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Killin Me Softly

Chapter Text

The unattractive weeks-old grey-brown snow sags in tall clumps on the parking lot, only half-clean in large spaces. Mint green salt litters the black asphalt, and Levi wonders whether winter is worth anything, the way the prettiness lasts barely a day, the cold that lingers between layers of fabric, between his toes and fingers and teeth.


His dorm building is even uglier in January, bare trees and dirty snow offering little respite from the bland yellow-brown walls, square windows that were bitches to open. Levi sighs as he drags his suitcase through the parking lot, past the entrance of the dorm, and into the elevator.


His knuckle hovers over the fourth button, and his mouth twists into a scowl as he pushes the third button harder than necessary, not allowing himself to wince at the burst of pain. Eren’s not here yet, his mind unhelpfully reminds him, and, even if he were back, you don’t want to see him.


This is, of course, more or less true; Levi cannot look into his eyes ever again, might not even have the right to enter his room or acknowledge him in public (albeit only with familiarly rehearsed scorn, only to keep their secret). For all he knows, fucking is off the table completely.


Levi swallows, clutches the handle of his suitcase.


When he reaches his room, he’s thankful he doesn’t have to move out between semesters, if only for the slightly comforting feeling of returning to a room that accidentally became something home-like, something grounding.


Something separate from Eren, untouched by Eren’s voice, body. Levi kept things tidy in that sense; for all that they’d seen of each other, Eren’s never seen or visited Levi’s dorm. He intends to keep it that way. Not that there’s much chance of that, now.


Levi’s always found comfort in his self-control. He never expected…


He shakes his head, dragging his suitcase into the middle of the dorm and unzipping it. If he hurries, he’ll be able to settle in before Hanji, his roommate, returns. In their three years of dorm life together, Levi’s found that they always bring more back with them than they take, almost all of it unnecessary.


It’s only when he’s in his bed again, staring up at the ceiling in the dark room, that he allows himself to miss their exuberance.


He can’t force himself to appreciate the silence of the dorm above him, though.




Levi’s first year, he’d been lucky enough to have relatively silent neighbors. His second year, him and Hanji lived on the top floor; the only neighbors they had were athletes that rarely visited their rooms.


Last semester, within the first week of living in the dorms. Levi was ready to murder his upstairs neighbors. Between the constant too-heavy footsteps and frequent, suggestive thudding, Levi was barely restraining himself. Hanji was no better, though they never directly complained.


Barging upstairs, seeing Eren sitting pathetically outside his room, glaring at his phone and snipping at Levi—all of that was a mistake. It was a mistake, staring down at Eren, reasonably attractive even in a fit of suppressed rage. It was a mistake, talking to him, joking about payback and taking it seriously.


(He still remembers the weight of Eren in his mouth, behind him, above him, pushing him against the wall. Remembers the taste of his moans and the way the bed—his or Jean’s, didn’t matter, they fucked in both—creaked beneath them.)


One weekend of payback sexile—a full weekend, mind—jumpstarted whatever this thing was, this cloying, disgusting thing sneaking around Levi’s lungs, loitering in the space between his tongue and the roof of his mouth.


It was never supposed to mean anything, to either of them. Eren held up that end of the unspoken bargain, only contacting Levi about sex, only having Levi in his room then, never speaking or directly acknowledging each other in public unless required. Hell, it didn’t mean anything to Levi either, not until he’d accidentally admitted that he’d miss Eren like crazy during sex right before break, in-between haphazard thrusts.


Eren hadn’t replied. Levi left quickly after they both orgasmed, his clothes uncharacteristically wrinkled. Not that an abrupt departure was entirely out of character, but neither of them had classes they needed to rush to, nothing immediate to stop them from resting next to each other, allowing their breathing to slow.


They haven’t texted, haven’t talked. Levi doesn’t know when Eren’s coming back. Doesn’t know if this will continue.


He’s sitting in a small café, bored, picking apart a too-sweet crepe when he hears Eren’s roommate enter, laughing at something his boyfriend said.


Whether Jean knows the truth about Levi and Eren remains to be seen. Levi has his suspicions; however, they aren’t what drive him out of his seat, abandoning his unfinished purchases in favor of fleeing, melting into anonymity underneath shadows of laughing tree leaves.




Hanji arrives a day before classes start. They’re a welcome whirlwind, laughing at Levi’s cursing as they set two suitcases in the center of the room, then leave, only to return with a large box filled to the brim with snow globes.


Levi sighs. Their snow globe collection was the stuff of legend, spoken about incessantly but never seen. It’s as impressive as he’d expected; that is to say, he feels nothing but dismayed annoyance.


“Piece of shit, what’s practical about fifty snow globes in a tiny-ass dorm?”


Hanji hums, holding a snow globe in each hand, peering into the box. “They aren’t for me, silly. I thought they’d cheer you up! You’ve been depressed for weeks.”


Levi pouts in silence, resisting a childish verbal retort. They’re only trying to help, but Levi resents that Hanji noticed in the first place.


They clear their throat, look away. They set the snow globes on Levi’s desk, and he’d start lecturing them, but— “Besides, gotta cheer you up somehow. Especially now that our upstairs neighbors are back. They nearly ran into me while I was bringing these in.” They frown at the box, lovingly stroking the tops of the two snow globes.


Before he can catch his breath or think or swat Hanji away, Levi’s phone buzzes three times, Eren’s custom silent text alert.


While they’re busy unpacking the rest of their snow globes, Levi pulls out his phone, tries to control his blush.


Eren: back, and horseface won’t be back until tomorrow. coming?


Levi: That depends on you.


Eren: har har. hurry up


Levi: Better make it worth my while, prick.


Eren: that depends on you ;P


Despite Eren’s playful tone, Levi’s hands shake as he mutters something about getting coffee and shuts the door behind him before Hanji can ask questions. His heart is racing as he goes up the flight of stairs and restrains himself from speed-walking down the hall.


Eren’s door is propped open, just enough for Levi to enter.


Eren smirks at Levi once he sneaks in, closes the door behind him. The grin makes Levi’s heart ache, and he presses his lips together to keep from smiling back. Levi clenches and unclenches his hands as he steps forward and tilts Eren’s head down, kissing the smirk away.


He’s always enjoyed making Eren whimper, but the joy and arousal that floods him when he hears the sound, feels it against his tongue, teeth, as Eren pushes him against the wall is stronger than before. Levi distracts himself by grinding his hips against Eren’s.

Eren sighs, then pulls away, kisses Levi’s neck.


There’s an awkward gentleness in the way Eren’s lips drag against Levi’s skin, something almost reverent. It makes Levi pause, realize that Eren’s invited him back, that maybe…


“Eren, I—”


Those beautiful lips pull away from Levi’s neck; the whine that claws up his throat is completely unrelated to the unwanted space between them. Eren looks serious, determined, voice husky and unyielding as he breathes Levi’s name. “Stop talking, or get out.” The I don’t want to hear it, though unspoken, is unmistakable.


When Levi keeps silent, it isn’t entirely in obedience, but Eren interprets it as such, presses close and continues kissing his neck, rougher.


It’s almost worse than Eren ignoring him completely, this, expecting Levi to fall into their previous relationship.


Eren drags his tongue up Levi’s neck and bites his jaw gently.


A sigh rattles in Levi’s chest as he gently tugs Eren up and kisses him properly.


He’ll take what he can get, right now.


And if he can’t tell Eren how much he likes him verbally, well, Levi’ll just show him in different ways.


Levi pushes away from the wall, hands gripping Eren’s hips as he leads them away from the wall.

Chapter Text

Eren’s always been louder than Levi, but he seems subdued today, much to Levi’s disappointment. Perhaps it’s a show of solidarity, prohibiting Levi from speech and himself from sounds, but. Levi can’t think of it like that, just as he can’t quite think Eren’s punishing him through silence.


If anything, Eren’s shooting himself in the foot; Levi learned very quickly that Eren adores it when Levi speaks to him, says filthy things as he opens him up or fucks Eren’s mouth, his hands stroking or clutching Eren’s hair.


Eren’s hands wander up Levi’s shirt, fingertips skimming over his skin, raising goosebumps. Levi shivers, pulling away slightly, but Eren’s relentless, his mouth incessantly pressing against Levi’s, taking advantage of Levi’s gasp with his tongue, deepening the kiss.


They’ve stopped moving away from the wall, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. One of Eren’s hands clutches Levi’s neck, brushing against his undercut, his other hand pressed against the small of his back. His hands are warm against Levi’s skin, and he hates that they aren’t moving, that Eren refuses to be led.


Most of all, Levi resents that Eren’s horny enough to take advantage of him but angry enough that he’ll limit Levi’s speech. He knows that despite their shared silence, he could opt out and Eren wouldn’t push him; that they both continue demonstrates equal willingness, and they’ve communicated enough to know that they’re more than welcome to leave at any given point in time. It’s not dangerously restrictive; however, it cuts Levi deeply, and he finds that he’s only at half-mast. His heart hurts even as he finds enjoyment in Eren’s mouth and his caresses, finds enjoyment in lavishing Eren with attention.


He wonders if Eren’s noticed he’s not fully aroused, if Eren’s ignoring it or ignorant.


Levi considers leaving altogether as he lets Eren remove his shirt, tug at his jeans, palming his lackluster erection. Even as he strips Eren, dragging his nails down Eren’s chest, applying just enough pressure to leave marks without drawing blood, he toys with abandoning him. Levi’s hands don’t stop, though, continue down his torso, pausing briefly at his hips, leaving red marks that curve down his inner thighs. He admires his handiwork by rising again and dragging his tongue along the marks beside his nipples and pressing kisses down his torso.


Once Levi returns to his hips, his kisses become sloppier, open-mouthed and lingering, his hands gently holding his thighs still. Eren’s practically quivering beneath his mouth, fingers, breathing loud and shaky. Levi smirks up at Eren, allows his kisses to dip closer to his cock, cheek brushing against it during one kiss before moving away, mouthing his inner thighs.


“Levi, God,” Eren sighs, “you tease.”


Levi hums, moves up, licks his cock, then returns to his thighs.


“I’m clean, you know.” Eren coughs, always awkward when he mentions it, though he knows he won’t get much more without letting Levi know. “Took a shower and everything earlier.”


(If this was normal, if Levi hadn’t fucked up and Eren hadn’t demanded silence, he would’ve praised Eren, taunted him, called him pretty names and made him moan.


If this was normal, it would be sweeter, he’d kiss Eren’s lips and pull away just enough to continue teasing him, stroking his cock, taste and feel Eren’s moans before blowing him.)


Levi’s suddenly tired of teasing. His throat hurts, eyes sting with the threat of tears. He hates this, hates how damning the silence is, hates that he can still find it in himself to enjoy pleasuring Eren.


He wraps his mouth around the head of Eren’s cock, sucking on it before taking his cock deeper into his mouth, determined to continue. Leaving abruptly would let Eren know that he hurt Levi, that he got to him. Levi refuses to be so vulnerable.


Unlike previous blowjobs, Levi doesn’t take his time, bobbing quickly and sucking, occasionally barely grazing his teeth just the way Eren likes it. His hands cup Eren’s ass, nudge his hole playfully.


Once Levi’s brought Eren to the brink of orgasm, he pulls away, licking his cock before moving, reaching for his ass. He thinks he hears Eren gasp softly, whine, but Levi ignores it. This is for himself, not Eren; at least, this is what Levi tells himself as he kisses his hole and begins tongue-fucking him.


“Levi,” Eren moans, pressing his ass closer to Levi’s face.


Levi chuckles against him, and he’s always enjoyed this, always enjoyed the way his mouth affects Eren, even now. It’s soothing, the taste of Eren’s skin, how warm he always is, how his hands feel against his legs, holding him steady. Levi loves claiming him with his tongue, and he continues lazily licking, savoring the slide of his tongue, the way Eren’s taste mingles with Levi’s saliva.


As stupid as it is, this is one of the few times Levi isn’t disgusted by his saliva or drool, because this messiness is intimate, satisfying, and he knows Eren well enough to know that he’s cleaned himself thoroughly. His general cleaning standards aren’t up to par with Levi’s, but he’s found that Eren’s determined to do his part to satisfy Levi.


One of his hands begins stroking Eren’s cock as he presses closer to his ass, resumes plunging his tongue into Eren’s hole. Eren orgasms after a few minutes of this, and Levi’s hand aches a little as he pulls away, licks the come off his skin.


He looks up as he drags his tongue over his middle finger, catches Eren watching him breathlessly. Eren all but falls to Levi’s level, hands swooping up to Levi’s face as he ungracefully kisses Levi’s nose, then his mouth.


Levi doesn’t know what to do with his messy hand, so he refrains from touching Eren back altogether, lazily kissing him. He’s used to Eren after sex, the way affection oozes from him. It’s familiar, and Levi allows himself to get lost in the comfort of that, sighing softly against Eren’s mouth.


Eren pulls away to murmur against his lips, “let me take care of you, now,” and Levi finds himself dropping into an uncomfortable distant apathy as Eren palms his cock only to find that Levi isn’t even half hard anymore.


His mouth falls into a frown. Levi can’t be bothered to comfort him or come up with an explanation. It would be embarrassing, perhaps even damning, if Eren didn’t look so… upset? Offended? No, not offended. Levi might wager that Eren’s hurt.


No. He’s already misinterpreted him once. Levi’s probably just wounded his pride.


Levi clears his throat and stands up, watching Eren follow. He doesn’t know what to say, isn’t even sure if Eren deserves a response.


Eren steps forward to give him a goodbye kiss, and Levi steps back, moving to the door. “I have errands to run. And you need to unpack. And clean.” He looks around Eren’s dorm with slight disgust, noting that, for all the care Eren took in cleaning himself, his room hasn’t even been dusted, his suitcase unopened next to his desk chair.


Eren smiles, something fond and sweet, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Rain check, then?”


“Sure. I’ll let you know.”


Eren nods, and Levi leaves quickly, closing the door quietly behind him.


Instead of returning to his own room, Levi goes to his car and drives to his favorite Target store, the one that takes longer to get to but has more cleaning supplies and better lighting. He spends longer than usual perusing his favorite sections, pretending to consider whether he wants to buy a better duster.


When he returns to his dorm building, he goes to his own room and stays there. He goes to sleep in his own bed after watching a shitty superhero movie with Hanji, still not fully unpacked, and he falls asleep on his side, facing the ugly yellow wall, rendered slightly less hideous in the dark.

Chapter Text

Levi spends the first week in a blur of classes, sleep, and fucking himself. Jerking off, opening himself up, stuffing the other hand in his mouth to silence and comfort. He’s always careful, cleaning up after himself and indulging his needs when Hanji isn’t present.


His hands are a comfort, the silence of his dorm, the familiarity of his own sheets, dildo, lube, sounds—all, soothing. He can’t help it; even if Eren was better to him, even if they had what Levi wanted, he’d need this routine.


Even if—but, they aren’t, and Levi has millions of reasons to justify getting himself off, but avoiding asking for Eren is in the top three.


They haven’t texted all week, not really. There’s never been much friendly, nonchalant communication between them, for whatever reason. Eren’s perspective on that is something Levi can only guess; on his own part, Levi doesn’t care much for letting Eren reduce him to a distracted puddle, hanging on his every word, through something as stupid as texting.


That, and they don’t have much to talk about. What could they possibly have in common?


Levi’s thankful he doesn’t know where he’d start, thankful that bitching to Eren about his dumbass professors or the lackluster cleaning in the cafeteria isn’t an option.


Eren’s just an infatuation, Levi tells himself; how can it get any deeper than that, when he doesn’t even know how to reach out to him for anything other than sex?


There’s hands on his hips, now, muggy breath on his neck. The party roars to life around Levi, briefly drowned out by Eren. Levi sighs, his hands encouraging this man against him, a piss-poor replacement for Eren’s heat, Eren’s smirk and tongue and taste.


But. If he can wean himself off Eren, if he can find unattached intimacy and sex elsewhere, this infatuation will go away.


“Let’s go somewhere more private,” the man huffs against Levi’s jawline, pressing scattered kisses, and it’s warm and soft-rough, unlike Eren but just similar enough that Levi nods, fully consenting and following him away from the party.


He’s done nothing wrong, this Kurt or Lane or something goes above and beyond (for a random fuck) to ensure that both enjoy this, enjoy him pressing into Levi, holding him close, kissing his skin as he thrusts. He holds Levi in the end, the ten minutes Levi allows himself to lay in his arms.


There aren’t hard feelings on Levi’s part as he strolls back to his dorm, torn between enjoying the way he’s still rumpled, still basking in some hazy aftermath of almost-satisfaction and disgust.


It hits him right as he reaches his dorm that, no, this is wrong, it’s wrong that it’s not Eren he feels on his skin, that he never saw Eren, that he didn’t get to make Eren come, and, oh, it’s not quite guilt that overwhelms Levi, just something sad, something like heartbreak.


It’s only in the dorm showers, after assuring himself that he’s alone, that he allows himself to cry as he scrubs his skin. He can still taste him in his mouth, his body aches, and Levi just wants it to go away. He’s thankful that his crying is mostly silent, only truly noticeable when he breathes, shaky-slow-fast, something not quite gasping.


He’s brushing his teeth, when he realizes that he can fix this, get this sour feeling wiped away by visiting Eren. Clearly, at this point in his life, Eren’s it. Eren’s all he wants. This may be infatuation, may be shallow (not meaningful, never meaningful), but it’s not something he can treat lightly.


He’s clean and in sweatpants in his room when he reaches for his phone. Praying isn’t something Levi indulges in, but he’s willing to ask a higher power for support.


Levi: Are you free tonight?


Eren: i can be


Levi bites his lip, considers… what, interrupting his night? For comfort? Levi scoffs, ready to shut his phone off when Eren texts again.


Eren: are you okay?


His phone is shaking in his hands; he’s cried enough that no proper tears fall, and he doesn’t have it in him to be deeply ashamed as he dry-sobs. Eren’s always been perceptive when it comes to Levi.


There’s a romantic, fleeting idea, that Eren can sense the wrongness Levi feels. He dismisses it, but only after indulging it a moment.


Levi: I’m fine.


Eren: i don’t know if jean will leave tonight


Levi: That’s fine. I can tell Hanji to stay away.


Eren: … you sure?


Levi inhales slowly, looks away from his phone. Hanji’s snow globes are everywhere, his bed is made, the room clean. Hanji’s side is clean even as their stuff is somewhat scattered. It’s a decent balance of their personalities.


Eren doesn’t belong here, but he asked if Levi was okay, and Levi and vulnerability don’t mix well, but he owes it to Eren, owes him something. Something. No, not owes, per se, not after his refusal to let Levi speak, not after his refusal to address Levi missing him, but Levi’s tired of hiding his room from Eren like it’ll protect himself.


Levi: Yeah. Door’s open.


Eren: be there in ten


He sends a text to Hanji, asking them to stay away. They reply promptly, thankfully, giving him the space he needs with minimal teasing.


He’s on his bed when there’s a knock on his door followed by the handle turning, then Eren’s there, walking into his room, and Levi’s frozen on his bed, watching Eren’s gaze snap to him. Eren’s worried, if the twist of his mouth and the focus of his gaze says anything. He doesn’t bother examining the room, commenting on Hanji’s stuff present everywhere.


He simply closes the door, strides over and stands in front of Levi, sitting crisscrossed on his bed. The bed is up just high enough for his mini fridge to sit underneath, along with the shitty dorm dresser, and it makes him near Eren’s height, barely taller than him.


Eren’s close, his hands resting on Levi’s knees, gaze warm-concerned.


Levi pulls him close, shifting so that his legs dangle from the bed on either side of Eren. He tilts his head down and kisses Eren, sighing in relief as Eren doesn’t ask questions, just lets this be soft for a minute.


Levi knows, however, that Eren isn’t one for soft things, that he cannot come to Eren for comfort every time something bad happens. He bites Eren’s lip, lets his fingertips shift from gentle to bruising, holding him in place.


Eren seems more hesitant than normal, and Levi wants it to stop. One of his hands dips down, palming his cock. He’s fumbling with his pants, undoing them and sliding them down, when Eren pulls away gently, just far enough that Levi can’t kiss him properly. Eren’s hands are still on Levi’s hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his shirt.


“Stop, please,” Eren murmurs. “You’re not okay.”


Levi huffs. “Yes I am.”


“No, you’re not, you’re shaking. And you never text me after midnight.” Eren bites his lip. “You’re not obligated to talk about it, but if you want to, I’m here.”


Levi scoffs. “That’s rich. Stop acting like you care about me.”


Eren glares at Levi, and goosebumps assault his skin. “Only when you do.” Levi feels his features slip into confusion, but Eren’s faster, clearing his throat and wiping himself clean of previous anger.


“I believe we’re still supposed to be friends with benefits. Or, at least, I consider you my friend.” Eren clears his throat again. “Even if you don’t, I’m not going to have sex with you when you’re distraught like this.”


Levi’s eyes are burning, but he won’t let himself cry again tonight. He refuses to let Eren see his weakness, see him falling apart at the seams, corrupting this with feelings. He bites his lip, looks away, pretending to be irritated even when he can’t find it in himself to resent Eren for this, for considering his emotional state.


All the same, he doesn’t want to be alone, and he’ll go through a fucking with Eren to get Eren’s post-orgasm affection.


He tries to pull Eren back with his legs, but Eren doesn’t move close enough. Levi leans forward, and Eren stops him with one hand to his face, cupping his cheek. “Do you want me to stay?”


Levi shrugs, stuffing an exuberant affirmative deep down. “Hanji’s already not coming back tonight.”


Eren takes a deep breath. “I can stay, if you want.”


Levi raises his eyebrows, not trusting his voice. He crosses his arms over his chest.


“If you don’t kick me out, I’m taking your silence as a yes,” Eren replies. Before Levi can respond, Eren’s up on his bed beside him, pulling him close as they both fall back on his comforter.


“What are you doing?”


Eren rolls his eyes and kisses Levi’s forehead. “Holding you, moron.”


Levi snarls quietly as he snuggles closer, wraps an arm around Eren’s torso. Eren’s arms are warm and solid around Levi, achingly familiar. Affectionate, comforting. Confusing as all hell, but Levi tries to stop thinking.


“Relax, Levi. I’m not going anywhere.”


Pretty sure that’s the problem, Levi thinks as he closes his eyes.

Chapter Text

Eren knows he has an affection problem. And a Levi problem, while he’s at it, but that’s hardly the point. That Levi’s indulged him so far is nothing short of a miracle.


Then again, Eren knows exactly why Levi keeps coming back, and it has nothing to do with mutual affection. He puts up with Eren because Eren puts up with Levi, plain and simple.


(Of course, Levi also has a thing for affection; Eren’s definitely noticed, and it makes things less shitty on Eren’s part, mostly, because it’s easier to sate the urge to care for Levi when he can brush it off as an after-sex-thing they share.)


Eren reminds himself of this constantly. It hardly helps now, this familiar repetition, when he’s holding Levi in his arms. When Levi’s letting Eren surround him like this, he always curls into Eren, pressing close, almost softer and sweeter if Eren returns the favor, snuggling, holding him like he’s precious.


It’s only when Levi’s asleep that Eren can watch him like this, stroke his hair and hum nonsense. When he pretends they’ve progressed to something outspokenly meaningful, it hurts a little less, this caring thing wound between his ribs, pressing, pressing.


Eren knows tonight’s unprecedented, though he cannot understand fully what drove Levi to such lengths, calling Eren to his dorm, acting as though all they’re good for is a good fuck—but this is Eren’s fault, not speaking up, preventing this from progressing—he can’t complain.


He’ll allow himself only this, and he’ll be content with it.



Levi wakes with Eren’s familiar warm body pressed against his, close and snug in the small dorm bed. When he first tried to sleep with him at the dorms, Levi, having never attempted to fit two sleeping people in a dorm bed, assumed it would be uncomfortable; instead, he found the closeness a quiet comfort.


It could’ve also just been Eren. Heaven knows he couldn’t’ve slept in the bed with the man from the party, regardless of the bed.


Oh. There’s the guilt, sweeping up Levi’s sin. He turns, expecting Eren’s outrageous bedhead and finds the same wild hair that always leaves him a little breathless. Except, now, Eren’s watching him quietly, sleepily.


“Tch. Better not’ve stared at me like that all night.” Please tell me you slept.


Eren smirks at him, kisses his neck, hand sneaking underneath his shirt. “I got enough sleep,” he replies against Levi’s collar. He kisses Levi’s jaw, then slides down until his face is pressed against Levi’s thighs, nosing at his boxers. “Of course I didn’t,” Eren replies, breath brushing against his skin. Levi shudders.


“What would you like, Levi?” Eren’s mouth hovers over Levi’s cock, lips hovering over the fabric, hot breath suffocating him, and he’s sure he’s blushing terribly down at him.


“Shut up,” Levi grumbles as he somewhat begrudgingly, gently, holds Eren’s head in his hands. “Suck me.”


Eren playfully nips his boxers, and Levi’s aching as he removes them, licks him, sucks on his head.


Levi tests Eren, pushing a little harder on his head, forcing his cock slightly deeper into Eren’s mouth. Eren looks up at him, gaze playful and encouraging.


“Fuck,” Levi mutters as he presses him closer, Eren swallowing more of his cock. He’s relaxed enough that Levi’s control is smooth as he begins fucking his face harder, moaning around him as Levi continues talking to him, one hand caressing his neck. “Such a good boy, such a lovely mouth, all for me.”


(Is Eren’s mouth all for Levi, really? Can he claim something like that? Does Eren have other people he visits, fucks as sweetly? How can Levi feel so possessive when he sought comfort elsewhere?)


He comes down Eren’s throat with a grunt, Eren gladly swallowing him. He keeps his mouth around Levi just long enough that pleasure starts to sharpen with pain before pulling away and gently kissing his hips.


Before Levi can offer to relieve Eren, he finds himself face-to-face with Eren’s serious gaze. His hands have replaced his lips on Levi’s hips, gently tracing endless loops over his skin. “Are you feeling better?”


Levi coughs. “Somewhat. Thanks.”


Eren nods. “Anytime.”


Levi’s suddenly afraid that Eren’s about to leave before he can return the favor, and he winces, reaching up to caress Eren’s neck. He realizes that leaving Eren the other day just after his orgasm without the lingering, line-blurring affection afterwards was crueler than he realized. Even if he doesn’t regret fleeing then, he doesn’t want things to end quickly, now.




Eren blinks. “Me?”


“You better?”


“Yeah.” He looks hesitant, torn, before his features shift again, and he’s laying back down, pressing close. “Hanji still gone?”


“They won’t be back for a while.” Eren won’t look at him, pressed against Levi’s chest, and he’s bold enough to play with Eren’s hair as silence settles around them.


“You can pay me back in a few,” Eren mumbles, “just let me catch my breath.”


Levi nods, closes his eyes, lets himself fade for a little while, content to hold Eren.