#armineren

He picks up his toothbrush, fiddles with the string tied to the end of it. It is the only thing distinguishing it from the other trainees’, some of them, Armin notices in disgust, still sitting on the side of the sinks. He tosses it into the bag, making his way to the door.

He steps outside into the cool night air, grateful to be rid of the pungent smell of the latrines. He presses himself close to the walls of the small building, eyes mapping his route back to the barracks, scanning the grounds for anyone who might see him; he technically shouldn’t be outside this late a night. He watches one guard strolling on his left, disappearing into one of the rows of buildings. Once the coast is clear, he scurries his way across the damp grass, a booming voice reciting night hours in the back of his head. He sighs in relief once he makes it to the other side.

He slips through the heavy door quietly, the smell of sweat slamming into him as he makes his way through the stuffy air of the dormitory. His ears are greeted by the sound of snoring and rustling bed sheets. He lifts an arm up, counting the bedposts as he makes his way down the long corridor, sliding his feet across the cold wooden floor. Despite the darkness, he makes his way back to his bunk easily, the image of the building already memorized, the path branded permanently into his mind.

Armin counts eighteen bedposts before stopping, then heaves himself onto the top left bunk, muscles screaming in pain. He flops onto the mattress, cringing as the wood frame creaks under the new weight. He turns to face Eren, sleeping on the other side of the bed.

It’s not the first time the two have slept beside each other. They had spent their nights in Wall Rose as homeless children, huddled together on dirty cushions, sometimes in dusty inns, a few times in dark alleyways, Mikasa’s scarf the only source of warmth and comfort for the three of them. But it’s the first night without Mikasa, and the bed seems strangely empty without her presence.

It’s also the first time he’s been able to be this close to Eren since training had started.

He stirs in his sleep, garbled words spilling from his mouth. Dim light from the windows outline the contours of his face, sweat gleaming on his forehead. A lump forms in Armin’s throat when he hears Eren groan in fear, the sound quiet and vunerable. Armin places a hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with heavy breaths. He shakes Eren gently, rousing him from distress of his dream.

Eren jolts, head whipping back and forth, one fist flying up to grip Armin’s wrist. It’s clammy and cold, the sweat on his palms sticky. Despite the twinge of pain as Eren’s fingers dig into his skin, Armin keeps shaking him, whispering his name quietly in an attempt to calm him down.

“Mikasa,” Eren says frantically, voice shaking with panic. “Where…?”

“She’s fine,” Armin assures him, his other hand moving to cover the fingers still clutching his wrist, loosening now. Armin can feel Eren’s muscles relax, breathing a sigh of relief as he takes in his surroundings, remembering where he is. “She’s fine, don’t worry, she’s just in the other barracks.”

“Shit,” Eren breathes, looking up to the ceiling. Armin memorizes the silhouette of his profile in the darkness. “Shit, I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize,” Armin whispers, “it’s just a bad night. You don’t need to be sorry.” He pulls Eren’s hand, turning him so that they face each other. He intertwines their fingers, his other arm wrapping around Eren’s shoulder, pulling the two of them closer together. He can feel Eren press their foreheads together, warm breath drifting over his mouth before Eren leans in.

Their lips fit together awkwardly, noses pressing against each other. They’re both stiff, unsure of what to do or how to respond, Eren moving back before they have a chance to fix it. There is a beat of silence, the air heavy, apprehension almost palpable in the small space between their lips.

“Armin,” Eren stutters out, breaking through the quiet. “I’m sorry, that was unexpected-”

Armin responds by closing the gap again, their lips barely touching in their gentle kiss. It’s an invitation for Eren to move closer, their arms enveloping each other in a tight embrace. He rubs circles on Eren’s back with his hand, the slight trembling in his spine easing with the comforting motion.

It’s the first night alone together, both adjusting to their new life in the military, Armin vowing to stay by Eren’s side until the very end.

“We’re safe,” Armin says soothingly. “We’re all safe. That’s all that matters.”

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