[ he parses it as earnestness, partly because he takes everything Erwin says in maximum good faith, but also because he's largely oblivious to that kind of thing, especially when it's directed at him. so, whichever way Erwin actually meant it, it sets him more at ease—as does the kiss, which he returns and then holds Erwin's hand there against his face in both of his own. ]

I know. It's just, I never—

[ well. it's pretty obvious, isn't it? it doesn't take an Erwin Smith-caliber brain to be able to arrive at this conclusion. it's not a point of embarrassment for him, really; complete apathy for what other (non-Erwin) people think about him aside, it's also just none of anyone else's fucking business, and even if he had a love life he wouldn't be talking to other people about it at all.

the only reason it would ever come up is an impossible situation like this, and now here they are. he blows out a sigh, frustrated with himself, and lets his forehead drop down onto their clasped hands. ]

I'm sorry. I'm so bad at telling you how I feel, and then I have an opportunity like this where I could try to show you instead but I don't know what the fuck I'm doing there, either.

[ the inexperience comes down to this: before Erwin there wasn't anyone he ever wanted, and after Erwin was gone there wouldn't be anyone ever again. that was it.

and then this place happened. ]