Work Text:
Spring, 854
Reiner was headed to the locker rooms alongside Colt after one of their rugby matches, with Porco in tow. Reiner could already feel Porco’s fiery gaze searing into him as they entered the hallway that led to somewhere more secluded. He was furious, and he was going to make sure that Reiner knew it. As soon as it dawned on the shorter man that Zeke, their coach, wasn’t around, another tongue lashing began.
“Hey asshole. You lost the game for us. Nice going!”
Reiner’s eye twitched as Porco swung a fist into his shoulder, hard. Pain radiated throughout his already sore body. Jean would never treat him this way. Even with as much of a failure he was, as he continued to be… He heard an exasperated sigh from Colt. Yes, they were at it again.
“Well, you never pass to me! I don’t see how we’re supposed to win under these conditions.”
Reiner’s thoughts again drifted to Jean, like they would do frequently. He knew the strong bond they’d developed over the last 5 years wouldn’t disappear overnight and he hoped it never did. On Paradis, Reiner got to feel not like an Eldian, or a Marleyan, but like a regular human being. Jean often spoke out of turn, but at least he had manners, some humility, a little empathy…
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up, Reiner.” Porco fumed, and roughly shoved him into a seated position. “Why are you looking so satisfied? We lost, remember? Wipe that smile off your stupid face before I do it myself.”
Reiner looked up, glowered defiantly at the shorter man above him, who was still yammering on about how useless he was. 2 weeks. Already longing for Paradis even though it hadn’t even been 2 weeks since he got off the boat home. 2 weeks of Porco staring at him, goading him into fights constantly, not being able to keep his hands off the taller man.
Back to his ball and chain… back to reality… back to Marley and everything that came with it. Something felt different. Porco looked at him the same but also different. It wasn’t Marley that had changed. Something in Reiner had shifted.
“Make me, why don’t you?” he dared, and was answered by a harsh slap, the sting startling him, his knees quivering as he felt a sick thrill surge through him.
If he was still on Paradis, he wouldn’t have to field these accusations from someone who wasn’t even half the man he was, yet claimed to be twice that. Paradis was his playground after all, where he’d committed more sins than he could ever atone for.
“On your knees.” Porco ordered, and a heavy sigh escaped Reiner as he sank to the floor, letting out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
Twice the spite, twice the aggravation… twice the hassle, twice the damnation.
Jean may have been an island devil, but Jean was HIS island devil. What was one more dirty secret to add to the pile? Here he was just an Eldian, damned, doomed, wretched. Unless… he could prove himself in the hopes of one day earning citizenship. Maybe he could wash all the sins away in the shower, after changing out of their sweaty, dirty gear.
“Lower, lower... good. That’s where you belong.”
Penance, that's what this was. Reiner would take responsibility for everything, and everyone.
It was impossible to evade the cruel invective aimed at getting him to break down, just like he did as a child. Accusing him of things he didn’t do, that in reality he actually did. He really did lose them the game. Not to mention all the things he was supposed to do, that he didn’t.
Returning from Paradis, it was obvious that’s what he was. A failure. It occurred to Reiner that he needed to be punished for his failures, something he knew Jean wouldn’t, couldn’t do. Maybe the younger Galliard was the right one for the job.
Reiner shuddered and inhaled deeply, kneeling at Porco’s feet, who’d rudely pressed his toes against Reiner’s nose and lips.
The younger man was laughing at Reiner, mocking him for losing, all the while resting the sole of his socked foot squarely on the Armored’s face.
He really was doomed.
“You are a loser. Always have been…” Porco scoffed, and his eyes widened slightly when he realized that Reiner looked to be enjoying it. “God, stop acting like such a pervert. You’re pathetic.”
Reiner was lost in the heady aroma of sweat and musk, and something else. Possibly a bit of dirt, and the sense they were doing something taboo was an intoxicating rush. He steadied himself by capturing Porco’s foot inside of a trembling grip.
It occurred to him that he could so easily break it, shatter that dainty foot in a crushing grip. But he couldn't.
He didn’t have it in him. Plus there’d be no point. They were both going to heal damn near instantaneously from anything they could do to each other.
“You’re one to talk.” Reiner muttered under his breath, met with another scowl from Porco as he let go of him abruptly. Reiner kneeled to retrieve a clean t-shirt from a small locker, collecting the clothes he’d be needing after they hit the showers.
Before long the hot water was washing over both strong bodies, and Reiner could feel Porco’s eyes on him as he spread the soap suds over his chest and under his arms. Over time, the way he looked at him seemed to have changed from mere antagonism to something more like a predator stalking its prey.
Reiner had been taking notice of the evolving nature of that sharp glare. The way he seemed to start even more altercations with the taller man than before. The issue was, Reiner had given so much to Jean already that he wasn’t sure if there was much of himself left. Porco might not be successful in getting whatever it was he wanted, but at least he could let him try. The way Porco was acting right now made him feel desired, sought after, albeit mercilessly scrutinized.
“Stop looking at me like that!” Reiner snapped, equal parts embarrassed and fed up. His body had changed so much over his time on Paradis that he felt rather self-conscious even though he hadn’t any right to be, as far as Porco was concerned.
Who indeed, was so different from Jean. Other than thinking he was any kind of strong man or admirable role model, Jean hadn't made any assumptions when they were cadets. Whereas Porco acted like he knew all about who Reiner was, everything about the bigger man even though he made sure to share almost nothing. It would never be used as anything other than ammunition. And now that everything he had with Jean was as good as ruined forever, there was no sense in trying to hold on to things that would only bring pain.
“What are you going to do about it?” Porco retorted, and continued gazing at him with what looked like a mix of mischief and amusement, captivated by Reiner in spite of the resentment he’d been feeding for years.
“The same thing I always fucking do. Get used to it, Pock.” Reiner provoked, wanting to see how far the other would go, the response crafted to preserve the plausible deniability he knew they both valued, the invitation that also wasn’t. Porco growled deep in his throat. Almost intimidating.
“I thought I already told you not to call me that.” Porco said as the soap suds poured down his body, washing the day off the smaller frame.
“Alright, sweetheart.” Reiner goaded, unable to resist stealing a glance of his own, hearing Porco’s noise of exasperation through gritted teeth.
“Shut the fuck up and focus on your damn self.” Porco shot back, feeling a telltale warmth rush to his cheeks.
If Porco wasn’t going to accept him as a Marleyan Warrior in his own right, Reiner would make sure he made at least some kind of lasting impression on Porco. Even if it took losing part of himself to do it. He’d left all the important parts of himself on Paradis, with his island devil.
Reiner was a different man now. He’d let Porco have what little remained, that would be sufficient. His just desserts for all of the acrimony he’d poured into Reiner over the years.
Porco would never know who he'd become on the island. Maybe it was better that way.
As Porco looked into his eyes, Reiner felt a sense of resignation, sorrow, and regret he came back from the island at all. But he knew this was how it had to be. After all, he had most of what he needed here anyway. Reiner held his gaze as he washed the dirt from the field off his own body. The remaining Galliard’s eyes glowed with anger, indignation, and something else, something he dared not name. How Reiner wished he could wash off the rest of it. He understood that he'd go back to being viewed as a traitor if Porco even knew the half of it. Once again, it was no longer safe not to drop his mask...
Same as it ever was.