Hickey (Jean x Eren)
"Jean!" Eren exclaims. Except it’s less of a Jean-you’re-totally-rocking-my-world-right-now and more of a Jean-stop-because-my-asshole-superior-officer-put-me-on-latrine-duty-for-no-fucking-reason, which Jean is admittedly not a fan of. “I have to go.”
Jean sighs and stops sucking at the curve where Eren’s neck and shoulder meet. “We have five minutes,” he grumbles before switching to the other side because the taste of Eren’s skin, warm from the morning sun and slightly salty, is too hard to resist.
"You said that five minutes ago," he snaps as he tries to sit upright, almost throwing Jean off the bed in the process.
Grunting, Jean grabs the other boy’s shoulders and rolls them so Eren’s back presses against the bed. He smirks, because as much as Jean hates to admit it, Eren kicks ass when it comes to hand-to-hand combat and no one pins Eren down unless Eren lets them pin him down. Which, while it’s not a traditional victory, is a victory nonetheless.
"Well, we have five more," Jean drawls before returning sealing his mouth over Eren’s pulse-point and sucking at the supple flesh.
"I have to sort the-the…," Eren trails off and lets out this little sigh that’s soft and sweet and sends a jolt straight to Jean’s groin. "…the stuff," he finishes lamely.
"The stuff, huh?"
Eren groans out his name.
Much better, Jean thinks, but his triumph is short-lived because then Eren pushes him off all of a sudden.
"I really have to go," he says and at least he sounds a little apologetic. "I mean, I want to but I also don’t want to start the day off on Levi’s bad side. The last time…"
And Jean stops listening, not because he doesn’t care about what Eren’s saying (although he will admit he is also not a fan of the shame-faced babbling Eren does whenever he feels guilty about something, which is pretty much all the fucking time) but because he sees a couple red marks appearing on Eren’s neck. Marks that Jean left behind, there for the whole world to see.
Jean decides he likes the sound of that too.
Eren must notice the wolfish grin almost halving Jean’s face because he stops talking and gives Jean a flat look. “What? Is there something on my face?”
Jean debates telling him but decides against it. “Nah,” he says, stretching out on the bed and lacing his fingers together behind his head. “You just look pretty good is all.”
This chapters golden.