A/N: Hi there! If any of you reading this is a BB/Rae fan, please read my notes at the bottom. Thank you. :)

Jean locked the door to his apartment as he came home and immediately got into the shower.

He scrubbed the soap hard on his skin, hoping to remove that heavy, sickly-sweet aroma from that perfume she was wearing. Sighing, he eventually let the water run on himself as steam rose and turned everything foggy.

He just got home from a date with his new girlfriend. Well, actually, he had been dating her for a month now but for some reason, he just couldn't get used to her.

Well, she's nice and seemed really into him but there's a lot about her that irritates Jean to no end. Like the way she giggles, the way she calls him embarrassing nicknames "Sweet chumps" and that blasted perfume Jean keeps telling her to stop wearing because it could give anyone within 10 feet from her cancer.

"Then just dump Genna - no, Geva, Genova -"

"Genevieve." Jean sighed into the phone while pulling his boxers up. "But no, Marco. I can't." He gave his hair one last ruffle before dumping the towel into the laundry basket.

"Well, why not?"

"Because I love her," said Jean plainly.

Now Marco sighed from the other end, "You don't sound very convinced. Maybe you should just get back with your ex. I always thought you guys were the best couple. I think it's a mistake, dumping Ar -"

"No. It wasn't." Jean cut in quickly before he could mention any names.

"You still feel guilty about it don't you?"

"About what?"

"Leaving him because everyone else teased you about it. And also because there was that girl, Janet whom you cheated on and -"

"That was a dare, okay? They set that up so that Ar - he would misunderstand! And I didn't end up kissing her anyway, I almost did but I didn't!"

There was silence on the other end.

"Marco. The point is, I don't regret my decision, alright? I just need a way to put up with her ridiculous antics and you are supposed to help me!"

"Jean. Just accept it. You're gay."

And there it was. The reason for why he had been shunned from his family and taunted by his friends two months ago. Jean felt his anger rise, "No. No I'm not, Marco."

"Look, Jean. I'm tired of hearing you complain about your girlfriend everyday! You never had this problem with -"

"Don't! Don't say his name!"

"With him," Marco continued, "and I bet everytime you and Gen go -"

"Marco, you know she hates people shortening her name -"

"… you and Gen go out, everything you see, hear, eat, smell, touch reminds you of him. Right?" Marco finished.

Jean was momentarily stunned. He couldn't think of what to say and stayed silent because …

"It's all true. And your heart knows it too. So stop lying to yourself and -"

Jean dropped the cellphone from his ear and tapped the "end call" button before switching off his phone. He threw it across the room and heard it clattering on the floor before it spun off to a corner. Jean turned the lights off and pulled the covers over his head. He'll show him. He'll show Marco that he's straight and plans to stay that way. He'll prove it to the world that his past was just an innocent exploration of himself. All part of finding out his identity and nothing more.

With that thought in mind, Jean fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

He was glad the next morning was the weekend as he woke up late and felt strangely tired even though he'd slept for longer than any other night in the week. The first thing he did was find his phone and text Genevieve. He had to do it tonight. It was about time anyway. Jean had enough of being the only virgin among his group of friends at 24 years old.

Jean grabbed a random shirt and pulled it over his head. After stepping into a pair of jeans, he grabbed his wallet and made his way down to the convenience store.

There he bought the condoms and lube. He had already received a very happy text from Genevieve on the way down and knew that whatever happened tonight, there was definitely no turning back.

Jean walked out of the store and saw a massive truck parked right outside of it, blocking his path. With a slight prickle of irritation, he walked around it and emerged from the back. The moment he stepped onto the road however, he felt something small knock into him hard and he let out an exclamation of surprise as the both of them fell down onto the road.

"What the hell," Jean groaned, sitting up, holding his head.

"I'm sorry, I -"

Jean's heart practically stopped beating as he recognised the familiar voice. At the same time, he also knew that the other party had also realised who he was, judging from the silence.

Stupid. Jean continued staring onto the dirty road. He had been so careful to avoid running into him for a month, seeing that they lived in the same group of blocks. He knew his schedule from spending way too much time with him in the past. He knew that this was the time when he'd be jogging on this route. Jean knew all that and had been avoiding meeting him anywhere but he didn't think before leaving the house today …

The other party scrambled to his feet first and ran over to pick up the plastic bag and whatever else it had been carrying. "I'm really sorry," his slightly quivering voice rang in Jean's head, "I hope nothing was damaged …"

As his voice trailed off into a shocked silence, Jean quickly sprang to his feet as it just hit him that he was picking up the things he'd bought for tonight.

A part of him hoped he'd mistaken the voice for someone else's but he lifted his head and saw the boy's back turned to him as the wind blew his soft, blond hair, destroying that little piece of hope mercilessly.

He heard the sound of things being dropped into a plastic bag as the boy turned to him. He lifted his head, and Jean saw a red face and brilliant blue eyes that took his breath away, meet his own ochre ones before quickly glancing back down.

Jean turned red himself as he saw the boy's ear turned scarlet still.

"This is yours," the boy said softly.

Jean's mouth went dry. Here was his ex. The very person he'd successfully avoided for a month, dressed in an ugly sweater and sweatpants, his forehead covered in a thin sheen of sweat, emanating a musky smell and blushing madly as he held out a bag of condoms and lube. Jean felt his pants tighten for reasons unexplainable.

He reached out a hand to take the bag and it brushed against the other's. Electricity leapt between the skin and both let go, alarmed. The bag dropped to the ground again and Jean quicky picked it up before anyone else could.

"I - I'll going." The blond boy said quickly and turned on his heel, jogging off.

"Wait!" Jean said suddenly and though he had no idea what made him say that, the other boy stopped.

He stopped but he didn't stay and ran off again. Jean didn't have any words left anyway and watched as his petite figure disappeared into the distance in silence.

When Jean got home, he threw the bag onto the bed and flopped down beside it. Pulling out his phone, he saw he had about a dozen messages from Genevieve asking to meet up for dinner. He ignored all those and dialled a number quickly.

"Yes?" Marco said coldly when he picked up after what seemed like forever, "How can I help you? Were you looking for someone to give you relationship advice that you won't even listen to and hang up on when you're decide to be a dickhead?"

"Marco, please don't put down the phone," Jean pleaded, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for last night. I shouldn't have snapped at you and hung up and -"

"And act like an ass?"

"And act like an ass," Jean agreed.

There was a pause.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," Jean continued, feeling genuinely bad, "I just … I was just really frustrated and didn't think …"

"Fine. It's fine," Marco sighed. "Everyone says and does stupid things from time to time anyway."

"Me especially," said Jean. "I do it all the time. I should just be hanged for all the stupid shit I've ever done. Half, no ninety percent of the time I'm just messing up everything with my crap -"

"Wait, Jean!" Marco cut in, "I agree you are full of crap at times but hanging yourself? What's wrong, bro? You sound really beaten up."

"I'm dying."

"No, no you're not. What happened?"

"I ran into him. Accidentally. Just now."

Marco was slightly confused, "Him? As in … your ex?"

"Yes!" Jean exclaimed in an exasperated tone of voice, "That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

"Well," Marco replied calmly, "that's bound to happen one day."

"You knew about this? And you didn't tell me?!"

"No!" Marco said, slightly irritated. "You guys live in blocks next to each other! Dude, I'm surprised you even managed to not run into each other for so long!"

"I just … he - well. I somehow forgot he would be jogging at this time of the day. I can't believe I could be that stupid!" Jean slapped his forehead.

"And I can't believe you still know his entire week's schedule by memory."

Jean carried on, barely listening, "He knocked into me and saw what I had bought from the store and I just ... I just, well …" he was suddenly unable to continue. Was he embarrassed? Shocked? Why was he even calling Marco to tell him this?

Marco asked curiously, "What did you buy?"

"Condoms … and lube …" said Jean a lot more softly.

There was another painful pause.

"Jean. You weren't … you weren't planning to do Gen tonight are you?"

Jean said stiffly, "I can do whatever I want, Marco."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

Jean wanted to say yes. That he's always wanted that from the moment he started to date Genevieve. He wanted that and more. He wanted to marry her, and protect her forever. He wanted to dedicate and spend the rest of his life with her. He wanted nothing more than to love her for she was the most important person in his entire world.

He wanted to say all that but the words seemed to get lost on the way to his mouth and his lips couldn't form a single syllable.

Why? He asked himself, why was this happening? Why couldn't he bring himself to say it?

"Jean," Marco tone was a lot softer now too. He sounded like he had picked his words carefully. "Jean, again I say, there's no need for you to prove that you're something you're not. Please don't do anything rash. I've seen you with Genevieve. It's just not the same. I see you getting hurt even when you're with her. Every other thing reminds you of him instead. It's painful seeing you beat yourself over it when you should accept it and act on it. I know people gave you a hard time in the past and there was a lot of misunderstanding that happened but isn't it time you stood up for yourself? For the guy you are inside?"

"Jean. Please drop that facade. You may be able to fool everyone but you can't fool yourself. Why don't you try being true to your heart for once? I know you feel guilty at everything that happened but running away from the past isn't the solution. You have to face him, Jean. And apologise. Apologise with all your heart. You know you need him and he needs you, more than anyone else."

When Jean finally put down the phone, he had his face buried in his hands as he sobbed openly for the first time in months.

Jean woke up again, bleary eyed and confused. The room was dark and the last thing he remembered was crying himself to sleep. But what was his reason for crying?

As he prodded his memory even more, it suddenly came back in a rush and Jean held his head, overwhelmed by everything. Then, he stood up. He knew what he had to do.

Jean checked his phone. It was 7.30 pm and his inbox was flooded by messages and miscalls. The latest one read "I'll be there by 8." It was short and clipped, he imagined she wasn't very happy he hadn't replied her for a whole day.

He decided he'd call her to tell her.

"Genevieve?"

"Jean! Oh my god where were you? Did you get my text?" Genevieve's voice sounded kind of shrill.

"Yes …" Jean said warily, wincing at her voice.

"Well, you didn't text me back," she said sharply.

Jean swallowed, "Look, Genevieve -"

"Save it," she sighed, "anyway I'm on the cab and almost there so you can make it up to me when I reach!" Now Genevieve sounded much happier. "I'll expect a really great time …" she said suggestively.

"Right. About that …" Jean felt a bit bad but it was sooner or later, "please tell the cab driver to turn back because tonight's not gonna happen."

"What do you mean tonight's not gonna happen?" Genevieve's voice became shrill again.

Jean closed his eyes, "I'm breaking up with you."

He held the phone away as her voice became even shriller.

"Sorry. It's just not working between us. Let's stay friends."

"But, sweet pony -"

Jean had already hung up though and grabbed the keys, leaving his place before she could arrive at his doorstep and let the whole neighbourhood know of her misery.

He made his way to the next block and pressed the number 15 on the elevator. Soon, he found himself in front of a door. Jean raised a shaky finger to the doorbell but stopped just before pressing it.

He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing. He was however, like Marco was telling him to do, following his heart even if his mind was screaming at him to turn back.

His legs stayed rooted.

Making up his mind, Jean's finger touched the doorbell and he heard a familiar tune ring throughout the house inside. Then, he just realised he hadn't even prepared what he was going to say. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do!

It was too late, however and the door swung open.

"Yes? Who is it?"

He saw the blond boy look from behind the door curiously and become shocked as he recognised Jean.

"Hey." Jean said lamely.

The boy tore his eyes away and started to close the door.

"No! Stop!" Jean quickly used his hand to block the door. Then, he pushed it open again and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"May I come in?" He asked, then realised he was already standing in the hallway.

The boy now looked a little afraid at his forcefulness. "Why?" He asked, almost whispering, "You haven't been in here for a month."

Jean crumbled internally but he didn't reply. Instead, he noticed the boy's wet hair and his pyjamas. He had just showered. And he knew he always showered before eating dinner.

"Do you … do you want to go out for dinner?" Jean said at last.

"I've already cooked." The boy said, looking at the floor.

"Oh."

Jean shuffled his feet from side to side awkwardly. Shit. This wasn't what he hoped would happen. Jean felt incredibly stupid now. What was the point of showing up at his doorstep without a plan? He's only making things worse.

"Uhh …" Jean started, "Sorry. I - shouldn't have disturbed you. Please forgive my intrusion, I'll leave now." Jean turned around to door and turned the knob.

"Wait."

Jean waited, with bated breath.

The boy behind him asked, "Have you eaten?"

Jean shook his head, and dared not say a word for fear he might ruin everything.

"I … I cooked a little too much. If you want, you can join me …" the timid voice, almost a little shy, caused Jean's heart to skip a beat.

"Thank you."

And this was how Jean found himself seated at the dining table with his ex, eating home-cooked spaghetti in awkward silence. Jean slurped down the food, trying to look busy while the boy poked at the pasta with his fork, taking small bites.

"Water ..." Jean choked, getting up at the same time as he did.

"I'll get it -"

"No it's fine," Jean coughed as he walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water and drank it on the spot. He returned back to the table with another glass for the boy and set it down. The boy looked at the water as though Jean just made it appear out of thin air.

It just occured to Jean that he was way too at home here and knew where everything was, like this was his own house.

Jean sat back down at the table slowly, a little ashamed at how audacious he'd been; barging into a person's house and making himself at home when he had been avoiding the person himself for a month.

It's time to set things right.

"I'm sorry," Jean hung his head.

The blond boy looked at him, "For?"

"For … avoiding you. I shouldn't have. I was being a coward."

The blond boy smiled weakly, "It's okay, I … I couldn't bring myself to face you either after -" but his throat suddenly felt thick and he stopped, looking away.

"I've done a lot of wrong to you. I feel like a huge idiot and I don't know what I can do to have you forgive me, though you have every right not to."

The boy shook his head, "You did what you thought was best and I understand -"

"No, you don't!" The sudden outburst caused the boy to jump a little. "I thought wrong! I've realised a lot of things and one of them was that I should have never broken up with you - it was the biggest screw up I ever made in my life -"

"Stop!" Now the boy stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back, "What are you saying? I don't think … I - you, you're dating someone now, aren't you? I think you should go."

"Why?" Jean stood up too, "I just broke up with her."

"But weren't you … this morning I knocked into you …" the boy's cheeks turned pink again.

Jean shook his head, "I was just acting rashly. I wanted to prove something to the world … and to myself. But, I can't prove I'm something I'm not. You made me realise that this morning. I called you back instinctively but you -"

"I …" the boy stepped back, his eyes now filling up with tears, "it just hurts … so much …"

Then Jean walked over and pulled him into a tight hug without even thinking.

"I'm sorry for hurting you back then, for listening to all those people and for cheating on you. I'm sorry for hurting you by avoiding you and not being true to myself, dating Genevieve … I'm so sorry." Jean breathed into the boy's hair and a tear ran down his cheek.

"I, I …" the boy's voice quivered.

"I know you are afraid to trust me and I don't blame you but I came here because I want you to know," Jean voice got softer, "that I love you and I always will …"

He turned his head and whispered in his ear, "… Armin."

Armin's knees gave way at the sound of his name. It's been a month since he's heard his name being said from the person he has never stopped loving.

Jean held him up and supported his weight as Armin's arms, which had been hanging limply at his sides, now clutched at Jean's shirt tightly.

"Please don't let me go," Armin couldn't help himself as the tears landed on Jean's shirt.

"I won't," said Jean as he pulled back a little to kiss his forehead before sweeping Armin up into his arms, carrying him into the bedroom.

Jean set him down gently on the bed and to his surprise, Armin pulled him down to join him, curling up in his embrace. He buried his head into Jean's shirt, breathing it in as his hands found their way into his hair and his legs tangle up in Jean's.

"Jean."

The sound of his name being said so softly, so full of emotion, drove Jean crazy. Without thinking, Jean flipped over and was on top of Armin, his hands pinning down the other boy's wrists. Jean lowered his head and stopped, barely an inch away from Armin's lips.

Armin felt Jean's breath on him as his heart pounded in his ears. He didn't make the slightest movement or speak, and just stared, fixated on Jean. Jean's skin prickled as they breathed quietly together, feeling every muscle straining from the tension. Whatever happened tonight, he reminded himself, there was definitely no turning back.

Finally, Jean closed his eyes as their lips met. It had been a month. A month since he had felt those lips, as soft as rose petals, on him. As he deepened the kiss with tongue, he could taste spaghetti, traces of chocolate and an innocence which made him burn madly with an almost savage desire.

When they broke, Armin was panting hard.

"You have to breathe," said Jean as he laughed nervously. He also pulled his shirt off, feeling warm and sweaty already.

Before Armin could respond, Jean brought his lips down again and continued kissing him. This time though, he also traced his mouth along the jawline, leaving kisses down his neck as Armin's breath hitched sharply.

Jean was now at his collarbone and the small body trembling under him was making his pants feel even tighter than ever. He wanted to make Armin his now, more than ever. His fingers started to unbutton the pyjama top but Jean stopped before he could lose himself completely.

"Armin …" he breathed heavily. "Are you okay with … this?"

His blue eyes somehow managed to shine in the dark, they stared straight at him, moist but clear. "Y, yes …"

With the consent given, Jean unbuttoned the rest and pulled off the shirt, discarding it along with the bottom. This exposed his slender shoulders and the soft curves of his equally slender figure. Jean let the fingertips of his right hand trace down his shoulder to the stomach.

Soft. Jean thought as he stroked his arms. So soft.

Armin jolted as Jean's lips covered his right nipple. He started to lick it as Jean's right hand toyed with the left. Armin face was flushed and his breath was ragged. His skin reacted to every small touch, flick, and caress. Armin's breathing became even more irregular as small gasps and muffled moans escaped from his lips. He arched, his knees coming up, brushing against Jean's rock-hard erection.

Jean, looking quite delirious now, stopped sucking and turned his attention to Armin's lower half. He put his hand on the crotch as the boy yelped in surprise. Jean was pleased to find that he was hard too and began massaging. Soon, his hand slipped under his flannel pants and Armin let out a sharp cry of pleasure.

Embarrassed, Armin brought his arms up to cover his face and his mouth.

Jean pulled off the pants along with his own jeans and boxers. He flipped Armin onto his back, pulling up his butt and started to lick in between the cheeks while his hands continued working on on Armin's erection.

Armin squirmed, moaning lewdly under him, as Jean's fingers pulled the foreskin back, rubbing the head. Armin tried to keep his knees from buckling as he succumed to the waves of pleasure. It wasn't long until he pre-cummed, and Jean used that to rub up and down his length while Armin felt dizzier by the second. Jean started prodding his tongue and fingers into his opening as Armin clenched and squeezed him, the wet sounds adding to the building pleasure, almost begging for release.

When Jean lifted his head and stopped his fingers, Armin protested in incoherent sentences.

Wordlessly, Jean put himself at Armin's entrance and he could feel him tense up.

"Hey …" Jean leaned forward to touch his shoulder, "relax for me."

Then, he rubbed himself up and down Armin's ass, moaning softly, before slowly inserting it in.

Armin's arms completely collapsed, "Pain … painful, Jean ..."

Jean continued slowly, as gently as possible, soon the entire length was in and he waited for Armin to adjust himself.

When Armin gave the okay, Jean started to rock his hips slowly and Armin buried his head into the blankets, feeling the pain from the friction, burn. But quickly, this was turning into a sweet pleasure that enveloped his entire body. Armin's vision blurred with tears as he began to moan along with Jean.

"Hnng .. ahh, ah!"

Jean was starting to lose the steady, slow rhythm he started out with and his thrusts became faster and erratic. "Fuck," he grunted, grabbing Armin's wet and sensitive cock, jerking it hard. Armin's moaning became higher and louder as Jean quickly reached his climax.

"Armin!" Jean came, moaning his name.

Armin came too, at the sound of his name and Jean's hand slowed until it finally came to a stop for Armin to ride out his orgasm.

Jean pulled out of Armin carefully then slumped on the bed, dragging the other boy down with him. They cuddled, their sweat mixing with each other and their breathing overlapping.

Finally, they both reached a steady heartbeat, synchronised with one another. Armin pulled himself closer yet, to Jean.

"Next time …" he said sleepily, "I top …"

Jean laughed tiredly, nuzzling into Armin's hair, "We'll see about that."

"And Jean …"

"Hmm?"

"Say my name more often …"

Jean pulled the blankets over the both of them and just before they both fell asleep, he whispered a promise he sweared he'll keep forever. "I'll say it a hundred times everyday for the rest of our lives."

A/N: Hi everyone! Nice to be back in the community again, after a long, long, time. A lot of things have changed however, and I regret to say I'm not writing for BB/Rae anymore. But that pairing, I will forever ship and hold close to my heart. :') I do hope that Jearmin fans will enjoy this fic, though. It's obviously my first lemon and the most explicit thing I've ever wrote. I apologise if it was awkward in any parts ... (I'm really embarrassed after writing this)