He's never been good at just shutting up, at not pushing Jean's buttons just to push them. Jean giving him exactly what he wants doesn't change that about him, unfortunately for both of them.
Eren watches Jean's face for a moment. He's not the only one coming undone here, he knows, and somewhere in a place where he still enjoys things in a semi-normal way, he likes knowing that. He likes that this has never been one-sided. He likes that Jean wants him even after everything.
One day Jean won't look at him like this anymore. Like everything, he wants to hold this as long as he possibly can.
Then he can't say much of anything, because Jean's hand is around his throat. He doesn't struggle. Why would he? It's not that big a deal yet and really it just gets him going more. He's breathing open-mouthed, noisy, still making whatever needy sound manages to escape when Jean's hand tightens.
Jean's cock moves against his prostate and he jolts a little under it, the little shock and more intense pleasure of it. One hand clenches against the blanket under him, pulling it into a mess. There's a metaphor there somewhere.
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He's never been good at just shutting up, at not pushing Jean's buttons just to push them. Jean giving him exactly what he wants doesn't change that about him, unfortunately for both of them.
Eren watches Jean's face for a moment. He's not the only one coming undone here, he knows, and somewhere in a place where he still enjoys things in a semi-normal way, he likes knowing that. He likes that this has never been one-sided. He likes that Jean wants him even after everything.
One day Jean won't look at him like this anymore. Like everything, he wants to hold this as long as he possibly can.
Then he can't say much of anything, because Jean's hand is around his throat. He doesn't struggle. Why would he? It's not that big a deal yet and really it just gets him going more. He's breathing open-mouthed, noisy, still making whatever needy sound manages to escape when Jean's hand tightens.
Jean's cock moves against his prostate and he jolts a little under it, the little shock and more intense pleasure of it. One hand clenches against the blanket under him, pulling it into a mess. There's a metaphor there somewhere.