Just the hint of teeth against Reiner's skin is intoxicating, a threat that should repel him but enraptures him instead. He shuts his eyes, breath hitching as Eren sucks on his skin, a tingle of pain that buzzes with pleasure. He hopes Eren leaves a mark; he hopes that his body doesn't immediately begin repairing itself. It would be better to have a mark, wouldn't it? Something he could look at later to assure himself that this really happened?
Even in the moment, it's hard to believe it's happening. Eren makes another one of those quiet, delectable noises, shivering as Reiner murmurs in his ear. It's adorable, really—a word that Reiner never would have imagined he would associate with Eren. Maybe once upon a time, when they were younger and Eren was desperate to prove himself, seeking Reiner's advice (as if Reiner had any right to give it). Maybe back then, "adorable" would've fit if Reiner had allowed himself to think of such things.
But he didn't think of them. He suppressed everything until he imploded, fault lines fracturing him in two, filling him with jagged edges that never quite align. A soldier, a Warrior, a friend, an enemy. What is he now? What are they, two men with the power of the Titans clutching each other close, teeth grazing each other's necks without biting down, Reiner's hand squeezing Eren's thigh, Eren's fingers dipping just below Reiner's waistband? What is this thing they're doing?
Then Eren asks that question, says the word Marley, drops a bomb between them as though it's nothing. Reiner's rhythm stutters, shock flashing through him, mind briefly going blank. He never mentioned Marley on that island—not to Eren, not to any of them—but somehow, Eren knows.
It should make Reiner stop. He should withdraw, reevaluate, reassess. He should find out what else Eren has discovered, and how, and when.
He should.
But the rest of Eren's question hits just as hard—and as soon as the shock lessens, a hundred fantasies unfurl themselves in Reiner's mind. Eren with them atop Wall Maria, wrists pinned above his head, back arching off the stone. Eren curled up in their tent at night, fingernails clawing Reiner's shoulders, making more of those wonderful sounds. Eren pressed between Reiner and Bertolt's bodies, Bertolt's long fingers trailing down his stomach, Reiner's lips on his neck.
Eren listening to Reiner's explanation of the situation, agreeing to go with them willingly. Eren discovering the truth of the world. Eren pledging his power to Marley so he wouldn't have to die.
I would've been good to you, he wants to say. I would've taken care of you, he wants to believe.
Pointless fantasies. Pipe dreams at best, delusions that Reiner can't entertain again.
(He would've kept Eren bound and gagged atop Wall Maria, and he knows it.)
Eren scrapes his nails along Reiner's scalp, and Reiner doesn't even try to hide the shudder that runs through him, exhaling a harsh breath against Eren's ear that teeters on the edge of a moan. Fuck, he needs to get their pants off—or at least open—but the thought of relinquishing even an inch of space between them is abhorrent.
"Liar," he accuses, trying to recover. Resuming his rhythm, fingers digging into Eren's thigh, sliding toward his ass. His teeth catch Eren's earlobe, giving a nip, almost as if to scold. "You would've ripped my heart out."
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Even in the moment, it's hard to believe it's happening. Eren makes another one of those quiet, delectable noises, shivering as Reiner murmurs in his ear. It's adorable, really—a word that Reiner never would have imagined he would associate with Eren. Maybe once upon a time, when they were younger and Eren was desperate to prove himself, seeking Reiner's advice (as if Reiner had any right to give it). Maybe back then, "adorable" would've fit if Reiner had allowed himself to think of such things.
But he didn't think of them. He suppressed everything until he imploded, fault lines fracturing him in two, filling him with jagged edges that never quite align. A soldier, a Warrior, a friend, an enemy. What is he now? What are they, two men with the power of the Titans clutching each other close, teeth grazing each other's necks without biting down, Reiner's hand squeezing Eren's thigh, Eren's fingers dipping just below Reiner's waistband? What is this thing they're doing?
Then Eren asks that question, says the word Marley, drops a bomb between them as though it's nothing. Reiner's rhythm stutters, shock flashing through him, mind briefly going blank. He never mentioned Marley on that island—not to Eren, not to any of them—but somehow, Eren knows.
It should make Reiner stop. He should withdraw, reevaluate, reassess. He should find out what else Eren has discovered, and how, and when.
He should.
But the rest of Eren's question hits just as hard—and as soon as the shock lessens, a hundred fantasies unfurl themselves in Reiner's mind. Eren with them atop Wall Maria, wrists pinned above his head, back arching off the stone. Eren curled up in their tent at night, fingernails clawing Reiner's shoulders, making more of those wonderful sounds. Eren pressed between Reiner and Bertolt's bodies, Bertolt's long fingers trailing down his stomach, Reiner's lips on his neck.
Eren listening to Reiner's explanation of the situation, agreeing to go with them willingly. Eren discovering the truth of the world. Eren pledging his power to Marley so he wouldn't have to die.
I would've been good to you, he wants to say. I would've taken care of you, he wants to believe.
Pointless fantasies. Pipe dreams at best, delusions that Reiner can't entertain again.
(He would've kept Eren bound and gagged atop Wall Maria, and he knows it.)
Eren scrapes his nails along Reiner's scalp, and Reiner doesn't even try to hide the shudder that runs through him, exhaling a harsh breath against Eren's ear that teeters on the edge of a moan. Fuck, he needs to get their pants off—or at least open—but the thought of relinquishing even an inch of space between them is abhorrent.
"Liar," he accuses, trying to recover. Resuming his rhythm, fingers digging into Eren's thigh, sliding toward his ass. His teeth catch Eren's earlobe, giving a nip, almost as if to scold. "You would've ripped my heart out."
So many meanings to that phrase.