Chapter Text
Here comes the night, the bedroom in shadows
Candlelights, I don't know where it's coming from
But I keep moving on
'Til the darkest thought makes me want to try these wings
Lost in the Shadows – Lou Gramm
Vampires don’t need to bathe. Everyone knows that. Unless they’re in a fight or get dragged through a graveyard by their hair, there’s nothing to worry about: no sweat, no stench, no unwelcome fluids coming out of their bodies. Easy.
But here’s the thing: Jean likes bathing. And showering. One could say it’s his guilty pleasure, but Jean has a rule about not feeling guilty over pleasures, thank you very much. He likes the feeling of having his skin freshly scrubbed. Of having his hair smell like lavender or oranges when he pushes it back. He enjoys the concept of freshness.
Maybe it’s because he’s been officially dead, or rather, undead for twenty years. Maybe it’s a hobby like any other. Either way, there’s no harm in it.
Unless there’s an emergency.
Like now.
Vampires and werewolves don’t get along. It’s not a stereotype; it’s just the way it is. Vampires, with their cat-like superiority, and werewolves, with their dog-like… everything. And even though adding oil to water usually doesn’t result in bloodshed, here it can have dire consequences.
Packs of werewolves hunt lone vampires for sport. They eat them, despite the fact that they consider their meat rotten and foul. It’s a matter of principle. In return, vampires drain werewolves of blood, using their ability to regenerate against them—to prolong tortures and play with their food for weeks, if not months.
There are, naturally, some notable exceptions to the rule. There are werewolves who seek peace, and those who only get aggressive when someone trespasses on their territory. There are vampires who keep away from werewolves, not seeking conflict, but also not interested in finding a way to resolve it. Maintaining the status quo.
There are even vampires who fall in love with werewolves and elope…
Which is exactly what happened when Mikasa Ackerman met that fleabag, Eren Jaeger. Jean’s clan still hasn’t recovered.
Jean hasn’t recovered.
It was quite a scandal, too. Having a high-ranking vampire like Mikasa abandon her comfortable life and willingly join a pack of smelly wolves… It was something unthinkable. If anything, it should have been the other way around, right?
Ever since Mikasa escaped, or went missing, according to their clan, Jean has become interested in werewolves. At first, he told himself it was because he was trying to understand his friend, to see what she saw and… And perhaps he ended up understanding her a little better than he had wanted.
Even though their fangs and claws could rip his ass to shreds.
Speaking of which, it might happen to him tonight. Because Sasha and Conny got into trouble, and Jean is the one who has to rescue them. Levi is coming too, along with his henchmen, but Jean is miles ahead of them.
His friends’ thoughts are buzzing in his head to the point where he can’t hear his own, but images flashing before his eyes tell him exactly where to go.
…were just fucking around…
…looking for something fun to do…
…wolf territory…
For Ymir’s sake.
Conny and Sasha are the undead definition of fuck around and find out. Jean feels responsible for them, feels like their older brother at times, so he’s sprinting now, right to the border of the vampire land and the thick wall cutting the abandoned metropolis in half. It was built by mortals in a desperate attempt to separate themselves from what lurked in the darkness, back when they didn’t know that those who came at night were already among them.
With mortals eventually forced to hide underground, clinging to their humanity and hoping to be spared, the city has become a wasteland, divided between the biggest vampire clans and werewolf packs. The wolves occupied the parts closer to forests and fields, while Jean’s brethren stayed near human settlements. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked, as long as no one was breaking the rules and visiting places they weren’t welcome in.
Jean, they’re here!
He curses under his breath as he claws his way to the top of Wall Maria. When he plunges into werewolf territory, his nostrils are immediately attacked by strange, intense smells characteristic of a wolf den. It’s not necessarily a bad combination per se, no matter what certain snobbish vampires would like everyone to believe. It’s just… different. Not worse than the crypt odor some of his fellow bloodsuckers are so enamored with.
He scans his surroundings, taking in demolished buildings and abandoned cars bathed in silver moonlight. Sasha and Conny are stuck on a nearby street, surrounded by a pack of six individuals. The growling beasts, way larger than any regular wolves, are circling them now, slowly getting closer. Their saliva-covered fangs are bared and their eyes are glowing, signaling the monsters’ readiness to feast. Judging by their tattered clothes, Jean’s friends have already taken a beating, but they’re still… well, undead.
Jean snarls loudly, announcing his arrival and drawing the werewolves’ attention to himself. He lands in front of them on all fours. His fangs are short, given his vampire age, but he is quite large, way larger than Sasha and Conny. The fact that his hair is still wet from the shower, and that his chest is naked beneath the leather jacket he threw on before setting out on the rescue mission, only adds to how feral he must look.
What he is going to do next, he doesn’t know. Hopefully, the werewolves will think he has rabies. For now, the stubborn monsters continue blocking his way to Sasha and Conny, their fur bristling in alarm. Jean can see their nostrils moving, analyzing his scent. They will soon realize that he poses no actual threat. He’s here to protect the younger vampires, not to fight.
He doesn’t stand a chance, that much is certain. No matter how strong and flexible he is, he won’t be able to fend off so many bloodthirsty opponents. But if it really comes down to it, he’ll bite one of them, perhaps blind another, and then he’ll start running toward Wall Maria. The most important thing is that once they go after him, Conny and Sasha will be—
“Let them be.”
Jean raises his gaze to see a man approaching them through the car graveyard. It’s fucking embarrassing. He was so preoccupied with the werewolves at hand, he didn’t even hear another one coming. That man must have been watching them the entire time. He could have attacked Jean from behind, and Jean wouldn’t have been able to react fast enough.
Judging by how quickly the wolves back down, making way for the stranger, he must be the pack leader. And he sure looks the part: about as tall as Jean himself, way more muscular, with golden eyes glowing in the dark even in his human form… And he’s wearing a fucking suit. Jean’s unhappy, but he must admit that what he sees is impressive.
Usually, he would be the one dressed up to the nines. But not today. Today, he looks like a tramp.
Jean laments his life.
First impressions aside, he decides to let out a warning hiss, to kindly let the pack leader know that he shouldn’t come any closer if he doesn’t want to lose his dick. Because Jean is still crouching on the ground, arching his back, ready to pounce at the enemy when the need strikes. He’s big, he’s dangerous, he’s—
The stranger raises the corner of his mouth in a smile.
“Take it easy, kitty. It’s alright.”
“What the fuck did you just call me?” Jean hisses again, making sure his fangs are visible.
He doesn’t take the werewolf’s patronizing behavior as a good sign. Jean’s not fucking stupid.
The werewolf in question walks up to Conny and Sasha and tells them to get up. Jean can hear his friends mumble chaotic apologies for setting foot where they don’t belong, but the stranger doesn’t seem particularly interested in what they have to say.
His glowing eyes are fixed on Jean. They’re like two embers, their warmth almost tangible, burning Jean’s skin.
“I’ll walk you back,” he announces in a pleasantly deep voice that has Jean grit his teeth.
That werewolf must be insane if he thinks they’ll trust him and let their guard down even for a second. Jean isn’t going to reject his proposition, but he isn’t going to thank him either. Anything that would come out of his mouth right now would inevitably cause the wolf to bite him in the ass.
The other members of the pack keep their distance. They can’t be happy with how things are going, but none of them dares to intervene or oppose their leader. Jean senses their anger, their quite rightful fury, but also their passivity. There’ll be no bloodshed tonight.
Finally, he straightens his back and retracts his fangs. He doesn’t blink, looking at the stranger intently—in a way that should convey several threats and at least one generation-long curse.
“Go on, kitty,” the man says, completely unfazed. “I won’t bite.”
And just like that, Jean is ready to take his head or die trying. But then he sees Conny and Sasha, still cowering close to the ground, and decides to have pity on them. They’ve had enough stress for one night. So he does the adult thing and swallows the bile of obscenities he wanted to direct at the werewolf. He tells himself the time for revenge will yet come.
“Move,” he growls at Sasha and Conny, and the fucking werewolf looks almost pleased.
Jean grabs both his friends by the scruff of their necks and makes them walk a few steps ahead of him so that he can keep an eye on them. He also makes sure to put himself between them and the pack leader, who’s following closely behind. Jean can feel his hot breath tickle his nape.
It makes him shudder for the first time in twenty years. Fucking hell.
He throws the man a sharp glance over his shoulder, and the motherfucker just grins at him. Unfortunately, he’s just as infuriating as he is handsome.
Levi and four other vampires appear on Wall Maria just in time to spare Jean the embarrassment of asking for the werewolf’s name. Ackerman shoots Conny and Sasha a quick we’ll talk about this at home look before turning to Jean. Jean just nods, confirming that they’re alright, and Levi brushes past him to face the pack leader. Or rather: to stand before him with his head raised at an almost unnatural angle.
“Who are you?” Levi asks in a dry voice.
“The name’s Reiner,” the werewolf replies, crossing his arms.
Levi brought Petra, Oruo, Eld, and Gin—his most trusted and skilled comrades—who now begin to surround the wolf without warning. Reiner. They surround Reiner, Jean corrects himself, and feels an unpleasant tingling in his stomach. He has seen Levi’s squad at work before. Reiner might be annoying, but he doesn’t deserve the fate he’s going to suffer at their hands.
“He helped us,” Jean says before something unavoidable happens. “He walked us back here.”
Levi’s squad remains tense and professional, bloodshot eyes awaiting a signal to attack.
“Please, calm down,” Jean tries again, but his words fall on deaf ears.
And yet, Reiner still doesn’t seem intimidated.
“You’re lucky it’s me and not Zeke on the prowl tonight,” he says, sounding as lighthearted as before. “He wouldn’t have been so merciful. But since those two didn’t do anything that can’t be fixed, I’ll let you go this time.”
“How generous,” Levi deadpans.
Sasha and Conny are hiding behind Jean’s back, probably more afraid of the scolding they’ll receive from Levi than they were of the possibility of getting eaten by wolves.
“Let’s go already,” Jean speaks up again, hoping to keep his voice even. “It’s just one hour to sunrise.”
It’s the vampires who broke the rules that night. And they should be the ones to leave first. But now that they’re in the majority, it’s of course a matter of honor to stand their ground and show the werewolf who he’s dealing with. It’s a matter of honor to scare him off.
A fucking pissing contest in the middle of no man’s land.
Reiner doesn’t cave in. He’s clearly in no hurry to go anywhere, instead taking his sweet, sweet time looking at everyone around him. Perhaps he’s memorizing their faces. Perhaps he’s planning something. Perhaps the night isn’t over just yet.
Jean doesn’t know what he fears more: being ambushed, or having to see Reiner die right after he helped him.
“What are you still doing here, you mongrel?!” Oruo loses his cool first.
“Looking for a wife.”
Jean would snort if it weren’t for Sasha, who gasps loudly as Reiner takes a step in their direction. Jean immediately moves to stand in front of her, leaving Conny to fend for himself. Sasha’s holding onto the back of his jacket, and Jean’s wondering whether he should show his fangs again. Because Reiner must be joking, right?
The werewolf stops right next to him.
“So, kitty?” he asks in that low voice again. “Are you interested?”
“Huh?”
Jean blinks. Once. Twice. This is the moment he should go off like a firework and tell Reiner to fuck off straight to hell, or whatever disgusting hole he crawled out of. This is the moment he should shove him off Wall Maria. But all words and confidence elude him like never before, leaving him completely naked and unprepared to take on the task ahead of him. He’s simply staring at Reiner with a confused expression that eventually causes the werewolf to huff a laugh.
“You look like that guy from Twilight,” Reiner informs him, gesturing to his naked chest and jacket. “But you have a cuter ass. And you’re way cuter in general.”
“I think it’s time for you to go,” Levi says in a grave voice.
He’s pissed. No wonder. Everyone knows Levi despises Twilight.
Reiner chuckles as if his miserable life means nothing to him and produces what looks like a business card from his pocket. Then he grabs Jean by the belt and pulls him closer—close enough for their noses to touch. And Jean lets him. Because why not. He also doesn’t react when Reiner smells his neck, inhaling his scent in the loudest and most obnoxious way possible, or when his cheek brushes against Jean’s, his stubble scratching Jean’s skin in the process.
Clearly, the fucking fleabag put a spell on him. That must be it. This werewolf is dabbling in black magic. There is no other explanation for Jean’s sudden willingness to be close to him. Close enough to drown in the liquid gold of his eyes.
“Come find me later, kitty,” Reiner whispers millimeters away from Jean’s mouth, sliding the card over his naked belly and right into his pants. “You won’t regret it.”
Jean should slap him.
Jean wants to kiss him.
***
Jean isn’t present for the scolding Sasha and Conny receive, but he’s sure he’ll hear all about it later. He’s actually getting ready for the retelling his friends are going to entertain him with; he’s changed into a comfortable bathrobe and fetched a flask of good-quality blood for supper when there’s a loud knock on the door to his chamber. Well, room, actually, but Jean prefers the word chamber. It has a nice ring to it.
Sasha and Conny never knock, so he isn’t surprised to see someone else in the corridor. It’s Oruo, wearing the sourest expression he could possibly muster, one that makes him look even older than usual. Jean can appreciate that.
“Erwin wants to see you.”
Ah. Crapbaskets.
The clan Jean belongs to occupies a luxurious building that used to be a hotel. Thick curtains, impenetrable roller blinds, fluffy carpets, and big beds make this place good enough for them—even if some of his fellow vampires replaced said beds with coffins. Just to be clear: Jean also likes to keep certain things vintage, but he would never do that.
He loves his bed. The bed he’d really like to be in right now. But, alas, he’s standing in Erwin’s office. Erwin Smith happens to be one of the oldest vampires Jean knows and the head of their clan. He’s definitely not someone to be trifled with. Under his friendly demeanor and calm exterior, he hides a very sharp and cunning mind.
Jean knows he wasn’t called to his office for small talk.
“Levi told me what happened,” Erwin says, and Jean does his best not to stare at his impressive eyebrows.
“I wasn’t with them. Conny had come up with that stupid dare, and that’s why they ended up—”
“I’m not talking about Conny and Sasha.” Erwin leans back in his armchair. “I’m talking about Reiner.”
The candlelight flickers when Erwin gestures for Jean to sit down as well. Shadows dancing on the office walls are long and spooky; it’s almost impossible to believe that outside it’s daytime already.
Jean furrows his brows.
“Reiner? He’s the werewolf that helped us escape.”
“I hear he likes you.”
Of course. Erwin doesn’t like to waste time. Pretty much like his husband.
“I told you to leave the kid alone,” Levi says, walking into the office carrying a tray with two wine glasses.
“We’re just chatting. Nothing to be worried about.”
“Tsk.”
Levi walks up to Erwin’s desk and hands him one of the glasses. He then takes a sip from his own and turns to Jean with bloodstained lips.
“You don’t have to tell him anything about your crush.”
“I don’t have a crush!” Jean announces, in what he hopes is a confident tone.
It’s not. Levi just rolls his eyes and takes another sip of blood.
“You smell like him already,” Erwin points out.
It’s a good thing that Jean can’t blush—not before drinking his nightly dosage of blood, that is.
“I don’t—It’s that business card he gave me!” Jean has it in his bathrobe pocket. For reasons. It feels like it’s burning a hole in the fabric now.
He places the blasted thing on Erwin’s outstretched hand and lets him inspect it up close.
“Reiner Braun, the Liberio Bar owner… It’s an invitation, Jean.” Erwin runs his finger across the golden letters printed on the card. “I’d like you to accept it. I’d like you to become friends with him.”
Levi looks like he’s about to spit out the blood he has in his mouth, but somehow manages to control himself.
“Why?” Jean asks like an idiot.
“We want to find Mikasa.”
“He. He wants to find Mikasa.”
Erwin sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. It seems he and Levi have been over this already.
“She’s your family—”
“I don’t care,” Levi hisses, pointing a finger at Erwin. “She decided to leave, and so be it. I won’t ask her to come back.”
“But we want to make sure she’s alright, don’t we? She’s still important and valuable to us.”
“No one is irreplaceable.”
Levi finishes his blood, and Erwin sighs again. But when he turns his attention back to Jean, he’s smiling once more.
“So. Are you up for a spy job, Jean?”
Befriending the werewolf only to get some information out of him shouldn’t be that hard. And it’s not like he’s going to hurt Reiner’s feelings by pretending he’s interested in him, right?
They’re big boys. They can handle heartbreak.