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Zeke jerks awake by the sound of his phone ringing. He lets out a loud groan as he props himself up onto his elbows, ready to murder whoever thought it was okay to call him at one in the fucking morning.
He reaches over to the table beside his bed to grab his blaring phone. He blinks dumbfoundedly at the name that he sees on the screen — Eren. Suddenly, panic rises steadily in his chest. What the hell is his little brother doing calling him at this hour?
“Eren?” Zeke answers with a heavy rasp in his voice. “Are you okay?”
“Um… this isn’t Eren,” replies the voice on the other end of the line. The boy’s voice is almost completely drowned out by the sound of a blasting stereo and loud cheering in the background. “I’m sorry to call you so late, but — um, this is Eren’s older brother, Zeke, right?”
“Yes,” Zeke says after a moment, his mind churning with worry. “Sorry, who are you?”
“Um, my name’s Armin. I’m Eren’s friend, and um, and we’re at a party right now. He’s- he’s fine, he just really needs to go home.”
“Why?”
“He’s drunk,” Armin immediately responds, his voice wavering, and Zeke wonders if he’s entirely sober, too. “Really drunk. I found him half blacked out on the lawn, and he hasn’t stopped clinging to my leg since. Then I remembered that he once mentioned he had an older brother, and I thought you’d be the best person to call.”
“Fucking hell, Eren,” Zeke murmurs, voice more tired than angry. He pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs. “Alright, um, where are you guys?” he asks, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. He shrugs on the first coat that he sees on the floor and slips shoes onto his feet, his phone firmly wedged between his cheek and shoulder.
Armin relays the address to him. Zeke doesn’t respond, just nods to himself and tries to make a mental note of how long it’ll take for him to arrive.
“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he says, careful to keep his voice low as he slips out the door of his parent’s home.
“Alright, please hurry,” pleads Armin. Then, he sounds more faraway from the phone as he says, or rather, shouts, “No, Eren, that’s not a hamburger, that’s my shoe! Stop it!”
Zeke snickers. “Tell him I think he’s a fucking idiot, and that I’m gonna beat his ass when I see him.”
“Will do,” Armin replies with a snicker, who Zeke hears pulling away from the phone to pass his words to Eren. Faintly, he hears his little brother curse in response.
Zeke arrives at the address faster than he thought he would. Sure, he may have gone a little over the speed limit as he drove, but he couldn’t help it, because the thought of his stupid little brother passed out at some random’s house surrounded by a bunch of reckless teenagers and all different sorts of booze was a frightening enough situation for Zeke to throw a sizeable chunk of his common sense away.
He slams his car door shut and walks up the concrete driveway of the house, hand tightly clutching his phone. On either side of the driveway, there’s two large stretches of trimmed grass lining it. Armin mentioned something about a lawn, so Zeke cranes his neck from side to side in search of his little brother and his friend, and sure enough, he spots them on the farside of the right patch of yard.
Zeke brushes past the small groups of drunk teenagers that crowd the lawn, eyes sorely focused on his brother, who was curled up on the lap of a pale blonde boy who Zeke guesses is Armin.
“Thank god,” breathes Zeke as he approaches the two. Armin looks up from where he’s unsuccessfully trying to pry Eren’s arms off his leg, his round blue eyes brightening as he spots Zeke.
“Hi, Zeke,” says Armin, sounding just as relieved as Zeke felt.
“Zeke!” giggled Eren excitedly, rolling off Armin’s lap and onto the grass. Zeke cringes when he sees the bright flush on Eren’s cheeks, the dilation of his pupils, and the redness surrounding them.
He frowns at Armin. “You sure he was only drinking? He took nothing else?”
“Um,” Armin says thoughtfully, drawing his brows together and chewing on his bottom lip. “I dunno,” he answers after a long moment. “I hadn't really seen him much before now.”
There’s a sloppiness in his speech, almost but not quite a full slur, but it’s enough for Zeke to know that he’s been drinking as well.
“Right, okay,” mutters Zeke. He crouches down onto the grass, where his baby brother lies hugging Armin’s leg close to his chest.
“Eren, what the hell did you take? And how much?” Zeke asks, scrunching his nose up at the keen smell of alcohol.
“Mmm… I don’t remember,” Eren says sleepily. “Oh, wait, that’s not true. I drank a lot of this funny smelling stuff that looked like sparkling water,” he continues, nodding along eagerly as he spoke. “And these funny pills.”
“You absolute idiot,” groans Zeke. He scoots closer to Eren and strokes away the damp hair that sticks to his forehead, sighing absently. He sends Armin an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about all this. Thank you for taking care of this idiot,” he says, tipping his head sadly towards Eren.
Armin snorts. “It’s no problem, really. I just didn’t want him to be all alone while he’s so… vulnerable. Who knows what he would’ve got up to by himself, you know?”
It’s not blatantly obvious, but Zeke still catches the layer of fondness behind Armin’s words. Eren seems to like what he hears too, because he snuggles closer to Armin’s calf and looks up at him hazily.
“Don’t know if it’s just the funny pills I took,” begins Eren, tiny hiccups breaking through his speech, “but you’re really pretty, Armin! Your eyes kinda remind me of the sky, except not right now, because it’s dark,” he exclaims gleefully, reaching up to trace a trembling finger along the sharp contour of Armin’s jaw.
Armin lets him for a second, before hesitantly clasping Eren’s hand in his own and shaking his head firmly. “No, Eren, you’re drunk. You don’t mean any of that, ‘kay?”
“Nuh uh,” Eren says, immediately stretching his arm out again to caress Armin’s cheek. This time, Armin lets him. “Could never regret it, ‘cause I’ve felt like this for a really long time,” he drawls, running his thumb across Armin’s cheekbone. “But I’ll never tell you, ‘cause then you’ll hate me, ‘nd I really don’t want you to hate me.”
Armin’s lips part as if he’s about to say something, but then he seals them shut again. There’s a pained look in his eyes as he gazes down at Eren, and Zeke suddenly feels like he’s intruding on something very personal.
“Eren,” Armin whispers, grief seeping into his words. “You just did tell me, you dummy.” He shakes his head and Zeke can see the moisture in his eyes before he closes them.
“Oh,” Eren says, frowning. “Whoops. So, do you hate me now or not? Hm? I wanna know!”
“No, I don’t,” Armin says with a long sigh. He blinks away the wetness in his eyes and glances back at Zeke, still softly shaking his head. “You’re right. Your brother is an idiot when he’s wasted.”
Zeke chuckles. “Yeah, but I don’t think he was lying just now.” His lips curl into a toothless grin. “He rarely lies when he’s drunk. More of a brutally honest, but still an idiot type of drunk.”
Armin looks away sheepishly, his cheeks glowing bright red. Zeke’s grin grows wider.
“Hey, you two,” Eren slurs, catching Zeke’s eye. “‘M not drunk right now.”
Zeke scoffs. “Right, and the grass isn’t green. C’mon, get your ass up and into the car,” he says. He shifts his gaze to Armin. “How are you planning on getting home?
“I was gonna walk,” Armin responds with a yawn. “My house is only ten minutes from—”
“No,” Zeke says sternly, shaking his head. “No way in hell am I letting you walk home by yourself right now. Plus, I know you’re not entirely sober either. Guess I’m responsible for both of your drunk asses now.”
Armin blushes again, his eyes still fixed on Eren. “Okay,” he says softly, brushing his hand through Eren’s tousled hair. “Thanks. You’re not nearly as bad as Eren said you were.”
Zeke gives a light chuckle. “Yeah, he’s the one you should worry about, not me,” he grins, gesturing towards Eren, who now looks on the verge of falling asleep.
“We should get going,” Armin says, rising to his feet. “C’mon, Eren, get up.”
Eren grunts.
“ Eren .”
Eren grunts again and rolls over to his side, his back facing Armin.
Armin huffs frustratedly.
“Don’t worry. I got him,” Zeke prompts. He bends down to loop one arm around Eren’s elbow and hauls him to his feet. Eren staggers backwards, but Armin catches him before he tumbles to the floor. Together, they heave Eren across the lawn and over to where Zeke’s parked car sits.
Just before they reach the car, however, Eren stops.
“What is it now?” Zeke asks impatiently.
“I think… I think I’m gonna throw up.”
And he does. He twists away from Zeke and Armin, just before his back arches and his long hair falls in front of his eyes. He hurls up the contents of his stomach onto the footpath, tightly gripping Armin's hand. Quickly, Armin draws Eren's hair away from his face and scrunches it behind his neck, using his other hand to rub slow circles on his back.
“Gross,” mutters Zeke with his face twisted into a grimace.
“ Fuck ,” Eren groans, ignoring Zeke. He holds the side of his head and gives another long grunt, using his other hand to wipe the vomit from his mouth. It smears over his cheek instead, but Armin quickly wipes it away with a tissue that he drew out from his pocket.
“It’s okay, Eren. I’m right here,” Armin coos, discarding the used tissue onto the footpath. “Let’s get you into the car, okay?”
Eren grumbles in response, still clutching his head and Armin’s hand.
They finally make it into the car, where Armin straps Eren into the backseat and takes a seat beside him. Zeke brings the car’s engine to life, and the car smoothly pushes away from the sidewalk and onto the empty streets.
Zeke eyes the two boys carefully from the rear-view mirror. Eren lies slumped against Armin’s body, his head resting on his shoulder and their hands joint on Armin’s lap. Zeke doesn’t miss how Armin runs a gentle thumb over Eren’s palm, and he smiles to himself before shifting his focus back to the road ahead of him.
He hasn’t known Armin very long, but he can tell that he has a kind heart, and that’s more than enough for Zeke to be satisfied with.
“Hey, Armin,” he says abruptly, breaking the silence. “Would you like to stay the night at our place? Eren’s gonna be miserable when he wakes up tomorrow, and I’m sure your parents won’t be happy when they see you’ve come home drunk.”
Armin’s reluctant to reply. “Sure,” he answers. “Thanks. Um, do you think your parents will mind?”
“Nah,” Zeke says with a dismissive wave of his hand. He steers the wheel as the car smoothly rounds a corner. “Don’t worry, our mom likes it when Eren has any kind of friend around.”
Zeke glances into the mirror again, quick enough to catch the sudden blush on Armin’s cheeks. A broad grin plasters itself across Zeke’s face.
Eren stirs against Armin’s shoulder and perks his head up. “Armin’s staying the night?”
“Yes,” replies Zeke. The car turns around one last corner before it pulls into their driveway. Zeke plucks his keys out and the roar of the car’s engine fades slowly. “I think he’s gonna have to share your room, Eren. It’s too late for us to set up anywhere else for him to sleep.”
This time, both boys blush bright pink.
Zeke grins. “Don’t worry, your bed’s big enough to fit two people, Eren,” he says. He opens his door and steps outside into the cool night air. “Come on, let’s head inside. Be quiet when you go in, ‘kay?"
They creep inside the house silently, and without waking their parents up. Zeke sets his keys down on the kitchen counter and kicks his shoes off, discarding them to the side.
“Um, goodnight, Zeke. Thank you so much for everything tonight,” he hears Armin whisper quietly with an arm draped around a sleeping Eren, holding him upright.
Zeke flashes him a smile. “No worries. If you two need anything, my room’s the first one on the left,” he says, nodding his head at the hallway.
“Thank you,” Armin says with a grateful smile. “Goodnight.”
“Night, Armin,” says Zeke quietly. He watches as Armin drags Eren to his room with his arm wrapped tightly around his waist. Eren’s bedroom door clicks shut behind the two, and Zeke grins to himself again.
It pleased him that there was someone else watching out for his idiotic brother when he wasn’t there, someone as kind and patient as Armin. Even if the two boys were too shy to admit their feelings, Zeke was more than happy to play matchmaker until the two finally revealed their obvious feelings for one another.
Although, as Zeke recalls the way their hands remained connected and the drunken confession that Eren blurted out earlier, he realises with a growing smile that maybe all they need is a small shove to make their feelings known to each other.
And in the meantime, Zeke will do as much as he can to help them out. Even if it means giving them a hell of a lot of unsolicited advice, he’ll do it if it means his baby brother can be with the person who makes him happy.