Chapter Text
You wake up to the abrupt sound of water turning on behind the wall.
You open your groggy eyes and watch sleepily at the uninspiring white plaster. You stare for a solid minute before turning over to glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table.
It’s almost seven. Fifteen minutes before you need to get up.
You sigh deeply and sit up, looking around. In your small room, you can barely fit everything you need. A small desk on which your laptop is blinking lazily in sleep mode. A bookcase, mostly consisting of textbooks for school.
Your clothes are crammed into a single closet by the wall.
You want to move out, you think for the nth time this year.
You would, could you afford a larger room than this. As it is, you were lucky to find a room for such an affordable price this close to university.
You scratch your bedhead with a scatterbrained hum and move off the bed. Wearing only your pyjamas, you slip on a pair of slippers and walk to the door.
The small, crammed hallway is filled to the brim with weights and training equipment. You skip over a collection of dumbbells with an irritated sigh and walk to the living area.
The living room is small and cosy, with a worn out leather couch and a large TV mounted on the wall. The dining table seats four, though two of the chairs are filled with clothes, books and sports magazines.
You make it to the tiny but modern kitchen, ignore the filthy mixer, cup and sprinkles of what look like protein powder all over the counter.
Instead, you start making coffee with a yawn.
In the bathroom, you can hear the shower running for another dozen minutes. By the time the person comes out, you’ve already made breakfast and you’re sitting at the dining table eating, lazily browsing over your notes for the day.
You look up when you hear the door open and close.
You glance at your roommate. Tall and undeniably toned with a messy head of brown hair, there’s still water all over his towel-covered body.
You pause to look at the collection of small tattoos on his right arm, snaking down his forearm and up his neck, extending to cover one of his shoulder blades. The tattoos, most depicting stars, planets, constellations and other things the night sky is made of, are simplistic in design but form a coherent, sleek whole.
Eren Yeager. He’s lived here for six months longer than you and when his earlier roommate moved out, you happened to be looking for a room at the exact right time.
You visited the apartment and noticed that for the location and condition, it was reasonably priced, even if the room up for rent turned out to be a bit small.
Eren himself didn’t raise any red flags. He seemed a little aloof but not in a creepy way. More in a disengaged, “you-have-your-life-and-I-have-mine” way. Plus, the bedrooms have locks.
So, you felt comfortable moving in. Fast forward a year and here you are still.
Though, you must say your prolonged residence is not because of Eren’s charming personality but because of financial reasons.
He stops in the corridor halfway to his room and looks at you, clearly a little irritated.
You meet his gaze and wait. You can tell he has something on his mind.
“You left your make-up all over the bathroom counter again. It was annoying to try to find my shaver from underneath all those pouches.”
You roll your eyes.
“Okay. You left that,” you point at the dumbbells all over the corridor, “and that,” you point at the bodybuilding magazines on the chairs, “and that,” you point at the clothes hanging over the backrest, “and that-”
“Fine, I get it,” Eren cuts you off with a sullen roll of his eyes. Then, he stomps to his room and closes the door after himself.
You know Eren is supremely cranky in the mornings, but that doesn’t make you feel like being any more forgiving.
“Asshole,” you mutter after him. You finish your breakfast and wash your own dishes, making a point of not touching the mess Eren left behind when he made his post-workout protein shake.
You can only thank your luck he had the decency to buy a noiseless mixer after you complained a few times.
You walk to the bathroom and skip in the shower.
You get ready for the day, going over your schedule in your head, and as you step out of the apartment an hour later, you feel refreshed and quite alright despite the early awakening.
You walk the short distance to the campus, breathing in the refreshing spring morning, and when you spot the familiar trio standing in front of the building your first class takes place in, you wave.
Jean, Connie and Sasha all turn and give you a lazy wave. Sasha and Jean are in the middle of a heated argument.
“Main building’s A section!” Jean argues. ”They have wings today.”
”It’s always crowded and the lunch ladies watch over wing counts like hawks. Seven wings? Don’t make me laugh!” Sasha protests. ”C block is serving unlimited spaghetti carbonara.”
You know not to take a side. It’ll just end in a bloodshed. So you instead take out your notes and start lazily browsing through them.
”There’s a party tonight,” Connie tells you, mostly just to cover up the arguing. You look up from your notes, hardly interested.
”I see.”
”Williams is the host. That rich kid who lives in a mansion.”
You hum. You’ve heard of him. He’s loaded and apparently hosts legendary parties. Nonetheless, you’re not too interested.
You’re more occupied with surviving the rest of the semester and successfully taking your finals before the summer vacation.
”I have a paper to write tonight,” you tell Connie. ”Haven’t started the one for Smith’s course yet.”
”That one made me want to-”
”Anyway, class is starting,” you cut him off dryly.
Sasha and Jean bicker all the way to the lecture hall but you ignore them. You’re recapping all you have to do this week inside your mind.
The school year has been exceptionally tough and the finals are expected to be even more so. Luckily, after that you can take it easy for the summer. You have money saved up to pay rent so that you only need to work a month of your two-month vacation.
The day goes by uneventfully. You go to class, you eat wings with Sasha, Connie and Jean while Sasha tries to steal a second serving, you go to the library to get started on the essay until the sun starts setting, then you pick up your things and start making your way back.
When you arrive home, it’s already nearing evening. You walk in, give the collection of dumbbells, still scattered exactly where they were, a tired look but decide to ignore them.
Your head hurts. You’re tired. You have an essay to finish. You’re determined to make a quick dinner and retreat to your room to resume work.
From behind Eren’s door, you can hear the steady clicking of mouse paired with the typing of a keyboard. Eren must be playing his video games again.
You walk past the room, drop your bag in your neat bedroom and walk to the kitchen just to pause.
The sight is, quite plainly put, absolutely horrifying.
You have no idea what Eren was making, but he left everything out, starting from the potato peels. It looks like he did his best to use every cup and measuring bowl you own.
There’s stains all over the counters and sink. And of course, the remnants of his protein shake from the morning are exactly where you last saw them.
Maybe it’s because you’re already stressed or maybe it’s because this has been getting on your nerves for a long time now, but you find yourself at a tipping point.
”Eren!” you yell. You get no reply.
You stomp to his door and knock. No reply.
”Eren!” you call, this time louder. You hear nothing.
You’ve had it then. You walk to the router and turn it off. Ten seconds later, Eren’s door slams open and he peeks out.
His hair down and a little messy from wearing headphones. He glares at you where you’re standing in the corridor, already waiting for him and ready to attack.
”What did you do?” he asks, voice very accusatory.
”Turned off the router.”
”Why?”
”Because I tried to call for you many times and you wouldn’t budge.”
Eren releases an irritated sigh and combs his hand through his har. Then he steps out of his room to face you properly. He crosses his arms.
”What is it, then?”
”The kitchen.”
”What about the kitchen?”
You see red then. You grab his arm and rip him to the kitchen after you. You point at the mess.
”Look at this! This is a pigsty!” you exclaim. Eren gives the dishes a dull once-over.
”I’ll clean it later.”
”You’ll clean it now!”
”I’m busy.”
”I don’t care!” you yell. ”You always do this! You make everything into a mess and just shrug at it instead of cleaning it up. This is disgusting!”
”Why are you yelling?” Eren frowns. ”It’s dishes. Dishes get dirty.”
”You-!” You growl and fist your hands. You want to punch him. You want to punch him so bad.
”I hate it when you nag like this,” Eren says, infuriatingly calm despite clearly being annoyed. ”I don’t get you at all. Why are you so angry?”
”Why am I angry? Because you’re a messy piece of shit!”
”And you’re a nagging, uptight little busybody,” Eren shoots back, getting a little more agitated.
”I wouldn’t nag if you just tried to do at least something around here!”
”I do the dishes when you ask me to.”
”I shouldn’t ask you to! How did you manage to survive with your former roommate?”
”Neither of us was a fussy clean-freak, that’s how,” Eren replies. He’s leaning against the wall, clearly annoyed. ”Can I go now?”
“Clean. It. UP!”
“I said I’m busy. Do you need a Q-tip? There seems to be something in your ears.”
“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, finally completely losing your temper.
”I would, but you’ll just start complaining about the noise,” Eren shoots back. You groan and walk right past him.
”Fine. I don’t care anymore. I’ll be out late,” you tell him. You go to your room, grab your bag and walk right to the foor.
He looks after you as you walk out and slam the door shut after yourself. He sighs deeply.
”What’s with her?” he mutters to himself. He glances at the dishes and huffs.
-
“Hey, take it easy,” Jean tells you as you reach for your third drink. ”You don’t want to get too drunk.”
”That’s where you’re wrong,” you mutter. The lounge is busy around you. The music is loud and obnoxious, the people around you even more so.
You see people laughing, chatting, some are on the makeshift dance floor, grinding against each other.
”What happened, anyway? You’ve been in an exceptionally shitty mood,” Sasha says. She’s gulping down her second beer.
It’s not often you announce you’ll come to a party out of nowhere.
”It’s nothing,” you mutter. You don’t want to bother them with your drama. You doubt they’re interested in hearing you rant about a mountain of dishes back home.
You’re determined to let it loose and forget. Get merrily drunk for once.
Just as you finish your third drink, your eyes stray to the door. When you see a familiar, tall figure walk in, sullenly looking around, you groan.
You turn your back, hoping Eren doesn’t see you.
Of course, you should’ve known he’d show up, too. He’s not much for parties but his meathead of a best friend is and this party, from the looks of it, is the liveliest of the night.
You take a deep breath. It’s no big deal. You’ll just avoid him at all costs and stick to your friends like glue.
Eren only glances at you but decides to leave you be. Instead, he walks to a group of friends and starts chatting with them.
For that, you can be grateful. Then again, you’re not close. He has no reason to come talk to you in the first place.
As the hours tick away, you drink just a bit more than you should considering you have class tomorrow. You have fun with Sasha, Connie and Jean and you actually find yourself enjoying just kicking back for once.
You avoid Eren like the plague, a fact Jean and the rest don’t seem to notice. The night, surprisingly, goes without incident and is even moderately fun .
As you’ re finally ready to call it a night , it’s way past midnight.
Luckily, the mansion is within walking distance from home so you don’t need to spend money on a cab .
Just as you get to the hallway, you see a familiar, loose bun of brown hair. Drunk as you are, you still recognise it instantly.
”Oh. Isn’t that your roommate?” Connie says out loud. He’s very drunk and his speech slurs audibly. Out of you, Jean is the most sober.
Eren turns when he hears the words. His eyes land on you and he gives you an unreadable look.
”Oh. Hi,” you say stiffly. He nods a curt greeting. His friends are nowhere to be seen. He must be getting ready to leave by himself.
”You leaving?” Jean asks Eren. Eren simply nods.
”Good timing. Why don’t you walk home together?”
Immediately, you turn to give Jean a look.
“Him and me? Go home together?” you ask Jean, a little taken aback. “I can get home on my own.”
You fought only a few hours ago. Hell, the fight is the reason you’re now merrily drinking your worries away.
You glance at Eren, who looks characteristically sullen.
“It’s half past one. It’s dangerous,” Jean points out. “It’s easiest that way, but if you’re so opposed, I guess I can walk you too-”
“I got her,” Eren cuts in. He gives you a look. “Grab your stuff. Let’s go.”
You want to fight, but you’re tipsy and tired. Thus, you merely nod, wave Jean and the rest goodbye and walk out of the mansion.
Eren lights a cigarette and pauses to look at where you’re standing, trembling just a little in the night breeze.
“Where’s your jacket?”
“I didn’t think I’d stay this long so I didn’t take one,” you explain with a shrug.
He stares, for a moment. Then, he sighs and shrugs off his leather jacket. He throws it over your shoulders, leaving himself only in his T-shirt.
Then, he starts walking, cigarette in one hand and the other buried in the pocket of his jeans.
You’re a little taken aback by the sudden gesture. Regardless, you follow him. The jacket smells like smoke as well as the fresh citrus you know to be his shower gel and a hint of his lotus-scented shampoo.
It’s an oddly nice combination of scents.
The street lights are buzzing quietly as you walk down the empty sidewalk. Most people are either in bars, parties or already asleep.
You sway a little as you walk, watching Eren’s sullen back. He’s drunk, you can tell from the way he walks just a little more painstakingly than usual.
You curse Jean in your mind. You appreciate the concern, but you still haven’t come down from the fight you had with Eren.
You watch the back of his head, the few strands of hair that have escaped his loose bun of a hairdo. You look at his white T-shirt, his black jeans, the galaxy tattoo you can see slithering out of the collar of his shirt up one side of his neck. He’s tall, lean but very toned thanks to his love for morning exercise.
Was he not such a moody brat, he could even be attractive.
“Such a waste.”
“What?” Eren turns with a frown.
You only now realise you said that out loud. You clear your throat and shake your head.
“Just thinking about that food you left out overnight the other week and I had to throw it out. Such a waste of good food,” you quickly lie.
Eren stops. He gives you a long, irritated stare.
“What’s with you?” he then asks bluntly. “You always complain.”
He turns and starts striding off, this time so fast you have a hard time keeping up. You half-run after him, swaying a little as you do thanks to the booze.
“I wouldn’t complain so much if you were just a little bit more considerate,” you tell him, irked.
“I am considerate,” Eren grunts and picks up the pace even more, so much so you have to jog to keep up.
“Sure thing,” you snort. You stumble a little and almost lose your balance. You instinctively reach forward, grasping Eren’s shirt to keep yourself rooted.
He stops and turns again, frowning.
“What now?” he asks, though when he sees the way you sway a little, he pauses.
“How drunk are you?” he asks.
“I know what I’m doing. I’m slurring less than you are,” you reply dryly.
“I’m walking better than you are,” Eren counters. He sighs and pries your hand loose from his shirt. Then, he flicks his cigarette to a nearby ashtray that happens to be standing by the side of the road, grabs your wrist and starts tugging you along.
“Come on. Let’s go home,” he says. You stare at the back of his head and contemplate starting another fight, but ultimately let it go.
He guides you along the nightly streets. You can’t help but notice his hold is surprisingly gentle.
As you arrive at the apartment building, there’s no one in the front yard. Most of the windows of the five-storey building are dark.
You pull Eren’s jacket tighter over your shoulders and wrench your wrist out of his hold.
“Let me guess, the dishes are still there,” you say, again reminded of your fiery fight from earlier. Eren sighs.
“Why are you like this?” he finally snaps, annoyed. “It’s dishes. Why are you on my ass about it?”
“Because it’s not your apartment, it’s our apartment. You can’t just leave your shit lying around like you do. Furthermore, you always sulk and glare at me, you never smile, you’re so blunt and rude-”
“You’re not much better. You’re always nagging, you roll your eyes no matter what I say, you’re never happy with anything,” Eren argues back.
“I only nag because you’re so inconsiderate! You’ve been sulking since the beginning.”
“Sulking?“ Eren frowns. “I don’t sulk.”
“You’re sulking right now.”
“I’m not,” he denies.
“You are! Glaring, snorting, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched, you look like a first grader who got told not to run in the corridors-”
Eren walks up to you, frowning. He leans down, pushing his face closer to yours. He looks annoyed.
“Do you ever shut up?” he asks. You look up at him, his dull, green eyes and neatly shaved face.
A silence lingers between you.
“Sometimes,” you finally reply, not quite knowing what else to say. When he gets this close, it’s harder to think because you’re not used to it.
“How do I make you shut up for one minute?” he asks. You swallow and out of nowhere, all the irritation between you moulds into something different.
Suddenly, you feel a magnetism between you, one so strong it catches you entirely by surprise. You open and close your mouth, lost for words.
Eren stares into your eyes, seemingly completely unbothered by the closeness. He holds the eye contact shamelessly and waits.
“Huh,” he finally says. “You shut up.”
“You’re a dick,” you manage to breathe, though with no venom whatsoever. At that, Eren’s dull expression cracks into a small chuckle.
“Sure.”
“And you’re a slob.”
“Uh huh.”
“And an inconsiderate jerk.”
“Is my jacket warm enough?” he asks and raises a victorious eyebrow. Still leaned down, both of his hands pushed into his pockets.
“A single act of chivalry will not make up for all the mess you’ve created,” you say, though your voice is faint. Your breathing is a little off and you lick your lips nervously.
“There you go, nagging again,” he sighs.
“Then why don’t you shut me up?”
“How?”
“Get creative.”
Eren leans in then, so close your lips brush against his as you speak.
“You’re drunk,” you tell him with a throaty whisper.
“You’re drunk, too,” he points out.
“Shut up,” you say and loop your arms around his neck.
“That’s my line.”
Then, he kisses you in the light of the street lamp, hands pulling out of his pockets to grab your waist.
Your mind blanks and you forget. Forget this is Eren, your sullen roommate with whom you just had a heated fight not seven hours ago. Forget that doing this with a roommate is a horrible idea. Forget you have a tomorrow to deal with.
Instead, you taste his soft lips, the tobacco, the hints of that glass of Jack Daniels you saw him sip out of and a little bit of something sweet that reminds you of raspberry.
Your eyes close on their own, you feel incredibly warm and light as Eren tilts his head and presses fully against you.
When you pull back, you don’t stop to think. You grab his hand and haul him inside the building after you.
He follows with no complaints.
You make out in the elevator, you make out in the hallway leading to your apartment and it takes Eren a lot of effort to finally manage to fish out the keys and open the door.
When you’re inside, Eren shoves you up against the nearest wall. His forearms slam above your head as he cages you in place.
Your arms slip around his waist to pull him against you, your legs already parting where you’re standing and the moment he presses between them with his toned hips, you wrap one leg around his waist.
Hands moving up and under his shirt, trailing up the bumps of his spine, you allow him to loom over you, take your mouth and pin you down.
His back is toned and your hand appreciatively moves over his lean muscles.
He breaks the kiss, but only for a moment. He tosses his shirt off and slips the jacket off your shoulders.
He grabs your thighs. You let out a little shriek as he easily lifts you against the wall.
Your legs lock around his back as he kisses you again. Your hands slide over his shoulders and down his arms. His biceps are tight from supporting your whole weight but other than that, he doesn’t seem to be affected at all.
Both drunk, young and foolish, you kiss with no regard for tomorrow. His hands slide up your thighs and when he grabs your ass to help you roll against his half-erect cock, you moan.
You’re getting wet. Your head spins, but only a little. Not enough to explain why you’re suddenly doing this with Eren. You’re tipsy, but not so much so that you’re not on top of the situation.
Yet, when you finally pull back from the kiss, out of breath and lips swollen and glistening, you don’t tell him to stop.
“Bed,” you breathe instead.
Eren nods. He looks calm as always, yet his eyes are somehow different. Deeper and richer with hues of lust and longing, he kisses you once more, stealing the air right out of your lungs.
Then, he carries you to his dim room.
You’ve never been here. You don’t have the time to stop and look around before you’re placed on a soft bed, his weight following suit.
You’re pressed down and kissed again, his hands push under your shirt to roam over your belly.
Unsatisfied, you grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your shoulder, resuming the kiss the moment the garment is out of the way,
His hand slips behind you. With one hand, he unhooks your bra and pulls it off. You would ask how he learnt to do that but you’re too busy moaning as he moves his lips from yours to trek down your throat.
You toss your head back, eyes closed in bliss as he grabs your bare breasts into his large hands, mouth relentlessly working on your neck. Lips nibbling, teeth raking, only small grunts leave his lips as he methodically renders you completely null.
You feel the bulge in his pants, pressing against you as you nestle his hips between your legs.
You’re in no mood for unnecessary foreplays. You want him inside you.
“Get naked,” you order, already reaching for the button of your shorts.
He beats you to it. With nimble fingers, he undoes your pants and pulls them down along with your stockings and panties.
Taking them off with your shoes, he sits up and throws the clothes into a pile on the floor. You glance down, just to see that Eren has an impressive collection of his own, half-worn clothes down there, but before you can point it out, Eren’s hand closes over your pussy.
He rubs, and you immediately gasp. You’re wet for him, embarrassingly so considering this is your roommate you’re speaking of, but you don’t let that hinder you.
Instead, you roll against his hand, eyes fluttering shut. You want to tell him to get his clothes off and fuck you already, but forming coherent sentences is getting harder and harder by the moment as his fingers rub your clit with a circular motion.
“Fuck,” you breathe, panting and writhing just a little. Eren looks at your face keenly, calmly robbing you of any and all sanity.
He’s way better than you thought he’d be. He knows exactly when to speed up, when to slow down, he knows the telltale signs that you’re overstimulated and lightens up, but he also knows when to apply more pressure.
“Oh my God,” you wail, “I’m close.”
Eren says nothing. Instead, he speeds up just a tad, rubbing your pussy until you’re trembling head to toe.
When you come, you throw your head back with a cry, your legs shake a little and you roll your hips against him blindly.
More. More. More.
You don’t see it, but Eren’s cock stiffens in his pants, straining against the fabric of his jeans as he watches you writhe and moan on the bed, legs carelessly pulled apart for his hand.
When you finally come down from your orgasm, he pulls his hand away. He looks at the way your slick glistens on his fingers.
He ignores that. Instead, he pulls his jeans and boxers off, kicking them to the floor with his shoes.
You look down at his cock. It’s larger than you thought. You reach a hand and when you touch it, Eren lets out a groan.
You start rubbing it, base to tip. Meanwhile, Eren reaches for his bedside table. Taking out a condom, he unwraps it and rolls it over his cock.
“You sure?” he then pauses to ask. You look up at where he is, standing on his knees next to you on the bed.
“Yes.”
“How drunk are you?”
“About as drunk as you are,” you reply. “I know what I’m doing. I swear to God, if you leave me hanging now like an inconsiderate jerk I’ll-”
Eren shuts you up by mounting you. His hips press between your legs, his dick rubs up and down your slit as he presses his forearms on each side of your head.
“Shut up,” he breathes. “Don’t start your yapping now.”
You fall quiet and look up at him in quiet wonder. Wonder of how you can find yourself so attracted to Eren of all people.
You reach a hand. You trail it up, along the tattoos covering his arm. You follow the patterns to his back and then finally up to his neck to where they stop, just below his ear.
You yank him in by his neck and kiss him. He moans and, unable to put it off any longer, lines up and thrusts inside you.
It’s a bit of a stretch thanks to his size, but not too much so. You gasp against his lips, the sound drowning against his needy mouth.
He starts moving, hips snapping forward, and the tightness makes him groan.
He keeps you right there, caged and safe between his forearms, underneath his body. Your legs are looped around his waist, your arms hold onto his broad shoulders as he fucks you. Slow at first, he soon picks up the pace.
Thrusting inside you, he angles his hips just right, causing pleasant spasms that jolt up your spine with every stroke.
“Eren,” you call for him, a little shaky. It seems to turn him on, because he moans and starts moving faster.
Your head spins. Not from the booze but from Eren. The taste of tobacco, whiskey and raspberry, the smell of smoke, citrus and lotus, the sound of his grunts as he fucks you down into the mattress.
The feel of his body pinning yours down, toned biceps tense as he balances his whole weight on his forearms, hips easily thrusting with incredible speed and force.
“Eren,” you cry again. He breaks the kiss just to bury his face into your neck, nose bumping against your pulse point as he takes in your scent.
He fucks you, with such vigour and passion that did you not know better, you’d almost think he’s dreamt of doing this for a long time.
“I’m close again,” you whisper. Your hips are rolling into his, meeting him halfway to make it as easy as possible to thrust deep inside your body.
He grunts in acknowledgment and moves to stand up on his knees. He looks down at you, taking in the way you’re spread and breathless.
He grabs your hip with one hand, demandingly pulling you to meet his relentless thrusts even harder. His other hand moves to your clit again.
You stare up at him, mouth ajar, eyes barely open. His tense abs, his toned hips thrusting with no rest. His cock, burying inside you with full ownership. His toned arms, holding you down beneath him like you always belonged there.
His hair is a little messy, strands of hair falling over his face and neck where they’ve escaped the bun. Eyes dark and smouldering as he rubs your clit, he’s determined to make you lose it for him again.
It’s easily the most erotic sight you’ve ever witnessed. This man, sullen and moody and rude, is somehow the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your life.
With that thought, you come for him. Eyes closing on their own, you throw your head back on the bed.
He grits his teeth as you tighten around him. He keeps looking at your face, eyes burning and full of lust as he continues ramming in relentlessly.
He fucks you, way past your orgasm and when you stop spasming around him and instead turn limber and content, he moves to grab your hips with both hands.
He keeps your hips down and still for him as he thrusts into your now relaxed body. All the while, you watch him in quiet bliss, mind filled with nothing but the thought that he’s beautiful and perfect.
He rams in once more, as deep as he can, and comes, releasing a deep moan. He stills and you feel his cock jolt inside you a few times.
He stares at you, eyes slowly turning from lustful to unreadable again. You remain lying where you are, sprawled out before him.
He pulls out and gets up from the bed just enough to throw the condom in the bin under his desk. He grabs a couple of napkins from his bedside table and hands you one.
You both clean yourselves the best you can. Eren takes the napkin from you without a word and throws both of them in the bin with the condom before he gets back on the bed.
The bed is queen-sized, big enough to accommodate both of you.
You remain where you are, but when Eren slips under the covers, you follow suit.
You should maybe start questioning what just happened, but you can’t be bothered to right now. Instead, you turn over to your side and lean your head on your hand.
Eren does the same. For a moment, you just stare at each other.
You reach a hand and thoughtfully trail your fingers along the tattoo again. Your eyes following the path of your hand, you hum.
Eren lets you do as you wish. He looks relaxed on the bed, though his eyes have once again turned hard and difficult to read.
“Do you like stars?” you finally ask.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
You shrug. Then, you pull your hand back and move to lie down properly. You scoot closer to Eren and press your forehead against the dip between his collar bones.
He looks down at you. Then, he pets your hair once, leaving his hand there to rest against the back of your head.
You close your eyes. You can’t be bothered to think any further.
“Can I sleep here?”
“If you want.”
“Tomorrow morning will probably be awkward.”
“Only if we want it to be.”
You chuckle at his nonchalant words. Then, you take a deep breath and drift off, missing the way Eren minutes later lays down as well. Arm moving to wrap around your waist to protectively pull you in, his nose buries into your hair.
He closes his eyes and allows sleep to take him.