Eren wasn't fully aware of everyone's reaction to him earlier, just after it happened. He was disoriented in time, like he just gets. He knew people were angry, but he couldn't see it as a big deal.
He knows he should. He should care more about these people's lives, but…well, being sorry for what is to come for the refugee kids is one thing. Being sorry for killing Marleyans after all they've done and will do if left unchallenged? Whatever. He's not exactly compassionate here.
Still, orders are orders and other people care about loss of life like that. Armin. Sasha. Levi.
Jean.
He relaxes his bite a little. Jean's boot comes up against his balls just after his legs part further and he starts a little. There's nowhere much to go with Jean's hand in his mouth, but even the press of boot under him, the start of discomfort, doesn't make him want to go anywhere at all. He's not hard yet but this is still doing it for him; he turns on easily enough. He's tense, warring with himself not to move his hips against Jean's boot and give him the satisfaction. This is a losing battle, but in true Eren fashion, he fights it anyway.
Eren makes a sound in his throat, just a soft one, when Jean pulls his head back again. It's not like out at the campfire. It's better.
His mouth is still open; there's not really time to react enough to close it. Would he anyway? He's not even sure.
He says what the fuck around Jean's fingers, but it's garbled nonsense. All he can do is glare up at Jean — an expression he can't hold onto, he's not really angry anyway — and swallow, awkwardly. He reaches up with one hand and grabs Jean's wrist with it, but that's all.
no subject
He knows he should. He should care more about these people's lives, but…well, being sorry for what is to come for the refugee kids is one thing. Being sorry for killing Marleyans after all they've done and will do if left unchallenged? Whatever. He's not exactly compassionate here.
Still, orders are orders and other people care about loss of life like that. Armin. Sasha. Levi.
Jean.
He relaxes his bite a little. Jean's boot comes up against his balls just after his legs part further and he starts a little. There's nowhere much to go with Jean's hand in his mouth, but even the press of boot under him, the start of discomfort, doesn't make him want to go anywhere at all. He's not hard yet but this is still doing it for him; he turns on easily enough. He's tense, warring with himself not to move his hips against Jean's boot and give him the satisfaction. This is a losing battle, but in true Eren fashion, he fights it anyway.
Eren makes a sound in his throat, just a soft one, when Jean pulls his head back again. It's not like out at the campfire. It's better.
His mouth is still open; there's not really time to react enough to close it. Would he anyway? He's not even sure.
He says what the fuck around Jean's fingers, but it's garbled nonsense. All he can do is glare up at Jean — an expression he can't hold onto, he's not really angry anyway — and swallow, awkwardly. He reaches up with one hand and grabs Jean's wrist with it, but that's all.