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Erwin lowers his head and starts with a kiss.
There is nothing particularly exciting about Levi’s boots, or kissing them. Erwin does it on a whim knowing Levi will find it amusing. His lips touch unyielding leather, pressing against the curve of the toe before drawing around to the ankle. The surface warms to his breath.
And this would do nothing for him at all if he didn’t know who the boots belonged to, who was sitting in the chair watching him.
“Are you really gonna leave lip marks all over my boots, Erwin?”
He looks up, thoughts arrested by the image conjured with Levi’s words. Suffice to say his first idea is not to wipe the boot down with a cloth. Even if that’s not what Levi intended, it sends a shudder down Erwin’s spine and—yes, he thinks he might enjoy the alternative.
Erwin is naked at Levi’s feet but all at once the air in the room feels pleasant and warm.
“Would you still notice if the kiss was around the back, on one of the heels?” Erwin says, going back down on his forearms.
Levi watches him carefully. “I will now.”
“I promise I will never leave lip marks on the back of your boots.” Unsure what to expect, Erwin parts his lips and touches the leather with his tongue. A sharp inhale from the chair above encourages him to continue.
The boot doesn’t taste of anything in particular. Honestly it’s already spotless. Erwin doubts Levi has been outside since the last time they were wiped down, though he hasn’t polished them yet either. It could almost be like they were prepared just for Erwin.
Just for him. Erwin closes his eyes and kneels forward, putting more of himself into the act than just lapping with his tongue. A small moan escapes him, loud despite a mouth full of boot.
The chair creaks and Erwin feels Levi leaning forward to watch. He mouths openly along the side of the boot and decides he prefers that, being able to feel the solidness of Levi’s foot on the other side.
Levi’s breathing gains a deeper, excited edge to it.
“Well. That’s one way to do it.” Levi sounds surprised but approving, fond and hungry in equal measure. “Commander Smith, born natural bootlicker. Though I'll say you sure know how to make it seem appealing,” Levi says, heat seeping into his voice. “The look on your face right now, Erwin.”
That’s really all he needs to say. Erwin gives a low appreciative hum around the leather.
The entire venture would sputter instantly if he didn’t think Levi was enjoying it as well, but judging from the ragged breathing above him, Levi is very much enjoying it. Erwin thinks he’s getting a sense of how this is meant to work. He expected debasement yet somehow it isn’t. It’s easy, like kissing. Like his regard for Levi can simply encompass all that is his, down to the boots he wears. If not his boots, Erwin would kiss every strap, every cable, every blade, and it wouldn’t matter much between them. They would all be Levi’s.
But he wants Levi more. The boots are good, maddening—something to throw himself against but he can never be closer than that. Now and then he’ll hear himself make a sound more like a whine, and Levi swears softly to himself and there comes the rustle of clothes being unfastened. It sparks something off in Erwin. He leans with his whole body, panting hard and scraping with his teeth. He wants Levi to hear, needs Levi to feel him there, to feel what Erwin is doing.
A hand briefly touches his shoulder. Levi says nothing but Erwin’s shoulders go loose from the reassurance. He sits up, making his way up to Levi’s knee. The leather there is cool and untouched. Finally Erwin opens his eyes to watch Levi at the same time.
He isn’t surprised, exactly. Levi is slouched in the chair, trousers open, and stroking himself in steady pulls. But Erwin’s whole body flushes at the look on his face. The look on your face right now, Erwin thinks. Levi isn’t watching Erwin’s mouth, or the boot. He’s watching Erwin.
After a moment Erwin drops his eyes and reaches between Levi's legs. “I can—”
“No.” Levi swats him away. “Put your hands down.”
Calmly, Erwin puts his hands down.
It is low chair. If he rose on his knees, Erwin could touch his forehead to Levi’s shoulder. With one of Levi’s boots between his thighs, Erwin imagines, and then tries not to think of it. Of dogs on the legs of their masters, of frantic half-clothed fucks and youthful encounters, being too desperate to care about anything besides getting off.
Some of the thoughts linger, and Erwin moans. He doesn’t need to reach Levi’s shoulder. He curves his body around until his head is in Levi’s lap and he can nose between his fingers.
“Ever the strategist,” Levi says and cups the back of his head to let him.
Erwin starts with a kiss.
More than anything the boot made him hungry for this. He licks and licks, gorging himself. This is better than leather or kneeling to kiss a blade. Having Levi’s cock in his mouth is—hot and familiar, a solid weight on his tongue; the taste and feel of him is immediate, with no obstacle between them.
Levi’s leg shifts and the toe of a boot nudges behind Erwin’s balls. Erwin’s mind seems to flicker, impossible arousal robbing him of thought. He can still feel the slick from his mouth on the leather as Levi slides the boot up, pinning Erwin’s cock against his stomach.
It occurs to him that it might be a reward, a kindness for taking such care with Levi’s boots to begin with. He groans and spreads his thighs, swallowing more of Levi’s cock in the same motion, needing more of him. More of the salt and musk and heat, the silky give of skin that he can have now instead of cold tough leather.
And, needing more, he reaches forward on some instinct, reaching for Levi, but he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Levi solves that in a flash of improvisation. He seizes Erwin’s wrists and pins them, holding Erwin secure—and it’s perfect, just like that, sending a rush of heat across Erwin's skin that makes his cock throb and leaves him lightheaded, ragged panting noises like sobs in his throat on every breath because it’s good, it’s so good and Levi has him now.
Levi toes up against him again, insistent and pressing with the sole of the boot, and Erwin comes trying to thrust against leather. He moans around Levi's cock, and Levi shudders at the vibrations. He releases one of Erwin’s wrists to clutch his shoulder.
The hand exerts slight pressure, as though Levi expects him to want to stop. Instead, when he’s recovered enough to push back, Erwin settles around Levi. He grips Levi with his free arm, keeping him in place and continuing with soft enthusiastic hums. He uses the swirl with his tongue that has yet to fail, and Levi makes beautiful sounds over his head, startled hisses and not fair sentiments, raising his hips and writhing in Erwin’s hold as though restraining himself from shoving Erwin down and fucking him until they both forget their names. But restraining himself nonetheless. Letting Erwin have this.
A palm clamps over the short hairs on his neck, tightening. “Erwin,” Levi says, and that’s all there is.
Erwin knows Levi better than to let him come on his own clothes, especially while he’s still wearing them. It’s a dislike Levi sometimes bizarrely seems to forget he has. Erwin nuzzles closer and swallows, making Levi endure extra cleaning licks and pressure afterwards despite sensitivity.
He sits back when he’s ready, sliding down to rest his cheek on Levi's thigh. One of Levi’s hands remains gently closed around Erwin’s wrist. They watch each other and catch their breath.
“It’s my opinion,” Erwin says, feeling relaxed, “that your footwear exceeds all military maintenance standards. You’re an example to us all.”
“I’ll eat the other boot if there’s a line in the manual about drooling on your subordinate’s feet.” Levi brushes a finger across Erwin’s forehead, setting strands of hair back in place. “Does your jaw hurt?”
“Not so much.” His knees might have, had they not put Levi’s cloak on the floor as padding before they started. That will need to be washed.
“Oh good.” Erwin feels a boot tap on his come-streaked stomach. “Because it looks like you went and got my boots dirty again.”