Work Text:
#1 - Show up to his basketball games. (On time)
The parking lot on game nights at Eren's school (University of Sina East, Stohess - Go Titans!) is always somewhat of a degenerate zoo, but it is exceptionally ridiculous tonight, seeing as it's the first home game of the fall semester. Erwin wouldn't have equated that to much importance on his own, but he only knows this because of Eren. Because Eren can be somewhat aggressive when he insists on any particular thing -- but if there's anything he works hard for, it's this.
It's the reason Erwin is stuck at a hurried half-sprinted skip to cross the width of the lot, pushing through clusters of beer guzzling youth, because he'd made Eren a very firm promise to attend. He's late already, by over an hour, he notices on the screen of his phone as he switches it off -- which given the usual length of Eren's games doesn't seem like a whole lot, but to Eren it's important, gravely so. It's why Erwin isn't bothering to care that he's still wearing his bespoke charcoal suit as he weaves his way through literally hundreds of carelessly held drinks. It's a risk he has to take.
Once inside the arena, he makes his way up the bleachers towards the very back row, and he locks gazes for nearly a full second with Eren's sister, Mikasa, who's eyes flit disdainfully back to the game once she's seemingly conveyed her silent message of threat. Erwin brushes the tingling discomfort off, scoots his way towards the far left corner seats. He'd started sitting in the back because it felt more private, like he could watch Eren and not worry about anyone catching the kind of warm, supportive faces he might end up making. It's turned into habit, over time, and now it's always the first place Eren looks for him.
Eren is there now, right below the gigantic 'N' on the large banner overhead that displays the team name 'STOHESS TITANS'. Erwin catches the glisten of sweat on Eren's bicep through a pass, and then he seems to stop, looking first in the wrong direction, so all Erwin sees is 'Jaeger, 30'. Eren's head whips quickly - frantic, almost, jesus, Erwin's gut sinks in guilt - and when he finally spots him up at the back there's such a painfully visible shift in his demeanor it makes Erwin ache that he can't touch him. Eren's neck extends, his eyes widen and then quickly narrow. Erwin catches the vague and silently mouthed "fucker" and he smirks in response, waving with a discrete wiggle of his fingers.
There's about another hour of gameplay and then Erwin's waiting out by the open door of his all white Model S, the all leather interior like a black hole out in the back of the parking lot where there isn't as much light. Erwin struggles his way through a few hastily worded texts after turning his phone back on, ignoring the ridiculous number of notifications -- emails and voicemails. He spins the phone in his palm anxiously one or two times, and then perks up at the first sharpened shout of, "Hey."
"Hey yourself," Erwin says, his slow spreading smile more than likely conveying the warm relief that fills his chest at the sight of Eren, in all his unsurprisingly pissed off glory. He cups the side of Eren's face as he approaches, wraps his ring and pinky finger around his slim (and somewhat sticky) neck.
Erwin smooths a stray spike of sweaty hair away from Eren's temple with his thumb. "Jesus, you're soaking wet."
"Where the fuck were you?" Eren scowls up at him. He shoves a hand into the center of Erwin's chest, and then lets it linger there. It's a caress more than a push, and Erwin is grateful for that much, at least.
"Meeting ran late," Erwin explains, and then he takes a habitual precautionary glance around the campus before leaning down and taking Eren's mouth in a searing kiss.
Eren growls into it, lips twisting into something like a snarl as he licks against the heat of Erwin's tongue. The loose nature of his jersey means Erwin can slip his palms up underneath it, grip the bare skin of his bony hips. Eren instinctively arches into him, and he's fighting so hard not to smile when Erwin pulls away.
"You're a dick," Eren mumbles fondly.
"Can't help it, sweetheart, duty calls." Erwin kisses the corner of Eren's right eye, tastes the salt of his sweat, and then groans as his phone buzzes wildly in his pocket. That wasn't meant to be a double ended excuse, but it looks like it's going to have to be.
Eren frowns so deeply when Erwin pulls out his phone that it gives him forehead wrinkles. Erwin tuts at him, smooths over his eyebrows with his thumb.
"You'll give yourself a goddamn headache, stop."
Eren shoves at his wrist, pushes him away. "You're leaving, aren't you?"
"I have to. I'm sorry, you did great, alright?" Erwin grabs him by the chin, leans down to kiss him again. His heart pounds when the soft swell of Eren's lower lip seems to stick between his own when they part, a stab of longing zipping through his stomach. He doesn't voice this, not out loud. Keep it short and sweet, it's simpler that way.
"Eren?"
The awkwardly tall kid that Eren couldn't stop complaining about having to work with on his group project last semester calls out to him timidly. He's approaching slow enough that Eren's jump backwards was more than likely hidden by the open door of Erwin's car. Still, Eren's cheeks burn an incriminating shade of red.
"What Bertl?"
"Um, we're all carpooling to the restaurant..." the tall boy seems to slow, forgetting himself, as he warily looks between Erwin and Eren. It's like he's waiting for Eren to explode, which -- given the fact they are now on a team together -- is probably a justifiable concern.
"Fine, be there in a sec."
Eren whips back towards Erwin as Bertl moves far enough away that they wont be heard. He leans up on the balls of his feet, grabs the lapels of Erwin's jacket.
"Tomorrow," Eren growls into his mouth after another wet, harried kiss. It's a promise as much as it is a threat, in Eren's usual fashion.
Erwin runs a tired hand through his hair as he gets back into his car and swipes through the extraordinarily long list of missed calls and emails. He'd skipped one of the first of potentially many progressive board meetings to make an appearance here tonight, but he takes a deep breath -- in, two, three, four, out, two, three, four -- and tells himself it was worth it.
#2 - Do not, under any circumstances, criticize his ridiculously self-denying study habits.
Eren has many little ticks, Erwin has come to learn over time. He bites his lips when he's anxious, sometimes so much they end up torn and bloody. He grinds his teeth when he sleeps, he bites his nails, he rubs his eyes until they're sore and red when he's tired. When he gets exceptionally stressed, he will occasionally skip out on hours of sleep. In essence, he is not very good at looking after himself.
"Take a break," Erwin mumbles, sliding warm fingers through Eren's hair, scratching his scalp with blunt fingernails. He's sitting at Erwin's coffee table, hunched like a broken tree over his laptop, his eyes almost manic in the dim artificial light.
"Fuck off," Eren grumbles in response, though he leans into Erwin's touch, shivering a little.
"Hey," Erwin commands, tugging on Eren's hair to get him to tilt his head backwards to look up at him. Erwin is seated behind him on the couch, which means Eren is, as such, between his legs. He brackets Eren's skull with his knees, cups his jaw in his palm. "I appreciate your fierce determination for your academics, but watch your fucking mouth."
Eren grins at him, and even upside down Erwin can tell it's withered. He looks miserably tired.
Eren's smile droops slightly as he seems to realize smething. "I know this is your only night off--"
"That has nothing to do with this, you're fading away. When's the last time you ate something?"
Eren grunts, shrugging slightly as he lets his head fall back towards his laptop. Erwin jumps a little, and then huffs in relief when Eren manages to avoid smacking his forehead into the table, miraculously.
The thing with Eren is he's smart, but he's not good at placing his intelligence. He hones in on things he deems important and disregards the rest. Basketball, competition, tearing down the opposition, all of it gets him riled to the point of glowing. Political science, however, turns him into a goddamn basket case.
Erwin leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, peering over Eren's shoulder. There are an array of practice questions, blank spaces for answers, some multiple choice. Eren shoves a fist into his own hair, starts to pull on it, and Erwin stops him, squeezing Eren's hand in his.
"Incumbent," Erwin murmurs, quiet now that he's closer to Eren's ear.
"What?"
"The term for a person of power running for reelection."
Eren sighs heavily through his nose, hastily types in the blank space 'incomebint'.
"You're too tired to retain any of this," Erwin says, and he lifts Eren's hand to his mouth, drags his lips across his knuckles. "Sleep, please."
Eren gives in eventually, after an almost painful looking yawn and a few popped bones in his spine when he stands. It's one of the more rare nights he can sleep over here, but Erwin isn't willing to push him for sex, not when he's half dead to the world as it is.
Instead he lets Eren use his chest as a pillow once they're in bed, traces soft patterns into Eren's back with his index finger while he presses lazy kisses to his forehead. Eventually Eren's breathing slows, his limbs get heavy, and his lips part on a quiet snore.
He knows why Eren is stressed, none of that is surprising in the least. It's normal, yes, but he has an athletic scholarship to try and maintain, as well his spot on the team. Nevermind the shit he has to deal with at home, or his innate sense of self importance. None of it is bad, it's just unfortunate and difficult to deal with. Erwin resolves to drag out his old paper, see if it's anything he can help with -- at the very least, Erwin understood politics, even if he wasn't much of a fan in practice.
#3 - If his mother recognizes you out in public, play it cool.
Erwin strolls with prioritized importance into his local health food store, the scent of earthy root vegetables and nut oils invading his nostrils the minute he walks through the sliding doors. He'd promised to cook Eren dinner this time, and decided on something nice yet still familiar. A beetroot and goats cheese salad for starters, and then chicken l'orange with brown rice for the main course. Simple, tasty enough. Eren isn't a picky eater, which is a relief, although Erwin doesn't really have the capacity to care if it's to his exact taste or not. Eren would probably be fine with pizza (again) but Erwin's body doesn't bounce back as well as it used to in its prime.
There is a list. Organic chicken breast, goats cheese, arugula. Maybe some hard parmesan to grate, because Eren is somewhat obsessive when it comes to the application of cheese. He would probably put cheese on his goddamn breakfast cereal, if he didn't think it would gross Erwin out in the mornings.
Erwin rounds the corner from produce towards the butcher's counter, his basket already half full, when he practically body slams a small woman with long, dark brown hair. Her eyes look so familiar, Erwin thinks, as he comes to the slow realization that this is, in fact, Eren's mother.
"Oh, Mr. Smith!" She gasps, looking genuinely shocked. Running into him must be the equivalent to running into a brick wall, he supposes.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs...?" he plays the ‘innocently unaware’ card like a champ.
"Oh, call me Carla. My son is Eren Jaeger, he's on the Stohess Titans. I've seen you at the games sometimes, it's so good of your company to be a sponsor, really. It's nice to see big corporations investing in the community."
"Well," Erwin thinks, plastering his very best most gracious smile onto his face, "It's the least I can do, my boss is alumni, so."
"The boys appreciate your support, either way," Carla says with a gentle bow of her head, while Erwin thinks fuck, if you knew all of what your son appreciated--
"My pleasure," Erwin says, forcing his twisted mouth into another friendly grin.
She leaves him to wallow in his own disgust, and Erwin has to pause by the pasta aisle, leans his forehead against a stack of gluten free macaroni as he curses silently to the world.
So, she's seen him at the games. That much is expected, but there's a crippling guilt that comes with lying about his motives -- guilt at glossing over the true reason for his game attendance (to support Eren, fuck the rest of the team) as well as guilt towards conveniently leaving out the fact that yes, you know me, I am fucking your son.
But self-pity is an ugly waste of time, so Erwin quickly straightens, clears his throat and takes a ticket from the roll, waits his turn in line. He's here with a clear mission, an end that has to be reached. Diversions are non-inclusive in this plan.
Still, waiting leaves him time to think. She's protective of Eren, and rightfully so, because despite Eren's seemingly aggressive bark, he doesn't have much of a bite to him. That, and the fact that his father up and left them all only a few years ago, and Eren treats that subject alone like a festering, open wound, so Erwin is left to assume the rest. He expects Carla might be struggling, in her own way. Mikasa too. Erwin thinks, what if she sees me as a potential father figure for her son? and he forcefully pushes past that line of thinking like swallowing a bag of fucking rocks. It's unhealthy, it hurts, and it helps no one. Especially not his stomach.
#4 - Try not to let sex happen while still on his campus, particularly in the parking lot. Surely there are laws against that sort of thing.
Eren has a habit of fidgeting, particularly in Erwin's car, with all the bells and whistles it has on offer within it. Erwin wouldn't know what half of it even does -- he'd only bought the damn thing because it was as opulent a purchase as it was economically sound.
Eren ends up turning on the music somehow, and he puts on this filthy sounding slow beat with lots of moaning vocals, and Erwin is left to fondly roll his eyes. They're parked way out in the back, as usual, as Erwin likes to wait while the rest of Eren's team leaves before them -- just as a precaution.
The song hits a sort of deep, rumbling crescendo and Eren tilts his hips upwards, like he's adjusting his balls in his boxers or something. Erwin's glance flicks towards him and he catches Eren watching him, biting his lip.
"Wanna fuck you to this song," Eren murmurs, and -- bless him -- he's blushing, his cheeks suffused a deep red.
Erwin glances around the lot, watches as a few more familiar cars drive out onto the main road. It's nearly empty, or as empty as it will get at this time of night.
"Put it on a playlist, you're good at that sort of thing." Erwin then thinks for a moment, and then turns to peer curiously at his hormonally ruffled boyfriend. "Or have you done this already?"
"You could suck me off," Eren says perfunctorily, always blunt. It makes the sex, at least, very easy. "Right here, right now."
Erwin takes Eren's hand in his, lifts it to his mouth. He twists it, pressing a wet, lingering kiss to the very center of his palm.
He hums, "Mm, as much as I would love to, sweetheart, I don't think my back can bend that way anymore."
Eren grins at him. "I'll make it easy for you."
Eren vaults over the center console, jostling the entire vehicle in what Erwin imagines is a rather suspicious looking bounce. His focus is trained on the boy, though, who is now filling his entire scope of vision. Eren's shoulders and head seem to be smashed into the ceiling, his knees pinning Erwin deliberately to his seat by balancing on the arm rests. If he were to move backwards at all he would surely end up unintentionally honking the horn, and then they'll be in real trouble.
But his hips are positioned just there, and Erwin isn't interested in whatever's happening outside of the car, so he tugs Eren towards his face.
"You're going to end up getting me either killed or arrested one of these days, I hope you know that," Erwin says, while swiftly ripping open Eren's jeans.
Eren shrugs, awkwardly with the scrunched position, but Erwin glances up at him and catches a teasing tilt to his smile.
"Wouldn't be a huge loss," he says, and his hands find tight purchase at the headrest of Erwin's seat as Erwin sucks him into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head. "Yeah," Eren encourages, halfway caught between a sigh and a moan.
Erwin sucks him off with focused precision, his hands squeezing Eren's ass, shucking his jeans and boxers down a little lower every time. He pushes inside of him as he takes him in deeper -- dry, with just the very tip of one finger. He swallows Eren far enough that his nose is buried in the rough patch of hair, and he's surrounded by his scent. His jaw aches and his dick throbs, but the sounds Eren makes are worth the struggle.
Eren comes with a jolt, and he collapses over Erwin's body. Erwin can't see, but it sounds like he has his face pressed into the leather of the headrest behind Erwin's skull. He’s forced to swallow him down, which he isn't usually a fan of doing (he usually prefers to feed it to Eren, if he's forced to, with a slick push of his tongue into the boy's mouth). Still, it isn't bad, and Eren is panting and shivering with little aftershocks, so Erwin carefully tucks him back into his pants, and then helps rearrange him back into the passenger seat.
He shifts his own hips, adjusting his erection tenting his pants, squeezing it a little. It feels, somehow, less illegal if he leaves himself forgotten in this scenario. Even though Eren is an adult too, and could easily get pulled in for indecent exposure, he still somehow always feels like the innocent one, to Erwin. He's not sure what that says about him, and he doesn't dwell on it.
Eren adjusts the seat with a heavy sigh, letting it slide all the way back. He turns on the seat warmer, lays all splayed out like a cat in the sun. At least, Erwin notices, it seemed to pass the time waiting a fair bit quicker.
As he's turning out onto the main road, Erwin glances with an amused grin at Eren, who has his face turned to the side, his cheek pressed into the back of the seat.
"Never thought the smell of leather would be kind of a turn on," Eren mumbles, and Erwin thinks, oh, fuck you very much for putting that idea into my head.
#5 - Avoid his sister at all costs.
Erwin is late, again. This time it's to picking up Eren after practice, and it's only 20 odd minutes past the time he said he'd be there, but it still prickles beneath the surface of his skin uncomfortably, and seeing Eren frowning down at the ground feels like being stabbed with a rusty knife.
What doesn't help is the presence of his sister at his side, waiting with him, the both of them sitting on the low hanging brick wall around the edge of the campus lawn. She sends Erwin a look that is direct and positively murderous. Erwin is sure she knows, but Eren won't admit to telling her. Perhaps he doesn't even have to.
Erwin waits until she storms off to give a quiet, “hey”, and Eren ignores him before aggressively wrangling his backpack over the headrest in the car, shoving it into the backseat.
"I'm sorry," Erwin croaks in the car, because he'd spent the last hour yelling at his finance team -- and all for a losing fucking battle, no less.
"Whatever," Eren says, fiddling with the touch screen of Erwin's control panel, doing what seems to be black fucking magic with the ease at which he pulls up his own Pandora account, chooses the 'shuffle all' option and blasts the volume. Erwin can't even get the damn thing to display the time properly, nevermind navigating the rest of its bewildering functions. He'd gone almost a month with his clock an hour off before Eren made fun of him and fixed it with a few simple taps.
Later, when they fuck it's like the physical embodiment of 'having it out'. It’s a relief, because Eren knows by now that work comes first, and Erwin isn’t looking for an argument, not tonight. No, tonight Erwin sits back on his heels, holds Eren's thin hips in his lap as he fucks him. He's bottomed out, so it's less of a fuck and more a slow grind, every roll of his hips an even deeper dig into Eren's core. Eren is shoved up against the headboard, arms splayed like a swatted fly, and spitting curses through his teeth. "Fuck me, harder, yeah like that, fuck."
Erwin cups and then rolls Eren's balls in his palm, tugging a little as he slows, and Eren bucks when he comes, shouts into the pillow he suddenly presses against his face. Eren's body loses all of its tension, his muscles dissolving until he's practically a puddle, and Erwin uses this to his advantage. He holds Eren's hips and fucks him until his knees pop and he's coming so hard he can feel his gut cramp from holding out for so long.
He leans forward, guides Eren's trembling legs back to the mattress as he pulls the pillow away from Eren's face. He kisses each of Eren’s closed eyelids, and then once at the corner of his open, panting mouth. He flops to the side of Eren, groans as he shifts to lay flat on his back. It's frustrating that this takes so much out of him now, but it's been a long day. It's why the nights after Eren has practice are good - Eren seems much more content to go for one round and then sleep as opposed to his usual 'fuck until we can't breathe anymore' agenda.
"I think your sister might be a secret assassin," Erwin says casually up to the ceiling, as though commenting on the color of the paint.
Eren chuckles at his side, tosses his forearm over his eyes. "Do I wanna know?"
Erwin ponders the medallions on his ceiling, the chipped plaster. "She always seems like she’s plotting my untimely death."
"Ugh," Eren groans, and he flops like a dead fish onto his side, tosses his sweaty thigh over Erwin's hip. He hooks an ankle around Erwin’s leg, tugs them closer together, shuffling forward until his sticky, spent cock is pressed against Erwin’s skin. It isn’t at all uncomfortable. "Shut up."
Erwin traces the curve of Eren's ear with his thumb as he drifts to sleep, and he thinks, well, even if she is, at least I know there's someone else who wants to protect you from the world. Even if that includes myself.
#6 - If conversation falls on the topic of 'fathers', backtrack. Quickly.
Eren has a lot of pent up anger and resentment toward his father, which isn't at all surprising, given the circumstances. What Erwin knows is this: he left their house one day, without warning, in the middle of the night. There seems to have been no explanation, and he now lives in a completely different part of the country. He keeps in touch, but only with Eren, and apparently only infrequently via email. Eren has let slip once or twice that neither Mikasa nor his mother have ever heard from him since.
Eren seems to feel no small amount of extra responsibility because of this, and the shit his father does say when they speak isn't exactly supportive, or apologetic. He criticizes Eren's priorities, and then twists his words to suit his own agenda. Erwin has read a few of the emails, only once or twice, when Eren has shown him them himself.
Grisha had apparently left his house key on the dinner table for them to find after he’d gone. Eren carries it around with him in his pocket. Erwin only knows this because of how often Eren’s clothes end up on his floor, but while Eren is sometimes open with him about his strenuous relationship with his father, he doesn’t seem to want anyone to know he keeps the key, so Erwin doesn’t ask him about it.
If Erwin is honest he wonders if Grisha isn't drunk half the time he sends Eren emails. He seems to give Eren whiplash with his ideas and his frenetic denouncements. One minute it's "don't get a degree, college isn't worth your time, live your life" and the next it's "you were never good at school, and you won't amount to shit if you don't get your act together". It drives Eren crazy, and Erwin is completely and utterly sympathetic.
Eren shows up one night, completely unannounced at his door, bundled in his team hoodie with his shoulders twitching from the cold. Erwin knows immediately from the angry red of his eyes that Something has happened.
They don't do this, or they didn't used to. Eren didn't used to come here of his own accord, and they always met at predetermined dates or times. Eren says, "can I come in?", with such an achingly raw voice that Erwin doesn't bother bringing that up, only ushers him inside, away from the bitter late-autumn chill.
"Talk to me," Erwin murmurs, cradling Eren's head in his hands, kissing the side of his mouth, his damp cheeks.
"My dad said I should move in with him, a few days ago."
Erwin's blood runs suddenly ice cold. "Is that what you want?"
Eren makes a painful little noise. "I don't know, I was thinking about it? He said he could get me a job, we could travel together, see the country. It didn't make a whole lot of sense, but I got his reply tonight and when I asked him about it he fucking denied it. Said it wasn't serious, it's unrealistic, and I need to do better at school."
A guilt-ridden rush of relief washes over Erwin, and to keep from voicing any of this he kisses Eren. Eren stays miserably still, so Erwin kisses him again. Again, and again, and again.
"I know it's hard, but the only opinion that matters here is your own," Erwin says, tilting Eren's head so that he's forced to look at him. "It's your life, your choices. You know what you need to do with school, you know your own weaknesses. You don't need his validation, even though you might want it."
"Would you have asked me to stay?" Eren asks him quietly.
Erwin shakes his head, his mouth opening to speak, but he stumbles over the words in his mind and settles for silence instead. He can't answer that, not without tipping the already delicate balance of whatever this is between them.
Eren scowls at him, bares his teeth and pulls away with an unnecessarily harsh shove. Erwin rubs tiredly at the back of his neck. He was just about to fall fitfully into sleep when Eren knocked.
"You're just like him, you know. Take what you want, don't think about anyone else, how they might feel. You're selfish."
Eren's words are cold and detached, intentionally cutting, and Erwin sighs before heading back towards his room. He's too tired to fight.
"Stay, if you want," he says over his shoulder, and Eren -- not for the first time, oddly enough -- chooses to sleep on his couch.
#7 - Work out and stockpile gatorade in your fridge, because chances are he's got the stamina of the goddamn energizer bunny.
Keeping up with Eren's seemingly endless sex drive requires some amount of almost acrobatic ability. He's horny all the goddamned time, but he's honest about it, so Erwin can't not indulge him. It's what endeared him to Eren in the first place. He knows what he wants, in most aspects at least.
Erwin traipses into his kitchen with a deep set ache in his quads, having convinced himself he's pulled his hamstring or something of equal bodily damage. He had Eren against the wall, grunting into the sweaty skin of his neck. The muscles in his arms burn -- particularly the right one -- and his legs feel like jelly. Electrolytes, he thinks. He needs to hydrate.
He opens his fridge, catalogs the entire shelf of neon colored energy drinks. He picks one for himself, and one to bring to Eren -- and then jolts as thin, warm arms encircle his waist.
"Still thirsty?" Eren's voice rumbles from behind him, and Erwin can feel the way he lifts himself up onto his toes as he bites playfully at Erwin's exposed nape.
Erwin laughs, still entirely out of breath, and Eren moves back to give him room to shut the fridge door. He tosses Eren an ice cold bottle to hydrate with, and leans back with an amused smirk at the finesse with which Eren catches it. He even hops his bare ass up onto Erwin's five thousand dollar granite countertops, sits there like he owns the damn place. Erwin's amusement minutely shifts into exasperation.
"Do I wear you out? Be honest," Eren asks with a shit eating grin, and Erwin thinks, god yes, but he chooses not to answer with complete honesty.
The thing about Eren is he's disarmingly open when he wants to be. Even the way he's sitting now, parting his knees, his soft cock resting on the cool surface of the countertop, leaning back on his hands as he ignores the unopened bottle to his side. He kicks his feet a few times at Erwin's cupboards, and Erwin thinks it must be literally impossible not to be charmed by him. Sometimes this fact makes him worry. For now it only seems to manifest a slow spike of warmth down the length of his stomach, like the first gulp of hot tea on a cool day.
Erwin shrugs it off, plays up to the nonchalance he knows Eren likes. "You can keep trying to, if you like."
Eren's grin turns shy, and he pokes Erwin's hip with his foot. He murmurs a quiet, "C'mere," and Erwin obliges, moving towards him.
He's just so boyishly alive sometimes, like a light that never seems to dim, burning even brighter when you think it should be finally starting to lose its spark. Eren is so energized by movement, by touch, by even focused aggression. He's just fucking interesting to be around, and he makes Erwin feel just... good. Yeah. It feels good.
Eren takes advantage of his moment of weakness, and Erwin has half a second to worry if his thoughts are written all over his face before Eren grabs him by the neck, pulls him close enough to lick filthily into his mouth.
Erwin slides Eren's hips forward, his chest going warm at the startled laugh Eren pushes into the kiss with the squeaking sound his ass makes skidding against the counters. He bends easily, molds to the shape Erwin's guiding hands push upon him.
They end up fucking on that five thousand dollar granite, which Erwin is somewhat thankful for having purchased now. Low maintenance, easy to clean, durable. Perfect for cooking and for debauching the one thing you might actually allow yourself to love.
#8 - Just avoid the subject of family altogether, even your own. This means no holiday dinners (but office parties are fair game).
The office christmas party is no humble affair, Erwin knows. It's the exact opposite of intimately quiet, so it should be somewhat risky taking Eren with him as his date, but this is his domain, and his decision. And, thankfully, being in the financial district means having a boy almost half your age at your side isn't exactly something to look twice at.
Eren looks smart, adorably so. He'd listened to Erwin's somewhat loose request for him to "dress nice", which was a pleasant surprise. He's wearing a short sleeved button up with a retro looking droopy bowtie. The shirt is tucked into nice (albeit tightly fitted) slacks with a pair of pointed black shoes and a somewhat feminine looking black peacoat that he'd left in the coat room along with Erwin's jacket. Erwin wonders if the coat is his sister's, though he doesn't ask. Even his hair is delightfully tame, for once, though Erwin ends up ruffling it with the way he constantly has a warm and mildly possessive hand pressed against the back of Eren's neck.
His coworkers don't ask, more than likely because they know Erwin is not willing to tell. Mike sends him a somewhat suggestive glance, raising a single eyebrow, silently judging. Erwin smiles, because if he's good at any one thing with Mike it's talking without words. 'You brought him?’ says the amused tilt to Mike’s smile, and then, ‘Congrats on your newfound immoral resolve.' Erwin discretely flips him the bird as he walks past, his mature response. Eren has been rubbing off on him, it seems.
Eren isn't quite old enough to drink, but he's only a few months off, and Erwin is responsible about it. He only has a few himself, and begins handing Eren the non-alcoholic cider once he starts to get a little pink in the cheeks, his conversation that much more enthused by tipsy determination.
The whole affair is shockingly easy. Eren sticks to his side, devours almost an entire plate of christmas tree cookies, makes Petra practically bloom in sheer delight with the enthusiastic proclamation that they're the best he's ever tasted. Eren even sits through his boring speech, doesn't cringe at the awkward fatherly praise he showers on his employees, and then even stands and applauds with the rest of them. He makes a haughty brat of a face when he does, plays up the golf clap with a mischievous wink, and while Erwin thinks, he's such a little shit, he thinks it with the entire width and breadth of his too full heart.
He kisses Eren only after they pick up their coats, behind the privacy of an empty corner in the hallway, pressing his thin, beautiful body into the wall. It's only because these moments are theirs, not anyone else's. It has nothing to do with fear, it's actually more petty than that, somehow. It is selfish, and he knows it. Eren is not always wrong.
Of course, even the happiest of moments have to come to an end. Reality is a particularly hard thing to swallow, especially for Eren. He doesn't seem to like to be alone around this time of year.
"So, what are you doing for Christmas?" Eren asks, cautiously casual, as Erwin drives him home.
Erwin braces himself, tightens his hands on the wheel of his car. "I'm going home to my family for a few days, I'll be home the day after."
He deliberately leaves out the fact that 'family' means 'mother', and that his father has been dead for quite some time. It would make it too easy for Eren to hone in on a connection, a weakness they both share. It wouldn’t be accurate, either way -- Erwin loved his father, dearly. That’s not to say Eren doesn’t love his, but it’s different.
"So, I'm not invited, then," Eren says, and it is definitely not a question.
Erwin sighs, pulling up to the corner at the end of Eren's street, below the mild glow of the streetlamp overhead. "Eren--"
"No, I get it," Eren bites, "Don't shit where you eat."
Erwin turns on him with a firm glare. "Do you realize where you just were? Where we were, together? I don't think I let go of you the entire night--"
"No, but you'll let go when it's convenient for you, right?"
Erwin sighs, deflating. "Please don't do this."
"I would take you in there, right now," Eren says, his voice as sharp as a knife, pointing in the direction of his family home. "I would tell everyone. But you wouldn't, because it means you'd lose your only escape route."
"Eren," Erwin begins, forcing his tone to be patient, forgiving, when his heart is stuttering a weak, silent struggle within the confines of his chest. He takes Eren's hands in his, grips them tightly. "Family is tricky, you know this. It has nothing to do with you, I'm just not ready to open the floodgates of my personal life on them like that, not yet."
"It has everything to do with me," Eren whispers, his voice broken, eyes glistening in unshed tears. He pulls away from Erwin, slowly, like he isn't sure he wants to. Eren begins to cry, his lower lip trembling, and like a physical pain he says, "I’m in love you."
Erwin's resolve shatters. This means something to him, it always has, and it always will. He doesn't understand this generation's flippancy with words, he'll never be able to wrap his head around it. And although he knows that's not what this is -- that Eren isn't somehow aware of his own feelings, that was never the case -- he doesn't want to use this as a cheap cover. "I love you too, but I still can't introduce you to my family yet." It feels cruel.
Not that his other choice isn't just as cheap, but it feels fairer, in the grand scheme of things.
"Your mother needs you here, your family needs you. It's just a few days, sweetheart."
Eren laughs with a bitter lack of humor, and then ensures he slams the car door as hard as he possibly can before storming off down his street without another word.
It hurts, Erwin thinks. It feels like swallowing glass, losing small pieces that wedge into your windpipes to do long term damage while the bigger pieces tear you apart. But it's better him than Eren. He still hasn't decided on a gift, and wonders if he shouldn't have given it to him before he had to leave.
#9 - Don't do it. Just don't. Do not date a college boy when you are a well established man approaching your 40's with a Tesla and company stock options, it's a terrible idea.
Eren starts to avoid him after christmas, and it's frustrating but Erwin was half expecting this to happen. It is, sadly, age appropriate, Erwin thinks bitterly. Erwin knows family holidays are hard on Eren, and yeah, okay, maybe he could have been a little more clear with the more emotional types of boundaries their relationship needs to have -- but then he doesn't want there to be any of that. He doesn't want to hide Eren, or hide with him, or however else his sense of responsibility can permutate into guilt.
It’s only been a few days but the simple awareness that Eren is willingly ignoring Erwin is surrounding him on all sides. The touch screen panel in his car feels mockingly bright. He finds a clump of Eren's brown hair stuck in his shower drain and stares at it for a solid few minutes while searing hot water pounds into his skin. The gatorade in his fridge feels excessive and kind of pathetic out of context. Erwin feels pathetic, and he hates feeling that way. And out of context, too -- it's like he's forgotten what his life was like before Eren invaded it so fully. He wishes Eren would cut the bullshit teenage angst act and just talk to him, even if it's to tell him to fuck off for good.
If Eren is acting immature about all of this, then Erwin is really no better. Eren ignores his texts. It's a normal response for someone that's hurt, for someone that's potentially going through a rough time at home. This train of thought spirals out of control into worry, and that's Erwin's excuse for searching Eren's name online, looking for the profiles he knows are there. He finds Eren's instagram, feels like a fucking creep scrolling through the pictures, but he's smiling in almost all of them. The most recent ones are of him and his mother, Armin, and Mikasa. They look like a family, and the pictures have that certain kind of warmth to them.
Erwin closes that tab, and he thinks. Eren has been ignoring his calls too, but he hadn't bothered to leave any messages. It's only been a few days since he got back, his fridge now stocked for the next week and a half with leftovers from his mother who still seems to want to cook for a much larger audience than she ends up receiving with just him. Eren would have eaten the entire goddamn table of food, if he'd been there. And he'd tell his mother it was the best food he'd ever tasted, and Erwin aches, just a little, a sharp twinge beneath the muscle over his left breast. He will take him (if Eren still wants to go) next year. The timing just didn’t feel right.
He decides to make it a little more clear what his intentions are, and the next time he calls he leaves Eren a message. He keeps it brief. "I missed you, I want to see you, give me a call." It's as straightforward as he's going to get without begging, and he isn't going to do that. Eren is capable of making his own decisions -- whether he wants to talk to Erwin again or not, it's all up to him.
Erwin goes out to the mall to keep his mind busy Sunday afternoon after christmas. There's hoards of people perusing the immediate post-holiday sales, and Erwin waits patiently in line at the jewelers next to the chocolate shop. He buys an 18k white gold micro link chain, with no pendant. The woman gift wraps it for him, grinning knowingly at Erwin as she tightens the white ribbon bow over the box.
He keeps the receipt in his wallet, just in case Eren doesn't decide to call him back.
#10 - Remember your humble beginnings, keep things in perspective.
They met at what Eren would now call a 'fancy bar', although Erwin knows it's just like any other bar downtown. This one doubled as a night club, and it's where Eren and his friends decided to spend the night celebrating the end of the semester and the beginning of summer when Eren was nineteen. There was a whole group of them dancing, they all seemed to know the songs off by heart. Eren was grinding with the little blonde one, who he knows now as Armin, laughing every time the two of them locked eyes, and when the crescendo of the music hit they were all jumping in time with it.
Erwin watched from his seat at the bar. He hadn't come here to find someone, but Eren seemed to draw him in anyway. His coworkers had long since gone, and Erwin was enjoying his glass of Glenmorangie, neat, and Eren caught him staring a few songs later. The thing was, he stared right back, made the most intensely focused eye contact as the songs began to get deeper, heavier. He kept his eyes on Erwin as he trailed his hands down over his hips, and Erwin smiled at him. He finished off what was left of his drink in a single gulp, and then tilted his head in silent suggestion.
Erwin waited for him outside by the taxi stand, thankful for the rain and the somewhat early hour, as there wasn't anyone else outside, or not very many. Eren approached him, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans, like this was an everyday sort of thing for him.
"So, what's your name?" Eren had asked, completely unashamed and blunt. He didn't seem all that drunk, his words were distinct and his eyes were bright.
"Erwin," he'd said.
"Erwin what?"
"Smith."
Eren had laughed, flashing bright white teeth. "Oh, okay, I'm John Doe, nice to meet you."
Erwin laughed pleasantly, and it was as if the deep timbre of his voice was magnetic to Eren. He kept swaying a little closer, almost unnoticeable.
"Worried I'll spill all your dirty secrets?"
Erwin smirked in genuine amusement. "No, it really is Smith."
Eren shrugged, grinning crookedly. "If you say so."
"And what should I call you?"
"Eren. Eren Jaeger."
He was still out of breath, covered in a thin sheen of sweat from all the dancing, his already somewhat torn to pieces tank top half falling off of his thin shoulders. Erwin hailed them a cab, took him back to his house.
The memory of what came after that is blurry. Sex with Eren the first time was energetic and exhausting, and Eren was so goddamn loud, shouting and groaning every time he was into it, fingers biting bruises into Erwin's thighs, his biceps, wherever he could reach. He was pushy too (still is) and kept maneuvering Erwin to where he wanted him, tugging on his arm as he hovered over him only to have him collapse his full weight on Eren's back. And he laughed every time Erwin's enthusiastically rough thrusting had him slipping out of Eren and missing his mark entirely.
By the time Erwin had fallen asleep that night it felt like he'd completed a fucking five hour long decathlon with no breaks. But then he got to wake up to Eren sleepily rubbing his eyes, his hair all mussed and fuzzy, and the first words out of his mouth were, "Got any cereal in this fucking hotel?", and Erwin was doomed from the very beginning.
#11 - Learn to admit that you can be wrong, that age doesn't always equal wisdom.
Eren does call.
It only really hits Erwin that he'd been genuinely panicking when he realizes that it isn't even new years eve yet. It had been barely 3 days without speaking, and Erwin thought he'd lost him. Eren admits to being angry, and Erwin apologizes, and Eren definitely isn't the only one that melts into the familiar warmth of their kisses. If Erwin clutches him a little tighter that night, Eren doesn't say anything about it.
Erwin calls in a few favors and manages to get a last minute reservation on the observation deck of the tallest tower downtown. There's a restaurant on the top floor, all surrounded by glass, and it's supposed to be like eating on top of the world, or something. Erwin isn't sure Eren will care, really (again, he'd be content with pizza on Erwin's floor with nothing but boxers and a pair of socks between them both), but it feels like he should do something special, even if it's just this once.
There's a party afterwards on the roof, with prime viewing for the fireworks they're going to set off from the barge at the river. Lots of fancy cocktails and loud music - Eren will enjoy that part, at the very least.
The dinner is nice, and Eren seems genuinely in awe of where he's decided to take him, so he gives himself a mental pat on the back and then adds one to tip the scales in favor of 'Eren might actually like to be spoiled, sometimes'. Eren powers his way through an 18oz dry aged porterhouse steak, and by the time he's scraping the very last remnants of chocolate from his vanilla mocha cheesecake off the edges of his plate with his finger, Erwin thinks he's finally had his fill. And now is a good time, really. People are already starting to make their way up to the roof, and Eren seems less focused on eating and more focused on him.
"I got you something," Erwin says, no fanfare about it, as he slides the blue wrapped box across the tablecloth. "Sorry it's late."
Eren gives Erwin a look like he's grown a second head, and then carefully unwraps the gift. He stares at the chain for a moment with a tight little frown, like it's a puzzle he can't quite figure out.
He glances up at Erwin, and the somewhat lost look in his eye makes Erwin's chest feel too small. "What...?"
"Give me your father's key," Erwin says, holding out his hand.
Eren scowls defensively. "How do you know I have that?"
"Believe it or not I do spend quite a bit of my free time undressing you. I've become familiar with what you keep in your pockets, I wasn't looking for it."
Eren still seems rather adorably confused, even more so when he cautiously hands Erwin the key and Erwin immediately moves to stand behind his chair. He slips the chain through the hole at the top of the key, and then clasps it around Eren's neck, placing it gently below his collar.
Eren takes the key in his hand, looks at it. "I don't keep this out of sentimentality, Erwin, I hate him for it."
"Yes you do," Erwin says, choosing not to clarify which part of that statement he's responding to. He leans over Eren's shoulder, presses a gentle kiss to the side of Eren's neck, just above the chain. He then says, quietly, "But it's okay to keep him close to your heart, even if it's only in memory."
Eren turns to gape at Erwin, his face a clear expression of shock, but he holds on tight when Erwin kisses his mouth this time, gripping the edge of Erwin's coat.
Up on the roof they get front row seats to the view of the city by ignoring the line for cocktails. Eren seems content, and Erwin wasn't planning on drinking anyway. He wraps his arms around Eren's shoulders from behind, squeezes him against the chilly whip of the wind from up here.
The fireworks shoot off, sharp pops and cracks whistling overhead, the light dancing in the reflections of Eren's eyes. Erwin presses in close to Eren's ear, and figures now is as good a time as any as he murmurs a quiet, "I'm not going to disappear unless you want me to."
Eren puts a hand over Erwin's, squeezes his wrist. He doesn't say anything, just keeps gazing up at the tracks of fire trailing down from the sky and he nods his head. He heard, yes, but it's almost as if he's trying to convince himself too.
#12 - Love him. And mean it, even if you can’t quite say it.
They're laid out in bed on a lazy Saturday morning, Eren wedged between Erwin's legs, using his chest as a pillow so he can watch the morning cartoons. They aren't as good as Erwin remembers them being -- there's a distinct lack of innuendo and thinly veiled adult humor -- but Eren seems at least moderately (or drowsily) amused by them.
Eren gets bored about halfway through one of the episodes, and he catches Erwin reading an ebook on his phone behind his head where he'd assumed Eren wouldn't see him. He makes a pissy, indignant little noise and he smacks the phone right out of his hand with a huff. It's his own damn fault for installing the app and showing him how to use it, but Erwin leaves it there and indulges his need for attention instead by kissing his hair and shifting farther up the headrest on his bed, so that Eren is almost looking at him upside down from his lap.
Eren's face gets suddenly thunderously serious and he says, "I think we should come out."
Erwin smiles at him, his own brain still fuzzy from sleep, and he wipes a stray smudge of sleep from the corner of Eren's eye. "Been out for years, babe."
"Ugh, not that," Eren groans, shifting so that he's sitting, facing Erwin, still as much within the 'v' of his legs as he can fit. Basketball is filling him out, the more he gets into it. "Like, I want to introduce you to my family."
Erwin nods, considering. He knew this was coming, yes, and he knew Eren would stay true to his form and be unflinchingly blunt about it, but he didn't really expect Eren to offer it like a choice -- like Erwin can say no, if he wants to.
"Okay," Erwin says, cupping the side of Eren's neck to drag him even closer.
Eren frowns in confusion, resisting slightly. "That's... that's it?"
"Why would I say no to this?"
"Because you didn't want me to go with you for christmas!" Eren practically yells, flailing his hands uselessly between them.
"I told you that wasn't about you," Erwin says, and he absently toys with the key hanging around Eren's neck, the metal warmed by his skin. He got it wrong, but he doesn't regret not inviting him. He's pretty sure his mother is ready for company. Erwin still hasn’t really talked about what ‘family’ is to him, but they have time for that. "I will warn you, my mother likes to cling. She might not let you leave," he adds.
Eren looks completely fucking bewildered, which tugs a concerned frown at the edge of Erwin's mouth. He tips Eren's face up by his chin, catches his gaze and lifts a questioning eyebrow at him.
"I thought you... wouldn't--" Eren stutters a little, shrugging like he isn't sure how to voice it.
"How could you possibly think I don't want you?" Erwin asks, stroking along the line of Eren's jaw. Eren shifts in closer to him, wraps his legs around Erwin's hips, and now he is, completely, in Erwin's lap.
Eren sighs, and the eyeroll is a bit dramatic, but Erwin huffs a quiet laugh at it anyway. "I don't really think that, I just. I can't get it out of my head sometimes, I don't know."
Erwin tugs him close, presses a firm, decisive kiss to his temple. He catches the scent of his own shampoo in Eren's hair and thinks, yes, this is it.
"It's okay to think that," Erwin says, even if a tiny part of him disagrees. They'll work on it, together.
And anyways, when it comes to dating college boys, Erwin never claimed to be the expert. You just have to make the play -- and sometimes you have to be willing to take the big risks, and be prepared to lose everything.