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Levi should be doing his paperwork, hunched over in the dim lamplight, scribbling down figures and scratching out his name. He should have a headache, sipping his tea during short breaks and closing his eyes wishing for sleep to take him right there on his desk. He should be doing perfectly productive, honest, respectable, things.
Not breathing in Eren, heart pounding, eyes unfocused, mouth suspiciously dry. Not refusing to say a word as the boy stood there, body tense and the light pressure of his hand almost uncertain in the way it rested on his shoulder.
Because Levi could feel it. Could always feel it.
(Insatiable, Levi’s body was on edge, screaming for more.)
He could sense the way Eren’s eyes would follow after him and the lost look he had when Levi sent him away after delivering his tea. Always standing there, body hesitant and those gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes pleading.
Levi was no stranger to the affection of his subordinates. He had found early on that his skills and position alone were enough to attract admiring eyes. Erwin called it “flattering.”
Levi hated it.
Hated the way their eyes would light up as the idealized version of him flew around slaying every titan in their head. Unbeatable. Unstoppable. Unrealistic. And Levi would either have to witness that image shatter within a few excursions or watch them die, Levi unable to save them.
Levi would never live up to his image of the strongest and he cursed Erwin for every day he lived with the title.
At first, Levi believed Eren would be one of those soldiers, lusting and yearning for a version of him that didn’t exist. It was no secret the kid idolized him, ‘hero worship’ as Hange had called it once, and so Levi waited for that veneer to tear. For Eren to see him for who he really was. For the kid’s crush to vanish. Short lived and fleeting, as a kid’s crush should.
Except that never happened.
Eren just kept getting closer, persistently showing up every night to talk, to bring him tea, to sit in his presence and read under the pretense of needing a quiet space. Each and every night Levi found it more and more captivating, watching him reel in his normal passion and aggression as he curled up in Levi’s room like he belonged there.
(He could. If Levi let him, he could belong there.)
Somehow, Levi found himself caught in Eren’s orbit.
It was vast and inescapable and oh so tortuous knowing Levi could reach out and touch him, have him, at any moment. Even worse, Eren would let him. More than let him. Thank him.
And now, with Eren’s hand resting so gently on his shoulder, Levi found himself ashamedly hoping that maybe now was that moment.
Deep inside him, guilt bubbled up, telling him to stop this. It was just one touch, but it was too much. Eren was young and innocent. Vulnerable. Levi, as old and broken as he was, shouldn’t take advantage of that. Should send him away and save him from the poisonous touch of a dirty old man like himself.
Levi was suddenly rendered helpless as Eren squeezed, his fingers pressing into his muscles with a delicate sort of care. His breath tickled his ear, his skin warm and comforting and inviting, and Levi didn’t even know how they ended up in this position but all he could do was be still and wait.
(But oh how he wanted the youthful, smooth skin under his time and battle scarred fingers.)
“Captain,” Eren whispered, voice trembling.
Levi could envision the look on his face. The biting of his bottom lip, the wide, disbelieving eyes. Maybe even a faint flush, like the one he’d taken to wearing when Levi addressed him.
He closed his eyes as if that would rid him of the vision. It didn’t.
“Eren.”
“Captain,” Eren said again, repeating himself, the deep breath in as he steeled himself deafening. “You, uh, seem tense. Can I give you a massage?”
It sounded like a line from one of those smutty novels sold in the back corner of bookstores, and Levi’s lips twitched into a fleeting, bitter smile. He really was a dirty old man.
But Eren was innocent, and what could a massage hurt?
(Dirty, dirty old man.)
Levi nodded.
Both of Eren’s hands were on him almost immediately, as though he had been waiting. Which he probably had. So hopeful. Optimistic. A light like the sun, burning bright and ripping through the darkness. His heart ached for him.
(Levi wanted to warm himself in front of the flames of Eren’s soul, greedily drink in his vitality and heat.)
Eren’s hands were firm and sure on his shoulders, methodical as he worked out kinks that had been years in the making, and Levi let his body relax.
His pen fell from his hand, ink blot staining the paper he’d been working on, and he leaned back. He could practically feel the way Eren’s breath hitched, and wondered what his face was like now. Probably slack with amazement, unbelievably sweet in a way that would make Levi want to give in.
He kept his eyes closed.
Eren’s fingers dug in and rubbed in circles. Loosened muscles and took away a tightness that had built up for far too long. Levi let himself fall into the sensation, take this moment for himself, and he let out a happy hum. Low. Practically a moan.
Everything stopped.
For the moment Eren’s fingers paused, Levi considered that he may have fucked up. That he may had taken it too far. But then the massage continued and- fuck, his hands were trembling.
This was so far out of line that Levi couldn’t even see it.
“Sir, does this… hurt?”
Bless Eren and his naivety.
“No,” Levi answered simply, and before he could stop himself, “it feels good.”
Eren didn’t say anything after that, and Levi stayed silent as well, letting the tension seep out of him under Eren’s hands. Letting himself get lost in the feeling of those young, inexperienced fingers exploring, no, caressing his skin. Yes, caressing, because it was now going past a simple massage. With the way Eren’s fingers were now ghosting over his skin, exploring over his back in a mixture of gentleness and firmness, it was caressing. Embracing. Levi was fighting demons trying not to think about what they’d feel like elsewhere.
(Young, smooth, nimble fingers fumbling over his cock. Inexperienced, but Levi would teach him. Levi would look forward to teaching him.)
Outside, Levi could hear the faint sound of crickets, the chatter of soldiers headed back to their dorms. Typical, ordinary, normal sounds as a backdrop to an atypical, unordinary, abnormal massage. A massage with poorly concealed caresses, nervous breathing, and a building tension. A massage that was no longer a massage.
Levi should stop this.
Levi should not be standing here at the cusp of something wrong.
Levi should not be dreaming of Eren’s hands exploring a little more, of pulling him close to his body.
Levi should and should not be doing a lot of things.
But then Eren, being Eren, took it one more, bold step forward. His curious hands trailed down his arms, gripping over Levi’s biceps and running down the sides and Levi’s breath hitched this time. Fingers rubbing into his muscles, up and down and down and down lower, fingertips brushing against his wrists. And that was what jolted Levi out of his trance.
Levi’s eyes flew open and his hand jerked out of Eren’s grasp, covering one of Eren’s and stopping him.
“Eren.” Levi’s voice was muted. “You need to stop.”
“Why?”
Strong. Rebellious. Challenging. Daring Levi to answer him, and he would if Eren wasn’t so close. He had leaned over while touching him, chin nearly resting on his shoulder, and the heat from his cheek radiated onto Levi’s cold skin. God did he want more.
(Skin, burning hot, scotching him in the best way.)
Eren gave his forearm a small squeeze and Levi found the words to respond.
“We can’t do this,” Levi said, and he heard Eren getting ready to argue, his body tensing. Levi rushed to explain himself further. “I’m your superior. You’re too young.”
Levi could hear the frown in Eren’s voice, struggled not to look over to him as he spoke.
“I’m a monster. We’re both soldiers,” Eren argued. “We could die any day now.”
Levi wanted that argument to be enough.
“I’m a grouchy old man.”
Eren’s chin landed on Levi’s shoulder now, burning through his shirt. The rest of his body suddenly felt frozen. Levi shuddered.
Eren’s hands tightened. He pressed a single, damning kiss on the skin of Levi’s neck.
This was simultaneously the best and worst torture Levi had ever had to endure.
“But you want me.”
Shit.
Levi did, he really did, but Eren wasn’t supposed to know.
He was a boy turned soldier turned young man through circumstance and who was Levi to take advantage of that.
“No, Eren I-”
“You do.”
Eren stood straight, hands leaving Levi’s body, and Levi let them. He breathed a sigh of relief and longing.
The space around him felt surprisingly empty, and his chest ached more than it had before. He had come so close, so painstakingly close, to what he wanted, and Eren would be hurt by it but he’d spring back. He was young and full of life. He would move on and find someone else, someone better. One of his friends who would be able to return his energy, help him find joy and-
Eren’s hands were back on his shoulders. So shocking was his touch that Levi didn’t react in time as Eren’s hands single mindedly ran down his arms, lower past his shoulders and forearms and to his hands, grabbing them. He intertwined their fingers. Rested his lips on the nape of his neck.
Levi melted.
He was too weak to push Eren back. Too tired of rejecting him to break free from his hands.
“Eren…”
“Levi,” Eren whispered against his neck, and Levi didn’t know his name could feel so good mouthed against his skin. Didn’t know it could sound that good coming from Eren’s mouth.
(Eren’s voice, breathy and gone, panting out Levi’s name and calling for him as though Levi was more than his blade.)
“Please don’t.”
Levi didn’t know when he resorted to begging, but it didn’t work. It was as if Eren had never heard it. He moved Levi’s hand for him, resting it over the noticeable bulge he should’ve known was growing in his pants. Levi let out a breathy noise. He felt like his chest was going to collapse.
“Levi… let me do this,” Eren said, before repeating that same damning line. “I know you want me and,” Eren took Levi’s other hand, bringing it to cover own bulge, “I want you too. Please.”
(Eren’s cock, up against his, grinding. His hot skin sliding against his, his head hanging over his shoulder. Eren’s breath panting in his ear.)
Levi broke.
He untangled their hands, grabbed Eren’s arm, and hauled him into his lap.
Eren made a small squeak of surprise, eyes going wide, and for the first time since Eren started massaging him, Levi got a good look at his face. His mouth was half open, cheeks a deep red, and pupils dilated, making his brilliant, beautiful eyes look dark.
Levi only got a moment to commit the expression to memory before Eren, always so eager, smashed their lips together.
He tasted sweet and bitter at the same time, like black tea with honey, and Levi was instantly addicted. He licked in, keenly aware of the clumsy way Eren moved his lips against his, and devoured him. Wrapped his arms around him and took his lust, mirroring it with as much passion as he could muster.
Levi shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be high on the taste of his mouth or riding a wave of euphoria at taking this breathtakingly beautiful young man’s first kiss. He shouldn’t be so completely enamored by a child, forced to grow and mature much too fast. He should be helping him, guiding him, allowing him to explore with peers his own age.
But fuck all that because Eren was in his arms now and his brain was already short circuiting, not at all helped by the way Eren was starting to grind against him.
Levi groped at Eren’s skin, slipping his hands under his shirt, letting that searing heat seep into his bones and warm him in the most amazing, illicit way. His mouth was sloppy, hands roaming, bunching his shirt, and it would probably take forever to iron out those wrinkles, but Levi didn’t care.
He did have to slow them down, though, or else Levi was going to cum right here in his pants like a teenager.
“Eren, Eren, wait,” Levi said, pushing against his chest.
Eren groaned, upset, and looked back with a worried expression. His lips were tugged down into a pout that Levi wanted to kiss away.
“What?”
“Pants,” Levi said. “Unbutton them.”
Levi didn’t have the patience to ask him to take them off. They could do that later.
“Oh!”
Eren brightened considerably and nearly fell off Levi as he rushed to undo his pants. Levi smiled faintly, undoing his own and pushing all that messy, unnecessary fabric out of the way to grab Eren.
The boy’s body did an interesting sort of spasm, back arching and eyes fluttering shut. He was beautiful, near angelic, and Levi found himself holding his breath until he sagged back forward to fix Levi with a pleading look.
“Beautiful,” Levi praised, giving his cock an experimental pump to watch his eyelids struggle to stay open again.
Almost instinctively, Eren’s hand reached out to grab hold of Levi’s too. Levi caught his hand, stopping him, and Eren fixed him with the most betrayed look.
“Wha-”
“Like this,” Levi said, and gently guided his hand to encircle both of their cocks. Levi’s heart almost stuttered to a stop when the softness of Eren’s hand touched him. So smooth, youthful, and giving, unlike Levi’s own.
Eren gave a curious pump, testing, and Levi’s hips gave an involuntary twitch up, his eyes shutting.
When he opened them, Eren looked absolutely entranced by his reaction, doing it again. And again. Jolty and teasing, licking his lips as he watched Levi’s reactions.
“Eren,” Levi warned, and there was that smile on his lips. Stunning and more brilliant than the all the stars in the sky.
The boy leaned forward, bending his head to Levi’s ear, before he whispered.
“I think you’re the beautiful one.”
This kid was going to be the death of him.
Eren continued up again, moving at a more consistent pace, gently encouraging Levi to keep his eyes open even as he seemed to struggle himself. It was an alluring scene, debauched and needy, and despite the way Eren’s kiss-plump lips begged for his attention, Levi had to keep his eyes open and head back to watch.
With each jerky pump little, near silent gasps escaped Eren’s lips while those long, beautiful eyelashes fluttered. He looked gone to it, strung out by the same overwhelming pleasure infecting Levi. Like a live wire, made electric by the knowledge that this, this lovely, vivacious, amazing boy was his now. His to hold, to touch, to warm him through the dark cold nights and to sit beside in companion silences. His to cherish and love and protect.
Levi wouldn’t let anyone take him. Not the capital, not Mikasa, not the titans.
He would defeat them all. For Eren.
To keep him safe.
In his arms.
It was almost too much, was too much, and before Levi knew it Eren’s orgasm, marked by an impressively muffled shout, a strong thrust of his hips, and a marvelous life-giving kiss, had Levi coming over both their hands as well. A low murmur of my boy, all mine, escaped from him before he could stop himself, but if Eren minded, he didn’t show it.
Eren stayed on his lap for a moment longer, head resting atop Levi’s shoulder, before Levi tapped at shoulder to let him up.
“Gotta clean up,” Levi apologized.
Eren smiled, knowing as if he expected as much. Eren really did know Levi, didn’t he?
“I’ll go get a cloth.”
Clean up didn’t take long, Eren’s joke that all of that castle chores really paid off hitting some sore, guilty part of Levi that he wasn’t willing to address yet, and soon they were fully clothed again. Facing one another. Eren looked awkward. Levi felt it.
His mind was still spinning over what he’d just done. And who he now had.
“So, uh,” Eren said uncertainly, wincing at his own words. “What do we do now?”
Levi looked at him for a long moment, at the way he had his head tipped down in embarrassment, at the fidgetiness that hadn’t seemed to exist only moments ago, and sighed. He walked over and pulled Eren to his chest, cursing at that slight height difference.
After a moment of hesitance, Eren’s arms circled around him too, squeezing him tight. As though he was afraid Levi would leave as soon as he let go. That hurt too.
Levi let the hug go on for a few minutes before letting go, watching Eren regrettably release him.
“Now,” Levi said, finally answering Eren’s question. “We deal with the consequences of our stupid actions.”
Eren flinched at that, looking to a wall at the side with his nose crinkled up in uncertainty. Levi smiled, reaching up to ruffle his hair before continuing to speak.
“But first, sleep. Do you want to sleep in the dungeon or in my bed?”
That night, Levi fell asleep while being held bone-crushingly tight to an overheated teenager’s chest, heart aching and mind still reeling.
It was the best sleep he’d gotten in years.