An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Title: Cherries for Christmas
Writer: @cinnamonskull
Recipient: @homoerens
Contents: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Fluff; Mistaken Identity; Drinking; Confusion; Naked Selfies
Summary: After taking the wrong phone home from the bar, a case of mistaken identity takes Eren on the wildest—and most unexpected—blind date of his life.
“Ughhh,” Eren groaned, slamming another empty glass down. He leaned over the bar and cradled his head in his arms, trying to forget inverse trigonometry and every single theorem in existence. At the moment, his own name was coming up fuzzy on his tongue, so all things considered it was turning out to be a successful night.
“That good, huh?” He could hear the smirk in Jean’s voice. His roommate had been more than willing to raise a little hell with Eren, his own classes having wrapped up a few days ago, just shy of the start of their holiday break.
“Just think,” he continued, and Eren could feel the sharp bones of Jean’s elbow digging into his arm where he was leaning back against the bar, “You could have been a writer.”
“Go fuck a cc-arrot, ponyboy,” Eren slurred, pushing at Jean’s elbow without looking up from his arms.
“You see?” Jean rapped his knuckles against Eren’s scalp. “That’s fucking poetry.”
Eren would have replied with a witty comeback, but the backs of his eyelids were spinning stars and moons, and that was infinitely more interesting at the moment.
Anything was better than Eren’s last semester. As a graduate student in a competitive engineering program, he studied, studied and studied some more, and had little time for much else.
He had Jean to keep him company at least, and as far as roommates went he was pretty chill. They fought sometimes—one particularly nasty brawl early on had landed them both in the ER for stitches—but they’d reached an understanding in their friendship.
It also didn’t hurt that Jean had pretty good weed sometimes and liked to accompany him to the local bar on nights when they both needed to unwind. Especially the first night of Eren’s freedom for a few blissful weeks.
“Is he okay?” Someone with a deep voice asked next to Jean. The sound made the lights shining under his lids fade out to darkness.
“He just finished his finals,” Eren heard Jean say. “Engineering.” As if that explained everything. To any sane person, it would.
The explanation must have worked, because the other person made a sympathetic noise followed by the sharp clank of another glass hitting the bar. “My condolences. What are you drinking?”
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