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Floch's body burned with embarrassment. Armin's cold, clammy hand held tightly onto his, like it was his last time ever touching the ginger. Tunes of bar shanties danced in the air. The oxygen around the two men felt heavy, suffocating. What felt like a lump choked at Floch's throat. How was he going to do this?
"Babe-" Armin huffed, "y-you're pulling too hard on my hand. Could you slow down some?"
Floch could feel Armin's feet skipping against the asphalt of his parking lot. He just wanted to get the conversation over with. Nothing more, nothing less. Avoiding conflict at any cost was his best bet.
The duo had been dating for a little less than two weeks. The second Floch's eyes settled onto Armin's, he knew he was a goner. Quick, stolen glances, the gentle brushing of each other's hands... Floch wanted it all. He could finally be in a relationship, free of judgement.
Well, he could. Armin still hadn't known. The blond hadn't known that Floch was a trans man. Hopefully, Armin wouldn't mind. Floch wouldn't know the first thing to do if Armin left his side. He was completely and utterly stuck with the man.
"Uh, yeah. Sorry about that." Floch let go of Armin's hand and rummaged in his pocket. His house keys found their way into Floch's grasp, inserting and unlocking his dorm room entrance.
The ginger's neck dripped with sweat. It felt as if God above dumped a full bucket of water on his head, dousing him for the sole purpose of embarrassing him. His cheeks lit the same color as his hair, turning him into an orangish-reddish mess.
Armin entered the room first and Floch followed shortly after. Floch's room radiated manly musk. Poster's of famous WW2 figures were plastered in every corner of his abode. His taste was dingy, to say the least.
Armin spotted Floch's bed and sat, making himself comfortable. He eyed Floch with confusion and a hint of worry.
"You look a little red. Do you have something on your mind?"
Floch shook with anxiety, bobbing his leg in place. He stood in front of his bed wiping the sweat off his neck.
"Armin, I really, really like you."
"I like you too."
"I know you do."
"Look, listen," Floch hesitated, looking over at his posters, picturing some stupid, bigoted general looming over his shoulder, giving him silent guidance. "I..."
"You..?
The ginger flinched, avoiding all eye contact. "I'm..."
"You're..?"
Floch swallowed his pride and said a silent prayer, "I'm transgender. Female to male."
A pregnant pause hesitated in the air. Armin shifted on the bed, turning his head to the other side of his neck, eyeing Floch.
"Okay," the blond shrugged.
"Okay?" Floch bore a look of confusion into Armin's eyes. "Y-You aren't mad?"
Armin chuckled to himself, crossing his legs. "Why would I be mad?"
The ginger slowly trailed a path to his bed. The mattress below him sank as he lowered his body on the bed. "You're a cis guy. I just thought-"
"You thought completely wrong."
A small smile creeped onto Floch's face. His heart fluttered and the lump in his throat disappeared. Armin placed his hands on Floch's pasty cheeks, beaming at him with the kindness of a thousand souls.
"You are perfect the way you are. Inside and out. I don't care what you have down there. I care about you."
Floch let out a scoff of hot air in attempt to hide his embarrassment. Flattery went a long way, but with Armin, it always stuck with him.
"I care about you too."
Armin pressed a gentle kiss to Floch's mouth, savoring the small film of strawberry chapstick on the ginger's chapped lips.
"I love you, Floch."
Hell, if Floch had a tail, it'd be wagging like crazy. He couldn't hide his giddiness any longer.
"I love you too."