Chapter Text
He remembers when the Yeagers moved in. Eight years ago, maybe more.
Zeke was twenty. Eren was nine. Their parents were dead.
Reiner had lived with his mom at the park as long as he could remember, just him and her. The rumbling of the train woke him up every night, shaking the house. He got used to it.
Zeke's little sister. Clingy at his side. Bright eyes. Zeke still had a baby face. No beard. Not yet. Now, Zeke looks old enough to be Eren's dad. Almost. It's not just the beard. Mostly the eye bags. Dark circles.
He's three years older than Eren. Almost four. Old enough to be his older brother, but he already has one. Old enough to be his daddy. Kind of.
He wants to be Eren's daddy.
The Yeagers live around the corner. It takes fifty steps to get there. Less, now that he's older, from his front door to Eren's. Down the porch, along the road, loose dirt and rocks crunching under his feet.
The first time he was inside Eren's place, he knew they'd be having a lot of sex in there.
He was eleven. He didn't know why thought that.
Zeke would kill him. Reiner's seen the shotgun he keeps at their place. And Zeke is tall. Big hands. The glasses are a cover for his mean streak a mile-wide. He's seen him go ice cold, like he's not even there.
Zeke scares him.
Maybe it was the year they were at the high school together. His senior year, Eren was a freshman.
All of them crowding in the gym before the bell rang. Eren in a baggy hoodie. Faded jeans. Backpack slung over his shoulder.
"Yo, Reiner."
A brand-new crop of freshman girls. The senior guys swooped in, snatched them up, one by one.
All he could see was Eren.
"Hey, sexy."
The other senior guys stayed away from Eren. Because he'd already staked his claim, maybe. Either way, it was a good thing. He knows how the senior guys talk about the freshman girls.
That year, he drove Eren to school most mornings, since he couldn't drive yet. After that, Eren got a ride with Armin, or got the bus. Zeke has the car, plus his schedule is always off.
Reiner had a car, even if it didn't always start. It did when Eren was in it. Maybe he's a lucky charm.
That's when it started. Eren, in the passenger seat of his car, leaning over the center console. His lips. His nose was cold.
Now, his mom has the car, and Reiner has his truck. It's good for hauling stuff back for the house. Helping people move. Eren's ridden in the truck, too. His mouth around his cock, hair spread over his lap. Eren gives good head.
Have they ever been friends? He's not sure.
It wasn't just his mom who said it.
There's something wrong with that girl.
Ever since they met the Yeagers. Ever since she talked to Eren. But his mom doesn't like anyone. And she's always on his ass about dumb shit.
Something's not right about her…
When she gets on something, she just won't leave it alone. And her voice rings in this head afterward, over and over.
She's trashy.
It's so sad.
Reiner grits his teeth.
Shut up.
Shut up.
He doesn't say this to his mom, though. He doesn't say anything, because he's all she's got.
You need to find a nice girl, she always said.
He doesn't tell her about Historia. In the back of his car, after the regional qualifier his junior year, right before they went on to state. Her cheer skirt was still on. The way she moaned as he kissed her neck, the noise she made when he put it in. He felt something snap. She was so tight.
He didn't think she was a virgin before then. Now, he's not sure.
After that, she wouldn't look at him. Not the Monday after, or all week at school.
He didn't tell anyone, but he heard the whispers in the hall. What they were saying about him.
Reiner Braun?
Heard he's got a big dick.
All week, into the next. Part of him wishes he'd never done it.
Manwhore.
He can't wait to graduate.
Trash.
Nice girls don't like him. And he doesn't like them, either.
He graduated, but Eren was like coming home to.
Sometimes Eren comes over, or he goes over there. After school, after work, in the evenings. If Eren's not with someone else, or he's bored.
Eren doesn't like being alone.
That night, they were at Eren's place. Zeke won't be home for a few hours. That's what Eren said, anyway.
They're on the ratty couch, TV on, lights out. His arm around Eren. Eren dozing on his shoulder, drooling a little.
If they get caught, it's fine. They're not doing anything.
A sound flickers on the TV, and Eren stirs. Blue and white light on his face.
"Baby girl," he rumbles, pressing his lips to Eren's hair. He doesn't know why he said it. It doesn't sound like him. Or maybe it does.
He wants Eren to be his baby. His girl.
"'m not a girl," Eren mumbles, half-awake.
Reiner tips his chin up, kisses him. He tastes like sleep.
Not a girl.
Nothing more had to be said.
Eren wore a black dress to winter formal. Halfway through the night, Eren came toward him on the dance floor, satin slipping into his hands as he grinded on the front of his slacks. Eren's head dropped back on his shoulder, neck exposed. He nuzzled him, Eren's hips moving in a slow circle, just off beat, bass pounding in his skull. The school had hired a DJ.
Reiner held his waist, hands sliding up. Eren wasn't wearing a bra.
He left his date, and Reiner left his, and he and Eren made out in the boys bathroom, his leg hitched around his waist, and then left the dance early in Reiner's car.
His mom was working a double shift, so they went to his place. It was quiet. Eren's eyes glittered in the dark as his face got closer.
Earlier, when they were still on the dance floor, Eren's bony ass pressed to his dick, he caught one of the chaperones staring. The school principal.
PDA is against the rules. They're definitely not supposed to dance dirty at formals. First was a warning. Then getting kicked out. People have gotten the boot for a lot less.
Eren keeps grinding on him as the principal watches. Arms crossed over his chest. Squinting. He's a short, balding fucker. Reiner knows he could lay him out, if he had to.
what's my favorite word?
He's still watching.
Bitch.
Reiner locked eyes with him as he mouthed the side of Eren's neck, hand spread over his stomach. Eren's fingers curled, gripping his hair at the back of his head.
The song playing was the uncensored version.
still know they gotta fuck.
Everyone cheered. The principal looked away.
Eren is wearing a thong under his dress. Reiner slides his thumbs under the straps, over the sharp juts of his hipbones.
His pussy is already wet.
There, on his back on the couch, dress hiked up around his hips, fabric spilling to the floor, strappy shoes still on. Open-toed, even though it's winter. Legs spread.
I'm not the only one who thinks that, his mom says.
Who else? Reiner asks her, but she never has a great answer.
I was talking to…
It's always vague. Always the same.
Not a girl you should be spending your time with.
Eren's not a girl. Not quite a guy. Both, maybe.
Eren's not a nice girl. But Reiner's not a nice guy, either. And one of these days, he'll see his dad again.
If he has a girl, that'll be good. Even if it's not a nice girl.
His alarm goes off.
It's cold. He rolls over.
The snooze goes off, loud in his ear.
He rolls over again.
He's got to get up. So he can go to work. But more important, so he can get Eren up, so he can get to school on time. And they'll probably fuck.
He dreamed about it again. Senior year. Him and Eren sneaking off after football games. Still sweaty from his uniform, the cold denim of Eren's jeans. Eren straddling him in the driver seat as he pulled his hoodie over his head, taking his shirt and bra with it. Tits in his face. Hips rolling over his cock.
Any time another guy started sniffing around Eren, he makes a point to trail his fingers across Eren's lower back when he passes him in the hall, grabs him by the waist until he's pressed against him. Eren's lips on his, cigarette smoke on his breath.
Sexy girl.
He's not going to worry until he runs into a guy bigger than him. It might happen, someday. Not yet. He figures when it happens, he'll deal with it then.
Freezing air and heavy smoke. The bonfire after the pep rally. Eren was cold, so he pulled him to his chest, breathing in a piece of ash from his hair.
Flames crackling in the night sky, heat at his back. Eren huddled in his letter jacket, like a baby bird.
He doesn't remember much from that year. Not since…
Eren, legs drawn up, socks on, eyelashes fanned on his cheeks. Arms around his neck.
Zeke should have killed him by now. He'd kill him, without even blinking.
Sometimes, he pulls out before he comes, even when he has a condom on. Doesn't want to risk it.
Zeke would chop him up and bury him somewhere, with the saw and shovel he keeps outside. His mom would never find him.
The chill between his belt buckle and his shirt hem makes him horny. Cold air at the top of his ass crack makes him think of fucking, pants down just enough. Standing up, strained, his cock the only part of him that's warm. Finishing quick, so they wouldn't get caught.
Cold denim, cold rivets of Eren's belt as it clinked, hanging open. Eren's hoodie pushed up, hands warm against Eren's ribcage. His skin was cold, teeth chattering. They were outside, against the wall behind the high school, by the soccer field.
Maybe he's horny because he's making the walk to Eren's trailer. Muscle memory. He's trained his dick to get hard without even knowing it.
The inside of the trailer is cold. Heat must have kicked off. He'll check it next time, when he has more than twenty minutes. Turn it back on, on his way out the door. The truck will be warmed up just about the time he gets to work.
It's quiet, floor shifting and creaking under his feet with each step.
Eren is burrowed in bed, a lump under a mountain of blankets. He sits at the edge of the bed in his jeans that need a wash. Eren doesn't mind.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Eren grunts.
He pats the mound where Eren's head is. Either his head, or his ass. He can't tell. Eren doesn't move.
"You gonna get up for me?"
Another grunt. The lump finally shifts.
"'S cold."
Eren hates being cold. Reiner cracks a smile.
"Yeah."
He'll warm him up.
His mom works at the hospital, same as Zeke. She's been a nurse since before Reiner was born, before his dad left. Zeke was pre-med, then dropped out when their parents died, so he could take care of Eren full time. Somewhere in there, Zeke got EMS certified. That's why he's always so ragged. And why he's not here to get Eren up and going in the morning.
Some weeks, his mom's schedule was all the place. And so was Zeke's, so they could show up anytime, either at the Yeagers' place or his. He worries about Zeke coming home during it, even in the morning. He could try to fit through the window in Eren's room, drop out the back. But he's too big, and everyone would see. There's nowhere to run.
No place felt completely safe. But he doesn't care. Not when he's eye-rolling deep in Eren's warm cunt.
Eren whimpers. He still likes being called a good girl.
Those moments right after they both come, he pictures it. Him and Eren being together. Dating. Getting engaged. Him proposing to Eren.
If he pictures it, getting married, having a kid, maybe more than one, it's always with Eren. Definitely more than one, with the way they'd go at it. A bunch of tiny kids, blond and dark-haired. Bright eyes, like Eren's. Eren is the one he sees there, every time.
They'd move to the other side of town. Or out of town. Out of state, ideally, away from his mom.
He's not sure when he first thought about it. It's just always been there.
Eren is tall. Long limbs. Soft skin. Small tits.
You're better than that, his mom always said.
He comes by the next morning, same time. Early enough that he won't be late, and neither will Eren. Eren rouses a little faster this time. In the warm center of Eren's bed, surrounded by blankets, he fucks him slow.
"Feels good," Eren murmurs.
Eren's just so sweet.
Outside, he lights a cigarette, handing the last one from his pack to Eren just as Armin pulls up. Eren puts the cigarette behind his ear and climbs into the car, not looking back. Armin puts the car in gear and pulls out onto the street.
Eren'll get to class just in time, and he'll get to work.
It's colder when he gets back, already dark. The pipes freeze every year, even when he tries to get ahead of it. He needs to winterize the trailer. Check the water heater and the furnace. Some days, the heater kicks off, then won't turn back on, and he comes home to burst pipes.
He does it for the neighbors, too. Including the Yeagers.
He takes the truck across town to pick up supplies, then stops at the gas station for cigarettes and condoms.
If he knocks up Zeke's sister, who's still in high school, Zeke will kill him.
He smokes a cigarette outside, legs cold under his jeans. His back tooth is still bothering him. It's flaring up now that it's cold again. One of these days, he'll just get it pulled.
He pulls on the Yeagers' door. It's open. His boots scrape the mat, and he stops. Listens.
Shuffling. Probably Eren moving around.
"Reiner."
He jumps. Zeke is standing in the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel.
"Hey, Zeke."
Fuck. Zeke knows he's sniffing around. At least he's not sitting there, cleaning the gun.
"You want a beer?" Zeke asks him.
A beer. No way. He's going to poison him. Plus, he's not staying any longer than he has to.
"I'm good."
Zeke's eyebrows raise.
"You should have one."
Zeke cracks open two beers, moving toward the couch. He must be off today. Or between shifts. He looks tired.
He's bigger than Zeke, now. Finally. Younger. Stronger.
"Have a seat." Zeke offers the beer to him.
Shit.
He has a tube of caulk in his hand. Thank God. At least it looks like he came over for something, besides Eren. He sinks down on the couch, taking the can.
"Cold already, for this time of year," Zeke says. "Winter's going to be brutal."
He feels himself nod.
"Yeah…"
He's bigger than Zeke. Taller. Wider. But it doesn't matter. The shotgun is propped against the wall, just inside the door. And he still doesn't know what really happened to Zeke's parents.
He sips the beer, sets the caulk on the side table, suddenly aware of how much space he takes up on the couch, how close he is to Zeke. Zeke, legs spread, unbothered. It makes sense. It's his house.
"How's school?" Zeke asks him.
He told Zeke about going to the tech college, probably. The welding program. Or someone else told him. Eren, maybe. He doesn't know if Zeke and Eren talk about stuff like that. A lot of times, Zeke knows stuff he's not supposed to know.
How's school?
Probably mentioned it in passing, now that he thinks about it. He waits a beat too long to answer.
"Good." Another beat. It feels like forever. "How's the hospital?"
"Fantastic." Zeke catches a drop of beer from his mustache. "Busy, but you know how it goes. My schedule is all over the place these days."
"Right." Reiner tries to think. "Still riding the rig?"
Last he knew, Zeke was still doing ambulatory. But that was a while ago. Maybe he's just in the ER now.
"Ah, yeah." Zeke scratches the back of his neck. "Wheeling and healing, you know."
Reiner nods again.
"You like it?"
"Love it." Zeke smiles. "Going disco." He twirls a finger in the air, making a siren noise. "Nothing like it."
"Right."
As Zeke takes another slug from his beer, Reiner holds his breath. In his head, it's starting to make sense, after all this time.
Zeke and Eren are doing it. That explains the way Zeke is around Eren, the way they are around each other. The glances. The body language. It's not about their parents being dead, or them being so young when it happened.
Zeke is fucking him, that's why he's so protective.
"How's your tooth?"
He didn't realize he was tonguing it. He's been watching the shotgun.
"Uh."
High-velocity lead implant. That's what Zeke calls a gunshot wound.
"Happy to look at it, if you want." Zeke pushes his glasses up on his nose. "Plus, I've got the stuff."
Zeke always has medical supplies. Stuff he swipes from work, plus stuff he has no idea where it came from. Not hard to believe he's got dental tools, too.
He doesn't want Zeke looking in his mouth. Even less, drilling on his teeth. Especially when Zeke knows he came here to bang his sister.
"Nah, it's—"
Zeke sets his beer down.
"Let's take a peek."
Zeke stands over him. He forgets how tall he is, even taller now that he's sitting down.
"All right."
Zeke's fingers taste like cigarettes, even through the gloves. His jacket reeks, too. This close, as he shoves his fingers into his mouth.
"Little wider for me. Like that."
He runs the pad of his finger over his molar. Pain shoots up his skull.
"Ah, I see." Zeke prods at his gums. "Probably should get it looked at." He tastes like antibacterial soap and smoke. "I've got a guy. I'll give you his number."
He can't say anything. Zeke's hands are still in his mouth. He just nods, saliva running down his throat, cock still hard in his jeans.
The door of the trailer creaks open.
"Oh, hey, Eren," Zeke calls over. "I was just looking at Reiner's tooth."
Eren stares, not moving.
"Right."
Eren's backpack slides from his shoulder. Just standing at in the doorway, cold air at his feet.
"In or out, Eren," Zeke reminds him gently.
Eren stares for another long moment, then turns and leaves, the door of the trailer bouncing against the frame and smacking shut.
"Right."
Zeke wipes his fingers on his jeans. He takes a pen from his pocket and jots down a number in a mini spiral notepad.
"Here."
He tears it off and gives it to him. A name and phone number, in Zeke's doctor scrawl.
"Tell him I said hi."
He won't.
He stays away from the trailer for a week, maybe two. He can wait until Eren comes around again. Maybe.
Eren misses his period.
It's cold, slush seeping into the cracks of Reiner's boots, the mat by the door soaked through. There's shuffling toward the back, a dog arching forward to retch.
Eren is puking. He's pale by the toilet, feet bare. Legs folded under him like petals.
Shit.
"You sick?"
"Dunno." Eren blinks up at him, bleary. Eyes red. "Won't stop."
Reiner steps toward him, jeans creaking as he squats next to the toilet. A wave of acid hits him, ammonia and bleach.
"How long?"
"Dunno." Eren sags. "Few days, maybe."
This isn't Eren just not wanting to get out of bed because he's cold, or he's having a bad day, or he's obviously been crying.
This is different. He's never come over to the trailer and found him puking like this.
He sets a hand on Eren's back. He's not shitting. If it's not coming out of both ends, he's not sick.
Fuck.
Fuck.
"Get you some water."
Eren's arm comes out, grabbing for him.
"No, stay here."
Eren's spine ripples again, a wet sound against the bowl. Reiner holds back his hair, pats his back.
"There you go."
Eren burps.
Fuck, Zeke is going to kill him.
Now, he comes over every morning to watch Eren puke.
Instead of huddling in bed, Eren clutches the toilet, hair hanging limp.
"Gonna be late," Reiner tells him.
"Called out," Eren mumbles.
He can't miss this much school.
Reiner misses class. Then shop. He makes it to work, barely.
He wonders if Zeke knows yet.
He drives Eren to the high school, bundling him into his truck, the heater blasting. He should have started the engine sooner.
Eren curls in the seat, miserable. At least he stopped puking, for now.
He doesn't want to drop Eren off in front, where everyone can see. But he doesn't want Eren to have to walk, so he pulls into the line of cars as they slow and stop, doors opening. Kids with their backpacks, gym bags, open coats and untied shoes. Eren's ratty backpack on the slush-wet mat, dirty sneakers drawn up on the seat, unmoving.
"You need a ride home later?"
"Nah." Eren grabs the door handle. "I'll get one."
He steps out, creaking the car door shut. Against the white-blanketed sky flecked with snowflakes, Eren's face is paler than when they left.
Zeke could get him something to make him stop puking. From the hospital, probably.
He makes it to shop. A few minutes late, but he gets there.
Nice of you to show up, Braun.
He flips his helmet down, sparks showering him as each thought pounds through his head.
If it's his kid, he'll take care of it.
Eren could be fucking someone else. Some senior, maybe. On the side. Or he's the one on the side. Doesn't matter.
When Historia got an abortion, everybody knew it was his. It didn't take her long to jump on his dick her sophomore year, when he was riding high as captain of the football team, even though they went home to opposite sides of town every day. He was trash, but he made her feel good.
Can't believe she's even talking to him, everyone said.
It was just the one time, and she got pregnant. Even as he was burning through the whole cheer squad.
Of course she got rid of it, they said.
He's lucky he doesn't already have a kid. He got lucky once, and now, it's caught up to him.
It's his kid. He knows it.
He's accepted it. He'll take care of the baby, and Eren.
When his mom gets home, he gets into a fight with her. He's not even sure what about.
"All I know is…" She's slamming things in the kitchen, like she did when he was a kid, just to scare him. "You're not living up to your potential."
He laughs, because it sounds like a joke.
"What potential?"
Not since the concussion, the game right before state. Since he lost the scholarship to play ball at the four-year school three hours away. Since he took a year off, getting his brain scanned, and the meds, and gaining thirty pounds and then losing it, gaining fifty pounds again, over and over.
He says something, but he doesn't hear it. His mom's face spasms. Maybe she'll hit him.
"Reiner, you're never going to see your father again."
She's just saying shit, now.
"Your father is dead."
It's not true. He knows it.
Bitch.
"Bullshit."
He throws a cup. It shatters over her head, ceramic shards in her hair. She shrinks back.
His mom's scared of him, too.
Good.
He calls Eren, even though there's a chance Zeke might pick up.
The phone rings. And rings. No answer.
He doesn't leave a message.
The phone rings.
Reiner.
He drives Eren to the hospital in the snow. He's so glad he put chains on the truck tires.
Eren is shivering. Pale. Blood everywhere.
He watches the clock in the waiting room. The second hand stops, then rushes ahead, disorienting. A nurse calls for him.
Reiner Braun?
He's not family, but they let him sit in the exam room with Eren.
They kick him out for the procedure. They suction everything out of him, the rest that wasn't already gone. On the bathroom floor, in his underwear, in his jeans.
Outside the room, he hears Eren whimper. He's not in there, but he can see it in his head. Eren, in a gown, knees spread, feet in stirrups, hairline sweaty.
Zeke's on the rig. He can't get back. That's why he didn't answer.
The cup filling with blood and tissue, line by line.
His kid. His, and Eren's.
It's probably for the best.
The lights are dimmed when they let him go back again. Eren is hooked up to an IV. He's less pale now.
Reiner leans down, kisses the top of his head. He smells like hospital.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Eren reaches for him, hand closed in his shirt, eyes shut.
"Ah."
The door opens. A throat clears behind him.
Zeke.
His stomach flips. When he turns to face Zeke, Eren grabs for his hand.
"Hey."
He stands there, next to the bed, holding Eren's hand, the one with a tube in it.
"Hey."
In the doorway, Zeke looks like death. He locks eyes with him, and it feels like forever. He nods.
"Thanks, Reiner. For taking him."
Zeke can kill him later. He doesn't care. Eren lost two units of blood.
Eren goes home the next day. He misses a week of school. Armin brings his homework.
After work, Reiner goes to check on him.
He smokes in front of the door, not sure how long he lingers in the cold. It gets dark early, these days.
Maybe he should stay away. But he can't.
Inside, it's warm. Heater's working again. Eren perks up a little when he sees him.
"Yo, Reiner."
He looks better.
"Hey, sexy."
Eren falls asleep in his arms. He's not sure how long he's out, too, just the jingling of keys and the front door clapping closed.
"Eren?"
Footsteps, coming closer. Eren wiggles against him. Zeke pokes his head in to Eren's room.
"Ah. Hey, Reiner."
Shit. Fuck. He's in Eren's bed.
"Hey, Zeke. I—"
Zeke just nods, a knowing look on his face as he shuts the door.
Eren wraps his arms around his waist. He's practically on top of him, long legs splayed. There's no way he could move, even if he wanted to.
He doesn't want to.
He kisses Eren on the way out the door. It hurts to leave him, but he'll be back.
Next week is winter break. He'll get to see Eren then.
They can start over. They can watch movies on Eren's couch, and he'll bring snacks, and Eren's favorite soda. He'll take Eren out to dinner. They can get dressed up in nice clothes, and he'll take him in the truck. Maybe Eren will wear a dress.
At the end of the night, he'll kiss Eren, long and sweet.
He'll do this right.
Eren will graduate, maybe start at the community college in town, just as he's finishing up his program and can work more.
Zeke hasn't killed him yet. Maybe he won't.
He passes his finals. So does Eren.
Even though he missed so much class, and Eren missed so much class. Thank God for Armin.
The lights are up in the park, strings of tiny yellowed bulbs hanging over the drive at the entrance. Soft white and blue line the Yeagers' roof and door. Zeke must have done it.
He has a pack of soda, a plastic bag of takeout, cigarettes, condoms. Eren answers the door, hoodie sleeves hanging past his fingers.
"Baby girl."
Eren smiles.
It's better this way.
Oh, my heart went wild.