At This Old Coffee Shop // Jearmin

6. Suicide Kissed Scars

Armin's eyes fluttered open. He threw his arms above his head and stretched. Despite the moderate hang over, that was the best sleep he's had in a long time. Armin held his head, looked around, and realized that he wasn't in his room and those weren't his pants.

Naturally he had forgotten most of what happened last night, so he went exploring. He found Jean awake in the kitchen making breakfast. Armin leaned against the door frame to the bedroom and watched him. Jean's messy hair, tall, broad frame, and sleep kissed eyes made him to be the most beautiful guy Armin ever laid eyes on.

Jean lifted up his head and gazed over to the bedroom. "Oh, Armin, you're up. How'd you sleep?"

"Surprisingly well," he replied.

"How much of the other night do you remember?" Jean asked leaning against the counter behind him.

"Can you wait a few minutes before asking me so many questions? I literally just got up," Armin joked.

Jean shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not. Seriously how much?"

"Enough."

"Armin, I really want to know," Jean pouted.

"Fine! I know that I told about what happened in the car and that I kissed you," Armin admitted, blushing. "It's embarrassing, I'm sorry."

Jean walked over to Armin and kissed his dusted pink cheek. "It's fine," he said returning to the stove.

Armin softly touched his finger tips to his cheek. "By the way," Armin spoke, "why the fuck am I wearing your pants?"

Jean let out a sleepy laugh, "It was late and you didn't want to sleep in your jeans, so I let you wear a pair."

Armin's face turned a dark shade of crimson.

"Aw come on, you weren't that embarrassed last night," Jean winked.

"Don't tell me that we-!" Armin raised his voice.

A hue of red spread across Jean's face. "No, no, no, no," he waved his hands in front of him.

Armin let out a sigh of relief and went over to Jean. "What else happened?" he questioned, wrapping his arms around Jean's waistline.

"We cuddled? If that's what you're talking about?"

Armin paused to think, then spoke out. "After you're done making food, you wanna cuddle again?"

"Hell yeah!" Jean spastically finished making breakfast. He brought a plate over to the couch where Armin was and sat down next to him.

"Where's yours?" Armin asked resting his head on Jean's shoulder.

"I already ate," Jean replied putting his arm around him.

Which was a complete lie, Jean hardly ever ate breakfast. It was only on certain occasions he would. Also, he'd rather watch Armin enjoy what he had made. Usually his family complained about Jean's food, but with Armin around he had somebody who actually enjoyed his food and his company.

Armin finished eating, rinsed his plate, and placed it in the dishwasher. After that, he came back to the couch where Jean had laid down. Armin crawled under his arm and laid down in front of him. Jean moved his hand up further to place it on Armin's stomach, as he made his way up he discovered long, ridged bumps. He thought himself stupid for not being worried about it earlier.

"Armin," Jean said, his voice cracking.

Armin sat up worried, "What's wrong?"