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Of all days, she looked the most irresistible to him that night.
Her yellow dress was of satin, the hem barely reaching her thighs. When wine hadn’t made her a little tipsy, she would press them against each other out of awkwardness, correcting the thin strap on her shoulder. Yeah, two thin straps on both bare shoulders, and three thin, literally invisible ones holding the back together. Sasha’s idea, Eren guessed. Absolutely Sasha’s freaking Braus’ idea.
At restaurant, when he had asked for her coat, she had only shook her head. Two small shakes, from north to south but deliberate enough that Eren didn’t ask for it the second time. Maybe it was the length that was making her uncomfortable, Eren wondered, for he had never seen her in something till knees. Not even a skirt. They ate in silence, and like a decent gentleman, Eren only commented about how the color yellow looked different on her.
Well, absolutely, a good different but, God, never in his entirety he could have imagined what awaited him beyond that woolen coat of hers.
She was the one to shed it off.
And he was the one to forget how to breathe for a second.
No, not that poetic type of how to breathe, but the literal type that out of shock, Eren even forgot that before him, wasn’t standing a random woman but his very own wife. He helped her with those sandals too, the one that had those rings that snared her legs till their calves. Eren knew that the brunette was behind it as well. Because it was possible that Mikasa or Eren wouldn’t know that Mikasa would get drunk this evening, but Sasha Braus really did, that too with impacts.
He placed the pair neatly by the main door and till then, behind him, she fiddled with her coat, trying to figure out how to hang it on the stand. Eren got up and took it from her hold, quietly hooking it against one of the hooks.
“Eren?”
“Hmmm?” Eren didn’t look back.
“I feel light!” Mikasa said. She sounded as if it was a problem. A problem she was guilty of because now, he had to deal with it.
“It’s fine!” Eren said slowly, getting up and turning around. He didn’t blink when he looked at her. Not until his stare deepened enough to notice the plush of pink smeared over her cheeks. Her lips looked redder than he remembered, probably the wine, lashes thick and long as if they would come to life, grow the wing of their own and fly away any moment. She had her hands folded against her front, looking at him as though she awaited his answer.
Eren only reached out, softly wrapping his hand around her elbow. Her bare elbow that was warm enough to make him swallow. Eren didn’t let it show. Not that she would have noticed it anyway.
“Would you mind if I carry you?”
Mikasa shook her head.
“Alright!”
Eren did it carefully, so carefully, collecting her within his hold. His palm unconsciously shifted to the part where there was some of the fabric. But their softness too. No, not there, Eren cleared his throat, pulled his hand back but utmost avoided touching her back, that satin threads at her waist the only barrier in between. He waited until she had both her fist clutching his shirt from the shoulder, her eyes closed, face somewhat crooned with his neck.
“You okay?” He asked, maybe tried to loosen the strain.
“Hmm!” Eren felt her nodding.
“Feel like throwing up?”
“No!” Her head shook against his neck.
“Washroom or Bedroom?”
“Bed….!”
And with that, only that, she went quiet.
Eren mapped the distance purely on instincts, she wasn’t heavy, not really but the mistake of not turning the lights on as soon as they had entered home, made each of his step cautious. Mikasa sighed when he lowered her on the bed, lazily squirming in the warmth of the mattress. It was only for a while though, for when Eren tried to loosen her hold that she had on him by locking his arms around his neck, she went too still, staring at him so intently that it finally pulled Eren’s eyes back to her face.
“You need something?’
He asked again, when the silence began to feel too dangerous. But Mikasa didn’t say anything. She didn’t even move. Not a sliver.
Eren’s hands loosened around her arms when he felt them moving on their own. He waited, waited with a braced breath until her fingers traced the skin on his neck. They skimmed him, curiously and then - to much of his own surprise, they reached up and her palms pressed flat against his ears.
Eren didn’t understand the gesture, not until she commented – murmured to be exact. “Your ears are warm, Eren!”
And only then, he exhaled, felt his breath finally losing in his chest.
“They are?”
“Hmm!” She nodded. “I am cold!”
Eren put one of her hands down. “Let me bring you a hoodie then!”
“No!”
“What?”
“No!” She grabbed his wrist when he stood up. “I don’t want one!”
Mikasa pulled him back and Eren let her. He let her. He let her sneak close when he had only settled at the edge of their bed. Eren pulled the folded the quilt from the edge and draped it over her body. She smiled a little, looking at him and wordlessly asked for his hand again. Eren let her have it too.
“You feel tipsy?”
“No!”
“Tired?”
“No!”
Mikasa shook her head.
“Come to bed, Eren!”
She said, a while after and Eren didn’t protest at that either.
He lowered himself and took off his shoes, then his socks, and then his watch, keeping it on the night stand without making noise. Behind him, she quietly waited until he came back and straightened himself by her side. Eren slowly turned, his gaze meeting her wide, dark eyes.
Mikasa didn’t say anything for a second, only looked at him quietly. It almost made Eren smile when finally, she moved and tried to offer him a fair share of the blanket. She tried to make it reach his shoulder, her movements not clumsy anymore. Eren inhaled a little deeply when at their utmost closure, he smelled the perfume she had worn. That was usual, hers, mingled with the whiffs of coconut that rose from her hair. Eren thanked God that at least Sasha hadn’t meddled with that. That was his wife, with a different dress and different heels, but yes, with the exact same scent she had used for years.
Same scent that finally dissolved whatever composure Eren had left and made him pull her closer on nothing but impulse.
A pure, intentional impulse.
Both of Mikasa’s hands fisted against his back, her face nestling back within the crook of his neck while her shoulders went small, her whole body folding within his hold.
Eren inhaled the scent of her hair again, feeling her sigh against his skin. The warmth of her breath made him swallow, quite hard. Eren didn’t know what had made him done so when he unclipped her hair, the charcoal stream pooling against the pillow as soon as he slid the hair catch off.
Some of the locks danced against his arm.
Some against her cheek.
Eren kept the hair catch on the night stand and slowly slid one unkempt strand behind her ear, his fingertip playing with the small pearl studded within in her earlobe.
Mikasa sighed again.
Her cheek pressing against his throat.
“Eren?” She called, almost silently.
“Hmmm?”
“Tonight..!” Mikasa came back to him, her nose brushing softly against his cheek when she said, “Did I embarrass you?’
“How come?”
“The dress!” Mikasa cleared her throat, Eren guessed that she had somewhat sobered up.
“A little!” He admitted, his hand palming her waist from where the knots were. Eren pulled her closer, so much that the softness of her body plucked goosebumps on his arms. “But that’s on me!” He sighed, came back to her as he looked into her eyes and cradled her cheek. “Because you don’t need to wear anything that makes you uncomfortable, Mikasa, not for me at least!”
Hearing that, stars begun trembling in the cradle of her eyes. Mikasa murmured something, locked her arms around his neck again, pulling him closer when he brushed her hair away to leave a tender kiss on her neck. It was warm, her skin, almost hot, almost melting.
Eren breathed, his hand keeping itself against the knots at her waist.
“Where did you even get it from?”
“Huh?”
“The dress!” Eren pressed his mouth against her forearm, gently slinging it over his shoulder. “It doesn’t seem to be yours!”
“It’s not!” She squirmed a little, her bare toes curling against leg.
“Then?”
“Sasha!” Mikasa mumbled, her breath smelled like wine. “She said men like dresses like that!”
“As in what?”
“All those...straps!”
And Eren couldn’t help but laugh.
“They are easy to pull!” Mikasa snickered too, bringing her lips close to his ear as if it was a secret that she couldn’t manage to say out loud. “You know with stuff like that and all!”
“Stuff?”
“Mhmm!” Mikasa nodded, and then, she kissed his ear. Her lips were soft, the sensation that she left behind so addictive that Eren almost hissed under his breath. He could do nothing, pull nothing when she kissed his cheek. Eren’s palm pressed flat against her back, his nose dipping to revel in the soft musk of her throat.
“Come closer!” Mikasa sighed.
“I already am!”
“No, not that!” Her head shook. “You know what I mean, Eren!”
And well, Eren Yeager exactly knew what she meant.
Eren kissed the side of her throat, his fingers brushing against the nakedness of her back. Mikasa slightly shifted, her hands carding through the hair on his nape. Eren groaned a little, pressing her body within the mattress before finding the soft spot that joined her neck to her shoulder. He kissed it, the softness fueling his urge to suck harder and leave imprints. Eren’s breath grew heavy when Mikasa fiddled with the buttons of his dress shirt, he flinched, grabbing her wrist a little too quickly.
“Wait!” He panted. “Slow down I..!” Eren corrected the strap on her shoulder. “Mikasa, wait a little!”
“Why?”
“You don’t know what you are doing!”
“And?”
“And?” Eren went quiet for a moment. He then came back to her, palming her face before he looked into her eyes and left a light kiss on her cheek. “I want you to know what you are. Every bit of it!”
“I do!”
“You don’t!” He shook his head. “You had wine. You are tired!”
“I am not drunk, Eren!”
“You are!”
“Then I will pay you back for it in the morning!”
And with that, Mikasa pulled him closer. Her kiss was enough to discard whatever notions of decency Eren had been heaping earlier. Her lips were soft, tasting exactly of wine but sweeter and when Eren met her halfway through it, a soft moan of hers slipped into his mouth, making him go almost crazy. His fingers fiddled with the lowest knot on her back, the other slipping off the strap that he had just corrected on her shoulder. Eren groaned against her skin, the loosening threads on her back exposing the first swells of her breasts.
Eren sighed, palming her waist as she arched it up.
“Eren!” Mikasa whispered into his ear. “Eren please take your shirt off!”
And Eren did, Eren did take his shirt off.
He came back to her, almost primal at the desire that filled up her half lidded eyes. Eren palmed her throat and kissed her again, almost groaning into her mouth while his other hand squeezed the side of her waist.
He needed to stop.
Goddamn, he needed to stop.
But did he, no he didn’t.
Not until she was sighing and splintering within his arms.
No until the need to touch her was throbbing like an ache within the whole of his being.
The wine still lingered in her breath, Eren could tell and by God, the last thing he wanted from her was a twisted consent. With some gathered scraps of control, Eren separated himself away from her, bracing his weight on his elbow. She looked so small beneath him, too low on guard, too Goddamn vulnerable. Their eyes met, and none of them looked away for a second.
It was Eren who spoke first, who kissed her again. But not with heat, but with the agony he had known for years.
“Go to sleep!”
“I don’t want to!”
“You need to!”
Mikasa said nothing at it, only buried her cuticles quite deep within his shoulders. Eren hissed, with pain, with pleasure, fisting his hand against the loosened knots of her dress. He opened his eyes, watching how the flurry of heavy breaths secreted from her mouth, her cheeks burning with deep red. Eren’s jaw moved when he slipped another mussed strand behind her ear, feeling the urge of shyness finally hit her as she pressed herself quite hard into him.
He let her.
The weight of her body leaning into his chest.
Her legs pressing flush against his.
“I love you a lot!”
She told him. Once. Only once and Eren felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. He swallowed, held her through and through. Eren didn’t say anything even when the impact of the words sank in, only left a tender kiss on her forehead which she accepted whilst closing her eyes.
“Come closer!”
“No!”
Mikasa looked up at him. “Why?”
“Because you are tired, that’s why!”
“Eren, I am not-”
“We are not having this conversation again, Mikasa!” Eren picked his discarded shirt from the floor. He made Mikasa sit up and supported her arms on her shoulders again. Eren eased them one by one in the sleeves, watching how she looked at him through his peripheral vision.
She was quiet.
And more than that, she was sleepy. He could tell.
“You are not going anywhere, are you?” She asked, when he adjusted her head against his arm, pulling her back into his embrace.
“I am not!” Eren shook his head, almost whispered into her hair. “I still owe my wife a proper good morning!”
***