Wordlessly, he once more obeyed. Up onto my lap he clambered, and though he didn't need it, I offered him my hand to help steady him. He took it, though if it was for the help he obviously didn't need or just to have me to hold, I didn't know - and I didn't care. 
When he was seated comfortably straddling my lap, and I adjusted beneath him only slightly to be more comfortable supporting his weight, he shifted his hand in mine, twisting so our palms were pressed together and our fingers linked. 
I watched as his fingers curled through mine with acute detail, close as it was, and slow as it was - as though he thought I might protest. Instead, I redirected my gaze once more, finding those beautiful eyes of his. 
"Gorgeous," I murmured, without really meaning to. 
And yet, the word came out easily, and there was no reason for him to look so incredibly shy under my (albeit intense) scrutiny. If only he knew that he was all I ever cared to see in this moment. These moments where it was only the two of us... he was the only target of my affections and of all my love.
"Maya," he said breathlessly, doing what he could to stay composed even as I set my canteen down on the arm of the chair and set my now free hand against the small of his back. "We're sweaty and-"
"And," I prompted when it became clear his breath caught in his throat. I couldn't blame him, really. When my lips found the sensitive skin of his neck - for I guided him to arch against me - a shiver had run down my spine, so I certainly hadn't expected his reaction to be anything less than that.
"Sweaty, and-" He cut himself off once more, sucking in a breath only to let it out in a shuddered moan as I nipped at his skin.
"That's how we always end up," I argued easily. "What's the difference if we start off that way, too?"
"Ah," he gasped out, then leaned away so I couldn't reach him and he could gather his breath and nerve to speak. "Why here? W-Why now?"
"You were putting on a damn good show for me," I told him, harking back to his words from earlier. 
When I'd first decided to sit and take a breather, he'd commented on it. "What, are you just gonna watch?"
Well, yes. That's what I had done.
"When you look like this," I said, walking my fingers up his side teasingly, tapping against the thin fabric of his shirt that clung to him in all the right ways, "how could you possibly expect me to  be content just to sit and watch?"
"I... I-Amaya, I-"
"Mm?" My hum was a lilting sort of purr, one he surely felt as I guided his chest to press against mine. His fingers reached between us, grasping at the waistband of my pants. He dared not go further - he would never progress if he wasn't certain I wanted something.
"Amaya, I... Dammit, I need you. But here, and now, there's..." He gasped when my fingers, surely cold by now, curled around the back of his neck and gently pulled him to lower himself to me. His nose brushed against my own as our eyes met, though only briefly. He seemed to be having a hard time figuring out where to look: my lips or my eyes. "Soldiers are crawling all over this damn building. Someone's going to hear."
"People might assume we're sparring," I suggested playfully.
"Tch," he muttered. "I doubt that."
"Levi, love," I murmured, "we don't need to do anything you're not comfortable with here. We can cool off now, or we can go upstairs. The choice is yours."
He didn't take too long to think about it. "And I'm yours."
"You're sweet," I said. "But I knew that part already. Your answer?"