Sina High School was not known for its stellar sports program. It was, however, known for its ability to take everyone else down with it.

This semester they'd tried their hand at tennis, and through a dozen lost balls, a broken net, and an all-out brawl on the doubles court, had kept up the proud Sina tradition of losing to their arch-rivals from East High, the Titans. It wasn't a total wash, though. During the doubles massacre Eren had gotten to kneecap a Titan with his racquet, and it was sick as hell to watch Annie punch out that ref that'd gotten up in her face. And no one even got arrested this time – that was probably thanks to their new coach, Levi. There was a rumor going around school that he had connections in the mob and was fucking the chief of police.

There was probably a grain of truth to the rumor, Eren mused, as he glanced at Coach Levi polishing his pocket knife in the front seat of the team bus, with an oddly pleased expression on his face. He never made any secret of doing only coaching duty to fulfill his community service requirement.

Armin made a soft noise in his sleep, and adjusted his head more comfortably on Eren's shoulder. Eren nosed his hair and sighed. The doubles massacre had been set off by a Titan jeering across the court about how the reflection of the sun off Armin's braces was giving Sina an unfair advantage. Armin was sensitive about his teeth, so Eren did the right thing as his friend, doubles partner, and boyfriend by rushing over, vaulting the net, and breaking the strings of his racquet over the offending Titan's ugly fucking face. He'd gotten punched in the head for his trouble, and that'd sent Mikasa rushing the court to help, and like a well-oiled domino machine…was that the right metaphor? Eren thought to himself for a moment. Well, metaphors aside, the important thing was that the whole Sina team had jumped in to help by the end. Even Coach Hanji and Coach Levi were screaming at the Titans' coaches.

Mikasa sat on his other side on the bus seat, contentedly clicking through her e-reader. Annie snoozed quietly on the other side of the aisle, seats to herself, hoodie up and earbuds in. He heard Jean ranting up at the front of the bus how they'd get those Titans next time – Eren thought they'd gotten them pretty damn well this time. That asshole whose kneecaps he shattered sure wouldn't be talking shit about his boyfriend anymore, much less play sports.

Overall it was a real great experience.

Eren pressed a kiss to the top of Armin's head, and rested his chin there, closing his eyes.

"…since we haven't been invited back to the regional tennis championship next year, I think it's safe to say that the tennis team's down and out," Armin said. He rustled through some papers, frowning. "Back to the drawing board. If we raise some money with another car wash, maybe the school will let us back in the basketball court. I think they've probably gotten the lights back in the ceiling, by now."

Eren snorted. Bertholt was the only one of them who looked like he belonged on a basketball court, especially next to those hulking shithead Titans. Everyone knew they were all hopped up on ten kinds of steroids. Eren sprawled out more thoroughly on the floor of his bedroom, and gave a slow, easy stretch.

"Whatever we can get to face off with those fuckers one more time. I'll even do swim team again, so long as Jean doesn't insist on wearing that yellow sack wrap."

"Speedo. I don't think they've fixed the pool filter after last time, though. Or gotten the stains off the walls."

Eren's mouth twitched with pride at the memory. Armin gave him a good-natured swat to the forehead with a rolled-up liability form.

"Don't get too proud. We need to start winning games."

"I don't see how tennis was a lose for us. They certainly didn't win."

Armin gave him a flat stare. "A win in a sporting event is a determined by a demonstration of your skill at playing the game. Not by putting the other team in traction."

"…coming from the guy whose plays landed us our perma-ban from football?"

Armin's mouth twitched, and he suddenly became very invested in tapping his sheaves of paper perfectly in line. After a fashion, he replied,

"…I no longer retain liability for my actions when I hear our female teammates being collectively referred to as 'a bunch of dykes.' Regardless of how many times Ymir called the descriptor apt."

Armin took off his glasses to rub at his eyes, sighing. He wore contacts for games, even if they bothered his eyes, and pulled his hair back into a tiny ponytail. The ponytail was still there, Eren noted, and his fingers itched to snag the hair-tie; to let Armin's hair fall and settle at his chin.

"We need to start winning games," Armin repeated, firmly. "Or else our school's funding gets hacked to bits. No more arts, no more music - "

"No more chances to kneecap people," Eren added. It was a pretty terrible fate to be had.

Armin whapped him again with the paper. Eren reached up to steal his hair-tie, and, stretching it across his fingers, shot it across the room.

They should let him handle plays sometime, and not just Armin. Sometimes his plans landed the team in court, sure, but sometimes they made Armin give him that smile. Sometimes they made Armin lean down to press his lips against the side of Eren's mouth, his hair tickling at Eren's cheeks. Eren reached up to smooth Armin's hair back with his fingers; his hand settling at the back of his head, holding him there, right in place. Armin's own hand came to rest on Eren's jaw, to tilt it so their lips met.

A great end to a great day, Eren thought, as his other arm looped around Armin's waist to pull him down to rest on top of him. He got to make a bunch of fuckers bleed and got to make out with his boyfriend. Armin gave a soft moan and parted his lips, his tongue darting out to trace Eren's teeth. A great end to a great day, and, oh god, Armin's thigh was in a great position –

There was a knock at the door. Of course there was. Armin froze and scrambled off Eren hastily. Eren glowered at the door with the deepest rage a blueballed teenager could fathom.

"Dinner's ready, boys," Eren's mother called from the other side. "Mikasa's stopped by to visit, too."

At least she was considerate enough to not barge in, Eren grumbled to himself. Facing your mother with a raging hard-on was just super awkward for everyone.

"Be down in a sec."

Eren heaved a loud, heavy sigh. Armin was back to straightening his papers, his cheeks stained red. He looked over at Eren, hesitant.

"…I was thinking maybe baseball next time?"

Eren stared at the ceiling, thoughtfully. Baseball. You could kneecap someone real pretty with those bats.

Baseball sounded good.