cw: masturbating, dry humping, graphic details, etc.

ꕥ

Jean was sat on the tile of the shower floor. His sluggish back was rested against the wall and his legs were laid out in a lazy manner.

His eyes were shut like he was slowly dozing off but his mouth was still moving. He kept repeating the same thing over and over. "You're so pretty."

He kept tilting his head back and you'd get scared he'd end up drowning himself under the running water if his neck was bent at the right angle.

"Okay, we need to sober you up or else this isn't going to work." You sigh, exhausted from trying to get him to stand up.

You were normally pretty strong but his body felt like it was being held down by imaginary weights. As much as you pulled and tugged, he would not move from that position.

You grab a glass of water and practically force him to drink it. You shut off the overhead falling water in the meantime. He whines. "Heyyyyy, I was using that."

You sit down in front of him. "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?" His shirt was already completely off and thrown off to the side. His pants, however, were still very much on and stuck to his legs as they soaked up all the water that spilled onto them.

"I'm hot." He groans, his eyes never coming open. You don't blame him for feeling that way. He was doused in hot water and the steam filled up on the tiny bathroom and made it feel like a sauna.

He begins to fumble with his belt which was still very much attached. "I need to take my pants off."

Now it was your turn to get hot and not just because the room was warm. It felt wrong to watch him take off his pants and it felt even more wrong to help him do it, especially since he's more asleep than awake.

"Y/n," He continues to complain. "I need help."

In all your years of knowing him, you had never seen Jean drunk. Much less, this drunk. It was pretty adorable to say the least.

He had a pink cast over his face that was mostly prominent on his cheeks and nose. His eyes were shut a majority of the time and even when he had them open, you couldn't really tell the difference because his lids looked heavy.

He also compliments you non stop. Which you aren't complaining at all about that.

He pretty much turns into a big baby which doesn't surprise you because your brothers were the same. It was really the only time you saw them hug eachother or tell eachother I love you. Which honestly is kinda sad.

"You got it." You say looking away. It felt like an invasion of privacy. As much as you would normally love to see Jean naked, him drunk on the bathroom floor is not quite how you imagined it.

As you have your head turned away, you hear the sound of a metal clasp come undone and the sound of a zipper shortly after.

Your finger curl into your thigh as a distraction. A huge part of you just wanted to step out the restroom and let him do his thing but he was so out of it that you were scared he'd slip and fall.

Then there's the sound of pants being thrown across the bathroom and landing right on the sink in front of your averted eyes.

Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.

"Y/n."

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

"Yes?" You say still facing away from him.

He doesn't say anything which for a moment worries you but you still refuse to look that way. You repeat yourself louder this time. "YES?"

Again, nothing. You figure he might've fell asleep but when you turn to check, he is the exact opposite.

His eyes were as open as he could get them to be and he just watches you like you're the only thing his foggy eyes can focus on. Like you were the shining lighthouse illuminating the dark sea.

He had his head tilted to the side like his neck no longer wanted to carry it. His eyes were somehow dim yet sparkly at the same time.

Eyes of lust.

There was a painting back home titled that. Eyes of Lust. It was a famous painting of a man staring at a beautiful women. The art was famous for its raw emotion portrayed in the eyes of the man.

The man had lustful eyes that commanded your attention the second you looked at the painting. The eyes were so powerful and alluring that you don't even notice the women at first.

The way the man yearned for that woman, yearned to hold her and kiss her and everything that'd come after, you could see all of that just by looking at his eyes.

And Jean is looking at you exactly like that right here, right now.

You try to keep your eyes on his face and force yourself not to look anywhere lower than his neck.

Your eyes, taunting you, look just centimeters down to his collarbone and your stomach does a back flip.

Seriously?! His collarbone is what's doing it for you?!

You flick your eyes back up to his as you take a deep breath. "I see you're starting to gain consciousness. You think you can shower on your own?"

"No." He answers like he doesn't even have to think about it.

You glare at him. "Why not?"

He leans in closer to you, his body that wasn't fully cleansed still smelt like wine even though he took his clothes off and now only wore boxers.

The wine they poured into his mouth and spilled everywhere was probably all over his neck and hair somehow. Maybe even his chest.

He pauses only millimeters from your face, his hand coming up to your cheek to hold you in place. "I don't want to shower if it isn't with you."

It was like his breath was somehow fueled with fire because as soon as he spoke those words, your entire face began to burn.

You weren't used to bold Jean. It was always you making him flustered, not the other way around. Although, he did have his moments whenever you were both alone when he was comfortable and being himself.

Right now, he's all those things with a bunch of liquid courage running through his veins.

"I can't." You say not pulling away. You somehow couldn't. Not because his hand was on your cheek or because his face was so deadly close to yours but because you were scared of what might happen if you even move an inch.

He kisses you gently, just enough to ease you into it. Of course, you melt instantly like a candle whose flame has been lit for far too long.

Gradually, the kisses become more intense and you're so grateful that you kissed Mikasa before this so that you had experience or else your first kiss with him would've probably been a disaster.

Even then, the way Jean was kissing you... it was nothing like the way Mikasa did. Mikasa's was soft, wet and gentle and her mouth tasted like her favorite cherry candy.

Jean's kisses started off that way but the more you kissed, the hungrier the kisses got. With each press of the lips, with each flick of the tongue, the kiss would somehow get more passionate than the previous.

You weren't sure if it was because he was intoxicated but he was kissing you like it was the last thing he'd ever do. Like his sole purpose in life was just to kiss you.

You're so consumed by the way his lips feel on yours and the lewd thoughts forming in your brain that you don't even notice he's trailing down to your neck.

You gasp and pull away from him after he plants one wet kiss on your neck. You bring your ear to your shoulder. "Don't do that."

He laughs. "Does it tickle you?"

"Sorta." You mutter.

Why were you being such a prude? This is the moment you've been waiting for years now! You'd be lying if you said you never thought of losing your virginity to Jean ever since you were 16 and you saw him again for the first time. It came across your mind once or twice.

Okay, maybe a few times.

"I can't shower with you." You say twisting your body around, your hand covering the spot on your neck he kissed.

"Why not?" He pouts, genuinely sad.

You felt pathetic. Truly and utterly pathetic. Normally people told you that you had a fearless and bold personality. You, yourself, agree with that. Nothing ever really scared you and if it did, it was an exciting kind of scared like when you jumped off that waterfall.

But this.... this was scary. Scary, scary.

"I.." You lower your voice for this next part as low as you can get it. "I don't want to take my clothes off in front of you."

"You do it in front of Mikasa all the time, don't you?" He tries to make you laugh.

It was true that you did easily strip naked in front of Mikasa. She's seen probably every inch of you considering she is right beside you each time you bathe. Not to mention she helps you shave.

Hitch aswell has seen you naked a million times whenever she starts on a new design from scratch. You would stand on that pedestal and in front of that mirror with no fear at all.

But there was something different about Jean seeing you naked. To begin, he never has. Meaning that since it's his first time, he's going to look at everything.

And that's what scared you the most.

It wasn't necessarily an insecurity problem, you were pretty confident in yourself and your body. But there was something about the boy you were in love with seeing every single inch of you and his eyes silently judging all of it.

What if he hates your body? What if he thinks one boob is bigger than the other or you have weird nipples? What if he thinks your stomach isn't flat enough or your waist isn't small enough? What if he pays too much attention to your body hair?

And that's when it hits you.

When was the last time I shaved?! Anywhere?!

You begin to feel a slight panic. You cursed your brain for causing you to turn into an anxious, overthinking mess.

You tug on the collar of your dress and lift it up. "That's different."

"Why?" He frowns.

"Boys are meaner." You admit as you twist the bracelet Mikasa got you for your birthday. Right now was one of those moments where you really wished she was here so she could tell you what to do. It wasn't like you could just call her and ask her for advice either.

He stands up suddenly and you twist your head quickly to face him again with fear he might slip. Instead, he stands perfectly fine with his hand up against the wall for support.

Since you're still seated, your face is right by his boxers. Not to mention, they were wet and clinging to him way too tightly.

Is that how it looks soft?!?!?!

You slap your hands over your eyes. "Oh my god." You try your best to stand up but considering your eyes are closed and the shower floor beneath your feet is slippery, you lose your balance. Jean catches you before you fall any further.

"You okay?" He asks.

I'm going to jump off a cliff. This time with no water at the bottom.

"I'm fine!" You slip your arm away. "Great even."

He laughs. "Okay." He turns to look at the shower head above him. "I think I'm okay to shower alone now if you're not comfortable showering with me."

"Good." You step backwards and hit the back of the wall. You then step out carefully not to embarrass yourself more than you already have. "I'm glad. I'll just wait for you to finish then."

He nods and slips his thumbs inside the waistline of his boxers. "Okay."

You run out the bathroom before you see him pull them down any lower and slam the door shut behind you. You press your back against the wood and take a moment to process everything that just fucking happened.

Your breathing was insanely hard. Your heart was beating too fast to even properly focus on anything and your head was spinning.

Your fingers come up to your lips and you slowly trace back the chaotic train of events. Starting with the event that started it all. The kiss.

Your thumb tracing your bottom lip, you can feel the ends of your growing smile curl even further. A small laugh begins to form in your throat. "He kissed me."

You squeal and spin around in the room. "He kissed me!" You jump and dance around the room as your body swelled with happiness.

You hop onto the desk stationed in the room and twirl around. "He kissed me! He kissed me!"

You felt like a little kid again. A young girl who just received the best news of her life and was a giggling, fluttering mess.

You then gasp and hop off the table. "I forgot I'm supposed to be watching him." You walk over to the bathroom door and you can hear the faint sound of water running on the other side.

You knock gently. "Jean? You haven't busted your head open yet, right? I'm going to leave the door slightly open so just yell if you hurt yourself, okay?"

"I'll try not to." You hear him reply from the other side of the door. You open the door slightly, just enough for you to hear him if needed.

You then walk over to your bed and it looked so insanely warm and inviting that you just wanted to crawl into it and sleep for hours.

However, you were still in your clothes that were wet from the snow and from the surprise shower. You slip off the damp dress and remain in the tiny small underdress you had underneath. Luckily, that was still pretty dry.

It was a midnight blue colored one that you completely forgot you had but glad you found it again because it was unbelievably comfortable and felt like silk against your skin.

You lay down flat on your back and stare at the ceiling. The ceiling had those bumps on it that reminded you of small stars.

You bring your knees up, the bottom of your dress smushing in between your thighs. You raise one leg up to the ceiling and run your hands across your calves. Your legs felt like a cactus the way your hairs poked out.

Your hands trail from your calves to your thighs and it's the same feeling. You had shaved before you left the castle but time has passed since then  and shaving has been the last thing on your mind since.

You sigh and bring your hands back to your sides. You knew it wasn't a big deal and that the hair wasn't even embarrassingly long but the idea of Jean running his hands along your prickly body was humiliating for some reason.

Flipping to rest on your side, you try to think about something else to avoid making yourself feel even more insecure than you were already feeling.

When your eyes meet the wall to your left, you're now facing a long mirror that resided against the wall.

In the reflection of the mirror wasn't you but Jean instead.

The mirror was facing you but it was positioned in angle that, from where you laid on the bed, showed the bathroom door.

Normally, the reflection would just show the door since it remained closed. However this time, you could see inside the bathroom since you had left it open slightly in case Jean needed you for something.

The shower was an almost glass looking box. One wall, the wall where the shower head was attached, was a cerulean colored tile but the other four walls were see through. You were surprised a hotel how this nice of a shower. Marley really was a rich kingdom.

If it wasn't for the steam that fogged up the glass, you would've seen every single inch of Jean showering right now.

You could only see a blurry mirage of his figure. Even though it wasn't clear, it was enough to send your head into a frenzy.

Your stomach does a small flip and your thighs subconsciously clench together. You watch as he runs his hands through his wet hair to drain all the shampoo out.

Your fingers flex as it resisted the urge to touch his hair. One of your favorite things to do was run your fingers through it. His hair was always so soft and hardly ever tangled. It also always smelled good which didn't surprise you considering he spent far too much time on his hair.

When you try to recall the last time you did it, you're taken aback to just a few moments ago when the two of you were passionately kissing as snow fell in slow motion around you.

Your fingers that were jumping at the chance to touch his hair settle for your lips again. Your pointer finger traces where Jean lips were. You could still feel the way it felt. You honestly couldn't imagine ever forgetting the sensation.

His lips were unbelievably soft and the fact that his mouth tasted like wine made the kisses even sweeter and more addicting.

You watch as he rubs soap around his body, mainly focusing on his neck and chest that had sticky residue from the wine that was spilt all over him.

Suddenly, your brain flashes images of that very moment. Jean's head tilted back as they pour wine down his throat and the red liquid slipped down the sides of his mouth, jaw and neck. You could still see the way the wine creeped down his collarbone to his chest, staining his pure, untainted white shirt.

And for some reason, you picture that shirt being you and Jean being the one to ruin your untouched purity.

Before you knew it, your mind was running wild with imagination. You didn't even realize there was moisture starting to form between your legs.

You bring your hand to your underwear and press the thin fabric up against you as if that will stop the slick from slipping out of you but you can feel it ignore your attempt and continue to flow out.

"Mmm." You whine as you cover your face with your hands. "Why did he have to be drunk?"

You try to imagine how it would be if he hadn't drank so much or if you weren't you and could get as drunk as he did.

Then, maybe you would've showered together
or maybe ended up in each others bed. Then maybe you wouldn't feel so guilty about lusting over him.

You gasp and look over at his bed. It was still the way he left it this morning, the pillows pushed up neatly against the bed frame and the sheets neatly laid out.

"Is he going to sleep in my bed tonight?!" You whisper loudly to yourself.

You grab the pillow beside you and smush it hard against your face as you scream into it so the sound is muffled as can be. Your feet kick the bed over and over with frustration in a tantrum like style.

What do I do, what do I do? I'm not ready!

You always felt like when the moment came, you'd be fearless and ready to lose your virginity especially when it was already arranged to be lost after your wedding to your husband. Knowing when and where made it a little less scary because you had time to prepare and think it though.

But it was starting to feel like you were going to lose it a lot sooner than that. And not to the person who you're supposed to lose it to either.

You weren't complaining. If you had to choose between the two when it came to taking your virginity, you'd choose Jean in a heartbeat. In fact, you'd choose him for pretty much anything.

You'd pick him because you feel it'd be more comfortable. You were already used to him being around you all the time and touching you, so you felt maybe sex wouldn't be too much of a jump from that especially now the two of you have kissed more than once.

But it was actually the opposite. Discomfort aside, you were insanely nervous. You kept thinking to yourself all the possible things that could go wrong. You thought it'd be simpler if it was Jean but instead you're even more anxious.

What if I don't do anything right? What if he hates it and tries to finish faster to get it over with?

You cursed your mind for only adding to your detrimental thought process. Normally, you wouldn't be this nervous. But because it was Jean, you wanted it to be good. You wanted him to enjoy it. You wanted him to feel better than he ever has.

The thing is, you weren't even sure if you could do any of it. That's the problem with losing your virginity to someone who was already experienced. Were you going to dull in comparison to the other two girls?

[play I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys]

You shut your eyes and try to recollect yourself. You were overthinking it. It seemed to slip your mind that you had literal fucking powers that can make people feel good. All you had to do was touch him and it'd feel better than any other girl whose ever touched him.

Confidence overcomes your anxiety. You had the power to make it the best sex he's ever had without even trying. Not to mention, he'd probably love to teach you how to please him anyway.

Suddenly, you weren't scared anymore. Adrenaline and excitement was practically bursting out of you. Or was it the steadily growing pool slipping out of you and seeping onto your underwear?

You slip your hands back down and touch the wet splotch on your underwear. It was damp to the touch and when you bring your hand back up to your eye line, a thin coat of shine gleams on your fingertip.

You couldn't believe you were already this wet with just your imagination and by watching his hazy, soapy figure.

Curiosity eats at you and you start to wonder how much more wet you'd become if you actually tried to please yourself.

Your hand creeps down to your thighs again, no longer giving the prickly hairs any attention. Your mind was elsewhere now.

You turn your head to the side to look into the mirror again just to ensure he was still showering. The last thing you wanted was for him to walk in on you touching yourself.

It takes a moment for you to realize he switched the hot water to cold because the steam had began to disappear slowly, the room clearing up.

His body was becoming clearer now, his blurred silhouette taking a more firmer shape. You could see the curve of his butt as he stands from the side and on the other side of him is...

HUGE.

Your mouth almost falls open. If that was him soft, you couldn't even begin to fathom how it looked when he was hard.

You gently bite on your lip, your teeth hugging the squishy part of it. As much as you knew you should look away, you just couldn't.

His form reminded you of the statues of naked men that were scattered across the garden back home. It was like he was hand crafted by the same artist.

Your mind became hungrily consumed by the alluring man and the bubbly water that made his skin look soft the way it easily glided down his body.

You were so entranced by it that you don't even realize your yearning finger slips past the entrance of your underwear and was sneakily making its way over to the place making them so wet.

Maybe you should pull your hand away but you really didn't want to. Not when your skin was screaming at you like this. Not when your eyes had a mind of their own and your heart lost all self control.

Your finger slips through the slick that's been collecting in the warmth of your underwear. Just as easily, your finger slips through your folds and taunts your hole.

Was it really wrong? It wouldn't be the first time you touch yourself thinking about him. In fact, he was all you thought about when you touched yourself now.

Normally, you'd just use your imagination. All you had to make art with back then was the way his body looked in his uniform which, by the way, was delicious. There was also the small touchy moments the two of you shared. Hugs, holding hands, falling asleep on each other.

With such little to work with, you already came up with some vivid fantasies that always ended up in an orgasm. You couldn't imagine now that you knew the way his tongue felt swirling around yours or the way his lips feel on the sensitive part of your neck.

You also now know what he looks like naked. And my god, was it making you lose your mind.

If you miraculously orgasmed before, you knew this time was going to be a million times better.

Your stomach tightens when the pad of your finger circles around your clit, making your legs extend into the sheets.

You move down to your hole again and barely insert your finger before you slip it out, just slightly teasing yourself.

Your eyes shut as you float off into a dream. Your other hand, the vacant one, grows envious of the other getting all the action and begins to touch at your breasts.

Even with closed eyes, you could see his naked body. You don't think you'll ever forget it. The same way you'll never forget the way he kissed you like he needed it to live.

Your knees touch together and your hand moves on it's own, tracing familiar circular patterns. The more it swooshed around your center, the more lewd your imagination became.

The knot in your stomach kept growing tighter and tighter the more your hands tried to cater to your every desire.

You were so close to the finish. You could hold out your hand and practically grab it because it was right there in front of you. The steady building to a glorious climax.

And then that's when you realize the room suddenly grows quiet. Or has it been this quiet for a while?

It hits you that he finally turned the shower off and since you didn't know how long ago, you knew it was highly possible he'd push that door open at any time.

You shoot up and pull your wet underwear back up, forcefully ignoring the cold, wet goo that pressed against you. You walk over to the window and quickly pretend to be distracted by what's out of it.

Just a second later, the door swings open and Jean is coming out the restroom with a towel wrapped tauntingly at his hips. "I needed that shower. I feel a lot better."

Wish I could say the same. You think to yourself bitterly.

You couldn't believe you were only seconds from probably the best orgasm you've ever had and it was ripped away so quickly that you already missed it.

"What were you doing?" He asks you as he uses another smaller towel to dry his hair.

"Nothing." You clear your throat. "Just waiting for my turn to use the shower."

You could feel the wet splotch on your underwear against your still throbbing cunt. It even began to leak down your inner thighs.

He just keeps fluffing his hair dry with the towel before he finally puts it down and studies you. "Nice dress."

"Thanks." Avoiding his gaze, you attempt to walk past him but he steps in front of you.

"Did you enjoy the view?"

Your heart stops completely. No, no, no. Please don't tell me he saw me watching him.

"What?" You try to play off, a forced laugh to help ease the tension.

He steps forward and you take a step back. "There's no need to act so innocent, Princess. No one else is around."

You continue to step back and he keep walking forward. You bring your hand to his lower chest and abdomen area as a weak attempt to stop him from getting closer even though you really, really didn't want him to stop.

Suddenly, you're out of moves as you back up all the way and bump into the large window beside your bed.

Now your back was against the cold glass and he was hovering over you, his body still glistening with stray drops of water. He no longer smelled like wine and the fragrance was replaced with a cleaner, fresher scent.

"Are you nervous?" He asks, his arm extended over your head and his hand pressed against the window for balance. Cold water that dripped down from his hair fell onto your chest.

Yes.

You scoff out a laugh. "Nervous? Me?"

Clearly you were nervous. Actually, nervous was quite the understatement. You had just been playing with yourself to the thought of him and right before you even got to finish, he now stands here in front of you, taunting you in a skimpy white towel.

"Oh?" He smirks. His hand comes up to rest of your chest, gently enough to feel the pulse underneath it. "Your heart is beating pretty fast for someone who isn't nervous."

The hand that monitored your racing heartbeat trails upward to your collarbone area and lower neck. "Were you doing something you weren't supposed to be?"

It felt insanely hard to breathe. For a moment, you had trouble believing this was actually real. If it wasn't for his physical touch proving it's existence, you would've thought this was some sort of dream.

But it was real. Even though Jean had washed all the wine off his outer body, it still pumped inside him. He was no longer wasted but he was definitely still tipsy.

This was the boldest you have ever seen him. The way he was touching you, kissing you and talking to you had you in a chokehold. It was so different from his usual more reserved self.

Because you weren't used to him being so daring, you didn't really know what to do or say. It was like you were starstruck.

His eyes leave your body and look a few inches higher to the window you desperately lean up against. "With the blinds open too? You don't care if anyone sees you?"

Your teeth began to grit together. "I wasn't doing anything."

You don't know why you even bothered lying. He clearly already knew what you were doing. Maybe he somehow saw you in the same mirror if he stood at a certain angle. Maybe he just assumed from how jumpy you were when he came into the room like you had just been caught in action.

Whatever it was, he knew.

That still doesn't mean you'll admit it though. Not out loud atleast.

He gently grabs your shoulders to turn your body around so that you're now facing the window. When you looked out the glass, you could see how Marley stretched on and you could still see people out on the streets enjoying the snow, even in the late night.

Your back was now pressed up against his bare chest. His hands slither up up to your chin and he holds your face in place to keep your eyes out the window. "If only everyone out there knew what you were doing just now."

You felt like you were on the verge of passing out. It felt like you had a burning hot fever. Your skin stung and moisture begin to seep out your pores. Not to mention you were already still wet down there so it was steadily growing worse.

You could see your caught face as well as his devious one holding you from behind. "You saw me doing what exactly?"

"I'll show you." He says right by your ear and chills crawl up your spine.

Before you even get to process it, he picks you up and seats you right on the desk to your right like nothing. It happened so quickly that in a blink of an eye you went from standing to sitting on the desk table.

Your legs apart he rests both hands just slightly over your knees. "Go on. You were just about to finish, weren't you? Sorry I interrupted."

WHAT?!?!?!

You instinctively close your legs, your thighs smushing together.

Why can't I talk? Say something, you idiot, say something!!

He suddenly laughs. "You love to make me nervous but when the roles are reversed, you freeze like a deer in headlights."

He stands straighter now and runs his hand through his damp hair. "I didn't actually know what you were doing, I was just messing with you at first but you actually startled getting paranoid so I went along with it."

Jean then grins. "Now I know why you can't look me in the eyes."

You can't believe you sold yourself out. He was just teasing you at first but you reacted too suspiciously proving he was actually on to something. You fell right into his trap.

You push him away. "I don't know what you think I was doing but you're wrong. You just scared me when you came out the restroom."

"How come it took you this long to say that then?" He asks grabbing a clean shirt from his bag.

"It's pretty hard to speak whenever you're touching all up on me and whispering in my ear." You recollect yourself and pick up the strap of your dress that slipped down your shoulder.

He swiftly puts the shirt on and the fabric clung to his skin in the most perfect why. "Whatever you say, Princess."

You pick up the towel he used for his hair from the ground and shove it against his chest. "Don't make a mess."

You walk past him and grab your clean clothes from your side of the room. When you pass him he says, "Same to you."

Even though your heart stops for a spilt second, you keep moving and pretend you hear him at all.

Once the door to the bathroom is shut, you bury your face in your palms. You were mortified.

You make sure to lock the door before you start up the shower. You grab everything you need from your hair products, shaving cream, your razor, body wash etc and set them all over the shower as if it was some kind of ritual.

Once you're fully undressed, you get to work. It would be your first time shaving without Mikasa's help and you knew it was probably going to take a while. That being said, you hoped he wouldn't be asleep by the time you finished.

However, it was either be as quick as possible and sacrifice your legs and other extremities to the sharp razor and gain tiny cuts all over the place, or you could take your time and just hope he's still awake by the time you finish.

When it hits you that you can cut yourself accidentally over and over again because your skin would heal it anyway, you go as fast as you can ignore the sting of the razor when it snips your skin only for the pain to disappear a second after.

After you've done all you needed to, you step out the shower. There wasn't a clock in the restroom so you had no idea how much time had passed since then. He was either awake and sober by now or drunk and asleep.

You hold onto the doorknob with a firm grip. "If he's awake and sober, I'll do it." You say quietly to yourself and follow up with a deep breath.

When you exhale, you pull the door open and step into the room. You held on cautiously to your towel that was wrapped around you and tucked underneath your arms.

Jean is on his stomach, fast asleep with his arm hanging off the side of the bed. Your confidence fades. "He's passed out."

You walk up to him and squat down to bring your face to his. You bring your finger under his nose and you can feel the steady puff of air pushing in and out of his nostrils. "Jean."

His forehead creases together. "Mm?" He groans.

You smile softly. "Goodnight." You kiss his lips one last time. You didn't know if he'd remember kissing you at all tomorrow and if it'd ever even happen again. It hurt to pull away knowing those possibilities.

When you finally gather the strength to pull yourself away, his hand that hangs off the edge of the bed reaches for you. "Don't go." He mutters like he was sleep talking.

You clutch onto your towel. "I still have to change."

"Promise you'll come back after?" He continues to dream aloud.

You chuckle. "Cross my heart."

He falls back asleep as he hears the words of reassurance. He didn't doubt your word at all.

You moisturize your body throughly and tame your hair in the bathroom before you slip into a night gown and crawl into bed beside Jean.

He was facing the other direction so you only got a view of his back. His shirt was off like it usually was when he slept so you could see all his back muscles in the faint light.

You scoot closer to him and stopping right before you make contact with his sleeping body. "Hey." You call out quietly.

He turns his body around to face you but his eyes stay shut. "You came back." He mumbles.

You brush hair away from his eyes. "I said I would, didn't I?"

He raises his arm sluggishly and pulls you into him, your face buried in his lower neck. He then holds on to you and he's out almost instantly. 

You lay there completely still, slowly processing the fact he was cuddling you like a pillow or stuffed animal. He was knocked out and holding you in his arms. When it was extra quiet, you could hear the faint sound of his heart.

You could feel his chest rise and fall at a calming pace. As someone who was experienced in several different instruments, you were taught to find patterns in all kinds of sound.

And the constant beating pattern of Jean's heart was beautiful and divine.

It was calm and content like he was his most relaxed and carefree state in this very moment. Just listening to it made your heart follow its tempo.

Every muscle within you relaxed, every nervous feeling melted away and any negative thoughts vanished into thin air.

All you felt now was...

Peace.

Before you knew it, you were drifting away into a blissful slumber and what was about to be the best nights sleep you've ever had.

ꕥ

The next morning was...eventful. Well, it lead into what you would call a very eventful day.

You hear the sound of bags moving around and the restroom door opening and closing which causes you to wake up.

"Goodmorning." Jean chimes as he buttons his shirt.

You sit up and rub your eyes. "You're up surprisingly early."

"Well, we have a long road ahead, dont we?" He responds as he tucks his shirt in and reaches for his belt.

You use your hand to shield your eyes from the bright sun that shines through the window. "You're not nauseous or anything? No headache or upset stomach?"

"No, I actually feel amazing." He beams as he attaches the clasp of his belt.

Seriously? Ah, I healed him last night in his sleep, didn't I?

Does that explain the cheerful mood too? Does he not remember anything? The kiss, the confession?

You stand up from the bed and stretch your arms upwards as you yawn. "You got pretty drunk last night."

He sighs and adjusts his hair in the mirror. "Don't remind me."

You smirk. "So you remember me having to drag your ass back to the hotel?"

He tosses a used q-tip your way. "Shut up. I don't remember much and that's how I know I was drunk. I don't even want to know what happened."

"Oh." You fail to hide the disappointment in your voice as you grab the clothes you're going to change into.

"I do remember us kissing though." Jean admits to your surprise.

You shoot your head back up. "You remember that?"

He chuckles bashfully. "Kinda hard to forget." He looked a kid who just had his first kiss.

You have to force your cheeks to remain still. "What else do you remember?"

"I remember hitting my head on the pole." He rubs at his forehead, reminiscing the smack.

You laugh. "That did happen, didn't it?" All your mind could think about was the kissing that you completely forgot about him running into the pole.

"By the way," He calls your attention back to him.  "Sorry if it was awkward with Thalia. I was just as surprised as you were to see her."

You walk over to the bathroom to brush your teeth. "It wasn't."

He looks at you and you can see him doing it in the reflection on the mirror you stand in front of. "You know, you were a lot more calm about it than I thought you'd be."

You run your toothbrush under the water before you apply toothpaste. "Oh? And why is that?"

"Because—" He suddenly freezes like he's starting to rethink what he wanted to say or where he was going with this. "Well, because..."

You turn your neck to face him and raise your eyebrows. "Did you think I'd be jealous of her?"

He stops breathing for a second and takes a brief pause. "I don't like where this is going."

You shove the toothbrush into your mouth. "I'm just asking you a question."

"No I didn't!" He steps forward. "I just expected something else besides you politely smiling."

You spit into the sink. "I'm a princess, that's what
I've been hardwired to do when I meet someone."

You knew he was fishing for you to say that you were jealous because that woman has kissed and fucked the man you've crushed on since you were a kid. But you wanted him to come out and say it, not just throw passive-aggressive hints at you.

And he doesn't.

He turns his body around and changes the subject. "Before we leave, I have to send letters back home."

You rinse out your mouth before you step out the bathroom. "What are you going to say?"

He sits at the desk and grabs a few notes of paper and some ink. He sighs, the stress already getting to him. "That I've passed through all the towns to get to Marley and I still haven't found you yet. What else?"

You bring your clothes into the restroom and begin to change into them. You carry on speaking to him from behind the semi closed door. "Just say you have a good idea of where I'm at because you've been following horse tracks all the way from Eldia."

You, as quickly as you can, change into one dress into the other. "Then you can say you lost the tracks since it snowed."

You kick the door open and come out into the room fully dressed. "It technically isn't a lie. It really did snow."

"There's a lot of that excuse that's a lie besides the snow part but let's move on." He says as he begins to write the letter.

You lean up against the desk as you watch his pen dip into ink and scribble onto the paper. "How do you think they're doing right now?"

"Your dad is probably trying his best to keep it together, your mom is probably standing by the mail room everyday waiting for a letter." He replies as he focuses on your conversation and the one he's writing at the same time.

"Elijah is probably his usual self but he checks for letters here and there too and he's probably the one comforting your mom the most." He says as he moves onto the second paragraph of the letter.

He wrote surprisingly fast while maintaining good handwriting. For someone who doesn't know how to respond to letters, he sure knows how to write one.

The way he was effortlessly carrying on with talking and writing about two different things amazed you. "Ambrose is probably talking shit to your parents and saying I'm taking too long and
once I send this letter, he'll be even more mad that I haven't found you yet."

He takes a break and pops his fingers. "Kai is probably bugging your parents by asking if they've received anything every five minutes and he also is probably having trouble sleeping."

He looks up at you from where he sits. "Mikasa is probably going crazy every second she doesn't see you walk through those gates."

You feel your whole body sink. "I expected you to lie to me and reassure me that they're all okay but now I feel terrible instead."

He leans back into the chair, the front two legs lifting up in the air as he balances on the other back two. "But do you feel terrible? I mean, before I told you all of that, did you feel bad? Are you not happy?"

"I am." You remind him and yourself. "I'm finally going to Paradis. I'm going to see the floating lanterns in person and not just for my bedroom window all the way in Eldia. I'm also going to maybe find out more about myself and my powers. How could I not be happy?"

He brings the chair back to normal and grabs the pen. "So then don't worry about anyone else. Not for now at least."

You raise an eyebrow. "You're oddly calm."

He laughs as he finishes the final sentences of the letter and then signs his name at the bottom. "One of us has to be or this entire thing will turn into a complete disaster."

ꕥ

Once the two of you repack your belongings and Jean drops the letter off at the post office, the journey to Paradis begins.

You hold up the map in front of you as you release the reins of Maximus and allow him to just guide the way. "If we go without stopping, we should be in Paradis by tonight."

"Yeah right." Jean snatches the map out of your hand. He then grows silent. You cross your arms. "Told you."

He holds the map in one hand and the compass in another. "I didn't realize how close we were."

You tilt your head. "You sound disappointed."

He jumps and hands the map back to you. "More like relived." He scoffs. "The faster we get to Paradis, the faster I get to go back home."

You face forward. "You don't want to be here anymore? I thought you were having fun."

"I am. I'm just..." He waves his hands in the air as he tries to search for the word he wants to use. "Look, I can have the most fun I've ever had in my entire life but in the back of my mind, I'm still worried about us getting caught. I feel like I can't properly enjoy myself because I'm always on edge."

You nod and push forward to be a few steps ahead of him. "Didn't you tell me not to worry about what's going on back home? That's pretty hypocritical of you, don't you think?"

You can feel him glare at the back of your head. "I'm allowed to worry. You're not. I want you to enjoy yourself the most you can before you go home." He explains.

He catches up to you. "I'll always be able to leave and do this. Just take a vacation and travel. You can't."

"Thanks for the reminder." You say as you stare up at the sky. The sun was out today and beaming down on the ground. It had already begun all to melt all the snow that fell from the same sky just last night.

It's quiet for a few minutes after that and you don't mind it at all. The view was beautiful and pleasing. It wasn't as cold today, the winter storm fully passed through and allowing warmth to swarm once again.

There was the sound of the horses walking through the melting snow and small animals up in the trees going about their daily routines.

You knew Jean wasn't talking because he was probably rethinking everything that happened between 8pm last night all the way up to now.

You, on the other hand, weren't speaking because you didn't know what to say. You suppose you could just say whatever random thought that came into your mind like you usually did but he didn't really seem to be in the mood for small talk at the moment.

You look at him briefly. He was fiddling with the compass, flipping the cover open and closing it, over and over again. He seemed nervous.

Did he regret it? The kiss and everything else? Was he secretly punishing himself for allowing it to happen?

Knowing him, so righteous and moral, he's probably criticizing himself for kissing an engaged woman. Not that he seemed to have any problem with it last night when he kissed you so hungrily and begged you to stay in his bed.

You didn't want him to feel bad about it. You knew for a fact he was blaming himself when he should also blame you. You're the one who cheated and even though Jean was the one who kissed you, you didn't stop it. You also continued to kiss him several times through out the night.

It was mutual agreement. You wanted to kiss him just as badly as he wanted to kiss you. If not, more.

"You ever wonder if we would've been friends back then if the roles were reversed?" You ask abruptly as an attempt to distract his judging, self hating mind.

He looks at you confused. He clearly wasn't expecting a question like that but it was the first thought that popped into your head so you just figured, why not?

You explain the question further to keep his attention. "Like if my brothers were the ones who had to be locked away and I was the only one who could roam freely?"

Intrigue brings the light back into his eyes. He tilts his head up to look at the clouds and strokes his chin. "Hmm, most likely not."

Your mouth falls open. "What?! Why not? We're friends now, aren't we?"

He laughs at your offended face. "Yeah now we are but I wasn't the same person back then that I am now. I was more shy back then, especially around girls."

"Well, I've never been shy so I would've somehow convinced you to be my friend." You counter his argument.

He chuckles and shakes his head down at the ground. "Well, you would've been too cool for me anyway."

Too cool? Was that his first impression of me?

"Do you remember the first time you saw me?" The question pops into your mind.

Jean thinks for a moment. "First time ever? Yeah, I do." He smiles as he recalls the memory.

"Well, go on, when was it?" You ask.

He looks up at the group of trees you both travel through on your horses. "It was a Wednesday." He suddenly freezes. "I don't even know how I remember that."

He then shakes his head to get himself to focus. "Anyway, I was outside with your brothers and we had competitions on who could run the fastest all day long with a few other games and we were exhausted to say the least."

You smile. "You guys were hiding under the shade of the tree, right? I remember that. That was the first time I ever snuck out my room and was outside unsupervised."

"Yeah." He agrees. "Well, actually that's not really the first time."

"No?"

He turns away from you, almost like he was embarrassed to say what follows. "The first time I  saw you was in my mom's arms and she was rocking you to sleep."

You sit up straight on your saddle. "Wait, really?"

He nods. "I would pass by your room all the time
and would hear all these stories about the princess from my mom or from whispers I heard from the other workers."

"Your brothers vaguely ever mentioned you but it was more like they weren't allowed to when I was around, not because they didn't want to." He explains.

"Everytime Ambrose or Kai would accidentally say your name or something related to you, Elijah would elbow them or change the subject casually." He looks down at the map to make sure you're still going the right way.

"Of course, I was a young boy with a curious mind and wild imagination so one day during a game of hide and seek I snuck away to see if I could see you." He adds. "It just so happened that my mom left the door open that day and not shut like it always was."

You lean forward. "And? Did I meet your expectations?"

He shrugs. "Well, you were a snot nosed kid probably still in diapers. I didn't really expect much."

You glare at him and he smiles. "I would sometimes pass your room just to see if maybe my mom left the door slightly open and she sometimes would but it was pretty rare. I would see glimpses of you here and there but the first time was really at the tree that one day."

You nod as you listen to the sound of the horse's hooves clacking against the ground. Suddenly he asks, "Do you remember when you first saw me?"

"I do." You answer. 

"Was it the day under the tree?"

"No." You move closer to him to gain ownership of the map again. "You don't really think only boys are curious growing up, do you? You give the female mind way too little credit."

He defends himself as he smacks his lips. "I do not."

"I would hear your mom practically brag about you everyday. I obviously couldn't help but see for myself." You mention.

"And?" He pries.

You look right at him. "I didn't like your shoes. They looked like potato sacks."

His jaw falls open. "HEY! Sorry, but some people don't money coming out our ass."

You giggle and throw your hands up in the air in surrender. "Hey, little me said it, not me."

Jean shakes his head and laughs as he continues to move forward down the path. "So you didn't like my shoes. Were they that bad that that's all you can remember?"

You twist your lips to the side like you're in deep thought. "Hm, I remember you looked dirty."

His face sags and the word Wow is written all over it. You cackle at his disappointed expression. "You guys had just did a mud fight or something. All of you were covered in wet mud and grass."

"And I felt..." You begin. "Jealous."

He frowns. "Jealous?"

You mess with the reigns of your horse. "You looked like you were having so much fun. You got to play with my brothers while I had to stay inside. It felt like they were your brothers and not mine."

He stares at you in shock. He was caught off guard but gathers himself together quickly. "They're not that fun. You didn't miss out on much." He lies.

He was lying through his teeth. You specifically recall hearing Jean's loud laughter echo through the hall and into the small cracks of your room.

You recall seeing him flash a big toothy smile each time he saw the boys for the first time each day.

"If it helps anything," Jean finally speaks. "I was jealous of you too. You got to spend all the time with my mom. It felt like she was your mom and not mine."

Now you had the same caught off guard expression he had on. You had never really saw it that from that point of view. "Sorry."

He waves it off. "Don't be. Not like I would suffer while she was at work. I was having fun."

You grin. "I thought you said they weren't that fun?"

"They have their moments, I guess." He rolls his eyes.

"Uh-huh." You tease him.

The day goes by quickly. With only just a few brief stops here and there for eating or using the restroom, the journey to Paradis didn't seem long at all.

Well, maybe it was the person you were with that made time feel like it was slipping through your fingers.

Before you knew it, the sun was beginning to set and the sky began to dim slowly. You and Jean were in the middle of a debate over who would most likely end up in jail out of him, you and your brothers when something suddenly catches your eye.

You gasp and take off full speed, leaving Jean behind and breathing in your dust. When you make it to your destination, you hop off your horse and point at a nearby sign.

The sign read Now entering the Kingdom of Paradis. In smaller fine font under the massive words read, The City of Stars.

You jump and down as you point at the sign. "We're here! We actually made it!"

When Jean finally catches up to you, he slides off his horse and cracks his back. "Well, is it everything you've ever dreamed of?"

Paradis was a massive kingdom. It was maybe twice the size of Eldia and even bigger than Marley too.

Where you and Jean stood was only the entrance of the kingdom. The castle was seen off in the distance and a several more miles away. You had to past through several villages just to get to the center of the kingdom where the castle resided.

You look around at the growing night sky. "We still have to some more walking to get to the center. Want to just find a hotel here at the entrance and head into town in the morning?"

He yawns and throws an arm over your shoulder. "Thought you'd never ask."

You laugh and slide out from under him. "Since you're so eager, go get one set up. I'll find somewhere to leave the horses for the night."

"Okay." He says before he points a finger right at you. "Don't go anywhere and I mean it. You better be right here when I get back."

You put a hand on your hip. "When have I ever let you down?"

He sighs and walks away to find the nearest hotel while you look for nearby stables to leave the horses for the night.

When Jean returns, he has a bashful expression on his face and his eyes shy away from yours. You giggle. "What's wrong with you?"

He holds up a pair of keys. "They don't do hotels here. They do cabins you rent out."

You perk up. "So we get our own house instead of just a room?!" You run up to him and slide your arm under his. "Wanna play house?"

"Sure." He begins to lead the way to the borrowed home. "You can be the dog."

ꕥ

The cabin was probably the cutest thing you've ever seen. It was small and humble but that didn't take away from the beauty.

It was secluded and surrounded by plants and trees. There was pink flowers everywhere that were turning a dark crimson color as they die slowly in the frosty air.

When you step inside, you're in complete awe. It looked bigger on the inside somehow and was decorated beautifully.

It had a whole cozy, warm feeling to it and even though it was a rental, it felt like a home. It even had a fireplace. You honestly didn't mind staying here for a good while.

"What name did you put this under?" You ask as you stare up at the ceiling and spin in slow circles.

He grabs you by your shoulders to stop you from spinning before you get dizzy. "Just mine. They didn't ask for anyone else's."

He hugs you from behind. "Sorry you didn't get a chance to play wife this time. I know how badly you like to pretend you're a Kirstein."

You elbow him. "Shut up."

He laughs as he grabs all of your bags. "Want me to put it in the room?"

You nod and follow behind him up the stairs. The room was just as appealing and smelled faintly of marshmallow.

There was one thing that instantly caught your attention. There was only one massive king sized bed. "Is there only one room?" You ask as you take a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah." Jean grunts as he puts some of the bags on the top shelf of the closet. "Is that fine? I'll sleep on the couch if you want."

You cross your legs. "I don't mind."

Once he's finished, he smacks his hands together to dust them off. "Cool. Wanna look around?"

You're on your feet in a blink of an eye. The two of you start off in the kitchen, secretly hoping there would maybe be some food magically waiting in the fridge but it's realistically empty.

From the kitchen, you enter the living room which definitely had more to offer than the prior room.

The gorgeous fireplace immediately demanded the eye's attention but only because it knew the competition it was up against.

There was a beautiful arched window that opened outwards and shined a view of the garden behind the cabin.

The colors of the walls were soft pale shades of pink and yellows. It was all very easy on the eyes.

Soft couches, decorate pillows, a well-maintained authentic wooden coffee table and high ceilings.

There was even a tall bookcase filled with books that ranged from fiction to nonfiction, biographies and books of poetry.

Jean trails over the bookcase and slides his finger down the bindings of the lined up books. "Think we can read these all in one night?"

You giggle. "It's impossible. There's atleast 200 right here. Not to mention, I think I saw another bookcase upstairs."

"Nothing we can't set our mind too, right?" He asks as he randomly grabs a book out from the shelf. "But let's start with this one."

You take the book from him. "A Deeper Look into the Human Anatomy?" You flick your eyes up to his. "If you want to know about it so bad, I'll let you practice on me."

He snatches the book away from you and shoves it back into his original place while hiding his red face. "I grabbed the wrong one."

"Speaking of human anatomy," He turns. "Go take a bath before bed. It's getting late and we have a lot of walking to do tomorrow."

You take the first book you see off the shelf and begin to flip through it. "You go first. You know I take longer than you do."

He sighs. "Fine. Don't g—"

"Don't go anywhere. Got it." You hold up your thumb and continue reading the first page of the book called Pride and Prejudice.

Once he disappears up the stairs, you sit down on the couch and allow yourself to read ten pages into the book to see if you'll keep reading the rest.

After page 11, you take the book along with you and follow up the stairs. Just as soon as you make it to the room, Jean slips out the shower at the perfect time.

"That was fast." You say not looking up from the book.

He carefully walks along the wooden floors as he drips water. "Of course it was. What are you reading?"

You stand up from where you lay and shove the book up against his chest. "I'm on page 12. Catch up by the time I'm out."

You release the book and he fumbles with his hands to catch it while making sure his towel doesn't fall to the floor. "Wait, what?"

You grab your clothes and lock yourself in the restroom. After you take a throughout shower and shave any hairs you might've missed from last night, you carefully wrap your towel around in the most flattering way possible.

Before you reach for the door, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time. There was steam filling the small room so the mirror was completely fogged up. You use your hand to wipe away the moisture.

Tonight was the night. You were sure of it. You had all the courage in the world for it to happen last night but due to unfortunate circumstances, certain events failed to take place.

This time however, there wasn't a drop of alcohol in his system. So whatever happens when you exit this door couldn't be blamed on that this time.

You take a deep breath and when you do the tops of your breasts peak out from the top of the tight fitted towel. You turn on your heel and pull the door away from its frame.

It's now or never.

When you step into the room, Jean doesn't even look your way. He's too consumed by the book on front of him.

Here you were, dripping wet and squeaky clean with nothing but a pathetic towel covering about 25% of your body. Yet, he's staring at tiny black printed words.

"I'm on page 32. Hope you don't mind I skipped ahead." He says as he flips a page. He was sat on the bed with his back against the base board.

He wore a thin white tshirt that was almost see through when it was under the right light and some dark pajama pants.

You lean against the doorframe. "You're wearing a shirt. You always sleep shirtless."

He doesn't look up even still. "It's getting colder outside."

You approach the bed as quietly as you can. "If you're cold, we can turn on the fireplace." He still doesn't notice you. You bend forward to meet his level. "The book getting good?"

He scans the final sentence of page 34. "If you're into this sorta st..."

Finally.

He's practically drooling when he looks up and sees you beside him fresh out the shower and practically naked.

You forgot he didn't get to see you like this last night because he was already passed out. This was his first time.

"Sorta what?" You smile.

His mouth never closes and his eyes never dare to turn away from you. He was in absolute awe of the masterpiece in front of him and he didn't care if it was completely obvious.

You sit beside him on the bed, the frame creaking a little when you do. "You're not into romance?"

He struggles to come up with any words. "I'm more into adventure like The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn."

You sit with your legs bent, the bottom part of the towel pushed up to your upper thigh. "I remember that book. Your mom used to read it to me."

He looks down at your exposed dewy thighs. "Me too."

"What's your favorite book?" You ask. It was funny watching him even try to think about reading when you were seductively seated beside him. You could see his mind spin in circles.

"Um," He pulls his eyes away. His eyes search the room as if he'll find the answer somewhere.

You scoot closer. "You do have one, don't you?"

You could see him growing more and more nervous. "Why are you asking so many questions?" He asks you.

You shrug innocently. "I'm a curious person."

"Well, that's too much. I feel like I'm being interrogated." He says, slightly moving away. "Especially when you look like that."

You bat your eyes. "Like what?"

He pretends to go back to reading to avoid looking at you. "I told you enough with the questions."

"Okay, one more." You hold up a finger.

He looks up from the book. "What is it?"

Your heartbeat quickens. You were probably more nervous than he was at this point but you had to say it anyway. No more chickening out like last night.

Now or fucking never.

"If I asked you to kiss me, would you?"

It was like you could physically see his heart stop beating. For a moment, it felt like time stood still. Even though he only took a few seconds to respond, it felt like a lifetime.

"Not like I haven't done it already so why not?" He finally responds.

You pull the book away from his hands and toss it behind you. "Okay. Kiss me."

He looks at the book discarded on the floor like you threw away his favorite toy. He then looks back at you. "Wait, seriously?"

You make an X over your chest. "Seriously."

You sit there, just inches away from his face and waiting painfully for him to make the first move. His hand slowly comes up to the side of your face, his fingers softly grazing your ears.

Just a few moments later, his lips are right on yours. It's a soft and gentle kiss at first, short and sweet. He pulls away slowly and the two of you look at eachother.

"Don't stop." You whisper.

He kisses you again. This time with slightly more energy as he slowly gains confidence. As he kisses you again, your hands travel through his almost dry hair. It was as soft as ever.

As the kisses grow more intense, you find yourself moving your body to sit on his lap. He's so consumed by the sweet taste of your lips that it takes him a minute to notice you're sitting on him with only a towel on.

He gathers the strength to pull away for a moment. "Wait."

You push him backwards so he falls back on the bed. Now he was lying on his back and you remain seated on top of him. He stares at you in awe as the towel around you magically grows smaller and smaller, more and more of your skin becoming exposed.

You lean forward to kiss you again but he stops you right before you meet his lips. "Are you sure about this?"

"I've never been more sure of anything." You say as you run your hands along his face. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No." He says so quickly that you weren't even done with the sentence yet.

You smile and lean forward again, pausing just a single inch from his mouth to tease him. "I wanna play Mrs. Kirstein for tonight."

He nods slowly moving his face forward to kiss you as his anticipation grows thin. "Whatever you want."

You continue to kiss him once again. It was truly so addicting. You were obsessed with the way his lips were surprisingly so soft and the way they fit so easily into yours. The feeling was euphoric.

You don't even notice your subconsciously begin to grind up against his bulge that was slowly getting larger the more you sloppily kissed him.

Since you have only a towel on with nothing underneath, your bottom half was exposed and the slick that was seeping out of you began to coat the tent forming in his pants.

Tiny muffled moans fall out your mouth as you kiss him even harder and move your hips at a quicker pace. You were becoming needier by the second. You didn't care how desperate you looked helplessly grinding up against the fabric of his pants.

The vibrations of your moans cause his hands to move around your body, well, your upper body. He was being "respectful" and only touching you above your waist.

On your upper half, his hand traveled around your neck, shoulders, arms and stomach. But they always missed your breasts.

You stop moving and pull away from his mouth, sitting up straight on his lap. A small string of saliva connects his lips to yours and you tear it away. "Can I ask something?"

The back of his head sinks into the pillow. "Another question?"

You wrap your hands around his wrists. Both of his hands rested on your hips, his fingers massaging the supple skin. "Why do you always touch me so much here?"

Jean looks at his large hands lingering on your waist. "I don't know. I guess because it's as close to you as I can get without it being too much."

His pale eyes meet yours again. "If you want me to stop, tell me and I will."

You lean forward again. "You can get closer, you know? You can touch me wherever if you want to."

"But..." He fights the urge.

"I want you to." You kiss him softly.

"You do?"

You kiss him again. "I do." You pull his hand away from your hip and guide it over to your chest. You place it right over your boob.

His eyes extend in size and his hand even flinches for a moment before he relaxes a second later. He was getting better at keeping his cool.

His stiff fingers loosen up and they wrap around your breast. His other hand doesn't take long to follow in it's lead.

You sat there on his lap and he laid on his back, arms up and hands massaging both your boobs now. It was like he was making a sculpture or doing pottery the way he carefully trace the shape of your breasts with his hands.

"Does it feel like this when have wet dreams about me?" You ask as you look down at him, a sweet smile on your face.

The color drains entirely from his. You could feel his body freeze up underneath you. "How..."

You grin and caress his face. "I didn't. I was just teasing you and you sold yourself out."

You grind into his lap in one swift motive and he throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut. "Just like you did to me last night. You should've known I'd get you back for that eventually."

He pushes you off and you fall to your side of the bed. "Is that what this about? Getting me back?"

"No." You sit up. "That was just a plus."

"So then what's the real reason for you to suddenly act like this?" He asks wiping his mouth and facing out the window. His back was turned toward you now.

You twist your fingers together. "Well... I need to ask you one more thing. I promise it will be the last."

"What is it?" He asks.

You knew what you wanted to say. Your brain already processed the question and sent it down to your mouth but it was like your throat refused to let it out.

Jean turns his head to the side to look back at you. He stares at you while he waits, the moonlight from outside shined through the window and made him glow. He looked almost like an angel.

Here goes nothing.

You take a deep breath and slowly exhale. And then finally you ask what you've been wanting to ask for what felt like years now.

"If I asked you to take my virginity, would you?

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