Reiner feels that too-long stare, glancing over to meet Eren's eyes. Ensuring that Eren is only looking, not lost. He likes feeling Eren's eyes on him, a stare that once rang warning bells now sparking something entirely different, warmth crackling in his chest. But he knows that Eren gets lost in his head sometimes, although the details of those moments remain a mystery.
Maybe someday, Eren will tell him. Maybe someday, Reiner will do the same.
He huffs a laugh at Eren's insistence about the cheeseburger. Eren is right: Reiner does want to try that. He doesn't argue about Eren paying, either, but he has a stipulation.
"All right," he agrees. "But I'll pay for the ice cream cake."
That seems only fair.
Reiner orders a cheeseburger with "everything," figuring he can remove things from the not-a-sandwich if he doesn't like them. (He doubts he'll feel the need to do so.) He also gets the mysterious onion rings, deep-fried chiles, and a blueberry milkshake.
Hopefully, the two of them end up liking milkshakes. Whatever they are.
Once Eren pays, Reiner accepts some weird disc that the cashier explains will "buzz" when their order is ready. (Reiner has no idea what that means, but it should be obvious enough, right?) Then he tugs Eren's hand toward an outdoor table, examining the disc as they make their way to their seats.
"Every time I think I'm caught up on the technology here, someone says something that makes no sense." Reiner shakes his head, gesturing with the disc. "All I can imagine is a buzzing bee."
For once, the only thing Eren is lost in is Reiner, not his own head. Embarrassing, really, but he doesn't bother letting himself be embarrassed. They've been holding hands this whole fucking time, after all. Who cares if they're staring at each other like idiots? Who would see? If anyone they know sees, Eren doesn't care anyway.
Eren does almost argue about the paying thing, opening his mouth to remind Reiner whose birthday it is. But he shuts it again. It's not like money matters to either of them, he's pretty sure, and Reiner made it clear he wanted to celebrate Eren's birthday all these months later.
"...Okay."
Eren has a vague idea that "milkshake" is like "ice cream" from seeing one before but he's never had one. He can't imagine blueberry ice cream though, so that's enticing.
He lets Reiner pull him to the table and slides into a seat, finally (reluctantly) relinquishing his hold on the other boy's hand.
He stares at the disc thing. Buzz? Like a bee? How or why? That's a complete mystery to him too. Why don’t they just call names like normal? Whatever.
"I have no idea what that thing is," he says. "The technology here really is nuts."
As soon as they release each other's hands (Reiner just as reluctantly as Eren), Reiner mourns the loss of contact. His palm is cold without Eren's pressed against it, fingers feeling strange when they're no longer entwined. He manages to restrain himself from reaching for Eren's hand again. (At least, for the moment.) But as soon as they sit, Reiner finds Eren's foot beneath the table and casually hooks their ankles together, greedy for any sort of contact.
Was he always so greedy for touch? He doesn't know. He's always been physically affectionate, having no reservations about squeezing a friend's shoulder or patting a kid on the head. But this greed—this need—feels like more than that. Something centered on Eren, specifically.
Whatever the case, Reiner feels satisfied once they're touching again, even if it's under the table.
"Yeah, it is," he agrees. "Sometimes, I wonder why they invented certain things."
He gestures at the disc as if to say, Case in point.
Then he folds his hands loosely on the table, his gaze rising to meet Eren's again. Tilting his head to the side, he asks, "You said there was something you wanted to tell me in person, right?"
Not that Reiner remembered that, drunk as he was. He had to reread it once sober.
Eren's visibly surprised at the contact, but of course it's welcome. Reiner isn't the only one greedy for contact. Eren might try to tell himself it's loneliness, but he knows better. It's Reiner. He wants to touch other people, but not like this.
He raises an eyebrow. He hadn't actually expected Reiner to remember, but he planned to talk anyway. There's no point in hiding the info that he got from Ellipsa's leaders. It affects them both, after all.
He looks down at his hands resting on the tabletop.
"Yeah. It's...I don’t know if I quite believe it yet but I learned something important. You should know too."
Reiner watches the emotions play across Eren's face, glimpses of anything that isn't blankness wonderful and welcome. He's getting better at reading Eren's expression, strange as he sometimes still finds it. Or maybe it has nothing to do with Reiner's perception at all; maybe Eren is becoming more expressive in general. Reiner has no way to know if it only happens around him or if it's a broader change—if that is indeed what's happening.
Of course, as soon as Reiner thinks that, he immediately loses track of Eren's mood. He watches Eren's eyes, trying to gauge if the news is good or bad but coming up empty.
The price he pays for his hubris.
"All right," he says, his voice quieter, serious. "Is it a bad thing?"
Maybe that question will help Eren dig into whatever it is.
Maybe it's both: Reiner's ability to understand Eren in a way most people can't these days, and Eren slowly remembering that he's a human being as much as he's a monster. Baby steps.
He raises an eyebrow a little.
"You think I'd ruin your birthday with bad news?" he asks. It's an absurd question; they both know he would.
He shakes his head though.
"No, it's…it's good. I just don't know how to deal with it."
His hands flex against the table and he picks at the edge of his thumb, nervous energy seeking an outlet. It's not quite violence, but it's still got that hinted edge. He's never been good at directing his inner turmoil into anything that isn't at least a little destructive.
He takes a deep breath and looks up at Reiner again.
"The leaders of this place…they told me they can't sense any curse. That for whatever reason, the magic that brought us here and all, it somehow…cancels out our death sentences."
It is indeed an absurd question. Reiner manages to keep his dubious look restrained, merely cocking an eyebrow as if to say, "Well, yeah." Eren is the most vengeful person Reiner has ever met. If Eren decided to ruin Reiner's birthday and their date at the same time, it would hurt, but it wouldn't necessarily come as a surprise.
But they like this better when they're not angry at each other, right? This nameless, fragile thing that allows them to walk beneath cherry blossoms hand-in-hand? So Reiner keeps his expression restrained, and Eren doesn't throw bad news in his face.
Instead, Eren picks at his thumb, visibly nervous. Reiner's brows pinch together, fingers twitching as he fights the impulse to reach out and grasp Eren's hand in his. Wanting to steady him. Wanting to give him something else to scratch at if that's what he needs to do. (Better Reiner's hand than Eren's, right?)
Then Eren says … what he says.
Reiner stares, not processing it. Slowly, he runs the words through his head again. The leaders can't sense a curse. The magic that pulled them here canceled it out. Canceled their death sentences. Canceled the Curse of Ymir. The leaders can't…
His hand reaches for Eren's, an instinctive move that Reiner doesn't register until he finds Eren's hand clasped in his. Who is steadying who? He can't honestly say.
"Are they sure?" he asks, the words coming out more cautious than celebratory.
Reiner has known his expiration date since he was ten years old; like Eren, he has no idea how to deal with this revelation.
Reiner more or less lets him off the hook with that stupid ass question, luckily for both of them. Eren has no idea how other people work together as a thing, but maybe it's always like this: having the power to hurt someone and choosing not to use it, over and over again, because it's better if you don't do that.
He can't always make that choice. He really is the most vengeful person alive, after all, willing to take on the entire world and burn it to ash not for the death of humanity or some noble but for and old hate the threat against a dozen people that matter to him. Sure, freedom for Eldians, safety for Paradis, but those will always be secondary to what is personal to Eren.
He watches Reiner's face as the other boy absorbs the information, spins it around, decides what to do with it. He knows it's a hard thing to accept; he's not sure sure if he's totally accepted it either. And he's only known about the timer on his life since they reached the basement, what, five years ago or something like that? Reiner's always known.
His hand is right there when Reiner reaches for him, without question or thought, just a reaction that feels as easy as breathing. Funny, when he's half-holding his breath.
"Yeah. They're sure," he says. "The captain and Hange found out, and when I went there, Dawn said she could sense a 'curse' but it isn't something shortening my lifespan."
He's also careful. He wouldn't be very celebratory anyway; he hasn't really reached a point where he's good at emoting things like that. It's hard to imagine in general.
"You know, I never planned for an after," he says. Of course he didn't, and how could he? He has no idea (even now) if the titan curse will end forever. He has no idea what happens after he dies. All that mattered to him was reaching the end, whether that meant killing every single person that wasn't on the island or dying himself or both.
But even if he had somehow been swayed, he was always going to die. Everyone is, sure, but titan shifters only get thirteen years, and Eren has stormed through most of those already. So has Reiner, he knows.
"I didn't really plan on now," he says, an admission he will not elaborate on. He's already told Reiner he didn't expect to live until 20. It's enough.
"I have no idea what to do, but with the amount of weird shit magic can do…I guess I kind of believe it."
It's easier to absorb the news with Eren's hand held in his. Easier to remain balanced with that strong, solid grasp steadying him, hands that could inflict so many wounds choosing instead to cling. It's easier with that mirrored heat telling Reiner that he isn't alone, green eyes embracing him.
It's easier. That doesn't mean it's easy.
Reiner has known when he would die since he was ten years old. But even before that, he knew what becoming a Warrior would entail. He knew the price he would pay, quartering his lifespan for the honor of carrying a Titan in his veins. He did it for his mother, wanting her to have a better life. For his father, not knowing that the man considered him a devil. For himself, desperately wishing to be a worthy son: someone his parents could proudly call their own; someone to whom acceptance, approval, and love would flow without condition.
Well, almost without condition. The only condition was that he died at twenty-three.
Reiner accepted that so long ago, readily sacrificing one piece of himself after another, carving himself up until he doesn't know who the hell Reiner Braun is anymore. To learn that he suddenly has more time…
He squeezes Eren's hand. Focuses on Eren's eyes, Eren's words. Gratitude rises within him—not about the news, but about the fact that he isn't alone in dealing with it.
"Yeah," Reiner agrees. "I didn't plan on much, either."
Not beyond becoming a "hero," a plan ground to dust beneath his father's heel, the remnants washed away by Marcel's blood.
"If we were back home, I'd call it bullshit. Just wishful thinking. But…" His gaze dips, resting somewhere around Eren's collarbone. "… You're right about magic doing weird stuff. This place doesn't care about time. Why would it care about a time-based curse?"
He's quiet for a moment before his eyes return to Eren's. A new light flickers within them, more determination than hope. "Maybe we can steal more time than we thought."
Eren squeezes back automatically, the barest reassurance. He can't promise this thing about them not dying is true. Anyway, they could die at any time, right? Titan shifters are hard to kill, but they're not invincible. But he doesn't have a reason to disbelieve Dawn, either.
He nods his understanding. Reiner planned to take back the Founder, complete his mission, and eventually pass the Armored on to (Gabi?) whoever. That was his plan for most of his life, Eren knows. Eren himself had only gotten as far as kill all titans and then…well, it got worse. But he never planned to live. He wants to. He has always wanted to. But he cannot live and keep his friends safe at the same time. There's no way to do that.
Or there wasn't until they came here.
Turns out that when you plan to die, you have no idea how to live.
"I'd never believe it at home either," he says. "But if we die here, we just come back anyway, right?"
A hint of a smile touches the corners of Reiner's lips, that wonderful, terrifying word making the spark in his eyes burn brighter. Maybe. A world of possibilities in that one word. Possibilities that are suddenly (if only potentially) so much vaster, stretching on for decades instead of a scant three/five more years.
Reiner doesn't know what to do with all that time. But maybe—maybe—they can figure it out together.
"Yeah," he says, returning Eren's squeeze. "Let's not test the dying part, though."
Don't die. Don't die like this. Okay. You stay alive too, Eren.
"I know those … giant flowers"—so fucking ridiculous!—"would bring us back. But we don't know what would happen to ou—"
BZZZZ!
Reiner jerks in surprise, his grip reflexively tightening. A second later, he scowls down at the stupid buzzing disc alerting them that their food is ready.
Eren watches Reiner's mouth move towards smiling. He wonders idly if in that terrible future Reiner also just…forgets how. He was so fucked up in Liberio. They both were.
He doesn't want either of them to ever have to see the end of that future. Even if they did die in a few years, would that be the worst thing? He doesn't think it would be, though he has never in all of his life actually wanted to die. Accepting death and wanting it are not the same thing.
What do you want to be? Alive.
"I don't plan to die," he says, which is — finally — very true. Now that he doesn't have to, he'd much rather just not, thanks!
He's just as startled by the buzzing thing as Reiner is, the way it sort of vibrates itself across the surface of the table (slowly). What the fuck.
"Oh…the food," he says, blinking. He reaches for the disc (how do you turn this off! he has no idea!) and reluctantly stands to go get their food. Reluctant, because it means letting go again.
As far as first encounters with buzzing discs go, it could be worse. One of them could have punched it or thrown it into the street. But the timing is so damned inconvenient that Reiner immediately gains an irrational bias against the stupid things. (How dare it interrupt their conversation!)
He's just as reluctant to relinquish contact as Eren is, squeezing one last time before finally letting go. Their food is waiting, after all. As Eren makes his way over to get it, the hint of a smile on Reiner's face blooms, his thoughts shifting from the risk of death and towards the simple joy of sharing food.
The idea of a full life is still overwhelming. But for right now, they can enjoy the moment, trying new things and finishing it off with some of Eren's homemade cookies—and later, birthday cake.
When Eren returns, Reiner's hand will be right there, ready to renew contact as they share their meal.
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dreamsofwings) wrote2021-07-13 03:17 am
no subject
Maybe someday, Eren will tell him. Maybe someday, Reiner will do the same.
He huffs a laugh at Eren's insistence about the cheeseburger. Eren is right: Reiner does want to try that. He doesn't argue about Eren paying, either, but he has a stipulation.
"All right," he agrees. "But I'll pay for the ice cream cake."
That seems only fair.
Reiner orders a cheeseburger with "everything," figuring he can remove things from the not-a-sandwich if he doesn't like them. (He doubts he'll feel the need to do so.) He also gets the mysterious onion rings, deep-fried chiles, and a blueberry milkshake.
Hopefully, the two of them end up liking milkshakes. Whatever they are.
Once Eren pays, Reiner accepts some weird disc that the cashier explains will "buzz" when their order is ready. (Reiner has no idea what that means, but it should be obvious enough, right?) Then he tugs Eren's hand toward an outdoor table, examining the disc as they make their way to their seats.
"Every time I think I'm caught up on the technology here, someone says something that makes no sense." Reiner shakes his head, gesturing with the disc. "All I can imagine is a buzzing bee."
no subject
Eren does almost argue about the paying thing, opening his mouth to remind Reiner whose birthday it is. But he shuts it again. It's not like money matters to either of them, he's pretty sure, and Reiner made it clear he wanted to celebrate Eren's birthday all these months later.
"...Okay."
Eren has a vague idea that "milkshake" is like "ice cream" from seeing one before but he's never had one. He can't imagine blueberry ice cream though, so that's enticing.
He lets Reiner pull him to the table and slides into a seat, finally (reluctantly) relinquishing his hold on the other boy's hand.
He stares at the disc thing. Buzz? Like a bee? How or why? That's a complete mystery to him too. Why don’t they just call names like normal? Whatever.
"I have no idea what that thing is," he says. "The technology here really is nuts."
no subject
Was he always so greedy for touch? He doesn't know. He's always been physically affectionate, having no reservations about squeezing a friend's shoulder or patting a kid on the head. But this greed—this need—feels like more than that. Something centered on Eren, specifically.
Whatever the case, Reiner feels satisfied once they're touching again, even if it's under the table.
"Yeah, it is," he agrees. "Sometimes, I wonder why they invented certain things."
He gestures at the disc as if to say, Case in point.
Then he folds his hands loosely on the table, his gaze rising to meet Eren's again. Tilting his head to the side, he asks, "You said there was something you wanted to tell me in person, right?"
Not that Reiner remembered that, drunk as he was. He had to reread it once sober.
no subject
He raises an eyebrow. He hadn't actually expected Reiner to remember, but he planned to talk anyway. There's no point in hiding the info that he got from Ellipsa's leaders. It affects them both, after all.
He looks down at his hands resting on the tabletop.
"Yeah. It's...I don’t know if I quite believe it yet but I learned something important. You should know too."
no subject
Of course, as soon as Reiner thinks that, he immediately loses track of Eren's mood. He watches Eren's eyes, trying to gauge if the news is good or bad but coming up empty.
The price he pays for his hubris.
"All right," he says, his voice quieter, serious. "Is it a bad thing?"
Maybe that question will help Eren dig into whatever it is.
no subject
He raises an eyebrow a little.
"You think I'd ruin your birthday with bad news?" he asks. It's an absurd question; they both know he would.
He shakes his head though.
"No, it's…it's good. I just don't know how to deal with it."
His hands flex against the table and he picks at the edge of his thumb, nervous energy seeking an outlet. It's not quite violence, but it's still got that hinted edge. He's never been good at directing his inner turmoil into anything that isn't at least a little destructive.
He takes a deep breath and looks up at Reiner again.
"The leaders of this place…they told me they can't sense any curse. That for whatever reason, the magic that brought us here and all, it somehow…cancels out our death sentences."
no subject
But they like this better when they're not angry at each other, right? This nameless, fragile thing that allows them to walk beneath cherry blossoms hand-in-hand? So Reiner keeps his expression restrained, and Eren doesn't throw bad news in his face.
Instead, Eren picks at his thumb, visibly nervous. Reiner's brows pinch together, fingers twitching as he fights the impulse to reach out and grasp Eren's hand in his. Wanting to steady him. Wanting to give him something else to scratch at if that's what he needs to do. (Better Reiner's hand than Eren's, right?)
Then Eren says … what he says.
Reiner stares, not processing it. Slowly, he runs the words through his head again. The leaders can't sense a curse. The magic that pulled them here canceled it out. Canceled their death sentences. Canceled the Curse of Ymir. The leaders can't…
His hand reaches for Eren's, an instinctive move that Reiner doesn't register until he finds Eren's hand clasped in his. Who is steadying who? He can't honestly say.
"Are they sure?" he asks, the words coming out more cautious than celebratory.
Reiner has known his expiration date since he was ten years old; like Eren, he has no idea how to deal with this revelation.
no subject
He can't always make that choice. He really is the most vengeful person alive, after all, willing to take on the entire world and burn it to ash not for the death of humanity or some noble but for and old hate the threat against a dozen people that matter to him. Sure, freedom for Eldians, safety for Paradis, but those will always be secondary to what is personal to Eren.
He watches Reiner's face as the other boy absorbs the information, spins it around, decides what to do with it. He knows it's a hard thing to accept; he's not sure sure if he's totally accepted it either. And he's only known about the timer on his life since they reached the basement, what, five years ago or something like that? Reiner's always known.
His hand is right there when Reiner reaches for him, without question or thought, just a reaction that feels as easy as breathing. Funny, when he's half-holding his breath.
"Yeah. They're sure," he says. "The captain and Hange found out, and when I went there, Dawn said she could sense a 'curse' but it isn't something shortening my lifespan."
He's also careful. He wouldn't be very celebratory anyway; he hasn't really reached a point where he's good at emoting things like that. It's hard to imagine in general.
"You know, I never planned for an after," he says. Of course he didn't, and how could he? He has no idea (even now) if the titan curse will end forever. He has no idea what happens after he dies. All that mattered to him was reaching the end, whether that meant killing every single person that wasn't on the island or dying himself or both.
But even if he had somehow been swayed, he was always going to die. Everyone is, sure, but titan shifters only get thirteen years, and Eren has stormed through most of those already. So has Reiner, he knows.
"I didn't really plan on now," he says, an admission he will not elaborate on. He's already told Reiner he didn't expect to live until 20. It's enough.
"I have no idea what to do, but with the amount of weird shit magic can do…I guess I kind of believe it."
no subject
It's easier. That doesn't mean it's easy.
Reiner has known when he would die since he was ten years old. But even before that, he knew what becoming a Warrior would entail. He knew the price he would pay, quartering his lifespan for the honor of carrying a Titan in his veins. He did it for his mother, wanting her to have a better life. For his father, not knowing that the man considered him a devil. For himself, desperately wishing to be a worthy son: someone his parents could proudly call their own; someone to whom acceptance, approval, and love would flow without condition.
Well, almost without condition. The only condition was that he died at twenty-three.
Reiner accepted that so long ago, readily sacrificing one piece of himself after another, carving himself up until he doesn't know who the hell Reiner Braun is anymore. To learn that he suddenly has more time…
He squeezes Eren's hand. Focuses on Eren's eyes, Eren's words. Gratitude rises within him—not about the news, but about the fact that he isn't alone in dealing with it.
"Yeah," Reiner agrees. "I didn't plan on much, either."
Not beyond becoming a "hero," a plan ground to dust beneath his father's heel, the remnants washed away by Marcel's blood.
"If we were back home, I'd call it bullshit. Just wishful thinking. But…" His gaze dips, resting somewhere around Eren's collarbone. "… You're right about magic doing weird stuff. This place doesn't care about time. Why would it care about a time-based curse?"
He's quiet for a moment before his eyes return to Eren's. A new light flickers within them, more determination than hope. "Maybe we can steal more time than we thought."
no subject
He nods his understanding. Reiner planned to take back the Founder, complete his mission, and eventually pass the Armored on to (Gabi?) whoever. That was his plan for most of his life, Eren knows. Eren himself had only gotten as far as kill all titans and then…well, it got worse. But he never planned to live. He wants to. He has always wanted to. But he cannot live and keep his friends safe at the same time. There's no way to do that.
Or there wasn't until they came here.
Turns out that when you plan to die, you have no idea how to live.
"I'd never believe it at home either," he says. "But if we die here, we just come back anyway, right?"
He squeezes Reiner's hand again tighter.
"Maybe," he says.
Maybe.
no subject
Reiner doesn't know what to do with all that time. But maybe—maybe—they can figure it out together.
"Yeah," he says, returning Eren's squeeze. "Let's not test the dying part, though."
Don't die. Don't die like this.
Okay. You stay alive too, Eren.
"I know those … giant flowers"—so fucking ridiculous!—"would bring us back. But we don't know what would happen to ou—"
BZZZZ!
Reiner jerks in surprise, his grip reflexively tightening. A second later, he scowls down at the stupid buzzing disc alerting them that their food is ready.
we can wrap up here if you like?
He doesn't want either of them to ever have to see the end of that future. Even if they did die in a few years, would that be the worst thing? He doesn't think it would be, though he has never in all of his life actually wanted to die. Accepting death and wanting it are not the same thing.
What do you want to be?
Alive.
"I don't plan to die," he says, which is — finally — very true. Now that he doesn't have to, he'd much rather just not, thanks!
He's just as startled by the buzzing thing as Reiner is, the way it sort of vibrates itself across the surface of the table (slowly). What the fuck.
"Oh…the food," he says, blinking. He reaches for the disc (how do you turn this off! he has no idea!) and reluctantly stands to go get their food. Reluctant, because it means letting go again.
sure!
He's just as reluctant to relinquish contact as Eren is, squeezing one last time before finally letting go. Their food is waiting, after all. As Eren makes his way over to get it, the hint of a smile on Reiner's face blooms, his thoughts shifting from the risk of death and towards the simple joy of sharing food.
The idea of a full life is still overwhelming. But for right now, they can enjoy the moment, trying new things and finishing it off with some of Eren's homemade cookies—and later, birthday cake.
When Eren returns, Reiner's hand will be right there, ready to renew contact as they share their meal.