Chapter Text
He comes into himself feeling all soft and slow and easy, somehow. It’s warm, in this bed, in this room. Levi thinks — the fire must be lit. Erwin must have lit the fire in the night. Perhaps the snow has begun to fall. He shivers in all that warmth, stretches himself from the tips of his toes to his fingers, back arched, a shuddering thing, like a bow pulled taut. The pillows smell like — mmph, all of it, yes, they smell like… Erwin, and Levi both, together-at-once. Levi is half-asleep, still, and warm. So warm. He huffs, his breath in little soft pants. His hair is sticky on his brow. And Erwin’s breath is — warm against him, on his face. Levi must see Erwin’s face, he simply must.
He pulls open his eyes. Erwin’s passed out on his side, lips parted. Levi lifts his chin, moves his face forward, to lightly nose against his cheek. Erwin scents like sex and friendly and safe and good. Levi lets his tongue stick out his mouth, lets it tease Erwin’s skin. Erwin frowns, a little, mumbles. “Mmm,” he sighs. “Levi,” he murmurs.
Levi, he says, like it’s a name he often uses, like there have been many mornings where Levi has woken up by Erwin’s side. Erwin lifts his arm and drapes it over Levi’s waist, pulls him closer. His breath smells, but Levi suffers it. It is a novelty. This is a grand novelty, this is — this is like from a story, or a dream. Levi never knew such a thing could be real. Or he thought, if it was, it was reserved for Good and Proper omegas, who fold their legs in chairs, and ride side-saddle, and get given sweet ribbons for their hair. Not omegas like Levi, all feral and shrunken, with rot baked into their skin.
But Erwin does not seem to think Levi scents like rot, not at all. He absently noses at Levi’s throat, unthinking, then settles back down into sleep. Erwin seems very gentle, now. Erwin seems like… the softest, kindness person there is. There’s nothing hard or cold about him, naked and snoozing in the dark early morning, stubble on his cheeks, hair mussed over his brow. He is no Commander at all. He is just Erwin. And Levi is no Captain — he is just Levi. And so long as Levi stays in his bed, in this warmth, they will just be Erwin and Levi, and it is a fine thing, a fine thing indeed.
Levi it hot and aching. He dares to slip forward, taste Erwin’s jaw, the stubble beneath his tongue. He licks him gently, patiently, to help Erwin sleep and show him that Levi is appreciative of everything he has done and is doing to keep Levi satisfied, and safe. He tastes the sweat on Erwin’s skin, rubs his cheek to Erwin’s cheek, licks at his temple to smooth down the soft hair there. He slips lower, and noses at Erwin’s throat, licks at his glands to taste himself.
“Mmm,” Erwin sighs again, and pulls open his heavy eyes. In the dark, they reflect only the light from the fire. “If you keep that up,” he warns, laughing lowly with a voice heavy with sleep, “you’re going to get a good fucking, Levi.”
Levi searches his face, his hooded eyes. He nips at Erwin’s jaw, cautiously, while Erwin watches him. He nips at Erwin’s nose.
“Tsk,” Erwin says, and grips Levi’s thigh, hikes it over his hip. “You think just ‘cause you’re a brat, I’m going to give you what you want?”
Levi starts to shake his head, but Erwin’s already slipped two fingers inside him, good and long. His protests catch in his throat. He feels his brows draw together. He whimpers.
“No?” Erwin teases. He crooks his fingers, curls Levi’s slick out of him. “Go on, little thing. Put me in my place, hmm?”
Levi’s presses his brow into the curled brown hairs on Erwin’s chest. Erwin’s cock is a great heavy thick thing, and Levi can smell it, and he can feel it against his belly. Levi blinks sweat from his eyes, bites his lip, huffing.
“No,” Erwin whispers. “That’s what I thought.”
He lays his hands on Levi’s hips and twists him round, hitches his arm beneath Levi’s knee, slips into him, sighing. “That’s it,” he urges Levi, using a hand to brush the hair out of Levi’s eyes. “Shh shh, that’s it, good boy.” He clicks his tongue. Levi’s toes curl. He drops his palm to Levi’s waist, grips the fat there, kisses Levi’s hair, his jaw, his ear. “Good wet cunt,” he’s grunting, animalistic. “Sloppy, good hole.”
Erwin slaps his hips against Levi again, and again, drives deep inside him carelessly. Levi whimpers again. It’s all coming out his mouth, long, crooning things. Erwin wraps his palm around Levi’s chin, pushes his fingers inside, lets him suck on them like a baby. “Shh shh shh,” Erwin whispers. “Shh, loud boy, hmm? Good Captain. Good Levi, take my cock good and easy,” he says, and brushes his nose up against Levi’s nape, the sensitive bundles of nerves. Levi’s eyes roll back into his head. His legs are tangled and pinned by Erwin’s thighs. He is held firm, and steady, and used like it’s all he’s there for.
“Soft pretty boy,” Erwin groans, in these quiet, long things. His groans are such a novelty, too. How does Levi get a man like Erwin to make those sounds? It must be true, these things Erwin says. Levi must have the tightest cunt, the best scent, the prettiest, blackest hair. Levi is just like a pretty good omega, beautiful and clean, and Erwin is licking at his nape, feral and desperate, like he cannot stop himself from tasting. “Good Levi,” Erwin croons at him, “Good, beautiful Levi, hmm? Sweetest Levi,” Erwin sighs, “and all mine.”
The words tip Levi over. He comes, hard and hot. Erwin uses his ass for some time in leisurely, exhausted claps of his hips. “Good boy,” he grunts, and licks Levi’s nape until he’s boneless and dripping into sleep. “Shh, shh,” he soothes, and when he comes, he softens in Levi, keeps him open like that, good and filled and satiated, until he drops down into sleep.
He dreams these long, bright, fevered dreams, where he’s held down by many hands. It’s not good — it upsets him, at first. Levi’s all up in the mud, and it’s beneath his nails, and the men are laughing. The hands must belong to men. To alpha, to some betas. And Levi begs them. But soon the mud is green grass, good and clean. Levi curls his fingers in it, tears at the green. Erwin takes him, beneath the tree, beneath the sky. He fucks Levi into the dirt, but it’s clean green clean. Levi smells like sunshine. The sun beats on them. He is hot and warm. He is hot and warm. He is hot, and hot, and hot. He is — he is —
Levi jerks awake. Erwin is slipping out, from between his thighs. “I’m — going to wash,” he says, and kisses Levi’s sweaty temple. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”
Levi watches him pad to the washroom with swollen eyes. There’s a buzzing in his head; it will not clear, not even when he rubs his eyes. He feels foggy, weighed-down, feverish. His belly hurts. He arches his back. He needs it, still. He needs it so bad.
He clambers off the bed and stumbles his way to the washroom. It’s steaming. Erwin is standing in front of the mirror, faucet running, bristled toothbrush in his mouth. Levi blinks to clear the fuzz from his eyeballs, rubs at them with his knuckles. “Er-Erwin,” he slurs, “Erwin, I — I need it again.”
Erwin raises his brows. “Again?” He says, with a kind of weariness.
“M’sorry,” Levi tells him as sincerely as he can manage. He leans himself over the counter in front of the mirror, flinches at the coldness of the ceramic sink against his chest. His nails scratch the wood. He cants his hips back, watches Erwin’s face in the mirror, watches his own with a distracted, distant fascination, like he’s watching two people he’s never met before. Is that his own face? His mouth is open, his eyes are heavy-lidded, his rubbing his sloppy hole against Erwin’s pelvis. Erwin holds the toothbrush in his mouth with his teeth, guides himself back in. Levi shudders, braces his hands on the counter. Erwin’s hand slips up his nape, and Levi’s eyes roll back into his head. “Nngh,” he breathes. Erwin’s thumb drives the scruff deep; Levi’s knees give out.
Erwin clicks his tongue. “Easy, sweetie,” he soothes him. He’s brushing his teeth, Levi realises — he can hear the scrubbing, the thick foam in his mouth. “Hold on a second,” he tells Levi, fucks him absently, slowly, while Levi claws at the counter and whimpers.
Erwin spits into the sink by Levi’s head. Some of the water from the faucet splashes his face. “Alright,” Erwin is saying, “you have my full attention now, Levi.”
Levi is propelled against the counter with the force of Erwin’s thrusts. Yes, he thinks, but doesn’t know if he says it, can barely hear himself over the running water. He might be thanking Erwin again, but he doesn’t know what else to say, or how else to say it. Thank you for taking care of this, he might tell him, thank you for easing it, inside me, and being so gentle.
“Tsk,” Erwin is saying, “oh, you poor thing.”
Levi’s got wet all down his thighs. His cock is still hard, desperately, against his belly. It rubs against the cupboard beneath the sink. Erwin seems to see this, and helps — he picks up one of Levi’s thighs, makes him brace his knee on the counter. Now when Erwin fucks him, it is deeper, somehow; Levi thinks he might combust.
“Sweetheart,” Erwin says, gently, “just look at you.”
Levi does, or doesn’t; his eyes are roaming. They notice little things — the open pomade, the mint growing in a pot by the window, Erwin’s briefs lying damp by the bath. Erwin patiently corrects him.
“No,” he says, “look at yourself, Levi. Right there,” he steers, gripping Levi’s nape and lifting his head to look at the mirror. “That’s it, sweetheart. You look right there,” Erwin tells him, and he scents like something Levi’s never really scented off him before, a shaky possessiveness, yes, but even more than that — something so — so alpha, which is saying to him, little Levi, my Levi, good Levi, something… something feral, full of machismo, and a desire to own. Levi tries to obey.
His cheeks are flushed with the steam, or the heat, nose peppered red, hair stuck to his brow with sweat. He can’t focus on himself — his eyes drift to Erwin, the intensity of his eyes, brows drawn downwards as he fucks, hips snapping into Levi hard enough to make him choke. The brown hairs on his chest. “Ngh,” Levi rasps, “Erwin?”
Erwin meets his eyes, distractedly. “Ah ah,” he chides, grips Levi’s chin and steers him back to the mirror. “Right here, little one. You look at yourself, and look at yourself good, now.”
Levi’s eyes are crossed over, hazy, mouth open. There’s spit running off his tongue, but he feels good and fucked, almost-satiated. “Nnngh,” he moans, rocking in time with Erwin’s thrusts, scruffed and limp. “Mmm,” he breathes, eyes shut. He licks the spit off his chin and lets his tongue hang out his mouth, inhales big gasping lungfuls of air.
“Tsk, oh,” Erwin says, so gently pitying, “there’s nothing going on inside your head at all, is there Captain?”
Levi nods, dumbly, not really understanding the question. His spit drips into the basin.
“Look at you,” Erwin grunts. He strokes Levi’s back, comforting and warm. “Shh, beautiful. Shh, look at those eyes, there’s nothing behind them, hmm?”
Levi blinks, blearily, nods his head. “Nuh-uh,” he agrees, thinking Erwin should fuck him deeper and harder. Erwin should — should put his hand inside him. His fist. Levi would take it and take it and squirm, and he might reach the itch inside Levi, so deep inside him, impossible to quench. “Mmph, harder, please,” he slurs.
“I have — “ Erwin chokes, “my presentation, to the squad leaders,” he breathes. “A few days. I’ll get — Mike, to do your paperwork — “
Paperwork? Why is Erwin talking about paperwork? Papers. Paper?
“So you don’t need to — God,” Erwin croaks, wincing, bracing the hand which isn’t on Levi’s nape against the counter, his chest to Levi’s back, “ — worry about, sweetheart — “
Levi wasn’t worrying. Levi isn’t worried, except for scratching the itch inside, cooling the heat, splitting himself open.
“If you have — “ Erwin grunts, “anything — you want me to pass on — ah,” he breathes, “any thoughts, or — or a message — about the formations — “
Mmm? Levi has gone cross-eyed and blurry-visioned. “Fuck me harder, please,” he replies, putting all his mental energy into getting the words out in the right order. His tongue feels swollen.
“Ah,” Erwin laughs, although he sounds pained, “alright then. Don’t worry. G-good boy, Levi. Good boy. Good Captain.” He strokes Levi’s sweaty hair off his brow. “You’re going to get me knotting Levi. D’you — do you know how much — the willpower — “
Yes, Erwin might knot him, might get him good and thick with it. He'll get... he'll get Levi so fat with it, more than Levi's ever taken before, but he'll take it for Erwin, yes-he-will. He'll get -- he'll take -- Erwin will fill him with it, and everyone will smell that Levi's been knotted, he'll leave this room and they'll all know, Levi's a proper omega, a good omega, that he's bent over and taken it like he should, that Erwin has claimed him as his own. Yes, Erwin should claim him. Erwin should make him wear his scent, now and forever. Erwin just needs to -- split him open, and then Levi will belong to him, everyone will know it, and they'll know -- know that Levi's so -- that he's the prettiest omega, the best omega, because Erwin is the prettiest alpha, the best alpha, and he really could have anyone, he really could have any omega in the walls but he's fucking Levi, and he thinks Levi scents like linen and sunshine --
"Unngh," Levi moans, like a stupid whore. His eyes roll back into his head, one eye twitching, tongue fat and sloppy and drooling. If he had a moment of clarity, he might think it was humiliating, but he is beyond clarity. There's nothing in the walls he wants except to be held down and kept wet and fucked so raw he's trembling.
Erwin grunts, and pumps, and pulls out. Levi slips onto the floor. Erwin braces his hand on the counter above his head. "Look at me," he pants. "Keep your tongue out. No, shut your eyes, sweetheart," he says, gently. "Mm, that's it," Erwin sighs, and finishes himself on Levi's face in long drawn out ropes. "That's it," he's gasping. "Oh, that's it, Levi. Good boy. Good, sweet boy."
Good, sweet boy. Yes, yes, Levi is. He really really is. Erwin's come drips off his eyelashes. He rolls down his cheeks, Levi dares to swallow the ropes that have landed in his mouth, lick them off his chin. I am Erwin’s, he thinks, deliriously. He wraps his arms around Erwin’s legs, rubs his cheek against his bare thighs, leg hair rasping on his face, as affectionate as he can be. And he is mine! He thinks, and feels giddy. He wants Erwin to know how grateful he is. He licks the sweat off his skin, kisses his knees, his calves, his feet. Erwin gently picks him up. “Come on, now,” he says. “Someone woke up feeling sweet this morning.”
Levi helps Erwin dress, is as helpful as he can be, sitting and watching Erwin put the pomade in his hair, and pull on his socks, do up his buttons, slip on his shoes, tuck in his shirt. Erwin slips his tie around his neck, watches Levi in the mirror. “Would you like to do the honours?” He offers, and Levi stands, tugs Erwin’s tie tight as gently and neatly as he can, smooths down the sharp-pressed collars of his shirt, stands on his toes to brush imaginary lint of Erwin’s shoulders. Erwin’s throat smells like Levi. Levi forgets himself again, snuffles against it, tries to taste himself on his tongue to make sure for certain that it’s Levi that’s there and not some other bitch trying to poach. Levi searches and searches and falls into Erwin, pushes him up against the wall in his quest for truth, but it’s all just Levi-Levi-Levi, sun-warmed stone and linen, that’s what Erwin said, proud to wear Levi as his scent, to claim him.
“Alright,” Erwin is huffing, smiling warmly, “that’s enough, Levi, you can’t keep me forever.”
Levi tries not to pout. He would very much like to. He braces himself against the wall, spreads his legs. “Quick?” He asks politely. “Just before you go?”
Erwin kisses him, carelessly, even as he’s shrugging on his jacket. “Levi,” he says, “I don’t even have another in me so soon.” He cups Levi’s nape, strokes him off. “Go on,” he orders, “back to bed. Doctor’s orders.”
Oh, it’s a kiss. It really is a kiss. Levi’s eyes are shut, he’s swaying. He would like another. He steals one, grips Erwin’s shirt and pulls him down and kisses him again, licks in his mouth until Erwin’s making this strange groaning sound, his big rough palm cupping Levi’s bare ass. Levi thinks he’s won. He thinks he’s going to get another fucking, or some fingers at the very least, but Erwin pulls back, thumbs at his mouth to smears Levi’s spit clear.
“Ah, Captain,” he half laughs. "Show me your hole, would you?" He asks, politely. "Let me just see your cunt one more time before I go."
Levi leans against the chest of drawers and lifts his hips, puts an arch in his back. He feels Erwin peer at him; he feels Erwin's come dripping out his hole in long, slow drips. "Is it good?" He slurs. "Is it pretty?"
"Your cunt?" Erwin says, and it sounds like he's smiling. "Oh yes, Levi. The prettiest I've ever seen. I've kissed you already," Erwin tells him, mildly. "Once on the mouth," and his thumbs prise Levi's asscheeks apart, "and how about once here, just for good luck?"
Erwin's lips ghost Levi's swollen, sloppy hole. They kiss it as gently as you would kiss a lover's temple. Levi moans. Erwin would kiss him there, so filthy, so -- so fucking filthy. Levi would -- he should crawl onto Erwin's head and beg him to lick all the slick right out of him, clean him right out, yes, yes he would. "Please," Levi begs, "touch my cunt. Please just play with it, don't go. Just touch it, please, keeping touchin' it, please, Erwin, please."
"Oh, Levi," Erwin says, with a voice that's so heavy with something, and a scent that's singing nothing but pleasure. "If only they could hear you now."
He slips a few fingers inside Levi, absently, but doesn't play with him the way Levi needs. Levi turns over, watches Erwin smear his slick on his throat. "I'll go shake hands with these fingers, Levi," Erwin tells him earnestly, “and I’ll think of you while I do it.”
I’ll think of you while I do it. Levi will think of Erwin. All day, rolling with heat deep inside him, he’ll think of Erwin, dream of him. Erwin’s been good to him. Erwin said Levi smelt like the linen, left to dry in a warm fresh field. Erwin said Levi smelt so clean. That’s the damned nicest thing anyone’s ever said to him. If Farlan was here right now, he’d laugh at him. You doe-eyed, Levi? He’d say. You got the flutters in your chest and your belly and between your thighs? Rock washed by rain. Levi is not — sewage, or rotting, or anything at all. He is clean and good and earthy, Erwin says. So Levi folds away all the clothes he has ruined, and sets Erwin’s papers, and straightens the bed which scents like good-sex-warm-happy-content. He does not scrub or wash — he does not want to lose the smell of a single thing, they’re the best smells in the world, and it is starting to smell like a real nest, which Levi has never had before. He does not want Erwin to think he is lazy, lying in bed all day. He wants to earn his keep in other ways.
Farlan had shown him some other ways, spoken about them. Good tricks. Farlan could — bat his eyelashes, just so. Levi looks foolish when he does. Farlan would sit with his knees held together and ankles crossed. He’d dip perfume behind his ears, and on his wrist, and sometimes behind his balls. He’d do something with pomade that made his hair look artful. There was rouge, and kohl for the eyes, but Levi wouldn’t know where to start, and anyway, he doubts Erwin has anything like that lying around. But he wants to show his appreciation, somehow. Levi can suck cock well enough, can take Erwin’s whole knot in his throat. There are tricks the Os used to talk about Below — they would clench, and build their muscles, and boast they could pull a man off with one stroke. Levi hasn’t got time for all that, it takes years to get good at that sort of thing, and Levi only has a few hours at most.
He could treat Erwin well. He would — he could — try other tricks. Present himself nicely, or rub Erwin’s feet. He could rub Erwin’s back, oh, he could. He would lie Erwin on the bed and all that muscle would belong to Levi alone, and all the other omegas would be so jealous. He and Levi would walk through the town, and they would all stare at him and think bitch, how did someone like him get Commander Smith? But Erwin would just drop his hand on Levi’s shoulder, and show everyone he claims him, and Levi would feel nothing but smug. It wouldn’t bother him at all, because Erwin would show everyone Levi was his. Erwin would be proud Levi was his. He’d take him to all the fancy, sweet places — oh, he would buy Levi a ribbon to tie back his hair, and perhaps a flower to tuck behind his ear like in the plays. They may even holds hands, Levi thinks. Would they go to good restaurants, the kind where they pull back your chair for you, and serve strange, delicate food?
No, no, Levi is getting ahead of himself. He flattens down his hair in the mirror. It’s no use getting ahead of himself. Erwin hasn’t said anything like that, not at all, and Levi is too old to be — to be lovesick, like a teenage O in their first flush. Levi had spent his first flush with his knees locked to his chest in the small closet in Kenny’s safe-house. Kenny had given him a bucket to shit in, a bucket to wash with, and had passed food through the window. The word ‘flush’ is stupid, a strange lie that alpha fathers might make up because they do not want to imagine their maiden sons and daughters drooling fluids from all three holes and moaning. Levi thinks, ‘first flush’ sounds quite sweet, quite pleasant. Kenny had sat on the roof for four days, holding his rifle. It was the most privacy he could give him. And Levi had felt like sick filth, afterwards, like scum, even though Kenny told him it meant it was a grown O, now, and had bought him new shoes to celebrate.
You’re supposed to get a collar, or a bracelet, or an anklet. Kenny wouldn’t have paid for any of that. And it never served Levi to show he was a bitch of breeding years, not Underground. But Levi is not some — weak, first-flushed thing, unsure of their body, confused by it. He’s a mature man, of many years experience, and Commander Erwin thinks he is clean, that he is the best-scented omega there is, and so why should he not — wear a collar, or an anklet, and be treated as a real omega should, and not as a fake-beta, like he is just another one of the alphas. That’s what Erwin always said before. He was very lib-er-al. Well, now Erwin’s been inside him, used his mouth, used his ass. Erwin won’t be so liberal now.
Levi dips two fingers into the waxy, thick tin of pomade. He copies how he saw Erwin do it this morning — rubbing it between his palms to warm it. He lifts his hands to his face; they smell like Erwin, now. This pomade is Erwin’s smell. Levi's own hair is hanging limp around his brow -- you don't wash during a heat, that would be... that would... Levi shudders, that would strip off all the good-scent-happy-safe-warm-Erwin'sown, it would leave him naked, scentless and shivering, it would leave him scraped bare and nothing at all. He cards it through his hair the way Erwin had, smoothes his bangs back on his head, stares at himself. Does he look like a fool? Maybe. But Levi often thought the pretty omegas looked like little fools, so he's not one to know. If he had -- if he had a piece of ribbon, now. If he had a shining, silky piece of ribbon, in bright red, or dusky pink, or Corp's green. He wouldn't even wear it in his hair, that would be foolish, but he might -- tie it on his wrist, or through his gear, and someone might ask, where did you get such a fine piece of fabric, and Levi would say, carelessly, as if it does not matter at all, oh, this? My alpha, Commander Erwin, bought me this. Everyone would know then what a good and fine omega Levi is to have won Erwin's affection, to wear his favour so plainly.
By the time Erwin returns, sky dark, fire lit, Levi is hot beyond despair. He has changed his mind. Erwin is cruel. Erwin is hopelessly, helplessly cruel. Levi will tear out his eyes, he will rip out his throat with his teeth. Levi moans and moans and holds his stomach and tosses and turns on sheets which are always too warm, always tangled on his legs. He fucks his fingers into his hole and digs around, roots inside himself as if he thinks he might find something buried, forces in his thumb and swallows his own fist whole, curled over and moaning like a sow, but it’s not enough. Nothing will be enough. He comes on the sheets, stinking and filthy, until a point where he no longer can. And then Levi thinks he might tear off his skin. He might simply have to tear off his own skin to quell the itching. He presses himself against the cold, icy window, until the glass warms. He rolls on the floorboards, scratches his skin on the rough rug at the foot of the bed, drapes himself in velvet, buries himself in Erwin’s heavy dress coat. He will leave, he decides. He will throw on Erwin’s shirt and he will — crawl down these halls, crawl and crawl, until he finds him, until he finds a single person who will take care of him, who will —
When Erwin returns, as he always does eventually, Levi is fucking himself with the upturned end of brush he used to sweep the floors. It’s thick, short, oiled. Long, too, and bulbous in the middle. Levi is beyond humiliation. Perhaps he even gets a sick sense of satisfaction. Look, he wants to say, look, you’re not even needed at all Commander, a wooden brush can do just as well. Erwin’s sleeves are rolled up, he’s carrying stacks of files in his arms. He barely raises his brows. “Fair enough,” he says, sets the papers down on the table.
“Fair enough,” Levi croaks, but he wants it to be a snarl. He lifts his hips and spreads his thighs and considers putting aside his dignity to ask Erwin to drive the brush so deep inside him, to fucking punch it in to him. Instead, he does what he has been doing for the past hour or so — squirming down the bed so the bristled end of the brush is knocked against the end-board and fucking himself on it, like a stupid little whore.
“Can’t be too satisfying,” Erwin sighs, and sounds sympathetic. He winces as he pulls off his boots. “I’m sorry, Levi,” he says, and he might even mean it, but Levi does not care for his earnestness. “There is work to be done, still, before the presentation.”
“Fuck your presentation,” Levi rasps.
“Yes,” Erwin agrees, “I would rather be fucking you, you know.”
“So do it,” Levi demands, sits up. “Why’d you got to — why’d you got to go?”
“Go? I’m Commander, Levi.” Erwin is pulling off the straps of his gear. “I know you’re in pain,” he says, gently. “I know. If you knew what — it serves no one if I disappear into this room, Levi. It leaves… a vacuum.”
There is a clarity which comes from being so fucking removed from your alphas scent, right in the thick of your heat. “A vacuum?” Levi replies, scathingly. “A fuckin’ vacuum? You think anyone gives a shit? You think — you think — Zackly could walk through here tomorrow and he wouldn’t fuckin’ know a thing about how anything is done. No one’s gunning for your job, Erwin — “
“For my job? No,” Erwin agrees. “Other things, of mine.” He stands, brushes his hair loose on his head, frowns down at Levi. “Have you done something to your hair?”
Levi struggles to right himself, feeling more naked than he is. “Other things of yours?” He demands, not understanding the order of the words. He ignores Erwin’s comment about his hair. He’d only wanted to try it, like a pretty omega would.
“I would rather not trouble you with it,” Erwin says, gently. He leans down the bed, to cup Levi’s cheek, and Levi snarls, snaps his teeth at his palm.
“Trouble me,” Levi demands, “I am already — already troubled — “
“Worry you, then,” Erwin corrects. “Sweetheart,” he says, and starts to climb over the end-board. “I’m sorry. This is cruel of me, I know. I am trying — “
“Trying,” Levi mocks, and starts to fuck himself again, rolling his hips in embarrassing tiny circles, sheets twisted in his fingers. “Try — tr — trying, trying my ass. Trying my — “
“Let me take the edge off,” Erwin offers, “before the food comes. I have more work that must be — “
Erwin is a — a lying seducer, is what he is. He’s like one of those alpha who will — they’ll slide up to you, in filthy bars, and try to put their hands between your thighs, but they do it so gently because they think they’re being clever. Levi rolls away. “I’m going to find someone else,” he declares, deliriously. “Omegas, a whole — whole pack of them, to take me through, or — or Mike,” he spits, just to watches Erwin’s face fall, “or — or Trant,” he picks, just to upset him.
Erwin’s face darkens. “Trant,” he says, drawing back. He stands at the foot of the bed. “Is that so.”
“Trant would be — grateful — “
“Trant would be grateful for a drop of your piss, if he thought he was taking it from me. Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”
Levi grins, ferociously. “Y’think I don’t know how these things work, Erwin?”
“Clearly you know exactly how they work, or you wouldn’t have said those words to me. When I say, you do not understand, I mean — “ Erwin shakes his head. “Levi, it is wrong of me to use sharp words with you,” he seems to realise. He huffs. “I leave you here all day to suffer and then I come back and treat you harshly. You have my apologies, really you do, it — it is a madhouse, out there.”
Levi sniffs. “A madhouse?”
“There are some who take issue with — the new state of affairs. But I don’t want you to worry about it,” Erwin says, earnestly. “I don’t want you to think on it at all, I have it all in hand.” Erwin brushes his hands through his hair again and scents slightly frazzled, which makes Levi feel frazzled, and Erwin must notice Levi’s scent dipping from irritation and stress into something more anxiety-ridden, because he shakes his head and soothes him.
“Here,” he says, gently, and lays his hand on the end of the brush, carefully pulls it loose, glistening in Levi’s slick. “Let’s remove your tail, yes?”
Levi feels suddenly and stupidly humiliated. He’s used worse, before. Ends-of-brooms and once, dangerously, the hilt of a dagger. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he croaks. What a stupid fucking whore he is, huh? Erwin’s supposed to — supposed to think he’s a nice and pretty thing, and Levi’s here spitting at him and snapping his teeth. And Levi had it all planned — he was going to be so sweet when Erwin returned. He was going to take his coat and shoes and do it all right, but he’s fucked it up, he’s just fucked it up, and his head is full of steam again. “I ain’t a filthy thing,” he promises, “it just hurts.”
Erwin smells exhausted, all tired and tight-wound. Levi feels sorry for not making this easy for him. Erwin is collecting his papers beneath his arms. “Nature is very cruel to omegas,” he says, “and you are very cruel,” he adds, “for making me jealous of a brush.”
He throws it, somewhere, and climbs onto the bed, and Levi is happy once more. Erwin devours him. It is sex — there’s no pretence, or playing, or one partner trying to just satiate the other. It is the both of them, desperate for each other. Erwin scents beaten and frayed, and Levi is sticky and aching. Erwin fucks into him and Levi scratches his nails across his back, locks his heels over Erwin’s hips. Erwin says all the right things: “Levi,” he pants, messy in his desperation, leaving trails of saliva up Levi’s throat, spit in his mouth. “Beautiful fucking man,” he chants, like a prayer. “All mine. All of mine, just mine, my bitch, my bed.” He fucks into Levi so sharply and so fully, filling him up from the inside, fucking him the way he deserves, like an omega with an alpha.
“Thank you,” Levi croons, “thank you, thank you — “
“Stop thanking me,” Erwin grunts. “I — “ he pants, “should be thanking you — “
Doesn’t matter, Levi’s all lost with it. “Erwin,” he keeps saying, or, “Commander,” or, “fuck me harder,” or something even more stupid, like, “oh, oh, oh.” He’s fucking the stress right out of his Erwin.
“My Levi,” Erwin is gasping. There’s sweat dripping off his brow. “My Levi, my fucking Levi. I — I own this cunt — “
“You own it,” Levi agrees, desperately, “it’s just for you, only for you — “
“No one’s going to — no one would dare. No one would dare — “
Erwin’s blood is beneath Levi’s nails, coppery smelling. Even his blood scents like sex, satisfaction, possession. “This is your cunt,” Levi chants, “it belongs to you, only to you.”
“To Mike?” Erwin grunts. “To Trant?”
Levi shakes his head. “Never,” he swears.
“You — you think Trant is more alpha than me, Levi? You think he could take you down so good? You think he could own this hole — “ Erwin slaps Levi’s ass, “ — that he could — could get Captain Levi good and satisfied — “
Something like irritation stirs in Levi. “Stop — fuckin’ talking about Trant — “
“You’re the one who — “ Erwin’s hair drips onto Levi’s brow, “told me you would — “
“So fuck me,” Levi gasps, “just — fuck me, and make me yours, then, and no one will ever doubt — will ever think anyone but you — “
“No one will doubt,” Erwin agrees, but his brow furrows, almost angry. “You’re mine, you’re mine, I took you. I fuck this hole, I — “
“So prove it!” Levi snarls, and he lifts his chin, nips at Erwin’s nose not-gently. “Don’t say it, prove it!”
Levi denied himself this so long, why? Well there were no alpha like Erwin, where Levi came from, kind and clean and strong. Levi will give himself to him. Erwin who — took him, and made him Captain. Has given him this home, has given him —
“Knot me,” Levi pleads. “Fuckin’ knot me!”
“Knot you?” Erwin grunts.
“Hold me in place! Fill — fill me up!”
Erwin pulls out and manhandles Levi like he weighs nothing, or perhaps is nothing. He flips him, slams him facedown on the mattress, stinking like Levi’s spend. Erwin’s thighs pin Levi’s thighs. His arms pin Levi’s wrists. He covers him, Erwin’s chest to Levi’s back, covers him like the warmest blanket, a heavy pressure, instinctually reassuring, base instinct, the way alphas have covered their omegas always. He fucks back into him. He does not move. “So hold it,” he says, in Levi’s ear, while Levi whimpers. “Shh shh shh, little one, little one,” Erwin soothes. “It’s no punishment. Fucking hold it,” he says, and even that word, fucking, it’s said so gently, followed up with a kiss to Levi’s temple. “Hold it. Can you feel it? Ah,” Erwin grunts, “I’m sorry. I’m twitching, aren’t I?”
Erwin’s cock has filled him up and stretched him and it doesn’t matter how much Levi squirms, or clenches, it is immoveable. It — snaps something. There is something instinctual and primitive within Levi which suddenly curls up and relinquishes. Levi’s little feet stop their kicking. His fingers slowly loosen their grip on the bedsheets. He breathes in deep breath through his nose, feels it fill his lungs, lift his back and press him into Erwin’s chest. When Levi exhales, slowly, eyelids drooping, Erwin pushes the air out of him with his weight. He breathes for Levi, even. He dictates when Levi draws breath. But there is no panic. There’s nothing at all. Levi thinks of nothing. He is covered by his alpha. In heat. Covered head to toe, and everything stills. The snarling, snapping. The desperation. Levi is covered, and filled. He will breathe when Erwin lets him breathe, and Erwin will. Erwin’s hips are still; he holds Erwin’s cock. He is Erwin’s perfect sheathe.
“That’s it,” Erwin says, nuzzles at Levi’s nape. He’s mimicking the knot. If Erwin were to knot him, this would be how he did it — but bodies are easy to trick. Erwin must have tried this trick on other omegas, Levi thinks, but Erwin must smell his sudden spike of anxiety because he nuzzles Levi’s nape again, and the thought of it flees. “You alright, sweetheart? It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
Levi tries to shake his head but the creeping tranquility make it hard. “Mmm mmm,” he says instead, cheek smeared in the pillow.
“Good, good,” Erwin sighs, earnestly. His breath is very warm. “Good and safe, now. Good and safe,” he says again, seemingly for his own benefit. He absently fucks his hips, wriggles inside Levi’s hole. Levi whimpers, but he can’t do anything about it. He can only take it.
“Put in your place,” Erwin says, “where you belong. Making — making demands of me, little one,” Erwin half-laughs, throatily. “Shh, easy now. If only I had known this before. We should have done this Below, shouldn’t we? I could’ve just — scruffed you, right there and then. Would you have taken it? You probably would have killed me. But I thought myself quite modern then. Doesn’t matter. There’s always something to regret.”
Erwin noses at Levi’s nape and it sends little shivers through him. Levi could come. He feels so good he could come. All it would take if for Erwin to rub at him a little more, and then Levi will squeeze down on Erwin’s cock and squirt all over the sheets, and he’ll still have to take it after, a perfect little hole. He’ll get fucked and fucked and fucked good.
“And breathe,” Erwin reminds him. He inhales deeply next to Levi’s ear, to encourage him. “Don’t fall asleep on me now, Levi.” They exhale together. Levi — it doesn’t matter. He’s not thinking now. This is as safe as he’s ever going to be.
“Good,” Erwin says again, quietly. His breath is warm on Levi’s skin. His hair tickles Levi’s ear. He kisses Levi’s sweat-slick temple. “Such a tight little hole. I could stay here for hours,” and Erwin’s voice is all drowsy. “This is all I need, you see, after such a hellish — day. I could stay here all night. I could happily spend the rest of my life between your thighs, Levi,” Erwin sighs, happily.
Please do, Levi thinks.
“No thoughts,” Erwin says, and sounds envious. “I’ll bet you’re not thinking of anything at all. I wonder what it must be like, to be omega. Like I say, nature is cruel. You must take the benefits where you can steal them.”
Erwin hooks his knees on either side of Levi’s thighs, pulls them shut. Erwin must be — the only alpha alive who wants their omegas to keep their legs closed, but Levi will not complain, cannot complain, blissed away, somewhere, covered and held and warm and rolling through soft pleasurable waves.
“Tight,” Erwin grunts again. “Levi, I was once gifted the most exquisite pair of — “ Erwin can’t seem to resist drawing out just a little, fucking back in slowly, forcing the air out of Levi’s lungs achingly until he’s compressed flat into the mattress and drooling, “doeskin gloves. Soft as butter, tight as anything, but your cunt,” Erwin huffs, “Levi, your cunt… they could write songs, about your cunt.”
Perhaps Erwin will. Erwin will write poems to Levi’s cunt, and recite them, and everyone will know Captain Levi is prettiest whore that ever lived, the most desirable omega in all the walls. Men have asked him before, show us what you have beneath those clothes, but not from desire, more from… an urge to dominate. Or own. But Erwin, he waxes lyrical about Levi’s body because he desires it, the way an alpha desires an omega, or the way any person might desire anyone. He wishes to consume Levi, and Levi wishes to consume him.
Erwin’s nose is pressed up against the back of Levi’s head, and one hand is hastily curling through his hair, trying to stroke it, to soothe him. “Shh shh,” Erwin is saying again, whispering. “I’m going to fuck you like this, Levi,” he tells him. “You’re not going to do a thing but lie here and take it. My personal sheathe, hmm?”
Levi makes whatever noise he can in assent. Erwin’s teeth fall on Levi’s nape. He could bite Levi. He could sink his teeth in and it would be the worst pain Levi’s ever felt — he’s been hurt there before. There’s no equivalent for an alpha or beta. It’s just unending, cascading pain. Erwin’s teeth scrape him, and Levi sparks with involuntary shivers, but no fear. He does not fear at all. Erwin will not hurt him, not even accidentally; Erwin is perfectly in control, and Levi is perfectly safe.
Erwin scruffs him, the traditional way. Gets the skin there and pinches it lightly with his teeth. Levi goes boneless. He is — he is — squirting, into the sheets, just like that. He is coming and coming, eyes rolling back into his skull. Erwin fucks him, but Levi’s done. He’s gone. Erwin fucks and fucks him but he’s just content to be used, finally satisfied, finally filled, finally — whole.
The room scents like their completion. A different Levi, one not deep in the throes of heat, would find it sickening. This Levi, this small, open Levi, who only wants to touch and be touch, love and be loved, luxuriates in this filth. He owns it. It’s proof that there is a person with whom he is so comfortable it does matter. Erwin tucks himself up against the headboard, panting with exertion.
“Your — paperwork,” Levi murmurs, rubbing his face into his side.
Erwin breathes, stares at the ceiling. “Fuck my paperwork,” he says, stretches out his arm so Levi might curl up beside him. What an indulgence. This is — the greatest heat of Levi’s life. This is simply the best.
“Talk to me, Levi,” Erwin whispers. He strokes his knuckles across Levi’s cheek. “I enjoy your conversation.”
Levi will try his best, but he feels all sloppy and dozy, now, and he knows he hasn’t had any good, clever thoughts in awhile.
“How many days do you have left?” Erwin asks him.
“Two, maybe,” Levi tells him, “three, likely.”
“You’ll need some days off after,” Erwin says, “to recover.”
Levi shakes his head. He’s not some house omega, who needs time to rest and recuperate and let the pack pick up the slack. “I am strong,” he says, “I am young.”
Erwin smiles, and shakes his head. “You’ll take some days off to recuperate,” he insists. “It’s my order. Serves no one if you’re too frazzled to think straight.”
Levi watches Erwin’s nose, and his lips. “Will you — will you take them with me?” He asks.
Erwin keeps stroking Levi’s cheek. “If that’s what you want, when the time comes,” he tells him gently.
Levi feels warm inside. Something to look forward to, then. They might — read the newspaper together. Levi will help with the crossword. Levi will clean this room, deeply. Eat apples. Before, after-heats meant achy, filthy, adrenalin-spiked cold-baths, desperately trying to wipe scent off himself, evidence of transgression. There’s hot water here, though.
Levi shivers with happiness. He rolls up, straddles Erwin’s waist, kisses Erwin’s jaw. Then can’t stop himself from licking, his neck and ear and hair and brows, sucking skin beneath his teeth. Erwin stays very still and polite, even when Levi forces him low and brackets his head with his fists, tasting and licking everything back into place until Erwin is covered in Levi’s scent so strong no one could doubt he’s Levi’s.
“Why do you do that?” Erwin asks, voice mild. “Who taught you to do that?”
Taught him? No one taught him. Levi would laugh, if he wasn’t busy. No one teaches you this kind of thing — this is instinct. It’s people like Erwin who teach themselves not to. Their parents teach them not to be feral, because it’s impolite, and wrong, and dirty, probably. No one taught Levi to do this, he just knows it’s the right thing to do. And Erwin needs a good licking, sometimes. He needs to be — made all soft, and nice. Erwin would be less stressed if he had a good omega (Levi) to lick him all the time, and someone (Levi) to sit on his lap during all those long, boring meetings, and if he could take out his post-expedition adrenalin in a warm, willing body (Levi’s). Erwin needs a good omega, and Levi — Levi really is one. He could be the best for Erwin. And one day, maybe, one day…
Levi goes slack-jawed, cross-eyed. Erwin has curled two finger inside him, gently stroking. Levi’s thighs tremble where their split over Erwin’s waist. He forgets what he was doing, anyway.
“I asked you a question,” Erwin says, gently.
“Mmm?” Levi rolls his hips back. Two fingers, he thinks, is not enough.
“Answer, you’ll get three,” Erwin advises.
“Mmm,” Levi sighs, rests his chest against Erwin’s chest, his sensitive swollen nipples all up the hot flat plane of Erwin’s skin, the broad strokes of light brown hair. “Just good to do it. Good,” he says, and licks Erwin collarbones, fondly. “Close to you. Keep you clean, keep you smelling like me, y’know?”
“Keeps me clean?” Erwin smiles, and Levi feels like the best person in the world, to make him smile so wide.
“Well, yeah,” Levi tries to explain. “Like — like — “ he licks his brow, once, and Erwin giggles. It’s a childish sound, carefree. “Don’t you like it?”
“No, I like it,” Erwin urges him. “You may lick me as much as you desire, Captain.”
“You smell good after,” Levi says, earnestly, and licks at his throat, drags a rough sigh from Erwin’s mouth. Erwin does scent all like pleasure, relaxed-sweet-pleasure, and the scent only gets deeper and — and thicker, somehow, the more Levi licks him.
“I smell good after,” Erwin repeats, and fucks his fingers inside, once. Levi whimpers. “I would be lying if I said I do not enjoy having you like this, Levi.”
The fog is coming back in. “And I’m so good for you,” Levi prompts. He digs down on Erwin’s fingers. “I’ve been so good for you.”
“You have,” Erwin says, and he doesn’t smell like he’s lying. “You’ve been quite the novelty, Levi. I — I’m sorry that you’ve never had a person to give you this before. You deserve it, you really do.”
Levi is getting frustrated, breath coming in short pants. It’s not enough. Erwin is generous; he adds a third finger, piled on top of the first two, and they scratch along inside him. Levi wants to throw back his head and howl like a dog.
“In the future, you’ll have this all the time,” Erwin says, and Levi doesn’t understand what he means. “Someone who can give you what you deserve.”
Erwin will. He’ll give Levi everything. This room which scents like both of them, such a sweet scent. When Erwin claims him, Levi will — he’ll wear Erwin’s favour. A pretty ribbon. Levi will have a home, and he’ll give Erwin a home, and their lives will be clean and simple.
“I worry,” Erwin says, and Levi thinks he may be talking more to himself than anyone else. “It frightens me greatly that someone might try to — take advantage of all this, Levi,” Erwin tells him gently, cups the back of his head. “Myself included.”
Levi doesn’t even know what that means. “You should put your fist in me,” he says, smears his cheek into Erwin’s chest. Erwin would put each finger and the fat, wide knuckles of his hand into Levi’s tight swollen hole, and Levi would — would squirm on the end of it, and it would be all he needs, just like a knot. It’s the only thing that might stop the fire inside him, he thinks.
“Ah,” Erwin says, softly. “Should I?”
Levi nods. “Mmf,” he pleads. “No one has to know. No one has to know I — that you did. Just our secret. You — you put it right in me, oh,” Erwin curls his fingers, and Levi is wracked by a shudder. “You’ll — split me — make me so fat — “
“But your poor hole,” Erwin soothes, “I would feel like I was ruining you.”
“You’re thinkin’ — you’re thinkin’ — ‘oh, that Levi, he was born in a brothel, he learnt all kinds of whoreish tricks — “
“That’s not what I’m thinking,” Erwin says evasively. He strokes Levi’s hair off his face, roughly. “That’s never been what I’ve thought, not once.”
“Not even — ah,” Levi huffs. “Not even when you — got me kneeling Below — “
“Not even then. How could anyone think that look at you? You are so — proud. Beautiful.”
Levi comes dry, spasming against Erwin’s fingers. “Sorry,” he croaks, as he trembles, pitching forward. He bites his lip. “Sorry, sorry — “
“What are you apologising for?” Erwin asks, softly. He sits up, takes Levi’s chin in his fingers. “Being beautiful, hmm?”
Erwin kisses him, softly. It’s quite chaste. Levi feels the butterflies again.
Erwin reads over his paperwork and keeps Levi in his lap. Occasionally he will read something aloud and sigh, and absently let Levi suck on his fingers. When Levi starts to squirm, he’ll finger fuck him until he settles, or else just play with his hole, stroke his cock, have him suck his own slick off Erwin’s fingers.
And that night, Levi dreams Erwin gifts him a ribbon, and ties it around his neck, and invites him to the ball. Levi doesn’t know what ball, he just knows there is one. Levi is wearing the finest clothes, a new tight leather vest in the omegan fashion, and a creamy shirt, and soft velvet pants. He’s clean and pretty. Erwin tells him he’s the most beautiful one there. He kisses him so softly, and Levi feels the butterflies. Or the moths. Or whatever. Erwin puts him on the floor and makes love to him there, and everyone knows Levi is the most beautiful, the most desired, that he belongs to Erwin alone —
Levi awakes again, in the dark. The fire is back.
He knocks his head against Erwin’s shoulder, insistently. “Erwin,” he whispers, apologetically. The warmth is getting all tangled in his belly. His skin is like prickling fire. “Erwin,” he repeats, more urgently.
“Mmm,” Erwin frowns again, eyes still shut. “What’s it?”
“I’m sorry,” Levi whispers, cheeks burning, “I need it again.”
Erwin yawns and stretches. “Alright, little one,” he says, blearily. He slaps Levi’s ass, urges him to turn onto his front, slips in. He fucks him like that, Levi arching like a cat and moaning like a slut, toes curling, thanking him. He’s sorry to disturb him so early, he really is, but it hurts today, it’s so hot inside him today, he needs it right now. “Oh, thank you,” he’s groaning, the headboard slamming into the wall, Erwin’s hips clapping against his ass, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Mmm,” Erwin says, sleepily, hands roaming up Levi’s back. “Good boy, good little thing, that’s it, sweetheart.”
“You gonna — “ Levi prises his teeth out the pillow, “you g’nna knot me, Erwin?”
“No, sweetheart,” Erwin grunts, as Levi squirms on the end of him. “I couldn’t, even if you really wanted it.”
But it would be so good to be filled, Levi thinks, feverishly. He tries not to take it personal. “Erwin,” he moans instead. “Thank you! Thank you! Tha - tha - thank — “
He comes, sharp and quick, spills out into the sheets. Erwin pulls out, still hard, gripping himself in hand while Levi curls up in his own mess, head pillow on his arms and shivering. He hears Erwin prepare himself for the day. Levi can’t even move. “Erwin,” he croaks.
“Levi,” Erwin calls.
“Don’t go, today.” Levi couldn’t take it, he really couldn’t. His skin is like itching fire. The end of a brush wouldn’t be enough. His fist wouldn’t be enough. He needs Erwin’s skin, his body. He wants to be covered again — he wants Erwin to pin him down again and make him take the way he did last night, the most peace Levi’s ever felt in his life.
Erwin’s hand is heavy on Levi’s brow. “I have to,” he says.
Well, Levi knows that this is an inconvenience to him, and that Erwin must have important business, but it’s burning him. “Let me come with you,” Levi says. “I won’t be any trouble. I’ll keep out the way — “
“Levi,” Erwin winces. “It’s not a matter of keeping out the way. In fact — if they see you. You wouldn’t want them to see you, Levi. I know it seems that way now, but — in a few days, you’ll be the Captain again. And you won’t want them all to have seen you like this.”
Like this? Levi is… he loses the thought.
“ … dangerous,” Erwin is continuing. “Like setting a lamb among wolves.”
“I’m not a lamb,” Levi rasps.
“No,” Erwin agrees, “but you’re no wolf, either,” he says, and kisses Levi’s brow.
But the ache today is… it’s something fierce. Levi paces, and then cannot pace at all. He tries to cloak himself in Erwin’s scent. He tries the pomade, the cologne, the clothes. He drapes himself in Erwin’s shirt, buttons popped and scenting like the two of them, together, the best scent. But it’s not enough. Nothing’s enough, now. It’s burning beneath his skin. Erwin could have stayed, but he would not stay. But he has business. But Levi is so hot. He’s so hot. He’s so — warm all over. He watches soldiers from the window, damp with condensed air. He watches his breath fog. He tries to spot Erwin, walking about his business. He burns, and scratches at himself, and scratches, and scratches. Shit. He’s — he —
Slips on his pants, from days ago, can’t locate his undergarments. He has no socks and his feet are so sweaty he struggles to get them into his boots. He has barely eaten. You do not eat in a heat, you have little appetite, but you are only supposed to lie in bed, be pinned in place. Levi is not pinned anywhere. Levi is unmoored. Levi is — aching. Levi might cry, if Erwin does not hold him soon. He might shake apart in this bed like a stupid idiot, like a weak, pathetic thing.
He splashes his face with cold water before he leaves, smoothes down his hair. Erwin had said not to leave, but he had not ordered it, not really. He had told Levi, he should wear this shirt, and only this shirt, so Levi hopes he will not be upset to see Levi wearing pants and boots, too. It is only a short walk to Erwin’s office. It is barely any walk, at all.
He leaves the officer’s quarters for the first time in days. Outside, the sunlight is too bright, the air bracing — it must be freezing, but Levi does not feel it. He is not wearing a coat. He stares at his boots, then out at the quad. He turns his head. Three recruits stare at him, open-mouth. Levi glares. They say nothing.
He sets out, feet sloppy and slow, for the main building. Most of the soldiers are at the field, but those on internal duty Levi pays no mind. “Captain,” one of them says to him, “Captain, Captain, would you like to sit down?”
Levi ignores them. He heads up the stares, takes them one at a time, smears his sweat off his brow. He is following Erwin’s scent. He already feels better, see. He already feels almost well again, and the itching is bearable for now. He limps down the hallway and — he hears Erwin’s voice! He should have prepared words. I’m sorry for leaving, asshole, he might spit, but you shouldn’t have left me. It’s burning me. I’m going to sit here, and I won’t be any trouble. Or Levi should demand. Come back with me, he might order. Does he have the authority to do that? Would Erwin listen?
“… my concern,” Erwin is saying. “Levi is better off without.”
“He said that?” Someone replies. Hange, maybe. Levi stands outside the oak doors. He lays his palms to the wood. They’re damp enough to leave wet smudges.
“Well, no,” Erwin seems to admit. “Not in as many words. He wouldn’t know, at this moment.”
“Cut him some slack.”
“Slack is cut,” Erwin says, earnestly. “I did not mean that cruelly. Why do I — often say one thing, and have it come out so…” Erwin sighs, frustrated with himself. Levi wants to pet him. He will pet the frustration away. No no, he wants to tell him, I always understand you meaning.
“So,” Hange continues, “when this is over — “
“When this is over,” Erwin interrupts, “I don’t know. I fear he has become — “
“Become?”
“Confused.”
Confused? Is Levi confused, about something? He presses his ear to the door.
“He’s not often confused,” Hange counters.
“I fear — something has gotten lost, between us. A miscommunication.”
“Of?”
“Of my intentions. Of his his.”
Levi feels mildly ill.
“What are your intentions?”
“What were they? To take my Captain through his heat. I brought him here. My duty, of course. And I will always do my duty.”
Duty is a burden, Levi knows. You might do you duty willingly, but you are conscripted to it by a higher purpose.
“What an arduous duty it is, huh?” Hangs says dryly.
“Well, yes,” Erwin says, and Levi feels his stomach fall out of him, or split open. He is so hot, but now he feels sick, and clammy. He feels he is — there’s no word for this feeling, butterflies getting crushed underfoot. “It is hard, as you might imagine. I don’t need to explain why.”
“Of course,” Hange says, “that would involve using your words which, famously, you hate doing.”
“Truthfully,” Erwin says, and his voice is strained, “truthfully, Hange, he is — infatuated.”
“Infatuated?” Hange repeats.
Infatuated, Levi thinks, numbly, feels both hot and cold all over, with a pit in his stomach.
“It is as if — I have given him… some affection. And… yes. Well.”
Levi is — infatuated. He has imagined some great… well he didn’t mean — he hasn’t thought about it. He only thought, Erwin has been treating him — kindly, yes, he has been kind, but also, he called him beautiful. Surely that is a thing you — you would not just…
Well Erwin might. Erwin might call any and all omegas beautiful, because he is a good, polite man, who wants to do his duty well. Levi has misunderstood. Hideously, humiliatingly, Levi has misunderstood. Misread. He has simply misread. Erwin is right, he has given Levi some affection, and Levi has — no one has given Levi such affection before. He thought he was special. That is is all. He imagined that he might be special, or different, somehow. Oh, it makes good sense now — it seems right to him. Levi was never a desirable omega. He was never going to get a — what was it he wanted, he can barely recall, a ribbon? A piece of fabric? Walking — walking through the town, well of course Erwin would not hold his hand. Levi is a Captain, and besides he is just an — ugly, short little thing. All hard and scabbed and scarred. And filthy, beside. A rot deep inside him, he knows. And Erwin was being polite. He would say, ‘ah yes Levi, you smell like clean linen’, and probably — laughed about it, after, and congratulated himself on picking the best thing. Erwin would have — could have any omega in these walls, it’s true, so why would he… well it’s actually quite funny, it’s actually funny, Levi might laugh about it someday, he really might, but for now, right now —
There’s a hard lump inside him. Or else a great yawning gap. He is suddenly sharpened by adrenaline, or panic, or something like — it’s just shame, a deep and burning shame. How foolish he is. How fucking stupid. All it took was — what, two days, three, of getting fucked good and he thought — he imagined —
He finds his way to his quarters, hastily strips into some civvies, covers himself in his winter cloak. His fingers are fumbling. He puts a knife on his hip. It’s just shame, thick and clawing. There are no words for it. The butterflies are not just crushed, they are having their wings plucked off, one by one. Erwin was right; Levi is proud. He’s always been too proud for what he is, a whoreson, a rotting, stinking slab of flesh. What had Levi thought? What had he thought?! That — Commander Erwin Smith would court some whore’s whelp from the Underground? What was Levi… no, Levi was not thinking. No thoughts at all, swept up in the heat.
Levi heads for the stables, and he feels like a fool. He feels like the thickest, shittiest fool there ever was. Erwin will give me a ribbon, he had thought. That he and Erwin would — that they were — what a pathetic, stupid boy he was. Imprinting on the first alpha to show him anything like kindness. Stupid fucking pathetic rotting piece of shit. No good. No damn good. How fucking humiliating. His hands are shaking. He tries to tack up a horse. He brushes sweat out of his eyes. He needs to go now, because if he has to return to their room, and meet Erwin’s eyes, he will embarrass himself. He should relieve Erwin of his duty. Free him from this burden.
The stable doors open so softly, just wood sliding on straw. The person there doesn’t say anything, immediately. Levi smells him, though. He shudders, pulls on the tack. “Leave me alone,” he croaks, stupidly. He’s aware it’s childish, and plaintive.
“Levi,” Trant says, softly. “What’s the matter? You shouldn’t be out here. It’s dangerous, even with all these good fine men of the Corps.”
“Captain,” Levi tells him, shortly. His head feels like it’s full of dirt. The horse agitates. “Captain Levi, to you.”
He senses Trant bristling, behind him. “Captain, then,” Trant tries again. “Where are you going?”
“Away,” Levi tells him, brusquely.
“To where?”
“On business. That’ll be all, Officer.” Levi pulls up the hood of his cloak, hopes it hides the worst of his flush.
“Who’s business?” Trent asks.
Levi shuts his eyes, resists the urge to lean his heavy head against the horse’s neck. “Confidential,” he grunts.
“The Commander’s business?” Trant suggests. “Come on, now, Levi,” he says. “The Commander wouldn’t send you out like this, would he? You’re all…” and there’s a long silence where Trant searches for the right word. “Hot,” he settles for.
Levi shudders. Where is he going? Once he gets on this horse, where will he let him take him? Will he — rent some room, somewhere? This is desertion. Will he go below, and let other men touch him, infect him with their rot? No. No, he will — he will seek out omegas. He will go to a pleasure house, and seek out omegas, soft and warm and safe. Other heating bitches, like himself, and they will all take each other through. And if anyone comes to question what Captain Levi of the Corps is doing in a brothel, why Humanity’s Strongest is sucking and fucking with other two-bit whores, Levi will just tell them — he will just tell them it’s his fucking birthright, and he is a foul, sick, twisted little creature, stunted and plain and rotten inside, and — and no-good, infatuated and pathetic, greedy and grasping, for things people like him should never get to have.
“It’s — private business,” Levi says, and curls his fist in his reins. He realises he cannot mount. His legs are too weak, his arms will not pull him. He can do it, but only if he jumps and rolls, ungainly, onto the saddle. Levi grits his teeth, waits for Trant to pass.
“Private business,” Trant repeats, lightly. “Well, how private can it be, really? I can smell your business. I’ve smelt it all week, everywhere, all over him. We’ve all smelt it. We can smell it right now,” and the back of Levi’s neck prickles; he hears lightly footsteps, over the straw, gravel. His horse agitates. There are — by his count — four, maybe five of them. Levi’s head is filled with straw. He shuts his eyes, grips the tack.
“We’ve all smelt it,” Trant continues. “The Commander — he’s been boasting. Not with his words. But he’s been strutting about, putting us in our place. I haven’t touched an O since Maria. None of us have. They’re hoarding you all in the Interior. Except you,” Trant says, earnestly. “Levi. We all smell you. You’re our Captain, aren’t you? You belong to the Corps.”
“You are Corpsmen,” he says, quietly. His words sound lighter than they should — his throat is burning, and his lungs won’t fill with air. He wants to be in bed. He needs to be in bed. More than anything, he wants to be back in bed, but all of that only scents like — humiliation, and pain, and fear, now. “It’s a crime, to lay your hand — “
“On a claimed bitch, but you ain’t claimed,” someone else says, voice rough. One of Trant’s men, then. He’s not wrong. Levi isn’t claimed. There’s no alpha to advocate on his behalf in a court. There are no internal processes for what happens when an omega is raped on military grounds because there are not supposed to be omegas in the military. And even if there were — Levi is in heat. Who would blame them? Who could. If they had broken into his chambers, that would be an offence. They would be stealing. But Levi is out in the open, practically begging for it. And where were you going? He can hear an MP asking. A brothel? They would laugh. It would seem they’ve done you a favour.
Levi turns. He slips one hand beneath his hood and covers his nape. The other he draws to the knife on his hip. “Don’t,” he orders, and their figures are doubling, blurring. Levi is swaying on his feet. Trant, and — Michail, he thinks, and Tobias, and then two younger ones, new ones Levi hasn’t learned the names of, green and twitching with barely concealed desperation. They’re transfers from the MPs — sent here as punishment, for some kind of violation. They wouldn’t have been hard to convince, Levi thinks. Trant is right. There are no omegas. They’ll be itching to get their tips wet.
“Don’t,” Trant repeats, softly. “You don’t mean that, Levi, sweetheart. Come on, now,” Trant steps forward. “You’re going to raise a blade to us? Five honest men? Hard-working men? We go out there, we put our neck’s on the line again and again, and now we want a bit of reward and you think you’ll stab us for it? Don’t be so selfish. We’re a pack, aren’t we? Aren’t we? It’s not fair that he keeps you all to himself. Take your hand off your knife, sweetheart,” Trant tells him, gently, “and make it good for us, and we’ll treat you so — “
Levi draws it out, holds it extended, a warning. He grips his own nape, digs his nails into the skin and lets the pain spark him. “Use your fuckin’ heads,” Levi spits. “Do you know who you’re dealing with?” Sweat drips off his hair. “How do you think this ends? I’m your Captain. This is a mutiny — “
“That’s right,” Trant says, “you’re our Captain. That’s not right, in our books. So, we’re going to put you in your place. And afterwards, you can thank us — “
Levi lunges. He doesn’t aim to cut; he slices through the tack holding his horse in place, slaps it’s flank and sends it careening forward, barrelling through the soldiers and sending them scattering. Levi is weak on his feet, and he has one knife, and he must protect his nape, but there are other soldiers — good soldiers, better soldiers. Hange, or Moblit, or Mike, or — or —
“Stupid little bitch,” Trant spits, grips the ends of Levi’s cloak and pulls. Levi only just has the strength not to be knocked off-balance; he swings low, aims for Trant’s thigh, and then someone kicks him, and Levi might have blocked it but someone else has barrelled him and it takes three of them at once to hold him down on the ground, arm outstretched and pinned, trying to prise his fingers off the knife. It takes all of them, Levi tells himself, as a small comfort. It takes five of them, and Levi’s in heat, but it’s only a small, small comfort. “Let go of the knife,” Trant is warning. “Let go of the knife, Levi. You’re making this more difficult that it has to be. We don’t want to have to hurt you, now. Levi,” Trant orders. Levi hates his name. He hates it in Trant’s mouth. “Let go of the knife,” he repeats. He leverages his foot over Levi’s knuckles and presses. “I’ll break it,” he warns. “You don’t need hands. We’ll break each finger and each toe.” He presses warningly; the pain spikes, the bones shift. Levi’s a pragmatist. He releases the knife.
One of them — Michail, maybe, they’re blurring and Levi is so hot — waves the blade in his face. “I’ll bet you think you’re pretty,” he tells Levi. “Would you be so pretty if we played some with your face, hmm?” He taps it against Levi’s cheek, and Levi doesn’t even twitch. “If we cut those pretty lips, that pretty little nose — “
“Freak,” one of the others replies. “What kind of creep are you? Get that out of here,” he says, roughly, taking the knife. He grips Levi’s jaw. “It isn’t his fault. We’re going to show you a good time, Captain — “
“Get your hands off,” Trant interrupts, “he’s mine first.”
“He ours all,” someone reminds him.
“Yeah, yeah, he’s all of ours, but he’s mine first,” Trant repeats. “Let’s see what he’s hiding underneath those clothes, hmm?”
Their hands hold him in a way which is sickly, and all at once good, too. Levi’s skin is itching and the only way to stop it is if other people scratch for him. His head’s growing all cloudy again. Why did he come here? What for? The sting of rejection, he thinks. It hurts worse than anything. They rip open Erwin’s shirt, laugh at him. Levi shivers, shuts his eyes. “Pretty little teats,” they leer. They say, turn him over. It’s his chance. It’s his chance to —
Someone clamps their hand on the back of Levi’s neck. He’s boneless. They stroke. Levi curls his swollen fingers into fists by his head. His hips lift, humiliatingly, of their own accord. They laugh some more. “Eager,” someone says. Levi can smell himself. He can smell all of them, too. They smell hard, and rutting. Levi’s been here before. It’s alright. He’ll just shut his eyes, this time. His body wants it. His body needs it. And he’s not getting it from Erwin. It’s better this way, probably.
“I’d like some damn privacy,” Trant says. “Over there.”
They drag Levi to the pile of straw in the corner. They’ve shut the doors to the barn. Levi hears them lock them, slide the heavy wooden plank into place across the doors. They’re sitting on the fences and patting the horses like this is a grand old time, laughing. “You stink like him,” Trant grins, “disgusting,” he says.
Levi watches him from sullen, heavy-lidded eyes. The nape paralysis will take more time to wear off.
“I want you to scream,” Trant is muttering, urgently, pulling himself out. “I want you to beg for help. Go on. Say it. Say, help, help, please, someone help me.”
Levi remains silent. It’s no great thing. It’s just cock. Trant will only be the second alpha he’s ever had inside him. Michail is likely to be the third. Tobias the fourth. The green recruits from the MPs fifth and sixth, and then they all might take turns again. After, when all is said and done, Levi will kill them, of course. They’ve all signed their own death-warrants. If they were smart, they would smother him or slit his throat while they have the chance, but they won’t, because they do believe Levi wants this in their own, twisted way. They think they’re doing him a favour, or at the very least, no great disservice. Levi’s an omega in heat. He’s just a wet cunt. This is his purpose, probably.
“You arrogant little prick,” Trant is muttering, working himself. “You fucking arrogant little bitch. Not so arrogant now, are you? Would it kill you to show a little something? Stoic, aren’t you, Levi?” Trant raises his hand, strikes him across the cheek. It cuts his lip. “Not even a tear. Not even a whimper.”
Trant knows, then. He would like Levi to cry, well, then Levi will be nothing but ice. He feels sick, and hot, and desperate. His hole is loose and aching for it. Levi has given sweet and kind and got nothing in return for it, he won’t waste it on alpha who are worth half what Erwin is.
Trant holds Levi’s thighs open. Dirty filthy grubby. There’s rot all over Levi, rot in him. The straw stinks like horse shit. He’s the filthiest there is, really. If he goes easy about it, they might let down their guards. Levi should’ve done that from the start. He should’ve given them what they wanted, pretended he wanted it too, and he could have escaped. Pride, see, he had pride. Why? Stupid. Doesn’t matter. Do what Mama used to do, just shut your eyes. Levi got through the Underground, and he got taken Above, and now this happens. Scum all over. Doesn’t matter.
Levi watches the rafters, listens to the horses. “Don’t knot me,” he mutters.
Trant strikes him again. “You’ll take what I give you,” he grunts, “and you’ll take it gladly. And if we put a baby in you, you’ll thank us for the nine months off-duty.” Trant’s fingers move to Levi’s pants.
The doors rattle. “Hey!” Someone says, knocking on the wood. “Hey! There’s a damn horse out here!”
Trant’s eyes widen. Levi rocks forward, slams his fist into Trant’s head, knocking him to the side. He sucks in his deepest breath. “Help!” He screams, roars it. “Help!”
The men are scrambling. Trant grips Levi’s nape and digs his nails in something fierce, drags Levi up by the skin and it’s one of the most painful things you can do but Levi can’t do anything except hang there like a scruffed kitten. Trant rattles him, releases him, and Levi whites out from the pain, curled where he’s thrown on the straw, and remarkably, somehow, un-fucked.
They might fight for a while, panicked, while the doors rattle. There’s a commotion now. It smells so much like alpha that Levi’s slicking in his pants, it’s sick. Erwin, he thinks, stupidly. It’s a stupid thing to think. Levi doesn’t have many good scents to hold onto. It’s sad to pretend, but he burrows his nose into the collar of the shirt, shivers and breathes and feels like he’s turning to dust.
“We caught him trying to desert,” one of them says.
“We caught him trying to leave, even though he’s sick,” another lies.
“He asked for it,” Trant declares. “He begged for it.”
“Caught him tryin’ to desert,” the voice replies, all thick, “so you figured you’d put a cock in him? Or maybe you figured, he’s sick, so you’ll hold him down in filth, see if that makes him better.”
“He’s in heat,” Trant scoffs. “He wanted it twice as much as we — “
A body hits wood. The room smells like Fight, bristle and sharp. Levi knows, to the victor goes the spoils, but he cannot move his limbs, not at all.
“Shut up, Trant,” Mike says, shortly. “You, and you. You two. Report to the Commander.”
“Mike,” Mikhail tries. Levi thinks Mike and Mikhail were friendly enough, before this. They would go drinking together sometimes — they’re both farm boys. “He’ll kill us. We didn’t do anything wrong — “
“Then he won’t kill you, will he? He’ll get a good sniff of you, will know right away whether you’ve been crawling over him and his. Go on,” Mike tells them. “Or desert. Punishment’s only death.”
“What about me?” Trant asks.
“What about you?” Mike grunts. “You ain’t mine to see to. He ain’t my boy. That’s the alpha’s business.”
“You fucking hick. Where’s your fucking — solidarity — “
“Lay a hand on me, it becomes my business, Trant. I’ll rip your head off your shoulders,” Mike says, and means it. The stable is quite quiet, then. The horses shuffle, as if apologising sheepishly for their inaction. Mike stables the horse before he sees to Levi, which is fine. That’s good, Levi thinks, that means — it isn’t urgent. Mike isn’t rushing to take him. Levi’s limbs start to twitch as feeling comes back into them. Mike is busying himself with the horses, still. Eventually, Levi is able to sit up, head heavy, dizzy. His ears feel packed with wool. He smells like horse shit, and alpha fight, and stress, and rape. Levi knows the scent. He grew up with it.
The light from the slats in the ceiling casts the dust in sharp clarity. “You want a turn?” Levi croaks, but it’s more a whisper.
Mike steps forward. Levi stares at his boots. “You alright?” He asks, shortly.
“Yeah,” Levi whispers, vacantly.
“Alright.” Mike holds out his hand. Achingly, Levi lifts his arm, claps Mike’s hand. Mike wraps him in his cloak, lifts him and throws him over his shoulder, covers Levi’s head with the hood. It is perfectly clinical. Mike scents like — Mike. It’s good and alpha. He holds Levi across his waist, carries him up the officers stairs. Levi knows where they’re going. He might say don’t. Where should he ask to go instead? Hey, Mike, you mind escorting me to the first brothel we find? Mike knocks down the door to Erwin’s chambers. He throws Levi on the bed.
“Stay there,” Mike says, like Levi has a choice.
He holds out Levi’s knife. Levi takes it. He loudly drags the chair from Erwin’s desk to the door, sits with his arms folded, head bowed, and then he might as well be dead for all the noise he makes. Levi stares at him. He holds his knife, slips it beneath one of the pillows. Levi stinks like other alphas. He’s brought that into this bed, which he only left an hour ago, and back then he was so — he thought it was the only scent he would ever need again, that it was the scent of home, now. He feels rather numb, now. His head is heavy. He might feel like twice the fool, having let a man like Trant touch him. He does not know how he will bear to meet Erwin’s eyes.
He just ask him if he might leave. Go back to his rooms. The others will know soon that Levi was bent over by his soldiers. It will rip through the camp. Levi knows all this. But yes. He just feels very tired, and very nothing, at all. He realises he’s been crying, but Levi rarely cries, and when he does, he does it quietly, and without knowing. He brushes his eyes, too tired to even bury himself beneath the sheets. It is cold, now. He must sleep.
When he wakes, someone has covered him with a blanket, but he cannot have slept for long because it is still light outside. There is a thumping. It is vibrations which have woken Levi. He lifts his head, blearily, rubs at his eye with his good hand.
Mike is still sitting by the door. He lifts his head, too. Frowns at Levi. The thumping moves down the hall. Levi mind if slow to understand. The thumping bangs on their door. Mike tries to stand. Erwin gets there first.
He wraps his fists in Mike’s shirt, pulls him up in a fury, in — fightfightfight. Erwin has blood on his face, and specks of it in his hair. His shirt is ripped. He has lost his coat.
“You going to put your hands on him?!” Erwin roars, slams Mike back-first into the wall. Mike does not answer, does not raise a hand in protest, but this only seems to make Erwin more angry, build his fury in him like bricks. “You put your fuckin’ hands on him? You touch him? Put him in bed, get him beneath you — “
“Nah,” Mike says, levelly, as Erwin holds him to the wall. “I caught Trant between his thighs.”
Erwin pulls back his fist, strikes Mike across the cheek. Mike spits blood.
“Liar!” Erwin roars. “You — sat here, watching him? Got your eyes all over him?” Erwin lays his forearm across Mike’s windpipe and twists his head over his shoulder. “Levi,” he says, very suddenly gentle, “are you alright, sweetheart?”
Levi nods, numbly.
“Good,” Erwin is nodding, “good,” his head drifts back to Mike, “good,” he repeats, unhinged. He rattles Mike against the wall. “You put a filthy hand on him, without him knowing it, hmm? You laugh at him?”
Mike shakes his head. He lifts his palms to his shoulders, as submissive as an alpha Mike’s size can be. “Yours,” he says. “Just — doin’ you a favour, Ervy.” His nose is bleeding, sluggishly.
“Trant?” Erwin demands.
“Sent him on his way. If he deserts, you get to kill’im. If not… expedition coming up. He can take the right flank.”
Levi can only see Erwin’s shoulders heaving. He has gotten better at reading the back of his head, recently. “I’m going to kill him,” Erwin declares.
Mike nods. “Alright,” he says, and then inclines his head over Erwin’s shoulder. “But I reckon you got other responsibilities, first,” he tells him.
Erwin shakes him. Mike’s head knocks against the wall, and he winces. “You think you get to tell me what to do?”
“I think, this one went wonderin’, and I found him with a horse tacked and ready to run. Should I have let him?”
Erwin doesn’t seem to know what to say.
“Exactly,” Mike says, patiently, and dares to lay a hand over Erwin’s, prise it off his shirt. Mike buffs his bloody nose. “I’ll see to Trant, for now. Make sure he stays in one place. Or maybe he’s already run. I can hunt if down, if you like.”
Erwin draws back. “If he’s run, find him,” he orders. “Bring him to me, first. If he hasn’t run… do nothing. Leave him be, for now.”
Mike seems unnerved. “You don’t want him in a cell?”
“No,” Erwin says. He stumbles back. “I’m sorry for your — “
“It’s alright. You could’ve done worse.”
“Thank you, for — “
“Yeah. Not for your sake, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Erwin agrees.
“What about the others? Mikhail, the rest?”
Erwin looks over his shoulder, out the windows. “Oh,” he says, absently, and stares at his palms. “I left them outside.”
Levi slips off the bed and drifts to the window. The sky is starting to darken. In the courtyard, there are four bodies. Are they dead? Levi doesn’t know whether to ask. He’s not sure if he cares enough, to be honest.
“Levi,” Mike says. “You want to stay?”
Levi nods. He has nowhere else to go, anyway. He doesn’t know what to think. The spiky adrenalin has shook him of the strange heat fugue, survival instinct. Like that time Below, with all their hands. “Thanks, Mike,” Levi croaks, still staring out the window. He can’t quite tear his eyes away from the bodies. The men.
When he turns back, Erwin is frantically trying to scrub blood off his face, as if he thinks he might hide it. “I did not mean,” Erwin blurts, “to — to hurt Mike. I did not mean it. And — “ he adds quickly, cautiously, “I will not hurt you. I have no intention. You must not fear me. But — but if you do, I would understand. I would — call Hange. I would have them watch you instead. Would you prefer that, Levi?”
Levi shakes his head. Erwin is visibly relieved.
“Good,” he says, “good. You — you must have been so… it must have felt so…”
Levi grips his bad hand. “It was nothing,” he says, quietly. “It just was.”
“No, Levi,” Erwin insists, but does not close the gap between them. “It would have been terrifying. You do not need to pretend otherwise, my friend.”
Are they friends again? “It’s fine,” Levi says. “It happens, sometimes. You get used to it.”
“It should not happen here,” Erwin declares, “in the headquarters of the Survey Corps.”
“Why shouldn’t it?” Levi asks, quietly. “What makes you so special?”
Erwin doesn’t seem to have an answer.
“You’re all alpha, ain’t you? All the same to me.” Levi limps across the floor, stiff, sits back on the bed. He doesn’t want Erwin to keep a distance, but he is still so ashamed of himself, he can barely meet his eyes.
“Your hand,” Erwin offers. “I could see to it, for you.”
Levi nods, silently.
Erwin fetches some salve and bandage. There isn’t much to see to. It isn’t broken. Erwin sits cross-legged on the bed and hunched over, holds Levi’s palm on his knee. Erwin’s hands are much larger than Levi’s. Longer fingers. Erwin could throttle him with one hand if he wanted, but Levi is reassured that there is no part of him that fears that.
“It happened before, once,” Levi tells Erwin, into the quiet. “When I was younger.”
Erwin lifts his chin. “I’m very sorry that happened to you, Levi,” and stupidly, Levi thinks he imagines Erwin sounds like he might cry.
“I got lucky then. Got helped out. Not my fault,” Levi sniffs. “Even Ke — even the guy that helped me, he said, yeah. Not much I could’ve done about it. Nature makes us with fuckin’ — brands on the back of our necks, what am I supposed to do about it?”
“Like titans,” Erwin says.
“Stupid as a titan,” Levi mutters. “I heard you,” he admits. He clears his throat. “That’s why I made off, like a fool. I wasn’t thinkin’. Sorry.”
Erwin lightly brushes his thumb over Levi’s swollen knuckles, distracted. “Bastard,” he mutters. “He didn’t have to do this.”
“He did,” Levi says. “I had a knife. Would’ve slit him. I said, I heard you. What you said, before. To Hange.”
Erwin lifts his eyes, frowns. “Heard what?”
Levi sniffs, looks back down at his hand. He pulls it from Erwin’s grip, holds it against his stomach. “About — “ Levi can barely bring himself to say the word, it’s so humiliating, “ — my infatuation,” he gets out, then meets Erwin’s eyes.
“Oh,” Erwin says, still confused. “I see.”
Levi rubs his nose. “I realise,” he says, “that this is your — duty. And you have performed it admirably, Commander.”
Erwin nods. “It is important to me,” he says, earnestly.
“I can relieve you of it,” Levi mutters, and shuts his eyes. “You can — leave me be, now. You don’t have to, anymore.”
There’s a silence. Erwin scents like — well, he scents rather strange. He scents hurt, like a wounded stag.
“You — tried to leave,” Erwin says, stiffly. “My apologies. Have I — did I misunderstand?”
“Misunderstand?” Levi head is foggy.
“You… do not want me,” Erwin says, like he is realising. “I have — forced myself upon you.”
Levi recoils. “Nah, no, Erwin. This ain’t about you. I — I want you. I want you so bad, it hurts my teeth.”
Erwin’s stares. “Your teeth?”
Levi doesn’t know how else to say it. “You get me all rattled,” he says, and presses a hand to his chest. “Flutterin’, like.”
“Flutters?”
“You said to Hange — you told me, before, this is — your duty,” Levi impresses, slowly. “Your job.”
“Well, yes,” Erwin agrees. “Of course.”
“And I, I am… perhaps this is — is not just duty to me, Commander. Like you say, I am — I have been — “
Erwin opens his mouth, like he is understanding. “It will pass, Levi.”
“Pass?”
Erwin cups his cheek, gently. “Yes,” he tells him, comfortingly. “This thing you think you feel. I have been selfish, I’ll admit. I’ve taken advantage of it, perhaps there have been times I have let my personal feelings cloud judgement — “
“Your personal feelins’?”
“But you are — you are your own person,” Erwin says, stoutly, with resolve. “And I have done my duty, and I hope I have not — taken advantage of you, Levi. I hope very dearly that I am not a Trant, in your mind, or a — “
“But you said — to Hange. You said, I am infatuated — “
“For now,” Erwin says, gently. “You won’t be, soon. This will fade, Levi. And then, I will be left with… I’ll be left. And you won’t be mine anymore. So, I say to myself, I had best not get comfortable with the idea.” And then Erwin laughs, weakly, for Levi’s benefit, but it sounds sad.
“I want to be yours,” Levi croaks. “It doesn’t have to be love. I ain’t infatuated. I just never been in a pack, or I mean, I haven’t had a home since they died.”
“Levi,” Erwin says, softly.
Levi looks down. “Alright,” he whispers. He understands.
“I’m happy to be your home, sweetheart,” Erwin says instead, earnestly. “You are — you would be the sweetest home, for me. But in a few days, this will fade,” Erwin tells him, gently. He cups Erwin’s cheek, strokes the sweat of Levi’s brow. “I know right now it must seem like — the most desperate thing in you, darling. But I know Levi, hmm? I know my Levi, my Captain. And this — this is pretend, isn’t it? These things I say. You only want to hear them now because you’re… you’re not yourself. And one day soon you’ll wake up and it will be cold. And you’ll remember exactly who you are and what you want. And I won’t be a part of it, Levi.”
Levi blinks sweat from his eyes. “No,” he insists, palms on Erwin’s chest, “no, it’s not like that.”
Erwin pulls on the tie around his neck, the thin cord and thick stone, inlaid in metal in the centre. He takes it off his head and settles it over Levi’s, instead, straightens it nice and neat, tightens it a little. It’s warm with Erwin’s flesh. Levi thumbs it, feels it’s weight in his fingers.
“There,” Erwin says, quietly. “That’s for you. A gift.”
“Not to keep,” Levi clarifies.
“No,” Erwin says, “not to keep, I suppose. I suppose, you will want to take it off, soon enough. You will get quite tired of it, because you are stubborn, and proud. You will think, ‘I no longer want to wear this ugly old thing’, and you will throw it off, or maybe find something better to wear, as is your right.”
Levi cups it in his palm. “But I can wear it for now,” he says. “It can be gift for now.”
“It can be a gift for as long as you would like it to be.”
It’s blooming inside him again. “I can be with you, now,” Levi clarifies. “I can come with you, when you work. Just while I’m still — I get sick, alone.”
“No, you won’t leave my side, I promise,” Erwin tells him. “In fact, I mean to say — I will not leave your side, Levi. You don’t have to leave here. It’s good here, isn’t it? This bed, which smells like home.”
“Smells like home,” Levi repeats, quietly. The stone is warm in his hand. Erwin lies down in the bed, and scents like other men’s fear. It’s a good scent. Erwin kisses his knuckles, again. He apologises, and apologises some more. He says nice words, and kind things. It is good. There is a moth, fluttering against the lamp.