Spit really isn't enough for this, but it doesn't matter right now. Not to Eren, who makes that quiet (disarmingly cute) protest when Reiner's finger withdraws, then pushes himself down onto two. Not to Reiner, who curses as Eren's body squeezes around his fingers, hot and tight and so fucking perfect, he can't imagine asking for anything else.
No, that's a lie. Reiner can imagine asking for more. He can imagine asking for so many things, begging Eren to let him have more, to let him take more, greedy and desperate and drunk on it. Not just on Eren's body, but on Eren, in all his infuriating glory.
Eren's hand on his cock, thumb sliding over the too-sensitive head, Reiner fucking shamelessly into his grip. Eren's skin beneath his teeth, neck bared as though Reiner deserves such trust. Eren's hair tangled around his fingers, opening a whole new world of possibilities. Eren's voice, half-pleading, half-demanding. Eren's hand sliding up his shoulder, smoothing over his nape, holding him close. Eren needing him, if only for a moment.
This embrace will haunt Reiner later. It'll make that nameless something ache deep inside, tearing new holes in his already fractured psyche. But right now, it's perfect.
"I've got you," Reiner whispers, thoughtlessly, recklessly, lips against Eren's ear. He brushes a kiss against the lobe, then relinquishes his hold on Eren's hair. Drops his now-freed hand down, fingers wrapping around Eren's cock without preamble, squeezing it, stroking quickly.
It doesn't occur to Reiner to do anything else. Doesn't occur to him to make Eren finish that sentence, or to deprive Eren of what Reiner knows he needs. His first instinct is the same one that compelled him to reach out a hand and help Eren off the ground.
"Come on," he murmurs, taking care of Eren as best as he can. "Come on."
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No, that's a lie. Reiner can imagine asking for more. He can imagine asking for so many things, begging Eren to let him have more, to let him take more, greedy and desperate and drunk on it. Not just on Eren's body, but on Eren, in all his infuriating glory.
Eren's hand on his cock, thumb sliding over the too-sensitive head, Reiner fucking shamelessly into his grip. Eren's skin beneath his teeth, neck bared as though Reiner deserves such trust. Eren's hair tangled around his fingers, opening a whole new world of possibilities. Eren's voice, half-pleading, half-demanding. Eren's hand sliding up his shoulder, smoothing over his nape, holding him close. Eren needing him, if only for a moment.
This embrace will haunt Reiner later. It'll make that nameless something ache deep inside, tearing new holes in his already fractured psyche. But right now, it's perfect.
"I've got you," Reiner whispers, thoughtlessly, recklessly, lips against Eren's ear. He brushes a kiss against the lobe, then relinquishes his hold on Eren's hair. Drops his now-freed hand down, fingers wrapping around Eren's cock without preamble, squeezing it, stroking quickly.
It doesn't occur to Reiner to do anything else. Doesn't occur to him to make Eren finish that sentence, or to deprive Eren of what Reiner knows he needs. His first instinct is the same one that compelled him to reach out a hand and help Eren off the ground.
"Come on," he murmurs, taking care of Eren as best as he can. "Come on."