buckle

by Bananas45, somewherels (tinuvhiel)

Summary:

Levi’s breath is steady behind him. It seems to always be, even if Erwin knows that’s not the case. He tries to match its rhythm, if only because he hopes it will give some sense of calm to Levi, too; and because he knows he won’t fall asleep before him, not after what they have just gone through. So he breathes in, and out, and tries to will his eyes to stop moving behind his eyelids, and his heartbeat to slow down, even as he thinks, I am running out of time.

The shadows are drawing long black scores up the floor and the sun is low enough on the horizon it’s singed the sky a dark bruise purple. The light is getting too low to write, slow as he has to be, methodical. The characters are neat, Erwin makes sure of that, but the pace is tragic. It reminds him of how Levi still writes, dedicated to every cursive inflection, like the back of his hand would be rulered hard for any mistakes. Not that he can imagine Levi in a classroom, one with a teacher who’d patrol between desks, overseeing. The teacher who replaced his father was like that, austere. She had hated Erwin’s handwriting, actually. He’d been copying his father’s, really, remembering the shapes of the characters on the board in chalk, or his notes at home. It had an academic freneticness Erwin had found romantic.

He misses the ease of his own scrawl, he thinks it might be what he misses most, to make notes at his own discretion, indulgently. Although he tells himself regularly, he doesn’t deserve to miss much.

He has a headache pressing against the inside of his eye, down the slope of his neck. Being chained to a jail post for days will do that. His jaw is still aching, the aftermath of torture has snuck up on him. Saving Sina and installing a monarch took his mind off it, he supposes. Dusk has fallen on his new government, now, and the past few days are catching up.

Levi draws the curtains, large and weighted across the lattice windows. Erwin had forgotten he was here, if he is honest. He’s quiet as a cat, an unobtrusive presence. He has a calming effect, not just on Erwin, he noticed it early in expeditions too, that people would think to themselves; Levi is here, so naturally I am safe. It makes you more aware of when he is not there than when he is. They have been separated a lot, Erwin thinks, he had not allowed himself to dwell on it but it had felt like some substantial loss. They have been inseparable for half a decade. He tries not to think that he would still have an arm if Levi had been with him on that day. It’s a deeply unfair burden, that sort of strength, to have people think that of you. Erwin wouldn’t envy it, even if it weren’t so beyond normality.

Erwin’s gaze falls to the syringe box, watching the lamp light flicker over the metal surface. He will need to ask him more about it, the desire to presses hard against his sternum. But Levi can be skittish, especially when pushed. They don’t have time for discretion, Erwin could argue, but as he watches the flint blue of Levi’s eyes he knows he’d be seen for the truth of it; Erwin doesn’t have time.

He watches as Levi finishes starting the fire, sits back on his chair. Without Levi’s movement, and the scratch of Erwin’s pen, the silence isn’t comfortable between them. Levi’s tongue is on his teeth, his brows drawn and his gaze on a blade he’s pulled, old and not one Erwin’s ever seen. He watches Levi test the sharpness with his thumb, his gaze tracking his action, an unreadable look on his features. Pensive, maybe, if it weren’t so sorrowful.

“Was that your uncle’s?” Unfair, he realises, immediately. This is one of the first moments they have had to themselves, alone. He should’ve started anywhere else. Likely; I missed you over these weeks.

“Yeah”, Levi nods, slow. Flips the blade between grips in his palm, spinning it over his knuckles. On anyone else it would be a flair, on Levi it's as easy as breathing. “Don’t call him that, he really wasn’t family”.

It’s in that same level tone Levi says most things. Even Erwin is not immune to the subtle flare of disquiet it sets off in so many, like being told off by a parent, or - maybe just someone you deeply respect.

“Kenny’s”, Erwin acquisces. Perhaps Levi will be more prone to talk about it if Erwin is agreeable.

Levi stares at him, unimpressed, like he is reading straight through him.

“Right”, he says. His gaze flickers to the fireplace, the flames there. “I don’t - really want to talk about it now, Erwin”.

Understandable, and predictable, yet Erwin feels the disappointment heavy in his chest. When, then? He wants to ask, childishly. They are probably closer to finding out the truth about Levi’s strength than they have ever been. Erwin has read the reports, has heard the whispers; about how he and Kenny had gone toe to toe, about how most of their fight had been basically incomprehensible to those watching, both of them too fast and too strong to make sense of it. Erwin would have liked to have seen it, he thinks, and knows Levi would be upset at him for the thought. He is not some spectacle to be ogled at, no matter how much Erwin has tried to make him one.

“Tomorrow, then”, Erwin says, hopes his tone is firm enough to be taken as an order. It’s sometimes inexplicable to him why Levi would still respond to that, but he does. Even now that there is nothing commanding about Erwin’s appearance, bruised and tired and crippled. His left eye is still black and swollen.

But Levi just nods, clicks his tongue.

“Sure. But you better put that fucking pen down now”, he says, clipped. Erwin stares at him, head tilted, tries to read his mood.

“I just need -”

“Erwin”, Levi cuts in, quieter. “Just come to bed”.

He feels a little chastised, for that. He stares at the paper in front of him, puts the pen down. His writing is starting to look loopy, anyway, and Levi’s gaze is fixed on him, waiting. He chuckles lightly, rolls his neck before getting up.

“That bad?”

“You are tired”, Levi says simply. “I am tired”.

Levi mostly speaks in actions; it’s something Erwin had noticed from the start. It’s very rare for him to voice his emotions, or his requests, which means Erwin has had to learn to read between the lines. Right now, he thinks Levi is saying, I need you close. Erwin does, too. He has gotten worse at voicing it, through the years. Would it be cruel to get better at it again now? It would be selfish, definitely, but there are not many of Erwin’s actions that aren’t.

So, because he is a selfish man, he lets Levi lead them to bed, lets him help with the buttons of his shirt, lets him massage his temples softly. Under the covers Levi presses close, breathes him in.

“Never do that shit again”, he mutters against his chest. “You fucking idiot. You are lucky they did not smash your nose in”.

“I thought you said my nose was too big”, Erwin says, cannot keept the fondness out of his voice. He runs his fingers through Levi’s hair, longer since the last time he did this. “It would have been an improvement, perhaps”.

Levi lifts his head slightly, looks at him critically.

“Doesn’t mean I am giving others permission to punch you in the face”.

He shifts up the headboard a little, takes Erwin’s hand, looks over his nails, strokes between the webbing. Erwin looks at him, really looks, traces his delicate features, the sharp line of his nose, the arch of his cupid’s bow. He is handsome, Erwin knows, even with the sleepless rings under his eyes, and the line between his brows, all wiry muscle, sinew that flexes under the skin. He should have known, with a face like that; well balanced and noble, that Levi was no ordinary thug.

“They could’ve done worse”, Levi decides, eventually.

“I had to be publicly executed”, Erwin reminds him, keeps his tone light. “They couldn’t have been too rough, it’s unsightly”.

Levi’s jaw flexes, his nose curling, his eyes fall shut for a moment. Erwin waits for him to say something, some sharp little remark. His head just bows for a moment, like his neck can’t keep it up. He supposes Levi hasn’t stopped, really, from the moment Erwin was arrested until now. Erwin feels exhausted, and all he did was sit in a cell, and a bit of maneuvering.

“What would you have done?”, Levi asks, sniffs in. “If your gamble hadn’t paid off”.

He would have been dead, there isn’t much point considering it. Levi’s anger is furious, but there is a step before it, a simmering righteous indignation that Erwin has to be careful with. He can’t say he didn’t consider it, it’s not true, he did; he just didn’t care enough to hold back.

“We’d have all been dead, or if Eren was eaten, I suppose they might have kept me alive, re-written our collective memories. It’s not a fate I’d like to consider”. It’s significantly worse than death.

“Not mine”, Levi murmurs, presses into the soft muscle between Erwin’s thumb and index finger. He has deft little hands, wide knuckles but tapered fingers, bony needle points against Erwin’s skin. He almost winces.

“Not yours?”

He asks it casually, if he shows keener interest Levi will withdraw. He lets him focus on the pressure point, work circles into the skin. Levi’s brow raises a little, his shoulders almost shrugging.

“Something Kenny said, notoriously full of shit”, Levi mutters, and then, more sullen. “Lucky me, I suppose. What a fucking horror show, remembering when everyone else forgets, I’d have gone half mad”.

“I would have believed you”, Erwin tells him, in full sincerity. He would have.

“‘Cos you’re whole mad”, Levi sighs, and then, like chewing glass. “Kenny’s grandad said it’s why, y’know, Mikasa’s family was living in the mountains, why my mother was Underground”.

Hunted like hares then, Erwin thinks, buried or far enough away to feel safe. It’s a crying shame Kenny died, he thinks, and worse, that his final words were to someone as laconic as Levi. He has a thousand questions that he wants more than a yes or no answer to.

“There”, Levi says, drags his fingers up Erwin’s wrist. “Can we sleep now?”

Erwin pushes himself up a little. Oh, thrown a bone, then, very gracious. He looks at Levi, and he feels flayed open when he asks. “Do you not think it’s incredible? Does it not scare you more to not understand it”.

Levi’s eyes widen a little, before his features close off, pained. He looks ill for a moment, nausea.

“No”, he says, hoarse and quiet. “No. And I’m not scared, it’s -” He cuts off, harsh. “Erwin”.

Erwin thinks it does scare him, honestly. He needs to remember most people did not consider this world to work the way it does since they were children, and did not mire themselves in such deep conspiracy for so long. Most people are reeling from the truth. He cannot tell Levi - Levi who has lost so many people, who is held together only by some unknowably selfless strength - that he was chained in that cell more afraid of being wrong than facing death.

“Aren’t you tired?”, Levi asks, jaw tight, gaze faraway.

“Yes”, he promises Levi. It’s a lie. He is insatiable. Of all the people to be entrenched in this, he thinks, it had to be the one he has tried to stop from seeing this side of himself. It's karmic, really. Of course it would be Levi. He kisses his forehead. “Yes. Let’s sleep”.

Levi curls behind him, chest to his back, palm splayed over Erwin’s chest. He tries not to think about the fact he used to hold Levi closer, when he could; he tries not to think about the fact that they probably would have had sex, that Levi would have demanded to feel him real and alive and deep inside him. Desire ebbs and flows, he knows; after his squad died Levi just wanted to be held. If Levi wanted sex now he would say it, and kiss him deeper, open his mouth for him and run his hands down his front. They have had sex since Erwin lost his arm. But he won’t pretend it doesn’t feel different, that he doesn’t notice Levi being more careful with him; with his needs and his wants. He had pointed it out, once, and Levi had just said, get over yourself, in that harsh way of his, and apologised after with a kiss to his shoulder. He was right, of course; Erwin should get over himself. He just has never quite struggled with inadequacy in such a private way; in a way that feels so tender and sore to the touch.

Levi’s breath is steady behind him. It seems to always be, even if Erwin knows that’s not the case. He tries to match its rhythm, if only because he hopes it will give some sense of calm to Levi, too; and because he knows he won’t fall asleep before him, not after what they have just gone through. So he breathes in, and out, and tries to will his eyes to stop moving behind his eyelids, and his heartbeat to slow down, even as he thinks, I am running out of time.

-

They both wake up at dawn; soldiers to a fault. They rarely speak in the mornings and so Erwin is grateful Levi is not bringing up the three times Erwin twitched awake in his arms tonight, sweating and panting, a phantom pain in his stump and his teeth grit so tight he could hear them crunching as Levi rubbed his hand over his chest, silent and grounding. They go their own ways: Levi to his drills, which are never necessary and Erwin knows are more to calm him down than anything else; and Erwin to Hange. He listens to them ramble about Reiss’ titan, and then the government, and the serum, and what the serum could mean. If he was a different man, if he had a different role, he thinks he could show them how the fever in his eyes matches theirs.

“What did you think about Kenny?”, he asks at some point, rubs his chin and rolls his shoulders. All his muscles have felt locked together since his injury, even more so after being chained in that cell.

Hange shrugs. “Seemed like a madman. I never engaged him, Levi was taking care of him”.

“But couldn’t kill him”, Erwin says, pensive. Hange rolls his eyes.

“To be honest, I don’t think he seriously tried”.

"Sentimentality?", Erwin asks.

Hange’s jaw works. “Ask him yourself. He took out my whole squad. Levi blames himself for it. Levi blames himself for everything”. If Hange were a different person, Erwin might call it pointed, but it’s shrugged. “If he’d had an opportunity he would’ve taken it. As it stood, I think he decided living was more important than taking Kenny out”.

Erwin tilts his head. “You think Kenny could’ve killed him?”

“Erwin”, Hange says, with a wince. “I’ve never seen a living creature come closer”.

It makes him cold for some reason, a shiver down his spine that feels pathetic. He relies on Levi too much, he knows it rationally, it’s just entirely impossible not to. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Hange had told him Levi was killed, he’s never actually entertained the thought of it. It would have been a hollow victory here, he thinks.

“I think It’s obvious now”, Hange is saying, a little gleeful. “That he and Mikasa are related. Single-minded and sullen. Obsessed with an E name with a penchant for heroics”.

Erwin huffs, gives Hange a fond half smile. “I wouldn’t let him hear you say that”.

“It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Hange’s gaze is firmer now, that way it can get. “What’s in his blood that isn’t in ours”.

Yes, he thinks Levi is scared of them wondering too. He shakes his head, takes a breath in.

“I’ll talk to him”, he promises.

“I think he wants to talk to you too”, Hange says, rises to stand. “It’s not like he doesn’t have questions”.

He doesn’t know how he would answer them, in all honesty, if Levi asked how far this will go, or when Erwin will give up, if he asks him if he has a timeline for retaking Maria. None of them are questions he wants to answer. So they are similar, in a way, stalling each other in hopes nothing changes. He supposes he has to move first.

“Hange?”, he calls, just as they reach the doorway. “I am sorry about your squad”.

Hange kisses their teeth, gives him a short smile, just an inch of hopeful. “I suppose, with all we have done, I can at least promise their families it was not in vain”.

Erwin agrees, it will make it easier.

He finds Levi sweaty and panting on the training grounds. There is barely anyone around, many still licking their wounds, or mourning, or just adjusting to a new government, a new world. Erwin might have given leave - he can barely remember. It’s inconsequential, really.

“Good session?”, he shouts as Levi comes towards him. He watches him as he swallows down water, wipes the sweat off his face.

“Yeah”, Levi says, hands him the water sack while it’s still open. “Good writing?”

“No writing”, he says. “Went through some theories with Hange”.

He can see something flash across Levi’s gaze, worried or annoyed, he cannot tell.

“About what?”, he asks, keeps his tone casual. Erwin stares at him, the cut on his cheek he knows Kenny put there. Why are they talking about nothing?

“Kenny, mostly”, he says. “And you”.

“Right”, Levi says, clipped, grabs the water sack back. “Great. Anything you wanna share?”

“I thought you might, to be perfectly honest”.

Levi’s nose curls. “Of course you did”, he mutters, pushes himself away from the fence he was leaning against and turns like he might head off. Erwin can feel annoyance spark behind his eyelids.

“Where are you going?”, he calls.

“To shower”, Levi snaps. “If we are doing this I would like not to be covered in grime. Is that fucking allowed?”

Erwin purses his lips, feels this righteous anger in his chest. You cannot run from this forever, he wants to shout at him, but Levi is already stomping away and there is the odd soldier walking around. So he just grits his teeth, takes a deep breath in.

“I’ll be in my office”, he tells him instead, and gets some vague waving in return.

To his credit, Levi shows up there exactly fifteen minutes later, brows already furrowed and hair still wet from his shower. He shuts the door behind him a bit too strongly, slumps at the seat in front of his desk.

“So?”, he asks, like he had been casually waiting for this conversation to happen the entire time.

Erwin puts his pen down, looks at him.

“Do you think he could have killed you?”, he asks. Levi just blinks at him.

“No”, he says. “I am stronger than him”.

Than he was, Erwin wants to correct. He doesn’t.

“Hange said they had never seen anyone come closer”.

“Hange doesn’t know shit”, Levi grits.

“And how do you know?”

“I just do”, Levi snaps. “I fought the man, didn’t I? I grew up with him. I am stronger. What do you care, anyway? Won’t be an issue anymore, right?”

How can anyone be so sure of their own survival? But Levi is not a bragger, Erwin knows, he wouldn’t say this if he did not actually think that.

“But you didn’t kill him?”

Levi runs his tongue over his teeth, takes in a heavy breath. “I got him pretty fucking good in the side”.

“Not enough to kill instantly, so I hear”, Erwin presses.

“Yeah”, Levi agrees. “Maybe I had questions too”.

“And they were?”

Levi’s jaw works. “Personal”.

“That’s not fair -”

“That’s not fair?” Levi’s eyes are glacial. “Careful, Erwin”.

“That’s very withholding of you, Levi”, he retries.“Given what’s at stake”.

“Oh fuck off with that”, Levi scoffs. “You wanna talk to me about withholding? I know my strength, Erwin”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Erwin asks, incredulous.

Levi’s jaw works. “I wouldn’t have died fighting Kenny, I wouldn’t have died if you’d –”

“Oh, I see, I suppose I don’t have the gift of your exceptional strength -”

“No, Erwin, you don’t”, Levi snaps. “I wish I’d been there, god, I wish I’d fucking been there -”

“And it’s always been a detriment to you”, Erwin says, harsher than he means it. He watches Levi react, like a cat flattening its ears. “I’m sure everyone could be saved if you had just been there, wouldn’t they, Levi. But you weren’t, you can’t be. Let it go”.

“You should’ve waited -”, Levi says, thoughtless.

“With what time?!”, Erwin shouts. It takes the strength out of him, just makes him feel bone achingly tired.

Levi’s jaw looks dangerously tight. “You’re right. That’s the worst part, you are always fucking right”. He breathes out, sharp. “Next question”.

His hand is on the lacquered wood, fingers twitching. Erwin reaches for it without thinking, right on right, and Levi’s hand remains untouched. He doesn’t want to fight him, he thinks, exhaustedly, he really doesn’t. Levi’s eyes are tracking him, like he might be able to discern something. Erwin doesn’t know how much he can give away.

He pulls open his desk drawer, plants a bottle and two glasses between them. “Have a drink with me”.

“Was that a question?”, Levi asks. Sometimes Erwin wishes he could hit him, honestly. “And no, I think that’s a mistake”.

“I suppose -” Erwin ignores him, pours two glasses. “You must stay sober for your invalid Commander -”

“I don’t think that”, Levi says, immediate, stern.

“No?”, Erwin baits. Levi’s shoulders set back, his eyes on Erwin as he drags the glass painfully slow towards himself.

“You get fucking mean in these moods”, Levi says, more exasperated than anything else, puts his thumb into the crevice of his eye. “You have been doing it more recently”.

He is right. The lack of his arm makes him mean, the pain, the torture, the fear. It makes him exhausted, it makes him endlessly frustrated with everyone who is just now catching up on everything he always knew. Why does he have to wait on everyone else? Has he not waited enough, been patient enough? They have everything they need, now. They just need to get to Shiganshina. Does’t Levi get that? Erwin looks at him, how tired he looks, looks at him taking one careful sip of his wine. He is being unfair, he knows. He has been asking so much of him.

“I apologise”, he says, quieter. “I suppose I just find it - I would just like to know -”

“There is nothing you wouldn’t like to know, Erwin”, Levi says, exhaustedly. “That’s the problem, isn’t it”.

Erwin’s brows furrow, prickled.

“What does that mean?”

“It means some of my shit with Kenny is personal, and I am still trying to make sense of it, and I don’t know, maybe, maybe I would like it if you were just a bit -” He watches Levi struggle, watches his mouth open and close, eyes squeezing shut. “If you were just a bit more understanding, Erwin, because god knows I fucking try to be with you, alright?”

“Understanding of what?”, Erwin asks, glacial now. He takes another swig of his wine. Levi’s eyes track the movement, his own glass barely drunk still. “My disability? My theories, my strategies? I told you, there is no time, so forgive me for -”

“For trying to get fucking killed?”, Levi snaps. He puts his glass down, suddenly, gets up from the chair to pace around his office, fingers running through his hair, rubbing at his face. “You know, you are a real fucking hypocrite, Erwin. You want me to be so - honest, and answer all your prodding and all your questions but you never answer mine -”

“What did you even ask?”, Erwin says, baffled. God, he hates when Levi gets in these moods, all prickly and defensive and hissing. It used to make him furious, so much so there were moments he did not even care when Levi was retreating like this, when he’d shut him out so completely.

Levi stops pacing, turns to look at him. Erwin cannot read his face, not really, can only see the furrow of his brows, the downturn of his mouth, more sorrowful than angry.

“Do you care what happens to you, Erwin?”, he asks, quietly. “Really. Did you even want me to be there at all?”

Erwin stares at him, mouth open. Yes, he wants to say; and then he thinks, no. Of course he cares what happens to him, he did not want to die on those gallows. Or, maybe that’s different, he did not want to die without knowing.

He supposes that’s not what Levi wants to hear.

“Did I want you to see me hung?”, Erwin replies carefully. “No, I didn’t. If you were there, you’d likely have been next, or how do you imagine it? Hidden in the crowd? Helpless? would that have been better?”

“Deflection”, Levi accuses, viciously. “That’s not fair, I played along –”

“You’ve had two questions, can I have one?”, Erwin asks, refills his cup, tops up Levi’s.

Levi moves like he has autonomous control of every sinew in his body, like a snake coiled tight, and sinks back into his chair with his eyes focused on Erwin. He’s silent, furious but accommodating. Erwin will assume that’s consent.

“Your uncle had the syringe to use on himself, to what end?”

Levi shakes his head, lips working around the words. He takes a larger sip of his wine. Erwin ignores how it makes something like guilt flare in his stomach.

“Wanted to -” Levi’s jaw works. “I don’t know, Erwin, it didn’t sound like him. So I’d call bullshit, honestly”.

“Deflection”, Erwin says gently.

“To be a better person”, Levi snaps. Erwin tilts his head. “His words. Not mine. He didn’t understand how it worked. And - frankly -” Levi finishes his glass, reaches for the bottle. “It’s a fairly classic fucking Kenny move, that amount of self-pitying need for absolution, like he didn’t -” Levi’s nostrils flare. “See? Has fuck all to do with anything. He was a selfish, crazy, fucking bastard”.

“And I suppose he trained this power in you, knowing what it was, the same strength that is in Mikasa -”

Levi shrugs. “I don’t think it works like that. It’s my turn”.

Erwin teeth grit, frustration seeping through him.

“Why’d you give me that syringe, really?” Levi swallows.

“Strategically, you are the best bet. You can use it on yourself”, Erwin reminds him.

“Except I won’t do that, will I?” Levi looks at him from under his lashes, sickened. “You trust me to make a call like that? When I’m -” He cuts himself off. “I’m not objective, neither is Mikasa”.

“What do you mean by that?”, Erwin asks, genuinely. Levi’s eyes squeeze shut, for a second he looks so genuinely young and confused, that Erwin just wants to reach out, stroke his cheek and ask him what’s wrong.

“I don’t know, alright? We just aren’t… ” He murmurs, his hand comes to his forehead, pushes his hair back. “Your wine’s giving me a headache”.

“You’ve had about five sips”, Erwin tells him.

“What am I without your direction?”, Levi asks and bites his lip like he didn’t ever mean to say it.

The question makes Erwin’s head spin, if he is honest. He has considered his death, for some reason he has not paid much attention to what Levi would do after. He would keep going, Erwin knows. What point is there in considering any other alternative? They wouldn’t materialise. He will suffer, of course, or at least Erwin thinks so. But he will keep going, as he has always done. There is some sort of comfort in that, he thinks. “I am not sure I understand your question”, he says. “You are more than capable of conducting yourself without -”

“I fucking know that”, Levi cuts in, teeth gritted. “I know that, but you - you - you don’t seem to fucking care what happens to you, and I -” He exhales, shuddering, leans back on his chair like he suddenly does not have the strength to stay up, eyes closing. He stays quiet for a while, swallows thickly before he starts again. “Kenny said, we all have something to keep us moving. And I don’t think he had that, in the end. But he did, for a while”. Levi’s jaw is tight as he looks to the side, bites the inside of his cheek. “I have always been - I never wanted to end up like him”. His eyes flutter shut again. “I don’t wanna end up like him”.

Erwin stares at him, for a moment, the sorrowful look on his face, the defeated bow of his back. He feels at loss, really. This is not how he expected this conversation to go. What did he tell you that you are hiding from me, he thinks, what did you figure out. Then he thinks of how young and how lost Levi looked just moments ago, sat on that chair. He doesn’t know, Erwin realises, he doesn’t really understand whatever he is piecing together. He asked Erwin to be patient. Maybe he should. Even if they don’t have time.

He gets up, leaves his desk to go kneel in front of Levi. This time when he reaches out to clasp his hand Levi doesn’t pull away.

“I shouldn’t have pushed”, he murmurs.

“No, you shouldn’t have”, Levi gets out, still not looking at him. Erwin watches how his eyelashes flutter, how he swallows. “You know I am on your side, Erwin. Whatever your plan is, I’ll help you. I am not hiding anything from you to hold you back”.

He finally looks at Erwin, meets his eyes. He is genuine, Erwin knows, Levi can be honest to a fault. But he cannot shake the franticness inside him that just wants more, that wants to prod and poke and make Levi report everything word for word. He tries to force it down, nausea creeping up his throat. How many crimes can he commit for humanity, how cruel and distant can he be before it catches up with him? It already has, really, he can feel it, like insects crawling through him, corroding him and his body and his mind.

He takes Levi’s hand, kisses his knuckles.

“I know”, he says, as soft as he can. “I know you are on my side”.

Inexplicably, despite everything. Levi looks down at him, swallows as he cups his cheek, thumb brushing under his eye where Erwin knows his bruises are still healing.

“If you laid it out for me”, Erwin says, and god he means it, from the bottom of his heart, he means it. “I could help. We could discuss it”.

“You could just order me”, Levi tells him, harshly, and yet he almost looks like he wants it. He did it earlier too, when Erwin offered him the syringe, asked why he wouldn’t just order him to take it. He doesn’t want to, is his only answer, if Levi demanded to know the reason that’s all Erwin would be able to give.

“I just want to understand what you’ve been through”. And that’s manipulative, he knows, and judging by Levi’s face, he’s seen right through him too.

“Did you think you were going to die when that titan took your arm?”, Levi asks and then cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Actually, I asked last, your turn”.

Levi is very rule-abiding for an ex-criminal, sometimes. Erwin ignores him, sits back on his heels slightly.

“I didn’t care”, Erwin tells him. Have they really not had a chance to speak about this? He supposes not. Between finding out about the titans and a few desperate fucks, they have not seen much of one another. “It happened in an instant. The priority was still Eren”.

Levi kisses his teeth, buffs a strand of hair away from Erwin’s face. “Everyone says you were very brave and then thanked you by locking you up”.

Erwin rolls his eyes. “Don’t be bitter, Levi. We hold it all now”.

“Yeah”, Levi murmurs. “I suppose we do. You going to take it all? From Mitras to Shiganshina?”

That’s a trap of a question, Erwin thinks, and he’s not going there right now. If Levi’s power is off limits, Maria is too.

“Is that not the goal of humanity?”

“That’s an ever shifting goal, where you are concerned”.

Ever astute, Erwin thinks witheringly. He doesn’t know how to tell Levi that he is frightened too, that maybe life will just leave him when he finds out the truth. He hopes it’s stymied, that Grisha’s basement is just a step towards discovery. He can’t help but think he will be hollow no matter what. He wonders what use he will be without something to push him forward.

Erwin goes back to his chair, finishes his glass. “Alright. Can I ask you something? Not as your Commander, just as your friend. And it’s no trap, and you can answer how you please”.

Levi’s eyes narrow, he shifts in his seat, shrugs.

“Are you alright, Levi? Really”.

“No”, Levi tells him simply, sniffs in. “No. Are you?”

“No”, Erwin agrees. “I’m not”.

And then, soft, and unasked, Levi murmurs. “I’ve not felt fear like that in a really long time, when he shot Nifa in the face. I didn’t know I was capable of still feeling fear like that. He was so fucking merciless to me back then, Erwin, you have no idea. And then, I don’t know, I faced him and he was so old and small looking. And we fought, and I was stronger, I could feel it, just how much stronger than him I was”. He swallows. “And I think it made me hesitate”.

Erwin stares at him for a moment, then averts his gaze, fills up their glasses again instead. There is something unsettling about Levi saying out loud he had been scared. He knows, abstractly, that Levi is capable of feeling fear; has seen it on his face a few times, too, like on that horrible first mission. But the mythos of him that Erwin himself has built catches him in his web sometimes. With everything they have faced, he almost cannot believe it was a simple man that made Levi scared. But he wasn’t a simple man, he tells himself. He breathes in deeply, exhales slowly, turns to give Levi his glass.

“Hesitate?”

Levi takes the glass and puts it down in one motion. Erwin takes his lips to his, if only to have something to do with his hand, and because he is not sure he could offer Levi much comfort now.

“He was obsessed with trying to make me strong”, Levi mutters. “I wasn’t - I wasn’t always strong as a child. I have fought with him -” He grits his teeth, eyes squeezing shut. “He wanted to make me strong”, he says again. “So I know how his strength used to feel”. Levi sniffs in, gulps down a good chunk of his wine this time. “It weirded me out, to not feel that the same way”.

You mean you could hit him back, Erwin thinks, doesn’t say. He tries to picture Levi as a child. He can only imagine a surly kid, not much past a pout and furrowed brows.

“I fear I am feeling my own strength fading”, Erwin says, quietly, offers Levi something back. “I thought I’d have more time”.

“You do have time”, Levi gets out, half between convinced and alarmed. “What do you mean?”

If he was honest, Erwin would say, that I know I will die on the field. He has done the math, weighted the outcomes. His chances of survival in battle without an arm are so extremely low, he thinks, and yet he has not even considered not joining their last mission, not being there at Wall Maria, at Shiganshina, down in that damned basement. He sighs, lays back against his chair.

“As you said yesterday”, he says, tries to keep his tone even. “I am tired, Levi. I don’t think I have ever felt this tired. And I am crippled, and older, and was chained in a cold cell for quite a long time for a man of my age”. He tries to give Levi a smile. “Your strength remains unchanged, and you are always so capable. But I can feel myself becoming incapable of so much -”

Levi gets up, suddenly, rounds the desk to come close to him. He stares down at him, gaze hard, tilts Erwin’s chin up.

“You lost an arm. You will adjust. You just need to listen to me when I tell you to stop”.

Erwin doesn’t think there have been many times when Levi has been so firm with him. He nods, even if he doesn’t really believe the words. Levi’s brows furrow a little, his eyes narrowing. He finds him so hopelessly attractive, the steel in his eyes when he tells Erwin these things, these outward facts that Levi just takes to be truth. Yes, he will adjust, Erwin thinks, he has already. He can ride a horse, he can use ODM. If he thinks of himself as though he were Levi, he could tell himself this is some minor setback, really.

He could order him, he knows, to make sure he comes home and it would be a horribly unfair thing to do. It doesn’t make it any less appealing, somehow, to tell him how scared he is, to take his hand and say, make sure I come home, Levi. He thinks Levi might just do it too, even if it meant no-one else came back, even if it meant his own sacrifice. Because Levi is single-minded, undoubtedly so. He is terrifyingly beautiful that way.

“Why’re you gawking at me?”, Levi tuts, settles his weight back against the desk, his boot landing between Erwin’s knees on the wood of the chair. Erwin gazes up at him, his throat dry.

“I missed you”, Erwin tells him honestly. Something wavers in Levi’s gaze, his lips dropping open a little.

“Yeah?” Levi tilts his head, a silk black strand of hair falling over his forehead. “You’ve taken about 72 hours to say”.

Erwin has to bite back a smile at that. “I’ve been a bit busy -”

Levi’s boot inches forward a little, presses with no pressure against the outline of his cock. It makes him gasp, hand coming to Levi’s knee. “I facilitated your coup d'état”.

The wine he barely drank has slightly stained his bottom lip, settled in the line where Levi bites too much. Erwin’s breath feels too loud in the room, suddenly, overly affected. These moods are rare in Levi, he feels some kind of way about his own carnality, Erwin knows, and would never press on the way he sometimes can flinch from touch. Even if Erwin has never met anyone as carnal as Levi, who solves all his problems somatically; violence, sex, vicious exercise and exhaustive cleaning, who indulges only in touch and taste.

“Are you distracting me from my incessant questioning?”, Erwin asks, even if the will to continue is fading fast. Levi has that effect, when he puts his mind to it. Erwin feels witless to it.

“I think you want to be distracted”, Levi tells him.

Erwin swallows. “You should lock the door”.

Levi kisses his teeth. “I don’t think you’ll take that long”.

It sends a rush of heat through him. He grabs Levi’s shirt, tugs him close. Levi’s lips brush his, pull back just a little, then do it again. He missed him, Erwin can’t help but think again, he missed the smell of him, the taste of him, and somewhere deep, somewhere he doesn’t want to listen to, Erwin thinks he will miss him so fucking much. Their lips meet, harsh, Levi’s foot drops away, his hand sliding down Erwin’s front. He feels sick with guilt, and grief, and greed, this messy, needy maelstrom inside him. Levi is not kissing him like this is goodbye, so Erwin won’t either. He wills it to be simple, to be nothing, to be touch and only touch, like Levi lets it be.

It’s anything but, he knows. It took them a long time to get here and even now they can be stilted, and off-balance. The loss of his arm hasn’t been easy but Levi makes him forget it, sometimes, makes him forget it in the way he kisses him with the same single-minded desire, in the way his hands don’t hesitate to run over his shoulders, to unbutton his shirt and caress over his chest, down his torso. Levi settles over his lap, traces Erwin’s jaw with his lips. Erwin would like to have him naked, too, but that would mean moving his arm from around Levi’s waist, would mean stop grabbing him to bring him closer.

“Well, you’ll have to be quick now”, Erwin breathes, and he feels so affected already. “It would be uncouth for me to be found half-naked in my office”.

Levi tuts lightly, not his usually annoyed scoff, just amused. It makes Erwin shiver anyway.

“As if we’ve never fucked here”.

“When the door was locked”.

Levi doesn’t acknowledge the comment at first. His hands are on Erwin’s belt, now, undoing it, fingers nimble.

“I’d get to the door fast enough if someone was trying to come in”.

“And what, ah -” Erwin gasps, hips bucking when Levi rubs his cock through the thin cotton of his underwear. “You’d slam it in their face? That would not be -”

“Appropriate?”, Levi mutters, looks at him from under his lashes. His gaze has gone all dark, his voice lower and raspier. It makes Erwin twitch against his hand. “Stop talking”.

Erwin follows the advice. He is not sure he could formulate anything coherent anyway, they have not touched in so long and when Levi takes his cock out properly he is already hard and leaking in his hand. It’s fast and a bit rushed like it has to be the majority of the time they do this, but Levi’s lips are soft against his, drag slowly against his skin as he jerks him off. Erwin wants to look at him as much as he can but he has to concede, at some point, leg muscles tensing and head hitting the back of his chair as he groans. Levi moans too at the sound, follows him so he can kiss him hungrier, deeper.

“I missed you too”, Levi gasps against him, and yes, Erwin supposes he never said it back, though he never realised it. Sometimes Levi makes words feel completely superfluous. It’s something Erwin never quite managed himself.

He takes Levi’’s jaw in his hand, feels the bone there, the soft skin under his chin shift as he swallows. Levi’s fingertips have a chill to them Erwin quite enjoys, that make him arch into the sensation. He hooks his thumb into Levi’s mouth, feels the heat under his tongue, the bite of his teeth. Levi’s cheeks flush a little, his eyelids fluttering. For someone so untouchable, Levi is very tactile, Erwin always thought. Or maybe that sort of strength makes touch necessary. He often wonders how it feels, he thinks as he smears his thumb across Levi’s bottom lip, watches it redden, if it simmers under Levi’s skin at all times, or comes alight inside him when needed. He is so soft, really, and utterly human, pulse thrumming under Erwin’s fingertips.

“You’re close”, Levi murmurs, drags his teeth over his thumb. It makes Erwin shudder.

He is. It’s been a while, with his only hand shackled to a wall. The pleasure feels ridiculously earned, though that’s a very Levi thing to think. Levi who only allows himself to savour the affordances of his rank after near death; good food, good wine, a decent bed. He hopes Levi will find someone to share his indulges in when Erwin -

Levi’s spare hand tugs his hair hard, forces their eyes to meet. His gaze is sharp, wild in that way it can get, when the glint in it is terrifying. His lips brush dangerously over Erwin’s, take his bottom lip between his teeth, almost a bite, not quite. Levi has a scary sixth sense of Erwin’s commiserating melancholy.

“Levi -” He breathes, soft against his lips, hips chasing the friction. His hand falls to Levi’s shoulder, digs into the muscle. Levi brings him close, Erwin’s head against the line of his neck. His hands drawing patterns into Erwin’s scalp. His orgasm rolls through him in blistering waves, leaving his mind perfectly blank for a moment.

Levi catches his come neatly in his palm. Erwin’s breath is shuddering out of him as he leans back, watches Levi bring his hand to his mouth with unflinching eye-contact and lick him clean off his finger. Erwin squeezes his eyes shut, feels a flare of heat through him he can only twitch through.

“God”, he gasps.

“Any more questions?”, Levi asks mildly.

Erwin pushes him flat over his desk. Levi goes with it weightlessly, so aware of his limbs even as he affects being overpowered; hands spread by his hair just missing the inkpot by his pinky finger. Erwin feels painfully ungainly as he takes him out his trousers, pulls the chair close as Levi inches his hips forward, takes him in his mouth.

Levi arches, thighs parting. A hand grabbing the desk edge behind him, a gasp caught in his throat. It must have been long for him too. He is leaking in Erwin’s mouth and he has barely done anything. His thighs are tensing, his abdomen, too; Erwin can’t resist the urge to slide his hand under his shirt, feel his muscles ripple under his palm. Levi’s fingers are in his hair, keeping him close but not pushing him down, tight enough Erwin’s scalp tingles from it. Erwin cannot see his face very well like this but he can see how his muscles shift, how affected his breathing is, can hear his soft moans and pants. He strokes over Levi’s stomach, feels how warm he is, how hardened and how utterly human at the same time.

“Erwin”, Levi breathes out, and it’s less of a warning and more of a sigh. Erwin loves hearing his name in Levi’s mouth, loves the taste of Levi in his mouth too as he comes, shuddering, pulling at Erwin’s hair so tight his eyes water. Erwin swallows it all, licks him clean after too, just to see how Levi shivers from oversensitivity. He stands up, looks down at Levi, spread and flushed over his desk, lips parted and gaze half lidded. He runs his thumb over Levi’s bottom lip, wet with drool under his finger. For a moment this is all that matters, for a moment nothing exists past this.

“You are beautiful”, Erwin says, soft. “And I did miss you”.

Levi’s cheeks darken. He grabs Erwin’s forearm, lifts slightly to kiss his wrist, breathe his skin in.

“No need to try and be charming now”, he says, sits up on the desk and loops his arms around Erwin’s neck. “You -”

“I mean it”, Erwin tells him, with more strength than necessary perhaps. He cannot keep the slight desperation out of his voice. “I hope you know that”.

Levi pulls back slightly to look at him, brows furrowing. He searches Erwin’s face, gaze moving over him, assessing. Erwin forces himself to not give too much away, just stares back.

In the end it’s Levi who looks away first.

“I do”, he says, quietly, starts doing up his belt, moves to Erwin’s after. Erwin’s throat feels dry, his eyes stinging. Embarrassing, he tells himself, to get emotional over this. He cannot start breaking down at every moment they have together; he cannot start breaking down at all.

“There”, Levi says after he is done doing his buttons up, pats his chest. “All presentable again. Now you don’t have to worry about the lock”.

Erwin hadn’t, to be honest; he hadn’t been worrying about the lock at all. Suddenly even having Levi this close feels like too much. He clears his throat, steps back.

“That was reckless”, he says, distancing. “I should get back to work”.

Levi is staring at him again, eyes boring into him. Whatever he finds there makes his lips purse as he exhales loudly, jumps down the table.

“Any orders?”, he asks, flat, as he puts his jacket back on. It makes Erwin feel unbearably chastised.

“No”. Erwin gives him a curt smile. He watches Levi adjusts the cuffs on his jacket, jaw flexing.

“I suppose I should go”, Levi murmurs, and then, with a wince on his features, lip curled. “If you have run out of questions I can’t answer”.

Erwin wants to say that’s not fair but then, in Levi’s eyes, it really is; Erwin who demands to know the ins and outs of a past Levi has never been comfortable sharing, who tells him he misses him as he fucks him and then distances himself straight after. He just doesn’t know how to share this part of himself, this incessant childish need; doesn’t know how to share it with someone like Levi who has never been a child, not really, has never fantasised or had a world view shattered like the likes Eren and Erwin by death or destruction because those have lingered constantly in Levi’s life, companions since birth. He thinks Levi might love him, might love this stalwart leader Erwin lied to him about being. He doesn’t think Levi would have much time for the stupid child Erwin is at his core.

“Thank you for your time, really”, Erwin promises him.

Levi looks painfully incredulous, his gaze swapping between Erwin’s eyes. In the end he just huffs, privately derisive.

“Alright”, he bites.

 

-

 

Levi makes himself sparse until later the next day. Erwin can sense him around like a house spider, quick out of the corner of his eye, disconcertingly ever-present. It’s fine, it gives Erwin time to think. He struggles around Levi, if he is honest, to remain impartial to planning a future he might well not see. Levi makes him hope to live, flares something in him past truth-seeking he can’t abide right now.

And yet, he’s a useful sounding board and by mid-afternoon he’s sought him out. Found him in the stables, keeping busy. Erwin clears his throat, Levi doesn’t look up.

“The average person, untrained, could fight back if you pinned them down”.

Levi looks genuinely horrified. “What?”

“Ragako”, Erwin says. Levi’s eyes roll, he goes back to combing through his horse’s mane. “Every person, in that whole village, injected via syringe, and none escaped”.

“You’ve gotta fill me in on the several steps you’ve taken inside your dome, Erwin”, Levi mutters.

“The contents of that syringe makes people into Titan’s, we understand the royals have it. It can’t be the only way to turn someone, can it? Or that would be a vial per person, and that’s -”

“Yeah”. Levi clicks his tongue. “What’s it matter, though, they are dead, Erwin, all of them”.

Not quite, Erwin thinks, head spinning.

“I mean, there must be more ways”.

Levi stops, gives it thought. “If you were strong enough, and methodical enough, quiet enough, you could inject everyone. I’m so glad, by the way, that you’ve found another question for me, otherwise why would we bother speaking”.

He moves past Erwin, drops his brush in the supply bucket, and heads out into the dimming dusk light. Erwin follows him.

“We should go there”, he says, and feels this frenzy inside him at the thought. “Perhaps there will be signs of how -”

“Do you wanna strap down a titan and look for injection sites?”, Levi mutters, stride long but Erwin is still taller. “Did Hange come up with that?”

They have not even discussed it. It’s not a bad idea, really, Erwin thinks, shakes his head slightly to re-focus. It’s getting harder and harder to focus his thoughts on anything past his desperate need for knowledge.

“It’s less about the injection site and more about signs of struggles. Ragako is a whole village. Someone must have noticed -”

“It’s not a whole village anymore, Erwin”, Levi says, tiredly. “It’s ruins, of course there will be signs of struggles, the titans will have trampled most of it. Really, I just don’t think -”

“We are readying for war, Levi”, Erwin snaps, feverish, stops walking. Levi stops too, shoulders tense. “And we do not know what we are facing. So forgive me for wanting to investigate one of the few places where we know something out of our scope of comprehension has occurred. Since the Reiss’ cave has collapsed and you refuse to share -”

Levi turns to look at him suddenly, gaze steeled off. His jaw is very tense.

“I am not refusing you anything”, he gets out. “I thought we had cleared that up”.

Erwin’s stump aches, his chest too. He hates when he and Levi talk like this; like strangers, or colleagues, superior to soldier. He guesses he brought this on himself, Erwin thinks, he guesses it’s necessary, too. He cannot keep apologising to Levi for doing what’s expected of him. Or what he expects of himself.

“There was a time where you seemed to agree with my plans”, Erwin murmurs, wipes sweat from his brow. Maybe that hurts too, that now that they are so close to truth Levi would suddenly fight him on his every decision. Something flashes across Levi’s gaze.

“I brought down a government for you”, he hisses, steps closer. Erwin has often been the target of Levi’s anger but it still doesn’t feel any less chilling. “I am here for you, Erwin, I -”

“Then I expect you to seriously think about this mission”, Erwin cuts him off. He cannot let himself be distracted like he was yesterday, he thinks, grits his teeth against the headache he can feel coming. “Strategically. We have a meeting tomorrow. I’d like to know your thoughts”.

Levi’s nostrils flare. He gives a salute, mocking.

“I will come with notes, Commander”, he says, teeth gritted. “Don’t worry”.

 

-

 

No meeting takes place. His days in captivity catch up to him. A damp cell, being beaten bloody, a week after losing his arm lead, inevitably, to infection. The skin is tight and itchy, too warm to the touch under the tight wrapped bandages. His intellectual fever actualises into the real thing, poetically. He would laugh at himself if he weren’t in so much pain. He’s recommended a week's bed rest, he won’t take all of that, but he promises himself he’ll take at least 48 hours.

Levi is not the type to say I told you so. He is sat on his knees by the bath he drew Erwin, sleeves rolled to his elbow, wash cloth damp with cool water he’s placed delicately across Erwin’s brow. He’s frustratingly doting, Erwin thinks, given how - with the clarity of hindsight - unreasonable Erwin has been to him. Erwin turns a little, stroking over Levi’s brow with his knuckle. Levi just gazes at him, features impassive. He’s not frowning, his lips are not turned down, he’s just watching Erwin.

“You alright?”, Levi asks, eventually, finger trailing patterns in the water, distractedly.

“Fine”, Erwin promises him.

“You talked a bunch of fucking gibberish earlier”, Levi mutters, uncomfortably.

Yes, he was very feverish. He doubts it was coherent. The reality of his injury has unsettled him, Erwin surmises, it makes something churlish swim in him.

“Well, I apologise”.

Levi gives him a long, far too intuitive look. “I didn’t mean it like that”.

“Of course”, Erwin says, eyelids heavy. “You could not have gone to that meeting on my behalf, it doesn’t look good -”

“Shut the fuck up”, Levi breathes. “Trust you to still be fucking insufferable even with a shot of morphine in you. Can you pass out?”

Erwin laughs, stupidly. The candle-light is playing across Levi’s features romantically.

“In the bath? You’d struggle to move me I fear”.

“I’d hold you under at the rate you’re going”.

Erwin thinks Levi won’t have to hold him at all. His eyelids are heavy, his whole body feels heavy actually, like he can barely lifts himself up. He has to, though, before Levi actually has to move him to bed himself. He should at least be able to do that, he thinks, puts his hand over the edge of the tub.

Levi clicks his tongue next to him, shakes his head.

“Let me”, he says, quietly. “I’ll save your drowning for another time”.

It makes Erwin smile, even as he feels more and more unable to move as Levi helps him up, practically drags him to bed. The sheets are clean, smell of the fancy soap Levi uses on their clothes sometimes. They feel cool against his feverish skin. He lets his head fall against the pillows, lets his eyes close.

“Don’t let me keep you, if you -”

“Shut up”, Levi says again, softer this time. “I can write my reports from here”.

Erwin hums his assent. He is not well enough, or focused enough, to stop himself from having this. Yes, he is selfish, he thinks, a bit deliriously, his head spinning. But he only has so little time left. What’s crueler, keeping Levi close or sending him away?

He doesn’t speak after that, eyes closed, floating between consciousness and unconsciousness. He can hear the scrape of Levi’s pen, soft against the paper. It’s calming, reassuring. Levi is here, so naturally he is safe. Isn’t he?

-

He blinks awake only once through the night, when Levi slips into bed with him. He is almost surprised at that, that Levi would willingly come so close to sickness, disease. But Levi presses himself close, his forehead against Erwin’s shoulder blades, palm against his back. Erwin feels him take a shuddering breath, then another, fingers almost digging into his spine. If Erwin didn’t know him better he’d almost think he is crying. Why would he, Erwin thinks, sluggishly. His infection will pass, like others have.

He is about to ask but his tongue feels too heavy to speak, his eyelids too heavy to open. In the end he just lets sleep take him again.

-

“You know no-one is going to take all this from you”, Levi observes, conversationally.

His fever has broken, he’s perfectly fine, therefore he’s not going to stay in bed. Levi has taken issue, obviously.

“Your well won victory”, Levi continues. He’s cutting an apple into perfect crescent moons for Erwin. He should probably do some actual work, Erwin thinks, instead of watching over him hawkishly. “No-one’s gonna overthrow your monarch as fast as you overthrew theirs, you can go back to bed -”

“God, you sound like Nile”, Erwin murmurs, scouring documents, thumb to the indent of his eyesocket.

Levi’s knife hits the ceramic plate.

“No”, he says. “You’re treating me like you treat him”.

“Semantics”, Erwin waves.

“Don’t do that”, Levi says, harsh. it demands attention, makes Erwin look up. “Don’t treat me like I don’t understand all this, like I’ve not seen it through every step of the way. Don’t tell me I sound like your flippant little friends, or your fucking councilmen you tore about to get here. It's belittling, and it’s not true. It’s actually really fucking unfair, just because you now think I’m holding some truth you feel you’re owed like they all were”.

God, he’s horribly astute, Erwin thinks. His silence is speaking volumes, Erwin knows, but he can’t find any words. The worst part is Levi is not even angry, he’s just saying the words in that flat tone of his.

“If that’s how you feel, I’m sorry”, Erwin says, and feels himself wince. It’s the truth, Levi has just got a knack for getting under his skin.

“How I feel”, Levi echoes. Erwin, he forgets, has that knack too. “That’s -”

“Come here”, Erwin interrupts. He doesn’t want to fight, truly, not again. All they have done since they reunited is fighting. There was a time where with the fighting would come a lot of fucking, too, angry and desperate. Now they are at least more careful with each other, or careful enough to avoid that. “I need your opinion on these routes”.

Levi’s brows lift. He rises from his chair, puts the plate he was cutting his apple on on Erwin’s desk.

“Throwing me a bone? Like including me in your strategy means you trust me again?”

“Of course I trust you”, Erwin says, tiredly, rubs a hand over his forehead. “Levi, please”.

That makes Levi’s gaze soften. It wouldn’t have, if Erwin had his full strength back, he knows, but he is still sick, and weak, and so it does. He guesses it’s probably terrible for him to exploit that. He is just so tired of this constant back and forth, even if it’s mostly his fault, he knows, for not being able to deal with his selfish needs, while also telling himself he won’t have much more time to be selfish at all anyway.

“Fine”, Levi sniffs in, crosses his arms in front of his chest. It’s still endearing, somehow. “Show me what you got”.

Erwin draws his chair back, gestures to Levi to come behind the desk. Levi does, looks over his maps, his notes, gaze flat, sweeping over his scribbles. It used to make Erwin feel so scrutinised, the first few times he had let Levi into his plans, watching him tear apart strategical details Erwin had worked on tirelessly night after night with one single scoff. It’s still intimidating, if he is honest, he cannot help staring at Levi, studying his expression, trying to guess his opinion from the tilt of his jaw, how fast or how slow his eyes are moving, the furrow of his brows.

“So you are going to take it all”, Levi says flatly. “From Mitras to Shiganshina”.

“And beyond, hopefully”, Erwin adds, calm. “I think it’s about time we truly exit these Walls”.

Levi’s face softens further, something like a smile flickering at the side of his features. “Yeah, that would be nice”.

God, he thinks he isn’t coming. He thinks that’s some grand statement. It was more of a collective we, humanity. Not them, explicitly; Levi and Erwin together.

“It’ll be shit without you”, Levi mutters, looking at the maps and sighs softly. “Whose going to inspire those kids to their death, huh?”

Erwin breathes out his nose, keeps his voice level and unaffected. “I suppose I can lead from a horse”.

Levi is very still for a moment. He nods, takes the information in.

“I hope a titan bites your big, inflated, stupid fucking head off”.

“Oh come on, Levi”, Erwin sighs. “Everything we have worked for, dreamed off, do you honestly think I wouldn’t want to be there -”

“You can want all you want. It’s a stupid fucking decision”. Levi’s eyes narrow. “And you know that, you fucking know that. What’s so damn important to you that you’d sacrifice –”

“Why are you so sure I won’t come back?”, Erwin says, tries to keep his voice calm.

“Is that a joke?”, Levi asks, genuinely. “Don’t even consider going. Please, don’t. This is pathetic, you’re being pathetic –”

Erwin barks a laugh he can’t quite keep back. “Oh, I am, am I?”

“Fuck you”, Levi snarls. “I thought you were better than this. Laid up in bed sick with fever and planning to be on the fucking front lines a day later -”

“My father didn’t die for me to sit behind a desk while the truth is told -” It breaks out his chest, far too raw.

Levi’s eyes are incandescent suddenly. “Your father didn’t die for his son to throw his fucking life away –”

“He’d have wanted -”

“He’d have wanted you to live, Erwin. He’d be fucking horrified. Fathers want their sons to live –”

“And you, Levi, just know so much about what fathers want for their sons when - forgive me - I’m fairly certain you never had one”.

Levi’s jaw snaps shut, his eyes going very cold. “Don’t speak to me like that. I fight for you. I fight for you”. He presses his index finger hard against Erwin’s chest, right above his heart. “So don’t”.

“i’m sorry”, he says, instantly, eyes squeezing shut. “I’m sorry. That was unfair -”

“I’ve seen a lot of fathers lose children. You have too. Did any of them give a fuck why or how. You’d have hung to see him proved right? Well; he was right, Erwin. What does it change?”

He is still gone, and it still hurts everyday. It might have calcified but it’s still so utterly raw. He wants to see it, he wants to see it all; every story his father told him at night, every image he showed him from his books, every little detail that is still burned behind Erwin’s retinas so many years later. Of course Levi doesn’t get it, doesn’t get how important this is to him. They are still dreams, to him, not a reality he has seen printed and described, not a future he listened to wide-eyed and hopeful.

“It changes everything”, he says, and his throat feels scratched raw. “It changes everything. He was killed for the sin of knowing and I won’t stand still while everything he already knew is just beginning to be unveiled -”

Levi’s jaw is so tense Erwin thinks it might snap, his eyes terrible.

“You think you will see more of it if you run to your death? You have more chances if you just stay -”

“You said it yourself, Levi”, Erwin cuts in. “Who else is going to lead those kids to their deaths? They listen to me. I have done this, I have orchestrated this, I will see it to its end. I need to. I need to be there when -”

Something flashes across Levi’s gaze, angry and sorrowful at the same time.

“Oh I see”, he says, quietly. “You can’t stand the idea of someone else getting there first”.

Erwin’s jaw snaps shut. He stares at Levi, chest heaving. He should have expected to be called out so explicitly, for his thoughts to be laid out so naked and raw.

“My whole life has been leading to this point”, he says, softer, suddenly. “How can I let it go?”

Levi’s eyes squeeze shut, like he cannot bear to hear more. The sight makes Erwin feel an indescribable sort of pain, even if it’s all because of him, even if he knows exactly how to fix it. He watches as Levi lets his head drop slightly, fingers digging into the side of his desk, chest constricting and expanding.

“Why do you never fucking listen to me?”, he asks.

“I do -”

“You don’t”, Levi snaps, turns around to face him properly. “You really don’t. And I wish you would, Erwin, I wish you -” His voice is trembling slightly. “I just wish you -”

“Levi”, Erwin tries. “I want your opinion on this, I want your thoughts on the routes -”

“Shut up”, Levi snarls, suddenly in his face. “I am so tired of hearing you speak”.

 

He grabs Erwin’s collar, brings him closer, his other hand in Erwin’s hair so he can tilt his head up, kiss him deep and angry and hard. This time Erwin can feel the desperation in it, the harshness, the implicit request to change his mind. He won’t, but he can at least give Levi this. He can give Levi hope now, in this short period they have left, He can let himself hope too, that the desperate resilience that Levi kisses him with now will - against all odds- bring him home. They are both allowed to pretend, he tells himself.

“Touch me”, he breathes against Levi’s lips, hand running into his hair, cupping the back of his skull.

Levi gasps against him, hands slipping under his jacket, roaming his shoulders, pushing under the buttons to get his finger tips against skin.

“I want -” Erwin stops himself. He shouldn’t ask, really, demand anymore from Levi. He should give -

“What?”, Levi murmurs against his lips, plaintive. “What? Anything, Erwin”.

It shudders through him, just how eager he is. Erwin doesn’t have the words though, cant describe how close he needs Levi. How he wants to feel him everywhere, to know that his strength is Erwin’s, that Levi is good and true enough to carry them both through this.

In the end he can’t say anything, just shakes his head and buries it’s against Levi’s collar.

“Alright”, Levi breathes, his fingers stroking against his scalp. “Let’s go to bed, huh?”

Yeah, Erwin thinks, he’d really like that.

Levi leads. His hands have a tremble in them as he undoes the buckles around Erwin’s shirt. There is need under his touch that’s scalding, but he doesn’t rush a thing. Levi is good like that, patience like some raging inferno inside him, ever burning. His fingers drag down Erwin’s sides, a caress that’s heavy enough to leave red marks in its wake.

The pleasure is almost aching in its intensity. Levi’s mouth is leaving careful marks below his collar bone, possessive. Erwin’s back arches, his hand finding Levi’s shoulder. Levi’s tongue laps across his lips, teasing and yet so gentle. Levi is terribly good with his mouth, soft and warm given how sharp it can be. He tied a cherry into a knot with his tongue in his first year with the scouts, back when he seemed untouchable, when Erwin would go to bed and bite his shirt to keep his voice down, fist his cock and think about him. That first year before Maria fell was so fraught and hateful. He cannot marry the Levi he met then to the one who is kissing him now; gentle and empathetic, who cares so deeply it terrifies him.

“More”, Erwin whispers.

Levi bites hard into his shoulder. Erwin can feel the almost feral frustration in the indent of each tooth. Erwin’s eyes have to squeeze shut, his whole body tensing. Levi’s weight is braced carefully, forearm planted beside Erwin’s head, the other hand splayed warm and steady against his ribs. His face is close enough that Erwin can feel his breath, can feel how uneven it is. There is almost no anger in him now, stripped down to something rawer. It makes his hands gentler, even as his hold remains firm, as if he is afraid that if he loosens it for even a second Erwin will slip through his fingers entirely. His touch is soothing, make Erwin’s muscles relax, unclench, his shoulders sinking into the mattress. The constant, gnawing vigilance inside his chest eases just enough to hurt.

Levi bends down, presses his forehead briefly to Erwin’s. His breath shudders there, eyes squeezed shut and lip trembling. Erwin can’t help but stare at him, his hand coming up in instinct, running his fingers through his undercut. Levi’s brow furrow in pain before he presses their lips together again, kisses him slower now, mouth warm and insistent but careful. Erwin can feel the quiet desperation behind it, a plea without words. He lets himself open to it, lets himself be moved, lets the tension bleed out of him with each breath. Levi’s hand slides up, cradling the side of Erwin’s face, thumb brushing under his eye where the skin is thin and tired. Erwin turns his head into the touch, helplessly, groans softly when Levi lowers himself fully, chest to chest, his heartbeat thudding steadily against Erwin’s.

Levi exhales against him, lifts his head just enough to look at him properly.

“I wish I could just keep you here”, he says, croaked. His hand stays at Erwin’s face, as if checking that he is still present. “You arrogant prick”.

Erwin swallows, nods once. Levi could have worse words for him, he knows, and they would be right. His fingers are still stroking through Levi’s hair, nails against his scalp, making him shiver, making his eyelashes flutter.

“I am -”

Sorry, he wants to say, but the words don’t come out and Levi is kissing him again anyway, harder and deeper. He is right, Erwin thinks, it would be cruel to say that. It would be useless. Levi takes his lower lip between his teeth, pulls gently once before pulling back, shifting his weight again as he sits up, reaches back and tugs his jacket off in one efficient motion, tossing it aside without looking. His fingers work at the buttons of his shirt next, hands trembling slightly. Erwin watches him do it, something tight and aching blooming in his chest.

When they meet skin on skin they both groan, fingers trailing desperate patterns over muscle, flat palmed and exploratory. He tries not to wince at how Levi is touching him, how intense and how sorrowful. Erwin can’t handle it. He just wants, selfishly, to be pushed out his head, to live in Levi’s instead, where Erwin is his steadfast Commander, who may in the end listen to Levi’s council, because it’s what’s best for humanity and Levi’s sense of what’s best was molded by Erwin. Soon, so soon, Levi will see him for who he truly is.

“Levi -” He gasps, fingers gripping his shoulder, his neck. Levi is lost in him, hands and teeth and tongue, nose pressed against his pulse, body arched above him. He wants them closer, wants Levi inside him, all around him, like that could make him understand. Because if anyone could understand, maybe it would be Levi, in the end.

Levi presses close to him, kisses his temples, down his cheek as his fingers wrestle with Erwin’s trousers, drag them down. His teeth graze his chin, his hand stroking the outline of his cock. He’s achingly hard, it makes him buck up against Levi’s slender little fingers.

Erwin’s hand moves across his bedside dresser, fingers hooking the drawer handle as he watches Levi between his legs, back arched and hands splayed across his stomach. He hands the small vial to Levi, watches as he moves in these practised motion, settles back on his heels to uncap it. Erwin takes his wrist, guides it between his thighs. As dark as the ring of steely blue around Levi’s pupils is, Erwin can still see them dilate.

Levi’s cheeks flush slightly, pretty and overwhelmed. They don’t do this often, mostly because he thinks Levi sees this, here, between them, as the one place he can relinquish control. Erwin likes it, likes unspooling him like a taut wire until he’s gasping, and he can admit to himself, with the passing of time, that having Levi under him soft and doe-eyed made him feel like he was breaking in some untameable wild horse. It used to make him preen right where he wanted it, used to make him feel like someone deserving to lead. He needed that, when he was younger and power-hungry, thrust into a role too heavy way too fast. And Levi needed that too, needed to feel soft and human and small, not the legend Erwin was building him to be, not the freak of nature whose shoulders the fate of humanity rested upon. They have morphed into something different, through the years, something gentler, kinder, more reciprocal, maybe, or maybe just more honest.

Levi is staring at him intensely as he touches him, as he runs the pad of his finger softly over his hole, gaze so focused it almost makes Erwin flinch. His lips are parted, red from the kissing, sweat beginning to wet his hair, his fringe sliding into his eyes. Erwin reaches out to move his hair away from his face, to cup his cheek, stroke under his eyes, over the bridge of his nose. He can hear how heavily they are both breathing, can feel Levi’s breath stutter against him when he pulls his bottom lip slightly, run his hand down his neck. His gaze goes darker, hazier.

“Breathe with me”, Levi tells him, soft, and only when Erwin obeys he realises how tensely he was holding himself, how tight all his muscles were. His breath hitches when Levi slides a finger in, eyes squeezing shut. Levi kisses the furrow of his brow, his cheeks, the corner of his lips.

“You alright?”, he breathes. Erwin can feel how carefully he is holding himself, how slow he is going despite his arousal, pressed hard and hot against him

Erwin nods, turns his head into the pillow. “Keep going”, he gets out. He is not sure he could say much more. Levi kisses him softly, starts adding another finger.

Erwin lets himself feel it. He focuses on Levi’s breathing, the weight of him, the quiet competence of his hands. Levi opens him with patience that borders on reverence, slow and steady, giving him time, always giving him time. It makes something in Erwin’s chest ache sharply enough that he has to bite it back, swallow around it.

He thinks, absurdly, this is what it would be like to stay.

The thought is unbearable. Levi’s name leaves his mouth without permission, rough and unguarded. Levi hushes him, coaxes him open with murmured instructions and the press of his forehead to Erwin’s shoulder. Erwin’s fingers dig into the sheets, then into Levi’s back, clinging without thinking.

Levi has three fingers in him, slender and tapered but deft and searching. It’s driving Erwin feral, makes sweat break across his brow and his moans come out uneven and raspy. It’s intense, intense because it’s Levi and Levi is intense. It feels so raw though, so horribly vulnerable Erwin almost wants to shy away from it but he forces himself to stay present, let himself be for Levi.

Levi moves him around with an uncanny ease. It probably shouldn’t be possible, given how much bigger Erwin is, even if Levi was strong like normal people are. He remembers, vaguely, a conversation they had years ago, back when everything Levi said was like catching a butterfly in your palm. Erwin had been drinking, and they had been talking about strength and Levi had said, simply, that it happened all at once, that one moment he was weak and the next he wasn’t. Erwin had agreed, at the time, because he had sort of presumed Levi was talking abstractly. He had, also, had a moment, standing over his father’s grave where he’d realised he would have to be strong, when before he had been weak. He thought Levi had meant that life changed, and so Levi changed. Maybe it was much more literal -

Levi’s fingers crook, deep and unforgiving. It makes white hot pleasure shudder through him, up his spine, scattering his thoughts.

“Pay attention to me”, he lilts in a rasp.

I am, Erwin thinks. He doesn’t do anything else. God, there is so much he still wants from Levi, time and love and truth. It’s enough to make him falter, if only in this bed, together, touch so hot it feels like the room is melting around them.

Levi’s head drops down, his lips brushing Erwin’s cock. It makes him gasp desperately, his hand falling to Levi’s hair. Thighs tightening around Levi, who fits so well between them. There is sweat down his chest, stinging in his eyes, these desperate sounds pushing at his throat, slipping out.

“God, Levi -” He gasps. “I’ll -”

Levi sucks him into his mouth, laps lazily around the tip of his cock. It brings him right to the edge, thighs tense and toes curling. Levi drops him out his mouth cruelly. The pleasure ebbs to something more manageable, even if it claws inside him insatiably. Levi licks over his stomach, tastes the sweat and pre-come there. It makes Erwin shudder, his abdominal muscles clenching. When Levi’s tongue moves down again, licking around his cock, his balls, Erwin pulls on his hair, makes his head raise.

“Enough”, he gets out. “Please”.

Levi’s gaze softens, even if he is still a feral dark thing, eyes all black and lips wet with spit. He crawls up Erwin’s body, lines himself up, close enough Erwin can feel the pressure of his cock as it’s about to enter him. Levi is holding himself up over him, cheeks flushed and sweat down his neck. Erwin can’t resist the urge to lift slightly and kiss him there, taste the salt of his skin under his lips. Levi shivers slightly, pushes him down gently again so their eyes lock.

“Erwin”, he says, and his voice sounds so choked. “Erwin”.

Erwin doesn’t know if he wants to say more and can’t, but he gets it. He arches slightly when Levi pushes inside him, their lips dragging against each other, breaths mingling. Levi’s eyes squeeze shut, his forehead dropping to Erwin’s. What is there to say, really? There are no words for this, none that Erwin could conjure to describe it, much less to explain it. He lets his eyes close too, his lips drop open, overwhelmed. He could ask Levi to keep him here, to not let him go, to keep him pinned and safe in this bed and he would do it, he knows he would. He would not let Erwin go, would make sure he is held and warm and full like he is now. With Levi over him, with Levi inside him, the knowledge makes him shudder, full-bodied, makes his fingers clutch at Levi’s shoulder, his neck, his nape. Levi is holding still above him, letting him adjust, his breath so affected, arms trembling even if Erwin knows it can’t be from tiredness.

“God”, he chokes. “You feel -”

Levi kisses him again, claims his mouth almost aggressively, like he is pouring all of his frustration and desperation there instead of fucking Erwin hard and fast. He kisses him long and deep, leaves him gasping when he pulls back, and Erwin can see the spark of anger in his eyes, the betrayal. He thinks Levi could hit him right now and he wouldn’t care, really, he would understand. He almost wants him to.

He moves in considerate little thrusts even as his body bows with the force of the restraint. Erwin bucks a little, Levi makes an animal sound, barely human.

“Move”, he orders him. Levi obeys, takes for once. Erwin watches his eyes flutter with pleasure, lashes fanning his cheeks. They find a rhythm, they are good at that. Levi has pulled him forward, hands on the thick muscle of his thighs as he fucks into him. For a moment he lets himself pretend, under the intensity of the pleasure, lets himself imagine that the stress Levi is fucking out of him is the residual stress of mission completed, that maria is retaken and Erwin has his truth; nebulous but completed. He lets the low, dwindling light, be the night of their return. Levi would take care of him, just like this, and afterwards Erwin could rest, finally.

Levi is on the knife-edge of abandon, Erwin can feel it. He doesn’t think Levi knows the strength he’s holding him with anymore, his eyes screwed shut and his lips parted, which is good, because Erwin wants bruises, wants marks. He wants Levi as sweat soaked and helpless to this as he is, wants them to feel the raw and vicious human need in them both. He wants to be weak, and selfish, and in the end, he wants to choose this here between them. The brutal, rational part of him, where the thousands of blood soaked hands Erwin’s sent to his death claw for attention and retribution and promise, that part knows in the morning he won’t care about this moment. That’s worse, in a way, he thinks.

“Erwin”, Levi grits, hoarse. His hands have moved from his hips, come to his face, even if his fucking hasn’t relented. Maybe it can’t, Erwin thinks, maybe Levi is just starved for this. He’s wiping tears from Erwin’s cheeks, kissing at the wetness Erwin can feel there. Yes, he supposes, people do cry when they are overwhelmed. He probably has a right to the tears, after everything, facing everything, doesn’t he? Does he?

“Please -”, Levi chokes. “Fuck, Erwin -”

He sounds like an exposed nerve. Erwin’s done that to him, is doing that to him, and will continue till one of them feels nothing at all. Till there is only one of them left to feel.

The thought hits him low and vicious, right where Levi is moving inside him, steady and relentless. Erwin’s hand comes up to drag him closer, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails biting into skin. Levi’s name breaks out of him again, rougher this time, his hips faltering for a moment when he pulls back to look at Erwin better, to see his face properly. Whatever is written there must be too much, because something across his own expression fractures too, raw and desperate. His hands frame Erwin’s jaw, thumbs brushing helplessly at the wetness still clinging beneath his eyes.

“Keep looking at me”, Levi breathes, like Erwin could do anything else. He couldn’t if he wanted to, and he almost wants to, because Levi looks wrecked, the devotion in his eyes makes Erwin’s stomach twist painfully, makes the pleasure crest sharper, more unbearable, building tight and incandescent, coiling low in his body. It’s too much, almost; too much sensation, too much history, too much future pressing in at the edges of the room. Levi’s rhythm deepens, draws something helpless and needy out of Erwin’s throat.

“I’m -” Erwin chokes, the words dissolving before they can form.

Levi’s forehead presses to his, breath hot and uneven. “I know”, he gets out. “I have got you. I have got you”.

And he sounds so desperate, like he is trying to convince himself of this too, that he will keep having Erwin like this, more open and pliant, more vulnerable, not the stern, cold man he finds on the field. He would like that, Erwin thinks, hazily, he would like that so much. The realisation he won’t get this again hits him hard and fast, tears through him white-hot and blinding and yet cannot stop the pleasure, his back arching off the mattress, a broken sound ripped from his chest before he can contain it. His fingers claw into Levi’s skin as he comes, pleasure cresting so sharply it borders on pain. He spills between them, breath stuttering, vision swimming.

Levi pushes back a little, like he’s going to pull out. Erwin can’t bear it, it’s too horribly final. He catches his arm, pulls him down and wraps it around him. Levi lets out a choked little moan against his chest, shoulders shaking as he sinks back inside Erwin. His movements are so gentle, even now, even on the complete verge of abandon.

“Erwin -” He’s breathing, the words wet against his chest, right against his heart. He holds Levi tighter, as though he won’t ever let go. Levi makes this wounded sound, barely human, as his hips speed up, lose rhythm and fuck into him. Levi is trembling, his whole body taut, his nails digging into the skin around Erwin’s collarbones. Erwin’s breathing heavy with him, tilting his head to kiss him across the temple, the cheeks. Levi’s head moves with him, his lips open and his eyes half shut, brows drawn together. He looks sickened by his own pleasure. It’s a look he catches on Levi a lot, when he’s right on the edge.

Erwin shifts his hips up, watches Levi with rapt attention as his jaw drops, as his cock drives deeper and his hands tighten, his speed picking up without him meaning too.

“That’s it”, Erwin gasps. “Just like that, I want -”

Levi kisses him messily, till there is drool down his chin, till they are just breathing the same air, lips pressed together. Levi comes like that, pressed flat against his chest and deep inside him, sharing drool and sweat, twitching like an animal. Erwin loves it, revels in the feeling of him inside him, the ownership. Levi pulls out, turns away for a moment, shoulders shaking.

Erwin watches the hard lines of his shoulder blades, the thin line of his spine above the skin. He reaches out, strokes down the skin as Levi brings his knees up, digs his hands through his hair. He watches as Levi breathes out, heavy, and then turns back to him.

His nose is pink, a flush under his cheekbones and heaviness to his swallows. He watches as Levi sucks on his cheek, eyes flitting to the ceiling once. He’s trying not to cry, Erwin thinks hollowly. Erwin lets his hand fall to his side, the dip of his waist, rest warm against Levi’s skin as he feels each breath as it drags in and out of him. Levi’s gaze is somewhere faraway, fixed on nothing, his body still trembling slightly from his release.

“Levi”, Erwin says, gently, gentler than he has been all night. “Come here”.

He wants to hold him close all night. Levi’s skin is breaking out in goosebumps, like the temperature has suddenly dropped. He shakes his head, only just.

“Don’t”, he gets out.

“Don’t what?”, Erwin asks, softly.

Levi lays down, heads on the pillow, eyes closed. His breath is still shaky, cheeks still flushed. He is not giving Erwin his back but he is not getting close, either. Erwin watches the creases of his forehad, the sign of his teeth on his lip. He cannot stop himself from reaching out slowly, caress his cheek. Levi leans into it like a flower, even as he looks sickened with the action. There is silence, for a while.

“I cannot defend myself from this”, Levi says in the end. His voice is choked. “I cannot just let you go”.

Erwin stills, hand cupping Levi’s cheek, thumb resting just beneath his eye. He can feel the faint tremor there, the way Levi is holding himself together by force alone. It makes something inside him ache so sharply it leaves him breathless.

“I know”, Erwin whispers, the admission scraping on the way out. He has always know, somehow, that Levi was tied to him. He thinks Levi knows it too, he thinks it’s what his uncle told him, wounded and dying, maybe with his last breaths. “I am sorry”.

Levi’s lashes flutter but don’t open. His mouth twists, like he wants to say something else and can’t find the shape for the words. The space between them feels enormous despite the inches. Erwin can feel it stretching, pulling, threatening to tear.

He wants to close it. God, he wants to.

His hand slides from Levi’s cheek to the back of his neck, fingers threading into the short hair there, warm and familiar. He draws slow, absent circles with his thumb, the way he knows Levi likes, the way that usually coaxes him closer without words. Levi’s hand twitches where it rests between them, then slowly lifts, hovering for a moment before settling against Erwin’s side. A dull, spreading ache fills him, heavy and inescapable. He memorises the weight of Levi’s hand, the warmth of his skin, the faint rasp of his breath against the pillow. He holds himself still so he won’t frighten him off, won’t make whatever softened pain is hanging between them worse.

“Levi”, he says eventually, barely a whisper. “It won’t be for a month at least”.

“Four weeks”, Levi murmurs hollowly, his eyes still closed. “Twenty eight days”.

It sends a cold dread through Erwin. He doesn’t want to die, he thinks, and he wants to shake it into Levi, tell him desperately and weakly, of course he doesn’t want to die. He thinks something like resignation is settling across Levi, he watches it in how his shoulders drop. Then something physical moves through him, a complete rejection of the idea that this is okay, that he can accept it. Erwin watches as it crests across his features, how he has to sit up, head hung between his knees for a moment. It’s violent in its intensity. He lets out a ragged sort of noise, like he’s just been sick, gutted from the inside out.

Erwin feels almost afraid to touch him. This is going to be the rest of their lives, he thinks, because the chances, no - the luck - that they could both come home after injury and failure has plagued their last few missions is slim. Erwin is a gambler, even he wouldn’t bet on the odds of them both coming home.

Maybe Levi will die, he thinks, with this useful and clinical dissociation. Levi might save him, let him see the future at the expense of himself, and Erwin would honour him and love him, keep his memory, wake up alone, forget his smell, the sound of his voice, a day would come when the grief wasn’t the only thing he thought about, where Levi wasn’t in his thoughts at all. He is selfish, he knows, because that’s not a fate he can handle. Levi could, he thinks, because he’s strong.

He looks at him. Levi’s gaze is focused on the wall, the tip of his nose pinker, his thumb between his teeth, biting hard. The image distorts, wet around the edges, Levi swims in front of him, clear with his blinks. He shouldn’t be crying, he thinks, and yet. Levi looks over at him, his own tears falling over his lashline at the sight, his brows drawing together and his lips pursing.

Neither acknowledge it, nor reach out to touch the other.

“I’m going to shower”, Levi mutters, once a few tears have spotted the sheets underneath him, one trailing a pattern down his pale cheek.

“Alright”, Erwin says, and his voice is croaked. He sniffs in, clears his throat. “I’ll make tea”.

“Thanks”, Levi mumbles.

He hears him in the bathroom, hears him sniff in wetly. Erwin feels numb, a spindly, sick sort of numb, like panic without the heat. He just stares at the pool of sheets where Levi was, strokes the place where his head was on the pillow. It’s still warm, still smelling of him. He tries to imagine Levi doing the same and cannot quite picture it, cannot picture him allowing himself to be so sentimental. Erwin would, he knows, he is already. If he squints he can make out the dip of Levi’s waist, the muscles of his legs. For a moment, just for a moment, he thinks no sea, no land, no truth could be worth this. All of this.

He sniffs in, sits up straight. His hand impresses on the pillow, removes the imprint of Levi’s head. Pulling himself up, always pulling himself up; moving forward and forward and forward. Right now he doesn’t want to move at all.

Levi comes out of the bathroom, hair wet from the shower, pulled back so his forehead is showing. He is so handsome, Erwin thinks, sort of distractedly. The pillow is warm under his hand. Levi is in his shirt and pants already, is doing up his belt. Their eyes meet.

“Didn’t you say you were going to make tea?”, Levi asks, hoarse but composed. “What are you doing still there?”

Still here is where he wants to stay, Erwin thinks, absurdly. Maybe if he stays as still as possible time won’t move forward, maybe if he stays in this bed, imprint on imprint, sheet warm and stained with sweat - maybe then they will still have a month, four weeks, twenty-eight days. He has never wanted to stay still as badly as he does now.

He pushes himself to standing, breaks the spell. No longer still, no longer there. The pillow lifts, free of his weight; later Levi will change the sheets.

“You are right”, Erwin says. His voice is steady. “Let me get it for you”.

He steps forward. One minute down.