*slapping knees* gUESS WHO HAS A MOTHA FUCKIN' ANGST PROMPT? This guy! So so so imagine middle aged erejeans in which they're getting older and Jean is still super scared that Eren will one day stop loving him (I'm going to draw a thing for my idea, but I may as well leave a prompt before it leaves my head)
Dude, this was so hard to write? I noticed Iâve actually never written from the perspective of a middle aged character before and I had to concentrate so hard to get into a fitting mindset? Anyway, I hope it somewhat worked. Thanks for the challenge!You should definitely show me your art when itâsa done so I can link it in this post!
The years had been kind to Eren. Itwasnât that theyâd flown by without leaving their mark, of coursethey had. But with every change, every tiny, additional imperfectionEren grew more striking and unique. The silver streaks in his darkhair suited him just like the laughter lines around his mouth andeyes did. Even the scars heâd collected over the years and yearsworking at the fire department were beautiful badges of honour hewore with pride. Not even the difficult years after his accidentwhere heâd almost died trapped in a burning building and developedserious Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder afterwards had managed toleave lingering shadows on his soul and mind. He still had nightmaressometimes and was uncomfortable in small rooms but heâd learned todeal with the intrusions that had gotten much rarer and look out forhimself in unfamiliar situations. Eren was strong andgorgeous and so full of life. He was happy. And that was reallyeverything Jean had ever wanted for his husband. To see him happy andcontent with the life they had built together.But at the sametime it was so much harder than expected. To have someone beside himwho was this vibrant and energetic and gorgeous, someone who madeeveryone around them light up with joy and fascination. Someone whowas kind and loving and smart and deserved so much better.Jeanhadnât aged nearly as well as Eren had. His hairline was thinningmore with every passing month, his eyesight had worsened considerablyover the last few years and his body ⊠well, all the sitting aroundat the office sure didnât do him any favours. Heâd grown thin andweak, fingers bony and knees knobbly, the lean muscle heâd once beenproud of melted away by long hours of overtime and laziness. He couldbarely stand looking in the mirror.But it wasnât just that. Jeanwas ⊠boring. He knew that. Of the hundreds of things heâd foundinteresting thirty years ago there was barely anything left. He wasinterested in work, which was a silver lining in his grey everydaylife. Then there were the handful of shows he enjoyed and followed.He liked good whiskey. He liked documentaries about nature andwildlife. He liked Eren. Besides that there wasnât much. He wasalso sarcastic and bitter about a lot of things. Politics, education,art. How any of their family members even tolerated him was amystery.How Eren could still stand to be married to him, anenigma.âMaddie called earlierâ, Eren said over the loudbubbling noises coming from the stove. He was preparing soup fordinner and busied himself cutting a few slices of fresh bread whileit cooked.Jean looked up from the article in his businessmagazine that he hadnât caught a single word of.âYeah?â, hehuffed, watching his husband across the kitchen island. âHow isshe? Still with that loser, whatâs his ⊠Chad?ââBradâ,Eren corrected him, one side of his lips quirked up and Jean rolledhis eyes. Right, Brad. Pathetic frat boy.âSheâs fine andyes, sheâs still with Brad. But she called about the loan contractfor her apartment? I told her youâd call her backâŠâ Jean grumbledquietly, mentally going over his schedule. âIâll ⊠call herThursday around lunch time?ââShe called me Papa, I think itâsurgentâ, Eren grinned. He was still clinging on to his image ofMaddie as their little girl the way theyâd first met her. Seven yearold spitfire and constant pain in their asses. They loved her dearlyand sheâd learned to love them right back. Twenty years later nothinghad changed, really. âAfter dinner thenâ, Jean gave inand got a wide smile in return, the way the skin crinkled aroundErenâs eyes now would always make his heart stop for a second or two.âThanks, darling.âEren finished with the bread and putthe slices into a little basket theyâd bought a few summers agoduring their vacation in Italy. âIs everythingalright?âWhen Jean looked up from his magazine again Eren wasleaning across the kitchen island, handsome face dangerously closeand studying him with that intense gaze. Jean swallowed and leanedaway from him a bit. He could barely open his mouth to answer whenEren furrowed his brows and shook his head.âDonât you dare feedme bullshit. Youâve been grumpy the last few days. Well, grumpierthan usualâŠâJean squinted at him even though the littlelaugh Eren tacked onto the words was quite disarming. But what was heeven supposed to answer? âCould you stop being so damn amazing so Idonât feel like shit next to youâ? Hardly the way to begin thisdiscussion. But was there really an alternative? Should he even talkabout this?Theyâd been over his insecurities time and time again.He wasnât a teenager anymore, nor an inexperienced freshman and itwas definitely too late for a midlife crisisâŠââm fineâ,he grumbled instead, eyes flicking back down to the pages he couldswear heâd never seen before.For a moment it felt like Eren wouldprotest, insist, press on. He knew Jean way too well and there was noway heâd accept this without a fight. Then there was a low,thoughtful hum and Eren pushed himself away from the kitchen islandto stroll over to the calendar hung on the wall.âWe shouldgo dancing Saturday nightâ, he said, his voice light and pretty.âIâm not on call on Sunday, soâŠâ When Jean looked over at hishusband his eyebrows were dancing and Jean always laughed.âDancing?â, he asked, incredulous. They hadnât been out todance in ⊠years, probably. âWhere, the community centre? Maybetheyâll let us play bingo before. But weâll need to take care to notthrow out your hipâŠâ Eren snorted but shook his head.âComeon, weâre not that old!ââWeâre ⊠pretty old, Erenâ, Jeangrumbled. He could already feel his stomach sink at the thought ofpeople looking at them, wherever they might end up going. Wonderinghow someone as lively and beautiful as Eren could end up with someoneas dull and ugly as JeanâŠThere was a hand curling aroundhis, tugging him off the bar stool, gentle but insisting.âNottoo old for thisâ, Eren smirked as he pulled Jean close. The way hepositioned their hands said heâd let Jean lead but the pull of hisbody showed the opposite, sweeping them around the kitchen andtwirling around Jean to a silent tune.Just like that the memoriescame back. Nights spent in dirty bars and clubs, sweating and slidingand spinning until sunrise. Then, later, ballroom dance at fancy workevents and weddings, at their weddingâŠJean swallowed, his chestpulling tight around his heart. He had to hold on to this, thisfeeling, this amazing man, and enjoy their time together for howeverlong he still could. Before Eren understood how pointless wasting histime with Jean was. Before heâd leave to find someonebetter.âSaturday night, thenâ, he forced out and Erenâsanswering smile was blinding.âI love you, you grumpy old manâ,he grinned as he suddenly dipped Jean. It wasnât as low as it hadbeen years and years ago, but his hands were still warm and broad,his body strong and steady. Jean felt his eyes slide closed.âLoveyou too, idiotâŠâ, he muttered and moments later soft lips pressedagainst his as Eren pulled him upright again.[If you enjoyed this story, please consider buying me a coffee <3]















