JAWS (Complete)

Chapter 2

*Bidding war*

Reiner drives home in a daze, barely aware of Historia and Ymir chattering away across the car. He can't remember the last time he felt like this: dazed, his head spinning, unable to focus. And yet, at the same time, the light from the street lamps seems to be sharper than normal; Historia's perfume lingers in the back of his nose, flowery and delicate; the sound of Ymir shifting and rustling in the backseat sends minute vibrations through the car. Distantly, Reiner realizes that he's hungry.

"Reiner?"

"Hmmm?" They're at a light, and he turns to look at Historia, blinking a few times and trying to clear his head.

"I asked if you were okay." Historia's perfectly shaped brows are drawn down in concern. "You're not mad, are you?"

"What? No, I'm not mad." He's a lot of things right now-confused, aching, weirdly aware of everything around him-but Reiner isn't mad. How can he be, when the image of Jaws' flexible hips and flashing hazel eyes is seared into his mind?

"You're so quiet..."

"He's storing up materials in the spank bank!" Ymir leans her arms over the back of the front seat, grinning out of the side of her mouth at Reiner. "Aren't you? That was a feisty little number you chose!"

Historia pokes her head around Ymir, a look of vague hope writ across her face. "He was really cute, Reiner, did you like him?"

He smiles then, how can he not, and nods. "Yes. I liked him."

Ymir whoops obnoxiously, and slaps the back of Reiner's shoulder. "See, I told you! A lap dance is for what ails you!"

"Should I buy you one the next time you're feeling under the weather?" Reiner asks sweetly, and drives the rest of the way to their apartment building unmolested while the two ladies bicker with each other about the ethics of lap dances while in a relationship. Ymir is surprisingly prudish about this concept, much to Reiner's delight, while Historia takes a more pragmatic approach.

"But it's all an act. It's not like it's anything real," she says as Reiner pulls into his marked, private parking spot. It's one of the nicer buildings in downtown Trost, with underground parking, and while Historia and Ymir have a car, it's usually Reiner who ends up driving. "You can't call it cheating if there's nothing behind it!"

"I just don't like it, okay!" Ymir climbs out of the backseat, and rolls her eyes at Reiner. Look what you've got me into, and Reiner shrugs unapologetically. Better to have this discussion now instead of later, he figures.

He walks the ladies to the elevator, and rides with them to the fourteenth floor. When the door chimes politely and opens for them, Historia pauses long enough to turn around and put her arms up for a hug. Reiner obliges, remembering too late that he's still sporting a pretty hefty erection, and doesn't twist away soon enough. It presses, ever so briefly, against Historia's hip, and her eyes are wide when they draw apart.

"Oh," she says, and chews at her lower lip for a moment. "I... goodness, no wonder we didn't work out!"

Reiner can't help it; he laughs into his hand, ducking his head so she can't see his smile. "Sorry. If it's any consolation, it's not for you."