a/n: A canon-friendly relationship study that… well, isn't very canonical. I do like the dynamic between Eren and Reiner, regardless.

The door to the flat opened, and all the words he ought to have said died in his throat. The scrappy, wiry boy he remembered from four years—or was it six?—had since grown into his limbs and now regarded him coolly. He'd grown his hair out to his shoulders without deigning to cut it short since leaving the hospice.

"I got your letter." He did not add that he'd confiscated it.

Eren's smile twisted up his mouth like a scar. "Hello, Vice-Commander." His eyes were more grey than green. "I didn't think you'd come."

"Yeah, well, it's just my luck, ain't it."

Grice was far too trusting of others for his own good. They'd have a talk about loyalties once he got back. In the present, he only scoffed, stepped over the threshold, kicked the door shut with his heel.

Eren was already milling about with the crutch—every other step signaled by a dull thud on wood. He was at the mirror now, and he cursed under his breath. "What?" said Reiner.

"My eye's coming back in again. I'll have to fix it," Eren said languidly. Without looking up from the mirror, he added: "You could, for me."

"Fix your eye?"

"Yeah." Eren turned back towards him with a wolfish grin. "It's not as difficult as you'd think, once you get used to it."

"What the fuck's wrong in your head?"

The quiet was sickening, like running over a bloated corpse in the road and watching its organs rupture and the flies spill out en masse. Eren's shoulders sagged to the point of surrender. He wet his lips, a strained hush coming into his voice. "It's maddening, you know. I can't feel anything anymore except in my leg." He glanced back to the mirror, kept him in his peripherals. "You understand. That's why you're still here."

Even when he was disarmed, bedraggled, his reflection's gaze still bored into Reiner. Reiner's mouth was a thin line. "Someone's going to ask who did this to you."

"I'm not in hospice anymore."

Reiner sneered to mask his own unease. "Can't take care of it yourself?"

"That's what I usually do, yeah. Like I said, it doesn't hurt." His eyes glittered. "I'll show you." He put his hand up to his face.

Reiner had heard enough. He crossed the space between them in three strides, snatched Eren's wrist. "You won't do shit if you're smart."

Reiner had thicker digits and a strong grip. Eren glanced at his hand, then back to his face. "I didn't think you would actually come over here." An earnest smile curled his lips, touched his eyes. "So I guess you'll put my eye out, now." Reiner was cupping his face, though he didn't seem to notice that he was doing so. Eren swallowed dryly. "I can command you, if you'd rather not think about it."

Reiner's eyes narrowed. He shrugged out of his jacket, covered Eren's mouth instead and if he felt the smile on his palm, he said nothing. His thumb pressed down light enough to be unpleasant; Eren's lips parted slightly.

"Are you gonna bite me, this time?" Reiner growled. His own voice confused him, harsh, almost goading.

Eren huffed. His breath caught when Reiner started to push down. His nails were blunted, so it took some effort 'til his eye popped, oozing out 'round his thumb; Eren, muffling a serrated, dragging groan, dug his teeth into the meat of Reiner's palm, unwilling to pierce the skin.

Reiner said nothing, watching the blood stream down his wrist. Eren was mouthing something else against his skin, dragging his own thumb against the slope of his wrist in spite of the blood. Reiner only hesitated once he realised he was trembling, too.

He took his hand away and watched the blood turn to steam off his skin. Eren was already limping over to the end-table, hand over his face, breathing deliberately. He began to staunch the wound without ceremony, quick, methodical.

"Thanks," he said, already reapplying the cloth bandaging. "You have to really get in there. It'll start regenerating, otherwise."

By now Reiner had his jacket back on. "That's all you wanted, is it?"

Eren paused. "What is it that you think I wanted?" Reiner eyed the door. Eren was looking at him steadily. "Miss the sound of my voice?" Reiner, having seen enough for one day, turned towards the door. "Reiner," Eren said. "I'll talk, if that's what you want."

He knew better. That wasn't why he stopped in the doorway. "You would've saved us all a helluva lot more trouble if you'd stayed home where you belonged."

"Maybe so." Quiet flooded the room again, coagulated. Reiner had one heel set against the door. Eren straightened up, eying him curiously. "You're still here."

"Ain't no point in talking. If I get any more word about your letters, I'll have to pay another visit."

Eren said nothing more.