Metamorphosis

Chapter 5

"Ignore them."

Even as Eren said the words, I couldn't help but notice the attention I was receiving for walking around in his work shirt. Everyone we passed on our way out of the bar stared at the fabric for a long moment before they turned their attention to Eren's bare chest. Judging from the understanding that crossed their faces, they had put two and two together. Part of me wanted to explain the reasoning behind my get up, but the rest of me wanted to keep that information to myself. Having his shirt on filled my chest with an undeniable warmth that I had no hope of ignoring, even when I knew that the only reason he'd offered it to me was because mine was covered in tequila. Despite that, I found myself smiling. For tonight, at least, I could pretend that I was wearing it for a completely different reason.

"Does it bother you? Wearing my shirt?" Eren asked as we made our way through a dense crowd that had gathered around a stage that was nestled in the center of the dance floor. I hadn't noticed it earlier, but I couldn't even focus on it now, not when he sounded worried. It went against everything I knew about him, which was that he was the epitome of confidence. It surprised me that I could pull such a reaction from him.

"No, it doesn't bother me at all," I replied with a small smile. Without knowing why, I added, "I like wearing your shirt." It was the truth, but I couldn't believe that I admitted it aloud, and to him of all people.

Before I could even think to feel embarrassed though, he faltered, his smooth stride turning rigid and awkward for a number of minutes. At last, he recovered and said, "That's good," in a strained voice that caused my stomach to flip flop like a fish out of water.

I was relieved when we reached the stage, but the feeling didn't last long, because Eren moved behind me and placed his hands on either side of my waist. The palms of his hands were hot against my skin as his shirt rode up on stomach. I swallowed convulsively, but no words came to mind. My brain was a riddle I couldn't begin to decipher. All it gave me was the desire to feel his hands on every part of my body.

"People can get pretty crazy when Armin comes out," Eren explained, his hands leaving my waist to grab onto the front of the stage. The absence made my heart plummet. "Trust me, you'd be getting groped, or worse. Hence the reason why I'm locking you in."

"Um." I let out a breath that caught in my throat as I reached up with shaky hands to take hold of his wrists. I had no idea what I was doing, but when I put his hands back on my waist, he didn't protest. "I think I'll be safer this way."

He tilted his head to the side to look at me, an unbelievably sexy smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. "You think so? What about this then?" He wrapped his arms around my stomach, his fingertips grazing over my hipbones. I shuddered under his touch, wanting so much more.

"T-that's definitely better." I was about to die.

"Oh? How about going out on a date with me?"

Any response I had would have to wait, because the neon lights dimmed and the music switched over to a song that sounded far too sexual. The slow beat alerted the crowd that Armin was on his way out and everyone began to chant his name. I focused my eyes on the stage just as a slender man came sauntering out from behind a velvet curtain. To say I was shocked from what I saw would be the understatement of the year, because Armin was stuffed into a leather outfit that hurt to look at.

"Oh, God," I said.

Eren chuckled. "What? Can't see yourself in that?"

"How would I even fit in it? It's skin tight."