FRIENDS ➳ jean kirstein

030. TREACHEROUS

Armin — January 1, 2021
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Every sense of reason and logic inside of Armin was screaming for him to stop, to pull away, to turn around and leave. He wasn't sure if it was the dazing influence of the alcohol that was making him stay, or if it was actually the addictive feeling of Eren's warm skin beneath his hands, the intoxicating and fervent movements of Eren's lips against his own.

"We should stop," Armin panted into Eren's mouth, and yet he still impatiently rolled his hips forward, roughly rocking against the latter's knee, which was pressed not at all modestly between his legs. "We—we need to stop."

Armin's own body betrayed him. Despite his words of protest, that pit of hot yearning in his stomach was ever-expanding, and almost as though they had formed a mind of their own, his hands raked through Eren's hair. They tangled his hair into knots, curling it around his fingers and tugging eagerly to express the blinding bliss that was numbing every last one of his thoughts that didn't have anything to do with Eren, to do with the moment.

Armin's fingers found the hem of Eren's shirt and he pulled at it, sending the signal that he wanted the article of clothing gone. Eren leaned back, knee still maintaining its position between Armin's legs as he shouldered off his hoodie and yanked his shirt over his head.

Keeping his eyes trained on Eren's so not to become distracted and lose his composure over what he was sure was a very toned torso, Armin's hands reached for him again, desperately pulling him back in.

Armin was embarrassed by the small and involuntary gasp that escaped him when Eren's hands found the button of his jeans, but he was touched by how quickly Eren pulled his hand back when Armin seemingly expressed discomfort.

"No," he said at once, jutting his hips out, eagerly seeking Eren's hand again. "No, I want to."

A devilish grin split Eren's face, the kind of grin that made Armin's stomach twist and curl and his heart stutter in anxious anticipation inside his chest.

"Want to what?" he asked, taunting tone evident in his voice. Ignoring the way his breath caught in his own throat, Armin scowled at Eren and seized him by the waist.

"Don't fucking tease," he grunted, yanking Eren forward, jolt of light sudden pleasure going straight to his head as their hips ground against each other.

Seeming to have quickly earned a taste for said slight trace of pleasure, Eren continued to roll his hips forward, palm pressed flat against Armin, who tucked his face into the crook of the former's neck and gnawed at the burning flesh he found there.

Eren was unable to keep the pant out of his voice when he asked, "Was this what you wanted?"

Armin swallowed back a whine, relishing in the subtle one he elicited from Eren when his teeth briefly caught his earlobe.

As delightful of the feeling of Eren's hand pressing against him was, and as thrilling as the constant knocking of hips and groins against one another was too, Armin wanted more. He may have even gone so far as to say he needed it.

His lips and tongue continued to rove Eren's neck as he bit back soft moans.

"Suck me off," Armin mumbled, sounding much less demanding than he had anticipated. He certainly didn't miss the way Eren's breath hitched at his words, though, and Armin could not help but chuckle, lips curling against the dip of Eren's neck.

"A switch, huh?" Armin hummed, a taunting undertone to his voice. "Who would've known?"

Eren's movements suddenly grew sloppier, more aggressive. This was an effect of embarrassment, Armin knew.