Work Text:
In the midst of autumn the air has a pleasant earthy aroma, complemented by the scent that permeates after rainfall. There’s always a chilly breeze, which is a relief after a scorching summer. The trees are saying their peaceful goodbyes before braving the winter ahead, losing their bright colored leaves and creating a nourishing mulch for next year.
Amongst the trees sits a small, run down house with a clearing for agriculture and animals nearby. The yard is full of various tools and useful scraps, as well as a rusted old car that fails to start up. The front deck is just as cluttered, though the space around the porch swing is kept clear.
The swing sways gently in the wind, soothing the sleeping man lying on it. Between unconsciousness and awareness, he listens to the soft swooshing of the remaining tree leaves and the chatter of wild animals. Behind closed eyes he watches stippled light dance with shadows, tinted an orangey hue by his eyelids. Every breath is crisp and rejuvenating.
Far off into the distance, the distinct crunching of leaves under boots catches his attention. The source of the sound grows closer until he hears a crash of sorts, like logs tumbling down in the yard. Those boots then approach the stairs leading to the porch, making a louder clunking sound on the solid wood. The man opens his eyes to see his companion standing over him, a neutral expression on his dirtied face.
He sits up and looks around, slight confusion apparent on his features. He looks up to the only recognizable figure for guidance. His companion frowns, understanding what has happened. He sighs before speaking.
“Do you know where you are?” He asks quietly, trying to be gentle so as to not frighten the other.
The seated man presses his lips together before shaking his head.
“No, where are we?” He enquirers, off put by the fact he can’t identify his surroundings.
The tall man bends down on one knee to speak face to face with the other, taking hold of one of his hands.
“A life just for us, Reiner.” He tries to smile, an obvious sadness growing in him.
Reiner still looks confused, looking into Bertholdt’s eyes for more answers. Bertholdt looks down to the hand in his, tracing his thumb over rough knuckles.
“We ran away together, at least, in this world we did.” He calmly reminds the blonde. “It’s all thanks to Eren, we get to spend a little more time together.” His voice grows mousy. “This is our home.”
One piece at a time, the memories of this life come back, along with a heavy knot in his chest. The guilt sinks in for making Bertholdt bring up their reality again, as this is a fairly common occurrence.
“Oh, right.” He remarks quietly. He brings his other hand to Bertholdt’s, prompting him to look back up at his now troubled expression. “I’m sorry.” He struggles to hold eye contact.
Bertholdt exhales as if to release what burdened him moments ago, looking away to refresh himself before consoling Reiner.
“Let’s go inside.” He suggests, his smile growing to be genuine rather than forced. After staring at each other, Reiner nods, permitting the two of them to stand and head inside.
The interior is lived in but pleasant, wood and tile flooring with a glossy finish, as well as tasteful furniture. There’s one main living space which consists of the kitchen on one side and a bedroom of sorts on the other. A door on the kitchen side branches off to the bathroom, providing reasonable privacy and cleanliness. The walls are partially lined with shelves and other surfaces, stuffed with books and random treasures. Among the shelves is a spot designated for a record player with space to store vinyl underneath.
Bertholdt goes straight to the player, rifling through numerous records before finding the one he wants. He lifts the needle, removing the disc from its paper sleeve and placing it on the turntable, lowering the needle back down on the spinning record. It crackles to life with the beginning track of ‘The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan’. He lowers the volume to create subtle background noise to listen to while maintaining their home.
Meanwhile, Reiner had already started on dishes he noticed needed taken care of, setting them aside to be put away once dry. Bertholdt sneaks up beside him, trying to gather dirty towels to be washed. As he carries on he trails a hand across Reiner's back, slow and affectionate. Reiner looks over his shoulder to the coy man, noticing his face still has dirty smudges from his outside chores.
“Wait, c’mere.” He rinses his hands. Bertholdt moves at the blonde's command, still holding on to the small basket of towels.
Reiner reaches his wet hands up to his cheeks, wiping the dirt off and drying it with his sleeve.
“Thats better.” He flirts, leaning in to lay a brief kiss on Bertholdt’s lips. He lingers, the two of them staring into eyes that seem to grow deeper with every second. A sweet smile spreads across Bertholdt’s lips as his expression softens, setting down the basket of towels. He brings a hand to Reiner's face, cupping it endearingly while the other finds the shorter man’s hip. The two draw closer, making tender contact at the stomach and hips, growing warm in each other's presence. Reiner glances at the sink, concerned about returning to his chore.
“Our tasks can wait.” Bertholdt persuades, low, smooth, and confident; his hips subtly sway side to side. “Care to dance?” He entices.
Reiner wears a shy smile, the usually hardened man flustered by his lover's advances.
“I need to dry my hands.” He admits awkwardly, embracing Bertholdt without the use of his hands to keep his shirt dry.
A small giggle escapes the taller man as he releases his hold, allowing the blonde to dry off. He takes a slightly damp hand into his own, leading Reiner closer to the record player. Gently, he twists the volume knob to a pleasantly filling level, not too loud but not too quiet. Returning to his lover, he rests his hands low on the blonde's waist, firm and protective of the man he cherishes most. He keeps his eyes fixed on the other's face, admiring the masculine features sheathed by fragile, near see-through, pale skin. Supposedly contradictory, but perfectly coherent on him.
Reiner lifts his arms to drape them over tall shoulders, locking the two together for an intimate dance. They sway side to side, following the enthused Bertholdt’s lead, feeling out the energy of each song. Though, every song is fairly gentle, simply a man, his guitar, and his harmonica. He speaks of love and grief, as well as commentary on the world around him; both bitter and accepting. These themes resonate with the two of them, most of their lives tainted with mourning and political unrest. It’s been a favorite album they’ve long shared.
Through the songs of heavier tone and lyrics they allow themselves quiet, near still, introspection, averting their eyes from one another to have mental privacy. Because even amongst joy, intimacy, comfort, and love, there will always be something dark to confront. Unresolved anger, spiraling grief, crippling disappointment, all consuming fear. They’ve come to understand that even in a perfect world, there would be no happiness without its unpleasant twin, or more accurately, second face: sadness.
However, just like all other things, those feelings can’t last forever. The tender, much gentler and even playful songs bring them to each other. They gain confidence, their movements and grips loosening with lively energy. Their feet move in an (almost) coordinated square, going along with mistakes and allowing the music to guide the intensity.
The second to last track is a jovial plea for a girl to take Bob back, coaxing a giggle from the two men. They separate, tethered by their hands as they kick and spin about the room, laughing like small children. Bertholdt guides the other with an outstretched arm, spinning him like royalty before letting go, catching him from behind. He holds him tight, bending down to plant a kiss on his cheek, then releasing his arms to let Reiner face him. Restless, they share a passionate kiss, their smiles uncontainable and tangible to the other. Bertholdt notices the song coming to an end and subtly leads them towards the player without breaking contact, fumbling around to find the power button and pressing it.
Reiner understands where they’re going, pulling away to let out a laugh that spreads to his lover, who shyly chuckles at the realization of his own actions. Even so, he continues to urge Reiner towards their shared bed. Stumbling over each other's feet, their lips meet again for a now eager, aggressive kiss, deep and demanding. Reiner falls backwards and collides with the mattress, Bertholdt following closely as he struggles to take off his heavy boots.