Chapter Text
JEAN
He cast one last look at his friends in the mess hall before he rounded the corner. Focusing nervous eyes ahead, the broad expanse of Mike’s back greeted him, and Jean swallowed thickly.
God… He thought, watching the rise and fall of Mike’s heavy shoulders. The man even breathed sexy…
Jean had been trying to force himself to stop noticing every minute detail of the warrior before him, but it was difficult. Everytime he deliberately pulled his attention away from the blonde, his plan backfired. The action sounded an alarm in his subconscious that howled for him to turn back, screamed that there was something he needed— something he craved— just outside his periphery. Those times always ended with him saying or doing something totally idiotic, like a love sick teen unable to control himself.
Embarrassing…
He wished he had more finesse than this when it came to existing around a person he desired, but the truth was, Jean had never been comfortable enough with himself to make his interest in another man known with confidence. He’d had some trysts and shared some moments over the years, but nothing lasting. Nothing real, and the end of the world hadn’t helped matters any. Less than a year ago he’d have thought twice about approaching a man he wanted. He had to be careful about these things, after all, but now? With very little experience beyond drunken attempts in the dark and one nightstands he didn’t have to face the next day, it all felt like a lost cause.
He also had to admit to himself a fair amount of worry over how the blonde might react to romantic gestures from men. If I ever get around to actually saying something… The stoic man was quiet and reserved; not showing much beyond silent nods and calm, calculating looks. Oddly, it was exactly that nature that attracted Jean. A looming island in the chaos of the ocean, Mike represented certainty, strength and dependability; something Jean felt he had very little of before and after calamity struck. He was beautiful and regal, if a bit disheveled some days, and Jean wanted to know if he might touch him the same way he walked through life.
If he even likes men that way… Honestly, Jean couldn't tell.
”So,” Jean blurted, prying himself out of his tipsy anxieties in favor of attempting to speak like nothing was making him nervous. “What are you in the mood for, Big Guy?” And fuck if that didn’t hint at innuendo. Stupid, stupid, stupid…
“Something sweet, I think.” Mike’s voice filtered to Jean as the larger man rounded a shelf to their left.
Indeed. Jean pushed on to the next shelf, nodding. Then, realizing dumbly that Mike couldn not see him, he stuttered out a reply. “Uh, yeah! Yeah, sounds good!” Jesus Christ, get it together…
He knew that Mike understood he was gay. It wasn’t as if he’d told the man outright, but Mike had witnessed enough conversations over the several weeks they’d known each other to figure it out. And if he didn’t catch on after hearing shit like their Captain America discussion tonight, he certainly had to have figured it out after all the times a single look from him made Jean stumble over his words like a jackass.
Contrary to popular stereotype, the burly soldier hadn’t treated him poorly for it, in fact, though Jean agonized over the implications frequently, he seemed to regard Jean with growing interest. For why would he call him Pretty Boy more and more often, and with a seeming measure of fondness, if he wasn’t comfortable with Jean’s tastes?
It could just be a Bro Thing. Jean thought, surveying the shelf before him without taking in any of the information he read on the labels.
Jean was a slender, skinny fellow compared to Zacharias’ rugged strength. With smooth skin, shining hair and wide eyes at twenty seven, Jean had a look that saw others guessing that he was much younger. The contrast between them was stark. He didn’t know Mike’s age, thought he was decidedly older, and it was perfectly understandable if all Pretty Boy meant to the other man was that Jean was different. Maybe he was just reading into things too much. Maybe Mike’s behavior only indicated that Jean didn’t bother him, that he accepted who he was. That did not equate interest.
You like blondes, do you?
Mike’d sultry words from earlier washed across his mind as if in rebuttal. He had sounded sultry, hadn’t he? Even after that, he’d dragged Jean away specifically. Alone.
Come, Kirstein…
Jean bit his lip. Oh, if only…
”You find anything?” Mike called out from some indeterminate place deeper in the room, startling Jean from his thoughts.
“Yea— I mean, no. Not yet!” Jean didn’t know if they even had anything sweet stashed away in here. In fact, he had yet to explore the food stores beyond the MREs near the entrance. Come to think of it, Mike knew that. Jean had said as much directly to him on one occasion, which now made his insistence that he help him with this task a little ridiculous— especially if they needed to hurry back to the card game. This was decidedly not the time to give Jean the grand tour.
”There could be something good this way.” Mike’s voice rang out closer, clearer. When Jean’s head snapped up at the sound of it, he found the blonde cruising to a stop at the end of the aisle. “Come here. Might find something tasty in the back.”
Jean swallowed again, watching broad shoulders and a serene face disappear behind the tall shelves of the next row. It took him a while to gather himself, and when he finally moved to follow, he rounded the corner to find himself alone yet again. “Mike?” Jean called.
No answer.
Jean pushed on towards the back, following instruction, but still didn’t see him. He turned deeper down a new aisle and actually focused on reading the neat rows of labeled cans and boxes: Green Beans, Potatoes, Carrots. Nothing good here…
He moved farther down: Pickles, Almonds, Cashews, Fruit Cocktail.
”I found fruit! But I don’t think that’s what we were hoping for.”
”I like fruit.” Mike’s voice sounded from just behind Jean and the skinny man jumped, yelping in surprise.
“Jesus!” He cried out, eyes wide. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Mike huffed a breath through his nose, smirking slightly. “Why so tense, are you nervous?” The soldier’s bright eyes flashed with something Jean couldn’t quite place. Curiosity, perhaps? He wasn’t sure.
Jean felt heat creep up his chest; could feel a wash of it sliding up the skin of his slender throat, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’m fine.” He whispered. God. He really shouldn’t have had that last drink. He was barely keeping it together.
“Come with me, I think I found something.” Mike said, and turned like he had all the other times, assuming Jean would follow without question.
Their footsteps trailed to the very back wall in the massive space. The light was dim here, making Jean feel like he was wrapped up in a bubble with the other man, though he tried desperately to force the feeling away. His pulse picked up and his lashes fluttered as he was suddenly bombarded with thoughts of an alternate reality; One where this hunt was deliberate, purposeful, and the two of them were sneaking away for some privacy.
”What did you find?” Jean asked.
”It’s right up here.” Mike paused and pointed towards the end of the aisle, indicating that he wanted Jean to push forward.
Jean ducked his head, passing the bigger man, eyes zeroing in on the portion of the shelf he gestured to. Nervous, he leaned in to read the label on a large box. “Oh my god, chocolate!” He tipped the box forward and flipped open the top, finding a couple dozen Hershey bars stacked inside. “Holy shit! Have we seriously had these the whole time? You’ve got to be kidding m—“ Jean’s excited words were cut off when the hot presence of Mike’s body crowded him from behind, a thick muscled arm reaching around to pluck a candy bar from the box.
Mike’s face leaned in close when he did it, his rough jaw brushing the side of Jean’s face and spreading tingles through the smaller man. Heat coiled within him and his back went rigid, breath held lest he gasp audibly. The distinct sound of a deep inhale echoed in the quiet space.
Did he just… smell me? Jean wondered. Do I smell good? Do I—
Jean fought to stay perfectly still, confused though elated and not wanting to make a fool of himself. When Mike retracted his arm, he did not step back to give Jean any space, standing just shy of pressing him against the shelves. His proximity was intoxicating, and Jean wished he could lean back and feel the strong frame of Mike’s heavy body behind him. He wanted to feel more of that heat, that rasping stubble, the power he knew he’d find in Mike’s grip if he’d just—
The rustling of a paper wrapper crinkled just behind him, a muted snap as Mike broke off a piece of chocolate. The smacking slide of wet lips that sucked into the air above Jean’s head sent a heady tingle down Jean’s spine and he squeezed his eyes shut tight. His traitorous cock stirred and his lips curled over his teeth where he bit down to gag himself.
I’m getting hard! He realized, mortified. This was too much.
“It’s good.” Mike rumbled, spreading goosebumps across the soft skin of Jean’s nape. “You should try some.” When Jean said nothing, frozen to the spot, Mike spoke again. “Turn around, Pretty Boy.”
Oh god, no…
He couldn’t possibly. If he faced him, Mike would see. He would know for absolutely certain. There would be no hiding anything, no staying respectful, no—
Mike’s nose pressed to the back of Jean’s hairline, nuzzling there to draw a shuddering gasp from him. “Turn. Around.”
Tentatively, Jean tried it, but he couldn’t rotate between Mike and the shelves without brushing against one or the other. He opted to maneuver awkwardly against the shelf, situating himself so that he was leaning against the boxes.
This is not a maybe, or a what-if… Jean thought fiercely, unable to meet Mike’s eyes. This has crossed from hopeful musings, into outright confrontation. Funny how he had been yearning for this man for weeks now, hoping there was a chance, and now that he was sandwiched between the focus of his desire and a hard place, he could not even look him in the face.
“Kirstein.” Mike sounded amused.
Jean’s eyes raised slowly to greet him, light meeting dark, and he found the blonde smiling softly. Mike’s bangs were tousled, pushed from his forehead so that he could see him fully and Jean thought it was a good look. A damned good look. Mike broke off a corner of chocolate, the motion casual, as if Jean was not standing there with a raging hard on and struggling to remain upright. He held the sweet chip up for the younger man, pinched between two thick fingers. When Jean lifted a hand to reach for it, Mike snatched the treat back.
”Ah, no.” His deep baritone rumbled. “Open.”
It was incredible to Jean how the man before him could seem so unaffected as he bid him to take food from his hand in this way. The request was unexpected, erotic, arousing; Yet he stood there like a stoic mountain, revealing very little of his thoughts.
Nervously, Jean parted trembling pink lips, leaning forward to wait for a taste of luxury. Mike leaned forward as well, hovering his fingers just before Jean’s mouth without delivering the goods. Instinctually, Jean’s tongue darted out to taste. The sweet flavor mingling with a dash of something else— a hint of salt and skin— Mike’s finger. That, apparently, was enough to finally garner a reaction from the big man. Mike’s lashes fluttered, his own lips parting as he watched, enraptured, and finally pressed the chocolate to Jean’s tongue.
Jean kept his mouth open, pulse pounding as he slowly realized that Zacharias apparently had no intention of removing his finger. The taste of chocolate was absolutely heavenly, and while he was frightened to shut his jaw with the other man’s digit still inside, the candy was flooding his mouth with an embarrassing pool of saliva. Just before the spit could spill over, Jean made a decision and sealed his lips around Mike’s index finger and sucked.
A breath shuddered out of Mike, the large man crowding forward with a groan of pleasure on his lips. The pink of his nose from their earlier drinking spread across his cheekbones and the soldier’s light eyes bloomed to nearly black. Mike slid his finger free and slowly cupped Jean’s face. “One more taste.” Mike whispered.
As Jean swirled the candy in his mouth, his eyes widened. Mike wasn’t reaching for more chocolate, he was leaning forward— leaning in to him to— Jean startled, jerking back into the shelf embarrassingly.
Mike chuckled. “I’m almost certain I didn’t misread you.” His eyes, blown wide, flicked down to Jean’s cock which seemed to have less reservations than its owner.
Jean didn’t say anything at first, swallowing hard around a mouthful of sugar and saliva. When Mike leaned back to move away, Jean’s hands shot out to grip the sides of Mike’s dark t-shirt. “No! I— you didn’t read me wrong. He rushed out, unable to meet Mike’s eyes. “I just thought— I mean I didn’t think that you would... be into this.”
Mike tipped Jean’s chin to look at him. The calluses of the bigger man’s hand rasped across the soft underside of Jean’s jaw before sliding left to bury against the auburn stands at his nape. Mike cocked his head. “But I told you you are pretty.”
“I— I thought you were just teasing me. Or that it might just be like a regular sort of—“
”You are pretty, and I like you, Jean Kirstein.” Mike whispered, leaning closer. “Now, do you want me? Or have you been eye-fucking the back of my head in the Jeep every day because you want to be my friend?”
Jean squeaked. “I didn’t think you noticed that.” When Mike scoffed, Jean mustered all the courage he could manage. “And I do want you. But you should know it’s been a while since I’ve—“
”Since you’ve kissed?” Mike nuzzled the side of Jean’s cheek with his long nose. Then he pulled back as if he was desperate to see Jean’s reaction to his next words. “Since you’ve fucked ?”
How the fuck could he ask him that with a straight face? Christ.
“Uh— um, both...” Jean’s voice tremored, shaking like the knock of his knees below.
Mike hummed. “Me too.” He confessed. “My apologies, if I’m a bit rusty...”
And then the blonde dipped his head, capturing Jean’s lips in a soft press of lips, his rough stubble rasping deliciously across smoother skin. One peck stole the smaller man’s breath. Another saw his grip twisting in Mike’s t-shirt. Then a third that tipped his head back as Mike pulled him in close. Before the fourth kiss, Jean watched Mike raise the half open Hershey bar. The blonde took a small bite, then tossed the chocolate down on the shelf and bent to eat at him again. Mike’s hot tongue swiped along the seam of Jean’s mouth, begging for entry with a sweet stripe of flavor. Jean moaned, clutching Mike’s waist and opening for him, tasting sugar and something heady with the sudden hot slide of wet muscle against his teeth— Mike.
The blonde groaned, his free hand skimming under the hem of Jean’s shirt to make his stomach flutter. Kirstein was so fucking hard, aching against the front of his pants. When Mike’s hand spanned the front of his abdomen and trailed around to the small of his back, their bodies pressed together and another rumble escaped them both when their hips met, and suddenly Jean’s worry began to dissipate.
Mike was about as excited as he was, his heavy cock straining against his own zipper. Jean bucked involuntarily, and then again when Mike’s wide palm dipped low to cup his ass and haul him against his broad chest.
When Mike broke the kiss and leaned back to look down at him, Jean’s face followed, mouth still hungry for him. The wonton motion made Mike chuckle again. “Liked that, did you?”
”Yeah.” Jean breathed. “Rusty, my hind foot.” He teased.
”Do you want to stop?” Mike asked him, looking hopeful for more, now.
Jean thought about it and shook his head, fingers trailing back around to Mike’s stomach and then downward towards his leather belt. “I want to keep going.” He’d just brushed the top of Mike’s denim pants when large hands fell upon his own.
”No.” When Jean’s brows turned up in confusion, Mike explained. “Just let me touch you, tonight. We’ll do me another time.”
Jean’s heart fluttered at the idea. Another time? There would be another time? “Alright... If you want to, I—“
”Oh, I want to.” Mike insisted, dipping to latch his mouth against Jean’s pulse point for a toe curling suck.
God, and here I was still wondering if you were gay…
”Is that what I am?” The blonde's humorous tone rumbled into Jean’s body.
”Oh shit— I said that out loud.” But wait— “I assume you are, though? And this is not a— some kind of experiment?”
Mike snorted. “You are not an experiment. And I am just Mike.” Light eyes pulled back to look at him.
Jean frowned. ”What does that mean?”
”It means that I like you, and if you like me, I’m going to keep you. Unless you change your mind. Then you’re free to find someone else, if that’s what you want.” Mike told him.
”I— you’ve thought about this.” It was a statement more than a question because Mike’s tone, his actions, suggested he’d had his mind made up. The way he’d said he had noticed Jean’s attentions was… “How long have you…?”
”I’ve been interested since we were holed up at the Highschool, honestly. I didn’t start thinking about doing something about it until recently, though.”
The revelation made Jean blush all over again. That long? That fucking long? “What changed your mind?” He breathed.
“Erwin and Levi.” He said. “I’ve worked with them for years and out of everyone, even with Hange in the mix, I never thought that either of them would find someone. They just seemed so…”
”Cold.” Jean offered. “Terrifying machines of war who—“
“Yes.” Mike laughed. “But then Elaine came out the morning after we all got back and I saw the way they looked at her. I saw what they had, even after everything.” Mike shook his head. “I figured if they could thaw that much, maybe I can too.”
Emboldened, Jean leaned forward slowly, winding his arms around Mike’s neck. “I think I’d like to try it too.” Mike grinned, and so did Jean, who had gained enough courage now to steal a kiss of his own.
Mike groaned and pulled him in, squeezing him tight and letting Jean feel that strength he knew the bigger man possessed. It was a high to be held by him, surrounded by him. Now, with a new understanding of the situation, Jean let himself fall into Mike, wearing his desire on his sleeve.
“Can you keep quiet?” Mike asked when he broke for breath.
Jean stared dumbly, lost in the sight of Mike’s flushed face. “I have no fucking clue.” He breathed. “Probably not...”
“Well,” Mike whispered, “Let’s test it. Lean back.”
Jean did as he was told, feeling light headed and giddy. He pressed his back against the shelving and Mike’s hands trailed down along his stomach to his zipper. He didn’t tear his eyes away from Jean and all the younger man could do was watch, feeling roughened hands on him, the slight tugging as Mike released the button of his pants. Though Mike was not overly expressive, Jean could see the smile in his eyes every time a touch or movement elicited a gasp.
Breathy sighs sounded as the zipper came down, then the feel of Mike’s fingers between his jeans and boxer briefs made him moan. Truly, he hadn’t even done much, just opened Jean’s pants and pushed them down slightly. He still had his underwear on, but the brush of fabric against his cock made him twitch, the overwhelming sense of someone touching him, caressing him at long last…
“You are very responsive.” Mike whispered.
”I’m sorry!” Jean rushed to say, nerves creeping in again.
”I like it...” Warm fingers trailed up Jean’s hip bones and dipped inside the edges of his briefs. “I like to hear that I affect you.” Mike shimmied his fingers inside and began the slow, agonizing push downward. “I want to see that you like what I do to you...”
Jean still couldn’t look away from Mike’s face, his breath coming out ragged until he choked audibly when the material of his underclothes slipped low enough for his cock to spring free. It was a relief and a curse all at once, for he was no longer trapped by the tight confines of his clothes— but now his fucking cock was out and he hadn’t thought to be self conscious about showing off his privates until right that second.
He should look down, shouldn’t he? To see if he looked attractive? But then, perhaps it would be better to continue watching Mike; to gauge his reaction, to see what he thought. Oh, God! Jean thought. He’s looking down! What if I’m—
“Very pretty...” Mike groaned, taking him in.
Well . Jean thought. That was good. This is good! Although he was hyper conscious of his position: Bent back against the shelves with his hips jutting out, shirt riding up to his navel while his dick throbbed in the empty space between them. Absolutely debauched, no doubt, and Mike hadn’t even—
Jean flinched when Mike raised a hand, palm up, and spit into it. Then his mind blanked as he lowered that hand and took hold of him, his touch a gentle yet purposeful slide across his length. The warmth made Jean suck in a heaving breath. The firmness of Mike’s grip made him choke and the drag of his calluses sent a shiver down his spine that shook the shelf behind him. Jean whimpered, worried he’d fall, but Mike leaned over him, a thick arm draping over the self ledge above.
“Hold on to me tight.” He insisted before he moved again, swirling his palm and watching Jean's face intently as he did so.
“Fuck...”
“Good?”
“God, yes...” Jean’s voice broke on the words, the sound desperate and yearning. The rumble of Mike’s soft laughter made him smile as he began to dissolve into a stuttering stream of whimpers in time with the motions of Mike’s hand.
Mike seemed to alternate his touch, testing each caress and listening to Jean’s reaction. He watched the slender man move, eyes glittering in a way that, when Jean could focus enough to take him in, made him feel like the blonde enjoyed pleasing him just as much as Jean enjoyed being pleasured. Before long, Jean’s moans released unabashed, fingers digging into Mike’s nape, hips rolling to thrust with every stroke he received.
”One of these days,” Mike growled, “I’m going to have you completely alone, not squirreled away in a store room.”
”Yeah?” Jean gasped.
”Oh, yeah...” Mike leaned in to capture his mouth, licking against his tongue and drawing back to suck Jean’s bottom lip hard. “Then I can hear you when you don’t have to be quiet.”
Jean’s bit his swollen lip. “I’m sorry...” He apologized again, feeling overwhelmed. He was loud and he knew it but— “I just can’t— Hahh! I can’t stop— Oh my god!”
“Stop apologizing, Pretty Boy. You sound incredible.” Mike drawled, pulling away suddenly and drawing a pitiful whine from Jean. Large hands fell upon Jean’s hips and skimmed up the length of his lithe body. ”If anything, it’s my fault... but you’ll still have to be quiet.” Mike's hands caught on the hem of Jean’s shirt, bunching the material as he traveled upwards to bring it to Jean’s face. He dipped his head to press one more kiss to his lips and then ordered, “Open.”
Jean’s jaw dropped on command and then a startled squeak escaped him when Mike pressed the gathered fabric of his shirt between his teeth. Without warning, Mike dropped to his haunches, his head cocked as he stared up at him. The sight of Mike kneeling before him made Jean’s body shake. Blonde hair mussed, rough stubble scraping across his hip bone as a pink tongue darted out to taste his skin. Mike’s broad shoulders bulged as his arms continued to skim up and down Jean’s stomach and the slender man thought he might come on the spot.
”I didn’t think this through, clearly.” His hot breath puffed against Jean’s cock, the hard length twitching with anticipation. “There’s only one place you can finish.”
Jean groaned a sound through his makeshift gag that sounded a lot like, “Fuuuuuck.”
”I’m going to taste you, if you’ll let me.”
Jean begged him for it with another wail, his head nodding enthusiastically, wanting so desperately to feel the hot heat of his mouth. This was insane, unbelievable. It was— “Hnggg...”
Mike sucked him in, groaning around Jean’s cock like he enjoyed the taste of him more than the Hershey bar. His groans of satisfaction vibrated through the younger man’s cock, who struggled to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. He needed to see. He wanted to touch; even lifted his palms to reach for him before halting, unsure.
Mike gathered up his wrists and pulled his hands down. He pushed Jean’s fingers into his golden hair, giving permission, and holy fuck it was soft. Perfect, really. He gripped hard and held fast as Mike sucked him in earnest, taking him in deep and swirling his tongue around the head of him with every drawback. He was beautiful like this, like a dream; a fantasy come to life. Jean was so enthralled by sight that, before he could properly warn the big man, his gut tightened against a wave of hot pleasure shooting to the core of him. Jean arched, growling but unable to verbalize that his end was near. Mike sensed it all, big hands clutching his waist to hold him in place and surge forward, taking Jean in completely before Kirstein came with a broken cry muffled through cotton.
When it was over, Jean collapsed against the shelving. Then he felt a soft tug at the material in his mouth. He didn’t remember shutting his eyes but when he opened them, Mike was there, pulling his damp shirt back into place. It was an awkward affair— the material was stretched funny now and didn’t sit quite so well on his frame as it had before. Jean chuckled breathily and Mike, very gently, tucked him away before zipping up his pants.
In the following stillness, Jean looked down at the front of Mike’s pants. “You sure you don’t want help with that?” He asked.
Mike stepped in close. “I could be persuaded.”
”It just so happens I’ve got a box of chocolate to bribe you with…”
Mike laughed a full, open, happy sound. It showed teeth and crinkled his eyes in a lovely way that made Jean’s chest clench. Suddenly, emotion rocked the smaller man, followed by a wave of embarrassment he couldn't quite get a handle on.
Mike’s smile fell. “What’s wrong?”
Jean formed words around a lump in his throat. ”Don’t change your mind, okay? About this.” When that sounded mortifyingly desperate to his ears, he added, “Or at least give me a little time, okay. Just let me feel it for a while.” He meant them, this new thing— whatever it was.
Mike’s smile returned, though smaller, and he leaned in to peck Jean’s cheek. “You worry too much, Pretty Boy. I’m not going anywhere.” Then he leaned in, reaching past him to snatch up the partially eaten chocolate bar. “I’d feel bad if we didn’t finish this.”
Jean rubbed at his eyes. “Would be a waste, wouldn’t it?”
”Have you seen the upper echelon dorms yet?” Mike asked.
”Not really…”
”Come.” Mike said. “I’ll show you mine…”