Archive of Our Own

College is supposed to be your “prime years,” or so they say. Right?

The inseparable trio: Mikasa, Armin, and Eren, graduated from high school together and decided to attend their local public university, as did the rest of their friend group.

Armin would be lying if he said he couldn’t have attended a “better” university with his stats, but none of that mattered to him. Names and rankings were all irrelevant.

Despite his own opinions on the matter, he got berated by authoritative figures in his life, who told him he was wasting his potential. Great, apparently he thought he wasn’t doing enough—but now he was wasting his life because he didn’t care about going to an Ivy League university.

He did get accepted to one, but declined the acceptance along with the accompanying scholarship offer.

His parents disapproved, but honestly, Armin didn’t give a shit—they barely raised him, opting to send him to live with his grandpa. Perhaps middle-school Armin would have cried at the thought of his Dad calling him a failure, but teenage Armin no longer sought his parents’ approval.

One of the only people who didn’t shame him was Eren.

“That doesn’t matter. You have the freedom to live your life however you want. You’re in control. If you’re happy, I’m even happier.

Armin looked away, feeling his cheeks redden.

—It’s not like rankings mean much anyway. Aren’t you getting the same degree at the end of the day? Some people attend top schools and leave without forming any meaningful connections—but knowing you, you’re gonna succeed no matter where you are.”

“Also,” Eren giggled, “I’d be really sad to see you go. I know it’s selfish, but I still want to let you know.

Armin laughed at that. Eyes crinkling and all.

Eren leaned closer, interwining their hands together.

“Either way, I want to see you live a life you choose for yourself. You’re capable of that, I promise.”

Armin’s breath hitched; all the words begging to be spilled got caught in his throat.

Eren smiled like he always did.

Eren knew exactly what to say. Always.

This was probably one of Armin’s favorite things about him. No matter what held him back, Eren would come up stronger.

He knew how to inspire Armin, and he protected the smaller boy whenever necessary

When he was at his lowest, unsure of the future, Eren was there, holding his hand and never letting go.

Not only did he look up to Eren Yeager, but he also wanted to be by his side all the time.

As a child, Armin thought it was a normal thing to desire, and for some people, it is.

That wasn’t the case for him.

Armin eventually realized there was a word for what he felt.

Love.

Armin knew love as something between boys and girls. He’d never seen a boy with another boy.

That worried little Armin.

As he grew up, he realized there were more people like him. Learning all about it from books and videos online. He wasn’t alone.

In middle school, people got suspicious, and a different kind of bullying started. He would just tell people he wasn’t interested in the specific girls in his class. No one believed him. But it was okay, since Eren was always at his side, defending him when necessary.

When young Armin asked Eren about his own lack of romance, the other boy raised a brow, confused. Eren thought it was okay since they had each other.

He said something like, “Why would I care about that when we’re together?”

Eren even made a promise to get married if neither of them got a girlfriend. They pinky swore.

And to this day, Armin wonders if Eren remembers that promise: The promise Armin keeps a bit too close to his heart at night.

-

It was probably during the summer after his freshman year of college when he fully realized the extent of his crush. Eren invited his friends over to their shared dorm with Armin and Mikasa, and suggested a watch party of any stupid Tubi movies they could find.

Of course, Reiner brought drinks. Homemade at that.

“Ooh, this looks fruity,” Sasha says excitedly.

Reiner smiles, proud of his work. “They’re Passion fruit margarita, to be exact.”

Everyone is gathered around the island table.

Connie takes a glass from a cabinet, looking at the huge glass with rising suspicion. “Homemade? Yeah, okay. How do I know this isn’t laced?”

Reiner rolls his eyes. “Why would I waste time lacing your drink when there are easier ways to kill you? Just shut up and drink.”

“What do you mean by ‘easier ways,’ weirdo? Guys, you need to keep an eye on this one.”

That made Bertholdt laugh. “I think we should.”

Eren hums inquisitively, putting a hand to his chin. “I dunno, Bertholdt, you seem like the type to be his accomplice.”

“Hey!”

Reiner then started dispersing the drinks.

Needless to say, everyone had a blast.

Armin had fun too. Except that he could barely focus on what happened in the outrageous selection of movies Sasha chose when his and Eren’s sides were pressed together.

Eren wraps his arm around Armin’s shoulder. The slightly older boy pulls Armin closer, nuzzling into his neck.

How was no one noticing?

Armin froze. He's tipsy, but unfortunately, very aware of every movement Eren made.

It's comfortable, yet sickeningly intoxicating. Every point of his body is warm, with temperatures rising higher by the minute.

In each absurd scene, Eren touched some part of Armin’s thigh absentmindedly, literally sending shock waves through his body. He played it off, though.

Or at least he thought he did. Annie and Bertholdt side-eyed him once, but he really couldn’t tell if his drunken state made that memory up.

The movies were downright ridiculous, a woman shooting a gun, just for the sound effect to be played ten seconds later—everybody laughed for at least five minutes.

After that scene, Eren decided to rest his head on Armin’s shoulder. Armin’s heart thumped even faster.

From time to time, Eren would fix a messy strand of hair on Armin’s head. But at some point, Armin became too embarrassed, and he put his entire hand on Eren’s face.

A futile attempt to push him away.

This was normal between friends, so why did he have such an adverse reaction to it?

Eren only smiled. “What? ‘M ‘jus fixing it.”

Armin pulls away, blushing. “Ugh,” he mutters.

Eren runs his fingers through Armin’s blonde, silky locks. “Your hair is so long and pretty, did I—“he hiccups, “ever tell you that?”

Armin can’t keep himself from smiling. “Sometimes—but only when you’re sober.”

“I should be more affectionate, especially with you,” Eren says, poking Armin’s cheek.

“I guess the alcohol makes me feel looser. Whatever that means,” Eren stares, “Wow your eyes…”

Armin is confused. Shy. “Uh-huh.”

“Armin.”

When Armin looks at Eren, his expression changes. Green irises are solely on Armin, eyelashes fluttering and all. Armin feels seduced. There was a ravenous look in Eren's eyes, one that Armin couldn't possibly look away from.

His limbs were itching to get closer.

They locked eyes, and suddenly it felt like everything was playing in slow motion.

Eren leans in, and Armin follows, before a “What the—Hello? Am I interrupting something?” startles both of them. Reiner was trying to get their attention.

Armin is dazed, while Eren turns around almost instantly. “Oh god—Reiner! Fuck off. You look horrible. Why the hell is your hair like that?”

When Armin thinks back to it, it’s nothing but a drunken action that meant nothing. Eren likely doesn’t remember, so Armin will act like nothing ever happened.

Drunk people do that all the time.

It doesn’t mean anything, it really doesn't, no matter how much Armin wants it to.

Armin never brought it up again, and neither did Eren.

-

Armin and Annie were eating lunch when Annie suddenly slammed her hand on the table.

They’d just left their biology lecture, a very long one at that.

Armin, startled, gave her a questioning look, and in response, her eyebrows furrowed.

Annie wraps a strand of hair around her finger, deep in thought.

“So you just want to continue keeping it to yourself? Even though it’s affecting you in every single aspect?

“Huh?”

Armin’s attention is turned back to Annie when she starts snapping in front of his eyes.

“What were you saying?”

“Your daunting crush on Eren.”

“That’s um—a pretty juvenile way to put it,” Armin blurts out, off guard.

“And anyway, where did that even come from? I haven’t... really brought it up in a while.”

She ignores the following question. “You’re acting juvenile enough, it fits.”

It was around Thanksgiving, if Armin is remembering correctly. After a bittersweet interaction with Eren, he caved in when Annie caught him sitting at a bench on the edge of campus, looking utterly depressed.

Annie said he was taking the situation out of context, and surprisingly, her little pep talk made him feel better.

Annie generally criticizes his line of thinking, calling Armin an aloof, big-brained, yet no-brain-cells, idiot.

She’s the only one he managed to confide in about this, unfortunately.

Armin, filled to the brim with conflicting emotions, considered asking Mikasa but quickly erased the idea from his mind.

Mikasa was a no-go; Armin assumed she’d start hinting it to Eren, trying to solve it in her own way, and Armin really did not feel like being humiliated.

He had other friends, sure, but Armin wasn’t ready to be vulnerable with them all, especially when the topic of discussion was Eren.

Annie begins mindlessly darting her eyes around, flicking her mashed potatoes around her plate.

If Armin didn’t know her, he’d say she looked bored.

It’s a little past one in the afternoon, and with their Lecture all done, thank goodness, Armin suggested getting lunch together.

Little do people know Annie’s “sweet tooth” is actually a savory one, so Armin knew exactly how to trap her.

It’s a small one that was established around the time Eldia, their country, signed a peace treaty with Marley, a neighboring territory. Sasha works there; it’s how Armin found out about it in the first place.

“—Just been thinking about it. I guess. I don’t know,” Annie suddenly says.

Humored, Armin nods his head in disbelief. “Huh.. you’ve just been thinking about it. No, yeah, you thinking about my problems off the clock is totally normal.”

Annie rubs her eyes, then tightens her ponytail gracefully.

“Well.. when you put it like that.”

She sighs. “—I saw him the other day and we spoke.”

Annie and Eren spoke? Now that was rare.

“I—wait— when? About?” Armin asks not even a second after, his heart pounding.

He shifts, clenching his stupidly bright blue jorts. They look so dumb, Armin thinks.

“Doesn’t matter—look,” Annie deadpans, placing her palms flat on the table, “I think you should tell him.”

Armin tenses, what did they talk about? He lowers his head, and gravity forces his glasses to slide a few millimeters down.

The boy sinks into himself, nerves threatening to release themselves.

“And how the hell am I supposed to take your word for it when you won’t tell me what you guys talked about?”

Annie shrugs, like nothing mattered, sipping her drink, which the waiter brought only minutes before.

“I can’t—don’t want to handle this right now,” Armin whines, then aggressively picks up the lobster on his plate, shoving it in his mouth.

“I—You’ve been saying this for almost a year,” Annie points out, then mirrors Armin by shoving some fries into her own mouth.

She swallows. “And now you’re beginning to avoid all your friends as a whole,” she adds.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Oh—that’s what you two spoke about, huh?”

Annie’s eyes go wide, and she realizes what she just implicated. Her lips twist into an O shape, as if to say Oops…

It’s an act because Armin can tell Annie didn’t care underneath the fake surprised expression.

Maybe that was her plan this whole time.

Regardless, Armin feels bad.

Eren noticed?

And felt bad enough to talk to ANNIE, of all people, about it?

“It’s not on purpose.. I realize what I’m doing afterwards. I feel bad about it, but I just can't seem to stop. Was he sad? I—I’m not mad, he should know that.”

Annie looks at Armin with a glint of pity in her eyes.

“I can’t confess. Even if he did like me back—not possible by the way, it’d ruin things. Probably.” Armin says, mouth stuffed with fries.

“Okay—gross. Eat before you speak.”

Annie points her fork at Armin. “Don’t you remember that time we were all together? I mean, you were pretty fucking drunk, so maybe not.”

“Huh?”

“When we watched those comically bad movies. You and Eren were glued together, and well—it kinda looked like Eren was making a move on you.”

“Okay, no. Yeah, I remember. He wasn't making a move. We were intoxicated.”

Annie rolls her eyes, rubbing her temple. “Sure. He was. But not to the point where he’d tongue kiss Jean, it’s only his rationale that’s affected.”

Turning to the window beside them, Annie begins to fan herself. “God, this topic is making me stressed—there’s sweat on my forehead. Give me that.”

Armin gulps and passes her a napkin. She dabs it lightly on her forehead, looking at the stubborn boy once again.

“I can’t with you sometimes… I think everyone knows how Eren feels about you.”

If Eren truly did, he would have done something already, no?

Eren was a straightforward guy, and Armin didn't recall anything that would suggest otherwise.

They’ve been close since they were kids; Eren’s doing things he did in the past.

Armin is only hyper-aware of it now because of his “juvenile crush.”

So many possibilities that pop into Armin’s head whenever he thinks about confessing. One of them is that Eren gets disgusted and cuts off all contact with Armin.

When Armin brought that up a few months ago, Annie seemed like she wanted to bash her head into a wall. She said it was irrational.

How was it irrational? Armin has seen Eren get upset over much less. He knows Eren cares about him, but this was new territory, and Armin’s fears were starting to take over his mind.

Annie crosses her arms. “I think… and I’m being honest. I’ve known you for a few years. You don’t like yourself, one thing. You can’t possibly see Eren reciprocating your feelings because of this deep dislike you have for yourself.”

Armin is silent. Ouch.

“I don’t say this as often as I should, but you are a good person, you have a kind heart. There’s absolutely no one out there who can’t see that. You're also his best friend, think about why.”

Armin, surprised, blurts out a confused ‘Huh?’

Annie’s kindness to Armin was somewhat unusual. She isn’t the type to be so direct, and not with kind words.

Her words made Armin think. If Annie had so much to say about it, he would at least take in all of her thoughts.

Even if he disagreed.

Armin didn’t know why he was Eren’s best friend.

He was frail as a child, incapable of defending himself; he always needed Eren or Mikasa there to protect him. He was school-smart, he had odd interests, he was unpopular, yet they both still stood by him this long.

During childhood, Armin lived with his grandpa, and although most kids would bully him for this, Eren and Mikasa thought it was just another fun fact about him.

They’re both so kind, too kind. And yet, Armin hasn’t repaid anything they’ve done for him.

Particularly Eren.

It’s shameful.

After that, Annie changes the topic of conversation, preventing Armin from replying. They sit, talk, finish their plates, and leave for their respective classes.

Before Annie leaves, she says one thing.

“Tell. Him.”

Those words echo in his head for hours. Armin thinks about their conversation for the rest of the day.

-

Connie and Jean, being the chaotic duo they are, decided to gather everyone for a little get-together.

It all started when Armin was finishing up a 10-page paper. He’s at his desk, sitting on his newly bought computer chair, when Eren sneaks behind him.

He feels two arms wrap around his neck.

A sigh followed, and Armin could feel Eren’s breath trickle down his neck.

“Schön,” Eren says, almost a whisper.

Immediately, Armin's heart dropped. Eren’s touch, combined with him speaking his native tongue, is damn near about to drive him insane.

“What are you doing?” Armin teases.

He was accustomed to Eren’s clinginess, given that they were childhood friends; this wasn’t a new thing for the pair.

However, ever since he realized his feelings, it had become difficult to ignore.

Armin couldn’t see him, but the undeniable, small breaths of laughter Eren is resisting said it all.

“Nothing.”

It scared him, so he started to avoid Eren a bit. If not avoidance, he’d get super jumpy whenever Eren got close.

I guess today wasn’t one of those days, or so he thought.

“Come on, Armin.. we should go together,” Eren whines.

“They’re going to play Cards Against Humanity.”

“Oh my god,” Armin huffs, “The game your mom found under your bed that one day—we were out at Six Flags or something.”

Armin feels Eren nod on his shoulder. He began playing with the hem of Armin’s lime-colored T-shirt a few moments ago.

Eren laughs, “Shit was not funny when it happened. I almost shit myself when she confronted me.”

His voice reverberates in Armin’s ears; the sound turns Armin’s body into mush.

“When you got home, she took it away, asking why there was inappropriate shit on the cards,” Armin recalls, turning his head anyway.

“But why do you want me there?”

Eren's reply came almost instantly.

“What do you mean, why?” Eren replies, puzzled.

That’s a normal reaction. Why would he reply like that?

Eren removes his grasp on Armin, and he mentally stabs himself a million times for asking that.

Eren then awkwardly rubs the back of his head.

“Why wouldn't I want you there?”

Armin takes a second to reply. It’s not like any of them really wanted Armin there. Eren was likely inviting him out of pity.

“I don’t see why I should be there,” Armin says lowly.

Armin doesn’t realize how self-deprecating he sounds until he looks up and finds Eren looking at him intensely.

Armin looks away from Eren’s gaze, his mood slowly becoming sour. This is not what he wanted to be talking about right now.

Everything was fine just a few moments ago.

Eren doesn’t respond, but anyone could see the vein nearly shooting out of his forehead.

When Eren tries to move close to Armin again, he jumps, moving away.

New Habits die harder.

Eren, baffled, runs his hands through his hair. “See! What’s—Why do you keep doing that!?”

“What are you—“

Eren’s patience is wearing thin. Armin can tell he’s pushing it too far.

He knows what he’s doing, but he can’t say it out loud. How is he supposed to explain it?

He starts fiddling with his fingers, looking everywhere but in front of him. He doesn’t want to face Eren right now.

Not now.

“You keep avoiding me. What did I do?” Eren asks; Armin can hear the desperation in his voice.

“Sometimes you’re okay, other times—more than often, you’re not.”

Eren takes a seat on Armin’s bed, directly across from where his desk is. “I’m just so fucking confused, and you won’t say anything.”

After a few seconds of silence, Armin makes a panicked sound.

“I can’t.”

“You can't what?”

Armin snaps. “Eren, I can’t! I can’t tell you.”

Things are quickly spiraling out of control. Armin should stop; he wishes someone would stitch his mouth shut right about now.

“I’m so stressed out, holy shit,” Armin nearly yells, taking off his glasses and slamming them on his desk. He’d already closed his laptop at this point.

Taken aback by Armin’s tone, Eren lowers his voice two notches. His face twists from one emotion to the next, unsure how to respond.

Armin mutters a very small, ‘Sorry.’

Eventually, he backs off. It seems like Eren isn’t taking it personally. After all, this isn’t how Armin usually behaves.

“Minnie, you can literally tell me anything. You could tell me you murdered someone right now and I’d go help you clean up the fucking body.”

“It’s just—“

Eren stands up, waving his hands to emphasize his point. “Aren’t we best friends??”

“—Of course we are. Eren, I’m just stressed out about something… It’s making me avoid stuff. I don’t know how to phrase it right now.”

A beat.

Eren looks around hesitantly.

“…Are you uncomfortable with me?”

Armin immediately stands up, and his face contorts. He can’t say why now, but he doesn’t want Eren to believe that.

He doesn’t want to hurt Eren, ruin their friendship, and possibly make his own life more miserable than it already is.

“NO! No. Not at all. I’d never. I’d never dream of that.”

Armin’s stomach turns into a thousand knots. The guilt is starting to consume him. His feelings were catching up to him, mentally and physically; there was nothing he could do about it.

Everything is falling apart.

Before he knew it, tears were running down his face. When he tries to lift his hand to wipe it, he feels Eren push his hand down, wiping Armin’s tears himself.

“Minnie… what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”

When Armin didn’t respond, Eren took a seat next to him, holding the other tightly. He began rubbing circles on Armin’s back.

Slowly, Armin’s breathing evens out.

“I’m sorry,” Armin says, muffled. “To anyone else, it’s not worth crying over.”

“Shhhh,” Eren whispers. embracing Armin tightly.

They’re sitting on Armin’s bed, Eren’s back against the wall with Armin sitting on his lap.

He started crying on Eren’s chest, getting tears all over his hoodie. Snot too.

Gross, Armin thought.

He can feel Eren’s heart beat, and he wishes so badly that he could reach into his chest and tell it all the things he loves about Eren.

Finally, although with a scratchy voice, Armin speaks. “Just give me some time, please.”

Eren lets out a breath of relief. “I’m not trying to rush you. I was just upset because I have no idea what’s happening.”

Armin nods against his chest, clearing his throat.

“I know. I’m being unfair. I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

Eren chuckles, softly massaging Armin’s back. “It’s okay. I can’t be mad at you even if I wanted to be.”

There’s nothing left to be said. His best friend is too kind, too forgiving.

The guilt momentarily dissipates, and Armin focuses only on the comfort of their position. He hasn’t hugged Eren like this in so long.

They stay within each other’s grasp for what feels like eternity.

Hours later, Mikasa would find them both cuddled up on Armin’s bed, soundly asleep. Legs sprawled out, tangled with each other—Eren with a grasp on Armin that could rival some of the wildest animals protecting their cubs.

They look peaceful, happy even.

-

Now they’re a few hours into the party, hangout, whatever you want to call it. Technically, Connie was hosting, but Jean wanted to be included and take at least half the credit.

Snacks are scattered around the floor—Sasha was mostly to blame, and a few people are playing Cards Against Humanity.

He was sitting on the floor beside Eren and Reiner, saying very little, just commenting from time to time.

It’s only been a day since Armin cried in Eren’s Arms.

To say Armin was embarrassed was an understatement.

When Armin woke up, he found Eren sleeping peacefully next to him.

His sun-kissed skin, the freckles that litter the middle of his magical face—Armin needed to blink at least ten times to confirm this was real life.

He looked like an angel, perhaps even Sleeping Beauty; There aren't enough metaphors in the world to describe him.

Aphrodite has nothing on Eren Yeager.

Annie perks up at Jean, annoyance laced in her voice. “Are you serious..? Mine was the funniest. Reiner agrees.”

Reiner hummed, grabbing a bag of chips from the assortment of snacks gathered on a nearby table.

“Yeah, I mean, Jean, yours was kind of bad.”

“God. Don’t be a sore loser, Annie,” Jean says dramatically, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t care. Just stating the facts, horseboy.”

Their banter would usually make Armin wheeze, but all the weight from the past year came crashing down last night, and he can’t stop thinking about it.

He feels crushed.

No one noticed, thankfully; Sasha was too busy eating a mini-chocolate fudge cake with Connie and Mikasa, Marco was already dozing off, and Ymir and Historia left halfway in the game—the taller girl probably left with Historia somewhere.

Eren was distracted.

“Okay, can we just stop acknowledging the livestock in the room?” Eren says, clearly holding back a smirk.

Jean immediately reacts, “What did you just say, asshole?”

Everyone bursts into laughter.

“Uhhh, there’s something wrong with her,” Connie remarks, pointedly at Mikasa.

Sasha nods furiously, agreeing. “Is that normal?!”

When Armin glanced at Mikasa, she was consuming some vanilla cupcakes Marco brought for everyone, without a second thought.

Bertholdt laughs. “Mikasa, I didn’t know you liked sweets!”

Mikasa just hums in acknowledgment, finishing the cupcake and moving on to the next like a bizarre participant in an eating competition.

“It looks like you have a serious competitor, Sasha,” Eren comments, “I don’t think I’ve seen Mikasa eat like this in a long time. I kinda forgot she had this ability.”

“Competition? No! This means there’s finally someone on my level, someone who won’t bail on me after eating 5 servings of ramen.” Sasha contested, indirectly shading the boy sitting beside her.

Connie grabs his chest dramatically as if to act offended, “Excuse me?! I’m sorry my stomach isn't the size of a goddamn football team.”

“What are you saying? Are you saying I’m built like a quarterback?!”

Connie yells in disbelief, “LITERALLY WHO SAID THAT?”

Armin smiles as if he just got reminded of something.

“I’m not surprised. As kids, Mikasa would eat our leftover Halloween candy—which would usually be a lot,” he explains.

Everyone goes Oooohhh, as if this were life-altering information.

Annie, reluctantly, begins collecting everyone's respective cards. Armin catches her expression for just a second.

She smiles at him. She seems hopeful?

You shouldn’t have that much faith in me, Armin thinks.

Eren nods, putting his hand to his chin.

“Shit, you’re right, Minnie! I’d get insanely sick from overeating, and my mom would ban me from eating anymore. You’d try to help me but…”

“Let me guess,” Reiner interrupts, entertained, “You had the same fate, huh?”

“Gross. It’s like you two were made for each other.” Jean replies, a look of disgust shooting toward Eren, mostly.

Eren rolls his eyes and takes a sip of Sprite, “And what the hell is wrong with that? I’m guessing you were unloved as a child.”

“You would know, huh?” Jean says lightly, clearly not taking this seriously.

That triggered Eren, prompting him to raise his middle finger.

Mikasa momentarily stops eating, crossing her arms in disapproval, “What did you just say, Jean?”

Jean quickly shuts up.

She shakes her head. “Eren, you too.”

Eren responds by groaning dramatically, not bothering to say anything else.

“Oh, now you gotta back off before you get your ass beat, Jean,” Sasha adds.

This was normal bantering between Eren and Jean, though. Sometimes Mikasa would come to Eren’s rescue, per usual.

Eren relaxes, as if he isn’t fuming with rage, “Er ist gutaussehend, warum sollte ich das nicht tun? Ich bin ein Glückspilz.”

“What in the hell did you just say?”

Jean begins to complain about Eren not speaking English, calling him a coward and a cheater for saying it in a language he couldn’t understand.

Eren does this purposely; whenever he argues with Jean, switching to German tends to rile the boy up very quickly.

Connie side eyes Eren, giggling before he can even get his words out. Eren gives him a confused look.

“Eren, don’t you remember that I took German in high school?”

Immediately, Eren flushes, not quite knowing how to respond.

“Jean, Eren said—“

Eren tries to reach toward Connie, “CONNIE! WAIT A MINU—“

Armin hasn’t seen him move that quickly in a long time.

Connie tries his best to push Eren away. “—He said ‘What’s wrong with that, fuckface?’ Ha!”

When Armin looks at Eren again, he seems to be relieved. He sits down, letting out a deep breath.

Armin swears he hears him mumble Gott Sei Dank. Whatever that means. Armin guesses it’s the German equivalent of Thank goodness.

“Connie, I took German with you, that’s not what he s—“ Before Sasha could finish her sentence, Connie clasped his hands over her mouth, saying something Armin couldn’t quite decipher.

Armin, zoned out, didn’t really pay attention to why Eren would be relieved.

Or why Connie would lie about the sentence. He really didn’t care right now.

He thinks back to the conversation he and Annie had—the words ‘tell him’ being replayed over and over again like a scratched cassette player.

He’s so tired, he starts thinking about how he’ll find an opportunity to say it today. He’ll have to.

Even though Armin shivers at the thought of confessing.

Eren continues bantering with Jean. “Fick dich.”

“What?” Jean grabs a drink, “Let me guess. It means horse face.”

Eren grabs a few strands of hair and places them behind his ear. “No. It means fuck yourself, but I’m glad you’re finally feeling confident with your identity.”

Everyone in the circle laughs at that while Jean angrily flips Eren off, muttering to himself.

Whether it’s curses or not, Armin is enamored by Eren when he speaks his first language. It sounds beautiful. His voice is two notches deeper, a rich bass with a smoky undertone.

Armin could listen to him speak German all day.

But this really isn’t the time to start gushing over the guy who is causing him extreme emotional turmoil.

“FUCK YOURSELF? At least I’m not a lovey-dovey freak!” Jean shouts; one hand covering his face, the other pointing at Eren accusingly.

Eren laughs, “Lovey-dovey? I think you’re just not accustomed to any forms of affection.”

“Lovey-Dovey? ” Armin questions, his head spinning. He feels sick.

They’re clearly talking about him and Eren.

He didn’t want to hear any jokes about that, not now.

Reiner and Bertholdt laugh, but immediately deadpan when Sasha asks what the rules were for the game for the fifth time.

Jean drops it, but Connie stares at Eren for a bit, obviously holding back the urge to say something more.

Annie looks worried. She opens her mouth to say something, but instantly changes her mind.

Sasha ends up distracting everyone, and the topic is quickly forgotten.

With Armin deep in thought, Connie makes his way towards Eren’s other side, far from where Armin lies, whispering in his ear.

Eren is shoving Connie away with furrowed eyebrows and a blush, while spewing a wide variety of insults.

The uneasiness must have shown on his face, because before Armin knew it, Eren almost slung his arm around Armin, retracting once he realized what had happened last night.

That just made Armin feel worse. Eren probably feels like he wasn’t allowed to touch him anymore.

“Are you feeling okay, Min?”

“Mmmhgg..” Armin replies.

He can’t focus on his words.

His mind is jumbled. He wants to throw up. He wants to cry. He wants to kiss him. He wants to tell him the truth.

Armin feels like his body is being pulled from each limb all at once.

Suddenly, Mikasa speaks up. Probably noticing the state Armin was in. She hands him a bag of pretzels.

Mikasa, I love you, but what the hell am I supposed to do with pretzels? Armin questions.

He’s appreciative nonetheless, but even if he wanted to eat it, his appetite is nowhere to be found.

There’s a conversation being had right in front of him, yet all Armin can look at is Eren's gorgeous, long, silky hair and his bright oceanic eyes staring right at his own.

He hates it. Why can’t he stop? Why does he continue to torture himself like this? Over his best friend who doesn’t like him back?

He wants to, but he can’t stop staring. Eren has emerald eyes, the kind that catch flecks of light and turn them into golden sparks.

His nose, too. It fits perfectly on his face; Greek Gods clearly carved the bump on his nose, sculpting his face in an otherworldly way that completely hypnotizes Armin.

Okay, that’s enough.

After Armin doesn’t give a proper response, Eren raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, I'm good. You don’t have to keep looking at me like that,” Armin says absentmindedly, waving him off.

He forces a smile, then pushes away the shot Reiner poured for him just moments ago. The bulky football player got hit by Annie immediately after.

Reiner ends up taking it for himself. “What? It seemed like he could use a shot or two.”

His cheeks are flushed, and the room is scorching more than ever. Was it only him?

Armin starts adjusting the hem of his blue-white plaid shirt, avoiding eye contact at all costs. He pulls his shirt with his index and thumb, attempting to waft some air between his chest and shirt.

“Are you sweating?” Eren asks, concern evident in the way his thick brows furrow, “Here, drink this.”

He pulls a miniature bottle of water from the pocket of his hoodie.

Eren leans in, silently asking for permission to touch his hair.

Armin nods, takes the water, then looks away, smiling rather painfully.

“Thanks.”

Eren hums lightly, concentrating on fixing Armin’s side bangs.

“Can I trim your hair?”

“Uh, what?”

“Like. Whenever you want to cut the split ends. I wanna do it.”

For the first time today, Armin laughs. “Do you remember what happened when Mikasa let you cut her bangs?”

“It was a disaster,” Eren agrees, brushing his fingers through his hair one last time, “But that was like, when I was 15. We’re 20 now.”

“Well, you’re 20. I’m still 19.”

Eren scoffs humorously, “Okay, sorry, I forgot you’re a baby. Mister, my birthday is at the end of the year, and I never fail to mention it.”

Armin shoves Eren playfully, “Can’t have you guys forgetting.”

Armin giggles while Eren's teeth are showing, a big smile stretching across his face.

He thinks about it, but there’s no point. There’s no saying no to those deeply etched dimples.

Even if he knows Eren will probably fuck it up.

It wouldn’t hurt as much as this entire year has hurt him emotionally.

Eren suddenly shifts from beside Armin, standing. “We can go get some fresh air if you need it, y'know. They won’t be doing much after this.”

It’s a good idea, sure. But Armin doubts he’ll feel any less relieved when the reason he’s sweating is still next to him.

He agrees, anyway.

Logic and feelings don’t work together.

-

It’s been about 5 minutes since they stepped outside. They haven’t said much, but there’s a comfortable silence between them that neither of them wants to ruin. The two are close together, leaning on the guardrail on Jean’s balcony that seems dangerous ever since Sasha pushed Connie onto it a few weeks ago—but it isn’t that loose, so it’ll have to do.

It’s already midnight, and the air is a bit chilly. It’s spring, nearly summer—Eldia is hot regardless of the season—so at least they weren’t freezing.

However, Armin shivers a bit whenever the breeze washes over him, so Eren takes off his black hoodie and puts it over Armin. He took it reluctantly, thanked him, and leaned onto Eren like he usually does when they’re alone.

Armin looks at the taller guy. Now that they’re adults, Eren pretty much towers over Armin—like it or not.

Armin won’t admit it, but he actually prefers their height difference now.

When he meets those green eyes once again, it feels like Eren wants to say something.

“Ziemlich blau.”

That sobered Armin up from his mellow state immediately.

“Huh?”

“The color of your eyes, they’re called ‘Ziemlich blau’ in German.”

Armin hummed, not quite getting the point.

Eren notices Armin's confusion, so he continues.

“Sea blue—your eyes are beautiful like the sea, and they’re the same shade as it. It’s fitting, right?”

Armin chokes. “You think my eyes are beautiful?”

“Well duh,” Eren replies, stuttering a bit, “Who doesn’t?”

Eren says that so casually, like it wouldn’t do something to Armin’s heart.

“Oh,” Armin says, unsure. He’s clearly stunned by the declaration.

Armin notices a small change in Eren’s expression and quickly springs into action.

“I mean, Oh like, I’m surprised you would say that, haha. Thank you,” Armin quickly blurts out, “But every time we go to the sea, you’ve always told me a different word?”

“To be honest, this is more of a specific term,” Eren replies, and if Armin looks close enough, he can see a slight hint of pink on his cheeks.

“Minnie, you know—“

“Eren, I—“

They both stop, laugh, and shake their heads.

Eren puts an elbow on the railing, holding his cheek. “You can go first.”

Armin’s heart is about to explode. A layer of anxiety finds itself back deep within Armin. Can he actually do this? Right now, right now?

He feels his lips quiver and his legs start feeling weak. He’ll just have to say it.

Eren raises his voice. “Minnie?”

Armin uses his hand to gently rub his unoccupied arm. A soothing technique.

“Do you promise that, if you don’t like what I have to say, you’ll act like this never happened?”

“What—I mean—“

“Please, Eren.”

“Okay,” Eren says.

Armin takes a deep breath.

“For a long time, I—um, have really enjoyed hanging out with you,” Armin says, shaking, and already avoiding eye contact.

Armin takes off his glasses and inserts them in his pocket. “I don’t know how to say this… at all. God, oh my god.”

When Armin takes a tiny peek at Eren, it looks like he’s trying his best not to interrupt Armin; he’s grateful for that.

“I think—no, I do. I know I do,” He says, voice cracking, “I’ve known for a long time.”

“Eren, I really really really really do like you, and not as a best friend, but I know you don’t like me,” he starts, I just have to get it off my chest because I’ve been holding it in for long and I feel like I’m going to burst into flames when I’m around you.”

Armin is rambling. Panicking. “I don’t expect anything, and I’m sorry for keeping it from you. If you’re uncomfortable, I understand.”

At this point, Armin’s hands are twitching like crazy, and his whole body feels light and airy, like he could fall over at any time. He refuses to look at Eren; he just wants to run away.

He’s so sweaty. Going outside fixed nothing.

At least it’s all finally off his chest. However, Armin’s fears returned all at once. Would Eren be disgusted with him? Would he look at him differently after this?

Eren says nothing. Armin doesn’t know what kind of face he’s making, and he doesn’t want to know. He’s been preparing for this moment after all.

A minute that felt like 2000 years of complete silence passes, Armin finally cracks, and tries to run toward the door.

Eren grabs his wrist.

Armin stays, but is still looking away.

“Minnie, I—“

Armin pleads with him. “You don’t have to say anything, I told you. You can forget about this—“

“Minnie, can you just—you’re—stop. Be quiet for one second.”

Eren places his hand under Armin’s chin, bringing his entire face close.

“Okay, first of all, can I kiss you?”

“What?” Armin deadpans.

Eren bites the inside of his cheek, holding in a smirk. “Are you about to reject me after you confessed?”

“You’re—what?”

“Come on Armin, yes or no?” Eren whines, “I’m impatient.”

“What? Of course I’d wanna kiss you—“

Eren wastes no time leaning a few inches down, locking lips with Armin. The kiss is desperate, soft, but sweet.

Eren’s lips are soft, gentle, full of care, but straightforward, unshy—Eren Yeager in a nutshell.

Armin feels like he’s on cloud 9.

This can’t be real life.

They’re both clearly inexperienced, but when Eren slightly tilts his head to the side, they maintain a steady rhythm that continues until they’re out of breath.

There’s so much going on in Armin’s head. It feels like a dream. Unreal. He knew Eren wasn’t fucking around. That’s just not the type of person he was. So what the hell?

They look at each other after breaking apart, panting.

Eren is the first to speak.

“Minnie. This whole time I was trying to tell you. You’d think I’d be this clingy with anyone?” Eren asks, not expecting a serious answer.

Eren continues, staring into Armin's eyes, who is permanently frozen in shock. “Especially when I was practically on top of you that one time.”

“You’re kidding. Are you talking about when we watched those stupid ass movies?” Armin revealed.

Armin looks down, embarrassed. “I tried to push that out of my mind.”

Eren smiles at the thought of it. “Yes! It took so much in me to even wrap my arm around you so intimately. You didn’t notice?!!”

Well..

“I don’t know, really. I thought you were just really drunk and being extra clingy.”

“Jesus. If I were really drunk, I’d be calling Jean a cutiepie or some other insane shit, but wait, look, you don’t—I—did you talk to Annie?”

Armin still hasn’t processed any of this, but he replies with a ‘Yes.’

“I told her I liked you and what I should do since you’ve been around her lately.”

Armin’s eyes widened at that, “She never told me….”

“Of course she didn’t, but she told me she’d try to help me. Y’know, I wasn’t aware of Annie’s game. I should invite her to places more often.”

“Eren,” Armin says, not really paying attention to Eren’s rambling, “You like. me?”

“I guess I should slow down.”

Armin winces. “A little, please.”

They decide to walk to a nearby park to discuss.

Anything to make Armin’s jumbled mind return to normal.

It’s too unbelievable.

-

Upon their arrival, the two were completely silent. Not the weird kind of silence, though, the one where you know the other person really cares about you.

The type of silence you could never get bored with.

Eren pushes himself on the swing, almost getting his shoe stuck on a rock below.

The park was empty, as it should be—it’s nearly 1 AM. Armin was comfortable underneath Eren’s hoodie, a little calmer but still trying to fight against his weak knees.

Armin wondered if Eren was cold. He’s wearing a simple black T-shirt that accentuates his
build nicely, jeans that flare at the ends, with chains hanging from his pockets.

Nails painted black—that’s irrelevant, though.

Before Armin could ask, Eren started speaking.

“I’ve always liked you. Never thought you'd ever like me.”

“Me..? I don’t understand why. I’ve been nothing but a useless friend this entire time.”

Eren’s mouth opens in surprise, “Armin, you taught me how to love. You showed me how much beauty there is in the world, and spending time with you is all I care about. You don’t need to repay anything.”

Eren holds Armin’s hands, gently rubbing his knuckles.

Armin’s eyes are tearing up, but he quickly wipes it off his cheek, trying his best to keep it in.

“You’re smart, creative, friendly, all the things I’m not,” Eren continues, “I really wanted to tell you my feelings now that we’re adults. I guess it was a little selfish since I wanted to do it at a time when you might be seeing other people.

“Seeing other people?”

Eren bites his nail. “Even though she’s scary, I honestly thought you and Annie had something going on.”

Armin wheezed, his laughs turning into violent coughs.

“Um. You good?”

“Yes, yes. I’m just. Shocked—Genuinely can’t believe you thought Annie and I were… a thing?!?” She is literally a lesbian.”

“Oh, what the hell….? I swore Mikasa said something like that before, but then I saw you two being all close, and completely forgot.”

“She was actually giving me advice about you.”

Eren stares. “Oh.”

Armin takes a seat on the swing next to Eren, “I was really scared, I didn’t want to lose you. Not to be dramatic, but my whole world would’ve shattered if you said no.”

“Things probably wouldn’t have been the same,” Eren adds.

“Exactly, and um, yeah. I was—or maybe I still am, in this deep hole of self-hatred, according to Annie, and couldn’t fathom anyone liking me that way.”

Eren's lips turn downwards, and he shifts his head to the side as if to say ‘I can see that.”

Armin breaks from Eren’s grasp, leaning on a pole connecting the swings together. “But after last night, I was at my breaking point.”

“Minnie, why would you—you were crying because you thought I was going to leave you?”

“Pretty much,” Armin confirms, a bit embarrassed, “I guess you can call me selfish for being able to fall asleep with you like that while not even knowing your feelings.”

“Please,” Eren says, amused. “Anyone with half a brain would reciprocate your feelings.”

Armin laughs weakly; his voice was fucked up because of last night, but now it’s even worse.

Eren sits on a swing, starts twisting himself in a circular motion, the chains twisting and tangling with each other.

“I really, really like you. I wish I had said it sooner.”

“Same here,” Armin says, mimicking Eren’s movements.

“Just so you know, mostly every time I spoke German around you, I was calling you pretty, beautiful, stuff like that.”

Armin’s jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

Eren nods, face reddening.

“I thought you were just speaking to yourself, honestly, I didn’t bother trying to translate.”

“Well, I’m glad, because that would’ve complicated things for me. I wanted to confess on my own.”

Armin hums softly.

A comfortable silence ensued for a few minutes until Eren sat up. He motions for for Armin to do the same.

“C’mere.”

Eren places a kiss on Armin’s cheek, cheesing right after.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Armin doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he just stands there, blushing. Mind in utter disarray.

“Armin,” Eren gulps, “I am seriously in love with you. From your beautiful blue eyes, to your frequent, random ramblings about octopuses having three hearts, I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful and intelligent person to have in my life.”

“You’re thoughtful, kind—you’re a piece of my heart I could never live without.”

Hearing the word love fills Armin with a sort of happiness he hasn’t felt before.

All these sweet words, Eren really felt this way the whole time?

He feels so stupid.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

Armin says yes, obviously. They kiss again, this time it’s a quick, chaste one. Still, Armin can’t get enough of Eren.

Why do people do drugs when this exists?

They slowly walk back to Connie’s dorm, hands intertwined. Arms touching and glances being exchanged every 10 seconds.

Armin stops.

“Eren, do you remember what you promised to me as kids?”

“Uhh, lowkey depends. I’ve made so many promises to you.”

“The one where you said, verbatim, ‘If we don’t get a girlfriend when we’re older, let’s marry each other,’ and then you ran away, I chased after you.”

Eren is shocked and can barely form any words. “Minnie, you actually fucking remember that? Of course I do, but I didn’t think you did. That was my childish attempt at a confession.”

“Huh?! Okay, why am I not surprised?” Armin questions, “You didn’t even let me respond.”

Armin goes on. “And, of course I did! I still think about that from time to time.”

Eren practically bursts into laughter at the reminder, “I know, why did I run away? That was so stupid.”

Eren then pulls Armin into a big hug—being about 6 inches taller has its perks.

He smiles warmly, placing his hand on the back of Armin’s head.

“That’s a promise I will surely deliver.”

Armin smiles against Eren’s chest, “Pinky promise?”

Eren moves away from his boyfriend, sticking out his pinky and wrapping it around Armin’s.

“Pinky promise.”

-

When they arrive at Connie’s place, they don’t say anything, but the air is heavy. Their friends look at them with expectant eyes.

Oh god, did they hear?

Eren reads the situation, looks at Armin for permission, and he nods.

“Okay, okay. Just stop staring, you all look creepy. We’re together now, okay? He’s my boyfriend now—“

Before Eren can finish his sentence, everyone jumps up in shock, yelling.

Connie jumps from the floor. “Oh, I knew you could do it, Eren!”

Eren is confused. “What?”

“WHO CONFESSED FIRST? You’re moving too fast, Connie,” Reiner intervenes.

Eren looks at the two pathetically, crossing his arms. “Did you fucking bet on us? Oh, you guys are idiots.”

“So who was it?” The pair says at the same time, creepily enough.

Eren grabs a nearby pillow and throws it at Jean’s face.

Meanwhile…

“Armin,” Annie and Mikasa walk up to Armin, “Are you okay?” They say in unison.

Annie looks at Eren menacingly, then back at Eren.

It’s her way of asking if Eren hurt him in any way.

Armin is high on adrenaline; he can barely put a coherent sentence together. “Yeah, hah— don’t worry— it’s all okay.”

Mikasa and Annie look at each other, raising an eyebrow at the same time.

Mikasa stretches her arms upwards, slightly moaning. “We kinda heard some of your conversation, you guys were pretty passionate.”

Armin freezes. “Oh.”

“It’s okay, loosen up. We didn’t hear much, but from what we heard, you seemed upset, so I was worried,” Annie reassures.

Armin lets out a breath.

“I’ve been caught up in my own world, school is beating my ass—I really never saw this coming,” Mikasa starts, “You guys seemed gay, yeah, but I thought you guys had some type of unlabeled homoerotic relationship.”

“I just never questioned it. I’m so stupid sometimes,” She adds.

“Don’t say that, Mikasa. Although that assumption is insanely ridiculous,” Armin grimaces.

Annie genuinely wheezes at that. “That’s so in character for Mikasa, though.”

Mikasa blushes, then decides to pull them into a group hug.

Annie shrieks—Armin forgot she’s not a big hugger, but she doesn’t let go, instead reciprocates the gesture.

-

Eren was officially his boyfriend. Eren? The person he thought would never have eyes for him, liked Armin?

Armin could scream.

Except he couldn’t because he was currently lying in bed with said boy.

The party ended around 2 AM, and the pair headed home. Mikasa said she was going to stay at Annie’s, okay, go you Mikasa, so they have the apartment to themselves.

Armin didn’t say much the entire drive home. Eren only asked if he wanted any music. Armin shrugged, unable to make eye contact with his boyfriend.

He was relieved, but he knew he’d start laughing uncontrollably if he looked at Eren for too long.

That’s how happy he was.

Armin starts tracing lines on Eren’s bicep, going in a back-and-forth motion. “We used to do this without the label. It’s kind of ridiculously gay.”

“True,” Eren agrees, pushing one of Armin’s stray hairs away from his face. Everything about the action makes butterflies flutter in Armin’s stomach.

A comfortable silence.

Then…

“You’re so—I’m sorry, I can’t get enough of you. How are you even real?” Eren blurts out.

“I can’t believe you even said yes, not to mention liked me back the entire time.”

Armin has no idea how to respond to such a bold statement, so he opts to bring Eren closer to kiss him.

The kiss is deep, and they both unconsciously start opening their mouths more until their tongues dance ceremoniously, as if this were a ritual they had performed a hundred times before. Eren pulls away, swiftly aiming for Armin’s neck, but is quickly pushed to the side.

Armin laughs loudly. “THAT. TICKLES.”

Eren flops back down on his pillow, grinning. He’s happy, Armin can tell.

Then, the German boy who possesses the prettiest face imaginable presses a soft kiss on Armin’s forehead.

Armin’s happy, and everything that could’ve gone wrong was nothing but Armin’s insecure fantasies rooted in insecurity.

He wasted all that time thinking about scenarios rooted in insecurity—All that time, and for what? Look at them now.

He couldn’t be happier.