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amor por telepatía

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I can hear your thoughts like a melody

Apparently, his love language was to cater to Armin’s every wish. 

Since they were children, a young Eren found himself paying attention to each and every subtle change in his friend’s face or demeanor, the little blond has always been a little bit too insecure, too shy, so he wasn’t used to expressing his true colors out loud. 

But he could always trust Eren to hear him, even if he was silent, chewing on his lips more than once, unable to let the words find their way out of his red mouth. Arlert did what he could, showing his signs and expecting that someone would understand him even without the need of words. 

Eren would always meet him halfway. Working as perfectly as the finest piece of clockwork, they belonged together. 

So it’s been like this as long as they could remember, communicating without words and even though sometimes Mikasa threw some amused looks at their ways, there was nothing complex to their relationship, at least to them. It just felt natural, in tune. 

So the Yeager boy bragged, with a smugness that only a seven-year Eren could muster, every other day about how he knew Armin the most! What bugs he liked to catch, how his many freckles shone in the sunlight, what his favorite bedtime story was… the list went on and on. He could be kinda careless regarding school subjects, but he was a know-it-all when it came to his childhood friend. 

As both boys grew older, Eren’s perception of Armin's desires only got sharper. So it bothered him absurdly when he noticed the amount of fake smiles making their way on Armin’s oh so pretty face. 

Just as he got better at reading Arlert, said boy also tried hard to hide what he was feeling, he wasn’t an open book anymore. But of course, stubborn as he was, Eren wouldn’t let that slide. 

So on a seemingly random summer day, Eren invited Armin over to play videogames — or rather he would play videogames and Armin would read on his cellphone or idly hold Eren’s sweaty hand —, hoping he could discover what was going on inside that blond head and why he flinched everytime Eren asked what was wrong. 

“Shit!” he swore once more as he saw his game character die again because Jean was a hell of an asshole even online. 

He threw his joystick and headset aside and turned around only to see blond hair sprawled on his pillows, like it belonged there and maybe it did. Now they were both seventeen and Armin’s hair was long, long enough that it almost reached his thin waist, like a prince.

 Noticing the attention, his friend smiled but did not meet his eyes and Eren’s heart ached. 

“Hey, are you done playing?” he asked, shyly.

“I guess,” Eren murmured, trying to lie beside Armin in the limited space of his bed. He wished they were still children, so he could drop all of his marshmallows inside Armin’s hot chocolate, the blond would always look at him with the biggest smile ever like Eren was the king of the world. Instead of doing any of this, he asked: “What are you reading about?”

“It’s about a boy who travels the world and meets all kinds of people. Each place he goes to, he ends up receiving a piece of advice.”

"Hmm...” he murmured idly, using his right hand to braid the other’s locks. He tried to hug Armin, placing his nose on the other’s neck when Arlert flinched. 

Eren frowned, they used to do this every time, but for the last few weeks that was the reaction he received. It felt like he was losing his best friend somehow. 

In his mind, things were simple, maybe way too simple to Armin’s liking, who had a tendency to overthink everything they did. But Eren’s got no restraint, never had and if he wanted to hug Armin he did exactly that, if he wanted to hold his hand during break he did that too and if wanted to beat those veterans who liked to make fun of his long hair, then so be it. He never questioned his wishes when it came to Armin, there was no reason to, but it seemed that the other thought differently. 

But Eren was starving, needy in ways he didn’t think it was possible before. Missing the way how Armin’s bony fingers felt against his own. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t do these kinds of things anymore...” he explained, which was new considering he just simply rejected Eren’s touches in the last few weeks with no explanation whatsoever. “People are starting to notice.”

“I don’t care about what people think!” He said, maybe too aggressively. “And neither should you.” 

“I know but… I-I mean, look at Jean and Connie, they are best friends and they said it would be weird if they acted like us,” he finished, almost tempted to turn around and pretend this conversation never existed, but the sweat on the back of his neck was too real to forget. Today was a hot day and Eren’s body so close to his like this, made everything hotter and he gulped hoping his cheeks weren’t too red.

“But this isn’t about them, is it? It’s about us,” Eren said casually, trying not to scare his friend off with the way he touched his wrist, drawing him in delicately. “It’s about you.”

The sunlight bled through his transparent curtains, drowning them in its orange glow, making Armin’s face appear redder than it seemed but still enchanting to Eren nevertheless.  

“We’ve always been different from others, Armin. And you know this, right? There was no other way that the two of us could have turned out differently than what we are today, what we've always been since... ever” he trailed off, bringing his face closer and closer, but how could he not when he was finally looking into Armin’s eyes properly for the first time in weeks, like there was nothing bluer in this world. 

Shining for him and him only. 

The blond remained quiet, as he often was, but his hot breath caressed Eren’s lips tenderly.  

“Armin, if there’s something you’d like to tell me, but don’t know how to put into words, you don’t need to say it,” he whispered, like there was a precious intimacy right there on his small bed on a summer day, a secret that no one could take from them. “I’ll always meet you halfway, just show me.”

They kissed like it was predestined and maybe it was kinda silly, but Eren liked to think it was. Armin’s lips burned and healed at the same time, too much at once and when their tongues touched, they both sighed, melting into the moment like honey. 

Throwing any fear that was holding him back through the window, Armin pressed Eren’s body onto the mattress like he had done it a million times, with a familiarity that came from his dreams, always imagining how it would feel if this day ever happened, when maybe it already did, but he wasn't allowed to remember. Only with desperation as their guide. 

 And when Armin pulled his hair, he couldn’t help but moan into that sweet mouth. Knowing he was damned with the way those blue eyes seemed to contain the power of a ruthless ocean. 

Because he knew there was nothing in the world that he wouldn’t do for this boy sitting on his hips. 

Eren’s always been too desperate, too impatient, too much, burning and destroying everything in his way like an uncontrolled fire, often treated like a troublemaker by his parents or even by some college professors. But with Armin he was still all of that if not worse, except Eren never had to be shy about it, free to act needy, wishing he was wanted so bad it almost tasted like blood on his mouth, aiming to have a purpose. 

And his purpose was to serve Armin, breathing the perfume on his neck like that was the only oxygen he needed, drowning in his water which was soothing but also relentless.

He remembered the day they were both young and curious about their newfound relationship and Eren took Armin’s virginity, but it felt like the other way around with the way he was so desperate, lost in the new world he discovered when his hips met Armin’s, blending in each other’s core, becoming one. 

There was no doubt that Eren wouldn’t do anything for Armin, including giving himself willingly. His friends often said he resembled a puppy trailing after his best friend, but he was too in love to care, enamored with the way the blond explained the silliest of things, knowing that Eren was pretending to be too stupid to understand.

(Maybe the term fit him well after all.)

So Eren prayed with his lips on the other’s ear more than once, saying “please, please, please, let me”, even though he didn’t know exactly what he was asking for, but the need was so strong his eyes stung with unshed tears, loving Armin was so intense it ached. Panting and wanting nothing more than to offer himself on a silver platter for the blond to devour him however he wished. Slapped his face until it hurt, held his throat until he couldn’t breathe, he was his to use. Eren didn’t care as long as it was by Armin’s hands.

Just like the other, he didn’t know how to put these feelings into words and while Armin showed him through stares and control, Eren offered his body instead of broken and needy sentences. 

All things considered, people often found out kinda late that Eren could bend easily to every and each one of Armin’s whims. Oblivious to the way the brunette would get to his knees without thinking twice of how that would make him look, vulnerability be damned. Because when Armin pulled his hair and bit his lips he wanted to say ‘thank you’. 

Only finding freedom in being a slave, his liberty lying in every curve of Armin’s smile.