Reiner hums, his eyes falling to Eren's lips. That teasing smirk isn't as good as a smile—he has yet to see one of those grace Eren's face in Ellipsa—but it's not bad. Not bad at all. It makes Reiner want to rise to the challenge, an urge to win that easily commingles with his desire for victory. Potentially dangerous in other circumstances, but here? Here, they're on neutral ground. Here, it's just the two of them and a smooth, soft rope.
"I can handle it," he (perhaps foolishly) asserts. "Besides, your mouth will be free."
The implication hangs heavy in the air—that Reiner might tie Eren up and use his mouth to get off. It wouldn't be the first time. And that first time was better than Reiner could've dreamed. He imagined it would feel good for him, fantasizing about the wet heat of Eren's mouth, the threat of teeth, the incredible tightness of Eren's throat. But Reiner never could've anticipated how hard it made Eren.
To think that Eren enjoyed it so much…
His gaze rises to meet Eren's again, his smile having given way to a little smirk of his own. Cocky, even when he knows Eren is at least partially correct: there's no way Reiner won't wind up hard as hell from this. Cocky because he thinks he can win—and he thinks there's a chance that Eren will wind up in the same achingly hard state.
"You want me to start with your arms or legs?" he asks, free hand reaching out to rest on Eren's hip, fingertips toying with fabric.
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"I can handle it," he (perhaps foolishly) asserts. "Besides, your mouth will be free."
The implication hangs heavy in the air—that Reiner might tie Eren up and use his mouth to get off. It wouldn't be the first time. And that first time was better than Reiner could've dreamed. He imagined it would feel good for him, fantasizing about the wet heat of Eren's mouth, the threat of teeth, the incredible tightness of Eren's throat. But Reiner never could've anticipated how hard it made Eren.
To think that Eren enjoyed it so much…
His gaze rises to meet Eren's again, his smile having given way to a little smirk of his own. Cocky, even when he knows Eren is at least partially correct: there's no way Reiner won't wind up hard as hell from this. Cocky because he thinks he can win—and he thinks there's a chance that Eren will wind up in the same achingly hard state.
"You want me to start with your arms or legs?" he asks, free hand reaching out to rest on Eren's hip, fingertips toying with fabric.