note:

+ this chapter has been updated to comply with FFN. sorry the inconvenience. you can find the full by searching for my account (under "pseudocitrus") on archive of our own. :)

Obstacle Course

Night was falling fast, and the lanterns strung up in the canopy around the obstacle course were on by the time they made it back. It was cold and Mikasa pulled her scarf more tightly around her neck. As they walked her vehemence faded, partly because Eren was so morose, and partly because they passed the tree where Eren had crashed into Annie.

Don't worry about that, she thought. What if Eren gets dropped completely out of training? And yet, what if he stayed in training…and began to concentrate not just on titans, but on Annie as well? Her insides twisted.

Don't ask, something in her urged, not now, not when he needs to concentrate on this, but she knew — she didn't want to ask, not out of consideration for him, but fear. She didn't want to know. But if she didn't fight…

They made it to the courses starting point. She sucked in a breath. "Eren," she started, turning around, "do you —"

He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the rings, eyes sharp. His tongue flicked against his lips. She swallowed.

"What?" he said suddenly. "Did you say something?"

"No." She spun around, heart racing. "Let's do it together. Follow me. Ready?"

"Rea —" The hiss of her gear's steam interrupted him. "Wh — Mika — augh!"

She was gone already, a distant spot in the canopy, and Eren fumbled with the gear — the hook shot off — he felt the satisfying clunk reverberate down the wire to his legs — and then he was off, through the first ring with little trouble, and then higher. His blood raced as they raced higher into the trees. Second ring — check. Third ring — his ankle clipped the edge of it and he spun slightly, and, with effort, recovered — check! Just two more left!

The fourth ring was reachable by swinging all the way around the trunk of a giant tree, the breadth of which was similar to a 15-meter class titan. He searched for Mikasa's shadow so as not to bump into her — he couldn't find her — was she so far ahead that he couldn't even see her anymore? How was he supposed to follow her?

"Mikasa!" he yelled out, "where are you?"

"Here!"

He looked up, and saw her — a streak in the sky — the next ring was ahead of him but as he watched she spun up, gliding around the trees like a bird — or better — elegant, fluid. She shot her hooks into a tree and swung in a perfect arc into the center of the next ring. She spun through effortlessly, released, soared into the air without any wires at all, free, beautiful, and as he watched he crashed into a tree.

He screamed.

"Eren?!" Mikasa shouted, and spun in the air, but she was too late — she saw Eren pinwheeling through the air, reaching for branches, catching, slipping, failing — he crashed into the bushes and then continued screaming.

"Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!"

"Eren!" She landed on the ground nearby him. He was thrashing in the bush — not to escape, she realized with relief, but just to take out his frustration. No seriously injured person could destroy a bush that effectively. Mikasa watched grimly as his thrashings eventually reduced the majority of the bush to bare twigs and leaves pinched and torn in his hair and harness.

"Are you finished?" she asked when he finally stilled, and he said nothing, only panted, now fully tangled up in the bush. Mikasa stepped forward and grabbed his arm to pull him out.

"No! Don't —"

But she dragged his cringing body out anyway, and patted it down, checking for blood, for bones. His hands shot down between his legs and Mikasa's eyes widened.

"Y-you're hurt — there —?"

"No!" Eren shouted, horrified, and then shut his eyes. He couldn't hide it anymore. "I — I —"

But he couldn't bring himself to divulge it either. He groaned and rolled over.

"Eren," Mikasa tried, seeing him struggle, "there's — there's no reason to be ashamed —"

"There is!" he shouted. "How am I supposed to fight titans like — like this? How am I supposed to get through that course when I keep thinking about —?"

He bit his words back, shook his head. "This stupid — this stupid gear isn't even —" He began to shove at it, trying to take it off. "It's not even — broken —"

He yelped as the 3D suddenly shot off a hook. Mikasa stepped to the side and looked down. There was a wire where her knee had been. She looked back at Eren, who had paled.

"Sorry — sorry, Mikasa — I just — augh!" He kicked the gear off, but incorrectly — the harness twisted and he yelled again as his leg twisted with it, and stuck in place, awkward, trapped by the criss-crossing wires. He continued struggling and in moments had completely trussed himself up beyond freeing.

"Dammit," he hissed, wagging his fingers at the harness release, which was centimeters away from his fingertips. His jacket was too small, prevented his hand from crossing the last centimeters. His shirt had rode up, showing skin. He was flushed. Mikasa swallowed.

"So this isn't about Annie." Annie wasn't anywhere nearby at all.

"What? What did you say?" One of his ears was on the ground, and the other was covered by his arm. Mikasa walked over and knelt over him, studying the harness.

"Mikasa? What are you doing? Help me!"

"Do you really want me to help?" she asked.

"What?"

She slipped her finger beneath the strap tying his elbow. It snapped — not free, but into a new knot — Eren's eyes widened as he was suddenly yanked flat onto his back, hands over his head.

"You want me to help you out?" She flicked the harness again and Eren gasped as his knees sprang apart.

"M-Mi — Mi-mi-ka —"

His eyes were wide, and watching her. Watching her. Her hands shook slightly as they slid over his belt. Eren watched her, mouth dry and agape.

"Wh…wh-what are you —"

"Titans," Mikasa reminded him sharply.

"Mi — kaaahh…" Mikasa's hand slid against him — lightly, lightly — but he felt it through his entire body — he gasped. Encouraged, Mikasa continued. Eren's arms strained against the harness, hands opening and fisting. She pressed her hands against his chest to feel his fast breath, his fast heart. Her body was getting warm and she released her 3D gear, shrugged off her jacket.

"Mika…" He wanted to tell her to get off him — he was horrified — that she had read him so easily, that she was moving over him with the same elegance with which he had seen her go through the trees. Deliberate — confident — no extra motion. She pressed her body against him, measured, slow — she watched him shudder and then pushed into him, gently — angled. Oh. She inhaled slowly, trembled.

She was different — her body was so much more different than what his brain had guessed that others' bodies would be like, not all of it squishy softness but some of it firm, and so full of electricity. Her fingers were spread and dragged ten lines of static up his belly, his chest, so lightly that it didn't disturb his bruises or scratches. It spread and sank into his skin, his muscle. He spasmed against the harness again, hands trembling. He struggled to keep breathing evenly. He shut his eyes —

She leaned onto his knees, taking the pressure off — he inhaled sharply in alarm and when he opened his eyes Mikasa was leaning over him, dark hair brushing his brow. It caught in beads of sweat there.

He looked up at her, eyes glazed, seeing her. She held her hands to either side of his face, keeping his eyes on hers. Her lips gleamed.

"Say it again."

"Ah...huh?"

"Say my name again."

He swallowed. His cheeks were tinged. "Mikasa," he managed finally, glancing away and down, but she tipped his face to hers again and leaned toward him slowly, slowly, meeting her lips with his, even, and then tasting them separate, feeling the trembling shape of his upper lip and biting lightly the lower one.

Some part of him writhed inside, and when he said her name it seemed to echo in him. Mikasa. Mikasa. Who had been by his side his entire life, it seemed, who was the last real lingering part of his old home left. It startled him to feel himself straining against the harness, to escape, not to leave her but to be closer, closer, much closer than she allowed him. She was so light — and he wanted — wanted — he jerked his head up to kiss her back, but met her mouth with such force that their front teeth clicked together. He flushed but she ignored his embarrassment, pulled his head up closer to hers, making a cradle of her fingers.

He felt that he should be disconcerted to have his fantasies materialize into her, but she clearly had no such qualms, and against her hands and mouth it felt natural, and soon he was hardly able to think about anything. She kissed his throat, sucked ardently, and with every patch of skin she touched he felt himself weakened, drawn out of the little ball that he'd been forcing himself into the past few days, his little shell of shame and frustration. She found and extracted it from him as easy as she swung from branch to branch.

She inhaled his staggered breath until she felt him relax against her. She withdrew from him with a little suck, with a line of saliva she swept away with a circle of her tongue. His chest rose and fell beneath her arms. She realized her breath was fast and caught it.

"Feel better?"

His lips pursed. He looked away. "Let me go," he murmured, and Mikasa's heart shook. Nothing? No response? She thought she had reached him. She thought she had finally touched him — but there he was again, eyes turned away from her. She unclenched her fingers and ripped the strap off of his wrist, and as she shoved herself off the ground she lost her balance and tripped again as Eren grabbed her hand.

"Er —?"

He yanked her down on him, gasping as she fell on him again, her weight delicious, her body arranging around his perfectly.

"Mikasa," he gasped, "I — I want —"

He couldn't finish. The harness was too tight — it was squeezing the air from his lungs — his left arm was still caught. He shook it furiously, but the straps and buckles whipped his arms and rattled and kept him, and finally Mikasa shoved the straps off over his shoulder, unhooked them from his elbow, and then shoved off his jacket and tugged his shirt fiercely over his head. There was a tearing noise — a rustle as the shirt hit what remained of the bushes — he gasped as Mikasa's hands fell over him, not light as before but hard, pressing greedily into his skin.

:::

Some time later, Eren fell back and Mikasa fell on top of him, both of them exhausted, panting. She felt like her body had unraveled, and she was too tired to collect the pieces of it, to roll herself back up into her tight facade. For the first time she felt the chill breeze, and realized the sun had fallen completely.

"Mikasa," Eren whispered, and she straightened to meet his gaze. His eyes glistened in the lantern light as he looked at her. He was grinning.

"What is it, Eren?"

"Ah…thanks. That is...I…I think I can do it now. The course."

She smiled. "Good."

:::

And he did. Armin and everyone else watched in shock as Eren finished the course perfectly, whooping even, and throwing in a messy spin through the last ring.

"You're amazing, Mikasa," Armin breathed. "We should have just forced him to practice with you much earlier."

"Yeah," she agreed, watching as Eren started to run the course backwards despite Shadis's yelling that he had already done enough.

"It would have saved us a couple laps. Well, probably a couple dozen. Or a hundred." Armin sighed and then sighed with relief. "You know, I was kind of nervous he wouldn't pass after all when Eren came back to the barracks last and had all those bruises on his neck. He probably crashed into a dozen trees."

"Yeah…something like that."

"And just in time for all of us to start sword practice! I think we're going to start this afternoon. You know," he said thoughtfully, "since you're already good at it…maybe we should just skip classes and train with you."

She glanced over at him, amused. "If you like. I won't take it easy on you, though."