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Bertholdt’s attention was torn from the ocean when he heard the rustling of clothes. He chanced a furtive glance to his left where Reiner was stood, his eyebrows shooting up his hairline when he saw the other start peeling off his clothes.
“What are you doing?” Bertholdt asked dumbly, his eyes scanning their surroundings– not a single person to be seen. Still.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Reiner shrugged nonchalantly, now half nude and tugging at his belt. Bertholdt felt instant heat rise to his cheeks but he bit the urge to stammer.
“Suit yourself.”
“Oh, come on. it’s no fun to do it on my own.” Reiner whined with a pout on his lips, “when was the last time you had fun?”
Years ago, when we were stranded on that island, remember? And even then, it hasn’t been as easy for me because you haven’t been yourself most of the time.
Even if he wanted to, Bertholdt couldn’t find it in him to sour Reiner’s chirpy mood. It was rare to see Reiner be this laid back, even rarer for Bertholdt to feel a forgotten, almost repressed familiarity. And doubtless, a longing.
So, he silently shrugged off his military coat, feeling a liberating thrill at taking off his armband when outside. His fingers stilled on his own belt when his gaze flickered to Reiner’s bare backside as the other struggled with one leg of his pants, a frustrated grunt escaping his lips. Bertholdt looked again for any human presence in the vicinity, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead.
He valued modesty and decency, just as he knew Reiner did. But if Reiner decided to forego his own rules, so could Bertholdt. Besides, it’s been a long while since he had a single moment to relax. To breathe, forget everything that had went wrong and might go wrong in his life, and be himself.
So Bertholdt unfastened his belt and the fly of his pants before shimming it down along with his undergarments in one fluid motion.
He didn’t miss the way Reiner cheeks went pink despite the darkness that surrounded them, when his gaze flitted between his legs. Bertholdt’s own cheeks went the same delightful color when Reiner smiled at him timidly– the rarest of the sights– before murmuring softly, “come on.”
Reiner ahead of him, Bertholdt following him on his heels– it had always been the case. For a long time Bertholdt found comfort of being swept by the current, being led instead of leading. But god did he love when he and Reiner took tentative steps toward the ocean, together and side by side, even if he wished he could muster even more courage to reach for the other’s hand, hold it tightly in his own and never let go.
And then, as if with the snap of fingers, everything seemed to fall back in place.
Bertholdt breathing a sigh in relief as soon as the cold water of the ocean touched his feverish skin. Reiner hissing because it was too cold for him, and he was always cold.
Bertholdt leaving his worries and troubles behind them, where his Marleyan uniform was folded neatly on the sand next to Reiner’s own crumpled pile. Bertholdt believing– or trying to believe– that Reiner did the same when he dived underwater before re-emerging shortly, his heartfelt laughter pulling at his heartstrings.
The soothing feeling of water against his face and the comforting silence of the ocean.
Reiner diving again and swimming toward him before they both swim back to the surface, faces inches apart from each other.
The warmth Bertholdt feels blooming inside him when Reiner reaches forward and tames his eyebrows with the pads of his thumbs because he knows how much Bertholdt obsesses over its neatness each time he goes underwater.
The glint of mischief and of longing Bertholdt can perfectly read in Reiner’s amber eyes, when finished with his earlier task but refusing to step further away from Bertholdt, his hands now resting on his bare shoulders.
Bertholdt's heart skyrocketing when he thinks Reiner would lean in and kiss him. His disappointment when he doesn’t. Bertholdt’s wish to be brave and bold enough to do it himself, reminiscent of all the other times this same pulling and pushing happened over and over again, be it in their homeland, or on the other side of the ocean.
Despite the bittersweetness of the moment, Bertholdt treasures it still. Because it’s their one stolen moment away from their hectic lives and their duties.
Even if they eventually swim back to the shore, hearts heavy again as they put back on their uniforms, and with it their armors, Bertholdt won’t forget a time he and Reiner weren’t warriors, or soldiers. Or Eldians or Honorary Marleyans.
Just two people who wanted so much that they couldn’t have from the world but still tried to.