Reiner laughs again when he hears Bertolt's whine, slinging his arm around his shoulders once he is done sucking beer off his hand, pulling him back into his shoulder. It has always been this way; no matter how far apart they are when they start drinking, by the time they are well into their cups, Bertolt always ends up practically inside his back pocket.
And, you know, a little later Bertolt usually ends up inside of regions a little more south-west of his back pocket.
The drink, shitty though it may be, has finally eased the ever present tension between Reiner's brows, bringing a flush to his cheekbones, giving him a bit more boyish look.
"You're hot too," he returns the compliment rather shamelessly, his eyes crawling over Marco's frame for a moment in a way that indicates he sure isn't thinking of body temperature, even as his arm slides down from Bertolt's shoulder to rest against his back instead, his fingers sinking into the back pocket of his best friend's pants.
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Date: 2014-07-20 10:56 am (UTC)And, you know, a little later Bertolt usually ends up inside of regions a little more south-west of his back pocket.
The drink, shitty though it may be, has finally eased the ever present tension between Reiner's brows, bringing a flush to his cheekbones, giving him a bit more boyish look.
"You're hot too," he returns the compliment rather shamelessly, his eyes crawling over Marco's frame for a moment in a way that indicates he sure isn't thinking of body temperature, even as his arm slides down from Bertolt's shoulder to rest against his back instead, his fingers sinking into the back pocket of his best friend's pants.