Eren himself feels the most alive and present if he's bleeding. Again, pleasure is good. He can use that too. But nothing is like pain, a reminder of life, of now. It's gotten worse, he knows, but it doesn't matter. He's been living on a countdown timer for years and soon — he thinks it's soon, but he could be off — that clock will run down. He'll never even get to 23 like he should. He's not sure he gets past 18.

All he can do is move forward, like Reiner said.

All he can do is let Jean cover up a worry he can't voice with this, the truth of their bodies combatting Eren's lies. They aren't all calculated. Sometimes it's just I'm fine when anyone with half a brain knows he isn't.

Eren opens his moth wider to accommodate. He does watch his teeth; he has no limits on pain, just on causing it. Anyway, Jean would get pissed at him if he scraped too hard or bit down. Jean is already pissed at him. He can find other ways to push back.

It's awkward not having his hands free. The angle of his arms like this is also awkward. He can't find any leverage. Between Jean's boot under him and Jean using his mouth like this, his own dick is hard and straining against his pants. There's some lingering discomfort there that's impossible to ignore. That's the point, right?

He doesn't even notice himself moaning a little around Jean's cock, spit still leaking down his chin.