#He thinks he can no longer join MP not without Jean. Maybe he sees Jean in the smoke and feels guilty for not being there to help him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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Nur für die Schwachen: Chapter I [2019]

Summary: Succeeding another bout of training with ODM gear, Eren has an unexpected run-in with Annie in the nearby storage shed and the situation quickly spirals out of control. Whether or not their actions will have any lasting consequences remains to be seen; for now, all that’s left to do is try to survive the remaining months until graduation. [FFNet. | Ao3]

a/n: Hold onto your hats, here comes the inciting incident!

At dusk, Eren rises along with the rest of his mates—in truth, it's Armin that nudges him from the bunk, mutters: "Come on, it was your idea. I'll go if you do."

It's a rare day off, but as graduation is just a few months away from now, the consensus becomes that any free day is good for getting in practise, however you can.

Eren himself has a plan: he and a few other cadets among the 104th Training Corps that aren't feeling completely up-to-scratch about their ODM gear abilities have agreed to band together in order to try and get some more hours in-the-field, before they have to prove themselves outright. It's not the actual looming test itself that worries Eren, not the fear of getting his wires cut and plummeting in free-fall, nor the chance of a nasty, untimely death—or even worse, before he can prove Jean wrong—no, that's not it either.

Even if he dies (he certainly won't die) he'll have offered up his blood, his body for the cause, and with any luck at all he might get to see what the world is like outside Wall Maria—this fills him with a fierce determination bordering on mania—when he was fresh-faced and thirteen, the stress would eat away at him worst of all. Now, at fifteen, he's hardened, ready to graduate from the Training Corps: or at least, he's becoming surer with every sunrise, every time he sets foot out on the training field or straps into his gear, or budges his way into a study group alongside Connie or Sasha or Hannah, no longer sheepish but determined to do whatever it takes to get to where he wants to be. For now, he just wants to make sure he has an opportunity to prove himself.

Succeeding breakfast, the cart ride is mostly uneventful. It's hardly a quiet morning, because the birds won't stop squawking at each other, but the clouds travel an idle path across the sky, and the breeze is a seldom occurrence. There are seven of them in total: Armin, himself, Marco, Thomas, Mina, Annie, and Sasha. It's not yet hot enough to be intolerable, but it's a few degrees above comfortable by the time they reach the outskirts of the giant forest.

It's still early enough: most of the cadets on-site are busy with the standard training exercises, but there are at least a few figures whizzing overhead between branches.

Their instructor is late, which has happened only a handful of times within the three-year span of enlistment. "Maybe he's sick," Thomas suggests.

Marco chimes in: "Well, training accidents do occur; maybe he was injured beforehand."

Armin looks pensive, so Eren nudges him. "What's up?"

"Oh." He stifles a yawn into his fist, self-conscious. "Sorry, er. If the instructor is injured or otherwise out-of-commission, you would think they'd tell us—even just a cursory statement." He shakes himself as the others cadets try to figure out why instructor Brecken might be missing.

"Do you think a Titan could've got him, somehow?"

"Sasha, there aren't any Titans inside Wall Rose—"

"As far as you know," she says. "Ain't it true that there's—" she pauses, as if realising something; when she speaks it's more deliberate and precise "—you know, there's one that can bust through the Walls?"

"No, that was the Armoured Titan," Marco says. "As far as we know, there's only one. If it attacked Wall Rose, we'd probably have heard of it by now."

"Yeah, like Armin said, it's probably just a training accident," Thomas adds.

Armin shrugs, somewhat hassled: "That's an educated guess. I have no idea why our instructor is late."

"What do you think, Eren?" asks Mina.

Eren shrugs. "Armin's probably right. I hope he is, anyway." He nudges him playfully with his shoulder; Armin forces a laugh. Annie looks annoyed by it all. Nothing new there.

Once they've geared up, it's out into the wilderness. There's only two of the pseudo-Titans set up at the moment, but they pair off and take it in turns.

While waiting, Mina catches Eren's eye and grins, awkwardly. "D'you have anyone to partner up with?" he asks her.

"Thomas volunteered," she supplies brightly. "How about you?"

"Armin and Sasha, I guess. Annie's already with Marco." He doesn't think much of it in the moment.

"Oh, right." Mina frowns. "I was hoping I could ask you about Annie."

Eren's taken aback. "What? Is everything O.K.?"

Mina sighs. "I'm all right, yeah. She didn't really want to come."

"Oh."

"What?" says Mina.

"Nothing. Well, it's just that I don't usually see her with other people, besides you."

"Right, I just… thought it'd be nice for her, you know? She can't ignore everybody forever—well, she can, but I don't think she should—and she's talking a lot about getting into the MPs, so I figured the two of us could, at least, train together. I think she's worried I won't make it, though."

Eren isn't that familiar with Mina, apart from the sea of faces that come and go. He knows her name, he knows she's one of the few people that Annie hangs around with willingly, and she seems like a nice-enough girl. But they've rarely talked, and never about Annie.

"Say, you're her friend too, aren't you? I can't ask her about this, because she gets all defensive." Mina rolls her eyes. "Honestly, I don't know what she's trying to pull. But I thought you could talk to her and tell her not to worry so much. She doesn't mind your company." Her tone is rather glum; if Eren didn't feel so strong-armed by her request, he'd probably be sorrier for her.

"O.K.," says Eren awkwardly, trying to be sympathetic but lacking any context with which to convey it successfully. "I'll try and talk to her."

Mina brightens up enough to give him a genuine smile. "Really? Thanks, Eren."

It's not a long training session, just under a couple hours. Eren thinks he did all right—that last round, he should've gone back for fresh blades and his cut was well-shy of mortal—but he's definitely got room for improvement. He's frustrated, sure, but so is everyone else. Despite the overhanging, ominous threat of Titans, it's already May. The weather's nicer, and just two weeks ago was a visitation period. Soon enough, with any luck, the members of the 104th will have graduated.

No one has much to say as they come back to the storage unit, swapping out empty gas canisters and deconstructed training dummies for tepid water to fill their canisters. Eren helps Armin and Marco with one of the pseudo-Titan dummies—it seems like it'll be light enough to manage, but it's unwieldy enough to prove a challenge in of itself to get inside the shed at all. Before he can leave, one of the older cadets approaches him and lays a coil of rope, coarse and thin, across his shoulders, and tells him: "Here's the last of it, Jaeger. Take that to the storehouse and don't dawdle, 'else you'll be in the way of the next group."

He calls: "I'll catch up with you guys later," and Thomas waves apologetically.

Eren knows that he'll probably be one of the last to return, but it doesn't bother him so much—until he thinks about their scant supply of water and how thirsty he is. He's surprised, therefore, to find Annie by herself in the shed, moving one of the dummies behind a few stray crates.

"Annie?"

She turns. "Jaeger."

"Need any help with that?"

"No thanks. I got it." She leans the pseudo-Titan against the wall and straightens up, pushing her hair out of her face.

"You were pretty impressive out there," Eren says, coming over to her. Annie grunts noncommittally. He frowns. "You don't have to be standoffish. I didn't expect to see you pitching in, anyway."

"I wasn't going to. Bodt caught me."

"Oh." Eren has learnt not to judge her too critically; it's not as though reprimanding her will get her to change her lackadaisical behaviour. "Is that all?" She throws him a dark look and tries to get the figure unstuck from where it's jutting out, dangerously close to falling over. Eren reaches to help her. "Don't worry about it. The instructor was late to-day, and it'll probably get taken out again anyway."

"Hmph." She relents, though.

The sight of her recalls his promise to Mina, but he isn't sure how he should broach the topic without her getting irritated. It's not even his problem. "Say, what d'you think of Marco?" Eren asks, trying an alternate approach.

"Bodt? The one everyone fawns over?"

Her tone is brittle. Eren raises his eyebrows. "Er, yeah. Do you have a problem with him?"

"He's too virtuous for his own good," Annie says. "It's likely to get him into trouble someday, if he's at all serious about joining the Military Police."

Eren considers her point. "I think he's just trying to do the right thing by all of us."

"You would think like that, wouldn't you?"

"You're being awfully combative," Eren says, a little nonplussed.

"I'm always like this, Jaeger. What did you expect?"

Eren shrugs, sliding the scratchy rope from his shoulders to loop it round his arm from wrist to elbow. "Dunno, to be honest with you." He chances a glance back at the door and remembers why he came here in the first place. Spotting a nearby hook, he hangs it neatly and turns back to Annie. "We should head out. Other cadets need to practise."

But Annie stays where she is. "I suppose he'd be dedicated to the King's cause before he so much as glanced in another human being's direction. You know, if he's smart, I think he'll have himself a career ahead of him."

"Are you still going on about Marco?" Eren responds, growing impatient.

"Oh? Would you rather talk about something else?" she asks, glancing at him.

Eren isn't sure he likes that sudden lilt in her tone. "Not really."

Annie appears to consider the point, looks him up and down. Her gaze flickers briefly to the shed door, still ajar and bleeding sunlight, then she returns her attention to him. "You seem energetic this morning."

He shrugs, unable to keep still, trying to work out any remaining kinks in his muscles. "I guess so. Wish we could've had more time out there, but I s'pose any time is better, yeah?" She's studying him again, so he stops what he's doing.

"Wanna fight first?"

"Wait, in here?"

She turns on her heel; no time to clarify himself, because she's already brought her leg up, aiming for his face—instinctively he blocks it, and using her lack of balance manages to bring her to the ground. They lock eyes, briefly, and she kicks him upside the chin; grunting, he shambles back, massaging his jaw, which is yet another mistake, he realises, when she ducks under his arms and slams him into the shed wall with all of her weight.

It strikes him that now is a good opportunity to take some counter-measure—tries to get his arm around her but by that point, she's already wriggled free. He knows that he's backed into a corner. What does she expect me to do? Sure he'll end up with a boot to the shin or on his arse no matter what he tries, figures, what the hell, I might as well try to take her down with me.

He does end up on his arse, as it figures, but he's ready for it—flinches at the impact, then she's moving closer, between his knees and that's all he needs—his boot catches her ankle and he kicks out, hard, toppling her with a surprised grunt and on the outside he's panting, brimming with energy; inside, he cheers himself a little for finally catching her off-guard—knows he oughtn't but still, it's a small victory. "O.K., I downed you—can we call it off, now?"

Her eyes flash. "We're not finished, Jaeger."

"Oh Goddam it—"

"Even after I've taught you everything I know, you won't fight back properly."

She sounds offended, which throws him for another loop; the battle more-or-less concludes when she jams her knee between both of his, albeit unsuccessfully. "O.K., you win—fuckin' get OFF!" He's flailing, which only aggravates the problem. "Are you deaf? I said get off of me, you psychopath!" She seems to realise that she's pushed this far beyond the limits of harmless flirting and relents. She's always been blunt, sometimes aggressive, but never so blatantly underhanded. He feels almost like a dog being brought to heel, which just pisses him off more—he knows that she's looking for a reaction, just doesn't care, because what gives HER the right to push him around like this?

"Jaeger."

"What's your problem, hunh?" he snaps, still wary.

"Don't you want to join the Scouting Legion?"

It's a suspicious change of pace. Maybe she's aiming to get his guard down. "Uh… yeah, why?"

"You shouldn't go around calling your fellow soldier a psychopath." Her voice is sharp. She's not looking at him head-on, which annoys him. "Someone really should teach you how to talk to girls. Ackermann obviously didn't." It's a decidedly ominous sentiment, but coming from her he's just annoyed.

"Leave Mikasa out of this. You obviously have a problem with me, spit it out."

She isn't trying to kick him anymore, but there's a glint in her eye that wasn't there before. Eren can't tell what's going through her head but she quickly seems to make up her mind: "Have you ever fucked anyone, Jaeger?"

Eren stares at her, momentarily forgetting his thirst or the urge to re-join his fellow cadets, utterly dumbfounded by her lack of tact. He opens his mouth to argue, or protest, or even ask what the hell she's talking about, spits out the first thing that comes to him: "I—uh, what?"

"Answer the question."

"NO!" he snaps, far too aggressively for his own good. "God—is this what you think talking is?"

She doesn't answer. Eren fumes in silence. She's got a lot of nerve clamming up like this when she knows damn well that both of them ought to know better…unless she really is messing with him, which is even worse. "Do you want to try it?" she presses, as if sensing she's making some sort of advance. "You, with me?"

Eren balks a few seconds longer, then finally snaps. "What the hell is that supposed to—is this another one of your jokes? 'Cos it's not funny, all right?"

"It wasn't a joke."

Her tone is brusque, almost hurt, and Eren's taken aback enough that he forgets about her boot mere inches from his groin, and that he's supposed to be angry, but Annie looks away, her mouth pressed to a thin line. There's a long, apprehensive silence before she speaks again: "You want to join the Scouting Legion, so you're probably going to die soon enough. All you ever do is train. Why not have some fun before you graduate?"

"I'm not going to die," Eren counters. He's looking around at everything besides her, for any excuse to put some distance between them because it's too fucking hot in this tiny shed. He does not add that her definition of fun is questionable. "Besides, you want to get into the Military Police Brigade, right? So it's not like we're going to see each other again."

She sits up, unprompted, straddling his hips. His throat goes tight when she leans over him and mutters: "You're pretty sentimental."

She sounds impressed. "So—why me, anyway?" he asks brusquely, refusing to give her anymore satisfaction.

"Hm?"

Eren flusters, making small revolutions with his hands as if he can somehow pull the words from the tense air around them. "Why d'you want—why are you asking me, all of a sudden?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, yeah. I didn't think you cared that much, to be honest."

It's half-a-lie. He's very cognisant of her body's warmth and weight upon him, sure he would feel better if she eased up a little—gasps when she cants her hips back—Annie stiffens when he grabs her hips to make her stop. She braces herself on one hand; there's an instability in her stance that wasn't there a few seconds ago. "This isn't about whether or not I like you, Jaeger. No proper soldier can afford to get attached."

"Shit, why'd you even ASK me, then?" he snaps. "Or is this just about making yourself feel better by fucking me and getting it over with?"

Annie's jaw tightens, but she doesn't offer up an answer immediately, just watching him seethe. When she does speak, it is with biting deliberation: "If you're going to keep asking questions, I'll just find someone who isn't such a—"

Eren's heard enough. He pulls her down and kisses her hard, knocking teeth, but fiercely stalwart when he breaks off. "Such a what?" he asks, his irritation and curiosity blending into a strange and altogether irresponsible aspiration to accept her challenge for what it is.

Annie looks shocked for a second, then quickly reverts to her usual cool demeanour—but there's no going back. "Forget it," she grumbles.

"C'mon, it can't be any worse than suicidal bastard."

Annie sighs through her nose. "You're a stubborn arse. Does that make you happy?"

"Only if you'll get serious about your own grades," Eren mutters, wondering if she only said that to make him stop asking. "You shouldn't skip out now."

Annie hrmphs. "Everyone keeps telling me that."

"Anyway, I-I can't be embarrassed every time you kick my arse. I'd never learn anything, would I?"

"Are you keeping track of how many times you've lost?" Annie inquires, looking unimpressed.

"I'm not that scared of you, y'know."

"Do you even know what to do with me?" she asks, point-blank.

Eren freezes, reminded glaringly of his own inexperience. "Um."

Annie shrugs. "I won't laugh."

"…you know, Annie, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

She pulls back and he's confused 'til she starts working her way out of her harness; in a minute or two she's pulled up her shirt and his stomach takes a plummet like he's just entered free-fall. Annie throws her shirt aside and gets to her feet, working with her boots. Her eyes narrow. She huffs and plops her weight down on the crate behind her, unbuckles her belt without much flair before reinitiating eye-contact with him to enquire: "Were you planning on doing this with all your clothes on?"

Eren notices how uncomfortable he is. He makes a frantic effort to conceal this by sitting up and attempting to get a boot off himself. Her mouth curls, a mere intimation of a smile, and he can't help but dwell on the idea that Annie's unexpectedly beautiful when she exhibits a little emotion. "You don't have to wait for me to get undressed, you know," she adds, kicking off her boots and chinos.

His hands are shaking as he follows suit. He's never resented the complex nature of his own harness more than he does at present; it's taken him months to become adequate with the individual straps and get himself in and out of this device quickly enough without feeling inadequate under Mikasa's well-intended, but altogether officious inspection—no, shouldn't think about Mikasa now. He tugs his boots off, folding his jacket haphazardly and putting that aside as well.

When she straddles him again he can't help but take her in. Without a word, she grasps one of his hands and places it against her naked chest. She remains steadfast under his gaze.

"Does this—?" indicating the bind currently scrunched at her abdomen.

"I'll need to put it back on when we're done." His brow furrows, and she exhales: "Don't worry about it, just…." She's gone pink, and when he grips her shoulders he's struck by the warmth of her skin, the unexpected softness; up until now, he's always regarded her infrequent remarks on delicacy as a joke, but now… well, he's at a loss. As though on cue, Annie mutters: "What are you waiting for?"

"Um."

Her fingers flex, curling into the meat of his shoulder. "I want you to touch me, Jaeger."

His stomach tenses. All he knows about sex is talk among the boy's dorm that he really didn't want to overhear anyway, and then of course, the cursory class this year, trying and failing to laugh off the awkwardness with other boys. But that's textbook stuff, never been an actual girl with parts and oh God he doesn't want to screw this up—

"O.K.," he mutters, studying the texture of her right shoulder, the sweep of her flaxen hair—she's all pale and angular, this paradoxical creature. "I, uh— don't know what I'm doing, so."

"I don't, either."

Eren's gaze snaps back to her. "Wait, is this your first—?"

She pulls him into an embrace that feels closer to a headlock. "You've asked enough questions already."

He's trying not to laugh at the blunt way she puts it, but the new proximity is enough to make his cock jump in his pants, startling her. "Shit, sorry."

Annie kisses the underside of his chin. An awkward tenderness enters her words: "Don't talk."

So his hands roam over her body—now that she's offered up herself, he doesn't feel shameful—and he's urgent, impractised. Perhaps there will be time later to remember the shape and sensation of her body, but he can't be sure. He glances up from time-to-time, between kissing, but she isn't vocal. He notes her eyes have gone dark, a prominent flush staining her cheeks and continuing southward, which intrigues him. Her bangs stick to her brow, and he wonders what she'd look like with her hair down—no, that's too personal. The bind is still wrapped constrictively around her belly, and he feels a little sorry for her. He can feel her breath quicken when he runs his hands up her naked abdomen, to her breasts, which are soft and strangely firm all at once—she's not particularly well-defined, but she fits into his palm. He hesitates, just holding there; there's the pulse of her heart under his fingertips.

"Jaeger," she grunts, catching his wrist and squeezing in a way that commands his attention.

"Wh-what?"

She presses his palm forward. "I don't bite."

"Shit, O.K.," he says, still trying to wrap his head around the idea that she wants him to touch her. "Wh-what should I, uh."

She scoffs. "Just…" flushing, she cups the other breast, "watch."

He's not sure what she's doing that's any different. Her nipples stand out, though; curious, he rolls one under his thumb until it perks. By now she's panting, so he lowers his head and kisses it. Annie gives a little sigh, holding him there. Encouraged, he goes another step and tongues it. Annie's breath turns ragged when he takes it in his mouth.

He draws off only to ask: "O.K.?"

She tugs at his head. "Don't stop."

He finds out quick that she rather likes the kissing, even better when he uses his teeth—but not too much, or he'll get yanked back with a chiding hiss: watch it—when he eases up it gets her shivering again, ruffling his hair and scratching lightly over his nape—he comes back to the dog analogy but this time he's too engrossed to be annoyed—when she croaks that's enough, Jaeger, he sits up and it's a retread of the same lesson with his hands: firm, but not too rough.

He wants to keep kissing her; everywhere, honestly. But what's proper? She hasn't kissed him back, yet. Is she supposed to? (Or did that kiss the other night not count? She hasn't mentioned it since—up until now, he'd put it out of his mind.) He feels like he was doing an O.K. job with her breasts, but maybe not. If he asks too many questions, will she just get up and leave? For now, he moves ahead, mouth half-open upon her collarbone, drawn from sternum to navel, hesitant until Annie catches his head, mutters: "Oi, Jaeger."

He glances up. Her hand dips between her legs as they shift apart; he drags his gaze back down to watch the rhythm of her wrist. He stares for quite a while without really understanding, and Annie sighs, glancing up at him through her bangs.

"You try it," she ushers him.

Tremulous, Eren reaches out and tests her simply with a thumb, gauging the heat that blooms against his skin, just tracing the shape of her without going further. At her encouragement he pushes in with a finger, shocked when she clenches. Her walls are damp and warm; he strokes uncertainly. She sighs and musses up his hair, but she seems nervous more than pleased.

"Is it good?" he mutters, palming himself through his chinos, because it's getting really uncomfortable.

Annie bites her lip, nodding. His mouth turns dry. He looks to her for a sign of what to do next and she shivers, glancing quickly down in turn and back to him. An idea strikes him, and his head dips between her knees. Annie makes a surprised sound in the back of her throat and he hesitates until she tugs him forward.

It's a weird taste: slick, sort of insubstantial, but not bad. His tongue flits against her and Annie jolts, pushing him back. Eren looks up at her, perplexed. Annie just shakes her head, looking faintly overwhelmed. He glances back to the matter at hand and licks his lips. "Jaeger," she groans, and she's definitely blushing now; the scene is surreal as it is good.

"What?" he asks, surprised at how rough his voice sounds. "Did I do something wrong?"

Her gaze is dark and piercing, colour swallowed up by her pupils. "No." He glances down thoughtfully; she grips his shoulder, pushing him back. "That's enough," she stresses, "for now."

For now. Eren is still giddy with the notion.

"You're still dressed," she notes, sitting up.

"Hunh? Oh, yeah." Hastily rucking his trousers past his hips without bothering to discard them—he should have taken his shirt off—and he is very aware of her scrutiny in a way that unnerves and intrigues him.

"Do you want me to touch it?"

She won't look at him, though; does he repulse her? "I guess," he mutters tetchily, and bites back a gasp as she starts working him over with a reckless efficiency that belies her own inexperience, quieting him with her palm against his mouth. He feels her lips press to his throat. She hasn't stopped touching him, though—the only concrete thought he can string together is that this is a hundred times better than when he does it himself, maybe too good—shit, I'm not gonna last—in a panic, Eren grabs her wrist.

"Stop that," he hisses. Annie looks up sharply, and he clarifies: "I-I mean—you should put it in you now, right?"

There's a pause. The air between them is heavy, so he peels his shirt off.

"O.K.," Annie says, "c'mere."

Before Eren can think twice, she grips him firm, and he sidles up against her. She's warm, he thinks, then swallows hard: "Go—go on." His voice cracks terrifically but she doesn't seem to notice. Annie looks up, flushed and hazy-eyed, like she's waiting for him to chicken out. Eren rolls his hips to assure her—she gasps and bites her lip hard, leaning away. With a shudder, Eren grabs her waist and puts one leg astride his hip; her heel catches the small of his back as she falls to meet the ground, taking him with her.

She was already warm enough on the outside, but this is almost too much to bear. He gasps, composure slipping—with a horrible thrill he thinks he might have come already—but he manages, somehow, to hold together. Annie, remarkably less dramatic than him, only grunts, her brows knitted as though in pain or consternation, but she hasn't told him off or asked him to pull out yet, so maybe she needs to adjust? The thought makes his head spin and he twitches again.

"Jaeger," she huffs.

Already it's a struggle to think. "What?" he pants, as his hands curl to fists on either side of her head. "Does—does it hurt?"

She frowns. "No."

"O.K.," he breathes, by this point equally smitten as he is ashamed for even the thought of having injured her inadvertently.

Her lips part in a lazy facsimile of a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "If you're that concerned, you can—" he presses into her unsteadily, and she groans. Her hands find purchase in his hair and she's nipping at his jaw, rolling her hips with this air of aggression that he never envisioned a purpose for outside of fights—but with her, somehow, it makes more sense. And she feels … good, now that he's not so afraid to move; the tension never truly leaves his stomach, not sickening like stress but insistent, driving him forward.

He sits up so they're nearly perpendicular. Annie gazes longingly after him and he wants to laugh, it's so unlike her. He doubts he can manage anything resembling a coherent sentence, keenly aware of her eyes on him as he brings his hips back to push in smoothly. Annie sighs and contracts, makes his head spin again, so he does this a few more times until he accidentally slips out—her attention snaps to him, hawkish, and Eren mutters a hasty apology—but she doesn't seem to care that much until he pushes in again: This time she hisses, grabbing his shoulders.

"Annie?"

"It's fine," she snaps, grimacing; but he doesn't move. Annie scowls up at him. "Come on, Jaeger."

She's a smaller frame than he realised. He can think about this but not deeply, pressing her to the ground in a more strange and intimate way than any fight, but her bind chafes against his stomach and her nipples brush his skin, her chest expands with air—this moment, right here, is nearly enough. "Goddam it," she hisses, squirming, "you don't even know what you're doi—h-hunh," trailing off into a quieter series of grunts as he begins to move with more confidence, and she brings her leg up accordingly. Feels like they're working together, this new sensation that leaves him overheated and taut in his own skin, but he chases after it. Finds it's difficult to focus on any one part of her for too long; everywhere they touch, it only amplifies the warmth coming off her own skin and his, and she's breathing heavier, slicker than before, and he doesn't want to stop moving, not for anything, not even the threat of Shadis (at least, in the moment) could make him think twice about it.

"F-fuck, Jaeger!" she grits out, blushing the longer he looks at her; he thrusts, and she screws her eyes shut with a shaky, girlish groan that's much unlike her. Something about that makes him uneasy again, and he stutters to a halt.

"Hunh? Am I—does it hurt, I can—" he reaches down to grasp himself, but her legs close around his waist and he feels trapped.

"Eren." Her voice is hushed. He's nearly sick with guilt before she beckons him down, takes his head in her hands. "Eren," she says again, almost confused, "you—you won't hurt me." It's the first time he can recall that she's referred to him by anything other than his surname. At a loss for what to do, he kisses her cheek. Pulling back, Annie bites her lip; he kisses her nose, her pale mouth, then her brow, trying to convey his feelings in a way she can't immediately dismiss. She rolls her hips to let him know where she stands, wraps an arm 'round his neck, gasps: "Faster."

Eren takes this as a personal challenge and sets the pace; rougher, clumsy with his own desire and newly-acknowledged affection, and Annie's not pliant, using her own body to guide him, wordlessly, into some semblance of rhythm. If he squints, he can try to watch her lashes flutter and her breath quicken, to take in every little shudder that affects her and know that he's done that to her, really done it. A quiet thrill chasing up the ridges of his spine, and the same warmth pools deep in his tightening stomach and the notion coils around his brain like smoke or some tenuous, begotten promise: you won't hurt me.

By now, her cool façade has already fractured (he's earning little noises, a grunt or a breathy gasp between thrusts) and she doesn't look pained—abruptly, she moans, twisting away but Eren pulls her flush to him, mouth open upon her pale throat. And it's all so sudden, too much—he bucks into her groin where he feels a pulse, and her heels grind insistently into his back until he growls, pins her to the ground like he means it this time.

Annie snarls over his name, writhing up against him, and her eyes are fierce and bright and her hair fans out beneath her like a small, untidy halo. Her teeth are bared, somewhere between a grin and a grimace, it's always hard to tell with her. He makes a futile attempt to slow down and manages for a second or two until she squeezes him viciously—eliciting a breathy shout from her in another thrust that scuffs up the dirt beneath them, and another and another, another and it feels like his whole body is wound as taut as possible until something snaps—hits him like a physical blow and his knees give out—she hisses sharply at the change in weight. Trembling, he feels her arms come around his back like reflex—with his head to her breast, he can hear her heart pounding madly, wonders if she can feel his too.

He can't tell whether she came or not. He feels strangely responsible. "Sorry," he mumbles after a pause. "I should've, uh."

"Hm?"

He's lost most of the good feeling by now and wants to pull out, but doesn't. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." Eren isn't sure what kind of answer he was expecting, really. He wonders if she'll let him kiss her. "Oi, Jaeger." He must have been obvious, he thinks, because there's a subtle quirk to her mouth as she draws him down. Their noses touch, and she won't say a word, gazing intently at him. Eren finds himself at a loss for what to do if not study her—she's still flushed, sinuous and naked beneath him, real enough in the hard light, little strands of blonde hair drifting apart from the whole.

Hesitant to break the silence, he moves in to kiss her cheek. She tilts her head just-so, and their lips connect; amused, he tilts his head, mumbling into her jaw: "What?"

She doesn't reply, just initiates another real kiss, wrapping her legs loose about his waist without encircling him completely. A pleasant little tingle races down his spine and he wonders if this is all just a dream.

But it isn't a dream, it can't be, because Annie huffs against his mouth and lunges up without warning, throwing her full weight against his chest in such a way that he's impelled backwards with seemingly little effort on her part. It catches him off guard, and Eren's halfway between surprise and amusement, because he probably should have anticipated something like this from her anyway—until his head smacks the edge of one of the crates.

"OW!" he barks, looking up at her as though betrayed, eyes watering with pain. Annie just hums from her new perch in his lap.

"You shouldn't let your guard down."

"Goddam it, Annie." He rubs his scalp where it throbs. She huffs. There's a pause where Eren continues to glower at her.

"You're not bleeding?"

"Why should you care?"

Annie rolls her eyes. "C'mere." He holds still while she scores her fingers through his hair, winces once she finds the spot; it still stings. "You aren't bleeding," she notes, lets him go.

"Forget about it—what about the others?" he says, still prickling. "What about Shadis?"

"You think he gives a shit?" When Eren stares at her, she shifts about in his lap and adds, seriously: "If anyone cared that much, they would have found us by now."

This doesn't really make him feel better, but he tries not to let on. "Yeah, well. It's a long walk back from here to the camp, you know."

"Mm," says Annie.

"So," he says, "we ought to get a move on before someone finds us."

She shrugs. "Fair enough." Dismounts him with a little grunt; he curses, starts fumbling around for his chinos. They redress hastily, in silence. He's just got his belt back on when the door opens.

"O.K., we'll sta—"

Eren yelps and freezes where he is; Annie, thankfully, already has her shirt and trousers back on but hisses something like: "Shut up, Jaeger."

"Oh, for God's sake," the instructor groans—not Shadis, thank God. "What's the—actually, you know what, I don't want to hear it. What are your names, cadets?"

"E-Eren, sir. Eren Jaeger."

"Annie Leonhardt."

The man draws a sigh. "All right. You have five minutes to make yourselves presentable, and then we're going to report this to Shadis. Understood? No, Richter," he snaps, blocking the door with his body; one of the cadets is evidently trying to peer past him.

"What is it? Who's in there?"

"Are you going to arrest them, sir?"

"Step away from the door, I said—"

Annie's gone quiet, flushed again. Eren wishes he knew how to console her, but suddenly dying during the ODM gear exam doesn't sound too bad, either.

[CREDITS]

Scenario adapted from the original doujin: "THAT DAY", by ソーヤー [NSFW]

English translation of said doujin/lettering by: xmdath

a/n: One-and-done; get ready for the rising action!

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