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Chapter Text

From the corner of his eye, Eren can see his other friends trotting down the path faster and it settles one terrified part of him — rescuing Armin would be much harder if literally everyone started slipping and sliding down the hill. 

The rest of his focus is on snagging one of the roots sticking out of the ground to slow his fall before he slips into the river with Armin. He just barely saw the blond boy fall into the river a moment before and now it’s all he can do to remind himself that it wouldn’t help to jump headfirst into the rapid stream to try and rescue him. He instead rushes up to his feet and races down the riverbank to try and catch up with Armin. 

He can see the boy’s head bobbing up and down in the water and he’s sick with fear at the sight. Armin’s not a bad swimmer — but he’s tired, it’s been raining nonstop — and the boy is probably exhausted . 

Fuck, don’t drown Armin! Don’t you dare fucking drown on me!  

Eren pushes himself faster, needing to get ahead of Armin so he can snag the boy out of the stream. He runs until he reaches a few large rocks that span the river and bounds over them to the other side, toward which Armin is steadily drifting. He’s shouting out too, hoping that between the roaring of the rapids and the thunderous howling of the wind and rain, Armin might hear his voice and know he’s nearby. 

“Hold on! I’m coming, Armin! Just fuck — hold on! ” 

The river rushes so loudly that Armin can barely hear Eren’s voice over the deafening roaring and hissing. But he knows that Eren must be somewhere nearby if he can hear him at all. Armin’s lungs and muscles are burning, but he wills himself to keep kicking, keep pushing — if he can just keep his head above the water for one more moment —

Right when Armin feels his freezing, exhausted limbs start to give out on him, two strong hands latch onto his body and drag him roughly out of the river. He hits the ground with a wet thud, coughing muddy water out of his lungs before he can take his first decent breath in what feels like forever. When he opens his eyes, he finds Eren staring down at him with an expression of relief so vivid it’s nearly painful.

“Armin, can you breathe?” Eren asks in a rush, rolling Armin onto his side to thump his back and try to get the river water out of him. 

Armin curls into himself; in between coughs that shake his whole body, he draws in shaky, gasping breaths. “Y-yes,” he stammers weakly, “I… I’m… Sina…” He covers his face with both hands, sniffling into them as tears mix with the river water that streams down his face.

Armin’s voice is the last bit of reassurance Eren needs to let go of that heart-crushing terror. He moves to envelop the boy in a tight hug, probably making it harder for Armin to catch his breath, but he desperately needs the reassurance that the boy is safe. “You’re fine… fuck… you’re fine, Minnie. I got you.”

Armin buries his face in Eren’s chest, tightly clutching the boy’s shirtfront as he sobs loudly into it. “I’m sorry, Eren! I’m so sorry! I — are you hurt? You shouldn’t have jumped down the cliff like that! Where are —”

“Armin!” Eren doesn’t expect his voice to come out with a laugh but it does, and perhaps it’s just the leftover adrenaline or something else entirely… but he cups Armin’s face and… and… 

Sina, he almost kisses Armin —

It takes considerable self-control for Eren to instead simply close his eyes and gather his wits back before urging Armin to look at him. “We’re fine. Everyone will be fine. We need to focus on getting you somewhere dry before you seriously get sick.” 

“Mm… y-you’re right…” Armin labors to push himself upright — he’s worried Eren and the others more than enough with his clumsiness tonight, so he needs to show Eren that he’s at least got enough strength to get to his feet on his own. He ignores the persistent trembling of his legs, panting rapidly as he hugs himself in a vain attempt to warm his painfully frigid body.

Eren watches the blond struggle to his legs from his position on the ground, and only once he’s assured that Armin can stand, does he stand himself. He easily wraps one arm around Armin’s waist while slinging one of the boy’s arms over his shoulders, supporting his weight.

“Do you know if there’s a good cave system near here? Or at least a spot where the cliff kinda covers us from the rain? I’ve only got my sleeping mat with me here, the tent supplies are on the horses — oh ugh, and yours are probably soaked.” 

Armin’s grip on Eren’s shoulder tightens; he makes himself take a slow, deep breath to keep from panicking. “I don’t even have my maps on me…”

But he did spend hours today copying the lay of the land three times over. Armin shuts his eyes and tries to visualize it…

“Wait — I think there should be a few caves nearby,” he utters hesitantly. “We’d have to go a little bit further downstream, though, and into the forest…”

“Right — okay, hold on.” Eren adjusts his grip on Armin and starts walking them towards the forest edge down the river. He can feel Armin shivering in his arms and knows that it’s only a matter of time before those shivers become far worse. 

He picks up his pace a little, almost dragging the blond with him, until they are able to get under the first few trees where the wind isn’t quite as strong and the rain doesn’t sting as painfully. 

But, while Eren’s generally good with directions, he’s not sure where to go from here — he hadn’t been paying as much attention to their surroundings at this point in their journey and has to struggle to remember where the cliff-faces were. “Uh — which way, Armin?”

“We just entered the forest… s-so we should be facing — facing the west…” The caves are a little northwest of here, Armin notes from his mental image of the map. He weakly nudges Eren towards the right, stumbling a bit when his shuddering legs nearly give out from under him. “This way,” he whispers after catching his breath. “And f-forward.”

Eren grits his teeth, worry gnawing at him like a persistent dog, and he shuffles them in the direction Armin pointed out. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long before the looming gray cliffs start to poke out from the trees, and it takes less time for Eren to spot the multitude of caves and hollows within the cliff-faces. 

He goes for the first one that looks big enough to fit them while being small enough to actually provide some shelter. The wind is almost instantly cut off the moment they enter the dark alcove, and the rain is thankfully absent as well. Eren gently guides Armin down to the floor and pulls off his backpack, setting it down as well before moving to unburden his friend. 

“How’re you feeling — can you still wiggle your toes and fingers?” he asks, only half-joking. 

After crumpling to the ground, Armin stretches his arms out in front of himself and slowly flexes his fingers a few times. “Yeah, I’m good,” he mutters, and he pushes the hood of his cloak off his head. “Now that w-we have shelter I should… I should dry off soon…”

Eren tosses off his own cloak, setting it dry side up on the ground as a makeshift blanket for Armin to sit on. He looks at the blond and gives him a cheeky smile. “You remember basic training Armin; c’mon no time to be shy — strip it all off!” 

Armin cringes and blushes at Eren’s phrasing, his fingers fumbling with the fabric of the cloak as he sheds it. “Wh-why do you insist on making this weird, Eren?”

“Weird?” Eren parrots, but his grin doesn’t quite leave his face. He’s removing his boots and emptying them of the water that somehow managed to slip inside, but his mind feels just a little frazzled by the implication Armin made. “C’mon it’s nothing I haven’t seen before, ‘Min…” he teases. “D’ya want me to strip too so we’re even?”

“Eren, be serious!” Armin shouts a little too loudly; his blush spreads over his whole face now, further betraying his flustered emotional state. Armin makes quick work of throwing off his jacket and shirt, before Eren’s teasing can rob him of all his nerve. 

Eren can’t quite stop his giggling, even as he feels a very different kind of feeling bubble up in his stomach. He forces himself to turn away and focus on opening up his backpack, seeking out the rough blankets that are standard-issue for trips like these. They aren’t particularly soft, but they’re warm. He sets them aside for the moment before digging in deeper to see if he has any flint and steel and tinder to start a fire. 

“Damn it — I don’t have any tinder. Used it for the fire last night. Ugh, and yours is definitely soaked.” He gets up and starts taking off his shirt; the wet cloth is luckily not as soaked as Armin’s clothes, but it is still uncomfortably damp. 

Armin frowns as he tugs his boots off. “So we only have th-those blankets for warmth? And…” The words get trapped in Armin’s throat; he swallows them as his eyes trace the contours of Eren’s exposed chest and abdomen… Walls, sometimes it frustrates him how effortlessly attractive Eren can be.

Eren turns around at Armin’s cut-off sentence, worried that the boy is too cold to talk properly. He sees instead that Armin is focusing very intently on a certain spot on the ground and that his face is a very dark red. 

The boy is also shirtless, and his pretty pink nipples are hard from the cold. 

That bubbling sensation returns in full force and Eren feels almost bad for how suddenly he wants to help Armin get fully undressed. He knows himself well enough to admit that it’s not an altruistic motive at all. 

Tentatively, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers — they’re wet too and it would be beneficial if no wet clothes were present under the dry blankets; that would rather defeat the purpose of getting them both dry and warm. 

“Uh — Armin?” Eren hates that his voice sounds a little breathy. “Would you — is it okay if I take off my pants?”

Armin gasps sharply; the sound of his name jolts him from his daze. “Oh — um — uh… y-yes, that’s fine,” he stutters, butterflies swarming his stomach. “They’re soaked, right? So… you shouldn’t keep them on…”

It’s the reasonable thing to say in a situation like this, but Armin’s heart still races as the words leave his lips. He shifts his gaze back to the ground and timidly reaches for his belt to unclasp it. “I’ll do the same…”

“Yeah — okay, um… good.” Eren presses down and lets his pants slip to the cold stone under his feet — his underwear is mostly dry, but he’s not quite sure he should take those off. 

There’s a part of him that he’s been ignoring that is currently shaking with fear. It’s not even been two weeks since that rather heated night where he shared a bed with Armin — and yet the memory burns hot in Eren’s stomach. 

He hadn’t told Jean, obviously. For starters, he didn’t need his boyfriend getting a bigger ego than he already has — telling Jean that he basically boasted about his attempt at fingering Eren felt like a sure-fire way of getting that boy right back up on his high horse. But perhaps the more damning reason is that — Eren was aroused that night. He was aroused and very nearly did something about that with Armin.

And however kind and understanding Jean has been with Eren’s strange relationships to Mikasa and Armin, there’s a line somewhere — and Eren’s rather afraid that he crossed it, or at least toed it, that night. 

The same nervous energy and strange mix of guilt and excitement is stirring in Eren’s stomach right now, twisting his guts into knots and lodging something in his throat that makes it very hard to speak. But he’s gotta try — silence is more damning than whatever words he might spit out. “Get under the blankets as soon as you’re undressed and um… maybe take off your underwear — yours are probably soaked through.”

Armin’s heart skips a beat, and he momentarily forgets to finish sliding his pants off his legs. Eren has a point, he knows that, but there is so much anxious, electric energy rushing through his body that he’s terrified to expose what it’s doing to him...

His throat is too dry for him to trust that his voice will carry, so Armin nods at Eren instead before crawling over to the blankets and wrapping one fully around his body. Only then does he carefully slide his underwear off and toss it to the side, hugging his knees to his chest as his body trembles worse than before.

Eren takes far too much time laying out his clothes on the ground, and then takes even more time moving to grab Armin’s clothes and twisting the water out of them in a corner. He’s very quiet and he feels like it’s very noticeable. 

He pulls in a shaky breath and lays Armin’s clothes flat on the ground as well. “Well… they’re probably not gonna get dry. But at least they can’t get any more wet.” 

Armin laughs softly, just to fill the crackling void of silence in the cave with something. It’s never a good sign when Eren runs out of words — that usually means the boy is thinking very risky thoughts. And Armin is in no state to entertain such thoughts while he’s saddled with his own dangerous imaginings. 

The blanket’s rough fabric scratches at his skin as he pulls it even tighter around himself, and he wants nothing more than for Eren to quit messing with their clothes already and get under the blanket with him. He knows his skin will feel so much softer and warmer pressed up against his own… 

Sina, the longer he looks at Eren, the more Armin wants to run his hands all over the boy’s body. The mere effort of suppressing those desires makes him dizzy. He shuts his eyes and focuses on breathing — in and out, slowly. He needs to be calm once Eren comes closer, so he doesn’t do or say anything that he’ll regret later. No matter how damn tempting it is now.

Eren sighs, noticing in a strangely distant way that his hands are shaking a little. He dismisses it as a result of being fucking cold and almost fully naked. It takes considerable effort to take those four steps up to where Armin sits shivering under the blankets. And even then, he feels nervous to go under the blanket — to feel Armin’s bare skin icy cold against where he feels like he’s burning up. So he makes a compromise and sits behind Armin: legs bracketing the boy, squeezing his chest up flush against Armin’s back while wrapping his arms tight around the boy’s arms and chest, and finally, burying his nose into the wet blond hair. “Is — is this okay?”

“Mhm.” Armin leans back into Eren’s embrace, smiling and sighing contentedly as the blanket warms between their bodies. It’s so nice and comforting, but Armin has to admit that this is not the move he’d expected Eren to make. 

He’s used to being the one who has to steer Eren away from making inappropriate advances, and here he is, clearly hoping for his friend to toe that line more than Eren even wants to. It all feels concerningly backwards.

Armin has to put his mind on something else, and fast. He knows that Eren can’t see it, but he still pulls the blanket up to hide the darkening blush on his face. “I… I never properly thanked you for saving me earlier,” he starts softly. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come after me…”

Eren huffs a warm laugh into Armin’s hair, his arms squeezing the boy tighter somehow. “Nothing would have happened — I’d have saved you no matter what universe your mind is thinkin’ up.” He cringes a little at his phrasing, but he can’t quite fully blame himself for being so damn loose-lipped. He’s tired and frankly… emotionally spent. He just wants to hold Armin and maybe… 

Sina, his imagination is getting the better of him, because for a moment, he had seen his hand (in his mind’s eye) reach under the blankets to hold Armin around his naked waist. 

Eren shivers, but he’s not cold.

Armin’s smile widens under the blanket, and he only half-successfully stifles his giddy laughter. “You’re being ridiculous,” he replies, even though he knows Eren’s being completely serious. It makes his heart swell, knowing that he’s always safe and cared for whenever Eren’s around. He tilts his head back to gently nuzzle Eren’s face.

In response… Eren has a fucking heart-attack. Well, the sharp, squeezing ache in his chest can’t really be explained in any other way so he has to call it that. His hands curl a little into the blanket, instinctively seeking the touch of warm skin where there’s only the rough scratch of wool. 

He wants Armin. Fuck, how much he’s wanted the boy for years now. He’s restrained himself for so long — wanting Armin to know that he’s special to Eren, not just another person to fuck and forget, and not someone whose intimacy is a tool of comfort like it is with Mikasa. 

When he and Mikasa had sex it was for mutual pleasure — another form of intimacy, sure, but there was a line drawn somewhere which allowed Eren to feel no issue in fucking half of the 104th while occasionally entertaining her. But for Armin… he couldn’t bring himself to do the same thing. Armin is so damn precious and — well, cliche as it is — pure. Eren didn’t want to overwhelm him and didn’t want to show the uglier side of himself to Armin either. 

But fuck if he cares about that right now. Armin had only grown more and more beautiful with time and Eren’s been holding back for so fucking long…

Damn it all — for the first time in almost two months, Eren feels pissed at the fact that he’s exclusive with Jean. He loves that horse-faced bastard to hell and back — but right now his mere existence as Eren’s boyfriend means that Eren has to put a tap on the ravenous desire in his gut, and it’s fucking agony to do.

“So — Marco really went off on me tonight, huh?” Eren hears his voice crack and he blushes in his determination to ignore it.

Armin notices, and his heart sinks at the implication that Marco’s vicious words had made Eren that upset and anxious. “Yeah, that was totally uncalled for,” he says, and he slips one hand out from under the blanket to slowly stroke Eren’s arm. “I don’t think you should take any of what he said personally. It came from a place of hurt, and not from a place of real knowledge.”

Eren sucks in a breath at the casual contact — he’s so intensely focused on not reacting that he misses almost half of what Armin is saying… but this is Armin and he’s rather predictable in that he’ll always stick to Eren’s side, so he’s isn’t too lost in the conversation. 

He moves his arm, catching Armin’s underneath his hand and pressing both of their joined fingers over Armin’s chest. “What d’you think’s got his pants in a twist?” Eren muses, doing his best to focus on the grounding sensation of Armin’s body so tightly pressed against his and not the arousing aspect of that same sensation. 

Armin prays that Eren doesn’t notice the stuttering rise and fall of his chest under their joined hands as he suddenly struggles to breathe properly. A loud, intrusive voice in the back of his head is screaming at him to pull Eren’s hand up to his lips and kiss it, and it takes damn near all of his concentration to shut it up.

“Well… nothing else makes sense to me except jealousy,” Armin answers after a pause that he hopes wasn’t too long. “I’ve noticed that he’s always seemed bothered by your relationship with Jean, but I don’t think it’s because he hates either of you. I think…” Armin shakes his head, doubting his conclusion for a brief moment, but it’s the only thing that makes sense, so he pushes himself to continue. “I think Marco likes Jean as more than a friend. And he’s upset that you got to Jean first.”

Eren hums agreeingly, distracted by the faintest beating under his hand — it feels like Armin’s heart. He shakes his head, determined to not give in to the sudden avalanche of desire that nearly sweeps him off his feet. 

This is just Armin — they’ve cuddled before. Hell, they’ve seen each other naked more times than Eren can count. So this shouldn’t be half as arousing as it is. But it is, and Eren’s starting to worry that he won’t be able to force his blood to reverse back to his head. 

“Well — uh… he should’ve just been faster then. If he wanted Jean so bad. I’ve got him now — he’s — he’s my boyfriend.” Eren says it as a reminder for himself. And it helps, a little. It also makes him horny so it’s not all that effective. 

“That’s fair; what’s done is done, right?” Armin’s voice has gotten breathier, and so has his sweet but still anxious laughter. He can tell that Eren is preoccupied by something other than the drama from earlier in the night; but he’s terrified to ask about it — 

— because he feels like he already knows what it is. 

And Armin doesn’t trust himself to face Eren’s lust responsibly while his own pent-up desires are burning every inch of his skin.

Armin tightens his grip on Eren’s forearm, purposefully stroking the boy’s wrist with his thumb. “Marco won’t be this angry about it forever, I’m sure. You’ve probably faced the worst of it today.”

It’s that damn little touch that does Eren in. He feels himself getting hard — really frighteningly quickly. He pulls away from Armin’s touch as though he’d been burned, gasping out as he struggles to his feet. “Ah — uh… hold on I — shit, I gotta pee…” 

It’s probably a very lame excuse, especially since now he has to either go outside into the rain for a time that seems suitable for taking a leak, or he has to literally do it in the cave… or of course, he could always just admit that he lied and has a very hard, very noticeable boner in his underwear.

He’s behind Armin, not even in the boy’s direct line of sight, yet he still turns around, not intending on giving himself away. “Fuck — maybe I’ll just wear your hood…”

Armin doesn’t think it’s the greatest idea for Eren to go back out into the freezing rain — especially since he has a suspicion that Eren doesn’t actually have to go — but Sina, he wishes that Eren did… 

What he wouldn’t give for the courage to sweet talk Eren into staying put, to touch and kiss and tease the boy all over his gorgeous body until he’s nice and relaxed, to thumb away the tears of humiliation in Eren’s eyes right before he grabs the boy’s dick and aims a hot, hissing stream of piss right onto his waiting thighs —

A sharp jolt of arousal strikes Armin’s gut, and he has to cut his fantasy off right there to keep from moaning out loud. “Just please don’t take too long,” he says in a hurry, his panicked tone tinged with the desperation that he no longer has the strength to fully disguise.

Well, now he has truly fucked himself nicely into a corner, Eren thinks. He literally has no choice at this point, and as he takes a look outside into the pouring rain and the cold-looking wind that sways the trees, he thinks it’s a rather fitting punishment. 

He briefly considers wearing Armin’s cloak to keep the worst of the rain away from his bare skin, but the damn thing is so soaked through it would be pointless. So he does the next best thing and wanders to the edge of the cave, not quite outside, but not quite inside either.

Then he comes to the humiliating realization that he’s going to have to pretend to pee because he’s hard and doesn’t actually need to go. It’s so fucking embarrassing and debasing that Eren can’t help himself. He starts laughing.

Armin’s heart flutters at the adorable sound of it, and it pretty much confirms his suspicions. Either Eren’s bladder is empty, or… or —

No. No, Armin can’t allow himself to picture that or he will melt into the ground where he sits. He whimpers into the blanket, hoping that the thick wool sufficiently muffles his voice, and his hips squirm as the dangerous warmth in his groin wells up further.

Dammit… maybe if I just keep us talking then I can get my mind off these indecent thoughts…

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Armin asks, his own voice shaken by faint giggling.

Eren gives up on his attempt to fake-pee and leans against the cave wall, burying his face in one hand as he snorts helplessly. “Dude I just —” Eren groans and shakes his head. “I can’t believe I just tried to… fuck, I’m embarrassed.”

Armin feels awful about it, but he can no longer hold back a hearty bout of laughter. “Don’t worry about it, Eren! You know I’m not judging!” He gives Eren a bright, toothy grin that quickly turns smaller and shyer, and his blush deepens as he plays with the ends of his still-damp hair. “You — you can come back now, it’s okay. Please?”

Armin’s small, shy, fucking adorable plea makes Eren drop his hand almost instantly — the need to see Armin’s lips making that word is an urge impossible to resist. And it’s every bit as pretty as Eren feared. 

He moves instinctively towards the boy, unable and frankly uncaring to hide his somewhat tented underwear. He’s far too zeroed-in on Armin’s mouth. He sits in front of the boy, plopping down on crossed legs and shoving his hands in front of his crotch to at least pretend to have some modesty. “Why the hell do you gotta be so damn cute, Armin?” he asks breathily. 

Eren’s face is making an expression between adoration and very vivid lust and it is far too beautifully inviting. The low, easy tone of his voice puts a whole new swarm of butterflies in Armin’s stomach. His mouth hangs open dumbly for a moment as he stares at Eren with wide eyes. “I — I’m not — I wasn’t trying — Eren…” He gives up on trying to form a complete sentence and burrows his reddening face back into the blanket.

Eren shakes his head, laughing softly but incredulously. “See there you go again — being so fuckin’ cute…” He feels his hands come up and cup Armin’s face and this time — it’s not in his head.

He’s holding Armin’s face, holding it in both his hands, and he’s drawing nearer to it. He’s close enough that he has to go a little cross-eyed just to keep those baby-blues in his vision. He swallows. 

I want to kiss him… I really really want to kiss him…

His lips part helplessly but the words he wants to say get stuck in his throat, so all that comes out is a pained, soft gasp. He bends down and folds slightly, bracing his head on Armin’s chest as his hands fall from the soft cheeks. “ Fuck , Armin…” 

“Eren?” The name falls from Armin’s lips as a high-pitched, broken whisper, throttled by the shivering of his body. His breathing becomes shallow and stuttering, and his heart threatens to pound out of his chest. The need that drips from Eren’s voice, the admiration that guides Eren’s every touch — it’s all unmistakeable now, and Armin feels so overwhelmed that it’s all he can do to keep himself sitting upright.

Slowly, Armin pulls one of his arms out from under the blanket again, and he gingerly places his hand on Eren’s shoulder, slowly and gently rubbing it in circles. “Eren, what’s going on?”

“Can’t you tell?” Eren groans, his hands moving to clutch at Armin’s blanket. He lifts his face up, pinkened as it is, to try and meet the boy’s eyes — but he simply can’t. He wants to kiss Armin so bad that it’s starting to hurt to not do so. “I’m — damn it Armin! I’m trying so fucking hard right now not to…”

…

“Not to…?” Armin imagines a dozen different ways that that sentence could have ended, and they all make him hot from head to toe. The huskiness in Eren’s voice tells him that the boy is running dangerously low on willpower. He too is growing so weary from resisting temptation that he can’t suppress the tellingly lewd moan that escapes his throat. Both of them are far too close to the edge of the cliff, and Armin knows that only one of them has the strength right now to pull them both back.

Armin takes a deep, shaky breath before moving his hand to Eren’s chest and slowly but firmly pushing him back. He swallows as he bores holes into the ground with his gaze. It pains him to put even this little bit of distance between their bodies…

Eren’s not surprised that Armin pushed him back — but it fills him with such a bitter-tasting disappointment that he can’t help the pained whimper that slips out. He curls his legs up and hugs his knees close to his chest, resting his nose on top of them. At least his erection isn’t on full display. 

“M’sorry…” he mumbles into his legs, refusing to look up. 

Armin opens his mouth to respond but stops himself before any words can come out. He was about to excuse the incident, because that’s what he tends to do with Eren instinctively… But no, it’s not fine, because Eren has a boyfriend to whom he promised exclusivity, and Armin knows this, so what the hell was he thinking coaxing Eren back into his space like that? Like he wasn’t looking for more sweet touches and sweet words from a completely taken man?

Armin wants to tell himself that he’s better than this, that he’s stronger than this, that he has far more integrity than this… but the truth is that he’s struggling so hard to relax around Eren because they’re finally alone. Away from all prying, judging, threatening eyes. No one ever has to know what happens between him and Eren here, and that reality is thoroughly wearing down his resolve. 

Sina, Rose, and Maria, he wants nothing more than to taste Eren’s lips as he sweetly caresses them with his own. In his own mind and heart, what Eren had just done was more than fine.

“You… you don’t have to apologize,” Armin whispers with a wry chuckle. “I almost gave in, too, so you’re not the only one at fault.”

Eren’s eyes widen with surprise as he glances up at Armin’s face. He feels himself blush, but it’s more a comfortable warmth than anything painfully shameful or embarrassing. He chuckles and nudges his foot closer to Armin’s, playfully poking the boy’s ankle with his toe. “I seriously don’t get how people just — choose one person to love. It’s kinda dumb if you already love more than one, right?”

The childish gesture makes Armin laugh in earnest. “Yes, I have to agree with you there,” he admits with a small, timid smile. Oh, what he wouldn’t give so that Jean could understand that, too…

Somewhat daringly, Eren hooks his foot behind Armin’s ankle and draws out the other boy’s foot — just a little of course… just enough so that he can see the dainty curve of the bone’s protrusion. He’s always found Armin’s ankles so delicate and pretty and really what’s the harm?

“See, if you agree then it’s gotta be true.” Eren moves his foot again, setting it side by side against Armin’s and finding the stark difference in their skin colors rather pretty too. “Jean knows that I love you — I’ve told him that like about as often as I’ve told him the same,” he continues. “So really…” Eren glances up and his voice isn’t quite as teasing or lighthearted anymore. “Really it shouldn’t be — a problem…”

 Armin’s breath hitches sharply; he gets sucked in by the intensity of Eren’s pointed look. “Wait — you can’t mean —”

But he does, Armin realizes way too late. His mouth runs dry and bright-hot sparks of barely repressed lust flit over every inch of his skin. “Eren, we can’t — you — you promised him…” His voice feels pathetically small; too soft, too breathy. “He and the others could find us here at any moment. It’s… too risky…”

Eren can’t really help himself anymore. He really can’t. In one smooth move he pushes Armin down to the ground and hovers over the boy on all fours. “It’ll only be riskier everywhere else at any other time, Armin —” he says softly. Then he shuts his eyes and grits his teeth. He doesn’t want to scare Armin away or make a mistake that he will deeply regret; hurting Armin in any way. 

He opens his eyes and hopes that his desperation isn’t too obvious. “Tell me — tell me right now you aren’t hard. Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you. Tell me — say that you don’t want me to touch you, Armin. Just tell me ‘no’…”

Armin forgets to breathe while staring incredulously up at Eren. He’s entranced by the wild, ravenous look in the boy’s verdant eyes — it ties his stomach into knots in the best way possible. He feels naked in more than just the literal sense, like Eren is seeing right through him, combing through every fiber of his being and tugging out each of his secret, salacious wants one by one. 

He’s sure that he’s hard right now. He really wants Eren to kiss him. And nothing would make him happier than to have Eren’s lovely hands all over his body.

He can’t say no. He simply can’t.

But he also can’t say yes, or he’ll officially be complicit in the grave betrayal of Jean’s trust. He hadn’t put forth all of this effort in self-restraint to crumble and cave like that. So he shuts his lips and silently holds Eren’s gaze, tightly clenching his fists over his chest as he struggles to steady his breathing.

Eren waits. 

And he waits. 

And waits. 

And then Armin meets his eyes and Eren’s heart leaps to his throat briefly, like the sudden pattering of a dove’s wings as they are shaken into flight…

But the boy doesn’t say anything; not a sound escapes his tightly shut lips. And that dove gets brutally snatched mid-flight as Eren realizes just what Armin did. He found a loophole, of course. He couldn’t say no, so he decided simply not to say yes. 

Damn the boy’s brilliance! Damn it to all three Walls!

Eren groans and moves off of Armin, rolling over the boy to his side where he curls up to lick his wounds. “ Damn it Armin… ” He hates how small and broken his voice sounds, but he can’t quite do anything about it as frustrated tears prickle in his eyes.

Eren’s disappointed tone stings Armin’s heart. Had he really been counting on me giving in that quickly? He’s not sure that he really wants the answer to that question, but it hangs persistently over his head nonetheless.

Armin turns his head to face Eren, frowning at the boy’s pout and downcast eyes. He can’t stand to see Eren in such low spirits, so he reaches out to take the boy’s hand and run his thumb gently over Eren’s knuckles. He hopes that the touch is soothing enough to cheer him up at least a little bit.

The touch both helps and really really doesn’t help. Eren laughs wetly, rolling onto his back and slinging his free arm over his eyes to hide the betraying moisture. “Fuck… ‘Min I seriously don’t know how much of this I can take before I just — I don’t know, blow up or something.”

Armin nearly chokes on his laughter while trying to stifle it. “Then how do you think I feel having to pry you off of me against my wishes at every turn? Sina, it’s too much…”

Slowly, Eren turns his head to look at Armin with no shortness of shock in his wide green eyes. “Uh — against your wishes, huh?” he repeats, bit by bit. “You want it then…”

Armin’s eyes widen in mortified panic. Dammit — why did I say that?

Eren shifts his body just a little closer to Armin and turns so that he lays on his side, propped up on one forearm as he reaches out with the other hand to press back Armin’s bangs. “He — he doesn’t have to know, Armin.” Though Eren says it softly and coaxingly, he feels a bit of self-disgust curl up inside his gut at the thought of doing something so clearly behind Jean’s back. It hurts him. But he’s really starting to lose coherence… and Armin looks so pretty.

Armin slowly lets out a shaky, high-pitched sigh as he instinctively leans into Eren’s touch. It’s so chaste that he almost can’t believe how intensely he’s blushing in response to it. But he’s always been weak when it comes to Eren — he’s a prisoner to the boy’s wild and alluring charms. How presumptuous of him, to think that he could outlast Eren’s passion, of all people.

He’s buckling under the weight of his desire to shut his eyes and let Eren’s hand move lower, much lower. But while he still has even an ounce of strength left in him, he has to keep pushing against it.

“But… but you will know, Eren… and that kind of guilt — I — I don’t want it to weigh on you…”

Eren doesn’t move his hand away, but his brows do twist down with a look full of confliction. “I couldn’t feel guilty for doing this — I think, really, it’s fate,” he says slowly, parsing the words together as his thoughts swirl in tidal pools. 

“Wh… what?” Armin just barely squeaks out the word, his stomach doing somersaults as the implications of Eren’s words paint a series of scandalous pictures in his head. “Eren, what are you suggesting?”

Eren smiles gently and feels a warmth cover him from head to toe despite being nearly completely naked in a cold cave with rain and wind pouring outside. He lets his eyes trace the contours of Armin’s face, taking his time around the boy’s soft cheeks, his sweet little nose, his sharp chin, his delicate rosy lips…

He moves a little closer and presses his forehead against Armin’s as he sighs out, somewhat shakily. “I don’t think there’s a future I’ve imagined where I don’t kiss you Armin…”

Armin shuts his eyes and bites his lip as he lets out a pathetic little whimper. Eren is too close. His lips are right there. From this distance, the temptation to turn his own head up and kiss them is burning him alive. This is dangerous. 

Armin brings his hands up to grip Eren’s shoulders, pressing on them with the heels of his palms, but not with nearly enough force to move Eren. He starts panting through gritted teeth as waves of guilt-burdened arousal crash over him.

“Sina… Eren…”

The smile on Eren’s face becomes a little bigger; the warmth becomes heat . He moves the hand on Armin’s face down to the boy’s shoulder, carefully nudging the blanket down as he continues to trace over Armin’s arm. He follows the delicate slope of the boy’s bicep down to his forearm, curling his fingers to cup his elbow briefly as his thumb teases the inside of the joint. Then he moves further down until he is holding Armin’s small wrist.

He removes it from his shoulder and guides the palm to his lips, kissing the soft skin there with trembling reverence. “I —” he whispers, eyes half-lidded as he fully gives in to the delightful sin. “I love you, Armin. Let me love you?”

The soft, melodic tenderness in Eren’s voice is what does Armin in — he feels the last remnants of his resolve shatter like glass as tears prick the corners of his eyes. Eren’s sliding touch gives him delightful chills, and the kiss to his hand makes him dizzy with overflowing affection and want. The boy is simply too beautiful — and Armin is hopelessly transfixed by that beauty.

His trembling hand squeezes Eren’s shoulder harder, and his lips curl up into a shy smile. “I… I love you too, Eren,” he whispers faintly.

Armin’s confession warms Eren’s heart — but it does not tame down the sudden flickering flames that lick at his skin. He doesn’t want to coerce Armin into saying yes; that’s the furthest thing he wants.

But he’s also pretty aware that no matter how much Armin might want this to go forward, the boy is paralyzed by his fear of consequence. Eren is not, obviously . The future and all its problems are to be dealt with by future Eren. Thus… not his problem right now.

So he decides to push a little. He dares to seduce.

 He lets Armin’s hand go and moves again, rolling onto his knees and straddling Armin. Then he presses his hands gently on both of the boy’s shoulders, and slowly drags the blanket down. He stops just before the soft pink of Armin’s nipples show, and then moves his hands, tracing the slope of the boy’s collarbone in an aimless back and forth motion. “Let me… love you,” he says, but doesn’t ask.

There are tears streaming down the sides of Armin’s face when he blinks slowly, staring up at Eren with his lips parted in astonishment. His blood burns like fire as it rushes through his body — the heat of his arousal is now completely unignorable. He whines as his hips buck up into Eren’s, and the pressure on his hard cock fills his gut with an intense, delicious pleasure.

Armin had never thought it possible for something so bad to feel so good. He knows he doesn’t deserve it — especially not under circumstances like these — but by the Walls, it’s everything that he’s ever wanted.

“Please —” Armin finally lets the words pour out of him. “Please touch me, Eren. Please kiss me. Please, I need it…”