Archive of Our Own

Sometimes, Eren Yeager interrupts his thoughts. A flash of his haunting eyes, a glimpse of sleek brown hair, smooth pale skin. Then the images are gone, like a trick of the light, leaving only pitch black nothingness.

Then Reiner feels a craving. A simmering in his groin, heated by memories of handjobs fumbled under skin-tight uniforms. He always gives in to the cravings. A quick tug at his leaking member and he’ll come in seconds. If he has the time, he’ll hold off and stalk to the nearest seedy bar to hook-up with whoever’s willing. He’s not proud of it, but he needs it. Eren still occupies too much space in his head. Even though it’s been years since they touched, even though an ocean stretches between them.

This time, when Eren’s haunting eyes crawl into his head, he’s laying down in his bed and staring at a leak in his ceiling. Marley might consider him an honorary Marleyan, but they still tossed him into an apartment with soft walls and flimsy plumbing. He takes in the dripping from above him, spreading in a dark circular stain. Then he closes his eyes and sees an impossible mix of green-blue, long lashes, and dark pupils.

His gut wrenches. Yeah, there was that one time. Eren had been training close to the barracks when Reiner found him. One thing led to another, and he’d kneeled in between his legs and taken him into his mouth.

He opens his eyes to the steadily dripping leak, his cock pulsing. He shouldn’t venture outside, not when the sky is black, the night biting cold, but…

Fuck it, why not? He’s horny and frustrated and he knows his hand won’t help— not when he’s this tense.

At the bottom of his dresser he finds a pair of thick glasses, a white armband, and an identification card forged with a fake name. Fredrick Schulz. Another faceless Eldian working at a weapons factory for scraps, stalking off to the nearest bar for a quick escape from reality. Not a particularly captivating name or backstory or personality. Perfect for escaping unwanted attention.

He slides the glasses onto his nose and fits the armband over his tan trench coat and disappears into the night.

Reiner takes the long way to the closest bar, soaking in the chilly air with long strides. The streets on this route are wild and unguarded. Marley can’t have eyes everywhere, and the tents full of stick-thin children and stalls of foul-smelling goods prove they often look in the other direction. No one cares about a poor Eldian. Not when they lose their house, their income, their entire family. All the suffering used to give Reiner a sick pain in his stomach, but now he strolls past unfeeling.

He can’t tell if he arrives at the shabby bar in fifteen minutes or sixty. All that matters is that he hears the steady hum of drunken voices inside. Familiar, drunken freedom. The alcohol will be shit (diluted with tap water), and the wood floors will stick to his shoes (too many spilled drinks and bodily fluids), but at least he’ll find someone. He always finds someone.

When he walks inside, the air tastes like stale beer. He dodges loud men punching each other in the arm, half-dressed women sitting in sturdy laps, lonely patrons nursing a shallow glass of whiskey. Only the last category of people is important for his purposes. Reiner looks around and tries to spot any thinner men with dark brown hair. Preferably with a deeper voice, and if he’s lucky, eyes the color of a churning sea.

But there’s nothing. He bites his cheek and settles into an isolated barstool, flagging down a bartender and ordering his first round. The alcohol tastes more bitter today, he notices. Enough to get him drunk. And since no one here meets his standards, he might as well get intoxicated enough to forget the person he really wants.

He drinks until his movements are loose and his head is warm. The alcohol is cheap, and his wallet is heavy, and he feels all too desperate. He doesn’t want to stroll back into the night without a willing body fucking him hard and rough. He takes in another mouthful of brown liquor and hisses out from his teeth. A hand at his breast and another palming at his ass like he’s some two-dollar whore— that’s what he needs. Another drink and he descends further into his alcohol-induced haze, his other hand gripping the counter with blunt desire. Anything to quench the heat scorching him alive from the inside. He’ll take anything, anyone.

He pushes his chunky glasses up his nose and looks over the bar once more. A guy two seats over with ragged brown hair meets his gaze, but he ducks his head after a few moments. Maybe. There’s an older man with red spots dotting his face who stares back eagerly. After four more drinks, sure. Another guy struggling to grow a dark mustache and goatee lingers in a dark corner, but Reiner can’t get a good look at his face, so he takes in another swig of liquor. Useless.

After a few more minutes of excessive drinking, his bladder catches up to him. Luckily the bathroom is right behind him, tucked into an even darker corner of the dim-lit bar. He sizes up the room again, shrugs at his lack of suitable options, and stumbles out of his barstool.

“Where are you going, Fredrick?”

Ice-cold dread floods his veins. That voice. The tone is flat and deep and so familiar it makes him ache all over. He knows that roughness, the slight edge to his speech that seeps through, always paired so well with his indecipherable eyes.

Reiner steadies himself at the edge of the bar and finds that his hand is slick with sweat. The speaker is behind him, hovering parallel to his body, he can sense it without turning his head to check. But it won’t be the person he needs. It never is, even though every prickle across his body is telling him otherwise. He breathes in, swallows, and tries to exhibit patience as he shifts his body and turns to face—

“No.” His voice cracks. “No. Please, no.”

He can only endure seconds of a haunting green-blue eye before he’s ducking his head forward and staring into the ground, at a single leg.

“Look at me.”

Reiner ignores him. “You aren’t… no. How… how are you…?”

“I wanted to find you.” Eren says.

“You… you wanted to…” Reiner swallows. “How did you find me here?”

“It was easy. You’re not very hidden. You should really watch who you trust, who you spend time with.”

Reiner opens his mouth, the question “Who?” almost leaving his lips, but he clamps his teeth together. Assigning blame won’t solve the more pressing issue directly in front of him. Eren. Clad in a tan trench coat and hobbling on a single crutch. His biggest priority now is staying calm. Not making any intoxicated mistakes. Staying alive.

“You found me.”

“Yeah. I found you. And now we’re alone, in the middle of this shitty bar, together.”

They’re not alone. Dozens of people are chattering at the bar, engrossed in meaningless conversations, privy to their current discussion if they simply stand too close. But acknowledging the crowd feels risky, like Eren might decide to take him somewhere more secluded. So Reiner nods.

“Are you here to kill me?”

“No. No, of course not. I’m here to talk.”

Reiner laughs. He doesn’t mean to, but it bubbles out of him thanks to the metric ton of alcohol in his system. “You want to talk?”

And then he makes the foolish mistake of looking up from the floor.

Eren’s face is more intense and harmonious and breathtaking than he remembered, all the way from his prominent Adam’s apple to the sharp angle of his eyebrows. His hair is long now, and loose all the way to his shoulders. Reiner takes just one look at his familiar eye, the deep blue clashing with stark green, before he’s forced to glance away. Thank God Eren’s other eye is hidden behind a white bandage. If he had stared at both eyes for too long in this state, he wouldn’t have maintained his dignity very long.

“Either we talk here, or I take you somewhere more private. Your choice.” Eren shrugs.

Reiner blinks at him. “Where?”

“Somewhere hidden. Secure. Ah, your face… Reiner. I know that look, like you can’t decide where your loyalties lie… I didn’t think it would still work on me, but then you have a few drinks, and then you start thinking about the past, about what happened in those cadet days…”

So Eren was thinking about it too— all the times they’d stripped each other and fumbled around like stupid kids. Now that the thought is mutual and established, Reiner feels a heat spreading across his body. Those past times hadn’t been perfect, but they’d been real. A reminder that he could touch and feel and think as a person, not a warrior or a scout. A brief moment where he could be human.

But things are different now, and he can’t be pieced together.

“Don’t talk about that.” Reiner pleads. “We’ve been through enough.”

“No. I’ll talk about everything I want to, and you’ll listen.” Eren snaps, and a hint of familiar rage slips through his cool composure. “You can’t rush this.”

Reiner stays silent.

“If you’re not feeling talkative here, then we’ll find somewhere else. I’ll make the choice for you.”

“Here. We should talk here.” Reiner needs the loud voices and the pairs of wandering eyes near them, holding him accountable. If he was alone with Eren, head spinning and limbs heated with alcohol, then…

Eren nods and smiles. His lips are soft and pale against his skin, feminine in their shape. Reiner still dreamed of kissing them.

He clears his throat. “Go ahead then. Speak.”

“Let’s sit somewhere first, yeah? Away from this crowd.”

Reiner hums his agreement from the back of his throat. He follows Eren as he shuffles to the emptiest part of the bar— a shadowy corner occupied by a crooked table and two chairs. They sit across from each other and Reiner can’t stop looking at his bandaged face. The defined edge of his jaw, the sparse facial hair above and below his lips, the slim curve of his nose. Eren looks like his younger self, but he also looks like a stranger.

Eren regards him too. “I’m sure coming back home wasn’t easy.”

Reiner sucks in air through his teeth. “No. It wasn’t.”

“Easier than killing thousands of innocent people?”

Reiner’s hands and heart clench.

“We’ve both had our share of hardships, Reiner. You’re like everyone else in this world. Suffering and struggling under circumstances you can’t control. You were given a mission, and you accomplished it by slaughtering my home.”

These are practiced words, Reiner realizes. He swallows and stares into Eren’s grim, resigned expression. It feels like staring into a portrait of himself from years and years ago.

“Do you really think all the fighting will end if you kill me and take the founding titan?” Eren pauses a few seconds. “You know as well as I do that you have no control over your fate. Marley writes the beginning, middle, and end of your story. And yet, you keep moving forward.”

Reiner slips further into his chair. “I just want it to stop. All of it.”

Eren’s lips curl up. “I want that too.”

Reiner swallows. He doesn’t recognize the person sitting in front of him. Eren had always been angry and determined, even animalistically violent at times, but now he feels like a cold and distant monster.

“How long have you been following me?” Reiner asks.

“A few weeks.”

Weeks? Eren had been observing him for weeks undetected? Reiner feels red hot shame flood his face.

“Ha! That’s cute.” Eren slaps the table with both palms and points between his eyes. “I forgot that your ears turn red when you’re embarrassed.”

His reaction is so genuine that Reiner’s face burns up in flames. Now his entire face must be bright crimson.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much. I’ve seen you wearing practically nothing, I don’t care about a red face.”

Reiner is prepared to sink into the sticky bar floor right there and never return, but Eren is right. They’d done a lot more than blush as dumb teens. There’d been times where Eren would cry for his cock, and Reiner would fuck and worship and curse him in the same breath. It was always too good, and soon he’d become too attached to Eren’s face, to the way he smiled and laughed. Even though he was a threat to the mission. A threat to them all.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eren.” Reiner’s voice is hoarse. “I never apologized back then, but I shouldn’t have pursued you. I regret it. You just confused me so much… this is just… this is all so confusing...”

Something brushes against his knee. “Do I still confuse you?”

Reiner feels heat in Eren’s touch, every swipe of his thumb over his pants is scorching. He tears his knee away and struggles to breathe. Even that little bit of connection was too much, jolting all the way up his spine, making all of his blood rush from his brain to his cock.

He stares at Eren, horrified. “Why did you touch me?”

“C’mon, Reiner. You’re intelligent enough to know what’s going on by now. I’m trying to sleep with you one last time.”

Reiner blinks. “No. You’re not.”

“I am. I still think about you. When I sleep at night, sometimes I’ll come just because I dreamt about you. It’s the smaller details I remember the most, like your skin. It always felt too hot. And I can still remember the way you looked at me. When we were fucking, we worked so well together. You almost seemed happy.”

Anticipation is heavy in Reiner’s gut. “That’s why… that’s why you’re here right now…”

“Exactly. I waited patiently for the best moment to find you alone so I could have sex with you.” Eren says. No hesitation, no mocking smiles.

He’s serious.

Reiner tries to retain his dignity. He pushes his fake glasses up his nose. Looks side to side, checking to see there’s no one near them. Inhales and exhales shakily.

He knows what’s good for him, and it’s clashing with his blunt desire. His head is spinning. All of the days he’d touch himself thinking of Eren, the memories he could never wring out from his brain, the far-fetched fantasies of sleeping with each other one final time, and now… that desire is mutual.

Across the table, Eren’s eye traces across his chest and pierces his skin, settling there and burning him up from the inside. Eren had always enjoyed playing with his tits, licking his bright pink buds, leering at the soft mounds of flesh. Reiner shifts his feet, feeling his belt strain against his growing length.

“Explain.” Reiner whispers. “Explain how… how this works. If we have sex with each other, how do I know you won’t kill me after?”

“You don’t.”

At least he’s telling the truth. Eren smiles, and looks terrifying under the thick shadows of their dim corner of the bar. Terrifying and tempting.

“You don’t have to think about it so hard, Reiner. Let’s just fuck each other.”

“I… I just…”

“You’re going to deny yourself this gift? The last time we’ll get the chance to touch each other, and you’re going to refuse, after everything we’ve been through?”

“I… I need to… to use the bathroom.”

Reiner stands up abruptly and doesn’t look back as he weaves between empty tables and chairs. He’s drunk enough to be somewhat functional, but not enough to handle this decision. And he still has to piss.

When he finally stumbles into the single-stall bathroom and shoves the door closed, he finds himself in the mirror. Deep, sunken-in amber eyes. Gaunt edges on his face. A slim, perpetually downturned mouth. Maybe sleeping with Eren would be worth it, just to inject some life back into him.

He considers that thought as he pisses, then washes his hands, then stares at himself in the mirror again. He’s calmer without Eren’s eye raking over his body and he’s grateful he has the chance to breathe, but part of him still craves the heat in his gaze.

Two harsh knocks. His eyes fly to the heavy oak door behind him. At first, he doesn’t budge, too afraid of what will meet him on the other side. But he knows waiting will only make Eren more irritated. So Reiner turns around, takes a final breath, and turns the knob.

Eren’s form is hunched and angry. A pit grows in the middle of Reiner’s stomach, and he takes a step back.

“You’re acting like a coward, Reiner.”

Eren hobbles forward. Reiner tries to take another step back, but his foot stays glued to the floor. Balanced. He needs to be balanced on two feet, steady on both legs, calm under the pressure of a green-blue eye. Eren shuffles forward another step, and lets the door float closed behind him. Blocking the only exit.

“You’re so scared of me now.” Eren cocks his head to the side. “Why?”

“Because… you’re different.” Reiner swallows, feeling exposed by the bright lights and dead quiet inside the bathroom. “When we were kids, when I knew you… you were softer.”

“That’s right. I’m different now. I don’t have an obligation to anyone or anything. I’m free to do whatever I want.”

Eren inches closer, while Reiner stays rooted in place.

“Eren… This isn’t… I don’t understand…”

“Having sex in a bathroom is so dirty. You should take me home so I can fuck you on your bed.”

Even his language is different— direct to the point of apathy. Explicit and honest. Reiner takes a few deep breaths, trying to keep himself fixed to the floor, until Eren’s cold fingers wrap securely around his jaw.

He buckles to his knees instantly. All of the barriers built up inside of him melt to nothing. He looks up at Eren, long brown hair framing his gorgeous, smug face. The fingers at his jaw tighten.

“You’re so pretty when you obey, Reiner.”

A flash of heat racks his body. Eren bends over (as much as possible while teetering on one leg) and wipes a thumb across his chin. He’s close, so close Reiner can see the red glow on his cheeks and the wet sheen on his lips, he’s moving closer, and then Reiner is craning his head to meet him, and soon they’re kissing with a desperate, violent hunger that can’t be tempered.

It’s all the elements of their old flings with none of the timidness. They move their mouths the same, but there’s no nervous laughter punctuating their kiss. No gentle touches to keep them grounded. Eren’s hand is a heavy weight, and he kisses Reiner brutally.

Eventually Eren pulls away, straightens up, and leans against the door behind him. Reiner whines. The assault on his mouth had felt good. Too good. His brain is fogging up like humid glass. He doesn’t have the strength to remain clear and conscious, not when Eren is using him so well.

“Why don’t you take me back to yours, Reiner?”

Heat torches Reiner’s insides. He opens his mouth to speak, but all of his words slip through his head like loose sand. Yes. No. You’re deeply troubled, and this is a horrible idea, and yet…

Reiner just nods. He doesn’t trust his voice.

A short while later, he’s guiding Eren through the same route he’d traversed an hour ago. The streets are dirty and desolate, with people sheltered under stained canvases and huddled into thin blankets. Reiner decides to look back at Eren halfway through the trek, and sees a green-blue eye only fixated on him. He shudders.

Was there another choice? Even if he made a different decision, it somehow feels like he would always end up here, leading Eren to his bed. It’d been too long and he’d thought about him too much.

Behind him, Eren clears his throat. “Did you have sex with other people?”

“…Yes. Sometimes.”

“What were they like?”

Replacements for you. Men that managed to have the same hair and nose, but never the same eyes. That’s why their eyes would always be closed, every time, without fail. Nothing. They were nothing. Nothing like you.

“Nothing.” Reiner mutters the word that keeps looping in his head. “They didn’t mean anything.”

Eren lets out an assertive hum, then falls silent.

Reiner recognizes the signs of his apartment from far away— the shoddy square windows, the weather-beaten brick, the crumbling stone staircase. He pauses at the half-hinged front door and turns to Eren.

“This is my place. I’m sure you knew that already but, I… ah…”

“I won’t tell anyone about it, if you insist. It’s not like it’ll matter anyway.”

Reiner grits his teeth and chooses to ignore Eren’s cryptic words. He enters his apartment complex, walks a bit down the hall, and unlocks a door to his right.

Inside, his living room and kitchen are dark, lit only by a single floor lamp in a distant corner. He’d been too lazy to design a cozy interior, and the resulting effect is a sparse, worn-looking room. All of his furniture is secondhand and shabby. A man in the unit across the hall owed him a favor, which gave him the patched green couch and the scuffed wood coffee table. His bookshelf is a scuffed gift from his mother. Only one purchased table and chair stand next to his disorganized kitchen. There’s dishes piled up in the kitchen that he can’t defend, but at least the floors are clean.

Eren walks around the space at his slow, limping speed. “This place looks like yours.”

Reiner tries not to speculate much on what that could mean. “Can I… get you something to drink?”

Eren glides a hand over the array of books on his bookshelf. “No.” His fingers linger near a photo album. “Oh, I’d kill to look through this…”

“Please don’t.”

But the temptation must be too strong— Eren pulls out the thick binder and flips to the first page. “Ha! Look at this.”

Reiner knows the picture— a grainy image of him as a child, wearing trousers that fall past his ankles and a small Marleyan flag. His mother had cleaned and dressed him to attend some useless ceremony. She thought that attending would give him more credibility as a warrior candidate. To no one’s surprise, it ended up having little effect on his evaluations.

Eren thumbs to the next page. The top photo is a picture of him as an infant, the one under is him as a toddler. Pictures were expensive, but his mother justified the cost by calling the memories priceless. Eren turns another page, then another, all pictures Reiner can’t remember, as his face becomes warmer and warmer. Eren chuckles a few more times before he rushes over and takes the photo album from him.

“That’s enough.” Reiner mutters.

Eren’s eye scans him up and down. “You don’t seem that drunk anymore. Do you still feel drunk?”

“Sure.” Reiner is trying to limit their social interactions, to propel them in a more carnal direction, but Eren is relentless in his curiosity. “A little.”

“You’re too impatient. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, Reiner. We can get to know each other a little bit more.”

“If… if you say so…”

“Hm.” Eren’s lips press into a straight line. “You would do anything I say, wouldn’t you?”

“I… can try.”

“Then strip for me.” Eren snatches the photo album from him and places it back on the shelf. There’s no humanity left in his gaze. Only heat.

Reiner swallows. “Wouldn’t it be a good idea to go to my bedroom—”

“No. I want you to do it here. Right now.”

Eren’s expression is lecherous and Reiner knows that he won’t change his mind. So he takes off his glasses first— the centerpiece of his reliable disguise. He tries to be composed, collected. When he sets his glasses down on the nearby coffee table, his hand is shaking.

“Reiner.” Eren purrs. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I— I know that—”

“Then why are you hesitating? I’m not going to wait for you all night.”

Eren is pure, unadulterated lust. Reiner is horrified by the look on his face, but a darker part of him is eager.

“I’ll try to be faster.”

He knows what Eren is interested in, so he turns his attention to his thick trench coat and white button-down. First, he peels off the trench coat, letting the firm material melt to the floor. Then he fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, but his hands are still unsteady, and it’s so damn hard to get his digits to wrap around the flimsy plastic—

“Damn, you’re a mess.” Eren says, and drags himself forward to stand inches from Reiner’s chest. “I guess I’ll have to help you.”

“N-No.” Reiner steps back. Eren has already witnessed enough of his subordination, and being able to undress himself is his last little sliver of freedom.

“Fine. Fucking strip for me, then.”

And Reiner does, beginning at the very top of his collar, all the way down to the last button on his shirt. When the entire upper half of his outfit is pooled at his feet, he finally looks up at Eren.

His one-eyed stare is dark and greedy. “I’m going to ruin you.”

Balancing with a crutch under his right arm, Eren reaches for his bare chest. His hands palm at the mounds of flesh, thumbs catching around the edges of his pale pink nipples. Reiner can only respond with weak moans. Eren had always enjoyed playing with his tits, but now he’s worshiping them. The pad of his thumb circles his pink buds, slow and aching, before he seals the touch with a pinch.

“What if I hurt you?” Eren murmurs. “You’d let me, and I know you’d heal from it.”

“You can hurt me. You can do whatever you want. I’ll listen, I promise.” Reiner whispers, because there’s nothing Eren could do that would make him abandon the hot, dangerous feeling in his gut.

“Good.” Eren pats his shoulder, before leaning in to hover over his lips. “Then take the rest of your clothes off.”

This time, Reiner takes his clothes off with frantic, hurried movements. His pants collect at his feet, followed by his socks, and lastly his briefs. With his naked appearance on full display, thick cock standing proud between his legs, he again looks to Eren.

He’s staring. His eye traces every curve of his body, up and down, for so long that Reiner goes entirely red. Then he grabs his jaw with force.

“Tell me what you want, Reiner.”

“I don’t… I’m not sure…”

“Tell me what you want and say it with conviction, or I won’t do anything to you.”

“What I want…” Reiner echoes, heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Eren’s hands drift to his middle. “Anything. Give me a place where you want to be kissed. A way you like to be touched.” His index finger follows the curve of his hip and dips lower. “How do you want me to fuck you?”

Reiner’s head is heavy with confusion. Without conscious thought, he reaches out to run a hand through Eren’s hair. The strands between his fingers feel like pure silk.

Then the answer strikes him.

“I want to be inside you.”

Eren’s fingers tease his outer thigh. “I don’t think you’re up for it.”

“I’ve fucked you plenty of other times—”

“But that was years ago and I need more now. Will you restrict my breathing if I tell you to? Are you going to hesitate if I tell you to go harder? What if I resist? Will you fuck me until you’re satisfied, even if I’m falling apart on your cock?”

Reiner feels even more exposed and he shivers, goosebumps trailing all over his naked body. Eren’s words had left his mouth, but they didn't sound like him at all. In the past, their flings had been an easy source of relief, with Eren always submitting to his touch, but now…

He realizes that he’s staring blankly at Eren’s face. “Okay.” He says as his remaining sanity dissipates. “Okay, Eren. I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Good.” Eren smiles. “Take me to your bedroom.”

Ordering him around his own home. Staring at him with warmth, even though his voice had been cold as ice. Reiner shivers again at Eren’s predatory behavior, but he still guides him to the next room.

His bedroom looks the exact same as it did two hours ago. All the furniture is dingy and secondhand, but sturdy enough to fulfill its purpose. The metal frame of his bed shakes when he sits down on his mattress. He considers the floor, overlaid with cheap hardwood, before he glances up at a dark circle of dripping water in the ceiling.

To think, two hours ago, he’d been confronted with a hard-on while thinking about Eren. The same person in front of him now, leaning on a single crutch, staring down at him possessively. He tries to imagine if he’d still walk to that seedy bar knowing what he does now, but it’s impossible. Everything about this night feels terrifyingly predestined.

Reiner buries his hands in the sheets under him. Below, his dick is still throbbing. Aching. His stupid desire, always throwing all of his rational thought out the window, making him invite the biggest threat to humanity into his apartment for a few hours of intense pleasure. Stupid. A stupid, enjoyable mistake.

The mattress dips next to him and Reiner feels his hand pried away from the sheets, only to be placed on something warm and smooth. Eren’s cheek.

“You said you’d listen to me, right?”

How can one person be so effortlessly gorgeous? Reiner nods and loses himself in Eren’s flushed skin, his dark lashes.

“Stop getting stuck in your head. If you put that—” He presses a finger to Reiner’s cock, “—inside of me and you’re thinking too much, I’ll know. And I won’t be happy.”

Maybe it’s the shock that jolts through him at Eren’s touch, forefinger deftly tracing every detail of his thick length, but any coherent thought escapes Reiner’s head then and there. A hand grips him next, wrapping tight around his base. He soon realizes he can’t breathe.

“Your cock is huge.” Eren murmurs. “Can I taste it?”

Reiner is losing his mind. He nods frantically, watching as Eren’s supple body curves to hover over his lap. Then, heated lips rest over the head of his cock, and he has to restrain himself from gripping hard into dark brown hair and thrusting up.

Eren takes him into his throat and Reiner cries out.

A haunting blue eye meets his gaze, scanning him as if to say You’re so pathetic. Crying out like a baby just because I’m throating your dick. How will you last a second inside of me?

“I… I won’t… I can’t…” Comes his response, interspersed by shallow breathing.

Eren releases himself from his cock, eye wide and curious. “What’s that?”

“N-nothing—”

“No. Tell me.”

Reiner tries to catch his breath. “I… You’re already driving me… crazy. I don’t know… I don’t know how I’m gonna… last… inside you…”

“You won’t. You’ll stay inside for a few seconds. You’ll try to be rough. Maybe you’ll hit me, but your heart won’t be in it. You’ll have a hand around my throat, but you won’t squeeze hard enough. And you’ll barely move before you come inside me. I know, Reiner. I already know.”

Eren is provoking him on purpose. Reiner knows it, and yet he still feels indignation burning under his skin.

“I can do more… more than that.”

“Really? What about those other people you slept with, did you fuck them hard? I’m not sure you can. It’s a damn shame too. You have such a nice cock, but I doubt you can use it.”

“I can. I will.” Reiner says, trying his best to sound firm.

“I hope you’re right.”

At those words, Eren’s fingers are once again around his cock, stroking him swiftly. An emotion close to stubbornness floods Reiner’s chest and he pushes the hand away. Then he shoves Eren back into the bed, straddling over his thighs.

He works on getting his belt off first. After that’s done he turns to the buttons of his shirt, exposing Eren’s body, toned and sculpted like a work of art. His mouth goes dry. Perfect. He’s fucking perfect.

Strong, harmful hands grip into his ass and thighs. It’s unfair how touchy Eren is, how easily he’s able to make him fall apart. Reiner is almost offended by the deft push of his fingers into his flesh.

“Stop… that…” He begs as Eren’s hands stretch him apart.

“Stop what?”

“Just… Stop touching me…”

That’s when Reiner takes his searching hands and forces them above his head. He manages to flip Eren onto his stomach before he tears off his pants, exposing his backside. Eren finally moans, like Reiner had itched a scratch that was buried deep inside of him. Maybe that itch was scratched for both of them. Reiner looks down at the plump ass under him, mouth watering, cock twitching. He wants to stare at Eren in this position for hours, cataloging all the slopes and curves and marks on his skin, examining the shapely muscles of his back and shoulders. An involuntary whine exits his throat.

“Move.” Eren begs from beneath him, but the word has no effect. Reiner is entranced. Eren’s skin is slightly tanner than his own, sun-kissed even in the deeper crevices of his body. He keeps staring and staring and staring. Unable to move, unwilling to disrupt such a flawless image.

He probably gets a bit too comfortable, because Eren begins to squirm under him. “Stop fucking thinking. Move. Move or I’ll take over. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget how to breathe.”

Reiner continues to straddle him, but he allows his hands to explore his shoulders, his back, his ass. He pays attention to the way Eren shivers when he traces certain areas— like the sides of his waist or the swell of his cheeks. It’s so intimate, so revealing. His hands trail over every square inch of skin and he still can’t get enough.

He pauses as his fingers hover near Eren’s hole. “Please… Eren…”

“Please what?”

“Please let me inside of you.” He clarifies, practically rutting into the back of Eren’s thighs.

“You don’t have to ask.” Eren replies, his haunting eye peering over his shoulder. “You undressed me. You touched me. Now you have to fuck me.”

It’s almost too much freedom. Reiner swallows. “Stay here.”

He extracts himself from Eren and walks to a nightstand beside his bed, where a small drawer holds a plastic bottle of lube. The bottle is nearly empty, almost down to its last few uses. Reiner bites his lip as he remembers all of the Eren lookalikes that had occupied his bed before this moment. Even the thought of those other men makes him sick, because Eren is here, and even with his terrifying demeanor he’s still the person he knew all those years ago. The person who helped him realize that island devils weren’t devils, just people like him. Someone who has tormented his memory and his self-concept and his every waking thought. Eren. It’s always been Eren.

“You’re thinking again.” Eren says from behind him, propped up on his elbows, locks of hair covering most of his face. “Stop thinking. It’ll only make this more complicated.”

Eren’s right. He’s been thinking too much, and it’s hurting his head, because he keeps wondering if this is a mistake. Even though he needs it so badly that he aches everywhere— body and soul.

Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking.

He walks back to the bed mindlessly. Eren is still laying on his belly, allowing him easy access to his hole. Reiner paints his fingers with slick lube. He steadies himself over his backside, takes a deep breath, and pushes his forefinger inside. He pushes until a quarter of his finger is in, then half. Careful. So slow that it seems like he’s hardly moving at all.

“Come on, Reiner. We both know I’m not a virgin.” Eren breathes. “Move faster.”

So he does. Eren sighs with the improvement, burying his head in the sheets under him. He replaces his single finger with two, then three fingers. His movements are quick and choppy, but Eren doesn’t seem to mind. Reiner watches him carefully the whole time, trying to spot any obvious signs of discomfort, but he continues to moan and gasp underneath him.

Until he snaps. “Reiner. Use your cock.”

Reiner’s digits are shoved inside him, all the way to the knuckle. “But I haven’t work you enough—”

“I don’t care. Start using me.”

Reiner takes his fingers out slowly. He holds Eren open by the crevice of his ass and checks that he’s wet and open. Tight. He looks so damn tight. Reiner settles his cock at his entrance, horrified by his own lack of restraint. But he looks incredible. So deep and so tight. Like he’d squeeze you dry without even trying.

Reiner takes a deep breath, running a hand through Eren’s soft hair. “Turn around.”

“Really? I’ve been waiting for you this entire time and you expect me to—”

“Turn around. I want to see your face.”

Eren stays motionless for a moment before he finally shifts onto his back. He’s beautiful. Everything from his green-blue eye to his plump lips to his curved nose. Every part of him manages to evoke a warm feeling in Reiner’s chest, every time without fail.

It’s very unfortunate that this is the last time he’ll ever sleep with him.

“That’s better.” Reiner glances back down at Eren’s spread legs. “I’m… I’m going to…”

“Fuck me?” Eren hooks his legs around Reiner’s waist and digs his fingers into his broad shoulders. “Like I’ve been asking you this whole time?”

Reiner weaves a hand through his long hair. “Yeah. God, yeah. I will.”

His fingers curl into his scalp and he pulls them together in a desperate kiss. There, in the comfort of Eren’s lips, he doesn’t think about the future or the past. Only the feel of Eren’s slick tongue pressing against his own, and the blunt nails digging deep into his flesh.

He pulls back. Eren looks up at him, face red and chest heaving, and dark arousal settles in Reiner’s groin. He needs to be inside of him, more than he’s needed anything in his life.

At first, when he lines himself up with his hole and pushes, his cock barely nudges inside. Then he propels himself forward with more force. Half of his length is sucked in deep, and he gasps.

The feel of being inside Eren is more blissful than he remembered. Warm, tight, but still so pliant. It’s exactly what he needed— a remedy for all the half-formed memories of their past sexual escapades. Even those pale in comparison to this.

He pauses when the majority of his cock is inside of Eren. “You… you’re… okay?”

Eren nods. “Go in deeper.”

Reiner hums a vague assent. He shoves himself forward until he’s buried to the hilt. “Like… this?”

“Good.” Eren’s harsh voice is gone, replaced with a coaxing tone. “Now you can move.”

Reiner breathes for a few moments before he begins to rock back. When he thrusts in again, he whines at the narrow clenching of Eren’s muscles around his cock. He moves at a measured pace. If he goes any faster, he knows he’ll come any second.

“Are you going to hurt me?” Eren asks, noticing his reluctance. “Did you change your mind about hitting me? Choking me?”

Reiner feels his face heat up. Suddenly, their conversation from earlier seems all too relevant.

Eren lays a graceful, forgiving hand on his cheek. “It’s okay. I already knew it would be this way. Just come inside me.”

Reiner kisses him instead. He moves his lips with gentle warmth while his hips drive in and out, slow and shallow. When he surfaces for air, he shoves his forehead against Eren’s and tries to move with more force. Eren lifts his hips up to meet him each time. Reiner can’t help but moan with the rhythmic push and pull of their bodies, colliding together inevitably and irrevocably. How can one person be so attractive, enigmatic, and fucking talented when it comes to this? Eren. God, Eren. It’s always been Eren.

His cock pulses and his vision distorts around the edges. Close. He’s so damn close. Reiner tries to stay in the present— he pushes a thumb against Eren’s throat and grips onto his hair tight with his other hand. But his efforts are useless.

“Look at you.” Eren murmurs. “Trying to be in charge.”

He tries to keep a solid grip around Eren’s neck and scalp, but he’s loose and flailing. “I… I’m…”

“What? You’re gonna come inside me?”

“Yeah…” He whines, before leaning over to taste Eren’s mouth one last time.

And then Reiner comes. Eren holds him close by the shoulders while he does, legs locked around his waist, forcing him as deep as physically possible. He pulls away from their kiss and rests his damp forehead on Eren’s chest, heaving in air.

It was too good. The slow build-up, Eren’s lips pressed hard against his own, the intense rush of pleasure as he came undone. It was better than their previous trysts. It was the best sex he's ever had.

He tries to move from his position, but his joints seem fixed in place, and Eren refuses to loosen his hold. So he looks up, only to find a disappointed face glaring back down at him.

“You didn’t make me come.”

Reiner’s face turns red. “Oh.”

If only Eren wasn’t so attractive from this angle. His wide, angry eye is such a striking shade of green and blue that Reiner shudders.

“So. Make me come.”

Reiner hates that he can feel his mind go numb with the thought. He ducks his head forward, and swallows, and nods.

“Okay, Eren.”