Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Erwin’s body aches as he heaves his heavy laptop satchel further up his shoulder and shoves his way through the front door of the apartment complex. There’s no lift - he’s not well-off enough to afford somewhere with working heating, nevermind a lift - so he lugs his heavy legs up the first step of the staircase and begins the inevitable ascent. In the second floor corridor he passes the lady who lives directly below him attempting to wrangle her two twin toddlers into coats and gives her an amicable smile that she tries to return, but her face is pulled into a perpetual worn-out grimace, so in actuality she just looks at him as if to say kids, right? Erwin doesn’t know if he looks old enough yet to seem like he knows what she’s on about. He doesn’t think he looks to be child-rearing age.

He slips around the corner and clambers up the last flight of stairs, his hand stuck into his pocket, fumbling for his keys as he reaches the door that reads 12A in faded paint. Across the hallway from him is 12B, who he’s never met, but considers his arch-nemesis for how often his mail gets incorrectly delivered to him. He checks his mailbox, and yes, there it is. The letter that inevitably reads ‘Apt. 12’, addressed to Mr. L Ackerman. He tuts and rolls his eyes, stuffs the letter into 12B’s letterbox and considers the benefits of knocking on Mr. L Ackerman’s door to remind him to add that all-important ‘B’ to the end of his address. And then he thinks about the social interaction of it all, and gives up on the idea immediately.

His flat is cold and dark and empty. Erwin flicks the lights on and throws his bag onto the couch next to all the other shit he hasn’t tidied up yet: his pile of dirty washing, his pile of clean washing (indistinguishable from the dirty washing) and the pile of clothes he’s been intending to sell on Vinted for three weeks now and still hasn’t touched.

The central heating chugs to life, the pipework groaning in the walls, and Erwin plants his ass firmly on the side of the sofa not covered in clothes. He cracks open a beer and stares at the TV, too lazy to even turn it on.

Dinner consists of takeaway. He picks his way through his shitty pad thai and watches whatever is on TV, some trashy reality programme that he doesn’t care for but can’t be bothered to turn off. At least when he goes back into the office tomorrow he’ll have something to talk about.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

It’s nine o’clock already. He drags his ass into the shower and scrubs the day from his skin like a disease, like it’s possible to somehow shirk his work responsibilities with soap and a Loofah. When he collapses into bed his body is red-raw and wet, droplets of water still clinging to his thighs.

Sleep does not come easily. For about an hour, Erwin tosses and turns. His blankets are too warm and stick to his damp skin. Two pillows are too many and one is not enough. His brain won’t stop whirring, trapped in an endless cycle of attempting to predict what will happen at work tomorrow and still trying to figure out the shit he hadn't got around to today. It sends him into an anxious spiral, frustrates him, and worst of all, keeps him awake.

By the time midnight rolls around he’s given up on sleep. He grabs his phone from his bedside table, squinting as the screen illuminates the white walls of the bedroom and half-blinds him. Twitter only keeps him occupied for half-an-hour before he’s even more bored and frustrated. A Pedro Pascal thirst trap edit plays on repeat to some song he’d know if he was young enough to care about TikTok. He stares at it blankly, watches the looping footage of the societally-dubbed heartthrob. Erwin’s eyes vaguely take in the dips of his abs and his hairy chest. Pedro winks at him through the screen.

Fine, he thinks. Just quickly.

He can’t bring himself to feel shame as he navigates his phone to an incognito tab and taps on the link to PornHub. He’s too old to be worrying about getting walked in on. He’s lived alone for years. If he wanted, he could stick this shit on his TV screen with the volume all the way up and nobody would bother him about it. He flicks through the videos, tries to find something remotely appealing, his hand already ghosting the tip of his cock under the bedsheets, half-hard (because shit, yeah, maybe Pedro Pascal is a bit of a heartthrob). He doesn’t even know what he’s looking for. He has no right being picky given that he’s a single man pushing thirty, but he still turns his nose up at most of it. He’s exhausted and frustrated and bored. It’s not the kind of night to deep dive into some fetish video he doesn’t even know if he’ll find arousing.

His thumb stops scrolling half-way down his screen.

A solo video. Faceless guy, well-built. Small body, curvy hips. Trail of neat black hair running from below his navel to his cock, stiff and hard and pierced. Legs - long, with milky plump thighs - pushed back over his shoulders. In his hand, a pastel pink dildo bigger than his goddamn forearm.

Erwin doesn’t feel shame, no. But his face still flushes red when the preview for the video plays and he watches the small man’s hole twitch, flutter, as he lets lube dribble over it and between his cheeks. He circles the tight muscle with the tip of the toy, and then the video cuts off, because Erwin has already tapped on it without even thinking.

Is it as big as yours, babe? The title of the video asks Erwin, and he feels like laughing, because no, of course not. The toy has to be bigger than ten inches and he can’t take his eyes off it as soon as the video starts, as the man leans back against his white bed sheets and spreads his legs, revealing his prepped, pink little hole. His cock bounces against his abdomen when he breathes, the rise and fall of his sculpted muscles making Erwin’s cock stir in his hand. He heaves a sigh and grips the base of it, pumps over the length slowly and stifles a grunt as his fingers ghost over the plump bulge of his head. Quickly, he squirts a little lube from his bedside drawer (mostly unused) into the palm of his hand and grabs himself again. The cold liquid makes him shudder, but soon warms as he moves his palm up and down his length.

The guy in the video is already two fingers deep in himself. He’s got long, slim hands and when he curls his fingers into his hole his entire body twitches like it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever felt. Erwin’s brows furrow and he wonders how the guy would react riding his own thick fingers, likely twice the size of his. He could stretch him so much further than he stretches himself. He could curl his fingers and bring him to orgasm with only his hand, no need for some ridiculous toy that only exists for the sake of the camera.

When the man slips his fingers from himself, lube pours from his loose hole and leaks onto the bed sheets beneath him. He whispers a shaking moan and Erwin drinks up the sound, uses it to stir his brain back to life, to speed up his pace. He squeezes the base of his cock with each pump, eliciting a low groan from his lips as his cock twitches with anticipation. He is only a man after all. More than anything, he needs to see this little twink stuffed full.

As if he can read his mind through the screen, the man presses the head of the dildo to his perky ass. One of his slim hands grips the pert flesh of his cheek, pulling himself as wide as possible. His hole gapes, leaks sticky lube onto the tip of the toy, rendering it shiny with moisture. Erwin licks his lips and holds his breath - for what reason, he’s not sure - as the man finally penetrates himself with the first inch of the pink mass. His pale neck tilts backwards and Erwin sees the short black hairs of an undercut on his nape. He’d give anything, he thinks, to see this man’s face. Anything to see the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes, the parting of his pretty lips, the flush travelling to his cheeks. But for now, he tugs harder on his cock, blocks out the distracting sound of his lube slicked hand, and focuses on the way the man takes the toy with ease, as though it’s nothing to him, as though he could take more if he wanted. His greedy hole practically sucks the toy into his body, and he stretches his pale legs wider, gives the camera a full view of his cock leaking pre-come onto his toned abs, of his plump thighs trembling.

Erwin exhales a cut-off grunt and begins to feel the warmth build in his abdomen. He swallows heavily, heat fizzing behind his cheeks, his hand restlessly tugging his length from base to tip with each pump. His eyes fixate on the man’s hand, the way he holds the base of the dildo with his pretty, slim fingers, the way he pumps it in and out of himself with the smallest, breathiest little moans, the way his chest shudders for each inch he stuffs inside of himself. He pulls the toy out to its tip and Erwin groans, watches lube pool out of his ass and soak the sheets, watches as presses the entirety of it inside himself again, down to the hilt. Erwin finds himself squeezing the head of his cock tightly, poorly mimicking how it would feel to be inside that tiny little hole.

The man flips over gracefully and presents his plump ass to the camera, his knees planted firmly onto the bed, and yes, Erwin was right, he does have a neatly trimmed black undercut, and he has no idea why but knowing that turns him on even more. His arm is behind himself, and he’s pulling the toy out again, all the way, so that Erwin can see the way it leaves his hole gaping, dripping, his cheeks smeared with lube as he rubs the pink plastic against them. There’s a pretty translucent sheen to his thighs where they’ve been coated with the liquid and Erwin thinks he would pay money to be between them, to have them wrapped around his waist, to stuff his head right there and ask the man to sit on his face, eat that fucking beautiful little hole out until he can’t breathe and have his last moments staring at the cute mole on the inside of his right thigh - and no, fuck - it’s a tattoo, it has to be, because it’s shaped like a love heart and Erwin thinks he might be in love-

His hand has slowed to a complete stop over his length and yet despite this his orgasm still washes over him in a shuddering wave, cresting with his hips raised off the bed, needy, with nothing to fuck, nothing to coat with his come other than the palm of his hand. He turns his head to the side and grunts into his pillow, his eyes squeezed shut, his hips stuttering and eventually slowing to a halt, collapsing back onto his mattress. He releases the inside of his cheek from the grip of his teeth, vision adjusting to find himself blankly staring at the white, undecorated walls.

On his phone screen, the man is shuddering, working himself with the entire length of the toy. Erwin switches the video off and lays in the silence.

Two days later, Erwin finds himself in bed, frantically searching for the same exact video.

For an hour, he flips from one video to the next, attempting to stir his dick to life, but every man is either too big or too small or too hairy or too clean-shaven or something, anything, is wrong with them. It’s cruel, of course. These men are attractive. But Erwin’s mind keeps drifting to pale thighs and breathless whimpers and white bed sheets and that goddamn undercut, neat black hairs cropped close to the skin. He doesn’t remember the guy’s name, so he scrolls through PornHub’s recommended tab for what feels like hours looking for the thumbnail that enticed him so easily in the first place, his eyes glazing over the rest. It borders on obsession, and just when Erwin is about to stop scrolling and question what he’s doing with his life, he sees it.

Eli Love.

It’s the first thing he checks. He’s never forgetting that name.

He taps on the name before he even thinks to look at the video. Eli’s whole profile is faceless, just his body on display, but what a body. All long limbs and toned muscle and slim, dipped hips. He’s like every wet dream Erwin’s ever had come true, dressed up in a pretty pink bow, sinking his perky ass onto a dildo that nobody should ever be able to take.

He doesn’t even know where to start.

His dick is twitching in his hand expectantly just from the thumbnails. Eli with his legs spread, with his ass perched on the end of his neatly made bed or his swanky wicker sofa with the pink fluffy cushions. Dressed in stockings, dressed in booty-shorts that cling to his cock, covering it in fresh cream linen. Dressed in a tiny little skirt that covers nothing, panties that frame his pretty little hips. It wouldn’t be unfair to call him effeminate, and Erwin’s never gone in for that sort of thing, but his whole body is sculpted in hard, toned muscle that turns his curvy figure masculine in all the right places. Erwin’s glory days are well past him. His once fit body is fading into middle-aged (if twenty-nine was considered middle-aged) and he thinks Eli could run a fucking mile around him in terms of stamina. He imagines trying to keep up with him as he chooses a video at random. Imagines trying to pleasure him as he skips hastily through the advert. The thought is laughable.

Eli’s pretty legs are once again on display as soon as the video loads, this time clad in translucent white nylon held in place by a lacy garter-belt that frames his lovely hips. Erwin swallows and palms at his cock, feeling the familiar sensation of pre-come beading at his slit. His face is hot. His chest is hot. Eli grabs his cock through the pair of white panties he wears and the heat travels downwards into his abdomen instantly. He grips the base of his cock between his fingers and reminds himself, as he does daily, that he’s twenty-nine. To come almost immediately from porn would be… he’d have to have a serious think about his life.

Eli coos a deep groan through his phone’s speakers and he grits his teeth, starting to move his hand once more. He - stupidly - matches Eli’s pace, a pathetic attempt to pretend that this fantasy is a two-way street, and not an unhealthy obsession that he’s developed over the course of two days. Erwin grunts and Eli meets his arousal with a shuddering moan of his own, wetting the fabric of his panties with the come beading at the head of his cock. He hooks his thumbs neatly into the waistband of the lingerie and slides it down, his dick flicking out of the fabric and hitting his toned belly with a satisfying smack. The tip is rosy and wet, and Erwin’s eyes linger on it, on the vein that adorns the underside of his length, at the metal studs that rests on his slit and his shaft, at the small mole, tattoo, whatever, that decorates the inner plane of his milky thigh. Eli shifts his hips and Erwin sees it, the jewelled plug that sits tightly in his twitching hole, pale blue and covered in rhinestones. It sparkles when he moves, when he lifts his hips and spreads himself apart for the camera, his panties looped around one thigh. He plays the fantasy of the half-dressed innocent whore so well, all demure moans and shy movements, and Erwin is sucked in, his pace over his cock quickening.

It’s when Eli lifts his legs back and presses them to his shoulders, holding them there with his palms pressed to the back of his thighs, that Erwin can’t fucking contain himself. He squeezes his palm over the head of his cock and keeps his eyes glued to the screen, drinking in every part of Eli; his cock bobs as he teases the plug from his hole, and Erwin notices that his nails are painted a pastel blue that matches the exact hue of the toy, small rhinestones twinkling on his ring fingers. Stupidly, he wonders if anybody has ever noticed that before.

Erwin’s hips lift from the bed and he fucks into his palm, letting his head fall back just enough to still keep his eyes trained on Eli’s display. His hole stretches over the thickest part of the plug before it suddenly releases from his body with a lube-slicked pop and all Erwin can do is suck air in through his teeth, watch as Eli sinks three fingers into the space left behind by the toy all at once. He moans like a fucking angel and throws his head back, and of course Erwin can’t see his face, but he can hyperfixate on the tremble of his Adam’s apple, imagine the expression he would make if Erwin sank his cock into him. He fantasises about long lashes and parted lips and a cut-off moan, about his back arched just as it is now, about those neatly painted nails digging into the expanse of his bicep as he comes apart split in two on Erwin’s dick.

Eli curls his fingers inside himself and strokes his prostate with a frantic sort of fervour and Erwin doesn’t need to see his face to know the way his lips hang open in a pretty little “O”, to know that his brows are knitted together, chasing his high, chasing his orgasm with a desperate need. His whole body twitches and Erwin grips the head of his cock tightly, staving away his own climax until he sees it, until Eli finally spills over his own hand, paints his stomach with thick white ribbons of his come. Erwin finally falls over the edge, his hair splayed across his forehead, his chest sweaty and heaving his shaking breaths as he tugs himself through his orgasm. His phone falls, hits his pillow, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when his orgasm is ebbing away and his ceiling is staring back at him, asking him to question what the fuck he’s doing awake at 2a.m. jerking off to some twink in white lace lingerie.

And then he scolds himself for calling Eli some twink because he’s the most alluring man he’s ever laid eyes on.

The paperwork keeps climbing higher.

To call it paperwork is stupid, actually. It’s emails from middle-management and Microsoft Teams messages and “Can we quickly touch base on this?”. It’s driving him insane and at the same time keeping him grounded. Erwin thinks about his flat - cold and empty. He thinks about how his best friend got married last year. Then he stops thinking and digs back into work because at the very least, it’s distracting.

At three o’clock he drags his ass to the coffee machine and prepares for a long one. The bi-monthly progress meeting never goes quickly, and as he steps into the glass-surrounded room with its tacky mid-century modern rounded table with his laptop under one arm, he knows this one will be the same. The board of directors has made an unwelcome appearance for some unknown goddamn reason, and everybody looks nervous. He takes his seat beside a co-worker who’s name he can’t remember, opens his laptop, and looks busy whilst the rest of the brass shuffles in.

“Folks,” The Vice-CEO - CFO? COO? Erwin can’t remember - begins, and from there, his brain turns to mush. It’s a long drawl about profits and quarterlies and the Vice CEO-CFO-COO is rattling off business jargon like there’s no tomorrow, going on about bonds and shareholders like they’re all sat in a bad 80s office-based sitcom written by people who’ve never worked in an office. Erwin fixes his gaze on a stain on the wall right behind the projector and pretends to listen.

The drone of his boss’s voice and the hum of the LEDs seem to be at a million decibels. The familiar itch of frustration pounds at his temples and he’s certain it’s showing on his face. He forces his lips into a thin line, smooths the furrow in his brow, and stupidly, goes to his happy place.

His mind wanders.

Wanders where it shouldn’t given that he’s sat at work, but god, he’s been thinking about him for days.

The obsession has become unhealthy. He’s twenty-nine and he considers his libido at this point dead and buried. And yet, despite that, he’s seeking out Eli’s videos. Every four nights, at first, and then every two. At some point he’s not gonna be able to sleep without watching Eli fall apart on a piece of plastic or his own fingers, and he’s fairly certain that point will be soon.

The stain on the wall behind the projector blurs, and if he unfocuses his vision enough, he can pretend he’s looking at white bed sheets. The hum of the LEDs lessens the more he envisions them - pressed, smelling of fresh detergent, tucked tightly underneath the sides of the mattress. So neat, only to be ruined, soaked with -

His face turns hot and he tries to pull himself away to little avail. He’s already there in that room, the lighting dim, bordering on romantic. Eli’s legs are spread enticingly, his little pink hole fluttering like it does whenever he finds himself empty. His face - the one that Erwin’s made up for him - melds into desperation and he fixes him with those eyes, begging, pleading, to be filled. His lips part and he whispers Erwin’s name soft and slow, as though he’s embarrassed to say it, as though he’s embarrassed to ask. He’d never need to be embarrassed. Erwin would give him anything. He’d give him the world. He’d certainly give him his cock.

Erwin tells him it’s fine, there’s no need to be shy, just ask. And Eli does. Well, he laughs at first, breathless and shaking. And then his hand drops to his ass and he pulls his cheeks apart, his hole already dripping with slick lube, dribbling over his pretty painted fingernails and soaking the sheets below.

“Erwin… fuck me?”

The scraping of chair legs against linoleum pulls him back. He’s been staring at the wall for god knows how long and it’s over - the meeting’s over - and he’s sat here with half a stiffy ‘coz he’s been thinking about some pornstar that doesn’t even know who he is.

He takes a half-day. Says he’s feeling ill and bites his tongue when a co-worker comments that he does “look stuffy”. He spends the entire car ride home with his leg bouncing over the clutch and almost stalls three times. He barrels up the stairs, takes them two at a time, shoves Mr. L Ackerman’s bullshit letters into his bullshit letterbox and slams the door behind him.

As soon as he’s through the door he’s pulling his phone from his pocket. Pathetic, like he’s eighteen again, like he can’t contain himself. But Jesus, he can’t contain himself. He dumps his bag by the front door and strips on his way to the bedroom, leaving his clothes laying on the floor because he’s a slob, he’s a goddamn porn-addicted slob living on his own so, really, who’s gonna give a shit if he leaves his boxers on the living room floor?

He flops onto the bed, naked, and pretends the sheets smell like fresh detergent. His cock is already half hard and he reminds himself how pathetic that is as he hunts down Eli’s PornHub profile. There’s nothing new since he last looked. The video he watched last night stares back at him and he bites the inside of his cheek.

He questions how pathetic it would make him to pay for porn.

It’s been on his mind for a while. Eli has a link to his OnlyFans in his bio. He puts it at the start of every video, and every single time, Erwin scoffs and thinks he’s better than that.

But he’s not. He’s really not. He’d give anything to see more of Eli.

And what else is he spending his money on, anyways?

He tries his best not to question his life choices when he puts his bank details in. Tries his best to think that it’s just this once - that as soon as he’s got his fix, he’ll cancel his subscription and never fork out another £7.99 to look at some guy’s dick on the internet. And once more, he reminds himself that Eli is not some guy. That he’s possibly everything Erwin has ever wanted in a man, wrapped up in a pair of lacy white panties and oil-slicked stockings, and holy fucking shit, he has his face on his OnlyFans.

He’s beautiful.

God, he’s beautiful.

Erwin doesn’t even have the time to remind himself he’s being pathetic.

Eli’s got renaissance-like features. A jawline as sharp as a knife and eyes to match, grey in colour and feline, almost glaring. His eyebrows are thin and tapered into a perfect arch, his nose sloped, small. He’s got the longest lashes Erwin has ever seen on a man, and it has to be make-up, right, that gives his cheeks that dusted pink roundness? His lips are pretty and parted and exactly how Erwin imagined them, wet with spit and hanging slightly open as he poses, his hole taking just the tip of a pretty jet-black dildo. It’s heavenly, the way his thighs hold up the weight of his body so easily. The way he fixes the camera with an almost uninterested sort of stare.

Is that what people find so alluring about him? His aloofness? Or is Erwin so down-bad for this twink that he’s imagining a whole personality for somebody who does not know he exists?

He taps on the first video he sees. It doesn’t matter what Eli’s wearing. It doesn’t matter what sort of toy he’s going to take himself apart with, split himself in two on. All that matters is that Erwin gets to watch his face whilst he does it.

It’s some pastel blue thing that he shoves inside himself. Erwin’s not looking. He’s not watching the stretch of his hole or the way the lube he’s poured inside himself gets pushed out around the toy. His eyes are fixated on Eli’s. Fixated on the way his plump lips pull into a narrow line when he first pushes the toy inside himself, the way his eyebrows furrow and his eyes flutter shut, his lashes dancing against his flushed cheeks. He pulls an expression of effort, of exertion, but Erwin knows better. He’s watched Eli do this a million times. He’s watched him fall apart over every piece of silicone in existence at this point and he knows for a fact that he could take a dildo twice the size of the one inside him. It’s acting, and he feels stupid, because of course it is. And still, despite that, it doesn’t stop the feverish pump of his hand over his cock.

He squeezes the tip in his palm and drinks in the sound of Eli’s breathless moans, made all the more arousing now that he can see them falling from his lips. His pace is stuttering, relentless, entirely uncoordinated but he’s more focused on keeping his eyes trained on the slight quirk of Eli’s mouth, the almost smile, to even think about bringing himself reliably to orgasm. Erwin flips over, so that his knees are planted against the mattress, and throws his phone onto the pillow, Eli’s figure splayed out on the screen below him. He moves his hips, not his hand. He erases the little blue dildo from his vision and replaces it with his cock, thick and red at the tip, leaking pre-come onto his sheets. To be inside him. To come inside him. To watch his come drip from his little hole, and to see the look of surprise on his face - eyes wide, lips parted, breath shuddering.To see the tremble of his thighs as he strokes himself to full mast again, and to fuck him once more, use his own come as lube, to watch it force out of his hole around the width of his cock and paint his ass white. He clenches his hand into a tight fist and fucks into it, eyes trained on his phone screen, on Eli’s face, now melding into a pleasured sort of concentration as he seeks his own orgasm. Erwin would get him there. He’d get him there. He’d rub the tip of his cock against his prostate over and over until he was squirming, writhing, begging to come. He wouldn’t even think about finishing until Eli had, wouldn’t chase his own pleasure until Eli was fully fucked out, dizzy and incoherent, slurring his name. He watches, eyes hazy, as Eli’s hole clenches around the toy, sucks it into himself until the base of it is barely visible, without even using his hands. And then he finishes, beautifully, breathlessly, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips hanging open and Erwin imagines pulling his cock from his hole and sticking it in his open mouth, catching him off-guard, coming down his throat mid-orgasm and watching him gag.

He finishes into his clenched palm and lets his head hit the pillow.

Sweat drips from his brow and his face is flushed red.

Eli’s sighing beside him. Erwin closes his eyes and pretends to feel the warmth of his body next to him.

The sun is shining through his bedroom curtains and Erwin does not feel like waking up.

Saturday, he thinks, is the day that functional people catch up on everything they didn’t have time to do during the week. Like laundry. And dishes.

On Saturday, Erwin Smith rots in bed.

He wakes up at 1pm and jerks off. And when he’s done with that, he lets the shame wash over him and finally decides to get a shower.

The hot water scalds his skin and he uses it to scrub the embarrassment away. Coffee and breakfast come next, both of which he orders in. He stares long and hard at the pile of clothes on his sofa and decides he’ll do it some other time. Instead, he sits on his ass, cracks a beer at 3pm, and boots up his PS5. He is living the life every eighteen year old boy dreams of and he’s not sure it’s a good thing.

5pm brings a knock at his door.

Grouchy, he tosses his controller aside and drags his feet through the flat. The peephole of his door reveals the visage of a very impatient delivery driver and he tries to remember if he bought anything recently. The guy’s holding a large rectangular parcel and before he even opens the door, he knows it’s not for him.

Still, he opens the door anyway.

“Uhhh, Levi Ackerman?” The delivery guy asks.

Erwin opens his mouth to speak but the parcel’s already being foisted into his hands and the delivery guy’s taking out his scanner-thingy to take a picture and darting away like the package contains a goddamn bomb. He’s left standing in the doorway, parcel in hand, staring directly at the door of Apartment 12B who he probably has every right to be angry at, because yeah, of course when he looks down at the address on the parcel it reads Apt. 12. As usual.

He should leave it in the corridor.

He should just prop it up outside his door and let him find it later. Or, better yet, let it get stolen.

He should also probably say something to Mr. L Ackerman about the importance of adding that goddamn ‘B’ to his address.

There’s no point in checking whether he’s presentable to talk to his asshole neighbour, so Erwin steps across the hallway in his shitty vintage slogan t-shirt and joggers like he owns the entire building and for the first time, knocks. Does Mr. L Ackerman know that the only reason he’s been receiving his mail for the past six months is because Erwin is nice enough not to throw it in a shredder? He stands there for all of ten seconds before knocking again, his impatience getting the better of him. From inside the flat, there’s a scuffling of feet against hardwood floor and the unmistakable meowing of a cat - a cat that he’s not allowed, because it’s a No Pets complex, and Erwin is almost tempted to let his pettiness get the better of him and mention that too.

And then the door opens.

And any plan he had about what he was going to say exits his mind in a matter of milliseconds.

Because he knows this face.

And he knows this body.

And he knows this black undercut.

And he knows, now, that it is a tattoo and not a mole.

“Yeah?” Eli - Levi - says.

Erwin’s mouth opens and closes and he’s sure he looks like a goldfish and he’s getting a weird look and his heart is beating abnormally hard and his face is very fucking flushed-

“Um.” He starts, and it’s a start, at least. He attempts to fix his face, attempts to calm down. Attempts to look as though he hasn’t seen every inch of this man’s body as recently as this morning. “I, uh. Live next door.”

“I know.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Erwin chuckles sheepishly. His heart is somewhere in his throat.. “Um. Your mail keeps… uh. You know you put your address as, um, apartment twelve? On, like… everything?”

Levi’s eyes narrow as he tries to piece together what Erwin is trying to say from his stuttered, garbled mess of words. “Oh.” He says eventually. Flatly. Erwin feels his face go even hotter. “My bad. Is that mine?”

He’s pointing to the parcel tucked underneath Erwin’s arm and Erwin suddenly feels very weird holding it. What was a shitty 3am Amazon purchase two seconds ago could suddenly be just about anything.

“Uh. Yeah. Sorry.” Erwin says, offering up the parcel. The cardboard box feels hot against his fingertips and he has the sudden urge not to let go. To keep it. Or to look inside, see what it is. See if it makes an appearance soon in one of Eli’s - Levi’s - videos. Or maybe, maybe, it is just a shitty 3am Amazon purchase, because like he’s been reminding himself - fantasising about - for the past month, Eli is a real person. A real, normal person who lives directly next door to him. And he has a name and a cat and a snug looking jumper drooping off his right shoulder, revealing the pale expanse of his pretty collarbones.

Erwin’s not sure whether he suddenly feels overdressed or underdressed. He should’ve put jeans on. He should’ve brushed his hair. He should’ve shaved. Levi’s got on a pair of fabric shorts that are way too short and a grey crew-neck sweater that swamps his small figure - and god, yeah, he’s small. He’s short as shit, actually, and the way he’s looking up at Erwin is sort of doing things to him because he’s seen those eyes before - sharp, glistening, shimmering melted mercury from under his long, long lashes. And yet he’s never seen this look, this expression: unimpressed and stern and sort of impatient, and Erwin must be some sort of masochist or maybe just incredibly pitiful because it’s kind of turning him on to be glared at.

Silently, he hands over the parcel.

Silently, he considers the benefits of moving house forever.

He doesn’t know how he’s meant to exist knowing the man of his dreams is twenty metres away from him at all times.

“Thanks.” Levi says, and his lips are pulled into a thin sort of line. His cat - the one he shouldn’t have - is purring and rubbing itself against his shins and that’s about the point that Erwin realises Levi is barefoot, and it’s not like he has a thing for that specifically, but just about anything to do with Levi is enchanting. Especially when he’s seen the soles of those feet pushed behind this man’s head like a goddamned contortionist. “Anything else?”

“Uh.” Erwin supplies, helpfully. “No. Not really.”

“Okay. Well. Thanks.” Levi replies, and now he wishes there was something else, if only to stand here a little longer. If only to look at him a few seconds more.

But Levi’s shooing the cat back inside and closing the door.

And the corridor is empty.

And Erwin’s hands immediately go to cover his burning hot face.

He really couldn’t have fucked that up more.

“Dude, and he lives next door to you?”

He and Miche are about eight beers deep.

The lively drone of Oasis is banging through the walls of the shitty pub. It’s the only place that’s an equal distance between his and Miche’s works that isn’t a complete shithole. It’s a bit of a shithole, but still. It’s better than most other pubs, and doesn’t cost an arm and a leg, so he’ll put up with the garbage playlist that wouldn’t be out of place in a rugby lad’s uni accommodation.

“I swear to god.” Erwin hiccups, his hand clutched around the bottom of his half-drained pint glass. “Right next door.”

“Y’sure it’s not… like, a lookalike?” Miche slurs. “Twin brother? Doppelganger? Ha! Ganger. Gangbang. Dude, fuck, you’re like in love with a pornstar. That’s fucked, man.”

“I’m not in love with him.” Erwin defends, poorly. “And he’s not a doppelgangbanger. He has a tattoo. On his thigh.”

“I don’t need to know about this guy’s thighs, man.” Miche snorts. “So it’s, like, one-hundred percent him?”

“Yes. Yes. This is what I’ve been telling you.” He sighs. “I don’t… I have no idea what to do.”

“Nothing, man! The fuck?” Miche grins. “What, you gonna take him on a fuckin’ date?”

“No. He’s… so far out of my league.”

“That’s your issue? Not that he’s, like, fucking other men?”

“He doesn’t do that.” Erwin sighs. “It’s solo stuff.”

“Is that a gay thing? I feel like that’s a gay thing.”

“Female pornstars do solo stuff too.” Erwin tuts. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Because you’re in love with a pornstar, Vinnie.”

“You’re being very unhelpful.”

“Do you want me to tell you to go for it?” Miche chuckles.

“I want you to tell me… I don’t know. I just want you to listen.”

“I’m listening, man.”

Erwin’s sure that venting about this is unhelpful, too, but he does it anyway. For a long-ass time. Miche, thankfully, just listens. Listens and nods as he goes into probably way too much detail about Eli - Levi - Whateveri: about how laying eyes on him turns his entire body hot, about how he hasn’t watched a single one of his videos since he found out about their proximity, because somehow now it feels like… a violation of privacy. About how, despite the fact that he’s been going cold turkey on watching Eli, he thinks about him every goddamn day. About how he spends every waking minute at work with him on his mind.

“He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” Erwin finishes abruptly. “I would give literally anything to just… be near him. I’d chop my goddamn arm off if it meant he’d look at me.”

“You’re very drunk.” Miche says, like he’s not.

“Were you like this? With Nan?” Erwin asks. “Is this normal?”

Miche’s lazy grin slides into something more affectionate and he leans back in his seat, his eyes fixating somewhere on the table that Erwin’s vision is too blurry to find. His face is set into a gentle smile, and he rolls his eyes like it’s a pain to admit.

“Yeah, man. Course I fuckin’ was.” Miche shrugs. His gaze travels to the ring on his left ring finger, the one that Nanaba had given him at the altar, dressed in her beautiful gown with an elated smile on her lips. “She’s the love of my fucking life, man. I’m fucking obsessed with her. It’s normal.”

“Shit. Yeah.” Erwin groans. “Yeah. It’s normal. I’m normal and I’m not going insane.”

“Uh-huh.” Miche nods, unconvinced. “I’m getting us an Uber.”

It turns out, Erwin doesn’t need to chop off his arm.

Because three days later, Levi looks at him.

He even talks to him.

It’s a Saturday. Erwin has showered already - thank god - and even got dressed. He’s juggling his keys in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other and it sort of makes him look put together, like he’s the sort of person that does food shops regularly. Maybe that’s why, when Levi’s front door flies open in a hurry, he deigns to grace Erwin with his attention.

“Fuckin’ cunting shit!” Levi spits. And then his eyes settle on Erwin, and he offers a terse, “Hey.”

He’s dressed in a pair of light blue jeans and a white knitted woolen jumper. He looks goddamn angelic and Erwin doesn’t know how to respond to a greeting that consists of three separate curses.

“Oh, hi.” He settles on, and then cringes. Is ‘hi’ too familiar? Is he too old for ‘hi’? “Are you, uh, good?”

“Fucking, no, shit.” Levi frowns. “Hey - fuck - uhhh. Y’know when the entirety of downstairs flooded because somebody’s shower fucking exploded? That was you, right?”

Erwin’s brain buffers and his heart is pounding and his hands are still holding his keys sort of limply halfway to his door. He remembers the shower incident well. A month into moving in, his shower gave up on life. The entirety of the shower head burst off the piping and flooded his bathroom, and coincidentally, the woman’s flat below him. His face goes red and he averts his gaze sheepishly to the side. Great. Levi knows him as the guy who’s shower exploded.

“Oh. Uh. Yeah.” He nods. “That… yeah, that was me.”

“Oh, fucking excellent. Okay. Did you get it sorted that day?” Levi asks. “Cuz my shower just fucking croaked it and I need it, to be like, not dead. Did the landlord send a plumber? Or did you have to get one?”

“I just, uh. Fixed it. Myself.”

Levi’s eyes do a weird sort of thing where they flick up and down, taking him in. Erwin suddenly feels like he’s standing naked with his cock hanging out for some reason.

“Shit.”

“I mean,” He starts, and shit, he’s not thinking before he speaks, which is dangerous and stupid because he’s not quite sure what he’s about to say. “I can, um. Have a look. If you wanted.”

Levi looks him up and down again. And then he does something even weirder, because despite everything, despite the hours of content Erwin has watched with this man in it, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen it before. His lips curl up into a smile.

“Are you being serious?”

“Yeah. I’m not, uh, busy or anything.” Erwin nods, then gestures dumbly to the bag of groceries. “Let me just…”

“Sure. Yeah.” Levi nods.

“Cool.” Erwin replies. He’s too old to be saying ‘cool’, surely. “Give me a sec.”

The door closes behind him when he steps inside.

And then the panic begins.

He tries, as calmly as possible, to place the bag of groceries down on the kitchen counter. He tries to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth as he makes sure the perishables are tucked away neatly inside his fridge. And he tries, to little avail, to stop his hands from shaking and his heart from swelling into what could quite easily be cardiac arrest.

Do people have heart attacks at thirty? He feels like this might be it. That this is the end for him. Killed off by a twink in a cute jumper and a nice smile. A fitting end, he thinks.

Levi’s waiting for him. Levi’s waiting for him, and he’s stood here making jokes. The man he swore to chop an arm off for is waiting and he’s pratting about his kitchen trying not to faint because he’s a pathetic, pitiful, desperate husk of man masquerading as competent -

“Hey. Sorry.” He says as he steps out into the corridor once more. He’s got a makeshift toolbox tucked under one arm that usually lives in the back of his boiler closet, untouched unless something decides to break.

“It’s fine.” Levi says. “Um. My place is - uh - a mess. Sorry.”

Erwin already knows Levi’s place is not a mess. He’s seen Levi’s place before. He’s seen the meticulous way his bedsheets are folded, tucked in with hospital corners. He’s seen the symmetrical placement of throw pillows on his settee.

He follows Levi in through the front door.

His apartment is spotless, of course. And yeah, it’s all there. The wicker sofa and its accompanying pink throw cushions. The end table, brass - fancy, but showing signs of age, like it was picked up from a flea market or an antiques shop. The woven rug on the floor, not a speck of dirt on its pale green and white fabric.

There’s more, too. Stuff Erwin’s never seen. Stuff behind the camera.

A cat tree and a litterbox. Paintings on the walls. A TV, and a gutted fireplace, filled to the brim with flower pots housing succulents of all shapes and sizes. There’s a kitchen - immaculate, smelling of cleaning products - and a windowsill adorned with a small herb garden. It’s spotless, yes, but to an almost compulsive extent. Everything is symmetrical and there’s not a thing out of place: the TV remote is placed at a crisp ninety-degree angle to the TV, the potted plants are arranged in size order. There’s not a single piece of clothing littering the floors. It is the exact opposite of the hovel Erwin calls home.

“Your place is nice.” Erwin offers, which is a dumb thing to say, because -

“It’s the exact same as yours.” Levi shrugs. “I assume.”

“Well, sort of.” He backtracks. “It’s cleaner.”

Levi does sort of a half snort and Erwin’s cheeks flush red. His gaze tears from the room, tears from the family photos on the mantelpiece, and land on Levi instead. His head is cocked to one side slightly and he’s got that same look on his face, like he’s trying to figure something out. Brows furrowed. Lips pursed. Erwin feels like he’s being analysed in a lab, and it’s not helping that Levi’s ass looks amazing in those jeans.

Should he just say it? Like, ‘Hey, I know what you are’? Or would that be weird? Or is it weirder to know and not say anything at all?

Being in this flat feels like he’s ragging Levi’s privacy from his bare hands. He shouldn’t already know what throw pillows Levi has. That’s weird.

“So, like,” Levi says, and he’s leading Erwin through to the bathroom, which is also immaculate. He has one of those wooden board things over his tub that makes any bath look fancy. “The water’s not fucking, uh, coming out of the head? I guess? But I can hear it, like, in the walls. If that makes sense.”

Erwin’s brain shoots back into reality and he remembers why he’s here. Yeah, the shower, of course.

“Do you mind if I… like, take it apart a bit?”

“As long as you put it back together ‘coz I’ve got no fucking clue how to do it.”

“That… yeah. That was my intention.”

“Okay.” Levi replies. “I feel like a fucking asshole making you do this for me, y’know. Do you want a drink or something? Or money? I’m happy to, like, pay you.”

Erwin plants the makeshift toolbox on the floor and shakes his head. “I’m not a plumber.” He says. “I don’t even know if I’ll be able to fix it. I wouldn’t want you to pay me.”

“... So like, a beer, then?” Levi offers. “Is it too early for drinking? I can make you a coffee.”

Servitude has never been something that turns him on, and yet the thought of Levi making him a coffee brings heat to his face. Maybe it’s more of a Levi thing than anything else. Maybe, stupidly, he’s fallen for the least available man in existence, and that unavailability turns every word out of his mouth into something Erwin can’t get over. Obsession isn’t a nice word for this, but he can’t call it anything else. Not when he has to physically pull his eyes from Levi’s figure to turn to the shower.

“Sure. If it’d make you feel better.”

“It would.”

“Okay, then.” He smiles, and he thinks it’s all he can muster. A smile. If he opens his mouth any more he’ll say something stupid and mess this very delicate balance up.

Levi disappears from the bathroom. Erwin turns his attention to the task at hand and lets the sound of the kettle boiling distract him from his thoughts. He listens to the noise of cupboards opening and the ceramic of a mug against a countertop. Of teaspoons clinking in a drawer. He thinks of domesticity and his lack of it. And then he sets about fixing Levi’s goddamn shower, because really, what else is he here to do? Pretend, in some ideal world, that this could ever happen? Un-fucking-likely.

He takes a wrench to the piping of the shower-head and opens the thing up. There’s no limescale buildup, no mould, nothing that could be blocking the pipework. That makes sense, he supposes, given that every inch of Levi’s flat smells like cleaning products. He probably cleans the inside of this thing, which Erwin’s pretty sure nobody does but he wouldn’t put it past Levi. Bedsheets with hospital corners. Who does that?

There’s a door off to the side of the bathroom that remains closed. Erwin is one-hundred percent certain it’s the bedroom, given that the layouts of their flats are identical. His eyes glaze over the door handle each time he looks up from the shower’s innerworkings. He doesn’t know what he expects to find in there, really. Dildos lined up in ascending size order? How does somebody with extreme cleaning habits organise sex toys? He probably keeps them in a drawer somewhere, or a cupboard. He wouldn’t just have them out in the open. Same with cameras. Do his friends know what he does for work? Is Erwin the only person that knows? He doubts it.

“You want milk and sugar?” Levi calls from the kitchen.

His goddamn voice. Erwin can hear the lilt of his low tone even when he’s speaking normally. It was stupid to do this. It was very, very stupid to put himself in this position. Miche was right, as usual. He should’ve stayed far away from this. Easier to resist the temptation when the human equivalent of the apple from the Garden of Eden isn’t standing ten feet away from him.

“No, thanks.” Erwin calls back. “I’m sweet enough.”

Levi gives him a pity laugh and he takes it as a win. Better to be the slightly awkward guy from next door than to be anything else.

Levi places the mug of black coffee onto the countertop next to him, still wearing that same, analytical expression. Erwin wipes any form of recognition from his face because he needs to just be Levi’s neighbour. Levi’s well-meaning, unassuming neighbour. He’s never heard the name Eli Love in his life.

He takes a gulp from the mug. In his hand Levi holds his own mug that reads UNT in big, bold letters - the handle of the mug forms the “C” at the beginning of the word. It’s the kind of thing somebody wouldn’t buy for themselves. It’s either a gift from a friend or a partner. Selfishly, he prays it’s the former.

Oh, the irony.

The irony of being in his arguably favourite pornstar’s apartment, fixing his shower, playing the role of plumber. All he needs is a big handle-bar pornstache, a bad mullet, and a pair of dungarees. Maybe a terrible 80s soundtrack to go along with it all. He ought to waltz in and say something like, “Somebody call a plumber?” or, “Heard you needed your pipes cleaning”.

“Going well?” Levi asks, his lips perched on the rim of his mug. Erwin’s eyes focus on the fullness of them, the slight down-curve of his mouth. He realises he’s never seen Levi’s lips around anything before. Wouldn’t really work with solo stuff, he supposes. He also supposes the sight would be extremely arousing, and stops thinking about it.

“Yeah. You know your shut-off valve?” Erwin says.

“Mm. Nope.”

Erwin holds up a small piece of metal from inside the valve. “This thing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You see that little hole in it?”

“Yeah.”

“Right. Well. That, uh, shouldn’t be there.”

Levi quirks a brow and for a brief moment his lips turn up into a half-smile. Erwin thinks he might’ve said something funny, but he can’t tell.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah - fuck.” He agrees.

“Please don’t tell me I gotta get a whole new fucking shower.”

“You can just get a new one of these. As long as it’s the right size.”

“And the right size is, what, exactly?”

You tell me, Erwin thinks, and instead says, “Fifteen millimetres.”

“Fucking shit. Alright, let me write that down ‘coz I’ll fucking forget.”

“I mean,” Erwin starts, which is the wrong thing to do, because really he should be ending this interaction here. He should be calling Levi a real plumber and not an idiot with a toolbox. “I can… Order it for you, if you wanted. I know what you need.”

Levi’s fingernails - painted a pastel pink today, and Erwin wonders whether they match anything - tap against the rim of his mug. “I’d feel rude asking.” He says finally.

“You’re not asking.” Erwin points out. “I’m offering.”

Levi’s face twists into some adorable parody of thinking. He’s almost pouting. “You’ll let me pay you? For the valve part thingy?”

“Yes.” Erwin nods. “I’ll install it for you, too. If you want.”

“Are you sure?” Levi says. “If I’m asking too much of you, I’d want you to just fucking say that.”

Levi could never ask too much of him. Levi could ask him to drop to his knees and beg like a dog and Erwin would do it. Erwin would do anything to spend a few more seconds in Levi’s presence.

“You’re really not. It’d take, like… ten minutes.” Erwin shrugs. “I really don’t mind.”

“Shit. Alright, then.” Levi frowns. “Lemme pay you for those ten minutes, at least.”

“If it’d make you feel better.”

“It would.”

“Okay, then.” Erwin nods. “I’ll get it ordered for you. They’re cheap enough. Like thirty quid.”

“Sure. Just, uh. Text me whatever I owe you.” Levi nods. “Do you… want my number?”

Yes, Erwin thinks. Yes yes yes.

“Yeah, sure.” He says, and produces his phone from his pocket. He hands it over to Levi and watches those pretty pink nails tap against his screen, watches him input his name into his contact list with those all-important digits. It’s silly, really. He’s only ever going to text Levi for one thing. Once this interaction is over, they’re most likely never going to speak again.

“You’re good at this.” Levi tells him as he hands the phone back over. His contact is listed as Levi Apt12, without the B, and Erwin wonders if he could call that an inside joke. “DIY and shit.”

“Oh, uh, not really.” Erwin shrugs. He drains the last of the coffee from his mug and starts to clean up the mess he’s made - not well enough if the thin line of Levi’s lips are anything to go off of. “My uncle’s a plumber, so.”

“My uncle’s a mechanic.” Levi shrugs. “And a drug dealer. But mainly a mechanic. And I don’t know shit about mechanic-ing.”

Erwin attempts to figure out if Levi’s joking and gives up halfway through. “Know anything about drug dealing?” He asks instead.

“Ha. Good point.”

“Didn’t answer my question.”

“You might be a narc.”

“I’m not.” Erwin replies. “Not gonna say anything about your illegal cat operation you’ve got going on here.”

Levi’s lips turn up into what could be considered a smile, and strangely, he hides it behind his mug of tea. Erwin wishes, more than anything else, that he could see that smile daily. He rolls his eyes and there’s something affectionate in it. He thinks, maybe, he’s done well in cementing himself as awkward and dorky enough to evade Levi’s analysis.

“You’re funny.” Levi says, like it’s a fact and not his own opinion. “I like that.”

And all of a sudden, the illusion of dorky and unassuming is shattered. Because as soon as the words leave Levi’s lips, Erwin’s face flushes a burning red and he’s sure he looks far too happy to hear those words from someone who should be a stranger to him. He makes an attempt to straighten his flustered expression into something normal and fails spectacularly.

“Oh. Uh.” He manages. “Thank you.”

Levi’s eyes meet his own and there’s something there. Something like knowing. He feels caught, embarrassed. Seen. He doesn’t think he wants to be seen.

“Anyways. I should, uh…”

“Sure.” Levi says, and his voice is like silk, a one-up on his own flustered tone.

He doesn’t know why he says it, really. Maybe he’s trying to throw a curveball, appear more confident than he is. All he knows is that he regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth.

“That part - uh - might take a few days to get here.” He mentions. “In the meanwhile… I have a spare key. To mine. If you needed to… if you needed somewhere to shower.”

It’s Levi’s turn to go red, a small mercy given his own rouged cheeks. There’s a slight widening of his eyes, almost imperceptible if Erwin hadn’t spent so long hyperfixating on them for weeks now. His lips part, hidden behind his mug, and yeah, that’s it. That’s the expression he’d want to put on Levi’s face at any given moment.

“Huh?”

“I mean, if it’s, y’know, too familiar or whatever, I get it. But the offer’s there.”

Levi looks like he’s about to scoff and tell him to go do one. His rationale must kick in at some point, though. He must realise that his shower is, in fact, broken. That he has nowhere to get clean. And Erwin knows how dirty he can get.

“... Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“I take, like, really long showers.”

“I don’t mind.”

“... You’d let a stranger into your flat like that?”

“I have faith you won’t rob me.”

“I just told you my uncle’s a drug dealer.”

“Uh-huh.” Erwin nods. “You want the key or not?”

“Fuckin’ - yeah - alright.” Levi concedes. “Yeah, I do.”

“Great. I’ll get it for you.”

It takes all of Erwin’s willpower to not backtrack. Takes all of his willpower to not take a wrench to his shower and bludgeon it to make up some quick excuse as to why Levi can’t, in fact, use his shower. But he’s made his bed, and now he’s gotta sleep in it. It’s only when he realises that his bed is not made and his flat is a shithole that Erwin realises how stupid of a plan this is, if it could even be called a plan.

What’s the game here? Be a shoulder to lean on? Show Levi how he’s boyfriend material by unscrewing a few pipes and offering up his bathroom? Levi will run a mile as soon as he sees the state of his couch. In the time it takes him to cross the corridor and back to grab his spare key, Levi’s already cleaned up their mugs and the dust his toolbox left on the bathroom floor.

“I’m out Monday ‘til Friday, nine to five.” He tells him as he tosses the key across the kitchen counter. “If you give a shit about privacy.”

“Not really.” Levi replies. “Very bold of you to assume I don’t have nine-to-five, by the way.”

Erwin clicks his tongue to mask his slip-up and hopes it passes off as airheadedness. “I never see you in the mornings.” He defends, like it’s any sort of explanation.

“Maybe I’m up earlier than you.” Levi replies smoothly. “Longer commute.”

Levi lies through his teeth with ease, and that coupled with the glaring earlier is making Erwin question his preferences. “Maybe.” He says back. “I’ll text you your itemised bill.”

The joke manages to pull a half-laugh from Levi that cuts the tension, if there was any. Erwin might’ve been imagining it. He’s very tense. He’s not entirely sure Levi feels the same way. He moves with grace and ease, though they are in his flat. His territory.

“I’ll see you soon.” Levi smiles. “Quick question.”

“Mm?”

“... What’s your name?”

Erwin shouldn’t be surprised at the question, really. He never said it, did he? And clearly, unlike him, Levi doesn’t go through his mail on a daily basis - mostly because he knows how to write his address on things.

He laughs sheepishly like it’s not a big deal. Like it doesn’t hurt slightly that he knows two of Levi’s names and Levi knows none of his. “Sorry, I never said, did I?” He smiles. “Erwin.”

“Erwin.” Levi repeats. It rolls off his tongue and sends head fog to his brain and blood to his… cheeks. He’s never heard it before, not in Levi’s real voice. In the one he made up for him, sure. Never like this. “See you soon, Erwin.”

He hadn’t intended to spend his weekend cleaning his flat, but the situation calls for it.

The rest of Saturday consists of getting through the huge pile of clothes and dishes. He irons something other than his work shirts for the first time in months and re-organises his closet for the first time in years. Plates and cutlery are put away neatly in cupboards rather than left on the drying rack until the next time he needs them. He drives out to a charity shop in the evening and donates the huge pile of clothes he was intending to sell just to get them out of the way.

He vacuums. He dusts. He antibacs countertops and sprays air freshener and lights candles his mum bought him for Christmas to “liven the place up”, in her words. He washes his sheets and gives them hospital corners. Takes the food he bought this morning out of the fridge only to clean inside and put it all back in again. He scrubs his bathroom religiously, top-to-bottom, like a goddamn baptism. Or an exorcism.

By ten o’clock, he thinks he’s cleaned more in eight hours than he ever has in his whole life.

And it pays off.

Because on Sunday morning, there’s a knock at his door.

He stumbles his way from the coffee machine in the kitchen to the door and opens it without much thought. For a moment, he thinks he should’ve tried to freshen up, and then he reminds himself that there’s no point. Joggers and a raggedy t-shirt was Levi’s first impression of him, and if he’s being honest, it’s a pretty accurate impression. There’s not much use in pretending he’s something he’s not.

“Morning.” He greets Levi, who’s standing in his doorway, looking like he’s already had a goddamn shower. His hair is perfect and his face is perfect and his little short shorts are perfect and possibly illegal to wear in public.

“Good morning.” Levi says, and his voice doesn’t carry a hint of sleep. Light and airy like he’s been up for hours. He probably has been. It’s eleven in the morning. “Do you mind if I use your shower?”

“You can just let yourself in, you know.” Erwin replies. His voice sounds like shit.

“... It’d feel rude.” Levi shrugs. “I thought you said you did a nine-to-five.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“... I’m gonna get my towel.”

“I have towels.”

“Good for you.”

And then he’s gone, back into his flat, and Erwin just watches him leave because goddamn his ass is a work of art. He stands there, propping the door open, like a butler. Honestly, living life as Levi’s servant would be preferable to going into the office tomorrow. When he reappears, he’s carrying a bougie-ass towel and a little toiletries bag, because of course he’s the sort of person to have a designated toiletries bag. It’s pastel green and has SUPER-CALI-FUCK-I-LISTIC-EXPIALIDOCIOUS written on it. He wonders exactly how many kitschy swear-word based items Levi owns. He wonders, again, if they were a gift from a friend or a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. He doesn’t know Levi enough to assume.

“You didn’t have to wait for me.” He says. “I’m not precious.”

“I’m sure you’re not, but as you’re aware, these doors lock automatically.” Erwin huffs.

“You’re very sassy in the morning.” Levi replies effortlessly. “My Lady-in-Waiting.”

Erwin would turn his nose up at the comment if he had the decorum not to flush red at being called Levi’s anything. He’ll take what he can get.

Levi waltzes past him like he owns the place and Erwin lets him. He might as well lay down on the ground and let Levi walk over him. Though maybe that’s just a personal fantasy, because despite his colourful language, Levi’s… polite? Nice? Surprisingly so. And he doesn’t know why on earth he thought he’d be mean.

“I thought you said your place was a shithole.” Levi calls from somewhere near the bathroom, and only then does Erwin realise he’s still lingering by the door like it isn’t his flat.

“I said yours was cleaner.”

Levi laughs and there’s the sound of a door closing. The sound of his shower running. The sound of bare feet on tile.

Erwin sits on his bed and lets his head sink into his hands.

What a stupid goddamn plan.

Who’s idea was it, anyways, to invite somebody he has very strong and very complicated feelings for into his house? Into his bathroom? Because now, predictably, he’s sat here on his bed imagining exactly what Levi’s doing. Exactly what he’s wearing - or lack thereof.

Steam pours out from the crack under the door and Erwin watches it curl into the cold air. It unfurls and takes over the room in a matter of seconds, changes the frigidness of his flat into something warmer, something more inviting. Erwin’s mind goes foggy with the rest of the room and he falls backwards onto his bed, crumpling the sheets beneath him. His brain is filled with pale white skin and muscular curves and soaked black hair. He’s had these fantasies before, that’s nothing new. What’s new is that his fantasy is ten feet away from him and very real.

Right now, if he wanted to, he could walk over to his bathroom door. He could go inside. He could watch as Levi lathers whatever fancy shower gel he inevitably uses onto the contours of his body and wait until the scent of it fills the room, fills his entire flat. He tries to pin down a smell for Levi - coconut seems too mild and anything tropical seems too blatant. His flat smells like cleaning products more than candles. It’s a stupid thought to try and guess what Levi smells like. He has his dream man in his shower, soapy water running down the lines of his abs and mixing with the trail of black hair that Erwin knows runs from his navel to his cock, and here he is, trying to guess what brand of shampoo he uses.

He supposes, more than anything, it’s the proximity of it all. Because yes, Levi is incredibly attractive, and yes, Erwin is brimming with an ever-growing lust for the sharpness of his glare and the hard-set line of his lips. And yes, his dreams are becoming more and more consistent in their content - namely, Levi, face down on his bed, brows knitted, lips parted. But more than anything, he wants domesticity.

Stupidly, he has latched onto the idea of something more.

Something more than lust, something more than sex. Something more than the undeniable urge he has to see Levi in a multitude of positions, all naked.

The steam from the bathroom invades the room further and Erwin watches it catch the light streaming in through the open window. It forces its way into every corner, every nook and cranny of the four rooms he calls home.

It carries the scent of mint with it.

The shower turns off and Erwin stares at the ceiling blankly. He doesn’t know whether he should move, or what. He doesn’t know whether he should go to the kitchen and finish making his coffee. He doesn’t know whether he’s allowed to move when Levi is in his presence, or whether he should stay here, waiting to see if Levi needs anything.

What position would Levi find him most appealing in? Making breakfast? Folding laundry? He doesn’t think there’s anything he could do to make Levi look at him for longer than three seconds, whereas Levi can just exist and Erwin can’t take his eyes off of him. Worst of all, he doesn’t want to make it weird. He doesn’t want to do these things for Levi with the expectation of a reward. He wants to just be helpful.

“You good?”

The voice snaps Erwin out of his daze and his attention immediately falls onto its source.

Levi is standing in his doorway in nothing but a towel.

It hangs low around his waist and Erwin gets an eyeful of him, pale skin and hard, toned muscle. His pelvic lines sink deep into his figure and carve a line that disappears under the soft fabric of the dark green towel. Beads of water cling to his skin and Erwin watches in awe as a single drop cascades over his collarbone and trails over the protruding expanse of his pecs, then further, to his ribs, and his abs, until it settles into the inset of his pelvis.

He rips his eyes away before it gets weird. He’s pretty sure he already made it weird, actually, but he attempts not to make it weirder. Levi cocks his head to one side and water drips from his hair. Is it weird that Levi’s walking around his flat in a towel or is it weirder that he’s looking? A normal person would bring clothes, right? Yet Levi stands, half naked, barely covered, like it’s nothing. Erwin tries to figure out if it’s a byproduct of Levi’s career to not be bothered by nudity or whether this is the something more that he’s been craving, and then reminds himself that he’s a single, twenty-nine year old out-of-shape salaryman.

Levi is not trying to draw his gaze.

Erwin is just being weird.

“M’fine.” He replies briskly.

Levi looks at him like he’s not fine and Erwin tries to fix his face into something neutral. For a second, Levi looks as though he might ask further. But he doesn’t, and Erwin pretends it doesn’t bother him. Pretends like he doesn’t mind that he and Levi aren’t close, that they’re barely acquaintances, not even friends.

“Aight.” Levi says. “See you later?”

“Mm.”

Levi takes his bougie towel and his little bundle of clothes and his toiletries bag and leaves.

Erwin stares at the spot he’d been standing and buries his face in his hands.

Chapter Text

On Monday, Levi posts a new video.

Erwin doesn’t watch it.

He says nothing when Levi asks to use his shower that evening.

On Tuesday, a delivery driver arrives. He’s still dressed in his work clothes and he gives up on changing as soon as he hears the rapping of knuckles against wood. The driver hands him a small cardboard box and he tears it open whilst still standing in the doorway. He looks inside, and the metal, circular valve stares back.

It takes him no time at all to knock on Levi’s door.

The quicker he gets this over and done with, the quicker this whole thing ends.

He can go back to being a hermit and pretending he doesn’t know Levi exists. And then maybe, maybe, he’ll be able to stop thinking about him.

Levi’s door opens and he stands in the outfit of Erwin’s dreams, which is admittedly just a pair of shorts and an oversized jumper, but his eyes are immediately drawn to the tattoo on his thigh once more. He wrenched his gaze away and holds up the box.

“You called for a plumber?” He asks.

Levi snorts and rolls his eyes. “Did you just get home?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You don’t wanna do this later?”

“Now’s fine.” Erwin shrugs. “If it’s a good time for you.”

Levi shrugs, too. “Now’s good.” He agrees, and holds open the door to let Erwin in. “You gonna take off your tie?”

“Helps me work.” He jokes half-heartedly, stepping through into the corridor and making his way to the bathroom. He tries not to look at the entirety of Levi’s flat as he passes, lest the visions of every single position he’s ever seen him in start to pop up in his mind all over again.

“If you say so.” Levi tuts as he follows him through. About halfway, he stops to scoop up his cat into his arms, holding it against his chest as it incessantly meows at the new presence. “You want a drink?”

“I’m good.”

The bathroom is just as pristine as the last time he saw it just a few days ago. What’s new is that Levi’s bedroom door is open just a crack. Through the slit, he can see pressed white bed sheets, pillows, a pretty sage green rug. Stuff he’s never bothered to lay eyes on before. He sets down the toolbox and starts to take apart Levi’s shower piece-by-piece, slinging his tie over one shoulder. Probably should’ve taken it off, actually. Probably shouldn’t have got himself mixed up in this whole thing to begin with, either. Lots of things he probably should’ve or shouldn’t have done.

Levi hovers in the doorway with his head cocked to the side, all-analytical and all-seeing. It’s the exact expression that had Erwin so nervous, wondering whether or not Levi knew that he knew. He wants to say that he can’t bring himself to care, but even still, Levi’s eyes burn hot on the back of his neck.

“I’m making dinner. Do you want something to eat? As a thank you?”

Erwin stalls halfway through disassembling a pipe. “Um. That’s very kind, but-”

“Great. I’m gonna make you some.” Levi concludes quickly, cutting him off before he can even start to think of an excuse. He disappears from the bathroom doorway and busies himself in the kitchen, and Erwin stares blankly at the tiled backsplash.

Instead of focusing on how he’s going to get through dinner, he fixes the goddamn shower. It takes all of half-an-hour to install the new valve, and ten minutes more to put the whole thing back together again. He steps to the side in case the entire thing explodes, turns the knob, and watches as water pours out from the place it’s actually meant to be pouring out from.

Maybe he should’ve been a plumber.

“Is that a running shower I hear or are you taking a piss in my toilet?” Levi calls from the kitchen.

Erwin’s face flushes red and he switches off the water. He heaves a deep breath and prepares himself for the most awkward hour of a lifetime. He lists every single thing he knows about Levi in his head and sorts them into two categories: Things he should know, and things he shouldn’t. For example, he should know that Levi has a cat, and he shouldn’t, under any circumstances, mistakenly call him Eli.

“It’s a running shower.” He clarifies as he makes his way to the kitchen.

Levi turns his head and glances at him over his shoulder. There’s a sort of twinkle in his eye, something like reassurance. Like he hadn’t doubted for a second that Erwin could take care of this. “Thank you, oh kind neighbour.” He says. “You fancy a job? This oven’s been fucked up for weeks.”

Erwin makes himself (not-at-all) comfortable perched against the kitchen counter. “My expertise ends at bathroom appliances, I’m afraid.” He says. “I’d end up Sylvia Plath-ing myself if I tried.”

Levi snorts as he flits from one end of the kitchen to another, albeit it being only about three metres of space. “You know they don’t make ovens like that anymore because too many people were killing themselves?” He says.

“That’s… hm.”

“Riveting dinner conversation? I know.” Levi says. “I really excel at making small talk.”

It’s Erwin’s turn to snort, but he feels like he does it a lot less graciously than Levi. “I think people usually start with the weather. Or, like, ‘what do you do for work?’.”

“What do you do for work?” Levi echoes immediately.

Erwin laughs and averts his gaze to the side. “I, uh… It’s boring.”

“Aren’t all jobs?” Levi prompts.

Not yours, Erwin thinks. “It’s, uh, a marketing company. I do client sales.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “What do you do?”

He doesn’t know why he asks, really. Maybe because not asking would be more suspicious than asking. Maybe because he wants to see if Levi will tell the truth.

Levi’s back is turned towards him but there’s a brief moment of silence as he grabs two plates from the cupboard. Then he says, “So, about this weather, huh?”

Erwin catches his bottom lip between his teeth to attempt to stop himself from laughing, not that it works very well. Levi’s aversion is one part funny and one part frustrating. Does Erwin not seem trustworthy enough to confide that information in? Or is Levi biding his time?

“You’re not gonna tell me?” He nudges, as subtle as he can manage. “What, are you a spy?”

“Something like that.” Levi replies coyly. “I hope you’re not allergic to anything because I forgot to fucking ask.”

“I’m not.”

“Good. Sit your ass down.” Levi commands. “You fuck with wine?”

“I… can do.”

“Great. I’ve got a very reasonably priced bottle of red with our name on it.”

Erwin does as he’s told and sits his ass down at the small, circular dining table tucked neatly between Levi’s tiny kitchen and his living room. It’s decorated with yet another succulent and some fancy candle, way nicer than the solitary Yankee that Erwin’s mum bought him. Levi busies himself plating up two heaping piles of gnocchi for the two of them and pouring two even more heaping glasses of wine. Erwin licks his lips and settles in for the long run.

At the end of this night, he can thank Levi for dinner, go back to his flat, and put all this behind him. It’s for the better, after all. There’s no point in entertaining this any further, instilling himself with false hope. He’ll only be disappointed.

“So you hate your job.” Levi says as he places the plate down in front of Erwin.

Erwin tentatively picks up his fork and shrugs as nonchalantly as manageable. “It pays enough. I can’t complain.”

Levi takes no time before digging into the food. His lips seal around the end of the fork and his eyes flutter shut briefly when he takes the first bite. Erwin follows suit. It’s good, which isn’t fair. So, what, Levi’s hot and a good cook?

“What would you rather do?” Levi asks. “If you could.”

“I… really don't know. I’m not very motivated, in general.” Erwin points out. “I’m boring like that.”

“Nothing wrong with being content.” Levi says. “I’m not very motivated either.”

“Which brings us back to the mystery of what you actually do.” He replies, way calmer than he feels.

“I’m a spy.” Levi replies, probably as calmly as he’s feeling. “What does your girlfriend do?”

Erwin’s face flushes and he just about manages to avoid choking on his wine. He places the glass down and wonders if his face is as red as the liquid. “I don’t… uh. Have a girlfriend.”

Levi eyes him, almost warily, and cocks his head to one side. “Boyfriend? I don’t know if you gathered from the everything about me but I’m chill with that.”

The corner of Erwin’s lip twitches and he draws his attention to the food once more. “I’m also, uh, ‘chill’ with that.” He repeats, like the word ‘chill’ leaving his lips doesn’t age him 40 years. “But no.”

“Hm.” Levi says. “So what’s wrong with you, then? Workaholic? Alcoholic?”

The comment is entirely out-of-pocket and, surprisingly, makes him laugh. Levi’s lack of filter is… he doesn’t mind it, to say the least. “Have you ever considered I’m just, uh… not attractive?”

Levi puts down his fork and nurses his glass of wine instead. He leans back in his seat and narrows his eyes like he’s analysing every inch of Erwin’s face. Erwin wants to dive out of the window or perhaps run into oncoming traffic.

“I hadn’t considered that, actually.” Levi replies cooly. “Are you being humble or do you just have incredibly low self-esteem?”

“Let’s say I’m being humble.” Erwin diverts. “What does your partner do?”

“Don’t have one.” Levi shrugs. His glass of wine is raised half to his lips and he crooks one eyebrow expectantly, though Erwin doesn’t know what he’s expecting. All Erwin knows is that when Levi uncrosses and recrosses his legs, his eyes follow the movement a little too closely.

“So the tacky slogan mugs are all your own purchases, then?”

Levi’s lips quirk at the corner and he takes a sip of his drink. “You don’t like them?”

“I didn’t say that. They’re… a choice.”

“My friend's choice. Not mine.” Levi mentions. “It’s a running joke in my family that I swear like a sailor.”

“Not so much around me.”

“I’m making a real effort to be polite.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re very…” Levi trails off, and it’s the first time Erwin’s ever seen him at a loss for words. “It was very nice. What you did for me.”

“I’m just being neighbourly.” Erwin deflects.

“Are you?”

“... Yes.” Erwin swallows. “You don’t have to be, uh… polite. For my sake.”

“I want you to like me.”

Erwin sets his fork down and his eyes glaze over the now-empty plate. “I do.” He dares to say.

“Because I’m being polite.” Levi states, matter-of-factly.

“No. Because…” He leans back in his seat and averts his gaze. “You’re very difficult.”

“Thank you.” Levi smirks. He gathers the plates and Erwin feels like he ought to be doing more, like he ought to help, so he does. He follows Levi to the kitchen and makes himself useful by grabbing a teatowel, which is clearly the wrong one because Levi replaces it in his hands with one he takes from under the sink. “Those are decorative.”

Erwin stifles a snort. “Decorative teatowels?”

“Yes.” Levi sniffs, setting to work on washing the pots meticulously. They work around one-another: Levi washes, Erwin dries, Levi puts stuff away, and Erwin questions what on earth he’s doing, because he promised himself that this was going to be the end of things and now he’s doing Levi’s dishes. “They look nice. I’ve been in your flat and I know you only have one so I don’t want to hear it from you.”

“Why would you need any more than one?”

Levi fixes him with a pointed look and Erwin returns it, like they’re in some sort of stupid staring contest where the loser admits they have too many or too few towels.

“How old are you?” Levi says suddenly.

“Twenty-nine.” Erwin says.

“That’s the sort of age where you should have multiple teatowels.”

“Okay - ouch.” Erwin huffs. “How old are you?”

Levi puts away the last of the plates and tucks the not-decorative teatowel back in its allotted cupboard. “So, this weather, huh?” He says.

Erwin tuts and rolls his eyes. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

“We’ll see.”

“I don’t know anything about you.”

“Don’t you?” Levi asks, and it’s there again, that inquisitive look on his face. Erwin swallows and tries to think of a reply, but Levi beats him to it. “Are you gonna stay and help me finish this wine?”

Erwin steels his nerve. “Are you going to tell me anything about yourself?”

There’s a flash in Levi’s irises, dangerous and excited all at once. Erwin tells himself it’s the reflection of the lights.

“I’m twenty-four.” Levi says.

“I’ll stay.” Erwin replies.

It’s how he ends up on Levi’s sofa, nursing a second glass of ‘reasonably priced’ red. He makes excuses for himself in his head - it’s polite, he’s being neighbourly - but at some point he knows he has to admit that he’s a deeply selfish man and that he’s doing this for his own benefit. He’s doing this to watch Levi sink into the cushions with a soft sigh, and stretch out his long, pale legs in front of him. Erwin’s eyes drink in the sight of him, the parting of his lips as he finds a particularly comfy position.

He wants to tell Levi that he thinks he’s beautiful. That he might possibly be the most stunning man Erwin has ever laid eyes on. That he could do this every night, just sit here, together, with a glass of wine in quiet silence.

Instead, he says, “What’s the cat’s name?”

Levi’s lips curl into a smile and Erwin thinks he’s said the wrong thing. It feels as though Levi knows every single one of his thoughts, and whenever he doesn’t voice them.

“Miso.” Levi replies. “I found her in a bin at my old job.”

“Trash cat. Classic.” Erwin nods, and watches as Miso glares at him from her cat tree. “Is this your job from before you were a spy?”

Levi laughs - or rather, blows air out from his nose - and fixes Erwin with a soft stare. “Mmhm.”

“Oh, that’s it? Not gonna tell me what the job was?”

“Classified information.” Levi replies, his lips resting on the rim of his glass.

“McDonald’s?” Erwin drolls.

Levi’s lips split into a grin and Erwin thinks it’s the first time he’s seen him smile with his teeth. He has a tiny gap between the front two and Erwin’s heart soars when he notices it. “It was Starbucks, actually.” He tuts.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“I used to work at Costa. When I was a kid.”

“You’re an opp.” Levi snorts.

“I… uh-huh.” Erwin nods. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a TikTok thing.”

“I’m too old for that shit.”

“You’re not even thirty.” Levi tuts.

“I’m an old soul.”

Levi laughs again, properly this time. The sound is sharp and high and it bubbles out of him like he didn’t entirely expect to laugh in the first place. “You’re funny.”

“I think you have very low standards for comedy.” Erwin replies, though the compliment makes him swell with a sort of egotistical pride that he’s never quite been proud of being capable of.

“Maybe.” Levi hums. “Maybe I just like you.”

Levi’s general bluntness makes it hard for Erwin to tell whether the comment is sarcastic or whether it’s a come-on. He reminds himself that he is who he is - almost thirty in a dead-end job with very little prospects - and Levi is who he is: early twenties, drop-dead gorgeous and probably the most alluring man to walk the earth.

It’s definitely not a come-on.

But.

Erwin isn’t an expert in body language, not by any means. He was, however, once in very good shape and quite… well-liked. So he knows that knees tilted towards him, arm slung over the back of the sofa, fingers almost touching his shoulder…

No. It’s wishful thinking at its worst, setting him up for bleak disappointment and the risk of making Levi uncomfortable.

“Maybe you just like the fact that I fixed your shower.”

Levi’s fingers twitch and Erwin feels the brief pressure of them against the sleeve of his shirt. “I find competency very attractive.”

“I… Sorry?”

Levi’s glass is deposited on the coffee table and he rests his now-free hand on his thigh, drawing Erwin’s gaze.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take off your tie?”

Levi’s fixed him with an unwavering stare and Erwin can’t drag his eyes away from the melted mercury of his irises. He attempts, in his mind, to think of any kind of logical explanation for Levi’s words.

He comes up empty.

“... Should I?” He asks, stupidly.

“Do you want to?”

Erwin thinks maybe they’re not talking about his tie anymore.

But what if they are?

What if he’s misunderstanding this whole situation?

What if he’s twisting Levi’s words into something else because his brain is hardwired to view this man as inherently sexy no matter what, and what if-

Levi’s fingers brush against his own and he feels the pressure of his wine glass being lifted from his hand. He deposits it onto the coffee table, the feline arch of his back creating one long line down his spine that dips enticingly below the waistband on his shorts. And then, before Erwin can even say anything, Levi plants his legs on either side of his thighs and settles his ass onto Erwin’s lap.

Erwin doesn’t move.

Levi cocks his head to one side and Erwin watches his neatly styled fringe flop over his brow, watches his eyebrows knit together and the sharp curve of his lips turn upwards into a boyish smirk.

His fingers, long and graceful, fasten around the loose knot of Erwin’s tie. He pulls, and the silky material comes undone, hanging around his neck unfastened. Then Levi’s fingers are playing with the top button of his shirt, and Erwin suddenly realises he can move his limbs again.

“Levi.” He breathes. It’s all he can get out, despite the fact that he wants to say so much.

“Yes?”

Levi’s looking at him expectantly, like he wants him to make a move. And Erwin wants to, so badly, more than anything.

But he can’t.

It wouldn’t be honest, would it? To do this, whilst Levi is under the impression that they are basically strangers.

“I, um…”

Levi’s smirk disappears and he replaces it with something hesitant. “Is this not…? Did I read it wrong?”

Erwin shakes his head quicker than anything, because the one thing worse than saying what he’s about to say is having Levi think he’s not the most attractive man to walk the earth. “No. No, I… You’re stunning, really. I just haven’t been… completely honest with you.”

Levi leans back suddenly like he’s been burned. “You’re with somebody.” He states.

“No - god no.” Erwin laughs. “It’s just, um… I sort of, uh… know you.”

Levi’s lips part briefly, and Erwin thinks that this must be the end of it.

But Levi just laughs.

“Oh.” He breathes. “Well, I figured as much.”

Erwin doesn’t know whether to be embarrassed or relieved. He thinks, maybe, he should be grovelling at Levi’s feet. He thinks he should be made to feel ashamed. But Levi’s not doing that. He’s just smiling, his eyes trailing down to the exposed rise and fall of Erwin’s chest.

“You did?”

Levi sighs listlessly. “The first time you saw me, your eyes nearly popped out of your fucking head.” He says, softly. “I’ve been doing this shit for a while. I know what that reaction means by now.”

“And despite that,” Erwin breathes. “You still want to…?”

Levi cocks his head to one side and meets Erwin’s gaze. “Why wouldn’t I? I don’t think you’re the sort of person that would try to weasel your way into my life for the sole purpose of sex.” He states matter-of-factly. “You’ve been actively attempting to avoid me, actually. I think you feel a bit awkward about your very obvious attraction for me. I think you feel like the fact that you’ve seen me naked on a screen means that you don’t have the right to see it in person.”

Erwin breathes an uneasy breath. “It’s less to do with what rights I have and more to do with… I like you. I wanted to be of use to you. But I thought that it would make you uncomfortable, knowing that I knew.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Levi says. “Are you?”

“No.” Erwin replies. “It’s a job. I don’t… I wouldn’t think it much different from any other job.”

Levi’s lips twitch into a soft smirk. “It pays more.”

Erwin laughs. He’s not sure if it ruins the mood, or whatever, but he laughs.

Levi continues.

“You’re a smart man. I know that you don’t think I wear all that skimpy shit for non-work purposes.”

“Except for right now.” Erwin retorts, giving Levi’s waist a soft squeeze around the waistband of his very skimpy shorts.

“Yes, well, I am trying to seduce you.” Levi says plainly. “But I still wanna ask… you’re okay with this?”

“With what?”

“Me.” He murmurs. “Me not being… like that.”

Erwin’s brain turns slowly, probably because Levi has leaned a bit closer and the hard line of his lips is resting about two inches from Erwin’s own, not to mention the fact that his ass, clad in those skimpy shorts, is pressing right against his crotch.

“Not being like… Eli?” He asks quietly, and watches as Levi nods. “Of course I’m okay with it. I’d… prefer it.”

Levi’s mouth quirks and Erwin’s gaze is drawn to them once again, the plump expanse of his bottom lip and the way his pointed tongue darts across it, wetting it with saliva. Levi’s hand raises quickly, and Erwin soon finds it planted against the exposed skin of his chest, just above the few undone buttons that Levi took the liberty of removing. His fingernails scrape against his skin lightly as he buries the tips of his fingers into the curly blond hair that decorates his chest.

“Are you okay with… me?” Erwin asks.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Levi whispers.

Erwin’s eyes follow the path of Levi’s fingers, the way he flexes them against his chest, presses the pads of his fingertips into his skin and the flat of his palm right over his where his heart is surely beating out of his chest. His cock stirs, betraying his hesitance and contrasting his severe lack of confidence. In response, Levi arches his back further, perching his perfect ass right over the curve of his length.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re very out of my league.” He jokes - or attempts to joke - lest his own self-hatred become a turn-off for Levi.

Levi’s brows knit together and his grip on Erwin’s chest becomes stone-like, stable and reassuring. “You need to shut the fuck up with that shit.” He says. “The idea of leagues and punching is fucking bullshit. I like you and I think you’re very attractive. Is that not enough?”

Erwin stills. It’s like Levi has drawn the breath from his lungs and is refusing to give it back. It should be enough, shouldn’t it, that Levi has initiated this whole thing?

“Of course it’s enough.” He breathes.

“Good.” Levi says. “You’re looking at my lips like you want to kiss me.”

Erwin’s face flushed a deep shade of red and his dick twitches in his boxers. Bluntness must be a fetish for him, he thinks. Along with glaring, aloofness, and Levi’s own brand of extreme confidence.

“I do.” He admits.

“Then why don’t you?”

Erwin opens his mouth to give an answer, and realises halfway to his explanation that it’s not what Levi wants. The question is rhetorical. Levi wants action, not words.

He doesn’t know whether to start slow, or quick, or what. He doesn’t know whether Levi likes this gentle or rough. He doesn’t know anything about his preferences, anything about how he likes to be treated. He doubts, however, that a conversation about it would do either of them any favours. He’s always been one to plan, to pre-determine, but the situation doesn’t call for it. The situation doesn’t call for thinking.

So he acts.

He kisses Levi.

Their lips meet and he starts slow, if only to give Levi the opportunity to pull away if he suddenly changes his mind. But he doesn’t. He parts his lips just a tiny amount and moves them, slowly, surely, against Erwin’s own. He’s an amazing kisser - of course he’s an amazing kisser - and he slots their lips together like they’ve done this a million times, like this is natural, the two of them. Like they didn’t just meet a week ago. He tastes like red wine and he’s warm, and Erwin swims in the heat, in the sudden blush that must coat the entirety of his body. Levi tilts his head to one side just so and closes the space between them, his chest pressed flush to Erwin’s, his back arched in such a way that Erwin’s hand, previously resting on his hip, finds itself wrapping around his small body instead, enveloping what he assumes must be only 26 inches of waist in his arm.

He feels Levi’s lips turn up into a smile, feels the way he breathes a deep sigh into the kiss, clearly pleased with the initiative that Erwin has taken. To impress him is heaven. To please him is heaven. To do something that makes him smile, to feel those lips against his. Erwin’s head swims again and he pulls himself back down to reality, to the man in front of him. Levi’s lips part and he makes the most of it, sliding the tip of his tongue between them until they're wide enough to slip it inside, tangling it with Levi’s own. Levi squirms in his lap and Erwin’s hold around his waist tightens in an attempt to keep him in one place, stop him from pressing his ass right against the length of Erwin’s cock.

Levi’s hand moves slowly downwards from his chest and rests on the buttons of his shirt, the ones he hasn’t already undone. The pads of his fingers press against the plastic, and Erwin has half a mind to stop him there, to beg to keep it on, but Levi has made his point already. He finds Erwin attractive - he said it himself - so when he feels the fabric of his shirt fall to the side, exposing his torso, he tries not to care. He focuses, instead, on the pressure of Levi’s palm as it runs from his chest all the way down to his stomach, where it stops. Levi hums into the kiss, his thumb rubbing circles against Erwin’s skin. Erwin feels the need to shudder, or cover himself up, but Levi doesn’t give him the opportunity. Instead, his hand moves lower, so that the tips of his fingers are just sneaking under the fabric of his waistband, of his belt, brushing up against his abdomen.

Levi leans back and breaks the kiss, and Erwin is left, breathless and dizzy. He thinks of every fantasy he’s had of Levi, every time he’s imagined him panting, eyes half-lidded. But Levi isn’t panting. His eyes are sharp and alight with precise concentration, his lips pulled into a smug smile.

“You’re very handsome.” Levi tells him, and his hand travels lower, so that his fingers are wrapped around the metal of Erwin’s belt buckle. Erwin hears it jingle as Levi slides the leather from the buckle, leaving it undone around his waist. “Do you wanna take this to the bedroom?”

Erwin breathes a shaky sigh and attempts to reign in his anxiety. Levi’s eyes are roaming his body, and he reminds himself that it’s appreciation, not judgement, that dances in his irises. Despite the constant reassurance, he can’t help but feel that Levi would be better off with anybody else underneath him. But would anybody else vow to please him as much as Erwin wants to?

He doesn’t know what Levi likes, but despite that, he still shifts his body so that he can loop his arm underneath Levi’s perky ass and lift him from the sofa. Levi opens his mouth as though to complain, and Erwin shuts him up with a brief, chaste kiss that turns his pale cheeks a flushed rouge.

“Come on then, sweetheart.” He whispers against his lips, and he might be imagining it, but he thinks he feels the shiver roll up Levi’s back.

“Sweetheart?” Levi coos, but there’s something in his voice that tells Erwin he doesn’t mind the pet name at all.

Erwin navigates Levi’s flat and takes them to the bedroom, Levi still propped up in his arm. He refuses to be still, of course, instead squirming in Erwin’s grasp so that he can attach his lips to his neck, peppering it with small kisses and nipping at the skin there. Erwin huffs, closing the door behind them and leaning his back against it. He hardly wants to put Levi down, not when he’s secured his legs around his waist and refuses to pull himself away from his neck, occasionally rubbing his cheek against the stubble of Erwin’s jawline. Erwin squeezes his waist, and Levi hums in response, continuing his siege on Erwin’s neck and gently sucking just below his ear. Unhurriedly, Erwin nudges him away, fixing him with a stern sort of look when he nearly pouts.

“No marks.” Erwin says, and Levi cocks an inquisitive brow.

“What does it matter?” Levi smirks. “You are single, yes?”

Erwin has half a mind to roll his eyes, but instead, he carries Levi over to the bed and deposits him onto the sheets. “It’s not like that.” He murmurs, pressing one more kiss against Levi’s plump lips and coaxing him down so that his back is against the mattress. “I have work tomorrow.”

Levi rolls his eyes and stretches out his long, pale legs, securing them once again around Erwin’s hips. Erwin catches Levi’s waist in his hand and appreciates the way it fits so comfortably in his large palm. He could fit the entirety of Levi’s waist between his two hands, he thinks, and the thought stirs something in him, brings back a prior fantasy. Levi below him, overstimulated, dizzy, heated, eyes rolling back underneath his pretty, long lashes.

The fabric of his shirt hangs loose off his shoulders and Levi’s eyes go once again to his chest, to his abdomen and his stomach, to the leather of his belt, hanging undone around his hips. His cheeks are flushed red, his lips pulled into a coy smile, and he licks them slowly as his eyes settle on the bulge in Erwin’s trousers. He’s not shy or hesitant when he reaches out to palm at his cock through his trousers, and even when Erwin audibly gasps, he doesn’t slow his movements.

“When was the last time somebody touched you like this?”

Erwin’s eyes shoot open at the question and he hadn’t even realised he’d shut them. He meets Levi’s gaze and bites the inside of his cheek. “Doesn’t matter.” He mutters. “I don’t wanna think about anyone but you, sweetheart.”

He reaches down, spurred on by the suddenness of Levi’s question. He won’t sit idly by whilst Levi does all the work. Carefully, he wraps his fingers around the tiny expanse of Levi’s wrist and pulls his hand away, lifting it to pin it against the mattress right beside Levi’s head. Levi’s eyes widen, as does his smile, and he breathes an expectant, excited chuckle.

“I like that.” He whispers. “Sweetheart.”

Erwin shifts his hand from Levi’s wrist to his palm, intertwining their fingers and keeping his hand in place.

“Sweetheart,” He begins. “I want to please you however you want. I want you to tell me exactly how you like this.”

Levi’s lips press together and he hides his satisfied smile poorly. His eyes flick from Erwin’s own to the side, attempting to mask his anticipation.

“I like this however you like it.” He replies quietly.

Erwin shakes his head, pressing Levi’s hand further into the mattress with an amount of force that’s enough to spur Levi’s arousal, and not enough to hurt him.

“This isn’t about me.” He says, his voice just edging on stern. If the way Levi squirms is anything to go off of, he likes stern. “Levi, will you tell me? It’d get me off, to know that you’re enjoying yourself.”

Levi makes a little noise, something similar to a silted groan, and his hips buck upwards in an attempt to steal some stimulation. He presses his barely clothed cock against the rough material of Erwin’s trousers and Erwin forces himself not to react. Stern. Stoic. Levi needs a gentle yet unwavering guide, he thinks, to be made to feel comfortable. To feel aroused.

“I like…” He trails off, turning his head to the side and avoiding eye contact. Erwin uses his free hand to take Levi’s jaw between his fingers and coax him back, his thumb pressed against Levi’s bottom lip. He removes his thumb, and Levi tries again. “I like to be… looked at.”

It’s a start, Erwin thinks. He rewards Levi’s honesty with a deep kiss, moving his body closer so that Levi can press their hips together once more, so that he can rut against his cock, needy, desperate.

“I want,” Levi whispers against his lips. “I want you to… I have… toys.”

Erwin’s cock jumps and he swallows heavily. The image of Levi, stuffed full with a piece of plastic, fills his mind. He’s seen it before, yes, but never like this.

“You enjoy that?” He asks, soft and low. “Being fucked with a toy?”

Levi’s face goes red and he hides his embarrassment by rolling his eyes. “If you’re the one holding it.” He retorts.

“If we do this,” Erwin says. “You can’t complain. You can’t beg me for my dick. You asked for a toy and you’ll get a toy.”

Levi purses his lips and huffs. “Begging is below me.” He says.

“We’ll see.”

Levi’s eyes flash and he puffs out his chest defiantly, petulantly. He’s a bit of a brat, and the fact doesn’t surprise Erwin at all. It was what he expected, though admittedly, he knows that Levi’s playing it up a bit. Falling into the role of the bratty sub for his own pleasure. He wants to be tamed, Erwin thinks. He likes to be put in his place, to be told off, scolded, even if he does prefer a gentler sort of domination. He doesn’t want this rough. He wants Erwin to tease him, to overstimulate him, and to be cool-headed and calm about it.

Carefully, he winds one arm around Levi’s back and pulls him up from the mattress so that he’s sat up, perched with his feet tucked behind his ass. He presses one soft kiss to Levi’s cheek before lifting off his jumper, revealing his pale skin and toned, hard muscle. It’s difficult, he thinks, to be cool-headed and calm when Levi looks like this, naked except for those tiny, linen shorts, a pretty flush painting his hard chest pink. Erwin pulls him closer by the small of his back and crashes their lips together, kisses him deeply, quick and messy, his hand resting against Levi’s chest. He tweaks one of Levi’s nipples between two fingers and relishes in Levi’s delight, the soft squeak that leaves his lips, the way he grinds down against the bedsheets to bring some stimulation to his twitching cock. Erwin rolls the nub of Levi’s nipple beneath his thumb and Levi groans, his hand shooting out to grip at Erwin’s shoulders, his pretty pink nails pushing the fabric of his shirt to the side to sink into his skin. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t shy away from the contact. Instead, he gathers Levi’s wrist in his hand one more and moves it slowly behind his back where Levi obediently keeps it. It’s only when he hears the sound of Erwin’s tie sliding from around his neck does Levi break the kiss, watching the way Erwin winds the black silk around his hands with parted lips. Erwin shifts their bodies and moves Levi easily. He’s pliant, and something about his anticipation gives Erwin the opportunity to take his other wrist and move it behind his back, too. And then Levi must finally get it, because his lips break into a brilliant smile and he turns his head over one shoulder to fix Erwin with a half-lidded smirk.

“Oh, you’re fucking kinky, aren’t you?” He murmurs.

Erwin returns his stare with a pointed look, one of his brows arched. He doesn’t need to look down at his hands to fashion the silk of the tie into a neat knot with two holes for Levi’s slim wrists. “If you were complaining, you would’ve moved your hands already.” He says back, one of his knuckles nudging Levi’s wrists, which he’s kept crossed behind his back exactly where Erwin placed them. “You said you wanted to be looked at. This is how I want to look at you.”

Levi doesn’t have much to say in regards to that. Instead, he lifts his wrists slightly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he gives Erwin easier access.

“Good boy.”

Levi’s eyes flutter shut and he breathes a soft groan, his eyebrows knitted together. His expression betrays his thoughts: the praise turns him on, and he’s embarrassed about that.

Erwin slips the material of the tie over Levi’s wrists and pulls, locking his hands into place immediately. He checks the tightness, checks that Levi’s circulation isn’t being cut off, before tying a quick, tight loop around Levi’s wrists. Levi squirms, his back arching, and Erwin watches, amused, as the way his ass shifts on top of the soles of his feet.

One look over Levi’s shoulder gives Erwin a full view of his front, too. Either Levi hasn’t noticed, or he hasn’t deigned to comment on it, but he’s positioned Levi perfectly in front of the full length mirror that sits across from his bed. He wonders how many times Levi has watched himself in that mirror. He wonders how many times someone else was in the room with him.

Softly, he presses a kiss to the pale slope of Levi’s jawline and smiles against the sharp bone.

“Are you going to be good and tell me where you keep everything?” He asks.

Levi’s lips quirk and he opens his eyes. Mercury swims in his irises. “What if I don’t?”

Erwin trails kisses down Levi’s jaw to his neck, and then along to pale expanse of his built shoulders. “We can just sit here and do nothing.” He warns.

Levi tilts his head and pretends he’s considering his options. His eyes drift to his own reflection in the mirror and he fixes himself with an aroused stare. Erwin watches as he moves his arms slightly to the side so that his hands are no longer hidden behind his back and admires the pretty black bow that Erwin has crafted around his wrists. He seems pleased at the handiwork.

“Is the mirror so I can see how pretty I look?” Levi says. His voice is tainted with sarcasm, as though he’s done this routine before.

Erwin tuts and presses another kiss to Levi’s shoulder. “No.” He says. “It’s so I can see all of you. Don’t be narcissistic.”

Levi’s eyes widen and he smiles, his cheeks flushing red. “I wasn’t being.” He defends.

Erwin believes that, he truly does. Regardless, he still takes Levi’s jaw in his hand again to tilt Levi’s head to the side, pulling his gaze away from the mirror. He kisses him once, quick and chaste. “The toys, Levi.” He reminds him.

Levi’s lips twist into an embarrassed pout and he nods his head towards the chest of drawers beside the bed. “Top drawer.” He huffs.

“Thank you.” He says, and leaves Levi to squirm on the sheets.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting, to be honest. He’s not a prude, never has been, but Levi’s collection of various sex toys is… impressive. He must have at least ten dildos. Handcuffs, gags, leather straps that Erwin only knows works as a harness because he’s seen Levi wearing it before, in one of his videos. His cock jumps in his boxers and he thinks, slowly, about what Levi would want. And then he reminds himself that Levi wants to be viewed, wants Erwin to look at him in whatever scenario he likes.

So he chooses what would turn him on the most without giving it any more thought.

Levi’s watching him with a careful expression and Erwin lets his hormones get the better of him.

“What’s the point in staring?” He asks. “You’ll have it inside you soon enough. Get on your knees.”

Levi blows out a thin stream of air and Erwin watches as he tugs at the soft material of the tie. He doesn’t move. Rather, he doesn’t get on his knees. Instead, he tilts his head to one side and fixes Erwin with a wide-eyed, watery sort of stare that rips a hole in Erwin’s heart immediately. He’s doing puppy-dog eyes, for God’s sake, and the worst part is that it works.

Erwin deposits his chosen toys on the bed behind Levi so that he can’t sneak a peek and positions himself in front of him, lifting his chin up with one finger. Like this, Levi’s lips are in line with his cock, and the thought does occur to him before he pushes it aside. Not right now. Not yet.

“Was that too harsh, sweetheart?”

Levi nods wordlessly with his wide eyes still trained on Erwin, and Erwin exhales a soft sigh. He’s wrapped around this boy’s little finger, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Even bound, Levi can control his every thought with something as small as his expression.

“I’m sorry, baby. Let me make it up to you.” He tells him. Levi drops the act as soon as Erwin kisses him. He feels the smirk against his lips, but doesn’t comment on it. It makes Levi feel good, doesn’t it, to know that Erwin would do anything for him?

“Will you get on your knees for me, sweetheart?” He rephrases, and Levi finally does as he’s told, hitching himself upwards so that his knees are planted firmly into the mattress, his ankles crossed neatly over one another.

Erwin takes his place behind Levi and places his hands on Levi’s hips. What a fucking view, to be able to stare at his plump ass and look at his pretty cock all at once. What a fucking view to be able to watch Levi’s brows knit together and his face flush red as Erwin hooks his thumbs into the waistband of Levi’s shorts, pulls them down slowly enough so that when Levi’s cock springs free, it smacks against the hard muscle of his abdomen. Erwin swallows his moan, and instead devotes his lips to Levi’s neck as he strips him off the shorts, his eyes raised enough to keep them on Levi’s reflection the entire time. Levi tilts his head to one side, exposes his neck further, and smirks when his shorts hit the floor as Erwin tosses them aside.

“I thought you’d keep them on.” He whispers. “You wouldn’t stop staring at them earlier.”

Erwin shuts him up quick by bringing the palm of his hand against Levi’s ass, hard. He nearly jumps out of his skin, his smirk replaced by a surprised little gasp, quickly followed by a breathless groan.

“Does it turn you on, to tease people for being attracted to you?” Erwin asks. “I thought I told you to stop being narcissistic.”

Levi opens his mouth to protest and Erwin cuts him off, replacing whatever his argument was going to be with two of his thick fingers. Levi doesn’t even need to be told to suck. His lips close around Erwin’s fingers immediately, and his tongue coats them with wet saliva. Erwin pushes, slides his fingers in and out of Levi’s mouth and watches, enthralled, as Levi’s gaze grows heavy and his cock twitches against his stomach. He’s pushing his ass back against the palm of Erwin’s hand, and he gets the message, smacking his ass once more and watching as it jiggles against his palm.

“Fuck, you’re pretty.” He breathes, and he doesn’t even mean to say it out loud, but he can’t stop himself. Not when Levi is worshipping his fingers with his tongue and presenting himself on a silver goddamn platter.

He removes his fingers from Levi’s mouth and grabs at one of his cheeks, pulling his ass apart and exposing his pretty pink hole. He’s perfect, of course he is, waxed and pre-prepared which Erwin pretends doesn’t surprise him, but really, he never expected to end up here. Carefully, he circles the rim of Levi’s hole with his index finger and watches it twitch expectantly. When he dips his finger inside to the first knuckle, Levi barely winces. His expression slips into something soft, something serene, and he watches Erwin’s face in the mirror with parted lips.

“You don’t have to be so gentle with me.” He whispers, and Erwin shakes his head.

“I’m not being gentle. I’m teaching you patience.”

Levi bites his bottom lip, but his smile reaches his eyes anyways. “I can be patient.” He lies.

“Stop trying to press yourself onto me, then.”

Levi huffs and stills his hips. Erwin rewards his obedience by dipping his finger further inside Levi. He’s warm, soft, pliant. Not tight, but Erwin can’t bring himself to care. This isn’t about loosening Levi up. Quickly, he presses his middle finger inside Levi’s hole and twists his wrist until Levi’s eyes widen the tiniest amount. Then he curls his fingers, and listens to the long, drawn out sigh that leaves Levi’s lips. He watches Levi’s eyes flutter shut as he begins to rub slow, intentional circles against Levi’s prostate, curling his fingers more with each movement. Levi’s cockiness falters and he arches his back, bucking his hips against nothing, his cock twitching in the cool air. A stuttered moan forces its way from his mouth and he sighs, tilting his head back so that his Adam’s apple bobs with each thrust inside his hole. Erwin watches his own fingers disappear inside him, watches them, slick with saliva, pump against the inside of Levi’s walls.

“That’s cruel, Erwin.” Levi husks, seemingly regaining enough of his wits to plead with Erwin’s ego. “I’ll come before you even fuck me.”

Erwin arches one brow and pulls Levi closer, so that his fingers sink down to the base. Levi exhales, his eyes flicking open. “Stop complaining. You’ll come more than once, don’t worry.”

Before Levi can reply, Erwin takes his twitching cock into his hand and squeezes. Levi reacts beautifully, immediately making use of the pressure of Erwin’s hand, thrusting into it with a needy sort of desperation that turns Erwin pliant in a matter of seconds. He takes a moment, just quickly, to pull out of Levi and coat both his hand and fingers with lube, before pressing back inside of Levi’s warm hole and gripping him at his base. Slowly, he builds up momentum. Slowly, he takes Levi apart. Levi’s chest rises and falls and Erwin watches him tug at the material binding his wrists, not to try and free himself, but as a reminder that he’s bound, that Erwin has him exactly where he wants him. He twists his wrist as he curls his fingers and Levi’s lips part, his eyes rolling back slightly at the pressure against his prostate. Erwin stokes him in time, squeezing the head of his cock each time he circles that previous bundle of nerves and Levi shudders, squirms, makes attempts to quieten his moans and fails.

“Fuck.” He groans through clenched teeth. His face has gone red and his fringe is falling into his eyes, framing his pretty cheekbones with wisps of black. He looks like a painting, like each strand of hair is a beautiful brushstroke of oil or acrylic, like the rouge of his cheeks has been chosen by an artist in watercolour, splotchy and shiny and blooming from beneath his skin. Erwin speeds his pace, becomes relentless in his thrusts, moves his fingers across the slick walls of Levi’s ass and strokes from Levi’s base to his head in one long pump. Levi throws his head back and Erwin watches the expression on his face morph from reluctant pleasure into unphased serenity. His lips hang open and he pants, breathless and unbothered, his need for release stronger than his desire to play the role of the coy brat.

“Good boy.” Erwin echoes his praise from earlier, and Levi coos his appreciation for the honorific, his eyes flicking open and finding Erwin’s in the mirror. To his credit, he doesn’t look at himself once. Instead, his gaze scans Erwin’s expression, his neck, the expanse of his arm and the way it moves up and down the quicker he pumps over Levi’s length.

Levi’s head tilts forward and his hair falls across his brow, and Erwin watches the tightening of his core, the tensing of the sharp muscles of his abdomen. He doesn’t change his pace, doesn’t quicken or slow. He keeps everything exactly how it is and watches Levi come apart on his fingers. His thighs have begun to tremble and his cock is red at the tip, twitching, jumping every single time Erwin squeezes him at the base. He watches as Levi bites down hard on his bottom lip and meets his gaze with something between a glare and a plea.

“Nng… fuck. Fuck I’m…” He pants, and Erwin’s lips curl into a smirk. “Erwin, don’t… please… I’ll come…”

So much for begging.

Levi’s whole body shudders and his back arches spectacularly, so much so that Erwin’s fingers press further inside him than before. He curls them once more and fixes his gaze on Levi’s face, on his cock, on the way his lips part and he moans loudly, pornographically, as he paints his abdomen white with his own come. Erwin doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow. He massages the pads of his fingers against Levi’s prostate throughout his entire climax, and each time he thinks it’s slowing, he presses down harder against the bundle of nerves and watches as Levi’s body convulses once more, watches as his hole flexes around his digits. It’s when Levi is at the crest of his third wave that Erwin scissors his fingers wide, pulling Levi’s hole apart and leaving enough empty space for him to take the smallest of the toys that he picked out and thrust it as deep as he can manage inside of Levi’s ass.

Levi yelps, his legs giving way beneath him, but Erwin wraps one arm around his waist and guides him safely so that his back is pressed against his chest. Levi’s eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open and his brows pulled up in surprise as his eyes settle onto the small pale pink bullet that’s now plugging his hole. He swallows, body still trembling, come still dribbling down the side of his cock. He’s not even finished, Erwin thinks, as his fingers ghost against the small switch at the bottom of the bullet. He’s not even coming down yet.

He flips the switch nonetheless.

Levi groans and his eyes roll back.

Erwin’s heart beats out of his chest watching the sight.

Levi’s legs tremble and he whimpers a choked moan, the bullet beginning to emit a steady buzz inside him. Erwin keeps his arm secured around Levi’s waist, keeps him in place as his body unwittingly slumps back against him. His thighs twitch and he swallows, eyes wide, as Erwin takes the bottom of the bullet and angles it to press against his already bruised prostate. Levi squeaks something that sounds halfway between a curse and Erwin’s name and his legs kick, unruly and desperate.

“N- I can’t. I can’t.” He pants. “Erwin - I…”

His voice is high in his throat and Erwin thinks it’s the prettiest sound in the world. He grabs Levi’s cock at the base and begins to tug on it once more, watches as it leaks come against Levi’s stomach, watches the sticky stream of it barely detach from the small metal piercing on his slit to the short black hair beneath his navel. He swirls the bullet once, twice, against Levi’s prostate and watches as another thick drop of come forms at the head of his cock and spurts onto his abdomen. Levi whines at the sight, his face bright red, embarrassed and turned on. Erwin slides his hand up and down Levi’s length in a tight grip and milks every last drop from his twitching cock until finally, when Levi’s moans have devolved into a string of incoherent mumbling, he releases it from his grasp and switches the bullet off.

Levi takes a while to open his eyes. Erwin passes the time by sliding the small piece of silicone in and out of his hole, watching the lube leak out and dribble down his cheeks. When he finally comes to, Levi’s eyes are glassy.

“Nng.” He manages, and Erwin presses a kiss to the crown of his black hair, soft and gentle. He keeps the bullet inside of him, but slows its movements to a halt. “Fuck.”

“You did so good, sweetheart.” Erwin tells him, and means it. He’s never been able to pull an orgasm that long or intense out of anybody before. “You did so good. Look at how pretty you look.”

Levi doesn’t spare a glance at himself. Instead, he presses his lips to Erwin’s, short and breathless. “I want to take care of you.” He says.

It’s a sweet sentiment, and admittedly, an extremely arousing one. Regardless, Erwin shakes his head. “I said I’d make you come more than once.” He reminds Levi.

Levi pulls a pained expression and tries the puppy-dog eyes again, but Erwin manages to resist. “I can’t do that again.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Erwin smiles. “I’ll take things a bit slower for you next time.”

Levi’s brows knit together and he presses his forehead against the thick expanse of Erwin’s chest not unlike a cat would. Erwin reaches out to brush his hair from his eyes, petting the crown of his head and stroking his hair back with each movement. Eventually, after a short moment, Levi nods.

“Good boy.” He whispers, and watches Levi’s slowly softening cock stir slightly. His stamina is something to be commended. “Do you think you can get back on your knees for me? I’ll take care of everything else.”

Levi rises to his knees, unsteady, and Erwin helps him up the rest of the way. His arms are still bound behind his back, and Erwin notices the red marks that are beginning to form on his skin around the black silk. Carefully, he rubs his thumb against the red skin and watches as Levi winces, almost microscopic, barely noticeable if he wasn’t looking for it. His heart jolts, and he attempts to keep his voice level despite the sudden worry that Levi is hurt because of him.

“Is this too tight?” Erwin asks. His hand is resting on the outer plane of Levi’s thigh and he rubs a small circle into the skin there, soothing, slow.

Levi shakes his head.

Erwin breathes softly and presses a kiss to Levi’s cheek. The contact makes him flush an even deeper red than he’s been all night. “Levi. If it’s too tight, I want you to tell me. I don’t mind rough, but I’m not going to let you get hurt.”

Levi’s lips part and he speaks, finally, for what feels like the first time in forever. His voice, now that he’s been through his come-down, is back to its normal deep tone, if not a little shaky. “It’s a bit… it hurts a bit.” He says.

Erwin removes the tie in a matter of seconds and watches as Levi brings his arms in front of him, admiring - for lack of a better word - the redness of his wrists. He glances back over his shoulder with a quiet smile and watches with careful fascination as Erwin undies the knot in the tie. “You’re soft on me.” He says.

Erwin glances up to meet Levi’s gaze and falters. His eyes are soft, gentle. His lips, wet with saliva, are pulled into a sweet smile. Erwin forgets himself. Erwin forgets stern, forgets stoic. Without thinking, he wraps his arms around the tiny expanse of Levi’s waist and presses his forehead against the back of Levi’s shoulder. He breathes in the scent of mint and swallows heavily. His mind wanders elsewhere momentarily. To watching Levi in the kitchen, to seeing Levi laying comfortably on his sofa. To the noise of a running shower and the smell of mint and the warmth of steam.

“Of course I am.” He whispers.

He can’t see what expression Levi is pulling. For the first time since meeting him, his eyes are not on him. Levi hums above him, and Erwin feels a kiss planted against the top of his head.

“Do you want to slow down?” Levi asks.

Erwin moves his head so that his lips are pressed against Levi’s shoulder instead. He peppers his pale skin with small kisses and reminds himself that he’s incredibly lucky to be here. That he should count his goddamn blessings that Levi would even let him into his bed.

“Erwin.”

Erwin comes back to reality. Comes back to Levi’s worried expression and the slope of his shoulder and the feeling of his waist in his arms. To hold him, without all this. To look at him and not think of sex. To have him, without having him.

“Do you need to stop?”

Despite everything, Erwin nods.

Levi kicks himself into gear, albeit not very gracefully. Without needing any help, he slides the toy from inside himself and moves it to the side, along with the others.

Erwin covers his face with his hands and feels the burning red of his cheeks. He shouldn’t have done that. He should’ve just… got over it. Levi let him into his flat, into his bedroom. Levi let this happen. And, what? Erwin can’t do it, because he wants… because he’s selfish. Because he, for a second, when he saw Levi’s smile, thought about being more to him than a fuck. He doesn’t deserve more than that, does he?

He hears the sound of Levi dressing and thinks he ought to leave. Before he can, there’s the pressure of dainty fingers on his wrist and a dip in the mattress beside him. Levi, with more force than he thought he was capable of, pulls his hands from his face. He opens his mouth to speak but Erwin beats him to it.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

Levi’s mouth is open like he was about to say something, but he closes it again. He regards Erwin’s expression carefully, his fingers still wrapped around his wrist.

“What’s there to be sorry for?” He eventually asks.

Erwin scans Levi’s expression and tries to find irritation, but all he sees is a gentle sort of reassurance.

“I… you were having fun. And I ruined it.” He whispers.

Levi’s lips curl into an incredulous smile and he chuckles softly. “You didn’t ruin anything. You just wanted to stop. It’s okay.”

Erwin shakes his head. “No. I should’ve…”

“Should’ve what?” Levi interrupts. “Kept going, even if you didn’t want to? I wouldn’t have wanted you to do that.”

Erwin purses his lips, and Levi continues.

“I had a lot of fun. It’s okay that it stopped there.”

Erwin’s fingertips twitch and Levi slides his hand up to intertwine their fingers, their hands resting on Erwin’s lap. He closes his fingers around Levi’s and feels the warmth of them against his skin. Levi’s pulled a pair of loose fitting joggers on and his still bare chest rises and falls with each of his slow breaths. Erwin follows the movement with his eyes and tries to think of something to say.

“What was it?” Levi asks him. “Is it something I did?”

Erwin shakes his head immediately. “No. No. You were amazing.” He promises. “I just… I got…”

Levi waits for him to find his words, and when he doesn’t, he tucks his legs in and sits cross-legged right in front of Erwin. “You got…?” He prompts, slow and gentle, not assuming anything.

Erwin breathes slow. “Just got in my own head.” He finishes, though it’s hardly the full story. He can’t tell Levi that. “I was… I didn’t like that I’d hurt you.”

Levi hums softly and lets go of Erwin’s hand only to show him his wrists. The red marks are slowly fading. They don’t look as though they’ll bruise. “It didn’t hurt that much.” He smiles. “You can kiss them better if you want.”

Erwin stifles a laugh despite himself. Carefully, he presses his lips to each of Levi’s wrists, and watches as Levi’s expression softens even more. Slowly, Levi wraps his arms around Erwin’s shoulders, a half-embrace.

“It’s a lot of pressure, to play that sort of role. You did really well.” Levi straightens his collar and the open lines of his shirt, and then speaks again. His face is bright red. “I’ve never…” He says, his voice pitching higher. “I’ve never came like that before.”

Erwin swallows slowly. “Really?”

Levi pulls a face, like the whole thing is embarrassing to admit. “Yes, really.” He tuts, his usual sarcastic snippiness making itself known. Then he fixes Erwin with a sort of innocent stare and tilts his head to one side. “You’re… I like you. If you’d ever want to… do this again. Sometime.”

Erwin feels his body turn cold. Levi’s arms are still wrapped around his shoulders, gentle, kind. The offer is on the table to keep seeing Levi, and yet he knows he can’t take it. To keep this up, to keep quiet about the fact that he wants more, and to still please Levi despite that fact… he’d only end up disappointing him.

“Levi,” Erwin starts. “I… I think you’re amazing, I do. But I…” Levi’s face turns dejected and Erwin’s self-hatred churns in his gut. “I can’t.”

There’s a short moment of silence before Levi speaks. “You can’t, or you don’t want to?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Erwin’s lips purse and he goes quiet. Levi is giving him the opportunity to explain himself rather than kicking him out right away, and he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve that chance, but he thinks he ought to take it. If he’s going to turn Levi down - perfect, beautiful Levi, who could have anybody - then he ought to at least tell him why. Even if it’s the most morbidly embarrassing thing he’s ever had to do.

“I’m… at a point in my life,” He begins, uncertainly, slowly. “Where I’m looking for… something stable.”

Levi furrows his brow. “I’m not stable?” He asks.

Erwin huffs a frustrated sigh. “That’s not - I’m not explaining it well. I just mean that I’m… I want a partner.” He tries. “And you… god, Levi, you’re perfect. You’re everything. I really, really fell for you as soon as I saw you. But I understand that we’re not… well-matched. You’re not looking for anything serious, and I am.”

Levi doesn’t reply right away. He leaves Erwin to stew in his own words, and stew he does. The room feels hot. His shirt, despite the fact that it still hangs loose and unbuttoned around his chest, feels hot. His whole body feels like it’s burning as Levi finds his words.

Then he clicks his tongue.

“What makes you think I’m not looking for anything serious?” He asks. “Because of my job?”

“No.” Erwin says immediately. “Nothing like that. You’re just… young. Pretty. You could… play the field all you wanted.”

Levi snorts suddenly, and his lips pull into a smile. “I’m twenty-four.” He reminds Erwin. “And I’m not interested in playing the field. If you thought you might’ve liked me then why didn’t you ask me out?”

Erwin stalls. “Because you would’ve said no.”

“Why don’t you try it?”

He doesn’t know whether or not this is some weird trick, or what. Levi is entirely unpredictable and it scares him as much as it excites him. Still, he’s looking at Erwin with those expectant eyes, and he hasn’t quite figured out how to say no to him yet.

“Can I… take you out for a drink sometime?”

“Yes.” Levi says immediately. There’s a sort of uncertain tension in the air that’s only broken when Levi grabs his hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “Idiot. Do you want a shower? This really hot plumber came and fixed it for me.”

Erwin doesn’t get to reply, doesn’t get to ask what on earth just happened, because Levi has already got up from the bed and walked to the bathroom. From outside the door, he hears the sound of running water. The sound of Levi’s bare feet padding on tile. He follows.

“Are you being serious?” Erwin asks, standing in the doorway to the bathroom.

Levi glances over his shoulder from where he’s stood by the windowsill lighting multiple candles. “About what?”

“I meant it like a date.”

Levi flicks off the lighter and places the now lit candle on the windowsill. The shower is heating up and the room is getting steamy. “Yes, I figured as much.” He smiles. “And yes. I was being serious.”

Erwin stands in stunned silence and Levi crooks one eyebrow. He must think Erwin stupid, or maybe a bit tapped in the head. Despite that, he still takes Erwin’s arm and pulls him inside the bathroom, closing the door behind the two of them. His hands go to Erwin’s shirt and he lifts it from his shoulders, folding it neatly even if his eyes are glued to his body. Erwin suddenly shifts and tries to turn away.

“Why do you do that?” Levi asks. “Hide like that?”

Erwin sighs. “Because you’re… you. And I’m me.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “Boo. What did I tell you about leagues? I think you’re hot.”

“I don’t know how you think that.” Erwin mutters.

Levi shrugs. “Everybody has preferences. Why do you find me attractive?”

He’s undoing the ties of his joggers and slipping them off over his long, pale legs, and Erwin doesn’t even know how to answer that question. He just watches as Levi steps into the shower, glancing back over his shoulder to regard Erwin.

“Are you joining me?” He asks. “Or are we re-enacting a shower video? You can stand there and jerk off whilst I lather myself up, if you want.”

Erwin kicks himself into gear and strips. It is, admittedly, not the way he’d imagined Levi seeing him naked for the first time. But strangely - and he does wonder if it was Levi’s intention - it takes the pressure off. He steps into the shower beside Levi and averts his gaze as Levi’s eyes trail from his shoulders down to his feet. At least, he thinks, he’s got nothing to be embarrassed about in terms of…

“Fuck me you’re huge.” Levi whistles. “You should be in my line of work.”

Despite his burning cheeks and the initial wave of embarrassment, Erwin laughs. Levi always manages that, doesn’t he? He can’t remember laughing like this for a long time.

Levi laughs too, wrapping his fingers around Erwin’s bicep and pulling him into the warm stream of water. It feels good, relaxes his taut muscles.

“I don’t think I’d do well as a pornstar.” Erwin murmurs.

Levi smirks and presses himself closer, so that his chin is resting against Erwin’s chest. He presses a kiss to the centre where his chest hair is thickest and looks up at Erwin from under his lashes. “It’s not that hard, trust me.” He jokes. “Can I ask you something?”

Erwin wraps one arm around Levi’s waist, around his slim hips and his back. This is good. This is nice. This is a lot less anxiety inducing than playing at being dominant. “Yeah.”

“The toys you chose. The bullet in particular.” Levi says.

“Mm.”

“Was it because of the last video?”

Erwin’s face flushes and he clicks his tongue. “No.” He admits. “I actually haven’t… watched you. Since we met.”

Levi’s brow arches and he smirks. “Seriously?” He says. “Why?”

Erwin tries to fight through the embarrassment and decides that he can’t. It’s just going to be like this forever, he thinks, or for as long as Levi keeps him around. Constant giddy embarrassment. He doesn’t mind it all that much, actually. It makes his face warm, makes his heart race. It’s not unlike how he felt whenever he’d watch Levi on a screen.

“It would’ve felt… like I was invading your privacy.”

Levi snorts and buries his face into Erwin’s chest, and Erwin tries not to get turned on when he nuzzles his nose into his chest hair. “You’re a fucking sap.” He teases. “I made it for you and everything.”

Erwin’s cock twitches and he swallows. “You what?”

Levi dislodges his face from Erwin’s chest and turns away suddenly, facing the showerhead to hide his face. “Never mind.”

“No, no, no.” Erwin says with a grin. He follows Levi, his hand coming to rest on his hip and his chest pressed against the back of his head. “Say that again.”

Levi plays at nonchalance and flicks water at Erwin, glancing over his shoulder with bright red cheeks. “Fuck off.” He huffs. “Fine. I said I made it for you. I thought you’d really like that one.”

Erwin’s grin only goes wider and he buries his face into the crown of Levi’s head. “Describe it.”

“No. That’s so fucking embarrassing.” Levi tuts. “Just watch it, god.”

“Mm. Maybe. What’s the plot synopsis?” He teases.

Levi’s flustered frown turns into fake frustration and he rolls his eyes. “The other day you wouldn’t stop staring at my ass in those jeans.”

“Mm. You’re wearing those jeans?” Erwin murmurs. Stupidly, his eyes are closed. Stupidly, he’s imagining it.

“Not those jeans. A cheaper pair. One I didn’t mind… ripping.”

Erwin’s cock jumps against Levi’s back and he groans into the top of Levi’s hair. “Fuck.” He whispers. “Fuck, Levi.”

“You're hard.” Levi drolls.

“Shit, sorry.”

Levi turns to face him and pushes them both out of the shower's stream. Through the hazy steam in the air, Erwin can see Levi’s eyes flash. His cock is stiff, pressed between the two of them, its length spanning from Levi’s navel to his chest. And yeah, fuck, he’s never been one to brag, but it’s a turn on that his cock is big enough that if he were to fuck Levi…

Levi’s hand moves and Erwin stifles a groan as he feels it wrap around his base, squeezing just above his balls and making them left slightly. Levi watches the movement like he’s fascinated, like he can’t drag his eyes away.

“If we set a solid date for drinks,” Levi says. “Will you let me suck you off?”

Erwin nods before he even registers the question.

“Saturday work for you?”

“Yeah.” He breathes.

“Great.”

Levi drops to his knees in a matter of seconds and before he can even begin to hold his breath, Levi’s lips are sliding along the length of his cock. He takes as much as he can in one huge thrust, no pretense, no licking or kissing or sucking. Erwin grunts a surprised groan and Levi smirks, his lips sealed tightly around the width, his hair wet and pushed back from his forehead giving Erwin a clear view of his face. His hand shoots out to grip at Levi’s fringe, and Levi hums appreciatively, bobbing his head twice over the tip before letting it drop from his mouth. He replaces the pressure with his hand, moving at a steady, quick pace, and instead devotes his mouth to Erwin’s balls, running his tongue flat against the heavy sack. Erwin’s head falls back and hits the tile with a thud, his eyes rolling upwards and staring at the hazy ceiling. Levi doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop for a single second, not even to breathe, as he chases his hand with his lips, kissing up the entirety of Erwin’s shaft.

He smirks, and Erwin’s eyes flick down to the scene once more, only to find Levi flicking his tongue against his slit and collecting the drops of precome dutifully. He catches Erwin’s gaze on him and presses one more kiss to the side of his shaft, the heaviness of it presses against his cheek. Erwin feels his legs go weak when he realises that the entirety of his length spans Levi’s face, starting at his sharp jawline and ending with his tip tangled in Levi’s wet hair.

“And I’m narcissistic.” Levi whispers when he follows Erwin’s gaze. “Do you like being told how big it is?”

Erwin swallows. Does it make him an asshole to say yes?

“If it’s you.” He tries.

Levi grins and rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t stop him from pressing his lips to his tip again and running the flat of his tongue against it. “I don’t think I can take all of you.” He husks, rubbing his cheek against the tip and smearing precome onto it. “You won’t be mad if I can’t, right?”

He’s doing it again, appealing to Erwin’s soft spot and flashing those pretty, wide eyes. He can’t bring himself to care, especially because Levi must have realised at some point that it’s a turn on for him, for Levi to pretend innocence. “Of course not.” He whispers, pushing Levi’s hair back again. “Of course not, sweetheart.”

Levi tries, nonetheless. He fixes his lips onto the end of Erwin’s cock and refuses to drop his gaze as he slides down the first few inches. Erwin takes in the stretch of his plump lips, the slight strain in his eyes when feels the tip of it press against the back of Levi’s throat. But he doesn’t stop. He presses further, relaxes his jaw. Erwin groans, and soon finds out that Levi either doesn’t have a gag reflex, or has trained it out of himself. He feels Levi’s nose pressed against his abdomen and his grip in Levi’s hair tighten, the suffering wave of arousal shooting through his whole body. Levi bobs his head again, hollows his cheek and sucks, long and slow, coating the entirety of his length in saliva. His pace quickens and Erwin lets the shower wall take most of his weight, his legs trembling, as Levi flattens his tongue against the underside of his cock each time he moves. His eyes flick upwards again and he takes the base of Erwin’s dick in his dainty hand, angling it just so, so that the next time he bobs his head it presses against the inside of his cheek and forces it to bulge. Drool slips from the corner of his mouth and he looks drunk on it, like the last thing he would want to do if the whole world was ending would be right here, on his knees.

Erwin’s moan is muffled by the shower water and he’s grateful, because fuck, he’s being too loud. He’s being too loud and his arousal is far too evident and his cock is twitching, aching to release. Levi’s hand cups his balls, rolling, squeezing, and Erwin can’t take it, can’t take the look on his face, his half-lidded eyes, the way his cheek bulges as he lets Erwin push into it again. He grips the back of Levi’s head and thrusts, watching his pupils blow wide, watching his brows knit together. He fucks into Levi’s mouth, heavy and messy and uncoordinated, watches as saliva pools over Levi’s chin, watches the way his free hand lifts to dig his nails into the thickness of his thigh. His orgasm builds quickly, fizzing in his abdomen, and he grips the base of his cock to slide it from Levi’s mouth.

It takes two pumps of his length before he’s coming, his hand still gripping Levi’s hair, still keeping him in place. Levi’s eyes flick shut and he opens his mouth, his tongue lolling on his bottom lip, and Erwin taps the tip of his cock against it, paints it white with his come, only pulling back when he’s sure he’ll choke Levi with it. He finishes on his face, watching with awe as his semen spurts over Levi’s cheeks, his lips, his chin. He tugs, and the last stop lands on Levi’s pale chest, right between his pecs.

He breathes a shaky breath and his head hits the wall.

Levi swallows what Erwin left in his mouth and opens his eyes, his nails still dug into Erwin’s thigh. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smirks.

“Fuck, you like to make a mess of me, don’t you?” He husks, his voice sore in his throat.

Erwin pants and attempts to come around quicker than he’s ever been able to. He loosens his grip in Levi’s hair and strokes the spot he’d been holding so tightly, the black strands wet between his fingers. “Oh my god.”

“S’that a good ‘oh my god’?” Levi asks, carefully getting up off his knees. He only reaches Erwin’s shoulders, even on his feet. “Erwin?”

“Mmfuck. Yeah. Good oh my god.” He whispers, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re amazing. You’re so amazing.”

Levi’s lips stretch into a smile and he rolls his eyes. “Shut up. Come here and clean me. Least you can do.”

Erwin nods dutifully and takes a warm, wet flannel to Levi’s face. He swallows as he wipes it against his cheek, against the mess he’s made. Levi closes his eyes and lets Erwin work, but he doesn’t seem annoyed. Rather, he’s smiling serenely. Like he knows how good he is. Like he knows how head over heels Erwin is. He probably does.

“You have work in the morning.” Levi states as Erwin runs the flannel over his thighs.

“Yeah.”

“Will you stay the night?”

Erwin wets the flannel and meets Levi’s gaze. “Would you like me to?”

“Mm. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.” He whispers. “I bet you never eat in the morning. You just chug coffee and leave for work, don’t you?”

Erwin huffs. “What about it?”

Levi reaches over to the dial and turns off the shower. He hands one of his bougie towels to Erwin and wraps the other around his waist. “Nothing.” Levi smiles. “I like taking care of people.”

Erwin watches as Levi makes his way through to the bedroom. He does his best to read between the lines of Levi’s cryptic message and figures what he’s trying to say is a big Fuck You. That, despite what Erwin claims, they may be better matched to one another than he thinks. And annoyingly, he thinks there may be some truth in that, because when he leaves the bathroom to join Levi, he’s the one that remembers to blow the candles out.