A/N: Wowzers I had more trouble with this than I thought I would, but I am really happy with the way it came out and I hope you guys are too.

Also, I know next to nothing about horses.

Growing up on a small farm in the outermost wall of Shiganshina, Armin was used to daily chores such as rising at the crack of dawn to help his grandfather water the plants (the Arlert family owned a small tree nursery and were known for their apples, and back when Armin's mother had still been around she had made some of the best apple pies money could buy) and then – after cleaning up, mind you – Armin would prepare a small breakfast of oatmeal and warm milk and though it wasn't the heartiest of meals, it what was what he made best. Besides, eggs and meat were expensive luxuries they did not indulge in often. It wasn't that they were poor; after all, they generated a fairly large profit from their orchard and they even owned a small vegetable garden, that while it did not garner much profit, provided them with enough food to last the year. In all actuality, they were – mostly his grandfather – saving up for something special. That something special would be a horse. Armin's grandfather had always wanted a horse – one could even go so far as to say he had wanted one since childhood – and one day out of the blue his grandfather sat him down and excitedly told him that they were getting a horse.

His grandfather had explained the horse was still just a colt and that the man would be giving him a good deal. Even to a twelve year old Armin, the whole situation had sounded sketchy. When Armin asked his grandfather why the man was selling the horse so cheap, his grandfather had just laughed and explained that the animal was a bit of a hassle and quite honestly his owner didn't want to deal with it. It sounded like a bad idea to Armin, but there was no denying how excited his grandfather had seemed that day and so Armin relented and agreed to cut back on food and treats and whatever he could to help his grandfather get the money.

It was a Wednesday morning, while Armin was preparing breakfast, that his grandfather ambled in – dressed in his best clothes and smiling like he was the happiest man on earth – and told him "Today is the day."

It had taken nearly half a year, but they had managed to save up enough money to finally procure the horse his grandfather had been waiting for. Whoever had owned the land they lived on now had previously had a lot of animals, as there was a small stable and the pasture area just outside the garden and orchard was securely fenced in. It was dusty from misuse and a bit weathered by time, but overall it was in fairly good condition and so Armin and his grandfather had slowly worked on turning it into a fine home for his grandfather's soon to be horse.

Armin wasn't looking forward to having to deal with an ill-tempered horse, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't a little excited. After all, they had worked so hard towards their goal and Armin couldn't help but looking at the single, hay-furnished stall and feel exceptionally proud.

'This is it,' Armin thought, as he saw his grandfather off – staying back to watch the house and double check that the automated water filter was working properly, and that the hay was top-notch, and that they had everything they could possible need; and honestly he didn't need to do all these things – after all, they had been ready for weeks – but he was just so nervous. It was finally happening. And he couldn't help but be very excited for his grandfather.

Armin was sitting atop a stack of hay, dozing off, when his grandfather came home. There was a neigh, followed by a "Woah boy," and then his grandfather laughing and looking ever much the picture of a child on Christmas morning as he walked in. Armin jumped to his feet and returned the thumbs up his grandfather had given him before allowing his eyes to fall on the – no, their – horse. It was a large horse – though what horse wasn't? – That had a golden brown, champagne colored coat and a chestnut colored mane. Armin might have thought the horse looked majestic, standing in the doorway of the barn – mid-morning sunlight streaming in and creating a magnificent back light that painted him in an almost magical glow – if the horse hadn't snorted and then stumbled over itself as he cautiously stepped into the room.

"It's not… brain damaged is it?" Armin ventured, but his grandfather just guffawed and roughly smacked the horse on the behind – earning him an undignified whiny – and went on to say the horse just had personality and that there was nothing wrong with a little bit of character.

"So what should we name 'im?" Armin's grandfather asked him once the horse had been led to his stall and settled in and gifted with a few carrots pieces to help ease his nerves and settle him in. Armin turned to his grandfather in confusion, eyes glinting in question.

"Why are you asking me?" he asked, genuinely curious, "He's your horse. It's only right that you would name him."

But his grandfather only smiled wide once more before playfully ruffling his hair – and the horse nickered from his stall and if Armin didn't know any better, he'd think the animal was laughing at him – and saying, "He's our horse, son. And one day he'll be all yours. Don't question the little things – just pick a name!"

And his grandfather looked so happy and eager and though Armin certainly hadn't asked for a horse and definitely hadn't wanted one, he couldn't help the warm feeling that settled in his chest that this horse was theirs – theirs and theirs alone.

"Okay," Armin agreed, mirroring his grandfather's smile before carefully deliberating on a name. And after seemingly ages, he turned to the horse that – having lost interest in them – was drinking water and asked, "What about Jean?"

Armin and his grandfather watched as the large animal's ears twitched in recognition and so Armin repeated, "What about it Jean? Do you like that name? Jean?" and the horse raised his head and turned to look at them, muzzle dripping with water and – Armin blinked in shock as the horse bobbed his head in a move reminiscent of a nod.

His grandfather cackled, and slapped his knee, "Well wouldn't you know it? Looks like he's taken to the name!"

And that was what would be the start of many adventures.

At first, Armin's grandfather took care of Jean the most – Armin shadowing him as he went about feeding him and brushing him and cleaning the stalls, before Armin ran off to water the garden and the trees, and then Armin would cook breakfast and from the window watch his grandfather walk with Jean out in the pastures, and he couldn't help but feel inexplicably happy seeing his father garner so much joy from taking care of a haughty horse. At night, tired from walking out to the city to sell the day's profits, his grandfather would settle down in his chair with a newspaper and a content smile and Armin would put the soup for dinner on a simmer – reminding his grandfather to check on it – before going out to Jean's stall and feeding him a healthy diet of hay, hay, and more hay. And if Armin was feeling particularity kind, he would give Jean small pieces of cut up apples that had fallen from their trees and giggle at the feel of Jean's mouth on his hand. Sometimes Jean would nip lightly, but not often and all Armin had to do was threaten to deny him treats and as if he understood him, Jean would nicker but settle down.

"You know, you aren't so bad." Armin said one night and Jean tilted his head as if in question and so Armin patted his muzzle and explained that Jean's old owner had thought he was a handful – a comment at which the horse snorted at and Armin laughed.

"That guy was a crack pot, you make pleasant company Jean." And when Jean neighed happily, Armin couldn't help but think Jean was either a very quirky horse and just very animated, or he was very smart and could comprehend what he was saying. But that was ludicrous and so Armin didn't dwell on the thought any longer.

"I think Jean's lonely," Armin's grandfather commented one morning at breakfast and Armin frowned at the prospect. Horses were very social creatures, but there was no way they could take care of – or even afford another horse – and there really wasn't anything other to do than to accept that fact. Still, after cleaning up the dishes and bidding his grandfather farewell as he left for the city with a pull cart full of apples, Armin raced outside to keep Jean company.

His grandfather made a point to let Jean out to graze in the pasture, but that time was very limited and so Armin figured he'd let the horse out for a bit.

"Good morning Jean," Armin greeted and Jean nickered in response, shifting in his stall in a mix of confusion and excitement, "Grandpa said you're lonely, so I figured I'd keep you company out in the field today."

Jean neighed in recognition and Armin laughed before patting Jean's head and opening up his stall. And as soon as the door was open, Jean was booking it out of the barn and running into the yard with a seemingly infinite amount of energy.

"Jeez," Armin muttered, "You'd think he hadn't just been out this morning." But well, at least Jean was happy, and so Armin settled in the grass and watched Jean gallop about. 'Tomorrow,' he thought, 'Tomorrow I'll bring a book to help pass the time.'

Hours later, Armin woke up to a nudge at his side and he groggily opened his eyes, absently wondering when he had fallen asleep, before allowing his gaze to rest on Jean's face, which was looming over him.

"I have to do the laundry," Armin commented aloud as he got to his feet, pushing Jean out of his personal space in the process.

With a bit of resistance on Jean's part, Armin was able to successfully lead the horse back into his stall, before setting about brushing him and grooming him. And because there was nothing better to do, Armin began talking about whatever came to mind. He told the horse about his day and even though he knew the animal could not understand him, and definitely didn't care, he found he quite liked talking aloud. It was a bit of a breath of fresh air actually. As it was, Armin didn't leave the farm much. Sure, sometimes he went out into town with his grandfather, or visited Eren – though he didn't do that often because Eren's father was a doctor and so they had residence in the more populated areas of town while Armin lived pretty far out. And sometimes, the Ackerman's would send their daughter Mikasa over with some home baked bread or a small satchel of rice, but other than that Armin was pretty much alone.

He didn't mind though, it wasn't like he felt lonely or anything – or at least that was what he had thought until he found himself spending his time with Jean and missing holding a conversation with someone other than his grandfather.

As time passed, Armin slowly took on more and more duties when it came to maintaining Jean's stable and his well-being. Not because he particularly wanted to, but his grandfather was old and even though he was all smiles, Armin could see how scooping manure everyday was burdening his back and so Armin took on that responsibility.

And before he knew it, Armin found himself talking to the horse more and more – from how his parents had passed away many years ago, to the misadventures he and Eren had used to get into. Heck, Armin sometimes found himself reading to the horse, as crazy as it may sound – after all, it wasn't like Jean was actually listening or anything like that.

It was on the year that Armin turned fifteen, that his grandfather fell ill. It had been a cold winter and even though they had properly blanketed Jean, his grandfather insisted on buying a small stall heater for the winter times. It was expensive, and winters were already cruel enough because the trees were bare and income was near non-existent during the cold months. Since his grandfather wasn't going out into town every day, he had insisted on spending more time with and taking care of Jean. Armin always made sure he was bundled up, and had hot tea and warm soup prepared for both lunch and dinner for when his grandfather came back inside and since his grandfather was with the horse all day, Armin curled up with a blanket by the fire and crocheted scarves and blankets and mittens and anything else he could make. Then whenever he'd completed something, he'd grab his coat and scarf and make the walk to Mikasa's, where he'd give his crafts to her mother for her to sell for him with their embroidery at the market.

It had taken some time, but over the years they had gotten Jean trained well enough to ride, though honestly they didn't ride him often. In the warmer seasons, since his grandfather had gotten older, they would hook the cart up to Jean and he'd pull the apples instead.

But Armin liked walking and even though riding Jean would have drastically cut the trip's time, Armin figured he'd let the horse keep his grandfather company and brave the cold by himself.

He arrived at the Ackerman's with a red nose and red cheeks and Mikasa's mother had quickly ushered him inside and offered him tea to warm up. They made small talk and Armin asked Mikasa how their friend Eren had been faring recently and after he'd killed enough time, he bid the quaint family of three farewells and made the trip back home.

It was well after four by the time he got home, and Armin could see the stable's lights shining and so Armin made his way to the barn to usher his grandfather inside. But as he drew closer to the barn, high-pitched squeals met his ears and before Armin knew it, he was breaking out into a run. He cut across the snow covered yard, heart pounding, and ears ringing as he wondered what could have the horse so distressed. The ice cold air bit at his nose and his lungs felt like they were on fire as he ran, but he didn't let it stop him and he kept running and running until he was pushing open the barn's door doors and was greeted with a site that made his blood run colder than the weather.

Armin immediately rushed to his grandfather's side, who lie prone on the stable floor.

"Grandpa!" Armin cried as he fell to his knees beside the older man, who was breathing harshly and shallowly, eyes squeezed shut and though his teeth were chattering and his hands were cold to the touch, his cheeks were flushed red and Armin was positive he had a fever.

But it was fairly obvious this was more than just a little cold and so Armin gently shook his grandfather's shoulders ,who merely grunted before breaking out into loud coughs, wet sounding with phlegm.

Now that he was here, Jean was squealing lowly, shifting anxiously about in his stall, and shaking his head over and over again.

"I need to get you to the doctors," Armin said, squeezing his grandfather's hand before standing up and quickly darting to Jean and allowing himself a quick second to pet the horses' muzzle.

"I'll need your help Jean, so I need you to calm down. I'll be right back," and then he was running out of the barn and pulling the apple cart from the shed. Then he ran back to the house and gathered as many blankets and quilts as he could manage before sprinting back outside where he proceeded to line the cart with quilts.

Armin rushed back to his grandfather's side, and with a bit of effort, managed to pull him into a sitting position.

"Come on Grandpa," he cried as he tossed one of his arms over his shoulder, "I need to get you to the cart."

But his grandfather just continued to cough, seemingly unaware to whatever Armin was saying and so the small boy grit his teeth, and with nothing more than adrenaline and desperation, was able to barely manage – albeit clumsily - to drag his grandfather's prone figure to the cart, where he laid him atop the makeshift bed before piling the rest of the blankets atop of him.

Armin pressed a kiss to his grandfather's sweaty temple, "I'm going to go get Jean. Wait for me." And then he ran back into the barn – Jean snorting at him, still shuffling.

Armin took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves before approaching Jean. If he was distressed, Jean would be too.

"Hey there Jean," he greeted with a false smile and Jean whimpered in confusion.

"There, there" Armin comforted, patting Jean's neck – something the horse particularly enjoyed.

"Grandpa's really sick," he said, loosely wrapping his arms around the horse's neck before resting his forehead against him, "So I need you to calm down so we can get him to the doctors okay?"

And then he just stood there, taking calm steady breaths as he helped the horse calm down. Armin's legs shook, not liking that he had to wait like this – honestly the wait was killing him – but Jean needed to be calm. And it took a few minutes, but he was eventually calm enough for Armin to lead him out of the stall and hook him up to the cart.

"Okay Jean," Armin said as he scrambled atop Jean and settled on his back, patting his mane once he was settled, "Let's go."

Armin sat on the Jaeger's family's couch, a cup of tea cradled in his hands as he sat trembling between Carla Jaeger and Eren. Carla had her arm wrapped around his shoulders, rubbing his arm with one hand, while Eren whispered words of comfort to him from his other side.

After a while, Grisha called Carla from the other room and she quickly excused herself, taking Armin's cold-untouched tea with her.

"Are you okay?" Eren asked, hands grabbing Armin's own hands in a soothing gesture.

"I'm fine," Armin croaked – though he certainly didn't sound fine, "Just worried… is all."

"Well my dad's really great at what he does – I'm sure your granddad will pull through," Eren said and Armin opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by huffs and snorts from outside. Armin sighed shakily.

"I'm going to check on Jean," Armin said as he got to his feet and Eren nodded in understanding.

"What's wrong?" Armin asked as he approached Jean, who was stomping his front hoof, seemingly not enjoying being tied up to a post.

The horse looked to be annoyed and distressed all at once and Armin approached him with a frown.

"Now's not the time Jean," he scolded, though softly stroked the horse's chestnut colored mane nonetheless, "Try to calm down a bit okay?"

Jean whined once more, butting at Armin's hand, when the front door of the Jaeger home was suddenly wrenched open and Grisha stood there stoic faced, with a teary eyed Carla by his side and out of the corner of his eyes he could see a wide-eyed Eren peeking through the curtains.

Carla was wringing her hands and Grisha walked up to him before resting his palm on Armin's shoulder, and the blond looked up at the man with wide eyes – Jean frantically shuffling beside him in alarm.

"Your grandfather has pneumonia," Grisha said, "And it's bad, very bad. He's been sick for a while it seems and it has spread to his lungs. And that combined with his age… I did what I could, but…" Grisha took a deep breath and Armin could feel his heart plummeting to his chest, "At this rate, he'll undoubtedly have respiratory failure. He's delirious, but I'd advise saying your goodbyes and waiting by his side."

And Jean's distressed squeal registered in Armin's ears before his own scream did.

After his grandfather died, life was hard for Armin. The Jaeger's offered to let him stay with them but he respectfully declined. Honestly, all he wanted to do was go home and curl up in his bed with his grandfather's coat or something else that still smelt like him.

It had been a struggle to drag himself out of bed that first morning after his grandfather's passing and he silently cleaned out Jean's stall, letting the horse run about in the pasture while he worked. Then he dragged the horse back inside, brushed him, and then re-blanketed him before going inside and making a breakfast for two. And when he realized his blunder, he sat at the kitchen table and cried into his hands for the better part of the morning.

He probably went on that way for weeks, going about his daily chores in a daze, each day just as monotonous and lonely as the one before.

And then one day, as he was turning to leave, there was tug on his hair and Armin turned around the best he could, with Jean's mouth latched around a tuft of his hair – lazily chewing and yet still managing to look particularly pleased with the recent development.

Armin pulled his hair from the horse's mouth gently, eliciting a nicker from Jean, before he was patting his neck, "I guess you're lonely too then huh? I'm not the only one missing grandpa."

Jean nickered again, looking pleased and with a soft, sad smile Armin started telling the horse about his feelings.

The summer of Armin's eighteenth year was a hot one and he found himself sweating profusely as he packed the cart with apples, Jean galloping about the pasture in the distance.

Armin gazed at him fondly, allowing himself a moment of rest as he leaned against the cart, mind drifting off to when they had first gotten the horse.

"He's our horse, son. And one day he'll be all yours."

Armin rubbed his nose, 'That's right. I guess Jean really is all mine," though he hadn't expected to inherit the horse so soon.

Since it was just them now, Armin had grown a lot closer to the horse – he genuinely viewed him as a companion. It was times like these, standing by himself on a farm too big for one person; Armin wished he had someone other than a horse to keep him company. He'd quite like to hold a conversation that wasn't one sided. He still had Eren and Mikasa, but he saw them even less now than when he was a kid. If he just had someone by his side to keep him company every day, that'd be nice.

But Armin shoo'ed those thoughts away with a shake of his head and then packed the last crate of apples before whistling for Jean – who ran over right away.

The morning after his trip to the market, Armin made his way to the stables at the sun's rising.

"Are you sleeping in again Jean?" Armin called when he walked into the barn and couldn't see Jean over the stall's door. He scoffed at the horse's laziness, and unlocked the stall door, opening it wide only to be greeted with a very naked man lying on a pile of hay in the center of the stall.

'Okay,' Armin allowed himself to think. He'd heard stories about people camping out in barns overnight, but it had never happened before. Not to mention, this person was naked and most importantly, Jean was gone.

Armin stepped closer, kneeling next to the sleeping guy to shake him awake, when suddenly the stranger groaned and rolled over, giving Armin an eyeful of—

"I can see your penis!" Armin screeched as he slapped his hands over his eyes and scrambled backwards, accidentally kicking the guy in the ribs in the process – jostling him awake.

"You're being weird," the man said and Armin gasped, uncovering his eyes again to see the brunet sitting with his knees folded under him, seemingly unabashed that his private area was blatantly out in the open.

"Cover yourself with something!" Armin yelled, trying to look everywhere but at that.

The guy just snorted, "What are you talking about? It's too hot for that. And besides, that's your job." He said and Armin's eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

"That's my line! And it's not my job to dress you! Who says that anyway?! And it's like six in the morning, it isn't too hot. It's never too hot to wear clothes!"

And now the brunet's nose was scrunching in confusion before he said, "Armin? Why are you saying weird stuff? Horses don't wear clothes."

And Armin nearly choked on his saliva, before he was whipping his head around to look the stranger in the eye.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, rapidly trying to come up with solutions as to what the hell was going on.

"Why wouldn't I know your name? We've known each other for years."

Armin frowned; this guy wasn't making any sense. If he stopped to think about, carefully putting every clue into perspective and considering all the options, the only answers he could come up with, were either A – this guy was crazy – or B – Armin himself was crazy. A small part of him, a really small part of him, considered the fact that the reason this man was in Jean's stall and had said some odd things, as well as knew Armin's name and claimed to have known him for years – was that, when all of it was added up, somehow, someway, this guy was his horse. But that was just crazy. And unfortunately the only thing he could come up with it.

"What's your name?" Armin asked and Jean looked un-impressed.

"Jean of course."

Well, that was one point in mystery man's favor.

"You look spooked," the man – Jean? – commented and Armin frowned.

"Could you tell me more about yourself?"

It wasn't the first time Armin had had a conversation with the horse, so this wasn't too strange, but at the same time it wasn't like Jean ever talked to him – not that he could. So this was new to him. Armin wondered how Jean's brain was processing things. Did he find it odd that Armin was waiting for him to answer? Or maybe Jean had always answered his questions and Armin just hadn't known. After all, there had been times where it honestly had seemed like Jean understood his every word.

As Jean – in human form - started rambling about his horse adventures, each story detailed and intricate and from Armin's point of view, very accurate – it became very obvious that somehow, someway this man really was his… horse. There really was no denying it – who else would know all of this?

The whole situation also begged the question… Did Jean even know he was human? It didn't seem like he did, as he was acting like everything was normal. Well… Armin couldn't really say normal, because Jean had never spoken to him before. But this guy certainly was talkative, and maybe Jean had been paying attention and participating in their conversations all along. It was really weird to think about actually. He had told Jean a lot of things – personal things – and it was weird to think that this guy knew all of these things about him. A small part of him was uncomfortable, but then he thought back to yesterday and how he'd wished he had a companion and so wasn't this just the opportunity he had been waiting for?

Jean seemed to understand English – again, something that seemed odd to Armin because didn't horses just speak… horse language? He shook his head, it was a bit too much to think about and he supposed he should just focus on the fact that Jean could understand him and that was all that mattered.

Armin sat impatiently as he waited for the – still naked, mind you – man to finish up his story before asking.

"Jean, don't you notice anything strange about yourself?"

Jean looked puzzled, and raised one arm to – presumably – scratch at his head, before he was pausing and looking at his hand for a second, nose once again scrunched in confusion, before "Holy fucking hell I have one of these arm things!"

Well, if that wasn't a sure sign that he didn't realize he was a human, Armin didn't know what was. Still, his reaction was kind of cute, in a - if he imagined horse Jean as a human, than he could totally see him responding like this – kind of way.

"You realize now why I was acting the way I was earlier then?" Armin asked, "After all, I could hardly recognize you like… this." And then Armin gestured to the rest of Jean's body.

"No way! Am I all human now? Where's my tail? Armin what did you do?"

"What did I do?" Armin asked, slightly offended that he was being accused of… he wasn't sure what, "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!"

Oh yeah. How exactly did Jean turn into a human anyway? This wasn't normal right? He hadn't done anything differently with Jean yesterday and he definitely would have noticed if the horse had eaten something weird.

With a frown, Armin got to his feet and walked out of the stall, "I think I'll go to the library and see if I can figure something out." He mumbled to himself, before stopping in realization. Normally he'd leave Jean in his stall whenever he went out on personal matters, but he really couldn't leave Jean alone now could he? Ah, but then again he really didn't want to take the guy with him either.

Armin turned around to look at Jean, who had also stood up.

He flushed, "Let's get you some clothes first.

"For the last time Jean, I'm not helping you get dressed!" Armin screeched, hands covering his eyes – much like he had done earlier – Jean standing in his personal space, thing just out and dangling and oh god, Armin had just looked at it again.

"But you always did everything for me," was Jean's response as he waved around a pair of pants (Armin's clothes were too small for Jean, so he was lending him some of his grandfather's old clothes and well, Jean would just have to go commando).

"That was different," was Armin's response, "Just put both of your legs through the holes and that's all – it's really easy."

Jean huffed (he had always been a bit of a sassy horse, and it seemed his human self wasn't much different) before there was a shuffling of feet and clothing, a few grunts and then, "Alright – I did it. Looks weird though."

Armin turned to look at Jean, who was standing, pants successfully on his body.

'God damn it,' Armin thought when he got yet another eyeful of Jean's cock, "Zip up your pants."

Jean just blinked at him and Armin sighed heavily, "Grab the zipper – the little metal piece – and pull it up," and then as an afterthought, "But be careful not to catch it on… uhm… your penis."

Jean followed instructions – with a bit of effort; it seemed he wasn't used to the whole having fingers thing – and once he was done Armin handed him his shirt and instructed the man on how to properly wear it.

Once that was done, Armin had him sit down, before handing him socks and shoes and that was just as much trouble as everything else.

"I guess that's it then." Armin said, feeling a bit proud of himself – and all he did was help the man get dressed.

"I don't see how you can wear this stuff every day." Jean commented and Armin didn't really have a response – wearing clothes was something he'd done his whole life, and he really didn't feel like explaining the many importances of clothing to Jean.

"Okay Jean, I'm going to go to the library really quick, and I want you to stay here. Please don't touch anything and if you get hungry, there are some apples in the kitchen."

Jean nodded, seemingly not minding that he was going to be left behind and Armin had to wonder if he understood just exactly what was happening.

"Alright," Armin said hesitantly, "I'm leaving. Be good." And then he was walking out the door and locking it behind him.

His research at the library was fruitless, but who was he kidding – of course he wouldn't have been able to find answers so easily. He was a bit put off, because he wasn't keen on the whole "leaving the question unanswered" situation, but he supposed he would just have to deal. There were more pressing matters to attend to, Jean was alone in the house after all, and Armin was worried the man would get into something.

When he got home, nothing seemed out of place fortunately, and he found Jean lounging in the living room munching on an apple.

"You're back!" he exclaimed upon seeing him, before he was jumping to his feet and Armin was already reaching forward to pat Jean on the head like he used to always do, before he was stopping himself, and Jean asked "Did you figure it out?"

Armin just shook his head, "No. I didn't figure anything out. So I guess for now we will just have to deal."

Adjusting to life with the "new" Jean was hard. The first morning after, Armin had gone straight to the stables to check on him, only to remember that Jean was in his house, sleeping on the floor. On the floor because Armin had tried to get him to sleep in the bed, but he kept complaining that it felt weird and that the ground was more comfortable.

It felt strange not having to take care of a horse and only tending to the garden and tree orchard, but he supposed it wasn't too bad. For the first couple of weeks, everything felt a little surreal and Armin woke up every morning and wondered if Jean was still a human.

At first, he kind of wanted Jean to go back to normal – his life had pretty much revolved around that horse for practically six years and so now that he didn't have to take care of him, Armin wasn't sure what to do with himself.

Of course, human Jean was a handful, but he wasn't so bad and he made nice company, and the longer he stuck around the more his personality grew, and by the time the one year anniversary of Jean's human form passed by, Armin could hardly tell the difference between him and normal human beings.

It was nice having another person in the house with him again, and Armin found that he had easily fallen back into the pattern of cooking for two and it was a bit like when his grandfather was alive, and yet entirely different. Jean liked helping around the house and Armin had thought maybe he would just lounge around all day, but in all actuality, he helped with the work and generally just made a good companion. It made Armin's heart beat faster when he thought about Jean and how he finally had a friend, someone close, to always be with him.

The more time that passed, the less Jean talked about "horse" things (and Armin had forbidden him to mention how he used to be a horse to anyone he met) and instead conversed with Armin about the people he had met at the market or how that "friend of yours is a bastard" and sometimes Armin wondered if Jean forgot that he wasn't always human - because honestly, Armin sometimes found himself forgetting too.

Before long, Armin stopped dwelling on those things and decided to let it go. For now, he would just enjoy life as it is. They had already fallen into a comfortable routine together and so why not just let it be?

"You're making apple pie?" Jean asked, and Armin jumped slightly in shock before turning to look at Jean, who stood in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and shoulder pressed against the doorframe.

"Yeah. I've had my mother's recipe for ages, but I just never thought to make it." He responded, before turning his attention back to pressing the pie dough into the pan.

"You haven't had any of this pie since your mum died right?" Jean asked, before making his way over to Armin and peering over his shoulder as the blond worked.

"That's right. I wonder if I'll be able to remember the taste." He mused aloud and Jean nodded in understanding.

"Any particular reason why you decided to make it now?"

Armin 'hmm'ed in thought, "Other than the free flour Mrs. Ackerman gave me… Not really. I just decided I wanted it. And I thought you might like to try some too."

Jean beamed at that, "Sweet. Mind if I help then?"

"Not at all," Armin shook his head in response, "Oh but wash your hands first."

"I can't believe your grandfather used to pull this cart all by himself," Jean complained as the two of them made their way into town, cart full of crates of apples.

Armin just laughed, "You're just lazier than he was, is all," before pausing to examine the cart. It was pretty old though, maybe it was time to get a new one. The wheels on this one were pretty rickety and Armin was sure a new one would probably run smoother.

"I have a lot of money saved up, we should get a new one the next time we come to town."

"You think we should?" Jean asked and Armin nodded, "Are we selling this one then? I'm sure someone could use the wood or something."

But Armin merely shook his head, "No, I think we will keep it," It was his grandfather's cart after all. Even though it would just gather dust in the shed, he wouldn't dare part with it.

Jean shrugged, "Whatever you say."

Sometimes Armin would wake up sweaty, because Jean liked to smother him in his sleep it seemed, and he'd wake up with Jean's arm or leg haphazardly thrown over him. He supposed he didn't mind though, and if it wasn't so hot he thought maybe he might actually enjoy it.

"Wake up," Armin said once the heat got too unbearable, his command just making Jean groan and hold him tighter.

"Don't wanna," was his sleepy reply and with a bit of effort – a lot of if actually – he was able to wiggle around so he was facing Jean, who took the opportunity to rest his chin atop Armin's head.

"We have to water the plants before it gets too late," Armin said and Jean groaned.

"One day without watering won't hurt will it?"

"It will hurt a lot. And if all of the plants wither and die, I don't want to have to listen to you whine when we don't have enough food."

"That's not gonna happen," Jean protested as he pulled his head back so he could look Armin in the eyes.

"Maybe not, but should we really test it?"

Jean groaned once more, "You're the worst."

Armin just laughed.

Armin didn't find anything strange with his relationship with Jean. They were friends, best friends even, maybe even family and so he didn't find it the least bit odd how touchy-feely they could be with one another. He didn't see a problem with holding hands or sleeping together or anything like that, and as far as he was concerned it didn't mean anything special.

But when, out of the blue, one dinner, Jean just suddenly leaned across the table and kissed him on the lips, Armin thought maybe he had seriously misjudged their relationship.

He was twenty now, two years had passed since Jean started living with him, and he had honestly thought that there would be no new developments in their relationship.

"What was that for?" Armin asked, a trembling hand covering his lips lest Jean try to sneak another kiss once more.

"Nothing much," was Jean's response as he sat back in his chair nonchalantly and took a bite of his dinner, "Just felt like it I guess."

"You guess?" Armin asked.

"Yup. I guess."

And that was that.

The next time Jean kissed him was after a hard day of work and they were both sitting out in the pasture, sweaty and out of breath. Just like before, with no forewarning whatsoever, Jean just leaned over and kissed him.

"You're all sweaty," Armin complained and Jean laughed.

"So are you."

And then they bantered back and forth for a little bit, and Armin wasn't sure why, but he didn't bother questioning the kiss.

Before long, the few spontaneous chaste kisses here and there turned into a kiss every morning and every night and again, Armin didn't question it – he didn't feel the need to – he didn't mind it after all and besides, it was pretty fun watching the pleased look on Jean's face whenever he decided to initiate a kiss himself.

On Armin's twenty-first birthday, the two of them – plus Eren and Mikasa – went out to drink, all of them older than he was. It really wasn't really drinking to get drunk, but rather social drinking and really only served the purpose of allowing him to say that he had done it.

Mikasa had surprised everyone with a cake – her mother baked it – and before long Armin was drunk off the atmosphere. It was nice hanging out with all of his friends – Eren and Jean actually getting along for once – and he found himself wishing they could all spend more time together.

After the party – if you could even call it that – Armin and Jean returned home and Jean started a fire while Armin made some tea to warm themselves up after the cold walk back. Once that was done, the two curled up under a blanket and Jean presented him with a present – the book set Armin had been eyeballing for a while now – and at Jean's prompting Armin read out loud to him, Jean resting against his side the whole time.

"I love listening to you read," Jean confessed and Armin paused mid-sentence to beam up at him. Jean shifted, so he was no longer pressed to Armin's side and was instead facing him, "I love the way your voice sounds when you read, I love the way your eyes light up whenever you read a line you really like. I just, I just love seeing you happy – I love that you're by my side – I love everything about you." And then Jean was taking a deep breath, hands gripping Armin's shoulders, "I love you."

Armin dropped the book in surprise, staring up to Jean in shock before he was blushing and looking at his lap, "I…"

"I love you too." He muttered after a moment and Jean sighed in relief, before he was gently grabbing Armin's chin and lifting his head up so he could look at him.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, genuinely concerned, but Armin just shook his head, laughing through his tears.

"I'm just really happy is all – I didn't think – I never thought that I'd have someone like this… like you." And then he was throwing himself into Jean's arms, who immediately wrapped his arms around Armin's shaking figure and began pressing feather light kisses atop blond locks.

"I really love you," Armin said as he gripped the front of Jean's shirt and nuzzled against his neck, "I really, really do."

"Me too," Jean said, "I love you too."

If you asked Armin, he could have never guessed his life would turn out the way it did. It was tough, and at times lonely, but he wouldn't change a thing about it. Not if it meant losing Jean. He wasn't sure how he had managed without the man, but he supposed there was no use dwelling on it. All that mattered was here and now.