Jean knows Eren doesn't give a shit. He's pretty sure he could lock him into a stockade back at the Garrison and he'd get off on it. But beyond the logistical impracticalities, Jean is... a jealous sort.

Eren, broken, bruised, bleeding, that's for him. He's helped Eren heal from machine gun wounds when the scout ships get a chance to fire on him, and he vividly remembers pressing a thumb into steaming, healing flesh just to make Eren squirm. Maybe they're both equally fucked up, because Jean's pretty sure the reason he hasn't bothered flirting with anyone recently is he can't conceptualize of sex without putting his hands on someone and breaking parts of them.

That's getting ahead of himself, though. Eren's still unmarred in front of him, drawling the title out. Jean reaches up to take his jaw in his hand, fingertips digging in. It's almost romantic for them.

Then he kicks out, sharp and cruel with his boots on, heel aiming for Eren's knees to knock him into a kneeling position. Jean still holds onto his jaw and squeezes to get him to open his mouth, hopefully.

"Had your fun out there earlier?" he asked, his tone low and dangerous as he presses a thumb to either Eren's lips (if he's not opening his mouth) or the inside of his cheek.