AH YES. THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY FOR JEARMINS ON MY DASH. *rubs hands together* Jearmin, there is no pleasure without pain, any verse <3
NOW IT’S MY TURN CREATING NEW CONTENT FOR THE JEARMIN FANDOM I GUESS! *^* Thanks for your request, but I must say that I didn’t know right away how to write it because “there is no pleasure without pain” could be interpreted in thousand ways and I didn’t want to write anything angsty or bittersweet/heart-wrenching. So here, have some lighthearted modern AU Jearmin c: (Three sentence fic? Lmao my writing does not know of such a thing)
“I think my back is going to snap!” Jean, highly and utterly pissed, yelled it into the room that was occupied by other people as well, turning their attention to him and receiving silent pity from them as blood flooded into his skull massively with his head hanging upside down, his back arched like a bridge because this, or something called similar to it, was what the instructor had told them to do—bending their bodies unhealthily (so Jean thought) and keeping it in the air for at least one minute.
God damn it, fuck, shit, fuck, fuck fuck! The curses were literally chanting in a chorus in Jean’s mind because he wanted to be reminded by himself again why on fucking earth he had made that fucking ludicrous decision to join the fucking Yoga club that had opened recently around the corner of his living place.
With cruel pain coming straight from Hell to sting and claw at his joints, Jean couldn’t think of any plausible reason and while his head was displayed red like Devil itself had possessed him, he pushed out another growl—so earnestly filled with hatred and rage and self-loathing and the only thing Jean found good enough not to resent was the idea of leaving right there and right now. It was none of his business that people were interested in getting their bones twisted dimensionally and stretched unholy, but Jean didn’t have – didn’t want to – keep up with that shit anymore.
“You’re doing well, Jean.” someone cheered, and the voice of that someone had the ethereal effect of blowing every ounce of negativity and wrath that had claimed his mind out of him. The voice speaking was Armin—the Yoga instructor.
Armin Arlert. The guy Jean had coincidentally met on the streets not so far away from the Yoga club that had been opening that day and not so far away from his own apartment because it was on his way home that they had encountered. And before Jean realized it, he had began to feel attracted to that seemingly lean little blond, but now he bore more knowledge because Armin was a damn well-built man with a six-pack; but even more than that was the realization that Armin was a literal sunshine and blessing in Jean’s dull life.
Jean smiled laughably contently to himself, forgetting about his temporary aching body that had been a victim to his laziness his whole lifetime. “Just like this?” he said, barely conscious enough to take in his surroundings because there was no place left in his mind other than the mental image of the smiling blond face he liked to look at and his soft laugh. Suddenly Jean didn’t want to leave, but instead he wanted to have everyone else here gone. He desired private lessons and only he was allowed to demand that! At least that was how Jean would like it to be. “I’m doing it right, aren’t I? Just like this, right? Just like this.” To impress the instructor who he was crushing on so hard, Jean’s hips jerked to do some undefined movement, only to result in something in his back snapping for real this time. “Ouch! Fuck. No, this wasn’t right. Not like this, not like this.” Whispering that rather to himself, he bit his bottom lip as the already deep shade of red on his face swung to a crimson color because of the embarrassment.
He heard Armin chuckle (oh, how fucking delightful it sounded in Jean’s ears!) and then two hands were at his hips, repositioning them to a less hurtful place. “Yeah. Almost. Don’t overdo it, okay? You’re a beginner, so we have to take things slow.”
Even if this wasn’t what Armin had been talking about, Jean agreed to the fact (that no one had spoked out loud) that one had to take things slow in a freshly new relationship. Of course, of course.
With the one and significant difference that Jean wasn’t in one at the moment.
But soon that should change. Hopefully, his inner self whined.
He was doing all this just because he wanted to see Armin more. To talk more to him and deepen whatever relationship they had currently.
Taking Yoga lessons to ask the instructor out one day.
Jean sent Armin a smile; weak from the strains.
Oh, yeah, it was totally worth it.
