bananntoo

You liked how tempting he looked in the dark—eyes half-lidded and attractive, shadows contouring his face—and how tantalizing the situation was, how intimate he made it.

The recent lack of love in your life must be taking a toll on you because you didn't mind doing…whatever that was with your long-time best friend. 

All while you had a crush on your other best friend. 

You were fucked.

"There's sushi in the fridge if you want some," Connie blurted, switching on the TV and collapsing onto his couch, where he watched you from your spot by the kitchen counters. "It's the good kind."

You had been grabbing a drink before Armin had invaded your mind, and you were glad that someone could finally push you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, do you want me to bring it out?" you asked, referring to the coffee table laid with plates of snack food. 

"No, that's the good sushi. I only wanted to ask you."

From behind you, the shrill beep of the microwave resounded throughout the kitchen, followed by Jean's gruff, sardonic voice. "Don't fall for it. He's just trying to butter you up."

"Am not!" Connie rolled his eyes. "I'm sure doing it better than you ever can," he mumbled lowly.

You sent him a glare.

"You can keep your fancy sushi, Connie,” you playfully scoffed, moving towards his sprawled-out form on the couch and sinking into the cushion beside him.

Only a few of your friends were already here at Connie and Jean’s shared apartment for the planned hangout, and you were the third to arrive. 

It was late evening, just an hour after sundown, and the slow warmth from the night outside bled into the living room's atmosphere. Beside you, Connie rambled about some show he watched as he carelessly scrolled through Netflix titles, the sound of previews playing loudly from the speakers. Across from you, Sasha sat curled into her seat while Jean griped about the food he microwaved for her from inside the kitchen, but he only went ignored as she cackled at something on her phone.

If you listened closely enough, you could hear Ymir sneeze from inside the bathroom.

You loved nights like these. It truly felt like summer, just you and your little group of friends. The picture was candid and carefree, a nostalgic reminiscence of your teen self instead of the adulthood you were approaching.

You hoped everyone would arrive soon because you were looking forward to this night for some odd, cheesy, unexplained reason.

At the thought of seeing Armin, your stomach churned. But like the invasive, overpowering person that Eren was, thoughts of him suddenly intruded your mind instead, and the feeling in the pit of your stomach only intensified. When you weren’t thinking of Armin, you were thinking of Eren.

Your phone lit up.

Two texts from Eren.

Of course. Speak of the devil—for the nth time again. He somehow managed to show up at both the right and wrong times. Every time the situation called for it, he always appeared. 

Tapping on the notification, you were greeted with a video followed by a text message that read, “on our way.” 

Our?

The video was his front view from the passenger seat of a car, the road and blocks of storefronts—a location you very distinctly recognize—moving past the window as the car drove forward. But what stood out to you was the little stuffed animal keychain that hung from the rearview mirror along with other cute decorations: a silly-looking My Little Pony plushie. 

Was this Mikasa’s car?

A strange feeling grew in your stomach, twisting and churning until you felt your heart finally sink. You shouldn’t have been disappointed since they were friends and all, but you couldn’t help the little pang in your heart. If anything, this was expected of them, and you just happened to notice it more due to your recent confession.

That damn My Little Pony plushie. 

You kept staring at your screen, long enough for Connie to peek over your shoulder.

"Damn, I didn't know you were a brony."

You quickly retracted your phone, whipping your head around. “Quit stalking! I'm not a brony. And neither is Mikasa."

"That’s Mikasa? Is she on her way then?” He punched your arm. “Finally!" 

You shot him a perplexed look, confused at his odd show of excitement. "Don’t get too excited, Mr. Pissed-His-Pants,” you retorted sarcastically.

Connie’s face suddenly contorted to something mortified and alarmed, mouth agape with creased lines on his forehead. "You saw the picture? Listen, it’s not what it looks like! Sasha spilled her drink on me and thought it’d be funny to say that I pissed myself, I swear. Dude, Sasha needs to stop spreading that picture around. She lied to me, too. She said she didn’t send it to anybody, but as soon as Eren sent me that picture, I—”

Light knocks at the front door suddenly cut Connie’s rambling off. 

Connie shot you a knowing glare, and his expression told you everything you needed to know. 

“Fine, I’ll get it,” you huffed, standing up. 

The doorknob wriggled under your fingers as you twisted it, and the door flew open with more force than you’d intended. 

Armin.

You looked at him wide-eyed, more shocked that it was him in the flesh and not because you hadn’t meant to open the door so harshly.

He matched your surprise, staring at you with doe-eyed confusion, hands in his pockets, but it quickly morphed into a suave smile. You noticed he ditched his glasses today. Probably swapped out for contacts.

"Hey."

Armin looked you up and down, fleetingly, in the usual way that he looked anybody up and down. 

But you swore it was different this time. A hint of something teasing laced in his keen pupils, a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. 

Moving back from the open door, you cleared your throat. “Hey, Armin.” 

He stepped in, just once, before running a hand through his hair. A nervous tick. He’d been doing that a lot lately. 

“Armin?!” Connie blurted, dumbstruck. He scrambled up onto his feet and bounded over to where Armin stood, who only gave him a small smile. “New haircut? You’re sexy, man.”

“Thank you.” Armin laughed shyly, looking Connie up and down, but not in the way he looked you up and down. 

“Woah, Armin!” Sasha, no longer glued to her phone, stood up from her seat. Next thing you know, she was grabbing onto Armin’s shoulders and squinting at his side profile. 

“Fade so good she had to inspect it.” Connie snorted and slapped Armin’s back, hard, and when you were expecting him to jolt forward, he stood, steady, a glint of unfamiliar irritation in his blue eyes. Oh. You sometimes forgot how strong he was.  

Sasha finally released her grip on Armin’s shoulders when Jean stalked out of the kitchen, saying, “You look good, bro.”

Connie sniffed. “I smell bromance.” 

Jean was quick to retort something bitter, and then it was that same routine of insults and banter between the two. But your attention shifted to Armin, who watched your friends joke around with an amused crinkle in his eyes. 

Sensing your gaze, he turned to look right at you, and before you could even speak, images of last night replaced his figure in front of you: that dark, hot, expression of his that you tried to bury. You attempted to speak again, but it was futile because you’d already forgotten what you were about to say. 

“You okay?” He nudged you on the arm with the back of his fingers, concerned. “What are you thinking about?”

At that, your eyes widened. You couldn’t look at him anymore or you’d start thinking about him again. Damn him for saying that. 

His brow lifted slightly. “Nothing bad…right?” he asked, cautious. His words sounded reassuring, but the sudden smile that crept onto his face said otherwise. It was almost as if he was teasing you. 

And you should’ve been less obvious, but you quickly looked to the side in shame. It was weird seeing this side of him. 

Did he know? As perceptive as he was, he still couldn’t possibly know.

Unsure of what to say, you rasped out, “No, nothing bad.”

A lapse of silence that bordered on awkward followed suit, but Armin was quick to change the subject. “Eren and Mikasa are on their way.” 

“Oh. I know.” You paused. “Did he send you a video, too?”

He nodded. “Yeah, why?”

You peeked at your surroundings to see if your friends were near you, and to your relief, Jean, Sasha, and Connie were all huddled near the tiny dining area, far enough and loud enough for them to not hear. 

Turning back to him, you shrugged. “Because I’m such a hypocrite. I’m over here worried about them being together and alone all the time, but you know, we’re doing that. They probably don’t like each other like I’m thinking.”

He nodded slowly, skeptically, then smiled softly. “Yeah, yeah. No, you’re right. It’s most likely nothing. You’re just…paranoid. Your brain is just making things up. That’s all.” 

“You don’t sound too sure.” You chuckled, turning around and throwing yourself back onto the couch. He followed you and sat down, legs slightly spread with a clasped palm resting in between. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” Armin paused, not quite meeting your eyes. He looked away. “They don’t like each other.”

You doubted the confidence in his statement. 

“That was the worst shit of my life,” came a voice in the hallway. Ymir walked out, wafting a hand over her nose. “Don’t go in there.” 

Jean made a noise of disgust. “Gross. That’s my bathroom.”

Ymir stepped a foot forward before fully stopping, raising a halfway, accusing finger as she stared dead straight at Armin. “That’s new.” She spared a knowing glance to you, to which you furrowed your brows. “Trying to look good for someone?” 

You put two and two together, immediately averting your gaze when you realized what she meant.

“What, no!” Armin shook his head. “I just—I just wanted to.”

She didn’t look too convinced, but before anyone could say anything, there was a knock on the door yet again. You nudged Armin. 

“I’ll get it,” he announced.

It was Eren and Mikasa. 

Unconsciously, your face lit up at the sight of Eren. He looked good, in the usual collectedness of his demeanor that contrasted the messiness of his tied-up hair. 

His mouth opened, but for a second, the words died in his throat as he finally took in the sight of the blonde standing right in front of him. 

“You cut your hair?! Since when?”

Mikasa peeked out from over Eren’s shoulder, brows lifting in surprise. 

Armin sheepishly smiled. “Just recently.” He opened the door wider as he stepped back. 

“And you didn’t tell us?” Eren raised a brow, smiling nonetheless.

“Surprise.” Armin’s smile multiplied tenfold, and he was all teeth now, grinning like he was proud of himself.

“I think it really suits you,” Mikasa added.

“Yeah, I agree.”

Everyone greeted the two, and there was a new commotion in the apartment space, bustling and familiar, a distinct aura that only seemed to appear when Eren walked into a room. Great, another dot to the list of things you liked about him.

Armin finally sat back down next to you, snug against your side. 

Eren found a way to your other side, and when Mikasa sat down next to him, he scooted toward you, squishing your limbs together as he attempted to make room.

There was a moment of silent shuffling that everyone followed as Armin scooted further down to make space for all four of you. 

You were now sandwiched—practically squeezed—between the two most conflicting boys in your life right now. On your right was the guy you liked, and on your left was your relationship mentee and potential—

Would you ever help me physically?

—friends with benefits. 

It was even worse to actually think about it. You didn’t need to say it out loud for it to sound embarrassing. It wasn’t that having a friends-with-benefits relationship was embarrassing, but that it was with Armin Arlert. And it hadn’t even started yet. 

You squeezed your thighs together. 

“You guys wanna play a game?” Connie threw two controllers in your direction before picking one up for himself. He sat down on the adjacent couch. 

Eren laughed out of his nose, retorting, “Well, you already gave us the controllers, so we don’t have a choice, do we?” 

You watched again as Connie scrolled through a list of game titles. 

But you were all too aware of the bodies pressed against you, shoulders caging you in, almost as if you were under them. 

Feeling uncomfortable, you stood up. What you didn’t know was that at the other end of the couch, Mikasa shifted in her seat, which prompted Eren to scoot your way. And in the process of you standing up, Eren’s body knocked right into yours, catching you off balance. And then there was something firm beneath your thighs when you fell, nothing like the softness of the couch cushion. 

Hands quickly came to brace your hips.

You were basically sitting on half of Armin’s lap, straddling his thigh as he caught you. Your hand instinctively shot out to support you, landing on his other leg.

“Oh,” you said before you even realized it. And the hands on your hips left as quickly as they came. 

“Oh,” he repeats. “Sorry. Careful.”

You fully stood up now, sparing a glance at Eren like you did something wrong, but before your eyes could meet his, he abruptly turned away, like he was caught red-handed. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed, but with your back to Armin and the delay in your response and the whole falling-into-his-lap thing, you wondered if you made it more awkward.

Because it definitely was awkward. Especially with whatever there was between you two. 

You stalked into the kitchen and hoped that you’d find something to do. 

“Y/N, can you get the good sushi?” Connie waved you off, not even offering you a single glance. Judging by the fact that he’d been oddly quiet, he probably hadn’t seen what happened. 

You rolled your eyes but were thankful that you now had a real excuse to be in the kitchen.

There was a sudden wave of new voices from behind the front door, and a series of knocks followed right after. 

Armin stood up again to open the door. 

And as soon as he did, four people that you hadn’t been expecting walked through. Reiner, Bertholdt, Historia, and Annie. This was a perfect opportunity for Armin. 

“Oh, hi guys,” Armin greeted, pausing, eyes panning over the blonde girl. “Hi, Annie.” 

You chimed in a quick greeting, too, watching as Bertholdt and Annie took the seats where you and Armin once sat with Reiner next to Connie on the loveseat.

That left Armin without a spot, standing aimlessly, as he spared you a glance through the kitchen’s pass-through window. 

The moment you made eye contact, though, he came closer. For a moment—and only a moment, your breath constricted in your throat and you stilled in anticipation for a reason you couldn’t even explain. Maybe because then you would be alone with him. Before you could process it, Armin was standing right next to you. 

His lips parted to speak but closed the moment you tugged on his sleeve.

“Hey.” You pulled him deeper into the kitchen, leaning in. “This is your chance. Annie’s here. Talk to her, get closer to her…make a move.” 

He visibly gulped at your words, shooting a wary glance to the side. 

“But everyone’s watching.” 

“That’s why you have to be subtle,” you suggested, to which Armin only raised a confused brow. “Sit next to her—like, really close. Maybe if we’re watching something, you could like, whisper in her ear. Or maybe teach her how to play a video game. Annie’s not with our group that much, so just make her feel welcome.”

“Okay. I’ll try,” he breathed, quiet, and you finally realized how close he stood to you and how close you had pulled him in. 

Your mind wandered to him again—him asking you such an outrageous, yet tempting, question, almost kissing you, and being so intimate with you.

Now that you’d seen him in a different light, it was hard to suppress thoughts like these. 

In a different light.

Wasn’t that his goal the whole time? To be seen more like this? You wondered if he even needed your help because, right now, it seemed like he had already achieved his goal. 

Suddenly, he tapped your waist. 

“You’re spacing out again.” 

But you didn’t reply. No, instead—it was almost instinctive the way you did it—your gaze fell to his lips, bouncing right back to his eyes when you realized what you did. 

His brows rose by just a fraction, and his gaze shot to your lips, almost like it was instinct. You watched his throat bob, just as breathless as you were, before his eyes flitted back at you again. There was longing in the way he stared at you, so evident and bright in his blue irises. 

“Do you…”

He trailed off, an unsure look painted on his face. 

This was really bad timing, but you were just so swept away. You don’t entirely know what or why, but it was along the lines of wanting to just kiss him—be close to him—or the thrill of just doing it behind everyone’s back.

“I know you want it,” he breathed, regaining his composure.

It was sinful. His voice dropped an octave, reduced to a raw whisper. You didn’t think he meant for it to sound this provocative and straightforward—or did he? You didn’t expect this, especially coming from him of all people. 

It. He knew you wanted it. It wasn’t “I know you want to” but “I know you want it.” And with the way he spoke to you, it could mean a lot of things.

You swallowed the lump that was building in the back of your throat, taking a sidelong glance at the direction your friends were in.

The living room and kitchen were obscured by a wall, with half of it being a kitchen pass-through window. You were standing just to the side of the window, so if anyone looked in, they wouldn’t be able to see you two.

Right out of eyeshot and—hopefully—earshot. 

You felt hands slide onto your waist, slow, delicate, and reluctant. Almost inexperienced, if you could put it that way.

And then you heard footsteps approaching. 

Quickly pushing him away, you whirled around, facing the fridge directly behind you, and opened the doors in an attempt to look busy. The plate of sushi. Right. What you came for in the first place. 

“You’re so obvious, Armin.” 

You stilled for a moment, sushi plate halfway in your hands, because you recognized this voice all too well, even when it was hushed, and after a second too long, you finally processed the words. Wary, unblinking, you turned around, letting the fridge shut on its own.

Eren stopped to bend down and grab a water bottle, eyes locked on you the entire time. 

“What?” Armin gasped.

“I know you like her.” Eren shrugged.

You looked at Armin expectantly, caught off guard by Eren, but you couldn’t see his face from this angle. 

“Do you mean Annie?” you asked. 

Eren was aware of Armin’s crush; that was common knowledge. She was the only person he could possibly be referring to. Unless he was talking about…

You really wanted to know what expression Armin was making, and your confusion only doubled when Eren’s gaze drifted to your form. 

Unless he was talking about you?

“Nothing. You know what.” Eren’s eyes were still on you when he popped open the cap and took a gulp of his water. 

“You could at least keep it down a little…” Armin cautioned, voice low in a whisper. 

A haughty, coy smirk crept up his lips, not directed toward you, but to Armin. “You should at least make a move tonight.” 

He shrugged again and stepped out of the kitchen.

“Um, okay. I will,” Armin answered, so faint it was as if it were to himself.

Eren didn’t spare a glance back. 

You were standing there still clutching onto the cold plate of sushi, focused on the back of his head. “That was weird. Is he in on this?” Your voice dropped to the quietest whisper you could muster. “Does he know about our…”

“No, no,” Armin answered quickly, shaking his head as he turned to you fully. “It’s only between you and me.” 

You muttered an “okay” before you moved past him and into the living room, but as you walked back, you let your head fall in the gutter, and you felt it again now—your heart sinking, stomach churning. The plate was cold under your fingertips, a sensation that brought you back to reality about what just happened. What could’ve happened. 

Your lips pressed together on their own—in some shameful, self-aware way. Because your lips were just a second from being on his.

The living room filled your ears with blurts of cries and cheers of what you assume must be a really competitive game of Mario Kart. You placed the sushi plate onto the table, and someone screamed at you to not block the screen, but Connie was nowhere to be seen.

The seating had changed now: some of your friends had switched around, and the rest were missing.

But that wasn’t important. The only important thing was that someone left the spot next to Eren empty and the spot next to Annie, who moved to the other couch, empty. 

A perfect setup for you and Armin. 

Armin, who you had been getting a little too close to. Who you couldn’t help but want. You wanted him as much as you wanted to help him.

You slid in next to Eren, so naturally and effortlessly that when your thighs and arms met, he wouldn’t have suspected a thing. Because either way, this was normal; you were friends, and that should’ve been enough of a reason for you to be close to him. 

In full swing, Armin followed right after, sitting next to Annie—not touching, but a safe distance between them. And for once, as you put the weird tension aside, you were content for the night. 

As per tradition, Connie put on a movie, all lights turned off. This was the last movie of the night, a “really funny one” as quoted by Connie himself.

Every time you laughed, you immediately self-sabotaged and glanced at the loveseat, where Armin at Annie sat, brushing shoulders, to see if they were laughing, too. And every time, you heard it louder than your own. You were torn between supporting his advancements and indulging this sense of… selfishness.

You felt the same way about Armin as you do with Eren—felt this strange possessiveness. He was your best friend. And seeing him with someone else made you feel a word you didn’t want to think aloud.

Even though it was the whole point of your agreement, Armin was coming to you just to end up with another girl in the end.

They were close now, smushed together because Sasha wedged herself in the other end of the couch, but she wasn’t part of their world. Armin did exactly what you told him, talking lowly in her ear about God knows what.

You were spiraling. You thought of the almost-kiss from last night, the lap incident, the almost-kiss from earlier, and Eren’s odd comment, and you wondered if Armin was affected, too, just as delirious as you were right now.

Eren was lightly snuggled up right beside you and you to him. You had better things to worry about, like enjoying Eren’s closeness. Granted, Mikasa sat on his other side, but you needed to remember she was your best friend, too. 

You turned to talk to Eren, but you were immediately met with green eyes, familiar and watchful. His eyes widened ever-so-minutely, frozen for a second, and flitted to a spot behind you. You didn’t even have to look to know who he was looking at. 

Shit, did he catch you staring?

He leaned into your ear. “What are you doing for the rest of the night?” His voice was a prickle against the skin of your earlobe, all low and husky and warm. 

“Nothing,” you whispered. “Why?” 

“Just asking. We”—he gestured to himself, you, Mikasa, and Armin—“could go somewhere or do something after.”

“It’s midnight.”

“So?”

“I have work in the morning.”

On that cue, the movie ended, music blaring, as the end credits rolled in. Connie had been torturing everyone with movies back-to-back. The kitchen and living room were a scattered, trashy mess of cans and bottles, stacked with empty pizza boxes. 

You stood up and stretched, and several of your friends followed.

Jean had already retreated to his room for the night, and some others had left earlier; you were just one of the stragglers that stayed behind. 

The lights switched on with a flick, and chatter resumed. Judging from the tired sag on everyone’s faces, you knew this was the end of the night. 

Armin was the first to go. “I’m going to head home now. Bye, guys!”

As soon as he finished that sentence, his gaze darted to you for a brief moment. And a little awkward.

You didn’t like this tension between the two of you. But at the same time, you didn’t hate it either.

Your friends said goodbye to him like it was the most casual thing ever, and then he was gone. Seeing him leave early, you felt…sad. Even though he was the one missing out, you felt like you were missing out on him. The movie just ended, but you planned to talk a little more before you left. 

Eren came up from behind you. “So, you don’t want to come to my house? I’m gonna text Armin if he wants to, too.”

You startled before peering at him. As much as you wanted to, and as much of a tempting invitation that was to hear from Eren, you needed rest.

“For what?”

“Late night swim in my pool. Like we all used to.” 

“But I have work,” you sighed. “How about tomorrow?”

He sighed, too. 

“Fine.” 

You helped throw away the main horde of trash, because knowing Connie and Jean, they probably wouldn’t clean it up until the next morning. Or the next. 

The moment you said your goodbyes and closed the door, you were ready to unwind from all of the little things that happened. 

But before you even got to your car, you spotted something. 

Was that Armin’s car? 

From what you saw from his window, Armin only sat there, still and contemplative, reclined against his seat, for a reason you didn’t know except that it was just like him to do so. You wondered why he hadn’t driven off yet.

He must’ve caught your reflection in the side mirror because his shoulders jolted in surprise, and he turned to you with an expression that melted from listlessness to outright relief. The window rolled down, and you greeted him with a smile that he reciprocated a little too quickly. 

“Hey. You left so fast. I still wanted to talk to you,” you said. The scent of his cologne wafted to you in an almost comforting yet overwhelming way, but you ducked down to lean further into it. 

He sat up straight, and his head came closer to yours as a result. “Really?” It was boyish—the way he said it, soft and almost sad. “Then…what are you doing for the rest of the night?”

“Nothing,” you replied. “Going home.”

“Can I come over?” 

You shot him a look of surprise. The skeptical part of your brain was nudging you, asking you how such a good opportunity like this was actually presenting itself to you. But the giddy pounding in your heart was desperate to let something good happen—to resolve this weird magnetism. 

“You want to?” You sucked in a breath. Now you felt bad for saying no to Eren, but you knew that swimming at his house would mess up your sleep schedule even more. “Okay, but you can’t stay for long. I have work in the morning.” 

As long as he stayed for just a little, it’d be fine. 

“Okay.” A flush of pink steadily rose to his cheeks. “Thank you.”

The whole walk back to your car—no, the whole drive back to your apartment, you were reeling in disbelief. Because you knew something was bound to happen and he was going to ask more from you and the kitchen situation from earlier was left unspoken. 

You arrived and piled out of your car. In the distance, he parked and quickly hopped out, jogging to you. 

“Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you with this. I just…” He trailed off. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh yeah, how’d it go with Annie?” 

“It was fine. She’s hard to open up. I think I was just saying the wrong things.”

“No, no, I can tell she’s just a reserved person. Did you take my advice from yesterday?”

“Um, yeah I did. I tried my best, at least, but I felt like I was overly nice.” He chuckled dryly.

“It’s fine. At least you’re one step closer.”

He hummed in response, shrugging, watching you fiddle with your keys in the doorknob. You both got a whiff of warm apartment air as soon as it unlocked. It was dark and empty; your roommate wasn’t returning until tomorrow. 

His hands found purchase in his pockets, eyes looking around idly. “Wow, I haven’t been here in a while.”

“Yeah, sorry. My roommate is always home, and she doesn’t like guests. But she’s not home right now.”  

You immediately curled up into your couch and closed your eyes, sleepiness washing over you like a tide. The cushions dipped beneath your body as Armin took a seat. 

You could fall asleep like this. You’d even let him sleep right here, too.

It was silent for a while. The more it prolonged, the more you started to tense. 

His voice cut through the silence like a knife. “Hey, sorry for earlier. Back at Connie’s. I don’t know what came over me.” 

Your eyes shot open, but you stayed curled up, quiet, because you truthfully didn’t have an answer. This conversation was bound to be brought up. You slowly untangle yourself from your position, sitting up. 

“No,” you denied. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me either. You don’t have to apologize at all.” An instinctive gulp hit you quickly and forced saliva down your throat, and you were just there, choked up over your choice of words. 

“I—I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. That was really unlike me. It’s good that…it was you, at least.” 

Whatever force came over him at that moment…was working. His advances were working. All Armin needed to do was to let that confidence take him over again—to let himself be bold. You shook your head. Neither of you looked at each other—just sitting, talking. And there was something thick and unspoken in the air, resting heavy on your shoulders. 

“Armin, I don’t even know why you need my help. I can already see you in a different…” You backtracked, stepping over your words. It was hard to be transparent without making things weird, to salvage as much friendship as you could. “I mean, whatever you’re doing, it’s working. You seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Armin laughed quietly out of his nose, not out of amusement or mockery, you thought, but relief. “R—Really? I don’t know what I did, it just felt right, bad timing and all,” he said.

“It’s fine. It felt right for me, too. You can do anything—” To me. You stopped. “Um, what I—what I mean is, think of it as an extension of our agreement. We can try anything you want. For educational purposes.” 

You mentally cursed yourself at your horrible attempt at saving yourself as heat rose to your cheeks. Everything you’d been saying sounded like a confession. 

From the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him dropping his head, face scrunched into a sheepish frown. “Are you sure? What I did wasn’t weird or anything, right?” 

This time, you finally faced him. “If I was uncomfortable that time, I wouldn’t have leaned in…I don’t mind at all.” 

He laughed again, but this time, it rang sweetly, bashfully. “Okay, um, then can we—can we try something?” he stuttered, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, the certainty leaving his voice as he spoke.

Your heart thumped in your chest as the air surged out of your lungs. You remembered last night, an exact replica of this moment. Dark, late at night, and alone with each other. And he again threw you such a hard request that had your stomach flipping.

Taking in a deep breath, you asked, “What do you want to try?”

He was looking at you now, and God, his eyes were so innocently bright, peering at you with so much eagerness that you wondered if he would always look like this when…

“Teach me how to kiss.” 

It came out in a needy whisper, voice fracturing, as if he said it all in one breath. The tension in your chest burst and blood rushed to your head like a storm. 

It was one thing to just be kissed—to let it flow in the feel of the moment—and another to be asked for it. 

The weight of his words laid on you now, expectant. He came to you for this, and who were you to refuse him?

“S—Sure. We can.” So you shifted closer to him, and you swore the air got heavier, harder to breathe. Your heart felt like it was wrenching itself out of your ribs, beating so hard that it filled your ears. 

His eyes bored into you still, unchanging, glossed over with a look of desire that looked so tempting. The blush on his face darkened when you placed a hand on his face, nearing closer and closer. He was soft under your touch, warm and ablaze as you lightly swiped your thumb across his cheek. 

“Try to match me, okay? We can stop any time.” 

With the final push, you pulled him in. 

Your lips slotted against his, slowly and methodically, like you were both trying to get the feel of things. His lips were soft, pliable, and you could feel their plumpness as you pressed into him, urging him on. He moved hesitantly and gently, slower than you, but somehow matching your pace perfectly and so fittingly. You began feeling lightheaded the wetter the kiss became because you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. 

You could sense his arm reaching around your body, stopping when his hand grabbed your outer thigh, and in one swoop, he pulled you into him, closing the remaining distance between your bodies. Now, your side was pressed up against his, heat radiating off of him, almost scorching you, reminding you of how close you two were—physically and emotionally.

And then you heard shuffling and the quietest, littlest click, like…like he was silencing his phone.

The kiss was still slow and steady, pushing and pulling, and you could tell he was gaining more confidence. Suddenly, he tilted his head further, pushing, which caused a hitch in your breath. His hand found its way to the back of your neck. He was taking the lead now. 

Your face was flushed with heat and your chest was heaving. Lost in the haze, you started lightly sucking on his lips. 

It was like this for a while. Sensual and solid and rhythmic as your lips moved in perfect tempo. He was good. A fast learner that took initiative. 

You didn’t like having to twist your head like this, so with a bated breath, you pulled away and stood up, hoping for the best. Confusion swam blue in his eyes as he watched you move, like a puppy. Cute.

Lifting your knees, you clumsily scrambled onto his lap, hands gripping onto his shoulders. You refrained from sitting too close because too fast, you thought, too fast for the current lesson and too fast for the anticipation already building in your stomach. 

But your plan quickly went out the window because you somehow, somehow, slipped a little too far, inches away from his crotch.

He inhaled sharply as his legs spread wider to support you and his hands instantly grabbed onto the base of your waist. The force of it pushed your shirt up a little, revealing the tiniest sliver of skin. 

This reminded you of when you fell into his lap, except this time, you were straddling both of his legs and facing him, and the feeling was nothing like the adrenaline from before. It was all-consuming with desire and just him him him.

“You’re shaking.” You squeezed his shoulders, but you swore you were shaking, too. “Breathe and relax. It’s just me.”

It was ironic; he was nervous now, when before at Connie’s apartment, he wasn’t.

Armin breathed out a shaky laugh, not daring to meet your eyes but rather on a spot on your neck. “I know. It’s you that makes me nervous.”

You couldn’t fight back the smile that crept up your lips, the beat of your heart, and the warmth that traveled up your cheeks. 

Looking at him, you noticed it now. The feverish tint of red on his cheekbones and the blown-out pupils, eyes lidded and so dark in this lighting that they almost looked gray. You wondered what you looked like to him right now.

His arms unexpectedly wrapped around your waist, tugging you all the way in until your chests and torsos were flushed against each other and your noses touched. He really did it now. 

“Will your roommate be home soon?” 

Oh, that was bold. That was bold because he looked up at you with those eyes and pleaded with that voice. You peeked at the time on your living room clock. Just a little past one in the morning. 

You weren’t getting any sleep soon, you realized. You remembered Eren—remembered how you declined him because it was late, but here you were.

When Armin didn’t receive an answer, he caught you off guard with a tiny peck to your lips. 

You gulped. 

“No.”

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