Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Armin isn’t sure when mirrors became his worst enemy. He isn’t sure when he started to make it a daily habit to sit or stand and stare at his reflection in the floor-length one that is hanging on the wall in his bedroom. Soaked shoulder-length blond hair framed his sunken face, dripping water onto his collarbones and traveling down his skinny chest to his prominent ribs. He doesn’t remember when he started to despise how he looked. The dark, deprecating thoughts blur in an insecure mind.

Armin grabbed the red towel hanging from his right hand and wiped his hair and body before placing it on a tiny dresser just the right size for his tiny room. Cobalt blue eyes met the same set in the mirror, and he looked away. He couldn’t bare to look himself in the eyes. The image reminded him too much of the judgmental stares he received from strangers when they noticed his ugly body.

He shrieked a little when he finally looked down at his phone and saw what time it was. He refused to be late to his small-town coffee shop job, even if it only paid minimum wage. Armin scurried and threw his phone onto his bed. He threw together the first two articles of clothing he could find that were suitable for work: a black T-shirt and plain blue jeans. Slipping on a pair of black tennis shoes and grabbing his things, he was running out of his room. 

“Marco!” Armin yelled as he practically jumped down the stairs to the front door. “Hurry! We can’t afford to be late!”

He definitely didn’t care about his other two roommates who were still sound asleep in bed. All he cared about was getting to the place he needed to be on time. He had to be on time.

Armin saw the freckled, brown-haired man’s head poke out from behind the wall at the top of the stairs. Marco looked down at him with a dorky grin and began to giggle.

“We’re not going to be late, Armin.” Marco came out from behind the wall, and Armin about had a fit when he noticed that he was in fact not even wearing a shirt.

Armin huffed, “Are you insane? It’s early in the morning which means everyone is trying to get to work. Traffic is going to put us like five minutes back, so go put a shirt on.”

When all Marco did was laugh again, Armin picked up a slipper by the door and chunked it up the stairs, only missing the other man by an inch or two.

“Okay! Okay, I’ll finish up. I’ll meet you in the car.” With that, Marco went back to his room, and Armin hurried to the car.

After waiting a few more minutes, Marco finally made his way to the driver’s seat of the car, and the two men were making their way to work. When they arrived, (right on time, to be exact.) Armin wrapped an apron around his tiny waist and tied it as tight as it would go. Marco manned the cash register while Armin expertly made all different kinds of coffee.

The same thing continued until it was Marco’s break time. During the slow hours of the day, the two were allowed to take a small fifteen-minute break to recuperate, so they would both take a turn. Armin stood at the register, just waiting for a customer to walk through the door. He stood there and had absolutely nothing to do, so of course his eyes drifted to the reflection of himself in the glass at the front of the store.

He began to analyze his face, his hair, and his body. He hated his hair color and thought it plain. He hated his nose; thought it wasn’t the right shape for his face. He hated how fat the jeans he wore made him look. Hated how girly his shoulders were. What Armin hated most of all though, was how ordinary he looked. He knew he didn’t stand out to anyone, and maybe that was a good thing. As much as he wanted attention, Armin always ended up hating it. 

No wonder no one ever hits on you. Maybe if you looked like Marco, you’d be happy. You look absolutely disgusting. Maybe if you put more effort in, you’d be a little skinnier. A little more attractive. A little more-

“Do we order here?”

Armin almost jumped out of his skin. His eyes jerked to see the two most attractive men he had ever seen. The one who he assumed spoke was tall, with chocolate brown long hair that was pulled back into a half-up, half-down bun with tendrils of hair framing his striking face and bright green eyes. His skin was tan, and he wore a tight black V-neck shirt that outlined his toned body with black jeans tucked into expensive-looking combat boots.

When his eyes flicked to the man behind the speaker, he saw that he was also severely attractive and even taller than his friend. The man worked a slightly dirty blond mullet with shaved undersides. His face was striking, long, and almost resembling a horse, but it worked for him. His clothes looked even more expensive. A forest green shirt tucked into expensive-looking pants adorned by an even more expensive belt. He wore fancy shoes and a fancy watch.

“Uh . . . Are you there?”

Armin suddenly realized that he had been standing there like a fool with his mouth hanging slightly open. “H-Hi! Yes. I mean, yes you can order here. What can I get for you today?”

The tan man looked slightly puzzled but continued to order. “I think I want to try the Vanilla Iced Latte. What about you, Jean?”

The other man - Jean - looked down at his friend, and then back at Armin. “I’ll take an Americano.”

“Okay, and what sizes?” Armin asked, typing on the register in front of him.

“Both Large, please,” Jean said, and his friend grinned at him with a bright smile.

Armin tried not to faint from the attractiveness in the room and grabbed a permanent marker from the counter. “And the names?”

“Eren.”

“Jean.”

Armin wrote out the names on each perspective cup, and just as he was about to start making the drinks, Eren spoke.

“Armin, is it?”

Armin was startled by the sound of his name in the attractive man’s mouth and looked at Eren, puzzled. “Um, yes?”

“My boyfriend and I just moved back here from the city. I grew up here, but I don’t remember this coffee shop being here when I was seventeen. When did it open?” Eren asked, curiously. 

“Oh, I think two years ago? It’s a really nice place, and the owners are nice.” Armin tried not to let the disappointment show on his face that both men were taken by each other.

“Hmm, I think even if the coffee isn’t the best, we might have to come back,” Jean says, looking Armin up and down.

Armin tried to ignore the look. He didn’t want to see the disgust in the man’s eyes, so he looked down and asked, “Why is that?”

Jean looked down at his boyfriend and gave him a knowing look, like what he was about to say was some inside joke. “Reasons.”

Eren’s lips raised into a slight smirk, and he glanced back at the blue-eyed boy. Armin was slightly confused and tried not to get the idea that maybe the two men were slightly flirting. No way in a million years would someone like them flirt with someone like him.

As if on cue, Marco came rushing through from the back door. “Sorry Arm, I accidentally took a twenty and not a fifteen. I lost track of . . . time.”

Armin saw the little glint in Marco’s eyes and the slight blush spread across his freckled cheeks as he took in the two men in front of them. That was when he knew that if he doubted them flirting with him a moment ago, they weren’t going to be after seeing Marco’s cute twink face. He continued to make their drinks as Marco struck up a friendly conversation with Jean and Eren.

Armin walked back to the front counter with the two drinks in his hands. He handed the hot drink to Jean and the cold one to Eren and went to walk away. Marco had them drawn into a conversation that Armin was barely paying attention to when he heard his name being spoken.

“ . . . Armin . . . shy, but he’s . . . Sure, hold on.” He heard bits and pieces of what Marco was saying but decided he didn’t want to listen when Eren handed over his phone to the grinning Marco. Armin watched out of the corner of his eye as Marco typed what he assumed was his number into the man’s phone.

Marco handed Eren his phone back, and Eren and Jean said their goodbyes to him. Armin looked up as they were exiting, and both men turned back to him. Eren smiled and waved at him, while Jean gave him a curt nod. When they both finally left, Marco swung around to Armin with a shit-eating grin.

“Managed to pick up those two?” Armin asked as he cleaned off the back counter with a white rag.

Marco smirked and winked at Armin. “Hehe. Something like that.”

Armin rolled his eyes and gave Marco a playful smile. “Not surprising, you’re hot. They’d be dumb not to be mesmerized by you.”

Marco tilted his head to the side like a puppy and asked, “You think so?”

Armin sadly smiled. “Of course.”

The two boys put the conversation to rest so that Armin could go take his break, while Marco manned the counter. He walked into the break room and sat down at the table. He pulled out his phone and started mindlessly scrolling through social media. Pictures and videos of beautiful people with beautiful lives made Armin feel a little sick to his stomach. He stared at a post of a man he went to high school with and instantly started comparing himself to the other. Armin wished he was half as attractive, and he slammed his phone down on the table.

He wished he was as attractive as Connie and Sasha. As attractive as Mikasa, his friend who still lived at home with her adoptive parents. As attractive as beautiful Marco. As attractive as all the people in his life. Maybe then someone like Jean or Eren would be interested in him, but Armin had an ugly mind and an ugly body. There was no getting around the fact that Armin was a difficult human being and did not need or deserve love at this point in his life.

Maybe not ever.

***

Armin and Marco locked up the coffee shop at 6 PM precisely and started walking toward their shared car. Armin sat in the passenger seat and sighed, running a hand through his hair. Marco slid into the driver’s seat and hooked his phone up to the aux in the radio. He settled on a hype playlist he had put together for the twenty-minute drive that they had home.

A happy pop song that Armin vaguely remembered started playing, and Marco happily bounced in his seat before taking a sharp right down a dirt road. Armin giggled as Marco sang the song at the top of his lungs, enjoying the little detour they took. Marco was happy and spontaneous, a contrast from Armin, and he liked that. He helped loosen Armin up a little and destress his brain.

As Marco went to turn back onto the main highway, Armin heard his phone ding with a text message. He looked down but paused as he saw that it was an unknown number. 

[(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Hey, Armin! It’s Eren. My boyfriend and I were in the coffee shop earlier.]

Armin shrieked. Marco, startled, gripped the steering wheel in shock and almost ran off the road.

“What the hell, Armin?” Marco asked in concern as he corrected the position of the car in between the white and yellow lines.

Armin looked up at him, and his eyes turned to slits as he glared at the man. Marco gulped, confused.

“Armin . . . ?” Marco was getting more and more nervous when, finally, Armin responded.

“What . . . did you do, Marco?”

Chapter Text

Marco was sure that he had seen his life flash before his eyes. Armin’s face resembled that of Lucifer, and Marco was terrified, to say the least. 

Armin asked the question again to Marco, “What did you do?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Feigning innocence was Marco’s strong suit, but this doesn’t mean that Armin always fell for the act.

“Oh, really?” Armin held up his phone and asked with obvious sarcasm, “Then please tell me ‘Oh Innocent Forever Marco’ how a Mr. ‘Eren Jaeger’ has texted me from a number that I never gave him?”

Marco continued to drive. All the while he took small little glances over to Armin; Armin, who still held the look of Satan. Marco scoffed and rolled his eyes, one hand on the steering wheel, and the other arm on the armrest. “I don’t see what the big deal is, Armin. They were both obviously into you. I mean how much luck could someone get?”

Armin sighed, trying to ease up on his anger towards his friend. “Marco, you know how I feel about stuff like this. I’m not looking for anything right now, and what is the point of it? What is the point? Especially when we both know that once they get to know me, they will find out that I’m not what they want. This is going to be just like every other time you’ve given my number to someone.” Armin started to snap a little towards the end, and regrettably said, “I don’t need your fucking pity just because you know every boy we both meet ends up falling for you instead of me.”

Armin instantly knew what he said to him was shitty. What a shitty thing to say to a caring friend who only wants someone they care about to not be lonely.

Marco’s face twisted into hurt, and he closed his mouth shut, jaw clenching painfully. Armin knew he had fucked up. He hurt one of his best friends in the whole world, and he didn’t know how to fix it. How did he take back what he had said, without sounding like a blabbering douchebag?

“Marco . . . I-I didn’t mean what I just said. I know, I know , that you are just trying to help me find someone that makes me happy, but sadly this is not what I want. I don’t want a relationship or even a fuck buddy. I enjoy just having a few close friends. I enjoy having plenty of alone time. I enjoy not having to worry about communication and shit like that.” Armin played with his phone in his hands awkwardly in his lap.

Marco sighed, face softening slightly. “Armin . . . You’re just so lonely . . . I worry.”

Armin smiled softly and looked at Marco curiously. “You . . . really think t-that they were into me? Because I saw their eyes and yours light up when you walked in from break.”

Marco turned a slight shade of red. “Well sure, I thought that they were hot as fuck, but I could tell that you already had the Eren man wrapped around your little finger. What was his name? Jean? Yeah, I think that was it.” Marco paused. “He . . . he was honestly a little hard to read, but he seemed cool with Eren asking for your number and saying that he would love to spend some time with you.”

Armin turned ten shades redder than Marco ever had. It was kind of embarrassing to hear that someone, or anyone was interested in him, especially from Marco the Cutest Twink. 

“Why . . . Why me?” Armin asked, insecurely.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Armin. You’re a knockout. If I wasn’t so much of a Bottom Bitch, then I would have slept with you a long time ago.”

“Are you saying that I can’t be a top?”

Armin looks at Marco.

Marco looks at Armin.

They both look away from each other, grimacing.

Ew. They both thought as they imagined being with each other.

The two men finally made it home to Sasha and Connie. The two were playing video games on the living room couch when they opened the door. Armin heard the yells from the room, and he also heard the sound of Mario Kart playing from the large TV. All four of them had pitched together to get the expensive flat screen, and they all made sure to use it to its full potential.

“Honey I’m home!” Marco shouted and then proceeded to launch himself onto the couch, pushing Sasha and Connie over forcefully.

Armin witnessed the life leave Connie’s eyes as he accidentally fell off of the track, putting him in 8th place. All because Marco had decided to be a little shit and mess him up.

“Haha! Yes!” Sasha jumped for victory, pumping her fist in the air as she drove her character over the finish line in 1st place. She turned to her boyfriend, Connie, “Take that, Motherfucker!”

Connie scoffed and glared at Marco, “Only reason you won was because this little shit decided to ruin my play.”

“Oh don’t be a sore loser, babe.”

Armin plopped himself down onto the floor in front of the couch, his back pressed up against Sasha and Connie’s legs. He leaned onto them, and Sasha ran her hands through his long hair.

“You need a haircut, Armeen.”

Armin glared up at Sasha. Sasha stared down at him. She continued playing with his hair, and he soon forgot all about the stupid nickname that their friend Reiner had given him. 

Armin’s stomach growled, and Marco picked up on the hint that everyone was hungry. “What’s for dinner?” He asked.

“Oh!” Sasha announced, “Mikasa has requested we have dinner at her and her parents' house tonight with them!”

“Honey. Inside voice, please.” Connie squinted and backed his head away from the very loud love of his life.

“Just us? Or everyone?” Armin asked. He didn’t know how to tell them he didn’t want to be around a large group of people tonight.

Sasha thought for a second, then proceeded. “I think just us because she didn’t mention anything about a large dinner party.” 

Mikasa’s parents weren’t rich, but they had a comfy amount of money. This was due to her adoptive dad being a doctor, but since he worked at the small-town hospital where they lived, he simply made enough to be able to splurge every once in a while. 

“Oh okay,” Armin yawned, leaning into Sasha’s hand before she pulled away.

“No sir, you can’t fall asleep. We have dinner to attend to. Now both of you sugar and creamer bitches go upstairs and get changed.”

Marco gave a puzzled look. “But what about you two? You’re not dressed either.”

Sasha smirked playfully and started trailing a hand playfully up Connie’s thigh. The two very gay men got the idea and instantly scurried away from the unholy sight.

Armin slammed the door to his room, huffing from having run up the stairs. He giggled softly, and then stripped from his gross work clothes, throwing them on the floor. He kept his eyes down, trying to make sure that his eyes did not meet the mirror. He knew that it would make his mental state terrible for the rest of the night. If that happened, then he wouldn’t be able to enjoy what Mikasa was probably working very hard on right now. 

He and Marco met Mikasa about a year ago, but Sasha and Connie had known her for a few years if not more. She was adopted by Grisha and Carla at the age of 9, and she has lived with them and their son ever since. What happened to her birth parents, Armin had no clue. He also was not going to pry, especially since it could have been a very traumatic experience. 

Armin continued to get dressed into something a little nicer: a tight, black short-sleeve shirt and slightly tighter blue jeans. He paired this with a cute silver necklace, black ankle boots, and of course a jacket. Armin went everywhere outside of work with a jacket. He didn’t care if it was 110 degrees with 90% humidity outside (which could happen in the summer, because that’s just how Georgia weather worked, and Armin hated it.)

He quickly glanced at the mirror and tried his hardest not to stare too long at his imperfect, stupid face and girlish long hair. He in fact did need a haircut. Stupid Sasha, always having to be right. 

Maybe I’d look better with shorter hair.

Armin glanced away from the mirror but found himself drawn to it again.

Who are you kidding? Either way, ugly is what you are. Cutting off your hair isn’t going to change that, you fucking idi-

“Armin? Are you ready to go?”

Armin - who was lost in his little world of self-hatred - finally snapped back into reality and jerked away from the mirror. He opened the door to see Marco staring at him.

Armin seriously questioned how Marco was still single because Armin could have started drooling with how handsome and hot he was. Marco looked at Armin with worry, and Armin just smiled awkwardly.

***

Connie walked inside Mikasa’s house like he owned the place, and the other three followed not too far behind. 

The car ride there had been just as chaotic as always, with Armin staring out a window, Marco driving haphazardly, and Sasha and Connie singing at the top of their lungs. They both always tried to get Armin to join, but he would always just giggle at the two and go back to his head. Armin wasn’t much of a singer. He had always hated his voice, and he refused to embarrass himself and get laughed at by his best friends. 

Armin closed the door softly, as he was the last to enter the clean and tidy home. Connie called out to Mikasa, waiting for a reply so that they could all find her.

“I’m in the kitchen!”

All four of them walked towards the kitchen and looked around the corner at Mikasa. Her short jet-black hair was pulled back by a headscarf, and she looked as beautiful as could be. She was the only one out of their entire friend group who was not white, as she was mixed: Japanese and White. Armin knew this was a big deal to her because she had told him about the teasing and taunting she had received as a kid from other children. Along with the constant questions from other people her parents and one sibling got about ‘She looks nothing like you, is she adopted?’ 

She had expressed to him that when she first meets people, she wonders if her East Asian features are all they notice about her. Armin comforted her by telling her that real friends won’t give a flying fuck what she looks like, and none of them do. He knows it means the world to her to have friends and family who accept her, even though she is different in every way. 

Mikasa smiled softly at the group of four and moved a pot from the stove. “Hey, guys.”

They all greeted her but did not move to help her in the kitchen. They all knew that when Mikasa was in the kitchen and working her magic, everyone who was not Mikasa stayed out. There was nothing she hated more than someone interrupting her flow as she cooked and maneuvered her way around the kitchen. 

They talked about their days, made small gossip, and even got onto the topic of how their families were doing. This was a topic that Armin always disclosed himself from.

“Oh. Right.” Mikasa looked up at everyone from what she was doing. “My brother and his boyfriend are back in town after a few years. They should be upstairs in his room.” Mikasa took a loud and deep breath, and for the first time that night used an outside voice. 

“Eren! Jean! Come downstairs and meet some people! Dinner’s almost ready!”

Armin froze. Marco whipped his head around at Armin, wide-eyed. 

He heard two sets of footsteps coming quickly down the stairs. He then heard a voice. A very familiar voice. A very familiar, hot voice.

“What are we having for dinner?” Armin saw a head start to pop around the corner. “And who’s all h-?”

The voice abruptly came to a halt, and then there were two sets of eyes on him. Armin’s deep blue eyes widened, and flicked between both men, unsure of what to do.

Sasha and Connie looked at each other, clueless. Mikasa, who was also clueless, looked back and forth between all three men. Marco stood still, his jaw hanging open, and it almost touched the floor.

“Wha . . . What?”