow, tempting rhythm. He slides in their sweat and squeezes tight around Eren’s cock as he takes him deep with every skillful thrust, his lips parting on low, sweet moans, watching Eren’s breath pick up, the faces he makes, the way his hands move restlessly over him. Eren’s eyes flutter closed as Jean keeps this easy, firm pace, mirroring the tempo from before they’d rolled over, unable to keep from touching his gorgeous boyfriend. His fingers flutter across his sensitive thighs, pressing up his bony hips and dancing over his flexing stomach, his narrow sides, before he drags his palms down to Jean’s ass and squeezes, the touch both encouraging and praising.

He tries to sit up at one point, trying to hold Jean closer, maybe coax him into rolling back over, but Jean chooses that moment to slide his hands to Eren’s chest and lift his hips, and as he starts riding Eren’s cock slow and perfect, the brunette finds himself once more helpless under Jean’s spell. Jean lifts almost all the way off, then rolls his hips back down and takes him deep again, moaning raggedly at the feeling, at the angle, and he keeps this rhythm, even as his shoulders and his thighs begin to shake with the urge to sprawl boneless across Eren’s strong chest.

All Eren can do is rock up into him, mindlessly keeping his boyfriend’s even pace as he holds on tight. It’s almost too much to watch, the way Jean’s hips move so perfectly onto his cock, so Eren watches his face, flushed bright and wanton from how Eren’s hitting him. Jean’s panting softly, licking his bitten lips and shivering over him, but he’s still got enough brainpower left to smirk down at Eren and guarantee his poor boyfriend’s doom.

Jean leans his head back with a breathy laugh, arching his back when Eren smooths his palms up his stomach, over his chest, rubbing gently at his pert nipples. As he grinds down into Eren’s lap, Jean moans his name, squeezing tight around him, before he whispers, “Fuck, Eren, I love you...”

Eren’s eyes squeeze shut, his hips bucking involuntarily, and he can’t help but rake his nails down Jean’s pale chest as he gasps under him, breathing hard and trying to keep it together.

“F-fucking evil,” he chokes out, squinting up at his gorgeously-flushing boyfriend, who has yet to stop riding Eren like he was fucking born to do it. Even Eren’s squirming can’t throw him off.

“You h-have no idea how good you look,” Jean replies breathlessly, shifting his weight so he can ride Eren a little faster, take his cock a little harder, letting his head drop with a gasping moan as he does. He knows he can’t ride Eren too hard, can’t quite bounce in his lap without losing control entirely, but he’s more than happy to ride that edge as best he can. “F-fuck, think I can make you come like that?”

“J-Jean,” Eren whines, desperately gripping Jean’s sides as he tries to keep rocking up into his boyfriend’s mind-blowing rhythm. “C’mon, l-let me make you come first, ‘s not fair.”

“H-how’s it not fair?” Jean laughs and throws a tempting little grind into his pace, squeezing rhythmically and eagerly watching the way it makes Eren squirm, his heels digging into the sheets, almost unable to handle Jean’s tight heat working him over like this. “I already came once, ‘s your t-turn.”

Eren grumbles, arching up hard into Jean and knocking him brainless for a brief moment, and he uses the opportunity to yank Jean down onto his chest and roll them over, almost off the edge of the bed. He kisses him desperately, wrangling Jean’s shaking thighs around his waist and leaning over him on his elbows so he can press their bodies close together, as close as he can possibly get. Jean arches and moans under him, shivering at the way Eren’s cock grinds deep into him, and when Eren fucks his tongue into Jean’s mouth and starts thrusting into him again, filling him up in long, even strokes, Jean whimpers and wraps his thighs tighter around him.

They move together, moaning into the kiss and clinging tight to each other. Eren’s hips move steadily, his shaking hands coming to rest on Jean’s cheeks as he does, and the feeling of Jean’s ankles crossing over his hips and the blonde’s nails dragging hard down Eren’s sweat-slick back has him gasping. Jean whimpers against him, thighs spread wide and eager, and once he’s wiggled under him and bent his knees back more, Eren’s cock hits him just right again, leaving him breathless.

“’S p-perfect there,” Jean manages, unable to keep himself from clawing at Eren’s tensing back, his own spine arching tight as he takes Eren’s thick cock to the hilt with every firm thrust. “P-please, fuck, E-Eren!”

“J-Jean,” Eren murmurs desperately, sucking at Jean’s lips and kissing his cheek and rocking deeper into him. “Jean, s-say it again? T-tell me that again, baby, ‘f it makes me come I’ll take you with me, j-just—”

“Eren, I l-l-love you, I love you,” Jean gasps, throwing his head back with a sharp cry when Eren bucks hard into him, turning to sink his teeth into Jean’s arched neck with a ragged moan. Jean clings tighter to him, raking his nails harder across Eren’s shoulders, already dangerously close to coming again. Eren’s so hot above him, almost burning him alive everywhere they slide together, his cock so hard, so perfect inside of him, sucking and biting dark hickeys above his collarbone as he whimpers for him, shaking with the intensity of their slow, grinding rhythm, and Jean lets himself cry out for more, trembling hard under him.

Through the ringing in their ears, neither of them had noticed the door to the apartment opening, at least not until the bed dips next to them. They both glance blearily over and find Marco knelt beside them, panting from rushing home, dark bangs still dripping cool rainwater down his face.

“H-hi,” he stutters, slowly stripping his shirt off. “Finish up, d-don’t mind me.”

“Oh, I’m minding you,” Eren rumbles, sitting up and pulling the brunette into a deep, needy kiss, his hands warm on Marco’s still-chilled face. Jean leans up on one elbow and reaches over to rub his palm firmly against their boyfriend’s already-hard cock through his pants, wringing a gasping moan out of him. One of Marco’s hands drops to Jean’s sex-mussed hair, lovingly combing his fingers through it as he lets Eren fuck his tongue into his mouth.

“You gettin’ in on this, love?” Jean asks, happily watching his boyfriends kiss for a moment longer before Eren lets Marco up for air.

“I’d l-like to, ‘f it’s okay,” Marco replies, bending down and eagerly kissing Jean too, even as the blonde wriggles closer and starts unfastening his jeans for him.

“Why the hell wouldn’t it be?” Jean murmurs between kisses, nipping gently at Marco’s lips. He manages to get Marco’s pants undone and slides his hand into his boxers, wiggling his fingers pointedly until the brunette sits up again and slides his pants and underwear down over his hips. When his cock bounces out against his stomach, he can practically feel the hunger in Jean’s gaze, breathing a shaky moan in response.

Eren grins widely and grips Jean’s hips, scooting them both back up onto the bed to make room for Marco up by Jean’s head. It’s pretty obvious what the blonde wants, with the way he’s licking and biting his lips.

Once he’s settled on his back again, thighs still firmly wrapped around Eren’s waist, Jean reaches back and tugs at Marco’s hips. “C’mere,” he breathes, grinning widely when Marco comes to kneel just behind his head. “Let me show you how much I missed you too.”

Marco groans softly, squeezing his eyes shut, and somehow resists the urge to lean down and just wrap Jean in a ridiculous upside-down hug. He wrestles his pants down around his knees to give Jean room to work, spreading his thighs, and as Jean moans wantonly, he reaches back to shift Marco’s hips closer so he can tilt his head back and wrap his lips around the slick, hooded head of Marco’s aching arousal.

“Fuck, J-Jean,” Marco moans, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as Jean works his pierced tongue across his sensitive foreskin. He rests his hands gently on Jean’s shoulders and leans forward, nudging Eren into another messy kiss as Jean slowly sucks him deeper. “Y-you guys were makin’ me crazy all day,” he murmurs against Eren’s lips, nipping playfully as his boyfriend’s face cracks into a blatantly unapologetic grin.

“S-sorry we didn’t take more pictures for you,” Eren replies, running his hands soothingly up and down Jean’s thighs. Before Marco can reply, Jean digs his knees pointedly into Eren’s sides, wriggling deeper into his lap with a muffled moan. They glance down at him, at the way his body tenses as he rocks his hips onto Eren again, his flushed, pierced cock lying heavy and sloppy with precome against his stomach. He’s doing his best to work his way down Marco’s cock, tilting his head back further, leaving both of his boyfriends helpless for him again.

Marco swallows heavily and shifts his fingers so he can play with Jean’s sensitive nipples, trying with all his might to keep from fucking Jean’s throat just yet. This angle’s perfect for that, though, because if he slides deep enough, he knows he’ll be able to see his boyfriend’s throat working around him, and the thought kind of knocks him sideways for a moment. Jean’s squirming under them, his chest arching into Marco’s hands, so Eren gets it together enough to pin Jean’s hips to the bed and start thrusting again.

Jean’s muffled moans echo out around Marco’s cock, the sensation sending chills running over his skin. Eren keeps the deep, grinding pace from earlier, unable to stop himself from staring at the way Jean’s body moves between them, arching and twitching and squeezing. Jean fucking loves being in the middle, and it shows in the needy way he rocks his hips and messily, noisily sucks down Marco’s cock, his weak hands resting on Marco’s hips until he manages to lift one to Eren’s chest, scratching encouragingly through the dark fuzz there.

It’s not hard to tell what Jean wants, especially as his legs start shaking and he starts wiggling even more between them. He presses insistently against the small of Eren’s back with his heels, thighs spread wide and inviting, as he pulls weakly at Marco’s hips and swallows his cock deep. They follow his guidance, Eren fucking him harder, rocking faster into him, and Marco bites his lip and tentatively starts thrusting into Jean’s tight, wet mouth, moaning at the loud, encouraging sounds vibrating up around him from Jean’s throat.

“’S this what you wanted, baby?” Eren breathes, speeding his pace as Jean squeezes around him again, pulling him deeper. Marco moans softly, running his hands restlessly over Jean’s chest, his stomach, trying to keep his hips under control for now. Eren’s hips rock Jean’s tight body with every deep thrust, the sight wringing a slow, stuttering groan out of him.

Jean’s back arches high off the bed between them, his hips moving rougher the more he bucks onto Eren’s hard cock, and as Marco starts losing his cool and thrusting faster into Jean’s mouth, starting to slip deeper, Jean’s choked, muffled sounds grow louder, shorter, more insistent. He’s getting close, if his moans and his tensing muscles and his dripping precome are any indication, his cock twitching hard between them as if begging for any sort of attention. He shakily slams his hips back into Eren’s steady thrusts, tightening around him more the closer he gets, his nails digging into Marco’s hip and Eren’s strong forearm as a bare warning.

As Jean’s movements become urgent, his moans breathy and whiny as much as Marco’s cock stuffed in his mouth will allow, Marco decides to have mercy on him. He leans over and pulls Eren into a sloppy, breathy kiss and murmurs, “Fuck him harder,” before he reaches down and wraps his hand around Jean’s aching cock. Eren moans and obliges, moving faster, his grip on Jean’s hips still pinning him to the bed, and once Marco moves his hand, his fist pulling tight and quick, fucking Jean’s mouth in time with Eren’s hips, Jean’s grip on them both becomes frantic, nails scratching and thighs clenching and body arching tight. He fucks up into Marco’s grip and drops hard onto Eren’s shaking thrusts, crying out around his mouthful, obviously trying to hold on to the feeling as long as he can.

Marco eases Eren into sitting back slightly, enough that they can watch his cock moving hard into Jean, the sight driving them both brainless. He watches Eren fuck Jean for a moment, his own hips starting to lose their rhythm, before he remembers himself and leans over the blonde. As he slides all the way into Jean’s throat, he gasps at the tight feeling around his dick, shamelessly enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend struggling to take him without gagging. Easing back again before Jean chokes on him, Marco grips the base of Jean’s cock, then pulls out of his mouth altogether so he can lean down and swallow all of him in one quick movement.

Eren shudders and digs his nails into Jean’s hips as he watches Marco bob his head over Jean, sucking him wetly and messily in time to Eren’s deep thrusts, but it’s the way Jean screams for them that has Eren squeezing his eyes shut and whimpering.

Jean’s not even capable of words anymore, his voice rough from swallowing Marco’s cock and cracking as he thrusts hard into his boyfriend’s sweet mouth. He rakes his nails over Marco’s ribs and cries out for them, babbling noisy praises and pleas and stuttering shouts of their names all jumbled together as he tenses and arches and finally comes for them, his thighs twitching and his body tightening almost too much for Eren to handle. Marco swallows his come with a low moan, running his hands soothingly up and down Jean’s thighs, and as Jean pants and nearly sobs through his orgasm, Eren buries himself deep with a low groan and grinds his hips, trying not to overstimulate Jean too badly.

As Marco pulls off Jean’s cock, the blonde arches up after him with a broken whimper, pawing brainlessly at Marco’s ass as the brunette leans up to Eren and kisses him again, both of them moaning at the bare taste of Jean’s come shared between them.

Even as he shivers beneath them, biting his lips and watching his boyfriends make out, Jean finds the willpower to wrap his hand around Marco’s cock and stroke him quickly, twisting his wrist and shifting his other hand to gently squeeze the sensitive head, palm rubbing over his soaked slit as his fingers tease his foreskin. Marco moans loudly at the feeling, shivering beautifully and rocking into Jean’s hands as Eren pulls him deeper into their kiss. He’s no less affected, though, as Jean braces his feet behind him and rocks his hips perfectly, practically riding Eren’s cock with every short thrust, still tight and shaky around his girth as he circles and grinds his hips. Eren shivers and gasps, leaning his head back, until he can’t take anymore and starts bucking his hips into Jean again, the blonde’s tight heat driving him fucking crazy.

He comes before Marco does, still built up and half out of his mind from being so damn turned on all afternoon, burying himself deep inside Jean as he leans forward and grinds hard, breathing desperate moans around the patch of Marco’s skin he takes between his teeth. Marco whimpers and tilts his head to give Eren room, the brunette’s breath panting out fast and humid against his throat between soft, brainless noises. Jean moans contently somewhere below them, moving to mouth hot and wet up the sensitive underside of Marco’s shaft, but when he finally reaches the head and slides his tongue under Marco’s foreskin, teasing his slit before he sucks him deep again, Marco can’t help but moan for him. He twitches when Jean hollows his cheeks around him and hums encouragingly, stroking what he can’t quite fit in his mouth.

Marco’s right there, right on the edge of coming when Jean tilts his head back, takes him deeper, and swallows, and just as Marco’s eyes near cross from that, Eren pulls off his fresh hickey with a wet pop and shifts to drag his tongue up Marco’s sensitive neck, his hand fisting in soft black hair as he growls in his ear, “C’mon, Marco, come,” and that’s all he can take.

His eyes roll closed as he arches and whimpers, his hips rocking into Jean’s mouth as he comes. His skin breaks out in chills as Jean swallows around him again, flicking his tongue through his oversensitive slit as he strokes him firmly, squeezing more come out of him. Eren breathes warm praises into Marco’s ear, the hand in his hair now petting soothingly, until Marco drops his forehead against Eren’s shoulder with a fucked-out little whine.

Once he’s satisfied that Marco’s tapped out, Jean lets him go with a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the head of his cock, chuckling breathlessly at the way his boyfriend twitches at the feeling.

“Goddamn,” Eren breathes, sitting back on his heels and running his hands reverently up Jean’s sweaty chest. As the blonde throws him a crooked grin, Marco scoots back and hauls Jean upright, planting him firmly in Eren’s lap and melting against his back. He reaches up and turns Jean’s face to the side so he can kiss him over his shoulder, lazily tangling their tongues and wrapping his arms around his spoiled-ass boyfriend. While they kiss, Eren happily winds one arm around Jean’s narrow hips and pulls him closer, leaning into his exposed throat and dropping soft, open-mouthed kisses against his pulse.

Jean’s over the damn moon about being sandwiched. He relaxes back into Marco’s chest and kisses him easily, reaching up to wind shaking fingers into his now-dry hair, while he drapes his other arm around Eren’s shoulders and hums contently. Even when Eren’s hands drop to curl around his ass again, squeezing and palming, Jean wiggles happily in his lap. He pulls back from Marco’s lips and leans his head back against his shoulder, his boyfriends’ hands on him relaxing and soothing him.

As he nuzzles into Jean’s ear, Marco winds one arm over his pale chest, his free hand dragging slowly down his stomach, and he murmurs, “How many times did you come?”

Before Jean can pull together the brains to answer, Eren leans out of his neck and grumbles, “Only twice. ‘M still shy two.”

Marco grins widely, resting his chin on Jean’s shoulder. “Aiming for four?”

Jean huffs between them as Eren nods, oblivious to the silent eye contact conversation his boyfriends are having. They’ve already made their decision by the time Jean mumbles, “You were serious about that? F-fuck, dude.”

Eren sits back and looks Jean over, dragging his burning gaze down his sweaty, fucked-out body with a warm hum. He grins back up at him and grabs his ass again, just as Marco’s hands slide up to gently press and squeeze his nipples. Jean’s eyes flutter closed at the attention, momentarily overwhelmed by all the hands on him, by the warmth of his boyfriends pressed against him. “I was dead serious,” Eren says finally, trailing the fingers of one hand down to where Jean’s still stretched around his half-hard cock. “You haven’t gotten fucked in two weeks, babe, that’s a damn sin.”

“I don’t think I can even get hard again,” Jean whines, his breath hitching when Eren rocks up gently into him just as Marco pinches his nipples and hums mischievously.

“Should we take a bet on that?” Marco asks, laughing softly as he nuzzles behind Jean’s ear.

“Jean was just saying,” Eren chimes in, pressing one warm palm to Jean’s stomach and slowly dragging it toward his stirring cock, “That he wants you to take pictures of me and him together.”

“Oh really?”

Eren nods, wrapping his fingers around Jean’s cock and squeezing in a way that has the blonde breathing a low moan. “Yup. ‘S what he was doing when I came home, lookin’ at your pictures. Had his vibe stuffed up his ass and everything.”

“Mm, that sounds awesome,” Marco murmurs, turning to press a soft kiss to Jean’s cheek. “You want more pictures, love?”

“You guys are both evil,” Jean groans, his eyes sliding closed as Eren starts stroking him, rubbing his thumb over the head and grinning when Jean jumps slightly at the feeling with a shivering moan. “I’m gonna die of fluid loss.”

“I’ll bring you some water,” Marco laughs, smoothing Jean’s bangs off his forehead and leaning in to kiss him again, curling his tongue into his mouth as Jean moans into him, his hips starting to rock into Eren’s hand. Jean melts between them, already affected by their hands and their mouths on him. It seems that despite how thoroughly fucked-out both his orgasms had left him, he still has some life left in him, because it really doesn’t take long to have him hard and gasping again.

Leaning his head back with a defeated groan, Jean rides up into Eren’s steady strokes and mumbles, “M-my ass is never going to recover...”

“It’s come back from worse, sugarplum,” Marco replies, wrapping his arms tight around Jean’s waist and unabashedly snuggling him, mostly just for the affronted squawk it drags out of the blonde. Eren laughs, taking the opportunity to pull out of his wriggling boyfriend so he can switch out the condom. While Eren rolls out of bed onto jellied legs and stumbles into the bathroom, Marco keeps Jean occupied, mostly by aggressively nuzzling him and squeezing him until he squeaks.

“Y-you’re so hyper,” Jean wheezes, slumping hopelessly into Marco’s bear hug.

“I had so much coffee,” Marco chirps, pausing briefly to nibble on Jean’s ear. “Plus I missed you. Only got to cuddle a little before I had to leave for class.”

“You guys both act like I was gone for years, Jesus,” Jean laughs. “It’s only finals.”

“I know, but still.”

“Besides,” Eren says, crawling back onto the bed with the lube and a fresh condom, “It’s quiet around here without your noisy ass.”

Jean flips Eren off again, sticking his tongue out for good measure when his boyfriend just laughs at him. Marco buries his face in the crook of Jean’s neck and squeezes again before he gently pushes Jean over to Eren and trips out of bed, haphazardly pulling his pants back up over his hips. He laughs when he turns to them and finds them already wrestling, Eren clearly winning and using his advantage to mercilessly tickle a loudly-complaining Jean.

Marco slips out into the living room to grab his camera off his desk. When he comes back, Eren’s got Jean well and truly pinned, blowing loud, wet raspberries on his flat stomach, which Marco eagerly takes a few pictures of.

“M-Marco,” Jean bleats, ineffectively kicking his legs on either side of Eren, “You’re not even gonna help me?”

“Why would I do that?” Marco lowers the camera and gives them both a sweet grin, running a hand through his hair. “You make cute angry-mammal noises.”

Eren sits up and laughs at Jean, catching his flailing fists easily. “See, this is what you miss when you do lame shit like work for a living. You should stop that and just play with us all day instead.”

“I’m gonna transfer to Japan,” Jean grumbles, wrapping his legs around Eren’s waist and trying unsuccessfully to flip them. “For a whole year.”

“You would never,” Eren snorts, leaning over Jean and pinning his wrists over his head. “You don’t speak Japanese. Besides, you missed us too, admit it.”

“Hype-ass motherfuckers,” Jean huffs, doing a terrible job of fighting the crooked grin spreading over his face. Eren rolls his eyes and ducks to kiss Jean warmly, releasing his wrists so he can twine their fingers gently. Jean hums against his lips, squeezing their fingers, barely aware of the sound of Marco moving around and taking pictures of them.

Marco sits on the bed next to them, running his fingers gently through Jean’s hair with a content hum. He stops to snap a picture of the red scratches down Eren’s shoulders, sliding his hand slowly across the marks, then smiles down at Jean, who’s watching him with a soft smile as Eren kisses and bites at his neck.

“Hi,” Jean hums, tilting his chin up to tempt Marco into another kiss.

“Hey.” Marco slinks down and rolls onto his side, obliging his boyfriend with a warm, slow kiss, deepening it easily and earning a soft, wavering sigh from the blonde. “So, what kind of pictures do you want?”

“Mm, no idea,” Jean murmurs. His eyes shutter closed as Eren sucks a fresh hickey into the pale skin of his neck, just above the line of his shirts, as if celebrating the temporary end of Jean’s professional image. “S-surprise me,” he continues after a moment, blinking back up at Marco with a grin.

Marco hums in thought, nudging his nose against Jean’s, then says, “You guys looked incredible when I came in. Kinda wish I’d thought to grab my camera then... can’t tell you how sweet you two looked like that.” He gives Jean a warm smile, running his knuckles gently down his cheek. “Think you can give me more of that?”

Jean laughs, knocking his heel against Eren’s ass to get his attention. “Hear that, scruffy?”

Eren pulls off his dark hickey, laving his tongue over the bruise gently before he sits up and grins sheepishly at Marco. He’s already rock-solid again at the idea, his cock resting heavy against the low arch of Jean’s hip, cheeks flushing at the way Marco’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Don’t look so bashful,” Marco chuckles, sitting up to tug Eren into a brief, bitey kiss. “You’re a great model.”

“And weirdly photogenic,” Jean huffs, reaching down to palm idly at his stirring arousal. He shivers at his own touch, arching into his hand with a soft sigh, before he brings his other hand to Eren’s cock and curls his fingers around the thick head.

Marco licks his lips, taking a quick picture of that too, before he stands and smiles encouragingly at them. “Just do what you want, don’t mind me.”

Eren nods, rubbing the back of his neck with a crooked grin, until Jean uses his thighs to pull him down again. As they kiss warmly, Jean wraps his arms around Eren’s shoulders with a soft hum. He lets Eren shift them around, hooking one of Jean’s legs over his elbow and reaching to grab the lube, never parting from their deep, slow kiss. Even as he slicks his fingers again and slides them into Jean, spreading him gently open and swallowing his shivering whine, Eren keeps kissing him, biting his flushed lips when Jean tilts his head back and gasps. Jean’s still sensitive, arching and trembling with Eren’s every slow thrust.

Once Eren’s fingers spread easily inside of Jean, brushing teasingly against his prostate and earning a muffled little moan, he pulls them out and moves to grab the condom. He rips it open and rolls it over his heavy arousal, nudging Jean’s chin back so he can mouth down his throat as he does, trailing hot, wet kisses over sensitive skin with a low, rumbling moan. As he shifts and rubs the head of his cock against Jean again, Eren hooks his free arm under Jean’s other knee, and he leans further over his boyfriend and bends him easily in half as he slides his cock inside of him.

Jean arches up against him, whimpering and panting as Eren rocks into him. The angle’s insane, letting Eren hit every oversensitive little part of him as he settles in deep, spreading him open and moaning raggedly against Jean’s throat at the feeling of his tight heat wrapping around him. He grinds into him, the head of his cock teasing slowly past Jean’s sweet spot, and as they both adjust to the feeling, Eren melts against him and leans up to kiss him again.

Marco moves around them, taking as many pictures as he can, especially when Eren, still curling his tongue between Jean’s lips, opens his lust-dark eyes and stares through the lens, right into Marco. Swallowing audibly at the intensity of that look, Marco peers at him over the camera, unable to prevent a shiver from running through him when Eren smiles up at him and sucks gently at Jean’s lower lip.

Moaning softly, Jean rocks his hips up into Eren’s gentle grinds as much as he can, chills creeping over his skin from how sensitive he is still. He can feel everything, every thick inch of Eren buried deep inside of him, the bare stretch of his thighs nearly pressing back against the sheets, and it all kind of leaves him boneless under his boyfriend. He curls one shaking hand over the nape of Eren’s neck and tangles his fingers into his shaggy hair as Eren kisses him brainless, until Eren’s gently-rocking hips grow more insistent. He grinds deeper, then starts pulling back slightly, his thick cock dragging almost tormentingly past Jean’s prostate before he pushes back in to the hilt, filling Jean up again and wringing a pleading moan out of him.

Jean arches against him, eyes shuttering closed as he breathes Eren’s name, toes curling in the air when the brunette obliges him. He thrusts into him slowly, deeply, moaning at the feeling, before he whispers, “F-feels good, Jean.” Jean shivers and gasps, his free hand gripping Eren’s shoulder tightly. “Feels so good, s-still so damn tight. You’re amazing, baby, god, I love being inside you.” Swallowing heavily, Eren rests his forehead against Jean’s cheek and breathes a shaky sigh, trying to focus on keeping his steady rhythm. He’s barely aware of Marco climbing onto the bed beside them, murmuring soft encouragement, but the gentle reminder that Marco’s taking pictures of them sends a thrill of arousal through Eren.

He picks up his pace slightly, pulling back farther and grinding deeper into Jean, moaning raggedly at the feeling. Jean’s so tight, even when he’s been spread open on Eren’s cock for what must be hours. It’s hard for Eren to keep his head when he thinks about it, about the thin, trembling body under him taking his cock so perfectly, about the nails digging into his shoulder again, about the breathy, needy moans filling the humid air around them. He groans Jean’s name, pressing breathless kisses against his flushed cheek as he thrusts into him.

Jean’s not doing much better. He’s so sensitive from everything already, from being so thoroughly spoiled by his boyfriends that all he can do is cling to Eren and whimper for him. Eren’s practically pinning him to the bed, too, bending him in half and stuffing him full of his cock, moaning into the sharp angle of his jaw, taking care of Jean so completely that there’s nothing he could possibly contribute beyond his voice and his shaky hands.

He opens his eyes briefly, though, remembering something. Marco’s standing over them, taking pictures of Jean’s flushed, blissful face, so when Jean cracks a crooked, evil grin at him, Marco blinks and lowers the camera, tilting his head in question. Jean jerks his chin back, gesturing for Marco to move to the foot of the bed again.

Once Marco’s knelt by their heads, still wondering what the blonde’s up to, Jean licks his lips and laughs softly. He tilts his head back and smiles mischievously for the camera, then slips his hands to Eren’s shoulders and slowly drags his nails across them, whimpering, “F-fuck, Eren, baby...” Eren shivers, moving to press warm, soothing kisses to Jean’s cheek. “E-Eren, I love you—ah!”

Eren bucks hard into Jean and grinds deep, his eyes squeezed shut as he presses a stuttering, breathy whine against Jean’s jaw. Marco sighs shakily and takes a flurry of pictures as Eren tries to recover from Jean’s sneak attack, his hands fisted in the sheets on either side of him.

“E-evil,” Eren gasps, nipping sharply at Jean’s jaw, dipping to nibble at his pulse as he rocks into him for another brief moment.

“T-told you,” Jean murmurs, a wide grin spreading over his face as his eyes shutter closed.

Marco swallows quietly, watching Eren get it together enough to start moving again, purposely bending Jean back further so he can thrust right into his abused sweet spot. Jean whines and arches up against him, his nails digging into Eren’s back, sliding in his sweat.

“B-bet I can make you come first,” Jean stutters, nudging Eren until the brunette leans up and gives him another sloppy, dazed kiss.

“N-no fuckin’ way,” Eren replies, nipping at Jean’s lips. He leans over Jean on his hands, thrusting harder, his hips slapping against Jean’s ass as he gasps, “T-try it.”

Jean shudders under Eren, writhing and moaning at the way Eren’s trying to fuck him incoherent, but he still manages to whine, “God, baby, I love you, I love you,” earning himself a loud, shivering moan and a few rough, deep thrusts. He cries out at the feeling, his hands grasping frantically at whatever solid part of Eren he can reach.

As Eren leans his head back with a ragged groan, bucking his hips deeper, Marco can’t help but laugh softly. He continues taking pictures, though, ignoring his aching arousal tenting his boxers in favor of watching his boyfriends drive each other crazy.

Whenever Jean can draw the breath to manage it, he tells Eren he loves him, his voice spiking louder and shakier the more Eren reacts. He’s lost somewhere between trying not to come and trying to get Jean to come, moving into him faster, rougher with every stuttered confession, pounding into him so damn deep he knows it’s gotta be close to rendering him speechless.

He switches tactics when Jean only gets louder, slipping his arms out from under Jean’s tense thighs and instead moving his hands to the blonde’s hips. He hauls Jean into his lap, snapping his hips deep into him, and when he wraps his shaky legs tight around Eren’s waist and arches off the bed with a whimpering cry, Eren leans over him and whispers into his ear.

“So pretty like this, Jean, fallin’ apart under me. Been fuckin’ you all day, and you’re still takin’ me like you were made for me, so damn responsive. M-maybe I should roll us over again, bounce you on my cock, hm? L-love watching you ride me, so eager to get fucked...” Eren groans softly as Jean gasps his name, squeezing tight around him as he rakes his nails down his back, the sweet burn only serving to drive Eren crazier. He growls helplessly against Jean’s ear, gripping his thin hips tight and slamming his cock into him, breathing, “T-take me, take me baby, take my c-cock—fuck, so tight, feels so fucking good, look at you, god Jean—”

Eren’s forgotten already that he’d been intent upon fucking the words right out of his boyfriend, instead nailing Jean to the bed and watching the blonde squirm and buck under him, a perfect, beautiful, disheveled wreck.

All Jean can do is scream Eren’s name, holding onto him with frantic, shaking hands and squeezing his thighs hard around his boyfriend’s waist, arched off the bed and spread wide enough that Eren’s rough thrusts fucking own him just right, filling him up and hitting him so good and fucking marking him just as much as the dark hickeys Eren leaves all across pale skin. Jean’s begging for more, harder, deeper, and Eren gives it to him eagerly, ramming his fat cock into him so damn hard he’s near brainless, right on the edge, waiting for the world to drop out from under him and leave him floating.

“E-Eren,” Jean cries, eyes squeezed shut tight, hips rocking desperately, “Eren, fuck me, don’t stop ‘m gonna come—”

“’S right,” Eren moans, pulling Jean’s hips down into his thrusts, taking control of his body so perfectly. “’S right, baby, wanna s-see you come just from my cock. Fuck, Jean, come for me, let me hear you, d-don’t hold back, you’re so fucking good, k-keep screamin’ my name for me baby—” Eren leans his head back, eyes shuttering closed, and gasps, “J-Jean, Jean, I love you, love y-you—”

It turns out, Jean has no room to talk.

The words send him flying, sparking across his oversensitive skin and spiraling hot through every part of him as he comes again, his cries loud, shaky, desperately forming his boyfriends’ names to some degree. His ears are ringing, every muscle in his body straining and twitching and spasming with Eren’s rough, uneven thrusts, still crying out even as his boyfriend wraps around him and pounds his cock so deep, so rough, whimpering Jean’s name against his throat as he falls right after him, his hands pawing at the blonde and doing whatever he can to press deeper into him.

Somewhere beside them, Marco groans softly, his grip on his camera shaking. He always loves watching them, to be sure, but this time was fucking intense, and the blazing inferno that had whirlwinded around them leaves Marco weak in the knees and gasping for air. He’s almost too overwhelmed to move, but he’s not left with much choice, because Eren and Jean are reaching for him, pulling him onto the bed before they’ve even finished riding out their own orgasms.

Eren relieves him of the camera as Jean tugs him down for a dazed, breathless kiss, weakly pushing Marco’s pants and underwear down and off of him. As Marco whimpers against Jean’s lips, gripping his waist in shaking hands, Jean rolls them onto their sides and tangles their legs, and without pulling away from their messy kiss, reaches down and wraps his hand around Marco’s twitching cock.

Marco clings blindly to Jean and rocks into his fist, breathing desperate little moans against him, searching mindlessly for his own rapidly-approaching orgasm. He’s begging in half-formed pleas, holding Jean hard against him, and he’s too busy mouthing wetly over whatever parts of Jean’s salty skin he can reach to realize that Jean’s rolling a condom onto him. He figures it out about when Jean steadies him and slowly presses onto him, taking him deep into his fucked-out heat with a breathy moan.

Glancing between them, Marco chokes on a whimper and lets Jean roll them so he’s straddling him, watching the blonde with blurry eyes that refuse to focus except on Jean’s dark, half-lidded gaze leaning closer to him.

Sprawled across his chest, squeezing his cock tight, Jean kisses Marco breathlessly and starts moving, rocking down onto him in deep, short thrusts that leave Marco arching under him and gasping for air, pawing desperately at his hips, his ass, his thighs, completely helpless under Jean’s spell. It doesn’t take much beyond Jean’s broken little whine of Marco’s name, his molten body shaking from the overstimulation but still eagerly taking Marco deeper, holding him tight and hot and almost refusing to let him go, for Marco to find himself completely overcome. Throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and bucking his hips up fast and rough, Marco curls his body tight around Jean and whimpers his way through his fucking avalanche of an orgasm, his teeth sinking deep into his pale shoulder but barely muffling his breathy noises.

When he can’t move anymore, for fear that he might actually die from how amazing Jean feels, Marco rolls them back onto their sides and burrows into Jean’s neck with a wrecked little moan.

“J-Jesus Christ,” Eren murmurs from somewhere above them, blinking over the camera at the quaking mess wrapped around a widely-grinning, flushed Jean. He sits heavily next to them, carefully running his hand across Marco’s hunched shoulders. “Jean, did you kill him?”

Jean laughs softly, relaxing into Marco’s brainless grip as he wraps his arms around him and presses soft kisses into mussed black hair. “Did I kill you, love?”

Marco’s best response is a shiver, still hiding his face. He shakes his head slightly, though, so he’s probably not entirely ruined.

“That was insane, goddamn,” Eren sighs, running his hands through his hair with a laugh. “Even if I didn’t break your record.”

Shaking his head, Jean reaches for Eren so he can pull him into a soft, sweet kiss, running his thumb across his cheek. “Don’t think I could come anymore if I tried. Besides, my ass is destroyed, fuck you very much. Not gonna be walking right for a week.”

“Grats on surviving finals,” Eren laughs, sticking his tongue out obnoxiously.

Marco finally surfaces from his burrow, shifting to face daylight with a rattling groan. He reaches for Eren too, letting his boyfriend kiss him lazily and attempt to breathe life into him. Jean wiggles off of Marco’s softening cock with a short hiss, earning a cracked moan that’s half apologetic, half despondent, already missing the blonde’s warmth around him.

Jean and Marco both look pretty out of it, so rather than have to choose who he wants to spoon, Eren just sprawls heavily across both of them, sharing loving kisses with them both until Jean suggests showering the marathon sex off of them. Even afterward, though, Eren and Marco cling warmly to Jean and cuddle him aggressively, more than ready to make up for two weeks’ worth lazy kisses and gentle touches.

Chapter Text

Saturdays are an absolute blessing in this household.

Jean and Marco have the closest things to days off that grad students can get, and Eren (through bribery and oozing charm) managed to wangle his shifts at the coffee shop so he never really works either. Thus, Saturdays are the days where they can sleep in, lie around in whatever they want, do whatever they want, fuck as much as they want... basically a carefully-guarded treasure. Aside from Marco’s absurdly-early Saturday yoga (a very longstanding tradition with Christa), they try to avoid making plans that don’t involve making out with each other.

Today seems to be the usual Saturday. It’s not uncommon for Eren and Jean to both sleep clear through Marco leaving and coming home again, so when the apartment is warm and still in the late morning sunlight, he’s not surprised. He just takes his shower as quietly as he can manage and goes about making coffee, same old.

As he’s spooning coffee into the machine, Marco’s own cheerful humming covers the sound of an approaching predator.

Not like this is terribly unusual either.

Jean slinks up behind Marco with all the grace of a clearly-groggy koala, melting against his boyfriend’s back with a low groan and wrapping his arms around his strong waist. Marco peers at him over his shoulder, but finds only rather impressive blonde bedhead poking up at him.

“Hiya,” Marco chirps, reaching back and pinching playfully at Jean’s bare sides.

“Nrf,” comes the eloquent response. Marco rolls his eyes and sets the coffee to brew, then rests his hands on Jean’s pale arms.

“You actually awake there?”

Jean nods unconvincingly, slipping one lazy hand under the hem of Marco’s shirt. The brunette raises his eyebrows, a smile curling across his lips when Jean’s sleepy nuzzles turn into slow, hot kisses and the gentle hand under his shirt slides suggestively across his hips. He hums, leaning into Jean’s bed-warm embrace.

With a raspy grumble, Jean presses closer behind him, wrapping his arm tighter around him even as the hand under his shirt plays at the hem of his loose pants. Those languid kisses slip up Marco’s shoulder, his breath lingering warm and soothing in the fabric of his shirt, until Jean’s lips meet soft, dark skin still fragrant from the shower. The blonde hums contently and nuzzles into the crook of Marco’s neck, unabashedly taking in his sweet scent before he manages actual words.

“Want you.”

Marco laughs quietly and shifts so he can reach back and tangle his fingers encouragingly in Jean’s hair. Jean practically purrs at the attention, pressing more kisses up the column of Marco’s neck, each one slower, hotter than the last, and they’re entirely successful in their goal of coaxing a shiver out of the brunette.

“Is Eren awake yet?”

“’Course not,” Jean mumbles, straightening up to take Marco’s earlobe between his lips. He sucks at the sensitive flesh there for a moment, then nibbles gently before moving to slide his tongue slowly up his ear, and Marco’s left entirely molten in his arms already.

“Mm, J-Jean,” Marco sighs, biting his lip idly. “Sh-should we try to wake him up?”

“He’ll wake up,” Jean murmurs, pressing soft kisses to Marco’s ear. “You know him.”

“Mhm...”

Jean gives a low chuckle, the smell of coffee helping him gain consciousness somewhat. He dips to bite lovingly along Marco’s neck, careful not to leave any marks, and while the brunette’s still shivering at the gentleness of his teeth, Jean slides his hand under the waistband of Marco’s pants and spreads his fingers lazily over his half-hard cock through his underwear. Cursing softly, Marco leans his head back onto Jean’s shoulder and gives a breathy little moan, pressing his hips into Jean’s palm. The blonde obliges him, curving his hand over his cock and rubbing soothingly, before he whispers, “C’mon, let’s go wake the beast.”

Marco takes a good moment to agree, thoroughly distracted by how warm Jean’s hand is through his underwear, but he follows his boyfriend’s guiding out of the kitchen.

Eren is, as predicted, still a completely unconscious blanket cocoon when Jean and Marco stumble into the bedroom. Jean’s keeping a careful eye out even as he flicks his tongue between Marco’s lips, the brunette’s hands pressed encouragingly to his stubbly face, completely trusting him to get them safely to the bed. Before he pushes him down onto the rumpled sheets, Jean pulls Marco’s shirt off, dipping to mouth along his collarbone for a bare moment.

Even Marco’s weight bouncing onto the bed right beside him doesn’t revive Eren, nor does the jostle of Jean spreading himself across Marco and finding his lips again, shifting between the brunette’s spread thighs and making himself comfortable as Marco’s fingers thread into his messy hair. After a long, indulgent pause to lazily make out, Jean pulls one hand away from Marco’s warm skin to try to shake Eren awake.

They both watch him floppily roll over, but alas, still out cold.

“What should we do?” Marco muses, wiggling around so that Jean’s resting more firmly between his legs.

“Last time he said to just keep on,” Jean murmurs, pressing a few distracted kisses to Marco’s lips. He shifts up onto his elbows, though, and leans closer to Eren. “Hey, scruffy, you want in on this?”

“Mmphfh.”

Marco bites his lips and tries not to giggle, but he’s not entirely successful. He rummages around under the blanket with one hand, tickling lightly over Eren’s toasty stomach as he gently calls his name.

Eren groans weakly, flopping a limp arm out across Marco’s chest, his voice rough and obviously still asleep when he slurs, “Hmmphlove you.”

“Yes, I love you too,” Marco laughs, rubbing his hand encouragingly up and down Eren’s arm. “Do you want some morning sex?”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, Jean tugs the blanket down off Eren’s face, searching for consciousness somewhere in all his dark, tangled hair.

“I’ll tag in,” Eren mumbles after a moment, turning to bury his face back into Jean’s pillow.

“D’you want us to move, or?” Jean offers, relaxing easily with the way Marco runs his free hand soothingly up and down his back.

“Nooo,” Eren wheezes. “’M watchin’. ‘S hot. Don’ go.”

Marco laughs again, bringing Eren’s slack hand to his lips. “Are your eyes even open?”

“Yeah.” They’re not. “’M awake.” He’s not.

Jean snorts, wriggling momentarily over to Eren to give him a slow kiss, which he’s pleasantly surprised to find him sleepily participating in. He sucks briefly at the brunette’s lips, earning a ragged moan, before he murmurs, “Hurry up and tag in, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eren replies, actually squinting up at Jean with a lopsided smile through his bangs, sliding one hand through tangled blonde with another tender kiss. “Marco sandwich, gotcha.”

Laughing softly, Jean nuzzles his nose against Eren’s and kisses him again, encouraged by Marco’s appreciative hum and the gentle spread of his fingers over Jean’s bare chest. He pulls away, though, nibbling Eren’s lips softly before he turns his attention and his loving kisses back to Marco. Marco wiggles happily under him, hitching his knees over Jean’s bony hips and pulling him down onto his chest with a wide smile.

True to his word, Eren scoots right up against Marco’s side, sliding one arm under his neck and budging his way under the brunette’s side just enough that he can drag his tired lips over Marco’s shoulder, pressing warm kisses to pretty clusters of freckles as he runs his hands idly over whichever boyfriend his fingers happen to find. Both Jean and Marco sigh contently at the attention, kissing each other as slowly and deeply as they like, completely without urgency or insistence. Jean slides his hands up Marco’s chest as he slips his tongue between his lips, curling them together with a low moan.

When he shifts closer and rocks his hips down into Marco’s, the brunette’s breath hitches, and a shivering sigh escapes him as Eren’s sleepy kisses turn hot and just the right side of messy as they hit the crook of Marco’s neck. Eren sucks gently, but not hard enough to leave a mark, unconsciously obeying their loosely-held rule. He slides his free hand down over Marco’s warm chest, tracing his nails through the soft hair there before his fingers find one of the brunette’s sensitive nipples. He rubs the pad of his thumb over the hardening nub as Jean kisses across Marco’s flushed cheek, nibbling at the angle of his jaw before he mouths down the other side of his neck, and the feeling of his boyfriends’ hands and mouths and warm bodies pressed so close against his has Marco whimpering into the humid air.

Eren wiggles out of the blankets enough that he can grind his hard cock against Marco’s hip, grumbling at the interference of his boyfriend’s loose pants. The lone disadvantage to sleeping naked. He squeezes Marco’s nipple gently before shifting his hand to tug the pants down over the brunette’s ass as much as he can. Just enough that there’s no fabric in his way to irritate sensitive skin. Biting slowly along the curve of Marco’s shoulder, he shifts close again and rocks against him with a content groan just as Jean slips one hand under the hem of Marco’s pants, under his boxers this time too.

Marco arches up against Jean and pants softly as Eren rhythmically grinds his cock against him and goes back to teasing his nipples, his warm, rough hand sliding easily across his chest as the brunette kisses up to his ear, and Jean, in perfect, loving contrast to Eren, mouths down across his collarbone as he wraps his fingers around Marco’s now-solid cock.

It’s almost too much, being between his two warm, sleepy boyfriends, nearly all of their attention focused on Marco for whatever reason. Jean’s free hand is twined loosely with Eren’s beside them, his thumb soothing over Eren’s as he sucks a light mark under Marco’s collarbone and strokes him slowly, easily. Marco moans shakily, stretching to press an idle kiss to his boyfriends’ twined fingers as he rocks up into Jean’s grip. The blonde hums, kissing his faint pink hickey before he leans up and kisses Marco again, just a brief brush of their lips. Then he shifts to nudge Eren’s cheek with his nose, happy to catch his lips again.

Watching Eren and Jean make out always gets Marco more worked up than he cares to admit, but he imagines the growing slickness easing Jean’s hand on his cock gives him away entirely. Eren’s cock is twitching against Marco’s hip, though, as he fucks his tongue into Jean’s mouth with a teasing purr, and Jean nips at his lips with a crooked grin in some form of retaliation. They kiss again, quick and wet, before they turn their attention back to Marco, eager to have him even more pliant beneath them.

Jean squeezes Eren’s fingers and Marco’s cock gently before he pulls his hands away and sits up, and while he’s pulling Marco’s pants and underwear off and tossing them away, Eren reaches up and smooths his fingers over Marco’s jaw so he can bring him in for lazy kisses too. Marco arches slightly and lets Eren kiss him, parting his lips easily for the brunette’s gentle tongue, and as Jean mouths hot and messy down Marco’s chest, he moans into Eren’s mouth and tilts up into him.

One of Marco’s hands finds Jean’s hair as the blonde kisses down his tense stomach, fingers threading through gently, encouragingly, careful for messy tangles. Jean doesn’t mind either way. He eases Marco’s thighs further apart, nudging his nose against the brunette’s slick cock as he settles onto his stomach. He peers up to watch Marco and Eren kiss, humming at the pretty flush blooming down Marco’s chest, at the quickening pace of his breathing, at the way Eren’s hand is still playing across his chest. Eren’s still slowly rocking against Marco’s hip, too, just enough to keep himself from getting uncomfortable, but the effect it’s having on Marco is obvious and gorgeous.

“Hey, Marco,” Jean murmurs, wrapping his hand back around Marco’s twitching cock. His boyfriend whimpers and arches, his thighs trembling slightly, before he pulls away from Eren’s lips and blearily gazes down at Jean. “What d’you think?”

“M-mm, ‘bout what?” Marco’s eyelids flutter as Eren turns and bites softly up his ear.

“You want anything in particular?” Jean asks as he starts stroking Marco slowly, just for the way it makes the brunette shiver and melt.

“D-dunno,” Marco sighs, tilting his head easily for Eren’s lips making their gentle way along his jaw, dragging soft kisses over his pulse.

“How about,” Eren says, pressing a warm, raspy moan against Marco’s ear, the sound making the brunette’s cock twitch in Jean’s hand. “Jean fucks you nice and slow, hm?” Marco tilts his head back with a sweet little whine, his hips rocking up. Jean hums his approval, then leans up to suck Marco’s foreskin between his lips, his tongue flicking over it as his lips worry it gently, successfully getting another, louder sound out of him.

“A-and y-you?” Marco opens his eyes and turns to Eren, sliding one hand up his rough cheek as he kisses him softly.

“Mm, you let me handle that,” Eren murmurs. He sucks gently at Marco’s lips, humming when Jean shifts a hand over to his bare hip and squeezes. “I got plans. Think you’ll like ‘em. Right now I really jus’ wanna eat you out, though.” Jean sighs softly and blinks up at Eren as he lets Marco’s foreskin slip out of his mouth, moving instead to wrap his lips around him with a thoughtful hum. Marco gasps at the feeling, and again when Jean laves his pierced tongue over his half-sheathed head, the sensation just shy of too much already. Jean has mercy, though, and starts bobbing his head slowly, sucking wetly down Marco’s thick cock and sliding his free hand up his tight stomach as he does.

Once Marco’s got his head back out of the clouds, still panting and rocking up into Jean’s lazy rhythm, he nods his approval and kisses Eren again, moaning against him as Eren curls his tongue between his lips again. He whines for more, and Eren obliges perfectly, keeping up with Marco’s pleas just enough to keep him from getting too needy this early.

Jean’s more than happy to keep sucking Marco off as his boyfriends kiss, slipping his hand off Eren’s hip and trailing it gently over his still-grinding arousal. He buries his nose in the soft curls at the base of Marco’s cock and swallows just as he slides the pad of his finger through the slick precome beading at the tip of Eren’s cock, spreading it around perfectly, and both of his boyfriends moan into each other at his attention.

Eren’s really awake now, though, and he’s nothing if not goal-oriented. He grins down at Marco and nips gently at his lips, then wiggles down until he can lave his tongue over Marco’s perked nipple, still tight and flushed dark from his earlier teasing. Marco arches his chest into the feeling, whimpering as Eren flicks his clever tongue across the nub. Eren sucks it between his lips and worries it gently before he lets it go with a brief kiss and makes his way further down.

It’s almost cold now, with Eren and Jean both trying to fit between his legs, but Marco does his best to accommodate them. He slides his free hand into Eren’s hair as well, and once the brunette’s come level with Jean, who’s still bobbing his head evenly, he grins and nudges his hollowed cheek.

Marco bucks his hips with a sharp gasp when Jean pulls off and tilts his head to make room for Eren, and they kiss each other as best they can around Marco’s flushed, sloppy arousal, all lips and tongue in the best possible ways. He moans their names softly, struggling to keep his eyes open and focused. Eren swipes his broad tongue across the head of Marco’s cock with a sly glance, sighing at the thick taste of his precome, before he nudges in closer and drags his tongue down the soft, sensitive join of Marco’s thigh.

Jean licks his lips and hums, watching Eren nuzzle further between Marco’s shaking thighs, before he presses a sloppy, wet kiss to the head of Marco’s cock, then slinks back up to curl into the brunette’s side to make room for Eren.

Marco’s teeth dig into his lip as he spreads his thighs further and pulls his knees up for Eren, making things easier for him. Even though Eren has absolutely no reservations about eating them out, Marco always feels spoiled from it, just because the care he puts into it is almost unbelievable. Also, he’s insanely good at it. And he knows it too, the bastard, a confident smirk now curling his talented lips as he watches Marco shake with anticipation.

As Eren makes himself comfortable and runs his warm palms slowly up and down Marco’s thighs, Jean watches with a lazy smile from where he’s leaning contently into Marco’s hair. His cock is tenting his sweatpants, though, the only item of clothing still left on the bed, so he reaches down and tugs his arousal out before it starts to annoy him. Marco’s quick to reach down and wrap his hand around him, his trembling fingers dancing through the precome clinging to Jean’s piercing before he sets to stroking him evenly.

They both watch eagerly as Eren gets into it, having been momentarily distracted by the sight of his boyfriends clinging to each other. Marco jumps and whimpers when Eren, still watching intensely, leans in and presses a slow, warm kiss to his entrance, his lips soft and gentle, but more than enough to set Marco’s heart beating faster. He kisses again, eyes sliding shut as his hands slip around Marco’s spread thighs. Jean sighs approvingly, running his fingers soothingly through Marco’s soft, clean hair as he rocks into his stuttering hand. He doesn’t blame Marco for being entirely distracted, though, letting the brunette just hold onto his cock as Eren works him over.

At the first careful swipe of Eren’s tongue, Marco’s eyes roll shut and his back arches, his head dropping back into the pillows. His thighs fall apart as much as Eren’s grip allows, spreading himself open for the brunette’s talented mouth. Jean takes the opportunity to pull Marco’s hand off his cock and over his own head, dropping Marco’s arm around his shoulders. His boyfriend clings to him easily, his other hand still just barely trailing through Eren’s hair when he can reach.

Jean nuzzles into Marco’s cheek and watches, dropping his hand to the brunette’s twitching cock again as Eren presses closer and spreads the flat of his tongue over Marco again, happily burying himself in his task. As Jean strokes Marco slowly, Eren lazily kisses his entrance, not bothering to hold back the wet sounds of his lips. They just make Marco hotter, anyway. Marco moans raggedly and squirms for his boyfriends, panting as he’s once again happily caught between their affection.

Eren laves his tongue over Marco a few more times before he seals his lips over him and slips the tip of his tongue against his entrance, stiffening the muscle pointedly and circling over slowly-softening flesh. Encouraged by Marco’s stuttering gasps of his name, and by his breathless moans of Jean’s, Eren presses forward, rubbing his tongue against him until he can work it inside of him, and the sound Marco makes at that is incredible.

As Marco relaxes for him, Eren thrusts his tongue slowly deeper, flickering and curling where he can, pulling back and laving over him again just to wring more breathless moans out of him. He wiggles even closer and thrusts his tongue deeper, humming as he keeps a brief, quick rhythm. Marco arches and trembles again, his hands pulling at Eren’s hair and digging into Jean’s shoulder, the blonde’s hand still moving slowly over his achingly-hard cock. Eren purrs into Marco, curling his tongue wickedly, before he pulls out again and presses warm, wet kisses against him. Cursing softly, Marco wiggles toward him for more, eyes still blissfully closed as he’s thoroughly spoiled.

“Th-that feels—fuck, Eren—f-feels really good,” Marco whines, arching his hips into Eren’s lips. He turns and nuzzles against Jean with a shivering sigh, and the blonde happily tilts in and kisses him deeply, swallowing his eager moans as their tongues twist lazily. Eren hums in response, pressing the sound teasingly against Marco’s skin, before he runs his hands slowly up the brunette’s hips and over his tensing stomach as he flicks his tongue back into him.

Marco’s little sounds grow more urgent, his hips bucking for more and his thighs shaking harder as Eren licks deeper into him, kissing noisily as he stiffens his tongue again and gently holds Marco’s hips against his face. Between Eren’s phenomenal mouth and Jean stroking him, Marco’s a whimpering mess in no time, sloppy precome already slicking Jean’s every move as he clings to the blonde and kisses him desperately. Eren’s hands petting him only serve to break him down faster.

When Eren pulls one hand down and eases a finger into Marco beside his tongue, the brunette tenses and whines loudly, encouragingly. Eren curls his finger up into Marco’s sweet spot, having long since memorized exactly how to find it, and as he fucks his tongue into him and rubs slow circles over his prostate, Marco forgets what he’s doing entirely and just keens raggedly. He’s shaking harder, gasping Jean’s even breaths and returning them in brainless little whimpers, his hands tensing and grabbing for some sort of anchor, something to keep him from floating away.

With a few messy kisses, Eren pulls his tongue back and leans up to lick his lips and watch Jean and Marco, and he placates the brunette’s disappointment by gently working a second finger into him and thrusting them steadily.

“Hey, Jean,” Eren murmurs, raising his eyebrows pointedly as Jean’s heated gaze falls to his again. Marco leans his head back and shudders under them, his whines growing pleading as Eren’s spit-slick fingers start to drag slightly. Eren slows down and licks soothingly over the stretched ring of Marco’s entrance as Jean rolls to get the lube off the nightstand.

Once he’s taken the bottle, Eren spreads his fingers gently and flicks his tongue between them once more, then sits up and pops the cap on the lube. He dribbles the cool liquid onto his fingers and over Marco’s entrance easily, uncaring for the mess he’s making on the sheets, and when the brunette gasps and tightens around Eren, Jean murmurs sweet love in his ear and slides his fingers from his cock down to the relatively chilly mess now covering Eren’s hand. He slicks his palm and helps spread some warmth around, gently kissing across Marco’s cheekbone, beside his eye, up to his temple, before he slides his hand back up and picks up stroking him again.

Between the now-easy slide of Eren’s long, thick fingers thrusting slowly into him and the steady pace of Jean’s slick hand moving over him, Marco relaxes under them again, opening his hazy eyes to watch Eren work him open. The brunette’s gaze is warm and so intense, his eyes burning sweet trails over Marco’s squirming body, and when their eyes meet, Eren gives him a crooked grin and curves his fingers firmly into Marco’s sweet spot again. Marco twitches and arches, gasping Eren’s name, then shivers as Eren works a third finger into him and spreads them gently.

Jean kisses Marco’s cheek again before he pulls away from him and sits up on his knees to wrestle his pants the rest of the way off. He leans back for a few condoms, within easy reach in the nightstand drawer, then shifts to catch Eren’s lips in a bitey, eager kiss as he opens one and rolls it over his own straining cock. Eren moans into their kiss and spreads his curled fingers inside Marco again, running his free hand up the brunette’s arched ribs as Jean snags the lube and slicks himself with it.

“S-so,” Jean murmurs against Eren’s lips, flicking his tongue between them with a lazy smile. “What’re these plans of yours, hm?”

Eren glances down at Marco, who’s just gripping the pillow under his head for support, before he grins widely and leans into Jean’s ear to fill him in out of earshot. Jean hums and presses his lips to the crook of Eren’s neck as he listens, his smile still obvious even as he mouths over dark flesh and nods. Marco whimpers ineffectively at them, but he knows when he’s being ganged up on. He also doesn’t mind it in the least. If anything, he knows he can trust his boys to take good care of him, even if they might torment him slightly in the process. It’s all worth it.

Curling his fingers up again, Eren catches Jean’s lips again for a moment before he eases his fingers out and wipes them carelessly on the already-messy sheet. Then he crawls back up to Marco’s side and melts against him, dipping to give the panting brunette a slow kiss as Jean settles between Marco’s thighs again.

Pulling back slightly, Eren hums contently as Jean rests over Marco on one elbow and kisses him soundly, reassuringly, just enough to soothe Marco’s growing impatience as he waits for Jean to fill him up. Then Jean leans up again, and he and Eren both watch as Marco’s eyelids flutter at the first tentative press of Jean’s pierced cock.

Marco wraps his legs around Jean’s waist and rocks up against him as he moans for them, showing them his eagerness, and the gesture does not go unrewarded. Jean steadies himself with his free hand and presses against Marco again, moaning his name breathlessly as the head slides into the brunette’s tight heat. Eren had done a perfect job of working Marco open, leaving him relaxed and welcoming and so hot, squeezing around Jean as the blonde works his cock into his boyfriend in gentle, rolling thrusts. Marco’s eyes fall closed again as his spine arches off the bed, his hands searching for his boyfriends as Jean’s cock slides ever deeper, stretching him and filling him perfectly. Eren catches one of Marco’s hands and laces their fingers just as Jean does the same for the other, dipping to mouth wetly at the brunette’s arched, flushed throat. Eren ducks to swallow Marco’s raspy moans in more warm kisses, whispering sweet love against his lips as he squeezes his hand, and by the time Jean bottoms out, Marco’s already shaking for more.

Whimpering Jean’s name against Eren’s lips, Marco squirms under him and rocks back into the blonde’s hips, already breathless at the feeling of Jean inside of him, so amazingly hard for him. Eren moans softly and tangles his tongue with Marco’s, coaxing more sweet, pleading sounds out of him.

Once Jean’s recovered somewhat, able to think around the incredible sensation of his boyfriend tight around him, he licks slowly up to Marco’s flushed ear and moans against it, chills breaking out across his pale skin when the sound has Marco squeezing his cock again. “Y-you ready for me, baby?” Jean asks quietly, even though he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer. Marco whines his affirmative against Eren’s lips, panting softly, so Jean sighs tremulously and whispers, “I love you, Marco.”

As if the words alone weren’t enough to have Marco keening, just as Jean pulls back slowly, achingly, and then rolls his hips back in perfectly, Eren smiles into their kiss and repeats them himself, and Marco’s already lost in the haze of his boyfriends’ perfect affection.

He whimpers and moans as Jean sets up a deep, steady rhythm, slow and easy but so, so good, his cock curved just right to have Marco gasping for him. He nuzzles into the brunette’s ear as Eren squeezes Marco’s hand and kisses his cheek, leaving his lips free to breathlessly call their names, both of his hands trembling in each of theirs.

As Jean makes gentle love to him, Eren whispers sweet nothings to him, and between them Marco isn’t left wanting for anything. He pants for more and receives it, he gasps their names and earns soft kisses and tender words, surrounded by them and filled up by them and taken care of by them, floating between Eren’s perfect hands and lips and Jean’s perfect, grinding pace. It’s more than Marco could ever think to ask for, and it’s perfect in its tenderness and its attention.

Jean balances his weight on his forearm, still holding Marco’s hand tight, and as he nibbles at the angle of Marco’s jaw, he slides his free hand down around Eren’s cock and strokes him too, and the feeling has Eren moaning into Marco’s ear. Eren shifts until he can run his free hand through Jean’s hair, scratching his nails through his undercut as he kisses over Marco’s temple.

By the time Marco’s brainless moans echo around them in time to Jean’s hips, thrusting deeper now, faster as Marco requests it, the brunette is flying, his body shaking and gentle sparks dancing across his sweat-slick skin. Jean’s cock hits him just right, just enough to send Marco higher but not too much, not just yet. Between his boyfriends, he’s soothed and loved and so damn happy about it that, before he can stop himself, his moans turn into sweet, breathless laughs, a lazy, pleasure-laced smile spreading across his flushed face.

Eren grins down at Marco and rocks into Jean’s hand, curving his palm against the nape of the blonde’s neck even as Jean tilts his head back with a gasping moan of his own, just barely holding it together with how amazing Marco feels around him. He’s still paying attention, though, so when Eren catches his attention with a soft whisper and jerks his chin pointedly, all he can do is laugh and nod.

Marco’s obviously confused when Eren leans away from them, even more so when Jean sits up and pulls out, but before he can think to say anything beyond a disappointed whine, they’ve got him covered. Jean grins and runs his hands down Marco’s flushed chest to his hips, coaxing him into rolling over onto his hands and knees, and Marco finds himself now firmly straddling a warmly-smiling Eren, who wastes no time in pulling Marco down onto his chest and murmuring, “C’mere, sweetheart,” before he kisses him senseless. He’s not left empty for long either, what with Jean gently pulling his hips into position before he slides his cock back into him. Marco’s moan is muffled between Eren’s lips, but his appreciation of Jean’s perfect aim doesn’t go unnoticed.

Jean licks his lips and spreads his hands over Marco’s back as Eren gets them situated, shifting beneath them until he’s got what he wanted. He pulls away from Marco’s kisses just long enough to give his okay, but then his lips are right back against Marco’s, one hand carding through dark hair soothingly. Jean murmurs sweet comfort to them and edges closer, and when he picks up his firm, steady thrusts again, Marco finally gets some clue as to their plan.

With every thrust of Jean’s hips, Marco’s body rocks against Eren’s, and Eren’s free hand now wrapped around their cocks holds them together just so, just so that every sweet movement rubs his sensitive arousal against Eren’s.

It’s perfect.

With lips against his, Eren’s hand keeping them aligned, and Jean now leaning down against his back and trailing loving kisses over his trembling shoulder as he moves into him, Marco finds that every need he could possibly have is satisfied and then some. He is absolutely the most spoiled man alive between Eren and Jean, and they’re more than encouraging him to enjoy it to the fullest, so he does.

Between increasingly sloppy kisses, Marco whimpers eagerly, panting moans shaped around their names and mindless praises and gasped love for them both, his body pliant between them and so welcoming of all of their affections. It’s so good, though, with Jean rocking quickly into him hard enough that his hips against Marco’s ass fill the air with the soft slap of skin on skin, and with Eren now stroking and rubbing and grinding up against him as he moans into him. So good.

Marco’s sounds grow louder, needier, his spread thighs trembling and his hips circling in perfect, desperate time with them, his precome slicking the drag of his cock against Eren’s. Jean’s aim is so good, so wonderful, but he hisses softly and shifts deeper, shifts his angle, and then his aim is blinding, and Marco can’t help but throw his head back against Jean’s shoulder with a wavering, noisy cry of the blonde’s name.

“Th-there, sweetheart?” Eren whispers, his hand moving faster over them, and Marco cries his agreement and arches his back tight for more. “So pretty, Marco, you like that?”

Even though he doesn’t have to nod, Marco does, and Jean groans against his ear and thrusts harder into him, faster, working to keep the angle that makes Marco’s voice echo so nicely and succeeding perfectly. Marco’s crying out more and more for them, his precome coming thicker and messier over Eren’s steadily-working fingers, and without meaning to, Marco’s laughing again. He feels so good, though, so loved and so pleased and so spoiled that he can’t help but grin around his bitten lip, blushing and gorgeous.

Eren moans and bucks his hips up at the way Marco looks right now, his own expression once again brainless and lovestruck, although his eyes flick restlessly between Marco and Jean, who’s flushed bright and moaning desperately into Marco’s ear with every shaking thrust, trying not to come until Marco has at the very least.

Jean’s hips stutter when Marco squeezes him, a cry of his own pressed into his boyfriend’s dark, mussed hair, but once he’s recovered, he shifts his hands to grip Marco’s hips so he can pull him back onto his cock as he pounds harder into him. Marco’s eyes squeeze shut tighter, his spine arching beautifully, and he scrambles up onto his hands over Eren so that, as he slams himself back onto Jean, he also rocks forward hard against Eren’s cock, his cries ever louder, ever sweeter, until the thunderous beat of his heart and the burning pleasure wrought into his skin by his boyfriends’ bodies takes him over.

As Marco comes, his head tilted back and his face blissful, his voice rises higher, louder, breathless and shaky as he babbles their names in a rapid, worshipful jumble. Jean’s eyes roll shut as Marco tightens around him and grinds back into him, his own moans becoming too loud to muffle against the brunette’s shoulder, and his final slamming thrusts coax yet more beautiful sounds of them both. His hand slick with Marco’s come still splattering across his dark skin in spurts, Eren tightens his grip and bucks his hips, and between a few rough strokes and the way his shivering boyfriends look over him, Eren finds himself coming with their names on his lips as well, back arched tight off the bed, head thrown back into the sheets.

Once the ringing in Eren’s ears clears, and once Jean’s hips twitch to a halt, Marco’s still flying, biting his lip and grinning until his head drops and he laughs breathlessly, “F-fuck, fuck, that’s so good—s-so good...” His own hips come to a stop too, though, his shoulders trembling and his muscles still tight with pleasure, and he collapses onto Eren’s chest and buries his brainless whispers and praises in the brunette’s throat.

Jean sighs shakily and rests his forehead against Marco’s shoulder for a moment as he recovers, his hands still holding his boyfriend tight against him. Eren breathes a raspy laugh into Marco’s ear and spreads his fingers through their come sprayed messy across his chest, burying his nose into sweat-damp black hair for a long moment.

When Jean finally gets it together and pulls out, Marco presses a shivering moan against Eren’s shoulder and promptly collapses altogether, happily smearing their mess between their chests. He’s still murmuring, voice muffled by sweat-slick skin, his body trembling.

“Hey, M-Marco,” Jean murmurs, leaning further over him on violently-shaking arms. “You okay there, love?”

His only response is a garbled, giggly, “So g-good,” but it’s enough for Jean, who rolls off to the side with a loud whuff.

It’s rare that Marco finds himself so overcome that all he can do is snuggle and mumble praises, but it stands as a true testament to his boyfriends’ job well done. Eren laughs and slings his free arm across Marco’s shoulders, pressing kisses over his ear as he calms down.

Once they’ve cleaned up some time later, Eren and Jean still bracketing an extremely pleased Marco and trading lazy kisses, Marco sighs contently and buries his face in his hands, sinking back into the sheets.

“How’s it going there, Giggles?” Eren teases, biting gently at Marco’s wrist.

“S-sorry,” Marco wheezes, squirming contently. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just. That was so good.”

“So I figured,” Jean laughs, reaching across Marco’s now-clean stomach to run his hand over Eren’s side. “And so you said.”

“What brought that about?” Marco asks, letting his arms fall comfortably above his head.

Eren hums and kisses Marco’s cheek warmly, scratching his short nails through the soft line of curls trailing down his boyfriend’s stomach. “Thought there wasn’t enough Marco sandwich lately.”

Jean nods his agreement, adding, “Plus you’re always super cute coming home from yoga.” Eren nods enthusiastically.

“Oh, shit,” Marco laughs, slapping a limp hand against his face. “Probably burned the coffee, huh.”

“Oh yeah...” Eren aims a disdainful look over at Jean. “Some heathen will still drink it, I imagine.”

“Hey, I like jet fuel,” Jean grouses, playfully hiding from Eren’s coffee-elitist scorn in Marco’s shoulder.

“Gross.”

“Go make more, then.”

“Nah,” Eren chuckles, tangling his legs further with Marco’s. “Don’t need it.”

It’s still relatively early in the afternoon, but none of them leave the bed until the sun’s already starting to set and the coffee’s burnt even beyond Jean’s tolerance, and even then it’s only the vague need for food and a real shower that motivates them to leave each other’s snuggly embrace.

Chapter Text

--1.

Obviously, the way Marco touches himself really depends on what he needs, as expected. Sometimes he takes his time and strokes himself slow and teasing, playing with his sensitive foreskin, winding his fingers through his thick, dripping precome. Sometimes he fists his aching cock hard and fast, panting around his bitten knuckles, trying as hard as he can to just get there.

By and large, though, a word for how Marco jacks off is ‘squirmy.’

On the rare occasion that he has the house to himself and he just can’t wait, Marco can usually be found writhing in the sheets he shares with his boys, his hips rolling insistently into his firm grip. He doesn’t often bother to muffle his needy sounds, given that if one of his boyfriends comes home before he finishes, it’ll be a pretty quick invitation for whoever happens to find him.

His thighs always tense and twitch when he strokes his foreskin over the sensitive head of his cock, shifting and spreading as his hand moves steadily, always just to whatever rhythm he’s in the mood for. When he’s alone, he’s not always as loud as he could be, but when his head falls back into the pillows, his shivering little gasps and breathy moans easily betray his pleasure. If he really needs something inside him, he usually goes for something he can just spread himself open on and leave inside, just something to fill him up until he can have the real thing later. He’s become a master of angling toys inside himself so that they hit him just right, and when he starts wiggling and bucking and rolling his hips, he always manages to situate himself against the bed so the toy rubs against his sweet spot in perfect time to his increasingly-frantic strokes.

When he comes, he always shakes, his weak thighs quaking under the pace of his own hand. He leans his head back and arches off the bed, his free hand busy running his nails achingly slow down his sweat-slick chest, down his tensed, rocking hips, harder along the insides of his strong thighs where he’s really sensitive, and his quick, panting little whines always spell out his boys’ names in tandem, a jumbled mess giving away his need to feel both of their hands all over him, spoiling him rotten.

It’s not often that Marco has to get himself off alone, but when he does, he has no qualms giving himself exactly what he needs for as long as he needs. By the time he’s done, he’s usually exhausted and so pleased, his panting chest covered in his own come, and really the only thing that would make all this better would be his boyfriends’ matching, devious grins above him.

--2.

When it comes to getting himself off, Jean doesn’t have a patient bone in his body. More often than not, he just jacks off to get rid of a persistent boner until he can get his hands on his boyfriends. Just something to get him by.

Sometimes, though, Jean has needs. Needs that require his boyfriends’ bodies against his, their cocks inside of him, their flushed faces and bitten lips and their undivided attention. And sometimes these needs show up when neither of his boyfriends are even close to being able to come home and oblige him.

When these needs arise, Jean begrudgingly takes matters into his own hands.

In desperate times, Jean can be found face down, ass up, eyes shut tight against the reality of the empty apartment, with one hand frantically thrusting a big rubber cock deep into his ass. He would be crying out at the feeling, especially when he finally manages to angle the head along his sensitive prostate, but when he gets this bad, he usually muffles his noisy moans around three of his own fingers stuffed between his needy lips.

As he sucks on his shaking fingers and fucks his own brains out, Jean imagines his sweet boyfriends lovingly pressing him against the sheets, giving it to him just as hard as he wants it, telling him in raspy voices how good he is, how well he takes them, how pretty he looks. Just like they would in real life.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to touch his precome-slick cock to come. Sometimes it’s enough just like this, filling himself up over and over with a nice thick toy, stroking his fingers along his slick tongue. It’s enough to imagine the way he might choke wetly on one of his boys while the other holds him in place and sighs about how hot, how tight he is, leaning over him to kiss the other around rough, satisfied moans.

He’s not ready to admit it, but Jean comes hardest when he imagines Marco and Eren both coming inside him, leaving a messy, possessive signature dripping down his quaking thighs and lovingly praising him for it, their warm hands soothing all along his sweaty skin and easing him down off his earth-shattering orgasm just from the idea.

Maybe one day.

Until then, Jean’s biggest worry once his ears have stopped ringing and his head has come down out of the clouds is usually the impressive spray of his own come he’d left all along their sheets.

--3.

Eren doesn’t usually like jacking off in the bed he shares with his boyfriends. Not due to any deep symbolism or anything; jacking off just makes him really sleepy. If he’s sprawled across their bed when he gets himself off, nine times out of ten he ends up snoring, thick come starting to stick in the dark hair trailing down his stomach. Not terribly comfortable. Plus, finding him in such a state gives Jean ample teasing material, which may or may not secretly amuse Eren as much as it does his goober boyfriend.

Instead, Eren’s preferred location is their couch. Still comfortable, but not so much that he’ll just pass out immediately after he gets off. It’s a good balance.

It’s a pretty simple process for him, too. Nothing too extravagant. A good amount of lube to keep things nice and slippery, a tissue to avoid making a mess if he’s got the presence of mind, and that’s about it. He’s a simple guy. Teasing his pierced nipples works nicely, too, and if he builds himself up just right, sometimes a well-timed squeeze is enough to send him flying.

Most of the time, he’ll think about one or both of his boyfriends sucking him off, something quick and easy and more than a little enjoyable, given the high-quality blowjobs they spoil him with. Maybe he’ll think about clinging to one while the other works him over so he has someone to kiss and hold and moan into, someone to hum appreciatively and run gentle fingers through his hair and lovingly scratch behind his ears.

Aside from the blowjobs, he usually imagines himself fucking his boyfriends, shivering and sighing quietly at the way they feel around him, the way they sound begging for more of him. Jean and Marco both look so pretty under him, arching up against him and spreading themselves wider for him, gasping and moaning and praising the way he feels stuffing them full.

It’s rare, but sometimes even those well-worn mental images aren’t what Eren’s looking for. Once in a great while, flicking the pad of his finger across his nipples and fisting his lube-slick cock aren’t enough, and his mind wanders to the handful of times he’d switched places with them. The few times Jean or Marco had topped him, always so careful of his needs, making sure to ask him what he wants and give him exactly that.

In times like these, Eren finds himself shifting to sprawl along the couch, his pants shoved down around his knees, one hand squeezing and stroking steadily while the other trails down his chest, along his tense stomach, until slick fingers slip between his thighs and shaky little moans escape as he carefully works two fingers into himself.

Obviously, it feels better when the fingers spreading him open belong to one of his boyfriends, but it’s almost enough to pretend that they are. They’re slow and attentive, staying close to him and gently kissing away the quiet noises dripping from his parted lips, holding him and easing him into relaxing under them.

When Eren imagines Marco’s fingers moving inside of him, Jean’s soft lips on his, both of them encouraging yet more sweet sounds out of him and praising him for his trust and his patience, it’s hard to keep from rocking his hips into his own hands, to keep his lips bitten around gasping whines and shaky keens of their names, little pleas for more of the hand working his cock or more of the fingers curving perfectly into his sweet spot. He knows exactly how they would touch him, though, how they would coax him higher, how Marco would hold him and stroke him and kiss him as Jean eases his pierced cock deep inside of him, and that knowledge alone is enough to get him to let go for them.

It’s rare that Eren comes more from the mental image of his boyfriends taking such slow, loving care of him than from the feeling of his hand sliding quickly across his aching cock, but after he arches up off the couch and tightens around his fingers and whimpers for Jean and Marco, eyes squeezed shut tight, he usually has to fight the urge to fall comfortably asleep even more than when he jacks off on their cozy-ass bed.

--4.

The first summer they’re home from college, Jean and Marco are way too used to the freedom of their shared dorm room.

It’s not that they have to hide their relationship or anything when they’re back home. Their families definitely know they’re together. Marco’s parents even did that weird thing where they placed bets on when he and Jean would end up getting together. (Marco’s dad won.)

No, it’s less that they have to worry about their fond glances and the lingering brushes of their hands, and more that they have to try really hard to find places where they can fuck each other without almost getting caught all the damn time. Marco has a billion family members and Jean’s sister Hitch is worth about a trillion nosy siblings by herself, and having the freedom at school to fuck around as much and as long as they want has absolutely spoiled them.

Jean’s rickshaw old car still runs somehow, so it’s sooner rather than later that desperation takes hold and they start driving it around in search of somewhere relatively more private than their houses. While the idea of ‘makeout point’ is pretty much a fairy tale of the 90s at this point, they still manage to find a scenic highway overlook a few miles outside of town that suits them just fine most of the time.

This time, Jean just barely manages to park crookedly across two spots before Marco’s in his lap, kissing him desperately and pawing at his straining zipper with shaking hands. There had been a fire in their blood all day today, their fingers itching to grab and touch and pull, and it’s just past curfew on a Wednesday when they finally get their burning hands on each other.

It takes almost no time at all for Marco to sink down onto Jean’s cock, tilting his head back with a shivering moan as he drops the condom wrapper into the cupholder and forgets about it. Jean’s still-slick fingers digging into his soft hips, shifting to grab firm handfuls of his ass as he settles into his lap are significantly more important to him. He tilts his head to the side for Jean’s searching lips, moaning sweetly at the humid, panting breath sending chills dancing across his flushed, oversensitive skin.

The radio’s playing some weird, bass-heavy alt rock or something, but it’s honestly just background noise to them. Marco sighs against Jean’s ear, pressing their chests tight together and shifting under the rough pressure of their half-discarded clothes as he whispers, “God, I n-needed this...”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Jean gasps, turning to plant a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses up the sweat-slick column of Marco’s neck. “Fuck, baby, you feel s-so good, so tight—”

Marco whines in response, fisting one hand in Jean’s messy hair as he braces his knees and starts rocking his hips, and the way Jean freezes up under him, then melts with a loud, wavering moan is more than enough to override the uncomfortable heat of his wrinkled shirt bunched up against Marco’s bare chest.

“F-fuck, Marco,” Jean breathes, pawing even harder at Marco’s plush ass as he starts pushing up into him, rolling his hips in time to his boyfriend’s impatient rhythm. “Fuck, I’m n-not gonna last, babe, t-too—”

“Too built up,” Marco groans, circling his hips in a way he knows makes Jean crazy. Just as predicted, Jean twitches under him, keening and gripping his hips almost bruisingly tight. “I know, god, I know,” Marco continues, pulling back enough to catch Jean in a sloppy, wet kiss, their mixed breath panting out hot between the brief partings of their lips. “Jean, please, please—”

“You want more, Marco?” Jean nips at Marco’s flushed lips, nuzzling their noses together as he grinds up roughly, earning himself a sweet, gasping moan. “I can—I can get us there, b-but—”

“I d-don’t care ‘f you come quick,” Marco whimpers, tugging on his tangled handful of blonde hair so he can drag his teeth up the smooth, sweaty arch of Jean’s throat. “Don’t care, wanna feel you, p-please...”

“Fuck.” Jean leans his head back and rocks up into Marco a few more times, his frantic hands searching and pulling and squeezing at his boyfriend’s soft, pretty body. “Fuck, okay, o-okay, just—just lean back against the thing, the th-thing—”

Marco laughs, the sound raw and hazy pressed right into Jean’s ear, ragged enough to send a thrill racing through him, but the brunette catches his boyfriend’s drift. He nips along the curve of his ear a few times more, just trying to drive Jean a little crazier, before he pulls away and leans back against the steering wheel with an absurdly sexy smirk and a minxy little swivel of his hips. Trailing his hands along Jean’s strong forearms, Marco licks his lips and drags his intense gaze over Jean’s rucked-up shirt, over his flushed face and kiss-swollen lips, over the heat radiating from his dark eyes.

“You got me, love,” Marco breathes, squeezing and rocking his hips enticingly, and once Jean’s figured out how to function again, he shoots Marco a crooked grin and gives his soaked cock a few quick, firm strokes as payback. Marco whines, spreading his thighs as wide as he can against the restraint of his pants, wiggling and squirming in Jean’s lap in search of more of his attention.

“H-here, up,” Jean mumbles, slouching down slightly. “U-up on your knees for me, fuck you look good...”

Moaning softly, Marco obeys and arches up onto his unsteady knees, and Jean gives a shuddering, overwhelmed little whimper before he makes perfect use of the bare space between their hips.

When Jean plants his feet and starts pounding his cock up into Marco, the brunette squeezes his eyes shut and lets his head fall back, unable to stifle his noisy moans at the intense feeling of Jean’s cock filling him up and fucking him open so perfectly, exactly how he’s needed it all fucking day. And Jean doesn’t stop, either. He throws his head back against the headrest and gasps Marco’s name over and over, but he keeps that blinding rhythm, keeps slamming his hips up against his boyfriend’s perfect ass, shaking as he struggles with the stubborn urge to get Marco off first.

Marco’s absolutely blown away by how amazing Jean feels after an entire day of making eyes at each other and sending lewd texts. It’s been too damn long since he felt the sweet burn of Jean fucking him just hard enough, and this angle is perfect. Even the harsh drag of his jeans bunched up around his thighs is starting to feel good, more hot friction to add to the blazing inferno Jean’s lighting inside of him. He can’t help but cry out for more, for Jean, for anything as his dripping cock bounces between them and his nails dig red crescents into Jean’s bare knees just above the rumpled hem of his pants.

“M-Marco, Marco,” Jean whines, bucking up faster, his tense hands starting to pull Marco down harder into his lap, “Baby, ‘m gonna come, n-need you to—p-please baby, please come for me, n-need to see you come on my cock, please—”

“God, Jean,” Marco cries, riding down into his boyfriend’s desperate rhythm. “God, ‘m right there, t-touch me? P-please, I’m right there, fuck—”

With a cracked whimper, Jean pulls one hand away from Marco’s hip, but not before he gives the brunette’s ass a sharp, noisy smack, moaning loudly at the way Marco squeezes around him with a hitched gasp. He wraps his hand around Marco’s slick arousal, though, and strokes him quickly, firmly, his teeth gnawing on his flushed lips to keep from coming first. Between that face, the sweet pressure of Jean’s fist, and the frantic, urgent way his boyfriend’s cock is pounding up into him, Marco finds himself desperately shifting his hands to anchor himself.

His orgasm builds fast and hard and so fucking good that Marco can’t help but laugh as he grips the gearshift in one hand and slams the other against the roof of the car, jerking his hips, and then he’s coming, his head thrown back and his spine arched tight over the steering wheel and the rush of pleasure leaving him calling out Jean’s name and grinning in flushed, overwhelmed perfection.

Marco’s ears are ringing from the insane thunder of his pulse, still giggling when he slumps against the steering wheel, but he’s more than aware of Jean ramming his cock into his tight heat just a few more times before he throws his arms around Marco’s waist and clings to him as he comes, gasping and whimpering against his bare chest as he shakes apart under him. Still trying to catch his breath, Marco manages to open one bleary eye to check on his poor boyfriend, watching Jean mouth brainlessly across his flushed skin while he comes down out of the clouds, twitching from the intensity. He’d been holding on for so long, between waiting to get Marco alone and the hard-on he’d been sporting the whole drive here.

Breathing a raspy hum, Marco uncurls his numb fingers from the gearshift and scratches his nails through Jean’s shaggy undercut. The moment he relaxes his shoulders, though, his back hits the car horn.

Their hearts had already been pounding, but the explosion of the damn horn blasting through the humid quiet nearly kills them both. Despite the jolt, Jean laughs shakily and pulls Marco back against his messy chest for some quality making out before they have to head back home.

--5.

“Baby,” Eren laughs as he tries to nudge Jean with his chin enough to see his face. He slides his free hand up the hem of his boyfriend’s loose hoodie, tickling warm fingers over soft skin and earning himself a sleepy little grumble. “Jean, hey, are you sure you don’t just wanna go to sleep?”

“Mmmno,” Jean huffs, stubbornly burrowing his face further into the crook of Eren’s neck. He shivers and rocks his hips lazily, taking Eren’s gentle, lube-slick fingers deeper inside of himself, spreading his bare thighs wider over the brunette’s lap as he does.

Sighing softly, Eren runs his palm up Jean’s narrow chest and crooks his fingers, smiling at the cracked little moan Jean breathes against his skin. “Are you gonna fall asleep sitting on my dick?”

“No,” comes the unconvincing reply. Jean clings tighter to him, squeezing impatiently around Eren’s steadily-working fingers. “C’mon, quit teasing me...”

“Alright, alright,” Eren murmurs, slowly working a third finger into his grouchy boyfriend. He spreads them gently and retrieves his free hand to grab the condom Jean had thrown at his head earlier, stuffing it between his teeth for now. “Hey, you keepin’ that hoodie on?”

Nodding slightly, Jean shifts to scratch his fingers through Eren’s hair. “’M cold.”

“It’s gonna get jizz on it.”

Jean just whines in response, parting his lips to suck wetly at Eren’s pulse as he writhes in his lap, scooting even closer so he can rub their hard cocks together.

It turns out, when Jean gets sleep-deprived enough, he turns into this grumpy, snuggly little cock monster. This isn’t the first time he’s pinned Eren to the couch and whined at him until he got his way, not that it really takes that much convincing. Marco had just barely missed this mood earlier in the afternoon, having apologetically kissed them both and mumbled regretfully about having to teach before he tore himself away for the evening.

Humming softly, Eren reaches between them and shoves his pants further down his thighs so the zipper won’t grate against Jean’s naked ass. It takes some coaxing, but he eventually gets Jean to shift back enough that he can open the condom and roll it on, easing his fingers out and smearing the remaining lube over himself with a sigh.

“Hey,” Eren murmurs, nuzzling into Jean’s ear. “You ready?”

The most he gets is a nod, but Jean leans up onto his knees and waits relatively patiently for Eren to reach down and steady his dick for him, and when he positions himself and starts rocking his hips down onto his boyfriend’s thick cock, he lets out a humid, shivering little moan right against Eren’s sensitive ear. Exhaling slowly, Eren dips his head to kiss along the stubbly angle of Jean’s jaw as the blonde works his way down, sliding his warm hands back under Jean’s baggy hoodie so he can squeeze his bony hips.

Once Jean’s settled himself into Eren’s lap with a small, breathy whimper, he sucks the brunette’s earlobe between his lips and nibbles at it, already squirming at the feeling of being so filled up. Eren moans softly, gently holding Jean down for a moment so they can both get used to it. “G-gimme a second, babe,” he mumbles, flicking his tongue out against Jean’s pulse. “You’re so damn tight...”

Jean whines again in response, tightening his grip on the shaggy hair at the base of Eren’s skull, but he doesn’t have the energy to wrestle his absurdly strong boyfriend right now. Instead, he just continues his bitey teasing all along Eren’s ear, trying to get under his skin and succeeding entirely.

“Lemme take my shirt off, at least,” Eren says, shifting his hands to paw at Jean’s ass before gently grinding up into him with a shivering sigh. “Last call on your hoodie, too, or it’s gonna end up right in the wash of shame...”

“Cold.” Jean rocks his hips down into Eren’s teasing grinds, nuzzling into the brunette’s jaw with a weak little whimper. “Eren, please, c’mon...”

“Alright, alright,” Eren chuckles, grabbing Jean’s ass once more before he slides his hands up to his narrow little waist, squeezing encouragingly. “Take what you need, baby, go ahead.”

Jean moans quietly, dragging the pierced flat of his tongue slowly up the shell of Eren’s ear, before he finally starts moving. As he rocks his hips lazily, he spreads his thighs wider, reaching between them to pull his hoodie back up over his cock. He tries to rub his aching arousal against Eren’s stomach, grumbling frustratedly when he finds his boyfriend’s wrinkled shirt instead of his warm skin, until Eren laughs and uses the minute space between them to haul his shirt off. He chucks it behind the couch and slides his palms back up Jean’s hoodie before fisting one hand in the thick material, pulling enough to keep it off Jean’s already-slick arousal.

Mumbling his thanks, Jean tilts his head back with a shivering sigh as he starts moving his hips more, sinking back onto Eren’s fat cock as much as he can before rocking forward and grinding against him. He’s surprisingly calm now that he’s stuffed full, eyes blissfully shut and lips parted, one hand braced lightly against Eren’s chest. Eren purrs quietly, letting his warm gaze drag over his boyfriend’s body as he starts gently rolling his hips up in perfect time with the blonde’s steady grinding. Jean arches and moans at the feeling, licking his dry lips.

“’S that better, babe?” Eren asks, his low voice rough with pleasure. “Feel better now you’re all filled up?” Jean nods, biting his lip and curling his fingers into Eren’s soft chest hair. “You look so good, Jean. ‘S fucking cute, watchin’ you ride me like this, makin’ all these pretty noises. Does it feel good, takin’ all of me like that?”

Gasping softly, Jean drags his nails across the nape of Eren’s neck, panting out sweet little moans as his narrow thighs start to shake. He’s starting to smear precome along Eren’s stomach, too, his cock flushed and twitching against his boyfriend’s dark skin. One of Eren’s hands slips down to squeeze his ass again, helpfully guiding him into pulling off more and sinking down further, taking him even deeper. Jean whines quietly and grinds back harder, following the brunette’s gentle urging. His hand shakes against Eren’s chest before he wraps it back around his broad shoulders and clings to him again, leaning forward to catch his lips in a slow, deep kiss.

Eren hums and kisses Jean warmly, slipping his tongue between his flushed lips, his groping hand moving to wrap lovingly around Jean’s waist so he can hold him even closer. The blonde whimpers against him, gasping between the soft part of their lips, before he presses his cool hands to Eren’s face and strokes his trembling thumbs along his cheeks.

“Mm, Jean,” Eren sighs, grinning widely as he playfully nips at Jean’s lips and squeezes his waist. “You feel so nice, baby, so warm around me. Could keep this up for hours. How’s it feel, love? ‘S this what you wanted?”

“Y-yeah,” Jean breathes, sliding his tongue along Eren’s lower lip. He squeezes around the brunette gently, earning himself a shaky moan, before he arches his hips back and grinds deep into Eren’s lap, just holding him inside himself for a moment before he picks up his lazy rhythm again. “M-mmh, f-feels good, really good.” He pauses to nuzzle their noses together with a soft whine, lacing his fingers over the back of Eren’s neck. “You’re s-so big, feels so nice...”

Eren laughs tensely, sucking Jean’s lip between his for a moment before sighing, “Careful what you say, baby. I only got so much self-control, you know, and you’re mighty tempting riding my dick like this.”

“J-just...” Jean moans quietly, brushing a few tender kisses against Eren’s cheek. “J-just another minute, th-then you can take over, yeah? I r-really like this...”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Eren purrs, running his hand slowly down Jean’s warm back. “I’m all yours, do what you want.”

“Fuck, Eren,” Jean whispers, moving to gasp right against the brunette’s ear again. “Love how you feel inside me, baby, fills me up so nice, so good...” He breathes a shivery little moan, then grabs one of Eren’s hands, squeezing gently before he presses Eren’s palm against his flat stomach, just above the base of his soaked cock. “I can f-feel all of you, s-so deep inside me, all rubbin’ against my sweet spot, god...”

Eren stares wide-eyed at his hand, fingers starting to shake against pale skin, before he swallows heavily and drops his hand to wrap around Jean’s arousal. “Careful, babe, f-fuck. You tryin’ to kill me, here?”

Whining and arching his back, Jean squeezes Eren’s wrist, rocking up into his firm grip for a moment. He pants against Eren’s ear, his breath warm, humid, then mumbles, “’K-kay, okay, c’mon—”

“You r-ready for me?” Eren asks, his voice shaking with his barely-held restraint.

When Jean nods, Eren groans and leans down to mouth wetly up the column of the blonde’s throat, dragging his tongue along his bobbing Adam’s apple, before he grabs Jean’s hips and hauls him right up off his cock. Jean whines his noisy protest, already grumbling irritably, but Eren manhandles him so he’s sprawled along the couch, coming to kneel between his spread legs with a crooked grin.

He shoves his pants down further, then bends Jean’s thighs back and pushes his hoodie up around his pale chest, groaning as he drags his rough palms down his boyfriend’s smooth stomach. “This okay?” he murmurs, bracing one foot against the floor while he lifts Jean’s hips and rubs his slick cock firmly against the blonde’s worked-open entrance. Jean arches and gasps at the feeling, then nods, reaching over his head to grip the arm of the couch.

Eren sighs slowly, then steadies himself and slides back into Jean with a low moan, leaning over him on his hands once he’s bottomed out inside him. “D-damn, Jean,” he groans, grinding up into him for a moment. “You’re so damn tight, you know that? F-feels so good around me.”

Biting his lip, Jean squirms closer, rocking his hips against Eren’s before he wraps his thighs tight around the brunette’s waist to keep him close. He pants and stares blearily up at Eren, his pretty face flushed bright. “C’mon, Eren,” he pleads shakily, squeezing enticingly and shivering at the feeling. “C’mon, I wanna come.”

“Oh, now you wanna come, huh?” Eren teases, grinning down at his flustered boyfriend. He rocks his hips forward in a slow, firm grind, earning a choked little whimper. “You want me to make you come?”

“P-please?” Jean arches and shifts one hand to squeeze Eren’s shoulder. “Yeah, w-wanna come now.”

“Mm, needy little thing, huh,” Eren laughs, settling over Jean on his forearms as he keeps up his achingly slow grinds, purposely driving the blonde crazy. “I guess I can do that for you, since you’ve been workin’ so hard lately. How d’you want it, then?” He dips to catch Jean’s lips as he finally pulls back, slow and steady when he rolls his hips back in with a low moan, and when Jean tenses up against him and gasps, he sucks teasingly on the blonde’s parted lips. “Want me to keep goin’, nice and slow?”

“G-gimme a little more,” Jean whines, wrapping his shaking arms around Eren’s neck. “J-just a little harder, f-feels good like that...”

“’Kay,” Eren breathes, obliging him perfectly. He keeps Jean’s lazy pace from before, but as requested, he thrusts in a little harder, grinding a little deeper, more than willing to give Jean exactly what he wants. It’s rare for Jean to be so extremely pliant under him, so molten, holding him close like Eren has everything he could possibly need right now. Eren smiles crookedly and nudges their noses together, using the foot braced against the floor to lend firmness to the even movements of his hips.

Jean tilts his head back against the couch and digs one hand into Eren’s messy hair, nails scratching gently as he moans for him, riding back lazily into his steady hips. He feels so warm like this, wrapped so safely around him, so thoroughly taken care of by his loving boyfriend. He wasn’t kidding about wanting to come, though, and as good and as soothing as Eren’s cock feels spreading him open, he’s starting to need more than this.

As Eren presses sweet, open-mouthed kisses against Jean’s pulse, nudging the collar of his hoodie aside to reach more warm skin, Jean squirms under him, gripping the brunette’s bicep with his free hand. “E-Eren,” he gasps, tilting his head aside to make room for him, “Eren, m-more, please?”

“Mm, you want more?” Eren nips gently at Jean’s flushed neck, careful not to leave marks so high up, before he hums and kisses up to his warm cheek. “Want me to fuck you, baby?”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Jean keens, his thighs trembling as he spreads them wider and arches up against Eren’s chest, already panting quickly. “Yeah, p-please, w-want more.”

Eren moans quietly, biting along the blonde’s sharp jaw as he shifts closer and starts rocking his hips deeper, harder, watching Jean’s eyes squeeze shut, lips parting at the feeling. “Like that?”

Jean shakes his head, biting his lip harder. “More, more...”

“God, Jean,” Eren groans, nuzzling into his cheek as he picks it up, moving yet harder, faster, trying not to overwhelm his boyfriend too much. “Fuck, you feel amazing...”

“E-Eren,” Jean whines, “P-please—”

Breathing a rumbling moan against the corner of Jean’s lips, Eren kisses him quickly before he sits up straight and holds his boyfriend’s hips tight to his lap, pressing his thumbs into the hollows of Jean’s hipbones. He licks his lips, pausing to look the flushed, writhing blonde over once more, and then he really starts moving.

Jean arches his back clear off the couch and spreads his thighs wide, reaching up to grip the arm of the couch again, and as Eren slams his cock deep into him, Jean cries out for him, his body helplessly shaking apart. This pace is so wildly different from their lazy, unrushed rhythm from before. Eren’s hips slap against his ass with every rough thrust, stuffing him full and grinding deep and so, so good, holding him and fucking him and moaning his name for him as he does. Jean writhes and bucks his hips, gasping for air, then pulls his weak knees in toward his chest, and this new angle does wonders for his already-hazy brain.

Spread open like this, Eren hits him so much deeper, and his hips tilt up at just the right angle that the blunt head of Eren’s thick cock rams right into his sweet spot, sending Jean flying far past the point of coherence.

All he can do is cry out breathlessly, the force of the brunette’s hips rocking him up the couch before his strong hands haul him back for more, completely taking control of his trembling body so he’s free to fall apart on Eren’s incredible cock.

Jean wails for Eren, his nails scrabbling for a grip on the smooth arm of the couch, his entire body twitching and sparking with pleasure, and Eren’s rough, loud moans only serve to make him even hotter.

“J-Jean, fuck,” Eren manages, doing his best to keep it together, but Jean’s tightening around him, squeezing and tensing and trembling like his orgasm’s starting to build. The blonde’s face is flushed bright, desperate, and his noisy moans are cracking, growing breathier as his spine arches harder, his toes curled tight against the pleasure. “Jean, baby, you g-gonna come for me? W-what d’you need, love?”

“E-E-Eren,” Jean whines, his thighs shifting and tensing in frustration, a frown line starting to deepen between his eyebrows. “E-Eren, p-please, n-need to come, I-I need—”

Eren groans, squeezing his eyes shut and praying for patience as he fucks Jean harder, pounding into him and yanking him back hard as he tries to get him there, and the way Jean quakes under him as he cries out betrays his growing neediness, his urgency. His cock is twitching, dripping enough thick precome that it’s starting to roll down his tensing sides, but Jean’s so far gone that he doesn’t even have the desire or the presence of mind to stroke himself off. He’s riding so close to the edge that it’s maddening, and he can’t help but squirm desperately as he claws at the couch and sobs out gasping, pleading moans.

“S-so close,” he begs, leaning his head back and spreading his thighs as wide as he can. “S-s-so close, I n-n-need—E-Eren, more, ‘m right there, baby—”

“C’mon, love,” Eren moans, and when he shifts their position, he does so as quickly as he can. He hooks his arms under Jean’s knees and leans over him on his hands again, easily bending him back, and he bites his lip and puts all the strength he has into railing his cock deep into Jean, holding out for him even though the way he’s squeezing him is insane. Even so, getting Jean off is more important right now, giving him what he needs, and he throws all of his weight into fucking Jean right through the damn couch, making sure to aim for where he knows the blonde’s sweet spot is.

Jean arches tight and gives a long, wavering cry, bucking his hips, but he’s still so fucking close, so frustrated with his stubborn, exhausted body, until he wiggles under Eren and slides his shaking knees up and over the brunette’s shoulders. He squeezes his pale thighs tight together against his boyfriend’s chest, and then reaches up for Eren, gasping his name desperately. Eren moans and wraps his arms around Jean’s thighs, their sweat-slick skin sliding together as he leans even further over him, bending Jean as far in half as he thinks his thin body can take as he rams his cock into him. He stares down into Jean’s dark, watery eyes, panting his name for him, before he gasps, “C’mon, baby, c’mon, l-let me see you come, I know you can—fuck, you f-feel so f-fucking good, lemme feel you come, baby, please—”

Pulling at Eren’s shoulders, Jean trembles under him, his noisy sounds pitching high and filling their apartment, brainless from pleasure, and as Eren talks him up, his ragged voice coaxing him higher, Jean starts to feel that maddening coil in his gut tightening further, his eyes narrowed and his nails dragging across sweat-slick skin, almost there. His hips moving fast and rough and so fucking deep, Eren keeps talking to him, telling him how pretty he is, and once he starts shaking too, just barely holding back, he moans sweet, needy ‘I love you’s over and over, lips parted around ragged gasps, and finally, finally, that’s enough.

Jean’s eyes roll shut as he tenses hard, every muscle in his body pulling impossibly tight, his breath trapped in his chest as his nails claw sharp red lines down Eren’s shoulders, but he’s coming, and he’s coming so damn hard he can’t even draw breath to scream. Over the roar in his ears, he hears Eren’s loud, whimpering moans, feels the bruising grip his boyfriend has on his shaking thighs, but Jean’s been edged so long that every sensation just drives him higher.

Eren still comes down before Jean does, and through the fog he’s vaguely aware of the brunette’s warm hands easing over his ticking muscles, his fucked-out voice whispering soothing love to him. He waits patiently for Jean to ride it out, though, and as he does, he eases Jean out of the cramped little ball he’s curled up into, gently wrapping his limp thighs around his waist again.

As he starts twitching, Jean whimpers weakly, finally remembering that he needs to breathe. He swallows heavily, collapsing back against the couch with a tiny huff.

Eren chuckles softly, leaning over Jean to drag his tongue along the line of his jaw, tasting the salt of his sweat and cleaning off a stray splatter of Jean’s own come from under his chin.

“Hey, boy,” Eren whispers, stretching up so he can brush a sweet kiss against his dry lips. “Hey, Jean, you okay? You still with me, baby?”

“Hngh.”

“Mm, good.” Eren nuzzles him warmly, doing the best he can in this position to comfort him. “I’m gonna pull out, okay?” Jean frowns irritably, wheezing up at him without opening his eyes just yet. Eren snorts, gently pushing Jean’s sweaty bangs off his forehead. “Hey now, I’m not goin’ anywhere, I promise. It’s just so we can get you cleaned up. Then I’ll carry you to bed and we can snuggle and wait for Marco to come home, yeah?”

Sniffling quietly, Jean blearily squints one eye, starting to go limp with exhaustion. He shifts slightly, then nods, earning himself a wide smile and a warm, slow kiss. When Eren pulls out, he does so carefully, soothing the blonde’s little whimper at the ache with a soft, honest apology. Eren coaxes him out of his hoodie and uses it to mop up Jean’s chest, mumbling, “Really got some distance there, huh. I’ll get the rest later.”

Somehow, Eren manages to get them both cleaned up without leaving Jean, who’s already half-asleep and doing his best dead jellyfish impression across the couch as he slowly sucks on a sweet Starburst his boyfriend had given him. Eren laughs at his floppiness when he picks him up to carry him to bed, settling them both comfortably under the blankets for the snuggles he’d promised.

“Hey, sleepy,” he murmurs, gently nudging Jean awake. “Before you drift off. You okay? Seems like you had some trouble there, was I being too rough on you?”

Jean whines quietly as he shakes his head, rolling into Eren and tucking himself under his chin. “You were really good, babe. ’S just super hard to come when I haven’t slept in four days.”

Eren chokes loudly. “Four—fuck, I should’ve just put your ass to bed, why didn’t you tell me?”

“’Cause you would’ve put me to bed ‘nstead of fuckin’ me.”

“Oh my god,” Eren wheezes, slapping a hand over his face. “Never again, you damn menace. I dunno how you’re even alive right now.”

Jean hums contently and wraps his arms around Eren’s chest, hiding a big, sleepy smile in his neck as he finally drifts off.

--6.

By and large, it seems that Jean’s restless nature is what brings the fiery urgency to his relationship with his boyfriends. Without even meaning to, he somehow whips all of them into a frenzy, and when Eren and Marco are with him, they’re all too happy to let him spur them on. The furniture only ever gets broken when Jean’s around.

Eren is especially affected by his weedy boyfriend’s hyperactive tendencies, but he’s equally as soothed by Marco’s radiating calm when they’re alone together. When Jean’s at school or visiting his parents or whatever have you, Eren and Marco usually just curl up together on the couch and watch something on Netflix while Marco does some work, if they’re not lazily making out.

Today, even though he should be relaxing at home, Jean’s at his lab dealing with some ongoing administrative crisis, and he and his sore ass are extraordinarily pissed about it. Of course his boys miss him too; it’s not like they get a lot of free days together to just hang out to begin with. The best they can do is keep an eye out for his texts, unfortunately, and hope he can come home sooner rather than later.

“Wait,” Marco says, gaping up at Eren. “He hadn’t slept in four days, and he still jumped you?”

“Yes,” Eren groans, resting his chin in his hand and drawing idle circles on Marco’s chest, comfortably sprawled atop his boyfriend on the couch with the TV playing quietly in the background.

“That sly little bastard,” Marco muses, his hands warm on Eren’s waist. “Sorry, babe. If I’d known, I would’ve warned you before I left for class. Anything after two days without sleep and he’s almost impossible to get off, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.”

“Yeah, he told me that after. I felt terrible,” Eren sighs, sticking his lower lip out. “Still do. Kid barely sleeps as it is.”

Marco smiles sympathetically, running one hand through his boyfriend’s disheveled hair. “Mm, but when he’s loopy, he’s really insatiable. How’d you manage it?”

“I plowed his ass straight through the couch. About where you’re laying, actually. It was brutal.”

“Oh.” Marco blinks, then laughs, tugging on Eren’s ear. “I guess that explains how he slept for a solid twenty hours after.” Smiling widely, Marco brings his hands to his boyfriend’s cheeks and pulls him down for a soft kiss, nuzzling him soothingly. “Don’t feel bad, darling. He can be sneaky when he wants to be. Plus, that’s probably the best he’s slept recently.”

“I guess so,” Eren huffs, sneaking another few sweet kisses. “I hope shit at school settles down for him soon.”

“I hope so too,” Marco murmurs. He smiles and runs his thumbs along Eren’s cheeks, the gentle, lingering press of their lips as loving as it is relaxing. “Hey.”

“Mm?”

“I’m serious, don’t feel bad.” Eren leans back and blinks down at his boyfriend, who curves one warm hand around the nape of his neck with a soft squeeze. “You know his head gets all wonky when he hasn’t slept. As much as he needed the rest, turning him down would’ve made him more anxious. You definitely went with the lesser of two evils, giving him what he wanted.”

Eren snorts, digging the heel of one hand into his eye. “I know, I guess...”

Marco leans up and kisses the tip of Eren’s nose, then asks, “Did you tell him you love him?”

“Yeah,” Eren laughs, trying for his own safety not to relive the memory in too much detail. “About a million times, I think.”

“Then you did good.” Marco grins brightly. “Jean’ll never admit it, but that’s all he really wants to hear. Sex helps him sleep as it is, and when he’s feeling anxious, hearing that he’s loved calms him down a lot too. He probably had his own reasons for choosing to come to you instead of just collapsing. It’s all relative, you know, and with as soundly as he slept, I bet you did a perfect job.”

Swallowing heavily, Eren drops to hide his flushed face in Marco’s neck, nodding slightly as he does. His boyfriend’s boundless encouragement has yet to stop giving him massive butterflies, especially when he didn’t even know he needed it. With a happy little hum, Marco winds his arms around Eren’s chest and squeezes him tightly, rubbing his cheek against Eren’s shaggy hair.

After a few minutes of warm, flustered snuggling, Eren resurfaces and moves to kiss Marco again, trying to wordlessly express his gratitude to his sweet, wonderful boyfriend. He’s sure Marco catches his point.

They kiss for a while longer, soft, lingering brushes of their lips as their hands wander, as slow and lazy as they care to be. Eren whispers quiet love to him between kisses, feeling his boyfriend’s lips curve into a wide smile as he returns it in droves, more than happy to share his soothing, gentle love with Eren completely.

In times like this, it’s incredibly obvious how Jean fell for Marco, and how Eren fell for him too. He’s so much softer than Jean, who’s all sarcasm and sharp edges, and who uses his presence and his physicality more than his words to express his emotions. In contrast, Marco’s all sugar and comfort and safety, warm and giving, somehow always knowing just what to say and when. He and Jean are a perfect match, beautiful opposites, and with their mutual support, Eren’s slowly allowing himself to believe that he’s a perfect fit right along with them.

As he breaks through lingering bad habits more than a decade old, leaving his insecurities and his self-deprecation behind, Eren finds that he flows between them both so damn naturally. He can match Jean’s sharp edges, and they’ve always been good at having silent, physical conversations, but he can also match Marco’s softness, his sweetness. He’s still working on the ‘knowing what to say’ part, but Marco’s always been able to read him well enough to fill in the gaps anyway. When they’re all together, it’s nothing if not blissfully comfortable, and between Jean and Marco’s perfect opposites and their patient encouragement, Eren’s finally starting to be able to relax again, to trust again, to feel safe enough to leave his healing heart in their capable hands.

They work together. All three of them.

Shit, the three of them fit together more perfectly than Eren could have ever predicted when he took the risk of accepting the invitation into their absurdly stable relationship. Even now that they’ve all settled into each other almost a year later, each happily planted for the long haul, there’s still plenty of room for them to breathe, and even better, plenty of room for them to grow together.

‘Three’s a crowd’ is bullshit. All Eren’s anxious nightmares about ‘intruding’ on a solid ten-year relationship or not fitting in or fucking something up, those ended up being bullshit too. He loves them both so much it makes him nauseous, and the fact that Jean and Marco are still batshit crazy for each other too is even more dizzyingly perfect. Knowing that their relationship is exactly as complete as it was before they brought him in has done so much to set his frantic heart at ease.

And better still, if that’s even fucking possible, somehow they’re both just as crazy about him as they are about each other, even long after the newness and the puppy infatuation had faded out. Without being asked, they’ve put so much effort into helping Eren stitch up old wounds, into helping him become the kind of person who really, honestly believes that he deserves to love, and to be loved in return.

There are still things they haven’t asked him about yet, little quirks or tics or just feelings they get sometimes that seem to lead to much darker places, but they’re patient. They’ve adapted to him without speaking, just by observing him free of suspicion or judgment. When Eren’s ready to go there, they’ll be ready to listen, but until then, he at least knows that their support and their love are completely unconditional.

Eren hadn’t realized how caught up in his emotions he’d gotten until Marco’s shifting beneath him, reaching up to run his thumbs under Eren’s wet, stinging eyes with no small measure of alarm. Shit.

“Whoa, hey,” Marco murmurs, wiping away a few more escaped tears. “Eren?”

“Dammit,” Eren mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut with a thick, lame laugh. “No, ‘s nothing, ‘m fine...”

“Are you sure?” Marco searches his face, his brow furrowed with worry. “What happened? Did I say something, or...?”

“No, nono.” Cursing softly, Eren sniffles a little before he turns to press warm, soothing kisses into one of Marco’s palms. “I’m sorry, I just, uh. My mind was wandering and I got a little carried away. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” Marco replies quickly, his reassurance somehow simultaneously gentle and firm. “I promise, it’s not stupid. Is everything okay?”

“Yeees,” Eren wheezes, pausing to scrub his hands over his face with a deep, steadying breath. “Dude, I’m telling you, it’s really dumb. I just got caught up thinkin’ about you and Jean, guess I spaced out. I’m really fine, I swear.”

After a moment, Marco gives him a little smile, running his fingers lovingly through Eren’s hair. “That’s still not dumb, love. Good things, I hope?”

“Only ever good things,” Eren breathes, catching Marco’s hands in his and twining their fingers tightly. “Just thinkin’ how, uh. How much better I’ve gotten since we all started dating. It’s nice.”

Marco’s smile widens, and he squeezes Eren’s fingers with a soft sigh, leaning up to nudge their noses together. “I’ve noticed. Jean and I both have. We’re really proud of you, you know.”

“What, you guys talkin’ about me when I’m not around?” Eren grins crookedly, stealing another quick kiss.

“Pretty frequently, yes,” Marco laughs. “Goopy, emotional stuff about how happy and in love with you we are and how cute your butt is, you know.”

“Quality conversation,” Eren snorts, unable to fight down another flustered blush as he’s consumed once more by those damn butterflies. He resists the urge to hide this time, busying himself instead with brushing slow, sweet kisses across Marco’s hands, idly rubbing his thumbs over his boyfriend’s as he gathers his composure. “I’m crazy in love with you guys too. That’s mostly what I was thinkin’ about. Call me emotional.”

“I think it’s sweet, you being moved to tears.” He tugs subtly at Eren’s hands, gesturing him closer for another few soft kisses. “Although I was a little worried at first.”

“I’m sorry,” Eren breathes warmly, resting his forehead against Marco’s as he blinks down at him. “Didn’t mean to freak you out. Crying on you totally wasn’t in the game plan for today.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Jean might tease you, though.”

Laughing quietly, Eren rolls his eyes and mumbles, “If he tries, I’ll hold his skinny ass upside down and shake him to prove my manliness.”

“Mm, hopefully he’s not still too sore from yesterday, then,” Marco chuckles. “What all did you do to him, anyway? I’m curious.”

Eren groans and drops his face back into Marco’s neck. “You sure you wanna know?”

“Boyfriend privilege says I get all the gruesome details of what I unwillingly missed,” Marco teases, retrieving one of his hands to tickle Eren’s side with a wide grin. “You know how much I like hearing about you two.”

“If you insist.” Eren leans his chin in his hand again with a hum, arching an eyebrow at his boyfriend’s excited smile. “Sorry in advance for the boner I will most likely pop talking about it.”

“You’re amongst friends.” Sighing happily, Marco rests his hands on Eren’s hips, slipping his fingers through the belt loops on the brunette’s loose jeans. “If anything, we’ll match.”

“True.” Shifting slightly to make himself comfortable, Eren purses his lips in thought before he starts. “Okay, so you left to teach when he was still like a partially-sentient blob creature in my lap, yeah?” Marco laughs and nods. “So after he griped forever about how you shouldn’t ever teach late classes again even though they’re great for your career, he started getting all handsy and squirmy. He talked me into fooling around, even though he was freakin’ half-asleep. I mean, it didn’t take much convincing, you know me.”

“Mm, and I know cranky Jean,” Marco chuckles. “It never does take much for him to get his way, as stubborn as he is.”

“Yeah. Tempting little minx. Anyway, yeah, he rode me for a while, totally refusing to take off that damn hoodie, talking all kinds of unfairly sexy shit,” Marco nods knowingly. “And when he was done with that, I rolled him over and kept fucking him. And he kept begging for more, and wiggling around being all noisy, and eventually he did the thing with his thighs—”

“Oh god,” Marco mumbles. “Where he puts them over your shoulders—”

“And fucking squeezes your life out through your dick, yes,” Eren blurts, running a hand through his hair. “It was torture, I thought I was gonna die.”

Shaking his head, Marco chuckles, “I don’t think he quite realizes what that does to us.”

“I’m sure he can guess, I was whimpering like a fucking wounded animal. Couldn’t help it. But yeah, then I made origami out of him and fucked him so hard he probably felt it in his damn teeth, and he came after I talked him up a little.” Eren sighs, closing his eyes and reliving the face Jean had made. “Just in fucking time, too, ‘cause I lost it right when he did.”

“Sounds like an adventure,” Marco hums, sighing contently as he slides his thumbs under the hem of Eren’s shirt and strokes them idly over his warm skin. “Last time he got me, he’d only gone two days without sleeping, but it was kinda similar. He wanted to snuggle and ride me for a while, torturing me with dirty talk, and by the time he gave in to my begging, I was about to lose it.”

“Oh yeah?” Eren laughs, raising an amused eyebrow. “You nail him to the bed?”

Curiously, Marco turns a rather impressive shade of red, suddenly unable to make eye contact as he fidgets. “N-no...”

Eren blinks widely and tilts his head in question, which just seems to fluster Marco further. “The... couch?”

Slapping one hand over his eyes, Marco groans miserably. “Not really...”

“I have to know,” Eren says, poking Marco firmly in the chest. “Spill, c’mon, please? Boyfriend privilege.”

Marco whimpers, still blushing like a damn tomato, before he mumbles, “He barged into my office between classes...”

Wow.

Eren bolts upright, staring down at his crumbling boyfriend with an enormous, evil grin. “Dude, you fucked his brains out at school? In your office?” Another loud whine is about the only response Marco can manage. “That’s kinky as hell!”

“Working on the same campus as him is a blessing and a curse,” Marco mutters, throwing his arm over his face. “I have no self-control against him, and he doesn’t have an ounce of shame in his entire body.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Eren muses, biting his lip against loud, obnoxious laughter. “Oh my god, Marco.” Marco whines again, kicking his feet in protest. “That’s amazing. So what happened next? Pervy teacher sex?”

Grumbling noisily, Marco chews on his answer for a long moment before he finally wheezes, “I bent him over a filing cabinet and put a hand over his mouth while I fucked him so hard his knees started giving out... and when he almost fell over, I picked him up and nailed him to the wall.”

“Yo,” Eren manages, his eyes glazing over as he imagines that. “Dude, when are your office hours?”

Marco chokes on another flustered whine, throwing his other arm over his face too for good measure. “It was way after hours for me! He was teaching some night labs. I wouldn’t do that when I’m even close to expecting students... god, I thought I was gonna die, my office smelled like sex for a week after. Never again. I love him, but the paranoia just isn’t worth it.”

“Okay, how many ‘hot for teacher’ jokes am I allowed to make before you start throwing punches?”

“You’re such a bully,” Marco wheedles, miserably peeking out from under his arms. He’s still flushed bright-ass red, too. “Please don’t tease me, it was so unethical...”

Eren shrugs, running a hand through his hair with a crooked grin. “At least it was your own office? Better than bending him over your superior’s desk or something.” Marco groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Man, you two must get into all kinds of trouble over there.”

Snorting softly, Marco raises his eyebrow up at his boyfriend and says, “To be honest, we mostly just sleep in each other’s offices, if we’re not eating together or venting.”

“And outside your offices?” Eren leers, waggling his eyebrows, and he knows even before Marco groans that he’s hit the nail on the head.

“More stories for another time, when I’m not marinating in my own shame,” he whines, poking Eren in the stomach a few times. “I can only handle so much. Have mercy.”

“You know,” Eren laughs, slowly running his hand over Marco’s warm chest, “This is the kind of shit people brag to Penthouse about. Shouldn’t you be proud or something?”

“Maybe if it wasn’t so dangerous... if we’re careless, it could mean a lot of trouble for both of us, and that’s probably the most careless we’ve ever been.”

“Makes sense.” Leaning back down onto Marco’s chest, Eren nuzzles him soothingly and kisses him until he’s stopped looking quite so guilty. “I’m sorry, I won’t tease you.”

“’S okay,” Marco hums quietly, wrapping his arms around Eren’s waist. “As terrible and immoral and probably illegal as it was, I really can’t deny that it was also insanely hot. If you couldn’t tell.”

Eren tilts his head in question, getting another sheepish flush before Marco presses his hips up, and if he’s not mistaken, that’s definitely Marco’s boner poking against the inside of Eren’s thigh. Nice. He gives Marco a wide smile, somehow resisting the urge to tease him, choosing instead to press back down against him with a clever little wiggle of his hips.

“Hey man, it’s in the past now, and you guys got away with it. Totally fair game.”

“I still have dreams about it,” Marco admits, slipping his hands into Eren’s back pockets. “It was... it was really good.”

“Sounds like it,” Eren purrs, leaning down to press a warm, suggestive kiss to Marco’s lips, flicking his tongue between them just to tease. When he rocks his hips again, shifting to rub their dicks together through their pants, Marco lets out a shivering little moan and parts his lips in invitation. Still chuckling quietly, Eren takes him up on it, resting his hands on Marco’s cheeks as he tilts his head and slips his tongue between his boyfriend’s lips with a low hum.

His hands twitching slightly, Marco adjusts his grip on Eren’s ass enough that he can pull them together more firmly, his cock already straining uncomfortably against his zipper. After another slow grind, Eren has mercy and lifts his hips so he can reach between them and unfasten Marco’s pants, grinning at the brunette’s soft sigh of relief. That sigh hitches, though, when Eren licks his lips and slides his palm along Marco’s thick cock through his underwear, careful not to touch the sensitive head just yet. He rubs his hand along the underside instead, smiling when it twitches against his palm, and Marco’s eyes shutter closed as he digs his teeth into his lip.

“Man, it must be my birthday or something,” Eren teases, dragging his tongue along Marco’s paling lip.

“Hnh?”

“Got laid yesterday, gettin’ laid today too...” Grinning obnoxiously, Eren moves to slide his hand down into Marco’s underwear too, wrapping clever fingers around hot, hard flesh with a pleased hum. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“D-dunno,” Marco chuckles, slipping his fingers under Eren’s shirt to grip his waist. “Good things come in threes, m-maybe you’ll get laid tomorrow too.”

“That’d be awesome.” Eren laughs as he sets to stroking Marco slowly, squeezing rhythmically as he does, just how Marco likes him to. “Only way it could be better would be if all three of us were involved at the same time. You know I like having my hands on both of you.”

“Feeling’s m-mutual.” Arching his back slightly, Marco squeezes Eren’s warm sides and blinks up at him, tilting his chin up in a silent plea for more kisses. Eren obliges with a happy sigh, flicking his tongue between Marco’s lips again, and this time he’s met in kind. He moans softly as Marco kisses him deeply, rocking up into Eren’s steady hand as best he can.

His own jeans are starting to cause him trouble, though, so Eren makes quick work of unfastening them with his free hand, sighing against Marco’s lips as he pulls his own heavy arousal out of his underwear with a quick, loose stroke. He shifts them again so their cocks can rub against each other with the help of his hand, earning a stuttering moan from his boyfriend.

“M-mm, Eren,” Marco breathes, tilting his head back as he shivers under him. “H-here, c-can—move your hips for me?”

“Yeah,” Eren rumbles, ducking to drag his tongue up Marco’s throat as he does, keeping them in line with his hand while he rocks his hips evenly.

“Ah, just like that, yeah,” Marco moans raggedly, arching up against his boyfriend, and the sweet friction between them has his eyes shuttering closed again.

“Damn, Marco,” Eren whispers, nipping at the angle of his jaw. He wiggles his pants down further and settles onto Marco’s chest with a low moan, his thighs spreading over his boyfriend’s lap and pressing them more firmly together. Nibbling on Marco’s ear, Eren shivers as he rocks his hips, keeping perfect time with his slowly-melting boyfriend. “W-wanna just do this?”

Marco nods lazily, his hands restlessly sliding from Eren’s shoulders to his waist to his ass, unable to decide where he wants to let them stay. He reaches a little and hooks them under Eren’s thighs, coaxing him into straddling him more firmly.

Chuckling deeply, Eren grinds into Marco’s lap as his fingers find his boyfriend’s already-dripping precome, clear drops starting to collect on his tense stomach. He slides his palm through the mess, carefully running his hand over the slick head of Marco’s cock so he can spread it around between them, and as they start to slide together more smoothly, he breathes, “Mm, guess we don’t need the lube, huh.”

If possible, Marco flushes darker, leaning up to bury his face in the crook of Eren’s neck. “F-feels good, Eren...”

Tilting his head aside, Eren moans softly when the shy brush of Marco’s lips against his pulse turns into hot, wet, lingering kisses, the brunette’s hands slipping down the curve of Eren’s spine so he can squeeze his ass firmly. He pulls at him again, strong fingers urging him to move his hips more, so he does.

With every long, steady grind, the slide of skin on skin grows slicker, and Marco rucks his shirt up safely before he loses the presence of mind to do so. Eren follows his lead, pulling his hand away just long enough to rip his shirt off over his head and toss it over the back of the couch, where it probably joins the one from yesterday. He reaches back between them then, slicking his palm with more of Marco’s precome with a low moan before he holds them together again and starts grinding harder, rocking his hips just a little faster.

Marco’s head falls back as he lets out this sweet, gasping little moan, his heels digging into the couch as he follows Eren’s rhythm. “G-god, Eren...”

“Looks so good, Marco,” Eren whispers, nudging his nose against Marco’s. “Like that?”

“Y-yeah, yeah. F-feels... r-really nice, babe.”

Eren moans raggedly, squeezing them together as much as he can. “Th-think you can come from this?”

“Mm, p-probably,” Marco sighs. “C-can you?”

With a low, raspy laugh, Eren rumbles, “Keep makin’ that face, sweetheart, you’ll make me c-come all over you.”

“Fuck...” Whimpering softly, Marco bends his knees and arches up harder, using his shaking grip to pull Eren down into his needy thrusts.

“Ngh, ‘s good,” Eren moans, resting his forehead against Marco’s flushed cheek as he slides his thumb across the head of his own cock, spreading yet more wet precome around with a shiver. He lets Marco control the rhythm, relaxing against him and arching his hips helpfully as he focuses on playing with Marco’s slick foreskin. He rubs his thumb against it, tugging it back slightly and curling his fingers along sensitive folds, licking his lips at the full-body shiver his attention wrings out of Marco.

“E-Eren,” Marco gasps, turning to press hot, breathy kisses along Eren’s temple. “K-keep—th-that, keep doing that, please?”

Eren groans softly and nods, carefully rolling Marco’s hood between two fingers. As he’s doing so, though, he suddenly remembers something Jean had mentioned about it a good while ago. He licks his dry lips, then gently pulls Marco’s foreskin back and presses the pad of his thumb just under the soft, sensitive head, and he barely has to rub his thumb there to have Marco gasping and bucking up into him. Leaning up, Eren eagerly watches Marco’s eyebrows knit as he trembles at the attention, panting freely now, his pretty eyes squeezed shut tight.

“B-babe, Eren, f-fuck—don’t stop, god, wh-when—when did he t-teach you that? Ah...”

As Marco arches and squirms into his hand, Eren keeps grinding against him, entranced by the way his boyfriend writhes under such a subtle touch, his own cock twitching against Marco’s every time his knuckles brush along his aching arousal. He’s not terribly concerned with himself, though, not when Marco’s gasping and whimpering and moaning his name in that pretty, breathless voice, each panting breath shorter and heavier than the last.

“Goddamn, M-Marco,” Eren breathes reverently, rubbing his thumb against that spot just a little more firmly, cautiously watching his boyfriend’s flushed face to make sure the pressure isn’t too much for him.

It’s perfect, though, and between the pressure and the bare roughness of Eren’s thumb, Marco’s helpless under him, every part of him shaking and tensing, his skin almost too hot to bear with this much clothing.

“I-I’m gonna come, Eren, g-gonna come—p-please, baby, please—”

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Moaning roughly, Eren ducks to brush a quick, sloppy kiss against Marco’s parted lips, his hips still rolling in search of that sweet friction even as he adjusts his hand so he can stroke Marco slightly while his thumb is still pulling increasingly-frantic moans from his trembling boyfriend. “Come for me, I got you, go on...”

Marco’s hands shoot up and clutch Eren’s sweat-slick back again, his short nails dragging slowly down over his boyfriend’s waist as he arches hard, holding on as tightly as he can while he whimpers Eren’s name over and over. Thick come coats Eren’s shifting fingers as he moans soft praises, watching Marco’s tense expression soften into gorgeous, brainless bliss as he succumbs to his orgasm. He leans his head back onto the couch with the sweetest little moan, lifting his hips and shaking, and Eren finds himself completely spellbound.

He lets up with his thumb once Marco’s lips curve into a crooked, breathless grin, pausing only to give him a few more slow strokes to finish him off.

After a long moment, Marco blinks dazedly up at Eren, his pleased grin widening so damn beautifully. Eren can’t help but smile back, unable to pull his gaze away from that incredible expression. Marco exhales slowly before he leans up enough to check between them, blinking at the thick mess pooled on his stomach. “H-hey, you came too?”

“Nope,” Eren laughs, dragging the tip of his finger slowly through Marco’s come. “That’s all you, babe.”

“Oh.” Another slow blink. “Damn.”

“Yeah. You’re messy.” Not that Eren’s complaining in the least. He sits upright, his cock still arching tense out of his boxers, and he makes sure Marco’s looking when he starts noisily sucking come off his fingers.

“O-oh, fuck, Eren,” Marco wheezes, his eyebrow twitching at the sight. He bites his lip, gripping Eren’s thighs with weak fingers. “G-god, you know what that does to me...”

“Mhm,” Eren hums, smirking around the fingers stuffed between his lips. He pulls them out slowly, holding Marco’s gaze as he teasingly licks a stray drop of come off his swollen lip. “’S why I’m doin’ it.”

“You’re a menace.” Laughing roughly, Marco takes a moment to catch his breath before he reaches over and wraps his hand right around Eren’s aching arousal. “Don’t choke,” he teases, just before he bites his lip and starts stroking his boyfriend.

“Ahh, fuck, Marco,” Eren whines, letting his head fall back. “That’s perfect.”

Humming quietly, Marco keeps it up, squeezing just hard enough and twisting his wrist over the head, managing to slide his clever thumb right through Eren’s soaked slit on every pass. Thrusting into his boyfriend’s fist, Eren shivers in his lap, and it’s not long before his heart is pounding and he’s breathing panting little whimpers, as quiet as always even as his orgasm starts building in his gut.

“Just like that, s-sweetheart,” he rumbles, making dazed eye contact as his hips rock more urgently, his movements a little jerkier, more impatient. “Just like that, ‘nd I’ll come for you...”

“’S right, Eren,” Marco murmurs, still smiling around his bitten lip as he strokes him harder. “You look good, darling, so pretty sitting in my lap. Wanna watch you come all over me...”

His dark eyes rolling closed again, Eren slams one hand against the back of the couch as he snaps his hips into Marco’s fist, and when Marco lets him take over, letting him fuck his hand, he can’t help the long, needy moan of his boyfriend’s name that escapes him. He’s coming before it’s even fully left his lips, though, curling over Marco’s hand and leaning his free hand on his strong chest as he makes an even bigger mess of the pleased brunette.

Fingers fisting in Marco’s shirt, Eren pants and shakes his way through his orgasm, his hips bucking with every thick spurt of come Marco’s fingers squeeze out of him. When he’s had enough, he quakes in his boyfriend’s lap, weak hands barely providing enough support to keep him from just collapsing.

“Wow,” Marco murmurs, gently pulling his fingers away from Eren’s cock. “And you called me messy.”

With a feeble moan, Eren cracks an eye to survey the damage, somehow finding the breath for a fucked-out, wheezy laugh.

While Marco’s come had just pooled on his flat stomach, spreading and dripping impressively over his skin, Eren’s had gotten some distance. It’s splattered up Marco’s rucked-up shirt, all the way up his chest and even on his shoulder, without a doubt more of a mess than Marco had made.

“O-oops,” he manages, shooting his boyfriend a lazy grin. “Sorry.”

“Mm, I don’t mind.” Marco smiles at him in return, letting his dripping hand rest on his come-soaked stomach. “You looked really good.”

“Thanks.” Leaning down with a groan, Eren gives his boyfriend a slow, easy kiss, their tongues sliding together for a brief moment before he pulls away again. “Gimme a sec, I’ll get you a paper towel or somethin’.”

“Much obliged.”

After they get cleaned up, they resume their lazy snuggling, content to make out until Jean finally makes it back to them.

Chapter Text

Sunday is the first really warm day they’ve had in a while, even by mid-morning. It’s a pity Eren isn’t around to enjoy it too, not until later in the afternoon, after he’s finished work and dropped by his parents’ house.

For now, Marco opens the window in their bedroom, and a lovely breeze flutters the sheer curtains, bringing with it the lilting melody of birdsong and slow street traffic. These sounds are soft, gentle, and far too quiet to shroud the cadence of Jean’s breath as his head falls back and a weak, shivering moan slips from his flushed throat.

Biting his lip, Marco gazes up at Jean with dark, lidded eyes, warm fingers curled around his boyfriend’s shaking hips as the blonde rides him slowly, still half-asleep, his hair all stuck up in cowlicks from their pillows. Jean’s hands rest behind him on Marco’s thighs, supporting him and helping him keep his even rhythm rocking down onto Marco’s cock, each lazy thrust wringing a tremulous sigh and a soft hum from him.

Jean blinks down at Marco, lips parted and wet from his tongue and his teeth, wordlessly craving more of his boyfriend’s sweet kisses.

With a wide smile, Marco slides his hands up to squeeze Jean’s narrow waist, doing his best to roll his hips up in time with the blonde’s without disturbing him too much. He can tell Jean’s nearing his limit by how shaky his thighs are and how ragged his breath is, how darkly flushed his face is, but he looks so good riding him that Marco can’t help but indulge in him.

“M-Marco...” Jean whines, a quiet plea for the brunette to take over for him. He knows Marco’s got him, that he’ll take care of him, but patience is not one of Jean’s strongest virtues even with as sleep-addled as his brains are.

Marco sits up and wraps his arms around Jean’s waist, catching his lips in a soft, easy kiss, and he smiles into it when Jean melts in his lap and slides his arms over his shoulders, relaxed and pliant and ready for Marco to roll them over. He lets himself enjoy the feeling while it lasts, dragging his knuckles up and down the smooth curve of Jean’s spine, scratching short nails through his bed-mussed hair and holding him tightly, reveling in the warm press of their loose bodies for just a moment longer.

“You’re so pretty, Jean,” Marco whispers, kissing across Jean’s pink cheek to nuzzle into his ear, his rough voice earning him a weak shiver. Jean’s arms wrap tighter around Marco’s neck in response, answering his gentle praise with a soft, breathy whimper, and Marco chuckles low in his throat and dips to bury his face in the crook of Jean’s neck. “I love the way you look like this.”

“Marco, please,” Jean murmurs. Marco hums and presses warm, languid kisses up the soft line of Jean’s neck, nudging his nose under his jaw until Jean tilts his head back for him. As Marco drags his tongue up the flushed arch of Jean’s throat, his fingers curl around the blonde’s hips and coax him into rocking against him again, moaning quietly into pale skin as he squeezes around him.

“Okay, love, hold on.” Holding Jean tight to his chest, Marco leans back and deftly rolls them over, careful not to let Jean’s head hang off the side of the bed. Pushing up onto his hands, he adjusts them together and aims a flushed, crooked grin down at his boyfriend. Jean moans softly and wraps his thighs around Marco’s waist, his weak fingers carding through mussed black hair. Once he’s settled, Marco turns and presses warm kisses to his boyfriend’s wrist, reaching up to catch his hand so he can trail his lips further, up onto Jean’s palm, along one of his slender fingers, breathing a low sigh as his eyes slide contently shut.

Shifting his weight onto his spread knees, Marco turns back to Jean as he presses his hands to the blonde’s flat stomach, long fingers splayed across his pale chest and brushing over bony ribs, and he hums appreciatively at the sight as he starts moving again.

Jean’s legs around his waist keep them close together while Marco thrusts into him, and his fingers lace over the back of Marco’s neck as he arches slightly and moans his boyfriend’s name, dark eyes fluttering shut. Marco rocks his hips slowly, keeping perfectly their steady rhythm as his warm palms map out the smooth lines of Jean’s chest, his waist, his hips, down over his thin thighs and back up again, watching the entire time with a gentle, adoring gaze. As his hands move, Jean shivers and writhes under him, lips parting around hitched moans and quiet murmurs, floating in the patient swell of Marco’s attentive loving.

“You’re gorgeous, Jean,” Marco breathes, “You know that? So pretty, love, you look so good under me.” He pauses to lick his lips, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over Jean’s perked nipples and eating up the way Jean arches into the attention even as he rocks back into Marco’s hips. “’Nd you feel amazing, baby. So hot, so tight. Feel good, love?”

“Y-yeah,” Jean sighs, wiggling his hips with a little whine as his eyes flutter open to meet Marco’s, dark and hazy with pleasure, his hands shaking as they slip to hold Marco’s strong shoulders. “M-Marco, ‘s good...”

Marco smiles and hums, leaning down over Jean so he can catch his lips again, thrusting into him a little more firmly, a little deeper, just enough to earn himself more of those cracked, beautiful moans. Shifting his weight onto his forearms, Marco rests his forehead against Jean’s and keeps this rhythm, making sweet, tender love to him as the blonde’s hands clutch his shoulders, his sides, his biceps, his fingers twitching whenever Marco hits a particularly good angle.

As they move together, Jean arches up against Marco and pants his name, and he lets his boyfriend carry them both as he whispers soft, soothing praises to him.

When they’re like this, they can go for hours. And maybe they do. Marco keeps his tempo so damn well, perfect waves of pleasure and patience, of love and tenderness, and Jean can’t help but melt under him. His eyes slide closed again, and as his tired body sinks into Marco’s sweet love, his hands fall away, dangling limp off the edge of the bed above him as they float together.

Jean’s so brainless, so loved, so content with the constant ebb and flow of Marco moving into him that he spaces out beneath him, breathing low moans of his name and relaxing further, further, further, until he’s a boneless, smiling mess under Marco. Just how Marco likes him.

Once every ounce of tension has left Jean’s body, once every muscle has relaxed and Jean’s left adrift in a sea of love and pleasure, Marco licks his lips and reaches between them, stroking Jean’s soaked arousal in time to his easy pace, and all the blonde can do is breathlessly whine his name.

Between Marco’s excellent angling and the slow, clever movements of his hand, he carries Jean gently over the edge, all messy kisses and gasping moans, his come dripping between Marco’s fingers as he trembles weakly beneath his boyfriend. The little sounds he makes and the way he feels brings Marco with him, because as molten as Jean has been, Marco is no less affected by the blonde’s gorgeous body and the perfect way he gives in to him.

As Marco comes down from the sweet rush of his orgasm, he kisses up Jean’s throat and tastes the bare salt of his sweat, humming happily as he presses his come-slick palm into the messy little pool on Jean’s lax stomach.

The ability to render Jean completely boneless this way is something Marco takes pride in, especially with as wound-up and impatient as Jean can be. He doesn’t usually stand for this kind of slow lovemaking, either, so Marco takes it where he can get it, and it definitely pays off.

He hovers over Jean for a moment longer, kissing his still-smiling lips and his flushed cheeks, until a familiar voice winds through the humid quiet.

“Wow, what happened here?”

Marco blinks up at the door with an enormous grin, his warm gaze falling on their smiling boyfriend leaned casually against the bedroom doorframe. Jean’s already reaching out for Eren, demanding his sorely-missed kisses. As Eren carelessly sheds his work shirt and comes to catch Jean’s weak hands with a soft laugh, Marco sits up and pulls out, unable to resist a small, prideful smile.

“You’re back early, yeah?” he asks, rolling out of bed to dispose of his condom while Eren bends down and obliges Jean’s needy tugging.

“Yeah,” Eren hums against Jean’s soft lips, flicking his tongue between them before he straightens up again and quirks an eyebrow at the blonde’s extreme floppiness. “My mom just needed a quick favor, and I really wanted to come home.” He turns to grin up at Marco, who sidles up beside him and wraps his bed-warm arms around Eren’s waist with a wide smile. Marco ducks to kiss him gently, his movements still comfortably lazy. “What’d you do to him?”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Marco chuckles, nuzzling their noses together. “I made him a jellyfish.”

“Wow, without even destroying the sheets?”

“Mhm.” Grinning crookedly, Marco turns Eren to face him properly and sucks teasingly at his lips, his hands tightening around his hips to drag him closer. “Nice and easy,” he whispers slowly, his voice pitched low and breathy against his boyfriend’s lips, and the effect it has on Eren is obvious. Eren rests his fingers on Marco’s arms and swallows, already leaning up for more of those intoxicating kisses. “I can teach you, if you want more ways to make a mess of him.”

Eren hums quietly and glances down at Jean’s lazy grin, biting his lip around a soft moan when the blonde, still sprawled comfortably on his back, reaches up and rubs his palm over Eren’s already-hard cock through his jeans.

“I think he likes that idea,” Jean rumbles, tugging Eren closer by his belt loop so he can paw at the fastening of his pants.

Lost in thought, Eren blinks at the sated, relaxed, come-soaked mess Marco had made of Jean, tilting his head aside so Marco can kiss down his throat with a warm sigh.

“Y-yeah, okay,” he says finally, his voice cracking a little. Marco leans up and smiles down at him, resting their foreheads together. Eren’s chewing on his lip, though, so Marco shifts his hands to cup Eren’s jaw and tilts his face up to him, thumbs sliding gently across his flushed cheeks as he searches his boyfriend’s gaze.

“Everything okay, darling?”

“Yes,” Eren assures firmly, leaning up onto his toes to catch Marco’s lips. He smiles as he kisses him soothingly, nibbling at his lower lip and tangling his fingers in messy black hair, and after a moment, Marco sighs and relaxes into him.

There are gears turning, though, and Marco can’t help but feel like Eren might still be slightly preoccupied.

The thought trickles to the backburner when Eren groans and reaches down to unfasten his pants finally, and Jean wastes no time in tugging his cock out and tilting his head back to curl his tongue around the soaked head, humming at how severely affected his boyfriend seems to be.

They take a brief moment to get Jean cleaned up, then move back onto the bed so they can take care of Eren too, pressed tight on either side of him and lavishing him in the same slow, loving affection they’d shown each other. Marco reaches down, hand slick with lube, and sets to stroking Eren’s cock firmly, easily twisting his wrist, and when Eren shivers out a quiet moan, he arches into Marco’s attention for just a moment before he turns onto his side to pull Jean into a sweet, messy kiss.

Marco snuggles up against Eren’s back and kisses along the nape of his neck, his arms now wrapped around Eren’s waist so he can stroke him with both hands, and Eren sinks eagerly into his embrace with a raspy groan as he rocks into his steady pace. Jean presses against Eren’s chest and slips his tongue between his lips, his fingers toying gently with Eren’s pierced nipples, and with their tender, patient attention, they have Eren panting and gasping between them, squirming in pleasure and slowly melting under it.

When Eren comes, he lets out the most gorgeous, wavering little whine, but rather than buck into Marco’s hands like he usually does, his weak hips shift almost aimlessly, and the subtle change does not escape Marco.

Still, he nuzzles into the sensitive nape of Eren’s neck and attentively strokes him through his entire long, shaky orgasm, listening to the pretty sounds he muffles in Jean’s messy kisses, and he keeps holding onto him long after they’ve all cleaned up and settled in for some relaxed, floppy snuggling.

Before he drifts off, Marco leans up and checks on Eren again, and he finds him already mostly asleep, a wide smile plastered across his still-flushed face.

--

The people at their local Lush store know Marco by name. All of them. He would be embarrassed if he didn’t smell so damn good all the time, and if he didn’t have the softest skin in the entire city. Totally worth it.

Now that he has a regular bath buddy, it’s even more worth it. Eren had been skeptical of the idea of fizzy pretty bath bombs at first, but he’d been convinced pretty much instantly the first time he smelled one of the damn things. Jean likes them well enough in theory, but he seriously hates baths, so he’s happy to just spectate if he has an hour to kill. He much prefers the way his boyfriends’ skin smells after they’ve soaked in fragrant, swirling sunsets for a while.

Marco comes home the next afternoon with a paper bag full of sparkly awesomeness, humming to himself as he replenishes their dwindling stash.

As cheerful as he is, and as firm and genuine as Eren’s reassurance had been, Marco can’t stop lingering on the way Eren had spaced out when he came home yesterday.

It wasn’t the fact that Eren had walked in on them; he knows Eren loves that Jean and Marco still fool around. He hasn’t exactly said as much, but Marco can tell that it’s one of the big reasons Eren’s so comfortable with them, like he hasn’t messed up anything for them or come between them or anything. Eren’s always so eager to hear stories about them, and he’s always happy to receive pictures of them messing around together, so Marco knows it’s not that.

Still, something was up with him, and Marco can’t stop replaying their brief conversation over and over in search of anything that might have upset his boyfriend. Had he been too smug? Did he accidentally leave Eren feeling intimidated or something?

Shaking his head, Marco flops onto the couch to do some grading. He resolves to ask again tonight, maybe if Eren feels like soaking in the tub with him. Just to quadruple-check.

--

“Is that a new one?” Eren asks from where he’s perched on the sink, peering at the big pink bath bomb Marco’s holding. “Can’t remember if I’ve seen it or not.”

“We haven’t used it in a while,” Marco hums, turning away from the slowly-filling tub to stand between Eren’s knees. “It’s... kind of lavender-ish? You might recognize it when you smell it.”

“Huh.” Eren blinks down at it, warmly resting his hands on Marco’s bare hips, before he grins back up at his boyfriend. “I’m not gonna get seaweed up my ass again, am I?”

“Nope, just glitter.”

Eren snorts, shrugging lazily, and he hums to himself as his thumbs rub idly over the soft lines of Marco’s hip bones.

While they’re waiting for the tub to fill, Marco turns the lumpy sphere over and over in his fingers, liberally coating them in glitter and pink dust. Jean’s in the other room with a stack of his own grading to do, having promised to check on them later.

Just like yesterday, Eren’s been resoundingly normal all day. Not a care in the world. Possibly still upbeat from being firmly snuggled for most of the warm afternoon yesterday, or maybe from his unusually lucrative day in tips at the coffee shop. Not a hint of his (admittedly brief) preoccupation.

Still, Marco is nothing if not a worrywart. He’s gotta ask. He’s more worried about Eren’s well-being than he is about being annoying with all his checking in.

Once they’ve stopped the water, stripped naked, and settled into the hot, glittery bath, Eren sighs contently and sinks into it slightly, kicking his heels up onto the edges of the tub on either side of Marco. “Yeah,” he says, swirling his fingers through the vibrant surface to stir up little sparkling whirlpools, “I think I remember this one. You smelled good for days after.”

“Getting my money’s worth,” Marco chuckles, scooping one of Eren’s feet into his lap so he can massage the sole with firm thumbs. Eren hums and relaxes further, grateful for the attention. Neither of them are terribly small dudes, so the bath is kind of a tight fit, but that just makes it easier for Marco to lavish affection on his boyfriend. Eren laughs and spreads his toes as Marco works the dull soreness out of him, reaching under the shimmery pink water to run his palms slowly up and down Marco’s calves.

“Glad I’m not that ticklish,” Eren murmurs after a while, smiling softly. “You remember the first time I tried to tickle Jean’s feet and he almost broke my nose?”

“Ooh, yeah,” Marco replies, comfortably leaning his head back against the cool tile wall. “I think I learned from your suffering to never touch Jean’s feet. Sorry.”

“Hey, as long as someone saw benefits. That was a brutal nosebleed, my mom thought I was gonna die.”

“And your dad?”

Snorting loudly, Eren shakes his head. “He’s a cranky foreign doctor, babe. He basically told me to man up.”

“Weren’t we, like, thirteen?”

“Yup. But he started telling me to man up when I was about seven, so.”

Quirking a mildly disdainful eyebrow, Marco hums and reaches for Eren’s other foot, starting in on that one next. They slip into comfortable quiet again while Marco works, Eren watching with soft eyes, idly soothing his thumbs over his boyfriend’s bony ankles. Footrubs aren’t exactly a rare luxury with Marco, but they’re still highly appreciated, seeing as Eren spends most of every day bustling around on his feet.

Once he’s done, Marco ducks to press a soft kiss to the inside of Eren’s ankle, earning a quiet chuckle. He tucks Eren’s feet under the water on either side of himself to let them soak up some soothing heat, then laces his fingers loosely in his lap, taking the opportunity to look Eren over for a while. He watches his boyfriend play with the glittery water, swirling it around and scooping up pretty pools of it in his cupped palms, the soft sounds of his splashing bouncing quietly off the cold walls of their small bathroom.

Even though Eren really looks like he’s at peace with the universe at large, Marco still sits up and curves his hands over the brunette’s bent knees, catching his wandering attention. “Hey, Eren?”

“Mhm?”

“Is everything okay?”

Eren breathes a slow sigh and smiles comfortingly, reaching over to cover Marco’s hands with his. “Yes, sweetheart. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Marco purses his lips and drags his thumbs against Eren’s soft, dark skin, then murmurs, “I just wanted to make sure.”

“You’ve asked me like four times in the last two days.” Eren pauses, squeezing their hands. “Is everything okay with you?”

Shrugging slightly, Marco sighs and peers up at Eren again, taking in his gentle, concerned gaze. “I was just wondering...”

“Marcooo,” Eren groans, sitting up and reaching to brush his knuckles down Marco’s cheek, his hand dripping trails of sweet-smelling water over them both. “C’mon, spit it out. Something’s clearly buggin’ you.”

Marco lets his head drop for a moment before he takes a deep breath and looks sheepishly at Eren. “It’s just. I dunno, when you came home yesterday and I told you about what we’d been up to, you kinda seemed... you spaced out again. Just a little.”

Blinking rapidly, Eren flicks his eyes down to the surface of the water, his brow furrowing slightly. “Oh.”

Shifting forward a little, Marco reaches over and cups Eren’s jaw. Eren looks up at him through his eyelashes, already worrying his lip. With a low sigh, Marco presses his thumb against Eren’s paling lip, gently easing it away from his teeth and soothing over it a few times before quietly asking, “Love, what’s wrong?”

He expects Eren to stall, or maybe to pull away, but instead the brunette huffs and squirms around until he’s up on his knees, tugging and rearranging them so that he can crawl over and plant himself firmly in Marco’s lap, resting his warm, pruney hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Eren starts, kissing Marco’s immediate protest off his lips before he can voice it. “There isn’t. Everything is totally okay.”

Marco whines quietly, tugging Eren further into his lap and holding him against his chest. Eren hums as he softly brushes their lips together again, before he sighs and tilts his head back to gather his thoughts.

After a long moment, Eren grumbles to himself and runs his wet hands through his hair, plastering his bangs back against his head. “Nothing’s wrong,” he repeats softly, which honestly only worries Marco more. Eren blinks at his boyfriend, watching him obviously grow more and more upset, before he leans their foreheads together. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, just... gimme a second here, okay? I’ll explain why I spaced out there, but I don’t do the whole ‘shy’ thing so good.”

His brow furrowing, Marco nods, then nuzzles their noses together gently to distract himself. He’s doing his best to give Eren the time he needs, but he can feel a thousand frantic questions bubbling up from his chest, so he bites his tongue around them and settles for fidgeting anxiously.

“Listen,” Eren murmurs, lacing his fingers over the back of Marco’s neck and pulling him in for more sweet, tenderly reassuring kisses. “I want you to teach me how to do the thing to Jean. The ‘nice and easy’ thing.”

Marco blinks a few times, clearly confused. Eren’s never shy about wanting to learn new things, not like this. Shit, Eren’s never shy about much of anything, but especially not about bedroom stuff. “Okay?”

Sighing loudly, Eren grimaces and fidgets, then finally moves to bury his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, his hands clutching his shoulders. When he speaks, it’s muffled and rapid, and it takes Marco a second to understand him. “ButIwantyoutodoittomefirst.”

“You... want me to do that to you too?” Eren nods. Marco’s still horribly confused. It’s not like he’s never topped Eren before. Not frequently, but the precedent is there. “Of course we can do that, darling,” he says, turning to press a few warm kisses to Eren’s ear as he slowly runs his hands across his back. “Uh.”

His voice uncharacteristically tiny, Eren mumbles, “I spaced out ‘cause—’cause I kinda really wanted that. Jean looked super dopey, and it looked... really nice.”

Marco raises his eyebrows, one hand sliding up to comb soothingly through Eren’s hair while the other tightens around his waist. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“’Cause.”

“Babe...”

“It’s super dumb, Marco...” Eren resists Marco’s slight jostling, but he eventually sits upright, pointedly avoiding eye contact as he traces little circles on his boyfriend’s chest. He can still feel Marco staring at him, though, so he groans and buries his face in his hands. “I dunno, I just. I top a lot.”

“So?” Eren shrugs lopsidedly. He curls back into Marco’s chest, hands still pressed over his face, and Marco takes the opportunity to squint at the wall and try to figure out what the hell is going on. He really hopes his gut instinct is wrong. “Eren,” he murmurs cautiously, resting his warm hands on his boyfriend’s waist. “Were you afraid to ask me to make love to you?”

A long moment passes before Eren gives the tiniest little nod.

As usual, Marco’s gut instinct is never wrong. A heavy weight settles into his stomach at the mere idea.

Now that he thinks about it, Eren almost never lets them spoil him. He always ends up sneakily turning things around so he’s the one giving and giving and giving, so that he’s never entirely the focus of their attention for long. For some reason, Marco had never put it together before now. God, his chest aches under that awful realization, and he has to swallow heavily to keep rising tears at bay.

“Why, love?”

“’Cause I usually top.”

“Eren...” Marco sighs and wraps Eren in a warm, tight hug, burying his face in the brunette’s hunched shoulder. “Baby, that doesn’t mean anything. Why should that mean anything? You’re allowed to have things like that too, you know. There’s no rule that says you can’t just because you top more often.” Combing his fingers though Eren’s hair again, Marco hums and drags warm kisses across whatever dark skin he can reach, nuzzling into his boyfriend until he starts relaxing somewhat. “If I’d known that’s what you wanted, I would’ve happily done it right then, love.”

Shifting them around some more, Marco nudges Eren until he’s sitting up again and pulls him into a slow, sweet kiss, taking extra care as he slides gentle hands through his boyfriend’s damp hair. “I’ll make love to you any time you want me to, darling,” he breathes, rubbing their noses together soothingly. “As many times as you want me to, for as long as you want me to. Same goes for Jean, absolutely. You’re allowed to be the focus of our attention, Eren. You’re our boyfriend, yeah? We love you. You can have anything you want from us.”

Eren swallows before he nods, his eyes still closed, but he’s starting to relax in Marco’s arms, wrapping his own around the brunette’s neck and leaning into him. Marco holds him close and presses his lips all across Eren’s flushed cheeks, trailing his palms across his shoulders until the tension there starts to loosen too.

In every other circumstance, Marco is a staunchly nonviolent person. This, however... he has no idea who it was that put this kind of shit in Eren’s head, who left him scared to ask for attention or affection or to be made love to, but Marco’s going to gut them if he ever finds out.

Blinking away more tears, Marco shakes himself back into the moment, focusing entirely on snuggling Eren until he stops hiding from him.

“I just don’t wanna be a pain,” Eren mumbles after a while, his wavering voice near-silent.

“D’you think asking us to make love to you is being a pain?” Eren shrugs sharply, and Marco knows well enough that that means ‘yes.’ His heart clenches in his chest, tight and painful, every part of him violently protesting Eren’s twisted view of himself.

“Eren, baby,” Marco chokes out, his own eyes squeezing shut. “That’s not how it is at all. God...” With a shivering exhale, Marco crushes his boyfriend to his chest again, curling his knees up behind his wiry body as much as he can, putting every ounce of himself into wrapping protectively around Eren and trying not to cry. He can’t keep his voice from shaking, though. “God, Eren, you’re never a pain. Nothing about you is a burden, darling, you’re—you mean so damn much to us, you know that? We want you to be happy, baby, more than anything else. I want you to be happy.” Eren clings tighter to Marco and buries his face in his neck, swallowing heavily, so Marco continues, “I love you so much, Eren, so much. I’ll never get tired of telling you h-how much I love you.”

The best response he gets at first is a quiet sniffle, Eren’s entire body shaking against Marco’s, hands clutching him tightly. “I love you too, Marco,” he whispers, voice thick with tears. “I just—”

“You just don’t think you deserve to be loved back,” Jean interrupts from the doorway. Marco blinks up at him, watching Jean grit his teeth against tears of his own. With how much he’d been focusing on Eren, he hadn’t noticed the blonde standing there, but it looks like he’s been there for long enough. “Is that it?”

Eren shivers, then turns to glance over his shoulder at Jean, which is more than enough of a response for him.

“Fuck, Eren,” Jean murmurs, his fingers gripping the wood of the doorframe, knuckles pale from the strain. “Wh-what the hell.”

Marco frowns at him, still curled in a tight little ball around Eren, but he knows by now how they interact. He just wishes Jean wouldn’t be quite so harsh, not right this second.

Jean strides into the bathroom and kneels next to them, unconcerned for the way the edge of the tub digs into his stomach as he reaches in and pulls Eren into his chest. He buries his face in Eren’s hair, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, and he breathes a wavering, relieved sigh when the brunette turns toward him and slides his arms around his narrow chest. Marco tightens his grip around his boyfriend’s hips and leans in to brush his lips over Eren’s arm, his shoulder, stretching to reach his flushed cheek.

“I love you,” Jean mumbles into Eren’s hair, sitting back enough that he can cup one hand under Eren’s chin and coax him into making eye contact. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” whispered between soft kisses, pressed into Eren’s skin, trailing in the wake of Jean’s fingers sliding along the angle of his jaw. “I fucking love you, and you fucking deserve every bit of it, because you love us so much it burns and you more than deserve to feel that in return.”

Eren worries his lip again as he peers up at Jean, but he lets the blonde gently tug his lip away from his teeth, much like Marco had done earlier. Jean ducks to kiss him warmly, soothingly scratching behind his ears, and Marco leans in to brush his lips over Eren’s pounding pulse, dragging his hands over every part of their boyfriend he can reach.

With a hitched sigh, Jean leans his forehead against Eren’s and nuzzles their noses together, shifting one hand down to catch one of Marco’s and lacing their fingers tightly. Marco squeezes gratefully, glancing up at him as he presses his lips to Eren’s shoulder again.

“What d’you think,” Jean breathes quietly, leaning back just enough to brush Eren’s bangs up out of his eyes. “How can we show you?”

“You don’t need to prove it to me,” Eren murmurs, his voice rough. “You don’t, I swear. I guess... I’m just still surprised that you love me. A-and a little scared.”

“Fuck’s sake, baby,” Jean rasps, “Don’t be. Please, please don’t be.” Eren blinks up at him, his bloodshot eyes almost painfully vivid beneath the tears shining in them. “Eren, can you do something for me?”

Raising his thick eyebrows, Eren nods up at him, agreeing without even asking what Jean wants. Marco swallows thickly at that and leans his chin on Eren’s shoulder, his free hand pressed to the brunette’s chest.

“Whenever you want something from us, anything, whether it’s our attention or love or the fucking ketchup, I want you to ask. Let us be here for you. And if your dumbass brain tells you you’re being a b-burden, I want you to kick it in the f-fucking teeth, because it’s wrong.” Jean kisses him again, and a few more times, before he continues, “If you want us to make love to you, just ask, baby. It’s all you have to do. All you ever h-have to do is ask, Eren.”

Marco nods, drawing Eren’s watery gaze, and adds, “Please let us show you how much you mean to us, love. And not just right now, okay? From now on. You’re important, Eren. Let us show you that.”

“F-fuck,” Eren wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “I don’t—w-what do I even say?”

“Say you get it,” Jean says, his thumb catching a tear that escapes when Eren looks up at him again. “Say you’ll try to start believing that you’re not a burden. Say whatever the fuck you want to say, angel, we’re listening to you.” More tears escape as Eren glances down into the lukewarm water, his teeth catching his lip again for a second, but he lets it go before either of his boyfriends can move to correct the habit.

“We’re not going anywhere, Eren,” Marco murmurs, nudging the brunette’s cheek to catch his eye. “We’re keeping you for as long as you’ll have us. As far as I’m concerned, you’re right where you belong, and I want you to believe that too. You don’t have to be afraid of asking for something you want, not with us.” Eren sniffs loudly, shifting one hand to curve around the nape of Marco’s neck, his trembling fingers squeezing gently. With a low sigh, Marco brings Eren closer and presses their lips together, slow and loving, before he whispers, “You could ask us to pull down the damn stars and we’d find a way for you, because you deserve to be happy. You deserve everything, Eren.”

The last of Eren’s restraint fizzles out at that, and he’s sobbing before he can even think about holding back. Jean and Marco just hold him tighter, though, breathing sweet, honest love into him as they keep him safe and warm between them, exactly where he belongs. He shivers, his hand fisting tight in Jean’s shirt, then in a ragged whisper, he manages, “Th-thank you...”

Somewhere deep in the tangled, thorny mess of pain and anxiety wrapped around Eren’s heart, a knot loosens.

--

Eren lets Marco carry him back into the bedroom after they’ve dried off, Jean leading the way and shedding his dampened clothes as he goes. He shoves the nest of blankets off the bed and kneels in the sheets, already reaching out to pull Eren into a warm, slow kiss as Marco sets him down. Jean presses up against Eren’s back and leans in to deepen the kiss while Marco settles himself onto his heels before he gently lifts the brunette into his lap again, and between their insistent affection and soothing whispers, Eren lets himself sink into them.

“Y-you don’t gotta do it right now,” he stammers after a moment, casting a sheepish glance at Marco.

Humming softly, Marco loops his arms around Eren’s waist and presses forward to kiss him too before he asks, “Do you not want to right now?”

“It’s not that...”

Jean gently tilts Eren’s face back up to him, smoothing his fingers along his cheek. “Do you want this right now, baby? Or do you want something else?” He holds his boyfriend’s gaze pointedly, silently urging him to tell them what he needs, and Eren swallows and fidgets for a moment before he gives a tiny nod.

“Y-yeah,” Eren mumbles, reaching back to grip Jean’s thigh as he clears his throat. “Yeah, I want this.”

“Okay,” Marco sighs, nuzzling into the brunette’s ear, his warm palms sliding up Eren’s sides, over his ribs, soothing him into relaxing between them. Eren sighs and loosely wraps his legs around Marco’s waist, leaning back into Jean’s chest, his eyes shyly lowered.

“Tell us what you want, Eren,” Jean murmurs, dragging soft kisses through the brunette’s messy hair. He runs his hands up Eren’s arms and onto his chest, sliding his narrow fingers through soft, dark curls before he dips into his boyfriend’s neck and drops a warm, open-mouthed kiss to his pulse. Sighing quietly, Eren tilts his head aside for Jean’s mouth, and Marco takes the opportunity to pull him into another slow kiss.

One hand still resting on Jean’s thigh, Eren sighs and tangles his free hand in Marco’s hair, parting his lips easily for the brunette’s tongue. Marco rests his hands low on Eren’s hips as he kisses him, his thumbs running idly along the sensitive joins of his thighs and earning a tiny shiver. When Jean starts sucking gently at the soft slope of his shoulder, Eren pulls back enough to take a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed with a low hum.

Smiling warmly, Marco runs his knuckles down Eren’s cheek and breathes, “You want me to show you what I was doing to Jean?” With an audible swallow, Eren blinks up at Marco, blushing at the open adoration in his boyfriend’s gaze. “Or do you wanna tell me what to do?”

“U-um.” Eren gasps softly and closes his eyes briefly, tilting his head further for Jean and his gentle teeth. “Th-the first one.”

Jean pulls off his dark hickey with a soft pop, moving to drag his tongue up the shell of Eren’s ear with a low sigh. “I think you’ll like it,” he whispers, ducking again to nibble at the brunette’s earlobe, unable to keep himself from grinning at the tiny little sound Eren makes. “But if you want something else, let us know. This is for you, baby. All you.”

Eren wets his lips with his tongue and nods vaguely, glancing shyly up at Marco, who’s still giving him that dreamy smile.

“Eren, you’re really cute, you know that?” Marco chuckles, tilting Eren up for more kisses. “Why’re you so bashful all of a sudden, hmm?”

“Not used to this,” Eren mumbles, reaching up to thread his fingers into Jean’s hair as the blonde continues teasing his ear.

“Get used to it,” Jean rumbles. He nips at Eren’s ear once more before he sits up and rests his chin on top of Eren’s head, grinning over at Marco. “’Cause you’re gonna get spoiled all the time now. I’m thinking once a week at bare minimum.” Marco flicks his gaze up to Jean and smiles, nodding slowly.

“That seems fair,” he hums, leaning to bite playfully at the tip of Eren’s nose. “With as generous as you are to us, anyway.”

“You guys are embarrassing,” Eren whines, already hilariously flustered.

“If you think that’s embarrassing, I have bad news for you,” Jean laughs, wrapping his arms around Eren’s shoulders. “You just signed up for about five hours of Marco sweet-talking you into a pile of mush.”

Blinking widely, Eren quirks an eyebrow up at the brunette, who just grins brilliantly and kisses him again without explaining. He hums and slips his tongue between Eren’s lips, kissing him warm and deep, and while he’s distracted, Jean shifts his hands to play with Eren’s nipples again.

They’re probably Jean’s favorite weak spot on his tiny boyfriend. Eren’s nipples are so sensitive, especially since he got them pierced, and it barely takes a slow brush of his fingertips to derail the brunette’s train of thought. With a content sigh, Jean rolls the hard nubs between his fingers, tugging gently on the silver barbells, and Eren arches into the attention with another squeaky little sound, his own restless hands clutching Marco’s shoulders.

As he sucks at Eren’s lower lip, Marco slides his hands around to squeeze the brunette’s ass, scooting him further into his lap at the same time. He curls his tongue with Eren’s and moans softly, drinking in his boyfriend’s shuddering exhales, before he slides one hand between them and presses his palm against Eren’s half-hard cock.

Arching into Marco’s hand, Eren wraps his thighs a little tighter around his boyfriend, his brain fuzzy and warm from all the hands on him, all the attention being showered on him between the other two. He’s never been sandwiched quite this thoroughly, but it’s surprisingly comfortable, even with as warm as it is. He slides his arms over Marco’s shoulders and moans into their kiss, feeling Jean’s approving hum rumbling against his back as the blonde rubs his thumbs over pert nubs.

When Marco curls his fingers around Eren and gives him a few slow, easy strokes, he lets the brunette lean his head back onto Jean’s shoulder with a shivering sigh, his tongue wetting his flushed lips as he wiggles between them.

It’s not long before Eren reaches between them and palms at Marco’s cock in return, already trying to wiggle out of being spoiled, but that’s not gonna fly anymore. Jean reaches down and gently grabs his wrist, bringing his hand up so he can brush his lips slowly over Eren’s knuckles. He slides the pierced flat of his tongue along the pads of Eren’s fingers, planting a wet, messy kiss to each of the tips, and Eren can’t help but shiver at the feeling, trying to turn and watch. Jean leans over his shoulder and closes his lips around the tip of Eren’s middle finger, smiling as he swirls his tongue around it, before he lets it slide out again with a small, wet sound.

“F-fuck,” Eren murmurs, unable to tear his eyes away from Jean’s crooked smirk. Jean sits up enough that he can catch Eren’s lips again without Eren having to crane his neck too much, and the brunette’s so engrossed in his boyfriend’s wet, bitey kiss that he doesn’t even notice when Jean sets his hand back on Marco’s shoulder.

Humming warmly, Marco watches them kiss and slides his thumb across the head of Eren’s cock, smearing around a tiny drop of precome. He rubs gently over the sensitive spot just beneath the head, earning a subtle twitch of Eren’s knee, before he resumes stroking him nice and slow.

Between Jean and Marco, they should be able to keep Eren sufficiently distracted, especially since they know all his weak spots by now. Their mutual determination definitely helps.

Jean pulls away from Eren’s lips with a teasing hum, flicking his tongue briefly between them when the brunette leans after him, before he smiles up at Marco. “Here,” he laughs, gently shifting Eren further into Marco’s embrace so he can roll over to the nightstand and grab the lube and some condoms.

“You okay with bottoming, love?” Marco asks quietly, gently nuzzling his nose against Eren’s.

“Y-yeah,” he replies, leaning their foreheads together. “Nice and easy?”

“Nice and easy.”

As they kiss again, Jean sidles up behind Eren again and gently tugs him back against his chest once more. Eren sighs slowly and lets his head fall comfortably back against Jean’s shoulder, earning himself another few lazy kisses. Behind him, he hears Jean fiddle with the lube as Marco shifts his own thighs apart, making room for Jean to reach down and gently rub slick fingers over Eren’s entrance. He shivers for a moment, then tries to relax, and Marco’s hand on him does wonders to help.

Jean presses slow, sweet kisses over Eren’s temple as he patiently touches him, his other arm wrapping warmly around the brunette’s chest as he works. Marco ducks to press his lips to Jean’s arm, then up to the hollow of Eren’s throat, reaching idly to grab the lube himself. He slicks his hand with it, knowing Eren prefers the easy slide, and when he starts stroking him again, Eren arches with a soft, appreciative moan.

Once again, Eren tries to shift between them, reaching behind him this time to run his fingers up Jean’s thigh and up the hard arch of his cock, and this time it’s Marco who catches his wrist. He winds his fingers between Eren’s and squeezes, brushing the ladder of their knuckles up over the slick head of Jean’s cock, then pulls their hands to his lips so he can drag warm kisses over Eren’s rough palm.

Just as Eren opens his eyes to glance blearily at Marco, Jean presses the tip of one of his fingers inside of him, and Eren loses his train of thought again. Swirling his slick thumb around the head of Eren’s cock, the slide made easier with lube and precome, Marco hums and brings his boyfriend’s hand back to his shoulder.

They both watch Eren’s face as Jean works his finger gently deeper, watching his lips part around soft, humid breaths, his cheeks flushing darker, eyes blissfully closed at the attention. He curls his weak fingers over the nape of Marco’s neck as his hips start moving in time with their hands. Marco times his strokes to that tempo, slow and lazy, and Eren shivers at the way their rhythms sync up perfectly with his own.

“Feel good, baby?” Jean asks quietly, nudging his nose against Eren’s cheek as he twists his wrist and presses his finger deeper, toward the brunette’s stomach, looking for his sweet spot. Eren twitches slightly, swallowing before he nods, his nails scratching slowly through the short hair at the nape of Marco’s neck.

Swallowing again, Eren blinks up at Marco, licking his lips and squirming in his lap. Marco just smiles, reaching out to gently run his fingers down Eren’s flushed cheek, earning a flustered little huff from his shy boyfriend.

“S-so, uh,” Eren mumbles, his rough voice cracking slightly. “L-like this?”

“Is that okay?” Marco asks, tilting his head.

“Y-yeah, yeah. And you’re gonna...?” Marco nods, his smile widening. He pauses to squeeze the head of Eren’s cock, his free hand falling to the brunette’s dark hip and rubbing soothingly. Eren leans back to peer up at Jean. “What’re you gonna do? I can—”

“I’m gonna stay right here,” Jean hums, pressing his lips to Eren’s warm cheek. As he works a second finger into the brunette, Jean brushes more slow kisses along his cheekbone, up beside his eye, against his thick eyebrow. “Not goin’ anywhere.” Eren purses his lips at him, but Jean just shoots him a crooked smile. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m serious, babe, this is about you.”

Just as Eren opens his mouth to protest, Jean sticks his tongue out and curves his fingers against Eren’s prostate, once again distracting him entirely. Eren arches and moans, eyes going unfocused for a moment, and Marco hums contently at the sight. Jean rubs a few slow circles there, nuzzling behind his ear, before he starts thrusting his fingers again.

“Ch-cheater,” Eren gasps, his eyebrows knitting as he wriggles between them, raking one hand through his bangs.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Jean teases, spreading his fingers gently.

“Eren,” Marco murmurs, catching Eren’s hazy attention again. “Relax, darling. We’ve got you.” He leans in and catches Eren’s lips again, resting his free hand on the brunette’s cheek as he does. Eren wilts beneath him, only grumbling a little. “Are you okay with letting us take care of you like this?”

“Y-yeah,” Eren sighs, nudging his nose against Marco’s. He presses his hands to Marco’s jaw, drawing him back in for more warm, easy kisses, moaning softly when Jean slides his fingers deeper and curls the tips along his sweet spot again. “I just... you know.”

“You remember all the times you’ve taken care of us?” Jean asks, still hugging Eren warmly. He rests his chin on the brunette’s shoulder easily and continues, “All the times you’ve told us not to worry about anything? ‘S your turn now. Eren sandwich.”

Eren rolls his eyes while Marco laughs and leans in to kiss Jean a few times, just a few soft brushes of their lips. “I know, I know... ‘s just habit.”

Marco sits up again, idly rubbing his palm over Eren’s slick cock. “We’ve got patience, love. Even Jean. Don’t worry about it, okay? You deserve this, at the very least.”

Even as he squirms slightly and flushes, Eren nods, then pulls Marco back down to kiss him some more. He moans raggedly when Jean gently eases a third finger into him and spreads them, his pace soothingly unfaltering. Marco sucks lightly on his bitten lips, letting Eren deepen the kiss whenever he sees fit, whenever he’s not gasping against Marco’s lips and twitching at their attention.

Humming softly, Jean brushes light kisses behind Eren’s ear and spreads his fingers apart, quietly appreciating the way Eren’s relaxing for them. His fingers move easily now, the slide eased by the lube and by how pliant the brunette is, how soothed he is by their tenderness, but Jean still takes a few moments to make sure. He curves his fingers into Eren’s prostate again and rubs firmly, earning a shivering little whine, tiny and quiet and so cute that Jean can’t help but laugh and breathe warm praises against Eren’s ear. Eren squirms, but he sinks into Jean’s chest and whispers his name between languid kisses, signaling how very okay with this he is.

Leaning away from Marco’s kisses, Eren sighs quietly and arches his spine, drawing in a deep breath before he mumbles, “O-okay, ‘s okay...”

“What d’you want, baby?” Jean murmurs, brushing Eren’s sweaty bangs away from his forehead with his free hand.

Eren sucks on his lips and squeezes his eyes shut, taking a moment to gather himself before he blinks up at Marco and wordlessly pleads with him. Marco smiles warmly, encouragingly squeezing his hip, so Eren takes another deep breath before he asks, “W-will... will you do the thing?”

Jean manages not to snort, holding back entirely for Eren’s sake, instead nuzzling into the brunette’s neck and pressing sweet kisses down the line of his shoulder. Marco’s smile widens, leaning in to brush his lips against the tip of Eren’s nose. “You want me to make love to you, Eren?”

Nodding bashfully, Eren squirms and lowers his gaze to Marco’s hand on him, swallowing heavily. Before he can curl up on himself, though, Jean rubs along his sweet spot again, offering an extremely tactical distraction from Eren’s growing flustering. Eren shivers and gasps, his hips twitching, before he leans his head back against Jean’s shoulder and mumbles, “P-please make love to me,” his voice so breathy, so quiet that his request is almost inaudible.

“Of course, darling,” Marco sighs, giving Eren a slow, loving kiss as a reward for his bravery. He takes his time sliding his tongue between Eren’s lips, pouring all of his pride and his gratefulness into him, before he pulls his hand away from Eren’s arousal and pats around for the condoms.

As he’s rolling the condom over his own slick cock, Marco aims a soft smile up at Jean, who at least has the good grace to hide his enormous, cheesy grin behind Eren’s ear. The blonde’s free arm is still wrapped tight around Eren’s chest, squeezing him tightly and holding him safe and secure, his fingers spread along Eren’s ribs and stroking gently. Closing his eyes, Jean presses a dozen firm kisses to Eren’s ear, to his cheek, until Eren turns to him, digs his fingers into messy blonde, and pulls him into a lazy, appreciative kiss. Jean purrs, eagerly pouring his love into Eren, and he whispers sweet, unembarrassed love between the minute parting of their lips.

Marco waits patiently as they kiss, slicking more lube over the condom, and a soft warmth settles into his chest watching them. He wipes his hand carelessly on the sheets, then rests his palms on Eren’s chest, idly running his fingers over every part of his boyfriends that he can reach.

Eren fits perfectly between them, without question.

When Jean gently pulls his fingers out of Eren, he bites at the brunette’s lower lip with a chuckle, then licks his lips and grins against him. “What d’you think, Eren? You comfortable?”

“Extremely,” Eren grumbles, leaning up to nip at Jean’s lips in return.

“This position’s okay on your back?” Marco asks, squeezing Eren’s sides.

“Ugh, you guys are so embarrassing,” Eren wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning his head back against Jean’s shoulder. “It’s fine, I promise.”

“Being comfortable is an important step in Marco’s process, you know,” Jean laughs, wrapping his arms around Eren’s chest again and unabashedly snuggling him. “A crucial component in how he melts your brains right out of your head.”

“Don’t think I could be more comfortable if I tried,” Eren chuckles, before he blinks up at the blonde and rests his hands on his narrow arms. “I’m fine, god.”

Marco leans in again and presses a warm kiss to the point of Eren’s chin, muttering, “If you need anything—”

“I’ll let you know,” Eren interrupts, facing him again with a crooked smile. “C’mon now.”

“If you want anything,” Jean breathes into Eren’s ear, pitching his voice purposely low just to send chills across the brunette’s skin, “Anything at all. We’ve got you, baby.”

Swallowing heavily, Eren lets his eyes flutter shut as Jean drags his tongue up his ear again and sighs warmly, before he peers up at Marco again and nods.

With one last soft kiss, Marco wraps one arm around Eren’s hips to hold him secure, then steadies himself and gently presses the head of his cock into his boyfriend.

Sure, Eren’s been under Marco before, but it’s never been quite like this. Between all their attention, all their warm, loving affection, Eren’s already shaking, and the constant soothing press of their hands and their lips and their voices only amplifies how good every touch feels on his warm skin. As Marco slowly rocks into him, his eyelids flutter briefly, but he keeps his gaze on Eren’s face as he moves. Eren wriggles slightly, less out of discomfort and more out of shyness, before he pulls Marco in for more of his tender, reassuring kisses.

Marco’s kisses match the easy pace of the rest of his body, and every part of him soothes and eases Eren’s restlessness. Jean’s tongue against the angle of his jaw deepens that feeling, already leaving him a molten mess between them by the time Marco bottoms out inside him, a perfect fit between Eren’s trembling thighs. Every brush of their lips spells out their love, their acceptance, their willingness to show Eren exactly how much he means to them, and no part of them leaves room for his usual intrusive thoughts.

Nothing about the way they hold him lets him doubt himself. Nothing about the way they kiss him and nuzzle him lets him fear them or their love. Nothing about Jean’s chest solidly supporting him and Marco’s warm body pressed so intimately against his lets Eren think about anything but the here and now, and the feeling of living in this moment with them without fear or anxiety or self-doubt is like nothing he’s ever experienced before. Eren whines into Marco’s gentle kisses and wraps his arms around his strong shoulders, his shaking thighs holding the brunette even closer, willing himself not to cry from how perfectly overwhelming their honest, obvious adoration feels on his skin.

Jean’s hands wander slowly up and down Eren’s chest, over his sides and his hips and along his thighs, pale fingers spreading across his dark skin already easing the trembling he finds there. All Eren can do is relax for them and hold them, and he already knows without a doubt that that’s all they want from him right now.

With a warm, deep hum, Marco brushes a few more sweet kisses to Eren’s lips, pulling away just enough to rest their foreheads together while Eren adjusts to him. His strong arms still looped around Eren’s hips, Marco holds him close and keeps mercifully still, and he sighs contently as he drags his loose knuckles along the inside of Jean’s thigh. Jean shifts one hand to Marco’s side, squeezing gently, appreciatively, before he leans down and presses warm, sweet kisses along the nape of Eren’s neck.

“How’s it feel, love?” Marco asks quietly, his eyes searching Eren’s bleary gaze, attentively checking for discomfort.

“’S n-nice,” Eren breathes, ducking to bury his face in Marco’s neck. “F-feels really nice.”

“Mm, me too,” Marco hums, running one warm palm soothingly across Eren’s lower back. “You feel amazing, Eren, I love having you all pressed against me like this.” Eren shivers softly and mouths along Marco’s collarbone with a raspy moan, and Marco leans his head aside for more with a low chuckle. “What d’you think, you okay for me to move?”

“D-don’t gotta ask me everything,” Eren whines, but he lets Jean gently pull him back for more lazy kisses, sighing into the blonde’s mouth and squeezing his thighs encouragingly around Marco’s hips.

“You ask us,” Jean laughs softly, pulling away to blink down into Eren’s dark, hazy eyes. “You deserve at least that much, baby, and a lot more.” Grinning widely, Jean kisses his boyfriend again, then continues, “Told you, we’re takin’ care of you today.”

Humming his agreement, Marco sighs and looks the brunette over once more, before he bites his lip softly and gently pulls his hips back a little. In a smooth, easy wave, he rocks back into Eren, grinding just enough to wring a quiet little moan out of the brunette. Before he can ask, Eren swallows and nods his approval, linking his ankles behind Marco and spreading his thighs for him.

Marco keeps that soothing, gentle pace for a few moments, easing Eren into things, before he leans back and glances down between them with a low moan.

“Looks amazing, Eren,” he moans, licking his lips. “You’re so gorgeous, you know that?” Marco pulls one hand between them so he can brush his thumb over the stretched ring of Eren’s entrance, groaning as the brunette tightens around him when he rocks into him again. He rubs his thumb there once more, then splays his fingers over the soft, dark skin of Eren’s inner thigh, squeezing gently as he moves. “And you feel incredible, baby, so tight around me...”

Eren swallows audibly and blinks at Marco through his eyelashes, curling the fingers of one hand around the back of Marco’s neck while the other falls to wrap loosely around his own aching cock. Jean sighs softly, sliding one hand down over Eren’s and squeezing.

“Can I do that for you?” Jean leans his chin on Eren’s shoulder and smiles crookedly as he asks, rubbing his thumb along Eren’s knuckles.

“Y-you don’t gotta.”

“Mm, ‘s not what I asked, pretty.” Jean bites gently at Eren’s earlobe, sucking the soft skin between his lips before he rumbles, “Can I touch you, Eren?”

Shivering again, Eren moans softly and lets his eyes slide closed, but he nods and lets his hand fall away again, reaching back and bracing his resting fingers on Jean’s knee. Jean hums his approval, then curls his fingers around still-slick flesh, giving Eren’s cock a gentle squeeze before he starts stroking him in perfect time to Marco’s slow, deep pace.

Unable to help himself, Eren leans his head back with a soft, wavering moan at the attention, his body trembling between them. Marco continues his steady thrusts, gentle and easy, just as promised, and Jean strokes him just as steadily, and Eren can’t help but arch into them and try to keep time. Marco’s thumb rubs gently along the sensitive skin of Eren’s inner thigh, and he sighs contently before he ducks and drags his tongue slowly up the exposed column of his boyfriend’s throat, moaning at the taste of Eren’s sweat. He kisses his way up to Eren’s ear and presses his lips there too, just as Jean leans his face into Eren’s neck and gently flicks his tongue across the hickey he’d left there.

Pressed between them, so completely adored and taken care of, Eren trembles and gasps, tiny noises barely bitten back filling the humid air surrounding them. Marco’s unwavering thrusts are so perfect, sliding deep into him with a teasing little grind that has soft lights flickering over Eren’s vision, and his hands are warm and strong, and Jean supports him so perfectly while he touches him and kisses across his bony shoulder to start in on another mark, and everything is perfect. They’re perfect.

He can’t quite find his words to tell them, though, between little gasps and sighing moans, so he just holds onto them, his weak hands gripping them everywhere he can. He tries to tuck Marco more between his thighs, tries to ride back onto him, slides his hand further up Jean’s thigh behind him, but before he can manage to actively contribute, Marco distracts him once more.

Nuzzling against Eren’s ear, Marco moans his name softly and squeezes his thigh, holds him closer, and the unrestrained desire in his low voice is enough to short-circuit Eren again.

“Eren, you’re so good, darling,” Marco murmurs, shifting to drag his warm lips along Eren’s cheek as he does. “I love your moans, baby, you sound so pretty when you feel good... d’you like it, Eren? D’you like how it feels when we spoil you?”

“F-fuck,” Eren whines, arching his hips with a gasp. “M-Marco...”

“You feel good, Eren,” Jean murmurs, pressing his lips to Eren’s temple. He squeezes the brunette’s cock gently, rubbing his thumb over the slick head and spreading his warm precome around gently. Eren twitches in his hand, earning a raspy chuckle and another squeeze, before he continues, “Wanna see you like this all the time, fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanna make more pretty messes of you, baby, make love to you over and over and over, see you go all boneless and melty, mm? Wanna make you feel so good, Eren, hear you moan for us. Make you feel so loved you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

Eren shudders between them, his hands gripping them tighter, and he pants out a shaky moan of Jean’s name as he wiggles between them. He’s already so damn relaxed, so molten between them and spread open for them, and he’s never been so damn vulnerable before. It’s okay, though, because he’s safe with them. Eren nudges Marco into another wet, breathless kiss and whines against him, holding him tight, and gladly giving himself over to them, trusting them completely.

Without a doubt, he knows they won’t hurt him.

Marco purrs against his lips and presses his hand to Eren’s cheek, his other arm still wrapped securely around his waist, and he murmurs sweet comforts to him as he starts pulling back just a little farther, thrusting in just a little deeper, adjusting Eren’s hips just so, and he doesn’t have to ask if he’s doing a good job.

With his hips tilted and his knees drawn up, Eren’s positioned just so that Marco’s every thrust rubs slowly past his sweet spot, and Eren’s head falls back against Jean’s shoulder as his eyes rolls closed with a wavering moan at the feeling. Jean hums and shifts to accommodate him, to let him relax and sink back into him without losing that perfect angle, and he shifts his free hand so he can drag his thumb across one of Eren’s nipples while he’s holding him. His touch is slow, even, and just as gentle as the rest, and Eren pants between them as he digs one hand into Jean’s hair, holding onto him for stability.

“Mm, Eren,” Jean breathes, dragging his teeth up the brunette’s neck and coaxing a little shiver out of him. “Eren, you’re so gorgeous...”

“You’re perfect, darling,” Marco murmurs, leaning in to press sweet kisses to Eren’s parted lips. “Perfect, perfect, perfect.”

“G-god,” Eren manages finally, his body twitching beneath them. “Fuck, y-you two, I’m gonna c-cry again...”

“D’you want us to stop?” Marco asks, sitting up so he can see Eren’s darkly-flushed face.

“No.”

Jean snorts, playfully rolling Eren’s nipple between two fingers just as he pauses his even strokes to rub pointed little circles along the sensitive spot just below the soaked head of Eren’s cock, biting his ear again as he does and earning a squeaky little noise and a buck of Eren’s hips. “’S okay if you cry, baby. We’re not judging you.”

“’S embarrassing,” Eren whines, squeezing Marco’s shoulder.

“It’s not embarrassing, sweetheart,” Marco chuckles, stroking his thumb along Eren’s cheek. “We love you, you know.”

“For as long as you’ll have us,” Jean breathes, squeezing Eren’s chest warmly, before he reaches up and tilts Eren’s chin up so he can kiss him again. “Not goin’ anywhere, Eren. We’re here to be your embarrassing, adoring boyfriends for as long as you want us to, and to show you how much we love you every chance we get.” Eren blinks up at Jean, vibrant eyes already swimming with tears, and Jean grins and nuzzles their noses together with another soft kiss. “You deserve this, baby. If you wanna cry, you can lean on us. ‘S why we’re here.”

Squeezing his eyes shut again, Eren chokes out a tiny sob and tightens his grip on his boyfriends, tugging Marco close so he can bury his face in his neck again and shake. “I-I love you,” he whimpers, his fingers trembling in Jean’s hair as the blonde kisses along his ear. “F-fuck, I love you both, I love you—”

“I love you, Eren,” Jean breathes, his voice raw and honest, and Eren can’t keep from shivering and gasping. Marco repeats the words against his neck, still moving so easily, so perfectly into him, and Eren shivers again and scrabbles to hold onto them, his panting breath wet against the hollow of Marco’s throat, but he holds them close and mumbles his thanks to them, his shaky, tear-thick love, his unconditional adoration of them, and they nuzzle into him and hold him close and let him shake apart between them.

Jean gently eases Eren out of Marco’s neck so he can wipe away his tears, kissing away sticky salt tracks and whispering love against them, while Marco wraps his arms around him and runs his hands over his back as he rocks into him, and they touch him and hold him with such undeniable acceptance that Eren’s heart pounds in his chest and a crooked, flustered smile spreads across his flushed face.

“Mm, that’s better, pretty,” Jean murmurs, rubbing his cheek against Eren’s and squeezing him gently, dropping his free hand to Marco’s flushed chest. “Love seeing you smile.”

“’M s-still cryin’, you ass,” Eren sniffles, leaning into Jean’s nuzzling regardless.

“But it’s a good kind of cry, yeah?” Marco asks, smiling down at them and biting his lip, his eyes damn near sparkling as he glances between them.

“Of c-course, god,” Eren mumbles. He runs one shaky hand down Marco’s cheek, scratching behind his boyfriend’s ear with a wet little laugh. “The hell else could it be?”

Marco shrugs lazily and turns to press warm, soothing kisses into Eren’s palm, his eyes sliding contently closed. He pulls Eren up into his lap again, wrapping him warm and secure in his arms, before he braces his knees and thrusts deeper, more firmly, just as slow and steady as he has been this whole time, and Eren jumps slightly and moans at the feeling. Jean hums against him and reaches down to tug Eren’s knees up again, back to where they’d been before he started sliding in their sweat, and as Eren shivers and leans into his chest, Jean slides his arm back around the brunette’s chest and starts stroking him again.

They put so much care into making Eren feel good between them, into holding him and touching him and whispering to him, but they’re still moving nice and easy, so carefully making love to him that Eren’s putty in their hands again, holding onto them as best he can and letting them pour their love into him.

Between their ragged voices (“—I love you, Eren, I love you so much—”) and Jean’s hands (squeezing and twisting his wrist at the head and stroking him just how he likes) and Marco’s hips (rolling into him so steadily, so perfectly, filling him up and supporting him and holding him in just the right place so all he has to do is enjoy the feeling), Eren loses track of himself and the time. He trusts them to hold him upright so he doesn’t have to, to make him feel good with the utmost of care and concern for his pleasure, to keep telling him how perfect he is in pleasure-laced murmurs and between lazy kisses, and they absolutely do.

As they carry him higher, cradled warm between them, Eren starts to squirm again, writhing bonelessly in Marco’s lap and moaning for them, and he doesn’t even notice that he’s so pliant, so relaxed that even his usually-quiet voice has slipped its restraints. Just as he had for Jean, Marco eases every ounce of tension out of Eren’s body too, and with Jean’s help they coax Eren’s gorgeous voice out of him too.

Jean watches with dark eyes as Eren arches between them and moans raggedly, eyes loosely shut, lips parted around panting breath and curved at the corners, before he grins up at Marco and they share a brief, prideful moment at the way Eren sounds between them. They keep their pace, though, easing him even higher, even louder, his voice shivering and noisy, shaped around sweet moans of their names, half-formed love and slurred praises, his back arching and his thighs spreading for Marco, tightening around him so perfectly that Marco can’t help but moan for him in return.

Holding Eren tightly as he strokes him, his fingers slipping through now-dripping precome, Jean groans quietly and buries his face in the crook of Eren’s neck as he spreads his knees and scoots forward enough to rub his own aching arousal against the brunette, unconsciously following Marco’s rhythm as he grinds against him. Eren arches between them and squeaks out an approving little whimper, before he drops one hand to Jean’s cock and flattens his palm against him, holding the blonde’s cock flush to the hot skin of his hip. This time, they let him touch, and Jean moans brokenly as he slides his slick cock into the perfect friction between Eren’s palm and his ass.

“F-fuck,” Eren groans, licking his flushed lips and rocking into Marco’s shaking thrusts. “Fuck, f-feels so g-good—”

Marco nods, his own restraint worn thin, and he slides one arm under Eren’s trembling thigh with a low moan. He pauses just long enough to lift the bend of Eren’s knee up onto his shoulder, sighing at the heat of his boyfriend’s thigh braced against his sweat-slick chest, and when he starts rolling his hips again, Eren twitches and arches, then moans Marco’s name for him, long and loud.

Jean drags his teeth along Eren’s shoulder and shakes as he rocks against him, groaning his name as he takes in the perfect contrast of Eren’s dark skin against Marco’s flushed chest. He rubs his thumb along the head of Eren’s cock, pressing slow and firm through the slit, and Eren bucks into the attention and tightens around Marco’s cock with a whimpering cry, his toes curling at the sensation.

Cursing under his breath, Marco holds Eren’s thigh against his chest and thrusts into him, unable to keep himself from snapping his hips slightly as the brunette tightens around him and squeezes him, but Eren only grows louder at the attention, throwing his head back with a whimpering moan. Marco turns his head and bites gently at the inside of Eren’s knee bent over his shoulder, dragging his tongue across sweat-slick skin to soothe him.

The way Eren’s moaning for them, so loud and so vulnerable, drives both Jean and Marco crazy, both of them moaning into his skin and watching through bleary eyes at the way their attention affects Eren. He moans both of their names for them, unconcerned for the volume of his cracked voice, his body tightening, tightening as they take him higher.

With a low groan, Marco grinds into Eren and leans his weight into him, moving deeper, better at this angle, and he somehow manages to find the breath to ask, “You gonna come, baby?”

Eren whimpers and bucks his hips, blinking up at Marco and nodding, his fingers curling around Jean’s thrusting cock. He takes a deep, struggling breath and wriggles, his stomach a slippery mess of precome dripping from Jean’s fingers. “G-gonna come s-soon, Marco—f-f-fuck, feels ‘mazing—”

“What d’you need, Eren?” Jean rumbles, licking his lips and moaning for him.

“N-nothing—J-Jean, ‘s good—”

Groaning again, Jean bites sharply at Eren’s ear and bucks up against him, before he shivers and squeezes Eren’s cock as he breathes, “I love you, Eren, fuck—”

Marco nods frantically, holding Eren tight to his lap and adding, “I love you so much, Eren, so much—”

Eren squirms between them and whines, screwing his eyes shut and gasping out whimpering moans, his body shaking hard and slick with sweat easing the slide of his skin against theirs, and it’s the sound of their moans and the adoration in their trembling voices that leaves him tense and arching, his orgasm building tight, his voice pitching higher and more desperate. Just as Jean bucks against him and chokes out a cracked, beautiful moan, as Eren’s fingers start slipping and a hot wetness slicks up his tense back, Eren lets his head fall back with a loud, breathy cry, and the tightness in his gut snaps in an overwhelming, perfect rush.

As he comes, he cries out for them, long and wavering, his body shaking apart under their touch, and he arches his hips into Jean’s still-moving hand and squeezes tight around Marco’s cock, earning himself a gasping, reverent moan of his name. Jean melts against his back and twitches into his grip as he comes with him, breathlessly moaning sweet love into his ear and clinging tight to him, stroking him through it. Marco thrusts into him, holding on as best he can before his head falls back on a choked gasp, and the twitches of his unsteady hips gives away the waves of his own orgasm. Eren notices all of this somehow, even with his own mind spinning as he rides it out, and he manages a weak, pleasured whine before he collapses between them again.

“Perfect,” Jean moans, his voice weak and his breath humid against Eren’s ear, and Eren shivers in his embrace and gasps in response.

Before he’s even finished coming down, Marco’s letting his knee slide off his shoulder so he can press against him and catch his lips in a messy, overwhelmed kiss, his hands gripping and holding Eren like an anchor, like he’s so high he’s in danger of floating away without Eren’s lips on his. Eren just moans for them, parting his lips for Marco and holding him tightly.

Marco pulls away after a moment, and Jean gently tugs Eren back for another kiss, his shaking hand carelessly smearing Eren’s come up his stomach. Marco leans his forehead against Eren’s shoulder in the meantime, kissing across the tattoos beneath his collarbone.

They hold Eren for as long as it takes him to come down, and for a long while after that, unwilling to peel themselves away from him for long enough to clean up. Eren’s not complaining, though. He just leans back into Jean and curls his weak legs around Marco, and he gladly takes in their love for as long as they lavish it upon him.

--

Once they finally get sticky enough to consider moving, Jean and Marco take turns snuggling Eren and cleaning him up, completely encouraging his boneless, blissful limpness, just as promised.

They have things to work on, of course. Neither of them had quite realized the extent of Eren’s hidden pain, of his anxiety and his fear, and there are still mysteries they haven’t solved. There’s still hurt that Eren keeps hidden away, and it’s gonna take more than sweet kisses to heal it.

They’re trying, though. Jean and Marco hold him tight between them and soothe him with love and reassurance, and they glance at each other between kisses and wordlessly swear to try for him, and between them, everything will be okay.

They’ll all be okay.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take Jean and Marco long at all to figure out that the back of Eren’s neck is insanely sensitive. In fact, Jean figured it out about five minutes into their very first time together, when Eren was kissing Marco, his hands pressed shyly to Marco’s waist. Jean had moved behind him and, on impulse, leaned in and gently rubbed his nose up the nape of Eren’s neck.

He hadn’t quite expected the hitch in Eren’s breath the feeling elicited. Ever the scientist, Jean had shifted closer and pressed his lips there, hot and slow.

Eren moaned. Muffled by Marco’s lips and answered in kind with a warm hum, Eren had shivered and moaned at that soft touch, and Jean was instantly so hard it hurt a little.

It quickly became one of their many favorite spots on Eren, especially once the brunette loosened up enough that he’d stopped holding his voice back so much.

--

Ever since he came home from class earlier this afternoon, Jean has been a downright menace. He has a literal stack of lab reports to grade and next to no time to get them all done, but that doesn’t stop him from harassing Eren every time he gets up to pour himself more coffee.

Eren’s not quite bothered enough by it to tell him to stop, especially because their couch is his current favorite song-writing spot, but if Jean keeps this shit up, Eren may actually push the couch into their bedroom. He’s trying to be well-behaved while his boyfriend works, he really is. A man has limits, though.

All damn day, Jean’s been up to no good. On his way into the kitchen, he’ll meander behind the couch and drag his short nails oh-so-lightly across the nape of Eren’s neck, quick to dodge the brunette’s grabby hands. On his way back to his desk, he’ll dip his cool fingers under the neck of Eren’s shirt, once again too quick to catch. Back to the kitchen, he’ll duck to brush his lips there, back to his desk, he’ll nose at the loose, dark hair curling over sensitive skin. Once more into the kitchen, he’ll blow a hot puff of air over exposed skin, back to his desk, he’ll flick his tongue up the soft line of Eren’s spine.

It’s making Eren seriously crazy, because those fleeting touches are simultaneously the best and worst kind of teasing.

In retaliation, every time Jean sits back at his desk, Eren’ll make some offhand comment about sprawling across Jean’s work, or about sucking his dick, or about spreading Marco across Jean’s work and sucking his dick instead while Jean watches. Even after Marco comes home from class, kisses them both, and squeaks when Eren hauls him over the back of the couch for yet more loud kisses, Jean keeps targeting Eren.

The final straw is when Eren’s just about finished working through a new verse, and Jean punctuates the lyrics with a slow, wet kiss to the now-oversensitive area, and then has the audacity to whisper a raspy I love you right against Eren’s tingling skin. Dropping his guitar onto the cushion beside him, Eren whips around and nearly flips over the couch trying to grab Jean, but the blonde’s already laughing from the kitchen.

“Marcooo,” Eren yells, hanging morosely over the back of the couch. “Jean’s being a bastard again.”

“Jean, are you done grading?” Marco calls from the shower, not bothering to hide the laugh in his tone.

“I’m like almost halfway done,” Jean groans, skirting Eren’s reaching fingers on his way back to his work.

“Uh-huh. Don’t be mean to Eren.”

Eren huffs as he reaches down to adjust his dick in his jeans so it’s not making him quite so miserable, shooting a dirty look at his menacing boyfriend as he does. Jean waggles his eyebrows and spins in his chair, moving right back into lab reports without skipping a beat.

“Jean, take a break,” Eren grumbles after a few minutes of trying to stare holes in the side of the blonde’s head. “I’m seriously gonna die if I get any harder.”

“Sorry, babe,” Jean sighs morosely, raking a hand through his messy hair. Curious about the change in his boyfriend’s previously playful demeanor, Eren slides off the couch and comes to lean against Jean’s desk, peering down at the still-towering pile. “I’m kinda really behind on these. Wanna help?”

Grabbing a paper off the stack, Eren flips through the pages, then grimaces. “Ew, no, I don’t do general chem. You’re on your own with these.”

Jean groans and rubs at his eyes under his glasses, leaning back in his chair as he does. A quick glance reveals that he’s exactly as affected as Eren, based on how the shape of his dick stands out where it’s trapped down the leg of his pants. Eren hums and drops the paper again, then bends to brush his lips sweetly against Jean’s. Once the blonde relaxes into the kiss, Eren snickers and slips him his tongue, reaching up to fist his hand tight in Jean’s hair as he fucks his tongue into his mouth, slow and hot in all the ways he knows get Jean riled up.

Just as the blonde arches into the kiss with a little whimper, melting against him, Eren pulls away and nips at his lips teasingly. “Sweet revenge,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue against Jean’s flushed lower lip and grinning widely.

“Baby,” Jean moans desperately, reaching for his boyfriend and turning his chair to face him fully. He tries to pull him down into his lap, but Eren just shakes his head and stands up straight again. “Eren—”

“What, hm?” Eren bites his lip coyly and tilts his head, smirking as he combs his hands through Jean’s hair. “You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”

“I want you so bad,” Jean breathes, squeezing Eren’s hips and staring pleadingly up at him. “Wanted you since I came home...” Grumbling loudly, Jean scoots forward and wraps his arms around his boyfriend, burying his face in his warm stomach. “This isn’t fair.”

Smiling crookedly, Eren tugs at Jean’s messy cowlicks as the blonde complains into him. “Take a break, sweetheart. Half an hour at most. I’ll be nice to you, I promise.”

Jean sighs and shakes his head, leaning back to pout up at Eren. “I’m two weeks behind on these.” He looks his boyfriend up and down with warm eyes, sliding his hands up the sides of his loose shirt with a low hum, before he lets his head fall back with a mournful groan. “I gotta get them done and entered by midnight, gonna be tight as it is... sorry I got you all riled up, couldn’t keep my hands to myself.”

“What’s got you so worked up?”

The blonde shrugs and moves a hand around to Eren’s soft stomach, scratching lightly through the trail of thick curls there. “Just woke up super horny this morning. Dunno what it is. Divine punishment for procrastinating, I guess.”

Eren hums sympathetically, running soothing fingers through Jean’s hair. He ducks down and catches his boyfriend’s lips in a warm, significantly less teasing kiss, silently forgiving him for his trouble-making. Even if he’s still got a half-chub just being within ten feet of Jean, let alone standing right between his narrow thighs.

Speaking of being half hard, Eren intends to pull away and offer to make him some food or more coffee or something, or maybe to play him his favorite motivational song, but Jean distracts him entirely by pressing his palm right against Eren’s dick through his pants and licking his lips slowly. Eren wheezes at him, canting his hips forward as his hands fall to Jean’s shoulders and fist loosely in his shirt.

“Why don’t you see if Marco’ll help you out with this? I feel bad, I really thought I’d be done with this shit sooner. ‘S why I was messing with you at all.”

Moaning softly, Eren licks his lips, Jean’s hand squeezing and rubbing against him so nicely. “What about you?”

“I gotta grade...”

“Jean, are you serious?” Marco laughs suddenly, materializing beside them fresh from his shower, arms crossed loosely over his bare chest. His boyfriends blink up at him, both of them immediately distracted by the way his damp towel barely clings to his hips. “Take a break, you nerd. You’re not gonna be able to focus if Eren and I are messing around in the other room.”

Eren nods, sliding his arms over Jean’s shoulders as he smoothly straddles him, grinning widely at the way Jean’s eyes glaze over slightly. “Besides, I changed my mind. Come fool around and I’ll help you grade, but on one condition.”

Swallowing heavily, Jean’s hands fall to Eren’s hips again, his mouth going dry at the way Eren wiggles further into his lap, the way he gazes down at him with dark, intense eyes and arches his back, thighs spread temptingly. “W-what’s that?”

“I want...” Eren pauses briefly, his eyes flicking to Jean’s endless pile of work, before he takes a deep breath and aims a crooked grin at him. “I want you to fuck me.”

Jean’s eyes widen, then roll closed as he tilts his head back with a tortured groan, and Eren takes the opportunity to lean in and mouth up the column of his throat, rocking his hips slightly.

Marco sighs slowly, slinking up behind Eren to run his fingers through shaggy hair as he quirks an eyebrow down at their flustered boyfriend. “You’ve got like five seconds to take him up on that, dude, or I’m carrying him to the bedroom to have my own way with him.”

“Fuck, okay, okay,” Jean wheezes quickly, sliding his hands around to paw at Eren’s ass with a low moan. “Jesus... Eren, do you have any idea how hot you sound?”

“You asked me to tell you when I want stuff...” Eren sits up again, comfortably leaning his head back against Marco’s bare stomach. “And honestly, this is for your own good.”

Jean growls softly and leans in to nip at Eren’s flushed lips, using his grip to pull their hips together with another ragged sound. “Damn right, I wanna hear what you want. ‘Specially when you sound that good asking for it. God, Eren...” Pausing to kiss the brunette lazily, Jean moans against Eren’s lips and rocks them together again, then reaches up without looking and yanks Marco’s towel right off his hips. Marco just chuckles quietly, idly scratching his nails through Jean’s hair.

“I’m gettin’ there,” Eren mumbles between kisses, tightening his arms around Jean’s neck. “I mean, if you want somethin’ else—”

“Oh no,” Jean interrupts, breathing a slow, shaky exhale. “No, I wanna fuck you. I wanna fuck you so bad, Eren, you have no idea.”

Marco hums warmly, tugging at messy blonde to catch his boyfriends’ attention. “Hey, why don’t we move this to the bed? More room to spread out.”

Eren tilts his head back and grins brightly up at Marco, reaching up to run his hands down the brunette’s broad chest. “I didn’t forget about you, sweetheart.”

“Mm, I didn’t think you did,” Marco replies, smiling as he leans down and catches Eren’s lips warmly, slipping his fingers under his boyfriend’s jaw as he kisses him deeply, suggestively, until Eren’s panting softly and squirming to reach him. Jean groans as he curves his hand around Eren’s cock again, palming him through his loose jeans and earning a shaky whimper. Marco sucks at his boyfriend’s lips, one hand slowly trailing down his arched chest, before he stands up again and gently coaxes Eren out of Jean’s lap. “C’mon, I have a fun idea.”

Laughing victoriously, Eren spins out from between them and darts into the bedroom, shedding his clothes at record speed before he leaps onto the bed, already fishing in the nightstand for lube and condoms.

Jean chuckles as he tosses his glasses onto his desk, standing to haul his shirt off. With a hum, Marco slides his palms along Jean’s narrow waist, then kisses him warmly and pulls them together with firm hands. Dropping his shirt, Jean sighs contently as he loops his arms around Marco’s shoulders, letting his boyfriend steer them back into the bedroom. “A fun idea, huh?” he mumbles between languid kisses, smiling widely.

“Yup. You’ll like it,” Marco replies confidently, right before he pushes Jean onto the bed beside an obviously-pleased Eren. He makes quick work of unfastening the blonde’s pants while Eren leans down and kisses him again, tugging them off as Jean whines and presses up into Eren’s lips. He watches them make out for a long moment, running his hands idly up and down Jean’s flushed chest, before Eren pulls away and crawls over to Marco with a grin.

“You gonna share this idea?” Eren asks, kneeling at the edge of the bed and pressing against the brunette warmly. “Or is it a surprise?”

Marco smiles and kisses his boyfriend tenderly, wrapping his arms around his waist as he does. “I think I can share,” he hums, nuzzling Eren softly. “How would you feel about me eating you out?”

Eren moans quietly and presses his forehead against Marco’s, resting his hands on the brunette’s strong jaw. “Definitely on board.”

“Mmkay.” Marco licks his lips and grins down at Jean, who’s pawing at Eren’s ass as he watches them. “Jean, you wanna go sit up against the headboard?”

His eyes lighting up, Jean nods enthusiastically and scrambles up the bed, shoving some of the pillows off the side so he can make himself comfortable as directed. Eren catches Marco’s drift and grins, kissing him once more before he crawls up the bed after Jean, settling on his elbows between the blonde’s thighs with a crooked smile. He spreads his own knees wide and lifts his hips so Marco can slide a pillow beneath them, getting himself comfortable before turning his attention to Jean’s cock, standing flushed and achingly hard against his pale stomach.

Wrapping his hand around Jean’s arousal, Eren quirks an eyebrow up at the blonde and strokes him slowly. “Mm, have you been hard since you got home?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Jean sighs, shifting his hips closer to Eren and reaching over to trail his fingers gently down his cheek. “It’s been terrible.”

Marco kneels on the bed behind Eren and runs his palms over his ass with an appreciative hum, spreading his cheeks apart gently. He grins up at Jean, teasing Eren with his thumbs, and teases, “I’m surprised you held out as long as you did.”

“Mm, I took it out on Eren for a few hours.”

“You’re evil, you know,” Eren grouses, rubbing his thumb between the smooth studs of Jean’s piercing. “You know what the neck thing does to me.”

“Sorry, baby,” Jean murmurs, licking his lips as he brushes Eren’s bangs off his forehead. “It was calling out to me. Couldn’t help it.”

“I was just sitting there!”

“Looking amazingly fuckable, yeah.”

Rolling his eyes, Marco leans forward until he can nuzzle behind the brunette’s ear, sucking briefly at his earlobe until Eren turns and kisses him over his shoulder. Eren keeps his hand moving over Jean’s cock as they kiss, moaning raggedly as he slowly rocks his hips back into Marco’s. Rumbling against Eren’s lips, Marco fucks his tongue into his boyfriend’s mouth and grinds right back against him, his cock hard and heavy all along Eren’s entrance, earning him a shiver and a shaky little whine.

“Mm, maybe he’s right,” Marco purrs after a long moment, grinning as he shifts closer and rolls his hips against Eren more firmly. Eren’s eyes shutter closed as his spine arches, his thighs spreading further over the sheets. “There’s something about you today. You’re extra cute or something.”

“H-havin’ a good day,” Eren stutters, licking his lips and gasping. “W-woke up on the right side of the bed.”

“Looks good on you.” Marco groans into Eren’s ear, rubbing against him once more, just for the way Eren’s head falls back and Jean’s leg twitches. He laughs softly, dragging his tongue up the shell of Eren’s ear, before he whispers, “Why don’t you suck Jean’s cock for a bit while I fuck you on my tongue, hmm?”

“Fuck,” Eren moans, biting his lip around a sharp gasp, his hips bucking back against Marco’s. “Y-yeah, please...”

Marco smiles and nuzzles him again, gently nudging him in Jean’s direction, before he slowly, messily kisses his way down Eren’s curved spine.

Jean’s already slick with precome in Eren’s shaking hand, his hair standing on end from dazedly running his hands through it as he watched his boyfriends. Seeing Marco make a sweet mess of Eren basically fried his already overworked brain, so when Eren recovers slightly and aims his dark eyes up at him, all Jean can do is whimper. Eren licks his lips as Marco makes his way down, his hips wiggling on his pillow, and when Marco’s mouth slips over the swell of his ass and he slides his tongue further, down over his entrance, Eren’s eyes go unfocused for a moment. His lips part on a ragged moan, arching into the sensation, before he blinks away the haze and leans up to wrap his lips around Jean’s soaked arousal.

Eren wastes no time sucking Jean’s cock down, his gaze never leaving the blonde’s dazed face, and the view is almost too damn much for Jean. Those eyes, the way Eren’s flushed, pretty lips look stretched around his cock, the way Marco’s face looks happily buried in Eren’s ass... Jean moans for them, slouching further so Eren can take him deeper.

As Eren bobs his head over Jean’s cock, he slips his tongue across the pierced head, moaning softly before he swallows a mouthful of thick precome. He hooks his shaky fingers around the base of Jean’s cock to keep him angled just right, where it’s easiest for Eren to move his tongue and his lips without the blonde twitching right out of his mouth. Jean buries his hands in his boyfriend’s shaggy hair and gasps as he watches him squirm between them, his mouth moving so steadily, so perfectly despite the way Marco’s nuzzling into him, lapping into him with his tongue and kissing him and petting his lower back, his ass, his sides, whatever he can get his hands on.

“F-fuck,” Jean moans, flicking his bleary gaze between his boyfriends. “Fuck, baby, that feels amazing—you’re so good at that, Eren...” He brushes Eren’s bangs out of his eyes and rocks his hips up into his even rhythm, his cock sliding along the brunette’s tongue so damn perfectly it nearly has his eyes crossing. Eren makes no move to restrain him, either, leaving Jean with free reign over his own unsteady hips. He just keeps Jean’s cock angled down between his lips, keeps hollowing his cheeks around him and curving his clever tongue around him, even as his own thighs tense and shake under Marco’s attention. “Does it feel good, babe?” Jean asks quietly, watching as Marco leans up enough to drag the flat of his tongue over Eren’s entrance, their eyes meeting briefly.

Moaning softly around his mouthful, Eren hums his approval, his intense eyes finally shuttering close as Marco grins up at Jean, then licks his lips and buries his face in Eren again, his firm hands keeping the brunette spread open for him. Jean sighs shakily, thrusting his cock lightly into his boyfriend’s mouth, and the way Eren moans again, louder this time, sends chills across Jean’s skin. Eren’s rocking his hips back against Marco, losing his rhythm over the blonde’s cock in his distraction. Jean doesn’t mind, though. He just groans and runs his hands through Eren’s hair, taking over for him.

As Jean gently fucks Eren’s mouth, he tries his best to take it easy, mostly for Eren’s sake. The brunette’s face is flushed so dark, his eyebrows drawn, his breath quick and shaky as Marco works him over, obviously pulling out all the stops with his talented mouth. Jean can hear the soft sounds Marco’s lips and tongue make, even over Eren’s quiet, muffled whimpers, so he moans and presses his cock just a little deeper between his lips.

Entirely distracted, Eren writhes between them, his hips shifting to ease the pressure on his aching cock, and he sucks Jean’s cock as best he can as the blonde moves for him, grateful for the warm hand Jean settles over the back of his neck. The touch starts out as supportive, rubbing away any tension, any strain from the angle, but Jean groans softly before he drags his nails across hypersensitive skin, and Eren can’t help the way his mouth falls open with a loud, shaky whine.

Jean’s cock bounces out, sliding wetly along Eren’s cheek, but he’s far too entranced by the gorgeous sounds Eren’s making to put it back. Now that his mouth isn’t full, they can hear perfectly all the little moans and gasps he’d muffled around Jean’s cock, too wrapped up in pleasure to bite them back now.

Leaning up slightly, Marco wipes his chin and reaches toward Jean, wordlessly requesting the lube. Given that Eren’s still rocking his hips and keening, Jean figures Marco must be fingering him now, pressing tight little circles around his sweet spot. He grins and tosses him the bottle, then slides his hands under Eren’s arms, carefully shifting them around until Eren’s kneeling between them, shaky thighs spread wide with Marco’s hand moving between them just so.

“Mm, fuck,” Jean groans, pressing up against Eren and kissing him deeply, his hands wandering over dark, sweat-slick skin as Marco slicks his fingers properly. Eren wraps his arms around Jean’s shoulders and shivers against him, and when Marco works two fingers back into him and spreads them gently, he moans Marco’s name against Jean’s lips and trembles.

Marco sits up too and nuzzles Eren’s ear, his fingers thrusting steadily into him while he rests his other hand on Jean’s narrow side and squeezes encouragingly. Eren rocks between them, eyes shut tight as he clings to Jean and kisses him.

“You look so good like this, darling,” Marco murmurs, biting gently along his boyfriend’s ear. Eren sighs in response, pulling away from Jean’s lips so he can nuzzle his cheek against Marco’s, always searching for their affection.

“You still want me inside you, Eren?” Jean rasps, licking his lips, before he slides his hands down to the brunette’s ass and squeezes. “Want me to take you nice and slow?”

“Y-yeah, fuck yeah,” Eren gasps, blinking blearily at Jean. He bites his lip and rides his hips back into Marco’s fingers, then pauses and groans raggedly as Marco presses a third finger into him, still moving slowly, gently easing him into the stretch.

“I’ve got an idea too,” Jean mumbles. He squeezes Eren again, idly rubbing his cock against the hollow of the brunette’s hip with a low moan, before he nudges their noses together and continues, “Been thinkin’ about your neck all fucking day, love. I wanna hear what kinds of noises you make when I’m kissing your neck and filling you up with my cock.”

Eren whimpers and tenses, before one hand flies down to grip the base of his cock, his fingers squeezing tightly for a moment. Jean raises his eyebrows, blinking up at Marco, before they both grin widely. “I think he likes that idea,” Marco breathes, burying his fingers deep and spreading them again, making sure Eren’s good and relaxed. “Damn, I wanna see that too.”

“F-fuck you both,” Eren whines, dropping his forehead against Jean’s shoulder as he tries to catch his breath. “When d-did you get so good at this? M-makin’ me crazy...”

“You sayin’ we didn’t make you crazy before?” Jean snickers, pressing soft kisses through Eren’s mussed hair.

“’Course you did,” the brunette grumbles. He leans up and nips at Jean’s lips, his hips moving back onto Marco’s fingers again as he growls, “You’ve always made me fuckin’ crazy. But now I j-just wanna be under you all the damn time. Always wanna get fucked by you two... ‘s all I think about anymore. Got a bottom streak a mile wide, no idea where it came from.”

Jean laughs softly, sliding his hands into Eren’s hair and pulling him into a warm, lazy kiss, more tongue than anything else. Eren melts against him and leans into his lips, clinging tightly to the blonde, and when Jean pulls away with another little kiss, Eren feels no shame in the way he chases after him in search of more.

“I think it’s a good thing,” Marco murmurs, sliding his free arm around Eren’s waist. “Balance, y’know.”

“Mhm.” Jean grins crookedly, then runs his thumbs along Eren’s flushed cheeks as he says, “God knows I love having you fuck me through the furniture, but sometimes I really wanna return the favor. Love the way you fall apart for us, baby.” Leaning in for another kiss, Jean sighs contently, and his lips are soft this time, sweet and loving, just as warm as the tight press of their bodies. “Thank you, Eren,” he whispers, nuzzling his boyfriend and kissing him again.

Eren sputters slightly, flustering between them, especially when Marco murmurs his agreement and presses his lips reverently along the slope of his shoulder.

“For what?” Eren wheezes, fidgeting under their sudden near-worshipful affection.

“For letting us spoil you,” Marco replies, nudging Eren’s cheek until he turns enough that he can kiss him as well. “For letting us make you crazy.” Another slow, easy kiss, another soft hum as Marco runs his palm lovingly up and down Eren’s chest, his fingers still gently thrusting into him. “For opening up to us.”

“God,” Eren blurts, his weak hands gripping Jean’s shoulders. “You guys can’t fucking make me cry every time I let you top. I-it’s gonna get weird.”

Jean laughs, resting his forehead against Eren’s as he grins and holds him tightly. “Just makin’ sure you know that it’s appreciated, baby.”

“I know, I know,” Eren grouses, smiling despite himself. He ducks his head and presses a few hot kisses to the crook of Jean’s neck, his hands squeezing gratefully, before he licks up to Jean’s ear and breathes, “C’mon, Jean, I want you inside me, please?”

Moaning raggedly, Jean curses under his breath and turns to nip briefly at the brunette’s pulse. He pulls away to grab a condom, and as he’s getting himself sorted, Marco hums and tilts Eren’s chin back toward him, kissing his boyfriend sweetly as he pulls his fingers out. He shifts closer and wraps his arms around Eren’s waist, hugging him tightly. Eren reaches back with an appreciative purr and combs his fingers through soft black hair.

“Mm, so where d’you want me?” Marco murmurs after a moment, glancing over to watch Jean slick the condom with lube, shamelessly rolling his hips into his own loose grip as he does.

“D-dunno,” Eren says, leaning his head contently against Marco’s. He looks at Jean too, snorting at the way his tongue’s poked out in concentration. “Jean, what’re you thinkin’?”

Pursing his lips, Jean blinks down at the bed for a moment, then reaches out for Eren. “Here, c’mere.”

Eren lets Jean arrange them, laying them out on their sides and pressing right up behind him as he lifts Eren’s thigh toward his chest and rubs his slick cock against the brunette’s entrance. As if that wasn’t enough to have Eren shivering, Jean tugs a spare pillow under their heads, and he nudges his nose against the back of Eren’s head until he has perfect access to the nape of his neck. As he rubs his cock against his boyfriend, Jean breathes a long, hot sigh against sensitive skin, moaning softly when Eren arches his back and whimpers, shivering at the promising sensation.

“How’s that, baby?” Jean rumbles, nuzzling right against Eren’s neck as he slides his hand slowly up and down the back of Eren’s bent thigh. “Think that’ll work?”

“F-fuck, you’re tryin’ to kill me,” Eren moans, tilting his head forward to give Jean more to work with. He curls back into the blonde’s chest, then reaches down and arches his hips as his fingers guide the head of his boyfriend’s cock against his entrance. “C’mon...”

Shivering slightly, Jean nods, and with Eren’s help, he manages to slowly, gently sink his thick cock inside of him. He moans against Eren’s neck, his fingers tightening under the brunette’s knee, but he somehow manages to keep his wits about him as he rocks his hips, sliding deeper with every careful movement. Eren keens quietly and presses back onto him, eyes blissfully closed as Jean fills him up, before he blinks up at Marco, who’s just watching patiently, his dark eyes hot with desire.

As Jean bottoms out with a shuddering exhale, he nuzzles into Eren, dropping soft kisses through dark, sweat-damp curls while they adjust together, and Eren moans his name shakily before he reaches his hands out for Marco.

Marco settles into his boyfriend’s embrace with a hum, gently sliding his arm under Eren’s raised knee so Jean can use his hands for other things. Eren wraps himself around Marco as best he can, rocking back into the cradle of Jean’s hips with a gasping whine, and he doesn’t have to ask for Marco to lean in and kiss him again, deep and loving and perfect.

After he’s collected himself, Jean licks his lips and leans up enough to glance at his boyfriends, silently trying to figure out the best arrangement. He ends up wiggling down a little, enough that he can still reach the nape of Eren’s neck without the brunette having to bend his neck awkwardly, and he tests out the angle by dragging his tongue across sweat-slick skin, slowly and firmly. Eren’s back arches as Jean’s tongue moves, his breath hitching in his chest, body tightening around Jean, until the blonde breathes a rough moan against cooling saliva and rocks his hips up into Eren.

“Fuck,” Jean manages, eyes squeezing shut. “God, Eren, you feel incredible.”

“J-Jean,” Eren whines, panting unevenly and clinging tightly to Marco, who soothes him with soft kisses along his brow. “Jean—”

“Like that?”

“Yes, god—” Eren swallows audibly and takes a shuddering breath, trying to get his wits about him, before he squeezes around his boyfriend again and gasps, “P-please move, Jean, please?”

“Y-yeah,” Jean mumbles, pausing just long enough to slide one arm under the brunette, around his waist. Marco hums and leans back just enough to make room, nuzzling Eren patiently. Jean drops his free hand to Eren’s hip, then down onto his ass, before he braces himself and starts moving.

As Jean pulls back slowly, Eren moans and shifts his hips, his chest pressing tighter against Marco’s, and when the blonde thrusts back in, he moans against the back of Eren’s neck, and Eren whimpers. Loudly. Marco echoes Jean’s moan and bends Eren’s knee up more, watching the face the brunette makes as Jean sets a steady rhythm.

Eren’s usually quiet in bed. Soft sighs, low moans, breathy sounds that barely make it past his teeth. Today, though, he must be feeling noisy, because every time Jean fills him up, he lets out perfect little noises, whimpers and whines and gasps unhindered by his teeth or his lips. He pants between them, leaning his head forward for Jean’s mouth, and as Jean thrusts into him and kisses his neck, he shakes, falling apart so gorgeously for them.

Marco dips to catch Eren’s lips again, fucking his tongue into his mouth and earning sweet moans for it, intoxicated by the way Eren’s body rocks against his with Jean’s firm thrusts. Eren’s still clinging to him, too, his arms around Marco’s neck keeping him close, and Marco’s more than happy to oblige him. He rests his own twitching arousal against the join of Eren’s thigh, rubbing just enough to keep himself sane as he swallows down Eren’s pretty sounds.

Moaning raggedly, Jean clutches Eren tight to his chest and moves his hips a little harder, a little deeper, and when he shifts his hips and starts searching for Eren’s sweet spot, he eases up with his mouth, settling for panting against the nape of the brunette’s neck until he’s found it. He listens attentively to Eren’s moans, muffled as they are, until Eren arches his hips back just right, then freezes.

After a brief second, Eren melts again with a loud, cracked moan, grinding back even harder, his fingers tangling in Marco’s hair as his movements grow urgent.

“There, baby? That it?” Jean murmurs, just as he snaps his hips forward at that angle, and Eren bucks back and cries out against Marco’s lips, which is more than enough of an answer for Jean. He squeezes Eren tight and thrusts into him steadily, harder than before, and he growls against the brunette before he presses his hot, wet mouth to his neck and sucks.

Eren twitches hard between them, and this time, Marco pulls away before he cries out again, so the sound echoes around them perfectly.

“Fuck!” he keens, breathy and gorgeous, his nails scratching along Marco’s skin as he writhes and arches. “Fuck, Jean, there, please baby—”

“God, Eren,” Marco rasps, his lips parting around a low groan. Jean’s moaning with every thrust, but for once, Eren’s louder, and the way he sounds sobbing their names and gasping for more is driving Marco insane. “You’re gorgeous, darling, keep making all those pretty noises for us, please?”

Squirming again, Eren bites his lip and nods vaguely, letting Marco pull back enough to look them over. He’s shaking so hard, his cock dripping and flushed against his tight stomach, thighs spread just enough that if Marco tilts his head, he can watch as Jean fucks him. Jean’s nails are digging pale crescents into Eren’s ass as he moves, struggling to keep his control as he licks and sucks dark hickeys into the soft skin under his lips. There’s no way they’ll be able to hide them, but Eren’s never cared much about that.

As he watches, Marco moans again, squeezing Eren’s thigh tightly. The sight’s too much for him, though, and he leans back in to roughly claim Eren’s lips, kissing him brainless once more. He doesn’t linger this time, instead scooting down the bed and pressing his mouth to the brunette’s chest, dragging his tongue through the salt of his sweat until he can suck one of Eren’s pierced nipples between his lips.

His chest arching hard, Eren cries out at the feeling, stuttering Marco’s name as he tightens perfectly around Jean’s cock. The blonde moans his name raggedly, pausing to grind his cock deep, rubbing his piercing against Eren’s sweet spot, before he picks up his pace again.

It seems Eren’s patience has run out, though, because as Marco flicks the tip of his tongue over his nipple, and as Jean drags his teeth up his neck, Eren lets out a sweet, whimpering cry, then shakily pleads, “J-Jean, Jean, please—harder, baby, please? H-harder—”

“Want me to fuck you harder, love?” Jean groans, splaying his fingers over the underside of Eren’s thigh. “Want more?”

“Fuck, come on—”

Jean growls again, shifting his hand to grip Eren’s hip tightly, and just as Marco worries the brunette’s nipple gently between his teeth, Jean snaps his hips harder, and Eren arches and tenses, then bucks his hips and moans louder, wordlessly approving and begging for more. Jean sinks his teeth deep into the crook of Eren’s neck and speeds up, unable to help himself against the way Eren’s tightening around him, against the way he sounds right now, until he’s pounding his cock deep into his squirming boyfriend and struggling to keep it together.

Eren’s beside himself, with Jean biting his neck and spreading him open in the best ways, with Marco squeezing and pinching his nipples as he mouths his way further down his twitching stomach. Eren buries his trembling hands in Marco’s hair, wriggling around until his thighs are slung over Marco’s shoulders, earning a heated praise buried in the soft curls beneath his navel.

“M-Marco—” Eren stammers, somehow managed to focus his bleary eyes on his boyfriend’s mussed hair moving ever lower. “Marco, y-you—”

Marco moans against the arch of Eren’s hip bone, reaching down to wrap a hand around his own neglected arousal as he glances back up at his gasping boyfriend. He licks his lips, staring intensely, before he mouths even lower, down beside Eren’s aching cock. As he drags his tongue down, so close, he stares up at Eren, and then he seals his lips over the hot skin right beside of the base of his cock. He sucks a dark, possessive hickey there as he strokes himself roughly, and Eren watches the whole time, barely keeping his head as Jean drives his cock deep inside of him and gasps his name for him.

Once he pulls off the mark, Marco laves his tongue over it, and he makes sure Eren’s still watching when he rumbles, “Ours.”

Then he leans up and curves his tongue around the heavy head of Eren’s cock with a moan, drawing him in and sucking him down in time to Jean’s frantic, pounding thrusts, and Eren squirms and wails, louder than they’ve ever heard him, his hands tight in Marco’s hair and his body shaking apart, his orgasm building hot and fast and so good, nearly blinding.

And then Jean moans desperately, and his panting breath forms the same word—“Ours.” And then he bites hard again, and he rams his hips into Eren, and Marco swallows, and there’s nothing Eren can do to stop it.

Neither of them have ever heard Eren scream for them before.

But his back is arched so tight, and his hips are bucking back onto Jean’s cock, and he’s screaming his pleasure as he comes down Marco’s throat, his body tense and his voice echoing, eyes shut tight, completely at their mercy as white-hot stars explode behind his eyelids and his ears ring and his brain screeches to a complete halt.

Jean cries out against him and slams his cock deep into his tight, tight heat, clinging and riding out his own high as Marco swallows everything Eren has for him with a rough moan. The feeling has Eren twitching and keening, his voice cracked and breathy and squeaking out brainless, half-formed praises until Marco pulls off of him and gasps. The bed shifts as Marco scrambles back up beside them, his fist moving frantically over his sloppy arousal, until he stutters out a loud, blissful moan and comes hard, splattering wet and messy up Eren’s chest, his collarbones, onto his throat. He leans over his boyfriends as he strokes himself through it, resting his forehead on Eren’s shoulder, and his hips still twitch into his grip even as he slows down again.

As he starts coming down, Jean has the sweet mercy to leave Eren’s neck alone, instead holding the brunette tight to his chest and burying his face in his sweat-damp hair. Eren’s still trembling, still twitching from the intensity of his orgasm, his tense muscles ticking as they slowly start relaxing. Jean leans up enough to nudge Marco into a lazy kiss, both of them moaning into each other.

Marco sits up carefully and lets out a long sigh, reaching back to the nightstand to grab tissues so he can clean his come off of his hand and Eren’s skin, and as he does, he settles in beside him again and kisses his parted lips gently.

Moaning weakly, Eren leans into Marco’s kisses, reaching back with one hand to grip Jean’s narrow hip like an anchor. Jean purrs, then cautiously pulls out, breathing sweet love into Eren’s ear as he does.

“F-fuck,” Eren manages finally, his eyes fluttering open and struggling to focus again. “Goddamn...”

“Welcome back, noisy,” Marco teases warmly, turning to toss the tissues onto the nightstand before he snuggles up against Eren and tangles their legs together.

“God... th-that was amazing,” Eren wheezes. He runs his hands down his face roughly, still trying to catch his scattered breath.

With a laugh, Jean rolls away just long enough to tie off the condom and drop it lazily off the side of the bed. He wraps himself back around Eren then, slipping his arms around him, taking care not to touch the slowly-darkening marks all up and down the back of his boyfriend’s neck. “You seemed like you were enjoying yourself,” Jean says, resting his chin on Eren’s shoulder with a sated grin. “Never heard you make noise like that before.”

Groaning loudly, Eren drops his head back against Jean’s shoulder. “F-fucking incredible.”

“I guess neck stuff is a winner,” Marco chuckles, shifting one hand to rub gently along Jean’s side. “Hope you won’t be too sore, though.”

“I don’t even care if I am.” Eren moans softly, then aims a crooked grin at Marco, slipping his arm over the brunette’s waist. “So fucking worth it.”

Jean hums, idly rubbing his cheek against Eren’s as he asks, “So was it the biting, the fucking, the blowjob, or the word that made you come like that?”

“What is this, Clue?” Eren grumbles again, flushing dark as he fidgets for a moment. “A-all of it...”

“Yeah?”

“... But mostly the word,” Eren admits quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.

Marco smiles, leaning in to kiss his shy boyfriend warmly, before he says, “It’s true, you know. For as long as you wanna be ours.”

With a quiet whine, Eren ducks to bury his face in Marco’s neck, hiding his embarrassment. “You guys gotta stop making me cry, c’mon...”

“You really want us to stop?” Jean murmurs, running his hands slowly up and down Eren’s stomach, trying to soothe him into coming back out of hiding.

“... No.”

Jean and Marco grin at each other, and as they aggressively cuddle Eren between them, they kiss every part of him they can reach and interrupt his squawking with cheerful affirmations of love, partially because it makes Eren squirm and blush, but mostly because they mean every ounce of it, with every ounce of them.

Chapter Text

Marco’s theory is that the universe is conspiring against him, between the unseasonal chilly rain and the apparent liberal application of Murphy’s Law to his day. From the sound of things, Jean’s tempted to agree with him.

Leaning back into the couch, Jean taps out a few quick sympathy texts, his warm laptop resting on his crossed legs. The door opens behind him just as he finishes the last one, and Eren wastes no time in confirming the shit weather.

“Christ, it’s like one single degree outside,” he grumbles, kicking his shoes off by the door. “It’s June.”

Jean tilts his head back to blink at him over his glasses, grimacing when Eren gives him a sarcastic spin, showing off the results of trudging home from work in the downpour. Eren unzips his hoodie and shuffles into the kitchen to hang it over the back of a chair before he comes to collapse onto the couch next to Jean with a huff.

“The world has it out for Marco, apparently,” Jean sighs, reaching over to wrap his arm around the brunette’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I heard.” Scooting closer, Eren rests his head on Jean’s shoulder, blinking down at the half-finished work open on Jean’s screen. “Shit, Marco’s the last person the world should be out for. He’s like sunshine incarnate.” Jean hums his agreement, pressing a few soft kisses into Eren’s cold hair. “When’s he coming home?”

“After his afternoon class,” Jean replies, pulling up Marco’s texts to let Eren glance at them. “Couple hours from now.”

“Huh.” Eren chews idly on his thumbnail for a moment as he looks at the texts, before he stretches and groans. “We’ll have to be extra nice to him tonight.”

Jean nods, running his fingers through Eren’s shaggy hair. “Any ideas?”

Humming quietly, Eren shifts closer, his still-cool fingers fiddling with a fold in Jean’s sleep pants. “Did he mention wanting to do anything in particular?”

“Nope. He’s probably craving affection, though. Doubt he’ll want to go anywhere.”

Eren purses his lips in thought for a while, vacantly watching as Jean loses interest in his homework and takes to surfing the internet instead. Jean’s fingers scratch gently behind Eren’s ear while he scrolls, and they sit quietly as an idea starts forming in Eren’s mind.

He peers up at Jean and asks, “D’you think he wants a certain kind of affection?”

Jean blinks down at Eren, then shrugs. “You know him. He gets snuggly when he’s had a rough day. What’re you thinking?”

“I dunno,” Eren mumbles, lowering his gaze to where he’s tracing the pattern on Jean’s pants. He sucks on his lip for a minute before Jean jostles him lightly, encouraging him to continue. “I mean, there’s always Marco sandwich, but if he just wants to lay around and relax, I wanna let him do that.”

When Jean snorts quietly, Eren grumbles irately at him, but before he can curl in on himself, Jean leans in and kisses his cheek warmly. “Hey, you know as well as I do that Marco doesn’t mind being ambushed.” Pressing Eren’s bangs off his forehead, Jean drags his kisses up along his temple, gently tugging his head back against his shoulder so he can reach his lips. After a few soft kisses, Eren relaxes again, resting his hand on Jean’s knee and squeezing, silent acceptance of the blonde’s silent apology. “If he’d really rather do something else, you know he’d tell us, babe.”

Sighing softly, Eren chews on his nail and blinks down at the screen again with a vague nod. Jean runs his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair a few more times before he closes his laptop and sets it on the coffee table, moving easily to perch in Eren’s lap instead. If Eren needs encouragement, encouragement he shall receive.

As he runs his thumbs across Eren’s cheeks, Jean smiles crookedly and leans in for more kisses, slowly easing Eren back out of his hesitant shell before he repeats, “What’re you thinking?”

Eren rests his hands on the blonde’s hips and flusters beneath him a little more, peering down as his thumbs slide under the hem of Jean’s loose shirt. “I dunno,” he mumbles finally, his brow furrowing slightly.

Sighing his name, Jean shifts further into Eren’s lap and ducks to kiss his cheek again, his arms resting comfortably over Eren’s shoulders. He knows Eren’s still shy about asking for things a certain way, though, so rather than push, Jean curls his fingers into the brunette’s hair and nuzzles him soothingly.

Eren’s been getting better and better about asking when he wants things from them, but it’s not a habit that can be broken overnight. He still stumbles and hesitates, and sometimes, no matter how patient and encouraging Jean and Marco are, he still swallows the details rather than ask for more specific things. Despite this, however, it’s obvious that he’s easing into it, even if it’s somewhat tensely.

Jean tilts Eren’s chin up and kisses him again, slow and soothing, his free hand resting over the nape of his neck and rubbing gently. He kisses him until Eren’s shoulders relax again and his hands drift further up his shirt to rest on his waist, until the worry leaks back out of his expression and his leg stops bouncing.

Pulling back with a soft hum, Jean wraps his arms around Eren’s neck and nudges their noses together, coaxing another few light kisses out of him before he murmurs, “You wanna jump Marco?” Eren swallows, his eyes falling to their laps, but he nods in response. Jean nuzzles his boyfriend’s temple, still petting him encouragingly. “Can I help?”

“Wanna jump him with you, nerd,” Eren mumbles, wrapping his arms around Jean’s waist and tugging him closer.

“’Kay.” Jean rests one hand on his boyfriend’s cheek, kissing him again slowly, gratefully. Between kisses, he asks, “You have an idea, yeah?” It takes a little longer this time, but Eren nods again, and Jean rewards him again. He presses their chests together, thighs spread over the brunette’s lap, slipping his tongue between Eren’s soft lips as he leans further into him. “Can I hear it?”

Eren swallows again, fisting one hand idly in Jean’s shirt. “Don’t exactly have a play-by-play.”

“That’s okay,” Jean says, tilting Eren’s face back up to him. Nuzzling him again with a crooked smile, Jean slides one arm around Eren’s shoulders and melts against him, trailing his kisses across his flushed cheek, over to his ear, where he pauses for a long moment to nibble at his earlobe. Eren’s fingers twitch, his breath hitching slightly, so Jean hums and presses his hips down onto him, slow and promising. “What do you want, Eren?” Jean breathes, his free hand trailing gently down the brunette’s chest.

“Mmph,” is Eren’s eloquent response, his eyes fluttering closed. He lifts his hips into Jean’s, gripping the blonde’s sides again for a moment. “I mean, h-he should get to relax, you know.” Jean purrs his agreement against Eren’s ear, rocking his hips again. Duly encouraged, Eren exhales slowly before he continues, “So I thought maybe you could rub his shoulders and kiss him and stuff. A-and I could suck him off a bit.”

“Mhm,” Jean sighs, his wandering hand sliding under Eren’s shirt, pressing his palm against warm, dark skin. “I think he’d like that.”

“Y-yeah.” Eren leans his forehead against Jean’s shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend’s slow attention, absolutely letting himself be bribed by the promise of more affection. “Then, uh.” He swallows again, momentarily distracted by the way Jean’s hand slides further up his shirt, slender fingers brushing along his ribs.

“Then?” Jean prompts, his voice pitched low and breathy in hopes of getting Eren more riled up.

“Oh. Th-then... k-kinda wanted to ride him.”

Jean moans quietly against Eren’s ear, squeezing his side as he grinds his hips down again. “Mm, I know he’d like that,” he whispers, earning a stuttering little whine from his boyfriend. Eren mouths hotly along Jean’s neck, his hands shifting to the blonde’s hips and tugging, trying to coax him into grinding against him some more. Jean obliges him, leaning his head back and rocking into his lap with a shivering sigh.

After a moment, Eren clears his throat and leans back again, slouching down so he can rock up into Jean more smoothly. “D-didn’t really think about it much besides that,” he says, flicking his gaze between Jean’s eyes and their laps. “Mostly just wanna let him sit back, y’know.”

Smiling widely and biting his lip, Jean nods, dragging his nails down Eren’s side before he leans in and kisses him again, thanking him and rewarding him for his compliance. He lets Eren deepen the kiss with a low moan, still rocking his ass along the bulge of Eren’s cock through his jeans until the brunette pulls back and licks his lips. “W-what’re you gonna do?”

“I dunno yet.” Jean sighs and runs his hand over Eren’s stomach under his shirt, scratching his nails through soft curls as he ponders. “I’m feeling pretty flexible right now, I’ll see what he’s in the mood for.” He grins, grinding down firmly for a moment, before he teases, “If he doesn’t pass out from you riding him, anyway.”

Eren flushes and sucks on his lips, but he doesn’t protest Jean’s well-placed faith. He just pulls him down for more kisses, which Jean is more than happy to supply, both hands wandering gently across Eren’s chest. They make out for a while, purposely trying to take it slow, before Eren hums and squeezes Jean’s hips.

“I had another idea.”

“Oh?”

“But I’m not telling you.” Jean furrows his brow and purses his lips, but before he can ask, Eren grins crookedly and says, “I’ll show you.”

Jean raises his eyebrows, clearly interested, and flops over onto the couch to let his boyfriend stand. As he makes to scoot by, Jean hums and reaches out to palm along the impressive tent Eren’s pitching, his tongue poking out between his teeth at the way the brunette’s hips tilt forward into the touch. Still, he lets Eren slide away into the bedroom, adjusting his own arousal in his loose pants.

As he waits patiently, Jean hears the closet open, some shuffling, the faucet running in the bathroom, and some more shuffling, but he just palms at his cock idly to keep himself occupied, not willing to risk dampening Eren’s confidence by rushing him or sassing him.

He’s well aware that Eren’s full of good ideas, but his eyes still widen when his boyfriend comes back out wearing nothing but a huge grin and one of Marco’s bigger sweaters, the collar loose on his bony shoulders, the sleeves long enough to cover his hands entirely.

“Damn,” Jean groans, sitting up and gesturing him closer. Eren comes to stand between Jean’s knees and sticks his tongue out as he looks him over, resting his hands on his warm, bare thighs. “Yeah, you’re gonna fry his brain.”

As Jean’s palms rub slowly up and down Eren’s thighs, the brunette fidgets with the sweater’s floppy sleeves for a moment before he mumbles, “One more thing.”

Quirking an eyebrow in question, Jean blinks up at him in time to watch a pretty flush cross his face. Eren fidgets some more, his hips shifting, until he pulls one of his sleeves up and shows Jean what he’s holding. Namely, one of their plugs, which he’d apparently dug out of the box of (sadly) rarely-used toys in their closet. Jean raises his eyebrows before he smiles warmly up at Eren, sliding his hands up to squeeze his bare ass playfully.

Blushing loudly, Eren stares down at the toy and wheezes, “Washed it and all.”

“Yeah?” Jean breathes, pulling his boyfriend closer so he can nuzzle his stomach through the soft sweater. “What d’you wanna do with that, hmm?”

Eren swallows audibly, still avoiding eye contact and fidgeting. “I, uh.” He clears his throat slightly. “I want it. B-before he comes home.”

Humming contently, Jean grins and squeezes again. “I can help you with that, if you want,” he murmurs, dragging his palms down the backs of Eren’s thighs. Eren nods, biting his lip, and Jean can’t help but laugh quietly as he slides his arms around the brunette’s hips and hugs him tightly. “Eren, you’re so fucking cute, good lord.”

Eren huffs and squirms, tugging on Jean’s messy hair in retaliation. Jean just laughs again, though, before he stands and ducks to catch his boyfriend’s lips, kissing him deeply as he guides him back into the bedroom.

“Marco’s gonna be home in an hour or so,” Jean rumbles, nipping at Eren’s lips as he squeezes his ass again, more than happy to breathe in Eren’s little sighs at the feeling. “You’re so full of good ideas, you know that?”

“I have my moments,” Eren groans, leaning his head back as Jean trails his kisses down his throat, sucking gently at his pulse. He lets Jean push him onto the bed then, scooting up to make room for both of them to lie down.

“Fuck,” Jean breathes, resting one knee on the edge of the bed as he looks Eren up and down, biting his lip and rubbing at his cock again. He grins crookedly, leaning over to grab the lube from the nightstand before he crawls over to Eren and presses against his side, unable to resist sliding his thigh between Eren’s and rubbing against him. The brunette sighs and arches up slightly, rocking his hips along Jean’s thigh. “Fuck, Eren, you’re so cute,” Jean repeats, grinding slowly, steadily against his boyfriend as he leans into his neck again, slipping one hand under the hem of his sweater.

“Gonna get you back for this,” Eren murmurs, wrapping his arms around Jean’s shoulders. “N-next time I’m fucking you through the bed, ‘m gonna tell you how cute you look, see how you like it...”

“You know I like that,” Jean whispers, dragging his tongue up Eren’s ear. “D’you want me to stop, though?”

Eren squirms beneath Jean, sucking on his lips rather than responding right away when Jean leans back to look at him properly. His expression more than gives away how much he enjoys Jean talking him up even before he shakes his head minutely. Reassured by the way Eren squeezes his shoulders, Jean chuckles warmly, pressing sweet kisses to his boyfriend’s flushed cheek.

Shifting to lie more comfortably next to Eren, Jean pops the cap on the lube and pokes his tongue out as he slicks his fingers. He waits for Eren to squirm closer, wrapping himself around the brunette with a few soothing kisses as they settle. Then Eren bites his lip and spreads his narrow thighs, tugging the hem of the sweater up over his aching cock as he does, and Jean has to take a moment to remember how to breathe.

“Eren, god,” he groans, sighing slowly. He leans his forehead against Eren’s and licks his lips, mumbling, “You have no idea what I wanna do to you...”

Shivering slightly, the brunette grins and wiggles his hips temptingly, earning a flustered moan from his boyfriend. Jean nips at the angle of his jaw, shifting so he can rub his cock firmly against Eren’s hip. When he reaches down and presses his fingers gently against his entrance, Eren’s lips part around a soft sigh, his hips arching into the attention.

With a heavy exhale, Jean squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep himself together. He reminds himself that they’re waiting for Marco, hoping that thought will help him keep his sanity, but the way Eren wets his lips with his tongue and wiggles again kind of drives Jean back into the realm of severe temptation.

It only gets worse when Eren opens his damn mouth, arousal clearly making him bolder.

“M-maybe when Marco’s done,” Eren breathes shakily, a wide grin spreading across his flushed face, “You can have a turn.”

“Eren, fuck—” Jean whimpers, ducking to bite at the crook of the brunette’s neck with another shaky groan. “Fuck, baby, you’re killin’ me here...”

Eren just laughs, tilting his head back. “You’re an easy t-target, couldn’t resist.”

With a low, rumbling moan, Jean leans up and kisses him again, deep and messy and teasing, his fingers still rubbing against Eren in slow circles. As he starts pressing more firmly, easing the tip of one finger into his boyfriend, Jean leans up to watch his face for any discomfort. Eren’s eyes just flutter closed, though, and he rocks his hips back for more with a warm sigh.

Jean waits until he’s slid his finger in to the knuckle to exact his revenge, making sure Eren’s comfortable and relaxed before he starts thrusting, his movements purposely slow and steady. He leans into the brunette’s ear with a ragged hum, curling his finger teasingly, eagerly watching Eren’s thighs twitch, then slide further apart, his body arching up for more. “If you’re up for it,” he murmurs, “I’ll fuck you however you want, baby.” Eren shivers again, licking his lips at the way Jean sounds, his voice hot and rough against the angle of his jaw. “You can ride me too, if you want, but I bet your thighs are gonna be all shaky from taking Marco’s cock, yeah? You know he fills you up so nicely, so deep...”

Whimpering quietly, Eren rocks his hips back into Jean’s languid thrusts, obviously trying to get him to move his finger faster, to give him more, but Jean doesn’t give in, not just yet. He bites Eren’s ear gently, curving his finger up into his prostate and pressing light circles there, earning a tiny little whine, before he goes back to long, slow, insufficient thrusts.

“I’ll be so good to you, Eren,” Jean breathes, dragging hot, wet kisses up the brunette’s jaw. Eren bites his lip, arching his back, his cock twitching against his stomach. “Whenever you’re ready for me, I’ll let you sit on my dick too. I’ll help you, though, ‘cause Marco’s gonna be so good to you, you’re not gonna be able to sit up straight after that. You’re gonna look so good, baby, the both of you.” Humming warmly, Jean chuckles and slips his finger out entirely, mostly just for the way Eren’s brow furrows and his hips lift off the bed, a quiet gasp slipping from between his lips.

When Jean slides his finger back in, Eren moans softly, squirming and tightening at the feeling. “J-Jean,” he murmurs, one hand dropping to rest on the blonde’s forearm, squeezing encouragingly.

“Ah, Eren,” Jean groans, pressing his finger deeper. “You’re so tight, baby. Gonna drive Marco so crazy when you’re riding him, all squeezing around him and making him moan for you. I can’t wait to watch that, it’s gonna be amazing, Eren. I can wait my turn if it means getting to watch you fall apart on Marco’s cock.”

“Jean,” Eren groans, turning to catch Jean’s lips roughly, his thighs already visibly shaking. “J-Jean, c’mon—goddamn tease—”

“An eye for an eye,” Jean chuckles, nipping at the brunette’s lips. He pulls his finger back again, but this time he works a second in alongside it, slow and gentle in a way that has Eren shivering out a weak little moan and wiggling for more.

“Y-you’re a menace,” Eren manages, blinking blearily at his boyfriend. “You win, c’mon, just...”

Smiling widely, Jean scissors his fingers inside Eren before curling them again, thrusting a little faster and making sure to rub past his sweet spot every time. “You want me to stop talking?”

Eren huffs and fists his hand in Jean’s hair, tugging him into another kiss as he rocks his hips insistently. “’S making it really hard to wait for Marco to come home,” he growls against Jean’s lips, his breath panting out hot.

“Mm, I know,” Jean sighs, flicking his tongue between Eren’s lips. “Gotta wait, though.” Eren nods quickly, then arches and gasps when Jean thrusts his fingers deeper, curving them harder. “Gotta wait for Marco... fuck, Eren, I wanna fuck you so bad, you feel how hard I am?” Jean grinds his cock against Eren, earning a stuttering moan. “Really wanna fuck you...”

“J-Jean, please,” Eren whines, although neither of them can tell whether Eren’s begging for Jean to let up or give in. Jean just kisses him again, moaning into him as he works a third finger into him, shifting his wrist so he can thrust harder, quicker.

As he fucks his tongue into Eren’s mouth, swallowing his sweet little noises and gasps, Jean keeps his movement steady, and Eren meets his rhythm perfectly, riding his hips back onto Jean’s fingers even as he starts to shake for more. Jean coaxes more sounds out of him, rewarding his needy moans and his loud whimpers with deeper, better thrusts and firm presses, until Eren’s taking his fingers easily and begging for him between messy kisses.

Somehow maintaining a shred of his self-control, Jean sits up with a ragged sigh and kneels between Eren’s trembling thighs, taking a good long look at the way his boyfriend looks stretched around his fingers.

The sight reminds him of a conversation he’d had with Marco recently, something fun Marco had discovered while fooling around with Eren that he’d been eager to share with Jean. With a soft, murmured praise, Jean presses his free hand low on Eren’s stomach, just above the base of his cock, before he rubs the tips of his fingers firmly against his boyfriend’s sweet spot with a few slow, deliberate strokes.

Eren’s eyes cross slightly before they shutter closed, his hands weakly gripping the pillow beneath his head as his back arches, gasping Jean’s name in panted little breaths. Jean keeps it up, massaging Eren’s prostate until the brunette’s spine curves away from the bed entirely, his thighs and his hips and his stomach tense, his cock flushed and absolutely dripping precome onto Jean’s knuckles. Choking out a ragged curse, Eren squirms and rocks his hips, his mouth hanging open as he tries to draw breath.

Marco had been right. Eren looks incredible.

The face he’s making is almost enough to make Jean lose his cool entirely. He grinds his fingers into Eren a few more times, just for the way it makes his boyfriend’s whole body shake, until Eren’s hand flies down to Jean’s forearm, patting insistently. Jean immediately lets up with his fingers, holding still to let Eren calm down again.

“That too much, love?” Jean asks, carefully checking in. Eren shakes his head slightly, his hips rolling again, so Jean asks, “You okay?” This time, Eren nods, licking his lips with an uneven sigh.

“Th-that’s,” Eren gasps, melting back against the sheets with a whimper. He opens his eyes again, pinning Jean with his intense gaze. “That’s cheating, y-you ass, d-did Marco teach you that?”

Jean grins crookedly and nods, letting his hand drift lazily across Eren’s stomach. “Just seein’ what it’d do to you.”

“B-blue screen of death,” the brunette grumbles, running a shaky hand through his hair.

“Clearly.” Jean leans over Eren again and kisses him, sucking gently at his flushed lips with a content sigh before he nuzzles him and laughs quietly. “You gonna get me back for that, too?”

“D-definitely,” Eren mumbles, resting his hand over the back of Jean’s neck. “And Marco, too, he’s the one who figured that out. I s-swear he made me jizz my brains out in like thirty seconds...”

“Always the inventive one,” Jean snickers, gently spreading his fingers. “Speaking of Marco...” Eren nods, rocking his hips onto Jean’s fingers with a huffed sigh. Sitting up again, Jean takes a moment to look his shivering boyfriend over once more before grabbing the plug from beside them. He eases his fingers out, licking his lips and moaning low in his throat at the way Eren’s thighs part eagerly and his hips arch again. Jean holds his bleary gaze as he spreads more lube over the plug, watching the brunette’s teeth dig into his lip again.

He reaches up and runs his thumb along Eren’s lip, easing it away from his teeth, and Eren takes the opportunity to wrap his lips around Jean’s thumb with a quiet moan, wasting no time in sucking gently and curving his tongue around it.

“Jesus, Eren,” Jean groans, surging up to kiss him again, his hands shaking with his restraint. Eren arches up against him, sliding his arms over Jean’s shoulders. “Eren, we gotta wait, baby,” Jean manages, more to remind himself than Eren, straddling one of the brunette’s spread thighs so he can thrust his still-trapped cock against him.

Eren nods frantically, licking and sucking his flushed lips. “F-for Marco,” he says, his voice shaking. “C’mon, Jean...”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Jean mumbles, ducking to bite at Eren’s pulse again before he sits up straight, shaking his head to center himself. He shifts his grip to the flared base of the plug, resting his free hand on the inside of Eren’s thigh, and at Eren’s nod, he nudges the rounded tip against him. Even though Eren’s already relaxed from his fingers, Jean takes it slowly, watching the way the brunette’s eyes roll closed, his fingers gripping Jean tightly.

Just before the plug slides all the way into Eren, Jean pulls it back slightly, earning a flustered, raspy moan of his name, Eren’s breath panting out heavy between little sounds as he squirms. Jean bites his lip and repeats the motion, gently fucking Eren with the plug until the brunette arches off the bed and moans raggedly, fisting his hands in Jean’s shirt.

“J-Jean, fuck, Jean,” Eren gasps, blinking up at him again. “J-Jean, fuck, that’s t-too—ah—”

“S-sorry,” Jean mumbles, easing the plug farther back, but Eren shakes his head quickly and rocks his hips after it.

“N-no, no, it feels good—b-but we gotta wait, baby.”

Jean swallows heavily and nods, glancing down at the plug again. This time, he slides it all the way into Eren, his brain going fuzzy at the way his body takes it so eagerly. He can’t help but press against the base once it’s settled, rocking it into him, and Eren’s thighs shake so perfectly when he does.

“H-how’s it feel, love?” Jean asks, dragging his palms up and down the insides of Eren’s thighs. “Feel okay?”

Eren nods, blinking up at Jean again. “’S r-really good,” he breathes, swallowing heavily before he tugs the blonde back to him. Jean pauses to rip his shirt off, baffled as to why he was even still wearing it, before he leans over Eren on his forearms and kisses him again, both clinging to each other and moaning into each other. Eren tilts his head back with a sharp exhale, arching his precome-slick cock up against the hollow of Jean’s hip. “’S really good, Jean, w-when’s Marco coming home?”

Pushing his lopsided glasses up, Jean leans up and squints at the alarm clock beside the bed. “Soon,” he replies, regretfully sitting up again so he can dig his phone out of his pocket and check his texts. “Yeah, he left a little while ago.” Jean pauses to tap out an inconspicuous reply, trying really hard not to be distracted by the way Eren’s wiggling, before he drops his phone and runs his clean hand through his ruffled hair.

Peering up at him, Eren fists his hands in the hem of the sweater, obviously struggling to keep his hands to himself. He ends up palming at his aching arousal anyway with a little gasp, his hand sliding through slick precome in a way that feels far too good to pass up. Jean groans as Eren wraps his fingers around his cock, giving himself a firm stroke with a low moan.

“E-Eren...”

He strokes himself again, tilting his head back and sighing, before he pulls his hand away and fists it in the sheet instead. “How m-much longer?” he asks, licking his lips impatiently at the look on Jean’s face.

“Soon, like... I dunno, fifteen minutes,” Jean wheezes, squeezing his own cock through his pants with a stuttering moan. “W-what should we do?”

“I dunno.” Eren swallows, watching Jean’s hand. “W-wanna play Mario Kart?”

Jean leans his head back with a ragged laugh, dragging his hand down his face. “Honestly, I really wanna suck your dick,” he says, leaning over Eren on one hand. He bites his lip and finally tugs his cock out of his pants, giving himself a slow, loose stroke just to tease them both, and Eren’s eyes widen as he watches, his hips bucking up into nothing. “Among a million other things I wanna do to you right now,” Jean continues. He drags his fingers through his dripping precome with a low moan, glancing down at his hand before he grins at Eren again. “But I mostly wanna watch you try to hold it together when Marco finally walks through the door.”

“It’s gonna be an ordeal,” Eren moans, digging his hands into his hair. “How long d’you think it’ll take to convince him?”

“Like, one second.”

“Thank god.” Scrubbing his hands down his face, Eren takes a few deep breaths before he reaches for Jean again, seeking his warmth and his weight more than anything else. After he stuffs his cock back into his pants, the blonde obliges him, settling over him for more slow, lazy kisses. He keeps his hands to himself as much as he can, aside from dragging his knuckles across Eren’s flushed cheek. “Should wait for him out there,” Eren mumbles against Jean’s lips, slowly dragging his short nails down the blonde’s sides. “Oh, and don’t tell him about the thing.”

Jean blinks. “The plug?” Eren nods, licking his lips and grinning.

“Wanna surprise him. Can you imagine the look on his face?”

Tilting his head back, Jean laughs quietly. “Yeah. He might come in his pants, you know how much he likes surprises.” Eren hums his agreement, leaning up to mouth up Jean’s throat with a slow sigh. Jean moans softly, his hand gripping Eren’s thigh, before he sits back and climbs off the bed onto wobbly legs. “C’mon, let’s go be sneaky,” he chuckles, holding his hands out to help Eren stand up.

As Eren scoots toward the edge of the bed, his breath hitches a few times, distracted by the way the plug shifts perfectly inside of him. At a glance, the toy doesn’t look like much, but it sure does get the job done. Eren slips his fingers into Jean’s and uses his support to keep himself steady once he’s got his feet under him, his breath picking up again.

“You okay, baby?” Jean murmurs, gently pulling Eren against him.

“Y-yeah.” Eren leans his forehead against Jean’s shoulder and takes a deep breath. “Never used one of these things before. ‘S weird, moving around with something up there...”

Raising his eyebrows, Jean soothes his hands over Eren’s shoulders and ducks to kiss the top of his head. “You’ve never used a plug before?” Eren shakes his head slowly, his hands coming to rest on Jean’s narrow waist. The blonde snickers, holding Eren close as he whispers, “You know that thing vibrates, right?”

Eren tenses in his arms before he stares up at him with wide eyes. “What.”

“Yeah. Doesn’t look like it, but it does.”

The brunette’s vision goes a little hazy before he drops his head against Jean’s chest again with a wheezy little whimper. “Please don’t do that to me, I’ll die...”

“Mm, if you don’t want me to, I won’t,” Jean murmurs, kissing warmly along Eren’s ear. “D’you like vibrators?”

“Way more than I should.” Eren swallows heavily, his thighs pressing together, and the way his hips shift as he squeezes around the plug kind of makes Jean’s mouth dry, stretching his patience even thinner.

“Good to know.” Jean chuckles warmly, sliding his hands down to curve around Eren’s ass again, his fingers teasing along the base of the plug. Eren’s breath hitches and he arches up onto his toes slightly, his hands gripping Jean as best he can. That reaction’s too damn sexy, Jean decides, so he ducks into Eren’s neck and bites at his pulse and tries to see how many more times he can get Eren to do it.

Before he gets too far, though, Eren pushes away from Jean slightly and groans, “C’mon, you ass, let’s go sit on the couch and think unsexy thoughts.”

Loath as he is to do it, Jean lets Eren slide out of his arms and into the living room, grabbing his phone to check for texts as he follows. He flops heavily onto the couch and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “Marco demands ice cream,” he says softly, already tapping out a response. “Told him we can go get some once he’s kicked back a little.”

“Yeah...” Jean blinks up at Eren, who’s grimacing at the couch.

“You okay?”

Eren crosses his arms, blushing furiously. “H-how the hell am I supposed to sit down?”

With a completely serious expression, Jean reaches down and tugs the hem of his sleep pants down again so his cock bounces out, standing hard against his stomach, before he says, “You can sit here, if you want.”

“Ugh,” Eren laughs, throwing a pillow at his boyfriend before he kneels gingerly on the couch, then sits back on his heels. Grinning widely, Jean makes himself decent again, scooting across the couch for another few soft kisses.

Before they can get too invested, the sound of a key in the lock startles both of them, and Eren squeezes around the plug in a way that kind of knocks him brainless for a second. Luckily, Jean’s got him covered, quickly swooping over the back of the couch to intercept their cold, grouchy boyfriend.

Marco’s already wrapped around the blonde like a squid, his face buried in his neck as Jean drags him back into the living room and toward the couch.

“I want three kinds of ice cream,” he grumbles into Jean’s throat, his arms hanging limply over his boyfriend’s shoulders, “And a vacation and a pay raise and real June weather and a pony.”

Eren shifts up onto his knees with a smile, leaning over the back of the couch to watch Jean pull him over to sit with them, still holding his keys and wearing his soaked coat. “I think we can manage some of that for you, sweetheart,” he says, pressing himself up against Marco’s other side. The brunette groans, wrapping one arm around Eren’s waist so he can tug him closer. Eren presses his hands to Marco’s cool face, pulling him in for some loving kisses.

“You look cute,” Marco mumbles between kisses, holding Eren tightly as his other hand scratches through Jean’s messy hair.

“Mm, and you look wet,” Eren chuckles, reaching back to steal Marco’s keys from his hand and tossing them on the coffee table. He sits back slightly so he can pull Marco’s bag off as well, setting it behind the couch while Jean works on unzipping his coat. Normally, he’d toss the coat somewhere at random, but Jean knows better than to fuck with an irate Marco, so he stands up and goes to hang it up like a responsible adult.

Marco sighs, leaning his head back against the couch, feasibly enjoying a moment of peace and quiet. Eren smiles down at him, running his hand slowly up and down the brunette’s shirt. He pauses to unfasten the top few buttons and loosen his tie, but he leaves it at that, content to let Marco decompress for the time being.

When Jean slinks back onto the couch, he slips his fingers under Marco’s jaw and coaxes him in for a few lazy kisses, so Eren leans in and nuzzles into the brunette’s ear, breathing sweet love against him as he pets him. Marco purrs between them, visibly relaxing under their attention.

“How’re you holding up, sweetheart?” Eren scratches his nails through Marco’s hair as he asks, his hands moving slow and soothing.

“It could be worse,” Marco sighs, turning to shoot him a tiny smile. “Better now, but today was not one of my better days.”

“I’m sorry, love.” Eren wraps his arms around Marco’s neck and trails warm kisses up along his cheek, up his temple, while Jean laces his fingers with Marco’s and brushes his lips along his knuckles.

“’S not your fault,” Marco replies, turning to nudge his nose against Eren’s. “Just Murphy’s Law, I guess.”

“Well,” Jean says, smiling warmly at Marco, “You have the whole evening to make up for it. Your call, what d’you wanna do?”

Marco hums, blinking between his boyfriends, before he shrugs lazily. “I mostly just kinda wanna blob around, honestly...” He looks between them again, squinting at Jean’s mussed hair and Eren’s lingering blush. “You’re plotting something, aren’t you.”

Eren laughs and shifts to perch on one of the brunette’s spread thighs with a slow sigh, biting his lip around a grin. Jean raises his eyebrows, knowing Marco’s thigh must be grinding the plug into Eren maddeningly, but Eren just grins wider. Aiming a knowing smirk at him, Jean keeps his mouth shut and instead turns to drag warm kisses along Marco’s cheek.

“I mean, we might have conspired for the greater good,” Eren laughs, licking his lips teasingly. “But if you want us to leave you alone, that’s cool too.” He leans forward, catching his flushing boyfriend’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss. “Totally up to you. You get to call the shots, yeah?”

“U-um.” Marco swallows heavily, glancing over at Jean, whose smirk just widens.

“If it sweetens the deal at all,” the blonde says, rubbing his thumb soothingly over Marco’s, “Our conspiring involved a lot of you sitting back and us lavishing attention on you.”

“Oh.” Marco blinks again, squirming slightly between them as he looks back up at Eren with a slow smile. “Well, that’s exactly what I wanted to do today, so.”

“Lucky you, huh,” Eren chuckles, leaning in to flick his tongue against the part of Marco’s lips, shifting further into the brunette’s lap with a little shiver. “How about it, hm? Sound okay to you?”

Marco nods quickly, his free hand coming to squeeze Eren’s side. He takes a moment to look the brunette over, biting his lip softly, before he squints up at his boyfriend again. “A-are you wearing anything under that?”

Eren’s grin widens, shrugging one shoulder casually, before he spreads his thighs wide and lifts the hem of the sweater up above his still-hard cock, licking his lips slowly at the way Marco’s breath shudders out of him. It’s the same move he’d pulled on Jean earlier, but the blonde is no less affected the second time around, his eyes helplessly following the lines of Eren’s thighs as they shift temptingly.

“O-oh,” Marco wheezes.

“You okay there, love?” Jean laughs after a moment, like he has any room to talk. Marco sighs and nods, looking Eren over again before he turns to Jean and nips sharply at the blonde’s lips. Jean grins again, catching Marco’s lips in a deep, messy kiss, his free hand sliding down to palm across his boyfriend’s cock where it’s already straining against his zipper.

Eren hums and watches them kiss, shifting back enough to finish unbuttoning Marco’s shirt so he can slide his palm along warm, bare skin, dragging his thumb over one of the brunette’s nipples as he does. Marco sighs against Jean’s lips, leaning further into him, before he pulls back with another light kiss. “So, what’re you two planning, then?” he asks, turning and sliding his fingers through Eren’s hair. “What am I in for?”

“Marathon sex,” Eren laughs, leaning up onto his knees again with a soft moan. He reaches between them and works Marco’s belt open slowly, holding his gaze the entire time as he unfastens his pants and tugs them down enough that Jean can rub Marco’s thick cock through his boxers. Marco moans softly, his eyelids fluttering, before he reaches out and tugs Eren into a slow kiss, dragging his nails lightly across the back of the brunette’s neck.

“Here, hold on,” Jean murmurs, catching his boyfriends’ attention. He moves to sit up on the arm of the couch, tugging at Marco’s sleeve, and says, “Come sit between my legs, I’ll rub your shoulders.”

Marco nods, humming softly before he pulls his tie off over his head and shucks his shirt. Eren shifts back to let him get adjusted, then crawls between the brunette’s spread thighs with a wide grin so he can steal the rest of Marco’s clothes, leaving him naked and blushing between them. Jean sets to rubbing Marco’s shoulders firmly, using his thumbs to work the tension out of his muscles and earning a low groan.

Making himself comfortable on his stomach, Eren scoots closer and wraps his hand around Marco’s cock, grinning at him and stroking him slowly and eating up his breathy sighs. Marco licks his lips, running his fingers gently through Eren’s hair. “You guys spoil me,” Marco murmurs, glancing at Jean over his shoulder. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Must be karma,” Jean laughs, rubbing his thumbs slowly up the back of Marco’s neck, alongside his spine and up to the base of his skull. Marco moans and leans his head forward, his eyes shuttering closed. “You must’ve been a serious criminal in another life or something,” Jean continues teasingly, “If you’re saddled with both of us now.”

Eren raises an eyebrow at them. “Can you imagine Marco being a criminal? C’mon now.”

“I dunno,” Jean hums, “I bet he’d look hot with an eyepatch.”

“Why an eyepatch?” Marco groans, laughing despite himself. “Stop stealing my eyeballs.”

“This is really hot sex talk, by the way,” Eren snorts, turning to bite playfully along the soft inside of Marco’s thigh.

“Yeah, but it’s working, isn’t it?” Jean replies, leaning forward to press a slow, wet kiss against the nape of Marco’s neck as his hands work back onto his shoulders. “Any means to an end, or whatever.”

“If you say so,” Eren chuckles, shifting up onto his elbows more so he can rub his cheek against Marco’s arousal, tilting his head to mouth wetly up the side. Marco twitches and gasps, lifting his head again so he can watch blearily.

“E-Eren,” he moans, gently combing Eren’s bangs away from his forehead. Eren blinks up at him and smiles against his cock, sliding his tongue out along the sensitive underside with a breathy laugh, the feeling coaxing another stuttering moan out of his boyfriend. “Ah, that’s nice...”

Jean smiles over Marco’s shoulder, his fingers digging between the brunette’s shoulder blades as he watches Eren mouth sloppily up and down Marco’s cock, not bothering to keep it neat or quiet. Marco seems to appreciate that, based on the way his thighs are already twitching, his breath already panting out hot as he presses the back of Eren’s head encouragingly.

With a low hum, Eren makes his way back up Marco’s cock, his eyes fluttering closed as he moves, clearly enjoying himself. He pays no mind to the saliva slicking his cheeks or his chin, focusing more on curving his mouth around Marco’s arousal as he licks his way up, slowing down even more as he slips his tongue across sensitive foreskin. Marco whimpers quietly, lifting his hips at the feeling, and when Eren sucks his hood between his lips and laves his tongue across it, his hand still stroking gently, Marco’s head falls back on a ragged moan, his fingers shaking in Eren’s hair.

Careful of the sensitive head, Eren nuzzles his face against Marco’s soaked cock once more with a low hum, blinking back up at the brunette as he does so. Both of his boyfriends are watching him with dazed expressions, Jean’s hands still squeezing Marco’s shoulders, so Eren grins up at them and drags the flat of his tongue up the underside again before he wraps his lips around him with a low moan.

His lips sliding easily through the saliva and precome slicking Marco’s cock, Eren wraps his fingers lightly around the base and angles Marco toward him a little more, wasting no time in bobbing his head slowly, evenly, his tongue pressing and curling along the underside. Marco shivers and whines his name, leaning his head back against Jean’s shoulder as he melts between them. Jean turns to mouth up his boyfriend’s neck, sucking and biting gently, sliding his hands around and running them across his chest, down his stomach, scratching his nails through the soft curls beneath Marco’s navel. Marco reaches up and curves his free hand over the back of Jean’s neck, tilting his head aside for him.

Eren hums contently as he sucks down Marco’s cock, keeping a steady pace with his lips and his clever tongue. He scoots closer, though, his ass arching up in the air a little, and the shift rubs the plug inside of him right against his sweet spot. Moaning softly, Eren shivers and loses his rhythm for a moment, but by the time Marco’s blinking down at him, he’s picked it up again, eyes still closed in concentration.

He finds that if he wiggles his hips, the plug shifts inside of him spectacularly, so he does so, moaning around his mouthful and leaning in to take Marco deeper, sucking harder. Marco arches slightly and gasps his name as he does, his fingers tightening in his hair.

“You hear him moanin’?” Jean rumbles into Marco’s ear, dragging his palms slowly up and down the brunette’s chest. “See him wiggling his pretty ass?” Marco swallows and nods, watching Eren dazedly as he bites his lip.

Blinking up at Jean, Eren takes Marco deep again, burying his nose in soft, dark curls just as he arches his ass up higher, the hem of his sweater slipping down into the tight curve of his spine. Marco squeezes his eyes shut with a shivering moan and leans his head back, whining for his boyfriends, before Eren pulls off slowly and switches to stroking him with a firm hand.

“Are we tellin’ him now?” Eren asks, his voice rough. Marco blinks down at him and Jean hums pensively, slipping his fingers down along the smooth joins of Marco’s thighs.

“We could, yeah.”

“Should move to the bedroom.” Eren grins promisingly at Marco, licking his lips as he sits up straight again.

“Yeah... I like this view, though,” Jean murmurs, looking Eren over with a low groan. “It’s perfect, man, it’s gonna be so good...”

Marco whines quietly, squirming between his boyfriends, but the sound is more a plea for attention than for information. Eren smiles and leans in to kiss him warmly as he strokes him, twisting his wrist evenly. He pulls away with a teasing flick of his tongue, then carefully stands up, groaning, “C’mon, I’ve been waiting ages, I can’t take this thing anymore.”

Jean nods, coaxing Marco into sitting up so he can climb off the couch and drag the dazed brunette into the bedroom, Eren laughing close behind. While Eren’s rifling through the nightstand drawer for condoms, Jean sits up against the headboard, then guides Marco into lying on his back between his spread legs, his head resting in Jean’s lap, pillowed on one of his relaxed thighs. Humming contently, Jean slides his palms slowly across Marco’s chest as he asks, “This okay, love?”

“What’re you up to?” Marco mumbles, reaching back to run his hands up Jean’s sides.

“I guess we can fill you in,” Eren purrs, handing the lube and a few condoms to Jean as he comes to kneel beside Marco.

“Hey,” Jean murmurs, tugging at Eren’s sleeve. “Turn around, gimme that.”

Humming warmly, Eren nods, grinning at Marco’s bleary, confused expression before he turns to balance on all fours and arches his ass out toward Jean with a tempting little wiggle. The blonde groans softly, making sure Marco’s watching before he pushes the hem of the sweater up again, showing their boyfriend the plug keeping Eren spread open.

Arching his hips helplessly, Marco whines and bites his lip, reaching up to squeeze Eren’s ass with another ragged sound. “F-fuck, Eren,” he moans, pressing against the base with trembling fingers. Eren gasps and spreads his thighs slightly, peering back over his shoulder. Marco rocks the plug into him, his cock twitching eagerly, before he asks, “D-did you turn it on?”

“Nope,” Eren laughs, leaning his ass away from Marco’s hands before he gets any ideas. “Was trying to save some for you.”

“O-oh.” Marco sighs shakily, reaching for Eren again, and when Eren scoots back and lets the brunette palm at his ass again, Marco shivers and swallows audibly. “Fuck, darling, that’s... th-that’s really hot.”

Jean chuckles, scratching soothingly behind Marco’s ear. “It only gets better, love.” Marco blinks up at him, his thumbs teasing along the flared base of the plug. Licking his lips, Jean reaches over and rocks the plug into Eren again, earning a sweet little gasp, then presses his fingers under it until he’s got the grip he needs to gently ease it out.

Breathing a ragged moan, Eren lets his head drop as the plug slips out again, whining at the strangely empty feeling. He reaches back and grabs one of the condoms, then leans over Marco’s hips to open it and roll it onto his cock, but when he pats around again for the lube, he finds it conspicuously absent.

Before he can look too much, two slick fingers slide deep inside of him, curling and scissoring and coaxing a noisy, wavering moan out of him. He looks back over his shoulder again, squinting at Jean, who’s grinning and working a third finger into him with a breathy laugh. “Just makin’ sure, baby,” Jean murmurs, smirking down at Marco, who’s just panting as he watches Jean spread his fingers inside of him.

“You’re up to no good,” Eren huffs, grinding his ass back against Jean’s hand before he scrambles away, turning to face them and straddling Marco’s thighs with a laugh. “I’m onto you.”

“Oh, did you do the thing?” Marco asks quietly, blinking up at Jean.

“You, sir,” Eren laughs, poking Marco in the stomach. “Conspiring against me.” Grinning sheepishly, Marco runs his hand through his hair and shrugs, shifting so his head’s resting more comfortably on Jean’s thigh. Eren just shakes his head and holds his hand out for the lube, quickly slicking the condom with it.

“Hey, wait,” Marco murmurs, his eyes widening. Eren slows down and tilts his head in question. “A-are you—uh.”

Eren sits back and perches on Marco’s thighs, gently stroking the brunette. “I was gonna ride you. That okay?”

Marco nods quickly, whining and biting his lip. He squirms beneath him, his cock twitching in Eren’s hand, before he pants, “Y-yeah, that’s. Yes. P-please.”

Grinning widely, Eren licks his lips and sits up on his knees, obviously teasing when he asks, “You sure?” Marco nods frantically, reaching out to slide his hands under the sweater so he can grip his boyfriend’s hips in shaky hands. Eren purrs softly, leaning down for a slow, deep kiss as he shifts forward more and straddles Marco properly. He straightens up again and steadies Marco’s cock, then presses down against him with a ragged moan, his dark eyes fluttering at the feeling.

Jean groans softly as Eren works his way down, watching Marco’s eyes squeeze closed, his back arching, barely managing to keep his hips from bucking up into Eren’s tight, slick heat. “E-Eren,” Marco gasps, tilting his head back with a whimper, teeth digging into his lip. Eren’s a sight as well, flushed and panting, bracing his hands on Marco’s stomach as he slowly rocks his hips for more. When he finally settles into his lap, he breathes Marco’s name and arches his back, his head falling back with a soft moan.

There could not possibly be a better view than this. Jean sighs raggedly, running one hand through Marco’s mussed hair while the other slips beneath the waistband of his loose pants and wraps around his neglected arousal with a firm squeeze. He licks his lips and pulls his cock out again, giving himself a few lazy strokes while his boyfriends adjust to each other.

Marco blinks up at Eren, his expression dazed, awestruck, while he runs his palms up and down Eren’s shaking thighs. Eren tilts his head and grins down at him, squeezing Marco’s sides with a stuttering sigh.

“F-feels good, Marco,” he murmurs, circling his hips slowly, cautiously. “M-mmph, you feel so big from this angle...”

Whimpering helplessly, Marco paws at every part of Eren he can reach to keep himself sane before he tugs pointedly at his sweater and whines. Eren blinks, then hums as he straightens up and pulls the loose sweater off entirely. He tosses it toward the hamper and smiles down at Marco, who’s barely keeping his head with the way Eren looks straddling him so comfortably.

Marco pulls Eren down for a messy kiss, unable to help himself as he murmurs breathless praises between the parting of their lips, his hands sliding across the brunette’s dark, sweat-slick skin with a desperate kind of reverence. Jean watches them with a low moan, petting Eren too while he can reach him. After a moment, Eren sits up straight again and takes a deep breath, then spreads his fingers across Marco’s stomach.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he murmurs, leaning his weight on his hands just enough to shift his hips on his boyfriend’s cock. Marco’s breath hitches at the feeling, his hands gripping Eren’s hips tightly, and he nods quickly with another audible swallow. Eren smiles down at him before he flicks his gaze up to Jean’s with a crooked grin, his intense eyes dark and promising. Jean just chuckles and quirks an eyebrow at him, dragging his own heated gaze up and down his boyfriend’s pretty body as he strokes himself a few times.

Taking another deep breath, Eren shifts his knees in the sheets and glances down to focus again. He sucks on his lip and circles his hips experimentally, moaning quietly at the way Marco feels inside of him, before he lifts his hips slowly, then presses down again with a shivering gasp.

Marco’s back arches as he exhales sharply, unable to tear his eyes away from his boyfriend. He gives an encouraging moan, his hands squeezing and shifting restlessly, so Eren smirks down at him and repeats the motion, twisting his clever hips on the way down this time.

Eren sets up a slow, steady rhythm like this, lifting his hips and squeezing, then dropping again and grinding into Marco’s lap, watching his boyfriend’s flushed face as he does. Marco doesn’t disappoint; he’s shaking beneath Eren and gasping, his heels digging into the sheets, panting the brunette’s name as he tries to rock up into his even pace without losing his mind.

“E-Eren,” Marco whimpers, his bleary gaze flicking between Eren’s eyes and his hips. “Eren, baby, fuck...”

“F-feel good, Marco?” Eren asks quietly, tilting his head with a lazy grin. Marco nods, moaning for him again, and Eren leans his head back with a low sigh, his spine arching enticingly. “You feel amazing, sweetheart,” Eren continues, his fingers squeezing Marco’s sides. “Want more of you, love, you feel so good inside me...”

Marco whines loudly, gripping Eren’s hips tightly and holding him down against him as he grinds his cock up into his tight heat, earning a stuttered gasp and a hitching moan. Eren’s eyes squeeze shut as he rolls his hips down onto Marco, his hands shaking, before he sits up straight with a dazed laugh.

“Hey now,” he murmurs, resting his hands over Marco’s and squeezing gently. “Aren’t you supposed to be sitting back and letting me take care of you?” Eren hums, his gaze burning hot over Marco’s overwhelmed body, before he breathes, “Relax for me, baby, I got you.”

Nodding hazily, Marco moans softly and loosens his grip, earning a wide smile from his boyfriend. Beside him, Jean’s still stroking himself slowly, his fingers slipping quietly through dripping precome, so Marco reaches one hand back and pushes Jean’s away, replacing it with his own. Jean groans raggedly, arching into Marco’s grip, and Eren moans as he watches them, his hips rocking gently.

While Marco can still think, he turns his head and mouths up the side of Jean’s cock as best he can, his eyes fluttering closed. With the angle, he can’t quite fit Jean into his mouth, not with as hard as he is, but Marco does his best with his lips and his tongue, keeping him pressed close with his shaking hand. Jean drags his fingers through Marco’s hair with a low hum, watching him suck haphazardly as far up as he can go.

Watching intently, Eren leans back and braces his hands on the bed between Marco’s thighs, circling his hips more widely with a stuttering whine. Jean blinks up at him, his hand fisting loosely in Marco’s messy hair as he takes in the way Eren looks, spread out and stretched around Marco’s cock.

“Damn, Eren,” Jean moans, biting his lip again. “Fuck, you look amazing, babe.”

“Not so bad yourself,” Eren laughs breathlessly. Jean snorts, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him, but the want in Eren’s expression is undeniable, teasing aside. Pausing to shift his weight again, Eren flicks his gaze back to Marco, who’s still brainlessly, messily worshiping Jean’s cock with muffled little moans. Jean reaches down and runs his thumb along Marco’s jaw, breathing a shaky moan as he watches his boyfriend have his way.

Eren licks his lips and starts moving again, though, squeezing around Marco as the brunette’s cock shifts inside him, hard and heavy and perfect. It fills Eren up, spreading him open and rubbing enticingly, so Eren moans softly and rocks his hips harder, shifting back and forth in his boyfriend’s lap and gasping his name for him. His brow furrowing, Marco stutters out a loud moan, muffling it against Jean’s slick cock again. He blinks up at Eren, though, rubbing his cheek against Jean for a moment while he takes in the way Eren’s trembling in his lap.

When Eren lifts his hips again, his head falls back on another wavering moan, the sound only growing louder when he sinks down again and arches his back tighter. Marco watches him blearily, letting Jean take over stroking himself again with a soft moan at the slickness of his boyfriend’s saliva, instead shifting his hand back to Eren’s hip so he can squeeze encouragingly.

With Marco’s guidance, Eren picks up an even rhythm, arching up high on the brunette’s cock before he drops down again, taking all of him deep and squeezing him tight with shivering little whimpers. As he loses his patience, Eren starts moving faster, riding Marco harder, and all Marco can do is try not to lose it, his strong hands helping to pull Eren back onto his cock as he thrusts up into every movement.

His noises pitching higher as he moves harder, Eren lets his eyes slide closed, his lips parting as he pants quickly and tries to hold himself together. He focuses as much as he can on keeping his rhythm, just barely on the edge of losing his mind with how good Marco’s cock feels rutting deep into him. Even as nice as this feels, though, Eren wants to ride him harder, faster, to bounce himself on his boyfriend and fuck his own brains out, but he doesn’t think he has quite that much strength in his twitching muscles. He’s shaking hard as it is, just as Jean had predicted.

Beneath him, Marco’s doing the best he can to keep up, his eyes half-lidded and loosely focused on the fucking wet dream that is Eren riding him, tight and hot and noisy, his pretty cock bobbing against his stomach and begging to be touched. Licking his lips, Marco drags his hands across Eren’s body, squeezing his hips and his thighs, pulling him down harder by his sides, before he shifts one hand to wrap firmly around Eren’s arousal.

“F-fuck!” Eren cries, snapping his hips up into his boyfriend’s hand. He slams back down onto Marco’s cock and squirms there for a moment, gasping for breath, before he stares dazedly down at the fingers slowly squeezing and stroking his soaked cock.

Blinking up at Marco, Eren shakes in his lap and presses feebly into his grip, holding his fucked-out gaze for a long moment before he whimpers and starts rocking his hips again, grinding helplessly in search of friction.

Jean groans softly and squeezes the base of his cock, his eyes flicking between his boyfriends. They’re both so hot, so lost in each other, panting and gasping and moaning. Pressing Marco’s bangs off his forehead, Jean shivers and tries to calm himself down.

Marco arches his hips up into Eren’s desperate grinding with a low groan, digging his heels into the bed as he does, before he manages, “E-Eren, baby,” his hand pawing insistently at Eren’s hips, wordlessly begging his boyfriend to start riding him again, to fuck himself on his cock again. Eren swallows and pants, but he tries his best, shivering out weak little moans as he lifts his hips slightly and drops down onto him again, every part of him trembling violently.

“Marco, M-Marco,” Eren gasps, his head falling back as he grinds into his lap again. “F-feels so good, sweetheart, so d-damn good...”

“Eren, please,” Marco whimpers, tightening his grip on Eren’s cock and trying to get him to move for him. “Please, p-please, I n-need—fuck, c-can we roll over, baby, please?”

Eren blinks down at Marco, watching his boyfriend squirm beneath him, desperate for more of him. He nods quickly, sitting up straight, so Marco groans and pulls him down onto his chest, flipping them over with a rough buck of his hips. He grinds deep as Eren wraps his legs tight around his waist, holding his weight on his forearms, and when he starts thrusting, he can’t help but lean his head back with a loud, shuddering moan at the feeling.

“C-c’mon, Marco,” Eren stutters, arching encouragingly as he rocks his hips back into Marco’s. “C’mon, love, ‘m so close—”

Marco nods quickly, dipping to kiss him briefly. He shivers as he moves harder, thrusting deeper, his spread knees braced in the sheets lending strength to his hips. As Marco speeds up, he pants Eren’s name, staring down at his gorgeous boyfriend and pressing his hands against the brunette’s flushed cheeks and gasping sweet, brainless praises to him, every thrust grinding him deep and earning a breathy moan.

“M-Marco,” Eren whines, tilting his chin up for more messy kisses, his nails scratching bright red lines down Marco’s ribs. “Marco, p-please, ah...”

“Y-you want more, baby?” Marco murmurs, nudging his nose against Eren’s. The brunette nods, writhing beneath him, so Marco moans and obliges, his eyes fluttering shut as he puts his weight into his deep thrusts. Eren arches tight against him, gasping his name for him and squeezing around him, so hot and perfect and disheveled under him that Marco’s babbling before he can stop himself. “Eren, Eren, god you’re so good, baby, so perfect... f-feels incredible, darling, you’re so tight, so ‘mazing, Eren...”

Tilting his head back with a wavering moan, Eren wriggles a hand between them and strokes himself quickly, the feeling driving him even crazier as Marco moans his name and speeds up again. “H-harder, Marco, please,” Eren whimpers, his body tense and trembling from how close he is, and Marco nods, spreading his knees further and pounding his cock hard into his squirming boyfriend.

He wants to hear Eren more, though, to make him moan louder, shakier, so he reaches down to wrap his arm under one of Eren’s thighs, leaning in and bending him back just right. He shivers and moans raggedly, his thrusts losing their even rhythm as he loses himself in Eren’s sweet noises, in his gorgeous body. He holds out as best he can with how amazing Eren feels against him, with the way the brunette’s bucking and writhing for more, but as Eren starts tightening around him, as his pleas grow louder, breathier, Marco has to bite his lip hard against the undeniable pull consuming him.

“F-fuck, Eren, ‘m gonna—gonna come,” Marco gasps, his hands gripping Eren to him desperately tight. “I c-can’t, baby, p-p-please—”

Eren swallows heavily and rakes his nails down Marco’s ribs again, grinding up against him with a shuddering whine, tight and hot and too fucking good, too perfect, and Marco can’t hold back anymore.

Something snaps, and he buries his face in Eren’s neck and whimpers his way through the overwhelming rush of his orgasm, slamming as deep as he can while his needy hands paw at Eren’s skin, holding him closer, trying to get more of him as he moans the brunette’s name with every rough thrust. He’s nearly sobbing his pleasure against his boyfriend’s sweat-slick skin, his hips bucking, until Eren’s hands find his shoulders and push.

Marco leans up onto his hands quickly, his head still spinning wildly as he blinks down at his boyfriend, but before he can ask, Eren’s wrapping his legs tighter around his hips and stroking himself frantically, his back arched off the bed and his head thrown back in the sheets as he cries out for Marco, long and loud and so pretty, rocking back against him and tightening around his cock dizzyingly.

Even as thick come slicks far up Eren’s arched chest, the brunette whimpers and moans and squirms, his free hand fisted hard in the sheets. His eyes are squeezed shut tight, lips parted around sweet noises, and all Marco can do is stare weakly down at him, his hips twitching minutely.

After a moment, Eren collapses back onto the bed with a shivery little whine, his dripping fingers uncurling from around his cock and trembling violently from aftershocks. Marco watches him carefully, gently pressing his hands to his boyfriend’s sides. Eren twitches at the feeling, his dark eyes fluttering open, and then he beams up at Marco, all pretty and flushed and fucked-out. Marco whimpers slightly, waiting as Eren catches his breath.

“A-are you okay, darling?” he asks, unable to keep himself from worrying.

Eren nods lazily, breathing a sated sigh as he carelessly wipes his come-soaked hand in the sheet. “Oh yeah,” he laughs, licking his lips. Marco whines quietly, biting his lip as Eren blinks up at him again. “W-what?” Marco pulls out gently and sits on his heels, and Eren leans up onto his elbows and raises his eyebrows. “Marco?”

Jean leans over and tugs Eren’s earlobe gently, catching his attention so he can check on him too. “He’s worried because you pushed him off.”

“Oh,” Eren blurts, looking back up at Marco. “Oh, nonono, baby.” With a soft groan, Eren gingerly sits up and presses his trembling hands to Marco’s cheeks, pulling him close for soothing, reassuring kisses. “Everything was fine, sweetheart, I just pushed you off me because you were really hot.” Eren grins warmly, nuzzling his nose against the brunette’s. “I can’t get off if I’m too hot, that’s all, I swear.”

“O-oh.” Marco blinks rapidly, resting his hands on Eren’s knees as he kisses him back, relaxing and letting himself be comforted.

“You worry too much, my love,” Eren murmurs, lovingly stroking his fingers through Marco’s mussed hair before he turns to Jean, who tries and fails to look like he wasn’t just as concerned. “You too, nerdling,” he teases, reaching out to pull Jean close and kiss him too. Jean laughs softly and gratefully leans into Eren’s kisses, running his hands down his narrow sides.

“Sorry,” Marco mumbles, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Think I’m just sensitive today.”

“It’s okay, god,” Eren hums, shooting his boyfriend a reassuring smile before he wiggles closer and hooks his knees around Marco’s hips again. “The only reason I didn’t say anything right then is ‘cause I kinda got edged out of words. I’m sorry.”

Marco shakes his head, then leans down against Eren’s shoulder, sliding his hand idly up and down the brunette’s warm thigh. “Love you...”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Eren sighs, pressing a dozen soothing kisses into Marco’s disheveled hair. Once Marco’s relaxed again, Eren blinks back up at Jean, fishing around behind him until he finds the blonde’s half-hard cock and squeezes. Jean wheezes slightly, resting his forehead against Eren’s with a low moan. Smiling widely, Eren gives him a slow stroke and asks, “What about you, huh? Did you come?” Jean shakes his head, eyes sliding closed as he rocks into Eren’s hand. “I promised you a turn, didn’t I?”

“Y-you really wanna go again?” Jean mumbles, nuzzling Eren’s cheek somewhat brainlessly.

“I mean, you’re gonna have to give me a little bit,” Eren laughs, pressing his thumb between the studs of Jean’s piercing with a hum. “Like, half an hour. Think you can make it?”

Jean sighs slowly and shifts closer so he can bury his face in Eren’s hair. “D-dunno.”

Marco sits up straight again, reaching over to squeeze Jean’s hip. “I’m good, if you don’t think you can wait.” He flushes as his boyfriends both raise their eyebrows at him, dropping his gaze to the sheets as he stammers, “I-if you wanna.”

“Would that be too much for you?” Jean asks, sliding his knuckles under Marco’s chin and tilting his face up again. “Don’t wanna hurt you, love.”

“I-I like that kind of thing,” Marco mumbles, squirming bashfully.

“I know, babe,” Jean hums softly, leaning over Eren’s shoulder to press sweet kisses along Marco’s cheek. “Doesn’t hurt to make sure, though. If you’re up for it, I’m game.”

Marco nods and turns to catch Jean’s lips, slipping him his tongue with a shaky sigh. Jean’s obviously incredibly worked up, given the stuttered moan he muffles against his boyfriend’s lips as he leans in hard, reaching up to fist his hand in tangled black hair. Shivering slightly, Marco lets Jean take the reins, more than familiar with how the blonde gets when he’s on edge like this.

Before Jean gets too preoccupied, Marco pulls away with another brief kiss so he can pull the condom off his softening dick and tie it off. Eren snags it from him and rolls out from between them with a groan, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand so he can clean off his stomach. Jean blinks between them almost helplessly, reaching down to stroke his cock loosely while his boyfriends move around.

“Hey, Jean,” Marco hums, pressing his hand to the blonde’s cheek. He smiles softly at the way Jean blinks again before he shakes his head, trying to knock some of the fuzz loose. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jean sighs, running his free hand through his hair. “Yeah, ‘m good...”

After he tosses out the condom and the tissues, Eren flops back onto the bed with a wide grin, lacing his fingers comfortably behind his head. “How’re you holdin’ up there? You gonna make it?” Jean grumbles and nods, but he’s very clearly out of sorts. “You look like we’ve been edging you for days, man, when was the last time you got off?”

“Jacked off this morning,” Jean huffs, frowning down at his aching cock.

“Did watching get you all worked up?” Marco asks as he turns to kneel in front of Jean, draping his arms over the blonde’s bony shoulders. Jean nods distractedly, his eyes glazing over slightly as they drag across Marco’s relaxed body, hovering on the bright scratches down his sides from Eren’s nails. Chuckling warmly, Marco gently combs his fingers through Jean’s mussed hair before he takes his glasses off for him, handing them to Eren to put on the nightstand. “Where do you want me, baby?”

Jean blinks up at Marco again, still not entirely with it. “D-don’t you want a break?”

“I think I’ll take my chances,” the brunette purrs, leaning in to nudge his nose against Jean’s with a sweet smile. He lets Jean kiss him, tangling their tongues lazily as he runs his thumbs across Jean’s flushed cheeks, sighing softly at the way his boyfriend presses closer, kissing him deeper, his free hand falling to Marco’s thigh and squeezing. “Jean,” Marco breathes between kisses, trying to catch his scattered attention again.

Entirely distracted, Jean shifts forward more, presses harder, his knees sliding between Marco’s as he reaches to grip the brunette’s waist with shaking hands. In his efforts to get closer, Jean ends up toppling them both, landing right on top of Marco with a startled whuff. Marco just laughs and wiggles around until he can wrap his thighs loosely around Jean’s waist, scratching gently behind his ears.

“Jean, are you okay?” Marco asks again, making himself comfortable beneath him.

“Y-yeah,” Jean sighs, dragging a hand roughly down his face with a groan. “Yeah, just. Uh.”

“Ohhh,” Marco hums, his smile widening further. “Are you gonna Hulk out on me, love?”

In response, Jean just whimpers and drops his forehead onto the brunette’s chest, his hands fisting weakly in the sheets. Laughing softly, Marco runs his hands soothingly over the blonde’s tense shoulders before he glances up at Eren, who’s shifting to sit up against the headboard with an interested grin.

“Good thing you took one for the team, babe,” Eren says, “This is Advanced Jean. I don’t think I’m quite game for that level of overstim.” Blushing slightly, Marco grins and shrugs, combing his fingers idly through Jean’s hair. “You can already tell he’s gonna lose it?”

“Yeah,” Marco replies, looking down at where Jean’s dragging sloppy kisses across his chest. “He gets all clingy and spaced out, like his head’s full of fuzz.” Grinning back up at Eren, Marco continues, “Plus he just watched me fuck your lights out without getting off somehow, so.”

Humming curiously, Eren nods and says, “And we were fooling around before you got home. Makes sense.”

“You guys make me sound like your science fair project,” Jean mumbles, staring up at Marco through his bangs.

“’S cause Hulk-mode Jean is super rare,” Eren laughs, poking the blonde with his toe. “Usually when you get all worked up, you just want someone to fuck you through a wall. This is like the planets aligning or something. We must study you for science.”

Groaning raggedly, Jean reaches down and grabs Eren’s ankle, turning his dark gaze on him. For lack of a better comeback, he leans over and nips at the brunette’s bony ankle before he mumbles, “Don’t make me come up there.”

“Normally I’d say I can take you, but I don’t think that’s the best idea right now,” Eren snorts, his toes spreading and curling as Jean mouths up the inside of his leg.

Before he can slither too far away, Marco wraps his arms around the blonde’s chest and drags him back over him, then presses his palms firmly to Jean’s cheeks to hold his attention. “How do you want me, love?” he repeats. “You want me like this, or something else?”

Jean honestly looks like he tries to think it over, but he gives up pretty quickly and nods. “’S fine like this,” he mumbles, trying to duck down into his boyfriend’s neck, but Marco’s hands keep him where he is. He whines quietly and reaches down to grab the brunette’s hips, his shifting growing needier.

“One more, babe,” Marco promises, kissing the tip of Jean’s nose. “You wanna prep me? Or do you want me or Eren to do it?”

Blinking slowly, Jean opens his mouth to respond, but that’s about as far as his brain gets before it fizzles out.

As he crawls down to them again, Eren smiles warmly and squeezes Jean’s shoulder. “Can I?” he asks, leaning down to catch Jean’s eye. “I won’t tease you, promise.”

Jean sighs shakily and nods, turning to pull Eren into a deep, lazy kiss. He’s already leaning up onto his knees to move closer when Eren chuckles and presses a gentle hand against Jean’s chest, easing the blonde back so he can get to it.

Shifting his focus, Eren stretches out beside Marco and grins widely, tugging his boyfriend close to him so he can arrange him comfortably. Marco shifts his thighs apart, sliding one over Eren’s with a little smile before he pulls him down for a few soft kisses, fully aware of their boyfriend’s sharp eyes on them. Eren curls his tongue between Marco’s lips as he slicks his fingers with the lube he’d brought them, purposely going a little overboard with it, leaving it dripping from his knuckles.

Marco clings to him while the brunette nuzzles into his ear, murmuring quiet little praises to soothe him, and just as Eren’s slippery fingers slide across his entrance, Marco flicks his gaze back up to Jean’s.

Jean’s stroking himself idly as he watches them, his eyes dark and half-lidded, his teeth digging into his lip to keep himself focused. Marco whimpers quietly when the blonde gives him a crooked smile, his expression an unusual mix of tenderness and wild lust. It’s the sort of look Jean only gets when he’s like this, riding the line between desperately needing affection and desperately needing to fuck something. Marco squirms and sucks at his lips, his thighs spreading further, and Jean sighs slowly at the sight.

Still whispering sweet love to him, Eren nibbles up Marco’s ear and presses the tip of one finger inside of him, coaxing a soft gasp out of him. Jean’s eyes burn down Marco’s body to where Eren’s working his finger deeper, his tongue languidly wetting his dry lips at the sight, and Marco can’t help but arch his hips into Eren’s attention.

They both know how much Marco likes being watched, and he can’t help but wonder if they’re milking that for all it’s worth. Well, Eren might be, anyway. Jean’s brain is probably too scattered to think too deeply into anything.

He’s just kneeling there patiently while Eren thrusts his finger evenly, watching and waiting, his eyes never leaving Marco’s body. Marco whines weakly, then turns and nudges Eren up into a slow, messy kiss, running his fingers through the brunette’s shaggy hair restlessly. Eren moans for him, curling his finger inside him and sliding it deep, more than making good use of the copious lube.

As he works a second finger into Marco, Eren nuzzles him lovingly, a warm smile crossing his lips just before he crooks his fingers up pointedly, drawing the tips over Marco’s prostate with practiced ease. Marco shivers and moans his name, his hips rocking, but Eren just resumes his steady thrusts with a quiet laugh. He figures Eren’ll get him back later for the prostate massage thing, at a point when Jean’s fully in possession of his brain again.

A warm hand slides up Marco’s trembling knee, making him jump slightly, but it’s just Jean moving closer again. He drags his knuckles lightly up Marco’s thigh, his touches almost maddeningly slow, until he’s pressing his thumb against the stretched ring of Marco’s entrance with a shaky sigh, rubbing there gently. Eren hums, spreading his fingers open and curving them again, before he shoots the blonde a crooked grin and bumps his knuckles against Jean’s.

Taking the hint, Jean moves on, trailing the tips of his fingers languidly up the soft join of Marco’s thigh. Marco shivers and tilts his head back with a breathy sigh, his hips shifting at the feather-light attention. Jean hums softly, then moves to press his palm against Marco’s half-hard cock with a low groan, earning a stuttering moan of his name.

Jean wraps his hand around Marco and strokes him loosely just as Eren starts working a third finger into him, his knuckles slipping through dripping lube as he thrusts them evenly. Between Eren’s steady preparation and his murmured praises, between Jean’s teasing strokes and the heat of his eyes on him, Marco trembles between them, panting their names and breathing little moans for them, his eyes squeezed shut, back arching slightly.

With a ragged chuckle, Jean strokes Marco a little tighter, closer to how the brunette likes it, but he lets his hand slip away after a few pulls, resting his palm on Marco’s stomach instead. Shivering, Marco blinks up at him again, eyebrows raised in question, and Jean smiles lazily and does it again just to be a tease. His hips rocking up for more, Marco murmurs his name and licks his lips, but Jean just tilts his head and repeats the motion, a spare few barely-sufficient strokes purely to drive Marco crazy.

“Every time you do that,” Eren rumbles, peering up at Jean, “He squeezes my fingers.” Burying his fingers deep, Eren turns and nudges his nose against Marco’s cheek, mumbling, “’S really hot.”

“Well then,” Jean hums, but before he can do it again, Marco leans his head back and whines shakily.

“You’re both teases,” he moans, bucking his hips back against Eren’s fingers. “I’ve b-been so nice to you, too.”

“Oh, I’m sure Jean’ll make it worth your while,” Eren chuckles. “Might not be walkin’ much tomorrow, though.”

Marco groans loudly and melts back against the sheets, raking a hand through his messy hair, before he squirms pointedly. “C’mon, I’m good.”

“I suppose so,” Eren sighs, thrusting his fingers quickly for a moment and humming at the easy slide, pausing to curl them up into Marco’s sweet spot once more before he slips them out entirely. He soothes Marco’s whimper with a few easy kisses, rubbing his slick fingers over his relaxed entrance, before he pulls away and sits up to grin at Jean. “All yours, baby. Don’t break him.”

Jean sighs and reaches over to pull Eren into another warm kiss, mumbling his thanks between the parting of their lips. Eren leans back to grab a condom, then tears the wrapper open with his teeth as he crawls closer to Jean. He rolls it onto the blonde’s arousal for him, brushing another soft kiss against his flushed lips as he does so. There’s still enough lube on his hand to slick the condom too, so he does, grinning teasingly while he gives him a few firm strokes, eating up the way Jean’s hips lean into his attention as he shakily grabs Eren’s waist.

Before his boyfriend can get any ideas, Eren kisses him again, warm and sweet and far too brief. Nudging his nose against Jean’s, he leans down to kiss Marco too, and then he crawls back up to the headboard to watch.

After Eren’s settled, he quirks an eyebrow at Jean, who had just been watching him move with a somewhat lost expression. The blonde shakes his head to clear it and runs his hands through his hair before he looks down at Marco again, giving him a lopsided smile. He holds his hands out to Marco, his fingers trembling slightly, and when Marco takes them, Jean pulls him upright and wraps his arms around his chest with a soft sigh.

“You good with this, love?” he asks quietly, leaning his forehead against Marco’s temple, his hands running gently up and down the brunette’s back. “I can just jack off and take a shower or something ‘f you don’t wanna deal with me.”

Marco laughs quietly, sliding his arms around Jean’s neck. “No one’s ‘dealing with you,’ Jean.” He turns and nudges the blonde into a soft kiss, scratching his nails through the shaved hair at the nape of his neck. “I know exactly how you get, and I called dibs with that in mind. I want this. If I can’t walk tomorrow, then that’ll be more reason for me to take a day off.”

Sighing slowly, Jean nods and hugs Marco gently, nuzzling his cheek. Marco hums contently and leans into his boyfriend’s shoulder, relaxing further as Jean continues to pet him.

“If you want me to slow down or stop—” Jean starts, before Marco squeezes his sides soothingly and nods.

“I’ll let you know, babe. You can trust me.”

Mumbling gratefully, Jean presses another few warm kisses to Marco’s ear before he blinks his dark eyes at Eren, who’d been watching them with a goofy little smile. Jean reaches out for him again, letting the brunette crawl back over to them with raised eyebrows before he pulls him in for more kisses. Eren smiles and leans into them, running his hand gently up Jean’s arm. Laughing quietly, Eren rests his forehead against Jean’s and murmurs, “You gettin’ all mushy, baby?”

“Just wanted to kiss you,” Jean replies, doing so a few more times. Eren lets him press in further with a snicker, his hands finding Jean’s cheeks, unable to keep himself from grinning between kisses at the way Jean leans into him and seeks his affection. After a moment, Jean takes a deep breath and rubs his cheek against Eren’s, getting himself together so he can mumble, “You know that goes for you too, right?”

“Hmm?”

Jean pulls back enough that he can make eye contact with Eren, curling his fingers into tangled hair and rubbing soothingly. “’F it’s too much for you, please tell me.”

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, Eren says, “I’m just watching,” at which Jean immediately shakes his head.

“Don’t care.” Jean tugs him in for another soft kiss, and Marco reaches back to squeeze Eren’s knee as well, firm and reassuring. “Whether you’re watching or helping, you’re just as much a part of this as we are. You get a say.”

Eren swallows audibly, blinking down at where Marco’s rubbing his thumb against the inside of his knee. “Y-you worry too much...”

“Maybe,” Marco hums, leaning his head back against Eren’s shoulder with a soft smile. “We just want you to know that we’re listening to you, darling.” Eren blinks down at him, flushing darker at the ridiculously tender warmth in the brunette’s eyes. “Even if it might not look too much like it.”

“God, you two are embarrassing,” Eren groans, leaning his head back. “Hard to believe Jean’s about to fuck you straight into next week, Jesus.”

“I’m okay with being embarrassing,” Jean murmurs, leaning in to brush his lips along the line of Eren’s jaw. “If it means letting you know you’re important to me.” He pulls Eren closer and nuzzles against the brunette’s flushed ear, then sighs, “I love you, Eren.”

Eren chokes slightly and squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arm tightly around Jean’s shoulders, before he buries his face in the blonde’s neck with a loud whine. “You suck, god, what kind of deviant sex monster are you?”

“The careful kind,” Marco laughs, pinching Eren’s knee playfully. “He’s right, though. Hands-on or not, you’re in this just as much as us, so your say matters too.” Eren turns his head and blinks at Marco again, visibly soothed by the way Jean’s scratching behind his ear and dragging kisses through his shaggy hair. Marco smiles up at him, squeezing his knee again, and says, “You matter.”

Flushing loudly, Eren swallows and nods, hiding his face in Jean’s shoulder again. His voice is muffled, but they still hear his mumbled, “Love you guys.” They return the sentiment between sweet kisses where they can reach, their hands gentle, soothing, until Eren gets too flustered by their careful attention and groans loudly.

“If you want,” Jean chuckles, reaching out to pinch the brunette’s ass as he scoots away again, “You can join in too. Or you can just watch. However you want.”

“Mm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Eren snorts, licking his lips teasingly once he’s settled. He quirks an eyebrow at the blonde as he runs his eyes over him, slow and hot, and Jean groans quietly when Eren shifts his thighs apart and reaches down to run the tips of his fingers up his still-soft cock.

Jean watches him for a moment, unconsciously leaning toward him, until Marco wraps a slick hand around his cock and draws his attention again. He blinks back down at Marco as he strokes him slowly, spreading fresh lube over the condom, and the brunette bites his lip around a smile as his free hand slips between his thighs. Groaning quietly, Jean grips Marco’s thighs and pushes them apart so he can watch his boyfriend slip two fingers inside himself, pushing them deep and spreading them apart.

“Fuck, Marco,” Jean breathes, leaning over him and ducking to catch his lips, his hips rocking into his boyfriend’s grip. He whines softly when Marco pulls his hands away, then leans up onto his hands, dazedly watching the brunette scoot closer and hook one leg around him.

“C’mon, baby.” Grinning widely, Marco licks his lips and arches up toward his boyfriend, but the thing that really gets under Jean’s skin is the way Marco reaches up and fists his hands loosely in the sheets above his head. Jean moans raggedly, sitting back to look him over with heated eyes, his hands trailing slowly down Marco’s ribs. Marco smiles coyly and wiggles his hips, his thighs spread wide and tempting, his cock flushed and half-hard where it’s resting against his soft stomach.

It apparently takes Jean’s fried brain a little too long to process the tempting image laid out before him, because Marco arches his back and sighs, then rolls his hips up toward Jean again, squirming impatiently in the sheets.

“Jean,” he whispers, his fingers tightening in the sheets, “You gonna give me what I need, love?”

His breath hitching, Jean’s eyes glaze over slightly, his hands pressing against the insides of Marco’s thighs. “M-Marco,” he murmurs, his shaking voice meant as a sort of warning, but the brunette smiles and licks his lips anyway, having already more than reassured Jean that he’s fine.

Jean nods slowly as he looks Marco over again, his fingers gripping soft flesh tightly, before he finally spreads his knees and moves right between Marco’s perfect thighs. Humming contently, Marco makes himself comfortable, pulling his knees back slightly to make his boyfriend’s life easier. Jean braces one hand low on Marco’s hip, more for his own sake than anything else, and with an encouraging wiggle from Marco, he finally, finally steadies his cock and presses into him.

Leaning his head back with a stuttered moan, Jean rolls his hips forward slowly, pressing deeper into the brunette’s tight heat with every easy movement. Beneath him, Marco’s eyes flutter closed as he arches slightly and moans, shivering as Jean slides into him.

His head dropping forward, Jean leans over Marco and bottoms out with a smooth thrust, his hands fisting in the sheets on either side of the brunette. He grinds deeper with a little whimper, blinking up at Marco to make sure he’s okay, but Marco’s apparently doing just fine, based on the wide, lazy smile spread across his pretty face. Jean reaches up and drags his thumb across Marco’s cheek, catching his bleary gaze after a moment.

“Feels good, Jean,” Marco murmurs, relaxing back into the sheets. Jean nods vaguely, shifting his thumb to the corner of the brunette’s lips. His grin widening, Marco turns and presses a warm kiss to the pad of Jean’s thumb, following it up with a quick flicker of his tongue, almost too brief to catch. Jean does, though, and he grinds forward again as he exhales shakily, pressing his thumb against the seam of Marco’s lips.

With a hum, Marco parts his lips and lets Jean press into his mouth with a ragged moan, his heavy cock twitching inside him at this bare attention. Marco turns his head and nips playfully at the tip of Jean’s thumb, soothing the feeling with his soft tongue.

Thoroughly rattled, Jean gasps Marco’s name as he falls forward and tilts the brunette’s chin toward him again, catching his lips in a needy kiss as his hips start rocking brainlessly. Marco hums warmly, sliding his tongue between Jean’s lips, and he rocks his hips up to meet Jean’s so easily that it has the blonde gasping for him, trying to press deeper.

“C’mon, Jean,” Marco breathes between messy kisses, squeezing around Jean’s cock just to drive him crazy. “I want you, baby, please?” Jean whines softly, desperately seeking more kisses, one hand falling to grip the brunette’s side as he grinds forward again. “Please, Jean,” Marco continues, arching his back and letting his head fall back with a soft moan, “Please give it to me?”

“Marco,” Jean chokes out, both hands now digging into Marco’s soft sides, his fingers leaving pale marks in the brunette’s smooth skin. He shivers out his name again, ducking his head into Marco’s exposed throat, and when he sinks his teeth into the crook of his neck with a cracked moan, Marco murmurs his approval and squeezes around him again, circling his hips up against Jean’s.

Jean pants against Marco’s throat as he grinds helplessly into the brunette’s slow movements, gripping him tighter, before he shifts and mouths hot and wet up Marco’s throat. As Marco arches into the sensation, his arms tensing and his head leaning back eagerly, he opens his eyes to check on Eren, who’s watching them with hazy eyes and slowly sliding his hands across the insides of his own thighs. Flustered at being caught, Eren flushes dark and fists his hands slightly, but Marco just shoots him a warm, encouraging grin, biting his lip lightly.

Knowing he has both of his boyfriends’ undivided attention, Marco works them both over a little bit, his eyes shuttering closed again as he tilts his head aside for Jean’s mouth, a soft moan slipping from his flushed lips. He rocks up insistently, his cock brushing Jean’s tense stomach, and as he starts squeezing and riding back against his boyfriend, he moans his name quietly, another little plea coloring the humid air.

“I know you wanna move, baby,” he whispers, licking his lips slowly. “C’mon, Jean, I need it, please?” Moaning helplessly, Jean shifts his harsh grip to the insides of Marco’s thighs again, his fingers digging in and spreading him open completely, pinning him to the bed. His hips are still grinding, still far insufficient, so Marco whines and pleads, “Don’t hold back, Jean, make me scream for you, please...”

“M-Marco,” Jean mumbles, dragging his wet, sloppy kisses up over the angle of the brunette’s jaw, across his cheek. “M-Marco, ‘m n-not gonna be able to keep it together, f-feels too good.” Breathing a hitched moan, Jean murmurs Marco’s name between kisses, between rough, brainless nuzzles. “’M gonna l-lose it, baby...”

“Lose it for me, then,” Marco replies, biting his lip and squeezing tight around Jean, doing the best he can to break what’s left of the blonde’s self-control. “Fuck me, Jean, I want you so bad—”

Interrupting with a choked whine, Jean ducks back into Marco’s neck and bites, his teeth sinking into sensitive skin and holding tightly as he grabs firm, brainless handfuls of his thighs. He snaps his hips against Marco’s, not so much thrusting as he is trying to press deeper, to get closer. Marco shivers and moans his name encouragingly, letting Jean hold him down with his hands and his teeth, arching up to offer more of himself to his boyfriend.

Jean lets up with his teeth and drags his tongue over the sharp indentations they’d left behind with a ragged groan, his breath and his lips forming soft sounds that don’t quite come together as words. Swallowing audibly, Jean nuzzles Marco’s throat again as he presses his thighs harder against the sheets. He mumbles something that Marco doesn’t catch, but his meaning comes across loud and clear even without coherence.

‘Stay.’

Marco nods quickly, stuttering out his compliance, so Jean lets go of him and soothes his palms across the starkly flushed indentations his shaking grip had left behind. He moves his hands instead to the sheets on either side of Marco’s hips, fisting them there to give him the leverage he needs, before he butts his nose against the brunette’s jaw to get him to turn his head more, to show him more of his throat.

Pausing to drag the flat of his tongue up Marco’s neck, Jean nuzzles beneath his chin and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the brunette’s Adam’s apple, flicking his tongue across it as Marco swallows and writhes beneath him, his breath panting out in impatient little moans. He squeezes around Jean again, desperate for more than the blonde’s rough grinding, and the feeling draws a low, ragged growl out of Jean’s throat, rumbling hot against Marco’s pulse.

He squeaks slightly at the sound, his body tensing under Jean’s, before Jean nips sharply at his pulse again and groans quietly.

“J-Jean,” Marco grits out, “Fuck me, come on!”

Jean breathes a ragged sigh against the hollow of Marco’s throat, giving him a particularly rough buck of his hips and a sharp bite beneath his collarbones, before he eases his shaking hips back further, pulling back finally. Marco’s breath hitches in anticipation, his teeth finding his lip, but Jean pulls back too far, his cock slipping out of him entirely. Marco’s brow furrows and he groans his displeasure, bucking his hips up insistently with a hoarse curse, his patience stretched dangerously thin.

As he leans up again, enough to watch his boyfriend squirm and glare at him, Jean moves one of his hands to Marco’s stomach, his fingers splaying there and pressing him back against the sheets. Marco huffs, but he complies, letting his body settle against the bed, and before he can complain, Jean’s shifting forward again, and when he thrusts back into Marco, he does so hard, ramming into him all at once, their hips slapping loudly, and he doesn’t waste any more time.

Without pause for breath, Jean pounds his cock into Marco, jolting his body in the sheets, his eyes burning across the brunette’s arching, writhing body as he hammers into him. Marco’s back arches tight, his fingers yanking at the sheets above his head as he wails Jean’s name, his thighs shaking hard and his breath loud and fast, falling apart more the faster Jean fucks into him.

Jean moans for Marco in return, his voice breathless, his eyes rolling closed as his head drops, putting every ounce of pent-up strength he has into railing his cock deeper, fucking louder sounds out of his squirming boyfriend. He moves his hands to Marco’s hips and braces his weight there, pinning him to the sheets to keep him from moving, either from the force of Jean’s thrusts or from his own desperate writhing and arching.

His head thrown back, Marco squeezes his eyes shut and cries out for him, his body trying to move up against Jean’s strength and failing. The restraint just drives him wilder, his stomach tensing and his spine curving off the sheets, his voice echoing around them as it cracks and wavers. His face twisted in desperate, flushed pleasure, Marco writhes in the sheets and demands more, filthy, brainless orders for harder, harder, fuck me, come on.

Somewhere around them, the headboard’s slamming against the wall almost deafeningly, but neither of them particularly care. Jean shifts his weight and fucks Marco harder, driving his hips forward as hard as he can, as fast as he can, digging his nails into soft flesh as his hands start slipping in their sweat to keep his grip. He leans over him more and moans for him, loud and breathy, but Marco still overpowers him in volume, especially once he’s pulled his knees toward his chest and spread himself back further.

If he had the brains, Jean would ask Marco if that was it, if that felt good, but all he can manage are overwhelmed whines of the brunette’s name as he spreads his own knees wider, trying to get the right angle. His efforts aren’t unappreciated, but as Marco bucks and pulls at the sheets and curses, he’s still frustrated, still searching for more, not quite fulfilled enough by Jean’s attention.

Sitting up quickly, Jean hooks his hands under Marco’s knees and grips tightly, pausing in his thrusting just long enough to bend the brunette in half. He pins Marco’s knees to the sheets and leans his weight into him, leaning over him more, and when he spreads his knees and rams his cock into him, he shifts his angle some more, and that’s it.

Marco arches tight under him, his body shaking and his hips snapping up into Jean’s movements, and there’s a brief pause where he chokes on his breath before he’s screaming, his hands flying to Jean’s tense shoulders so he can claw at them without restraint. Jean gasps for him and bucks his hips harder, railing into him as best he can, but Marco’s tight, so tight, so hot and perfect squeezing around him, and the feeling threatens to rob Jean of his senses entirely.

His nails digging raw tracks down Jean’s arms, Marco does his best to move with him, but at this point the only thing on his mind is more, Jean’s rhythm be damned. He moves his hips to the harsh, desperate demands of his body, every muscle tensing harder, and the overwhelming need driving his every movement overpowers everything else. Luckily Jean feels so good, so amazing fucking him like this, hard and heavy and so deep it aches, every thrust pulling Jean’s cock too far back before splitting him open again. He’s incredible and Marco wants more, his body craving Jean’s roughness, but he can’t quite form the words to beg, so he just writhes in the sheets and cries out with every frantic thrust.

As the brunette falls apart for him, Jean moans Marco’s name, his head leaned back and his voice loud and shaky, his insufficient panting breath making him even dizzier. He fucks him deeper, their hips slapping loudly in his efforts to get closer, closer, desperate for as much of Marco as he can get and more.

Through his brainless haze, Jean hears another sound, so he opens his eyes and forces them to focus on Eren, still spread out at the head of the bed, and the sight of him makes Jean’s head spin. Eren’s moaning breathlessly and fucking his hand so perfectly, fresh red scratches from his own nails running up the insides of his pretty thighs, and when he catches Jean staring, he spreads his thighs wider as his lips part on an inviting whimper. His vision blurring, Jean gasps for him and tries to keep watching, but between Eren’s squirming and Marco’s screaming, Jean’s on the edge before he realizes what’s happening, right on the brink of orgasm without the willpower to do anything to stop it.

Jean stammers Eren’s name, his rhythm falling apart into brainless desperation as the world spins out of control, his voice only growing louder when Marco claws fresh marks down his arms in painful, perfect little sparks. The feeling is enough, just enough to shock words into his dry mouth, so he drives his cock harder into Marco and moans, “G-gonna come, gonna—c-c-come, Marco!”

The cry Marco lets out in return is rough, cracked, more like a growl than anything else, somewhere between a plea and a threat, but there’s nothing else Jean can do. He repeats the words over and over, slurred and formless, until he’s coming with a jolt, his head thrown back on a loud, desperate cry.

His orgasm storms through him violently, leaving him quaking and moaning as his hips snap brutally into Marco in time to the pulses of lightning flashing behind his eyes. He slams forward twice, three times more, his body spasming and overwhelmed, but Marco’s so good, so fucking amazing around him that somehow it’s still not enough.

Rather than slow down, try to catch his breath, Jean lets his head drop forward as he speeds up again, whimpering and chasing that feeling, completely powerless against the way Marco’s squeezing him. The brunette arches and moans his appreciation, his stomach coated in precome dripping from his twitching, flushed cock, aching and begging for attention.

One of Marco’s hands flies up and fists in Jean’s hair as the other wraps tight around himself, his wrist moving desperately as he twists and bucks as best he can, taking everything he can get from his overwhelmed boyfriend as he strokes himself hard and fast, squeezing almost too tight. He squirms and cries Jean’s name, his pulse hammering in his ears and blocking out all sound, and he’s hot and his body aches from tensing but it’s building, heat flooding through him and washing out everything but there there there.

When he comes, he stutters out a cracked wail of Jean’s name, his strokes too hard and his body too hot and Jean’s thrusts too rough, but everything’s good, so good, so perfect that it’s almost painful when he twists beneath Jean again and clamps down around his cock, trying to hold it deep inside of him. His voice shakes as he cries out again and again, each slamming thrust driving him higher, hitting him better, and even though he’s aching and covered in come and oversensitive, Marco really doesn’t want Jean to stop.

He tears his hand away from his twitching, soaked cock and reaches around to grab Jean’s ass as best he can reach in this position, his fingers digging in and encouraging him further. Jean leans into the hand still fisted in his hair with a stuttering moan before he collapses onto Marco, his hips still moving hard, pounding his cock deep, and when he buries his face in his boyfriend’s neck, Marco hears his brainless whimpers shaping words.

“’S good, ‘s good, feels good,” Jean repeats against his skin, shaking violently from the overstimulation, but he can’t bring himself to stop just yet, not when it feels this good, this fucking heavenly. He’s still hard, still achingly hard inside Marco, and his cock spasms with every deep thrust. Marco shifts beneath him, raking his hands through Jean’s tangled hair, but rather than push Jean away, he pulls him closer and moans his approval against his ear, demanding more of him.

Jean wraps his arms under Marco’s thighs and clings to them in the guise of folding the brunette in half, mouthing brainlessly at his neck, his jaw, whatever Marco will allow him as he snaps his hips into him. His head’s swimming, and he has no idea what he’s searching for, but it feels too good to stop now. Marco’s squirming and panting and arching under him, his body tight and perfect, taking Jean’s cock to the hilt with every mindless, slamming thrust.

Marco’s come spreads between their chests like this, but neither of them care much about that. Marco’s much more focused on the way Jean’s filling him up, but even so, his hips are starting to ache from being bent in half for so long and his ass is starting to sting from Jean’s hips slapping against him. He wonders vaguely if it’ll bruise, and the idea sends his mind reeling again, arousal sparking through him under the burn of too much pleasure. Arching his back, Marco whines Jean’s name and squeezes the back of his neck, his toes curling in the air as he wriggles pointedly, trying to get his boyfriend’s attention.

Dragging his lips along the line of Marco’s jaw, Jean tries to pay attention to his boyfriend, panting out little whimpers as he rocks deep into him. He blinks up at him, his eyes completely unfocused before he shakes his head roughly, trying to take possession of his own damn body again. His hips keep moving, though, shaking to get closer, to hold Marco tighter, and Marco doesn’t seem to mind the feeling.

“J-Jean,” he gasps, his hands pressing firmly to Jean’s flushed, sweaty face. “Jean. T-turn me over, baby, d-d-don’t s-stop...”

Jean chokes out a moan that’s both overwhelmed and appreciative, his eyes squeezing shut again as his hips rock harder, his weight bending Marco further. Marco hisses quietly, though, and he presses one hand right against Jean’s face and pushes. Jean gets the picture and slithers back, his breath stuttering out in a mournful groan when his cock slides out of Marco, away from his tight heat, and Marco’s voice echoes the feeling.

Moving quickly, Marco bucks out of Jean’s grip and quickly rolls onto his stomach, and when he looks up, he sees Eren, flushed and sweaty and so pretty with his thighs spread and two fingers now thrusting quickly into his ass. Eren gasps and bucks into his own hands when Marco gapes up at him, his free hand stroking his thick cock quickly, before he whimpers Marco’s name and curls his fingers deeper.

Before Jean can slide back into him, Marco shakes his head quickly and jolts away from the blonde’s hands, changing his mind again. He rolls onto his side then, reaching down to tug insistently at Jean’s knee until Jean gets the picture and straddles Marco’s thigh. He bends Marco’s other knee up again and hooks it over his arm, leaving him spread open for him once more. As Jean scoots closer and leans over Marco on his hands, he looks down for long enough to line himself up again before he snaps his hips and whines Marco’s name, burying his cock deep inside him once more.

His back arching, Marco wiggles back against Jean as much as he can in this position, panting unevenly and shaking from the feeling. He writhes in the sheets as Jean starts thrusting again, trying to angle himself to get what he needs from him. As brainless as he is, Jean works with him, spreading his knees and turning his hips slightly, and when they find the right angle again, Marco melts against the sheets with a loud, wavering moan.

Jean picks up his pace with a stuttered whine, squeezing his eyes shut. Beneath him, Marco bites his lip and gasps, but he gets himself together again and looks back up to Eren, reaching for him with a pleading little whimper of his name.

Eren scrambles down the bed once beckoned, quick to wriggle right into Marco’s arms, and as he wraps himself around the brunette, he kisses him desperately, clinging tightly to him and rubbing his soaked cock against him. Marco pulls Eren closer and moans against his lips, shaking from Jean’s quick thrusts, before he nudges Eren’s head back and mouths down his sweat-slick throat, his hands pawing at whatever dark skin they can reach.

“M-Marco,” Eren gasps, tilting his head back and arching into Marco. “B-baby, p-please—”

Marco leans up and kisses Eren again, nuzzling him brainlessly and petting him and whimpering his name, but Eren just trembles and groans, his hips rocking frantically. He catches one of Marco’s hands and squeezes his wrist, and then he hitches his thigh up and guides the brunette’s fingers to his entrance with a wavering moan, wordlessly begging for him. Marco slides his other arm under Eren’s narrow waist and hauls him closer, clinging tightly to him, before he presses his fingers against his boyfriend with a shuddering moan.

Above them, Jean’s shoulders are visibly shaking, but he’s still thrusting mindlessly, watching his boyfriends hold each other and moan into each other, and when Marco slips two fingers inside Eren with a stuttering gasp, Jean feels the familiar sparks of urgent pleasure snapping through his system. He bites his lip and thrusts faster, unable to tear his eyes away from the way Eren shakes hard and cries out for Marco, his body twitching and arching for more.

“Marco,” Eren pleads, “M-Marco, the thing, d-do the thing, please I need to c-come—”

Groaning raggedly, Marco leans into Eren’s throat and sinks his teeth into his thundering pulse, sucking a dark mark into the soft skin of his neck as he works a third finger into Eren, thrusting them as quickly as he can for a moment. He pauses and moans as he sloppily drags his tongue over his mark, and then he sinks his teeth into Eren’s shoulder and curls his fingers into his sweet spot.

Eren twitches and whines, bucking into the feeling, so Marco presses deeper and crooks his fingers harder, presses firm, slow circles against Eren’s prostate without letting up. He hears Eren choking on his stuttering breath, his pretty thighs trembling and spreading as best they can, his hips rocking minutely as his fingers grip Marco’s shoulders tightly, and as Eren’s body starts shaking harder, his chest hitches in little gasps and his cock twitches hard and his mouth falls open.

Marco leans out of his boyfriend’s neck just in time to watch Eren fall apart, his voice trailing out in a weak little keen before his hips start rocking faster, picking up desperate speed as pleasure wracks his body in time to Marco’s fingertips as they rub against his sweet spot. Eren manages to find his voice, too, just in time for him to cry Marco’s name, noisy and shaky and so perfect as he comes between them, jolts and little spasms wracking his wiry body from Marco’s attention. He tightens around his fingers, coaxing a ragged moan out of Marco, before he leans into his boyfriend and clings to him, his voice dripping out in wrecked little pleas.

Having mercy, Marco eases his fingers out of Eren slowly, his free hand sliding up to comb through his sweaty hair. He holds Eren tight and kisses his cheek, his shoulder, his ear, murmuring hoarse praises to him while the brunette comes down. Jean watches them with hazy eyes, his hips still barely rocking into Marco, having been entirely distracted by Eren. Marco turns and smiles lazily up at him, his hands still moving over Eren’s pretty skin, but he tilts his hips enough that Jean can see how hard he is again.

With a weak whimper, Jean bites his lip and picks up his pace again, his eyes squeezing closed at the overwhelming pleasure wracking his quaking body. He gasps Marco’s and Eren’s names both as he snaps his hips into Marco, every thrust sending him farther into the territory of too much. Marco moans beneath him, though, and as he leans heavily against Eren, the brunette comes to himself enough to reach down and rest his hand gently over Marco’s cock.

Bucking up into the feeling, Marco arches and keens, trying not to grip his boyfriend too hard as he clings to him. Eren purrs contently, though, nuzzling his face against Marco’s and rubbing his palm over him, careful and gentle and loving in his affection. Marco melts under the attention, his back arching feebly, before Eren shifts his hand and drags his nails along the slick join of Marco’s thigh.

“What d’you need, sweetheart?” Eren asks, his fingers exploring slowly, his voice low and rough and perfectly fucked-out in Marco’s ear. “You wanna come?”

Nodding quickly, Marco swallows and paws at Eren’s waist, desperate for his contact. Eren leans up on his elbow and glances them over, sparing Jean a crooked grin where the blonde’s just barely keeping himself from just passing out. He smiles down at Marco again as he loosely wraps his fingers around his cock, careful not to hurt him. Marco moans his name and squirms feebly, squeezing tight around Jean.

“Want me to get a condom, baby?” Eren murmurs, curling his free fingers under Marco’s chin so he can tilt him up for a kiss. Marco pants against him, his brow furrowed in confusion. Luckily, Eren understands, brushing their lips together again as he breathes, “You wanna put this inside me while Jean fucks the come outta you?”

Jean’s hips snap roughly at the question, his own voice shivering out somewhat pathetically before he gets it together again, keeping his deep, brainless thrusts to some semblance of a rhythm. He leans up in anticipation of Marco’s answer, watching their boyfriend struggle to breathe. After a moment, Marco nods frantically, moaning his approval.

As Eren nods and moves up to grab another condom, Jean sits back on his heels and pulls Marco’s knee across, gently rolling the brunette onto his back again. He shifts around and coaxes Marco into hooking his trembling legs around his waist, grinding deep into him for a moment while they adjust, before he wraps his hands around Marco’s hips and starts thrusting into him again.

Marco leans his head back to watch for Eren, already reaching for him when the brunette crawls over to them again. Grinning widely, Eren tears the condom open and tosses the wrapper aside, and as he rolls it on over Marco’s twitching cock with gentle hands, he leans up to catch Jean’s lips, flicking his tongue between them with a hum. Whimpering for him, Jean presses one hand against Eren’s cheek, his hips stuttering slightly when the brunette nibbles on his flushed lip.

Pulling away with another playful nip, Eren checks the condom, then straddles Marco’s stomach with a lazy sigh, tilting his head with a crooked grin when Marco gasps his name and grips his hips in shaking hands. Reaching behind himself, Eren steadies his boyfriend’s cock and wastes no time in sinking back onto it, already relaxed enough to slide right down onto him with a shivering moan.

Jean squeaks out a startled whimper when Marco squeezes him tight, leaning his head against Eren’s shoulder with a loud whine. Helpless, he moves faster, moaning with every deep thrust, but Marco doesn’t let up around him.

Eren bites his lip and gasps at the way Marco arches beneath him, his hands squeezing and pawing frantically. Marco’s struggling to breathe, gasping and panting and pleading brainlessly, completely overwhelmed by Eren’s tight heat around him. Jean’s struggling just as much, his arms now wrapped tight around Eren’s waist, pulling him back so he can cling to him while he slams his cock into Marco.

When Eren braces his knees, he reaches back and tangles his hand in Jean’s hair, and when he lifts his hips, Marco arches up after him with a loud, pleading moan. Whispering soothingly, Eren rests his other hand on Marco’s tense stomach, but he keeps moving, riding him slow and easy and tight and perfect, and Marco really doubts he’s ever come so hard in his entire life.

He’s arched off the bed again, his hands gripping Eren tight and holding him onto his cock, and he uses what leverage he can find by digging his heels into the sheets to pound up into Eren as he comes, his ragged screams loud and shaky and breathy in the air around them. There’s barely any rhythm to his writhing, not beyond his body’s frantic effort to get as much of his boyfriends as he can. He’s trapped somewhere between riding harder onto Jean’s cock and thrusting deeper into Eren, lost between the two and desperate for both, his ears ringing and his heart slamming into his ribs and his body rattling from the sensation, completely robbing him of any coherence.

Somewhere above him, Jean’s coming too, his hips grinding deep as he presses his breathy, broken sounds against Eren’s neck, his arms almost crushingly tight around his boyfriend. Eren obliges him, though, and he pets him gently and tells him he loves him as Jean chokes out pathetic little sobs of Eren’s name.

As Marco finally loses strength, he collapses beneath them and trembles, panting heavily and shaking violently. He can’t quite bring himself to open his eyes yet, so he doesn’t, instead anchoring himself with the feeling of his hands on Eren’s thighs.

Eren blinks between his boyfriends, still somewhat fuzzy in the brains from his own orgasm, but nothing even approaching how broken Jean and Marco seem to be. Shifting gently, Eren eases himself off of Marco’s cock, as carefully as he can to not cause his boyfriend undue misery. Even as gentle as he is, Marco still whimpers and bucks beneath him, overstimulated to the extreme and obviously in need of affection.

First things first, though, Eren climbs off of him and turns to Jean, chuckling in the blonde’s ear when Jean leans into him the entire time. He presses his hand against Jean’s stomach and coaxes him into pulling out of Marco, quick to grab the base of the condom when it starts sliding.

“Christ, you two,” Eren groans, laughing as Marco and Jean both try to pull him closer. “You’re like the walking dead. Can you cooperate for me?”

It takes some sweet-talking, but Eren manages to coax them into behaving long enough for him to take their condoms and throw them away, then give them a brief wipe-down with some wet paper towels. That’s about all he can manage in terms of clean-up, though, before Marco’s reaching for him again, mumbling pleas for attention.

Eren ends up sandwiched between his zombie boyfriends, snickering to himself as he pets them both. He doesn’t really have it in him to tease them, though, not when it takes them the better part of an hour and a mountain of affection and ‘I love you’s for them to come out of it.

Chapter Text

It’s not like they don’t know that there’s something a little... off about Eren sometimes. Jean and Marco may have been blind for a decade, but they’ve resolved to keep their eyes and ears and hearts open this time, and they’re doing better than Eren could have ever hoped for.

Which means that all the places he used to hide his pain, all his tense shrugs and flat, crooked smiles don’t quite work on them anymore.

With their eyes open now, of course they see the way Eren shies away from the click of a lighter, the way his teeth dig into his lip whenever he turns down a beer or a joint, the way his gaze falls to the floor for the briefest moment when one of their friends makes an off-color joke.

They’re also growing more and more aware of the fact that sometime in late college, Eren had vanished off the face of the earth for a good few years. Like he was there, and then suddenly he just wasn’t, and every trace of him slipped away into some deep, dark crack in the road.

Neither Jean nor Marco really know how to break that ice, but they’ve gotten good at avoiding certain topics of conversation.

It’s not always something as obvious as talk, though. It’s just something in the air Eren breathes, something in the way his muscles tense sometimes, or the way his eye twitches just slightly. It’s something in the way Eren curls in on himself on the rare days where he’s too quiet, too still for too long, curling and curling until he’s so tiny he’s ceased to exist, at least until someone talks to him. It’s something in the way neither of them can really bring themselves to be rough with him, not unless he specifically asks for it. Something in the way his skin warms under their hands that says take it easy, take it slow. Be gentle.

Figuring Eren out is an ongoing process, and sometimes figuring out how he ticks takes careful observation.

Still, the thing they noticed first and the thing that’s still the most obvious to them is the way Eren spaces out sometimes, like he’s retreating into his own head, hidden in a corner of his mind until he’s safe again.

--

“So,” Hitch says conversationally, popping her gum. “How long have you two been with Eren?”

Jean’s coffee goes straight up his nose.

“W-what?”

Hitch rolls her sharp eyes and flicks her gaze back to her brother. A few tables away, Marco and Eren are both raising their eyebrows at the blonde as he coughs up a lung in the middle of the campus Starbucks, just out of earshot of Jean and Hitch’s previously boring conversation about their mom’s upcoming birthday.

“Please, little brother,” she huffs, leaning back and crossing her arms over her bony chest. “I know you like the back of my hand.”

Grumbling loudly, Jean rakes his hands through his hair and stares at the smiley face drawn on his cup while he tries to make up an excuse. It’d probably be easier if he wasn’t really fucking tired of keeping Eren in the closet, but they haven’t had that conversation yet, so he tries. “He’s... our roommate.”

Hitch stares, one thin eyebrow slowly rising. Jean tries not to squirm. Damn Hitch and her Big Sister Gaze.

“You know, at first I thought you were cheating on Marco with him,” she says, crossing her legs. “But that’s not like you, so I watched a little closer. Not like I have to, Christ, look at them.”

Jean does. Now that Hitch points it out, maybe the googly couple vibe around Eren and Marco is a little on the strong side. It warms Jean’s chest to watch them together, all cute smiles and soft laughter. Still, Hitch raises a good point.

“Anyway, I figured there’s no way Marco would cheat on you, let alone with the same person, so the only option left was a little happy polyamory action. Good on you.”

It’s never done any good to lie to Hitch. She’s got the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox, for god’s sake. Jean sighs and slumps back into his chair, then mumbles, “A year come August.”

“Wow, a year?” Hitch pops her gum again. “And he’s still your hairy little secret?”

“It’s not like I’m happy about it,” Jean groans, scrubbing his hands down his face. “It’s... complicated.”

“Fair.” With a sigh, Hitch stands again, throwing her empty cup in a nearby trash can. “Hey, you guys want a ride home?”

“Uhhh, I’m done for the day,” Jean says as he stands, “But let me check with them.”

--

They’ve barely been in the car for three minutes when it happens.

“Oh,” Hitch blurts, reaching over to swat Jean’s shoulder in the passenger seat. “I almost forgot, Uncle Junkie relapsed again, so try not to bring him up in front of Mom next weekend.”

Jean raises his eyebrows. “What, again? I thought he was in a program.”

“He was. Bailed.”

Clicking his tongue, Jean looks back out the window as he runs his hand through his hair. “He knows what that does to Mom... shit.”

The conversation drops and the radio fills the heavy silence, and neither Hitch nor Jean look into the backseat, so they don’t notice.

Marco does, though.

Almost the moment the slur had left Hitch’s lips, Eren’s hands had twitched in his lap and his eyes had widened. Then, just as quickly, he was gone.

For the rest of the ride home, Eren stares at his lap, his gaze dark and vacant and his fingers fiddling with the edge of his shirt. There’s no subtle way for Marco to check on him, but he kind of doesn’t really care whether or not Hitch knows, so he leans over and touches Eren’s wrist to try and get his attention.

It doesn’t work.

--

This isn’t the first time Marco’s seen Eren space out, not by a long shot, but this is the deepest he’s ever seen him go and the longest he’s been gone.

Hitch drops them off outside their building twenty minutes later, and Eren climbs the stairs to their floor in a daze, followed closely by Marco, who’s literally worried himself sick, and Jean, who’s quickly catching on to the fact that something is wrong.

At the top of the stairs, Marco catches Eren’s elbow gently and ducks his head to try again to get his attention. “Hey, Eren?”

Shaking his head slightly, Eren blinks the haze away before he looks up at Marco. “Yeah?”

“What’s wrong, love?” Marco shifts to stand in front of Eren, resting his hands on his cheeks. Eren twists away, though, restlessly glancing up the hallway in search of witnesses.

“Sorry,” he laughs, the sound hollow like tin and painfully fake. “Just tired.”

As Eren turns and moves to unlock their apartment door, Marco stares after him, his hands shaking, face pale. He knows something’s wrong. He’s also entirely sure that Eren isn’t going to tell him what it is.

Jean rests his hand on Marco’s waist as he walks by, his brow furrowed in concern. They scoot into the apartment after him, but before they can say anything, Eren runs his hands through his hair and tells the wall beside them that he’s going to take a shower. His voice is controlled, designed to sound casual, accompanied by the kind of crooked smile he’s been hiding behind for years.

Still, they nod, and he slides into the bedroom looking tinier than they’ve seen him in years.

“When?” Jean asks immediately, moving to set his bag on his desk chair.

Marco wrings his hands by the door, then crosses to collapse onto the couch, peering into the bedroom after Eren before he responds. “In the car, when Hitch mentioned your uncle.”

Agitatedly running his hands through his hair, Jean glances into the bedroom as well.

Eren’s known about Jean’s uncle for years, as has Marco. It wasn’t exactly a big secret when Jim Church up and ran away one Christmas almost twenty years ago, leaving his wife Marie and his son Farlan behind with no explanation whatsoever. Everyone had assumed that he was dead, and when they finally found him a few months later and a few states over, he probably should have been.

Meth, Jean’s mom had finally told him almost a decade later. On and off again for years and years. He’d really seemed like he was going to clean up this time.

Eren knew all this. He practically had courtside seats to the whole affair, especially when Jim relapsed for the third time when Jean was 16 and the tension in his family was too much for him to bear. He’d spent nearly the entire summer bouncing between Marco’s and Eren’s couches so he didn’t have to see his mom crying all the time.

Unable to keep still, Jean paces behind the couch, Marco’s wide eyes following him the whole time. “I don’t get it,” he mumbles eventually, stopping to lean down onto the back of the couch. “It’s nothing new, as shitty as that sounds.”

“We’ll just have to ask him,” Marco replies, idly chewing his thumbnail.

“What if he doesn’t tell us?”

Sighing quietly, Marco reaches up and scratches his nails through Jean’s undercut, looking just as distressed. “We have to give him space.”

“I know that.”

“I know you know, love.” He leans forward and kisses Jean’s stubbly cheek, then continues, “You know pressing him only makes it worse, too. We just have to trust him.”

“I know.” Jean lets his head drop, grumbling under his breath before he stands up again and drags his palm over his unshaven cheek. “I know, I know, I just... wish I could help.”

Marco gives him a tiny, sad smile. “Me too.”

Groaning again, Jean shakes his head and says, “I’m gonna go shave, shit’s driving me crazy.”

“Jean—”

“I won’t,” the blonde interrupts, reaching over to trace his knuckles down Marco’s cheek. “I’m just gonna shave. No bullying.”

“... Okay.” Marco turns and presses a soft kiss into Jean’s palm. He knows that Jean’s impatient, and Eren’s hesitance to trust them with the big, obvious elephant in his life drives the blonde absolutely insane.

Still, as skittish as Eren is, they both know that it’s better to wait for him. If he’s not ready to talk about it, it’s not worth it to squeeze it out of him. It’s not worth the risk of him spooking and running away.

Jean leans down and kisses Marco warmly, giving him a gentle, reassuring nuzzle, before he turns and wanders through their bedroom toward the bathroom.

The door’s open and the shower’s running, but Jean still knocks tentatively before he enters. “Hey, can I shave?”

“’S your house too,” Eren replies, his casual tone a little less forced, a little more like himself.

Rolling his eyes, Jean pulls his shirt off and crosses to the sink.

As Jean shaves and Eren finishes up in the shower, they don’t talk, but the silence isn’t terribly awkward. Not as awkward as it could be, at any rate. When Eren turns the water off and steps out, Jean watches him roughly towel his hair off, the rest of him still dripping freely onto the bath mat.

In any other instance, wet Eren would be more than enough to get Jean going. Now, though, remembering how out of it he’d been...

Jean leans his hip against the sink and crosses his arms as he watches Eren dry himself off, tongue poked out as he goes, before he throws his towel back on the rack and slides into the loose basketball shorts he’d brought in. He blinks up at Jean once he’s done, raising his eyebrows at the blonde’s unwavering stare.

“See something you like?”

“You know I do,” Jean murmurs, reaching his hand out for Eren. The warm grin spreading across the brunette’s face sets his heart at ease for now, but when Eren leans up to kiss him, Jean still keeps it light. He drags his thumb across his boyfriend’s cheek as he kisses him slowly, lovingly, breathing a soft hum when Eren’s hands come to rest on his narrow waist.

Pulling back with one last tiny kiss, Jean catches Eren’s eyes and asks, “You okay?”

Eren swallows quietly, then gives an unconvincing nod. “I’m fine,” he says, his words followed by a flurry of microscopic shifts in his body language, and every little tic that Jean’s learned to read like a book shows loud and clear.

He says he’s fine, but the way his gaze ticks to the left says ‘this hurts.’ The way his teeth snag his lip says ‘I can’t talk about this yet.’ The way his hand finds Jean’s practically screams ‘please don’t leave.’

Jean’s always been better at communicating silently than with his words, so he nods in his way that says he knows what Eren means, and he twines their fingers tight and slides his knuckles under Eren’s chin to tilt him up for another warm kiss, as sweet and unconditionally accepting as always.

When Eren slides back out into the living room, he plops down on the couch next to Marco, jostling his untouched homework. Before he can say anything, though, Eren leans over and kisses him softly, then murmurs, “Sorry for snubbing you in the hallway, sweetheart.”

“Oh.” Marco shakes his head, clearing his work off the couch so Eren can scoot closer. “It’s okay, I understand.” Eren smiles and nudges his nose against Marco’s, gently pulling him in for more kisses, as if to make up for it. Marco indulges for a moment before he presses a hand to his boyfriend’s cheek and asks, “You didn’t answer me, though. What’s wrong?”

“Ah, the both of you,” Eren groans, dramatically leaning his head back. “I’m fine, jeez.”

“Eren...”

“Marco, please,” he sighs, his gaze pleading when it finds Marco’s again. “It’s fine.”

Jean drops onto the couch beside Eren, then reaches around behind him to rest a reassuring hand on Marco’s shoulder. Not to dissuade him from asking further, but for moral support, knowing how frazzled Marco gets when Eren insists that nothing’s wrong.

Neither of them believe that Eren’s fine, and Eren knows they don’t believe him. They each have their own way of showing it, and between them, it’s made very clear that the subject is only temporarily dropped.

Although he can’t help his fretting, Marco worries that he might be getting on Eren’s nerves, but Jean resolutely dotes on Eren the whole evening in his own way. Namely, sprawling his legs across Eren’s and turning on the new episode of Adventure Time without even bitching about having to watch commercials, and Marco feels emboldened enough by Jean’s crass affection to sidle up against Eren’s side and nuzzle into him, resting his head on his shoulder. Between them, Eren starts to shake the mute colors of whatever funk overtook him, laughing a little louder and squeezing their hands a little tighter.

--

Eren doesn’t mention the incident at all, but Marco and Jean are far from forgetful. They’re not unobservant, either, but neither of them say anything when Eren digs a rarely-worn necklace out of the closet the next day.

They haven’t seen that old-fashioned brass key in quite some time. They don’t see it much after Eren pulls it out, either, seeing as he drops it down the front of his shirt and seemingly forgets about it.

Sometimes, when he thinks Jean and Marco aren’t looking, Eren pulls the key out with shaking hands and nibbles on the end of it, his sharp teeth adding tiny new scores to the dozens already scattered along the brushed metal.

--

That weekend, Eren’s still wearing the key under his clothes when some of their friends invite them out for drinks.

Despite having been quite liberal with weed and beer in high school, neither Jean nor Marco can remember the last time they saw Eren take more than a few sips of anything alcoholic, let alone the last time he got high. Even when they go out with friends, he finds excuses to take it easy, blaming work when they’re in public, then telling Jean and Marco when they’re alone that he’s afraid he’ll do something to out them.

Still, he always comes out with them, even if he just ends up keeping to himself in a dark corner and watching quietly.

This time, he keeps himself farther back than usual, fidgeting at the far end of the bar and poking weakly at his barely-touched beer. He’s restless, too, bouncing his leg and cracking his knuckles and chewing on his key, even when people are looking at him.

Marco leaves his drink with Jean and goes over to him after Eren throws him a few frantic-looking, wildly fake grins, carefully and painfully keeping his distance as he slides onto the barstool next to his boyfriend.

“Eren, what’s wrong?” he asks quietly, every part of him screaming to touch the shifty brunette, to hold him and soothe him. It’s bad enough that Eren so staunchly keeps him at arm’s length, too conscious of too many wandering eyes. Knowing that he can’t touch Eren with so many people around them is killing Marco. “Please, ba—please?”

Eren’s eyes fall to Marco’s hands, watching him rub his palms anxiously over his own thighs. The sight just makes him more restless, but he still shakes his head, seemingly unable to form words.

Before Marco can press further, Mikasa materializes beside them, having apparently just barged into the bar and walked right past everyone else. She glances at Eren, whose guilty shifting grows exponentially worse under his sister’s stony eyes, before she blinks back up at Marco.

“Excuse me.”

“O-oh, um,” Marco mumbles, slowly sliding off his barstool without really understanding why. She brushes past him and takes the seat, then stares him down until he tucks his tail between his legs and runs.

When he sinks back into his seat beside Jean, he grits his teeth and tries to force down the tears threatening to spill over, taking a few moments to compose himself before he looks up at his alarmed boyfriend.

He doesn’t need to say anything for Jean to get the gist of the situation. Sipping his beer, Jean slings his arm over the back of Marco’s chair and subtly glances over at Eren and Mikasa.

Eren’s gnawing on his key and speaking with his sister through his teeth, his nervous eyes flicking rapidly between her eyes and her lap. She’s slowly leaning closer, presumably responding, and while Marco fakes cheer as he talks to Reiner about a class he’s teaching, Jean watches Eren squeeze his eyes shut and nod stiffly.

After a moment, Eren leans forward slightly and rests his forehead on Mikasa’s shoulder, and she runs her pale fingers through his hair soothingly, petting him until the tension in his shoulders starts to loosen.

“Earth to Jean!” Jean jolts, setting his beer down again and blinking widely at Reiner. “Thought you fell asleep there, man. What, you and Marco up too late last night? You’re both out of it.”

Rolling his eyes, Jean ruffles Marco’s hair and says, “This old man? You’ve gotta be joking. Nah, it’s just past his bedtime.”

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus,” Marco grumbles, his lips pursed in fake annoyance meant to hide his now-frantic concern about Eren.

“Any time, babe.”

Before Jean can change the subject, someone taps his shoulder lightly. He leans his head back and finds Mikasa staring down at him, her expression as blank as always but somehow still more intimidating than usual. “Can I speak with you?”

“Uh, sure,” Jean mumbles, standing and sliding after her, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. She pulls him a short distance from the table, far enough to be out of earshot of their friends in the crowded bar, before she turns back to stare up at him.

“You need to leave.”

“Uh.”

“Now.”

Jean raises his eyebrows and flicks his eyes up to where Eren had been sitting, his stomach flipping violently when he sees the seat now empty, his still-full beer abandoned. Before he can look around, Mikasa says, “He’s outside waiting. Take him home.”

“Mikasa, what the hell’s happening?” Jean rakes his hands through his hair, ready to beg for information on his hands and knees if he has to. He doesn’t even know if Mikasa knows about them, but right now, he doesn’t care. “He’s been like this for a few days, but he won’t say anything. Just says he’s fine.”

She blinks at him, her nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly.

“Mikasa, please.”

“It’s not my story to tell,” she says curtly, lowering her gaze. Jean still sees it, though, the flash of hurt in her eyes. She knows exactly what’s up with Eren. “Be patient with him. Don’t scare him off.” When she looks up at Jean again, the threat in her eyes makes Jean flinch even before she voices it. “If he disappears again, I will blame you.”

“But what am I supposed to do, ‘Kasa? We just want to help him, but he’s scared of something and we don’t know what—”

“Take him home,” she repeats coolly. “He needs to be away from here. That’s all you need to know.”

Jean groans, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “It’s killing us.”

“I don’t really care.” Jean gapes at her. “You’ve been patient this long. Keep being patient. Whatever you’re feeling is nothing on what he feels.”

Closing his eyes again, Jean rubs the bridge of his nose and takes a deep, steadying breath. “Fine. Okay.”

Mikasa’s cold hand lands on Jean’s arm, squeezing so lightly he almost misses it. “He’ll tell you. He just needs time.”

With that, she turns on her heel and walks right back out of the bar. Eren must have texted her himself, given that no one else seems to have noticed her swift exit. Well, not beyond Marco, who had been watching them cautiously. He raises his eyebrows at Jean, who deflates slightly, then walks back to the table.

“Hey, I’ve got a killer headache,” he lies, flashing their friends a cardboard imitation of a sheepish grin. “Gonna have to cut it short.”

“You just got here!” Reiner booms, and Jean ducks his head to avoid his friend’s too-shrewd eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jean snorts, tossing down some cash for his and Marco’s half-finished drinks. “Next time I’ll bring my A-game.”

“I’ll go with you,” Marco says quickly, smiling apologetically. “I still have a pile of papers to grade, after all.” They say their goodbyes to their noisy friends and back away, moving perhaps a little more swiftly than they normally would.

When they get outside, Eren’s leaning against the wall a ways away from the people smoking around the front door, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Mikasa’s with him again, speaking to him quietly until Jean and Marco are in earshot.

“Hey, Eren,” Marco says, looking around quickly before he rests his hand on Eren’s shoulder and tries to catch his eye. Eren’s tense, though, glaring at his shoes and gnawing on his lip, shame and guilt written across his posture plain as day.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, his rough voice cracking feebly. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Eren,” Marco breathes, sliding gentle fingers over Eren’s cheek. “Are you okay, love? What—”

“Not here,” Eren blurts, standing up straight and edging away from Marco’s hands, now the second time this week. He isn’t looking at them, but he seems to sense the despair in Marco’s sharp exhale anyway, flinching slightly. “I’m sorry, it’s just—sorry—”

Mikasa murmurs Eren’s name, the sound shutting him up instantly. He chokes down more apologies, choosing instead to gnaw on his key, and Mikasa frowns but doesn’t stop him. Marco wrings his hands and bites his lip, trying as hard as he can to allow Eren some distance, although it looks like it physically pains him to do so. Jean runs his palm gently down Marco’s back, then distractedly runs his fingers through his own hair, casting a helpless glance over at Mikasa again.

In the end, Mikasa gives them a ride home, and for the second time that week, Eren spends the entire ride staring at his lap, lost in his own head.

--

“I’m sorry,” Eren blurts the moment their apartment door closes, refusing to look at either of them as he repeatedly rakes his hands through his hair. “I didn’t mean—I’m sorry you—Mikasa said it’d be worse if I just left without telling you but I couldn’t stay and I’m sorry—”

“Eren.”

Despite the relative gentleness to Marco’s tremulous voice, Eren startles, flicking his eyes up to Marco’s for a brief second before staring at the wall again. He’s already starting to apologize again when Marco shakes his head, approaching him carefully, shaking hands outstretched.

“Eren, please,” he implores, “Can we please talk about this?”

“I c-can’t,” Eren wheezes, his voice tight, anxious. “I’m—I can’t.”

Jean runs a hand through his hair, moving to turn the lights on in the living room. “Come sit down, at least,” he mumbles, turning back to them. “Please?”

Swallowing heavily, Eren fidgets and stares at Marco’s hands still held between them before he cautiously takes one of them, letting Marco lead the way. As Marco sits them on the couch, Jean settles onto the coffee table in front of them, leaning forward onto his knees. Eren swallows again and glances between his boyfriends, shrinking impossibly further.

“Eren,” Marco breathes, turning to face him properly. “Can I touch you?”

Eren blinks widely, clearly confused, before he nods. Marco thanks him quietly and reaches over to lace their fingers together, shifting a few inches closer, but he leaves it at that for now, giving Eren generous room to breathe. Jean reaches one of his hands over as well, waiting for Eren to slip his fingers into his before he edges closer. He bends and kisses Eren’s knuckles lightly, then sits up again.

They sit like this for a while, at least until Eren’s stopped shaking so badly and sucking at his lips. They’re bruised from his teeth, cracked and possibly bleeding in one spot, but neither of his boyfriends mention it, not right away.

Once Eren’s sagged back into the couch, his hands sweating slightly in each of theirs, Marco reaches up with his free hand and gently brushes his bangs out of his face. Eren leans into the touch, so Marco rests his hand on Eren’s cheek and rubs his thumb across his flushed cheekbone, hoping to soothe them both further.

When Eren speaks, his voice cracks and drags, but he doesn’t try to clear it. “Sorry,” he murmurs again. “Kind of had a panic attack.”

Marco tries not to look like that kills him as much as it does, knowing that Eren was hurting so badly so close to him, and still feeling so goddamn helpless. “In the bar?” Eren nods. “And Mikasa was nearby?” Eren nods again. Marco hums, then swallows down his own sadness for now, squeezing their laced fingers. “H-how do you feel now?”

“Tired,” Eren sighs. He leans his head back against the couch and closes his eyes, tiny and beaten down and undeniably exhausted. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Jean says, resting his other hand on Eren’s knee. “Please, please don’t apologize, baby, you don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I do,” Eren mumbles, glancing up at Jean. “You went to the bar for, like, twenty minutes.”

“Don’t care,” Jean replies firmly.

“And I dragged you guys back—”

“You didn’t drag us anywhere,” Marco soothes, unable to keep himself from shifting closer again. “We came home with you.”

Eren furrows his brow, staring at his knees again. “I didn’t... tell you guys. I freaked out and texted Mikasa instead.” His frown deepening as his dark eyes fill with tears, Eren grits out, “And I keep lying to you guys and telling you I’m okay when I’m not, but I can’t tell you why I’m not okay, but you guys are so patient with me and you deal with my shit and—”

“Eren,” Jean interrupts, squeezing his hand warmly. “Breathe, babe, it’s okay.”

Taking deep, rattling breath, Eren nods, but he just looks guiltier and guiltier.

“Why can’t you tell us?” Jean presses softly, hoping to god that he doesn’t sound accusatory. Eren shifts and bites his battered lip again instead of answering, so Marco reaches up and gently eases it away from his teeth, leaning his forehead against Eren’s temple as he does. Eren still doesn’t respond, though, so Jean asks, “Are you afraid?”

At that, Eren nods, tears finally rolling down his cheeks as his eyes squeeze shut. Marco scrubs away tears of his own before he carefully wraps his free arm around Eren’s shoulders and holds him close.

“You don’t have to be afraid, love,” Marco whispers, shifting to press a soft kiss to the brunette’s flushed cheek. “We’re not going anywhere. We won’t go anywhere.”

“You will,” Eren says, and the sudden, morbid sureness to his hollow voice slaughters Jean and Marco both. He sighs quietly, shrinking between them. “And I wouldn’t blame you. I would too.”

“Don’t say that, Eren,” Jean replies, trying to match Eren’s firmness despite the shakiness to his voice. He reaches up and cups the brunette’s jaw, wiping away tears with his thumb. “You know how we feel about you.”

“I know how you feel about what you know of me,” Eren huffs, his hands starting to shake again. “But you don’t know everything.”

Marco breathes a shivering sigh, not bothering to stop the flow of his own tears as he leans back to look at Eren again, burying his free hand in the brunette’s hair. “Eren, please,” he manages, finally catching the edge of his boyfriend’s shifting gaze. “I don’t know what happened, but whatever it is won’t make me stop loving you.”

“How can you know that?” Eren turns to look at him properly, his expression growing frantic. “How can either of you say that?”

“Unconditional love, you ass,” Jean says, standing firm when Eren turns his burning eyes on him again. “It means we love you no matter what happened to you.”

Pulling his hands out of theirs, Eren cracks his knuckles loudly, agitatedly, flicking his wide gaze between Jean and Marco as he grows more and more distressed. “It’s—you haven’t seen, you weren’t—” Eren buries his hands in his hair, backing away from them slightly. “You have no idea what I’ve done!”

“I don’t care!” Jean leans far forward, holding Eren’s panicked stare. “I don’t care if you fucking killed someone. I don’t care. I know you, Eren. I know who you are, and even if I don’t know how you got that way, I still fucking love you.” Wilting under Jean’s honest intensity, Eren opens his mouth to protest, but Marco cuts him off.

“We already love you, Eren.” Marco runs his hands through his hair and sighs, letting the brunette have his space. “You are the person that you are, and I love that person, no matter how many terrible things you’ve had to endure. Knowing what those things are can’t possibly make us love you any less, but it can help us understand you and what you need.” His hands gentle, Marco eases Eren’s fists out of his hair and twines their fingers together, coaxing him back down out of his agitation. “Whatever it is won’t make us leave you. It’ll just help us love you better.”

Tears streaming hot down Eren’s flushed face, he stares wide-eyed at Marco, then at Jean, his gaze flicking between them like he’s trying to find the lie, the crack in their expressions. There’s no lie to find, though. Their faces are both open and painfully honest, unwilling to let Eren believe for a second that he has anything to fear from them if they can help it. Eren swallows again, letting his gaze fall to his hands still tangled with Marco’s, vision swimming with yet more fresh tears.

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispers after a minute. “I’m sorry, I’m...”

“Why are you apologizing, love?” Marco presses a soft kiss to Eren’s forehead, squeezing his hands gently.

“It’s—b-because,” Eren stammers, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m still—I c-can’t.” Blinking pleadingly up at Marco, Eren grits his teeth and shrinks. “I can’t yet. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay if you’re not ready yet,” Jean murmurs, reaching out to wipe away Eren’s tears. “It’s okay. Just... don’t hold back because you think we’ll think less of you.”

“But you will,” Eren squeaks, hunching further. “I know you will.”

“Why’s that?”

“I-I know—I know you think less of people like me,” the brunette whispers, turning his face away from Jean.

“W-what? Eren,” Jean chokes out, curling his fingers under Eren’s chin, trying to get him to look at him again. “Baby, I don’t care what other people are like. You’re you. That’s my only opinion of you. You could tell me you’re a damn Republican and I wouldn’t think less of you.”

Eren still shakes his head, retrieving his hands from Marco’s and scrubbing his face. He doesn’t notice Marco glancing quickly between them, the dim outline of a realization starting to form in his mind. Rather than say anything just yet, Marco reaches over to Jean and squeezes his hand reassuringly, soothingly combing his other fingers through Eren’s tangled hair. Jean shoots him a grateful glance, squeezing back.

“I’m sorry,” Eren repeats, leaning into his boyfriend’s petting after a moment. “Just... I’ll tell you. I will. I promise. I just... I need a few days.”

“What do you need from us?” Marco asks, gently tilting Eren’s face up to his again. “Is there anything we can do to make this easier for you?”

With a shaky sigh, Eren pauses to think, his eyes dragging over Marco’s shirt, before he shakes his head. “Just... I just need to get things straight in my head. Need to think it out. Grow some balls.”

Jean leans forward again, tentatively resting his hand on Eren’s knee. “What should we do in the meantime?”

“What you’ve been doing.” Eren places his hand over Jean’s and squeezes, flashing him a quick, tiny smile. “Being with you guys helps, it really, really does.”

Nodding quickly, Jean pushes off the coffee table and leans in, but he stops before he catches Eren’s lips. Instead, he stares wide-eyed and opens his mouth slightly, then leans back a little and blurts, “Can I kiss you?”

Eren snorts, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Yes, nerd.”

“J-just checking,” Jean grumbles. He shifts forward again, tilting Eren’s chin up so he can kiss him softly, their lips pressing together slow and sweet. When he sits down again, Marco turns Eren’s face so he can kiss him too, cupping his jaw gently and letting the brunette melt against him.

As they kiss, Marco whispers quietly to him, brushing their lips together between tender, grateful, encouraging words, and Jean watches with a weight on his shoulders.

It’s painfully obvious that Jean’s done something recently to drive a wedge between himself and Eren, but he can’t think what for the life of him.

‘I know you think less of people like me,’ Eren had said, shrinking away from Jean’s gaze, hiding from him.

Eren may be afraid of both of his boyfriends, but it’s undeniable that he’s significantly more afraid of Jean than he is of Marco.

The thought brings a fresh surge of tears to Jean’s eyes, accompanied by the desperate desire to hold Eren tightly, to try and show him that he doesn’t have to be afraid, but the burn of knowing that he fucked something up stays his hand for now.

All he can do now is wait and pray that he can fix whatever he did.

--

When Eren starts falling asleep on Marco’s shoulder, exhausted and lulled by the brunette’s soothing petting and Jean’s warm hand dragging gently across his thigh, he lets his boyfriends drag him to bed without much fuss.

Jean tries not to let on that he’s being extra cautious with Eren, tries not to seem preoccupied, but Eren still has to pull him down onto the bed with them so he’ll stop creeping around like he’s walking on glass.

Once Eren’s settled contently between them, his arms wrapped firmly around Jean’s waist, their legs tangled, his face buried in the blonde’s neck, he falls asleep almost instantly, which is an immense relief to both of his boyfriends. Marco shifts just to turn the light out, curling comfortably against Eren’s back and settling his hand on Jean’s waist.

After what feels like ages, Marco’s thumb is still running soothingly over Jean’s skin, and Jean’s still combing his fingers through Eren’s hair, the brunette’s slow, deep breathing the only sound between them.

“Jean?”

“Hm?”

Marco squeezes Jean’s hip, peering at him over Eren’s shaggy hair. “You okay?”

Jean sighs slowly, digging the heel of his hand into his eye before he replies quietly. “Worried.”

“Yeah...”

“I think I fucked up, Marco,” he whispers weakly after a minute, uselessly biting his lip against yet more tears. Marco squeezes again, murmuring something comforting, but Jean’s already shaking again. “I don’t know what I did, I just—fuck, I dunno.”

Humming quietly, Marco presses a few gentle kisses against the back of Eren’s head as he thinks. Eren’s still sleeping soundly between them, his limbs loose and heavy where they’re strewn across his boyfriends, but even the steady warmth of his breath does little to soothe Jean.

“Maybe...” Marco blinks again and nuzzles the back of Eren’s head before he breathes, “Maybe don’t mention your uncle again for a few days.” Jean furrows his brow in question. “Just a hunch.”

“Marco...”

“I know, love.” Marco squeezes Jean’s hip again, then slides his hand up to the blonde’s face, running his thumb through the wet tracks lining his cheek. “He loves you, you know he does.”

“But he’s afraid of me.”

“Yeah.” Sighing again, Marco pauses to listen to Eren’s breath, just to make sure. Even if Eren sleeps like a coma patient, it makes him feel better to check. “We’ll know more in a few days, love. Let’s not jump to conclusions before then.”

Jean shivers feebly, squeezing Eren as much as he thinks he can get away with. The brunette makes a happy, sleepy little noise and shifts, but is otherwise undisturbed, so Jean lets himself bury his tearstained face in dark, messy hair.

“I love you,” he whispers into Eren’s hair, followed by a dozen light kisses. “I love you, I swear to god, I do...”

“He knows, baby,” Marco murmurs, scratching soothingly behind Jean’s ear.

“F-fuck,” Jean chokes out, trying really hard not to wake Eren up with his trembling.

“He knows you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him on purpose.”

“Accidents still hurt,” the blonde hisses. “And knowing I hurt him fucking sucks.”

Marco hums again, almost maddeningly patient, but his slow petting gets Jean to start relaxing again regardless. “We can start working through it once we know what we’re dealing with,” he whispers, tugging lightly on Jean’s ear to get his attention. “We’ll work through it. Together.”

Sniffling quietly, Jean rests his cheek on Eren’s head again and nods, still clinging tightly to the unconscious brunette.

Eventually, he falls asleep this way, although he frowns much more deeply in his sleep than he usually does. Marco watches them both for a while longer, still dragging his nails soothingly through Jean’s undercut.

He knows logically that they’ve waited this long, so a few more days won’t kill them, but still... knowing that Eren’s hurting and not being able to do anything about it has Marco’s heart twisting painfully in his chest, and he’s sure Jean’s no better off.

Even with all that pain he carries, though, Eren’s still here, still trusting them to hold him safely between them, trusting them to be here for him when the time comes to tell his story.

Marco just hopes to god that Eren trusts them to still love him when he’s done.

Chapter Text

As requested, Jean and Marco let Eren have a few days to get his thoughts in order. They’d honestly expected him to go stay with his parents or Mikasa in the meantime, so it had come as an immense relief when Eren had quietly asked if he could stay the next morning.

Even though they’re doing their best to keep away from the topic of Eren’s pain until he’s ready, the burden of their purposeful silence wears on all three of them.

Marco does his best to keep things relatively light between them, but the care he takes to lavish both Eren and Jean in warm, soothing affection is too cautious to be casual. Still, it’s appreciated. It always seems to come at exactly the right moment, too, when Jean’s leg is bouncing hard enough to rattle the TV, or when Eren starts to slip a little too deep, when his shadowed gaze starts to wander a little too far. Despite the sadness hanging heavy on his own shoulders, Marco knows that Jean and Eren both badly need his support, so he does his best to give it, and the comfort he takes from that is enough to keep his head above water.

While he’s getting himself sorted, Eren goes about his business as best he can. He goes to work like usual, comes home like usual, cleans up around the house and plays his guitar like usual, but it’s clear that everything yet unsaid weighs heavily on him. Sometimes the songs he plays are sad and slow, disjointed in parts and jagged in others, a perfect reflection of what’s happening behind his glazed eyes. For now, they let him play his way through his turmoil, never more than an arm’s length away from him where they can help it.

Where Eren and Marco are at least mostly functional, Jean’s coming close to falling apart.

He tries to hide it, of course. This story isn’t about him, and the one who needs the most support and affection and reassurance isn’t him, so he does his best to act like it.

Jean’s always been a terrible actor.

Try as he might, Jean can’t help the way his mind wanders constantly, searching and searching for what he might have done to make Eren so goddamn afraid of him. Suddenly, every harmlessly abrasive joke, every snarky comment, every single rude thing he’s ever done to Eren stands now at the forefront of his mind, all clamoring to be named the horrible thing that built a wall between them.

In his restless dreams, a dark, awful suspicion creeps in pieces from the shadows, and it’s getting harder and harder in his exhausted waking hours to push it back beneath the surface.

For a few days, Jean gives Eren as much space as he can manage in interest of not suffocating him, but every lingering touch, every slow kiss, every soothing embrace meant to comfort Eren burns into a gesture of mutual anxiety, an expression of absolute acceptance wrapped around a silently screaming plea for forgiveness. Eren willingly returns them in equal measure, though, and Marco makes sure to offer his support as well, and between them, they manage.

--

On Monday, Eren wakes up while it’s still as dark and gloomy out as usual, but before he leaves for work today, he makes sure that Jean and Marco know exactly where he’s going and when he’ll be back. They’re both confused and groggy when he wakes them, and Jean’s more upset than he’d normally be at this hour. Neither of them are really all that keen on letting him go. As much as Eren would love to stay in bed with them, work calls, so he leaves his boyfriends in each other’s capable hands for now.

When he comes home early in the afternoon, they’re off teaching, same as always. He texts Jean and Marco both to let them know that he’s home, though, and if that strikes either of them as unusual, neither of them mention it in their reply texts.

Marco has a much shorter Monday than Jean does, but there are still a few hours that Eren has to spend alone before Marco comes home, so once he’s changed out of his work clothes, Eren allows himself the luxury of lying around and watching cartoons, idly playing his guitar against the pressing quiet of the empty apartment.

He’s standing in the warm kitchen, staring vacantly at the slowly-boiling kettle on the stove when he hears keys scrape in the lock, and the sound only startles him a little before the door opens and Marco’s voice soothes him again. “Hi, I’m home,” Marco calls, same as always, immediately followed by the sound of his overburdened bag hitting the floor.

“Hey,” Eren responds, reaching up to pull another mug down out of the cupboard as he asks, “You want some tea?”

“Kinda hot out, isn’t it?” Marco hums, meandering into their small, sunny kitchen with a soft smile. Eren shrugs, but before he can move to put the mug back, Marco gently lays his hand on Eren’s wrist and murmurs, “Sure, I’ll take some.”

Snorting quietly, Eren turns and leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “That your final answer?”

“So much pressure,” Marco chuckles. “Now I’m all confused.”

“Oh, shut up,” Eren laughs, reaching out to pull Marco close by his belt loops. His smile widening, Marco drapes his arms over Eren’s shoulders and presses a soft kiss to his forehead, silently grateful to be welcomed into his boyfriend’s space.

Breathing a small, pleased sound, Eren wraps his arms loosely around Marco’s waist and tilts his chin up for a proper kiss, which Marco is more than happy to oblige. He brushes their lips together gently, lingering for a breath before he nudges their noses together and hums contently, reaching to run idle fingers through Eren’s shaggy bangs.

After a few more lazy kisses, Marco pulls away with a quiet sigh and asks, “How was work?”

“Same old,” Eren replies. He pats Marco’s shoulders, then braces his hands on the counter and hops up to sit on it, quickly pulling his boyfriend back between his knees so they can talk eye-to-eye. “How was class?”

“Long,” Marco groans, resting his hands on Eren’s warm, bare waist. “Long for them, long for me... really wanted to wrap up early so I could come home,” he admits softly. He drops his gaze to the cups beside them, and he knows well enough by the way Eren’s muscles subtly tense under his hands that he doesn’t have to explain why he’d been so impatient to end class. Eren lets out a low, shaky breath, though, and he relaxes again fairly quickly with an understanding nod.

The kettle starts to shrill in the quiet between them, so Marco reaches over and shuts the stove off, but he makes no move to pour water into their waiting mugs. Instead, he shifts closer to Eren and holds him a little more tightly, nuzzling his warm cheek with a soft sigh.

Eren wraps his arms around Marco’s neck and leans into his gentle affection after a moment, letting himself melt gratefully into the brunette’s welcoming embrace. He ducks to catch Marco’s lips again, seeking yet more of his affection, and as always, Marco gladly supplies it, folding his arms around him and kissing him lovingly. He tilts his head and slots their lips more firmly together, humming quietly when Eren makes a soft, breathy noise and sucks gently at his lower lip, tangling the fingers of one hand into soft black hair as he does.

When Marco leans in more, then slips the tip of his tongue along the part of Eren’s lips, those fingers tighten in his hair before Eren huffs lightly and slides his tongue out against Marco’s, his other hand fisting in the crisp fabric of his boyfriend’s button-down. Tugging Marco yet closer, Eren crosses his ankles behind him, melting even more at the feeling of those warm fingers soothing up and down his back.

He curls his tongue between Marco’s lips, eagerly breathing in the low sound the feeling wrings out of him. When Marco pulls back and licks his flushed lips, their eyes meet for a long moment before Marco’s arms tighten around him again, pulling him into a warm, loving embrace, one almost entirely devoid of the kind of heat that usually rises between them when they kiss.

“I love you,” Marco whispers against Eren’s ear, chasing the words with a soft kiss before he repeats them, then again, his raw, hushed voice openly honest, unconditionally accepting. Eren’s throat tightens at the sound.

He swallows heavily and loosely fists his hands in the fabric of Marco’s shirt, then drops his forehead into the curve of his neck, just letting Marco hold him for a while.

Marco’s been so open with his affection for the last few days, since the thing at the bar on Friday night, and what happened after. He’s been nothing but patient, so careful not to push or pry even as he showers Eren in boundless love and tenderness, but Marco’s never been a convincing liar, and he’s never been good at disguising his worrying, nor the sounds of his gears restlessly turning.

“You know, don’t you,” Eren mumbles finally, the plain statement near-silent in the still air. “You know what it is.” Marco stiffens slightly, and Eren buries his face further against his neck, refusing to come out just yet.

Breathing a long, low exhale, Marco leans his cheek against the top of Eren’s head and thinks loudly before he replies, “I... have my suspicions.” Eren sighs, but before he can pull away, Marco continues, “But I’m not dwelling on them. It’s your story to tell, and I’ll hear it when you’re ready to tell it.”

After a moment, Eren nods, satisfied with that response. He knows without asking that he doesn’t have to confirm or deny anything just yet. Marco probably wouldn’t even tell him what his suspicions are, anyway, not at the risk of diminishing Eren’s obviously complicated history to some kind of puzzle waiting to be solved.

Content with that understanding for now, Marco holds Eren for as long as he wants him to, and Eren lets himself be soothed, long-held tension melting out of his shoulders under Marco’s gentle, attentive petting.

--

During the summer semesters, Wednesdays are Jean’s free days, and he’s never had a problem spending them lying around and slacking off. He’s used to spending them mostly alone, too, since Eren always has another early-ass opening shift at the coffee shop and Marco spends the day teaching. Again, the personal time has never been much of an issue for Jean.

Today is Wednesday, and even though Jean looks and feels like death warmed over, the thought of having to spend the entire morning alone with his guilt literally makes his stomach turn.

He gets up fairly early with Marco and tries to get ready to go to his lab, just to have something to keep himself occupied, but Marco’s having exactly none of it. He’s well aware that Jean’s been sleeping particularly badly since the thing at the bar a few days ago. Hell, everyone knows it; it shows all across Jean’s unusually pale face and his slouched posture, obvious in the amount of coffee he has to drink just to make it through the day.

“It’s your day off, babe. Please just get some rest,” Marco pleads as he watches Jean pull his shirt on inside-out, clearly still out of it.

“’M fine,” Jean replies gruffly, to which Marco responds by gently pushing him back onto the bed, his pants tangled around his knees. “Marco, seriously—”

“No, Jean, I’m serious.” He sits next to him and reaches down to comb his fingers through Jean’s bed-mussed hair, waiting until the blonde stops his feeble struggling to murmur, “You need the sleep, love, I’m worried about you.”

Jean huffs and throws his arm over his eyes, then rumbles, “It’s not me you should be worrying about.”

“Yes, it is,” Marco says firmly before he shifts to lie next to him, slowly rubbing his hand up and down Jean’s chest. “I’m worried about Eren too, don’t get me wrong. You know I am. He needs our support, but you’re allowed to need support too. You’re human, and this is hard on you.”

“Don’t enable me,” Jean hisses, gritting his teeth and fisting his hands. “Don’t make me think it’s okay to act like this.”

“Jean, it is okay.”

“Marco—”

Shaking his head, Marco leans up and lightly rattles Jean until he looks at him again, frowning up at him through the tears pooling, then trickling down into his ears. Marco breathes his boyfriend’s name and rests his hands on Jean’s damp cheeks, soothing his thumbs across them as he ducks to brush slow, loving kisses over his trembling lips. “It’s okay to need support, love,” he says softly, nudging their noses together. “I know how anxious this is making you, but you’re still clearly making an effort to be here for Eren, and you know he appreciates it. You’re not taking anything from him by being worried about this.”

Jean just clicks his tongue and turns his head away, stubbornly refusing his boyfriend’s reassurance, and Marco sighs quietly before he nuzzles into Jean’s ear.

“Please don’t try to push me away like this, sweetheart,” Marco murmurs. “It’s not gonna work.”

For a few long minutes, Jean stays silent, glowering out the rain-streaked window as he audibly grinds his teeth, but Marco isn’t so easily dissuaded. He knows all too well how pissy, how bull-headed Jean can be when he’s trying to isolate himself, like he’s trying to imprison himself with nothing but his own guilt for company. Luckily, Marco also knows how to break him down, so for now, he just rests his arm comfortably over Jean’s chest and slowly kisses along his ear, up to his temple, patiently waiting for the blonde to speak again.

Eventually, Jean drags his hand down his face, smearing his tears down his cheeks with a shaky huff, so Marco props his head up on his hand so he can watch him try to form words.

“I shouldn’t need support,” Jean finally grits out, his rough voice wavering.

“Why not?”

“Because I fucked up.” Narrowing his watery eyes, Jean fists a hand in his hair and rasps, “Somewhere along the line, I did something shitty to him, and now he needs us and he thinks I’m gonna think less of him and all I can do is fucking cry about it. It’s shitty. I’m sh—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Marco interrupts, firmly turning Jean’s face back toward himself and pressing a stern finger against the blonde’s lips. “You don’t know what made him feel that way, and you can’t really apologize for it or start making up for it until you know what it is. I get that, I do. Worrying about that is normal, Jean.”

“I’m making everything about me,” Jean spits.

“You are not,” Marco counters, covering Jean’s mouth with his whole hand this time. “You just think you are because you’re you. Being upset and being self-centered are very, very different things. Besides, if I thought you were being self-centered, which you’re not, I would tell you.” Tilting his head slightly, Marco slides his hand onto Jean’s cheek and gives him a small, crooked smile. “C’mon now... what d’you think Eren would say if he heard how you’re talking right now?”

Grumbling under his breath, Jean frowns at the ceiling for a moment before he closes his eyes and mumbles, “He’d kick my ass...”

Marco chuckles softly. “Damn right.” He sighs slowly, idly combing Jean’s bangs off his face, then hums, “If it were me that Eren was scared of, you’d be more than willing to support us both, yeah?” When Jean nods quickly, Marco pinches his cheek and continues, “That’s how it is for me. I’m here for you both, and I can see plain as day that you’re doing everything you can to be here for Eren, even if you’re hurting. Eren can see it too, trust me.”

“He shouldn’t need to comfort me,” Jean insists, rolling to bury his face in Marco’s warm chest. “It’s messed up that I was the asshole, and yet he still has to worry about me because I can’t fucking figure out what I did.”

“Why?”

Jean muffles his loud groan in his boyfriend’s shirt, wrapping his arms around Marco’s waist and clinging to him. “Stop analyzing me, you know what I mean.”

“I’m not analyzing you, you ass,” Marco snorts, tugging lightly on Jean’s ear. “You’re giving yourself a hard time over having a hard time, and on top of being totally unnecessary, it’s driving you insane. I’m just trying to help.”

“I know, I know...” Jean falls silent again, still hiding his face, but Marco lets him. He combs his fingers soothingly through Jean’s hair in the meantime, carefully sorting through the knots he’d worked up from tossing and turning until eventually, his quiet voice raw and trembling, Jean whimpers, “He thinks I’m gonna hate him, Marco.”

Marco winces at that thought, dull pain curling between his ribs to accompany the hot rush of stinging tears that flood his eyes, before he shifts to lie down again and wraps his arms tightly around Jean’s shoulders.

“H-he thinks I’m gonna hate him,” Jean repeats weakly, fisting his shaking hands in Marco’s shirt. “I-I’ve never in my life hated that kid. I couldn’t hate him.”

“I know, baby,” Marco breathes, nuzzling into Jean’s hair with a hitched sigh. “I know.”

“I j-just—” Shivering slightly, Jean takes a deep, rattling breath before he chokes out, “Whatever it is, I just want him to tell me already so I can t-tell him I still love h-him and have him a-actually believe me. H-he believes you...”

“He believes you too, love, you know he does. And you know he loves you too.”

Tears now streaming from his bloodshot eyes, Jean pulls away from Marco’s chest to look at him, then shakes his head and moves to cradle the brunette’s face in trembling hands. Marco blinks at him, but Jean just shakes his head again and leans in to kiss him gently, slowly running his thumbs over Marco’s cheeks.

“He believes you when you tell him you love him, Marco,” Jean murmurs, resting their foreheads together and biting his lip. “He knows I love him, but whenever I tell him, I swear I can fucking s-see him wondering how long he has left.” Sniffing quietly, Jean lets Marco gather him closer in shaking arms, already breathing soft comforts when Jean continues, “W-whatever made him think like that, it’s my fault. I did that shit.”

“J-Jean...”

Jean shakes his head again, curling his fingers over the warm nape of Marco’s neck as the brunette presses his lips against his cheek, under his eye, everywhere he can think to reach. “I’ll wait as long as I have to for him to be ready,” Jean murmurs after a while of this, “But ‘m gonna lose sleep until I can give him a good reason to believe me again.”

Pulling back to look at Jean properly, Marco reaches up to gently wipe his tears away and nods, as understanding as always, and when Jean tugs him close again, his eyes shuttering closed on a fresh wave of tears, Marco holds him tight against his chest and just lets him cry for a while.

Eventually, Marco really has to leave to teach. He’d cancel class if it wasn’t a once-a-week deal, but time is precious as it is during summer classes. Besides, Eren’ll be home from work early in the afternoon, and as bad as Marco feels leaving Jean to stew, having a few hours of alone time with Eren should do them both some good.

After another few minutes of gentle, reassuring kisses, Marco changes his tear-stained shirt and reluctantly rips himself away from Jean, his teeth already digging into his lip as he goes.

Exhausted from crying, Jean kicks his pants the rest of the way off and subjects himself to yet more of his restless dreams, searching fruitlessly for sleep as he curls himself around Eren’s pillow and shakes.

--

The quiet clink of metal against metal filters through the humid air, and as innocuous as the sound is, it still jolts Jean out of his fitful slumber. He wakes with a sharp inhale to find himself gripping the sheets in tight fists, his blurry eyes already frantically searching for the source of the sound.

Eren blinks over at him from where he’s standing beside the bed, brow furrowed in concern, and he quickly drops his unfastened belt so he can rest his hand over one of Jean’s with a gentle squeeze. “Jean, hey,” he mumbles softly, “Just me, babe.”

Jean squints up at him, trying for a moment to get his frazzled brain in order, then collapses back against the sheets with a raspy groan. He drags his free hand down his face, grimacing at the sweat he finds beading there. Clearing his dry throat, Jean takes a steadying breath before he turns his hand over in Eren’s and squeezes his warm, not-clammy fingers gratefully. “Sorry...”

“’S okay,” Eren murmurs, carefully crawling onto the bed beside his boyfriend. “Are you okay?”

Swallowing heavily, Jean frowns at the ceiling for a second, far too exhausted to do anything about the hot, stinging tears already pooling in his tired eyes again. He grits his teeth against them, though, and drags his hand down his face again before he manages a cracked, “Y-yeah.”

“Liar.” Breathing a low sigh, Eren reaches over and gently presses Jean’s sweat-damp bangs off his forehead, then trails his knuckles down the blonde’s pale face, and the soothing gesture brings with it guilt and comfort in equal measure. “You look like shit,” Eren continues quietly, weakly teasing, his thumb rubbing slowly across Jean’s cheek.

Normally, Jean would laugh and snark right back, but right at this moment he’s far too busy gnawing on the insides of his cheeks, barely keeping tears at bay. Instead, he casts his gaze aside and turns away from Eren’s hand, reaching up to catch the brunette’s fingers before Eren pulls them away.

Eren exhales shakily, understanding all too well the source of Jean’s stress. Probably feeling guilty, too, and that thought has acidic self-deprecation burning a hole in Jean’s stomach.

Jean wants so badly to tell Eren how sorry he is, to apologize with every shallow breath he has, but right now the words would be empty, meaningless. Watered down and insincere, too flimsy to mean anything without the real reason behind them. Eren deserves better than that, better than endless vacant apologies, so Jean chokes them back down and stares out the window again.

“Hold on, okay?” Eren murmurs after a minute, gently squeezing both of Jean’s hands in his before he slides away and off the bed. “’S raining pretty hard, my clothes are all wet.”

While Eren’s peeling off his pants, socks, and shirt, Jean watches out of the corner of his eye, noting the way Eren’s shaggy hair frizzes and curls from the cool rainwater still dripping from his bangs. He watches as Eren drags his hands through his hair, combing through damp tangles with a wince, then as he climbs right back onto the bed and tugs lightly on Jean’s twisted-up blanket, an unspoken request to join him beneath it.

Taking another deep breath, Jean kicks at the thin blanket until it’s in some semblance of order again before he lifts the edge. Eren’s so warm when he scoots under it, melting right against Jean’s side and wrapping himself around him, nuzzling into his ear with a few soft kisses, so much sweeter and more understanding than Jean really feels he deserves.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Eren whispers after a long moment. He pulls back enough that Jean can turn and stare at him somewhat incredulously.

“W-what—” Jean rasps, clearing his throat of the cracks in his rough voice. “What for?”

Eren rests one hand on Jean’s cheek, his fingers sticking in the salt trails of his tears, and his brow furrows again as he follows them up to the flushed corner of Jean’s eye. “’Cause... I don’t want to do this to you, I swear. It’s just...”

“Y-you don’t have to apologize,” Jean blurts, rolling quickly to face Eren. “And you don’t have to explain anything to me, not if—not yet.” He lets Eren scoot closer, tangling their legs together, and he winds his arms around Eren’s strong waist to close any space left between them.

“I know I don’t have to.” Sliding his arm under Jean’s neck so he can wrap it around his shoulders, Eren hums as he gently combs his free fingers through mussed blonde, his lips pursed slightly. “But I really am sorry. I hate seeing you this stressed out...” He sighs again, slipping his fingers down the shell of Jean’s ear. “And I kinda feel like you might be beating yourself up over this.”

“You talked to Marco?”

“Hm?” Eren blinks, then shakes his head. “No, not about you, not today. I don’t really have to, though, no offense.” Exhaling slowly, Eren drags his thumb over Jean’s cheek again, his own tired, vivid eyes flicking between Jean’s. “If those sound like Marco words, I must be on the right track.”

“I-I just—” Jean chokes up, the crackling tension of all his built-up anxiety finally overwhelming his weakened restraint and flooding out of him in a rushed exhale. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes an uneven, stuttered breath, holding Eren tightly in shaking arms. “I just f-feel like I hurt you somehow, and I didn’t—I didn’t mean to, but I don’t know what it was, a-and—fuck, I never meant to hurt you, Eren,” he gasps, his voice wavering and thick with the tears that drip from the bridge of his nose onto the pillow. “I-I would take it b-back, I would, I just—”

“Jean...”

“N-no, Eren, please,” he manages, his teeth digging hard into his chapped lip, breath hitching. “I l-love you, Eren, I love you s-so much, I swear to god—”

“Jean,” Eren presses, curling his hand over the nape of Jean’s neck. “Jean, baby, I know. Please look at me?”

It takes a minute, but Jean opens his eyes again, and he makes nervous, fleeting eye contact with Eren a few times before he feels comfortable enough to let Eren really look at him. Yet more tears flow, but he’s too tired of them by now to bother, his fingers shaking against his boyfriend’s warm back. Murmuring soft comforts, Eren combs Jean’s bangs off his forehead again, holding him securely against his chest as he does.

He makes sure Jean’s looking at him when he murmurs, “Jean, I know you love me, baby. I know, I know. And I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, okay?”

Jean blinks, not entirely reassured, so Eren closes his eyes with a long sigh and leans their foreheads together.

They stay like this for a moment, seeking comfort in each other the best they can until Eren tilts his head and presses a sweet, loving kiss to Jean’s lips, then another few, just for good measure. He nudges their noses together then, eyes still closed, and whispers, “I know you love me, Jean. I’m just... I’m really fucking scared.” Jean’s brow furrows, but before he finds his voice again, Eren continues, “I’m scared of what might happen when I tell you, I’m scared of what you’ll think or say or do, I’m scared that—that—fuck,” he hisses, “Don’t even wanna fuckin’ say it...”

“D-don’t, then,” Jean squeaks out, moving his hands to rest firmly on Eren’s cheeks. “Don’t say it, ‘cause I don’t even want you thinkin’ it. D-don’t think like that, Eren, p-please...”

“You don’t understand yet,” Eren mumbles, casting a tear-filled glance up at Jean, so furtive and tiny that Jean’s heart near stops in his chest. “B-but you will. Christ, I’m terrified...” Rolling onto his back, Eren runs a hand through his hair and stares up at the ceiling, his eyes wandering quickly across the dull paint. “I’ve kept this shit from you guys for a year now. Even longer. And that... that’s bad.”

“I-if you felt like you couldn’t tell us—” Jean starts, but Eren interrupts him by shaking his head.

“No, not just that,” he sighs, covering his eyes with his hand. “Hiding shit like this is bad for you guys, super fucking bad... but it’s bad for me on top of that, because I swore I wouldn’t do this shit to myself.” Exhaling shakily, Eren bites at his lips lightly for a moment, unable to hide the way they quiver in time with the hitch in his shallow breath. “I swore I wouldn’t put myself in situations that I know are dangerous for me. Swore I’d do whatever I have to to make sure I’m safe. And I... haven’t been doing that. Because I’ve just been shoving it under the rug in hopes that it’ll just go away. Like it never even happened. Like it’s not a part of me.”

For lack of any sort of adequate response, Jean slides closer, gently scratching his nails through the soft, dark hair on Eren’s chest. The arm still around his shoulders squeezes gratefully, even though Eren has yet to uncover his eyes, even though tears have started slipping from beneath his fingers and trailing down into his hair.

“I was so fucking ashamed, so worried about scaring you guys away that I just made shit worse for everyone, but especially for myself,” Eren mumbles finally, sniffing quietly before he sighs, “I-I took advantage of your trust. You and Marco both. Fuck, I s-should’ve told you before we started any of this. I should’ve.”

“E-Eren...”

“I’m gonna tell you tonight,” he says firmly, sliding his hand from over his eyes up through his hair again, leaving his messy bangs on end. “When Marco comes home from class. I’m gonna tell you guys. I can’t—I c-can’t keep doing this. Not to any of us.”

Jean opens his mouth to try to find words, but Eren saves him from the struggle when he rolls over and faces him again, leaning close to nuzzle him slowly. Hesitantly at first, Eren seeks out his affection, and he receives it gladly in the way Jean immediately winds himself around him, holding him close and peppering his warm face with soft, soothing kisses. One of Jean’s hands finds his, lacing their fingers tightly as he wiggles down enough that he can catch his lips again.

Rather than assure Eren for the thousandth time that he doesn’t have to tell them if he’s not ready, Jean trusts Eren to know that without it being said, so he uses that energy instead to kiss Eren deeply, melting against him with a shivering breath.

Their lips part only so they can whisper quiet comforts to each other, tremulous expressions of love and trust, and Jean does everything in his power to promise through those kisses that this is not the last of his love Eren will ever breathe in.

--

That evening, Eren’s far, far too restless to sit on the couch between Jean and Marco, and as comforting as their soft touches usually are, right now they’re nearly overwhelming. Even the light brushes of Marco’s fingers over his or the slight jitter of Jean’s bony knee against his are too much right now, so Eren stands and paces back and forth in front of them instead. He lets Jean move the coffee table out of the way, at least, leaving no physical barriers between them if they can help it.

As he paces, rubbing trembling fingers over his dry lips, Jean and Marco stare up at him from the couch, their laced fingers resting on the cushion between them.

Crackling with nervous energy, Eren pauses to glance at his boyfriends, popping his knuckles quietly. “Listen,” he starts, his voice already wavering, unsteady. He clears his throat, running his hands through his hair, and tries again. “It’s. It’s a really long, really ugly story, okay?”

“We’re not going anywhere, Eren,” Marco soothes, leaning forward slightly. “Take your time, yeah?”

“I kinda really don’t want to,” Eren admits, lacing his fingers protectively over the back of his neck. “I just wanna... get it all out.”

“That’s fine too,” Jean mumbles around his chewed-down thumbnail. “We’re here either way.”

Nodding slowly, Eren pauses to look them over again, his toes curling against the flat carpet. He’d put his jeans back on for this, which is more nerve-wracking for his boyfriends than it really should be. It feels too much like he’s ready to get kicked out, like he’s shaving time off a hasty escape by putting his pants on now, rather than later.

“Before I start,” he murmurs, turning to face them properly. “I know you guys are gonna want to feel guilty about this. I know it. But please, please—” Eren chokes quietly, squeezing his eyes shut and ducking his head. “Please don’t. None of it was your fault, I swear to god it wasn’t. It was... everything else, and most of it was me.” He glances up at them again, eyes already rimmed red. “But it wasn’t you two, never you two. Okay?”

Jean doesn’t know if that’s something he can really promise. He nods anyway, though, shifting guiltily, and Marco mumbles an unconvincing acknowledgment too. It’s flimsy, every part of it, but Eren nods anyway, like he knows without asking that it’s the best they can offer him right now.

Sighing slowly, Eren drops his gaze to the carpet, fingers lacing more tightly over the nape of his neck, curling in on himself where he stands as he fights to find words. His jaw is clenched, twitching, and tears are already pooling in his eyes, his spine bent beneath shame and guilt and the slowly-darkening shadow that seems to haunt him as of late.

“I wish I could say I didn’t know where to begin,” Eren mumbles weakly, letting his eyes slide closed, his brow furrowing deeper. Jean and Marco sit up, ready to listen, ready to understand, and under their attentive gazes, Eren seems smaller than he ever has. “You guys know I was a big pothead in high school, pretty big drinker.” They nod, and Eren takes a deep breath and blinks up at the ceiling as he continues.

“Well, however much you think I partied, multiply that by, like, ten. I can tell you right now, that summer before college, I wasn’t sober for more than twelve hours at a time. The whole summer.”

Jean raises his eyebrows, glancing over at Marco, who’s chewing anxiously on his lip. They knew Eren liked to partake just as much as they did, if not more, but that...

“I dunno what it is,” Eren sighs. “Stuff just hits me different, I guess. Always has. Ever since I was a kid, everything was too much all the damn time. Playing music helped me feel like I wasn’t crawling out of my own goddamn skin, but once I stopped playing, I’d just get bad again. People talking, loud noises, bright lights... everything was too much. I was always so damn wound up, and I always had these fucking horrible crashes whenever I got somewhere quiet again. Smoking and drinking took the edge off the crash, made it somewhat tolerable.” Exhaling shakily, Eren turns away from Jean and Marco slightly, his shoulders unbearably tense. “Shrink later said I’ve got issues with sensory processing, or something. Not like I’m trying to make excuses or justify anything. Just... an explanation.”

Scrubbing his hands down his face, Eren pauses to crack his neck, then his knuckles, his anxious agitation showing loud and clear.

“So we all went off to college, and I fell in with a crowd that liked to drink more than they liked to smoke. So I drank a lot. Like...” Swallowing heavily, Eren laces his fingers over the back of his neck again, staring intently at his curled toes. “Like a lot. I liked drinking. Being drunk made loud, crowded places fun, instead of scary or just tolerable. It’s a down kind of feeling, so for me, it evened out the feeling of being up all the damn time. I liked being evened out.” Shivering slightly, Eren presses his bent elbows together and takes a deep breath. “I liked being evened out so much that I didn’t see a point in letting myself get uneven again. So I didn’t.”

Pausing tensely, Eren grinds his teeth and glares at the carpet through his tears, then drops quickly into a crouch, resting his arms on his folded knees. He digs one hand into his hair, his fingers visibly shaking, but Jean and Marco let him have his space as promised, as much as it hurts to keep the careful distance between them.

Marco squeezes Jean’s fingers gently, checking on him with a brief glance. Jean’s still gnawing on his nails, the skin around them flushed bright and angry from his teeth, so Marco leans over and grabs that hand too, holding both of them safely between their thighs.

“So, yeah,” Eren mutters, curled into a tiny, protective ball before them. “It started with the alcoholism. And that’s honestly what it was, too, before you laugh.”

“W-why would we laugh?” Jean croaks, his leg jittering harder now. “Who laughs at something like that?”

Eren snorts, then shrugs. “Some people think it’s cute. You go out and get drunk every other weekend, every weekend, and you get the ‘alcoholic’ title like a cub scouts badge or some shit. Make yourself feel better singing along to songs with lyrics like ‘brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack’ or whatever. Like it’s normal.” Fisting his hand in his hair, he shakes his head slightly, trying to look annoyed but ending up more hurt than anything else. “People think it’s cute until you tell them that you count the time in liquor to stay wasted for as long as humanly possible. Through work, through school, whenever. I had that shit down to a science.”

“E-Eren,” Marco murmurs, using his sweaty grip on Jean’s hands to keep himself rooted to the couch, to keep himself from moving to wrap his arms around Eren just yet.

“Oh, it gets worse,” Eren huffs, standing up again and crossing his arms tightly. He glances at Jean and Marco, but recoils from their gazes, turning away from them and kicking restlessly at the floor just for something to do to move his body. “So, somewhere over the summer after sophomore year, I was at a house party. Kind of a rough crowd, but I didn’t have to buy the booze, so I wasn’t complaining. There was a lot of cocaine, though. Can’t stand the shit myself.” Stuffing his hands deep in his pockets, Eren glowers at a loose fiber pulled up from the carpet, every part of his body language tensely sealed off from his boyfriends’ desperately-reaching support. “Coke gets you up, and I didn’t want to be up. I wanted to mellow out, t-to even out. Coke and I don’t really mix.”

He pauses again, swallowing between tightly-clamped teeth, his jaw muscle visibly twitching from the strain. Running a hand down his face, Eren closes his eyes and lets out a long, shuddering sigh before he moves to chew on his nails, which look just as bad as Jean’s even from where he and Marco are sitting.

“Eren,” Marco tries again, shifting forward on the couch, ready to offer Eren a hand to hold, should he want it.

“I know,” Eren mumbles, pulling his fingers away from his mouth before he glances over at Jean and Marco again, wilting under their persistent, worried attention.

Jean and Marco both look nervous, anxious, but they’re still listening, and they’re still just as open to him as always. He seems momentarily relieved by the fact before he hunches his shoulders again, turning his eyes away as his nostrils flare agitatedly.

“Yeah, um,” he wheezes after a steadying breath, fisting his hands in his pockets. “Party. Right. So I didn’t fuck with the coke, and I ended up standing in the basement with this weird-ass dude, some friend of a friend of a friend or something. And we were talking, and I was telling him all about how I don’t like coke, how I like being mellow. And th-this guy—” Eren’s voice fractures, his breath shattering in his throat. He swallows it down, though, slowly stretching his stiff neck again. “This guy tells me that if I like downers, he’s got just the thing for me if I come to his friend’s house. R-real good high, he s-said. Real m-mellow.”

And then, like a fucking kick in the teeth, Jean gets it, and he suddenly feels very, very ill.

He’s heard this exact story before. Identical.

Not from Eren, though.

From the cracked, bleeding lips of his drugged-out uncle after another near-fatal relapse, a man reduced to a haggard skeleton dwarfed even by the tiny hospital bed he was handcuffed to, his lifeless eyes black, black, black under bruised lids still heavy with the tar rushing his veins.

Eren chews on his tongue for a long minute, struggling to fight back the tears that threaten to pour out. Sick chills roll in waves over Jean’s skin, anxious nausea flooding him, and he understands, but Christ he wishes he didn’t. The world spins under him as he fidgets in his seat, somehow containing the electric need to tackle Eren and hold him close, to kiss away his tears and tell him that it’s okay. Now isn’t the time, anyway, not with the way Eren’s shaking all over but still so, so closed off from them.

As Eren chokes on the bitter taste of old pain, Jean glances over at Marco, who looks like he’s still trying to fit the pieces together. He’s pale, though, paler than Jean’s ever seen him, and his hands are shaking hard even with how tightly their fingers are laced.

Shaking his head quickly, Eren rattles out a shallow sigh, unable to prevent the few tears that streak down his face as he roughly scratches the back of his head. “I fucking knew I shouldn’t have gone in that house,” he grits out, his wavering voice utterly broken. “I was two shots away from blackout drunk, and I fucking knew I should’ve run screaming. Everything about it was so f-fucking wrong.”

He sucks on his teeth for a second, bouncing his foot and staring at the wall.

“I didn’t run, though. I went in. And I didn’t go home again for two fucking weeks.”

Jean honestly feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He knows he’s sweating, knows his breath is shaky and uneven, and tears of his own spill over unchecked as he gnaws on his lip and stares up at Eren, at the tiny, broken little shell quaking under the leaden weight of his hidden suffering.

“So, yup,” Eren manages once he’s remembered how to breathe, now completely unable to look back at Jean and Marco, unable to face the expressions they must be wearing. “That’s when I disappeared. Just like that.” Turning to stare up at the ceiling, he lets out a dry, hollow laugh that sounds more like the punch of broken glass than anything else. “I just... dropped everything and ran away to worship at the alter of the heroin gods.”

Heroin.

Marco’s eyes widen then, his hands spasming in Jean’s, and as much as Jean tries to show his support with quick squeezes, the sensation doesn’t seem to reach him. “J-Jesus,” Marco stammers, the truncated thought punctuated by a devastated sob. “Jesus, Eren...”

Eren misunderstands him entirely, mistaking his pained shock for something like disgust. He curls in on himself, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and nodding stiffly, his short nails digging into the tattooed crooks of his elbows, where two halves of a radiant sunflower must each cover jagged, pale needle scars. “I-I know,” he chokes out. “God, I know, it’s—fuck.”

“N-no, Eren,” Jean blurts, quickly leaning forward. Holding up a badly-shaking hand, Eren cuts him off before he can even start reassuring him.

God, it hurts, but Jean sits back again, knowing how important it is that Eren gets everything out first. Even so, he wants to reach out and catch that hand, to pull Eren close enough to wrap his arms around, to bury his face in his warm stomach and tell him a thousand million times that he loves him, because he does. Even knowing this dark and terrible thing about Eren, Jean loves him still, so he shows it by letting Eren tell his story in its entirety.

Beside him, Marco’s shaking like a leaf, looking for all the world like he might actually faint. He keeps himself anchored with his hands in Jean’s, obviously struggling to give Eren space to breathe just as much as Jean is.

Scooting close enough to rest his shoulder against Marco’s for support, Jean blinks back up at Eren, watching him bite his already chewed-down nails as he glares at the wall.

“Y-yeah, it’s.” Swallowing heavily, Eren hugs himself and turns to look out the window at the pouring rain, every part of him trembling. “I-I told you. It’s an ugly fucking story.” He shakes his head again, moving to lean on the windowsill, letting his forehead rest against the glass. “Heroin’s bad shit to begin with, but I just. I get hooked on shit, I always have. It’s the release. First drinking, then this... I was probably caught from the first fucking time I crammed that shit up my nose. Self-control goes out the window when I’m high. After a while, even needles kinda stopped seeming like such a bad idea.”

Even though he’s biting his lip against it, Marco’s tiny, breathy sobs still escape through his nose as he cries, clinging tightly to Jean. Eren peeks at them in the reflection on the window, sniffling quietly, and Jean hopes he doesn’t look as shell-shocked as he feels. He stares right back at Eren, trying as best he can to show that he’s still here, he’s still listening, and Eren’s watery gaze lingers on him before it falls to the wet pavement outside.

“The rest of it just kinda sounds like every other addict story,” Eren continues after a while, his hushed voice fogging the window. “Ended up basically homeless once things got bad, dropped out, sold everything I owned to get high, whatever. I felt great while I was up, but... whenever I came down, I crashed hard, worse than I used to. It was fucking awful. So, just like before...” Eren fists his hands on the windowsill, his knuckles blooming bone-white. “I did whatever I fucking had to to stay high. Take that however you want, whatever you can guess, I probably did.”

Swallowing quickly, Marco leans forward again and opens his mouth to say something, maybe to reassure him, but Eren holds up a hand again before he can.

“I know what you’re gonna ask,” he grits out. “I’m clean. I got a lot of blood tests while I was doing rehab later, and sometimes that included STD screening, so. I mean, I got my fair share of antibiotics at first, but I kept close tabs on that even after I finished rehab. Still STD-free as of last time I got tested, about two months ago. So don’t worry.”

Marco’s shoulders slump, deep, stabbing anguish written all across his expression at Eren’s words, the same thorny feeling filling Jean’s chest until it feels like it might burst. “B-baby,” Marco manages to breathe, a soft sob hitching the word. “T-that’s... that’s not what I was gonna ask.”

Blinking widely, Eren turns to glance at him over his shoulder, wincing at the way Jean and Marco are staring at him. “O-oh.”

“T-that—” Marco sniffs loudly, pulling his hands away from Jean’s so he can scrub at his tear-flushed eyes. “I-it never even—I d-didn’t think that, love.”

“Oh,” Eren repeats, turning to face them again. He leans back against the windowsill, gripping his elbow tightly, the pad of his thumb pressing a white imprint into the bright petals of the half sunflower inked over the crook of his elbow. “W-what were you gonna ask?”

Marco shakes his head, wiping fruitlessly at his soaked face as he whimpers, “I-I don’t—oh.” He blinks back up at Eren and asks, “J-just about that—that scar on your shoulder?”

“Y-yeah. That.” Swallowing quickly, Eren nods, reaching back to rest his fingers over the small, jagged scar high on his left shoulder blade he’s always shrugged off as nothing. “Yeah, uh. Pocket knife. Got stupid and desperate, tried to scam a dealer. Something must’ve been looking out for me, ‘cause the guy’s gun jammed, and the pocket knife was the only other thing he had on him, so.” Marco nods slightly, his teeth digging into his lip, and Eren’s gaze falls to the floor again, his shoulders tensing. “Sorry, Marco.”

“You d-don’t have to apologize to me for that,” the brunette replies thickly, dragging his trembling hands through his hair. “That kind of thinking, it’s not your f-fault.”

“S’pose not,” Eren murmurs, slowly scratching behind his ear. He pauses then, perhaps waiting for either Jean or Marco to speak up again, and when they don’t, he sighs shakily and continues. “S-so yeah. I stayed with a bunch of different people I didn’t know, pulled a whole lot of shady shit, did whatever I had to for a while. Lied a lot, too. Got myself kicked out of my dad’s house for it.”

“W-wait,” Jean blurts, his expression clearly appalled. “Your dad kicked you out?”

“Yup. Can’t say I blame him, either.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Eren bites his lip and shrugs, the movement just seeming to dwarf him further. “I was bad for the family. Took advantage of Mikasa and my parents more than a few times, and he wasn’t having it. Disowned me and all.”

“B-but you go to your mom’s house all the time,” Jean presses, raking his hands through his hair. “You were there last week.”

Eren nods, glancing up at Jean for a moment before he turns to stare at the wall again. “She sneaks me in. Dad’s stubborn as hell. He still doesn’t trust me, doesn’t want anything to do with me. But my mom, she’s an angel, I swear to god. A nervous wreck, yeah, but an angel nonetheless. She only asks me to come over when she’s sure my dad isn’t gonna be home.”

A brief, twitchy smile curves one corner of Eren’s lips at the thought, his distant gaze softening. “She started doing it when I was fresh out of rehab, still considered a flight risk. But that didn’t faze her. She really believed in me, you know. So she’d call Mikasa and have her drive me over so I could see her and play the piano for her.” As his shoulders finally start relaxing, Eren closes his eyes and hums, “’S probably one of the big reasons I made it out, got clean.”

“G-god, Eren,” Marco murmurs, reaching over for Jean’s hand again. Jean twines their fingers tightly, rubbing his thumb soothingly over Marco’s until he’s stopped shaking quite so much.

Eren tries to crack his neck again, tension seeping back into his posture as he draws breath to keep going. “A-anyway, yeah, after I got kicked out of my house, I, um.” He glances up at them again, spitting the next part out quickly, his words running together with a frantic sort of shame. “I-I slept around for a little while.” Nodding stiffly, Eren crosses his arms tightly and averts his eyes. “I eventually ended up in this, uh. I dunno, like a junkie commune, I guess?”

Even though it’s a word he’s slung around carelessly almost his whole life, Jean flinches at the slur, and he hears Marco exhale sharply too. Eren doesn’t seem to notice, though, too busy squinting and rubbing his neck as he tries to remember the details.

“I mean, it was an old condemned hotel, but it was more like a rotting drug kingdom than anything else. Filthy, holes through the floor, windows all broken and boarded up... all that.” Eren shrugs again, then starts restlessly bouncing his leg, his eyes tracking patterns all across the carpet between them. “There was a lady who ran the floor I ended up on. Heroin Plaza. Real nice lady, a good few years older than I was. Mid-thirties, maybe, but it’s hard to tell when everyone’s starving and dipping out. Anyway, her name was Angela. She took care of me.”

Eren glances up at them a few times, mulling over his words as he chews on his nails, his teeth slipping on the jagged edges. Marco tilts his head in question, earning himself a ragged sigh.

“Angie was... she was really good to me,” Eren murmurs finally, his gaze dropping back to his curled toes. “I loved her like crazy, I really did. High or not. She just... she got me, y’know, she understood why I needed to stay high, and she did what she could to help. But she never let me forget that I still had a chance to get out of all that.” Lightly rubbing his palm over his cheek, Eren sighs quietly, then breathes, “We would, um. Most nights, we’d shoot up and sing together until we passed out.”

Clearing his throat suddenly, Eren’s brow furrows as he tenses again, shaking himself out of that misguided daydream. “S-sorry,” he mumbles, shifting guiltily.

Neither Jean nor Marco really know what to say, so they just nod vaguely.

Allowing Eren his happy memories seems important, but even the happy memories are barbed sharp with the insurmountable cost of that life. Shit, they might even be more dangerous, if they shed a positive light of any kind on that time. Even so, neither of them want to rob him of that, so they remain carefully neutral, and although he doesn’t say anything, the way Eren relaxes slightly shows that he’d noticed.

“B-but yeah, um. By that point, I’d been out for maybe... two years?” Blinking up at the ceiling, Eren takes a deep, shaky breath, a tight frown darkening his face suddenly. “I was using a lot. So, uh. A-around Thanksgiving, I, um.”

Clearing his throat again, Eren buries his face in his shaking hands, taking a moment to get himself together before he drags his fingers back through his mussed hair and murmurs, “Around Thanksgiving, I overdosed. Bad.”

Marco’s breath catches, and Jean feels his stomach drop straight through the floor, pressing his cool, violently-shaking fingers to his lips as he leans his elbows on his knees. Beside him, Marco grips the hem of Jean’s t-shirt, his breath starting to hitch and waver as he starts crying again, unable to help it. Eren pointedly avoids their eyes, curling in on himself even further, and this time, the guilt and shame suffocating him seem bound, tightly ensnared by sharp, thorny fear, leaving him shaking again as he slides back into a crouch and hugs his knees to his chest.

“I-it was, uh.” Eren sucks on his lips, pressing the heels of his hands against his forehead. “It was really bad. Angie dragged me down a few streets and called the cops from a f-fucking sandwich shop, and once she was sure they were coming, she... she left me there.”

Jean starts to protest that, hurt and anger likely ready to twist his words into something worse than he means, but Eren’s quick to hold up his trembling hands in a placating gesture.

“I-it’s okay,” he wheezes, although he really doesn’t sound like it. “She did it so she wouldn’t give the police a good reason to raid the only shelter most of those people had left, and she was probably scared that she’d get arrested if she stayed. I don’t...” Swallowing thickly, Eren rests his head in his hands again and takes a deep breath. “I don’t blame her. Never have.”

His feathers still ruffled, Jean settles down again, although he’s still not entirely sure he agrees. Marco reaches over and squeezes his knee gently, the touch serving to soothe him further, until Jean slides his hand over Marco’s and laces their fingers again, seeking solidarity.

“I’m not really sure what happened, honestly,” Eren sighs, leaning his head back against the wall. “All I know is that I woke up in a hospital room with—w-with all these tubes in me, and everything felt like I got hit by bus... all I could hear was my pulse on the m-machine, and the beeping was too fast and too loud and I-I—I just wanted to get out and get high again.” Lacing his fingers loosely, Eren rests his crossed thumbs against his lips, the frown line still lingering between his eyebrows even as the rest of him paints a stark picture of exhaustion.

Marco licks his lips, squeezing Jean’s hand in a bid for strength before he quietly asks, “D-did you?”

“I did not,” Eren replies, snorting loudly as he closes his eyes, a crooked smile gracing the corner of his lips. “Turns out, Mikasa had been looking for me for a while, once she finally caught wind that I was still in town. And lucky me, she happened to be good friends with one of the EMTs that picked me up. The EMT didn’t recognize me, not with how fucking skinny I was.” Biting his lip, Eren pauses stiffly, then mumbles, “Like a paper bag of bones. It was bad.”

The shiver that runs down Jean’s spine at that makes him a little dizzy. He knows too well how that looks, and imagining Eren like that... he shudders again, trying his best to hide it.

Eren’s gorgeous, and he definitely knows it. He’s strong, muscular, but he’s still soft in some places, and he knows he drives both Jean and Marco fucking crazy with his incredible body. Thinking that that body was barely skin and bones at some point, weak and shaky and bruised all over...

Jean tries to wipe away fresh tears before either of his boyfriends notice them, although the effort might be rendered moot by the way he sniffs loudly. If either Marco or Eren notice, they don’t say anything about it.

“Angie had, um,” Eren says, shaking himself back on track so he can get through this. “Angie wrote my name on a piece of paper and stuck it to my chest. Didn’t know where my ID was at that point. Probably sold that too.” Breathing a tired sigh, Eren rests his elbows on his bent knees and laces his fingers over the back of his neck again, his eyes sliding closed. “So this EMT broke some laws or something and called Mikasa, and she was there when I woke up.”

Wincing slightly at that mental image, Jean scratches his cheek and asks, “What’d she say?”

“Hmm...” Wheezing a quiet laugh, Eren shakes his head and says, “Most of it isn’t fit to be repeated. She cried a little bit when I woke up, and told me how bad I’d scared her and Mom. Everything after that is a fairly violent blur.” He sighs again, then blinks up at the ceiling, his gaze wandering. “She knocked some sense into me, though, along with what Angie had been telling me for months. I’d told my parents a hundred times that I was gonna go to rehab and get clean before that, but the first time I actually meant it was when I told Mikasa right then. That’s where the key’s from, too, the rehab. It’s what that program gives people who finish the whole thing.”

“So Mikasa helped you?” Marco murmurs, leaning forward as Eren nods.

“She, um.” Licking his lips quickly, Eren flinches at the memory, then mumbles, “She was very persuasive about getting me to stay on track with it, especially after I got switched to outpatient. Physically persuasive. Armin too, which kinda surprised me.” As he rubs his hands down his face again, Eren sighs, “They both stuck with me all the way through it, despite all my kicking and screaming.”

“Y-you, um.” Marco clears his throat, fiddling awkwardly with a loose thread on the couch until Eren raises his eyebrows at him. “You didn’t want to?”

“Of course not,” Eren replies with a grimace. The expression is clearly aimed toward himself, though. “Withdrawal is fucking torture. Addiction totally rewires your brain, and everything changes around until your biggest subconscious priority is getting high. You stop caring about being hungry or thirsty, barely care about breathing. The only thing your brain wants is the release.”

Swallowing heavily, Eren pulls his hands into the bare space between his bent knees and his chest, curling tinier and tinier as his grimace deepens into an expression of absolute depression. He squints at his knees, chewing on his words for a moment longer, before he chokes out, “Th-that’s why addiction is a lifetime diagnosis. Once you’re an addict, you’re an addict for the rest of your damn life. It’s a part of you then, and you never get to stop being scared of relapsing. Some days it’s okay, barely noticeable.” Eren fidgets momentarily, rubbing his hands under his flushed, bloodshot eyes as fresh tears stream out. “S-some days... some days it’s a ball and chain. Controls your life.”

Jean nods, burying his hands in his hair. “And you can get triggered, right?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Eren hisses, casting his gaze aside. “Stuff you used to shoot up, like lighters or needles or fucking... spoons, some days. TV shows, or talking about shit that reminds you of it, or being in a place that you learned to associate with getting high...”

Stiffening suddenly, Marco breathes, “L-like... like being around alcohol? I-in a bar?”

Like a deer in headlights, Eren’s eyes widen as he licks his lips again, then casts a guilty look up at Marco, which is more than enough answer for him. Marco cups his hands over his mouth, staring at Eren speechlessly until he chokes out a muffled, “E-Eren... Eren, I-I’m—I’m so sorry, love, I—”

“You couldn’t have known, sweetheart,” Eren soothes, shakily scratching the back of his head. “There’s no way you could’ve known unless I told you. Which I didn’t.”

Jean shakes his head slowly, then squeezes his eyes closed, his mind spinning dizzyingly in the darkness behind his burning eyelids. “I-I get it, though,” he rasps, leaning forward onto his knees and burying his face in his hands. His shoulders shake as he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, his palms slipping through yet another wave of tears. “I get w-why you didn’t, fuck, I get it,” Jean gasps, curling forward more, and when he cries this time, he’s helpless against the sobs that wrack his tired frame and rob him of all but the shallowest, most insufficient breaths.

He’s hyperventilating, he realizes vaguely, but that fact gets shoved to the back of his mind when the floodgates burst and suddenly all he can think about is every shitty thing he’s ever said about his uncle, or addicts in general.

Burying his face in his knees, Jean struggles for air, and he chokes on his sister’s voice sneering ‘Uncle Junkie’ like that’s a fucking normal thing to call a human being. He grits his teeth on every foul, humorless joke he told when they were teenagers, drowning under the rushing tide of all the shitty words he’s ever slung around without really understanding them, and he feels like his lungs are filling up with the smoke burning off the screaming realization that that’s what he did to Eren.

That’s why Eren’s afraid of him.

And it’s not even something he can take back.

He learned to be spiteful and cruel from his family’s chronic pain and betrayal, and from their petty intolerance of addiction, and it never fucking hit him until right now just how horrible he’s been. And for years, too, more than a decade Eren’s had to listen to Jean’s stoned tirades about how weak and pathetic addicts are, like it’s something that doesn’t ruin them for the rest of their fucking lives.

Yeah, addicts can be shitty to those around them, but Jean’s pretty sure all of the horrid bullshit he’s ever spewed without thinking twice might actually be worse.

For fuck’s sake, Jean made Eren watch Breaking Fucking Bad. Now that he’s actually using his fucking brain, every goddamn second of that show is a substance abuse trigger of some kind, and Eren sat through five seasons of it, and five seasons of Jean’s hateful commentary. He sat through every night out at the bar, sat through the few lazy afternoons over the last year that Jean had spent getting high, sat through all of that without bringing it up once, and Jean can’t even fucking blame him.

Eren had been too afraid to say anything because more than a decade of experience has told him that Jean will absolutely fucking abhor him for something like this.

Somewhere outside the crushing sphere of his rapidly-spiraling panic attack, Jean hears Eren and Marco both urgently calling his name, petting his hair while he rocks back and forth, and when he flails one hand out in front of him, he finds Eren knelt there, trying to ease him off of it.

“G-god, god,” Jean gasps, pulling in big, heaving breaths that do nothing to calm him. Even Marco’s hand soothing over his back doesn’t make a dent in the thunderstorm crashing through his skull. “E-E-Eren, Eren, b-baby,” he sobs brokenly, both hands latching onto the brunette’s shoulders, before his spasming fingers clench into tight fists around the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck—” Jean lurches forward off the couch and into Eren’s lap, earning a startled yelp as they topple over onto the floor, but Jean’s not worried about that.

Eren thought Jean would hate him, and he had literally no reason to believe otherwise.

Jean buries his face in Eren’s neck and sobs, shaking violently atop his alarmed boyfriend, and when Eren squirms under him enough to arch his back off the floor, Jean’s quick to wrap his arms around Eren’s waist. He clings tightly, probably far too tight, based on Eren’s wheezing breath, but then the brunette’s trembling fingers are winding into Jean’s hair, and rubbing soothing circles over his shoulders, and his warm lips are pressed to Jean’s ear with softly-whispered comforts, concerned murmurs of his name, all sweet, gentle attempts to help him come back down.

For a long while, Eren lets Jean cry, holding him safely to his chest without rushing him or pressing him. Marco must be sitting beside them too, because his hands are rubbing up and down Jean’s spine again, then along his sides, the kind of slow, easy petting that Marco knows comforts him. Jean vaguely hears them whispering to each other, but he’s too fried to try and decipher the sounds just yet, so he just burrows deeper and shakes.

“Baby,” Eren soothes eventually, rubbing his fingers behind the blonde’s ear. “Jean, baby, it’s okay,” he murmurs against his ear, nudging his nose through the hair stuck with panicked sweat to Jean’s temple. “You coming back, love?”

Jean shivers against him, rattling out another pathetic sob. After all that, all that Eren had to relive, all the fear and pain and anxiety, Eren’s still the one stuck doing the comforting. Jean grits his teeth harshly, already choking on vile self-hatred, his muscles tightening, tensing almost painfully.

“Hey, hey, easy,” Eren says quickly, leaning back just enough to try and look at Jean. “Baby, what’s going on?”

Marco hums quietly as the blonde starts shaking again, slowly running his warm palms up and down Jean’s sore ribs, before he breathes, “Jean, hey, you’re okay—”

“I’m sorry,” Jean grits out, his thick breath harsh against Eren’s neck. “I-I’m so fucking sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—fuck, Eren—”

Making a soft, questioning sound, Eren presses his cheek against Jean’s temple for a moment before he whispers, “I-is that what this is?”

“Fuck, Eren,” Jean spits, tightening his grip on Eren’s shirt until his knuckles pop. “Of course it is, Christ, I-I’ve been—god, Eren, h-how could you stand me? I-I’m—fucking terrible to you,” he sobs weakly. He can barely string words together, his body still quaking with adrenaline, but he tries anyway, babbling over Eren’s low, steady voice. “I’m s-so fucking sorry, Eren, I’m so sorry, I’m—E-Eren, Eren...”

“Jean,” Eren presses, gently rubbing the nape of Jean’s neck. “Take a deep breath, c’mon—”

“No!” Squeezing the brunette even tighter and earning another wheeze, Jean shakes his head quickly and blurts, “H-how the fuck can I even t-try to make up for this, Eren, g-god—i-it’s my fault, s-scaring you, m-making you feel like we w-wouldn’t h-help you—a-all of it, all of it.”

“Jean, love,” Marco hums softly, leaning over him and resting his cheek on the blonde’s bony shoulder.

“No, no.” Shivering out a desperate, pleading sound, Jean shakes his head again, and a few more times for good measure. “I-if I h-hadn’t been so shitty—”

“Jean—”

“If I hadn’t been so shitty,” he repeats loudly, “W-we could’ve been t-taking better care of you, i-instead of d-dragging you to bars and m-making you drink and m-making you w-w-watch shit that’s n-not good for you—”

“Jean!” Eren this time, louder even than Jean, and he jostles the blonde insistently until he gets a good enough grip to lift him out of hiding. His palms pressed firmly to Jean’s cheeks, Eren stares up at him, watery, bloodshot eyes searching his until he breathes, “Baby, please don’t take all the blame for yourself, okay? Don’t. You had every reason to think less of people like me. But you’re still you, and I should’ve trusted you to understand everything I just told you way back when we started dating. I shouldn’t have abused your trust, or Marco’s either.” His eyes flick over to Marco briefly, who just shakes his head, then rests one hand on Eren’s forearm with a reassuring squeeze.

Shaking his head weakly, Jean sits up just enough that he can slide his own numb hands over Eren’s, curling over him as his eyes shutter closed. “I-I just repeated what my family kept saying,” he shivers out, his fingers squeezing Eren’s. “I was b-being an asshole.”

Eren sighs loudly, rubbing his thumbs over Jean’s wet cheeks for a moment. “Jean, can I tell you something?”

“A-anything, anything—”

“I met your uncle,” Eren grumbles, pointedly raising an eyebrow when Jean stares down at him again. “He passed through the same rehab as me for a while, I recognized the name. And dude, I gotta tell you, your uncle’s an ass.”

Marco groans quietly, but he lets Eren continue, going back to slowly petting Jean’s sides.

Humming softly, Eren slides one hand through Jean’s hair, gently combing through the tangles hidden there. “Listen, love,” he murmurs, keeping the blonde’s attention easily. “There are some people that you really can’t trust, and I won’t lie to you, people with active addictions might tell you anything to get what they need. I was definitely one of those people.” Trailing his knuckles down the side of Jean’s face, Eren sighs quietly, then continues, “There are some people who really want help, but there are also some people who have given up on life. Sometimes there are people who are both simultaneously.”

His brow furrowing in confusion, Jean squeezes Eren’s hand and turns to press soft, loving kisses into his warm palm, nuzzling his face there with a shaky exhale. “W-what’re you getting at?”

“What I mean is, from what I know of your uncle and the shit he pulled, it’s completely understandable for you and your family to be suspicious of addicts. And I let that fear rule me, at the cost of yours and Marco’s trust and my own well-being.” Jean swallows heavily, slowly blinking down at Eren, who hums and says, “I knew you were suspicious, and that that’s how you were raised, baby. I was there. But I also know you, and I should have trusted you enough to let you and Marco help me a long time ago.”

“I-I’m still sorry,” Jean whimpers, his lips trembling. “I’m sorry, Eren.”

“Jeeean,” Eren groans, and he reaches up and pinches Jean’s flushed cheeks with a soft huff. “Look, I forgive you, okay? I forgive you for being rightfully raised to be suspicious.”

Jean’s brow furrows deeper. “Y-you thought I was gonna hate you...”

Humming thoughtfully, Eren shifts his hands to scratch lightly behind Jean’s ears as his gaze wanders again. “I did, yeah, right when we came back from the bar. But babe, I’d just come scary close to old urges, so I wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind.” Jean blinks quickly, wrapping his shaking fingers around Eren’s wrists just to hold onto him.

“When I get like that, it’s...” Eren chews on his tongue, then mumbles, “It’s hard to see how far I’ve come since then. It’s hard to remember that I grew some self-esteem, and how hard I worked to get where I am. So yeah, I really thought you would hate me right then, and I was still scared for a few good reasons earlier today. I’d totally get it if you were, but I thought you’d be mad at me for hiding it, I thought you’d look at me differently once I told you what happened, I thought it’d scare you both away...” Eren reaches over and rests a hand on Marco’s knee with a grateful squeeze. “I was scared, yes, but I was more scared of what would happen to us if I kept lying to you than I was of you hating me.”

“I don’t,” Jean blurts, swallowing heavily. “I don’t hate you, Eren, I don’t, I swear.”

“And I believe you,” Eren soothes. “Thank you for that, love.”

His lips trembling, Jean scoots down so he can sprawl over Eren’s chest again, his fingers catching in the thin material of his boyfriend’s shirt. Eren wraps one arm around his shoulders, then reaches for Marco with the other, shyly drawing him close for a soft, sweet kiss. Marco meets him gladly, resting one hand on Eren’s cheek with a low hum as their lips linger warmly, then pressing them together again before he straightens up and shifts to lie on the floor beside them, his head propped up in his hand.

Jean leans up again once Marco’s settled, stretching closer so he can kiss Eren too, the tension in his chest easing significantly as the brunette melts for him, sighing against his lips and squeezing his narrow sides. “E-Eren,” he breathes between light brushes of their lips. Humming in response, Eren threads his fingers through Jean’s hair and pulls him down for more kisses, his other arm warm around Jean’s waist. Jean indulges some more, his fingers trailing along the strong line of Eren’s jaw before he pulls back again, relishing the soft sound their lips make when they part.

“Eren, I love you,” Jean murmurs, idly tucking a stray lock of hair behind Eren’s ear. “A-and I don’t blame you, you know that, right?”

“I know,” Eren hums, giving Jean a wide, warm smile. “I believe you, baby. You know I love you too, yeah?” Jean nods, dipping to steal more sweet kisses. “’M sorry I didn’t tell you,” Eren mumbles after a minute, glancing between Jean and Marco both.

Marco shakes his head, slowly running his free hand across Eren’s chest. “I get why you’d be afraid to tell us that, Eren. Even without Jean’s history. It’s... that’s a hard thing, I can’t even begin to imagine...”

Nodding vaguely, Eren catches Marco’s wandering hand and brings it to his lips for a few soft kisses. “Since I finished rehab and I’ve been clean for a few years, sometimes it’s easier to pretend it never happened, you know?” Jean and Marco both nod, and Eren shrugs lightly. “Most of the time, that’s what I do. But with you two... I-I dunno,” he mumbles, averting his gaze again. “I never really thought I’d get to be here, and I didn’t want to fuck anything up, not when things were going so well. And then things went from casual to serious, and I still didn’t know how to tell you, or what you’d think. Now it’s been a whole damn year, and I guess... I dunno, I think I’m just kinda starting to come undone around you guys.”

“How so?” Marco murmurs, shifting closer to press a gentle kiss to the corner of Eren’s eye.

Eren shrugs again, then slides a hand into Marco’s soft hair with hum, winding his fingers through smooth black strands while he gets his thoughts in order. “I guess I just stopped working so hard to hide things recently, I think,” he sighs finally. “Started letting you guys see more of me, but there’s only so much I can let you see before the big elephant in the room comes tumbling out.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Jean fiddles with the collar of Eren’s shirt for a moment before he says, “You started trusting us more.”

“God, is that what that is?” Eren snorts, tossing Jean a crooked grin. “And here I thought I was just losing my mind.”

“I’m glad you started trusting us, love,” Marco murmurs, nuzzling Eren’s temple between warm kisses. “And thank you for trusting us with this, too, I know it wasn’t easy.”

“God no.” Groaning softly, Eren lets his eyes slide closed again. “My heart was fucking pounding, man.”

“You won’t regret it, Eren,” Jean says, peering up at his boyfriend and biting his lip. “I swear, you won’t. ‘S like Marco said, knowing about this is just gonna help us love you better.” Eren smiles softly, gently tugging Jean down so he can press his lips against his forehead, uncaring for the bare, lingering salt of the blonde’s sweat.

Marco hums his agreement. “We have a much better idea of what you need, too. I mean, I still have a lot of questions,” he mumbles, combing his fingers through Eren’s bangs, “But I think I’m gonna leave them for another time, if that’s okay by you.” Eren nods gratefully, his fingers still idly moving through Marco’s hair. “Until then, if you need anything else, please let us know, okay?”

Breathing a loud, clearly relieved sigh, Eren squirms under Jean, his eyes squeezed shut tight. “God, the both of you, I’m so f-fucking lucky...”

“We all are,” Marco hums, smiling warmly at the both of them. He ducks to kiss Eren’s cheek, nuzzling his ear. “I love you, Eren.”

“Love you too,” Eren replies bashfully, his cheeks flushing warm beneath Marco’s soft lips as they brush along his cheekbone. “You too, goober,” he continues, gently jostling Jean. “’M crazy about you both.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Jean murmurs, claiming Eren’s lips again with yet more loving whispers, the words so, so sweet between their lips.

After a few minutes of this, Eren stretches lazily and yawns, still exhausted from telling them everything. Jean shifts just enough to let him stretch more fully, soothingly scratching behind Eren’s ear, before he blurts, “I-I’m still sorry, you know.”

“Ohhh, sweet Jesus, Jean,” Eren groans, tilting his head back dramatically. “You know how I feel about apologies for days...” He flicks Jean’s nose, then laughs, “Seriously, baby, I forgive you. Like I said, ‘s not entirely your fault, and you proved to be capable of more than just repeating what your family taught you.”

“Yeah, okay...” Fidgeting slightly, Jean chews on his lip for a few seconds, and just when Eren’s settling comfortably again, Jean wheezes, “Still sorry, though.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Eren barks, right before he flips them over with a quick twist of his hips. Jean yelps, staring wide-eyed up at his boyfriend as Eren says, “Every time you apologize, I’m gonna give you a giant purple hickey right where all your students can see it and give you a hard time for it.”

“Oho,” Marco snorts, resting his chin in his palm, a teasing grin spreading across his lips. “Breaking out the serious threats.”

“Eren,” Jean wheedles, reaching up to press his hand right over Eren’s face. “They’ll never leave me alone, and I really am sorry—”

“You were warned.” Shaking Jean’s hand off, Eren laughs, then ducks quickly into the blonde’s neck, immediately sinking his teeth into pale skin far above the line of his shirts, which earns him a strangled squeak.

--

After a few days of intense, unconditional love and reassurance, Eren’s bitten-down key safely finds its way back into its box in their closet, having more than served its purpose as a much-needed reminder of how far he’s come.

Now, the strong hands held tightly in each of his take its place, each serving as a warm, loving symbol of how much of their lives they still have in front of them, of how far they can still go together.

Healing will take time, of course, as will figuring out how best to move forward from here. There are still questions to be answered, holes to fill in, more than a fair few habits to be broken and reformed in the coming months.

For now, they have more time and love and patience than they know what to do with, and that seems like a decent enough place to start.

Chapter Text

When Eren comes home from work, it’s fairly early in the afternoon, and the quiet apartment is bathed in warm, lazy late-summer sunlight streaming in through the windows. He glances around as he kicks his shoes off, then calls out for his boyfriends, just in case the apartment isn’t as empty as it looks.

“In the bath,” comes Marco’s voice, echoing softly from the bathroom. Unsurprisingly, Jean isn’t home yet, still trapped in the messy process of wrapping up the summer terms and preparing for the fall. Marco, proactive as always, had managed to neatly tie up his own loose ends earlier in the week, so he’s had a relative abundance of free time to devote to whatever his heart desires.

As Eren wanders into the bathroom, Marco smiles up at him from the book he’d been reading, eyes shining over his glasses, his finger marking his place on the page. “Hey,” he greets cheerfully, pulling his feet down from the other corner of the tub, where his ankles had been crossed lazily. “You looking to take a shower? I can get out.”

Shrugging idly, Eren pulls his shirt off and tosses it in the vague direction of the hamper, then asks, “You been in there long?”

“Mm, a while. Not too pruny, though.”

Eren grins crookedly, sliding his hands into his pockets as he cants his hips casually forward, more than aware of the familiar way his boyfriend’s eyes scan over him, briefly checking him out. “That’s ‘cause your hands aren’t in the water.”

“Good point,” Marco laughs, conceding easily.

Eren takes a moment to look him over in return, his gaze lingering thoughtfully on the clear water before he reaches out to the side, where a big glass jar filled with colorful bath bombs rests on the counter beside the sink. He raises his eyebrows as he draws the tip of his finger along the rim of the jar, both a request and an invitation put forth without words.

Marco’s smile widens before he holds his book up again and moves to finish his paragraph, his lips moving along with the words serving as Eren’s cue to hold on a minute. Eren leans back against the counter, his hand resting idly on the jar’s lid, content to watch Marco mumble something vaguely philosophical-sounding.

Once he’s hit a good stopping point, Marco closes the book with a smart snap and hands it out to Eren. “Page one-twenty-four. Don’t let me forget?”

He won’t. Marco never does. Still, being trusted with something even as simple as this has never failed to bring a steady warmth to Eren’s chest. With a pleased smile, he nods and takes the book, laying it on the counter behind himself. “Which one?”

“Hmm...” Marco sit up and pushes his glasses up his nose, squinting through them at the jar. “I dunno. Isn’t it your turn to pick, anyway?”

Eren shrugs lazily, then turns to the jar and opens the lid, reaching in and grabbing one of the powerful-smelling bath bombs at random. He never can keep track of which one is which before they’re in the water, anyway.

“So scientific,” Marco teases, taking the simple-looking green ball and dropping it right in the water between his bent knees. It fizzes and bubbles wildly, immediately filling the bathroom with a pleasantly zesty smell.

Eren leans over to look at it with an interested hum, watching soft green tendrils curl through the warm water, clouding over where Marco’s fingers are loosely laced together between his thighs. Marco’s not watching the bomb, though, choosing instead to tilt his head and give Eren a warm, enigmatic sort of smile, his eyes all soft and loving for no real reason other than because he can.

As always, that expression leaves Eren more than a little flustered, but he shakes it off and stands up straight again with a toothy grin. Marco rests his elbow on the edge of the tub, leaning his chin in his hand as he asks, “So, are you coming in, or am I supposed to be putting on a show?”

“Well, shit,” Eren snorts, “If you’re offering.”

Marco beams at him and holds his hand out expectantly. “Five dollars.”

Eren laughs loudly, dragging one hand through his mussed hair as he snickers, “That’s it? Babe, with that ass, you could be a millionaire.”

“You get a discount, ‘cause you’re cute,” Marco replies simply, leaning over and reaching for Eren’s knee. His fingers catch in a loose fold in his jeans, enough to grab hold and drag him closer, tongue stuck out playfully. Eren lets himself be pulled into Marco’s reach, unable to shake the smile spreading wider and wider across his face.

Shifting up onto his knees, Marco bites his lip and plucks at the button on Eren’s jeans, waiting for the brunette to nod his permission before he deftly unfastens his pants, then pulls them down off his hips. He stretches to press a warm, loving kiss to Eren’s hip, nuzzling against his dark skin, lightly running the tip of his nose up the line of soft curls leading down into his boxers as he pushes Eren’s pants to the floor.

With the exceptionally cuddly mood Marco seems to be in, these touches are probably entirely innocent, but something in Eren still curls hotly at the way Marco’s skin feels rubbing against his so affectionately.

“Careful there,” he murmurs, gently sliding his fingers into Marco’s hair. Marco just blinks up at him and grins, though, lightly snapping the waistband of Eren’s boxers against his skin with his teeth before he leans back to ease those down as well.

Kicking his clothes aside, Eren watches Marco sit down again, then shift back to give Eren room to join him. There’s plenty of room in his usual spot at the other end of the tub, but Eren just squints at it for a moment, lips pursed thoughtfully. When he climbs in, he settles himself between Marco’s bent knees instead, then scoots back until he can lean his back against his boyfriend’s chest. Marco gives a surprised hum, but he adjusts quickly, shifting his thighs to let Eren get closer before he wraps his arms around his narrow waist and sighs happily.

“That okay?” Eren asks sheepishly once he’s settled, leaning his head back to glance up at him.

“I’m good if you are,” Marco replies, before he ducks to kiss Eren’s cheek, squeezing him a little tighter. Eren smiles up at him, tilting his chin up for a proper kiss, which Marco is more than happy to supply. He kisses him a few more times, light, loving brushes of their lips, before he hums and nuzzles Eren’s cheek. “I love you,” he whispers, his breath warm along the angle of Eren’s jaw, soothing him yet further.

Eren lets his eyes slide closed as he leans into his boyfriend’s affection, his hands resting atop Marco’s bent knees and squeezing as he murmurs the words back. Marco purrs contently at that, then sits up straight so he can rest his chin atop Eren’s head.

“So,” Eren hums after a few minutes of comfortable, fragrant silence, “What’d you get up to today?”

“Not much.” Marco lets his hands wander across Eren’s chest, trailing his knuckles along his stomach as he thinks. “Did some reading for this coming semester, emailed some professors, you know. Same old.”

Eren shakes his head with a laugh. “You have all this free time now, and you’re still doing schoolwork?”

“I’ve forgotten how to do anything else,” Marco snickers, turning to rest his cheek against the top of Eren’s head instead. “Grad school does that to people.”

“Sounds like madness to me.”

“Mm, maybe.” Sighing contently and lacing his fingers over Eren’s stomach, Marco taps his thumbs against his boyfriend’s damp skin and asks, “What about you? How was work?”

Shrugging lazily, Eren replies, “Well, nothing broke and no one yelled, so that’s a good day right there.” Eren shifts around slightly, enough that he can lean his head back onto Marco’s shoulder, letting himself relax further into his boyfriend’s warm embrace. “Thought of some new lyrics on the way home, too.”

“Oh?” Marco blinks down at Eren, lightly scratching his nails through the soft hair on his stomach. “I didn’t derail you, did I?”

Eren shakes his head, squeezing Marco’s knees reassuringly. “Nah, I wrote them down on my phone. I’ll get back to it later.” He grins up at Marco and, before he can ask, adds, “Yes, I’m sure.”

Poking his lower lip out, Marco blows a soft raspberry against Eren’s cheek and grumbles, “Just makin’ sure.”

“I appreciate it, babe.” Sighing slowly, Eren lets his eyes slide closed, obviously enjoying his boyfriend’s wandering touches. “When’s Jean coming home?”

“Mm, not sure,” Marco murmurs, pressing his lips to Eren’s cheek again. “You could text him?”

Eren nods, then sits up and leans over the edge of the tub, tugging his pants back over so he can pull his phone out of the pocket. He gets himself settled, kicking his feet up onto the corner of the tub as Marco folds him in his arms again, before he pulls up his text conversation with Jean. Unsurprisingly, a sizable portion of their recent texts involve Eren sending Jean memes and Jean groaning at length in response. Marco snickers at that, resting his head against Eren’s to watch him type out a brief ‘come home nerdbucket’ to their boyfriend.

While Eren and Jean text back and forth, Marco keeps himself entertained by dragging lazy kisses along Eren’s cheek, up his ear, and down along the turn of his jaw, each brush of his soft lips undeniably affectionate. Eren hums contently and tilts his head aside, freely giving Marco access to his slender neck. Marco takes him up on his unspoken invitation, drawing his lips further down his boyfriend’s warm skin, letting them linger on the bend of his shoulder.

Ever since the big talk they’d had earlier in the month, where Eren had come clean about his past, and after which they’d all asked each other’s forgiveness in turn, Marco’s been unusually affectionate with both of his boyfriends. Neither of them mind it in the least, nor do they hesitate to return it in droves.

It had taken a while for the initial feeling of overwhelming vulnerability to fade, especially for Eren, but Jean and Marco both have made good on their word to use the information to love him better. With their continuous support and acceptance, and the strength he lends them in return, they’ve all made great strides toward being okay again, and the bonds between the three of them are nothing if not strengthened for it.

Even now, almost a month after the talk, Marco’s still wonderfully liberal with his tender affection and loving words, and even though it leaves Eren flushed and tongue-tied, the gentle, unconditional reminder that he’s in love and loved in return has started to settle deeper, more permanently into his soul.

The concept of ‘forever’ has always been kind of terrifying to Eren, but his own definition of the word is starting to look an awful lot like Jean’s and Marco’s fingers laced tightly with his.

From: Jean
pls come hit me over the head with a chair so i can get out of this meeting and come home

Eren snorts loudly, which draws Marco’s attention away from warm, dark skin. He looks at Eren’s phone, then sits up further with a soft laugh, his fingers lightly pinching Eren’s sides. “Looks like he’s close to quitting time, then.”

Nodding at that, Eren taps out a quick reply involving John Cena before he leans his head back onto Marco’s shoulder again with a grin. “I probably shouldn’t send him a nude pic, huh.”

“That’d be cruel and unusual,” Marco snickers, tickling Eren’s stomach playfully. “Maybe once he’s on his way home. You have new ones?”

In response, Eren just sticks his tongue out through his teeth and wiggles his eyebrows, then opens his phone’s camera and holds it up, leaving Marco blinking widely at himself over his glasses on the dim screen. Eren flashes the camera a sharp, crooked grin, exactly the kind that usually leaves Jean whining about ‘unfair hotness’ and melting across furniture, and takes a picture before Marco can make any face other than vague, amused surprise. To Eren’s credit, it’s still a good picture, between Marco’s hands resting comfortably on his stomach and way the bottom edge just barely teases at the base of Eren’s cock under the colorful bathwater.

“Mm, you’re so photogenic,” Marco sighs. “That’s a good one.” Eren nods absently, then rubs his thumb across his screen to wipe off the fingerprints over Marco’s face, a sneaky little smile curling the corners of his lips. His warm adoration comes through even without the help of his words, and Marco flushes under it, tightening his arms around Eren’s waist and bashfully nudging his nose behind the brunette’s ear.

“Think that’ll get him to come home faster?” Eren asks after a minute, grinning over his shoulder.

“Of course,” Marco chuckles, “But he might come home dying of thirst.”

Eren shrugs lazily, setting his phone on the edge of the tub so he can relax into Marco’s arms again, his eyes sliding contently closed. “’S fine with me. He looked good enough to eat when I was trying to leave for work anyway.”

“At five in the morning? That’s surprising.”

“You did too, you know,” Eren laughs, a grin spreading across his face as he squeezes Marco’s knees. “Both of you made it hard to leave this morning, unconscious or not.”

Marco hums warmly, brushing his lips against the corner of Eren’s closed eye. “Sounds to me like you just woke up in a mood.”

“Maybe,” Eren snorts. “Maybe I just wake up next to two wildly attractive dudes every day.”

“Such a struggle,” Marco snickers as he digs his fingers into Eren’s sides again, earning himself a startled peep from his squirming boyfriend.

“Well, yeah,” Eren wheezes, before he frees himself from Marco’s arms and turns to face him, unconcerned for the water splashing and sloshing around the rim of the tub. “It makes leaving almost impossible,” he continues, pressing on Marco’s knees to get him to straighten his legs out some so Eren can straddle him, perching comfortably in his lap with a wide grin. “But it also gives me something to look forward to when I come back, so I’m cool with it.”

Laughing warmly, Marco rests his hands on Eren’s hips and scoots down in the tub slightly, pulling him further into his lap so he can hold him and kiss him more easily. “As long as the benefits outweigh the costs,” he says, loosely wrapping his arms around Eren’s waist.

“Damn right they do,” Eren rumbles, sliding his arms around Marco’s shoulders and ducking to catch his lips, happily relaxing into his embrace.

Marco sighs contently as they kiss, slowly trailing his palms up Eren’s back, spreading his fingers across soft, dark skin, before he tilts his head slightly and slips his tongue out against Eren’s lips, deepening the kiss with a hum. Eren responds in kind, tangling his fingers in Marco’s hair as he shivers and arches his back under his boyfriend’s petting.

Just as Marco’s hands slide down Eren’s back again, as his fingers dip beneath the water to curve around his ass and pull him yet closer, Eren’s phone rumbles and chirps against the edge of the tub, likely signaling another text from their boyfriend. That prospect leads Eren to respond to the sound significantly more charitably than he normally would, pulling away from Marco’s lips with another, lighter kiss before he turns to grab the phone.

From: Jean
i am FREE
for a few days
you and boy still home?

Eren bites his lip around a grin at the question, choosing to just send the picture he’d taken as a response. As he’s doing so, Marco kisses softly across Eren’s cheek again, then drops his lips to the crook of the brunette’s neck. He drags hot, wet kisses up the line of Eren’s slender throat, groaning softly against his pulse at the way his boyfriend melts in his lap. Eren’s eyes flutter closed at the feeling, his head dropping back to offer more of himself to Marco.

With as distracting as Marco’s mouth feels on his skin, Eren nearly drops his phone in the bath. It beeps again before he loses his grip, though, Jean’s reply luckily drawing his attention.

Pulling himself together slightly, Eren holds his phone up and reads Jean’s message, then tosses it back toward his pants without replying. “He’s heading home now,” he murmurs, tugging on Marco’s hair until he leans up for more kisses, his hands squeezing Eren’s ass as their tongues tangle again. “’Bout twenty minutes,” Eren says between languid kisses, pressing their chests together and rocking slightly in Marco’s lap, his now-hard cock resting easily against the brunette’s soft stomach.

“Good,” Marco rumbles, nipping gently at Eren’s lower lip, using his grip on his boyfriend’s ass to pull their hips flush together, his own arousal resting along the join of Eren’s thigh. Eren shivers at the feeling and presses closer, wrapping his arms around Marco’s neck with a low moan. Nudging his nose against Eren’s, Marco brushes their lips together a few more times, one arm sneaking up to wrap firmly around the brunette’s narrow waist before he asks, “You wanting anything in particular?”

Eren hums thoughtfully, licking his flushed lips, only slightly distracted by the way Marco’s dark eyes watch the movement. “Yeah,” he replies after a moment. “If he’s in the mood, kinda felt like fucking him through the mattress.” Marco moans softly, his eyes flickering shut and his hands tightening slightly on Eren’s body before he nods and pulls his boyfriend into another slow, messy kiss, his cock twitching against Eren’s hip.

“I-I think he’d like that,” Marco mumbles between kisses, “’S been a while since he bottomed, anyway, he must be losing his mind.”

“What about you?” Eren asks, rubbing his thumbs along Marco’s cheeks. “What d’you want?”

Marco grins widely, blinking up at his boyfriend as he sighs, “Honestly, I kinda just wanna watch that.” Before Eren can poke his lower lip out, already pouting slightly at the idea of Marco just observing, he leans up to sneak another quick kiss, then says, “But after that, I wouldn’t mind tagging in.”

His eyes narrowed in thought, Eren asks, “On Jean or me?”

“Dunno,” Marco murmurs, shrugging idly. He shifts his hands to slide slowly up and down Eren’s sides, squeezing gently as he does so. “We’ll see how things play out. You in that kind of mood?”

“Maybe,” Eren muses, dragging his thumb over the corner of Marco’s lips as he ponders. “Kinda liking how you feel between my thighs right now.”

Marco laughs softly, then bites his lip and rocks his hips up against Eren’s, earning a rumbling, pleased sigh. “Kinda liking how you look with me between your thighs,” he teases in return, ducking back into Eren’s neck with a low moan.

Satisfied with that for now, Eren tilts his head back and breathes his boyfriend’s name, tangling the fingers of one hand into soft black hair. Between hot, slow kisses pressed against Eren’s throat, Marco breathes sweet love against flushed skin, holding him closer against his chest as if hoping to feel Eren’s pulse flutter in time with his own.

In interest of waiting for Jean, Eren and Marco take their time languidly making out in the bath, sliding their hands slowly across warm, wet skin, hips rocking lazily together. Thankfully, they don’t have to wait too long before the sound of the front door opening cuts through the humid air, shortly followed by Jean calling for them.

Pulling away from Eren’s lips with a crooked grin, Marco slides his hands around to squeeze the brunette’s ass again, then tilts his head aside and calls, “In here!”

While his head’s leaned back, Eren takes the opportunity to drag his mouth down Marco’s throat, grinding his cock against the brunette’s stomach more firmly. He runs his hands over Marco’s shoulders, down his arms as he rocks in his lap, tracing soft skin down until he can wrap his fingers around Marco’s wrists.

When he pulls gently, Marco lets Eren move his hands off his ass, but before he can ask about it, Eren rolls his hips forward again and gently pins Marco’s wrists to the cool tile wall on either side of his head. Marco exhales shakily at the light restraint, pressing his hips up into Eren’s steady, rhythmic grinding.

Somewhere through the growing fog of arousal, Marco hears Jean come to the bathroom door, then curse under his breath at the enticing sight his boyfriends make. He opens his eyes and throws the blonde a flustered grin, spreading his fingers and wiggling them to make sure Jean notices.

“Should’ve known,” Jean mumbles before he comes to kneel beside the tub, reaching over to run his fingers through Eren’s shaggy hair as he leans in to kiss Marco. He flicks his tongue between Marco’s parted lips, then nips gently at his lower lip, too quick for Marco to catch and deepen. When Jean pulls back, Marco whines and leans after him slightly, but Eren chooses that moment to pull off the dark hickey he’d been working into Marco’s shoulder. He grins and releases one of Marco’s wrists, then turns and tugs Jean into a deep, messy kiss, moaning softly at the way Jean eagerly falls into him.

Swallowing heavily, Marco licks his lips and rubs his hips up against Eren, ducking to gently nip at the brunette’s collarbone. He soothes away any sting with his tongue, then sits back to watch Eren and Jean make out with a low groan. His eyes move from where Eren’s hand is fisted so firmly in Jean’s hair, just enough to have the blonde melting for him, to where Jean’s fingers play across the hollow of Eren’s throat, then down to lightly pinch his pierced nipple, his careful touch earning him another breathy moan.

Jean revels in his boyfriend’s reactions for a moment longer, a sharp smile curling the corners of his lips even as he parts them against Eren’s, before he drops his hand to Eren’s lap and loosely wraps his fingers around his aching cock. Eren chokes on a stuttered breath, his hips hitching up against Jean’s hand, then growls low in his throat, pulling Jean harder against him by his hair.

He gives Eren a few slow strokes, the sound of his knuckles dipping in and out of the bath a faint note in the background, then reaches into the water and curves his palm over Marco’s arousal where it’s still cradled in the hollow of Eren’s inner thigh. Marco sighs warmly at the feeling, grinding up against his boyfriends as his eyes slide closed. With a quiet moan, Jean slowly rubs his hand against Marco, the friction of skin on skin eased by the soft, warm bathwater. Eren huffs and nips at Jean’s lips in the absence of the blonde’s hand on him, at which Jean breathes a low, smoky laugh.

“Here,” Jean murmurs, regretfully pulling his hand away from Marco’s cock to press it against Eren’s stomach. “Scoot back a bit.”

Blinking blearily, Eren stares at Jean for a moment before he does so, inching back along Marco’s thighs somewhat morosely. Once there’s enough space, Jean drops his hand to circle the base of Eren’s cock, now mostly jutting out of the water, and he gives him one more long, lazy stroke before he leans down between his boyfriends and wraps his lips around the head of Eren’s dick.

“Oh, fuck, Jean,” Eren sighs, his fingers threading deeper into tangled blonde, his formerly rough grip now gentle, encouraging. He rocks his hips up into Jean’s mouth, shivering slightly, then curls his free fingers under Marco’s chin to pull him far enough forward to kiss. Curved over Jean’s slowly bobbing head, Marco moans against Eren’s lips, resting his hand on the brunette’s cheek as he deepens the kiss easily.

Jean sucks Eren down eagerly, curving his pierced tongue around him as best he can at this angle, and once he’s comfortably taking as much of him as he can without submerging himself, Jean moves his hand back to Marco’s cock. He strokes him steadily, moving his hand in time to his mouth on Eren, more than fueled by the sounds of their moans melting together above him.

Pulling back with a shivering gasp, Eren leans his forehead against Marco’s and lets his eyes shutter closed as Jean hollows his cheeks around him. He takes a moment to get it together, flicking his tongue out against Marco’s flushed lips as he does, before he leans back and watches Jean’s head move between them, biting his own lip and pressing his hips up into his boyfriend’s hot, wet mouth. Marco’s hands have found their way back to Eren’s ass, he notes, but their firm grip just makes him hotter. Moaning breathlessly, Eren tilts his head back and closes his eyes for a moment, then tightens his grip on Jean’s hair and mumbles his name, tugging enough to get his attention.

Jean pulls off and sits up quickly, licking his slick lips before asking, “Yeah?”

Eren groans for the loss, almost tempted to push Jean’s head back down, but he pulled him off for a reason. He rests his forehead against Jean’s, swallowing heavily, then breathes, “Can I fuck you, baby?” his voice rough, undeniably heated. Jean shivers against him, squeezing his eyes shut, before he’s nodding against Eren and gasping out his enthusiastic approval.

More than ready to get things going, Marco gives Eren’s ass another firm squeeze, then moves to push him up by his hips, just enough to suggest moving. Eren curls his tongue into Jean’s mouth once more before he complies, standing carefully and stepping out onto the bath mat. Jean, still kneeling, wrangles him closer by his hips, immediately swallowing down Eren’s cock once he’s close enough.

This angle is significantly easier to work with, so Jean does, letting his eyes flutter closed as he bobs his head along his boyfriend’s cock, once more encouraged by Eren’s hands in hair, tugging lightly as he shivers out quiet, pretty sighs. Jean moans around his mouthful, then scoots closer and spreads his knees further apart, shamelessly dropping one hand to palm at his own hard cock where it’s trapped down the leg of his jeans. He shifts his other hand to the base of Eren’s cock, leaving him free to move his hips if he wants to, although Jean takes care of that too when he buries his nose in dark curls and swallows him purposefully. Eren chokes helplessly at the feeling, his eyes fluttering as Jean starts moving again, before he focuses once more on his boyfriend’s concentrated expression, on his flushed, wet lips.

Marco, having been entranced by how good Jean looks sucking Eren off, turns just to let the water out of the bath before he climbs out to stand behind Eren, rubbing his arousal against the curve of his ass. He rests his warm hands on Eren’s hips, then ducks to press hot, slow kisses down his neck again.

Between Marco’s tempting grinding and the sensuous drag of Jean’s lips and tongue along his cock, Eren finds that his knees are shaking dangerously, his body held steady only by his boyfriends’ hands and mouths on him. He knows they won’t let him collapse, but it’s still somewhat precarious, so he laughs breathlessly and mumbles, “F-fuck, I’m gonna fall over.”

“Yeah?” Marco chuckles against his ear, his voice so low and so alluring, Eren can’t help but shiver. “Should we keep moving?”

Eren just groans at the idea of losing contact with Jean’s mouth again, but the blonde makes the decision for him when he pulls off his cock to gasp roughly, the heel of his hand riding firmly along the straining ridge his arousal makes in his pants. Marco moans softly at the sight, reaching down to curl his fingers loosely around Eren’s slick cock in Jean’s stead.

“L-let’s—” Jean stammers, interrupting himself with an enticing little whimper. “B-bed, bed,” he murmurs a second later, dragging his hand away from himself to rip his shirt off.

Grinning widely, Marco nods and reaches down to help Jean stand, sliding around Eren to catch the blonde’s lips in a playful kiss. Jean wraps himself easily around Marco, already entirely distracted by his boyfriend’s teeth and tongue. Before they can get too far, though, Marco pulls back with a quiet hum and tugs his water-spotted glasses off, tossing them atop his forgotten book on the counter.

He pushes his boyfriends out into the bedroom, then crawls across the bed to make himself comfortable sitting up against the headboard, his cock flushed, half-hooded and achingly hard against his stomach. The sight makes Jean’s eyes glaze over slightly, but before he can trip over to Marco and put his mouth on every beautiful part of him, he shakes his head clear and turns back to Eren, burying his hands in his shaggy hair and dragging him close enough to kiss.

Eren guides Jean back toward the bed, his attention unevenly divided between kissing, undoing Jean’s pants, and walking, and when Jean’s legs hit the bed, he lets Eren lean further forward, bending Jean back slightly in his enthusiasm.

Fumbling fingers finally manage the catch of his pants, and Eren carefully eases the zipper down, ever mindful of Jean’s disdain for underwear. He slides his hand down into the blonde’s jeans and gently frees his arousal with a practiced flick of his wrist, pausing to rub his thumb against the sensitive skin between the studs of Jean’s slick piercing, which earns him a shivering gasp of his name pressed against his lips.

Grinning widely, Eren nips lightly at Jean’s lips, then drops right to his knees so he can work Jean’s tight pants the rest of the way off. Jean exhales roughly, combing Eren’s mussed bangs back off his face.

Before Eren can return Jean’s earlier favor, though, he realizes that Marco probably can’t see that well over the edge of the bed. He licks his lips and stands up again, and Jean’s disappointed whine is almost immediately cut off by the squeak he emits when Eren grabs him by the thighs, just under his ass, and lifts him right off the ground. Marco groans softly at that, his own weakness for Eren’s strength obvious, and Eren flashes him a crooked grin before he climbs up onto the bed and dumps Jean across the foot of it.

Seeming to realize what Marco’s immediate plan is, Jean shivers and arches his back, more than aware of what the graceful curve of his spine away from the sheets does to Marco when he can see it this clearly. Jean bites his lip around a grin and pulls Eren closer by his shoulders, eagerly wrapping his thighs around Eren’s waist and rocking up against him as he leans up and catches his lips again.

Eren groans roughly at the bare friction between them, settling over Jean on his elbows so he can fuck his tongue between the blonde’s flushed lips as he grinds steadily against him, their cocks sliding together enticingly.

Ever the helpful one, Marco crawls forward and drops the lube beside them, along with one of Eren’s condoms. Eren shoots him a grateful grin, sitting back on his heels to grab the lube, but before Marco can slide away again, Jean breathes his name and reaches for him, the tips of his fingers brushing over his bent knee.

Biting his lip around a widening smile, Marco leans over Jean and catches his flushed lips in a warm kiss, soothing his hand lazily across the blonde’s bony chest. Eren watches them for a moment, sighing contently before he dips to drag languid, teasing kisses down Jean’s stomach.

As he makes his way down, his kisses growing hotter and wetter, Eren slides his hands over Jean’s smooth skin, more than a little affected by the way his boyfriend’s squirming under him already, his thighs spreading eagerly. Jean’s humming quietly against Marco’s lips, his fingers tangled in soft, dark hair, when Eren nuzzles his face right against his cock, then drags his tongue slowly up his length, cleverly flicking it against the stud resting in the precome pooling at the tip. Jean shivers and arches at that, whimpering Eren’s name between kisses, and when Eren hums and wraps his lips around Jean’s cock, the blonde pulls back from Marco’s lips to gasp out a pretty moan for them.

Marco settles comfortably beside Jean to watch Eren work, reaching down to thread his fingers into Eren’s hair encouragingly as he bobs his head slowly over Jean’s cock. Jean watches blearily for a moment, then lets his head fall back into the sheets, panting soft praise and melting under Eren’s attention. Licking his flushed lips, Jean tugs Marco close again, at which he chuckles before he obliges Jean with more kisses.

As Eren’s keeping his steady rhythm with his mouth, he coats his fingers with lube, then leans up on one elbow to give himself room to slide the slick tips of his fingers over Jean’s entrance. Jean shivers at that, his thighs tensing on either side of Eren before he pulls his knees back farther, giving him better access. Shifting closer, Eren ducks to take more of Jean’s cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and rubbing his tongue along the sensitive underside, and as Jean’s going boneless under him, Eren presses the tip of one finger into his boyfriend.

Between Eren’s incredible mouth, Marco mirroring Jean’s breathless moans against his lips, and Jean’s own rising need to feel his boyfriend inside of him, Jean relaxes around Eren’s finger fairly easily, quick to rock down into his steady rhythm in anticipation of more. Eren works a second finger into him and spreads them gently, picking up the pace of his hand and his mouth as the slide becomes easier and as Jean’s squirming becomes more urgent, more needy.

Thrills run down Jean’s spine with every clever curl of Eren’s fingers, with the way they feel buried inside him. The feeling of Eren working him open for his cock would be enough to drive him crazy by itself, but paired with the feeling of his boyfriend’s hot, wet mouth moving over him just as steadily, Jean’s finding himself coming dangerously close to losing control already.

It’s been far too long since he’s had this, since he’s been laid between his gentle, attentive boyfriends like this, but Jean still finds himself falling into them easily. As Marco licks into his mouth, parting only to whisper filthy encouragement between wet kisses, Eren hollows his cheeks around Jean’s cock and slowly sucks up to the head again, humming warmly against his piercing at the way Jean’s arching hips twitch and shake. He presses a sloppy kiss there, his lips sliding in slick precome, before he buries his fingers deeper and starts kissing his way back up Jean’s stomach.

Eren’s wrist moves steadily as he drags his lips up the blonde’s tense chest, pausing to playfully bite at his nipple before he slides up further and laves his tongue over Jean’s thundering pulse. He teases a third finger against Jean’s entrance, rumbling low in his throat at the way Jean shivers out a tremulous, eager sigh, the way he melts under the attention being lavished upon him.

As he spreads Jean open on three fingers, Eren lightly drags his teeth along Jean’s collarbone, and Marco pulls away from his kisses with a ragged hum. Licking his lips absently, Marco slides the pad of his thumb across Jean’s flushed, kiss-swollen lip, then moves his hand down and wraps his long fingers around Jean’s arousal, grinning lazily at the cracked little sound his boyfriend makes at that.

Stroking him slowly, evenly, Marco moves his lips to Jean’s ear, nibbling gently on his earlobe and slipping his tongue along the angle of his jaw. Eren curves his fingers again, rubbing tight little circles around Jean’s prostate, more to tease him than anything else, at which Jean whimpers and arches his back tightly, one shaky hand fisting in Eren’s messy hair. He gasps out a soft plea for more, rocking his hips in time to the hands working him over so perfectly, and Eren groans at the sound, lifting his head to catch Jean’s parted lips in a sweet, messy kiss.

“M-Marco,” Jean murmurs, his breath panting out hot against Eren’s lips, his eyes squeezed shut tight as Eren draws the tips of his fingers over his sweet spot again. “Eren, f-fuck—”

“You sound so good, Jean,” Eren breathes, gently digging his teeth into Jean’s lower lip, just enough to wring a shiver out of him. As he curls his fingers deeper, he gives the blonde a crooked grin, then brings his other hand up to brush his knuckles under Jean’s chin, his dark eyes taking in every detail of his boyfriend’s flushed, needy expression. “So pretty like this, baby,” he continues, dipping to brush a soft kiss to the corner of Jean’s lips. “’S been too long since I had you under me.”

Nodding his enthusiastic agreement, Jean gasps, “Y-yeah, yeah,” before his voice cracks in time with the squeaky little moan Eren’s fingers coax out of him. He lets his head fall back with a shuddering sigh, his hips rocking up into Marco’s maddeningly steady grip. “C’mon, Eren, g-god...”

“Impatient,” Marco teases, breathing a low, heated chuckle against Jean’s ear. Chills break out over Jean’s skin in the most alluring way, and he leans into Marco’s smooth voice with a hitched moan, already shaky and brainless with arousal.

Pulling his own lip between his teeth, Eren watches his boyfriend’s face for a moment longer before he buries his fingers deep inside him and spreads them easily, then firmly curls them up into his prostate again, pressing and massaging there until Jean’s arched nearly off the bed between them, his choked breath escaping in little whimpers. His cock drips precome onto his tense stomach, soaking the light dusting of curls leading down from his navel, which makes the slide of Marco’s hand on him that much easier.

Jean already looks like he’s about to lose it, with how hard, how slick his flushed cock is slipping through Marco’s fingers, and the way he can’t keep still with their hands on him, inside of him, his own fingers weakly gripping them, holding them to him, his bitten lips parted around sweet, desperate noises. Eren groans, then slides his free fingers from Jean’s jaw to his lips, and when Jean’s mouth opens to accept them immediately, Eren can’t help the low, growling curse he breathes out.

He pushes two fingers into Jean’s mouth, gently dragging the tips over his pierced tongue, and Jean whines and closes his lips around them, sucking on them eagerly, his tongue laving wetly over Eren’s knuckles and flicking between them. He’s tightening around the fingers thrusting into his ass, too, obviously overwhelmed by all the hands on him and yet still eager for more.

Marco moans against his ear then, mumbling rough praise for him as his hand picks up its pace, his fingers moving noisily through Jean’s sloppy precome. Jean squirms at the feeling, his eyes shut tight, and once Eren sees fit to start thrusting his fingers into Jean’s mouth in time to the ones between his spread thighs, Jean tenses hard, then melts for them completely.

He’s so thoroughly taken care of between them, so spoiled by their teasing and their touching that he barely notices his orgasm sneaking up on him until it’s rushing over his pliant body in a sweet, sudden wave. He doesn’t even have the brains to try to warn them, or to squirm away from them, not when he feels so good with their hands on him. Instead, he just arches weakly and gasps out a whimpering moan muffled by Eren’s fingers, tightening yet further around the ones inside him, and he only manages to rock his hips into his boyfriends’ rhythm once or twice more before he’s spilling into Marco’s hand with a breathy whine.

“Oh,” Marco murmurs, blinking down at where Jean’s come drips between his fingers, soaking his hand and Jean’s skin in a few hot, languid spurts. “Oops.”

Eren hums, then slides his fingers out of Jean’s mouth with a soft laugh, leaning up on his elbow instead so he can take in the mess they’ve made of their boyfriend.

As he eases his fingers out of Jean entirely and sits up, Eren grins down at his trembling, panting boyfriend, watching Jean drop an arm over his flushed face with a shaky groan. He licks his lips when Marco gives Jean a few more slow strokes to ease him back down to earth, then teases, “Little pent up there, babe?”

“L-little,” Jean grumbles, his voice still ragged and breathy. “Fuck.”

Eren snickers and scoots off the bed quickly, only pulling himself away from his boyfriends long enough to snag a stray shirt off the floor by the hamper to clean up with. He wipes his fingers off and hands it to Marco, then climbs back onto the bed to kneel between Jean’s spread thighs again.

Once he’s used the shirt to mop up the splattered mess of come on his hand and Jean’s stomach, Marco hums and puts it aside, still within reach in the likely event that they need it again later. A wide smile curves the corners of his lips as he presses a few sweet kisses along Jean’s jaw, sliding his arm over the blonde’s warm stomach and chuckling, “You okay?”

Swallowing heavily, Jean nods and takes a deep breath. “Y-yeah, ‘m good,” he mumbles, coming out of hiding to pull Marco into a lazy kiss. He hooks one leg around Eren’s hips and tugs him closer, then looks up at him and says, “C’mon, ‘s okay. Want you.”

Eren raises his eyebrows at that, wrapping his warm fingers around Jean’s bony hips. “Dude, you just came. You don’t want a break?”

Jean shakes his head. “It wasn’t that big, I can keep goin’.”

Before Eren can protest, or insist upon giving Jean at least a minute to breathe, Marco laughs softly and nips at the angle of Jean’s jaw, then drags hot, wet kisses down the line of his flushed throat, earning himself a shivering moan. “You just wanna feel Eren’s cock inside you while you’re all sensitive from coming, huh,” Marco murmurs, grinning up at Eren out of the corner of his eye. Jean whimpers at that, easily tilting his head aside for Marco, then nods.

“Oh,” Eren says, his crooked grin spreading over his face again. “Well, you should’ve just said so.”

“Sh-shut up,” Jean whines, wrapping his thighs more firmly around Eren’s waist, his eyes fluttering open just to fall to where Eren’s cock is standing achingly hard against his stomach, flushed and heavy and slick with precome. He licks his lips and wriggles closer, trying to move close enough that he can rub Eren’s arousal against some part of himself.

“Alright, alright,” Eren laughs. He leans over Jean on his hands and ducks to catch his lips, slipping his tongue between them and kissing him deeply, insistently, unable to keep from moaning against his lips at the way Jean arches up against him. Thin, pale arms slide over Eren’s shoulders, shaky fingers winding into his hair again, Jean’s hazy touch doubtlessly encouraging, inviting.

Before he can get too involved in Jean, Eren nips gently at his lower lip, then sits up again, patting around the sheets for the condom Marco had brought over. As Eren’s fumbling with the wrapper, Marco curls his fingers under Jean’s chin and pulls him into another kiss, sighing his name as Jean curves his hand over the nape of Marco’s neck to tug him closer.

Marco moves to pull away again, possibly to scoot back up to where he’d been observing from earlier, but before he makes it far, Jean’s holding him tighter and grumpily squinting at him. “Where’re you goin’?” he mumbles, clearly perturbed by Marco’s shifting.

“What,” Marco hums, letting himself be pulled back down. “I’m not allowed to spectate?”

“’Course you are,” Jean huffs. He flicks his eyes back over to where Eren’s rolling his condom on, only slightly distracted by the quick, confident movements of Eren’s hand, before he leans up to nibble at Marco’s lips. “Don’t gotta be so far away, though.”

“Mm, I got this,” Eren interjects, grinning widely at his boyfriends when they look over at him. “Marco, go over there?”

Mirroring Eren’s grin, Marco nods and sits up, leaning over to pull Eren into a warm, deep kiss before he crawls back up the bed and makes himself comfortable leaned back against the headboard. He spreads his knees and stacks a few pillows between his legs, already anticipating Eren’s plan, and once he’s settled again, he wraps his hand around his own soaked arousal with a low hum.

Jean doesn’t need to be told where to go from there. He rolls over with a quiet groan and slithers up the bed after Marco, settling himself on his stomach on the pillows, close enough that he can easily nuzzle his face against Marco’s knuckles. He leans up on his elbows between Marco’s thighs and drags his tongue up the brunette’s cock, both of them moaning at the feeling.

Behind him, Eren slides his warm hands up Jean’s thighs, helpfully guiding him up onto his knees and coaxing him into spreading them wider, groaning raggedly when Jean arches his hips back toward him and wiggles his ass temptingly. Eren shuffles closer, dropping the lube beside them so he can curve his hands appreciatively around Jean’s ass, squeezing and kneading gently as Jean makes himself comfortable again. He teases his thumbs against Jean’s slick entrance, still relaxed from his fingers, at which Jean shivers, rocking his hips back for more.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Jean moans breathlessly at the way Eren’s looking at him. His eyes are dark and hazy, the heat of his arousal practically pouring out of him, radiating from his flushed skin and sparking little fires everywhere he and Jean touch.

Jean licks his lips and presses back into Eren’s hands encouragingly once more, his cock already half-hard again where it’s stuck between his stomach and the soft pillow under him, and when they make eye contact again, heat rushes all through Jean’s body at the way Eren’s intense gaze burns into him.

Eren grins crookedly and leans over Jean, ducking to catch his lips as he rocks his hips forward, his cock dragging and teasing along Jean’s entrance just to drive them both a little crazier. Jean gasps against his lips, shifting his knees further apart, offering more of himself to Eren, his hands weakly gripping the tops of Marco’s thighs.

As he watches his boyfriends move together, Marco licks his lips and sighs, giving himself a few loose strokes as he does. He makes no move to distract them, though; there are few things on this earth more arousing to him than watching Eren and Jean make sweet, filthy messes of each other. He contents himself instead with running his fingers through Eren’s mussed hair, then brushing what he can reach of Jean’s bangs off his forehead, his touches light and loving.

Humming low in his throat, Eren pulls away from Jean’s lips in time to press a brief kiss to Marco’s knuckles, before he nudges his nose against the blonde’s temple and murmurs, “You ready for me, baby?”

“Yes,” Jean huffs immediately, biting his lips as he rubs his ass back against Eren. “C’mon, quit teasin’ me.”

“Alright, alright,” Eren laughs, nipping at Jean’s earlobe before sitting up again and grabbing the lube. He makes quick work of spreading lube over the condom, rubbing a little extra across Jean’s entrance just to make sure, before he closes the bottle and drops it to the side. Wiping his hands carelessly against the sheets, Eren shuffles closer and drags his palms slowly down the curve of Jean’s spine, moaning quietly at the way Jean arches into his touch. He braces one hand against the small of Jean’s back, the other wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and as he lines himself up, he murmurs a soft reminder for Jean to breathe, to relax for him.

With as relaxed as Jean already is, and how thoroughly Eren had prepped him, Jean takes Eren easily, resting his cheek against Marco’s thigh and shivering at how nice it feels to be spread open on Eren’s cock again.

“Ah, fuck, Jean,” Eren sighs raggedly, his hands coming to rest on Jean’s hips, his grip serving to keep them both anchored. He presses his cock into his boyfriend with a few slow, easy thrusts, his eyes sliding shut at how good Jean feels around him, tight and hot and slick with lube, taking him so perfectly and already arching back for more. Jean whimpers at the feeling, his lips parted around panting breaths and shivery gasps, and when Marco’s fingers wind into his hair again and pet him soothingly, Jean brainlessly nuzzles his face against his boyfriend’s thigh, almost purring with how satisfied he is between Eren and Marco.

Once Eren’s bottomed out in Jean, his hips flush against his boyfriend’s soft ass, Eren lets his head fall back with a breathy moan, allowing himself and Jean both a moment to adjust.

“God, Jean, you feel amazing,” he whispers, his teeth catching his lip as he grinds forward. “Fuck, baby...”

All Jean has for him in response is a whimpering moan and a vague nod, leaning happily into Marco’s gentle petting. Marco chuckles softly at that, threading his fingers deeper into Jean’s tangled hair with a quiet, loving murmur.

Eren blinks down between them again, groaning at the way his hips look pressed against Jean, at how his cock looks buried so deep inside him. He squeezes Jean’s bony hips again, then lets his hands slide back onto his boyfriend’s ass, palming at soft, flushed skin and spreading him open slightly, allowing himself an even better view. Cursing under his breath, Eren drags the pad of his thumb over Jean’s stretched entrance, grinding his cock deeper again, at which Jean squirms and moans for him, a gorgeous shiver winding its way down his arched spine.

“Eren,” Jean mumbles insistently, squeezing tightly around Eren’s cock with another breathy, pleading sound. “Please, baby, I-I want you, please?”

With a deep moan, Eren bends forward over Jean and drags his teeth along the tense curve of his shoulder. “S-sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, his words muffled by smooth, sweat-slick skin. “Just looks so damn good, bein’ inside you.” Grinning widely, Eren nudges his nose behind Jean’s ear and whispers, “’S like you were made for takin’ me, so fucking perfect, you know that?”

“Mmph, fuck,” Jean replies eloquently, tilting his head back against Eren’s shoulder. He pants dazedly for a moment, his eyes shuttering closed as Eren nuzzles into him, his cock stuffed deep inside him and his hands moving to grip his narrow waist, holding onto him so firmly, so securely. Marco’s fingers keep combing through his hair too, his watchful, appreciative gaze warm on Jean’s skin.

Eren sighs against his neck then, playfully sinking his teeth into Jean’s shoulder for a moment before he sits up again, his hands still holding Jean in place by his waist. He spreads his knees slightly to give himself the leverage he needs, then takes a deep, steadying breath, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into Jean’s pale skin. When he pulls back slightly, drawing his cock out with a rough groan, Jean moans at the feeling, already trying to roll his hips back again. Licking his lips, Eren keeps Jean still, gently pressing him into the pillows under him with his hands as he rocks his hips forward again, thrusting his cock deep inside once more.

“Eren, Eren, god,” Jean keens, eagerly spreading his thighs wider and writhing in the sheets as Eren keeps that steady, merciful pace with his hips. It’s slow enough to be maddening already, especially with how firmly Eren’s holding him in place, his careful strength just barely teasing at the promise of more if he just behaves. Still, Jean can’t help but arch back to meet Eren’s thrusts, squeezing enticingly and breathing out quiet little sounds every time Eren fills him up.

His restlessness doesn’t escape Eren’s notice, of course, but Jean’s still so tight, clinging and tensing around his thick cock so much that he almost can’t move faster than he is. He hums and absently pets Jean’s waist, keeping his even rhythm as he starts pulling back further, thrusting in deeper, doing his best not to lose his mind entirely before Jean’s relaxed enough for him. “Feels so good, Jean,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes closed with a shaky moan for just a moment as he grinds his cock into his boyfriend. “Relax for me, baby,” he soothes, leaning over Jean on one hand so he can press his lips to Jean’s ear again. “You feel amazing around me, love, a-always so good...”

With Eren’s quiet, heated voice rumbling into his ear, and Marco’s hands soothing him further, Jean closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath, focusing on how Eren feels moving into him, spreading him open on his cock. He whimpers at the feeling, but he lets his boyfriends coax him into relaxing, both of them murmuring honest praise as he lets his tension melt away again.

As Jean relaxes, the slide of Eren’s cock becomes easier, his thrusts growing longer and deeper now that Jean’s taking him so well. Eren moans Jean’s name and buries his cock deep, letting Jean wriggle back against him, his ass swaying slowly as the blonde whines his appreciation. Being spread open and filled up by Eren is amazing, especially after so long without the feeling, having been so enthusiastically focused recently on making sure Eren’s consistently buried under a mountain of boundless affection.

While Eren doubtlessly appreciates his boyfriends’ attention, being allowed to take care of them in return is a luxury in and of itself, and seeing Jean so pliant under him sends a thrill of sparks all through Eren’s body.

Groaning roughly, Eren drops his mouth to Jean’s neck, lovingly nudging his head aside to make room, and as he sinks his teeth into flushed skin, dragging his tongue through the light salt of Jean’s sweat, Eren moans and starts thrusting again, picking up his pace slightly as he works a dark hickey into Jean’s neck.

Between the sharp, wonderful sting of Eren’s teeth and mouth and the rhythm of his hips as he fills Jean up with his cock, Jean’s left trembling beneath him, breathy moans slipping freely between his parted lips. He hears Marco moan at the sight they must make, the sound quiet and shaky, so he blinks up at him and murmurs his name, then reaches up and pulls Marco’s hand off his head, down to his lips.

He presses a few light, brainless kisses to Marco’s palm, whispering his name again. When Marco moves his hand to tilt Jean’s chin up, he allows it, looking up at him somewhat blearily. Marco licks his lips and sighs roughly, dragging his thumb over Jean’s lips again, before he asks, “Feel good, baby?”

Jean’s eyes shutter closed as he nods. “Y-yes, yes...”

“Missed Eren inside you?”

His breath hitching audibly, Jean nods again, and as Marco purrs approvingly, Eren moans against Jean’s throat, his hips grinding forward harder and coaxing another shivery whimper out of Jean.

Eren pulls off the new bruise with a hum, dragging his tongue soothingly over his mark a few times to ease the sting. It’s higher up than he usually leaves them, clearly visible above the collars of his shirts, but Jean has a few days off and he’s been more than enthusiastic about bearing Eren’s marks recently anyway.

“Fuck, Jean,” Eren breathes, the hand still gripping Jean’s waist sliding instead to press against the small of his back. “You’re so good, baby, so good for us... wanna mark you up all over, cover your pretty skin in hickeys.” Jean shivers at the idea, budging his head against Eren’s with a pleading whine. Eren nuzzles him affectionately, giving him what he wants without hesitation, then whispers, “Get Marco to help too, love the marks he leaves on you, love watching him bite you...” Flicking his gaze up to Marco’s, Eren catches his eye and grins breathlessly, then murmurs, “How’s that sound, baby? Mark you up so everyone knows who’s takin’ care of you? Who’s makin’ you feel good?”

As Jean’s nodding restlessly, still seeking Eren’s loving attention, Marco moans quietly and squeezes his own cock, biting his lip around a pleased smile. He drags his knuckles down Eren’s flushed cheek, entranced by the way his boyfriends look wound together in front of him like this, then sighs, “As long as we can return the favor.”

Licking his lips and chuckling warmly, Eren nods, turning to brush his lips against Marco’s wrist, then his palm, silently promising to give him the chance later.

For now, Eren grins up at Marco again, then ducks to press a hot, wet kiss to Jean’s pulse, groaning at the way the blonde tilts his head aside so easily for him. He pulls back then, though, and sits up again, bracing both of his hands on the small of Jean’s back to keep him still as he rolls his hips into him, thrusting into him in long, even strokes.

Jean drops his forehead against Marco’s thigh and pants at the feeling, at how easily Eren holds him down, heat curling and tightening between his hips, leaving him craving more. He whimpers his boyfriend’s name, arching and spreading his thighs wider as best he can, wordlessly pleading with him. Eren moans softly at that, his grip letting up enough to let Jean thrust back against him a few times, his hips perfectly in sync with Eren’s. “Fuck, Jean,” Eren groans, palming at Jean’s ass again. “Want more, baby?”

“Yeah,” Jean immediately gasps, squeezing eagerly around Eren’s cock. “Yeah, yeah, c’mon—”

Humming soothingly, Eren slides his hands back to the curve of Jean’s spine, leaning enough of his weight there that Jean stills his squirming, so easily obeying Eren’s silent request. Jean’s own hands move to grip Marco’s hips, pressing his thumbs into the soft flesh over his hipbones and squeezing gently. He blinks up at Marco, catching his boyfriend’s encouraging smile, but before he can move closer to him or mumble his name, Eren’s shifting closer behind him, and then he starts thrusting harder, quicker into him.

Jean whimpers loudly and squeezes his eyes shut, gasping his boyfriends’ names between wavering, breathless moans. Eren’s leaning further over him now, fucking into him at a much nicer angle, sending sparks all across Jean’s blurred vision. He holds Jean down so easily, his hips slapping quietly against his ass, and Jean’s just about to beg for more already when Eren groans mutely, then pulls one of his hands away from Jean’s back, and he barely hesitates before he brings that palm down quickly against Jean’s ass.

The smack doesn’t even sting, more of a sharp sound than anything else, but Jean still freezes under him for half a second before he melts with a loud, needy cry of Eren’s name, his hips rocking insistently.

Eren knows full well how much Jean likes that sort of thing, but even until now, he’s never done it himself. It’s always been him loudly appreciating the way Marco’s flushed handprint looks on Jean’s pale ass. Jean’s never pressed him for it, either, always content enough with the rough way Eren’s hips move against him. Still, having his ass slapped is a thing for Jean, and having Eren actually indulge in it drives Jean crazier than he could’ve anticipated.

“F-fuck, Eren,” Jean moans, his thighs tensing and shaking, arching back for more as much as Eren’s grip will allow. “F-feels good, baby, s-so good, ‘s good—”

“G-god, Jean,” Eren gasps in response, roughly squeezing Jean’s ass as he bucks his hips into him, duly encouraged by Jean’s reaction. Above them, Marco’s squeezing the base of his cock and sucking on his lips, his hips rocking up into nothing, clearly just as affected by Eren’s boldness as his boyfriends. With a shaky moan, Eren gives Jean’s ass another quick slap, this one just hard enough to earn him a choked, noisy whine, before he braces his hand against Jean’s hip and puts more of his weight into fucking him.

Jean’s already gasping for more, harder, please, his nails digging slightly into Marco’s soft hips, so when Eren shifts his knees apart and adjusts his angle, driving his cock down into Jean perfectly, all Jean can do is cry out for him, sobbing his name pleadingly. Eren feels amazing like this, so hard and heavy inside of him, and at this angle, every one of Eren’s pounding thrusts slides the thick head of his cock hard along Jean’s sweet spot, leaving him absolutely ablaze with need.

“B-baby, fuck, right there,” Jean keens breathlessly, his brow furrowed with pleasure, eyes shut tight. “Fuck me right there, Eren, please—”

Eren moans helplessly at that, his head falling forward for a moment as his vision spins slightly, overwhelmed by how incredible Jean feels right now, squeezing and trembling around him. He shakes it off, though, and focuses again on wringing more of those beautiful sounds out of his boyfriend, on making a sweet little wreck of him.

When Marco gives himself a few quick strokes, breathing a low moan in appreciation of the incredible view he has of Eren rutting into Jean, the quiet, wet sound of his fingers sliding through his dripping precome inexplicably catches the blonde’s attention, dark eyes fluttering open and struggling to focus on Marco’s cock just a few inches from his face. Jean bites his lip and whines at the sight, then wriggles back up onto his elbows, his gaze intent on his boyfriend’s flushed arousal.

Jean reaches out and tugs Marco’s hand away from himself, then curls his own fingers around the thick base of his cock, angling him down enough that he can reach him. Humming raggedly, Jean presses a messy kiss to the slick head of Marco’s cock, his lips sliding easily along soaked flesh. As he drags the tip of his clever tongue along the folds of his foreskin, Marco moans breathlessly and slides his trembling fingers around the back of Jean’s head, his eyes rolling closed at the feeling.

Delicately wrapping his hands around Marco, Jean tilts his head and mouths sloppily down the sensitive underside, lovingly planting hot kisses along his length between cracked, pretty moans. Marco shivers at that, spreading his thighs wider and murmuring something vaguely encouraging, before he flicks his gaze up to Eren and finds those intense, lust-dark eyes already locked on him. He flushes dark, obviously flustered by his boyfriend’s staring, and Eren bites his lip around a crooked grin.

As much as Marco really does love watching them, and as much as Eren loves putting on a show for him, Eren’s always been a big fan of audience participation.

Mercifully, Eren slows down just enough to let Jean spoil their boyfriend, still making sure to rub the head of his cock all along Jean’s sweet spot, just to keep him on his toes. Jean’s tensing around him, his shaky sounds muffled against Marco’s cock, so Eren lets up with his hands for the moment and slides his palms up Jean’s arched back, along his bony shoulders, petting him lovingly as he thrusts into him.

While he can still think straight, Jean drags the pierced flat of his tongue back up Marco’s soaked length, then eagerly wraps his lips around the head, moaning at the taste and feel of Marco’s achingly hard cock sliding into his mouth. Marco’s vision blurs for a second, the wet, giving heat of Jean’s mouth almost too much after so long without being touched, before he buries his fingers in Jean’s hair and tugs gently, appreciatively.

Chuckling warmly at the sight, Eren leans forward onto his hands and licks his lips enticingly, then whispers, “C’mere.”

Marco nods vaguely, curling over Jean’s head enough to catch Eren’s lips in a slow, teasing kiss, whining at the way Eren licks into him so easily, so confidently. He pulls away too soon for his liking, but the space gives Jean room to start bobbing his head in earnest, noisily sucking and licking and stroking with no concern for the saliva and precome slicking his fingers, his lips, his chin, eagerly and messily worshiping Marco’s cock.

“Ah, fuck, Jean—” Marco gasps, his hips rocking up into Jean’s uneven rhythm. He slouches down slightly, then pushes the blonde’s bangs back off his face so he can see more easily, whimpering when Jean blinks up at him, his eyes so dark and his face flushed so pretty.

He’d almost swear that the corners of Jean’s swollen lips curl up slightly, even where they’re stretched around Marco’s cock, before Jean hums around him, then sucks him deeper, working his way down until he’s got his amazing mouth wrapped around every inch of his boyfriend. Jean swallows then, nearly gagging for a moment before he gets it under control and swallows again, his throat tightening perfectly around the sensitive head of Marco’s cock.

Marco lets his head fall back against the headboard with a loud thud, his wavering moan still louder, before he twitches his hips up and blinks at Eren again, watching the brunette’s teeth dig into his lip. Between them, Jean pulls back to suck in a deep, shaky breath, then goes back to bobbing his head languidly over Marco’s cock, gentle fingers stroking what doesn’t fit quite so easily between his lips.

With Eren still petting him soothingly, still fucking him slowly and deeply to allow him room to focus, Jean’s free to move his hips, too, so he rocks back into Eren’s forgiving thrusts with muffled whines and beautiful, salacious little twists of his hips. He tightens around Eren as he does, earning himself low, growling moans, flustered sounds that match the way Eren’s hips buck forward into the perfect, inviting heat wrapped around his cock. Eren lets his eyes slide closed as his head falls forward, chills racing across his warm skin at the way Jean writhes back against him, trying to take more of him even as Eren’s hips slap mutely against his ass.

“G-goddamn, Jean,” Eren gasps after a moment, leaning forward enough to rest his forehead on Jean’s shoulder, giving the blonde a deep, purposeful grind. “Tryin’ not to choke you here...”

In response, Jean just moans around his thick mouthful, his ass swaying temptingly. He hollows his cheeks around Marco, working his tongue against the underside of his cock as he slowly, messily pulls off, at which Marco can only tremble, shivering out a stuttering whine. Jean presses a heated moan and an open-mouthed kiss to the head before he purrs Eren’s name and leans up toward him, already tilting his head aside and offering his marked skin up for more.

He doesn’t have to tell Eren that he can handle choking. He already knows. Still, Eren rumbles and ducks to sink his teeth into the crook of Jean’s shoulder again, rocking his hips quickly as he works another mark into his boyfriend’s flushed skin. Moaning raggedly, Jean licks his wet lips and lets his eyes shutter closed at the feeling, both hands stroking Marco’s soaked arousal, his wrists twisting gently around the head just to hear the way Marco’s breath catches.

“C-c’mon,” Jean gasps, whining softly as Eren bites him a little harder, thrusting his cock a little deeper. “C’mon, baby, w-want it so bad, please?”

Eren moans low in his throat at the plea, huffing and squeezing Jean’s sides, before he nods and presses a quick, wet kiss to the hickey he’d just raised. He roughly nuzzles Jean’s ear with another deep groan, then breathes, “Wanna come?”

“Yeah, y-yeah yeah,” Jean whimpers, “Wanna come on your cock, Eren, g-god, yeah.”

“Fuck,” Eren growls, his hips moving more insistently. “So good for me, baby. Wanna h-hear you when you come for me, yeah? Let me hear what sweet noises you make for me?”

Jean nods quickly, turning his head enough that Eren can catch his lips in a brief, deep kiss, just enough teeth and tongue to make him shake. Marco sighs softly at the sight, licking his lips and rocking his hips up into Jean’s hands, and he’s more than ready to be content with that when Jean turns back to him and easily swallows him down again, moaning around his mouthful as he closes his eyes and focuses again on sucking Marco’s cock. Marco shivers out a gasping moan at that, staring blearily as Jean’s lips move smoothly along his cock, before he glances up at Eren and watches him get settled over Jean again.

As Eren sits up straight, spreading his knees and wrapping his hands around Jean’s bony hips, he pauses long enough to flash Marco a flustered, crooked grin. Eren’s so worked up, so turned on by them and for them that his gaze sends a rush of heat all through Marco, and even as he buries his cock deep inside Jean and lets his lips part around a soft, purposeful moan, the fire in Eren’s eyes seems to promise, ‘I’m not done with you yet.’

Marco whimpers shakily, his hips stuttering as his cock twitches on Jean’s tongue. Eren’s grin widens, his eyes narrowing hungrily as he drags his gaze up and down Marco’s body, following the sloppy rhythm of Jean’s head for a moment longer.

Eren sighs then, squeezing Jean’s hips gently as he focuses on the blonde again, on the tight, perfect heat wrapped around him. He bites his lip and reaches forward to bury his fingers briefly in Jean’s hair, murmuring soft encouragement, before he drags his nails back down the length of Jean’s spine, which earns him a squeaky, muffled moan and an insistent wiggle of Jean’s ass.

Bracing his hands on Jean’s hips, Eren starts thrusting in earnest again, quickly working back up to his rough, pounding pace from before, his strong grip now pulling Jean back onto his cock with every snap of his hips. He moans breathlessly at the way Jean feels around him, his gaze locked on how his cock looks moving into his boyfriend’s tight ass, spreading him open with every deep thrust.

Beneath him, Jean’s melting and writhing under Eren’s attention, his noisy cries nearly stifled by Marco’s cock. He buries his nose in the soft, dark curls at the base and swallows, tight and wet and messy, and Marco’s hands fist firmly in his hair, which only serves to drive Jean crazier.

Pulling off Marco quickly, Jean tilts his head back and sobs Eren’s name, brainlessly pleading for more, deeper, anything. His cock’s aching, throbbing where it’s still stuck under his stomach, sliding in the mess he’s made of the fabric. It’s not enough, just barely not enough, so Jean bites his lip and whines as Eren fucks him harder, as Marco soothes his fingers through his hair and murmurs something about how well he’s doing.

“E-Eren, Eren,” Jean whimpers loudly, his thighs twitching and tensing. “P-please, baby, I—ah—”

“Fuck, Jean,” Eren gasps above him, his fingers gripping Jean’s hips hard enough to leave white marks on his pale skin. Jean keens at that, quickly, unevenly stroking Marco’s cock in lieu of his mouth, and when Eren fucks him faster, pulling him back roughly, Jean’s eyes roll shut, his lips parted around noisy, desperate moans.

Even though Jean seems to have lost his words, too overwhelmed with pleasure to be coherent, he’s still squirming, still trying to get more, so Eren bites his lip and tries to focus on something other than how perfectly Jean opens up with every ramming thrust. Jean still needs, his back and his shoulders still tense, his hips rocking in time with Eren’s as much as his hands on him will allow. Eren groans softly, leaning over Jean on one hand, the other still gripping his hip, and the shift allows him to throw his weight into his thrusts, like he had earlier. Jean writhes under him and gasps out sweet little cries of his name, panting and moaning and sounding so perfect, like he’s falling apart on Eren’s cock.

Growling out another low moan, Eren makes good on his promise to fuck Jean through the pillows stacked under him, fueled by how loud Jean is now, how broken his voice is, how he barely even has the presence of mind to keep stroking Marco’s cock. Jean’s wavering, sobbing cries are almost good enough, almost perfect enough, and even though Eren can feel Jean’s orgasm building with how he’s tightening around him, he’s still sure that Jean needs something more.

He glances down and watches Jean’s hips move under him, only briefly hypnotized by how flawlessly the blonde’s ass bounces with every rough thrust before he realizes what it is Jean needs.

Without breaking his rhythm, Eren reaches down and yanks the pillows out from under him, leaving Jean’s tight stomach arched a few inches off the bed. He tosses them aside carelessly, then reaches back down and wraps his fingers around his boyfriend’s aching cock, and Jean’s voice trembles wildly as he throws his head back against Eren’s shoulder and desperately, loudly cries out for him.

It barely takes a few quick, sloppy strokes before Jean’s falling apart completely, shamelessly wailing his boyfriends’ names, his thighs shaking violently, his hands fisting hard in the sheets between Marco’s thighs. He can’t remember the last time he came this hard, his entire world narrowed down to how perfect Eren’s cock feels fucking the come out of him, how amazing Eren’s rough fingers feel stroking him through it, how fucking incredible Eren’s gasping moans sound being pressed against his ear. His hips jerk and twitch as Eren sends him yet higher, his body melting bonelessly against the bed, his come smearing all along his stomach, his chest, between Eren’s fingers, god knows where else.

Just as he hits his peak, still whimpering noisily, Jean feels Eren starting to slow down, starting to ease him off of it. He half-buries his face in the sheets as one hand flies back to grip Eren’s hip, squeezing insistently, and he tries his best to gasp, “D-don’t stop, don’t stop—”

Despite his words being panted out brokenly, lost in a shaky, overwhelmed mess of hitched, keening moans, Eren gets the picture. He moves his hand back to Jean’s hip, his fingers slippery with come, and as he speeds up again, he rests his forehead against Jean’s shoulder and squeezes his eyes shut.

He’d been so close when Jean came, so it doesn’t take much to get Eren there, right on the edge of coming, his breathy moans hot against Jean’s humid skin. He focuses on how Jean feels around him, how good he sounds under him, how loving Marco’s fingers feel now combing through his shaggy hair, and he’s so busy just trying to get there that he completely loses his filter.

Arching closer to moan Jean’s name against his ear again, just for the way it makes his boyfriend tighten around him with the sweetest little sounds, Eren melts against Jean’s back and just starts babbling.

“Fuck, fuck, J-Jean, b-baby—” he gasps, barely hearing himself, “You’re s-so good for me, s-so good, p-pretty boy—so tight, god, you’re so fucking tight, I wanna come inside you, Jean, fuck—” Eren moans at the words as he says them, but Jean squeezes him and cries out at them, rocking back into Eren’s sloppy thrusts and panting out his desperate, frantic approval. The tight knot in Eren’s gut snaps then, and he slams his cock deep with a loud, shaky whimper, yet more words slipping from his unguarded lips as he works himself through his orgasm.

His ears are ringing, his head a buzzing mess of good so good, so Eren doesn’t really register his hitching voice telling Jean all about how he wants to fill up his tight, perfect little ass with his come, nor about how he wants to watch it drip out of him, all his dirty little secret fantasies spilling out into the open. He definitely notices the way Jean’s squirming and whining under him, though, shaking for more of him and slurring out a breathless stream of “yesyesyesyes” with every word out of Eren’s mouth.

As he grinds his cock deep into his boyfriend, his lips pressed against the crook of Jean’s neck, Eren whimpers and gasps his name, his hips finally slowing to a halt even as his head’s still spinning from the intensity of his orgasm. Marco’s still petting him, gentle fingers soothing him further, so it takes a good long minute even after he’s come down out of the clouds for Eren to realize what had happened.

Once reality hits, Eren bolts upright, his eyes widening in horror as Jean peers back over his shoulder with a sharp, teasing grin. Eren flicks his gaze up to Marco’s then, sucking nervously on his lips, and even though Marco’s wide, warm smile is much less teasing than Jean’s, Eren’s still pretty sure he can feel his soul evacuating his body.

Groaning weakly, Eren carefully pulls out of Jean so he can flop back on the bed, immediately slinging his arms across his face, cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment.

He feels the bed shift as Jean sits up and grabs the shirt from earlier, most likely with Marco’s help, and they must be having some kind of telepathic conversation because after a brief silence, he hears Marco chuckle warmly. The sound would normally soothe Eren, but now it just kind of makes his humiliation worse, so he whines and tries to roll off the bed and into oblivion.

“Where’re you going?” Jean asks, his voice shaking with badly-contained laughter as he pushes Eren onto his back again and easily straddles his stomach. “Why do you look like you’re dying inside?”

“Ohmygodjustletmedie,” Eren croaks, kicking his feet slightly. If he really tried, he could probably escape Jean’s clutches, but he’s still trying to catch his breath.

Before he can put much more thought into it, he feels Marco kneel between his thighs, his hands resting gently, soothingly on his hips. No way he can escape both of them. Eren huffs and buries his face further into his elbows, entirely sure that his face is about to catch fire.

“Eren,” Marco laughs softly, “You really don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“What’s there to even be embarrassed about?” Jean says. “I mean, clearly I liked the idea.”

Eren groans piteously at that, but he lets Marco’s warm hands coax him into wrapping his legs around his waist anyway. Jean’s bony ass shifts enough to let Eren get comfortable, but he stays perched on his boyfriend’s stomach once he’s settled, his fingers playing lightly through the thick line of hair trailing down Eren’s abdomen.

Puffing out a disturbed sigh, Eren takes a deep, steadying breath before he mumbles, “Not exactly the way I was hoping to bring it up.”

Jean leans over him on his hands, his grin still evident in his voice, and says, “But you were gonna bring it up, right?”

“... Eventually.”

And he totally was thinking about maybe bringing it up. Someday. In the future.

He knows full well that Jean and Marco were fluid-bonded in the pre-Eren days, having heard several fantastic tales about it. He also knows that he’s wildly enthusiastic about the idea, given the amount of times he’s found himself lost in messy daydreams wherein condoms aren’t a thing. Still, he’s waffled about bringing it up previously, for whatever reason.

Before Eren can get too lost in embarrassed thought, Jean settles himself comfortably on his chest, laughing softly as he nudges his nose against Eren’s elbows. Jean hasn’t fully recovered yet either, it seems; he’s still so warm, his heart still tapping a quick beat against his bony ribs. Eren peeks out at him from under his arms, eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he lets Jean push his arms off his face altogether, his hands falling limply to the sheets above him. With a satisfied hum, Jean ducks and catches Eren’s lips, drawing him into a hot, languid kiss that leaves all his briefly-held tension melting out of him.

Eren’s eyes flutter closed as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, eagerly tangling his tongue with Jean’s as the blonde cradles his jaw in his hands, his thumbs dragging lazily over his cheeks. Above them, Eren vaguely hears Marco groan softly, his grip shifting to the tops of Eren’s thighs and squeezing gently.

Jean hums against him after a moment, pulling back to brush his lips against Eren’s once more before he drags light, sweet kisses across his cheek, affectionately nuzzling into his ear. He breathes a warm sigh over the angle of Eren’s jaw, then rocks his hips against the brunette’s stomach, his thighs spreading wider, and the view must be spectacular, because Marco’s breath hitches audibly and his hands twitch. Eren blinks up at him, biting his lip at the unabashed heat in his dark eyes, at the flustered, crooked smile Marco gives him in return.

“We are definitely, definitely having this conversation,” Jean purrs into Eren’s ear, his breathy voice both amused and aroused, “But I think Marco’s gonna explode soon, so we should take care of him first, hm?”

Neither confirming nor denying Jean’s assessment, Marco has the good grace to suck sheepishly on his lips, twiddling his thumbs across Eren’s humid skin as he watches Jean’s grinning lips brush along the line of Eren’s jaw. Eren laughs softly, but he murmurs his agreement, grateful at least for the brief respite. After sparing Marco a quick, lingering glance, Eren turns and kisses Jean again, leaning into him for just a moment longer before he eases the blonde off to the side.

His tongue pokes out as he reaches down and carefully pulls his condom off, and once he’s tied it off, he lets Jean trade it for the wrinkled mess that could conceivably be a shirt, quickly wiping himself down with it before he chucks it off the edge of the bed.

Shifting onto his knees, Eren gives Marco a wide grin and presses gently on his shoulders, guiding him back into his position against the headboard and straddling him easily, just as he had earlier in the bath. Marco shivers, pulling Eren’s hips flush against his, and he can’t really help the hitched, whimpering sound he lets out when his cock rubs up against the soft join of Eren’s thigh.

Eren sighs and wraps his arms around Marco’s neck, pressing his warm body against his boyfriend’s, the lazy contact at once soothing and promising. He nudges their noses together, then murmurs, “Sorry to make you wait, sweetheart.”

With another little shudder, Marco shakes his head, and he sounds very much out of breath when he replies, “God, don’t be. You have no idea how hot that was from up here...” Wrapping his arms around Eren’s waist, Marco tilts his head and brushes a sweet, lingering kiss to Eren’s lips, his eyes sliding closed as he relaxes into his boyfriend’s warmth.

Gently nudging Marco’s head aside, Eren leans in and drags his tongue up his ear, sucking on his earlobe before breathing, “Let me make it up to you anyway.”

“F-fuck, Eren,” Marco mumbles vaguely, his hands twitching on Eren’s skin.

Eren pulls back and trails his knuckles down Marco’s cheek, licking his lips and smiling at the dazed heat in his boyfriend’s eyes. “What d’you want?”

Before Marco can even try to think of something coherent, Jean comes to kneel behind Eren, resting his chin on his shoulder with a rather distracting grin. His hands slip lazily up and down Eren’s stomach, his light touches meant to tease Marco more than Eren. He’s entirely successful, of course; Marco’s brain shorts out somewhat as he stares at Jean’s pale fingers where they’re spread over Eren’s soft, dark skin, leaving him once more speechless.

Marco’s brainlessness is nothing short of fascinating to Jean. If Jean were the one posing that question, sitting in his lap flushed so pretty, Marco would probably already be fucking him through the bed, whimpering his name and sinking his teeth into his neck and bending him in half to get closer. At least, that’s usually what the glaze over Marco’s eyes means, especially with how incredibly hard he is, and how long he’s been so turned on.

When it’s Eren, though, Marco’s brain just kind of crashes, even with as riled up as he is right now. It’s not hesitance or restraint, either, not anymore. No, this is just Eren’s particular brand of hotness rendering Marco genuinely speechless, smoke pouring out of his ears and everything.

Jean loves it.

His grin widening, Jean leans into Eren’s ear with a warm, playful laugh, nibbling at the sensitive skin just below it as he trails his hands back up the brunette’s chest. He slides the tips of his fingers over Eren’s pierced nipples, then squeezes gently, teasing and toying with them until Eren tilts his head back against Jean’s shoulder with a low, shivering moan. Marco watches them helplessly, his cock twitching and dripping slick precome on Eren’s dark thigh.

Since Jean doesn’t want Marco to have an actual stroke, he decides to help him find his words. Dragging warm, wet kisses down Eren’s neck, Jean peers up at Marco through his eyelashes and smiles crookedly, dropping one hand to curve over Eren’s still-soft cock.

He keeps his touch light, knowing that it usually takes Eren much longer to recover before he can get hard again, but when Eren sighs agreeably and presses up into his palm, Jean hums in response and curls his fingers around him with a gentle squeeze. He turns and nuzzles Eren lovingly, his free hand slipping around the brunette’s strong waist, then chuckles, “I think you broke him.”

Eren snorts at that, leaning back against Jean’s chest with a soft hum. “Don’t try to put all the blame on me, you had a hand in this too.”

“H-hey,” Marco protests feebly, his shaky hands curling around Eren’s hips. He can’t seem to think of much to say beyond that, though, which just proves his boyfriends’ point.

Jean snickers teasingly, then gives Eren’s cock a loose stroke, trying to coax him back to life. Eren pushes down the urge to wriggle and relaxes into the touch instead, idly lacing his fingers over the nape of Marco’s neck.

“That too much?” Jean asks quietly, glancing down as he slides his hand up his cock again. When Eren shakes his head, spreading his thighs and rocking his hips up, Jean hums and looks at Marco, grinning at the way he’s still watching brainlessly. He presses his lips to Eren’s ear again and murmurs, “You know what Marco’s favorite thing ever is?”

Grinning widely, Eren nods and turns to catch his eye, and the confidence to his (mostly correct) answer makes Jean’s heart flutter in his chest. “You riding him.”

“And you, too,” Jean replies quickly, just as Marco opens his mouth to say the same. They glance over at him, and when all he can manage is a sheepish nod, Eren flushes and squirms slightly, his cock twitching in Jean’s hand. Jean purrs at that, squeezing him gently, before he shifts to rub the pad of his finger against the sensitive spot just below the head of Eren’s cock, playing with the subtle folds of his foreskin as he does.

Eren shivers out a quiet moan and rocks into Jean’s hand, absolutely letting the blonde get a rise out of him. He blinks up at Marco, who’s smiling and watching patiently, then leans forward and catches his lips in a warm, lazy kiss. Marco breathes a shaky sigh and deepens the kiss easily, threading one hand into Eren’s hair to pull him closer as he slips his tongue between his lips. As Eren melts against him, letting Marco kiss him eagerly, he reaches down and slides his fingers over the slick head of Marco’s cock, which earns him a rough, hitched moan.

Before he can touch him more, Marco gently pulls Eren’s fingers away, lacing them with his own instead. He swallows heavily, then mumbles, “S-sorry, ‘s just—a-a little too much right now.”

“Oh.” Eren blinks down between them, then grins and squeezes Marco’s fingers reassuringly. Instead, he leans in and nibbles at Marco’s lower lip, his cock already half hard in Jean’s hand, before he asks, “You want me to ride you, sweetheart?”

Marco’s eyes roll closed at that, a brainless groan slipping from his flushed lips, and he rocks his hips up against Eren for a second while he gathers the brains to come up with a reply. “Y-yes, yes,” he gasps, burying his face in the crook of Eren’s neck. “Yes, p-please.”

Jean hums warmly, brushing a few encouraging kisses into Marco’s disheveled hair before he grabs the lube he’d set nearby and deftly flicks the cap open with his thumb. He pulls his hand away from Eren’s cock, slicking his fingers liberally, and once he’s closed the lube and dropped it again, he pulls Eren back into his chest and reaches past his cock, down between his thighs. He’d mostly just been interested in seeing if he could reach from this angle, but when Eren shifts up and helpfully tilts his hips forward, Jean discovers that not only can he reach, the view is also awesome.

As he slides the tips of his fingers over Eren’s entrance, spreading lube around and coaxing him into relaxing, Jean moans softly and drags a few languid kisses over his shoulder, more grateful than usual for how short his boyfriend is. Eren shivers, taking a deep, steadying breath before he reaches down and takes over stroking himself. He doubts he actually needs to, though; between Jean’s fingers rubbing deep between his thighs and the way Marco’s hiding his whimpering moans in the hollow of Eren’s collarbone, he’s entirely sure his cock would be achingly hard anyway.

While Marco’s mouthing wetly up the side of Eren’s neck, Jean lifts his lips back to Eren’s ear and hums, “Ready?”

“Yeah, c’mon,” Eren huffs, his eyes fluttering shut as Marco latches onto his pulse, sucking and licking and biting gently, marking him up just as he’d been promised. Eren moans shakily, his free hand squeezing Marco’s waist. Duly encouraged, Jean nudges his nose behind Eren’s ear and whispers for him to breathe, the same way Eren had earlier.

Over the last few months, and the last month especially, Eren’s had plenty of practice letting his boyfriends make a boneless mess of him. Jean knows exactly how to touch him to get him to fall apart, too, and how to work any lingering tension out of him, so it takes barely any time at all before he’s steadily slipping two fingers up into his boyfriend, holding him close while Eren shakes and pants for them. Marco leans up with a shivering moan, kissing Eren deeply and absently petting his sides, and when Eren wraps his arms around Marco’s neck and whimpers against his lips, Marco rumbles heated praise in return, then reaches down and wraps one hand around Eren’s flushed arousal.

Stroking languidly, Marco pulls back to watch Eren shiver at his touch, his hips rocking between his boyfriends’ hands as he pants quietly. He watches Jean’s hand move between Eren’s thighs, the slick sound of his fingers thrusting into him more than a little tantalizing. When Jean presses deeper and curls his fingers toward Eren’s stomach, he has to angle his wrist sharply to reach his sweet spot, but it’s worth it for the squeaky, breathy moan Eren can’t bite down in time, and for the way he arches his hips for more, his head falling back on Jean’s shoulder.

Jean hums raggedly, then focuses again on working Eren open for Marco’s cock, leaving the privilege of coaxing more sweet, broken moans out of him to Marco. Instead, he gently eases a third finger into him, whispering soothingly into his ear and holding him closer.

Soon enough, Eren’s gasping, “’M good, c’mon, I’m good,” his thighs shaking already as he grinds down onto Jean’s fingers. Just to be sure, Jean buries his fingers as deeply as he can and spreads them gently, teasingly curling them against his prostate once more with a grin before he slides them out altogether.

Marco takes the opportunity to hold Eren tightly to his chest and kiss him again, moaning against his lips when Eren leans into him and eagerly tangles their tongues, threading his fingers into Marco’s hair.

Ignoring his own arousal for the moment, Jean crawls back over to the nightstand and digs out another condom. He hears Eren whisper something he can’t quite make out, but whatever it is earns him a wavering, brainless moan from Marco. When he turns to glance at them, he sees Marco nodding and leaning into him, hands gripping his hips tight. Eren’s grinning against him, looking rather pleased with himself even as he flicks his tongue along the part of Marco’s lips.

Jean kneels beside them again, one eyebrow quirked curiously as he slides the condom under Marco’s fingers. “What’re you scheming?”

“Not scheming,” Eren replies simply, licking his lips and crawling out of Marco’s lap. “Just experimenting.”

Marco whimpers morosely at the loss of Eren’s warmth, but he recovers quickly enough to shift his attention to opening the condom and rolling it on. As he slicks the condom with lube, he scoots down the bed some more and spreads his thighs slightly, presumably to give Eren more room to move in his lap. Once he’s done, he reaches for his boyfriend and paws insistently at his hips.

It’s kind of a shock that Marco’s still even conscious at this point, with as long as he’s waited for his turn. Jean almost feels bad, knowing Marco must be tense and aching, but once Eren moves close enough for him to hold again, Marco shivers out a relieved sigh and relaxes back against the headboard, looking generally at peace with the world. It must be that Eren magic at work again, warm and soothing as he buries his face in Marco’s hair and murmurs grateful praise to him. Jean sighs dreamily and leans against the headboard beside them, more than happy to watch Eren shower Marco in loving affection for the moment.

When Eren sits up on his knees, Jean expects him to climb right into Marco’s lap again, so when he turns around instead and straddles him backwards, throwing Jean a crooked grin as he does, all Jean can do is stare at him. Marco rolls with it, though, humming low in his throat and squeezing Eren’s ass firmly before dropping one hand to the base of his cock, holding it steady. He slides his other hand up to Eren’s hip, tugging gently to let him know he’s ready. Trusting Marco to keep his aim, Eren sticks his tongue out a little and focuses on what he’s doing, one hand braced in the sheets between Marco’s thighs for balance, the other resting on Marco’s hand on his hip.

He sinks down slowly, his own spread thighs already starting to tremble at the feeling, and once the slide becomes slightly easier, as the thick head of Marco’s cock slips inside him, the concentration on Eren’s face clears into sweet bliss, his eyelids fluttering closed as his head falls forward.

Marco bites his lip and whines, his bleary gaze lingering on where Eren’s rocking his hips back for more with short, careful thrusts, his toes curling at how nice Eren feels around him. He lets Eren set his own pace for now, letting him take things nice and slow while he adjusts, half for Eren’s sake and half for his own.

After so long without being touched, having Eren wrapped so tightly around him is almost too much for Marco to handle, too much sweet sensation for his brain to process. Once Eren settles into his lap, a gorgeous shiver running up his spine and tumbling out of his mouth as a satisfied moan, Marco reaches forward to slide his arms around Eren’s waist, scooping his tiny boyfriend back against his chest with a hitched sigh. He buries his face in the crook of his neck, cradling Eren as close as he can get him, and the way his cock shifts and rubs inside him earns him another shaky gasp as Eren leans his head back against Marco’s shoulder.

“Ah, M-Marco,” Eren sighs, reaching up and tangling his hand in Marco’s hair so he can tug him into a warm, lazy kiss. He melts back into Marco’s embrace, letting his boyfriend cling to him as much as he needs to, and as Marco kisses him deeply and presses up into him, Eren shifts his hips to accommodate him.

While they’re kissing, adjusting and relaxing into each other, Jean moans softly and crawls over to kneel between Marco’s knees. He takes in the incredible view he’s being offered for a long moment, then reaches out and drags his palms up Eren’s thighs, at which the brunette shivers and moans into Marco’s kisses, his hips arching forward into the touch.

Pulling back with a gentle nibble, Eren turns to look at Jean, giving him a flushed, crooked grin before he murmurs, “Like what you see?”

Jean groans quietly and nods. “Hell yeah, I do.” He sighs and leans forward to catch Eren’s lips too, pressing against him as Eren threads his fingers into messy blonde hair, tugging him into a languid, bitey kiss. Marco moans at that, sliding one hand around to the small of Jean’s back and petting him absently as he watches them kiss.

Unable to sit still any longer, Marco rolls his hips up into Eren gently, just enough movement to keep him from going crazy while Eren gets used to having his cock buried deep inside him. Eren, however, is more than ready for him, based on the way he shivers and moans for him, then presses back onto him, easily picking up Marco’s uneven rhythm and making it something much more enjoyable for the both of them.

With Marco’s and Jean’s hands on him to keep him balanced, Eren braces his knees in the sheets and rocks his hips forward, pulling off just a few inches and humming breathlessly at the way Marco’s thick, heavy cock drags inside of him. The tip of his own arousal brushes against Jean’s bony hip, leaving a wet streak across pale skin, before he presses back onto Marco with a shaky gasp, warmth spreading all through him at the helpless sound his boyfriend makes, at the way Marco rocks up into him so smoothly, just enough to bury himself deep.

Eren keeps this easy rhythm for now, his eyes closed again, lips parted around sweet, quiet little moans, and Marco gladly lets him take the lead, pressing his own brainless sounds against the warm skin of Eren’s neck between messy kisses and gentle bites.

Jean leans back enough to take them in again, his dark eyes scanning over every part of them both as if committing the sight to memory. He squeezes the tops of Eren’s thighs, his hands shaking slightly, then drags his fingers slowly up his boyfriend’s hips, then up his sides, absolutely entranced by the stark, perfect contrast of their skin, and the way Eren’s strong muscles tense and flex with every short thrust.

“Fuck, Eren,” he murmurs breathlessly, moving to trail one hand down the line of Eren’s abdomen, the tips of his fingers brushing over soft, dark curls. Eren arches into his touch eagerly, his hips stuttering for just a moment when Jean’s knuckles brush past his straining arousal. Jean licks his lips at that, then rests his other hand on Eren’s cheek, drawing his thumb over his boyfriend’s flushed cheekbone as he sighs, “You look so good like this, baby.”

Biting his lip lightly, Eren blinks up at him, his intense eyes dark, hazy with want. Marco rumbles his agreement into his ear and squeezes him gently, before he starts pressing his hips up more firmly into Eren’s even rhythm, pulling back with each thrust as much as his position will allow him.

With the angle of his hips and the way he’s bent back against Marco’s chest, every thrust drags the curve of Marco’s cock all along Eren’s sweet spot so wonderfully, and that feeling only grows more intense the more he relaxes between his boyfriends. He tilts his head back and moans quietly, shivering as Marco rides up into him, giving him more of that feeling, of the warmth flooding his body with every shaking thrust. He reaches up and grabs Jean’s wrist, holding him still as he turns his head and presses warm, lazy kisses into the blonde’s palm. Jean groans softly, then grabs Eren’s chin and turns him forward again so he can kiss him brainless.

While he’s distracted, Marco takes the opportunity to suck another dark hickey into Eren’s neck, making sure to leave it where it’ll be easily visible. Eren moans into Jean’s mouth, squeezing enticingly around Marco’s cock before he starts moving more insistently, his hips rocking and swaying for more already.

Resting his hands on Eren’s hips, Marco braces his heels in the sheets and starts thrusting into him more, gently using his grip to pull Eren back onto his cock. He guides Eren into a better, deeper rhythm, both of them moving together so perfectly, even as Eren melts back into his chest and whimpers his name in the brief space between his and Jean’s lips.

Jean hums warmly, leaning back so he can watch his boyfriends move together before he slowly drags his hands down Eren’s chest, licking his lips at the way Eren arches into his touch so pliantly. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jean mumbles quietly, almost as if he hadn’t expected the thought to leave his lips. He owns it, though, moving his wandering fingers to Eren’s nipples again as he says, “God, Eren, you’re incredible, you know that? So pretty when you feel good, baby, I love seeing you like this...”

“J-Jean, fuck,” Eren whines, his face flushing dark at Jean’s breathless praises. He’s too distracted to respond beyond that, between Marco’s cock filling him up so perfectly and Jean’s fingers gently toying with his nipples, so he just squeezes his eyes shut and gasps, moving to rest his shaky hands on Jean’s waist.

Leaning forward again, Jean nips gently at Eren’s lower lip, giving his nipples one last light pinch before he slides his hands up to Eren’s cheeks and kisses him again. It’s quick this time, just a soft, affectionate brush of their lips, Jean’s thumbs stroking his cheeks as he whispers, “I love you, Eren.”

No matter how much he hears it, how many times a day or how many different ways each of his boyfriends say it to him, Eren doubts he’ll ever get tired of hearing those words, nor of the sweet rush that always follows them. Now, while he’s cradled so safe and warm between Jean and Marco, their hands holding him so lovingly, so carefully, hearing those familiar words and tasting them on his lips and Jean’s leaves him shaking and gasping, pressing down hard on Marco’s cock and whimpering at the feeling. Marco moans for him in return, arching up into him, and just as he recovers and starts thrusting into Eren again, he murmurs the words too, his lips brushing the skin just below his ear so tenderly that all Eren can do is tremble.

“Ah, fuck,” Jean sighs, nuzzling Eren’s cheek, “You’re doing so well, love, making such pretty noises... feel good with Marco inside you, baby?” As Eren nods, his hands sliding around to Jean’s back to hold him closer, Jean hums and presses their chests together, dragging slow, hot kisses along Eren’s jaw until he’s close enough to brush his lips against Marco’s. He moans softly at the light taste of Eren’s skin on Marco’s lips, pulling him into a deeper kiss for a brief moment before he pulls away and focuses again on Eren.

Smiling crookedly, Jean nudges his nose against Eren’s and reaches down between them to wrap his fingers around Eren’s cock, flushed dark and soaked with precome, bobbing between them with every easy thrust. Eren’s brow furrows as he murmurs Jean’s name, and when Jean starts stroking him in time to Marco’s gentle rhythm, all Eren can do is cling to him and rock into his hand, gasping breathlessly.

He knows he’s tensing around Marco’s cock, but with how patient the brunette’s been, Eren had almost forgotten just how worked up Marco had been. Now, though, as he’s squeezing and pressing back harder into his boyfriend’s lap, Marco’s hands tighten on his hips, and he grinds his cock up hard with a brainless, urgent moan of Eren’s name. Eren arches back into him and whines, his thighs trembling violently.

“E-Eren, Eren,” Marco pants, burying his face in Eren’s hair with a hitched whimper, “Eren, baby, you feel s-so good, ah—” As Eren’s nodding vaguely, lost somewhere between Marco’s hands holding him down on his cock and Jean’s mouth on his throat, he shifts his weight and takes over again, picking up where Marco had left off with a wavering moan.

Marco rumbles tensely at the feeling, his shaky hands gripping Eren’s hips again, but when Jean reaches up and buries his free hand in Marco’s hair, scratching soothingly behind his ear, the brunette relaxes again, pressing another, softer moan into Eren’s hair as he loosens his grip and slides his palms up Eren’s sides.

He lets Eren ride him as he pleases, instead distracting himself with how smooth his boyfriend’s skin is, how nice he feels leaned back against his chest, how sweet his quiet little moans sound panted into the humid air around them. Moaning his name softly, Marco slips his palms down Eren’s stomach, flattening one hand just above the base of his cock as he gently rolls his hips up into Eren’s rhythm. Eren shivers, gasping for him so prettily as he grinds back against him, his arms now wrapped around Jean’s shoulders for support as the blonde strokes him and murmurs heated praises between lazy kisses.

Now that Eren’s shaking so much, twitching and tensing, his cock dripping precome over Jean’s knuckles, he finds it harder and harder to keep up his steady rhythm, finding himself more and more frequently writhing under his boyfriends’ attentive petting, craving more of them, more of whatever they want to give him. He swallows heavily, sinking down hard on Marco’s cock and tensing around him, then gasps out a breathless, “P-please...”

Jean purrs at the sound, nuzzling Eren lovingly and squeezing his cock before he replies, “Want more, baby?”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Eren whines, scratching his short nails through Jean’s hair.

Words fail him before he can tell his boyfriends exactly what he wants, between the incredible feeling of Marco rubbing his cock firmly against his sweet spot and Jean pressing his thumb through the soaked slit of Eren’s cock, but they know by now exactly what Eren needs.

Jean grins widely and gives him a teasing, biting kiss before he starts mouthing down Eren’s throat, down his chest, still stroking him languidly. Marco curls his fingers under Eren’s chin and pulls him into a kiss as well, eagerly swallowing down Eren’s brainless little moans and whines as he settles back against him. He rests his hands on Eren’s hips and guides him up onto his knees more, murmuring soft encouragement as Eren shakes against him, before he spreads his thighs slightly and starts thrusting up into him.

With Marco taking such good care of him, all Eren can do is whimper for him, leaning his head back and breathing out sweet, hitching moans of his name. Marco kisses his cheek lovingly, using the space between their hips to slide his cock into Eren in long, firm thrusts, burying himself deep every time. Eren leans into him heavily, shaky little noises slipping between his lips with every thrust, letting Marco surround him entirely. He can’t quite forget Jean’s mouth, though, especially as the blonde drags his pierced tongue down his stomach, then along the curve of his hip.

Jean scoots back along the bed, both to give Marco room to move and so he’s not bent over quite so awkwardly when he rubs his cheek against Eren’s cock with a happy sigh. Eren twitches in his hand, his hips arching temptingly, so Jean chuckles warmly and turns to press hot, wet kisses up Eren’s soaked length, encouraged by the broken sound Eren makes as he does.

Eren shivers and moans as he buries his hands in Jean’s hair, only glancing down at him for a moment before he sinks back into Marco’s arms again and whimpers. Marco’s still nuzzling him gently as he drives him crazy with his cock, so Eren leans into the attention with a choked whine, clearly craving his boyfriend’s affection. Of course Marco’s glad to provide, whispering soothingly between kisses even as he picks up his pace, quickening his thrusts just to see how Eren trembles for him and Jean both.

Thankfully, Jean has mercy on Eren and skips his usual teasing, instead wrapping his lips around him and sucking him down smoothly, moaning at the taste of the precome flooding over his tongue. Eren bucks up against him and gasps his name, his fingers winding deeper into his hair, so Jean hums around him and bobs his head quicker, taking his cock deep with every pass. He twists his tongue against the underside, then sucks back to the head and teases the ball of his piercing against the slit, groaning softly when Eren sobs out a pretty, noisy moan and twitches in his mouth.

Eren squirms between his boyfriends, every part of him shaking and tensing as Marco fucks him harder, moaning his name for him and holding him close, as Jean sucks him down so perfectly, stroking his inner thighs as he does.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Eren leans his head back and cries out for them, his sweet noises coming louder and faster the closer he gets. His hips shifts unevenly in Marco’s grip, searching for more of their tender affection, and they adjust to him easily, moving in perfect time with each other and with him as they work him higher, and it’s too much for him to take.

He curls his fingers around the back of Jean’s head and weakly rocks his hips into the blonde’s mouth, gasping, “I-I—fuck, I’m gonna come, baby, p-please—” Humming warmly, Jean swallows him eagerly, his lips wrapped tightly around the base of Eren’s cock, and Eren makes the most incredible sound at that, shivering violently and throwing his head back as he tightens harder around Marco. “M-Marco, I—”

Marco moans for him as he grips his hips and snaps his cock up into him, his own orgasm building tight and hot in his gut. He pushes it down, though, and focuses on Eren instead, on the cracked, noisy moans spilling so easily from his lips. Nuzzling Eren’s cheek brainlessly, Marco breathes, “Ah, Eren... c-come for us, sweetheart, go on, wanna see how good you feel, please?”

Eren gives a gasping little cry at that, writhing desperately on Marco’s cock as he fucks up into him, as Jean sucks his cock and moans around him, and he’s right on the edge of coming, every muscle tensing and quaking, heat coiling almost painfully between his hips when Marco gasps, “E-Eren, Eren, please—oh, I love you, baby, love you so much, god—”

If Eren had any brains left to him, he might be embarrassed by the sound he lets out at that, a breathy, sobbing, half-formed cry of both his boyfriends’ names at once, loud enough to echo across the ceiling. He barely notices his volume, though, because he’s coming so hard that the world spins out from under him, his ears ringing with the thunder of his pounding pulse, his back arched tight and his chest heaving as he gasps for air between more noisy, pleading sounds.

As Eren’s shaking apart in his lap, Marco moans desperately and wraps his arms tightly around him, and all the tension and delay from before comes crashing down around him now. He’s entirely undone by the feeling of his boyfriend coming on his cock, slamming up into him and whimpering brokenly as he comes inside him, his face buried in the bend of Eren’s shoulder.

Once he’s swallowed all of Eren’s come, stroking him firmly to make sure he gets the last few weak spurts, Jean hollows his cheeks and pulls off his cock, earning himself a shaky whine for his efforts. Marco’s still rocking up into Eren, his brains apparently still lost in outer space, but Eren doesn’t seem to mind, based on the way he sinks back into Marco’s chest with a shivery little moan, eyes still shut tight. Jean huffs out a short laugh at that, then licks his lips and sighs as he rubs himself against the sheets under him, having sprawled out on his stomach again to reach Eren’s cock.

Seeing as Marco and Eren might both need a few minutes before they come back to earth, Jean leans his cheek atop Eren’s thigh and sets to taking care of himself. He shifts up onto his knees and reaches down to stroke his aching cock quickly, moaning at how hard he is, at how good it feels to thrust into his own grip. Eyes fluttering closed, Jean licks his lips and gasps, then absently rubs his face against Eren’s thigh, humming at the sweet warmth radiating from his dark skin.

As he’s jacking himself off, Jean squirms closer and nuzzles into Eren’s hip, sighing and gasping and arching his ass into the air. He hears Marco moan his name, still sounding so beautifully fucked out, right before shaky fingers wind into his hair. Just as he had earlier, Marco pets Jean soothingly, murmuring soft encouragement, so Jean whimpers and buries his face in the side of Eren’s hip, mouthing across sweat-slick skin as he strokes himself harder.

“F-fuck, Jean,” Eren murmurs quietly, sliding one trembling hand over Jean’s bony shoulder. Jean shivers and melts into Eren’s touch, his ass swaying behind him, and just as he starts to feel the pull of his orgasm, Eren leans over him and grips his ass with both hands, breathing a low moan and squeezing before he pulls one hand away briefly.

When Eren touches him again, he presses two spit-slick fingers against Jean’s entrance, at which Jean whines shakily, arching up further. Eren hums warmly, then sinks his fingers into Jean, still stretched from earlier and slick with lube. He grips Jean’s hip with one hand and fingers him as best he can from this angle, flicking his wrist quickly, and between his rough fingers and Marco’s hand in his hair, Jean’s quickly left whimpering and gasping against Eren’s hip, come spurting between his fingers and pooling on the sheets.

Burying his fingers deep, Eren murmurs soothingly and slides his other hand along the small of Jean’s back as the blonde strokes himself through his orgasm, panting against Eren’s hip as he does.

Eren mercifully pulls his fingers out of him again once Jean’s peaked out, instead sliding his palms back up to his shoulders, soothing one hand over the nape of Jean’s neck. After he’s taken a long minute to recover, Jean sits up and sighs shakily, then crawls back into Marco’s lap, where he collapses against Eren’s chest with a whuff.

“Hey, wait,” Eren mumbles, gently sitting Jean up straight again with a tired laugh. “My leg’s gonna fall off, let me—”

Using Jean’s shoulders as balance, Eren pulls off of Marco, wincing slightly as one of his hips pops loudly. Marco makes a soft, mournful sound at the loss, but he holds the condom in place until Eren’s all the way off him.

Rather than sit back in Marco’s lap, Eren flops forward onto Jean and knocks them both back along the bed in a tangle of legs, at which Jean squawks noisily. Eren, meanwhile, gives a loud, extremely satisfied sigh and settles himself comfortably on top of Jean, his cheek squished against the blonde’s bony chest. Marco laughs at that, then rolls away from them with a groan to get himself cleaned up.

Once the condom’s taken care of, he uses the thoroughly debauched shirt from earlier to wipe the most recent mess of Jean’s come off the sheets before Eren’s knee lands in it, crumpling it up with a shudder and dropping it into the hamper before he crawls back across the bed to his boyfriends.

Eren couldn’t look more pleased if he tried, even with half of his enormous smile smooshed against Jean’s chest. Jean’s lazily combing his fingers through Eren’s hair, his eyes blissfully closed. He blinks up at Marco as he lies down on his side next to them, leaning over to brush his lips against Jean’s, which earns him a satisfied hum. Before he can pull away, Jean reaches up and tugs him closer, mutely demanding more kisses. Marco laughs softly and obliges, and when Jean finally lets him go, he settles right beside him, slinging one arm over Eren’s back with a content sigh.

After a few minutes of quiet recovery, Eren breaks the silence with, “I’m not gonna be sitting right for a week.”

Jean laughs at that, a crooked grin spreading over his face. “Yeah, me neither.”

“Sorry,” Marco mumbles, leaning up to brush his lips over Eren’s cheek.

“Shit, don’t be,” Eren sighs, his dreamy smile widening. “Worth it.”

“Maybe you should do yoga with me,” Marco chuckles, propping his head up in one hand.

“Oh god, no,” Eren replies immediately, “I can’t survive your ass in yoga pants normally, if I have to watch you fold yourself into knots too I’m gonna end up dragging you off to the bathroom ten minutes into the class.”

“Who said anything about class?” Eren squints one eye up at him, at which Marco grins and says, “We’ll just do it in the living room. That way I can harass you all I want while also bending you in half. Much more fun.”

“Well, shit,” Eren snorts, rubbing his face against Jean’s chest. “Can’t turn that offer down, can I.” He leans up enough to look at Jean then, who raises his eyebrows in question. “I’d ask if you wanna join in, but you’re already made of spaghetti.”

“Yeah, I’m good just watching,” Jean snickers, playfully combing Eren’s bangs down over his eyes.

Eren grins at that, then squirms forward and buries his face in Jean’s throat with a happy little noise, unabashedly snuggling him. Jean slides his arms around Eren’s shoulders and closes his eyes again, looking for all the world like he’s ready for nap.

Until, of course, he remembers something a moment later, his eyes flashing open again. Marco hums curiously, but Jean just pokes Eren in the head insistently until the brunette grumbles, “Whaaat?”

“You aren’t getting out of it that easy,” Jean replies cryptically. Marco stares at him, but Eren apparently catches his drift, based on the way his shoulders tense. He muffles a strangled groan in Jean’s shoulder, trying to hide from his boyfriend’s scrutiny.

Marco glances between them for a minute, then remembers Eren’s accidental admission earlier, a smile spreading across his face as he leans up on his elbow. “Eren, you don’t have to hide, really.” Eren responds by hiding more, even when Jean starts digging his fingers into his ribs to try and get him to come out. Marco hums, resting his hand on Jean’s to still his tickling before reaching over to run his fingers through the mussed hair on the back of Eren’s head. “You said you get tested regularly, yeah?”

Eren stiffens further, which is understandable given the context of that fact, which had been a rather tense moment during the big talk a few weeks ago. Jean soothes his hands along Eren’s back, turning so he can press warm kisses into his hair. Eren sighs, then nods, pulling himself out of Jean’s arms so he can sit up and rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Yeah, um,” he mumbles, glancing furtively at Marco, “I’m due again like next week-ish.”

Smiling gently, Marco sits up as well and reaches for Eren, letting the brunette fidget skittishly before he comes close enough to pull into a firm hug. He buries his face in Eren’s hair with a warm sigh, nuzzling him affectionately until he relaxes for him. Jean rolls toward them, curling around them and resting his hand on Eren’s hip with a reassuring squeeze.

Once Eren’s leaning into him comfortably, Marco rests his cheek atop his head and asks, “Does the place you go take walk-ins?” Eren swallows, then nods mutely, so Marco hums and leans back enough to look at him, resting his hands on his boyfriend’s flushed cheeks. “What if Jean and I tagged along?”

“Uh,” Eren replies.

“It’s been a while for us, anyway,” Jean muses, catching both his boyfriends’ attention and shrugging. “May as well.”

“Uh,” Eren repeats, unable to keep himself from fidgeting.

Marco leans over slightly and smiles again, soothing his thumbs over Eren’s cheeks. “Would that be okay with you?”

Eren stares at him for a minute, then shrugs helplessly, mumbling, “I mean, if you want to, then sure?”

“Erennn,” Jean groans, leaning his head back.

Shaking his head, Marco tugs Eren into a soft, loving kiss, slipping his hands down onto the brunette’s shoulders as he does. Eren’s eyes flutter closed after a moment, tension slipping out of his expression, before he pulls back and sighs slowly, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “I know what you mean,” he murmurs, “I just, uh.” Marco tilts his head patiently, reaching down to lace his fingers with Eren’s. The gesture seems to lend Eren some confidence, seeing as he straightens up and takes a deep breath, then says, “Is that, like, a step you guys want to take?”

Jean shrugs loudly, rolling onto his back again and crossing his ankles lazily. “You already know my opinion.” Marco gives him a dirty look and pinches his ribs, and Jean squeaks and grumbles, but he sits up anyway, then leans over to brush his lips against Eren’s with a soft hum. Nudging their noses together, Jean sighs, “I trust you, dude. Always have. If it’s something you want to do, I want it too. Not just because it’s hot.”

Marco hums contently, bringing Eren’s hand to his lips so he can brush a few sweet kisses across his knuckles. “I do, too,” he sighs, smiling warmly at Eren, who flushes dark at the open, obvious adoration in Marco’s expression. “It’d mean a lot to me,” Marco continues, “So if it’s a step you want to take, I’d be happy to take it too.”

Jean nods, comfortably leaning his head on Eren’s shoulder, his hands warm on Eren’s waist. Fidgeting slightly, Eren glances between them as he sucks on his lips thoughtfully, before he finally lets out a noisy exhale and closes his eyes. “The both of you, I swear to god...” He drags the heel of his hand under his eyes with a quiet laugh, then blinks up at Marco and gives him a watery grin. “You make it sound so serious.”

Shrugging easily, Marco leans forward and pulls Eren into a warm, loving kiss, lingering there contently before he murmurs, “Just want you to know we’re serious about trusting you with this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eren wheezes, shaking his head firmly. He laughs shakily, then wraps his arms around Jean’s shoulders and flops back onto the bed with him, earning another startled squawk. Laughing at Jean manages to distract him from the urge to cry yet more happy tears, so Eren ruffles the blonde’s hair too, and when Marco settles comfortably beside him, tangling himself with whatever isn’t already tangled around Jean, Eren relaxes with a genuinely content hum.

They spend the afternoon wrapped lazily around each other, talking quietly about nothing at all until Eren’s warm and comfortable enough that he starts drifting off between them. Even then, Jean and Marco stay curled up around him, their fingers laced over his stomach, and Eren falls asleep with Jean’s lips pressing soft kisses through his hair, and Marco’s voice breathing soft, sweet love in his ear.

Chapter Text

Jean is dead asleep.

It’s a well-deserved sleep, a good, long, comfortable sleep after a rather trying week, and it’s the rare kind where he could probably sleep through a bomb going off.

Still, he’s groggily aware of hands on his hips and lips on his neck and the woody smell of Eren’s hair, of warm, strong legs winding with his and his boyfriend’s wiry body pressing against his. Everything’s soft and easy, even the tiny moan that slips from between his lips, and he really wouldn’t mind more of this, ideally without having to move.

He’s aware of Marco, too, his breath slow and hot against the back of Jean’s head, although his even exhales break around a quiet hum when Eren slinks closer and presses between Jean’s thighs.

There’s a pause then, followed by a low groan and slurred muttering, and then Eren’s gone.

Normally, the bed shifting would be enough to get Jean to open his eyes. The sudden cold should at least do it. Jean’s so comfortable, though, and so sleepy, and he can’t help that he’s asleep again before his pouty whine has even finished wheedling into the now-empty air.

--

It’s light when Jean’s eyes open again, but it feels like he’d only closed them for a few seconds. Either way, he’s rock solid in his sleep pants and significantly interested in more of whatever had been happening earlier, but Eren’s still gone. Work, most likely.

Jean groans and scrubs at his eyes, leaning back into Marco’s warm chest as he does. Stretching under their light blanket just shifts the fabric of his pants over his arousal, making things seem much worse than they are, so Jean stops and switches instead to rocking his ass back into Marco’s lap.

With a low hum, Marco nuzzles into the crook of Jean’s neck and gathers him closer, his hands traveling lazily over the blonde’s bed-warm stomach. It never does take much to get Marco’s attention when he’s half asleep. He kisses slowly across pale skin as his hands soothe lower, one sliding under the hem of Jean’s pants to wrap around his cock with another soft purr. Jean melts back against him and breathes a shivery little moan, his hips pressing encouragingly into Marco’s hand.

“Hi,” Marco mumbles, nuzzling behind Jean’s ear now as he sets to stroking him slowly.

“H-hey.” Jean licks his lips and rocks into his boyfriend’s too-light caresses, tilting his head aside easily as Marco nibbles at his pulse. “Ngh, think Eren was fuckin’ with me this morning...”

“Not on purpose.”

Jean knows it wasn’t on purpose, but that doesn’t stop him from grumbling about getting Eren back, his threats entirely harmless. He leans his head back onto Marco’s shoulder and moans softly, hitching one thigh up so Marco’s free hand can dip further into his pants and explore his inner thighs, light fingertips brushing up over sensitive skin and closer to where Jean’s much more interested in having them.

“Ah, Marco,” he sighs, his spine arching temptingly. “Want you inside me, baby...”

Exhaling sharply, Marco’s hands grip Jean a little tighter before they start moving again with purpose. Just before his fingers slide deep enough to press against Jean’s entrance, Marco pauses, obviously thinking way too hard for this early in the morning. “Did your alarm go off?”

“No,” Jean grouses, rubbing his ass back against Marco more firmly, trying to distract him.

“What time is it?”

“No, Marco, don’t you dare—”

Marco does dare. He leans up and squints over at the alarm clock, his hands stilling entirely. “Jean, you have to get up in like four minutes.”

“Marcooo, nooo,” Jean warbles, trying as best he can to scoot back after his retreating boyfriend. “C’mon, babe, please?”

“As tempting as that is,” Marco chuckles, “That would make you very late.”

Jean groans loudly, dramatically throwing his arm over his eyes. “Fuck...” He turns to squint at Marco, who’s somehow still smiling kindly, and pleads, “Can you help me out? ‘M gonna explode...”

With a hum, Marco obliges, and it takes less than a minute for him to have Jean whining and arching against him, gasping as he spills hot into his boyfriend’s palm. It takes less than a minute after that for Marco to cheerfully kick him out of bed, which Jean is less than pleased about, but all things considered it could probably be worse.

--

As the fall semester starts up in full force, Jean’s forcibly reminded at all times how much he prefers teaching summer classes. They’re longer, but they only meet once a week, and his own workload is usually manageable enough that it leaves him an abundance of time to spend with his boyfriends.

During the semester, Jean has a lot more students with a lot more problems, and with his own classes and experiments to deal with, he’s more overloaded than he’d like to be.

Things have been particularly busy lately, as they usually are toward the beginning of the semester, and even though this is normal for them, Jean’s still more than a little frustrated by it. He’s grown used to the easy crawl of the summer sessions, the relative freedom that comes with a lax schedule, the ability to escape early enough in the day to get in some quality time with Eren and Marco.

He might be a little extra tense, too, because just before the semester started, all three of them had gone to get tested, as they’d agreed upon. They’d all come back clean, thankfully, which means they’re free to do away with condoms any time they want.

Unfortunately, it hasn’t happened yet.

They’ve had the green light for about two weeks now, but between a few understandable nerves and the start of the semester doing away with free time, getting all three of them together at the same time is hard enough, let alone with enough time and energy for what would undoubtedly escalate into loud, messy marathon sex.

Jean can be patient from time to time, but he’s getting steadily thirstier with each day that passes, especially whenever he remembers how good Eren had sounded whimpering in his ear about how bad he wanted to come inside him.

Today, even with Marco having lent a hand, Jean’s impatient and itching to be done for the day. He knows Eren’s back from work by the time his last class finishes, and it’s that knowledge and the faint idea of revenge that has him rushing a little faster to get back to their apartment.

He means to spend his commute plotting ways to torment his boyfriend, but he ends up spending most of it shifting awkwardly and trying not to dwell on the thought of Eren fucking his brains out. It doesn’t work too well. Jean’s in a mood, it seems, and by the time he’s jogging up the stairs to their apartment he’s just grateful that no impromptu meetings had come up to keep him on campus longer.

All bets are off when Jean barges into their bedroom and finds Eren absolutely passed out, half-covered in the sheets and perfect in the warm afternoon sun. As thirsty as Jean is, and as naked as Eren is, his heart still jiggles tenderly at the sight, and the sound of Eren’s soft snores soothes the wild beast entirely.

Jean sighs quietly and drops his bag on the dresser, quickly followed by his pants. He crawls across the sheets toward his boyfriend, and when the bed sinks enough to get Eren’s attention, the brunette twitches and leans his head up groggily, his shaggy hair going everywhere and his sleepy expression adorably confused.

“Just me,” Jean murmurs, sitting on his heels and running his fingers gently through the soft hair on Eren’s chest. Eren squints blearily at him for a moment, then collapses back against the bed with a little wheeze, eyes already sliding closed again. Jean snorts and melts against his side, resting his head on Eren’s toasty shoulder as he throws an arm over his stomach.

Eren mumbles something unintelligible as he curls his arm around Jean’s shoulder and turns to press a few scattered kisses through messy blonde hair. By the time his breath has evened out again, ruffling through spiky cowlicks, Jean’s fallen asleep too, wrapped around Eren and happily leeching his body heat.

--

The distant pinging sound of a notification on his phone wakes Jean up again. He and Eren had apparently shifted over the course of their brief nap, curling closer together and wrapping more firmly around each other. Jean’s somehow got his legs wrapped around his boyfriend’s warm, bare waist, and the one stuck under Eren is numb as hell. Eren’s arms are tight around Jean’s hips, though, keeping him held safe against him, and Jean had wriggled up enough that he could tuck Eren’s head under his chin.

It’s not exactly an ideal sleeping position, but Jean’s far too comfortable to move out of it, pins and needles aside.

His sleepy shifting still catches Eren’s attention, though, and he rumbles quietly as he gathers Jean closer and nuzzles into his bony chest. Chuckling softly, Jean cards his fingers through Eren’s hair, blinking vacantly at the nightstand as he does.

It’s still early enough that Marco hasn’t come back from school, it seems, so they must not have been asleep for too long. Jean hadn’t even meant to fall asleep. He peers down at Eren and gently tugs his hair, mumbling, “You’re like a damn cat.”

Eren doesn’t lift his head, instead making a series of muffled, confused noises as he rubs his cheek against Jean’s shirt.

Jean closes his eyes again and continues, “Found you all curled up napping in a sunbeam, couldn’t help but join you.”

The soft noises he gets in reply are less confused and more happy, accompanied by Eren’s bed-warm hands sliding up under Jean’s shirt and spreading across his back, his palms slipping soothingly over smooth skin.

Obviously still not awake enough for conversation, Eren settles for petting Jean lazily as he struggles to find consciousness. Jean’s fingers combing through his hair probably don’t help, but they’re clearly appreciated nonetheless. He hums contently as he slips in and out of wakefulness, sorely tempted by the warmth of the sun and of his boyfriend wrapped around him.

“What’s got you so sleepy, huh?” Jean asks after a while, pulling Eren out of another mostly-asleep lull. He twitches slightly, eyes fluttering open as he spreads his fingers over Jean’s curved spine again. “Sleep okay last night?”

Eren hums quietly and nods, dragging his hands down Jean’s sides. He pulls the blonde close again, unabashedly snuggling him, and works to form a full sentence. “Just sleepy today. Woke up super sleepy, couldn’t shake it.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jean digs his heel lightly into the small of Eren’s back and snickers, “I seem to recall you waking up some other way.” Blinking up at Jean with a questioning noise, Eren squints at him while the thinking gears turn. “Less sleepy, more handsy.”

“Oh,” Eren mumbles, “Yeah, thought I had more time. Sorry, babe.”

“S’okay,” Jean hums, ducking to press soft kisses along Eren’s temple. “Just got me in a mood.”

With a warm purr, Eren slides his hands over Jean’s sides again, just as slowly as before but with a much different purpose this time. He leans up and nudges under his boyfriend’s jaw so he can kiss gently up the soft line of his throat, humming when Jean shivers and leans his head back for him. “What kinda mood?”

“Mm, what d’you think?” Jean laughs, his fingers tightening slightly in Eren’s hair.

“I dunno,” Eren breathes, shifting up further to press his warm, tempting kisses against Jean’s pulse, up over the angle of his jaw, until he can laugh quietly in his ear, earning a hitched moan. He slips his hands down to curve gently over Jean’s bare ass, groaning lowly as he tugs his hips forward, enough that he can feel the slight press of Jean’s half-hard cock against his stomach.

“That kind of mood,” Jean manages, already going boneless in Eren’s arms as he wraps his own around the brunette’s neck with a sigh.

Eren mouths down Jean’s neck again just to hear his boyfriend’s breath start to pick up, his thighs squeezing around his waist as Jean clings to him. Nuzzling him again, Eren bites gently at his pulse between messy kisses, his hands still squeezing and kneading Jean’s ass, before he leans back into Jean’s ear and whispers, “You in a mood to let me fuck you?”

“A-ah, yeah, Eren,” Jean moans, his hips twitching forward. “Fuck yeah.”

“I was hopin’ you would be,” Eren murmurs, easily rolling them over so he’s leaned over Jean, his hips resting comfortably between his boyfriend’s thighs. He shifts his weight onto his elbows so he’s not squishing him, then gently rocks his hips, and Jean’s suddenly very glad that he’d had the foresight to take his pants off the second he got home. Eren’s half-hard cock rubs all along the join of Jean’s thigh, leaving him shivering and arching up against him. “Fuck, you’re so responsive right now,” Eren rumbles appreciatively. “You sure you can handle it?”

“Yes, god,” Jean groans, lightly dragging his nails up Eren’s shoulders. “Don’t tease me, man, been thinking about it all day...”

“Oh yeah?” Eren laughs against Jean’s ear, then sucks at his sensitive earlobe with a low hum, spreading his knees so he can rock his hips into Jean’s more steadily. “Been thinking about my dick inside you all day?” Jean nods, moaning breathlessly as he wraps himself more tightly around Eren, tilting his head aside to give the brunette more room to tease him. “Funny, ‘cause I’ve been thinkin’ about fucking you all day.”

“You’ve been asleep,” Jean grouses, squirming slightly. Eren snorts and nips sharply at his ear, soothing the bite with his soft tongue as he drags his cock along the low arch of Jean’s bony hip.

“Woke up earlier than your ass,” Eren retorts easily. “Spent my whole shift thinking about how good you’d look riding me.”

“Ah, E-Eren...”

Chuckling quietly, Eren nuzzles Jean’s ear again and rocks his hips more firmly, absolutely teasing him with his rapidly-hardening arousal. “Thought about sitting you on my dick ‘nd just letting you go nuts fuckin’ yourself on me. Just kept imagining you gasping and moaning and doing all kinds of crazy shit with your hips...” Eren grins and shifts one hand to Jean’s trembling thigh, squeezing lightly as the blonde pants and squirms under him. “But you’re so sensitive right now, I bet you wouldn’t last two minutes before you started begging for me.”

Jean grumbles, but Eren’s absolutely right. He’s already starting to feel weak in the knees just from the way Eren’s cock feels slipping along his hip, there’s no way he could keep it together long enough to really ride him. Fisting his hand gently in dark, bed-mussed hair, Jean drags Eren into a lazy, messy kiss, moaning into him when Eren takes control of it and slowly curls his tongue between his lips.

“N-next time,” Jean promises between kisses, nibbling gently at Eren’s lower lip as he squeezes him with his thighs. “I’ll ride your brains out next time.”

“Mm, I hope so,” Eren hums, flicking his tongue between Jean’s lips before he sits up, dragging his warm hands down the wrinkled front of the blonde’s shirt. As Jean sits up just enough to rip the shirt off, flushing bright under his boyfriend’s intense gaze, Eren grins crookedly and squeezes his narrow waist, his cock twitching at the pretty picture Jean makes beneath him. He slips his hands up the insides of Jean’s spread thighs, then up over his stomach, purposely avoiding his prominent arousal, before he leans back down and drags the flat of his tongue over Jean’s nipple.

Jean moans and arches into the attention, his eyes fluttering closed, and when Eren nibbles gently and squeezes his other nipple with a low hum, Jean shivers and rolls his hips impatiently. Eren seems intent on taking his time, though, clearly in a mood to make a noisy mess of his boyfriend. He sucks on Jean’s nipple, flicking his tongue over it as his thumb rubs across the other, waiting until Jean’s squirming under him and panting to kiss across his chest to give the other the same treatment.

“E-Eren,” Jean whines, his hands gripping his boyfriend’s shoulders as he tweaks Jean’s slick nipples with teasing fingers, grinning at the way it makes the blonde shake under him. “Eren, c’mon, fuck...”

“Need it that bad?” Eren asks, shifting to lean over Jean on his hands. “You really don’t want me to play with you?”

Flushing darker, Jean bites his lip and shakes his head, his hands coming to rest on Eren’s waist. He squeezes reassuringly when the tiniest hint of disappointment flashes over Eren’s face, then mumbles, “Y-you can do whatever you want to me later and I won’t complain, but right now I want you inside me, yeah?”

Eren sighs slowly, biting his lip and looking Jean up and down before he nods and ducks to catch his lips again. Jean moans gratefully into the kiss, his hands sliding along Eren’s sides until he leans away to fish around in the nightstand.

“Did I mess with you that bad this morning?” Eren asks quietly, settling back on his heels between Jean’s thighs as he slicks his fingers with lube. He raises an eyebrow and continues, “Thought I just grabbed you a little.”

“Maybe,” Jean sighs. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a slow, relaxing breath, not keen on waiting longer than he has to. “Don’t really remember. Woke up thirsty as hell, tried to get Marco to fuck me, but there wasn’t any time... thinking about it all day just made it worse.”

Smiling crookedly, Eren leans over Jean again and kisses him softly as he reaches down and rubs his slick fingers against Jean’s entrance, making good on his promise to not play with him. Jean shivers and arches, gasping slightly. “And then,” Eren chuckles, “You came home and just passed out.”

“Didn’t mean to,” Jean groans, restlessly combing his hands through Eren’s bed-mussed hair. “’S like I said, you’re like a damn cat...”

“My bad,” Eren snorts. He turns to kiss down Jean’s throat as he slides his fingers against him slowly, gently, doing his best not to tease. “Relax, baby,” he whispers, nuzzling into Jean’s ear once more. “Relax for me?”

When Jean nods slightly, taking a deep, shuddering breath, Eren murmurs a soft praise against his pulse, then continues downward, kissing slow and hot down his boyfriend’s chest, down his stomach until he’s rubbing his cheek against Jean’s aching arousal and peering up at him again. Jean bites his lip and spreads his thighs wider, lifting his hips slightly, so Eren flashes him a wide smile, then turns to mouth warmly up the side of his cock.

Moaning his name raggedly, Jean arches and leans his head back into the pillows, rocking his hips back against Eren’s fingers. He’s still tense, though, more so than Eren would like, so he hums and wraps his lips around the head of Jean’s cock, flicking his tongue between the studs of his piercing.

As he presses the pads of his fingers against Jean’s entrance in gentle circles, Eren starts bobbing his head over his boyfriend’s arousal, sucking and licking steadily and earning hitched, breathy moans and gasps for his efforts. Jean’s fingers wind deeper into Eren’s hair as he squirms, rocking into his rhythm, and when Eren hums and wraps his free hand around the base, Jean melts under him and pants his name quietly.

Soothed by the even rhythm of Eren’s mouth, Jean let himself sink back against the sheets, his eyes shuttering closed again. He relaxes enough that Eren can finally slip a finger into him, pressing it deep and rubbing gently for a moment before he starts thrusting it in time with his lips. Jean whines and sighs, arching slightly at the feeling, but he lets Eren take care of him, idly running his hands through his boyfriend’s messy hair as he works.

Eren pulls off and strokes Jean firmly as he licks his lips and peers up at him, making sure to keep his pace steady. Jean swallows heavily and gasps when Eren crooks his finger lightly, his hips arching, but he’s still surprisingly pliant for as much as he’d been begging. Eren groans quietly, easing a second finger into Jean. He tightens around them, his breath hitching and stuttering, but he relaxes again fairly quickly, pulling his knees back to give Eren more room to work.

“’S good, Jean,” Eren murmurs, hypnotized by the way Jean takes his fingers, by the way his thighs tremble, by the way his tongue wets his flushed lips. “Looks so good, baby, can’t wait to be inside you...”

“E-Eren,” Jean whimpers, squeezing around Eren’s fingers again as he squirms slightly. He blinks down at him and gently tugs his hair, trying to pull him closer. “C’mon...”

Smiling warmly, Eren slides his hand off Jean’s cock so he can balance above him again, his fingers still thrusting and spreading, still gently working him open. He lets Jean pull him into another lazy kiss, fucking his tongue between his lips, and when Jean moans and arches, he squeezes around his fingers again. “Mm, relax, baby,” Eren breathes, nudging their noses together as he presses his fingers deep and curves them gently, rubbing slow circles over Jean’s sweet spot. “You’re so tight, gotta take it slow...”

Jean huffs and leans his head back, obviously struggling with his impatience. He knows Eren’s right, but that doesn’t make waiting any easier. “Fuck,” he groans, raking his fingers through his hair as he blinks up at his boyfriend again. “God, l-let me suck your dick or something, I’m going crazy.”

Breathing a low, shaky moan, Eren squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in Jean’s shoulder, the rhythm of his fingers faltering for a moment. “Y-yeah, okay,” he mumbles, leaning up again. “How d’you wanna do this?”

“Just come up here,” Jean sighs, patting the bed by his head. “’S easiest.”

Eren nods and eases his fingers out of Jean, much to the blonde’s dismay. He climb up to kneel by his head then, spreading his knees enough that Jean can reach his aching cock and pull it down to his mouth. Jean wastes no time wrapping his lips around the head and flicking his tongue through Eren’s slit, moaning at the taste of his precome, before he starts moving his head and taking in more of him.

As he works, Eren watches dazedly, unable to look away from the way Jean’s lips slide over hard flesh, his narrow fingers wrapped around what he can’t reach to keep him angled down enough. He runs his dry fingers through Jean’s hair, smoothing his bangs off his forehead, and asks, “D-doesn’t that hurt your neck?”

Jean hums, then pulls back and stares right at Eren as he laves his tongue over the soaked head, slowly teasing the smooth stud of his piercing through the slit. Eren shivers, fisting his hand lightly in soft blonde, before Jean presses a wet, noisy kiss to the head, holding his gaze effortlessly.

“Not yet, it doesn’t,” he says quietly, his lips slipping through saliva and precome. “Better hurry up, though.”

“O-oh.” Eren swallows heavily and grabs the lube again, squirting more onto his fingers before leaning over enough to slip his fingers back into him. Jean moans and arches at the feeling, both of Eren’s fingers and the cool lube, then gets back to messily sucking his boyfriend’s cock.

It’s insanely hard to focus with what Jean’s doing to him, but Eren manages somehow, leaning over him on his free hand so he can thrust his fingers into him, trying not to get distracted by the tight, wet heat moving over his cock, nor by the sloppy, amazing sounds Jean’s lips and tongue make. Taking a shuddering breath, Eren works a third finger into Jean, duly encouraged to light a fire under it. Jean’s moans just make it harder to wait, muffled around his cock but eager nonetheless. Eren spreads his fingers and curls them, then thrusts them deeper, grateful that Jean’s relaxed enough that he can pick up the pace a bit.

Once Jean’s noises grow urgent again, his hips rocking down into his boyfriend’s hand, Eren groans and curves his fingers up firmly, stroking them pointedly along his sweet spot. Jean pulls off his cock and shivers out a loud, whimpering moan, writhing beneath him, before he gasps, “Eren, please—”

“F-fuck, okay, baby,” Eren mumbles, easing his fingers out again and scrambling back between Jean’s spread thighs. When Jean wraps his legs around him and tugs him closer, he licks his lips and stares intently down at Eren’s heavy arousal, unable to stop himself from wondering for the nth time what it’d feel like with nothing between them.

Eerily observant as always, Eren sits up and swallows heavily, then lightly places his hand on Jean’s hip, his hesitance clear enough to get Jean’s immediate attention.

“Eren,” Jean murmurs, wanting to offer him some reassurance, reaching down to rest his hand over Eren’s.

Before Jean gets the chance to say anything, Eren blurts, “L-let’s wait. On that.” Jean blinks widely at him, but before Eren can crumble and trip over his words, Jean sits up and pulls him into a soft, understanding kiss.

It’s an unspoken agreement between the three of them that the first time they go without condoms, it be with all three of them there. They’ve certainly done their share of fooling around since they got tested, but they’ve used condoms every time. Still, Jean’s been thinking about it all day, and it must’ve showed on his face pretty clearly.

If he’d made Eren nervous at all, the feeling seems to fade quickly enough between sweet, lazy kisses. Eren lets his hands rest on Jean’s waist as he leans into his comfort, visibly soothed, and Jean’s grateful for it.

Once Eren’s pressing against him more, licking between his lips and breathing soft moans between them, Jean pulls away with another light kiss, then leans over to grab a condom out of the open nightstand and tears it open. He bites lip and grins at Eren as he wraps his hand around him, giving him a few slow strokes, and once he’s started rolling the condom onto him, Eren leans in again and kisses him slowly, his hips rocking up into Jean’s grip.

When Jean pulls his hands off of him, Eren makes quick work of spreading more lube over the condom, watching Jean laugh and flop back against the bed, wiggling his hips eagerly. Eren grins crookedly and leans over Jean on his hands, then murmurs, “You good?”

“Been good,” Jean says quickly, wrapping his thighs around Eren’s waist and tugging again. “C’mon, I’m dyin’ here.”

Snorting softly, Eren ducks down and catches Jean’s lower lip between his teeth, nibbling gently, before he spreads his knees and shifts close enough to press against him, earning himself a breathy moan. Reaching down to steady himself, Eren exhales slowly as he sinks into Jean, squeezing his eyes shut at the tight, perfect heat surrounding him. Jean whimpers under him, his head leaned back and his hands gripping Eren’s sides, rocking his hips encouragingly as Eren slowly slides deeper.

“Oh, fuck, Jean,” Eren moans once he’s bottomed out, blinking down at his boyfriend and grinding into him minutely. Jean bites his lip and squirms, panting quickly, so Eren settles over him on his forearms and nudges their noses together as he asks, “You okay?”

“Yes, god,” Jean breathes, swallowing again before he looks up at him, his tongue wetting his flushed lips. “Feels amazing, Eren...”

Groaning his agreement, Eren gently brushes his lips against Jean’s while they adjust, unable to keep himself from lavishing affection upon his boyfriend. Jean doesn’t seem to mind in the least, though, resting his hands on Eren’s face so he can keep him close, kissing him languidly.

After a long moment, Jean leans his head back again and arches up against Eren, moaning raggedly when the brunette takes the opportunity to bite gently along the column of his throat. “Fuck, Eren,” Jean sighs, turning to give him more room, “’S okay, c’mon...”

“You ready for me?” Eren murmurs, dragging his tongue back up the light pink trail left by his teeth. Jean nods quickly, so Eren hums warmly and leans up again, kissing him deeply as he pulls his hips back.

Jean whines into the kiss as Eren thrusts back into him, his hips rolling slow and steady and so good. They kiss lazily as they move, moaning and gasping into each other, Jean’s hands sliding restlessly across dark, sweat-slick skin. He ends up draping his arms over Eren’s shoulders as he shifts closer and thrusts deeper, moaning appreciatively at the way Jean feels under him, wrapped so tight around him. Jean’s so pliant, so caught up in letting his boyfriend take care of him that it kind of makes Eren’s head spin.

“God, Jean,” Eren sighs between kisses, sliding his lips across Jean’s flushed cheek and down along his jaw. “You feel so good...” Jean murmurs his agreement, sliding his fingers through Eren’s hair.

Pausing for a moment to spread his knees wider, Eren grinds up into his boyfriend with a low moan before he starts thrusting again, moving into him more firmly, rolling his hips at more of an angle. Jean shivers and arches, whimpering his encouragement, so Eren keeps it up, ducking to kiss him again before he pushes up onto his hands and leans his weight into his thrusts.

“Fuck, Eren,” Jean moans, arching under his boyfriend and squeezing his thighs around him, his fingers sliding down Eren’s shoulders so he can grip his biceps. “Fuck, f-feels amazing, baby, missed you filling me up...”

Eren lets his head fall forward with a shaky groan as he grinds deeper, more than a little affected by Jean’s breathy praise. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah...” Jean squirms under him and pulls his knees back some, eagerly rocking his hips up in time to Eren’s steady rhythm. He shivers and squeezes around him, and Eren breathes a low, growling moan at the feeling, at how tight Jean is right now.

Truth be told, Jean’s not the only one who’s had barebacking on his mind all day. Eren spent all morning at work trying extremely hard not to think about how it would feel, how it would look, and with Jean writhing under him like this, clearly pent up and eager for more of him, it’s almost impossible not to think about it even more.

Eren sits up straight and licks his lips, his hands moving to grip Jean’s bony hips tightly. He moves faster, harder, staring down at where Jean’s stretched so perfectly around him, flushed pink and slick and far, far too appealing.

“E-Eren,” Jean gasps, reaching out to grip Eren’s forearms, just for something to hold onto. He swallows heavily, then pushes gently, his fingers shaking on Eren’s wrists. Slowing down again, Eren pulls his hands away and blinks up at Jean, who reassures him with a flushed, crooked grin. Then he wiggles closer, further into Eren’s lap, and pulls his knees up to his chest, pressing his thighs together.

Bent back like this, Jean’s insanely tight around Eren’s cock, holding him deep and squeezing him and generally driving him entirely crazy. Eren groans raggedly and grips the backs of Jean’s narrow thighs, helpfully pressing them against his chest, and when he looks down again, the view is somehow a thousand times better.

“Fuck, Jean,” Eren breathes, unable to look away as he pulls nearly all the way out, entranced by the way Jean stretches and tightens around him, already trying to pull him back in. He thrusts back in with a smooth, hard roll of his hips, a soft slap of skin on skin, and the needy sound Jean makes at that is absolutely hypnotizing. He’s just as affected as Eren, just as overwhelmed by how good it feels to be spread open on Eren’s cock, and the way his thighs are already shaking at the feeling lights an insatiable fire in Eren’s blood.

Moving quickly, Eren spreads Jean’s thighs apart again and pins them to the sheets on either side of him, bracing his hands on the backs of his knees so he can really fuck into him, making good use of his strength to have Jean arching off the bed and crying out for him, his hands scrabbling for purchase on dark skin.

He barely manages another few long, deep thrusts before he can’t take any more. Jean’s squirming under him, moaning for him and dragging his short nails in sharp lines down his shoulders, and Eren wants to do everything to him.

“Jean, Jean,” Eren gasps, biting his lip around a rough groan as he slams his cock into his boyfriend. “Jean, w-we gotta stop, babe...”

“W-what?” Jean stares blearily up at Eren, immediately distracted again by how deep Eren’s fucking him, completely at odds with his words. “E-Eren—”

With a soft moan, Eren leans down and kisses Jean deliriously, grinding hard into him with every thrust, and even still, it’s not quite enough. “We gotta s-stop,” Eren tries again, shifting to bury his face in Jean’s neck, “I-I—I wanna—”

“Eren,” Jean groans, squirming out of Eren’s grip so he can think straight. He reaches down and grabs Eren’s ass, trying to hold him still, muffling a breathless moan in his shaggy hair. “C’mon, w-what’re you—”

Eren swallows heavily and finally complies, burying himself deep inside and wrapping his arms firmly around Jean’s waist, gathering him closer. He drags hot, wet kisses up the line of Jean’s throat, nuzzling brainlessly against his ear, before he finally whimpers, “I-I wanna do it.”

Jean squints at the ceiling, his brow furrowing in confusion. “We are doing it.”

“No, I mean—” Eren groans and shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts together. “R-raw,” he finally manages, his voice a tiny squeak.

There’s a long pause before Jean wheezes, “Oh.”

“S-sorry,” Eren mumbles, hiding further in Jean’s shoulder, his arms tightening around his narrow waist. “Sorry, I just—”

“Move, move,” Jean interrupts, wriggling around in Eren’s grip again. Eren whines, but sits up, giving Jean enough room to snatch his phone off the nightstand with shaky hands. He unlocks the screen to a text from Marco, probably the one that had woken him up earlier, and reads it quickly. The words ‘my afternoon meeting got canceled’ have never been so wildly appreciated. “Oh, thank god.”

Still fidgeting shyly, Eren makes a questioning noise, doing his best to keep it together.

“Marco got off early today too,” Jean says, relief clear on his face. “He should be home—”

“You know,” comes a familiar, amused voice from the bedroom door, “I should start keeping track of how many times I walk in on you two fooling around. There’s gotta be some kind of record for this.”

Marco barely has time to drop his bag before Eren’s already reaching out for him, pulling him by his tie into a messy, needy kiss. Luckily, Marco’s nothing if not understanding, so he lets his boyfriends pull him onto the bed with a laugh. While Eren’s curling their tongues together, he makes quick work of Marco’s tie, then starts unbuttoning his shirt, and Jean wiggles out of Eren’s lap and off his cock so he can start on Marco’s belt. Eren whines at the loss, but the way Marco ducks and gently sinks his teeth into the crook of Eren’s neck is sufficiently distracting.

Once he’s gotten Marco’s belt undone and his pants unfastened, Jean pushes them aside and pulls Marco’s cock out of his boxers with a sigh, giving it a quick, loose stroke before wrapping his lips around him, easily fitting all of his half-hard length in his mouth. Marco groans and reaches down to tangle his fingers in Jean’s hair, gently encouraging him as he sets to leaving a dark hickey on Eren’s pulse.

Jean bobs his head slowly, moaning around his mouthful. It’s a rare treat for him to feel Marco getting hard in his mouth, so he enjoys it shamelessly, unconcerned for the sloppy, wet sounds his lips make around Marco’s growing arousal. It doesn’t take long to have Marco flushed and aching, his hips rocking up into Jean’s insistent sucking, his fingers tightening in Jean’s hair as he moans against Eren’s throat.

Only slightly distracted by the sight Jean makes burying his face in Marco’s lap, Eren shakes his head and focuses on working open the rest of Marco’s buttons, more than happy to help rid him of his shirt once he’s managed it. He shifts his hands to Marco’s face and pulls him up for more kisses, leaning into him with a ragged moan, a sound Marco mirrors easily as he curls his tongue between Eren’s lips.

Marco shifts slightly, trying not to dislodge Jean, then reaches down and wraps his free hand around Eren’s cock, happily drinking in the stuttering sigh Eren breathes at the feeling. Marco grins widely, then gasps and shivers when Jean takes him deep and swallows around him, nearly choking on him as he does. Wanting to feel more of Eren, Marco gently rolls the condom off of him and throws it off the bed, then wraps his hand around him more firmly, giving him a few slow, easy strokes.

“G-god, Marco,” Eren gasps, nuzzling his face against Marco’s. “M-Marco, I—”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Marco rumbles softly, his voice so low and heady that Eren can’t help but whimper for him, resting their foreheads together as he rocks into Marco’s hand. Jean’s moaning around him too, already melted across the bed so he can languidly rut against the sheets, his hands fisted in Marco’s pants to keep them out of the way of his lips. He swallows a thick mouthful of Marco’s precome, then hollows his cheeks and pulls off altogether, wiping his flushed lips against his arm before crawling up into Marco’s lap and rocking his hips against him.

Wrapping one arm around Jean’s waist, Marco moves further onto the bed, then nudges his nose against Eren’s, murmuring soft encouragement against his lips.

“I-if you want,” Eren manages after a moment, swallowing thickly when his voice cracks a little. “I wanna t-try—uh.”

Marco smiles warmly and blinks up at him, brushing his lips soothingly against Eren’s. He’s been careful not to push, knowing that Eren’s nervous about this, so rather than speak for him, Marco rubs his thumb gently over the head of Eren’s cock and nudges him again. Jean’s squirming in his lap, his hands holding his and Marco’s cocks together as he does, his eyes closed in hazy pleasure.

Eren huffs quietly, squeezing his eyes shut as well, before he buries his face in Marco’s hair and mumbles, “C-can we... not use condoms this time?”

“Absolutely,” Marco replies immediately, tilting his head up enough to budge Eren into another sweet kiss. “If you’re ready for it.” Eren hums against Marco’s lips, then nods, his cheeks flushed dark and so, so pretty. Marco smiles widely and kisses him again before he turns to Jean and pulls him into a lazy, messy kiss, moaning into him when Jean rubs their cocks together more firmly, his thumbs playing through their dripping precome. “You good with that?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Jean sighs, catching Marco’s lip in his teeth. “So good.”

“Mm, I know you woke up in a mood,” Marco chuckles. Jean grumbles against him, slipping his tongue along the part of Marco’s lips before pulling away again and leaning up onto his knees so he can reach Eren, coaxing him into a deep, easy kiss. Marco hums at the sight, then moves Jean out of his lap so he can stand up and take off his pants properly. Eren and Jean both leer at him as he does, so he laughs at them and gives his slick cock a long, teasing stroke, sticking his tongue out playfully.

Not even trying to conceal his immense thirst, Jean stares openly at Marco’s cock for a moment longer before he shivers and turns to Eren again, melting against his chest and dragging his lips along the strong line of his jaw with a low moan. “How d’you wanna do this?” he asks, nuzzling Eren gently and burying his hands in his shaggy hair, scratching soothingly behind his ears until Eren leans into him with a soft whine.

“Uh,” Eren replies eloquently, his hands gripping Jean’s narrow hips tightly.

There are too many options to consider now that this is actually happening. He’s imagined too many different scenarios, harbored too many lengthy fantasies about it, so the idea of actually picking one is just about overwhelming. Eren swallows heavily and turns to Marco for help, and Marco laughs softly and runs an idle hand through his hair, then crawls back onto the bed, pressing a soothing kiss to Eren’s bitten lips.

“How about,” Marco hums, “You continue with what you were doing?”

Eren frowns slightly at that. “What about you?”

Smiling widely, Marco leans in and sucks Eren’s lower lip between his, laving his tongue over it with a quiet sigh before slowly letting it go again so he can press his lips against Eren’s once more. Eren shivers and leans into him, parting his lips easily, and Marco’s more than happy to slide his tongue between, tilting his head to fit them together. Jean hums contently, still rubbing behind Eren’s ears, then shifts forward enough to rub his cock against Eren’s, just something to help ease the growing ache.

Once Marco pulls away, he nudges his nose against Eren’s and whispers, “You have no idea how bad I wanna see you come inside him.” Eren shivers and whines at that, pulling Jean closer by his hips. “So don’t worry about me just yet, okay?”

Jean leans over and gently butts his head against Marco’s shoulder, then laughs, “You really like watching, huh.”

Marco shrugs cheerfully, aiming a teasing grin at Jean. “Yeah. And drawing things out, you know that.” He pokes his lower lip out in a theatrical pout and asks, “Don’t you like indulging me?”

“Oh, you know I do,” Jean snickers, nipping lightly at that pout. “I’d even go so far as to say you’re spoiled.”

Eren snorts at that and pinches Jean’s ass, earning a funny little squeak. “You’re the one getting fucked, and he’s spoiled? That’s rich.”

“Dick.” Sticking his tongue out at Eren, Jean pulls away again and turns to consider the bed, likely contemplating fun and interesting ways to occupy the space. He turns back to Eren quickly enough with a wide grin, then leans forward and sighs, “Hey, how about I ride you now?”

Groaning softly, Eren lets his eyes shutter closed as he leans his forehead on Jean’s shoulder, his hands restlessly squeezing Jean’s ass. “F-fuck,” he mumbles, “Um. O-okay, yeah.”

“Yeah?” Jean rubs his cheek against Eren’s head, crawling further into his lap with a warm hum. “That work for you?”

Eren nods shakily, pulling Jean’s hips against his with his firm grip on his ass, before leaning back to blink up at Marco, his eyebrows raised in question.

“Sounds awesome,” Marco says soothingly, resting his hand on Eren’s cheek. He smiles widely and moves in for another soft kiss, purring contently when Eren leans into him for more. Before either of them get too distracted, though, Marco sits back on his heels and steals Jean right out of Eren’s lap. Jean squawks, but lets himself be moved, maybe more than a little pleased about being manhandled. Marco chuckles as he pulls him back against his chest and kisses up the nape of his neck, his arms wrapped easily around Jean’s narrow waist, idly rubbing his arousal against the small of Jean’s back with a happy sigh.

Eren laughs at them, especially at how easily Jean melts back into Marco’s embrace, before he turns and crawls up toward the head of the bed, settling himself comfortably on his back. He stuffs a few pillows under his head, trying very hard to look casual.

Fondly watching Eren fidget for a moment, Marco hums softly and presses a warm kiss behind Jean’s ear, his hands trailing lightly up his boyfriend’s bony chest. Jean leans his head back for more kisses, briefly tangling his fingers in Marco’s hair, before he whispers, “Next time, you’re going first.”

“Okay,” Marco chuckles, smiling against Jean’s lips.

“And second and third.”

Marco snorts at that and shakes his head, but Jean knows full well that Marco’s taking his words to heart.

For now, Jean arches up for one more kiss, silently promising him a heap of spoiling, before he turns and crawls up into Eren’s lap, straddling him easily and giving him a soft, reassuring smile. “Hey.”

“H-hey,” Eren laughs, resting his trembling hands on Jean’s hips, his lip caught between his teeth.

Jean leans down and makes himself comfortable on Eren’s chest, burying his hands in soft, dark hair as he rocks his hips languidly, sighing at the sweet friction of their cocks rubbing together. Eren swallows and presses up against him, his thighs parting slightly. He tugs Jean down so he can reach him again, and he lets his boyfriend kiss away his rising nerves, determined not to let them get the best of him.

As they’re kissing, Eren feels Marco come to sit between his knees, so he spreads them further to give him room. Marco hums appreciatively and runs his warm hands up the insides of Eren’s thighs, his knuckles brushing along dark, sensitive skin in a way that has Eren shivering and arching up for more, grinding his cock harder against Jean’s.

Marco pulls his hands away, though, and there’s a quiet click, and then Jean’s gasping a pretty moan against Eren’s lips and arching his back, his brow furrowing in pleasure. Eren slides his hand down until he finds Marco’s, two of his slick fingers thrusting and spreading steadily inside of Jean. Jean whines and leans his head back, rocking onto Marco’s fingers. When Marco hums and buries his fingers deep, Eren figures he’s rubbing against Jean’s prostate, because Jean’s hips buck and his voice cracks as he trembles and squirms, breathing a wavering moan of Marco’s name.

Satisfied with Eren’s earlier prep, Marco doesn’t indulge Jean for long. Jean gives a disappointed little whimper when Marco eases his fingers out, but he lifts his hips anyway, and Eren doesn’t have time to figure out why before Marco’s reaching under Jean and wrapping his fingers around Eren’s bare cock.

Eren chokes out a quiet moan and arches into Marco’s hand, tilting his head back at the feeling of those long fingers curled so easily around him, spreading lube over him and rubbing his thumb along the subtle, sensitive folds of Eren’s foreskin without even having to look. Marco knows him so well by now, having memorized how he likes to be touched and when, how to stroke him to have him melting for him, how his breath picks up with every gentle tug. He knows when to pull away, too, and Eren whimpers when he does, his teeth digging into his lip.

Bending down to drag his lips up the soft curve of Jean’s spine, Marco leans over them both so he can press a hot, sweet kiss to the nape of Jean’s neck, gently rubbing the tip of his nose against the shaved hair at the base of his skull. Jean moans for him and reaches back to tangle his fingers in his boyfriend’s hair, but Marco pulls away before he can, laughing softly at the disgruntled sound Jean makes.

Having helped out as best he can, Marco rolls onto the bed beside them and leans in close to nibble lightly at the curve of Eren’s shoulder. Eren sighs and turns toward him, sliding his arm under Marco’s head so he can gather him closer and bury his face in his hair, silently requesting his affection.

Marco hums contently, then shifts to brush his lips along Eren’s flushed cheekbone as he breathes, “I love you, Eren.”

Eren whimpers slightly, tilting his head to catch his lips again, and as he does, Jean rocks down against him and drags his tongue along his ear. He repeats the words to him, his voice low and tender, his hands sliding so lovingly across Eren’s chest. Eren shivers at the feeling, biting his lip, but before he can get too caught up in emotion, Marco pulls back slightly and nudges his nose against his, slowly sliding his palm down Eren’s warm stomach.

As he wraps his hand around him again, Marco hums, then whispers, “You’re gonna love how he feels around you.” Eren shivers and blinks up at him, rocking his hips up, and Jean moans softly and drags his teeth down Eren’s flushed neck. Marco languidly rubs his thumb across the head of Eren’s cock, spreading around thick precome and lube as he continues, “It’s so amazing, the way he squeezes you when there’s nothing between you and him. You’re gonna feel so good, Eren, I know it.”

“F-fuck, Marco,” Eren gasps, swallowing heavily as his head falls back into the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut.

Eren’s not the only one so affected by Marco’s words. Jean’s shaking in Eren’s lap, his breath panting out hot against Eren’s throat, before he sits up enough to look at them both. Marco’s biting his lip around a teasing grin, his playful eyes damn near sparkling. He knows exactly what his words do to them both, and seeing Jean licking his lips and writhing in Eren’s lap is incredibly satisfying.

Jean shifts over and kisses Marco messily, shivering out a broken moan when Marco licks into him with a low, aroused hum. Before long, though, Marco pulls away so he can nudge Jean pointedly, murmuring something encouraging as he pulls his hand away from Eren’s straining arousal.

Leaning over Eren on his hands, Jean blinks down at his flushed boyfriend and circles his hips against him, earning another flustered moan. Eren opens his eyes and focuses his bleary gaze on Jean, swallowing at the intensity of the heat in his hooded gaze. He rubs his palm up Jean’s side, and Marco gently pulls Eren’s other hand from around his shoulders, guiding it to Jean’s hip with a soft sigh. He doesn’t pull away, though, entirely content to melt against Eren’s side like this for now.

“Hey, Eren,” Jean murmurs after a moment, his tongue wetting his dry lips. “Can I?”

Biting his lip lightly, Eren runs his thumbs along Jean’s hip bones and takes a deep breath. He’s nervous, sure, but he trusts Jean implicitly. Marco, too. They’ve been here for him this whole time, and they’ll keep being here for him. Trust is what this whole thing is really about, even above how outrageously hot the idea is. He trusts them, they trust him, and with that in mind, Eren glances up at Jean and nods his head firmly.

Jean smiles widely and ducks to kiss him again, grateful and tender and so loving it has Eren’s heart jittering in his chest. Then he’s leaning up on his knees, though, and his arms are already shaking, so Eren slides one hand between them and steadies his cock for him. Jean brushes a thankful kiss to the tip of Eren’s nose, then sits upright, pressing back until the head of Eren’s cock rubs against his slick entrance.

Moaning raggedly, Jean reaches down and grabs the hand still clutching his hip, twining his fingers with Eren’s with a gentle squeeze. He braces his other hand on Eren’s chest, then sinks down onto him, and with as relaxed as he is from being spread open earlier, it doesn’t take much at all before he’s firmly seated in Eren’s lap, his flushed lips parted around a panting, shaky moan of his name.

While Jean’s adjusting to him, to the heat and the weight of him so hard inside him, Eren’s just trying not to lose his mind already.

Jean’s so good.

Like, he knew that already, but with nothing between them, it’s intense enough to be blinding. He’s tight and hot and slick, and somehow so soft around him, tensing so perfectly around him. Eren leans his head back and shivers out a weak groan, pulling his hand out from between them. Jean grabs that hand too and laces their fingers quickly, and Eren’s glad for the support, because he’s seriously not sure he’s going to live through how incredible it feels to be inside Jean like this.

Eren manages to whimper a soft curse, his heels digging into the sheets as he blinks up at Jean and moans for him, drinking in how flushed, how pretty Jean looks like this.

“I told you,” Marco breathes against his ear, his voice low and hot and so satisfied. He’s letting his hand rest low on Eren’s stomach for now, idly drawing his fingers through the dark curls trailing down from Eren’s navel. “He’s so good, yeah?”

The first response Eren manages isn’t anything even close to English. He clears his throat and tries again, this time mumbling, “O-oh my god.”

Marco chuckles warmly, his teeth catching Eren’s sensitive earlobe for a moment before he turns to Jean and hums, moving his hand to soothe up and down Jean’s side.

“F-fuck, Eren,” Jean moans, chills running across his flushed skin as he rocks his hips slightly, his pierced cock absolutely dripping precome onto Eren’s stomach. He licks his lips and squeezes Eren’s hands in his, his thighs hot against Eren’s sides, then tilts his head back with a broken moan. “Fuck, you feel so good... I-I’m gonna move, okay?”

Eren wheezes slightly, but he nods anyway. He’s not exactly prepared for it, but he doubts he ever will be, so he bends his knees up a little and braces his feet against the bed, grinding his cock up into Jean with a hitched moan. Jean takes a deep, unsteady breath, his hands squeezing Eren’s once more before he guides them back to his hips, then braces his own on Eren’s chest again.

At first, Jean moves his hips slowly, rocking back and forth in Eren’s lap as steadily as he can when he’s in very real danger of shaking apart from the feeling. Eren’s so hot inside him, and with nothing between them, he can feel every part of him so much more than usual. It’s intense, hot sparks of arousal rolling in waves all through him, and as if the slick drag of Eren’s cock inside him wasn’t enough, the tight grip Eren has on his hips has him gasping. Eren’s moaning for him already, his expression open, honest pleasure, and he’s already pulling Jean down onto him with every shaky thrust, his hips rocking up to meet him every time.

Jean shudders out a whimpering moan and leans his head back, then starts moving faster, craving more of Eren’s thick, heavy cock spreading him open, filling him up, almost too much for Jean to handle from this angle.

“G-god, Eren,” Jean gasps, “Y-you’re so—fuck, c’mon, baby...”

Eren just groans in response, his hands restlessly petting Jean’s hips, his sides, his thighs. Everywhere they’re touching is dizzyingly hot, every brush of skin on sensitive skin kindling fires, and Marco’s heat against his side just amplifies the sensation, especially with the way he’s trailing his knuckles slowly up Eren’s chest.

Just as Marco starts gently pinching and squeezing one of Eren’s pierced nipples between his fingers, humming softly in his ear as he does, Jean peers down at him and shifts his weight slightly, his gaze dark and needy and far, far too tempting. He spreads his knees further, then balances more on his hands, and when he starts lifting his hips high, sinking back hard, Eren honestly thinks he might pass out.

He moves up into Jean as best he can, panting out his and Marco’s names in humid, desperate moans, trying not to think too hard about how soft and hot and good, so good Jean feels around him. It’s hard to avoid, though, when Marco’s playing with his nipples and kissing his neck, and when Jean’s short nails are starting to dig into his skin slightly, the faint sting just amplifying everything else until it’s all nearly overwhelming.

Then, of course, Jean shifts his weight again and finds a really good angle.

Jean throws his head back and cries out at the feeling, dropping hard onto Eren’s cock and grinding deeper, but Eren almost misses the sound with the way his ears are ringing. Jean always squeezes around him when he’s hitting him just right, but it’s never been like this. It’s so intense, so much all at once, and Eren’s shocked still for a moment as he stutters out a loud, wavering moan.

Without even giving Eren room to recover, Jean sits up and leans back, moving to brace his hands on Eren’s spread thighs, and he trusts Eren to hold his weight as he starts honest-to-god bouncing on his cock.

At this angle, every thrust wrings a noisy, breathless moan out of Jean, his hips snapping down harder and harder, and Eren’s just holding on as best he can like this. His eyes are squeezed shut tight, his hands gripping Jean’s hips to anchor himself, and he’s not even really sure he’s breathing anymore. He’s gasping for air and spending it all moaning Jean’s name, every shaking part of him ablaze. The way Jean feels around him when he’s hitting his sweet spot like this is beyond words, better than Eren could have ever hoped for and certainly more than he can handle.

“F-fuck, Jean, Jean,” Eren rasps, “G-getting close, baby, ‘s too good—”

Jean whines in response, his hips starting to lose their rhythm, his aching cock slapping heavily against Eren’s soaked stomach. He squeezes hard around him, gasping when Eren’s back arches away from the sheets, his hips slamming up hard, and before he can find the brain power to tell Eren that it’s okay if he comes, Eren’s bolting upright with a low, desperate growl and wrapping his arms around Jean’s narrow waist.

The world spins quickly, Jean’s breath escaping him in an overwhelmed huff when his back hits the sheets. Eren had flipped them back over, and now he’s balanced over Jean on his hands again and spreading his knees in the sheets, and when he starts moving again, it’s with a wild fervor that has Jean arching high against him, crying out for more, his nails dragging bright lines down Eren’s ribs.

Eren can’t possibly last like this, not with how good Jean is. He whimpers when Jean locks his thighs around his waist, pulling him deeper with every rough thrust. He’s overwhelmed and he knows it, so he opens his eyes and looks down at Jean, down at where he’s taking him so, so perfectly. It’s the same view as earlier, but now Eren can see that there’s nothing between them, can see his bare cock pounding into Jean, and it’s way, way too much to handle.

“Fuck, fuck, J-Jean,” he stammers, fucking into him harder and harder as he loses control, “Jean, ‘m gonna c-come—”

Jean writhes under him and gasps his frantic approval, rocking his hips up against Eren’s as best he can, eagerly meeting every stuttering thrust Eren has for him. Jean’s holding him so deep, tightening and shaking around him the way he does when he’s close too, his voice loud and breathless around them as he pleads, “C-come inside me, inside, baby please—”

It’s all too much.

Eren curls over Jean and bucks his hips deep inside him, losing himself in the way Jean’s quaking against him, wrapping his arms around Eren’s shoulders and clinging tighter. He buries his face in the crook of Jean’s neck to muffle the way he’s crying out for him, his voice loud and shaky and so far beyond his control at this point. He’s coming hard, his hips still slamming into Jean, but now there’s no condom to catch his come, and the thing that ruins him is the fact that he can feel his cock sliding messily inside Jean’s tight, tight heat. It’s completely different, and it’s so good Eren thinks he might cry, his body wrapping helplessly around Jean’s as he all but sobs his name against his pulse.

He’s vaguely aware of Marco pressing himself against Jean’s side, reaching between them and wrapping his hand around Jean’s cock so he can stroke him quickly, the slick sounds all the more enticing. Jean arches tight under him, throwing his head back with a loud, wavering, overwhelmed wail, and just when Eren thinks he might be coming down, Jean’s coming around him, and he’s lost all over again.

Eren’s still grinding his cock into him when Jean whimpers his name and squirms against him, the fingers tangled in Eren’s hair tugging lightly. He sounds so fucked out, his voice cracking around brainless whines, so Eren gathers him closer and buries himself deep, somehow convincing his body to finally stop moving. It’d been too damn good, and he’s pretty sure he fucked them both into overstimulation, but somehow, he still wants more, even though every move is too much, too intense, too perfect around his oversensitive cock.

At some point, he’d wrapped his arms under Jean’s waist so he could cling tighter to him, so Jean’s barely even on the bed anymore. Eren groans and sets him down gently, then nuzzles under his jaw, his breath still unsteady as he mouths slowly down the line of Jean’s throat. Jean shivers and moans at the attention, his short nails dragging over the nape of Eren’s neck, before he turns to lean into Marco’s patient, soothing murmurs.

Careful not to rest too much of his weight on Jean, Eren drags his lips down to the crook of his neck, then to his collarbone, where he sets to hazily marking his flushed, sweat-slick skin. Jean threads his fingers deeper into Eren’s hair, pressing him closer with a shaky exhale. As he does, Marco curls his fingers under Jean’s chin and coaxes him into a slow, easy kiss, moaning against his lips and happily breathing in the hitched sighs Jean lets out. Jean whines softly, then pushes one arm under Marco’s neck so he can pull him close, craving his proximity.

“F-fuck, Jean,” Eren manages after a while, once he’s left several small hickeys along Jean’s collarbone. He’s still not entirely capable of coherent speech, so he leans up and nuzzles Jean’s cheek instead. He moves the arm stuffed between his boyfriends, lazily draping it over Marco’s warm waist, before resting his forehead against Jean’s chest with a long, low exhale.

Marco hums against Jean’s lips, tangling their tongues eagerly, idly stroking himself with the hand still slick with Jean’s come. It’s an easy pace, just meant to hold him over while his boyfriends recover. Eren sits up slowly, biting his lip at the mess of Jean’s come between them, smeared across his and Jean’s stomachs and dripping along Marco’s knuckles, down his flushed arousal. He lowers his gaze to where he’s still buried inside Jean, his teeth digging harder into his lip. Jean squirms slightly, turning to glance up at him through his eyelashes, and when Eren looks back up at him, Jean offers him a crooked, flushed grin, shamelessly spreading his thighs wider to give Eren a good look.

Groaning raggedly, Eren drags his hands down his face and tries to keep it together, chills already running across his sweat-slick skin. When he pulls out, it’s gonna make even more of a mess, and the amount of times he has jerked off to that mental image alone before now is enough to assure him that he is utterly doomed.

“Go on,” Jean breathes, his grin widening into something downright teasing. Marco’s watching with obvious interest too, licking his lips as he tightens his fist around the slick head of his cock.

With another deep breath, Eren swallows heavily and looks back down, then slowly pulls out of Jean, and the hot rush of come that spills out after him is most likely going to haunt his dreams forever. He moans breathlessly, watching it drip out of Jean and onto the sheets, unable to hide how very, very affected he is by the sight.

Meanwhile, the feeling is apparently more than Jean can handle, based on the way he snorts, then slaps a hand over his mouth.

Eren and Marco both stare at him, watching Jean shake with badly-contained laughter, his face flushed dark and his eyes squeezed shut and his hair a mess, and both of them feel an identical rush of absurd affection for their giggly boyfriend.

“What?” Eren laughs, squeezing Jean’s thighs with a wide grin.

“I f-forgot how it feels,” Jean snickers, his voice still muffled by his hand. He lets his head fall back against the sheets and wiggles slightly, sucking on his lips to contain more laughter. “Sh-shut up.”

Marco grins and leans over to nip lightly at Jean’s ear, entirely amused by his boyfriend’s post-orgasm giddiness. “I thought you liked it.”

“I do!” Jean huffs and tries to regain his composure, but he can’t quite hide the way the corners of his lips turn up. “I really, really do. It’s just been a really long time. I forgot.”

Eren leans over Jean and nudges him into a warm, sweet kiss, biting and licking at his lips playfully until Jean wraps his arms around him again and pulls him closer, humming against his lips. He combs his fingers through Eren’s hair, his touches silently loving and praising, even though he’s still squirming slightly at the slick feeling between his thighs.

Marco sits up and leans over to the nightstand to grab some tissues, gently sliding a few into Eren’s loose hand so he can clean himself up. While Jean’s distracted, Marco bites his lip and reaches between his boyfriends, dragging his fingers through the dripping mess of Eren’s come. Jean gasps and arches against Eren, then spreads his shaking thighs wider with a groan. Marco can’t help but slip two of his fingers inside Jean, gently and cautiously in case he’s still too sensitive, groaning at how slick, how easy the slide is.

“M-Marco,” Jean whines, his hips rocking as Eren gently nibbles on his lower lip, teasing bitten flesh between his teeth in a way that has Jean clinging tighter to him. Jean leans his head back with a low moan as Marco pulls his fingers out again, curling them gently as he goes, before he sets to actually cleaning him up with trembling hands.

Once all three of them are at least wiped down, Marco tosses their crumpled tissues haphazardly on the nightstand and flops back next to Jean, curling his fingers around his cock again with a low sigh. Eren glances over at him and licks his lips, then reaches out and gently pulls Marco’s hand away, replacing it with his own. Marco hums and arches up into Eren’s firm grip, his eyes fluttering closed, and just as Jean rolls toward him and takes his earlobe between his teeth, Eren leans down and wraps his lips around Marco’s cock, humming quietly at the way he twitches in his mouth.

Marco shivers out a soft moan and reaches down to thread his fingers into Eren’s hair, tugging appreciatively at the care with which Eren sucks him deeper, his hand curled loosely around the base and rubbing gently. Jean all but purrs in his ear, grinning widely and watching Eren bob his head over Marco’s arousal. The sight gives him an idea, though, and he can’t possibly pass it up once it occurs to him.

He turns to Marco again and nuzzles into his ear with a low laugh, earning himself a pretty shiver, then murmurs, “Hey, I wanna try something.”

It takes a second for the words to register, with the way Eren’s burying his nose in the soft curls at the base of Marco’s cock and swallowing around him, his hand sliding down to rub gently along the soft, sensitive join of his thigh. Once Marco’s got his head on straight, he turns to look at Jean, nudging their noses together and nodding eagerly.

Jean grins widely, then reaches down and gently tugs on Eren’s hair, guiding him up off his cock. Eren blinks at him curiously and licks his lips, his hand picking up his slack. As they watch, Jean flops back onto the bed again and piles some pillows under his head, and once he’s comfortable, he aims a crooked grin at Marco and says, “Come sit on my face.”

If Marco was blushing before, it’s nothing on how red his face is now, between the idea, Jean’s downright lecherous expression, and the way Eren groans raggedly and gently squeezes Marco’s cock. He opens his mouth to say something, struggling slightly with words before he finally manages, “H-how are you going to breathe?”

“Easily,” Jean replies simply, already licking his lips. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, but don’t hold back on my account. It’s been, like, a hundred years since I ate you out last. You’re overdue.” Marco’s hips twitch up into Eren’s hand, and he only hesitates for a second longer before he wheezes out his approval.

Eren grins playfully and pulls his hand off Marco’s cock, already reaching out to help him up onto his knees. He guides him into kneeling over Jean’s shoulders, still facing Eren, and as Jean wiggles into position under him, he reaches up and splays his hands on Marco’s soft stomach, gently petting every part of him he can reach while Marco gets himself settled.

Marco shivers slightly, still flushed bright tomato red, then glances at Eren, who’s biting his lip and looking him up and down, obviously appreciating the view. Eren flicks his eyes up to Marco’s and gives him a reassuring smile, then crawls closer and leans up toward him, and when Marco ducks to catch his lips, leaning gratefully into his affection, Eren’s smile widens against his lips.

Apparently satisfied with Marco’s positioning, Jean runs his hands down to Marco’s hips and squeezes them firmly before leaning up and dragging a slow, hot kiss along his entrance. Marco moans raggedly, his breath panting out hot between increasingly needy kisses, his thighs spreading further. Duly encouraged, Jean closes his eyes and kisses him again, then languidly draws the tip of his tongue over him, and the sound Marco makes at that along with the way his thighs tremble has Jean moaning softly, his lips pressing the rumbling sound against him.

Entirely distracted by the lazy, teasing way Jean’s spoiling him, Marco rests his forehead against Eren’s and whimpers softly, his thumbs running restlessly along Eren’s flushed cheeks. Nudging their noses together, Eren licks his lips and murmurs, “Feel good, sweetheart?”

Marco gives a shivering little sigh and nods, his eyes fluttering closed. Eren hums contently, then leans up to brush their lips together again. He doesn’t linger, though, instead ducking into Marco’s flushed neck and dragging his tongue down to his collarbone. Before Marco can question it, Jean’s pulling his hips down more, and then he laves the pierced flat of his tongue all along Marco’s entrance, moaning against him and earning a louder, sweeter whine from his boyfriend at the feeling.

Still kneeling between Jean’s sprawled thighs, Eren hums and starts kissing his way down Marco’s chest, nuzzling his nose into the soft, dark hair trailing down his body as he goes. Marco’s stomach tenses slightly under Eren’s lips, his back arching as Jean licks broad, messy circles against him, humming and kissing between as he happily makes a mess of his boyfriend.

As he’s dragging his teeth along the curve of Marco’s hip bone, sparing a passing kiss for Jean’s knuckles as he goes, Eren shifts down onto his elbows on top of Jean, which puts him at just the right height to go back to what he’d been doing before they moved. He scoots closer and drags his tongue up the underside of Marco’s heavy, dripping arousal, moaning quietly at the way Marco’s hips rock forward and smear precome along his cheek.

Eren presses a hot, wet kiss to the flushed hood of Marco’s foreskin, sucking it gently between his lips and earning himself a shaky moan, before he opens his mouth and lets the head of Marco’s cock rest on his tongue. He blinks up at Marco then, sighing hot at the beautiful, flustered expression on his boyfriend’s face as he stares at him. Humming warmly, Eren holds Marco’s gaze as he slowly pulls him back into his mouth, sucking enticingly and curving his tongue around him in a way that has Marco fisting a hand in his hair and gasping.

His hands come to rest on Marco’s thighs as he starts bobbing his head evenly, keeping his teasingly slow pace as he takes him deeper and deeper with every pass. Marco’s thighs are shaking harder, especially as Jean starts teasing him more insistently with his tongue between eager, loving kisses. Marco sits up slightly and reaches his free hand behind himself, gripping the headboard like an anchor, doing his best to stay still. Jean, on the other hand, tugs on Marco’s hips again and pulls him down more, moaning raggedly as he nuzzles up against him, enthusiastically burying his face in his boyfriend’s ass. He sighs and drags his short nails up and down Marco’s warm stomach, teasing him further, before he seals his lips against him and flicks the soft tip of his tongue over Marco’s entrance. Marco shivers and whines for him, arching back for more, so Jean licks him harder, coaxing him into relaxing for him until he can easily slip his tongue inside of him.

Marco’s hips buck slightly at that, his hitched moan sharp and breathless, his muscles tensing with the urge to squirm under all this attention. Eren’s still taking him so slowly, his lips wrapped tight around him and his tongue curled against the sensitive underside, flicking over the head every time he pulls back enough, moaning at the taste of Marco’s precome as it spills hot over his tongue.

As Jean runs his hands along Marco’s ribs, he leans up and licks into him more insistently, thrusting his tongue inside of him at a slow, steady pace just to hear the way Marco whimpers his name and trembles for him.

He’s shaking badly, probably badly enough that Jean should bend him over so he doesn’t have to work so hard to stay in place, but Jean’s honestly getting off on having Marco above him like this way more than he’d expected. He gives Marco’s sides a gentle, apologetic squeeze, hoping that he can hold on for just a little longer as he closes his eyes and concentrates on curling his tongue into Marco in a way that has him gasping out sweet, stuttering little pleas for his boyfriends.

Marco, meanwhile, has all but slumped forward over Eren at this point, his breath coming in quick pants as he’s so thoroughly spoiled by his normally impatient boyfriends. They’re working in such perfect, achingly slow sync to pull him apart, their hands and their mouths almost more than he can take like this. He’s whining and moaning and gasping for them, either begging for more or begging for mercy, and the sweet sound of their names in his breathless voice is starting to get to them both.

The way Eren’s positioned, he can feel Jean’s cock pressing hard against his stomach, so he shifts forward and rubs his hips against him, slowly grinding their cocks together and earning himself a low, muffled moan. Jean slips his tongue out and presses his lips against Marco again, his hot breath and his teasing kisses almost overwhelming against soft, sensitive skin.

When Jean pulls one of his hands down and carefully eases a spit-slick finger into Marco, he groans at the tight, hot fit. Marco keens shakily and rolls his hips down for more, tilting his head back and gasping Jean’s name. Jean hums in response, his lips pressed right against Marco, and when he curls his finger toward Marco’s stomach and licks back into him, Marco shivers out a loud, overwhelmed moan and falls forward, catching himself on his hand before he knocks any of them over.

“F-fuck, Jean, please,” he pleads breathlessly, his trembling hips rocking between Jean’s and Eren’s attention. “E-Eren, Eren, I-I—”

Eren has mercy first, tempted to action by how undone Marco sounds. He sucks him deep and swallows hard around him, earning himself a sweet, noisy moan, before he pulls off slowly and slides out from under him. He crawls closer to Marco and lets him slump against him, nuzzling into his ear as Marco all but melts onto him with a hitched whine, trusting him with his boneless weight. Based on the way Marco’s still squirming, even when he’s clinging to Eren and burying his face in his neck, Jean’s only growing more and more merciless with him. Marco’s flushed all over, shaking and whimpering and near desperate for affection, his back arched so beautifully it has Eren’s mouth watering as he slides his hands along Marco’s sweat-slick skin.

Leaning back enough to nudge Marco’s head up again, Eren buries his hand in soft, dark hair and pulls his dazed boyfriend into a sloppy, eager kiss, more than happy to drink in the pretty noises Marco breathes into him. Marco clings to him gladly, sliding his arms over Eren’s shoulders and letting him hold him steady as his hips rock back into Jean’s attention, trembling and twitching with every wet sound from Jean’s tongue flicking into him.

Jean reaches up with his free hand and taps Eren’s hip then, urging him to the side, so Eren climbs off him and blinks down, licking his lips at the wet, dripping mess Marco’s cock is leaving on Jean’s chest. Jean presses his lips against Marco again, giving him another slow, noisy kiss before he pulls his fingers out and wriggles out from under him, quickly wiping his chin on his arm as he sits up and turns to them. Marco whimpers for the loss, but collapses gratefully onto the pillows that had been supporting Jean’s head, his shaking thighs clearly on the verge of giving out anyway.

While Jean’s patting around the mussed sheets for the lube, Marco pulls Eren against him again and leans up for more kisses. Eren wraps his arms around his waist and obliges him, affectionately soothing his knuckles up and down Marco’s spine, and when Marco shifts forward enough to rub his soaked cock against Eren’s thigh, Eren groans low in his throat and tugs him closer by his hips. He lets Marco basically straddle his thigh and grind against him, panting into their lazy kiss as his hands wind through Eren’s mussed hair and tug gently.

“Here, Marco,” Jean murmurs after a long, indulgent moment of staring at them, rubbing his hand gently along Marco’s side and squeezing. Marco blinks over at him, licking his bitten lips before he leans over and brushes them against Jean’s, moaning softly when Jean leans into him and slips his tongue between his lips. Before either of them can get too distracted, though, Jean pulls back and nudges his nose against Marco’s, then grins over at Eren as he asks, “Is it my turn to watch Eren come inside you?”

Eren bites his lip and moans softly at that, his cock already giving an interested twitch, and Marco rocks his hips against Eren’s thigh with a shivering gasp, clearly on board with the idea. He sucks on his lips and glances hopefully at Eren, who smiles crookedly and leans up for another brief kiss before murmuring, “That what you want, sweetheart?”

“God, yes,” Marco sighs, his fingers tightening in Eren’s hair. “Y-yes, please...”

“’Course, love.” Eren grins into another kiss, absolutely enraptured by how cute Marco is right now, before he scoots back and pushes Marco backward until he can reach down and tug his legs out from under him.

Marco works with him as best he can until Eren just hooks his hands under his knees and pulls, leaving Marco spread out across the sheets and whimpering for him, essentially reduced to a jelly by Eren’s easy manhandling. His cock twitches against his stomach as he cants his hips up against nothing, biting his lip around a quiet whine.

Humming warmly at the sight of their boyfriend all but squirming with arousal, Jean runs his hand slowly up the inside of Marco’s thigh, drawing his thumb up the soft join and coaxing him into spreading them a little wider. He licks his lips, then turns to Eren and tosses him the lube with a playful grin. He sprawls out next to Marco then and lets himself be pulled into a sweet, messy kiss, melting against his side and dragging his palm across Marco’s flushed chest.

Eren slicks his fingers quickly, then straddles Marco’s thigh and ducks to mouth up his stomach as he reaches down and rubs his fingers against Marco’s entrance. He’s still wet, still loose from Jean licking him open, so Eren has no trouble slipping one finger, then two inside of him and thrusting them deep. Marco trembles for him and gasps against Jean’s lips, arching onto Eren’s fingers, up into the hot kisses trailing up his ribs, toward his chest.

As he thrusts his fingers steadily, spreading them and curling them just the way he knows Marco likes, Eren sucks one of Marco’s nipples between his lips and worries it gently between his teeth. Marco whimpers his name and shivers under him, squeezing around his fingers, his own arms wrapped around Jean’s shoulders to keep him close.

“So pretty like this, Marco,” Jean murmurs against Marco’s ear, sliding his palm down his stomach, until he can wrap his fingers loosely around his aching cock. Marco arches into the touch and leans his head back, so Jean mouths down his throat and gives him a slow, easy stroke, then groans, “’S not just you that likes watching, babe... I can’t wait for Eren to make a mess of you.”

Eren and Marco both moan at that, Eren burying his fingers deep, panting against Marco’s chest. Marco whines and spreads his thighs further, his eyes fluttering closed as he shifts to drag one hand through Eren’s hair. “P-please, Eren,” he gasps, but before he can continue his plea, Jean sinks his teeth into the crook of his neck as his thumb dips beneath his slick foreskin and rubs across the head of his cock. Marco’s hips snap up at that, his thighs shaking and his head thrown back, a broken, desperate moan shivering from his lips.

Unable to help himself, Eren leans up so he can take in the way his boyfriends look under him. Marco looks so disheveled, so undone spread out across their sheets in the early afternoon sunlight, his hair going in every direction, and Eren’s suddenly reminded of the way Marco looked the very first time they did this.

“Fuck, Marco,” he mumbles, slowly dragging his free hand down his boyfriend’s chest, along his side. “You’re so gorgeous, love...”

Marco tightens around his fingers at the praise, his hips rocking up into Jean’s fist before he blinks up at Eren again and bites his lip, one shaking hand coming up to cup Eren’s jaw. Eren lets himself be pulled down into a sweet, messy kiss, humming against Marco’s lips. He spreads his fingers inside him again, then gently works a third into him, eating up the way Marco shivers and gasps against him.

Eren hadn’t even realized how hard he is until Jean slips his hand away from Marco’s cock and wraps it around Eren’s instead, giving him a quick, teasing stroke and humming at the slick precome already dripping from the tip. He laves his tongue over the small, dark hickey he’d been sucking into Marco’s collarbone and rolls to grin up at Eren, twisting his wrist around the head just for the way it has Eren shivering and arching into his grip. That catches Marco’s attention, and he glances down between them and groans, entranced by the way Eren’s flushed cock looks slipping through Jean’s grip.

“E-Eren, c’mon,” he gasps, squeezing pointedly around Eren’s fingers. “’M ready, I want you, please?”

As much as he wants to, Eren can’t even tease Marco about asking nicely, not when his best response is a quiet whine. Instead, he nods and ducks to kiss him again, gently easing his fingers out of him and moving closer.

“Mm, hang on,” Jean sighs, sitting up again. Eren blinks up at him, tilting his head in question, then leans back slightly when his boyfriend gestures. Jean slides his hand under Marco’s shoulder, guiding him away from the sheets enough that he can slide in behind him before tugging him back against his chest with a content hum.

From this angle, he can reach both of his boyfriends if he wants to, and the view is spectacular. He’s not even worried about his own hard cock pressed against his stomach, not at the moment. More important is how easy it is for him to murmur sweet love and filthy praise right into Marco’s ear, how he can run his hands over whatever parts of him he wants, how good Eren looks kneeling patiently between their boyfriend’s spread thighs... he grins up at Eren and reaches up to caress his flushed cheek, earning himself a flustered, crooked smile.

Eren nips teasingly at the pad of Jean’s thumb, then turns his attention back to Marco, leaning down to nudge their noses together. He makes quick work of finding the lube and spreading more over his aching arousal, focusing less on the pressure of his fist and more on how eager Marco looks for him.

“You ready for me, love?” he asks softly, his voice raspy with want in a way that has Marco shivering and nodding.

Marco bites his lip and glances between them again, then reaches down and pushes Eren’s hand off his cock so he can touch him instead. Eren sighs and rests his hands on Marco’s thighs, nuzzling into his boyfriend’s mussed bangs with a low, rumbling hum. He sits up straight when he feels Marco squirm toward him, then watches breathlessly as Marco rubs his cock against his slick entrance.

“C’mon,” Marco murmurs, licking his pretty lips. “Wanna feel you.”

Eren swallows heavily and nods, carefully pressing against him. Just like with Jean, Eren seriously doubts that he’s going to be able to keep it together when he’s inside Marco, not with how long and how badly he’s wanted this. It’s okay, though. Marco trusts him with this, and that’s more than enough for Eren.

Leaning over his boyfriends on his hands, Eren rests his forehead against Marco’s and slowly, gently rolls his hips forward, letting Marco guide him home. They both moan breathlessly as Eren slides inside Marco’s tight, wet heat, his hands fisting in the sheets on either side of him in an attempt to ground himself.

As he bottoms out, Eren shivers out a gasping moan of his boyfriend’s name, his shoulders already shaking with how good Marco feels.

He’s just as good as Jean, just as perfect, but just different enough that Eren could never hope to be prepared. Marco’s hotter, softer, more pliant around him, and when Eren gasps and presses closer, deeper, Marco lets his head drop back against Jean’s shoulder with a low sigh and absolutely melts for him. His hands curl loosely on Eren’s back, holding him safe in his arms, letting him take his time pretending that he could ever get used to this mind-blowing feeling.

Jean hums quietly as he watches, pressing soft kisses into Marco’s hopelessly mussed hair. “Here, babe,” he murmurs, his hands gently pulling on Marco’s knees, “Wrap your thighs around him—” Marco does, biting his lip at the way Eren’s cock twitches inside him, at the way Eren gasps at the feeling. “Yeah, that’s perfect, fuck.” Shivering out a low moan, Jean slides his arms around Marco’s waist and clings to him, rocking his hips helplessly against the small of his boyfriend’s back.

“Eren,” Marco breathes, brainlessly nudging his nose against Eren’s, “’M good, you can move, yeah?”

Surprisingly, Eren wheezes out a raspy chuckle and nuzzles him back, then weakly replies, “N-no I can’t.”

Marco blinks up at him, his hands gently, soothingly running up and down Eren’s sides, before he takes in the way his boyfriend’s shaking all over, the way his teeth catch his flushed lip, the way his hips are still pressed so firmly against Marco’s ass.

Oh.

He grins widely and buries one hand in Eren’s hair, then cautiously rolls his hips, just to see what happens.

Eren squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers, leaning harder against Marco, either searching for his comfort or trying to keep him still. He breathes a quiet, stuttering curse, then dips to bury his face in Marco’s neck, entirely unable to hide how very affected he is.

Given the way Eren’s trembling, Marco’s fully prepared to just hold onto him until he’s ready, to comb his fingers through sweat-damp hair until his boyfriend calms down enough to move. He’s waited this long; waiting a few extra minutes for Eren to get himself together won’t hurt, not even with how nice he feels inside him.

Once again, Eren surprises him.

With a deep, wavering breath, Eren presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to Marco’s pulse, then slowly eases his hips back. He doesn’t pull out far before he’s thrusting back into his boyfriend, grinding deep and moaning raggedly at the way Marco squeezes around him. Marco shivers and wraps his thighs tighter around Eren’s waist, his eyelids shuttering closed, letting himself get a little lost in Eren’s overwhelmed affection.

Eren keeps up like this, his pace more slow, grinding rolls of his hips than anything else, muffling his ragged, breathless moans in the crook of Marco’s neck. He’s trying so hard to savor this, to keep himself in check long enough to let Marco enjoy himself, but god it’s so hard when Marco’s so soft, so hot around him, so much better than Eren could have ever imagined. Jean’s not helping much either, with the way he keeps humming appreciatively, with how his hands feel wandering from Marco’s skin to Eren’s as he pleases, unhurriedly petting them both as they move together.

Admittedly, it’s been a while since Eren’s had Marco under him like this. It’s been a while since he’s gotten to hear these shaky sighs, these sweet moans pressed against his ear, since he’s gotten to feel the way Marco’s hips rock up for more of him. Even so, he remembers perfectly how Marco likes to be held, how he likes to be touched, so Eren takes a deep breath and hopes to god that he can keep his cool.

With a low hum, Eren pulls back from Marco’s shoulder and leans up to kiss him instead, slipping his tongue between Marco’s flushed lips as he presses deeper, rocks his hips a little more firmly.

Marco moans into him and drags his palms down Eren’s back, tilting his head to fit them together that much better. He curves his hands firmly around Eren’s ass and pulls him close, both of them groaning at the feeling. Eren nibbles at his lips in playful retaliation, his own curved in a lazy, gorgeous smile, before he rests their foreheads together and sighs, “F-feels so good, sweetheart...” Marco nods dreamily, then catches Eren’s lips again, his eyes sliding blissfully closed.

When Eren pulls away and sits up, Marco gives a soft, protesting whine, his hands already reaching out to pull Eren close again. Jean, however, has a keen sense for when his boyfriend’s of a mind to make some trouble, so he chuckles warmly against Marco’s ear and reaches out for his hands. Twining their fingers gently, he pulls Marco’s hands back and brushes his lips over his knuckles, placating him with loving whispers while Eren gets himself situated.

Spreading his knees further, Eren licks his lips and wraps his hands under Marco’s thighs, pulling him just a little further into his lap, onto his cock. Marco moans and arches at the feeling, then blinks blearily up at Eren, and the flustered grin on his boyfriend’s face has heat coiling tight between Marco’s hips.

Eren bites his lip and exhales shakily before he starts rocking his hips again, the same deep, grinding pace as before, but now that he’s sitting up, now that he has Marco bent back further, the head of his achingly hard cock drags perfectly past Marco’s sweet spot with every firm roll of his hips. That feeling alone is enough to have Marco trembling and panting, but with nothing between them now, the slick drag of skin on skin makes everything so much more intense.

“Oh god, Eren,” Marco gasps, his hands squeezing Jean’s tight. “E-Eren—”

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” Jean rumbles against Marco’s ear. “Fuck, I didn’t think he could drive me any crazier, this is just unfair...” As Marco’s nodding dazedly, Jean flicks his dark eyes up to Eren’s, licking his lips at how flushed, how undone he looks already, barely managing to keep his steady rhythm thrusting into Marco. Bringing one of Marco’s hands to his lips again, Jean holds Eren’s gaze as he drags slow kisses along his knuckles again, down along one of his trembling fingers, before he lets go and slides his palm down Marco’s soft stomach.

When Jean wraps his hand around Marco’s dripping cock and sets to stroking him slowly, evenly, Marco whimpers breathlessly, then reaches back and threads his fingers into Jean’s hair, gripping tight enough to draw a ragged, growling moan out of him.

As if the sight alone wasn’t enough to blow Eren’s mind, Marco starts rocking his hips and squeezing around him, leaving Eren gasping and curling forward over him, his hips snapping into him hard enough to have them both seeing stars.

The feeling is almost, almost enough to make Eren lose it. This isn’t just about him, though. As much as Jean and Marco are giving him, focusing on him, letting him indulge in them, this is about their pleasure too. Somehow, they’ve wanted this just as much as he has, and now that it’s finally happening, Eren’s not about to let something like a lack of self control keep him from pleasing his lovers.

His grip on Marco’s hips tightens as he sits up again, tongue poking out in concentration, and when he starts moving again, it’s with renewed determination.

He rolls his hips firmly into Marco, grinding deep with every thrust, moving in a way he knows drives his boyfriend crazy, and already he can feel the effect he’s having. Marco moans for him, soft and unrestrained, his thighs trembling around Eren’s hips, squirming as much as he can between Eren’s and Jean’s grips on him. Jean hums in his ear, slowing the pace of his hand on Marco’s cock to that of Eren’s hips, twisting his wrist loosely around the head just to tease.

“F-fuck, Eren,” Marco gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as a thrill runs through his body, pleasure chasing pleasure all through him with every thrust, every stroke. He’s getting needy, though, impatient as he always is when he’s the sole focus of his boyfriends’ attention.

Luckily for him, Eren and Jean both know him well enough to know what he needs and just how to give it to him.

Before Marco can even think to start pleading, Eren hums and licks his lips, then speeds his thrusts, bracing his knees against the bed for leverage as he pulls Marco harder into his lap with every thrust. It feels insane, of course it does, but all Eren can think about is taking Marco even higher.

“Y-you feel so good, Marco,” he rumbles, biting his lip around a low groan. Marco blinks up at him, his eyes hazy with pleasure, flushed lips parted around panting breaths, and that expression just makes Eren want to give him everything. “So amazing, sweetheart, I love the way you squeeze around me...”

In response, Marco lets his eyes shutter closed again as he breathes out a trembling whine, his hands tightening in Jean’s hair, around his fingers. Jean hums warmly, then ducks to drag his lips up the curve of Marco’s neck, pressing hot, wet kisses to sensitive skin. He keeps an eye on Eren, though, both so he can match the pace of his thrusts with his hand and because watching Eren’s hips move between Marco’s shaking thighs is an incredibly tempting sight.

Eren grins crookedly and lifts one hand to gently caress Marco’s darkly flushed cheek, his thumb dragging over his lips, before he murmurs, “God, I could come just like this...” Marco whines and nods, his brow furrowed with pleasure, but before he can say anything, Eren continues, “B-but Jean and I are gonna make you come first.” Pausing with a breathy groan, Eren leans closer, fucking deeper into Marco, and he knows even before Marco gasps his name that he’s hitting him just right. “Wanna feel you c-come around me, Marco, wanna make you feel so good, make such a pretty m-mess of you, yeah?”

Jean grins up at Eren then, pausing his strokes to play with Marco’s slick foreskin, his fingers slipping easily through their boyfriend’s dripping precome. Marco squirms and cants his hips at the feeling, his breathless moans coming faster, louder, perfectly unhindered, already starting to come apart the way he always does when Eren and Jean lavish him in attention.

Never one to miss an opportunity to drive Marco crazy, Jean leans into his ear and nibbles on his earlobe, tongue laving over sensitive flesh before he whispers, “He’s not gonna last once you come on his cock, baby... you’re still gonna be crying out for him when he loses his cool and starts fucking his come into you.” Jean hums as Marco arches tight between them, his hips bucking back onto his boyfriend’s cock just as Eren moans for them and thrusts hard into Marco, both of them so affected by Jean’s words that they’re briefly rendered helpless.

Eren barely remembers to breathe as he picks up the pace, pounding into Marco and gasping his name with every thrust. Marco’s pretty moans, already loud and pleading, echo around them as he rocks his hips as best he can with Eren’s hands holding onto him, his own hands flying to Eren’s shoulders just for something to hold onto.

Undeterred, encouraged even, Jean purrs into Marco’s ear and resumes stroking him tightly, absolutely reveling in the sloppy, wet sounds of Marco’s precome slicking his movements. He’s not done yet, though, not with the rush his words bring him when they pull such gorgeous reactions out of his boyfriends.

“He feels so good, love,” Jean hums, his free hand resting lightly on Eren’s wrist, content just with the contact. “You’re gonna love the way he feels when he’s coming inside you, I know it. You wanna make him come, baby?”

Marco nods frantically, his nails dragging faint red lines down Eren’s shoulders, which earns him a stuttering curse and a rough, uneven buck of his hips, and the feeling has him gasping and trembling. He opens his mouth again to beg for more, but before he finds his voice, Eren beats him to it.

Leaning close enough to rest his forehead against Marco’s again, Eren shivers out a long, desperate groan, then gasps, “P-please, baby, please—I w-wanna feel you, wanna feel you come for me, please?”

Marco whimpers and throws his head back against Jean’s shoulder, his body tightening, tensing, so close he can barely take it. Eren’s just barely hanging on, moaning so sweetly for him, begging him to come, and the knowledge that he’s the one drawing such a perfect reaction out of him has Marco absolutely losing his mind.

He yanks one hand between them and grabs Jean’s wrist, holding him still so he can fuck up into his grip, and as he does he wails for them, shaking and squirming and tensing so perfectly for them. He hears Jean moan raggedly as he spills up his chest, his come hot and wet on Jean’s fingers, in spurts on his own stomach, but Marco can’t even begin to focus on that when Eren buries his face in his throat and whines for him.

It’s exactly as Jean had promised; Marco’s still in space, still crying his pleasure into the humid air around them when Eren comes, and the way he curses and pleads and moans into the sweat-slick crook of Marco’s neck as he comes inside him sends Marco impossibly higher.

He’d watched Eren so closely when he came inside Jean, memorizing every perfect detail, but feeling it himself is so, so much better. He can feel Eren slipping wetly inside him, his rhythm falling apart in his pleasure, trying so hard to get deeper, closer, and god, Marco’s so in love with the feeling that he doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He settles on holding Eren tight against him, wrapping around his shaking body, and letting himself melt into Eren’s frantic attention, moaning encouragingly when Eren clings to him just as tight.

This time, Eren’s hips stutter to a stop before he pushes Marco too far, and Marco almost wants to protest. He almost wants to see how far he can be pushed, how far Eren can take him, but the shivery quality of Eren’s moans muffled against his throat and the exhaustion already apparent in the way his boyfriend trembles stays Marco’s hand.

Instead, he gathers Eren closer and nuzzles into his mussed hair, pressing brainless kisses wherever he can reach as his hands soothe over the light scratches now marking Eren’s shoulders.

Behind him, Jean hums appreciatively, but rather than stay where he is, he slides out from under Marco and kneels beside them, already reaching for the tissues on the bedside table to clean Marco’s come off his hand. He’s still hard, his pierced cock flushed and wet, but he seems less concerned with that and more concerned with taking care of his boyfriends.

With Marco splayed flat under him, Eren takes a deep, shaky breath and leans up on his hands. Before he can go anywhere, however, Marco presses his hands to Eren’s flushed cheeks and pulls him back down into a lazy, messy kiss, and when Eren moans and sinks into him, Marco hums happily and holds him close.

Eren would stay here longer, but he’s insanely sensitive after two rounds of this, and Jean’s renewed arousal hadn’t escaped his notice. He pulls back from Marco’s lips with a few light, parting kisses, then sits up and looks down between them, and once again, the sight of his bare cock buried so deep inside his boyfriend has him biting his lip and groaning.

Grinning widely, Jean slinks up behind him and loops his arms around Eren’s waist, his fingers toying with the thick, dark curls trailing down Eren’s stomach. “Go on, baby,” Jean sighs warmly, nuzzling behind his ear. “Let’s see what a mess you made of him, hmm?”

“F-fuck, Jean,” Eren gasps. He leans into Jean’s affection and shivers, indulging for a long moment before he rests his hands on Marco’s hips again, then delicately pulls out of him.

The feeling is almost too intense this time after so much pleasure, but the way Marco licks his lips and hums more than makes up for it. The slow drip of Eren’s come has both Eren and Jean moaning, and almost without noticing, Jean’s hips rock into Eren’s, his cock aching to be touched. He reaches out and drags his fingers through the mess of come smeared across Marco’s stomach, down past his softening cock, tracing along the inside of his thigh until he can drag his thumb through Eren’s come.

Jean’s teeth find his lip as he slowly, gently fingers Eren’s come back into Marco, his hips still grinding almost desperately against the small of his boyfriend’s back. Eren would comment on that, or maybe turn around and help him out, but he’s so engrossed with the sight of Jean’s shaking fingers sinking into Marco and the way Marco arches his hips up with a ragged moan that he almost forgets to even breathe.

“O-okay, okay,” Jean wheezes after a long moment, untangling himself from Eren. Eren manages to turn to him, but before he can offer any help, Jean’s firmly guiding him out from between Marco’s thighs. He collapses gratefully beside Marco, letting himself be gathered back into his boyfriend’s arms while Jean scoots forward and takes his place.

“You okay there, love?” Marco asks, his voice warm with soft, teasing laughter. He only seems to grow more amused when all Jean has for him is an brainless grumble. With Eren held safely against him, Marco licks his lips and slings his thighs over Jean’s hips, scooting closer and earning himself a flustered moan.

Jean glances up at them, breathing a shaky sigh at how beautiful they look together, mussed and sweaty and sated. “I-I’m just gonna—I’ll be quick.”

Marco quirks an eyebrow at him, but the way his smile widens only encourages Jean. Nodding to himself, Jean licks his lips and lowers his gaze again, and when he wraps a hand around his cock, a thrill of arousal sparks down his spine and leaves him trembling.

He could fuck Marco like this, probably. Marco would let him. He’s already so close, though, so wound up from watching them together that even the thought is almost too much to bear. Instead, he strokes himself slow and tight, his free hand resting on Marco’s thigh, and he thinks about how perfect Eren had looked buried inside him, and it only takes a few long strokes before Jean’s curling over Marco and whimpering, his come making an even bigger mess of his boyfriend as it drips in hot spurts over Marco’s soft cock, between his thighs, dribbling down onto the sheets beneath them.

Eren groans at the sight, his own cock twitching interestedly. He shakes his head to clear it, though, not giving himself any room to even consider going again. Not just yet, anyway.

As Jean collapses on Marco’s other side, slinging his arm bonelessly over his boyfriend’s stomach, Marco wrinkles his nose and laughs, lifting his hips slightly. “You’re so messy, Jean,” he teases, turning to look at him. Jean just groans and nods, nuzzling his face into Marco’s shoulder.

They lay like this for a moment longer, Marco contently indulging in the affection Eren’s lavishing upon him, but before any of them can get too comfortable, Eren sits up and runs a hand through his badly-tangled hair.

“I-I’m gonna, um. Start the shower.” He glances down at Marco, flushing slightly, before he turns and starts to get up. He pauses, though, then peers back at them, looking incredibly flustered. Marco reaches for him, already starting to ask if everything is okay, but Eren turns to face them again and blurts, “I-I, um. I really, really, really liked this. If you couldn’t tell.”

Jean blinks up at him from around Marco’s shoulder, one thin eyebrow raised. Eren’s fidgeting beside them, but he doesn’t look upset or anything. Just... well, flustered. Jean wants to tease him so badly, but he exercises restraint for once and just hums, “I did too, babe.”

“Mm, me too,” Marco sighs. He smiles and reaches out to tug Eren close again, all but purring when Eren leans over him and kisses him slowly, sweetly, his nervous gratitude more and more apparent.

“I just, uh,” Eren starts, nervously chewing on his lip. Jean leans up on his elbow, then tugs Eren close enough for him to kiss too, gently sucking Eren’s bitten lip between his and soothing the tip of his tongue over it. Eren sighs slowly and melts into him, soothed yet further by the way Jean gently runs his clean fingers through Eren’s hair.

Once Jean’s seen fit to let him go again, Eren has to take a minute to remember what he wanted to say. “I don’t know if it’s, like, weird of me to thank you for this, but, uh. T-thank you. Both.”

Marco and Jean blink up at Eren, watching him squirm, before Jean flops back into Marco’s shoulder with a wide grin. Knowing already that Jean’s going to tease Eren, Marco cuts him off before he can start by pulling Eren into another gentle kiss, unable to keep himself from smiling. “Thank you, Eren. You were wonderful to us, not that I expected any less.”

Eren swallows at that, blushing impossibly darker. “O-okay.” He sits up again, indulgently taking in the way they look wound together, all lazy and sated, before he remembers why he’d gotten up to begin with. “Okay, yeah, shower. Right.”

They let him scuttle away into the bathroom, his shyness palpable even from the short distance, and Jean somehow finds it in himself to only tease Eren a little bit.

Once they’ve cleaned up and stripped the thoroughly debauched sheets off the bed, Marco drags both of his boyfriends into a solid cuddle pile, and Eren lets himself be squished between them with only a minimal amount of blushing and wheezing. Surprisingly, Jean’s the first one to pull Eren into a slow, loving kiss, his hands warm on Eren’s flushed cheeks, and when he breathes sweet affirmations of love between the parting of their lips, Eren lets himself be showered in affection, returning them breathlessly wherever he can.

They pass the evening wound around each other, each of Eren’s hands held in one of theirs, Jean’s and Marco’s free hands laced comfortably together, and for once, Eren lets himself bask in the love and trust they so freely give him, content to simply exist held tight between the two of them.

Chapter Text

At some point in Marco’s life, waking up at ten am became ‘sleeping in.’ He’s not entirely sure when that happened, and sometimes he’s still somewhat disgruntled by it, but he takes it in stride as best he can.

Even though his Thursday classes don’t start until late afternoon this semester, Marco still finds himself rolling out of bed looking for something to work on early in the morning every week. Jean’s usually gone by then, because his Thursdays are significantly less forgiving, but sometimes Eren’s still curled up in bed with him when he wakes up, so it’s not all bad.

This morning, Marco finds himself squinting against the weak morning sunlight even before his alarm goes off. It’s cooler than usual, but Marco can’t even really tell with the way he’s wrapped around Eren’s toasty, naked body. Not quite willing to give this up just yet, Marco just grumbles and slinks further into the blankets, nudging his nose into Eren’s soft, messy hair.

Eren, as usual, is dead asleep, and even Marco adjusting his arms around him and pulling him closer doesn’t wake him. His breathing is still slow and even, not even a hitch as Marco unabashedly snuggles him.

Marco lets himself enjoy his warm, sleepy boyfriend for a while, brushing light, lazy kisses along the nape of his neck, but the urge to get up and do something eventually starts nagging at him a little harder than he can ignore. He shifts under the blankets and leans up to press one last warm, lingering kiss against Eren’s cheek, before sliding out of bed with a groan and no small amount of dismay.

Behind him, Eren rolls over into his warm spot with a huff, clearly not awake as he drags Marco’s abandoned pillow down enough to bury his face in. Marco laughs softly, brushing some of Eren’s shaggy hair behind his ear, then gets up and scoots into the bathroom. He lets himself take his time showering, making up for the slight chill of their apartment by running the water a little too hot for a little too long.

Eren’s not in bed anymore by the time he finally comes out. Hoping he didn’t wake his boyfriend up before he was ready, Marco lazily towels himself off and pulls on a pair of loose sweatpants, then goes to check his phone on the nightstand.

As he’s squinting at his screen in confusion, Marco wanders out into the living room and asks, “Any idea why Jean just sent me a text that says ‘good fucking luck’?”

Marco blinks up at Eren, then feels his brain stall out somewhat.

Eren’s sprawled across the couch with his phone, giving Marco a face that’s somewhere between flustered and disgruntled, his hair still messy from sleep. More importantly, though, he’s wearing Marco’s old Junkyard Skunk Mob shirt from high school, and it’s enormous on him, enough so that it hangs off of one of his bony, tattooed shoulders. That shirt, paired with the teeny boxers he’s wearing, are enough to leave Marco speechless, and Jean’s text suddenly makes a little more sense.

“He’s such a fucking spoilsport,” Eren grumbles, his ears flushing ever darker as he rolls onto his side, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. He crosses his arms stiffly, refusing to look over at his boyfriend again, his shyness clearly getting the better of him.

Eren knows exactly what wearing Marco’s clothes does to him. He hasn’t stolen Marco’s clothes for some time, with how hot the summer was, but as the weather gets cooler, he ends up in his boyfriend’s clothes more frequently. It isn’t even usually a bid for his attention, and he always seems so surprised when it works out that way, but Marco can’t resist how cute Eren looks dwarfed by his sweaters.

This time, based on how quickly Eren’s curling into an embarrassed ball, it seems to be a very pointed request for Marco’s attention, and he’s not about to let that go unrewarded.

Shaking himself out of his thirsty reverie, Marco drops his phone into his pocket and moves over to him, kneeling on the couch and gently coaxing him into rolling onto his back again. Eren doesn’t uncross his arms, though, and doesn’t look up at him, looking more and more flustered by the second, so Marco leans over him on one hand, the other coming to gently cradle Eren’s jaw.

“Eren,” Marco hums, leaning down to nudge their noses together. He presses a few gentle, encouraging kisses to his boyfriend’s flushed cheek, and as Eren relaxes somewhat under him, he eases him into a proper kiss, sighing quietly against his soft lips.

After a few lazy kisses, Eren swallows and uncrosses his arms, moving one hand to Marco’s wrist as if bracing himself. “I didn’t, um,” he starts shakily, “I know you don’t teach until later, but. I-I didn’t know if you had anything important you needed to be doing—”

“Nothing more important than this,” Marco says, firmly reassuring him. Eren lets out an embarrassed wheeze, but he doesn’t argue, which just makes Marco that much happier. He probably has stuff he should be doing, but he and Jean have been trying to get Eren to let them know when he wants their attention for so long, so such a clear, beautiful plea for affection takes precedence over pretty much anything else Marco could think of doing.

Shifting so that he’s resting more comfortably over Eren, Marco slides one of his thighs between his boyfriend’s and leans down to kiss him again. He tilts his head and presses their lips together slowly, lovingly, happily drinking in the stuttered sigh Eren breathes into him. As he slips his tongue between Eren’s soft lips, Eren drapes his arms over Marco’s shoulders, wrapping them around him and pulling him closer.

By now, Marco knows a million ways to get Eren riled up, and he’s more than happy to make good use of this knowledge. He curls his tongue against Eren’s languidly, satisfied by the hitch in his boyfriend’s breath, and slides one hand down to drag along the bare length of Eren’s thigh, his touch indulgent and appreciative.

As they kiss, Eren all but melts under Marco, his craving for affection growing more and more obvious in how easily he opens up for him. Marco’s eager to satisfy that craving, though, nibbling gently at Eren’s lips and letting his boyfriend hold him close, his thigh pressing teasingly between Eren’s. He leans down and drags more hot, wet kisses up the side of Eren’s throat, humming roughly against sensitive skin when Eren shivers and tilts his head back for him, his short nails dragging along Marco’s shoulders.

“So,” Marco murmurs against Eren’s pulse, “You were texting Jean about stealing my clothes?”

Eren grumbles, shifting shyly under him, then huffs, “Had to ask him s-something.” Marco hums curiously, but Eren doesn’t clarify, choosing instead to arch up against him, rubbing his growing arousal against Marco’s hip.

Rather than press him for more right now, Marco lets it drop, leaning up to catch Eren’s lips in a deep, soothing kiss as he drags his palm higher up Eren’s thigh. He slides his hand under his boyfriend, grabbing a firm handful of his ass and pulling him closer, grinning crookedly at the way Eren’s lips part around a soft, stuttered gasp. Unable to help himself, he rocks his hips down against Eren’s, showing him just how affected he is by how cute Eren looks like this.

Eren threads his fingers into Marco’s hair and tugs him into another kiss, this one hotter, more insistent. Groaning quietly, Marco leans into him, then lets his hand slide away from Eren’s ass, around to where he’s half hard in his tiny shorts.

He’s intimately familiar with how Eren feels with fabric stretching over him, growing tighter as he gets harder. Putting his hands all over Eren is one of his favorite things to do, after all, especially when he gets him all worked up before he’s even taken all his clothes off. Eren just looks so good all worked up from Marco feeling him up, his clothes in disarray, face flushed, his arousal straining against his pants or his boxers or whatever else.

This time, though, something feels... different. He can’t quite put his finger on what. As he curves his palm over Eren’s cock, Marco hums pensively, his thumb tracing along some kind of subtle pattern.

“I-I, um,” Eren wheezes, his hands squeezing Marco’s shoulders tightly. “I didn’t want to, like, p-pressure you too much if you had work to do. You saying no isn’t—it isn’t ever a problem for me.” Marco leans up on his other elbow, blinking down at Eren, who appears to be record levels of flustered. If he’d planned on explaining any further, the words seem to die before they make it out of him, his lips pressed together in a thin, frustrated line.

Before Marco can ask if he’s okay, before he can put the brakes on things to reassure him, Eren huffs and wriggles under him, reaching down to peel his shorts down off his hips.

Marco glances down, then loses all brain function for a long moment.

Eren is wearing Jean’s panties. The black ones, specifically. The sheer lace is stretched beautifully over his arousal, precome already leaving a slick spot at the head.

Jean’s text makes complete sense now.

All of the blood in Marco’s body rushes straight to his dick, leaving him light-headed, staring helplessly between them.

“I, um, I hope it’s okay,” Eren stutters, his hands fisting in his shorts, holding onto them rather than pushing them all the way down. He’s squirming slightly under Marco’s silent gaze, but Marco can’t even really remember how to breathe, let alone form the words to respond just yet. “I-I know it’s usually—these’re Jean’s, but he, uh. T-told me I should wear them.”

Marco knows if he doesn’t show some sign of life soon, Eren’s gonna curl up into a little ball and try to run away. Words are so hard right now, though, and pretty much all of Marco’s energy is going into keeping himself under control. This is new territory for Eren. Reassurance and encouragement first, ravishing his brains out after.

Swallowing heavily, Marco nods, then forces himself to look up at Eren’s face. “It’s... m-more than okay,” he manages, his voice rough with arousal. Eren shivers and licks his lips, but he relaxes slightly, fingers still fiddling with the hem of his shorts.

With some of the tension leaving Eren’s body, Marco loses some of his grip on his control, leaning down and pulling Eren into a deep, filthy kiss, unable to keep himself from touching his boyfriend any longer. Luckily, Eren seems fine with it, based on the way he sighs and arches up against him, his hands coming up to Marco’s jaw, holding him close.

As he’s fucking his tongue into Eren’s mouth, pulling sweet little noises out of him, Marco reaches down and grabs Eren’s thigh again, tugging it up against his waist to tilt Eren’s hips up into his. The angle makes it so easy to grind down against him, letting him feel how insanely hard he is in his sweatpants. Eren moans appreciatively, his teeth catching Marco’s lower lip, before he slides one hand down Marco’s chest, dragging his nails down his soft stomach until he reaches the hem of Marco’s pants.

When he wraps his hand around Marco’s arousal over the straining fabric, squeezing appreciatively, Marco has to take a moment to focus so he doesn’t just fucking come in his pants. He leans down to sink his teeth into the bared curve of Eren’s shoulder, earning himself a soft whine, before he reaches down and grabs Eren’s hand.

Before Eren can ask, Marco laces their fingers and squeezes reassuringly, then nuzzles against his ear, nipping playfully at his earlobe. “Let’s go back to the bed,” he whispers raggedly, groaning at the way his boyfriend shivers and rocks his hips up at the sound. “F-fuck, Eren, want you so bad...”

Eren huffs a shaky laugh, then nods, guiding Marco back into a brief, sloppy kiss before pushing gently at his shoulder.