Archive of Our Own

This is a view Levi’s grown used to over the last several months.

Erwin, sun-kissed skin. Warm, despite the cool shade of moonlight that shadows him perfectly as it bleeds through the window adjacent to his bed. His typically combed, neat locks of blonde an untamed mess, falling into his eyes, strands sticking in every-which-direction, a direct result of Levi’s grasp.

Levi needs to nest his shaking hands in that crown of gold too often. When Erwin’s between Levi’s thighs, mouth dedicated and aggressive as he moans against wet heat, savoring every delicious drop of his pleasure he can lap up.

When he’s buried himself inside him, and all Levi can do is whimper, body arched, and eyes rolled to the back of his head. When he can’t see anything but the stars. Can’t feel anything but this weightless pleasure as Erwin’s pace often climbs relentlessly, and he has to bite down on his lip so hard it sometimes breaks skin, just to quiet the scream that’s always too close to escaping.

And Levi had never cared much for how he looked when he passed by windows and mirrors. Yet, something about the way his slender leg, coated in tensed muscle as Erwin hoists it over his naked shoulder— even that, he’s grown to enjoy.

Levi's eyes are always closed when he comes. He won't look, he can't. Not for lack of wanting to, because sometimes- sometimes- he does. Sometimes he wants to know what Erwin's eyes, that he can feel burning into him despite his own closed stare, show him. Curious what they might look like as he tenses so hard around his length that he pulls ragged breaths from the man.

But he doesn't.

It’s these little gestures that, to Levi, keep him in control of the situation. If he doesn’t look at Erwin, he doesn’t let him see just exactly what the man is capable of doing to him during these secret stolen nights they’ve shared a dozen times over.

“Breathe, Levi.” Erwin’s voice lulls him back down, makes gravity return to his body, feel the stiff white sheets they’ve tangled themselves in once again.

Levi hadn’t even realized his breath was held. Not until his lips part and he releases the shaky air, the shutter low and running through his body—Erwin can feel the tremors. His chest is nothing but a cage for butterflies at the sight and sound; the feel of a man stronger than steel unwinding under him.

Erwin’s pleasure is proved as he, only moments after, pulls out and paints Levi’s bare thighs and stomach with the white-hot streams of his own undoing. Levi flinches at the feel, but his head is still pressed deep into the pillow, eyes shut just as tightly.

And that’s the view Erwin’s grown used to. The sight he’s easily become addicted to chasing. He knows the pillow, splayed with deep black strands of hair, will smell like the man resting on it. Even after he’s long gone for the evening.

He’ll bury his own face in that pillow. Close his eyes, hold it as if it were Levi himself he was holding.

After the room stops spinning, after his breaths become steady and his heart slows, he gently moves away from Levi. He rests the leg that stayed loyal on his shoulder, placing it down on the bed as Levi lets his strained knee bend in relief.

Only as Erwin leaves the bed entirely, grabbing an old shirt that’s due to be washed anyhow hanging off his closet door, does Levi open his eyes again.

He shuffles up on his elbows, looks down at his still very naked form, the mess Erwin had made on him.

Erwin, shirt in hand, sits back down on the bed. He starts to attempt to clean up, but Levi quickly takes the shirt from him.

“I—thanks, I got it,” he mumbles. Though the action was abrupt, his voice is still soft. The kind of soft Erwin’s only ever heard behind the closed doors and in the cover of night, alone with him.

He watches with passive content, a relaxed smile on his face as Levi’s meticulous as he can manage in cleaning and dressing himself again. Though, there’s something lithe about all his movements still. Something not strict and rigid.

He’s always like this after they fuck.

Levi, inherently, maybe uncomfortably pliable, and willowy. Erwin quiet and enamored.

“’m a fucking—disaster.” Levi clicks his teeth as he stands, flicks his eyes back up at Erwin, finally.  

With nothing but his boxers on, Levi has to make an active attempt to not let his gaze slide over the mostly naked man sitting lazily and far too comfortable on his bed. Sometimes, during these moments, Levi feels like he’s putting on a show for Erwin. He’s not doing anything spectacular, he pulls his shirt over his head, tosses the now-dirty button up Erwin had lent him back to the man. All the while, he’s under Erwin’s watchful eyes.

And he hates how much he doesn’t hate that. Not at all. Not one bit.

He hates how he has to thank the dark because his cheeks feel warmed and flushed. How his heartbeat can’t seem to steady despite the physicality of the encounter being long over. How it looks like Erwin hasn’t a care in the world. Sturdy and laxed— commanding, because of course he is, and all the while Levi feels like a he’s made of yarn and springs.

“No need to look so proud of yourself— hope you’re throwing that thing away, too. Take some pity on the bastards who have to do your laundry.”

Erwin chuckles, low from his chest. Levi swallows and turns around as he runs his fingers through his hair, pretending he can see his reflection in the window.

“I doubt a few stiff button ups are the worst of what gets washed.” He answers, standing and stretching out his back, arms bent over his head.

Levi watches through the glass with unblinking eyes, and scoffs under his breath.

“Yeah, well. No need to do them any favors, then.”

“Does it worry you?” Erwin asks, keeping a respectable distance from Levi. He’s never sure how he ought to operate these minutes afterwards.

Levi snaps his head at the question, turning to face Erwin head-on. “Worry me? Why would it worry me?”

Erwin gives him a knowing glance, one eyebrow just slightly raised—almost in condescension. Levi’s too tired to dish out the attitude he normally would at the gesture. Instead, he rolls his eyes, so defensively Erwin has to fight back a laugh.

“Soldiers’ gossip about who you’re fucking all the time, anyway. Not like it’s my shirt that’s being washed. What do I care?”

Levi’s unlike any lover he’d taken before. Most are never in any rush to leave the bed they’d shared with Erwin. It’s not that his ego is bruised when Levi seems to be filled with the restless need to wander and leave after they’re done. It’s that he’s curious. He wants to know why.

He also knows Levi isn’t the kind of man who will answer. When he’s ready to share those reasons with Erwin, he will. But he’ll do it on his own time, on his own accord. In the meantime, Erwin’s fascinated to sit back and watch.

Watch as he knows Levi is getting pulled deeper and deeper into Erwin’s orbit.

These nights used to happen once every few weeks, then a couple of times a week, and now—now, it’s almost nightly. For the last month or so, Levi’s found his way to Erwin’s private quarters. He doesn’t even pretend to have an excuse anymore.

Just as Levi’s readying himself to leave, Erwin dares to reach out, wrap his palm around his arm as he passes by just close enough to be within reach. It’s a mild hold, but even so he feels the way Levi stiffens, jolts up. His brows are furrowed as he looks at the touch Erwin’s got on him, then up at the man himself.

“What?”

“You can stay, you know,” Erwin begins, not exactly nervous but aware he’s treading hot water.

When Levi just looks on with some confusion, he tries to clarify.

“Here. In my bed. I’m not kicking you out.” He doesn’t know how to be anything other than straight to the point about it, but it’s distinctly not an order, merely an offer.

Levi, even more startled than before, glances over to that bed behind them, eyes lingering for just a moment. Maybe weighing the idea.

For a brief second, his expression turns weaker, almost blue. It’s gone with a shake of his head, and he pulls his arm away from Erwin.

“I… I should go.” He speaks it to the floor, avoiding Erwin as he says it.

With a small grin, Erwin accepts the denial. “I’ll see you at breakfast, Captain.”

Levi closes the door behind him as he leaves, but only gets a few steps in before freezing in place and turning back to look at it.

He sucks in on his bottom lip, studies the old, splintering wood and rusted handle with far more concentration than necessary. He pictures the man behind that door, laying down in a bed he just offered to share with him, alone.

He thinks about what it would be like to lay there with him. To feel the heat of his body as he falls unconscious next to him. There’s a ring of yearning echoing so loud in his chest, it feels suffocating.

He moves towards that rusted handle; slender fingers almost reach it before he changes his mind.

“Shit,” he whispers for no one but the door and walls to hear. He turns away aggressively. Forces himself to walk with determination out of this hallway and back to his own room.

///

Hanji’s lab is only acceptable because Moblit and Levi had spent the better half of the last two days cleaning it.

It was Levi’s demand, being that Hanji was always asking him to come around. It’s not that he hated listening to them talk, it’s just he can’t focus on a damn thing they’re trying to say when he’s surrounded by ink-splattered desks and walls and dusty fixtures.

For the first time since he’d first started hanging around the pair of them, he can somewhat relax as he sits in the corner of their lab.

Hanji’s speaking a kilometer a minute. Going on about how they plan to convince Erwin next expedition to let them attempt at trapping a titan. One they can finally study, for Hanji to perform whatever demented experiments their twisted mind has conjured up.

Levi thinks, if the day ever came that Hanji did miraculously capture and bring back a live titan, it might also be the day he feels pity for one.

“We don’t even know for sure we’ll be able to keep it trapped.” Levi brings up the point that’s always worried him about Hanji’s hopes when it comes to studying titans. “Creepy lil shits ’ll just rip through any nails or traps we use to keep ‘em down. Not like they care about pain.”

“That’s exactly what I’d like to know, though.”

Hanji responds without looking up, tongue on the side of their mouth as they draw the outline of something in the ink and paper under their hand.

“Do they feel pain? Will they react to it? We have no way of gauging that when we’re engaging them in battle, we’re too focused on trying to cut their nape to study them.”

“What good will knowing that do?” Levi crosses his legs, tries to be as discrete as possible as his eyes dart up to the clock on the wall behind Hanji’s desk. The small hand is just past eleven. There’s still time.

Though, Levi’s not sure if he should go tonight.

He hasn’t for the last few days.

Not from lack of wanting to, he’s just… he doesn’t know what he is. He just knows every time he’s gone to lay down in his own bed, for the first time since joining the Scouts, it feels unbearably empty and cold. That when he closes his eyes, he can’t keep his thoughts away from the gold and blue of that damned man who’d turned his entire life upside with his simple offer of company.

He finds himself missing him. Like a lovesick schoolboy, whose stomach flips at the sound of a name.

The alarms are loud, bright red in his mind. He’s attaching. He needs to pull back.

“What do you mean what good will it do?”

Hanji’s sharp, accusatory shout cuts right through Levi’s spiraling thoughts.

“Everything we can learn about them is something we can use to weaponize against them. You know why we fail every time we go out there?”

“Because we don’t understand a damn thing,” he answers.

Levi’s heard their rant enough times to know how it ends. “I know.”

He doesn’t disagree. When he lived Underground, whenever he had an enemy, a target, the first step he and Farlan would take was little more than observing them. Watching their target from a distance, studying their behavior.

Hanji’s right. It’s impossible to defeat an enemy you know so little about. It’s just that stalking a human and stalking a titan were two very, very different things.

“Hanji’s right—” Moblit, scribbling over Hanji’s shoulder as he sits on the desk beside them, steps in to defend. “But I still don’t think Erwin ‘ll go for it. At least not on this expedition. Our funds have already been slashed. Can’t afford to waste more resources.”

Not to mention lives, Levi thinks, but doesn’t say. Trapping a titan would undoubtedly come at the cost of a Scout or two.

“We’ll just butter him up with our birthday gift, that ought to win us some points.” Hanji sets their inked pen down, pats Moblit gently on the hand.

“Birthday? That coming up?”

Levi didn’t know when the Commander’s birthday was. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing they talked about.

Come to think of it, he’s not sure what they’ve talked about. He’s spent most of the last year next to the man, and he’s only now stopping to wonder what the hell it is that they say to each other when Levi’s not screaming obscenities into the pillows on Erwin’s bed.

“Mhmm. Few days.” Hanji takes their glasses off, rubs their eyes. “Miche and I always do our best to put together a small something. Y’know, a few drinks in his office with us at least. You should come.”

Should he? It’s not like he was invited by Erwin. It’s not like Erwin even told him it was coming up.What game is he playing? He asks Levi to sleep – not fuck, but sleep— with him, but doesn’t make mention of this?

Then again, it’s Levi who hasn’t shown up the last few days. Not that Erwin’s made any comment on it.

He might not care. The intrusive, ugly little thought swarms his mind. That Erwin asking him to stay was nothing more than a courtesy; or worse yet, a whim.

“Maybe,” he responds, talking over the lump in his throat that’d grown at the notion.

He decides to go.

It’d been a battle in his brain, but without realizing he made the decision, he found himself buying the prick a new set of ink pens with his monthly earnings.  

He’d noticed how Erwin’s set seemed old, dried out. He was always switching between pens as Levi stood with his arms behind his back in front of his desk, watching him scribble. Waiting for orders and tasks to carry out.

And well, it’s not like Levi had a use for them. He’d spent the money, so really he doesn’t have a choice. At the very least, he should show up and give him the gift. He doesn’t have to stay long.

It’s been over a week since Levi last had a private moment with Erwin, which means his pulse is speeding as he makes his way through the darkened hallways of Scouts HQ.

He’d seen him in passing, of course. He still answered to his calls, very professionally. But this would be the first time he’s approached him off the clock in what now, after spending so much time together, feels like ages.

Someone could tell Levi it’d actually been a month since he last tasted Erwin against his own mouth, and he’d believe them without a second thought.

Half of him feels bitter. A buried, secret part was hoping after a few days passed, Erwin might seek him out.

He hadn’t. And why should he? What they had between them was casual, physical. Levi had made it clear when he wanted it, he’d go to him.

It just would be nice to know that Erwin wanted it as much Levi can’t help doing so.

Get it together, you’re acting like a god damn teenager. He scolds himself as he approaches his commander’s office.

There’s yellow light casting his shadow against the stone wall behind him, peeking out from under the door. He hears muffled voices, upbeat chatter. His heart skips a beat when he picks out Erwin’s laugh from the various noise.

With the small parcel wrapped in brown paper tucked under his arm, he straightens out his jacket, smooths over his cravat—then stops himself because he realizes what he’s doing and feels ridiculous for it.

He hardly gets out a single knock before he’s beckoned with Hanji’s cheerful greeting.  “Oh—that must be Levi! Come in!” 

He listens to the playful instruction, feels painfully rigid for a moment as he steps into the brightly lit room. All the commotion he’d heard from it moments before stops as everyone acknowledges his entrance.

“Captain.” Erwin’s voice greets him, a pleasant hum that sounds honeyed despite the formal title he addresses Levi with.

His eyes are just as kind, his smile reaches them he as looks towards Levi, and gestures for him to take a seat among everyone else.

Levi gives a cough, feeling a bit put on the spot as all eyes are momentarily on him. Unsure what else to do, he moves forward just enough to reach out and hand Erwin the gift he’d brought.

“Happy Birthday.”

Erwin looks at the package in Levi’s extended arm, his smile dropping. Though he doesn’t look upset; surprised if anything.

“Thank you.” He sets it down on the desk behind him without opening it, and then rounds over to the glass cabinet, notably unlocked with the door ajar.

Without asking Levi if he wants one, he takes another one of those clear crystal glasses everyone else in the room is clinging onto and pours some bitter smelling, amber liquor in it.

Levi doesn’t really get drunk.

He drinks, but it’s hard for him to reach the point of inebriated, no matter how much he throws back. So, he’s not nervous to take the drink from the Commander.

Though, as his hand brushes Erwin’s in the exchange of it all, the feeling of his skin on Levi’s sends a strong bolt down his spine.

It would cause a weaker man to stumble. All he can do is thank god that he can’t get drunk, because he already feels like he’s burning in this suit jacket, and weak at the knees stone-cold sober.

He takes a seat on the couch large enough to afford space for not only himself but also Hanji and Moblit. They’re sitting close—closer than Levi’s seen them. Hanji has a casual arm over the back of the seat, and Moblit isn’t exactly coy about how he leans into the open space Hanji left for him.

Huh. Levi had always suspected, but he never cared to ask. This is as good of a confirmation as any.

There’s a small table that separates the couch from the chairs on the other side of the room. Miche and Nanaba sit in them, respectively.

The table itself is dawned in torn apart wrappings, some sort of fruit tart that must’ve cost as much as the liquor judging by how fresh it looks, and sporadic, half-empty bottles.

He’d come a tad later on purpose. He didn’t want to seem eager.

Or, that’s what he tells himself. It’s a lot harder to admit that maybe he was just nervous.

He doesn’t say much as he sips through his first glass. He’s trying to listen to whatever it is Moblit is going on about.

He’s properly drunk, rambling in a way Levi hasn’t seen him before. He might find it entertaining if he could focus on a damn thing.

He can’t, because Erwin’s standing nonchalant, leaning on his desk. He’s in this light blue shirt that makes his eyes distractingly vibrant. Just tight enough that when he moves to take Levi’s glass, noticing it’s empty and opting to pour him a refill, Levi can see the way the muscles of his arm and chest flex through the material.

For fuck’s sake.

He drinks down the refill even quicker than the first, somewhat hoping that tonight is the night the liquor properly takes over his system. Maybe then he could find it in him to relax.

The opposite of his wish is granted as Erwin moves away from his desk, just to sit on the arm of the couch Levi’s sat on. He’s close enough to him that he can feel the heat of his body against his own, but not so close that anything touches.

God, he wanted to touch.

From this view, as he looks up at Erwin, all he can see is his sharp jaw, accentuated every time that wicked curve of a smile crawls across his full lips. Those features that’ve appeared behind Levi’s eyelids in the dark at night for the past week.

“Lot tamer than some of your past birthdays, huh, Smith?” Miche doesn’t slur his words, but he’s speaking with a voice louder than necessary, back slumped against the chair and legs spread quite comfortably.

Erwin gives a muted chuckle. “It’d be a bit unbecoming of a commander to behave like a private.”

Miche hisses a laugh. “Forget private—god, I remember your eighteenth. Barely out of your diapers as a cadet and had—how many got lucky that night, huh?”

Levi, unknowingly, braces his shoulders straight. He couldn’t help it, Miche was being very clear in his insinuation, and it ignites something sour inside.

“How many?” Levi repeats, looking up at Erwin now, those grey eyes sharper than he means them to be as he raises an eyebrow.

Erwin pauses, studying Levi’s face for a moment before slowly taking a sip of his own near-empty cup. “That was fifteen—sixteen—years ago now, I can hardly remember.”

“Didn’t know you were such a partier, Commander.” There’s some bite in the words that only Erwin would be able to pick up on.

“Partier isn’t the right word,” Miche interrupts, oblivious to the match he’d accidentally lit. The small flame being fanned inside Levi with every well-meaning word of his ramble. “Casanova, maybe—then again, with the whole damn regiment fawning at your feet, hard to really blame it on the bastard, huh?”

“I’d argue that’s a bit of an overstatement there, Miche,” Erwin counters, still jovial; but Levi knows he’s aware of his lingering stare.

Levi clicks his teeth. “Don’t get shy on us now, Commander. No need to be humble about it.” He finishes off the bottom of his glass. “Must be exhausting, batting away those starry-eyed admirers all the time, huh?”

He feels small and stupid.

Of course he didn’t come to you. Why would he bother chasing anyone when it’s so clear how many chase him?

It’s not that Levi was unaware of the fact that he was fawned over by a decent number of civilians and soldiers alike. It’s hard not to notice the man who’s been forged in the mythos of his title and skill.

Hard not to notice as he looms larger than life on his horse, blades high in the air. A voice so strong it rises over the sound of hooves as he leads with assured confidence of a man who’s brought the Scouting regiment the most success it’s ever had.

Nanaba catches the stare on Levi’s face. For a brief moment, the pair make eye-contact, and she gives him this sort of kind, apologetic smile that makes Levi want to run out of the room.

“Miche, you’re talking too much,” she says, bringing a hand over to his thigh and patting it.

Erwin doesn’t look at Levi for the rest of the evening, and Levi doesn’t say much of anything else.

By the time the night draws to a close, Moblit’s past the point of drunk. He snores gently against Hanji. Levi watches as they exchange a tender moment, Hanji running their fingers through Moblit’s hair, gingerly tapping his cheek to wake him up.

He presses his lips together, realizing only then how much he craved such a loving touch. A small moment. To be known, cared for, embraced—

“Get him to bed,” Erwin says, handing Hanji the coat Moblit had forgone long ago as he leans against them.

“He’s gonna have a nightmare of a hangover in the morning.” Nanaba stands to leave, Miche in tow.

“Him? No—he’s mastered the art of drinking, trust me on that.” Hanji looks down fondly at the man, currently using them as support as he tries to stand on unbalanced legs. “Sure you don’t want us to stay and help clean?”

“What would you know about cleaning anything?” Levi does his best to make it sound like a joke, but a bit of aggravation slips through.

Thankfully, Hanji lets it roll right off their shoulders.

“Guess ya got me there. Did a hell of a job with my lab the other day,” they say with a shrug. “G’night, boys. Don’t stay up too late past your bedtime, now.”

“Hanji—”

“Watch it—”

Erwin and Levi speak right over each other in their attempts to divert Hanji’s drunk insinuation, but the door is closed and they’re alone in the room before they can care to respond.

There’s little outside of the noise of plates and glassware clinking as Levi collects them, stacks them together. Erwin takes all the paper wrappings that’d fallen onto the floor, stuffs them in his trash bin. The two avoid touching one another, almost like a dance they’re doing as their bodies move around the room in circles.

“I’ll take these down to the kitchens.” Levi’s the one to break his silence, starts picking up the plates and cups, now neatly stacked in a pile on the corner of the table.

“Leave the glasses, they should be washed with care—”

“—I can do it.” Levi cuts Erwin off before he can finish.

Erwin sighs, a look of discomfort on his face Levi pretends not to notice.

“Goodnight, commander,” he attempts again.

“Levi, wait a second.”

“What?”

“Are we going to discuss this?” he asks calmly, despite the way Levi seems anything but calm.

“I don’t know, commander. Is this something to discuss?”

Erwin shakes his head, closes his eyes. There’s a soft laugh on his lips.

“Glad I’m so amusing to you,” Levi murmurs under his breath.

“Yes,” Erwin immediately replies. “I would say that. You are indeed amusing.”

“Yeah? That what I’ve been doing for the past year or so? Amusing you?”

“Now, that’s not fair. I’d say we get an equal amount of enjoyment from it.”

Levi scoffs, the way Erwin stays so collected during it all only adds to his frustration.

“So can I ask who it was that’s been amusing you for the last week and a half?”

At this, for the first time, Erwin looks genuinely taken aback. “I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Oh, give me a break—Casanova, right?”

The realization spreads across Erwin’s face. “Oh—” his mouth opens, but the sound hardly comes out. “I have to say, I’m a little confused.”

You’re confused? Levi wants to shout back, but can’t because Erwin keeps talking.

“You refuse to stay the night with me, stop coming to me the moment I offered, and now you’re acting like a jealous lover?”

“Hah—” Levi forces a laugh. “I am not…I’m not jealous. We’re not lovers.”

“Then what is it that we are?” Erwin’s tone has changed. There’s no more taunt. There’s a heaviness in the question. Like he’s demanding an answer for it.

“A Commander and a Captain.” He turns. “Your bedwarmer,” he mumbles under his breath, but Erwin hears it.

“You’re being callous about this Levi. You’re the only one framing it so coldly.”

“Oh, I’m cold?” He tries to keep his voice low—it was late. The rest of the base, god willing, was asleep. The hurt is still present in every syllable.

“If I’ve offended…Levi I’m not sure what it is I’ve done—”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Levi finally asks in a violent whisper.

Erwin’s frozen solid at the question, heart stopped in his chest.

He hadn’t realized. He hadn’t been paying attention.

“Every night we’ve spent together, I drag my ass up to your room. I… I chase you, every time. Against my better judgement. I waited a week just to see—and you just left it there. You didn’t even try.”

Levi feels so much shame in the confession he’d let slip that he physically can’t allow himself to look at Erwin. His hands are clenched in fists, his face hot—he feels panicked, almost. What a disaster. What a mess you’ve made yourself. In front of him, of all people.

Erwin doesn’t answer his question. Instead, he returns with his own.

“What do you want out of this, Levi?”

Erwin moves with his words, closer to Levi. A hesitant hand reaches out— tries to cup his jaw. At first, Levi resists, but Erwin persists. He forces Levi’s gaze to meet his. He wants Levi to see the sincerity.

“You’re right. I won’t chase you,” Erwin continues, articulate and soft. “But that’s—that’s not because you’re my bedwarmer. Don’t misunderstand.”

Levi’s reluctant, but he listens. He swallows, mouth dry. All the control he’s ever had with Erwin seems like it’s been shot. He’d never regain his own footing. He doesn’t know how he’ll even face him again after this fight ends.

“Then explain it to me,” he grits out, forcing clarity in the words.

Erwin takes a deep breath in, hand still resting under Levi’s jaw. It’s joined by the other. All he can think about is how right it feels to have Levi’s beautiful face between his palms. How those eyes bearing into him—even twisted in this fury—make him weaker than he’d ever thought he could be.

How much he wants this sight, Levi; to make his skin and body a home for him to return to every night.

“I respect you, Levi. Too much to—too much to chase you.”

“Respect me?” There’s more breath in Levi’s voice as he asks. His face softens with confusion.

“Miche was wrong. I’m not a Casanova—that’s not how most see me. I’m—”

A devil. A monster. Someone who’s brought even more death to this world. Chasing a secret dream only he knows of, and is more than willing to continue doing so.

“I am not a good man.”

He spares Levi the dramatics. Tries to get his point across in simple terms.

At the confession, Levi pulls away, takes a step back; like what Erwin had said was jarring, offensive.

“A good man? And what—you think I am?” He laughs; a cold laugh, filled with disbelief.

“You may have a history, I don’t deny that. But you did what you had to out of survival. Every time I take us outside those gates, I know my soldiers will die. I draw up the charts, I choose their places. I privately predict which ones I’ll have to write death certificates for when we get back, with staggering accuracy. And I place them there anyway.”

He looks at his hands, palms turned upwards.

“I can’t refute their nickname. I think I might be the devil, to know the consequences every time, and still continue even so.”

“What does this have to do with—?”

“My hands are so soaked in blood that sometimes I’m afraid I’ll see handprints on your body when I touch you. And it is shameful, disgusting, to mark you with my own sin like that. To taint something, someone… even now, it’s proved. The true devil I am, because knowing all this, I can’t stop myself. I want you. But it is a decision I refuse to make. I won’t pressure you to tie yourself to me.”

There’s a part of Levi that’s insulted. A part that feels belittled by his confession, by the idea he could taint Levi. As if he were some innocent, untouched gem and not a man with his own past. His own wants and needs. The ability to make this judgment on his own accord.

Yet the way Erwin speaks now, Levi can’t find it in him to show that anger. It’s open in a way he didn’t know the man could even be—and it makes Levi shudder, to think how little he holds himself in his head. He had no idea the depth of Erwin’s dissatisfaction. He isn’t sure what to do with it.

And out of all Erwin said, all he confessed, Levi finds himself hung up on only one part of it.

I want you.

He wants Levi.

“You want me?” he asks. He can’t help it.

“Only you,” Erwin answers in the way he knew Levi needed him to.

Levi can’t recall the last time he’d been genuinely lightheaded, but he is now. Those two simple words make the world feel like it’s stopped moving entirely. His vision tunneled; his chest weak.

He stumbles back, feels his legs reach the arm of the couch as he tries his best to maintain some composure, sitting on it to rest.

He wasn’t sure what he honestly expected out of tonight, but it wasn’t this. He wasn’t prepared for this truth to come forward.

He looks at Erwin, who’s watching him carefully. Eyes he wants to lose himself in again, and again, and again—forever.

He only now realizes it. Or, rather, he only now lets himself realize it.

It’s not just Erwin who wants Levi.

Levi wants him too. He wants to be his only. He wants to be the one man who gets to see Erwin as he is now.

He wants to hear every vulnerable confession Erwin could possibly have for him. To reach deep inside Erwin’s chest and shake out the blame and doubt.

To convince him that he’s not a monster, he’s beautiful. Convince Erwin that the devil can’t scare him. Levi’s already spent so much of his life in hell. He’s well acquainted with it.

He's seen true evil in so many of its forms. None of it resembled the man in front of him.

He has no idea how to convey any of that.

“You—” Levi’s voice cracks. He does his best to clear his throat, to steady himself again. “Are you going to open your present or what?”

That smile that’s drawn him in so deeply returns to Erwin’s face at the question. The sight itself does more to comfort Levi than anything else.

“Do you want me to?”

“Well, I didn’t buy it so it can stay wrapped up on your desk.”

The subtle laughter that fills the air between them makes it more comfortable again. Levi’s thankful for it.

He stays sitting in place as Erwin unwraps his gift. He opens the wooden case, the pens neatly secured in velvet inside. A set of six, sleek black and supposedly comfortable to hold for long durations.

“These are exquisite.” Erwin picks one up in his hand, rolls it between his fingers. He pulls a piece of paper out from a neat stack on his desk and writes something down. Levi can’t see exactly what it is he’s written, but he doesn’t ask.

“Couldn’t stand to see you switch between three pens just to sign your own damn name.”

“Ah—yes, I imagine that must’ve been incredibly annoying for you to bare through, Captain.” He sets the pen back down, leaves the paper where it is to dry. “Thank you, Levi.”

“Yeah, well. I’m glad you like them.”

It’s quiet for a few moments between them. There’s something that needs to be addressed. Levi never actually responded to Erwin’s confession. Though, he feels he’s been painfully obvious at this point, concerning  where he stands with it all.

“Why didn’t you stay the night when I asked?” Erwin asks.

It’s a fair question, especially after all Erwin had confided. It doesn’t make Levi any more eager to answer it.

His fingers dig into the wood of the armrest, he looks down at his foot, tapping against the floorboard. He has no idea when he started doing that.

“Want to know the last time I shared a bed with someone, Smith? Last time I fell asleep next to another person?”

Erwin doesn’t respond, he knows the question is rhetorical.

“Twenty years ago. I was six. It was my mother.” Levi struggles through the discomfort. He forces himself to look at Erwin, the same way Erwin had when confessing before. “She held me. I was warm. She was warm. Until she wasn’t.”

Levi’s breath shudders, like he’s fighting against something.

“I must’ve laid in that bed next to her body for days before I couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t stand how cold and sharp she felt next to me.”

“Levi, you don’t have to…”

“I don’t know how to do this. Okay? I’ll admit that. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here.” He talks faster, more erratic. “Every time I… every time I… I let myself care… it always, always ends the same. I am always the one left standing. I am always alone.”

Levi suddenly stands, stalks over to Erwin. Takes that light blue shirt, wrinkles it in his tightly coiled fist.

“You’re not a good man? Fine. You think you’re a devil? I don’t care.” He looks up at Erwin, body pressed against his. A desperation in his eyes that Erwin thinks could swallow him whole and break him in half if he let it. “You can be whatever you need to be. They can call you whatever they want, I don’t care.”

Levi drops his grasp on Erwin’s shirt only to reach for one of his wrists. He brings Erwin’s hand up to his face, presses the palm against his cheek with force, then drops it.

“Look, there’s no blood. No handprints. You can’t taint me. I’m not your fucking saint, or whatever you built me up as in your head. Whatever you’ve done, whatever you do, it doesn’t change anything.”

“What are you saying?” Erwin asks, his own voice full of breath now as he stares down.

There’s devotion in Erwin’s eyes that makes Levi feel faint. He can’t handle it. He doesn’t know how to handle it.

Levi had dedicated his heart to Erwin long, long ago.

He never expected Erwin to dedicate his own right back.

He relies on instinct. In a second, Levi’s wrapped his hands around Erwin’s neck, forces their lips together.

He could almost expect a clash. Thunder. Some sort of acknowledgement from the world around them, regarding the explosion that’s finally come to its peak between the two.

Instead, all Levi hears his Erwin’s low, defeated groan rise from his throat. The sound of Erwin’s body hitting his desk as he props himself up on it, and Levi straddles his lap.

He kisses Erwin ferociously. Like he’s starving—he is starving. He’s so hungry for the taste of this man who’d snuck into his life, twisted himself into Levi’s mind so effectively that nearly every passing thought he has now revolves around him.

“Erwin,” he breathes against his neck as he trails up with nips and kisses. “Erwin, I need you, I—I need you.”

He rolls his hips against Erwin, his actions only adding truth to his pleas. Erwin takes his face in one hand, brings Levi’s lips up to meet his again. The kiss is deep, his tongue flicks against Levi’s lips and he eagerly lets him in.

So much stronger than any liquor in his cabinet. So much more addictive than anything they could peddle Underground. The sensation of Levi as his soft lips meld with Erwin’s, the way he whimpers and shamelessly grinds down on Erwin’s growing erection—there’s nothing that could draw him in so rapidly, so completely.

He only pulls away from the kiss to take a breath, before kissing Levi’s forehead and whispering in his ear. “Not here—my room, my bed,” he says between soft pants.

Levi nods, but it still takes encouragement on Erwin’s end to get him off his lap and back on his feet.

There’s pain at the break of their touch, Levi feels it radiate from his core and throughout his muscles and nerves. It’s what he’s felt all week. Being separated from Erwin was nothing but pain.

Everything about tonight is so different. The way Erwin reaches out to drag Levi into the hall. The way Levi has to keep his steps steady and silent with more effort than ever before, because he can’t push down the eagerness.

The mere fact that he was making this journey with Erwin, rather than to him.

They’re back in the room Levi’s memorized every detail of—down to the way Erwin folds his top sheet, but never the comforter. How there’s a half-read book on the corner of his dresser, that always takes him less than a week to read. The way he purposefully pinned back the curtains over his window, so he can stare out at the sky at night.

And most, most, most of all, Erwin. How he belongs here, the center of the puzzle. How this was his space he’d created. The only place in the world he can separate from his position of commander, maybe.

How he wants to share this with Levi. He’s invited Levi into this space of his own making, hoping he’ll stay. Not as a soldier or subordinate. Not as his captain. As Levi. His Levi.

Erwin pulls Levi onto the bed. Levi tumbles on top of him, making up for lost time with a few more kisses before he reels back.

“I meant what I said in there,” Levi starts, low and slow.

His face is so close to Erwin’s, every word of Levi’s tickles his skin. Their lips barely brushing as Levi says what he needs to.

“Man. Commander. Monster. Devil. Doesn’t matter to me.”

Erwin feels the deep breath Levi takes; his chest heavy against him.

“What I need from you—is to be alive. Do you understand?”

Levi’s hand trails down, he presses two fingers against Erwin’s neck, the pulse of his heart beating fast against them.

“I need this. Just. Keep breathing for me. Don’t leave me alone.”

There’s a look of sorrow that breaks through Erwin’s expression, as he looks back at the man while he doles out his soft-hearted demands.

Levi knows what the look means. He won’t accept it.

He’s asking the impossible. He knows this deep down. In this war, in this life they’ve chosen, they will never be safe. One will undoubtedly bury the other. There’s no way around these facts.

He needs to be indulged. Just for one moment.

He needs to hear Erwin promise him this, promise a future together. One where he doesn’t leave Levi behind. Even if it can’t be true.

They deserve it.

They, at the very least, deserve to buy the fantasy in these moments. The fantasy is likely all they’ll ever have.

“Promise me, please,” he says it into the kiss. Rubs his nose against Erwin, nuzzling into the safety and warmth as Erwin’s hands stay wrapped around Levi’s waist, his body lying flat against his own.

Erwin’s reluctant. He’s already so many things. Will he be a liar as well?

But Levi is so earnest in his request. So unbearably loving. Erwin doesn’t deserve it. He could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve it, that much he’s certain of.

So, knowing it’ll never be enough, that he will likely never give Levi the life he deserves to have—that he might use Levi’s body until it breaks, or vice versa—he nods.

“Okay,” he breathes out. “Okay. I promise.”

It’s enough. It’s all Levi could ask for, and it’s enough.

Erwin’s hands roam Levi’s body, holding, tugging, squeezing any bit of him his fingers find.

Levi moves against Erwin with his kiss, so frantically, it could almost worry the man. Were he not so distracted by the small paradise Levi’s giving him in each affectionate touch.

A hand travels out from Erwin’s hair down his torso, yanks out the shirt from his pants and eagerly glides under it, feeling the smooth skin between the scars. Worshipping the muscles he feels tense. He glides his fingertips up to Erwin’s ribs, then back down to his waist.

Levi groans in frustration. Erwin’s belt is still on, he can’t slip his hand under. Instead, he palms over them, rubs his hand against Erwin, hard and aching.

“It’s yours, Levi,” he reassures, though there’s a hitch in his breath.

“Oh, fuck. Erwin.” Levi moans into his shoulder- kissing, licking, biting love marks along his collar bone.

Erwin urges Levi up, positions him so he’s straddling his hips while Erwin looks up at him, flat on his back.

He runs his hands, in a manner similar to how Levi just had with him, up his body.

He starts at his thighs, slowly making his way across his hips. Levi quickly shrugs the suit jacket he’d still managed to keep on all this time off his shoulders and throws it across the room.

For once, he couldn’t care less about it landing on the dusty floor.

He can’t care about a single damn thing outside of Erwin, and how his hands feel like fire as they burn through Levi’s clothes, run up his torso.

“Unbutton it,” Erwin commands, voice like velvet. Entrancing in a way that should scare Levi, but doesn’t.

He listens to the instruction without any pause. Quick and nimble fingers undo the buttons of his shirt until Levi’s chest is exposed of all but the wrappings.

He doesn’t wait for Erwin’s instruction; he untangles them on his own. His nipples immediately perk in the cool night air, and he can feel the way Erwin’s cock, pressed harsh against his inner thigh thanks to how he’s positioned, throbs at the sight of it.

Erwin wants to touch, it’s clear in the way his eyes never leave Levi. Nearly predatory as they drink up Levi and his silken skin, pristine and glowing in the moonlight.

He forces himself to resist the urge. Drunk off the power, the intimacy. The way Levi listens without any sort of bite or complaint.

This was his Levi. He is only like this, and will only ever be like this, for him.

Erwin had silently wanted it for so long. It’s hard to believe it’s real. Hard to believe this man on top of him, in all his beauty and pain, his snide and tenderness—is real.

“Undress for me,” Erwin continues, a small nod of his head indicating to the pants still hanging off Levi’s hips.

He moves off of Erwin, off the bed so he can more quickly and efficiently follow the order.

With Levi gone, Erwin sits up, taking the chance to kick off his own pants and boxers, discards his opened shirt, until the two of them are bare, face to face with one another.

There isn’t a part of either’s body the other hasn’t seen at this point, but it’s never been this.

It’s never been Levi, brass and unapologetic as he stands in the night that folds so perfectly around his form, draping him in the light from the stars outside.

And Erwin, just as exposed, just as vulnerable, feels pity for the stars in that moment. For the moon, the planets, for how they shine and glimmer. He pities them because striking as they may be, they couldn’t hold a candle, not the tiniest match of a flame, to the man he’s witnessing now.

If someone had plucked Orion’s belt right out of the sky, wrapped it up, and placed it on his desk with a card wishing him a happy birthday, it still would’ve still only been second-best.

He could rack his weary brain for as long as he liked, but the answer was absolute. There was no gift better than Levi.

“I’m yours, Erwin,” Levi repeats back the sentiment Erwin had given him earlier. He starts to move forward, climbs back on the bed, onto Erwin.

The touch of their skin is magnetic, they can’t pull apart, can’t keep their hands off one another. Erwin pulls Levi close, hoists him up on his knees so Erwin can more easily reach Levi’s chest with his mouth.

His tongue laps across one nipple, flicking across the swollen bud. His teeth graze against it gently. Levi squirms, wiggles his hips in Erwin’s grasp.

He was longing for a touch, there’s an ache in his cunt as Erwin stays focused on his upper half. He keeps toying with his nipples, going between the two, ensuring each got the proper amount of care and attention.   

One arm loops around his back, holding him still and simultaneously forcing Levi even closer.

“Erwin—” Levi quietly begins. He’s cut off with a hiss of a moan he can’t stop as Erwin picks a spot on Levi’s chest and bites down hard, tongue immediately darting out to soothe it, but going back and forth between the two motions. The first place Erwin’s picked to properly mark.

“Erwin—” Levi attempts again.

“What is it, baby?” Erwin mutters. He sounds calculated.

Not hazy, not like Levi, who could have died right there at the endearment.

“Please, please. Touch me.”

Erwin chuckles, low and dark, right into Levi’s bruised skin. “Is that not what I’m doing?”

He hears the frustrated groan this earns him and clicks his teeth. In a motion so quick it can hardly register as pleasure, he brings the hand that’d been wrapped around Levi’s waist and runs his fingers across the obscenely soaked lips, until they settle on the throbbing bundle of nerves.

Levi jets his hips instinctively at the touch, his body taking over. He didn’t care about composure, or control. He just wanted more.

“Oh, is this what you wanted?” Erwin asks, condescending just enough to get under Levi’s skin.

“Fucking prick,” Levi murmurs. He’s doing his best to sound anything but overcome by the relief of having Erwin finally acknowledge the part that’s missed and craved him most.

“That comes later.”

Oh, that god damn smug, sly—

Levi can’t even finish the thought, let alone try to articulate it. The air leaves his lungs as Erwin, with Levi in his grasp, turns them around and lays back down properly across the mattress.

“What the fuck—” Levi manages to get out, though if Erwin listened hard enough, he’d hear traces of laughter between the airy question.

“Up,” Erwin simply responds. Levi adjusts, sits up again, and looks down.

“Up,” Erwin repeats.

Levi freezes for a moment, unsure what he’s being asked.

With a gentle sigh, Erwin brings his hands to grasp each of Levi’s thighs respectively and repeats his request for a third time.

“Up.”

He urges Levi forward, past the hips he straddled, past his torso, and chest, until the sweet, warm temptation of Levi’s sex is hovering right over Erwin’s watering mouth, his knees pressed into the mattress on either side of Erwin’s head.

Hold still tight around each thigh, he forces Levi to spread himself as far as he could given the angle.

Levi hisses at the feeling of his muscles being stretched but doesn’t ask him to stop. He feels Erwin’s breath against his aching need, and has to steady himself by leaning onto the headboard in front of him.

“Incredible,” Erwin whispers, placing a kiss on Levi’s inner thigh.

Levi’s on the edge of sanity when Erwin finally gives in, finally stops his loving sadism, and places his mouth directly on Levi’s sex.

He doesn’t find his sanity in the relief or pleasure. Not as Erwin’s tongue laps up Levi’s slick, flicks up and rolls over his clit. Only long enough for Levi to get comfortable with a rhythm, before abandoning it again to tease at his entrance. It flutters open for Erwin every time he gets close.

If anything, all this does that is push him over that edge.

He hasn’t even climaxed, and Levi feels lissome.

Not tired, just delirious from the sensation. His hands are in his own hair, just looking for something to grab tightly. Some way to keep himself upright as he grinds down onto Erwin’s open and eager mouth.

He can’t stop, not that Erwin would ever want him to. He’s feral and undone, with Erwin sucking on his clit, how he knows just the right amount of pressure Levi needs to get there.

Erwin’s eyes stare up, burning into Levi, watching the way he’s struggling, twitching.

His sharp chin and thin neck are all he sees as Levi throws his head back. His hips roll against Erwin with purpose. Erwin’s in such a state from it all himself, he can’t deny what Levi’s entire body is begging for on top of him any longer.

Levi doesn’t bother to silent the cry as he comes hard against Erwin. His body shakes, his hips rutting harshly, chasing the orgasm, almost as if he’s refusing to let it go.

It does pass, though. Levi’s glistening in a layer of sweat as he falls onto the bed next to Erwin, so limp that for a second Erwin’s genuinely scared.

He catches Levi against the mattress, arm wrapped around his shoulder as he pulls him closer, turns his head.

“Did I overwork you, Captain?” Erwin covers up the slight anxiety with a joke.

Levi’s chest is still taking short, erratic breaths, his eyes are still closed, but a small, rare smile graces his lips.

“Shut—shut the fuck up,” he struggles to defend, a proper laugh with it this time, and Erwin gives one as well.

He sits up on his elbow so he can easily hover over Levi. Pushes the hair that’s stuck with sweat out of his face. Kisses his forehead, his nose, until Erwin’s lip command his once again.

Levi kisses back, slowly regaining the sanity Erwin had so effortlessly robbed him of. Once he’s confident he’s got a body—that he’s not just a mess of sighs and moans that Erwin reduced him to—he sits up, tries to take command of the kiss.

Erwin lets him, as Levi turns, swapping with Erwin so he’s the one hovering over him. Two hands go to his shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed.

There’s this glint in Levi’s eyes as he breaks away from Erwin, looks up at him while placing sensual kisses along his collar bones and chest—god, it could destroy the man. It really could.

Levi trails down Erwin’s body with his lips, with his kisses, moving his own lower along the way.

He doesn’t stop until he’s resting on his stomach and elbows between Erwin’s bent knees. His hand, in a teasing motion, lightly strokes his cock. His fingers wrap loosely around it, touches delicate and infuriatingly subtle as Levi continues to speckle Erwin’s hips and thighs with those open-mouthed kisses.

His other hand, not leisurely stroking Erwin’s cock, moves lower, palms at his balls. To Erwin, the anticipation resembles torture more than anything else.

“Levi.” The demand is in how he says his name, but Levi isn’t daunted. Erwin had taken his sweet time giving Levi what he wanted. He could wait a few more moments.

Levi enjoys it all far too much. The way Erwin’s abdomen tenses as he goes between tentatively stroking his dick, to pawing at his balls.

The way he can tell Erwin’s trying his best not to dive his fingers into Levi’s hair and force his head down, force his mouth to take his cock, which is already wet, its swollen slit dripping with prerelease.

And Levi has to admit, it takes some willpower of his own not to immediately lap it up the way he wants to as he sees the small dribble of come slip down the head, onto Erwin’s length.

Erwin’s breath hitches as Levi, instead of succumbing to what they both wanted deep down, strokes his cheek against his cock, nuzzles against it.

And—that is a sight.

As much as Erwin was dying with every moment that passed to feel Levi’s mouth wrap around his cock, he can’t deny that seeing it pressed against his face, as he looks so daringly right at Erwin while doing so, is something akin to what the old poets who wrote of heaven must have felt.

In a downright evil, devious motion, Levi turns his head just enough, so his lips just barely brush against the sensitive skin. It’s then Erwin thinks he might break entirely. A hand rushes down, nests in Levi’s hair tightly, demanding the coyness to end.

“What’s the matter, Commander?” Levi taunts, dripping with confidence. “Impatient?”

“Suck it,” Erwin demands through a tight jaw and clenched teeth.

“Ask nicely,” Levi demands right back at him.

With that, Erwin yanks Levi’s head up just far enough so that when he shoves it back down, Levi hardly has a choice in opening his mouth and taking his full length down his throat.

“Fuck. There it is,” he breathes through the relief as the last of Levi’s willpower seems to have escaped him as well.

He takes Erwin deep, lets him fuck his throat. Spit starts to spew out from the sides of Levi’s lips. It makes the sounds of his wet cock thrusting in and out of his mouth impossible to ignore—and it only makes Erwin harder.

“There it is,” he coos again, releasing his harsh grasp on Levi’s hair and instead petting gently through the strands. “Good—good boy.” He heaves out, interrupted as Levi flicks his tongue around Erwin’s head, coming back with a vengeance for what he’d missed out on earlier.

The praise hits Levi’s ears, an unretained moan vibrates along Erwin’s length. He can see Levi rub his thighs together. There’s little doubt he’s already wet and waiting for Erwin, again. By the time he’s had his fun, Levi ‘ll be begging for Erwin to fuck him.

Levi’s stamina has always been a point of pride, for him. With as imposing as Erwin’s sex is, he doubts many have taken it as well as he does. Doubts that there have been those other than him who could stay so relentlessly in their motions while taking Erwin’s full, erect cock in their mouth.

Even Levi has to admit, he often wakes up with a sore jaw and achy throat. But it’s hardly enough to deter him. Especially not right now, not with the low moans and murmurs Levi’s pulling from Erwin—perhaps the most precious sounds he’s ever heard.

Not with how Levi can feel his own heat between his legs start to soak his inner thighs. If he were in his right state of mind, he’d worry about the spot he’ll leave behind on the sheets once he leaves this position.

Erwin lets himself get dangerously close. He feels it coming, in the tightening of his lower stomach, he almost doesn’t have the strength to pull away. At the last moment, he does. This time he grabs Levi’s hair to yank him away, to stop him.

He wasn’t going to come without fucking Levi properly. Not a chance in hell.

“Stay right there,” he tells Levi, who’s still lying flat on his stomach. Erwin shuffles up, only giving himself a moment to reel down from the edge he’d let Levi bring him to, before standing.

As he walks along the side of the bed, he trails his finger along Levi’s naked shoulders, his back. Watches goosebumps rise on his skin, his head turned toward him, but face half obstructed by the mattress he’d let himself fall into.

When he reaches Levi’s ass, he caresses it gently. Levi lets a soft, sweet moan out at the touch, into the sheets.

At the edge of the bed, he grabs Levi by the hips, pulls him onto his knees. Levi steadies himself with his forearms as they press into the soft bed below. He arches his back easily, tempting Erwin, though there was hardly a need for it.

Erwin takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags it down Levi’s slit. He pauses at his entrance, gently begins to press his head, watching the small body stretch and accommodate for his girth with lust-ridden eyes. A look that might’ve even startled Levi, if he could see it.

“If—If I’m yours,” Levi pants out, obviously tired of the games, “you better fuck me like it, Erwin.”

With what can best be described as a growl, Erwin buries his full length into Levi.

He doesn’t start slow at all, not with all the attitude Levi’s been sure to dish out. His pace is quick, harsh, relentless.

Levi sinks deeper into the bed, burying his face to try to muffle the screams he can’t keep back. His hands claw at the sheets—with every snap of Erwin’s hips, he can feel his balls slap against his clit. It’s overwhelming, almost unbearable.

Erwin looks down at the sight, not satisfied. He didn’t want to be robbed of any of the helpless, breathless moans he earns from his captain tonight.

One hand leaves Levi’s hip just to grab once again at his hair, pulling him up. Levi gasps, gulping down air and pained by the sudden grip on his scalp.

“Well, Levi?” Erwin grunts, “am I making myself clear?”  

“Wha—Erwin—?” Levi’s weak, confused little fuck-drunk mumbles could pull at Erwin’s heart in any other circumstance, but not now.

“Whose are you?” Erwin’s grip tightens on Levi’s hair for just a moment.

“Ah—! Shit, yours—I’m yours.” It almost sounds like a cry. It only makes Erwin’s cock twitch as it continues to thrust into Levi’s warm, tight walls, squeezing and blooming around him.

At the correct answer, Erwin lets go of Levi’s hair.

“Stay on your hands. I want to hear you.”

Levi does as he’s told, though his elbows shake as he struggles to keep himself upright. Erwin knew Levi’s body too well, at this point. He knows just the pace to set, just the depth to it. Every action is perfectly calculated to make Levi fall into pieces at the moment Erwin wants him to.

The hand that’s left Levi’s hair slides down his ass, spreads his cheeks. He can hear and feel Erwin spit onto his hole, as his finger slowly starts to rub along the rim.

He’s kind enough to slow his pace inside Levi as he carefully begins to ease his finger inside. There’s a choked noise that comes from Levi.

It’s not the first time, but it’s not something that’s occurred often. Erwin pauses for a moment.

“Are you okay?” he asks, a notch gentler than before. He smiles to himself as Levi nods with enthusiasm.

Okay was not even close to the word for it. He was about a thousand leagues away from whatever okay is. This is bliss.

The way he’s so full, full of Erwin. The slight sting quickly turns into pleasant pressure.

Erwin doesn’t push it, with one finger in his ass and his cock taking Levi’s pussy, there’s nothing Levi can do other than gyrate and mewl as his climax becomes inevitable.

“You can come, Levi. Come for me,” Erwin soothingly encourages, and Levi listens.

There’s a hiss that escapes Erwin’s lips at the feeling of Levi tightening hard around his cock and his finger. He helps him ride it out, allows him to collapse despite his earlier demand as he quivers into the bed, shouting Erwin’s name into his own sheets.

He waits until Levi’s tremoring stops, but when it does, he doesn’t continue. Instead, Erwin pulls out entirely.

Levi flips onto his back, a worried glance on his face. “You didn’t—?”

“I know,” Erwin reassures, and crawls back onto the bed, over him. Levi lifts his leg as Erwin slides his length back inside him.

His body completely envelopes Levi, wraps him up in his muscle and shadow.

“Levi,” he calls down to him, forcing his focus. Levi blinks up in response. “Will you look at me, when you come?”

He wants to see it. He’s never let him before, but, well, tonight is a night of a lot of firsts. Maybe he could ask for just one more, maybe that would be okay.

Levi looks hesitant. Unsure of himself. It’s a look Erwin isn’t used to seeing on the man.

He’s about to tell him he doesn’t have to, when Levi slowly nods his head.

“Okay,” he barely whispers out, “okay.”

Erwin can’t help but smile.

This man.

This beautiful, adorning man.

And Levi is true to his word. The grey of his eyes stay wide open and on Erwin as he reaches that euphoric high for the third time that night. He doesn’t let Erwin go with his gaze, he’s trapped there in those eyes as that brief vulnerability and unmatched pleasure waves through him.

It’s hard, for Levi. But he wants to. If he was going to do this with Erwin, truly be with him, then he should show all of himself. A part of him thinks he wants Erwin to see it. There’s relief that comes beyond the orgasm—the relief that he is, by at least one person, known.

Erwin doesn’t last long after that. He comes, Levi’s name on his lips as he does so, his hand against his face. He surges down to kiss him. Levi hiccups, breathing harsh and unsteady. Erwin doesn’t comment on the tear he sees silently slip down his cheek, he just presses a kiss where it settles on his jaw.

It’s a decent while before either of them has the strength to move again. It’s the first time Levi’s let Erwin lay against him like this, after all is said and done. He wants to cherish the moment.

Levi, hesitantly, runs his fingers through Erwin’s hair as he rests on his chest. He’s not sure he knows how to be soothing, or gentle. But he tries. He wants to be.

When Erwin does, reluctantly, leave the embrace, he slips his boxers back on and comes back with a towel, not a shirt. His eyes are on Levi as he sits back down on the bed, reaches a hand out. He expects Levi to take it from him, like he always does; he doesn’t. He stays still.

He sits there, and lets Erwin clean him off of his release. The towel soft against his skin, the movements thorough but compassionate. He lets Erwin take care of him, and every second Erwin says thank you silently in his head for it.

He hands Levi his own boxers to slip back on, then eyes the clothes he’d left in a pile on the floor.

“Leave them there,” Levi says, following Erwin’s stare.

“Are you sure?” Erwin’s already settling in next to Levi, pulling the comforter down so they can both adjust under it.

Levi feels a little tense at first, as Erwin lays next to him. He wraps an experimental arm around him, and after a beat, Levi allows himself to be held. He moves closer, rests his head on Erwin’s chest.

The only thing on either man’s mind is how intrinsically right this felt.

“Will you stay the night?” Erwin murmurs, eyes growing heavy.

“I will,” Levi answers, suppressing a yawn of his own. “Happy birthday, Erwin,” He wishes him one last time for the night, right into his skin.

“Thank you, Levi.”