Chapter Text
Levi has been a soldier long enough to know that if things are due to happen, they’ll either happen immediately or when you least expect them to, having lowered your guard and forgotten all about the possibility. This is the law of most damage, a law that governs Levi’s life within the Survey Corps, chased him since birth until the impending misfortune gives him comfort, not anxiety.
It’s Eren’s first night at the headquarters so naturally things happen.
Levi’s awake, frowning at the dust flittering before his eyes and cursing the idiot for not cleaning up properly when there’s a knock, Gunther, who had the first shift watching over the nuisance. He lingers by the door, sweating through his white shirt.
“Captain,” he says solemnly, and Levi shoves his hair back, sighs and pulls up his boots. He doesn’t need to hear more.
❧
This late at night most titans are inactive. Eren isn’t most titans so Levi doesn’t know what to brace for, following Gunther downstairs. A titan trapped in the basement might have solicited a more urgent response but Gunther isn’t panicked, embarrassed, maybe, deeply, but not afraid.
“What is it?” Levi asks since Gunther doesn’t seem keen on briefing him. He gets his reply the moment the heavy door leading to the basement drags open, releasing a thick stench that’s almost physical in its intensity.
Levi gags, recoiling, and covers his nose. “Did he die down there?”
“No, but he sure sounds like it,” Gunther responds, used to the foul smell, judging by his lack of reaction, but unused to the howling echoing up the brick walls, sharp and high-pitched, unmistakably Eren. He’s crying and not in a miss-home kind of way, over dead friends or vivid nightmares, things Levi is practiced in ignoring, training new recruits. Pure, animal wailing, like a creature with its leg caught in a trap that knows it’s going to die and argues god otherwise.
“Is he...” Titan? Levi thinks to ask before the initial odor subsides, leaving behind something sweet and cloying, a scent he can’t quite place though it’s Eren at its core, his edged, awkward way of relating, forceful in its familiarity, making you adore him. The same migraine-inducing fruitiness that Levi dealt with all morning, now changed, evolved.
Levi doesn’t need his pants to tighten to know Eren’s presenting. “He’s in heat,” he says. Deep heat from what it sounds like, a level of heat not possible in a day.
Gunther shrugs, palming his neck. “That’s what I thought, too, but I—I didn’t check.”
With the right context, Levi can see his flush for what it is, the twitch in his fingers, the slight tenting of his pants. It’s the first omega they’ve had among them in years. In heat, probably decades, and Gunther’s unmated, affected despite his preference for women, reacting to pull of someone so desperate for a fuck they’d open their legs and thank you for raping them.
“Stay here,” Levi orders. “As much distance as you need but be ready.”
“Sir,” Gunther stops him, dropping his gaze when Levi raises an eyebrow, urging him to speak. “Uhh, are you sure, sir? You... you’re an alpha, too. You might... It’s intense.”
Levi’s first instinct is to scoff, roll his eyes and mock the thought. He holds back; it’s not his team’s fault for not knowing. “I’ll be fine,” he says.
❧
Eren whimpers, smelling him before Levi has closed the door. He needs the threshold clear but Eren’s uncontainable and everyone else would suffer too. It’s best to trap himself.
“Alpha,” the kid whines longingly.
Levi wonders if it’s the only thing he can process in his current state, the sight of him as enticing as it is revolting, sweating, writhing, twisted in layers of sheets, seeking pressure where he can, one of his legs thrown to the side, body dropped half way off the mattress so he can rub his groin on the rough edge, rocking back and forth against it.
There’s a dark patch at the back of his pants where he has soaked through them in slick and he smells like the sex he needs to have, aggressive and dirty and entirely too delectable. Levi had forgotten what it feels like to be at odds with the beast, hear it rumble inside him, blinking large, glowing eyes. Why now of all times, why him of all people?
“Eren,” he speaks, swallowing what tastes like peach nectar and clearing his throat off the itchiness, a sudden need for water, thirst quenched solely through inhaling him at the source. His back is flush against the door as far as it will allow him, fingers gripping the rotting frame to ground himself solid. The beast twitches, interested, and Eren responds through scent alone, equally piqued, equally drawn. “Stay put, Eren,” Levi tries to stand between them.
But it’s no use. In a graceless tumble, Eren has tossed himself off the bed to crawl towards him on all fours, narrowing the distance in less than three seconds. Tight room, tight, windowless room filled with nothing but Eren, moving closer until—
“No,” Levi snaps. “Stay—shit.”
Eren’s on him before Levi can decide to kick him in the face, reflexes stalled and mollified. He sinks his face in Levi’s crotch, drooling, snarling when Levi attempts to push him away. Levi grabs his hair to detach him, only to have his hand almost bitten off, Eren’s teeth snapping shut before his nose digs into the side of Levi’s leg where his thigh meets his groin and his sweat is heaviest. Moaning lewdly for more.
“You’re such a fucking problem,” Levi growls.
The bottom of his boot meets Eren’s crotch, pressing against his hardness, shifting until Eren gasps, jerking up, and Levi knows he has it right, keeps it there, rubbing at him above the layers.
Getting the message even through his haze, Eren humps him eagerly, a puddle of slick forming beneath him, smearing across the floor with his twitching movements. He’s crying, panting soft thank you-s, latching onto Levi’s clothes hard enough to hurt, nuzzling, trying to scent him.
Levi stares singularly at the ceiling and lets him get on with it.
Excusing the fingers in Eren’s hair as a precaution in case Eren tries something more. Excusing his need to have Eren cum as the most efficient way to settle him—they’re calmer post-ejaculation—and it doesn’t take long for Eren to tremble against his leg and shiver through his moans, slumping against him breathlessly, one breath, two... three, four, five, and—
“I’m—I’m—I’m... sorry,” Eren panics, flinching away, eyes wild and frightened.
“Shhh.” Levi pulls him back against his stomach, cold fingers against his nape, rubbing on his swollen glands, coaxing him down.
❧
“It feels like I’m intruding.” Hange smirks, noticing their position.
Levi throws them dirty look, explaining, though Gunther likely told them when he went to fetch them, and if he hadn’t, as an alpha, they’d sniff him out instantly. “He’s in heat. You have anything for it?”
“First heat?” Levi nods. “Hmm, I have nothing that’ll suppress it when he’s this far in but I can give him heat-killers. They’ll soften it up. Let me see if—” They step forward, arm outstretched to meet Eren’s forehead and brush against his bangs.
Eren snarls, vibrating in rage, a dark shift to his scent as he clings to Levi’s leg possessively.
“Back off,” Levi warns. “Give him space if you don’t want this place to become really tight, really quick.”
“Wouldn’t that be something.” Hange grins, unfazed. Of course, they’d love that, the crazy person, but Levi doesn’t want to explore what heat does to a dick-less titan without an outlet.
“Eren,” he calls, snapping Eren’s hazy eyes up to meet his glare, the brat’s narrowed pupils blowing wide at the sight of him. “Calm down, mutt.” Levi holds his gaze until Eren blinks first, submitting.
“You touched him,” Hange knows.
“I am touching him,” Levi snaps. “He won’t stop touching me.”
But Hange won’t be thrown off the talk Levi’s avoiding. “No, you helped him release,” they clarify, eyes drifting lower and stopping, Levi assumes, on Eren’s stained crotch, sitting on top of Levi’s foot.
Levi can practically taste the slick dripping through his clothes. If he concentrates, he can smell every drop on Eren’s body, the sour sweat in his pits, the drying semen on his cock, the saliva coating his mouth and chin, his need, heady and feverish, soaking his thighs. It’s excruciating denying him.
“It wasn’t my intention,” he admits. “I had to soothe him. Can you hurry up before this thing humps me again?”
❧
By the time Hange returns, a shot filled with amber liquid tucked between their fingers, Eren has relaxed against Levi’s stomach with his eyes all the way shut, huffing ragged, wet breaths on Levi’s shirt.
“Hey,” Levi shakes him, jerking his leg. “We’re going to inject you with something to help with the pain.” Eren doesn’t react to let him know he’s listening. Levi turns to Hange, fully exasperated and fully ready to kick him flying across the room. “Is he conscious?”
“Yes, likely, but he can’t articulate.” Hange taps the glass vial and pushes droplets out the tip, readying it. “Talk to him. He can hear you.”
“Brat,” Levi says. “Be good.”
Eren simpers at the word good, clings harder to his pants, whining. He’s pathetic like this, groveling on the floor. A stark contrast to the boy taking his beating with eyes that never wavered, bleeding without a single sound, without a single flinch even when Levi had his foot inches from his bruised face.
Hange juts their chin in his direction, mouthing, comfort, and noticing Levi’s blank stare, rolling their eyes and adding, praise.
“Be a good boy,” Levi digs deep in his ransacked compassion reserves to pull out. “Or I’ll find other ways to stop you.”
“Aren’t you a prince?” Hange mocks, kneeling next to them. They grab a hold of one of Eren’s wrists and unhook it from Levi’s body to hold it straight out on their lap. Eren goes without fussing, obedient. Levi shouldn’t want to feel proud.
“Good, Eren,” he rewards, lowering his voice to ask, “Will it hurt him?”
“Aw, worried?” Hange teases.
“Yes. About the possibility of being crushed underneath a titan who seems to be triggered by pain.”
“It shouldn’t.” Hange directs the needle towards Eren’s flushed bicep, tip sinking into his flesh. Levi’s hand moves to Eren’s hair to distract him. “You can help him, yeah.” They notice his fingers threaded in the soft, messy locks. “Like that. So there are some social graces left in you yet, captain miserable.”
The shot makes him droopy. Eren wobbles on his knees, furiously shaking his head as if he’s trying to get a hold of himself and make the world stop spinning. He blabbers deliriously with unfocused eyes, half-finished statements, talking to ghosts, his mother. He reaches for Levi blindly like a newly-born kitten, pawing at air, needing him.
Levi carries him to bed because he has to—Eren won’t go otherwise, seems incapable of coordinated movement—but once they’re there and he’s safely on the sweat-soggy mattress, he won’t let go, yanks Levi’s shirt hard enough to pop a button when Levi tries to rip him away, horrified.
“I’m going to cut your fingers off,” Levi growls, eliciting a pained cry from the pitiful lump curled up in his arms. It makes his alpha want to coo but it’ll take more than a sniveling brat for that beast to break free.
He manages to declaw Eren’s fingers from his shirt but Eren clings to his hands, pulling Levi face first on the bed with him and attempting a poor job at wrapping his lanky body, thighs, arms and all, around Levi’s resisting one.
“Got something that will lay him out? Before I do?” Levi grunts, glaring at Hange from under the kid’s sticky limbs. They think this whole charade is funny; it’s tearing Levi in two—the side of him that likes it getting harder to snuff when Eren’s practically on his lap, rubbing around his scent glands, chittering happily.
“Give him your shirt,” Hange says.
“Nesting,” they explain when Levi looks disgusted at the idea.
Eren takes advantage of his split attention span to wrap his arms around Levi’s neck and nestle his face underneath his jaw, sniffing and finally falling quiet. Levi wonders if he recognizes who he’s clutching so desperately, if it would embarrass him to remember it was Levi. He looked mortified earlier.
“This is the only one I have,” Levi mutters. They’re not exactly traveling with closets worth of outfit changes. He has one clean undershirt and Eren slobbered all over it, trying to mark him. If he doesn’t wash it tonight, it won’t dry by tomorrow when he has to walk around with one on his body.
“You’d rather spend the night with him?” Hange says, cocking their hip.
What’s left of it anyway. The sun’s probably peaking through the tree tops. Sleepless nights aren’t new to Levi but tonight feels especially draining. The thought of it turning into a full day of errands, of dealing with this specific errand, more exhausting than the lack of rest.
“Or you can take him to your room?” Hange suggests. “He’d be a lot calmer in your bed. Your scent—”
“No,” Levi snaps sharply. No way is he letting it become that... familiar. Even if the kid wasn’t a titan, even if it wasn’t part of the arrangement he sleep in the basement, he vowed to himself he would never let another person curl up in his bed. It takes too damn long for the scent to fade and he’s at his weakest when he can’t hold his eyes open, the nightmares swooping down like vultures to pick at his open wounds.
“Fine,” he sighs. Shirt it is but he needs his hands free for that to happen, needs Eren to separate long enough for Levi to get it off and into his clutches. “Let go, brat.” Eren’s a hot, heavy weight against him, refuses to stir. “Eren, for fuck’s sake,” Levi’s losing what’s left of his fickle patience.
“Let go, love,” Hange steps in, cooing softly in their very rare and thus, incredibly terrifying mother-hen tone. “You’ll be okay, baby, we’ll take care of you, we’re right here, you’re okay, you’re okay. He won’t leave you. You’re safe.” They pet Eren’s hair, giving Levi a look, passing the baton. “Sweet-talk him, tell him you have him,” Hange instructs.
“Uh,” Levi pauses awkwardly. ‘Love’ is out of the question and ‘baby’ is so damn stupid. He’s talking to a soldier, not a snotty-nosed runt. The only babies in this world are the ones sucking on tits. Levi won’t baby a man. “Let go, you dumb piece of shit.”
“Are you serious?” Hange gapes. “I take it back. You should practice being human again.”
❧
“If it’s his first heat he will have to be knotted,” Eld speaks what they’re all thinking before Levi figures out how to broach the subject.
It’s not something they talk about openly, their presentation and what they do with regards to it, an unspoken system facilitated purely through scent and looking the other way. Levi allowing them time to deal with their urges before they gets too troublesome and the team laying off his back for him never having to do the same.
Heats and ruts have been a concern in the military since the beginning of the need for one, which is why alphas were preferred for their strength and dominance, and the practicality of their ruts, short, manageable, dealt with privately through prostitutes and whatever warm body said yes. It’s why Levi’s team is almost exclusively made up of aggressives, Petra, the only beta among dominant alphas whose presence instills obedience even among those of the same rank.
The current situation has made recruitment based on presentation a privilege. In the military police, occasionally practiced, but never in the Survey Corps, where any fit, fighting body is as valuable as it is rare. So the government pumps them with suppressants whose longterm deficits are counteracted by the fact they won’t be alive long enough to suffer them.
Oluo leans back on his chair. “No one thought to put him on supps?”
“I guess we were a little busy fighting the titans coming from the giant hole in the wall,” Gunther snaps.
“He hadn’t presented,” Hange informs them of the real reason.
They hadn’t drugged him because he had not been one, because he had been a baby with no scent, the barest whiff of an alpha and Levi has never gotten it wrong before despite everyone’s insistence that you can’t guess what one might become based solely on personality.
Eren Yaeger was meant to be an alpha, of that Levi is sure, feels it in his gut, his cock—wanting to bitch him and confused with the result. What happened to change that is the uncertainty they’re dealing with. If Levi was self-centered he’d have thought it divine punishment that the only thing to instill any type of response in him is something he can but can’t have.
“The transformation must have triggered it.” Hange rubs their chin thoughtfully. “Though it is odd that it’d force him into presenting omega because you’d think with that sort of power...” they drift into self-muttering.
“So what?” Oluo asks. “If he doesn’t take one he’ll drop dead? I doubt titans die of omega-heat when they can regenerate internal organs.”
“Seeing as they have no genitals, I doubt titans have heat,” Petra counters. “Isn’t this good? It must mean he’s human. If he’s in heat, if he’s capable of heat...?”
Gunther and Eld consider it similarly but Levi never doubted Eren’s humanity. He was never titan even when Levi pulled him out of one.
Bringing it up with the team is a democratic move, not a smart one or one Hange agrees with, but one of necessity to keep up transparency among them, this illusion of equal say. Eren’s scent can’t be masked, stinking up all floors of the castle. It has all the alphas roiling. If they would figure it out anyway, Levi would rather have them told.
“We know nothing about this, how it manifests in someone like him,” Hange says. “We haven’t had the chance to study it. Presently, he’s unwell. If left to develop, he will likely die.”
“Then we should report it,” Eld suggests.
He’s right, of course, Levi’s second-in-command for a reason, level-headed, firm. The agreement never accounted for this circumstance. They should inform the higher-ups and wait for further instruction on how to handle it. It affects all of them and should be a thought-out deliberation. It’s tactical, not personal. Whoever fucks the omega gains his loyalty but if someone has to, because what’s the alternative, why not Levi, who’s next to him, who’s tasked with keeping him alive, who’s the only one capable of containing him. The honor should be his.
“I will do it,” he announces, speaking for the first time since they sat down.
“Captain?” Eld seems unsure.
“Sir,” Gunther pipes up, his eyes on his lap even as he addresses him. “If... if someone has to,” he hesitates, his scent all over the place, roaring then subdued when faced with Levi’s not-so-gentle warning flare. “Sir, you should let one of us. Your reputation.”
A fair concern if Levi gave a fuck. He’s a criminal among cops, despised almost as much as they revere him. They hate to need him, hate to follow his demands. This will surely sink him further—what kind of monster fucks a child, someone so young, so impressionable, who looks up to him, whom he’s in charge of?
That’s exactly why he has to. He has these thoughts, thinks of Eren as a kid, not a lab rat, as capable of suffering, deserving of relief and care—things Levi was never afforded. What would people ready to dissect him do to a pretty boy in heat? Take turns brutalizing him? Watch him burn himself brainless and use his passed out corpse as a fucktoy? Laugh as he cries for it, clings to anything, pain, kicks and jabs, takes any touch spared to get off, to survive, learn to love hurt, beg for it, beg to be abused? No. He has seen it—won’t let it happen again.
“We can debate with as many people as we want. The reality remains, someone has to fuck a knot in him.” He doesn’t miss the flinch rippling through them at the crude words. “I’m an alpha and he—”
“Wants you,” Hange interrupts.
“Trusts me,” Levi corrects them, then himself, “He’ll do what I say,” which is somehow worse. He knows he’s right, too, that for him, Eren would do it, with or without the heat, it makes it so much worse. “If we tell the brass, they’ll suggest someone else knot him, one of theirs. Do we want this weapon under some stranger’s influence? Isn’t that exactly what we fought against, bringing him here?”
“It might get to them too late if he’s in such a fragile state,” Eld rationalizes, knowing Levi has made up his mind and shifting towards damage control.
Petra purses her lips. Levi knows she’s about to speak against him. It unsettles him how ready he is to snap at her when she’s usually he’s emotional anchor, capable of massaging his dark moods with firm but compassionate kneading. Eren, his alpha growls, Eren comes first, but it’s not a competition.
“Should we be talking about him like he’s an asset?”
“He is,” Levi says. “He’s alive because he’s beneficial.”
“But,” she blurts, cheeks pinking when Levi’s attention lands entirely on her. “He’s... this is... it’s important to him, sir, if it’s his first heat.”
“You don’t choose to be a soldier to have a normal life. Are you forgetting most recruits never have a first?”
Sedated on presentation and sent to die never having felt the graze of a palm, the warmth of lips pressed to chests, to necks, the singe of a mark tethering you to the world like there’s purpose, hope for you yet. At times, Levi envies them. Others, he can’t imagine it.
“Of course.” Petra curls into herself. “I apologize, captain.”
“He’s loyal to you,” Hange thinks out loud in the heavy silence that follows. Levi’s well aware he’s bullying the team. He could put more of an effort into muting the aggression rolling off him but why, when it’s useful? “He’s reacting like you—”
“I didn’t,” Levi snaps.
“I know, I know, but he seems to have decided you will.”
“There you have it,” Levi addresses the group, placing his empty teacup against the table calmly and standing. “I’ll let you know when it’s done. Nobody approach him in the meantime and not a word to anyone. Erwin will hear it from me.”
“Yes, captain.”
❧
The room is stifling with pheromones and body heat. Eren lays spread out on the bed, dripping sweat and panting so harshly Levi could hear him suffer all the way up the stairs. He’s feverish, cheeks blotchy, lips dry and chapped, has torn off all his clothes, naked, convulsing, keening.
Levi notices his swollen nipples, his cock, a painful, rashy red, bubbling precome. He’s too far gone, dangling in the danger zone where his brain could very well fry itself into a comma. It needs to happen now or they’ll lose him. Fuck—Levi’s not ready—but it’s not about him.
“Kid.”
Eren doesn’t move to look at him, the only indication he heard the low groan he manages to force out. It’s desperate. Levi had planned to brief him first before returning later tonight after enough time to place himself in the correct frame of mind: that this is a necessity, that Eren’s life comes before his own personal qualms, that there are no morals, no right and wrong, no innocents in war, that this is on Levi for imprisoning him, aggressing him, dragging a child into a house full of dominant alphas without first checking he could handle it, assuming the little firecracker would present alpha and fit in fine.
“The heat-killers have worn off,” he says, approaching the bed. Eren looks too out of it to hold a conversation, hisses when touched, jerking away. It hurts in a place, abandoned and rusty, past cobwebs and a trap-door Levi nailed shut with her.
Levi sits beside him on the bed, reaches for his face to turn his head sideways. Patient, Hange had advised, giving Levi his rut blockers. “Do you know what’s happening to you?”
Making him release might help defog him long enough to run through the explanation but that would involve touching him again without setting boundaries, without giving him a chance to control the situation.
Eren blinks in place of a nod. “H—hot,” he rasps, thick eyelashes fluttering low on his burnt cheeks. He’s blistering on his face and neck. “I’m... heat?”
“Yes. You’re an omega and you weren’t on suppressants,” Levi says, his tone just a tad bit accusatory though there is no way Eren would have known when he’d present and even if he did, he wasn’t exactly in a position to ask for the correct care.
“Hurts,” Eren winces.
Levi wants to look away so he does the opposite, keeps his gaze firmly on Eren’s face and takes his pain without flinching like a coward.
“The only way to relieve heat that’s this far developed is sex,” he speaks calmly.
“Sex..? With you?” Eren chokes out, blinking to clear his vision enough to scan Levi top to bottom, appraising him.
Levi wants to run, which means he has to stay and see it through. Go where the dread limits you. No fear, just survival.
“It needs to be an alpha,” he says. Eren’s pupils dilate at the word. There’s no safe spot to look at, every part of Eren alluring, built to attract, screaming protect me. “I’m an experienced alpha and I...”
It’s hard to think of ways to complete that sentence. And ‘I’m the captain of this team’ and ‘I made the mistake of bringing you here’ and ‘I only trust myself not to hurt you.’ He’s selling himself to a heat-drunk brat half his age, who’d take any dirty knot-cock presented.
“I’ll take care of it,” he settles for. It meaning the heat; not you.
Eren looks like he’s trying for a smile. His hand finds Levi’s and pushes it against his cheek. He nuzzles into Levi’s palm, dragging his nose towards Levi’s wrist and sniffing where Levi knows his musk is strongest, especially in the presence of a beautiful, unmated omega that has his alpha showing off how strong and virile he is. A sweet, gentle purr replaces the silence. Eren’s soothing on him. The intimacy of the action makes Levi want to bristle. He’d pull back if it wasn’t helping Eren concentrate, easing his symptoms enough for speech to return to him.
“Ok,” he says.
Levi is a fan of few words and not pointing out the obvious but this seems like one of those times where ‘ok’ might not fully encapsulate the gravity of the situation.
“For it to work I can’t use my fingers or my mouth on you,” Levi says.
It’s unclear how educated the outskirts are on these issues, especially when dealing with male omegas, the rarest, most useless, presentation, and Eren, having been orphaned as a child, would know even less. The state isn’t prioritizing sex education for refugees when there’s not enough potatoes.
Eren’s eyes imprint on his lips. “I like your mouth, sir, I’d like to kiss your mouth, sir,” he blurts, the purring louder, aggressive, like crackling white noise.
“Focus.” Levi taps his cheek. “I will have to use my cock,” he explains. Eren nods comically fast. “I won’t be using a condom.”
“Babies?”
“Yeah,” Levi’s lip twitches in the ghost of a smile. “None of those. I know your heat is making you more dense than usual but you can’t be bred, you’re a man.”
Eren whines, pouting, and Levi feels it in his groin. Maybe the heat is making them both stupid.
“You’re loose and wet so it won’t hurt you when I penetrate.” Clinical words, deep breaths. “You’ll be fine. It should feel good. But once my knot.” He swallows thickly, glancing down at Eren’s entrance, loose and wet, like he predicted, and also the prettiest fucking asshole he has seen in his starved life. His breath catches.
“Fuck me,” the kid begs enthusiastically, making looking away difficult. Are all omegas this filthy or is this runt in specific an insolent, masochistic annoyance in every aspect of his existence?
Levi’s patience is splintering where it’s leashed tightly around his alpha, frothing over the idea of a first heat, a virgin omega, pure, untouched, what fucking him might sound like—make him love it, make him want it, make him want me, no one else.
“Listen,” he tames his thoughts. “My knot will stretch you and it’ll initially feel uncomfortable.”
No man has ever taken a knot kindly. Male omegas fight their own longing to be owned, have pushed themselves to the brink of extinction, but this one has to live. Levi’s in charge of its survival. A choice born of selfishness doesn’t negate its overall benefits. Levi wants to fuck him and his judgement might well be clouded by how irresistible the kid smells, how he’s clinging and begging, but it’s still the right decision. Erwin will understand. He has bet on bigger gambles, on Levi too many times to count.
“I will have to make you if you resist, otherwise we’ll have to go again,” Levi explains.
Eren’s panting, and nodding, and squirming. “Yeah, ok, fuck your cock in me, I know how fucking works,” he sounds slutty and that laced with his usual feistiness makes it all the more appealing. Perhaps his time is up. He should have briefed him earlier, after the brat’s first ejaculation when he was lucid, not now with his sweet cunt soaking the bed.
“I will hold you down if you fight,” Levi repeats the important part, grabbing Eren’s prying hand away from his crotch and pinning it on the bed next to his head as he climbs on top of his flushed body to pinch his chin and hold his gaze firmly on his face. “I will force you to take it.”
Eren’s breath hitches at that and the black lust in his eyes clears long enough for Levi to see the underlying nerves. He’s just a kid who was dealt a really shitty hand.
“It won’t work if I don’t,” Levi reminds him, as soft as he’s willing to go. It’s a task like any other. “And if you really fight me,” he smirks. “I’ll have to kill you.”
No one’s tried fucking a knot in a titan but there’s a first for everything, though he didn’t think they’d start the experiments here.
“...trust you,” Eren croaks, flashing him a pained but cheeky smile.
It has to be him. It’s his duty, his duty to humanity, his omega to claim—he thinks unbuckling his belt.
Eren gasps with the click, eyes roving his body to settle on Levi’s crotch as his pants part on either side. Levi drags his underwear down swiftly to release himself, his cock bobbing out, large, thick, fully erect.
Eren eyes it hungrily and his nose bleeds, dripping past his lips and chin. “Wo—ow,” he stutters, clearly the first time he sees a fully-matured alpha cock in all it’s domineering glory. “Won’t fight, want your knot... sir,” he catches himself.
“Wanna give you my knot,” Levi admits sharply. Eren’s visible arousal is relieving. It’d be hell to take him by force, not something Levi would think lightly even with his life at stake. “Get me wet.”
Eren nods, wiping at his face and only succeeding in smearing the blood across his cheek. He looks a mess. “Yes, sir,” he tries to sound brave.
Thankfully, doesn’t need to be told with what. His fingers reach under his ass, sinking into his loose asshole with sloppy sounds as he fingers himself. “Only... once?” His breathing shakes. He’s enjoying it, self-pleasuring with Levi watching. “One time is enough for me to...?”
Greedy, little bitch boy, the alpha in Levi rails, I’ll breed you so much you won’t be able to walk for a month straight, won’t be able to go anywhere without leaking my seed, you’re mine and I haven’t even touched you but you know it, don’t you? You can feel me own you, I own you.
He reigns it in, inhaling deeply through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, rolling his shoulders back and loosening his possessive stance over the boy. It’s natural to get emotionally drawn, a powerful, biological attraction. This prime, presenting omega would pull it out of anyone but Levi is above it.
“I’ll try,” he mutters.
Eren’s sopping hands wrap around his cock, spreading the sweet-smelling slick from Levi’s balls up towards the tip, pulling back the foreskin to reveal the bright red head, glistening in precome, and the kid is nose-bleeding again, can’t seem to get a grip. He flushes scarlet upon noticing and averts his eyes.
Levi wipes it off for him so Eren can stay on task.
“Sorry, sir.”
“It’s alright.”
“You’re—you’re h—physically attractive,” he chooses his words wisely. “I’m uh... I’m really wanting...”
“It’s alright,” Levi sighs.
Eren has soft hands for a soldier, unused to battle, the hilt of the sword foreign in his hand. When you get to Levi’s age the callouses are permanent. It’s impossible not to enjoy something other than his own rough, hurried palm working his length. No one has touched him in years and Eren’s grip is tight and confident; this part he has practiced.
“For a first heat, once should cut it,” Levi answers to keep his mind on the goal.
If he can, he omits. He has yet to try knotting anyone without a mark, the only other time he fucked to please, not finish, once, and it ended with a mating bite, broken by the inevitable, leaving him halved. The pain carving enough to deter him from rutting for five years, grieving the loss of a mate enough of a suppressant that even the alluring scents around him didn’t stir his alpha. He couldn’t sustain an erection, thought he was done chasing, that once is all you get. When you commit and lose it, you’re alone for life—that’s what someone like him deserves.
Until this. This brat with his fucking unearned confidence, his strength, his bright green eyes like fields filled with dangerous titans and nowhere to hide.
“I trust you,” Eren repeats, holding his gaze as he guides the tip of Levi’s cock towards his fluttering hole. “I’ve always looked up to you... growing up, you were everything to me—”
“Shut up now.” Levi stares him down. He takes over, replacing Eren’s fingers on his cock and keeping himself aligned as he pushes in.
“I’m, uh, I’m, thank you, I’m glad it’s you,” Eren disobeys direct orders, big eyes full of glossy gratitude, making Levi feel for a second that this is anything but taking advantage of a fucked up situation.
The heat squeezes all around him. He doesn’t make it all the way in, not how he had planned, slowly, methodically, giving the kid enough time to adjust to the feeling of a first cock inside him. Instead getting about halfway into his canal before the instincts take over and he slams balls deep into the tightness, groaning and squeezing Eren’s thighs to ground himself.
“Fuck.” Can’t help his hips from pulling out and plunging back in, once, twice, it never gets easier to hold back, never gets less, his cock is on fire, Eren’s taking him so well like he was fitted with an ass that needs him. It hurts to stop fucking him open but Levi forces himself to, settled all the way inside.
“Fuck, sorry, you’re amazing—tight,” he fumbles, his eyes stubbornly on the side of the bed where the sheet is slipping, anywhere but Eren.
The kid doesn’t respond, oddly silent. It must have hurt. Levi must have been too rough. Fuck. He looks at his face and finds Eren staring at the ceiling, blissed out, mouth hanging open, drool glistening on the side and sliding past his cheek in heavy, uninterrupted strings. He’s completely out of it.
“Eren,” Levi calls. He looks down where they’re connected and notices the kid has released all over his trembling chest, his thighs twitching in pleasure.
“G—good,” Eren manages with a loopy smile, slurping up his drool and swallowing it loudly. “So—so good, sir.”
He reaches for Levi’s forearms as a way to drag himself on his cock, hips rolling. “Where’s the knot?” he gasps out, biting his lip.
If he were capable of laughing, Levi might have. He sighs deeply instead and remembers who he’s dealing with, a child, a helpless, little thing caught in the throes of lust.
“We just started,” he explains. “I need time. I need to fuck you.” It’s horrifying to have to mention the next part, their ages, their differences in experience never more pronounced than when Levi wets his mouth and adds, “I need to pull out and push in, ok? If I don’t... pleasure myself, the knot won’t fill.”
Having to explain what fucking is to a kid he’s currently fucking. He feels dirty. It’s not fair to have them go through it so young, have literal children experience urges they can barely understand, force them to do something about it or die, it’s twisted, the whole system, rotten. Levi wants no part of it. He was fine alone.
Eren nods. “Ok, fuck me,” he says determined, the words sounding simultaneously wrong and so damn alluring falling from his plump lips.
“You’ll get the hang of it.” Levi resumes his movement, the first few thrusts shallow, only pulling out a few inches before pushing slowly in until they’re pressed tight against each other. Eren hitches a breath every time it fills him but he really does take him well.
“Uh, ok, ah, ok, f—fuck, ok,” he mumbles to himself, staring intently at the space between them where Levi’s thick cock disappears inside his ass. He’s going to have another nosebleed; Levi knows, tries to not let it distract him, picks a spot above Eren’s eyes to anchor on, the pretty shapes his wet curls make matted against his forehand in sweat.
It’s impersonal, a job, nothing more, the pleasure rocking through him, a side-effect, fleeting, flowing, searing as he speeds up—about half of his cock going in and out steadily. He can fuck him but he can’t want him. He can accept that this is going to make him orgasm but he can’t attach that to Eren’s smooth, tan skin, his sweet lips, his stupidly-gorgeous eyes, the sounds he makes, he’s lovely.
Eren keeps his fingers around his wrists, works his hips back in time to receive him, awkwardly off-pace, squirming and jolting, shifting around on the mattress.
“Is it hurting?” Levi stops again.
At this rate he won’t finish, lose his erection before he can. It shouldn’t be painful with how wet the brat feels, squelching, dripping on Levi’s balls, making a proper mess on his one pair of pants; he should have stripped naked but skin-to-skin would have provoked him even with the rut blockers. It would have been too overwhelming for the both of them.
The fit is comfortable, tight but he’s not forcing it, smooth slide in. His pride is almost wounded; his alpha pride definitely is. He had thought himself more intuitive. Surely, he hasn’t forgotten how to fuck, who the fuck forgets how to fuck? He’s in better shape now than ever before and though it’s been years since he last did this, his partner then had seemed satisfied. He’s a good fuck; he fucks well.
“No,” Eren gasps. “Keep going.”
Levi does, annoyance pulling at him when, three thrusts in, the brat curls, jerking away. “When—sometimes when—” he stammers, clenching around his cock. Levi thrusts in roughly to shut him up but Eren screams louder, toes curling adorably. “Yes, there! Fuck me right there, captain.”
Levi repeats the same angle with more purpose, hip smacking against Eren’s ass as he snaps them forward. Eren arches off the bed, eyes rolling back on his head. “Shi—t, yes,” he moans brokenly. “Can you—?” Levi can. He does. Harder this time to prove a point, of course he fucking can, pulling out all the way to the tip before driving back mercilessly and slamming on his prostate over and over.
Eren’s whole body spasms and he shoots thick, white ropes against his flushed chest. “Your cock—fuck!” his potty mouth wails before the words wither into a sobbish moan—and Levi feels.
It’s pleasure, yes, clinical, yes, a job, a job, a job, but he fucking feels it to his fucking core. His omega, his insides twist, his little omega is loving it, crying out in pleasure, he adores the sound of pleasing him, chases the high, gripping the back of Eren’s thighs under his knees, pressing them to Eren’s chest and thrusting in shamelessly, breaking him in half.
Eren wraps his hand around his spent dick and squeezes out the last few drops, shuddering and muttering obscenities, “Love your cock, fuck your cock in my ass,” he rambles strings of nonsense, eyes squeezed shut, head shaking back and forth like it’s too much—too bad, Levi isn’t stopping, he’s not sure he can anymore, cock pulsing and satisfied, harder than Levi has ever felt it, feels so fucking good pounding Eren through his orgasm until his small dick softens against his thigh, bouncing up and down with the violent pistoning of Levi’s hips.
“Yes, fuck me!” Eren yells, zero self-awareness, blunt nails sinking deep and bloody into Levi’s arms. “Don’t stop, it hurts but don’t—don’t stop, sir, don’t stop.”
“You’re very loud,” Levi feels the need to point out.
Very fussy too, he can’t lay there like a good little boy and take what his alpha gives him, needs to be trained, fuck, punished, fuck, taught proper manners, taught to stay put, kneel before him, to present for Levi, his alpha, to open his loud, useless mouth and let Levi fill it with whatever he wants, his spent until it dribbles out, his knot, spread his lips and cheeks wide enough to look obscene. Mine. For me. Mine.
“Fuck! Ouch! Yeah! Oh! Holy fuck, again?!” Eren can’t seem to decide how to feel, dragging Levi’s attention from that very nice, very faraway point where he was achieving some sort of functional rhythm to the sniffling wreck underneath him, squealing and trembling, ass tightening as he orgasms dry before he can even manage another erection, his limp dick twitching pathetically against his quivering, cum-drenched stomach.
Levi pulls out, pumping his dick with his fist to help ease the transition because it physically hurts to not be slotted in that heat.
“Your knot,” Eren whines, panicked. “Alpha, please.” So now he decides to have manners.
“Turn over on your stomach,” Levi orders, lowering his grip to feel the base of his cock where the knot is soft, not quite there yet, possibly further away than when they started. His alpha wants to stretch it, prove his endurance.
Eren lifts on his elbows without moving. “No, I wanna see you.”
First times are special. Drawn out, emotional affairs, usually taken care of by someone trusted and familiar. First heats, especially. Eren wants to be ravished, fucked and knotted and bred, sure, but kissed too, praised, desired. Levi can’t. He can’t because he’s so close to slipping and doing it better than anyone this kid will ever fucking meet in his life.
“I wanna see it’s you,” Eren frowns, no sirs or captains.
Levi rolls his eyes. “I’ll flip you back when I knot you.”
Despite the bitching and moaning it takes to roll Eren onto his spread knees, this position seems better for him because he makes happy little sounds and mewls with every thrust, leaning back to press his shoulders against Levi’s chest like he needs to make sure Levi’s there and they’re touching everything at all times.
He rocks back against Levi’s cock, doubling their impact, learning how Levi likes to fuck and fucking back to match him. Levi would love to see him lead, take charge, be the one riding; Eren would enjoy it too, he’d look incredible fucking himself on Levi’s knot. He banishes the thought as soon as it flashes through his lovefucked head, what a fucked up pervert he is, makes sense with his upbringing.
“On all fours.” He pushes Eren down, placing a hand on the small of his back to arch Eren’s body with his ass in the air while Levi’s other hand grabs his bony hip, steadying him. This time when he slams in, Eren falls forward on his face and chest, thighs shaking, and he’s close again, Levi can tell; he floods the room in pheromones every time he’s cumming.
“Quiet,” Levi orders him. “Make one more fucking sound and I’m leaving.”
If the brat knew how sex worked or could smell Levi’s arousal to the same extent Levi’s drunk on his, he’d know the threat is empty. It’d take a miracle to detach him now that he has mounted Eren properly.
Eren has enough common sense to muffle himself, biting on the pillow in front of him. Now all his stupid words are stupid moans and Levi is stupidly and frighteningly taken with the sight of him long, lithe and bruised. The position hits his prostate head on, has Eren jumpy and overstimulated from the last time three times he orgasmed, his cock dangling between his legs, painfully hard, ready for a fourth—Levi’s gonna give it to him even if it kills him.
He wraps his arm around Eren’s waist, resting it on Eren’s belly, and his knot pricks despite his brain knowing very well there’s nothing there, nothing can be. It’s the action, the tenderness, Eren shivering and moaning around the gag, placing his small fingers on top of Levi’s hand, clutching it like he depends on him.
“I’d fuck babes into you if I could,” Levi says, more for the act. It comes out naturally but he knows he doesn’t mean it; he can’t; it’s the end-goal that matters and this helps them both love it.
Eren’s dazed enough to not give a fuck. “Mhmm,” he says, head lolling so his cheek is on the bed, mouth open, eyes too just barely, murky and liquid.
“Sir,” he pants, slobbering. “Can—can I...?”
“Finish your sentences.”
“Levi,” he whimpers, making Levi’s hips stutter and his knot swell big enough to catch on Eren’s rim on its way out. Levi slams it back in before Eren has the chance to complain.
Eren winces, shooting up on his hands but not fighting it quite yet, too caught in the pleasure to realize what it means. They used to think only alphas could be bitched; omegas were bottoms by nature, meant to be dominated.
“Levi—captain, sir,” Eren fumbles. “Wanna call you Levi,” he phrases everything as a demand. Levi doesn’t remember omegas in heat being this bratty.
He doesn’t remember the last time he felt anything to this intensity either, anything that wasn’t anger or pain. Eren wants him like crazy.
“Le—levi,” he has taken his silence as permission.
It’s a boundary that shouldn’t be crossed. Levi is his superior. He shouldn’t encourage otherwise, shouldn’t have Eren see him as anything but his captain, but he enjoys hearing it’s him, not just any damn second-rate alpha, giving Eren what he needs. He enjoys Eren knowing whom his pleasure belongs to, his every whim and moan, it’s Levi’s for the taking; Levi’s gifting it to him, courting him.
“Only in here,” he gives in, falling against Eren’s back, teeth dangerously close to Eren’s nape, his scent glands, before he catches himself and presses his forehead on Eren’s shoulder, resisting the urge.
God, he smells delicious, trees, rained on grass, spring flowers, feeling the sun on your back and the wind against your face, freedom.
Levi bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds, tricks his alpha into believing it’s done, he marked him, broke skin. Enough to separate himself, put distance between his face and where Eren’s scent is strongest, dominating all logic—he can’t.
“Only when I’m claiming your ass,” he snarls, gripped by the sudden need to please him.
Inhibition giving in to pleasure, and Eren’s pleasure, both intertwined tightly. Levi hunts down how easy it is to keep pounding into him and feel Eren brace for it, shove back equally hard, moan in time to his grunts, clench as Levi’s throbbing, completely in tune.
“Wait, I think?” Eren hiccups, “I’m gonna?”
“Yes,” Levi urges him, feeling Eren’s body start to shake uncontrollably. “Yes, baby.”
“Aah—I’m, I’m—”
“Cum.”
“Pee,” Eren squeaks with a full body shudder and a strangled sob.
It’s not piss. Levi fucks in and on the pull, Eren gushes on his cock, the pressure of the sudden release pushing him out all the way. It gets everywhere and smells addicting, fogs Levi’s senses instantly, his mouth waters, slurping past his lips, fangs dropping for prize-claiming. He slaps his hand over it, covering his desire. Shaking, searches for a buoy, anything to cling to, to distract, because he can’t but it’s way too late—Eren, ass up in the air, thighs glistening in squirt Levi wants to lick off of him, pulls until he’s drowning.
His hooded, fucked out eyes pin Levi with the intensity of their affection.
“Knot,” Eren insists, being bratty, except it punches through Levi like a command, puppets him into compulsion. His cock throbs, filling with blood, and Levi’s too shaken by the suddenness of the order—he’s an omega, he shouldn’t be able to do that, not to him, not to an alpha—to notice his cock twitch to cum until he fears it might not be able to fit.
Presses his fingers around the fat base, squeezing his knot down, yanks Eren roughly towards himself and slams inside, sliding through slick and squirt, and forcing the damn brat to take the bulbous end, locking them together.
“Here it comes, little one,” has the decency to groan. In hindsight, a bad idea because it snaps Eren out of his sexed daze and he squeezes around him, whimpers when he senses the intrusion.
“Stay with me, Eren.” Levi moves his arm from his hip to wrap around his small waist, keeping Eren tight against his chest. He turns Eren’s face towards him with his other hand. “I’m trying to save your life, brat.”
Eren nods, seems to understand—bites the meat of Levi’s thumb seconds after. Hard. Hard enough to bleed.
“Oi!” Levi snaps. “I don’t regenerate like you.”
“Don’t... wanna,” Eren strains.
“I promise it gets good,” Levi assures him. “Focus on my voice.”
Eren’s shaking his head no. “Wanna turn... tryin’ t’fight ‘t,” he mutters, grinding his teeth.
Shit. Levi muffles his mouth. “Bite me. Hurt me, whatever you need, just, stay.”
Eren pushes his hand down. “No more,” he says, trying to pull himself away, noticing he’s stuck and kicking into high and frenzied panic, losing all sense of clarity. “No. No, no—”
Levi moves to restrain him, locking Eren’s arms to his torso and slowing down his flailing. “Count to ten. I’ll stop if you count to ten, out loud.”
“One, two—stop, please stop, please.”
“Three,” Levi reminds him, tugging his hips back.
The kid howls, ass clenching around his fat knot, trying to rip himself free. “You’re hurting me,” he cries, scrambling on the bed, fingers clutching at anything in close vicinity that might help. Levi falls with him to prevent injury, bracing against the bed and lowering to press him into the mattress. Trapped, Eren graduates to full crying, loud, pained sobs that nauseate. Levi has seen people mutilated without blinking an eye but Eren suffering hurts different. Who would enjoy this experience, who would get off on how badly another person doesn’t want it?
“Eren,” Levi tries to keep him calm. “I warned you. I have to.”
“You’re always hurting me!” Eren wails, bucking wildly to throw him off. It yanks on Levi’s cock, shocking his senses with agonizing pain.
“Count the damn numbers, you stupid bitch,” Levi growls.
“Five, six, seven, eight, nine!” Eren spits out angrily, getting louder, the rumbling in his chest rising. He’s shaking and not in pleasure, every muscle in his body tense solid, ready to snap, his fists curl dangerously. They can’t do this for the time it takes for Levi to breed him. Thirty minutes is far too long to subdue him physically and if Eren turns, if he decides to castrate him or tear himself open.
Levi grips his hair to push his face into the sheets, pivoting. “Eren, back down,” he commands, tone rupturing with alpha superiority. “I am your captain, I saved your life, you owe me this—”
“Ten,” Eren grits through his teeth. “Get off me.” Lethal. “I’ll hurt you.” He means it. “I will hurt you, I will kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you,” he’s snarling, snapping his teeth at anything, more animal than human, fully succumbed to his biology.
“Calm down, I don’t wanna hurt you,” Levi pleads—gets a feral titan screech in return.
It’s the worst time to doubt the intel he was given. After all how many people have successfully knotted male omegas and survived to pass on their findings. Levi hasn’t bred any for himself. He wouldn’t know if it worked, how long it takes for them to mellow, how anyone lives to want to do this again.
Eren elbows him in the gut. Releasing his hair, Levi intercepts him, squeezing Eren’s bicep and wrapping his other arm around Eren’s neck, pulling him into a chokehold. Eren paws at it, struggling to open up his airway. Levi doesn’t want to do this. His arm soaks in Eren’s tears. He doesn’t want to knock him out. Please.
“Trust me,” he softens his tone, nosing at the crook of Eren’s neck. “Trust me, Eren, I got you, I won’t let you die, remember who you’re dealing with. I’m your hero, aren’t I, kid? Trust me to save your life. That’s all I want to do. I want you alive.”
“Then claim me,” Eren sobs, stilling. His hands fall to his sides no longer trying to detach Levi’s grip. He’s submitting, a moment of clarity, however brief. “Captain,” Eren recognizes him.
Levi eases his hold. Eren’s hand grabs his and slams it on his lower belly, his entire being vibrating. It’s there, his fighting instinct, subdued temporarily like a smoking volcano warning imminent destruction. Eren’s warring with himself to give Levi an opening.
“Mark me,” he insists urgently.
Levi digs his teeth into his neck without thinking twice. He’s known for his quick decision-making and this might have been the easiest one yet, one his whole being supports. Not even killing titans is as clear of a choice.
His teeth pinch—he stops himself from breaking flesh. He has permission but after what they went through, it’s sinister to tie Eren to someone who assaulted him, if he hated this, if he fears Levi, if there’s trauma, this mark will grow to takeover until Eren can’t help but love him back. It will engulf him—when Levi dies, shatter him. He can’t do that to another person.
“Please.” Eren falls lax instead of doubling his efforts to throw him off.
He wants it, this is what he needs, Levi wants it too, needs it too, what’s the problem if they both want it, it has to be done, he won’t calm otherwise, he won’t stay, he won’t knot, if he doesn’t knot, he’ll die, and they need him alive, he’s the only one that matters, his life is everything they have.
The blood tastes tangy, dripping past his lips. Eren whimpers in pain but settles down at once, the dark rumbling dissipates into a low hum. Levi can tell instinctually that he’s okay, comforted.
“Levi,” Eren returns, slumping against him, head lolling back on Levi’s shoulder.
Levi steadies him, gripping his small hips and hugging him tightly against his body. His knot, vacillating in the scuffle, fills almost violently. Levi braces for Eren to hate it but Eren moans, impaling himself deeper as it stretches his ass impossibly big. He’s so tight, milking his cock. Reaches his hand back to touch Levi’s hair, dig his fingers in the short strands at the back and pull Levi’s lips against his mark. Levi laps at the bruising gland, apologizing, reminding him it’s there, he’s safe, alpha has him.
“You’re doing good, kid,” he mutters, choked up by the intensity of the rush—hormones, adrenaline, relief, both his own and Eren’s, dizzying him, their bond like an aquarium he’d been pressing a palm against, shattering instantly and the water spilling in waves large enough to pin him to the opposite wall with its force. Eren—his need, his pain, his rage, every part of him—entering Levi’s chest, his mind, his limbs, and forcing Levi’s own roaring release as he bottoms out in his omega and spills over and over.
“So good,” Eren affirms him back, settling his restless alpha. “I feel good, sir, you feel good in me,” he sighs warmly.
Levi’s shoulders relax enough to let go, surrender completely to the pleasure, grind and rut against his brat and choke down moans at how incredible it feels to feel again.
It’s the last few rounds of breeding that get Eren there too, their mutual, animalistic rocking culminating in Eren’s body shuddering and his cock spilling on his stomach.
They collapse forward on bed, Levi careful to catch himself on his hands and not put all his weight on Eren, while keeping in mind they’re still locked together, groin to ass.
“Don’t move or you’ll tear,” he instructs, maneuvering himself on his side behind Eren and guiding the kid to the most comfortable position to wait it out.
“Wh—why?” Eren’s breathless, sounding like himself again, the fog and growl all but gone. You cockslut, Levi wants to mock but he’s far too happy and delirious, lungs ballooning in Eren’s scent, something that used to revolt him now calming all his pains like morphine.
“I’m still inside you. We have to wait for the knot to go down.”
Eren squeezes his ass as if to double check. “Ah,” he whimpers, hand flying to his cock to touch himself to the sensation.
“Go ahead,” Levi permits it. He’s not in a rut so his stamina is shot and there’s no way he’d be able to go again so quickly, not after what just happened.
Eren tugs his cock, fucking back as much as the knot will allow, grinding down and rolling his hips in circles, tightening to feel him. “Did you mark me, sir?” he asks in between swift strokes. “Did you bite, am I yours, captain?”
Levi wants to say no. He shouldn’t have.
“Did you?” Eren whimpers, cracking.
There’s no use in lying. It’s not something they can hide, not that he’d want to. The part of him that’s animal preens at the conquest, wants to show Eren off to everyone, and the part of him that hates that debased part knows living with the decisions you make is life, acceptance and consequences, and the brat is both. He realizes too late it couldn’t have gone any other way.
“Yes, Eren.”
Eren goes stiff. His shoulders curl and shake with his orgasm. It’s not an unheard of reaction but Levi had expected more of a frazzle. He doesn’t sound like the type to take claim lightly, not one for authority figures.
That seems to be the last of his heat pooling out of his raw cock. Eren slumps on the bed, shuffles back until he’s tucked into Levi’s chest. His breathing slowing to deep, sleepy inhales. His fever breaks. A sheen of sweat covers his body as it regains its healthy pink color, no longer burning red.
“It’s over,” Levi tells him, amazed with how fast Eren’s body recovers from the brink of scorching while Levi’s aching and cramping.
Eren’s squirming to face him. It’s uncomfortable given their attachment. Levi said he’d flip him but then they’d be stuck with each other’s every insecurity in clear, direct display and this is impersonal, therefore, better. He winces as Eren tugs on his cock.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Levi repeats, hand coming up to force Eren’s body the other way. He hugs to keep him from moving around.
“I wanna kiss you,” Eren says.
Levi sighs. Fuck. He had noticed then. “Try to sleep.”
“Will you?” Eren thankfully drops the pursuit of the pointless—the inevitable, perhaps.
“I don’t sleep.”
“It shows,” Eren laughs, trying to wedge himself impossibly closer until there’s not a single part of their skin that’s not pressed, warm and sweating. He purrs satisfied, an odd whirr that sounds like he’s broken. It’s disgusting and sticky and Levi pulls him tighter.
“Rest. The quicker you recover, the sooner we can start testing you.”
“I will if you stay,” Eren negotiates, yawning. “Don’t leave once it’s done. I know you will.”
“I have to.” He’s in charge of a team, a war. He belongs to the victory first and foremost. This was for the victory too, tactical, not personal.
Eren whines like an abused dog. He’s going to become so annoying and inconvenient if Levi doesn’t nip this in the bud.
“Brat, we’re mated now,” he tries not to snap. It’s harder to give zero fucks when he can feel the blowback of his words, Eren’s dark lows receiving them. “You’re going to have to let me leave you, often for long periods of time.”
Eren rumbles like thunder. “No,” he says simply.
Heat isn’t the correct time to mention this to an omega, when they feel the most vulnerable, need their mate to protect them.
First heat. Helpless, traumatized teen, Levi reminds himself.
“I’ll always come back to you, Eren. I’ve no choice,” Levi admits.
“Until...?”
“Death.” He doesn’t know if the piercing panic cutting through him is his or Eren’s, it doesn’t really matter, it’s good they agree. Levi kisses the top of his spine, scenting his neck. “But I’ll never let that happen to you. It was my job to keep you safe before this and now,” He shouldn’t. “It’s the point of my existence.” And he has already failed once.
Eren succeeds in facing him this time. The knot must have loosened enough to allow it. Their faces are close, Eren’s eyes clearer, glowing.
“You’ll have to kiss me eventually, captain,” he echoes Levi’s thoughts, grinning. He’s absolutely right and there’s nothing to gained by denying it.
Levi leans forward and claims his soft lips.
❧
His cock slips out shortly after Eren settles into heavy sleep. Levi’s envious of how easily it consumes him.
There’s spent leaking out of his ass onto the bed, a myriad of uncomfortably large smells. Levi means to leave so he can’t explain why instead of standing up and getting dressed, walking up the stairs towards his room to rinse Eren’s stink off his body, drink himself into mild oblivion and pour over letters to find a way to report this to Erwin, he has both arms wrapped around Eren’s body and can’t let go, clutching him so tightly it reminds him off the day he had thought it easier to amputate his limbs than leave her behind to rot in titan territory. He couldn’t then and he can’t now.
But Eren’s isn’t in danger. Levi has to be able to move, he said so himself, he has to be able to leave him or there’s no point, or this is all over, he fucked the whole thing.
“Levi,” Eren mumbles, clinging to his body. He’s scared; Levi’s leaking his fear onto him. He draws his thoughts back, shuts down.
“Sleep,” he croaks out, “Sleep, I’ll be here, just sleep.”
❧
Hange finds him awake, questioning the future, with the brat cuddled on his chest. Their eyes drift towards Eren’s neck despite Levi’s best efforts at protecting it—their mixed scent gives it away.
“I had to,” he explains himself. “It was the only way.”
It’ll be hard convincing others if he doesn’t believe it. If he thinks it a dirty, disgusting lie, if he hates himself for touching him, calling him ‘prime’ and ‘sexy’ and ‘viable’, loving his cock inside that tight body, loving Eren moaning out his name. This guilt will be a tough one to scrape because deep down, he wants it; it’s not Eren, nor the heat. The mark means nothing, he wants it.
“You knew,” Levi realizes when Hange doesn’t seem surprised.
“I had heard.” They reach to remove Levi’s hand from the side of Eren’s neck and Levi uses a substantial amount of self-control to restrain himself from biting their hand off.
“I had my suspicions you would need to lay claim,” they say, thumb roaming around the sore, swollen gland.
Eren jerks in his sleep. He isn’t in pain but he’s distressed, he doesn’t like it, doesn’t want it, and even Levi’s self-control can’t hold his hand back from smacking Hange’s away to relieve Eren’s discomfort.
“He influences me,” Levi confesses, frowning at his shaking fingers, curling them in a tight fist. “This was a mistake. He can’t control it but he can control me.”
“Who better than you?” Hange counters, unbothered about how much of a problem this truly is. “You said it yourself, he’s your responsibility. This only makes it slightly more official. If I’d told you, you’d have hesitated. I know it’s unfair to ask you to go through this again...”
Don’t mention her, Levi levels with his glare. Not in front of him.
“Someone had to.” Hange shrugs. “You play the cards you were dealt.”
Levi’s caressing the brat’s hair because Eren wants him to and it makes no sense to expend energy into stopping it. Eren purrs, pleased, curling around his body until he’s all but on top, his leg thrown over Levi’s waist, head tucked underneath Levi’s chin.
“Will he change when his heat breaks?” Levi asks.
“I’d hope so,” Hange smiles. “I’d hope he’d want to do more than this. As do-able as you might be, captain.” They smirk. Levi’s unamused.
“Oh, you mean his mind about this whole arrangement? Honestly, Levi, I think this was his stance before the heat. He claimed you first.”