Just This Once || Erenxreaderxjean

37

"Uh, no. Not usually," Jean said, rubbing the back of his neck. She made him nervous.

But she was still smiling, and those grey eyes were still as dazzling as ever.

"I'm Mikasa."

Mikasa, huh. Maybe books weren't so bad.  

~ present day ~

The pitter patter of rain outside would have lulled you to sleep long ago if Jean hadn't been there to keep you awake.

Every so often his hands would find your waist, and pull you close. His lips would meet yours and he would breathe you in like you were the only thing in the world that brought him happiness.

Saturday was finally here, and Jean was taking you out tonight. A proper date. Not sex in the back of his car, or a trip to waffle house. He wanted to take you to a real dinner. The kind where men wore ties and the women wore heels.

The house was quiet this evening, rare for a Saturday. Connie had taken most of the guys out to go mini golfing, leaving the house barren of chaos. You and Jean reveled in the serenity of the peace, having already spent the day together, and now the evening getting ready.

Jean came up behind you as you pulled on a coat that matched your outfit. He slipped his hands under the material of your clothes, until they rested on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles on your sides. He pressed his chest up behind you, and nestled his head in the crook of your neck.

"Almost ready to go?", he whispered into your skin, before he planted a soft kiss on your neck.

"Mmm you're impatient," you responded, grabbing a necklace you had set out to wear with your outfit. Still, you tilted your head giving him easier access to your neck, which he continued to kiss.

"I have a feeling you don't mind," he murmured, trailing his lips up to your jaw, and eventually nibbling on your ear. 

You let out a breathy laugh. "Put this on for me, would you?", you asked him, holding up the necklace.

Jean's hands left your waist, but soon returned to you when he clasped the necklace around your neck. As he finished, he grabbed your chin and took your lips with his.

Touching you was like his high. He couldn't get enough of it. They way your body felt against his, they way your lips responded to his. He wanted more. He always wanted more.

Wanted to feel more of your soft hair between his fingers, see more of your grey eyes looking up at him-

Jean pulled away from your lips.

He looked startled.

"Everything okay?", you asked him.

"Mhm," he hummed.

"Alright," you said.

Your face must've shown that you didn't believe everything was fine. To prove his point, Jean took your hand and spun you around, eyeing you from head to toe.

"You ready to go, pretty girl?", he asked, pulling you close to place a small kiss on your forehead.

"I am if you are."

Jean slung his arm around your shoulder, and with that hand he held yours, interlacing your fingers. You leaned your head against his chest.

You liked it, you'd decided. Holding his hand. It felt comfortable no matter what labels your relationship had.

But you couldn't help but notice how off something felt. You couldn't explain it, but something just felt different the past few days. Jean felt different. He felt sad. He was great at hiding it, at pretending to be his usual self, but you still noticed. You felt it in the way he kissed you.