𝐓-𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝟐𝟑- 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 (𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔)

20

A/N: Lmaooo I really said 'fuck it' and finished writing smut at 5 am lmaoo. I would like to thank Hoizer for getting me through and helping me. His music is truly a vibe.

SMUT-LANDIA HERE WE COME (lmaoo no pun intended with the word /come/) lmaooo

Chapter 20: (SMUT)

Your actions mirrored one another as he crashed his lips to you. Kissing you as if you were the last drop of water in the desert. Savoring every bump of softness your lips could give him. And you pulled him by the shirt, while he grabbed both sides of your face. He hummed against your lips, while you nodded, pulling him closer before your back gently hit the wall.

His hands immediately traced your sides. Like two tree branches, Jean wrapped himself around you as you brought him down with you, placing your arms behind his neck. It was at this time that Jean accepted his fate: he was sinking into you.

You. Your skin, your lips, your neck, hair, hands, anything that was attached to you he was accepting. Jean took anything you gave him, a nod against his kiss, a hand massaging his bicep, or your hands in his hair. God- how he loved that.

When your hands were still in his hair, you suddenly pushed him back. Your lungs had been crying for air that you had been neglecting them all this time. As soon as you pushed him (gently), Jean stepped back. He, too, was catching his breath.

"Sorry." you feel stupid for apologizing. You don't want him to think you regret it, so you add, "I just needed to catch my breath,"

"No, yeah." He nods understandingly, "That's completely fine."

"Can we..." You point to the bathroom, "Can we continue this in a bit? I have to use the restroom." With widened eyes, he nods thoroughly. "Please," he says, motioning to the restroom, "Take all the time you need."

As soon as you close the door to the bathroom, you immediately stare at yourself from the bathroom mirror; hands pressed up against your warm cheeks, "Oh god." you mumbled, hearing the door to something close from the outside, "I'm doing it. I'm making out, I kissed him. We... we're doing something,"

Pulling out your hygiene bag, with trembling hands, you open up all your necessities: perfume, lotion, soap, anything that could have been of use. You almost felt silly, but your heartbeat in your chest and down under begged for you to hurry. Your heart ached to be back in his arms.

By the time you put some chapstick on, you hear the door from the outside shut again, "Just a minute!" you hear Jean's frantic footsteps scatter all over the house. From areas you assume are the kitchen, and the room, you too tried to finish.

"Okay!" you shout, "Is it okay if I go out?" After hearing Jean's response, you head out. He stands by the door to his room (the master bedroom). The door is closed while he has his hands behind his back. He tries to hide his panting.

"What have you been doing...?" you softly say, approaching him before placing a hand against his cheek. Cold to the touch. He apologies, but you tell him he doesn't need to.

"I..." Jean trails, "I hope what I'm doing is no indication that I'm pressuring you to do something you don't want to. I never had ill intentions to bring you here and expect more than your company, I'm being honest." he rambles on, "We can stop this, continue this, to any length you feel okay in." he sighs, "What I don't want is for this to feel like some sort of... appreciation effort." You shake your head, letting him know your intentions.

He sighs, "I feel...I feel like I'm never good with my words," he runs a hand over his hair, "With you, I either feel fully comfortable, or totally nervous."