The Road to Hell

by Varazserdo

Summary:

The Rumbling unfolds. Armin and Mikasa prepare to face Eren. In the quiet moments on the way to Odiha, they seek comfort in each other for the last time.

Notes:

Probably the final smut one-shot I'll write instead of working on my long fic. You don't need to read The Vigil to understand this, but if you have read my other fic consider it a cut scene.

The boat lurches and drops, engine chugging and gears grinding, pushing against the surging waves. I gasp awake, adrenaline pumping through my veins and my titan crackling under my skin. I inhale, attempting to banish the useless, bewildering anxiety clawing at my throat, the voice in my head shouting 'run, run, run', and the seething titan growling 'fight, fight, fight'.

“Armin,” Mikasa says, eyes half-open slits in her exhausted face. “Sleep. We’ll be in Odiha in six hours.”

We're in bed, a narrow metal bunk bolted to the hull of the ship. The mattress is hard. Mikasa clings to me, and I return her embrace, closing my eyes and settling into her – the familiar contour of her arms and the comforting scent of her skin under the stink of battle. Our hands are interlaced, palm to palm. Her head rests against my shoulder. I run my thumb over her cheek and wipe the trail of drool off her chin.

“I guess we’re alive, so the plan must have worked.”

“That pompous Marleyan blew up a destroyer. Sacrificed himself to give us the chance to save the world. We got away,” Mikasa says, voice gravelly from sleep.

Plan is a generous description for what transpired in Port Landsend. Beside the bed, three bullets sit at the bottom of a bloody water glass. Metal forceps rest on bloody gauze. A sad incisor and a few splintery bone fragments rest beside the metal instrument. I run my hands over my aching jaw. The shattered bone and ruined teeth have grown back, but everything’s tender.

Mikasa strokes my face. “Don't worry, you're still as pretty as ever.”

She throws her leg over me, and I pull her close. We lie embracing, the cabin pitching back and forth as the ocean heaves around us.

I wake again, my arm numb under Mikasa's weight. The storm has passed, and the waters are calm. The boat chugs onwards, towards Odiha and what's likely to be our gruesome deaths. I attempt to extract myself from the bunk and Mikasa sits up, bleary-eyed but tense and ready to fight.

“Hey, is there water here?” I say, noticing the toilet and shower cubicle attached to the cabin for the first time.

Mikasa rubs her eyes. “Yeah, I think so. Let's test it out.”

She strips off her filthy clothes, the ODM belts clattering to the floor, and strides towards the shower, all long legs and lean muscles. I discard my own bloody clothes and follow her. She's already standing under the spray, rivulets of lukewarm water running between her breasts and down the rusted drain in the floor. Fumbling, I find a soap dispenser attached to the wall. The Hizuruens think of everything. Liquid soap runs into my hand, foaming in the weak spray.

I wash myself quickly. Dried blood and rank sweat flow away. Rubbing the soap into a lather, I reach for her, lathering it onto her skin. She smiles, and my fingers trail between her breasts, ghost over her pert nipples and along the hard muscles of her stomach, her powerful thighs and the soft vee of dark hair between them. She pulls me close, chest to chest, takes my bottom lip between her teeth and tugs. Pain mixes with pleasure, and my cock stirs to life.

“Armin,” she murmurs against my neck. “I don't want to die. I don't want to kill Eren. Make me forget what we have to do.”

Our foreheads are touching. Stroking between her legs, I find the hard, insistent nub of her clit and draw a teasing circle over it. I lean in, kissing her softly. She's slick and wet against my fingertips, and I slip inside her, thumb stroking her clit and index finger crooked inside until she's gasping into my mouth.

Abruptly, the water ebbs to a trickle and stops with a groaning creak.

I kneel in the shower, knees on the gritty tile, and suckle her breast, revelling in the texture of her nipple against the tip of my tongue. Kissing along her ribcage, I spread her legs wide, a hand on each thigh, and lick the cleft of her labia. Her clit’s practically throbbing under my tongue, her cunt swollen and red with want. She's moaning obscenely, and I wonder if the others can hear us. It's nothing they don't know, although perhaps it's indelicate to fuck here at the end of the world.

I don't care. There’s only now, this moment stretching out into an eternal present. The future is unknown and unwritten. I cannot divine it. Although I accept the dreadful burden of killing my dearest friend, the boy I love with all my heart, I cannot fathom that it will come to pass. Or else I will die at his hand.

At this moment Eren is traversing the continent, bringing death to enemies and innocents alike. Truthfully, he must know it's mostly innocents he’s killing – little babies, terrified children, men and women without the power or the inclination to do us harm. I banish these thoughts and direct my attention to the woman in front of me.

Mikasa leans against the wall, legs spread wide open, mouth slack with pleasure. I flick my tongue over her again and again until my newly healed jaw aches, and she convulses, shuddering into orgasm.

I stand. She's still coming when I push into her. Our thighs are wet, skin damp. She's so tight around me, I don't move, just settle inside her. We're the same height, and she only has to tilt her head to kiss me, tongue thrusting roughly into my sore mouth, exploring all my glorious new teeth.

“Armin,” she pants. “Armin, fuck me. Hard. I want it to hurt.”

A frisson of heady, incandescent arousal courses through me; my cock stiffens until it feels impossibly hard inside her. I thrust, slowly at first, and Mikasa growls in annoyance, snapping our hips together. Then I let loose, thrusting into her with wet, slapping sounds, holding her hips, biting her neck and her beautiful breasts.

“Ahh,” she cries, releasing something held inside her.

I come with a sudden, powerful rush of pleasure.

We stand in the damp, water trickling off our bodies and onto the floor. We both know that, whatever comes next, this was the last time we’ll hold each other like this.

“Mikasa," I grope for words to categorise what she is to me. I want to transmit the emotions directly into her brain, but the only tool I have is speech, imprecise and faltering. “Thank you for being my friend.” My voice breaks. I swallow. I won't cry now. “I love you.”

“But you love him more.”

“So do you.”

“Let's bring him home.”

She kisses me again, lips wet and soft. My spent cock slips from her body.

Somewhere on the ship, a klaxon is blaring.

“They’ve sighted Odiha,” Mikasa explains.