Sophie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladyhoneydarlinglove) wrote2013-05-29 11:33 pm
ladyhoneydarlinglove) wrote2013-05-29 11:33 pm
snk fic: do you have any idea what you do to me?
Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin
Characters: Reiner Braun, Bertholdt Fubar
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~1680
Summary: Bertholdt keeps doing things that leave Reiner really frustrated.
Notes: Written for the snk kink meme. Prompt: Bertholdt being accidentally sexy while doing things.
--
If Reiner hadn’t know for a fact that Bertholdt was completely clueless about how he managed to present himself, he would have thought Bertholdt was doing these things on purpose.
It started off innocently enough; all the boys in the barracks woke for training and though Reiner could have sworn Bertholdt had gone to bed in a shirt last night, he climbed down from the bunk bare-chested, somehow managing to avoid putting on his tunic for a good five minutes while taking care of his other morning rituals. And Reiner snuck a glance or seven because it was a very nice looking chest and he was allowed to appreciate aesthetics, wasn’t he? That was what Reiner told himself anyway.
But then Bertholdt started putting on his harness, and somehow, he managed to get several of the straps twisted up. “Shoot,” Bertholdt grumbled. “Reiner, can you help me get these straps untangled? I can’t see the ones on my back.”
Reiner blinked. “Um, sure,” he said, stepping over to help Bertholdt out of his mess. It gave Reiner an opportunity to run his fingers across Bertholdt’s back several times, and even through the thick cloth of Bertholdt’s shirt, the touches felt far better than Reiner was comfortable with.
By the time he was finished, Reiner’s fingers were shaky and he could feel a dull heat beginning to rise in his cheeks. “There,” he said, stepping back and trying to find something else to occupy his attention with immediately. It wasn’t hard when Jean was snickering two bunks away. “I wouldn’t laugh, Jean,” Reiner said. “Your harness is completely backwards.”
“What? No, it isn’t!” Jean craned his neck back. “Marco, is my harness on backwards? Marco!”
Reiner slipped out of the barracks before Jean could figure out he was lying.
--
Reiner tried to shrug the incident off as something not worth lingering upon, but his attempts to do so proved useless by breakfast. It was the typical meal of thin porridge and a hard roll, bland and tasteless as ever until Sasha slipped into the seat next to Reiner and whispered, “Guys! Look what I’ve got!”
She pulled out a jar containing something the color of amber. “What is it?” Eren asked.
“Honey!” Sasha exclaimed. “One of the families in my village has a small bee farm and the harvest this year was really good, so they gave my dad a jar, and he sent it to me. I thought I would share it with everyone!” Sasha beamed as she passed the jar off to Reiner. “If you put it on your porridge it’ll actually taste good!”
Reiner opened the jar and drizzled some honey over his food before passing it off to Bertholdt. The taste of it was sweet and floral on his tongue and Reiner found himself surprised by how much he liked it. “Thanks, Sasha,” he said with a smile.
Sasha grinned, but her attention seemed to be focused on something past Reiner. “Bertholdt!” she laughed. “You’ve made a mess!”
Reiner turned and was somewhat horrified to see Bertholdt, instead of pouring the honey on his porridge, had drizzled it over his bread and now his fingers were covered with the sticky liquid. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile.
“Ah, it’s fine! Just lick it off; that’s what I always do!” Sasha suggested, and Reiner’s heart lodged itself in his throat as Bertholdt listened to her. He stuck the tip of each finger in his mouth individually to lick the honey off, and Reiner only just managed to suppress a frustrated groan. He fixed his attention firmly on his porridge, but a low heat had already started to build in the pit of his stomach Reiner knew wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.
--
The day only got worse from there. In hand-to-hand combat training, Keith decided he was tired of seeing Eren kick Reiner’s butt all over the area and paired him up with Bertholdt for a more even match. This led to Bertholdt tackling Reiner to the ground several times and landing on top of him in the process, to the point where Reiner couldn’t tell if he was hot and sweaty because of the unrelenting summer sun or because he was just that turned on.
“Reiner, are you ok?” Bertholdt asked, helping Reiner up off the ground for the fifth time. “You seem kind of out of it.”
“What?” Reiner said, having been too busy trying to see if his pants were tented to catch what Bertholdt was saying (they weren’t; Reiner had never been so grateful for anything in his life).
“I said you seem kind of out of it.” Bertholdt frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I just… I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” Reiner lied. “You know, sometimes Jean’s snoring is just too much to handle.”
“I don’t snore!” Jean yelled from his spot wrestling with Mina, who used his inattentiveness to knock Jean flat onto his face.
They had a brief lunch during which Bertholdt began to tear off pieces of his bread roll and sop up the last remnants of stew, thereby getting it onto his fingers and having to suck them clean, and Reiner had to excuse himself halfway through the meal to go dunk his head in a barrel of water.
Then it was a sixteen kilometer trek around the nearby lake with full gear and supplies, and it didn’t take long for everyone to become sweaty and red-faced from sunburn. “This is ridiculous,” Jean panted next to Reiner as they jogged. “Why make us do this on the hottest day of the year?”
“Come on, Jean!” Eren called from his spot a few meters ahead; he and Mikasa seemed to be the only two of the group who weren’t actively struggling not to collapse. “How are you going to make into the Military Police if you can’t even do a little jog around the lake?”
“Eren, you little shit!” Jean yelled, and sprinted forward, leaving Reiner to sigh and shake his head.
“Do you think—“ he started to say to Bertholdt, but stopped when he saw Bertholdt was using the bottom of his shirt to wipe away the sweat from his face, exposing a stomach of taut abs, with the occasional drop of sweat running through the creases of skin.
Reiner tripped and smashed his face into the ground.
“Reiner!” Bertholdt yelled, stopping to help Reiner back to his feet. Reiner groaned and touched his nose; his hand came away red with blood.
“Braun!” Keith bellowed from atop his horse. “You’d better shape up or you’re going to be running around this lake twice!”
“Sir!” Reiner called as he stood up and began running again, brushing off Bertholdt’s attempts to help him. “I’m fine,” he said, more terse than he’d meant to be. “It’ll stop bleeding soon enough.”
He kept his gaze straight ahead so he wouldn’t have to look at Bertholdt, but that didn’t keep the noise of ripping cloth from reaching his ears. Against his better judgment, Reiner glanced in Bertholdt’s direction, and almost tripped again when he saw Bertholdt had ripped away a good chunk of fabric around the collar of his shirt, exposing the top of his pecs and his collarbones.
“Here,” Bertholdt said, handing Reiner the piece of cloth. When Reiner didn’t take it right away, too busy still staring at Bertholdt’s chest, he smiled and said, “It was an old shirt anyway. Don’t worry about it.”
Reiner was going to kill him.
--
Reiner had never been as thankful for a cold shower as the one he got to take before dinner, and it had nothing to do with the summer heat. And while everyone else went to dinner, Reiner opted to stay in the barracks so he could just get away from Bertholdt long enough to get himself back under control. He was a soldier, Reiner thought as he stared up at the ceiling in a futile effort to calm his body down. He should have been able to handle a few instances of flashed skin and sticky fingers and whatever the hell else Bertholdt had managed to pull off today.
And yet here he was, lying on his bunk, more wound up and frustrated than he had ever been before in his life. Reiner groaned and buried his face into his pillow; he wondered how awful drowning himself in the lake would be compared to suffering through another minute of this day.
“Reiner?”
Reiner refused to look. “What, Bertholdt?”
“Are you sick or something?” The mattress near Reiner’s stomach dipped as Bertholdt sat next to him. “You’ve been acting strange all day.”
Reiner groaned and lifted his head to speak. “I’m fine, I just—Bertholdt, why are your lips red?”
“Huh? Oh.” Bertholdt touched his mouth. “Sasha found some wild raspberries on the run today and passed them out at dinner. I guess I didn’t clean my mouth as well as I thought I did.” He frowned, licking his lips, and something inside Reiner snapped.
He sat up and surged forward, pushing Bertholdt down against the bed. “Reiner, what are you—“ Bertholdt tried to say, but Reiner cut him off as he smashed their lips together, taking Bertholdt’s mouth in a desperate, thorough kiss, not relenting until Bertholdt was red-faced and panting, eyes wide in shock when Reiner finally pulled back.
“Reiner,” he gasped. “What…”
“You are,” Reiner snarled, pressing a kiss against Bertholdt’s lips, “the most,” another kiss, this time on the corner of his mouth, “infuriating,” a kiss against Bertholdt’s jaw, “clueless,” a kiss against Bertholdt’s pulse and then a nip of teeth, causing Bertholdt to jerk under him, “person on the entire planet.”
Bertholdt’s breath hitched as Reiner ran a hand under his shirt. “I’m… I’m sorry?” he said, obviously confused but also not protesting when Reiner began to pull off his shirt.
“You’d better be,” Reiner growled, and proceeded to kiss and nip and lick and touch Bertholdt until Bertholdt was as frustrated as Reiner has been all day, and Reiner had him begging for release.
Characters: Reiner Braun, Bertholdt Fubar
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~1680
Summary: Bertholdt keeps doing things that leave Reiner really frustrated.
Notes: Written for the snk kink meme. Prompt: Bertholdt being accidentally sexy while doing things.
--
If Reiner hadn’t know for a fact that Bertholdt was completely clueless about how he managed to present himself, he would have thought Bertholdt was doing these things on purpose.
It started off innocently enough; all the boys in the barracks woke for training and though Reiner could have sworn Bertholdt had gone to bed in a shirt last night, he climbed down from the bunk bare-chested, somehow managing to avoid putting on his tunic for a good five minutes while taking care of his other morning rituals. And Reiner snuck a glance or seven because it was a very nice looking chest and he was allowed to appreciate aesthetics, wasn’t he? That was what Reiner told himself anyway.
But then Bertholdt started putting on his harness, and somehow, he managed to get several of the straps twisted up. “Shoot,” Bertholdt grumbled. “Reiner, can you help me get these straps untangled? I can’t see the ones on my back.”
Reiner blinked. “Um, sure,” he said, stepping over to help Bertholdt out of his mess. It gave Reiner an opportunity to run his fingers across Bertholdt’s back several times, and even through the thick cloth of Bertholdt’s shirt, the touches felt far better than Reiner was comfortable with.
By the time he was finished, Reiner’s fingers were shaky and he could feel a dull heat beginning to rise in his cheeks. “There,” he said, stepping back and trying to find something else to occupy his attention with immediately. It wasn’t hard when Jean was snickering two bunks away. “I wouldn’t laugh, Jean,” Reiner said. “Your harness is completely backwards.”
“What? No, it isn’t!” Jean craned his neck back. “Marco, is my harness on backwards? Marco!”
Reiner slipped out of the barracks before Jean could figure out he was lying.
--
Reiner tried to shrug the incident off as something not worth lingering upon, but his attempts to do so proved useless by breakfast. It was the typical meal of thin porridge and a hard roll, bland and tasteless as ever until Sasha slipped into the seat next to Reiner and whispered, “Guys! Look what I’ve got!”
She pulled out a jar containing something the color of amber. “What is it?” Eren asked.
“Honey!” Sasha exclaimed. “One of the families in my village has a small bee farm and the harvest this year was really good, so they gave my dad a jar, and he sent it to me. I thought I would share it with everyone!” Sasha beamed as she passed the jar off to Reiner. “If you put it on your porridge it’ll actually taste good!”
Reiner opened the jar and drizzled some honey over his food before passing it off to Bertholdt. The taste of it was sweet and floral on his tongue and Reiner found himself surprised by how much he liked it. “Thanks, Sasha,” he said with a smile.
Sasha grinned, but her attention seemed to be focused on something past Reiner. “Bertholdt!” she laughed. “You’ve made a mess!”
Reiner turned and was somewhat horrified to see Bertholdt, instead of pouring the honey on his porridge, had drizzled it over his bread and now his fingers were covered with the sticky liquid. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile.
“Ah, it’s fine! Just lick it off; that’s what I always do!” Sasha suggested, and Reiner’s heart lodged itself in his throat as Bertholdt listened to her. He stuck the tip of each finger in his mouth individually to lick the honey off, and Reiner only just managed to suppress a frustrated groan. He fixed his attention firmly on his porridge, but a low heat had already started to build in the pit of his stomach Reiner knew wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.
--
The day only got worse from there. In hand-to-hand combat training, Keith decided he was tired of seeing Eren kick Reiner’s butt all over the area and paired him up with Bertholdt for a more even match. This led to Bertholdt tackling Reiner to the ground several times and landing on top of him in the process, to the point where Reiner couldn’t tell if he was hot and sweaty because of the unrelenting summer sun or because he was just that turned on.
“Reiner, are you ok?” Bertholdt asked, helping Reiner up off the ground for the fifth time. “You seem kind of out of it.”
“What?” Reiner said, having been too busy trying to see if his pants were tented to catch what Bertholdt was saying (they weren’t; Reiner had never been so grateful for anything in his life).
“I said you seem kind of out of it.” Bertholdt frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I just… I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” Reiner lied. “You know, sometimes Jean’s snoring is just too much to handle.”
“I don’t snore!” Jean yelled from his spot wrestling with Mina, who used his inattentiveness to knock Jean flat onto his face.
They had a brief lunch during which Bertholdt began to tear off pieces of his bread roll and sop up the last remnants of stew, thereby getting it onto his fingers and having to suck them clean, and Reiner had to excuse himself halfway through the meal to go dunk his head in a barrel of water.
Then it was a sixteen kilometer trek around the nearby lake with full gear and supplies, and it didn’t take long for everyone to become sweaty and red-faced from sunburn. “This is ridiculous,” Jean panted next to Reiner as they jogged. “Why make us do this on the hottest day of the year?”
“Come on, Jean!” Eren called from his spot a few meters ahead; he and Mikasa seemed to be the only two of the group who weren’t actively struggling not to collapse. “How are you going to make into the Military Police if you can’t even do a little jog around the lake?”
“Eren, you little shit!” Jean yelled, and sprinted forward, leaving Reiner to sigh and shake his head.
“Do you think—“ he started to say to Bertholdt, but stopped when he saw Bertholdt was using the bottom of his shirt to wipe away the sweat from his face, exposing a stomach of taut abs, with the occasional drop of sweat running through the creases of skin.
Reiner tripped and smashed his face into the ground.
“Reiner!” Bertholdt yelled, stopping to help Reiner back to his feet. Reiner groaned and touched his nose; his hand came away red with blood.
“Braun!” Keith bellowed from atop his horse. “You’d better shape up or you’re going to be running around this lake twice!”
“Sir!” Reiner called as he stood up and began running again, brushing off Bertholdt’s attempts to help him. “I’m fine,” he said, more terse than he’d meant to be. “It’ll stop bleeding soon enough.”
He kept his gaze straight ahead so he wouldn’t have to look at Bertholdt, but that didn’t keep the noise of ripping cloth from reaching his ears. Against his better judgment, Reiner glanced in Bertholdt’s direction, and almost tripped again when he saw Bertholdt had ripped away a good chunk of fabric around the collar of his shirt, exposing the top of his pecs and his collarbones.
“Here,” Bertholdt said, handing Reiner the piece of cloth. When Reiner didn’t take it right away, too busy still staring at Bertholdt’s chest, he smiled and said, “It was an old shirt anyway. Don’t worry about it.”
Reiner was going to kill him.
--
Reiner had never been as thankful for a cold shower as the one he got to take before dinner, and it had nothing to do with the summer heat. And while everyone else went to dinner, Reiner opted to stay in the barracks so he could just get away from Bertholdt long enough to get himself back under control. He was a soldier, Reiner thought as he stared up at the ceiling in a futile effort to calm his body down. He should have been able to handle a few instances of flashed skin and sticky fingers and whatever the hell else Bertholdt had managed to pull off today.
And yet here he was, lying on his bunk, more wound up and frustrated than he had ever been before in his life. Reiner groaned and buried his face into his pillow; he wondered how awful drowning himself in the lake would be compared to suffering through another minute of this day.
“Reiner?”
Reiner refused to look. “What, Bertholdt?”
“Are you sick or something?” The mattress near Reiner’s stomach dipped as Bertholdt sat next to him. “You’ve been acting strange all day.”
Reiner groaned and lifted his head to speak. “I’m fine, I just—Bertholdt, why are your lips red?”
“Huh? Oh.” Bertholdt touched his mouth. “Sasha found some wild raspberries on the run today and passed them out at dinner. I guess I didn’t clean my mouth as well as I thought I did.” He frowned, licking his lips, and something inside Reiner snapped.
He sat up and surged forward, pushing Bertholdt down against the bed. “Reiner, what are you—“ Bertholdt tried to say, but Reiner cut him off as he smashed their lips together, taking Bertholdt’s mouth in a desperate, thorough kiss, not relenting until Bertholdt was red-faced and panting, eyes wide in shock when Reiner finally pulled back.
“Reiner,” he gasped. “What…”
“You are,” Reiner snarled, pressing a kiss against Bertholdt’s lips, “the most,” another kiss, this time on the corner of his mouth, “infuriating,” a kiss against Bertholdt’s jaw, “clueless,” a kiss against Bertholdt’s pulse and then a nip of teeth, causing Bertholdt to jerk under him, “person on the entire planet.”
Bertholdt’s breath hitched as Reiner ran a hand under his shirt. “I’m… I’m sorry?” he said, obviously confused but also not protesting when Reiner began to pull off his shirt.
“You’d better be,” Reiner growled, and proceeded to kiss and nip and lick and touch Bertholdt until Bertholdt was as frustrated as Reiner has been all day, and Reiner had him begging for release.