Chapter Text
Three heavy knocks rained down on the heavy door that held back the muffled sounds of a party.
After a second of no answer, Eren’s fists continued to bang on the sturdy wood until the door flew open. Connie’s annoyed face met Eren’s from the other side of the door.
“What the fuck? You’re banging on the door like you’re the fucking cops.” Connie scoffed as Eren pushed his way inside.
“Where’s Armin?” Eren wasted no time, his eyes rapidly scanning the scene of the party.
“Yeagerbomb!!” Sasha greeted with a laugh as she ran up to Eren. He accepted her small, one armed hug before getting back to his task at hand.
“Sasha, is Armin here?” Eren rephrased his question as Sasha pulled back, taking a long gulp from her cup.
“Yeah, he’s here.” Connie answered instead, shutting the door.
“He pulled Jean away from us a while ago before the party started. It seems like Armin has a habit of pulling our friends away from us.” Sasha remarked.
“Yeah, maybe he’ll pull me away too. If he’s making his rounds that means I’m next.” Connie smiled at his own crude joke, warranting a shove in his shoulder from Sasha.
“Shut up.” Eren palm shoved into Connie’s other shoulder, hard enough to pull out a small wince. “Where is Armin?” Eren's voice became serious, a sense of urgency beginning to grow.
“I don’t fucking know. Jean’s dick could be halfway down his throat right now for all I know!” Connie scoffed as he held the possibly bruised shoulder.
Anger began to form Eren’s hand into a tight fist. Just the simple thought of Connie’s comment made Eren’s breath hitch.
“They were in the kitchen the last time I saw them.” Sasha answered Eren’s question promptly to tame the forming conflict. “That was only like 20 minutes ago, they might still be there.”
Eren let out a huff of air, his eyes still glaring at Connie as he attempted to calm himself. His feet stomped away before a scene could unfold, making his way to the kitchen.
Unwanted images of Jean and Armin filled Eren’s head as he pushed through the crowd. His body got hot with anger, jealousy, as he only pictured what they could be doing. How Jean could be touching him—looking at him. But the worst part was how Armin could be touching Jean back, how his eyes could be looking into Jean’s the same way Armin looks into his own.
Revenge was never Armin’s way of living life—he’s always been kind like that. Armin was a turn the other cheek, talk things out kind of person. Eren can’t deny that he’s been blessed with that treatment for years, before any of this even began. But everyone has a breaking point, and Eren knew he had pushed Armin to his—he’s always been a dick like that.
Eren picked up an unopened can as he spotted Armin. He sat up on the counter, the island in the middle of the kitchen, his blond hair sprawled out on his shoulder since his head was just a little tilted.
Eren strolled closer, the pulse of his blood felt like it began to slow as his sight on Armin became more clear—along with the sight of who he was with. Piercing, light brown eyes stared into Eren’s. They mocked him, they told him that everything he was worried about was true, and that there was nothing he could do about it.
A heavy feeling sunk from Eren’s heart down to an empty pit in his stomach. As still as his body stood, it felt as if the ground from underneath him opened. He plummeted into the hole as he watched Jean’s body press between Armin’s legs, as Armin’s cheeks grew with smiles. Eren hit the ground when Armin turned to look at him, his eyes showed nothing but disinterest and his head tossed back around to look at Jean.
“Hey, you look like you’re gonna kill somebody.” A well too familiar voice rang, stopping Eren’s foot from stepping closer.
Eren turned his head to meet eyes with his sister. “Why are you here?” Eren muttered towards Mikasa, his eyes not being able to leave the source of pain that was tightening his chest.
“Armin told me he’d be here…And what he’d be doing. So I knew you’d be here.” Mikasa answered as she stepped between Eren and his view into the kitchen.
“I don’t need a babysitter.” Eren spat as his head dropped down, his finger circling the metallic top of the can before cracking it open.
“Yeah? Then why are you here?” Mikasa watched Eren avoid her question by taking a sip from the drink. “It’s to babysit Armin, right? If you get to babysit him then I’m babysitting you.”
Eren parted the drink away from his lips. “I’m not babysitting… I just—fuck I thought he was just messing with me.” A chuckle sighed out before Eren picked his head back up, anger starting to resurface.
“Can you believe that shit?“ Eren’s occupied hand raised up to point at Armin and Jean who were leaving the kitchen. “I know I pissed him off, but out of everyone in this fucking school he chooses Jean? That’s fucked up, right?”
“How can you actually be shocked by this?” Mikasa scoffed, her question made Eren whip his face around, putting on a face of confusion on why Mikasa wasn’t on his side.
“Of course he’s trying to get back at you. Eren, you didn’t just piss him off, you drove him away. You’ve been treating Armin like… like he’s not Armin. I get that you have horrible communication issues and you’re going through this gross fuck boy phase, but that doesn’t mean you have to drag Armin into it.” Eren's head turned away from his sister’s lecturing.
Mikasa’s voice became stern as she turned Eren’s head to make sure she had his attention. “He’s not one of those people you can pick up, screw around with, then toss away. He’s been there for you—for us—for 12 years. Your best friend since you were 9 and what, all of a sudden you just don’t care about him?”
“Don’t fucking say that Mika.” Eren brushed Mikasa’s hand away. “I care about Armin more than I care about anything else in this world besides you. Don’t ever say I don’t care about Armin because that’s just a lie.” Eren took a sip from his drink as he looked back at the spot where Armin had sat mere minutes ago. The spot now replaced by lined up shot glasses.
“Well you’re saying that to the wrong person… I know you still care about Armin but he thinks you don’t.” Eren’s attention tuned back into the conversation. “Why are you doing this to him?”
His expression softened as he processed Mikasa’s words, as he processed the thought of Armin thinking he doesn’t care about him anymore. Eren’s face fell into his rough palm with a heavy sigh, his hand dragging down his cheek.
“No, I do care about Armin… But I just… I don’t know, when we started having sex I didn’t know how to like… Fuck—I don’t know Mika, okay I don’t know.” Eren’s frustration grew as he couldn’t even form a complete sentence—a complete understanding of his own on why he had been treating Armin differently.
“It’s because you’re always up here.” Mikasa tapped harshly on Eren’s forehead between his eyes. “You think and react to everything in such extreme ways. You’re always trying to calculate everything until you lose the actual point. That’s why you’re here at this party stalking Armin when you could have sat down and talked to him when you had the chance.”
Mikasa’s finger left Eren’s forehead with a small push before pressing into Eren’s chest. “Armin resides here. Sure he’s smart but he makes every decision with his heart. He goes along with whatever you want because he trusts you: the worst influence in the world. And now he’s off with Jean because his heart got tired of having to read in between your lines.”
Eren’s body fell silently into the couch beside him, leaving Mikasa to stand over him as her hand gently pet at his hair. “It’s a lot to process. And it’s the reason why you two should listen when I tell you something is a bad idea.”
Eren reached up to brush Mikasa’s hand away, his silence remaining as his face fell into his hand. With a light sigh and heavy clicks from her shoes, Mikasa walked away.
The torn up couch cushions enveloped Eren’s body and the cold alcoholic beverage flowed down his throat as his mind became lost in thoughts and memories of Armin.
That 12 years ago when they met, Eren fought off a group of older kids picking on Armin, beating them up in the name of a child-like idea of justice.
For those 12 years Eren hasn’t let Armin leave his sight. He’s deemed himself Armin’s protector, the person who Armin could find security and safety.
After 12 years, he had failed. Eren had lost sight of Armin because of his own inability to recognize the simplest of feelings and his incompetence of expressing them.
Eren picked himself up from the couch. His feet wandered aimlessly around the house, downing drinks and scooping up the next one. Can, bottle, or small a red solo cup, each drink was gone as soon as it was grabbed.
His feelings… What are his feelings? Eren wracked his intoxicated brain as he slumped against a wall in a room he was unsure of. Care. Attraction. Lust. Love.
Love isn’t anything new in Eren and Armin’s relationship. They’ve said it to each other before. It shouldn’t be different, love should feel the same no matter if there’s sex or not. But as Eren looked ahead into his hands, illuminated by the flashing neon led lights, his love didn’t feel different—it was evolved.
Eren stumbled around blurry lights and moving people. A love that still had the same meanings and feelings as before, but with more passion and involvement. Armin needed to know, he needed to hear of Eren’s epiphany so everything could be fixed.
A heavy hand pushed down on Connie’s shoulder, followed by lighter taps to get his attention.
“What?! What’s up with you?” Connie turned around, his face turned up in irritation.
“Where’s Armin?” Eren slurred his words, using Connie to steady his balance.
“Hey, we tried to talk to him for you. But, he wasn’t really trying to listen.” Sasha answered, her face matching the same expression of concern as Connie’s.
“No, I need to talk to him. Armin is mad at me, and he’s running away from me but I love him. I gotta go tell him I love him because I want him to come back home with me.” Eren’s words rambled as he did his best to explain his newfound conclusion.
Connie placed his hand on top of Eren’s, giving a couple small taps. “I think you should wait til tomorrow to talk to him. You’re fucked up right now.”
Eren scoffed as he snatched his hand away from Connie, losing his point of balance and stumbling to stand straight. “You’re not listening to me. I said I need to talk to Armin now, right now Connie. Where is he? Sasha, where is he?”
Sasha’s eyes shifted over to Connie with a questioning look. Connie’s head shook with a “no” of disapproval, but the look in Sasha’s eyes showed that she was going to answer anyway.
“He went up to Jean’s room…” Before Sasha could continue her sentence, Eren took off with the information he needed.
“W-Wait! But they’ve been up there for like 20 minutes, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go in there!” Sasha called out to Eren as he rushed towards the stairs.
Eren’s hands pushed and shoved at the people in the way of his route to Jean’s room. Blood rushed through Eren’s body as he stormed up the stairs. Emotions heightened by the liquor that pumped through his system spiked.
A tight hand reached out for the doorknob to Jean’s room. “Eren, don’t go in there!”
Mikasa’s voice called out from the top of the stairs. “I’ll text Armin and tell him to talk to you in the morning, let me take you back home.”
Yet Mikasa’s words of advice fell upon deaf ears as Eren’s hands twisted the knob.
Locked.
Eren twisted again, his aggressive attempts to open the locked door making a jangling sound from the metal knob.
“It’s locked, Eren.” Mikasa sighed as she approached Eren, his hand still twisting and shaking at the doorknob. “You need to lay down-”
Mikasa’s words were cut off by the loud bang that came from Eren’s shoulder being rammed into the door.
Another bang. Two more until the wooden paneling cracked and let the door swing open.
Blue eyes large with startlement stared ahead at Eren, until his forehead wrinkled and his eye brown knit with disdain.
“Eren?”
“Armin.”
Their voices called the other simultaneously. Eren stared ahead as his eyes began to piece together the scene in front of him. Armin laid naked under the dark green bedspread, his hair as messy and uncouth as the sheets beneath him. Jean’s head rested obnoxiously comfortable on Armin’s chest, still in a deep sleep despite Eren’s noise.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Armin berated. His cheeks were a hot red as his body sat up, leaving Jean’s head to drop onto the mattress. “Get out of here.”
“No, I love you.” Eren began to approach the bed. “I love you and I want us to go home.”
Armin’s body paused as he blinked at Eren. “No, you have to go. Get out.” Armin took hold of the bed cover, pulling up to cover himself as Eren got closer.
“Please…Please, I’m sorry. I love you, Armin.” Eren’s eyes diverted from Armin and to Jean’s sleeping body. “And I fucking hate him. I’ll kill him right now to take you back home because I love you.”
Armin’s body scooted over to hide Jean from Eren’s point of view. He looked into Eren’s watery eyes, his mouth turning into a frown. “Leave.”
“…What?” Eren felt a churn in his stomach as Mikasa’s hand began to pull him away. “You…You can’t pick him over me. You—I love you. Armin, please. I love you.”
Eren felt the hot tears that began to stream down his cheeks as he was pulled farther and farther away from Armin, his last sight of him being the pure expression of disgust that painted his face.
Mikasa’s shoulder soaked up Eren’s drunken sobs as she took him into a deep embrace. His hands held the small of his sister’s back, accepting the comforting source of touch while everything poured out through his eyes.
“Does he hate me now?” Eren spoke between small sniffles.
A silence lingered from Eren's question. Her unwillingness to answer stabbed a painful hole into Eren’s chest that absorbed every ounce of hurt that stabbed at his body.
The air felt different as Eren left the house with Mikasa. An emptiness consumed each step Eren took without Armin beside him. At the hands of himself, Eren had destroyed his own world. One of the only two sensible relationships he had in his life had been ruined and he had nobody to point the finger at but himself.