Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/875756.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      Gen, F/M, M/M, F/F
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Mikasa_Ackerman/Jean_Kirschstein, Armin_Arlert/Jean_Kirschstein, Eren
      Jaeger/Levi, Levi/Irvin_Smith, Mikasa_Ackerman/Annie_Leonhart, Ymir/
      Christa_Renz, Reiner_Braun/Bertolt_Hoover
  Character:
      Mikasa_Ackerman, Eren_Jaeger, Armin_Arlert, Jean_Kirschstein, Levi_
      (Shingeki_no_Kyojin), Irvin_Smith, Hanji_Zoe, Ymir_(Shingeki_no_Kyojin),
      Christa_Renz, Bertolt_Hoover, Reiner_Braun, Annie_Leonhart
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Alternate_Universe_-_90's
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-09 Completed: 2013-12-09 Chapters: 26/26 Words: 124249
****** 1994 ******
by Vee
Summary
     Before cell phones. Before the Kardashians. Before internet porn. The
     year is 1994. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, poor kids from the wrong side
     of the tracks, have been transferred with the rest of their
     neighborhood to the posh, uptown Trost High (Home of the Titans).
     Mikasa and Armin seem to fit in well enough, but Eren isn't quite so
     lucky. Of course, most of this has to do with Eren's personality.
     When he accepts a bet to lose his virginity (and actually prove that
     someone likes him) by the end of the semester, it's hard for him to
     deny the improbability of winning. After all, the only one he seems
     to be talking to these days is the weirdly pretty (and just plain
     weird) goth working at the donut shop down the street...
Notes
     Also you know it's A/U because Jean is actually a winner at life.
     Sorry Jean bb, I absolutely love you.
     Yes! My first SnK fic, what's up, fandom? Just trying this on for
     size because wow, these cuties. ~~All These Cuties~~
     Why 90's high school A/U? Why Levi in goth clothes and eyeliner?
     Because these are possibilities and I have no self-restraint.
     Will not be a behemoth like most of my A/U fics, tbh. Maybe seven,
     eight chapters. Maybe a bit longer. I make no guarantees, though, you
     know how these things happen.
***** Chapter 1 *****
“I’m home.” I always said it when I walked inside, hoping deep in my gut
somewhere that I’d hear an answer from someone other than Mikasa.
“Hey.” Again, though, it was only her, regarding with me the standard half-
smile that only looked sunny if you caught her by the eyes. She hurried through
the door of the kitchen and snapped the air as she passed into the hallway.
“Hey, did you need the car for anything?”
By asking, she was asking if I needed a ride anywhere. Dad had given me
permission to use the station wagon whenever he was gone (which was always),
but 1) it was a station wagon, and 2) it broke down more reliably than it
started. Following the inevitable pattern, it hadn’t lasted one full day into
my first week at Trost High. I’d been sure to cover all the angles for making a
good first impression at a new school, but everything had blown up in my face
by the time I dragged Mikasa over to jump the battery with her Buick in the
parking lot at the end of our first day.
“What? Oh, nah. I’ll probably walk to the donut shop later, grab something to
eat.” She was putting on a pair of earrings in the doorway, watching me while I
slumped into the couch and grabbed for the remote control. “What?” I prompted
her.
“That party’s tonight; do you still not want to go?”
“Tsch.” I turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels
compulsively. Like I’d give anyone the satisfaction of a pity invitation. I’d
only been asked along because Mikasa made a good impression on an
upperclassman, jumping a car battery all by herself in a pair of overall shorts
after school. I’d been in earshot when the details were discussed.
“Your little brother can come too,” was the begrudging way I’d been included. I
only kept an eye on the guy because he was checking her out; if I couldn’t have
a car, maybe I could at least start a fight on my first day.
“Step-brother,” Mikasa corrected him. It was easier to explain than ‘foster
brother’, and no one ever asked us to explain it.
“Your little step-brother.”
“I don’t want to go to that stupid party. It’s gonna be full of rich kids and
preps. I’m just going to get through this school year as quickly as possible. I
don’t want to meet anyone.”
“Armin’s going.”
“Armin can do what he wants!” She noticed, though, that I stopped flipping
through channels at that. What was Armin doing, going to that party? He was
like fresh bait for the sort of kids that went to Trost High. He’d barely been
a blip on the food chain at our old school. I looked over at her and lowered
the remote to my lap. “What? Is this some ploy to get me to come along, so I
can look after Armin?”
“It’s going to be fun.” She sighed.
I left the TV on when I got up, and grabbed my keys off the coffee table. The
school parking pass was still dangling from my keyring, but I didn’t quite feel
like giving up on the idea of having a car to put it in just yet. Maybe, way in
the back of my mind, I was hoping that dad would come home with a new Neon as a
very late birthday present for me.
“Are you leaving? Eren, you just got home.” Mikasa sounded disappointed, but
also like she was scolding me. She was barely a year older than me, and it got
on my nerves more and more as we got older to hear that parental tone slip into
her words.
“I’m hungry!” I snapped back, and left.
Our house was near the paper factory, in an area of town that always smelled
like chemicals and never seemed to get any sun. It was full of shuttered
businesses and ill-maintained roads. Even the schools had closed, and all the
kids unfortunate enough to live in the area were bussed to the next district.
The two years I’d been able to spend at Shinganshina High before it was
defunded had been pretty good, I thought. Being poor wasn’t so bad when you
were surrounded by other poor kids. The move to Trost High, on top of requiring
us to leave thirty minutes earlier every morning, meant that suddenly I was on
the bottom – way on the bottom. It had only been three days. Already I wanted
to run off and beg the Peace Corps to take me at 16 years old. I’d lie if I had
to. Dad wouldn’t even notice I was gone. Pretty much the only thing keeping me
from packing a suitcase and heading to the bus station was Mikasa.
The donut shop on the end of the street was the only place to get food unless I
wanted to hoof it another three miles to the downtown area. I never wanted to
do that, not even when I had a car to drive. Besides, I’d long ago grown fond
of the hot dogs they served. I ordered my usual dinner and sat down at one of
the outdoor tables that hadn’t dry-rotted into a fire hazard yet. Suddenly I
wasn’t hungry, but two dollars was two dollars. I looked around with a sigh,
trying to build up my appetite. I’d have the house to myself for the evening,
at least. I could try to catch the neighbors’ satellite dish signal and watch
Cinemax, jerk off a couple of times, and not worry about having Mikasa around.
She’d been right, though, in that annoyingly manipulative way she always was. I
couldn’t think of leaving Armin at the mercy of our new classmates.
A dark green Camaro, an ’89 by the look of it, came crunching through the
gravel parking lot and rolled to a stop behind the building, just within my
line of sight. With nothing better to focus on, I watched as the door opened
and someone – presumably an employee – stepped out.
I knew most of the people who worked at the donut shop, but I’d never seen this
guy. Unfamiliarity combined with an undeniable envy over his gorgeous car, and
I blatantly followed him with my eyes as he gathered his things from the
backseat.
He was short; he was absolutely short. Like, shorter-than-most-of-the-freshmen-
at-my-school short. Despite that, he was undoubtedly older than me. His hair
was parted down the middle and he was dressed in all black. When he turned to
walk toward the building I noticed three things: his pants were made of
leather, his wallet chain hung down to his knee, and his boots had just
slightly more heel to them than most guys could get away with.
He was a goth, I realized with an almost-sneer. Just as quickly as I thought
it, I noticed his head jerk my way, and he unmistakably looked right at me. As
stupidly resolute as I was to start some trouble before the end of the night, I
just looked right back. He smirked at first, eyes not deviating until he was
sure I’d seen him. When he scanned the rest of the table, however, I saw him
pause.
I hadn’t actually wanted him to walk over. Immediately I started to come up
with a reason why I’d been eyeing him so evilly. It was just the way my face
looked, honestly; everyone thought I was trying to pick a fight, regardless of
circumstances (usually I was). With that excuse at the ready, I looked down at
my chili dog and forced myself to summon forth an appetite as he approached.
“Hey,” he tried to regain my attention, the heart of exasperation in his tone
like he didn’t care if I paid attention or not. “Kid. Hey, kid.”
My eyes flicked over, almost like my body was forcing me to regard him one way
or another. He didn’t wait for me to address him before he went on. “You go to
Trost?”
He pointed at the keys I’d left on the table beside my food, more specifically
the Trost High School parking pass. He’d been particularly eagle-eyed to catch
that from so far away, but I supposed if one was looking for it, it was
difficult to miss a giant ‘T’ in electric blue and white hanging from an
otherwise measly set of keys. Especially in the bleakness of the Shinganshina
neighborhood, the bright colors stood out.
“Yeah, I do now,” I replied bitterly. Finally I lifted my eyes to look at him.
I tried to rein in my surprise. His brows were unnaturally thin and he was
wearing eyeliner. I didn’t like admitting this about other guys, but it wasn’t
the first time it had happened: he was strange, but he was pretty.
I looked down again almost immediately.
“What’s your Vice Principal named?”
I’d not been expecting another question at all, much less that one. He was
still pointing at my keys. I was trying to keep from blushing. I could normally
buck off authority with a well-timed roll of my eyes, but his tone of voice was
persistently keeping me pinned down. It felt exhilaratingly annoying. “Vice
Principal?” I repeated. “You mean Vice Principal Smith?”
He withdrew his pointing finger primly, curling his wrist back in a subtle
flick before he turned to walk away, just like that. He didn’t even thank me
for my answer, just made his way over to the donut shop and went in through the
back entrance. Maybe complete confusion drove me to finish my food, but it was
definitely gross curiosity that made me go back to the window for a drink
before I left.
He was behind the counter, still wearing his eyeliner and black t-shirt, with
the addition of a dull red employee apron. I gave him a puzzled look before I
even asked for a large Dr. Pepper, hoping he would catch my drift and throw me
a bone.
“What is it? Do you want something?”
“Yes! Why did you ask me that? That was really weird.”
“Oh.” He learned forward just slightly, presumably out of his manager’s
earshot. “I know him.” That answered absolutely nothing, and a slow blinking
reaction was all I could give. “If you’re not going to order anything, stop
wasting my time.”
I got my drink and left. His nametag said ‘Levi’. I’d definitely not seen him
before.
The sun set completely on my way home, and it was dark by the time I pushed the
door open and informed Mikasa that I was back.
Armin was sitting on the couch. It wasn’t unusual for him to show up at our
house, of course, and normally I’d sit down and tell him all about the weird
new guy at the donut shop who asked about Vice Principal Smith. But Armin was
dressed up. Armin looked nervous. Armin was eyeing me like he was about to
cling to my leg for help.
“I’m not going to the stupid party!” I said immediately.
Thirty minutes later, I was trying for the third time to lock the door on
Mikasa’s Buick as I lamented getting into the car in the first place. “No,
Eren, you need to hold the handle up while you—“
“I know! I know, okay?” I tried one last time, finally got it right, and nearly
tripped over the curb as I turned to join Mikasa and Armin on the unfamiliar
lawn.
“Oh my god, Eren, you’re freaking out. Calm down,” Mikasa instructed me as I
hurried over.
“It’s really nice here,” Armin pointed out, eyeing the more expensive cars
lining the road. “This is a rich neighborhood.”
And that, I would have explained to Mikasa, was why I was freaking out. Poor
kids didn’t go to Trost High. Poor kids didn’t go to rich kid parties. My
defenses were off the charts. “Whose house is this, anyway?” I asked.
“That guy who was in the parking lot with us the other day. Jean.”
I bristled at the thought of the guy who’d been undressing Mikasa with his
eyes. “So how did Armin get invited?”
“I’m in Physics with him. We sit next to each other. He’s nice!”
Something about it felt upsetting, like we were being set up for an elaborate
prank. Not Mikasa, of course (which was part of the problem). Whatever his
intentions, there was absolutely no reason to trust one of Trost High’s elite
as “nice” until I vetted him for myself.
“Mikasa!” Jean found us within minutes of entering the crowded, vaulted-
ceiling, noisy house that smelled of privilege. “Welcome to mi casa!”
“Oh my god, I hate him,” I muttered under my breath.
“Don’t be a jerk tonight.” Mikasa pinched my arm before returning the greeting.
I’d expected a few words and maybe a vague insinuation that Mikasa should ditch
us before Jean went on to the rest of his friends, but instead he stuck around
us most of the evening. Even when I tried to wander off on my own, Mikasa would
always find me, and where Mikasa appeared, Armin and Jean weren’t far behind.
Eventually I resigned myself to the inevitable horrors of forced socializing,
and we all wound up in papasan chairs in Jean Kirschtein’s sunroom, drinking
Bud Light and trying to find even ground.
He asked us about things both pertinent and impertinent, presumably trying to
get to know us, but I was sharp enough to notice that he addressed Mikasa most
of the time. I wasn’t budging in my determination to give him the cold
shoulder, even if he was providing me with beer and a safe place to drink it.
“My dad’s a cop,” he explained. “He doesn’t mind if we drink, as long as no one
tries to drive home after. By the way, since you’ve never been to one of my
parties, here’s the spiel: feel free to crash. Don’t drive because my dad does
have people pulled over if he knows I’m throwing one of these things.” I didn’t
like the way he looked at Mikasa after saying all that.
“Your parents really don’t mind?” Armin asked, something close to enchantment
in his voice. I almost felt embarrassed for him.
“No, they go next door and hang out with the Hoovers. My parents are cool,
guys. Chill out. Welcome to Trost, I usually do one or two of these a month.”
He offered his beer can to the center of the circle of chairs, and Mikasa
politely toasted him with her own. Armin followed. I hesitated.
“Okay, I can no longer ignore that you’re being a total shit.” He pointed at me
and laughed just above his breath. At the last moment before I would have
usually taken it as an invitation to throw down, Mikasa managed to catch my eye
and gave me a stern bow of her eyebrows.
I just sighed. “I don’t feel comfortable.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you, man. If you can’t feel comfortable here, I
don’t know what else to tell you.” He leaned in and spoke carefully, then. “I
know someone who might be holding, so if you wanna get high in a few, if that
would help, I can—“    
“Why are you being nice to us?!” I suddenly cried out, half in desperation and
half in true frustration. Everything was surreal. We weren’t supposed to
bethere, it was not where we belonged.
Jean’s eyes darted all around, worried maybe that my outburst would draw the
wrong sort of attention. “I like making friends?” He replied, a rhetorical
question on the end of his tone. “You guys have it hard enough, coming over in
your senior year to a whole new school, and—“
“I’m a junior,” I interrupted him and sighed.
“Me too,” Armin added. “I’m just in advanced classes.”
Jean shrugged. “Well, there you go, though. It sucks to be at a new school, but
you seem cool enough. I mean, Mikasa and Armin do. Eren, whatever your deal is,
you need to knock it off. Take a pill or get laid, I don’t know man, but do
something. You’re like… grrr… all the time.”
“Hey, don’t you worry about my sex life, okay?” I chuckled, trying to mask my
nerves with bravado.
“Hmm, I don’t tend to worry about things that don’t exist.” He leaned back with
an insufferable smirk on his insufferable face. Mikasa seemed too stunned to
react, but Armin stifled a laugh. I sucker-punched him in the arm immediately.
“Ow!”
“Armin, you’re supposed to be on my side!”
“But it was funny!” He lowered his voice, but not low enough. “And true.”
Jean shot fingers at both of us; first me, then Armin. “Virgins?”
Armin just shrugged. He’d never been one to boast, and he’d never been one to
lie. I deflected the attention. “Hey, hey, hey, why aren’t you asking Mikasa?”
“Because, Eren, you ass,” Jean explained like I was the biggest idiot he’d ever
encountered, “it is rude to ask a lady about her sexual history.”
“I’m not a virgin,” Mikasa blurted out.
I glared at her in horror. Jean’s eyes went from me, back to her, and landed on
me again. “Ew, I sincerely hope you two didn’t—“
“No!” We cried out in unison. Even Armin recoiled just a bit at that.
“Okay, so we need to get the two of you laid, then. I’ll try my utmost to make
it happen tonight. Armin, who do you like?”
Armin froze and I automatically felt sympathy pains. I should have known by the
way his voice wavered just slightly when he first told me that Jean was “nice”,
but now it was fairly blatant. At least it was blatant to me. As far as I knew,
I was the only one Armin had told since he started to care about boys far more
than he cared about girls. “I don’t… like anyone…” he said bashfully, eyes cast
down.
 “We’ll find you someone, then! What’s your type? Tall, short, blonde,
brunette, big boobs, long legs?” He leaned over and started to tousle Armin’s
hair. Armin was blushing, but he was laughing uncomfortably nonetheless.
Mikasa had been right to bring me along, after all. I stepped in before he
cracked. “What about me?”
“I was talking to Armin.”
“He obviously doesn’t like anyone!” Certainly not you. God, I hope his taste
improves as he gets older.“And besides, I’m the one you said needed to get
laid.”
“You’re totally on your own.” He snorted and turned to Mikasa. “You live with
him? How do you stand it?”
“I’ll bet you I can get laid.”
“Eren…” Mikasa started.
“Oh? A bet? Really? Really, ghetto kid, you want to place a wager?”
“All the more reason you should be scared to take it. Don’t underestimate me.”
He pointed at Mikasa. “Again, if you two are secretly—“
“Ew, no!” Mikasa shoved his hand away, but I noticed her squeeze it just
slightly when she did. “Stop suggesting that, you’re the perv here. Eren’s a
total virgin, god! Eren, don’t do anything stupid tonight.”
Jean shrugged again, flourishing his now-empty beer can. “So what are the
terms?”
“I’ll bet I can get laid before the end of the semester. If I don’t…”   
“End of the semester? That’s a pretty broad scope. I can give you three or four
names that wouldn’t discriminate tonight, not that I’ll give them to you.”
“Maybe I actually want to like the person.”
This seemed to spark something. He raised one eyebrow challengingly. “Maybe I
want proof that the person actually likes you. Which I think is going to be
more impossible.”
“Done. Fine.”
“So if I win, you pay the down payment on my car.”
“Whoa! Whoa, that’s pretty steep!”
“What? Money is like, nothing to you, right? You’re loaded.” I gestured around
the room. Maybe his dad was a cop, but there was some serious money coming into
that house. “Besides, you’re so sure you’re going to win, aren’t you? What’s it
to you?”
Mikasa just rolled her eyes and leaned over to say something to Armin. I saw
him nod out of the corner of my eye, but Jean got my attention back just as
quickly. “Okay, good point. And, since I’m a nice person, if I win, you don’t
have to give me anything. You just need to live with the fact that you failed.”
“Listen,” I chuckled. “If you’re still trying to win points with Mikasa or
something, I assure you that she’s not going to do it with you tonight so you
might as well give up.”
He ignored me. “Whatever. So do we have a bet?”
“Yeah, you’re on!”
I remember drinking another few beers after that and talking about how many
fights I’d been in, and how many I’d won (I hadn’t won any of them,
technically, but neither Armin nor Mikasa was around to refute me). I woke up
in the den splayed over a couch cushion that had been dragged halfway across
the room. My head was pounding. As soon as I remembered where I was, I tiptoed
clumsily around the place, searching for Armin and Mikasa. Armin, I finally
found sleeping next to the stairs, wrapped in something that looked
suspiciously like a letter jacket with Jean’s last name on the back. I
purposefully didn’t think about it, and told him we needed to find Mikasa and
leave.
“Why?” He asked blearily. “Jean said no one has to leave until this afternoon,
and his parents are buying lunch for whoever stays to help clean up.”
Because I fucking hate Jean Kirschtein, that’s why we have to leave, is what I
wanted to say. “Because the game’s on this afternoon. I wanna get back in time
to watch it.”
“Oh yeah,” he yawned. “Mikasa might be upstairs still.”
“What do you mean still?”
“I don’t know, leave me alone. My head hurts so bad…”
The last thing I wanted to do was go upstairs. Lucky for me, when I opened the
front door to get a bit of fresh air, Mikasa was sitting on the steps drinking
a cup of coffee. “Where’d you get coffee? I want coffee.” I sat down next to
her and fought against how the sun made my stomach turn.
“Jean made it this morning. I think there’s still a cup left.” She looked at me
over the brim as she took another sip.
“No, thank you,” I growled immediately.
“God, Eren, don’t hate him. He’s a cool guy.”
“You seemed to think so.” I knew I was being a brat, but it was just in my
nature, especially after I’d just woken up.  
“What do you care? At least I didn’t make any stupid bets about stupid things.”
I remembered the bet with a groan. “Oh, yeah. Well, if I lose at least I don’t
lose anything.”
“Except your pride.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Mikasa threw her arm around my shoulders and grabbed me in a quick hug. “You’re
such an idiot,” she said almost-sweetly.
I caught a whiff of her and didn’t quite like it. She didn’t smell like Mikasa.
“So what did you end up doing after we all split up?”
“I went to Jean’s room.”
I actually found it impossible to react. My face screwed up a little, but for
the most part I just sat there, staring at her. She glanced away and shook her
head slightly. “It was okay, I guess.”
“I don’t want to know how it was,” I said in a grave whisper.
She stood up and wiped off the back of her jeans. “He finished too fast. I
wouldn’t do it again, but he is cute.”
“Oh my god…”
“Are you ready? Grab Armin.”
Like a zombie, I walked back into the house and found Armin sitting in the
kitchen, drinking his own cup of coffee. Unfortunately, Jean was leaning over
the counter and talking to him. It was too late to shrink back around the
corner once I’d caught sight of them, so I just gritted my teeth and walked
forward. “Armin, we’re leaving.”
I turned around and started back out before he even said, “Okay.”
I turned around in the front seat to talk to him once we were in the car. I
wasn’t currently on speaking terms with Mikasa. “You look happy for someone
with a hangover,” I told him.
“Yeah…”
I narrowed my eyes and tried to extract his meaning. Armin just bit his lower
lip and gave me a clandestine grin. I wondered if anything more than the
obvious was going on, but whatever the case I didn’t like how happy even a
brief interaction with Jean had rendered my best friend. I turned back around
and rolled my eyes, sighing. “I really need to win that bet,” I muttered.
“Armin, are you gay?” Mikasa suddenly asked. I sat bolt upright and turned as
slowly as possible to look at him again.
Again, Armin was not one to lie. However, he hated being caught off guard. “Um!
I… yes! I think! Yes, I am! I’ve never… but yes!”
“What the hell, Mikasa, where did that come from?” I asked, flicking her
shoulder with my forefinger.
“Jean asked,” she explained. She, apparently, was still honoring our agreement
to not speak for the time being, and addressed Armin. “He thinks you’re cute.”
“What is withthat guy?!” I asked, yelling at no one in particular.
“Eren, everyone likes Jean except you,” Armin said softly, but I could
practically hear the squeal of excitement over what Mikasa had told him.
“I am going to win that bet,” I buried my face in my hands and tried to deny
how badly I wanted to throw up.    
***** Chapter 2 *****
 
As the first week at Trost High drew to a close, I finished on the plus side
with one more friend, if I could even call him that. I liked Connie. Connie was
an okay guy. An easily excitable guy who was really good at getting us in
trouble for talking in class, but an okay guy.
“Jean Kirschtein?” He shut the door of his locker and made a weird face at me.
“Why, what about him?”
I automatically felt embarrassed for having asked. “Just… what’s his deal?”
Connie seemed to know what was going on around the school, as well as what had
gone on prior to my arrival, to the extent that I couldn’t help calling on his
talents to figure out a few things.
“I still don’t follow.”
I took in a very deep breath and let it out before leaning as close as I dared.
“I mean, is he gay? Is he straight? Does he just sleep with everyone? Does he
have some angle I don’t know about?”
“Why, did he hit on you or something?” I decided to ignore the incredulous look
on his face as he said that.
I knew I would start to turn red if I thought about it enough (from
indignation, mind you), so I answered as quickly as possible: “My step-sister.”
I paused. “And… and Armin.”
“Armin, no shit? Wow.” Connie hefted his backpack over one shoulder and started
to walk. I kept pace. “Well, the thing with Jean is, he’s still sort of getting
used to being single, so I think he’s just playing the field pretty
extensively. I mean, pickings are easy when you’re rich and popular, right?
Even when you look as unfortunate as he does.” I had to laugh. At least someone
agreed with me. Connie paused, though, and stopped to give his next question
the gravity it apparently deserved. He was an overdramatic sort. “Wait, did you
go to one of his parties?”
“Yeah, but—“
His eyes went wide in an instant. “What? No way! Are you secretly popular or
something?”
I tried not to feel offended, especially since he seemed slightly betrayed by
the fact that I’d not mentioned it before. “No! It was just because Mikasa
went, and… you know what, never mind! Forget that! Anyway, what, he was dating
someone? Like, was it serious?”
“Yeah! I mean, everyone knew Jean and Marco were together. I guess it was this
big thing because, you know, you expect a gay couple to be bullied or whatever,
but Jean was this really popular guy and everyone liked him, so—“
I cut him off in a hurry. “So what happened, did he cheat and get dumped?” I
was, perhaps, projecting my wishes a little strongly. I was unfazed by the idea
of his sexuality; after all, I’d known about Armin’s preferences for some time,
and it seemed like something of a natural progression. Mikasa’s constant
company hadn’t been the best introduction to my concept of girls, either. There
had to be something, though; if I couldn’t have the advantage otherwise, maybe
I could claim a moral high ground. 
“Nah, man. Marco’s dad got stationed overseas so he had to move. They broke up,
and it sort of tore Jean apart. From what I’ve heard he’s been doing whatever
he wants since then, trying to land on his feet. I feel sorry for the guy. I
mean, everyone knew he was head over heels. I guess he likes girls, too, then?
Okay, I can see that. I mean, especially Mikasa. Your sister’s cute, man.”
“Step-sister. Shut up, Connie.” I said with a baleful tone, dragging behind him
by a few paces. The revelation did not improve my mood.
Mikasa drove me home and I went inside only to deposit my books on the couch.
“I’m going to the donut shop,” I announced, and left before she had time to
tell me something about not stuffing my face full of fast food all the time.
I’d have said something awful and gross about not stuffing her face full of
random guys, but there it was, just below the surface: I was jealous. Jealous
that she was pretty, jealous that she was popular. Maybe I was misdirecting my
jealousy, but Mikasa was there, and it was easy. My only interest at the moment
was brooding in general over the fact that I didn’t feel like talking to anyone
or having anyone talk to me.
At least I was hungry. I had two hot dogs in my gullet by the time I looked
over from the table and noticed that the weird short guy was back, and this
time he was watching me from his spot behind the shop.
We looked at each other for a long, tense moment, and I felt the need to
indicate somehow that yes, I saw him. I lifted my hand in a lame half-wave, and
he just lifted a cigarette to his lips, not looking away from me as he dragged
off of it. A few moments later, he started toward my table, flicking the butt
into the gravel on his way.
“Smoking’s bad for you,” I pointed out.
“Shut the fuck up.” I’d never been spoken to like that before. The surface of
it was abrasive and hostile, but beneath that, there was a layer of genuine
disinterest. Not dismissive, exactly, but only nominally concerned with whether
I followed the order or not. He was an adult, wasn’t he? An adult was talking
back to me like that. It felt odd. I was still quite used to getting away with
saying anything and being excused because I was still a kid. “They’re clove
cigarettes. So what, do you live close by? You’ve been here every day since I
started.”
“Why do you care?”
“It’s a simple question.”
“Yes. So why did you ask me that weird question the other day? Are you planning
the kill the Vice Principal or something?”
He paused, but for the life of me I couldn’t read the expression on his face.
Mikasa had a talent for looking completely blank, but this guy looked like he
was experiencing every emotion at once, and was in slight pain because of it.
“Yes. Yes, precisely. I am planning to kill him.”
“No you’re not.”
He shook his head. “Wow, you got me. I just knowhim, okay? If I’d known you
were such a shithead I wouldn’t have even asked.”
I expected him to walk away after that, but he didn’t. He pulled the sleeve up
on his sweatshirt and checked his watch. The tension of having him nearby made
me ask: “Are you on break, or what?”
“Yeah, and I forgot to bring a book.”
“Your name’s Levi, right?”
“Brilliant, you read my name tag.”
If I was anything (and Mikasa could attest to this), I was never one to be
intimidated by an obviously salty personality, especially not when the person
insisted on remaining in close physical proximity. “I’m Eren.”
“I don’t really give a shit,” he answered, and lifted one of his boots to pick
a sand burr off the lace. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed like he had
no other choice but to continue our conversation, and did. “So do you even have
friends, or do you have nothing better to do than come to this place every
day?”
“I have friends!” I bristled, inexplicably upset by this. “I just don’t want to
talk to them right now, is all.”
“And you’re what, 15?”
“I’m 16!” I had to remind myself not to let him get too much of a rise out of
me. He seemed the kind who would be most pleased with himself for it. “What are
you, 40?”
I didn’t look directly over at him, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Levi
give me the withering, pitying sort of expression you reserve for people who
try too hard. “You’re cute. I’m 25.”
Fantastic. The first instance in my high school life of someone actually
telling me I was cute, and it was complete sarcasm. I didn’t know how to react
to that. I supposed it wasn’t the time for small talk, nor was I completely
sure that I even wantedto get to know him.
“I like your car,” I finally said, after shoring up considerable courage.
“I hate it.” He stood up and wiped his hands of whatever imaginary dirt he’d
picked up in the process of being close to me. I took the opportunity to lift
an eyebrow at him in puzzlement. “I gotta get back to work.”
He disappeared, and within a few minutes I decided I was far too worked up to
stick around. Food from the shop never tended to sit well in the first place,
so strange nerves didn’t help matters. I stopped at the window to order my
usual drink before I headed home.
“Dr. Pepper, right? Again?” Levi asked. I just nodded, half-expecting some
attack on my taste or predictability.
He handed over a large soda and gave me a sharp, nearly insulted look when I
tried to give him a dollar. “It’s free, dumbass. Just take it.”
“Thank you,” I barely said, resolving not to let him see me blush as I turned
away.
A normal Friday night would consist of going home, looking at my homework,
deciding not to do a thing about my homework (but vaguely gauging how late on
Sunday I could wait until starting it), calling Armin, and either talking or
watching TV until sleep seemed more appealing. He wanted to watch the new
episodes of The Real World, and though I didn’t really care I liked watching TV
with him, so I picked up to phone to see if he wanted company at home.
Armin lived with his grandfather, and what time he didn’t spend taking care of
the old man was spent trying to keep the noise level low enough to not wake him
up. Hence, Armin was at our house most of the time. It’s not that it was
uncomfortable, going to the Arlert house, especially since there was always
good food and I loved their pet collie, but keeping it down was often a
challenge for me. That night particularly, though, I was still not quite up to
the task of being in close quarters with Mikasa.
The phone rang twice. Armin’s grandfather answered. “Mr. Arlert, is Armin
home?”
“Eren? No, no, he’s gone out for the night.”
“Oh!” I was completely unprepared for that. I paused until it became weird.
“Oh… okay. Well, tell him I called.”
“I will. Goodbye!”
“Yeah, bye.”
I hung up the phone and held it up by the cord, letting it spin out of its
knotted twists (dad still hadn’t sprung for a cordless). While I was standing
there not knowing what I was thinking, Mikasa appeared in the kitchen and
ducked into the fridge.
“So Armin went out tonight.”
“Yeah? And?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“I think he went on a date.”
I hung up the phone as gently as possible, for effect, and turned to her
veryslowly. Again, for effect. “What?”
“Yeah, he has a date with Jean. He didn’t want to tell you because he knew
you’d freak out.” She stood her ground, peeling the wrapper off some string
cheese and just daring me to prove her right.
Knowing that – and not caring whether I was being manipulated for a few moments
– I cleared my throat and laughed as convincingly as I could. “Poor guy, he’s
just being used.”
Mikasa shrugged and tore a chunk off the string cheese, shooting me much the
same look Levi had given me earlier. “So? Maybe Armin wants to have fun while
he’s still young.”
“What are you saying?”
“Put your dukes down, you’re not gonna fight me. Settle down. Stop being so
serious all the time. Be happy for Armin.”
“Why would I be happy for him?” I’m the one left alone on a Friday night.
Mikasa sighed and shook her head. As she had a habit of doing, she ignored my
question because she knew I didn’t really want an answer. She looked around the
kitchen, quickly forgetting (or just giving up on) the conversation. “Do you
wanna play some Sonic?”
“No.”
“Whatever. I’m gonna play some Sonic.” She threw away her empty wrapper and
walked past me.
The donut shop closed at nine o’clock. I showed up about ten minutes before.
“Oh, hell no. I’m not turning the fryers back on just for you,” Levi said when
I approached. “I have another job to be at, and I am outta here as soon as we
close.”
“I’m just going to get a donut,” I grumbled.
“These have literally been sitting out since the five o’clock bake,” he
informed me. “That’s gross.”
“I don’t care.”
“You didn’t really get a craving for a donut, did you, kid?” He leaned over the
counter a little and smirked at me. “You’re pissed off about something. What
happened? Girlfriend didn’t have time to jack you off before her parents got
home?”
In my mind, the glare I gave him could cut steel. He took it as a challenge.
“Okay, then. This isn’t your personal bar and I’m not your bartender, but you’d
never be able to sneak into one to talk to anyone who’d pretend to care, so
I’ll bite. What happened?”
“No,” I decided to be a brat. “You’ve got another job to go to. Who the hell
has another job this late on a Friday night, anyway?”
His smirk was usually just an emotionless twitch of the mouth that was a smirk
in definition alone, This time it blossomed slightly, and I must have looked
borderline horrified to see him expressing something other than boredom.
“Certain people do. People in certain lines of work.”
“Okay, whatever.” Then, blowing right past what I’d said: “My friends ditched
me.”
“Really? A sparkling charmer like you? I’m floored. That’s impossible to
believe.”
“Ha, ha, really funny.”
“So I’m assuming you decided to walk off the frustration? Need to beat someone
up?” He paused. “Need to act like you could possibly beat someone up?”
“You’re one to talk.”
“You really do not want to go there.” His voice went deathly serious all of a
sudden.
My nostrils flared out. I was going to hit a nerve if it killed me, and I knew
I was getting close. “Okay, I don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get? Did you just change the subject? Please hurry up.”
I was going to dig deep enough that I’d make sure he wasn’t just looking down
at me from his stupid order window, inwardly laughing at me, playing with me
like I was a puppy. He was the only one I had to talk to (at least at the
moment, which, for all I was concerned, was forever). I was going to make a
connection if it killed me. “A guy like you, knowing the Vice Principal? He
just doesn’t seem like the sort of person who’d put up with you for—“
“Are you still on that?”
“Yeah, first impressions stick, you know?”
“Oh, yeah, I do!” There was something about the way he said it that made me
think it had more to do with the topic at hand than I would ever know.
“Besides, you’re 25? He’s what, 40?”
“Stop baselining people at 40, it’s annoying.”
“Well, he’s old.”
“Everything you say is annoying.”
“You’re still talking to me!”
He held out a hand and waved me closer. I noticed, with a gaze that lingered
just a few more moments than it normally would, that he’d painted his
fingernails red. That must have been done after I’d left the first time. I
pushed past the twinge of trepidation I felt. “Come here. Fine. Come here.
You’re really ready for this, you little shit? Come here.”
I drew up to the order window, on my tip-toes to lean as close as I could. I
don’t think I stopped looking contentious the entire time. Levi leaned near me,
and whispered in my ear: “We fucked. We may fuck again tonight if I play my
cards right.”
My shoulders slumped and my brain went blank. My hands fell from the counter
edge just in time for Levi to slam the window shut in my face. “Good night!” He
sounded oddly happy as he shouted behind the glass. “Don’t you tell a fucking
soul or I will break your knees!” He added.
I looked at my watch. Sure enough, it was nine o’clock. I hadn’t even gotten a
donut.
***** Chapter 3 *****
A week or two, or whatever, it seemed like it didn’t matter, passed. My need
for hot dogs and Dr. Pepper only piqued until I thought about the fact that I
didn’t really want to go back to the donut shop and risk the embarrassment of
seeing Levi again. It was bad enough that Connie had noticed me staring
suspiciously at the Vice Principal while we ate lunch on the benches outside of
the admin building. Nothing was making sense. Not people, not relationships,
and definitely not my third period Chemistry class.
Armin offered his help if I would take it, and of course I did. We acted like
the Friday night slight had never happened, but since it we agreed silently to
not talk about his love life. The embargo on details lasted up until he was
sighing over my horrible chemical bonds homework, gearing up for what I was
expecting to be a lecture on how I needed to reexamine my basics if I wanted to
survive my test tomorrow.
“Before you say anything, I have no idea what I’m doing with that,” I tried to
head him off before he could make me feel stupid. He never meant to, and to be
honest Armin actually made a very agreeable tutor. I just took everything too
personally.
“It’s not that. This is simple, it will take me five minutes to explain it and
I promise you’ll get it quickly. Maybe you won’t pass the test, but it won’t be
my fault.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and ran his hands back through the
length of his hair contemplatively. “There’re just other things on my mind.”
I was instantly apprehensive. “Oh, yeah?”
“I know you don’t want to talk about it. Like, I know you’re the furthest thing
from gay and I hope I’m not making things weird by still being your best
friend. It’s—“
“What?” I hurried in shock to catch up to his ramblings, and finally stalled
him with my hands in the air. I rose to a straighter posture on my bed, which
was nearly as big as my room and the only place I could find the privacy to
study. “Whoa, Armin. Whoa. That’s totally not true, I don’t care, like you can
do whatever you want. I’m really okay with it, you’re not weird to me and this
isn’t weird.”
“Really?” He seemed relieved by this, enough so that I thought better about
adding besides, I don’t think I’m exactly the furthest thing from gay, but that
has yet to be decided.
“You don’t need to sound like you’re gratefulthat I’m a decent friend, you
know.”
“Sorry!”
I rolled my eyes and let his tendency to over-apologize slide. “So what is it?
Was that it?”
“It just seemed like I couldn’t talk to you about Jean.”
“Well—“ My voice got louder automatically at the name, and my eyebrows bent in
even more severely than usual.
“You don’t like him, I get that! Which I still don’t get!” Armin was frantic to
explain himself, like I would physically leave the room if he continued and it
was his responsibility to keep me. “But I’m so happy, Eren! I just have to say
something or I’m going to die. I can only write so much in a journal, and even
then I feel really... you know… lonely.”
“But you have a boyfriend.” I was a horrible little shit of a brat.
“I don’t know! It’s not official! That’s one of the things I wanted to talk
about!”
He just looked so sad, so desperate. If Armin wasn’t going to get everything he
wanted in life from the person who wound up falling in love with him, I’d be
damned. I could never manipulate people that way, and even if I tried it would
never seem like the gentle, well-intentioned manipulation that Armin knew
innately. “Okay, fine. What do you mean, will he not call you his boyfriend or
something?”
I’d known Armin since we were toddlers. The fact that I was thinking about
someone else getting close to him was bad enough. The fact that I worried about
him was worse. And then, the fact that it was that guy…
“We talked about it. Last night, we talked about it.”
“You’re going on Wednesday dates now?”
“On the phone, Eren,” he explained sourly. I shrugged. “I asked if we were
dating officially now, and he said yeah, he supposed we were. So I said I never
expected to have a boyfriend so quickly. He got all stupid and flustered after
that, like he was backtracking, saying he wasn’t sure if we were boyfriends
yet. Like, he seems to have some personal definition of that I can’t get out of
him. It’s already tiring.”
“Well, you know about his ex.”
“Yeah, apparently he was pretty incredible. He still talks about him a lot. Not
in a weird way, just he’ll be telling a story or talking about something, and
mention Marco before he realizes it, then he’ll look at me and say he’s sorry.
You know, he lays it on thick that he’s getting over it but he still looks
pitiful when he thinks about him. I just want to make him feel better.”
I had no idea what to say. I felt trapped. Maybe I could fake a sudden fit of
whooping cough. Maybe I could fall off the bed and break my leg. That would get
me out of the conversation. “Yeah…” I said, my eyes scanning for exits.
“Jean lost his virginity with him.” A pause. “Eren, what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to suffocate myself with this pillow,” I explained, muffled by
fabric.
Armin snatched the pillow from me and hit me with it. I flinched and actually
laughed, because at least it made Armin smile. “Stop it! You ass! This is
important to me, I really like him.”
“Well, if you really do, and you really want my advice…” Why? Why would you
want MY advice? “Just let it happen. Go on about your business and just do the
dating thing until he feels like opening up.”
Ugh. I felt like a total tool for that. Ugh. I felt like confronting Jean at
school, informing him apropos of nothing that he owed me now.
“It’s really hard, though. I can’t stop thinking about him. Especially now.”
“Yeah, obviously.” But there was something about the accent he’d put on nowthat
made me pause, squint, and prompt Armin for more. “Okay, wait, what do you mean
by that? What’s that look on your face? Armin, are you blushing?”
“It’s…”
“Armin, did you have sex with him?” I leaned forward over my knees and shouted.
“Keep it down! Mikasa’s here!”
“Why? Mikasa banged him, too! Maybe I should get a trophy for notsleeping with
Jean!”
“Shut up!” But Armin wasn’t just telling me to be quiet because I was being
annoying. He was upsetwith me. His eyes looked different and he was more
pointed in the way he ordered me. My shoulders slumped a little. That was
unexpected. “Shut up, okay? You’ve been talking like Jean’s this huge slut and
that’s not true! He was drunk, he thought Mikasa was pretty, and she wanted to
fool around so that’s why that happened! He wasn’t dating anyone but he didn’t
really wantto. He was hanging out with us because all his old friends knew him
through Marco! He needed a distraction! It’s been hardfor him, and he’d only
been with Marco before, so—“
Armin trailed off when he saw my face start to acquiesce. I rarely looked
abject, so he read my apology without needing to hear it. “Then he met me. He
said he liked me better at the start, but it’s a lot harder to approach boys.
You know… when you don’t know.”
“I’ll bet.”
I still couldn’t help feeling little to no sympathy for Jean, but Armin
inspired far more convincing emotions in my heart. I felt bad, but I wouldn’t
budge in my stubbornness long enough to let him know. “So… I mean… my question
still stands. Did you do it?”
Armin’s lips twitched up ever-so-slightly and I saw him gulp. “Not everything.
Like, I’m not ready for that yet. But, um…”
“Ooooo, someone got a b.j., sounds like.”
Armin’s face got redder by degrees, but instead of looking mortified he
actually smiled, finally hiding his face when he broke out into a grin. “Eren!”
Jealousy made me tease him further. “Ha! I’ll bet you didn’t last ten seconds
when that happened.”
He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip for a moment. “Shut up! It was, like,
my first time ever doing that!”
“I was kidding.”
He grabbed the same pillow I’d been using to suffocate myself, and fell back on
my bed, kicking his legs up excitedly. “Oh my god, it was amazing though! Jesus
Christ,I can’t stop remembering it, he’s so hot.”
“Ew! Gross! Stop!”
“No! No, you let me talk about it, and then you teased me, so I’m going to go
on about my hot not-boyfriend who sucked my dick!”
“Armin, ugh!”     
“I don’t even know, he’s just so… physical.We make out a lot.Like, I have a
feeling if we go out tomorrow night I’m gonna go down on him.”
It was weird, to suddenly have the roles reversed in my head. Armin
receivingsuch attention, now that was just funny and sort of uncomfortable, not
something I wanted to think about in detail but something I was almost proud of
him for. A milestone (I tried to not think of how far I was from the same
milestone). But then, thinking of Armin returning the favor… my brain snapped
into a more protective mode. A much more traditional mode.
“Oh, god,” I whispered. “You’d do that?”
“Eren…” He started warningly.
“This isn’t about him! Just, in general. You’d suck a dick?”
He raised a hand and wiggled his fingers, as if noting his presence in the
room. “Gay.”
I rolled my eyes, and filed away the fact that I was proud of him for finally
proclaiming it without hesitation. “I know, but… that just seems so gross.”
“Well, you’d better get over that feeling if you ever expect someone to do it
for you.”
“That’s different!”
“How?”
I wasn’t used to being pinned down in arguments with Armin. True, he often
talked circles around me, but not like this. When I couldn’t react, and only
stuttered a few times, he lifted one eyebrow as if to declare his victory and
gave a small “hm!” before sitting back up, pillow still clutched in his arms.
  
I changed the subject, pointing at him. “You’d better not have a boner right
now under that pillow.”
“No, I’m just being cute!” He snapped. “God! Fine, if you’re gonna be like that
I’ll tell you I already gave him a hand job.”
“You what?”
“Are we in 7th grade still? Did you miss the part where we’re 16 years old and
supposed to be getting on with it?”
“Yeah but you’re… Armin.”
“Yes I am! And I gave Jean a hand job on Tuesday night after we went to see
Forrest Gump. I am apparently good at it, too. And next time you see him you’re
gonna have to think about that. I’ve officially gotten more action than you
have.”
Okay, that stung. I grabbed another pillow from the corner of the bed and
clocked him with it. “So that’s why you didn’t call me after you got out of the
movie.” I quickly leaned over the same pillow, mimicking his supposedly “cute”
posture. Armin just laughed.
I begged him to get back to my Chemistry homework, at least for the time being.
“Fine, you did it. Congratulations, you win.”
Armin stuck his tongue out and grinned, and made a smooth transition back to
talking about my fundamental misunderstanding about noble elements. He seemed
so much lighter for the talk, as quick as it had come and gone. Being his
friend, his bestfriend, was going to become more trying for my sanity, I could
tell.
Especially since Iwas the one unexpectedly sporting a boner beneath the pillow,
hoping Chemistry would distract it into non-existence.
I coasted through the next day and probably made a solid C on my Chemistry test
(which was better than I could have hoped for if Armin hadn’t intervened).
Trying to seem innocuous, I asked Armin in the parking lot if he planned on
going out that night.
“Yes,” he explained with a shit-eating grin, knowing where my brain was.
“Okay, well, good luckwith your plans.” I rolled my eyes and picked up the pace
to catch up with Mikasa.
“Thank you! I’ll tell you all about it!” He called after me. Bastard. I didn’t
want to turn around, knowing that any moment Jean would show up, and who knows
how awkward the resulting interaction would be.
“Do you want to get donuts on the way home?” Mikasa asked.
I glared at her. She’d noticed the way my frequent snack breaks had dropped
off. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I want a donut suddenly. Maybe a hot chocolate, too.”
“It’s like 100 degrees.”
She sighed. “It’s in the mid-70’s, Eren. We’re going to get donuts. And that
place makes the best hot chocolate. God, you’re a brat.”
“You know, you’re only a year older than me.”
“Girls mature faster than boys.”
“Is that why you act like my mom?”
She leaned over and actually smacked the back of my head. “Don’t even say
something like that, you know how I feel about that. Fine, I was going to be
nice and buy you some food. Now you can pay for yourself. Fucking brat.”
She was pissed. I waited until we parked before I let out the frustrated sigh I
was holding, and we walked up to the order window in tandem.
Levi regarded me first, and then glanced at Mikasa. He did a double take, and
then looked back at me with a look so sharp it could cut glass. What?!I wanted
to say immediately.
“Mikasa, you don’t choose your company well.”
“You work here?” She asked Levi, her voice actually rising above the usual flat
tone of ennui.
“Since last week. It’s sort of to keep me in check.”
“Yeah, you’re only there on weekends now, right?”
“Friday and Saturday nights. I’m trying to just do shows. Laying off the other
shit. Productive member of society and everything. Why are you hanging out with
this brat?”
“Yeah! I just called him a brat, actually! Is he a little shithead when he
comes down here, too?”
“Always.”
Her tone softened. “He’s my step-brother, and he’s a pain in the ass but I love
him.”
I felt like falling into a hole and calling it a life as Levi fastened his eyes
on me for a particularly condescending glare. “You’re a patient soul, Mikasa.”
She laughed, which was a very strange sound coming from her in this particular
instance. I actually turned to her in shock, and tried to gauge whether she was
flirtingwith Levi. “You look so different in the daylight.”
“Yeah, dual identities. It’s a living. So are we hungry, or what?”
I couldn’t think clearly, and ate simply because food was put in front of me
(Mikasa still paid). Levi lamented not being able to join us (and by us, he
meant Mikasa) for the meal, so we finished up quickly and made it to the car.
“See you soon?” Levi called after Mikasa.
“Yeah, maybe tomorrow, if I can break away from home!” She replied, waving
goodbye.
Once we were in the car with the doors firmly closed, she turned to me and went
as somber as I’d ever seen or heard her be. “Okay, I swear to god, you cannot
even mention that I’m only a year older than you if you ever talk to him about
me.”
“Why would I talk to him about you? Why would I talk to him?Why are you being
weird? Mikasa, what the hell.”
She sighed and a look of guilt crossed her face. “I sort of… I sort of started
to get into the bar where he works, and they didn’t ID me, so now everyone
there thinks I’m 21. I really like going there. Don’t narc on me.”
I blinked quick and hard, crying out in shock as she pulled out of the parking
lot. “You’re sneaking into bars?!”
“Just one! Just because I wanted to see the show! But then it wound up being a
really fun place. Oh my god, Eren, don’t be a shitstain, I could get banned for
ten years if they find out.”
“What sort of show?” I asked gravely.
“Drag show,” she answered very quickly, like maybe if she said it fast enough I
wouldn’t hassle her nor mention it again.
“What’s a drag show?” I asked, somehow knowing I was about to feel very stupid.
“Are you absolutely serious?” She cried out, slapping the steering wheel
delightedly. I normally liked hearing Mikasa laugh, but this time it was
different. “A drag show, Eren.”
“Saying it slower and louder won’t change the fact that I don’t know what you
mean.”
“A drag show. Drag as in, drag queens. As in, men who dress up and impersonate
women.”
“What?” It still took me a few moments. “Oh, you mean like RuPaul?”
She chuckled as we turned into our mostly sand-covered driveway. ”Yeah, pretty
much.”
“God, you pick the weirdest stuff to get into. I can’t…” I trailed off, and
Mikasa stayed in the car with the keys in her hand, staring at me like she
expected me to get it at any moment. Slowly, the pieces connected. My face
screwed up. “Wait, he’s a drag queen?”
Mikasa just threw her head back and laughed all the way up the walk and into
our house.    
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     This chapter is basically just dialogue, because I am having a ball
     writing the dialogue for this story. Also, I've noticed many more
     readers! That makes me very happy! Your comments make me happy! I'm
     generally a happy person.
     P.S. Siouxsie Sioux is a goddess and you should totally look her up
     if you never have.
So, according to Armin, whom I let go on about it just because I needed more
help with my homework, blowjobs were scary things. “It’s ridiculous, not
knowing what to do. Like, there it is, it’s literally right there, and I knew
what I wanted to do, but then I wasn’t sure how to move or how to breathe,
whether to use my hands or not… I thought I embarrassed myself, honestly.”
I guess I was trying to be a better friend, too. I’d worked myself up to a
cringing detachment. “Did he… you know? Finish?”
“Uh, yes.”He shot me a look like I was the asshole for even suggesting the
alternative. “I’m not inept, Eren. But it was weird.”
“I mean, he knows you’re a virgin though. Of course you were going to be
nervous.”
Armin shrugged at my consolation attempt and continued to stew in his own
memories. “I thought I was doing okay but then I tried to go too far and
gagged, and I sort of lost my concentration from there. He said it was okay,
and at least he didn’t laugh at me, but…”
I closed my eyes tightly and tried to think of anything else but Armin gagging
on Jean’s dick. “Oh, god.”
“He’s bigger than he seemed when I was jerking him off. Like, a dick suddenly
seems a lotbigger when it’s in your mouth.”
“Stop.”
“Oh, shit, what if he expects me to bottom?”
“Armin.”
“I’m not letting that thing near my ass!”
“Armin.”
“Eren, I have no idea how anal sex works,” Armin admitted with what seemed to
be horror in his tone. At least he was finally paying attention to me.
“So?!”
“Like, what am I supposed to do? I can’t just go find a book about that!”
“Ask your boyfriend, apparently he’s been there, done that!”
Armin went silent, and little by little his tension ebbed. His face also fell,
and he looked down at the textbook in his lap. I realized what I’d done, how
I’d sounded.
“Armin, I’m sorry.”
“No… no, it’s okay. You’re right, I’ll just ask him. Let’s, uhh… let’s look at
this work, all right?”
“Armin…” I sighed, knowing that even for how sorry I felt, I still sounded
defeated by the fact. I reached out to touch his shoulder but he rolled my hand
off.
“It’s okay. You’ve already listened to me enough. I don’t want to totally trip
you out. I just don’t want to seem stupid when the time comes.”
The study session went on awkwardly until Armin had to go home to cook supper.
Telling myself that my courage was back, I took my awkward thoughts on a walk
and headed for the end of the street. Levi was smoking behind the donut shop
when I walked into the parking lot. He didn’t regard me, exactly; not when he
saw me approaching and not when I came right up to the wall and leaned against
it next to him. I focused on the top of the tree line behind the building.
“How does anal sex work?” I asked gently, shoring up all of my humility.
Levi flicked his cigarette at the ground and I heard him exhale loudly. “Bye,”
he said, and started to turn away from me.
“Wait! Wait, seriously, don’t go. I’m not trying to be a smartass.” I turned on
the most pitiful expression I could muster,
“What are you, family? You don’t strike me as the type.”
“Family?” I narrowed my eyes.
He rolled his. “Are you gay? Oh, god, why am I even asking?”
“It’s my friend.” I offered neither direct confirmation nor denial regarding
myself. Constantly hearing talk about Jean Kirschtein’s cock wasn’t doing me
any favors as far as figuring it out.
“Okay. Your friend. Yeah, sure, okay.” He snorted a subtle laugh and made for
the back entrance to the shop again, so I just raised my voice.
“I’m not lying! I just. I want to know.”
Levi grabbed at the back of his neck and turned on heel, making a show out of
being annoyed by my persistence. “I don’t know! I’ve been taking it up the ass
since I was 13, you think I knew the mechanics before I bent over for my first
daddy? I’m sure as hell not keeping track now. Shit, sometimes I just bite the
pillow and pray for a miracle.”
I knew what he was saying, basically, but in the simplest sense much of it
still sounded like code. All I could focus on, though, was, “13?”
He checked his watch. When he replied, he sounded colder than he had moments
before. “Yeah, I started early. I’m not proud of that or anything. I was
stupid.”
“So um… did it hurt?”
As I looked elsewhere, hoping my question hadn’t sounded too stupid, I heard
Levi grumble. Though I didn’t want to look right at him, I caught sight of him
for a moment when he rubbed his temples. “Jesus Fucking Christ… Yes! Have you
considered your asshole lately? You’re trying to put a banana in a buttonhole,
it was awful! And I’m a size queen, trust me, it’s a hard life.”
I hadn’t considered my asshole lately, so I squirmed when he put it that way. 
“Why the hell would you keep doing it?”
“Well, you see, It’s a cult. Millions of gay men have been perpetuating the
myth of gay sex just to lure in the naïve.” He paused. He sighed when I didn’t
react to his sarcasm. “It gets better. It feels amazing but you have to be
ready for it. There’s even a built-in make-you-scream button – in a good way –
but you’ve gotta work for it. It’s not like fucking girls who get all
Mississippi River down there if you do a little finger work, you have to bring
in some help.” He paused again. “Are you really asking for a friend?”
“Are you really a drag queen?”
“Why do you always counter questions with questions? Especially when you don’t
want to answer them?”
“Mikasa told me.”
“What, that you want the high hard one up your poop chute?”
“Okay, gross. No, she told me you’re a drag queen.”
He lifted his hands, mocking me. “Guilty as charged.”
I tried to hide how flummoxed I was. He just didn’t look it. Not at all. The
black hair, the black clothes, the pale skin, looking like he’d just stumbled
(pranced?) out of a Nine Inch Nails concert… nothing about Levi seemed to lend
itself to the sequins and flamboyance I only vaguely knew to be associated with
female impersonators. Sure, he wasn’t bad to look at. All told his proportions
were nice and his face, despite the sleepy, beady eyes, was flawless. I
reminded myself that I had no idea what to look for, though. Of course he
wasn’t going to look exactly like a woman already. “I’ve never met a drag queen
before.”
“From the way you were talking earlier, it seems you’ve never met a homosexual
either.” He put a purposeful lisp on the word ‘homosexual’, and when I glanced
over he was smirking at me.
I tried to make it obvious that I was surrendering with my next sigh.
“Actually, my best friend really is gay. He’s just new to the whole thing, so
he’s panicking about a lot of stuff he’s never dealt with before. And of
course, he’s panicking to me.”
“What sort of stuff? Anal sex, obviously, but that’s quite a leap if he’s new
to the whole thing. My first bit of advice would be, don’t start there.”
“He gave his first blowjob the other night, so there’s that.”
“Really?” He looked almost wistful. “Oh, wow. That’s adorable. Okay, I say
that, but what I’ve got in my mind are two cute little teenage boys fooling
around after school. I’m not imagining my own experiences. Those were hardly
adorable.”
“No, you had it right the first time.” Jean Kirschtein’s fucking horse face
notwithstanding.
“Adorable.”
I was thinking about it again. Even if it was Armin, even if I was supposed to
be on the lookout for some girl to woo before December, there was no stopping
the flood of considerations taking over my mind. I’d popped enough awkward
boners already with that on my mind. I certainly didn’t want to keep it up in
front of Levi (literally). “Um, I’m curious now. What do you look like as a
woman?”
“I thought you wanted me to explain anal sex. I’m already late from my break.”
“Um…” I shuffled my feet and tried to stay cool. “Well, I’m not doing anything
tomorrow night. Do you work?”
He lifted an eyebrow; suspiciously, severely. “Yeah, I’ll be here until the
usual.”
“And your other job?”
“Not tomorrow night,” he said it quickly and launched right into an
interrogation. “You really want to talk tomorrow after I get off work? Sure you
don’t want to send your friend to learn about the birds and the bees? Or should
I say the bees and the bees?”
“No, I think he’d have a cow if he knew I was even asking on his behalf.”
“So he thinks you’re straight?”
The inference wasn’t completely unexpected, but it still made me bury my face
in my hands for a second. “That’s not the point! He’s… he’s embarrassed.”
“Yeah, and you seem totally casual about it.”
“Levi!” Was all I could muster, begging him with a whine to take things
seriously.
“Yeah, that’s right. Say my name.” He pursed his lips quickly at me and opened
the door before I could protest or even react. “Be here tomorrow night. I’m not
going to give you another chance!”
For three hours the next evening I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling while
my favorite Pearl Jam album played and repeated nearly four times on the
stereo. Finally I got up in the middle of “Dissident” and turned the music off,
letting silence take over, trying to decide whether I wanted to make my
homework an excuse for not showing up, or finish it all frantically before
class the next morning.
Mikasa knocked on the door of my bedroom. At least, I could only assume it was
Mikasa. She always knocked the same way. “What?”
She was wearing a black and white babydoll dress and a pair of high heels.
Obviously she was dressed up for something. Mikasa normally didn’t wear makeup,
so the lipstick stood out against her pale features. “Do you need the car? I’m
going out,” she informed me.
“Going to go sneak into a bar?” I sneered.
“Maybe! Maybe I am. Or maybe I have a date. You don’t know and I’m not going to
tell you.”
“You’re not going on a date at 8:30 on a Sunday. Besides, wouldn’t he be
picking you up?”
“Maybe it’s a date with a girl. Maybe I don’t conform to standard gender roles.
Or maybe I’m sneaking into a bar.”
“Whatever.” I fell back onto the bed. “No, I don’t need the car.”
“Cool. Have a good night. If you decide to jerk off in the living room make
sure you throw things away afterward this time.”
“What?” I sat straight up again.
She left without another word, and I felt my soul slip away from my body, curl
itself into a tiny, super-dense ball, and bury itself beneath the earth. 
My homework could definitely wait.
A large Styrofoam cup full of Dr. Pepper did little to occupy my time as I
waited in the darkness at one of the tables at the donut shop, unsure of what I
was even doing there but sure that I didn’t want to be at home when Mikasa
returned. Riding to school with her the next day would be mortifying enough.
Being 16 was just turning out to be mortifying every step of the way, though.
The lights at the shop went out and I braced myself, told myself to stay cool
as I heard Levi’s wallet chain jingling, boots crunching in the gravel as he
approached. Before he said anything, a bag landed on the table in front of me.
“Leftover crullers. I saved you the two that weren’t dried out and disgusting.”
“Um… thank you.” I almost grabbed for the bag but then realized I wasn’t
planning on going anywhere.
“So this place is dreary as fuck, and it looks like we should be doing a drug
deal if we stay here. I can see a cop rolling up if we just keep hanging out in
this neighborhood after business hours.” I kept my eyes forward but heard him
pull out a cigarette and light it. I didn’t know what to say. “Want to drive
down to the park or something?”
“The park?” I finally looked over at him. In the low light I could see him flip
his bangs and nod. “That’s like ten miles from here.”
“I have a car.” He sighed. “I’m just saying, I don’t really want to get
approached by the cops.”
“Why not?” I asked, bristling with suspicion.
“I’m on probation, dingus. Even if I’m not doing anything wrong it’s this whole
ordeal. Come on, we’re going to the park.”
He started to walk toward his Camaro. I stayed behind, though I did stand up.
“You’ve been arrested?” I nearly shrieked. I certainly didn’t feel like getting
in the car with him at that point.
“Yes,” he answered plainly. “Booked for drugs when I was your age, but most
recently it was something else.”
“Something else?” His tone didn’t inspire confidence. 
“Assault,” he said quickly. He knew that an explanation was in order, and he
stepped closer to give it. “It’s a long story. I was defending myself. Things
were complicated. The charges were dressed up to keep me from going to jail for
prostitution. So, simply put, you’re not in danger unless you’re either
planning on knifing me or you have the money to pay.”  
“So why would you be paranoid about the cops?”
He turned to me sharply, but noticed that I’d followed him by one step. “Why
would you ever notbe paranoid about the cops? The police are the reason I’m
fucked up. They don’t protect shit unless you look and act the part. Try being
gay and poor in this city for about a week and see how far you get.”
“But you were—“
He met my stride and stuck a finger in my face. “Have I told you lately about
not knowing what you’re talking about? You don’t know shit about what you’re
talking about. So shut it now. Shut it right now.”
He was abrasive, he was mysterious, he was a criminal, and he couldn’t care
less whether I came along or not. But he was being something that I valued far
more than I worried about those other things: honest. Ever since I was little,
I’d simply knownwhen people were lying. It’s why I was so bad at it, myself.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said, after calming myself out of the knee-jerk
requirement to be a smartass brat.
“Cool. You joining me, then?”
His car was immaculate. I’d expected something close to the way Mikasa and I
treated her Buick, which was presently full of empty drink cups and discarded
food wrappers, probably a few things my dad needed to sign from the school. But
the interior of Levi’s Camaro was spotless. For a moment I wasn’t sure how to
act when I wasn’t shifting clutter and garbage aside just to find a comfortable
seat.
I held the bag of donuts in my lap, and as soon as he closed the door (tossing
his cigarette aside as he did), the first thing Levi said was, “No eating in
the car, by the way.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“That’s very good.”
Music came on at full blast as soon as he turned the key in the ignition, but
he was quick to reach in and lower the volume. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said, sitting very still, listening to place the music. I
recognized it being by Depeche Mode, but I had no idea what the name of the
song was. “I know this band.”
“Depeche Mode is one of my favorite bands.” He waited for a car to pass and
turned into the road heading east out of the neighborhood. “So don’t talk any
shit.”
“I just said I knew them,” I said gloomily. “I never heard much besides what’s
on the radio.” We were quiet and I wondered if I would need to initiate the
important conversation. Of course, I didn’t initiate it. “So what other music
do you listen to?”
“The Smiths, The Pixies, Siouxsie Sioux, Oingo Boingo. I’m actually working on
my Siouxsie Sioux right now. I’ll probably premiere that next week. I hope.”
“What?”
“Oh.” He realized I didn’t know what he meant. “Um, drag queens. When we do
shows, we lipsync and perform, usually to famous singers. I’ve been doing
Madonna for a while, but I’m not a huge Madonna fan, so I’m trying to work on
something I want to do. I just finished sewing the dress from “Kiss Them For
Me”, so now all I have to do is get the hair right.” He paused and glanced at
me. “You have no idea what to even visualize, do you?”
“No…”
“I have the tape, actually. I’ve been practicing in the car.”
With one hand he reached over and expertly shuffled through the tapes in his
center console, finding one without even looking at it and switching it with
Depeche Mode. I didn’t interrupt as the song started. I recognized it, though.
I’d heard it on the radio. Not like I was going to tell Levi that.    
When we reached the park, we still hadn’t spoken beyond that. I fidgeted with
the bag but didn’t want to make too much noise. Levi noted my nervousness as we
came to a stop in the parking lot. “Are you freaked out by me?” He asked.
“No!” I answered immediately, but the way he tilted his head at me indicated
how clearly he saw through that ruse. “I mean… maybe a little. You’re really…
you know…”
“I’m intimidating. So I’ve been told by many before you. I can’t really help
it. But you, you came on like a hurricane when I first met you, and suddenly
you’ve turned into a little pansy. What’s the deal?” He poked me in the arm. I
rubbed the spot and glared at him.
“I’m just weirded out, is all.”
“I’m flattered.” He chuckled but stopped just as quickly. “No really, is it
because of the arrested thing?”
“I guess it is.”
“I’ll tell you all about it when I’m ready. It’s really not as bad as it
sounds. I did things wrong only in the most technical sense, unless you’re a
fucking puritan. Like I said, it’s complicated. So if I promise to tell you,
sometime, do you promise to unclench your ass around me?”
I almost smiled. He may have been crude, but he was actually pretty funny.
Being how I was, though, I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. “Yeah.”
“Shake on it.” He held out a hand. His nails were still painted. I sighed
deeply and looked at it.
“Wow. This isn’t foreplay, kid, it’s just a handshake.”
I curled my lip and finally shook Levi’s hand while he scoffed at me. “You are
so uptight. I’m curious, have you ever even kissed anyone before?”
“Kissed? Yes! Yes, of course I’ve kissed plenty of—“ don’t say boys don’t say
boys don’t say boys “—people!”
I’d never kissed anyone.
“So kissing is no big deal, right?”
“Hell no! You know, making out at parties and stuff. No big deal at all!”
I stared at him, horrified that he was seeing right through me like he tended
to do. Levi blinked twice. “Let’s make out, then.”
“Eh? Right here?” It was just as I’d feared.
“Well it’s no big deal,right? I’m bored, we’re not talking about anything,
let’s make out.”
“Like, at parties and stuff! Or alone!” While I proceeded to freak out, I
noticed his mouth quiver slightly. I felt quite clearly, suddenly, that he was
screwing around with me. Calling my bluff, that’s all he was doing. Testing the
limits of my naivete.  
“Oh? So you’d rather I meet you somewhere later? We can make out then?”
I was determined to show him that I saw through his little game, and leaned
closer to sass back in his face. “You’re supposed to be telling me things!
Educating me! Besides, I’m not…”
“What? You’re not gay? How can you tell, because of how many girls you’ve
fucked? Please. Look at me and tell me you haven’t been thinking about how
pretty I am, and guess what, I’m very much a man, just like you.”
I looked at him.
“Just say it, Eren. Contentious little son a bitch you are, it shouldn’t be any
problem to just deny something, unless it’s something important.”
I was silent, my face getting colder and angrier.
Levi leaned forward and pushed one long-fingered hand up through my hair.
“Ding-dong, you like schlong,” he sang at me.
I punched him in the arm. He only flinched from surprise, and rubbed the spot
with a sneer on his face. “Don’t call me a son of a bitch,” I muttered.
He was silent for a beat before saying “I’m sorry.” It sounded sincere enough.
Then, as he draped one arm over the steering wheel and looked out at the park
lit by street lamps, he sighed. “You know what, fuck the park. It’s what, 9:30?
There’s somewhere better we can go.”
“What?”
“Baptism of fire, Eren. Baptism of fire.”
I gulped audibly, terrified of what he might be planning as he threw the car
into reverse, singing along to Siouxsie Sioux in a joyfully wobbly tenor.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Whoomp, there it is.
     Heeeey so this fic got much more popular than I expected in less than
     a day. I hope everyone's doing well, and I hope you enjoy this next
     installment. Now comes the part where I get ridiculously nervous
     about the whole thing, hoping I don't misstep even though the fic is
     very plotted in my mind already. I just hope no one is let down on a
     shipper level -- on any shipper level, which is part of me being
     ridiculous. But at the same time, welcome to the story, it's weird in
     here??? I don't know guys, just sit back and enjoy the ride.
     Levi's dressed like dominatrix!Madonna and Hanji's in this chapter, I
     really don't know how I can't just put my hands up like I'm riding a
     rollercoaster and shout "HAPPY HUMP DAY!!!"
     HAPPY HUMP DAY!!!
Years later, I was sure, someone would ask me “Eren, what about the first time
you went to a gay bar?” Well, funny you should ask, because I didn’t goso much
as I was driven against my will and without prior knowledge to the parking lot
outside of my first gay bar. The sign was rather ubiquitous, simply proclaiming
“BAR” in blinking red letters with an arrow that pointed to the (also red)
door. I shot Levi a desperate look when we parked, but he had already stopped
the engine and was leaving the car.
“Uh, hello? I can’t get in. I’m only 16, remember?”
“No, you can get in. I’ll get you in. Hanji’s working the door, and you’re with
me.”
“I think my step-sister might be here. What if she’s here?”
“Oh, come on,” Levi held the door open with one foot still inside the car, and
leaned in to eye me. He’d just gotten his hair trimmed, I noticed, before I
told myself to stop looking so closely at his neck.  “She’s underage, too.”
“What? You knew?”
He didn’t really dignify my shock with a response. “If this place ever got
busted there would be a lot more to worry about than underage patrons, trust
me. Come on, get up. Off your cute little ass, get up.”
I used the darkness as a cover for the fact that he made me blush with that
particular remark. I hatedthat he could do that to me.
There was a name in hand-painted script on the door, almost chipped away to
leave a dull sheen of black. It came into sharper focus the closer we got. THE
BENT DUCAT.
“What’s a ducat?” I asked as Levi opened the door ahead of me. The smell of
smoke and sweat and alcohol hit me immediately, and I couldn’t help leaning
into it.
“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Levi answered, but I didn’t have time to
check on how sarcastic he was being. I was too distracted by the figure
suddenly blocking our path, rushing toward us, and yelling all at once.
“What the hell are you doing here on a Sunday?” It was a joyous sort of
interrogation, but it still scared the piss out of me.
I stopped in my tracks and actually took a step back, but it was too late. I
was just in time, in the perfect place, to be caught between Levi and what I
could only perceive to be an incoming hug monster. This hug monster, however,
had tits. They were small, but keep in mind that I could only tell because I
felt them very clearly in my face. All over my face.
“Hanji. Hanji, you’re going to smother the boy. Hanji, please.”
Hanji (I assumed) drew back and looked down at me. “You brought a friend?” It
was said with such a velvet lilt that I didn’t even have to wonder about the
innuendo.
“Not like that!” Levi’s fingers clutched my shoulders as if to push me forward
in offering. My heart began to beat in time with the loud dance music pouring
through from the interior. “This is Eren. Eren is a friend of mine. Notthat
kind of friend, Hanji. Stop giving me that look.”
Hanji’s look seemed to be somewhere between jealousy and morbid curiosity. “Uh-
huuuuhhhh…”
I heard Levi snort derisively next to my ear. “Please, you think I’d be running
down a shrimp like this with my options?”
“Options. What are you doing about those? Anyway, I’m not one to rag on you
about your love life.”
“But you still do,” Levi groused. “Seriously, he’s just a friend.”
Hanji flipped the end of a ponytail over one shoulder, smirked, and bent down
to look me in the eye. “Pleased to meet you, Eren!”    
“This is Hanji,” Levi explained. “Hanji’s been my best friend since I quit
school. I’d probably have settled down to a deep, fulfilling, and boring life
with Hanji by now if she hadn’t decided to become a woman.”
I was slightly confused, but Hanji’s laughing face was doing a good job of
putting me at ease (to an extent. I was still in Levi’s talons, after all). She
shook my hand and I’m sure my face blanched at the strength of her grip.
“Hiiiii.”
“Hey,” I tried not to be nervous. “What’s up?”
“Not the most important thing, anymore,” Levi mumbled as he breezed past with a
sigh. Hanji smacked him on the back.
“I heard that!” She turned to me for some (much needed) clarification. “It took
five years but I finally went through my reassignment surgery in March. He’s
been a total bitch ever since, like he has enough of a dick to talk.”
My eyes searched out Levi, who started in on Hanji with a strong, “Bitch,
please…” before he noticed my face. I was still pleading silently. He reached
over and grabbed my hand. I lost my footing when he yanked me forward. “Baby’s
first gay bar. Let’s do this.” I stumbled right into him.
Hanji, I was starting to realize, had exceptional hearing. “Awww, you little
cutie!” She ruffled my hair as she passed. “Sorry to throw my freak in your
face, first thing.”
I was trying to reconcile the fact that I was staring at her ass, rather
transfixed, when Levi’s voice dropped an octave and he chuntered in a way I
hadn’t yet heard. “Shit.”
“What?”
His hand tightened on mine, which was just as well because I still felt like a
three year old being shown around the new preschool. He leaned closer to
whisper, “He’s here.”
Seeing him flustered was unexpected, but hearing it in his voice actually made
a nervous ball form in my throat. “Who?” I managed to ask.
“Your fucking Vice Principal.” He turned completely toward me, mumbling and
looking everywhere else the way people do when they don’t want to seem
suspicious (which looks even more suspicious, but maybe that was just me).
“He’s sitting at the bar.”
I already didn’t really want to look, but it was hard to deny that he stood
out. Vice Principal Erwin Smith, out of his suit and tie and obviously making
Levi a nervous wreck.
“Wow,” I had to use my moment of power where I found it. “You’ve got it bad,
don’t you?”
What the hell is that tone of voice, Jaeger? Are you jealous?It was almost like
Levi said it, in my head, until I realized I’d been thinking it for myself. I
tugged at my hand until I’d freed it from Levi’s. He was (much to my delight)
fumbling with his words. “It’s a long… you don’t… I can’t… you don’t get it,
kid!”
“Oh, no, I think I get it.” I decided to try my hand at the sort of cruel
teasing he made seem so easy.
It didn’t work. Levi twisted his face close to mine and growled. “Let’s find a
seat and hope he doesn’t think I’m fucking a child.”   
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” We were joined by Hanji, who slipped her hand around Levi’s shoulder to
rejoin our conversation already in progress. I had the same ability with Armin,
sometimes, to just know what was being said even if I’d missed half of the
events as they unfolded. “He’s been here for about an hour.”
Levi turned to her expectantly. I was made only slightly uncomfortable by the
kismet they exhibited in their silence.
“I’ll take him off your hands if you want to go and say hello,” she offered.
She was talking about me.
Oh, so I was something to be taken off of his hands, was I? My expression
mirrored the sour feeling that ran through me, but it was hard to keep it up as
Hanji winked at me behind her glasses. Then I remembered I’d been the one
wrenching away from his hand in the first place.
“Yeah…” Levi’s voice trailed as if in a trance, and he wandered off.
“Wow,” I assessed the situation simply.
“He’s got it bad,” Hanji added. “Let’s go sit down!”
She guided me in the opposite direction, to a cluster of tables in front of an
empty stage. We wove between occupied seats and she plopped down into a chair.
No doubt, she read the expression on my face as I joined her at the table. “Oh,
no, kid, you don’t want to go down that road.”
“What?” I tensed up and tried to act like I was clueless, and not already
firing on all pistons of fabricating some defense.
“Levi’s a mess. You don’t want in on that game, especially not at your age.”
“I don’t like him!” I said, closing my eyes tightly. “I promise, that’s not it!
I don’t even… I don’t even know why I’m here!” Wasn’t it illegal,what she was
suggesting?
Another, slightly slower, song began to play on the sound system. I glanced
over at the people dancing a few feet away, the men sitting close at their
tables, the girls smiling flirtatiously as one another. I was just supposed to
help Armin… right?
“Ah,” Hanji played with her hair, twirling one strand around her finger
compulsively. “That I do understand. Levi likes taking young gays under his
wing, like he doesn’t have enough of his own shit to handle as it is.”
“I’m not—“ I was getting sick of defending myself, and gave it up when Levi
appeared at our table, seemingly short of breath.
“I’m going on,” he informed both of us at once, but neither of us directly. “I
told him I’d go on. Hanji, do you really mind keeping Eren company? I’ll take
like thirty minutes to get ready, tops.”
“I’m not the one to worry about. I practically live here,” she responded,
fixing Levi with a chastising look. I was glad someonesaw that he was being
unfair.
“You don’t mind, do you?” He asked me. I hadn’t expected him to sound so…
darkabout it. There was no arguing that tone, if I wanted to keep my nose in
one piece.
“Uh, nope. That’s fine, you go on!” I lifted my hands in the sort of surrender
that’s just insincere enough to seem innocuous. Levi didn’t have time to call
my bluff this time, so he just took it.
He was already reaching up to remove the spiked collar from around his neck.
“Damn right you don’t mind.”
“What song?” Hanji asked.
Levi sucked in a bracing breath and scanned the room as if he expected ninjas
to swoop in and interrupt. “My Siouxsie’s not ready yet, and besides, it’s him,
so… ‘Erotica’.”
Hanji opened her mouth on an unspoken word and her eyebrows shot up. She was
somewhere between shocked and delighted by the news. “Shit, I didn’t bring a
change of panties.”
“At least I can do the makeup in like ten seconds now. You don’t wear panties.”
Levi sighed and started to step away. At the last moment, he remembered himself
and leaned closer to me. I felt his personality return to normal for those
moments as his lips pressed close to my ear, fingers clutching my shoulder
tightly. He smelled like cloves and smoke. “You’re going to get one of your
questions answered, at least.”
Ah, yes, there is was. My first awkward boner of the evening. I shut my eyes
tightly and tried to think of Jean Kirschtein just to will it away. It wasn’t
working. That just made me think of blowjobs. Rushing for a cover, I went to
Levi again. I thought of the strangely arousing, terrible ways he’d described
certain things. For some reason my dick just got harder at that. I prayed for a
distraction.
“So how old are you?” Hanji asked me.
A drink had spontaneously appeared in front of her. Levi was gone.
“16,” I answered, trying to be quiet about it.
Her palms hit the table but she maintained some merciful decorum. “Jesus, Levi,
start ‘em early, why don’t you…?” She glanced in what I could only assume was
the direction he’d disappeared. “That means you’re in high school.”
I nodded.
“That means you’re in his high school.”
No need to clarify what we were both well aware of. “Listen, all I know about
the Vice Principal is his name and the fact that he and Levi apparently... you
know… did it.”
I knew I sounded naïve. Thankfully, Hanji didn’t draw attention to this. “You
say that like it was only once.”
“I have definitely not asked for details.”
She was sharp. Her eyes narrowed by a single degree and her pretty lips twisted
very subtly. “But you want them.”
“Heeeeeyyy…” I leaned back in my chair, holding up my palms haltingly.
“Well, I’ll tell you this: I’ve known Levi for most of my life. I’ve known him
as a gay man and now I’ve known him as a woman. I know him better than most.
And let me tell you, he’s not acting the way he usually acts when he just wants
to get on someone’s dick.” She just went intoit, so fluidly, so casually.
“Simply put, he gossips like a queen. I know everything whether I want to or
not. He’d give me a detailed report even if he fucked my dad, I’m pretty sure.
But this whole situation has been the Levi version of a media blackout.”  
I tried not to say it. I didn’t want to say it. “Do you think it’s serious?”
She half-rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know. Let’s just hope that your Vice
Principal doesn’t recognize you and go heading for the hills before Levi gets
his chance, that’s all.”
I could only imagine the sort of ass-kicking I’d get from Levi if that
happened, no matter how strongly I reminded him that he’ddragged me here.
Approximately thirty minutes passed in conversation. Hanji asked me if I wanted
to dance to kill time. I just laughed, perhaps too brightly, at the thought. I
was doomed, it seemed, to spend most of the night at half-mast. Dancing would
have been out of the question even without that detail, of course.
At least Mikasa wasn’t around, I reminded myself with no small amount of
relief. My mind wandered only momentarily to what she might be doing instead,
before the lights on the stage suddenly flickered on. It was an inexpensive
lighting set-up, obviously old, but it did the job. A murmur went through the
place. Hanji’s eyes scanned the area critically as I heard people start moving
in to fill the seats surrounding the stage. “Good,” she said, just sotto enough
that she seemed inconspicuous. “He’s sitting on the other side of the stage.
Just stay close to me and he shouldn’t see us through the rest of the crowd.”
The strategic plan was enough to keep me thinking until a voice came over the
sound system. The MC that appeared on stage was a tall, visibly aging man who
gave a short announcement, seemed to tell a few jokes (I couldn’t actually make
out much of what was being said), and informed the assembled crowd that there
would be a surprise show from…
“Tyranny Dazell?” My face contorted as I tried to make sense of the rather
stupid name, and turned to Hanji for some confirmation that I’d heard right.
“Tirne des Ailes,” Hanji repeated with a more pronounced French accent. “It’s
her name. Levi is so pretentious. ‘des Ailes’ is French for ‘the wings’. He’s
got a weird thing for wings. Got a pair tattooed on his back, actually.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t even aware when I filed that detail away for future reference.
No surprise, since I had no time to focus on anything but the total stranger
who appeared from stage left.
To say it was a complete transformation would be an understatement. To say that
I was instantaneously aroused, also an understatement. I recognized the costume
from the Madonna video that got banned from primetime TV, which I only saw once
when I stayed up with Mikasa until one a.m. watching MTV, hoping to catch it.  
The tight, brushed black leather mini-dress hit the middle of Levi’s thighs and
wrapped him in a corset that flared up into a sheer mock suit top complete with
collar, cuffs, tie, and tits. He was suddenly blonde. He was suddenly… female.
“Oh my god,” I breathed, leaning forward slightly.
“Some of it’s padding, but yeah.” Hanji informed me. “Under the baggy t-shirts
Levi’s got some killer hips and legs. For a dude especially, but even for a
chick they’re pretty bangin’.”
Said legs were wrapped in a pair of ridiculously high-heeled black patent
leather boots that tapered just above his knees. I’d barely had time to notice
the song, I was so transfixed by the way he was parading around with a slow,
deliberate step, pausing every now and then to kneel at the edge of the stage.
A couple of paces off from us, he opened his legs at the deepest point of his
crouch, and turned to look directly at me.
The bullwhip in his hand suddenly became very apparent as he pointed it right
at me to mouth the line “put your hands all over my body.”
“What the fuck happened? How did he--” I asked. My eyes couldn’t help sweeping
over his body. His legs were still open where he knelt. I considered myself
above judgment for being particularly fascinated by the rather spectacular view
of his crotch. “Where did his balls go?” I was genuinely curious, and a little
horrified.
Hanji choked on her drink next to me. “Oh, honey.”
With a rustle of movement, she held up a five dollar bill and beckoned Levi
with it. I glanced back and forth between them, even as Levi bent down and
began to move on his hands and knees toward her. I don’t know that I entirely
wanted to, but it felt right to lean back, as far away from the action as I
could get.
With a loud “woo!”, Hanji slipped the bill into the top of Levi’s boot. When he
turned to move back to his feet, she stood halfway out of her seat and smacked
him squarely on the ass. Levi turned around and winked at me – me.On purpose. -
- with the most confusing smile on his stupidly beautiful face.
My eyes followed his backside as he slowly strutted his way around, away from
us, continuing to handle the bullwhip suggestively. I actually had to tear my
eyes away.
No, this is all fake. This is only happening to you because he’s dressed like a
girl. He’s doing this on purpose! Eren, snap out of it. Stop looking at his
ass. Stop looking at asses in general.
The mantra continued, to varying degrees of self-discipline. I was looking at
my hands until Hanji poked me in the arm to make sure I was paying attention to
Levi on the other end of the stage. “Here we go, watch this.”
He paused at the very edge of the stage and lowered himself into a sitting
position so gracefully that I wondered for a moment whether he’d had dance
training. Probably not, considering what else I know about him.   
“I don’t think you know what pain is,” Madonna sang and Levi mimicked, and I
leaned up a little in my chair as he stepped into the crowd. It hardly took a
straight-C student to figure out where he was headed. “I don’t think you’ve
gone that way. I could bring you so much pleasure.”I couldn’t see much, but my
view was good enough to see Levi lift the bullwhip in both hands and bring it
down behind Vice Principal Smith’s head, stepping forward and straddling his
lap without losing stride. “I’ll come to you when you say.” The crowd cheered
it on and I saw a genuinely devilish smirk on Levi’s painted face. He leaned
forward, his lips an inch from Erwin’s (it wasn’t even worth it to think of him
as a school administrator anymore, I figured). I actually held my breath and
nearly breathed the next line along with him. “I know you want me.”
He just paused there, completely still while they stared at one another. There
was a weird crackling tension that went through the entire scene for a moment
or two. I saw his eyes flick downward. Hanji let out a pointed breath and I
turned, stunned back to the reality that there were other people in the room.
“He’s slutting it up more than usual,” she noted quickly, fanning herself.
Levi finally moved back, off of Erwin’s lap and back onto the stage to continue
the song to its finish. Hanji seemed to be deducing the situation next to me.
“Get comfortable, honey,” she said, reaching around to slap me on the back.
“You’re not leaving for a while.”
“Uh…”
I didn’t quite know what she meant, but Hanji leaned close to whisper:
“Someone’s getting his ass fucked tonight. You just witnessed a mating dance,
my child.”
I couldn’t speak, as much as I wanted to express something close to disgust. I
found nothing like that. What I did have to distract me, though, was a bit of
anxiety. “I need to get home. What if he leaves?”
The song ended and Levi made the rounds, collecting tips from the crowd that
applauded and whooped for his efforts. “He won’t,” Hanji assured me, clapping.
“Despite how he acts, Levi takes care of people.”
Booted high heels stopped in front of us and Levi bent down. “Wait for me,” he
looked right at me and said. “I’ll take you home.”
I tried not to think about the wording much. Things were too confusing already
between my legs. I didn’t need them getting confusing between my ears. And
then, as he had the tendency to do, he disappeared.  
I waited, and at some point started to ask Hanji about her favorite TV shows
and movies. We wound up talking about Star Trek: The Next Generation until she
had to close up the place (she was part owner, it turned out. Otherwise she was
on her fifth year of working on a doctoral dissertation that was wrapped up in
university politics. I knew more about her in two hours than I’d learned about
Levi in a month). I was sitting alone at the table, alone in the otherwise
empty bar at nearly 3 a.m., mind still reeling, when Levi re-appeared. The
spell had worn off. He looked like a boy again. There were no words as he
approached, but I noticed something definitely off-kilter about his expression.
He stumbled just a bit before he fell heavily into the chair next to me.
I shot him a sideways glance after he was quiet for several seconds. His pale
cheeks had apples of color in them. His eye makeup, though mostly removed, was
smudged where it remained. His hair was disheveled. His eyes weren’t as sharp
as usual; in fact, he looked blank. Serene, almost.
“I can’t feel my legs,” he finally said in a ragged but triumphant voice.
He was downright chipper when he dropped me off at my house, but I could barely
look him in the eye as I said goodnight. I neglected to thank him. I ignored
whatever Mikasa had written for me on a note on the dining room table, and
locked the door to my room. I pulled the covers up to my nose and tried not to
think about anything on the other side of the dawn as I reached beneath them. I
was thinking of Levi’s legs in those high heeled boots, spread wide around
Erwin’s waist. I thought of him with fake tits and a fantastic ass, but it all
got muddled when I realized that I was also thinking of him without makeup,
without the blonde wig.     
I was thinking about him getting fucked not as a girl, but as a man; so hard
that he couldn’t feel his legs after. I was thinking about his face softening
and his mouth opening up, thinking about him losing his composure and
screaming, unable to contain his pleasure. I was thinking about that damned
song. The images started to flash together a little too quickly to be
discerned, but by the time I came with a whine I was definitely thinking about
Levi sucking my cock while I looked down at the wings on his back.
“Oh, no,” I whispered into the darkness of my room, slowing my sticky hand
until I’d stilled completely. “This is not good. This is really not good.”
I wasn’t referring to suddenly needing a new set of sheets on the bed.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     Okay, so it might end up being longer than 7 or 8 chapters.
     You guys have blessed this mess with some interesting questions that
     I now want to answer, even though for the sake of brevity I may not
     be going into everything.
     Seriously, though, thanks for blessing this mess. I do try to respond
     to every comment, I just never expected so many. Therefore, responses
     may be slightly delayed. Comments give me life, though.
     And the fanart.... *fans self* Are you serious? That's like winning
     the fanfic Stanley Cup.
     I want to point out that, despite my usual tendency to be overly
     detailed about things, I did not look up whether the Steelers and the
     Ravens played each other on a Monday night in 1994. I actually
     consider this a good sign for my sanity and control issues.
I poured a bowl of Corn Flakes and added two spoonfuls of sugar. As I poured
the milk I thought about how I used to get so irritated at Mikasa for pouring
her milk first and then adding the cereal, how I just got more and more vocally
irritated until mom forced her to start doing it “the right way”.
There wasn’t really a right way, I thought, shoveling the overly-sweet cereal
into my mouth hungrily and letting the milk drip down my chin. There wasn’t
really a right way to do anything, unless you were taking a chemistry test or
explaining quadratic equations. It just mattered where you ended up. I’d always
gotten bent out of shape, though, all my life, when people did things
differently.
That morning I couldn’t really process the irony of realizing it. I just
thought about mom, allowing myself the few minutes I usually did once a month
or so to remember her quietly. I was thinking about my ninth birthday party,
the first month that Mikasa lived with us, when I noticed that there was a girl
in the kitchen.
I stopped the spoon halfway to my mouth and we looked at each other. She was
skinny and blonde, just standing there in front of the open fridge in a Pacers
throwback jersey and bare feet.  Even more unnerving than her simply
beingthere, she was glaring at me like I was the jerk for wondering how and
when she had gotten into my house.
“Good morning,” she said, and it sounded like she put a bratty question mark at
the end just to show me how highly she thought of the way I was staring.
Not this morning.I sighed and shook my head, not even bothering to ask who she
was or why she was there. “Good morning.”
The light from the fridge washed her already-pale skin out even more; with her
long nose and wide-set eyes she reminded me of Uma Thurman. She retrieved a
bottle of Gatorade and closed the door, padding back into the hallway while I
finally remembered the note Mikasa left for me the previous night. I reached
across the table and pulled it over so that I could read.
Eren,
I_have_a_friend_over,_she’s_staying_the_night._Please_don’t_be_weird.
-Mikasa
Being weird was something I obviously couldn’t avoid, although I was lost in a
world of suddenly having some perspective on just how weird things really got.
Mikasa entered the kitchen herself within a few minutes, bringing a bagel over
on a paper towel to eat next to me. I let her be quiet until I just couldn’t
take it anymore.
“What’s her name?”
Mikasa chewed and looked at me. “Annie,” she answered.
When my face changed, she stopped chewing. “Not in thatway, Eren. I can have
friends sleep over, too!” She shook her head and reached over me for a spare
napkin. “Where were you last night? Who brought you home?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it.” I deposited my bowl in the sink and
told her I was going to do some laundry before school, which was my subtle way
of telling her to finally get her panties out of the dryer.
“I tried to call you last night,” Armin told me when we met up between classes.
“Mikasa said you went somewhere.”
“Yeah.”
“Where did you go?”
I’d have to tell someone, and though I knew I wanted that someone to be Armin,
my heart still beat faster as I considered saying it. “It’s a long story. I’ll
tell you later.”
“Well, how about we talk after we leave Jean’s? He has two papers to write that
he hasn’t even started and I need an excuse to leave him alone for a night.”
“We? Jean’s?” I ignored the implication of what they had been doing with their
time.
He blinked at me several times, unimpressed. “We were supposed to go to his
house tonight. We talked about it last week.”
“That’s tonight? On a Monday?”
“Yeah. For Monday Night Football. That was the whole point, Eren.” Great, the
day wasn’t even three hours old and already I was hearing massive
disappointment in Armin’s voice.
“No, I just got confused!” I rubbed my face and growled. “Yeah, that’s cool,
you can come over.” 
“Did you do the reading?” We ducked into our English class and let our
backpacks drop on the floor. We sat side-by-side, further back in class, and
luckily our teacher was cool enough to let us get away with doing so.
My face fell and I closed my eyes slowly when I remembered the fifty pages of
Dickens we were supposed to finish over the weekend. “No,” I answered, a man at
the gallows like usual.  
“I didn’t either,” Armin admitted with a terrified look. It was like he’d been
expecting to mooch off of myexpertise, and that was so far from making sense
that I wondered if I’d somehow set a chain reaction of bizarro-world events
into motion the night before. He leaned forward and got the attention of one of
our other classmates. “Reiner, did you do the reading?”
“Halfway.”
“Well,” I tried to look on the bright side. “If you didn’t do it and Reiner
didn’t do it, maybe we can get the quiz graded on a curve.”
“I hope so,” Armin grimaced, pulling his Cliff’s Notes out to do some
clandestine, desperate cramming. I sighed because I knew it would probably be
enough to ensure him a good grade, meaning I would still fail.
The day went along at the same pace, to varying degrees of shittiness. Even in
the moments I got to sit and really think about things, I just ended up
thinking about Levi, and his stupid face, and the stupid way he whispered in my
ear. Nothing was really clear, so I was almost grateful by the time the evening
rolled around and I was in the car heading to Jean’s house. Mikasa loved
football, but she informed me that she was sitting out the gathering. “It’s
boys only,” she said with a sniping tone. “Which is total bullshit, since half
of the boys are gay and I know there are a couple of lesbians going.”
“Well, maybe you should just decide whether you’re a lesbian.”
“Well, maybe you should blah blah blah shut up, Eren.”
The Steelers were at Baltimore. I didn’t have a particular investment in either
team, regardless of the fact that I didn’t want the Steelers anywhere near my
favorites considering how good they’d been in the preseason. I relaxed as well
as I could into the big leather couch in Jean’s TV room (and by that, I don’t
mean a family TV room. I mean it was Jean’s TV room. He even had his own
kitchenette), and eyed the drink selection with a sneer.
“Yeah, no beer tonight. Well, except for me; I live here.” He stepped over my
legs and fell to sit between me and Armin. I couldn’t help rolling my eyes when
I realized he’d be right next to me all evening, especially right after I’d
given his legs a thorough examination in those jeans. “Help yourself to
anything else, though.”
I cracked open a Dr. Pepper and sighed. It was a small gathering, and if I
didn’t have so much else to think about I would have been flattered to be
included (even if I knew it was mostly because Armin insisted). Introductions
went around the room during commercial breaks. I was just distracted enough,
just on the verge of getting comfortable enough, that I was caught completely
off guard when Jean poked me in the shoulder and asked, “So you met Annie?”
I already didn’t like where this was going. “Yes…” I turned my head to look at
him suspiciously.
“And?”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be saying right now.”
“She’s hot, isn’t she? She’s single.”
“Annie Leonhardt? From St. Maria’s?” One of the lesbians was sitting next to
me. Her name was Ymir and the ennui all over her face reminded me of Levi on a
particularly bad day. She interrupted our conversation as if the name was a
homing beacon for the Melissa Etheridge set. “She’s straight?”
“I dunnow,” Jean shrugged one shoulder. “She told Mikasa she thought Eren was
cute, so I guess so.”
“I just met her this morning!” I didn’t add I had Corn Flakes all over my face.
“I mean, she’s not my type, though.”
“What is your type, Eren?” Jean sighed, and I glanced away from the smug look
on his face. This was about the bet we’d made, whether he wanted to call me out
in front of everyone or not. I snorted through my nose.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” No, actually, you probably really would not. Or,
at least, I’d rather you didn’t. And then, before I knew it, my mouth did that
thing it does. That thing where it starts to move and I start to say things
before I think about them and the consequences. “And for your information, I’m
seeing someone.”
He leaned back slightly. I was glad. Despite my constant efforts in telling
myself the opposite, he actually smelled pretty good. I didn’t want that
thought clouding up my perceptions. “What’s that? This is new.”
Armin leaned forward, his face all out of sorts. I didn’t want him to look so
betrayed, but if I’d stopped to think about things like that for a moment I
wouldn’t have shot my big dumb mouth off. “Ehh?”
“It’s not someone from school.” It was too late now. I had to bury myself in
the lie wholesale, at least for as long as I could get away with it.
“So… Annie?” Jean smirked.
“There are people who don’t go to our school that aren’t Annie.”
“Uh-huh. Please tell me it’s Annie. I heard she even stayed at your house last
night.” He reached in to poke me in the side. I flailed and held my soda can
out of harm’s way while I shoved him off.
“It’s not Annie!”
Armin was right. The guy was persistently physical. But now was not the time to
think about Jean’s sexual M.O.
“Then what’s her name?”
I took a cursory inventory of the other guests. No one else was really paying
attention to me as the Ravens managed a 50-yard touchdown run. I tried to stop
myself from saying it. I panicked. I said it. “Tirne.”
Jean stopped in the middle of the sip he was taking from his beer, so suddenly
that he had to wipe a drop from his chin where there was a little trouble. He
narrowed his eyes at me. “Tirne?” He repeated.
Armin was just lifting an eyebrow, probably seeing through my ruse and knowing
I didn’t have a girlfriend at all. Armin, however, probably just thought I was
lying. Jean, on the other hand…
I nodded. Again, no take-backs. “Tirne des Ailes.”
Moments passed. He nodded slowly again, and then stood up. “Eren, my man, come
to the kitchen with me.”
I took in a deep breath to fill my chest, grumbling under that as I rose to
follow him. Armin was still looking at me with one eyebrow raised. When I gave
him a desperate grimace he just shrugged at me, silently saying “what the hell,
man?” before he pointed in the direction of the kitchen.
I caught up, and as soon as we were behind more private walls Jean turned,
wearing an expression that might have been hilarious if it weren’t also deathly
serious.
“Tirne des Ailes,” he repeated, leaning against the center island and crossing
one ankle over the other.
“That’s what I said.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
I just took in a deep breath and wondered how I could continue the half-truth
when I realized it was, in fact, only half a life.
He didn’t want to wait for me to explain myself. “You’re not dating her.”
I snorted a breath out through my nose and decided to be contentious. “You mean
him.”
“No, I mean her,if you’re referring to a drag queen by hername, asshole.” He
waved off his frustration quickly enough, and leaned closer to me. “Eren, are
you gay? You have to give me the satisfaction of knowing I was right.”
“What?” I reared back from him a little. I’d been prepared for the first
question, and had even girded myself for it a bit. But the addendum was a
shocker.
“I have the best gaydar in this entire town, okay? I knew about you the minute
I saw you, but…” He stopped and waved at the air again. “Come on, really, man?
Why did you pull Tirne des Ailes out of nowhere? She’s legend around here. You
could have tried harder than that to come up with some girl to throw me off
your scent.” 
I dragged my hands down my face. It was too monumental a conversation to be
having with Jean, of all people, while I still hadn’t had a chance to really
think it through for myself. “She’s on my mind, okay? I… last night… you know,
I haven’t even talked to Armin about this!” I turned to leave, but Jean grabbed
me by the arm. I wrenched it away on instinct. I stayed, but I wasn’t about to
let him manhandle me.
“Wait, wait wait. Last night…? Wait. Eren, did I just lose a bet?” His face
actually lit up a little at the thought. I had enough people already trying to
claim ownership of my sexuality; I didn’t want him joining in, though it seemed
like it was too late.
“No!” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and sighed mightily. “No! You didn’t! I
haven’t! But…”
Armin poked his head in before I could embarrass myself further. “Um, sorry to
interrupt. But Tomas is ordering pizza, do you want some?”
“Whoa!” Jean ran for the door and barked around the corner. “We’re all ordering
food together at halftime! I’m paying. You guys hold your horses! Damn.”
Shaking his head, he came back into the kitchen, and pulled Armin along.
Armin looked at me nervously, and I can only assume the nerves ratcheted up
when I looked away, ashamed that I hadn’t told him first.
“I was right,” Jean said to Armin, more prissily than I’d heard him say
anything yet. “He’s gay.”
“Eren!” Armin cried out, shouting at first before he remembered his indoor
voice. “What? What happened? What is this all about?”
“Armin,” I pleaded, “I want to talk to youabout this first, okay?” With that I
shot poison darts from my eyes in Jean’s direction.
He caught the look, rolled his eyes, and held his hands up in surrender.
“Fine.” It was a really bitchy sort of surrender, though, as he turned and
walked out dramatically. I narrowed my eyes after him and certainly didn’t
notice that his ass looked really good in those jeans. Crap, I actually did. I
had to stop with the asses thing. I also had to stop with the other-people’s-
boyfriends thing, apparently. Maybe it was just that Jean was only tolerable to
look at from behind. Or at least the neck down.
Whoa. Eren, stop.
I told Armin everything. I tried to make it as concise as possible, but Jean
still checked back in on a couple of occasions, making the excuse that he was
getting more drinks. By the time I finally led Armin up to my awkward morning
and my continuing confusion throughout the day, he was just looking at me,
mouth open in an adorable pout like he couldn’t decide whether he was horrified
or delighted. “Maybe you’re just—“
I cut him off firmly. “I don’t think there’s much to wonder about. I’m more
turned on by him than by anyone I’ve ever been around.”
“But… he was...”
While Armin tried to find a way to phrase the fact that my revelation had
occurred under the influence of a drag queen, I took the opportunity to speak
again. “Are you trying to convince me that I’m confused?”
He stammered. “N-no! I just… Eren, I’m just wanting to make sure.”
Part of me hated the way he sounded so full of himself, so preachy, so above
me, like just because he’d been learning his way around the dirty details of
homosexuality, he was suddenly the arbiter of my sincerity.
I didn’t have time to second guess myself. “I’msure, though.”
Armin took in a deep breath, nodded. “Okay. I…” He stopped himself from saying
whatever had started. “Thanks for telling me.”
“You’re my best friend,” I said gently. “I need you for this.”
We enjoyed the friendly silence for a few moments, feeling intimacy swell as
close as it dared to a tangible thing between us. We’d had few times like this,
where we knew we needed to tell each other how important it was to just be
there, to take on that role. The last time I remembered was when mom died. We
were still incredibly uncomfortable with it, of course. Emotions were still
really weird for us.
“Thanks,” he said, shrugging sheepishly.
“We’d better get back to the thing,” I mentioned, and pointed my thumb at the
TV room. Armin nodded.
As he passed me, he touched my arm and made sure he had my attention. “Now I’m
even more eager to talk to you when we leave here, though.”
I gave him a strange look. He practically fell into Jean’s lap when we reached
the sofa, holding him close for the rest of the game. I felt, just slightly,
that he was preening for me by doing so.  Jean sent me home with a half-hug,
half-slap, warning that I should “talk to him before I went and did anything
dumb,” which I took offense to before I thought about what a sincere sentiment
it was.
“Okay,” Armin didn’t even have his seatbelt on before he jumped right into
things. “So what did you do, how far did you go?”
“I didn’t…” I had to think about driving, so I waited until I was safely moving
forward down the road before glaring at him for effect. “I told you. Nothing.
Nothing yet.”
“Oh, you were serious. I thought that was because you didn’t want to say
anything while we were there.”
“No, I actually haven’t done anything yet.” I sighed and muttered under my
breath, purposefully loud enough for Armin to hear. “I just know I want to.”
Armin nodded, leaned forward, turned the volume up slightly, realized it was
just “Black Hole Sun”, turned it back down a little, and cleared his throat. I
knew he wanted to say something. His cues hadn’t changed much since he was a
little kid.
“What is it?”
“Do you know about the prostate?”
My eyebrows pushed in together as I thought. I’d heard of it, definitely.
“Like, the cancer?”
“Yeah, that’s the first thing I thought of, too.”
“Isn’t it, like, a tumor you get or something? That’s what it sounds like. Why
are you bringing this up?”
“It’s really not that. I just…” He took a very deep breath, like he was
remembering something that already made me a little uncomfortable to be in his
company. “Whoo boy. Okay, um.” We reached a red light and I looked over to see
Armin push one hand up through his bangs and grin. “So first of all, Jean’s a
bottom.”
Before I could make the requisite stunned face, I shouted, “Did you do it?!”
“No!” Armin waved his hands between us. “No, not yet! The light’s green!”
I accelerated somehow before the person behind me had a chance to lay on their
horn.
“Whoa, so…” I had to think about it a moment. “So, seriously, Jean does that?
He takes it?”
“Yup. Hand to God.”
“Up the butt?”
“That’s the way it works, Eren.” He giggled despite the fact that he was
chiding me.
“I thought that was, like… I thought he acted more manly than that.”
Armin laughed, albeit nervously. “Yeah, me too. That’s why I was kinda scared,
because I thought I’d just be ‘the girl’ by default or whatever. But no. Um,
no.”
“How did you find out? Like, did you ask, or…?”
“Well…” He started to talk faster as I drove down the street that led directly
into our neighborhood. “We were making out, and um —okay, Eren, I’m gonna get
sort of graphic here, do you mind? If you mind, just tell me.”
Part of me didn’t want to hear anything graphic about Jean, at the same time
that a totally different part of me did. I’d made a very important decision
about myself, and as a result even the uncomfortable details would prove
valuable. Especially in the company of someone with as much as experience as
Levi. I gritted my teeth. “No, please tell me.”
Armin let out a grateful breath. “We were making out in his room and I was just
feeling him up, you know, like we do before things get going. And he asked me
to go lower. I’m like ‘okay…’ and, you know, I didn’t know what he was talking
about, so I was sort of like ‘do you mean your balls? What the hell are you
talking about?’ So he said ‘no, I mean my ass.’ And I was all ‘whoooaaaa, hold
on, where is this going?’ You know.”
“Yeah.” It was strange the way I hung on every word, knowing this was
exactlywhat I wanted to know, even considering the awkward inclusion of my best
friend’s sexual exploits.
“So he took his pants off and…” Armin paused for a long time, and I could sense
his frustration. “I don’t know how graphic I want to be, actually. But, you
know, he gives me this thing of Vaseline and he just starts explaining that he
wants me to, you know, get up in there.”
“With your fingers?”
“Yeah, with my fingers.”
“Whoa. Wait, does that… that can’t feel very good.”
“No, I’m getting there!” Armin turned in his seat and was facing me as I went
on. “Okay, apparently before you do it for real you need to get ready, like
it’s important not to just go right in because, you know, dicks are big.”
“If you’re lucky,” I interjected. Armin laughed, still nervous. I had to add,
just for my own ego, “Yeah, though, Levi kind of mentioned you need to do that.
He didn’t give me any details, but…”
“You two talked about it?” Armin lifted an eyebrow.
“Yes! Go on!” I pulled into the driveway at his house and parked. We weren’t
going anywhere, though. Not while this conversation was happening.
“So I’m, you know,” I tried not to snicker at the fact that Armin was talking
with his hands, fingers in a very compromising gesture, “doing it… and it’s
weird because he’s into it, you know?” He was smiling wider, looking almost
proud of himself. “Like, the more I did it, the more I moved around, he was
just squirming on me, moaning; it was really, really hot.”
“Armin,” I warned him.
“Whatever. Wait until you’re there.” He rolled his eyes. “He tells me to go
deeper, and starts telling me to sort of…” He started moving his finger in a
beckoning motion, laughing as he did. “Sort of start doing that. So, of course,
I did. Um…”
“What?”
Armin let his hand hit his lap, and gave me a startlingly intense look. I could
tell that he was getting caught up in the memories. “Okay, so I looked it up.
The prostate is a gland that’s up in there, and if you massage it you just…
it’s like… you just go crazy. I didn’t even know, I was just doing what he told
me, and finally he just told me to stay right where I was, doing what I was
doing. It’s weird because you can almost feelit, but not really? It’s small.
And it’s kinda far up there.”    
“Whoa, so that’s in your ass?” I gaped, suddenly happier with the decisions I’d
just made. I remembered what Levi said to me. Oh, yeah. He mentioned this, in
his own weird way.
Armin nodded rapidly, and his eyes glazed over like he was completely lost in a
flashback. “Wow, if Jean was any indication, I just… he was practically
vibrating, and I didn’t even know what was going on, I just went with it. He
like, barely touched himself.” He lowered his voice like we weren’t alone, like
he was sharing a state secret. “He came so hard, but not the way you usually
come hard, you know? Like, he didn’t shoot, he just--“
I made a quick, distasteful noise that was only a matter of course. I actually
wanted to hear about it, for my own educational purposes. Armin was good at
this; teaching me things I never wanted to find out on my own because I was
caught up in the idea of always experiencingthings instead of knowing about
them (which led to a very limited life, sexual or not).
“Oh, fine, like it’s not interesting, at the very least. I’ll bet you’ve never
come like that.”
“Hey, hey, hey, why are we discussing how I come?” I barked.
“We’re not! It’s just, if you’re going to get around to anything with Levi I
want you to know about it!”
I sighed and swallowed back the temptation to make a more incriminating sound
at the thought of Levi. The thought of Levi specifically combined with the
thought of that. Finally, after a few more seconds and as Armin gathered his
things, I snickered. “Thanks for being a friend.”
He laughed, too. “Thanks for being gay, I guess?”
I shook my head and he didn’t leave until we’d recovered from an impromptu
nervous-energy giggle fit that ate up a good five more minutes.
Of course I tried it once I was home. Of course I found some Vaseline in the
medicine cabinet and of course I wasted absolutely no time.
Of course, though, I had no idea what I was doing. Of course, I didn’t know the
mechanics. All I realized once I came into my hand with a slicked-up ass was
that I didn’t want to give up trying. That realization came on the heels of
knowing that I didlike the feeling. There was something gratifyingly bizarre
about touching myself there, even without finding the magic button Armin told
me about.
I’m a bottom, I thought. I’d been almost sure of the opposite, consider how
much I was enjoying just lookingat asses lately. Maybe that had been a
subconscious thing. Self-discovery felt great, especially on the heels of an
orgasm.
As the rush wore off and I drifted into those weirdly anxious moments that
sometimes followed, though, I remembered: so was Levi.
Because life is nothing if not suffering when you’re 16, I threw my wrist over
my face and scowled into the darkness of my bedroom. “Balls.”  
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     Mood whiplash tbh.
Levi had two days off from the donut shop every week. When he wasn’t there for
a third day in a row, I started to worry. What wasn’t worry was a feeling of
being cheated for the nights before, when I’d made a particular effort to look
presentable before showing up for some food.
On Thursday night, at last, he was there. I swallowed hard when I walked up to
the window, hoping against hope that it wasn’t obvious I’d been masturbating to
his memory for the better part of week.
“Hey, stranger,” he greeted me.
“Hey,” I said, almost losing my voice when I finally opened my mouth. I
remembered the way Levi had acted in the club once he learned Erwin was there;
that’s not what I wanted to seem like. I put a great effort after that into
trying to be my usual self. “What have you been up to?”
He looked at his hands, casually examining a fingernail, and shrugged. “I’ve
been moving into a new place. Other than that, not much. You getting anything
tonight?”
Lucky, I hope. I actually expected nothing of the sort, but it was too good a
joke to not consider. I beat back a snicker as I answered him.
“Yeah.” I ordered, and Levi filled my order, but as I watched him perform his
job and heard him keep up a decently snappy conversation with me, I got the
overwhelming sensation that something was off. He always looked bored, of
course, like the world didn’t really deserve his full attention, but this time
something else was going on. He didn’t seem like himself. I reminded myself
that I was trying to seem casual, and beat back the urge to feel concerned.
He took his break while I was still there, as usual, but he didn’t make a move
for my table. After almost ten minutes, he was still just leaning on the wall,
smoking. My discomfort reached uncharted heights, and I wadded up my trash in
my bag.
“Hey,” he said as I made to leave.
“Yeah?” I was only vaguely surprised that he called for me, but I was glad he
had.
“Can you come here when we close?”
“I guess, maybe. Why?
“I want to talk to you.”
He wasn’t looking at me. I told him that, okay, I would be back.
My heart jackhammered in my chest all the way home, and I knew even as I sat on
my bed that I wasn’t about to get anything else done before nine o’clock. The
possibilities were obvious, and each was as stressful as the next. Maybe he
knows I’m talking about him. Maybe he’s not happy. Maybe he’s telling me to get
lost, because he’s in a relationship. Maybe he’s not; maybe he’s just telling
me to get lost because I’m a big idiot. He thinks I’m a child, of course he
doesn’t—
Mikasa knocked on my door. I was almost grateful for the distraction. “Yeah,
what is it?”
She stepped into my room almost shyly, which immediately told me that something
was up. Usually she barged in the way a big sister is supposed to. “Hey.”
“Hey…” I looked around, hoping I’d missed something. “What’s up?”
“Hey, I just…” She braced herself with a sigh, and tugged at the bandana she
usually wore around her neck. It looked good with the sort of stuff she usually
wore, and had ever since I’d given it to her when she was 8. I’d been worried
recently that she might stop wearing it. Now that she was starting to dress
like an adult more often. “Can we talk?”
Two big talks in one night. Why not, I figured. Bring it on, nothing left to
lose. I slapped the bed next to me, and Mikasa walked over to take a seat. She
looked up at the ceiling. “Did you take down your black light poster?”
“Yeah, it was sort of lame, wasn’t it? Besides, my black light died.” I used to
have it tacked up on the ceiling right above my bed. It was just a big cortex
of swirling neon colors.
“I liked that poster. Do you still have it? I want it.”
“No, I threw it out. They still sell the same one at Spencer’s, if you want it
that bad.” I stared at my lap.
“Cool. Maybe we’ll go to the mall this weekend.”
Mikasa went quiet but, being how we were, it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. I
forgot all about Levi for a bit and just sat there in the mutual silence until
Mikasa’s hand came down on my shoulder. “About the other morning…”
I tensed. I wasn’t sure which morning she meant, and if it was the morning I
thought I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about it. “Eh?”
“How Annie spent the night and you started calling her my girlfriend because
you’re a little punk? That morning. About that morning.”
“Yeah, what about it?” I grumbled.
“This sounds stupid, but it sort of made me think. I feel really weird when you
don’t know who I’m thinking of dating, or who I like. We used to be so close in
middle school like that, when I had my first boyfriend and you got all
protective. What happened?”
It took me exactly one second to cut to the quick of the situation. “Sex.”
Mikasa nodded slowly. “Yeah, I suppose that does make it strange. Stranger than
usual. But just so you know, you’re still my idiot little brother. And I’m
going to try and deserve all you’ve done for me. So starting now, how about we
be more open? Maybe? Especially now.”
I narrowed my eyes at her and the tender moment turned suspicious. “Did Armin
say anything?”
She just nodded, but somehow we didn’t explode into an argument at that cue. I
just sighed and shook my head. “He never could keep a secret.”
“Do you really like Levi?” She asked.
I could bullshit everyone else on the planet, sometimes even with a straight
face. But not Mikasa. “Yup,” I said plainly.
She didn’t reprimand me. She didn’t freak out because he was so much older or
launch into all the reasons it wouldn’t work. Because of course it wouldn’t
work. It wouldn’t stop me from riding the disappointment train to its
inevitable end, but at least Mikasa didn’t make me feel stupid. There was
silence, and she started to rub my back with her hand like I needed some help
digesting a meal. I found a comfortable rhythm to my breathing, and by the time
we felt like talking again I realized it was already half past 8:00. “Who do
you like?” I asked.
“No one yet,” she said simply, quietly. “But I kinda like me for the first
time. And I like that more than I thought I would.”
I laughed quietly and shook my head before reaching up to hold her hand softly
in mine. “You’re a cool sister,” I pointed out, feeling a bit juvenile for
putting it that way, but glad that I still had chances to be that way around
Mikasa.
She leaned in and enveloped me in a hug, embracing me so tightly after a few
moments that I whined while she growled in her own mama bear sort of way. “I’m
proud of you.”
She pulled back and adjusted the bandana again, showing me a rare glimmer of a
smile when she did. Before she left the room, though, she paused at my door. It
was like she wanted to say something, and then changed her mind, and then
hesitated again.
“What?” I asked.
She pointed fleetingly at my nightstand, turning the motion into a way to play
with her hair while she averted her glance. “Vaseline’ll make a condom break,”
she said, and cleared her throat. “You might not want to go that route. And
you’d better use a condom, or I’ll curbstomp you both.”
Mortification, as usual, was the perfect way to get me out of the house. Right
on schedule.
It was getting just a touch chillier during the evenings, so I pulled on a
sweatshirt and hit the pavement, trying to forget about all of the awful
possibilities I’d let cloud my mind earlier. I crunched into the parking lot
and waved as nonchalantly as possible when I caught Levi’s eye. Though it took
him a few minutes longer to close, he was already taking out the keys to his
car when he walked up to me.
“Is everything all—“ I started to ask.
Levi shut me up with one look and pointed curtly. “The car.”
“Is something wrong? I’m not getting in there if something’s wrong,” I took a
step away. Like him? Sure I did. Want him? About as much as my libido could
handle, especially since he was a wearing a slightly tighter t-shirt than usual
that night. Trust him? Not entirely. Not especially. Not even a little bit,
really. Not yet.
He tightened his jaw and breathed in through his nose, closing his eyes in a
moment of meditation before he could answer me. “I just want to drive. I just
want to drive and talk. Is that okay, or did you have other plans, your
majesty?” When his eyes opened again he looked a bit vicious. I didn’t want to
admit it was a good look on him.
“No, I want to… I can do that…”
I was still a nervous wreck by the time we were out of the parking lot and he
was rolling down the window to let the air blow through the car.
“So… new place, huh?”
“Yeah,” Levi answered, more relaxed already once we were on the road. “I had to
save up enough for the deposit and stuff, but I’m in there. It’s weird. I was
living with friends before, just crashing here and there. So I don’t have much
stuff, and to be honest I don’t want much stuff.”
“That makes sense. I don’t have much stuff, either.” If it weren’t for clutter
and my dad’s furniture, in fact, Mikasa and I could probably move everything we
owned into an efficiency. “Stuff is overrated.”
Levi gave a breathy, mirthless laugh. He could tell I was trying too hard.
“Yeah, that’s a way to think about it. Anyway, I’m not really happy there so I
don’t want to go home just yet. It’s so quiet. I liked being around people
better.”
“So why did you move in?”
“Wasn’t my choice,” he answered sternly, as if I’d finally stumbled upon a
connection to his current mood.
I just nodded, and when I realized he probably hadn’t seen me I added a quick,
“Ah.”
“Don’t ask whose choice it was.”
“I wasn’t going to—“
He sighed heavily to interrupt me, though, and started to tap out a nervous
rhythm on his steering wheel. After a few moments it started to match the tempo
of the Candlebox song on the radio, and I wondered where we were going. Not out
loud, of course. I didn’t dare speak. My hands were sweating so I wiped them
off on my jeans. I was a mess, but at least I was with him.
“So, let me ask you a question, kid.”
The “kid” moniker hurt more than usual. I sighed. “Okay.”
“Have you ever misjudged someone completely? Like, I mean, have you ever gotten
a little too creative in your liberties with what you don’t know, filled in the
blanks, and then hurt because of it? Like, anybody. I’m talking about anyone.”
“Well…” Not really. I hadn’t lived the life Levi had. I hadn’t really gotten
close to many people. Not since mom died, and certainly not lately. I’m
wondering if I’m doing that right at this instant, actually.“Not really.”
“Not really…” Levi repeated, and I saw him nod. When I caught the nod, I
couldn’t help keeping my eyes on him. Honestly, I hadn’t taken much time to
look at him. Every time I did, he wound up looking me in the eye and
intimidating me out of the examination. And it made sense; who liked to be
appraised like that, unless they specifically made themselves a thing to be
looked at? I’d been too confused during the show on Sunday to take in much
besides his legs and his curves, both real and fake, but in the lowlight of the
car I noticed a few things for the first time.
He wore two silver studs in his right ear, and the trim on his shorter hair was
extremely clean. I could only assume he kept up with it himself, the cut looked
so fresh. There wasn’t a hint of a five o’clock shadow on his face. His neck
was longer than I’d noticed, his jawline just soft enough to make him a
convincing woman.
I didn’t want to make the leap because it was the last thing I wanted to
discuss, and also because Levi had only promised to tell me when he was ready.
However, the empathy I’d learned in my short life was limited to a few
combinations of emotion and reaction. Besides, he said he wanted to talk to me.
I had to ask. “What happened?”
When he gave me a sharp harrumph I expected little more. Then, the car started
to slow down. I didn’t even recognize where we were, but we were halfway to the
other side of town. Levi turned off of the road and the car bounced violently
on the unpaved field beyond. “Where are we?”
“Out by the industrial park. It’s just a vacant lot. I come here a lot because
it’s off the radar, and there’s not a lot of light pollution to you can really
see the stars.” Before he let me think things were getting maudlin, he added,
“It’s great when you’re depressed and just want to think.”
He parked and exited the car. I only assumed I was supposed to follow, so I
stood rather unsure of myself next to the car. The moon was out, and it was
almost startlingly bright. I watched as Levi slid onto the car and wiggled up
to plant himself in the crook between windshield and hood, leaning his back
against the glass. “Come on,” he waved at me.
Far less gracefully, I joined him. The hood was still very hot, but it didn’t
feel so bad in the crisp night air, once I settled in and knew I wouldn’t be
going anywhere for a while. “Okay, so,” he started with a sigh that could only
be described as a preamble. “I don’t know whether to start at the very
beginning or just tell you why I feel like shit right now.”
“How about why you feel like shit right now?”
He pulled out a slim black case from his pocket and pulled a hand-rolled clove
cigarette out. As he held it between his lips and bent down to light it in
cupped hands, he mumbled, “Because I’m someone’s project.”
I didn’t answer. I had no idea what he was talking about. I’d never been good
at context clues, at following inferences. Levi sucked on his cigarette and
brought his head up, tossing his bangs imperiously. He still lifted his fingers
to make sure the hair was in place, parted expertly down the middle. “That
doesn’t make sense to you, I know. But that’s the short of it. It’s like all at
once I learned that I’m not worth what I am currently, and I’m only really
worth what someone wants to turn me into. And that hurts. Like, even if I
needed it, it hurts. And I’m saying I needed it, but that’s past tense. I’m
over certain things because I had a reason to be over certain things. It’s
just… it’s hard… to know your worth is impertinent. And that the reason wasn’t
even there to begin with.”         
As Levi spoke, he fidgeted, but not in a nervous way. He pulled his legs in to
cross them loosely, and leaned forward into the pose. Everything he did, every
way he moved, it complemented his intention. He was smart. Of course I’d
gathered this before, but it was usually buried in street knowledge or some
sarcastic remark. The way he used words was very relaxing, though. He wasn’t
talking above me, but he was choosing what he said carefully.
“Erwin,” I said quietly. I had to latch onto my moments of clarity when I had
them.
He looked up at me sharply. No other muscle on his face moved, he just fixed
his big, hooded eyes at me and glared. I could almost feel what he wanted me to
know, just seeing his jaw set in that expression. It was the way I looked at
Mikasa when she caught me doing something humiliating, beyond even the usual
level. That warning edge was on the firm stretch of his lips, like he was about
to tell me not to look at him.
A disarming expression rippled over Levi’s face, then, and everything about him
went stunningly unguarded for just a second before he dragged off his cigarette
again and started to talk. “The night I got picked up for kicking in the face
of the shitfuck who tried to rape me, the only number I had on me was Erwin’s.
We’d just hooked up the week before, and I was carrying around his number like
a pathetic little souvenir. I was too ashamed of what had happened to tell
anyone else, I guess. Like, I’m the one who gets violated but then I’m the one
who has to explain to the cops that I was defending myself. Erwin was still
just this guy I’d met at the bar, a random pick-up, this vision who shouldn’t
have even given me a second look. I hardly expected him to answer my call, much
less show up and post my bail looking like this perfect white knight…”
Levi chuckled humorlessly and shook his head out of the memory. “We lived in a
hotel room for about a week and a half this summer. I came down off the coke
and the amyls, I told him my life story. He said he was going to help me.” He
paused for several moments, a wan half-smile just barely visible on the
shadowed side of his face. “Don’t trust a man who says he’s going to help you.
That’s code that you’re not actually important. Of course, I didn’t believe him
at first. I gave up on thinking people would help me shortly after my parents
kicked me out and changed the locks on the house I grew up in. Hanji was the
only person who ever helped me, but she knew she wouldn’t control me.
“Then, sometime this summer, between the sex and the marathon conversation, I
started to trust him. I sort of… surrendered to him.” I actually heard him
swallow hard, like the thought was a bitter one that went down uncomfortably
for a few different reasons. “We just fucked and talked and watched the world
go by like it didn’t matter, and while I was talking about how I was going to
change, while he was assuring me I could, I was thinking ‘yes, this is okay.
This is okay because I’ve got someone to change for.’ And trying to earn
someone is a pretty potent drug. It keeps you going, it really does. And why
wouldn’t I want to earn him? I mean have you seenhim?”
I had nothing to offer, but Levi didn’t want me to. I didn’t want to be a
little shit and say that my Vice Principal wasn’t my type, especially not when
Levi seemed to be handling his own emotional turmoil over the attraction that
still, overwhelmingly, probably painfully, remained. “And why wouldn’t I have
trusted him? I mean, he’s upstanding, he’s successful. He’s down for anything,
though – I mean, he seems really straight-laced and conservative but he is a
freak. I mean that in a good way. I did shit with him I never even thought of,
and I loved every moment of it. I feltsomething for the first time in so long.
Like, it sits in my stomach and gets me so angry, because I can still feel—“
Levi stopped, clutched his face, and growled. He was sick of showing emotions,
of coming close enough to make it obvious he had them. “I didn’t hear from him
for a couple of weeks after that. Right before school started up again, he came
to the bar out of nowhere and told me to go down to the donut shop, that I had
a job interview on the condition that I treat it as a first step. I didn’t
think much of it. It was nice, the idea of joining productive society, not
scrounging tips for a living. Especially since I’d made the decision not to go
back on the hard stuff, I was suddenly seeing money, and it was exciting. I
mean, I had something to work for, you know? Every time he showed up I hoped
he’d take me home. It never happened that way. I felt like a stray dog. But I
had hope, if I could just get good enough.”
I felt the story building up to its conclusion, and I already knew it wouldn’t
be a good one. “There was always… still is… something about him that seems so
cold. Not like he doesn’t care, but like he’s actively trying not to care.
That’s a whole different thing, you know? Putting actions and gestures before
everything else. He cosigned the lease on this apartment on the condition that
I hold the job for a month and pay all the move-in fees myself. I called him to
thank him when I moved in, thinking maybe finally I had a reason to tell him
this was getting more emotional for me, the longer I had to think about it.”
I braced myself. Intuition was something I’d inherited. My eyes slid closed
before Levi even said the words. “His wife answered. ‘This is Mrs. Smith,’ she
said when I asked if he was there, and I just froze up and pretended to be a
telemarketer.”     
I nodded and looked away, giving Levi at least that privacy for a moment or two
as he chuckled darkly. I couldn’t understand what he was going through, because
I’d never been there, but the depth and terrible sound of that chuckle made the
emotion come alive. He sighed and simply opened his mouth to let a hazy plume
of smoke out of his mouth. “Savior complexes are shitty things. White knights
don’t exist, Eren. Not for people like us.”
I didn’t worry about what he meant by that. My heart was hurting for him,
beating in my throat as I watched his face go cold again, watched him firm up
his jaw as he tried to put the mask back on as tightly as it would go. Not
knowing what else to do, and not wanting to do anything that didn’t feel 100%
sincere, I let my fingers inch over until they covered his.
Levi looked down at our hands. “You don’t need to get all romantic, kid.”
I’d learned not to argue with him, not that I still wouldn’t in less important
situations. I just leaned further in and tilted my head down, kissed him before
he could deflect me.
His lips clamped onto mine before I knew what was going on. Without a word he
fumbled to smash his cigarette out, and refused to let go of my mouth as he
wound his arms around me, tugged at my sweatshirt, arched into my movements. He
was a deep kisser. An aggressive kisser. I’d never felt anything like it, and
I’d never expected it. Then again, I’d never been kissed before. I mirrored his
energy as well as I could, sliding my tongue in against his and pushing my
mouth harder, going with whatever seemed right, still unsure it was even
happening. I heard him breathing hard and rough against me as his fingers
tightened, like he was channeling everything through those moments. He was
angry, but not at me.
My first kiss. When it finally ended, it was only because Levi let go of me. He
lay back against the windshield and looked away from me. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“You know how last week, I asked you if you wanted to make out?”
“Yeah.” It happened to be a conversation I replayed in my brain almost
constantly.
“I don’t like making out, really. Not usually. Kissing depresses me.”
“Okay.” I thought momentarily, to distract myself, probably, about the worlds
Armin and I were inhabiting, the relationships we were navigating, and how
different they were.
“That was okay, though. You don’t kiss like a pussy.”
I whispered. “That was my first kiss.”
He scratched the back of his head and nodded. “Yeah, I figured.”
I could only assume that what he’d said was an indication that we weren’t to
continue on that track. My mind, however, was still spiraling out of control on
the fact that I’d just gone for it. I wasn’t even really considering how
emotionally volatile he was. I was just living in the moment, wanting to either
see how far I could get or run home to decompartmentalize the evening
immediately.
I wasn’t going home, I knew that much. “Do you wanna just… stay out here for a
while?” I asked.
“That’s good. That’s great, actually.”
It was the closest Levi came to a vehement agreement. We stretched back on the
long hood of his car and I tried not to act overly stunned when he reached for
my hand again, lacing our fingers together. I stared up at the sky and listened
to him breathing, listened to the wind whistling through the field, rustling
the weeds and wildflowers around.
“Hey.” He got my attention again after several minutes, in the same way he
always did.
“What?”
“Want me to pop your cherry? Get it over with? I could go for a fuck, honestly,
and you’re okay to look at.”
My throat nearly closed up and I felt a sharp, sudden stab of overwhelming
emotion, like I wanted to laugh and cry and jump him all at once.
“That only applies to girls,” I pointed out, masking my nerves with
stubbornness. I dared to turn my head to look at him, just as he did the same.
“I was trying to be poetic. Want me to take your virginity off your hands?” A
pause. “But, for the record, I think poking your ass for the first time
certainly warrants the same visceral description.”
I braced myself with a deep breath and couldn’t believe what I was about to
say. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him, but something didn’t feel right. The
evening wound up being too comfortable, but as soon as he mentioned that, I
seized up in inexplicable fear. “I don’t think tonight is a good night.”
I don’t just want to get it over with.
He shrugged. “I’m on the rebound. Maybe you’re smarter than you look.”
I had no idea what that meant.
“Besides,” oh my god Eren stop talking when things are going well, “I thought
you were a bottom.”
He took it in stride. “Only when it’s worth it.”
I managed not to be vaguely offended by the implication. “Huh?”
“I like it to hurt.”
“What? Why?”
I looked over at him again but Levi was staring at the sky, long neck and soft
jaw in stunning profile. “Because I’m fucked up.” He paused. “Sorry I’m fucked
up.”
“It’s okay,” I said quietly, and squeezed his hand. He didn’t pull it away. 
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     Okay, this one is heavy. From a lot of the comments I've received, I
     gather that you guys (for the most part) enjoy the coming-of-age
     aspects of the story. Well, thank you, first of all. Some of it's
     difficult to write, emotionally, but it always makes me feel better
     to give it some depth. So, allow me to take it a step beyond what I
     usually would.
     Definitely this is beyond what I originally planned (ohhhhhh HOW MANY
     TIMES HAVE I SAID THAT, IN THE PAST), at the very least. I think we
     can mark this as the turning point where I took the story into long-
     form territory.
     *whispers "it was just supposed to be a smutty high school sex comedy
     a/u" aggressively*
     Oh, and I'm still working on the vignettes/minisodes. One starring
     Jean and Armin is well underway, and there's another one featuring
     Levi, connected to the events of Chapter 7 (by request!) The Jean/
     Armin vignette will also provide some more Ymir screentime
     soooooooooo. I've got an idea for a Mikasa one-off, after this
     chapter. So yeah there's that. <3
     oh yeah I feel obligated to say that if you enjoy this maybe also
     check out my books on Amazon? The Acclamation series. It's pretty
     good. It puts food on my table.
This is the part where I explain how Mikasa and I got suspended from Trost
High.
We were walking to the parking lot after school. It had been a strange day from
the beginning, not for any particular reason. Things were happening just
outside the lines, if that makes sense. Like we’d started the day a half-step
behind everyone else and couldn’t match rhythm no matter how hard we tried.
Classes had been more tedious than usual, and I retained exactly 0% of anything
said to me, by teachers or otherwise.
“I’m ready to go home,” Armin said, readjusting his backpack on one shoulder.
“Are you going out tonight?” I asked. I’d finally managed not to make it sound
contentious when I asked.
Armin sighed. “Nah, just going to…”
His focus shifted and he stopped walking for a moment. I tried to search out
what he’d seen, but I was too distracted by my own plans for the evening. They
weren’t anything special, really, but every opportunity to see Levi was
suddenly becoming a swirling nausea of possibilities. I still hadn’t told
anyone else about what happened that night out in the vacant lot by the
industrial park. It didn’t seem right. Something about it felt private,
protected. I just needed to enact a more ordinary scenario, and maybe then…
“Going to what?”
Armin drove his grandfather’s Oldsmobile whenever he could afford the gas. It
wasn’t often, but lately I had the feeling he was getting some help from
outside forces. The appeal of riding home with Jean everyday had taken a month
to catch up to his grades, and Armin, being Armin, was starting to discipline
himself again, especially with Jean more involved in his clubs as the school
year got going. “Hang on.”
He sounded suspicious, a little frightened, but more than anything determined.
His step got quicker and he moved ahead of us, pulling his backpack onto both
shoulders and finally breaking into a short run.
I saw what he was running for and, instinctively, my resolve to follow him fell
off. I heard Mikasa gasp audibly while I wondered what to do, seeing Armin
standing there in front of his car with hands outstretched, dumbstruck and
panicked.
“Please let that be shoe polish,” was all I could manage to say, just loud
enough that Mikasa heard me. I looked away just as soon as I got the full
picture of what was written on his car, had those words and that image seared
into my brain. I wanted to spit it all back out immediately. A weird feeling
swept over me, like nothing I’d ever known before, not even when I was pushed
around for being poor. 
I could see how hard Armin was breathing when he turned to me. I could tell
that he wanted to disappear, that he wanted to be anywhere else and was
wondering if he could stop time, rewind, and keep from ever being there. Even
he wasn’t that smart, though. Something inside of me shut down immediately. I
had to be that way, because I’d known for years that I couldn’t doanything for
him when he got like that.  
“Oh my God,” I saw him choke on the words, not exactly loud enough to be heard.
My blood was boiling but I had to stay calm for him, until I saw a tangible way
to direct all of that. “Should I go get—“       
“No!” He held out his arms and exclaimed, pleading with me. A couple of other
kids passed by, snickering. I looked over at them and tightened my fists in the
most threatening way I could muster. They looked away immediately and sped up.
“Don’t get anyone; this isn’t important enough for that. Let’s just go get some
soap and water and let’s clean the car off. I can’t drive it like this.”
“This is sure as hell important enough! Armin, I—“
“No, just let it be. Eren,” he gritted his teeth and growled my name, before he
dared to turn around and look at the car again. “Eren, just listen to me.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is this because of Jean?”
He looked back at me with a glare that made me take a step back. His voice was
dangerous, corrosive. I’d crossed a line, at the worst moment. “You’ve been gay
for a week, Eren. He’s known for three years. You think he hasn’t told me how
to deal with this sort of thing?”
That stung. Not comfortable to look at Armin any longer, and still stalling on
what exactly to do, I deferred to Mikasa.
Her jaw was set in a way I rarely saw, and her eyes were glistening with rage.
She was on her tiptoes, scanning the area. “Mikasa…” Armin reached a hand out
for her, too.
She wasn’t listening to him. She was chomping at the bit, breathing fire,
stepping toward the car quickly and pounding on the roof. Armin flinched and
curled into his own posture, while I just braced myself. “Hey!” She yelled at
the top of her lungs. “Who the fuck did this? Who the fuckis responsible for
this, because I will kick your ass right now! I am not fucking around!”
“Mikasa…!” Armin tried again. But she wasn’t listening.
I couldn’t believe that I was frozen in place. I wanted to say the same things
Mikasa was saying, but my lips weren’t moving. My fists were still balled but I
felt like shrinking. I realized all at once that, for the first time since I’d
learned how to initiate physical confrontations, I felt threatened.Not because
of my abilities, but simply because of who I was. Of whatI was. 
I heard the laughter from across the street, in the adjacent stadium parking
lot, just as Mikasa started to move. We didn’t have time to stop her. She was
barreling toward the group of three big guys, pushing the sleeves of her
flannel shirt up past her elbows.
“Mikasa!” Armin called again. I held a palm up to him.
“Armin, don’t.”
“What are you gonna do, princess?” I heard one of the guys say. Another added
“fag hag” and I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt so scared I could die, but so
angry that I was willing to go out fighting.   
Two hours later, we were lined up in chairs, the three of us and one of the
boys. The other two were in the emergency room. I almost wish that were an
exaggeration, not that they didn’t deserve it. But I knew already who was going
to face the consequences.
Adding insult to injury was the matter of who was playing judge to what had
happened. “Well, it’s disappointing all around, I’m not going to deny that.
Armin, you did the right thing by not getting involved. I’m sorry you’ve had to
stay so long.”
“I want to stay, sir.” I glanced at Armin and saw the humiliation all over his
face before he asked, “Has the car been cleaned, at least?”
“They’re still working on it.” The custodial staff was charged with the task of
cleaning Armin’s grandfather’s Oldsmobile, which was quite the arduous task
once it was revealed that the paint was, in fact, not simply shoe-polish.
Vice Principal Erwin Smith’s attention turned to the boy I’d managed to punch
once in the face while Mikasa was focused on the others. I’d then been pinned
stomach down to have my arm nearly twisted out of socket, but it had been worth
it. “Your parents will be informed, of course. And your friends’ parents.
Depending on how this plays out, financial responsibility may be theirs.”
The boy spoke up immediately. “What about herfinancial responsibility? She put
them in the hospital!”
I kept my eyes on Erwin dutifully, save for the rare glances I shot Armin. I
was searching for the humility on his face. I was searching for the shame, but
also perhaps I was looking for those little tells when he looked at us, or when
he looked at that jerk’s slowly bruising eye. He was explaining something about
school property meaning school insurance would cover that, and I kept staring.
I was amazed by how stalwart he was, giving nothing away. Actively trying not
to care, just like Levi had said.
He kept his eyes on the photographs of the car, though, largely, and I knew
then why he kept his expression mostly hidden by the fist at his mouth. “I’m
not going to tolerate this sort of behavior on either side, is that
understood?”
We treated it as a rhetorical question, but then his eyes, normally kind but
suddenly daggers, looked up and fixed on me. “Yes, sir,” I gulped and
answered. 
I wondered if he recognized me. I wondered a lot of things.
Mikasa was given three day’s suspension, as was the boy in the office with us.
The other two would be given the same treatment on top of the time they were
out for medical reasons. Mikasa smirked at that.
I was given just a day’s suspension when Mikasa explained that I’d only joined
in to protect Armin, that I had tried to stop her. I attempted to look
convincing as I corroborated her story. Apparently it worked.
They weren’t able to get all the paint off. Armin’s grandfather was called,
they offered to put the car in the shop at the expense of the school (to be
reimbursed, I figured), and Armin called Jean to pick him up. The mood was
earnest and the tension was palpable as Jean asked me to join them so we could
all talk.
“I don’t want to,” I mumbled at my feet. Mikasa breezed past us and said she
was driving home, to catch up if I was coming. The fact that I hesitated a few
more seconds told her everything.
The sun was already setting. I felt a tear sliding down my cheek and I had no
idea why. I’d wanted to spend the evening living my other life, hanging out at
the donut shop and talking to the guy I’d kissed, the guy who gave me enough
inspiration to face realities like this. Instead I had to talkabout it, and it
made me angry enough to cry. I turned my head away from the parking lot lights
and heard Jean take in a deep breath. “Eren, seriously, let’s talk. It’s time
to strategize.”
Part of me – a big part of me – wanted to storm back to the school, throw open
the door to the Vice Principal’s office, and say something profound and
pointed. Demand that he stand up for us, and explain why he was standing up for
us. But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t even get up enough self-regard to be
sure he recognized me, much less that he would ever believe who I knew and what
I knew about him.
At the very least, though, I knew that he knew what I was. The look on my face
and the tone all over my testimony had gone beyond a simple camaraderie with
Armin. 
So we went to Jean’s house to strategize.
“Those pricks are on the fringe, anyway. They’re ignorant and proud, they just
got started early this year. Usually I can keep shit like that in check.” Jean
focused on his thoughts, holding Armin close and looking at me from across his
coffee table.  
I tongued the inside of my cheek to feel the bit of shredded flesh where one of
the boys hit me and it grazed my teeth. “How in the world do you keep that in
check; what do you even mean?”
“I mean I make friends with these guys, usually. You know, convince ‘em that
we’re not on different teams, that I’m cool, and—“
“That doesn’t make sense, though. They only like you because you’ve got money.”
Jean’s face fell like he’d expected that. He sighed and massaged his temples.
“No, it’s not just that. They like me because I act like a dude. You think I
don’t want to like being gay, to actually begay? I want to be gay. But it’s
like I’m wearing camouflage.”
“It’s lying! You’re literally letting guys like Armin take the fall because
you’re too scared.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jean leaned forward and had a finger In my face. Armin was
just out of my periphery, shaking his head like he was tired of everything. He
ducked into the dip between cushions and curled up, leaving the rest to us.
“I’m trying to make us look good!”
“Armin’s fine! What are you saying about him, by putting it that way?” I
gestured grandly at Armin, but, having none of it, he just snapped back at me.
“I’m the way I am, Eren. You know what Jean means.” The underlying message was
‘leave me out of this’.
Without him to defend me, I threw all of my offense back at Jean. “I can’t
believe you’d do that, then! It’s like… putting on a costume.”
“Yes!” Jean slapped his thighs and yelled at me, so intense that I was rattled.
“Yes, that’s exactly what it is, because I have the ability to do it! I had
people who liked me before I ever kissed a boy, because I had qualities people
liked! I’m generous and I’m pleasant and I let people take advantage of things
I have because that’s surviving, Eren! You think you can just coast by not
having friends and being all weird and broody, but you can’t!Especially not
now!”
I thought about Levi for the first time in a few hours and it was disquieting
enough to keep me from arguing with Jean. “You’re lucky you have your sister,”
he added. I had to read his body language to know he was sorry for his
outburst. He’d never admit that on his own. “Just know… both of you, know…
there are a lot more people who hate us than we can fight off. I tried it, and
it just got me in more trouble than it was ever worth, because even when people
side with us, it just makes the rest of them hate us more. So we have to try
and fit in as much as we can.”     
For the first time, I respected the experience I could see behind his
expression. Especially when it started to soften, and he wrung his hands in his
lap. “After Marco left I thought it wasn’t worth it anymore. I wanted to give
up and try to be normal, and then I met this goober.” He gestured back at
Armin, and even though he was halfway into a fetal position, arms tucked
between his knees and knees tucked beneath his chin, Armin smiled. “Like
literally, the same week I was trying to play straight, I met him. Sometimes
that’s how shit like that happens. Every now and then you remember that even
though it sucks, it’s worth it. You think I don’t know people joke about me and
take advantage of me? Come to my house and hang out but call me a cocksucker
behind my back? Of course they do! I’m not stupid. But I’m here. I’m in good
standing. I’m safe because I’m using what I have.”
I was quiet for several long moments. “I’m sorry,” I finally muttered.
He laughed drily and shook his head at me. “And that’s the thing, Eren, you’re
the last person who really needs to apologize to me.”
We spent the rest of the night distracting Armin, getting him back in a good
headspace, attempting to make him laugh. United for the common goal of
brightening his mood, Jean and I worked better together than I ever expected. I
had a question to ask him on my way out the door (Mikasa was picking me up –
Armin wanted to stay behind, and had every right to do so). “By the way, now
that I’m… you know…”
“Gay, Eren. Say it. That’s so fucking rude at this point if you don’t say it.”
“Gay. Now that I’m gay… is the bet still on?”
He looked right, then left, twisting his face into the most incredulous
expression he could muster. “Um, yes. Consider the stakes higher if nothing
else.”
We were still under the influence of the Kevin Smith movie we’d watched, and so
I was feeling rather open. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll have you know that
he’s already asked if I wanted to.”
“Really?” He didn’t believe me. “Bullshit.” He rejected it. “Really?” He
reconsidered.
I nodded, lips fluttering into a smile as I thought about my life on the other
side of all the crap. “Yeah. I said no. I mean, I said no for now.”
Jean stomped on the floor and laughed. “Why would you—what—?! Okay, I’m really
happy where I currently am, but Tirne des Ailes both in and out of drag is a
sweet piece; what are you, high?”
“No, I just remembered the other part of the bet. That I have to prove he likes
me.”
Jean started to nod slowly. A smile spread across his face. One hand in pocket,
he shoved a fist gently at my shoulder. “You’re good people, Eren. Sorry I give
you crap for your attitude, but you deserve it.”
“We can’t all be like you,” I noted. He laughed at it, but understood the
subtle insult that it was.
Wagging his finger at me, he turned the gesture into a wave. “See ya. I’ll take
care of Armin for a while.”
I sucked in a deep breath, remembering everything again. “Thank you.”
“Try not to suck any dicks on the way to the car!”
Mikasa and I didn’t really talk during the drive. She said she loved me, once,
in a way that was oddly disconnected from everything else going on, and I said
it back. “My arms are killing me. I going right into the tub when we get home,”
she added, and that was it.
It was just past 9:00. I asked her to drop me off at the donut shop if Levi was
still there, if he’d been there that night at all. Luckily, the Camaro was
still parked outside when we passed. As I hopped out of the car, senses reeling
that I might be able to salvage some of the day after all, she shouted as loud
as she could, “Be good!”
Levi was smoking against the door of his car, fitting in one more cigarette
before he drove home. Of course he heard it. “Aye-aye, Mikasa,” he lifted an
eyebrow and smirked when I got closer.
“Hey,” I said sheepishly.
“Hey. I was wondering why I hadn’t seen you in a couple of days. Thought I’d
scared you off.”
“Nah. No. Not at all,” I answered, stepping closer. Awkwardly, I just stood
there. “It’s just been a really bad day.”
“Well…” He sucked one last drag off the cigarette and toed it out in the
gravel. “Wanna get lost for a while? You can tell me about it.”   
“Yeah.”
His apartment was on the second floor in a recently built complex between
neighborhoods, not quite income-based but also obviously not part of the luxury
offerings. It was nice. It was small. It was Spartan. Of course, it was also
spotless. He invited me in, removed his shoes at the door, and apologized for
not having a couch or a table or anywhere to sit. There were two bean bag
chairs situated in front of the TV in the living area. “It’s fine,” I said, and
accepted a seat. 
He poured himself a Scotch on the rocks and offered me a bit as well. “Might as
well start you drinking.” I told him to take it easy, since I didn’t exactly
like the idea of facing a hangover on a school day, and he brought over a
lowball glass with two fingers of dark brown Scotch.
“You sip it,” he instructed me. “This is supposed to last you an hour or two.
So taking it easy is up to you.”
I taste tested it, and nearly vomited. I kept the knee-jerk reaction at bay,
though, and thanked him. Then I remembered, even if I did have a hangover, it
wouldn’t matter. I wasn’t going to school the next morning.
“So what sort of day have you had?” He looked like a black spot in the middle
of his plain beige and white living room, wearing the same leather pants I’d
seen him in on the first day we met. I wanted to just crawl over and settle on
top of him, wrap myself into those limbs and not talk about it. Talking about
It, though, would probably help.
“My friend’s car got vandalized,” I mentioned first. “I got suspended because
we beat up the shitheads who did it. Well, Mikasa and I did that.”
“Vandalized? That’s shitty. Like what, they keyed his car or something?”
“No, they painted stuff all over it.”
“What? That seems pretty excessive. Good on you for beating them up. What the
hell did he do to them? What sort of stuff did they paint?”
I paused. “Like, ‘die faggot’. That sort of stuff.”
Levi went silent and stopped swirling his glass. Just like I’d seen from Jean,
wisdom glazed his eyes as he processed it. Finally saying it out loud made me
remember how scared I was. For Armin, for myself. For the rest of my life.
I felt tears stinging my eyes before I could stop them. Not wanting to cry in
front of Levi, I shoved my wrists against my face and growled gently. “Hey, I
know you don’t like kissing, but… how about just…”
He was there before I could say anything else, sighing with the weight of the
world behind it, smelling like clove cigarettes and laundry detergent. He slid
into the space next to me, and draped his arm around my shoulders. I leaned my
face into his chest and let a few of the tears go as he wrapped the other arm
around to cage me there.      
“Sweet little baby gay, now you know why I started taking every drug I could
get my hands on.” I’d never expected to hear what he said next. “I’m sorry.”
I wiped my nose on my wrist, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate that on his shirt,
and glared. “I feel like shit because Armin doesn’t deserve that.”
“Neither do you. No one does. People are evil and horrible, and it’s always
going to be that way. At least it was only a gesture.” He smoothed my hair
back, more thoughtfully than I would have imagined, and went on. “Now, here’s
the thing I want you to understand above anything else: no one else is going to
save you, or take care of you. Having a community is not having a posse. It’s
having a safe place to come to cope. But you have to survive on your own.”
I felt like I’d already heard the same thing from Jean, but the burden of
responsibility behind it just made me seize up and want to cry again. Tears
leaked out, as hard as I tried to keep them back.
“And you can cry. Fucking cry,” he ordered me, wiping the wetness from my
cheeks with a swipe of his thumb. He looked stern. This was impossible to
ignore. “Cry a lot. Cry your little fag heart out, because it fucking hurts.”
I opened my mouth and actually sobbed, hiding my face in his t-shirt regardless
when I finally let go. Levi kept holding on. “Just know there’s somewhere to
go. There are people who love you, and that’s really powerful. Sure, they’re
dramatic and back-stabbing and they lie and cheat just as much as anyone else,
but the amazing part is that they know. We know. You’re probably thinking that
all you gained right now from your bravery is a suspension and a fucked-up
face, but let me tell you something: you and your friend just got the biggest,
most unconditional family ever.”
I thought about it as much as I dared to. I breathed hard a few times and
stopped crying because I knew I had to tell him. “My mom died. My dad ignores
us. I don’t really… I don’t really have a family.”
“I just told you, yes you do.” He wasn’t insistent about it, but the suggestion
was easy enough. He added, after a pause, “How did your mom die?”
“Cancer.”
He gave it the moment of silence it deserved. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It happened really quickly.”
“That’s even worse.” Levi was not the sort to sugar-coat the truth. It really
was worse. I’d watched her die from the inside out. We couldn’t afford the
treatment she needed at that stage. “But I can assure you, no matter where you
go and what you do, you have a support system. You just have to find it.”
I finally caught a deep breath, and relaxed. “Thanks.”
We were quiet for a long time, which I was perfectly content to be. By the time
I was finally matching Levi’s breathing pattern, three sips deeper into my
glass of scotch, I said, “Erwin suspended me. He’s the one who handled the
whole thing.”
Levi nodded, his expression thin and unreadable. “Hope he’s proud of himself
for that.”
“You’re right, what you said about him. He’s very cold.”
“He’s so far in the closet he has his own garment bag,” Levi quipped bitterly.
I couldn’t help exploding with laughter, delighted that it felt comfortable to
do so.
“There’s nothing better you could be doing tonight, is there?” I asked, because
I hate guessing whether people want to be around me and I’m awful at reading
social cues.
He thought for a moment; less than that, actually. “Nope. Absolutely nothing.”
“You don’t mind that I’m just a kid?”
“You’re not just a kid,” he said quietly, like he was reprimanding me for even
saying it. “You’re just young. But you’ve already had to do a lot more growing
up than most of these brats.”
I tilted my head back against his shoulder. He was smaller than me, yes, but I
liked the feeling of being held in that particular situation.
“But I still get to call you kid,” he said, and leaned his head in to nuzzle my
hair almost tenderly. “Kid.”
I was perfectly happy with that answer. At least there was something about the
day that I was happy with.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     So here is some Levi POV, but instead of being 7.5 it’s 8.5 is that
     okay? And while there is a very awesome (I hope) and gratifying (I
     hope) Ereri ending to this chapter, this is also heavy on the Eruri
     because IT’S LEVI’S POV and heeeeeey. Also I ship Eruri and Ereri
     both so, why don’t we have both? Hey. Why don’t we. Both. Yes. This
     chapterette, yes. Both. Shhhh don’t tell me which you like better
     because I love them both and don’t ask how the story will end, up
     it’s pretty obvious Levi can’t end up with Erwin that’s just balls-
     out impossible so trust me. Let’s take a ride together wheee. <3
Levi
I listened to George Michael and came extremely close to crying, then hated
myself for it, because there is nothing more embarrassing than crying to a
George Michael song, even when that song is “Father Figure” and the lyrics hit
painfully close to home. It was 5 o’clock in the morning, though, and I was
under the influence of whiskey. That may help to explain it. Not too
muchwhiskey, mind you, but just enough to peel back some layers. Whiskey puffs
my emotions up like a boiled lobster and the shell has no choice but to pop
right open over all of that bullshit. Vodka doesn’t do that. Neither does beer.
I only drink whiskey at home for that very reason.
Eren—the brat, the kid, the little lamprey I’d somehow come to tolerate – fell
asleep in the beanbag chair in my living room sometime around midnight. I
stayed there for some time with the television on, watching 120 Minutes
followed by reruns of the Golden Girls, until he muttered something in his
sleep and turned unconsciously away from me. It was sort of a relief; it hadn’t
felt right to let him go until he let go himself. The downside was that I was
under the influence of just enough whiskey, and when Eren flipped onto his side
half of his t-shirt got caught in the twist.
Usually I’m not one for younger guys. The simple look of him wasn’t entirely
appealing to me, either. I had two set types – those who could throw me over
one shoulder and make me feel like a pretty little glove that barely fit, or
fragile, graceful ladyboys with more bone than skin. I liked extremes. Eren
fell somewhere comfortably but boringly between all of them. Touching him on
the occasions I’d been allowed, I couldn’t deny he was strong, and taking a
closer look at him now that I gave a damn, I couldn’t deny he was attractive,
but the fact remained that he was simply average.
Something about the way he cried was endearing, and I gritted my teeth through
that feeling while I anointed my own weakness in platitudes and practiced
advice. Pity is an incredibly terrible reason to want to bone someone. But it
blended together with Scotch and the sight of his bare skin; abdomen
surprisingly defined (probably a natural blessing), and jeans pulled low enough
in the relaxed position that a delicious little hipbone jutted out.
I remembered that I’d offered to fuck him. I let my mind wander to what I’d
been thinking, and realized that what I’d been thinking had been pretty goddamn
incredible. My throat barely suppressed a frustrated whine at the idea of a
tight virgin ass as vessel for a kid who looked at me like he practically
worshipped me. My creativity peaks after midnight, so I was privy to all the
lurid machinations of my uncensored mind, unable to resist running a single
finger down the middle of Eren’s back to the spot where his jeans interrupted
me. His skin was soft, it was hot.
But I’m making inroads toward not being a complete asshole, so I stood up
against the protests of my growing boner before I thought too much about how
perfect it would be to just pull his ass against my hips and wake him up with a
suggestion he couldn’t refuse.
I didn’t turn the lights on when I stumbled to my bed, but I closed my eyes
anyway while I took matters into my own hands. The fact that Eren was pure
speculation made my mind wander to other, more well-known areas. I shoved my
pants off and let them hang around one ankle, spread my knees and brought both
feet up onto the mattress, because I like feeling like an exhibit. I like the
feeling of being looked at, even when I’m not being looked at. I didn’t just
want someone who looked at me like he worshipped me. I wanted to be desired
furiously, by a man possessed by the sort of reckless lust that makes him
disappear for weeks at a time, spend thousands of dollars, and risk losing his
job just for the privilege of fucking me. A man who knew how to use what he
had, who didn’t need to be taught a damn thing except perhaps how not to break
a heart.
I’d never had it as good as I had it from him. I hissed into the darkness and
my cock felt tighter at the thought, at the memory of how he used to bait me
into my wildest moments, taunting me from the unfeeling place I’d learned to
inhabit for the purpose of sexual recreation. Losing hope in the chivalric
ideal of Erwin Smith did not abate my basest cravings. If anything, losing him
as a savior made me see him even more clearly as a lover, as a man willing to
cheat on his wife and lie just to satisfy the urge to take me for everything my
body had in the moments that we found each other.
I slowed my strokes on those memories, moaning deep in my throat and lifting my
feet, remembering. The first time he approached me at the Bent Ducat, he’d
already seen me eyeing him for at least three nights prior. He passed me at the
bar and ran the tips of his fingers up the back of my neck, teasing the edges
of my longer hair. After I had significant time to react, he leaned in to ask
me, “Do you mind me touching you?”
Being the way I am, I just looked at him, tried to judge his character by the
glimmer in his pretty blue eyes, and said, “I’m ready,” before finishing my
vodka and tonic.
I certainly was not ready. I led him to the back of the club, where I would
lead him several more times as the weeks wore on, into the small labyrinth of
dressing rooms, nooks, and crannies only occupied occasionally by the staff and
those on the inside. Immediately – and this is a strange thing if you’ve ever
experienced it – it was like we knew each other. Sexually, we must have been
made from complementary molds, both mental and physical. He slammed me into a
wall, knowing that was exactly what I wanted. When I gasped, he kissed me
before I could even finish the breath.
The way we kissed, angry and hungry and possessed by demons we didn’t name,
made me never want to kiss anyone again. That’s the part I didn’t tell Eren,
when I laid the ground rules. I didn’t have to ask Erwin much – at first,
definitely not, and really not ever – to know how to move and where to go and
what he wanted. I dropped my pants and made a whorish show of slobbering all
over my fingers before sticking them into my ass, priming myself only as much
as I could stand before I had to have him.
I cried openly and bit my knuckle, before I decided to just gnaw on his neck to
gird myself against the pain. It was the deep-dicking equivalent of a ludicrous
coke hit. My eyes rolled toward the back of my head and I growled once I was
used to the feeling, trying to gain some rhythm against his raw power, some
traction against his sheer size.
My main expectation, with my legs dangling uselessly as he held me against the
wall, was that it would be over and done, and I’d leave with the memory of a
great fuck, a great cock and little more. Then he asked me, more tenderly than
I’d ever imagined, so unexpectedly it almost gave me whiplash, “Do you feel
good?”
Those are the parts that stick with me. That’s what makes it unbearable, agony
in retrospect. Days and weeks, beyond that first time, of Erwin taking special
care to facilitate mypleasure, despite the fact that I thought I already had
exactly what I wanted. I considered the word “lover” and it turned into a tidal
wave of emotion, because I realized only once we were in the same bed that I’d
never truly had one before.    
Confusing feelings and regrets and anger only bubbled beneath the surface most
of the time, though. I remembered his mouth drawing unholy glory from me as he
worked my cock and my ass, I remembered feeling his come inside of me, his dick
inside of me, ensuring I came in every way possible before he was content to
stop. Sometimes we even kept going after that.
I felt like breaking the waves when I started to seize, thumbing the tip of my
cock to make sure I came on my stomach. Even with such care, I shot halfway up
my chest, rendering my shirt another victim for the laundry hamper. “Shit,” I
muttered, but it wasn’t in disappointment.
I recovered quickly. I always did, if I was alone. Wallowing in the afterglow
of self-gratification was never my style. I pulled my pants up and began a load
of laundry immediately. The creativity usually started to ebb around dawn. I’d
already wasted it on a fantasy that was half remembered reality, so the only
thing left to do was clean. That’s when I put the music on. That’s when George
Michael hit me like a ton of bricks, and I hurried to change the tape to
something less evocative before I thoroughly ruined my own evening with too
many feelings.
I was changing tapes when I heard the noise in the living room. Subtle, but
definite. I’d actually managed to forget Eren was there, which was probably a
good thing. My mind hadn’t shifted much in its fixation, though. I didn’t even
have time to start listening to another song before I left my Walkman on top of
the dryer and walked back in to see him blinking awake with a confused look on
his face.
“Did I…” He started to speak before he even knew I was in the room. His eyes
scanned the place as they started to focus, and he still hadn’t pulled his
shirt down. His hair was sticking out oddly on one side, his cheeks were pink
from being pressed into the beanbag chair. An angelic little vision in my hard-
earned apartment, really. I’d studied him rather thoroughly by the time he
looked up at me.
Maybe he wanted to ask if he’d fallen asleep. Maybe he wanted to ask what time
it was, or whether he could make a phone call to let his sister know where he
was. Any number of things, really, until he noticed I was shirtless. It was
like I could pinpoint the moment his throat went dry and he decided to keep his
mouth shut.    
How many men had he looked at sexually, since coming to terms with the fact
that he’d been doing it subconsciously for years? I wondered if I was patient
zero, and if this was his worryingly naïve little heart’s first experience
being alone with a man who wanted him.
I knew it was true, and I knew what I had to do. Waiting on Eren was not an
option. He wasn’t the white knight with a jaw-dropping body giving suggestive
touches at a bar, but he was something much more powerful than that. He was
still okay. He wasn’t a scrap and build boy, hardened and broken, salvageable
at best. He wasn’t like me.
It made me want him so much that I knew I couldn’t fuck it up by speaking. But
I also knew that the standard protocol required me to mark my territory. I was
going to work on him. I was going to make sure this went right for him. Maybe I
didn’t have a white knight, but it’s strange the way things get placed in your
path. There was still something to be good for.
I wanted him to know that I intended to work on him.  
“What time is it?” Eren asked me after several moments, moving as he did to
untwist his shirt and pull it back over his stomach. I mourned silently.
“Early.”
Again, he stopped himself just short of saying something. I could see his eyes
sweeping me, resting on my face then wandering again. Clearing his throat gave
him a moment to think. I made a resolution then; if he started with “I’m
sorry”, I needed to do something differently. If he didn’t, well… then we would
talk.
“I’m sorry I—“
“Shut up.”
He probably thought he was in trouble for some reason, the way his shoulders
fell and his face softened into something abject and expectant. I blinked
slowly and allowed myself a chance to reconsider what my instincts told me to
do.
I didn’t reconsider.
“Um—“ Eren started when I bent down. I set my hands on either side of him,
leaning close, putting my knees between his legs. “Um.” It was all he could
say. Kissing him crossed my mind, but it would have been insincere at that
particular moment. I hovered my lips as close to his mouth as I dared, and I
waited to see if he would take the bait. But Eren was, despite all of his
posturing, his walls, his facades that crumbled the moment someone called him
out on them, a good boy.
There wasn’t much to reading him. I didn’t know his story completely, but he’d
already shown me what was most important. The rest of the pieces would fit as
necessary. My hand found a fluttering heartbeat when I touched his chest, and
the throb only got stronger when I nudged his chin aside to kiss his neck.    
Tasting people was still something that appealed to me. From the most nuanced
conversational flavors to the literal sense of getting someone’s skin beneath
my teeth, I found that I could usually predict rather accurately what a man was
all about by the way he tasted.
Eren was the nervous sweat of a teenage boy, the toughness of a man before his
time mixed with the pure sweetness of something untouched. I sucked hard on his
neck, completely intending to leave a spotty red mark that would bloom toward
the middle of the day, and continued to kiss past the fabric of his shirt
collar. “Nnn?” He started, any words stunted by rather obvious excitement. He
was breathing hard, and I could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath my
kisses, the quiver of his tight stomach as I ran my fingers over it in a subtle
test.
“Are you—?“ He started to ask a question that was so obvious, and thank
goodness he stopped himself. I couldn’t have resisted breaking character with a
comment about his lack of perception. Then again, I shut him up by looking at
him from the break between his shirt and his waistband, stretched like a cat
between legs that had definitely spread further apart since I’d been there.
My glare was a confirmation, and the twitch of an eyebrow was asking
permission. Eren didn’t stop me. He squirmed and gulped, and his lips moved
just a little bit, but whatever he wanted to say wasn’t as important as what
his body was already telling me.
I kept watching him while I slipped my hand between his legs, knowing his eyes
would close. They did, and I took the opportunity to smile as he let go of a
shaky, half-confident moan. He was already a thick ridge of hardness beneath my
hand, testament to how much he wanted me and how easily I’d exacerbated that.
Without the instruction, he relaxed and leaned back, making and grabbing
handles from the formless bean bag chair.
My lips opened wide around him while he was still trapped in his jeans, and I
tongued the fabric liberally, torturing him with that until he was writhing,
pushing his hips alternately toward me and as deep into his seat as possible.
I interrupted the latest in a series of pleading, whining groans and reached
for his fly.
We were on a time limit. This was only a preview for him. I pulled his pants
down only as far as I had to so I could see his cock spring free and settle
into a proud curve toward his belly, hard as a lead pipe and pretty as the sort
of perverted postcard I would appreciate.
Expecting to give a horny and emotionally frustrated 16 year old his first blow
job and draw out the process would be idiotic. Instead, I threw in all my
favorite tricks immediately and let Eren’s body choose which one would send him
over the edge. I held him in my hand and gave him a few firm strokes to get him
used to the feeling before I laid kisses on the underside of his cock. My lips
moved thoroughly from balls to head, energized by the fact that I hadn’t felt
someone react so freely in years.       
“Levi…” He gasped my name, probably intending to say it louder, but somehow
that whisper of intimation was even better. I rewarded him with an exacting,
ice cream cone lick to the tip of his cock, and my peripheral vision caught his
hand clutching the bean bag chair tightly, desperately.   
Eren surged against my mouth with an emphatic moan, and I could tell from that
moment that his potential was enormous. He had the capacity to control, to
dominate the proceedings. As it was, he was the pupil. All good things in time.
I reached over and grabbed his hand, wrested it from its shaky grip and dropped
it on top of my head. I couldn’t see his face as he received the hint, but he
took it with a gasp and spread his fingers tentatively into my hair.
I slid my lips over his cock, catching the tip in my mouth and sucking. The
bitter taste of precome electrified me from there, and I went further, sucked
harder, listened to Eren panting in time with my rhythm, telling me by the way
his fingers tightened on my head that I was a fantastic teacher.
“Ah--!” He didn’t need to be guided up to and through the moment of release; it
snuck up on him and he was holding me fast to his cock before he could have
warned me. I didn’t mind at all. “Oh, God. Oh, God…” I sucked on him as he
came, swallowing, concentrating on giving him something to remember, something
to return for.    
His breath reached a high, shaky pitch by the time I knew he’d (finally) given
me everything he had, determined as I’d been to keep coaxing it out of him.
“Stop,” he told me with a worrying tone, “oh my God, stop.”
He was still hard and tender when I pulled my mouth off, too tender to process
the continued stimulation. His free wrist was thrown over his face but I
reached up to pull it away. His cheeks were flushed. His face was perfect.
What possessed me to say what I said next? I knew, but just like a lot of my
demons, I didn’t want to give it a name. “Do you feel good?”
He nodded at me weakly, and I responded with a strange little self-satisfied
noise from the back of my throat where I could still taste him. “Good,” I said.
I stood up, looked around my apartment, and ignored my own burgeoning erection.
Wiping a thumb on the corner of my mouth, I turned to Eren. “We should take you
home.”
I left the room to find a shirt before he could say something stupid like
“thank you.”
 
    
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter Notes
     Back to the natural flow of the story. Teenagers being teenagers,
     cuties being cuties, Levi being Levi.
     Can I get a wut-wut for the potential Jean/Armin chapterette that
     will follow this one if I post it at all, because my brain is gonna
     need a shove to rework this thing before I'm ready to showcase it and
     I really want them to get a moment to shine. Now's the time, too. :P
     Again, wow, dang, golly, gee-whiz thanks everyone for reading and
     spreading the word and generally just being here. This is
     overwhelming, I suppose I'm burdened with glorious purpose now??
I watched him walk away and got an eyeful of his tattoo, forced myself to calm
down until my dick got soft enough to comfortably tuck back into my pants, and
leaned anxiously against the wall until Levi returned.
“I like your tattoo,” I told him, casually avoiding the subject of what he’d
just done to me.
“Thanks,” he grabbed his wallet and shoved it into his back pocket, twisting
slightly to hook the chain onto the appropriate loop while I kept talking.
“What’s it supposed to mean?” That was a dumb way to put it. I sighed and
rephrased the question. “I mean, I know they’re wings. But they’re two
different wings. What does that mean?”
Levi sighed and shrugged. “There’s this quote I really love, it goes ‘we are
each angels with one wing, and we can only fly by embracing each other.’I knew
I wanted to have wings, but I mentioned that quote when my friend was designing
the piece, and this is what he came up with. I love it.” He took a few moments,
didn’t look at me, and I saw a hint of a wistful look on his face. “I guess
it’s even more poignant since I can never see it myself.”  
I followed him when he made for the door, and once we were on the landing I
finally put together what I wanted to say, in words that didn’t sound utterly
lame. “I’d think you were actually a romantic, with that quote.”
“I am a romantic,” Levi snapped back, glancing at me over his shoulder for a
split second as we took the stairs. “That’s another good quote, ‘scratch a
cynic, find a romantic’.”
“Who said that?”
“Everyone over the age of 20. Romanticism is probably the most hardcore ideal
you can subscribe to. Hey, look, the sun’s coming up.” He paused in the middle
of the parking lot and I nearly ran into him. I doubled back to keep my cool,
and looked out at the scenery with him. His apartment complex was situated in
such a way that he faced the hills in the East, and sure enough I could see the
sun peeking out over the ridge.
It was strangely beautiful; really calm, really peaceful with no one else in
the lot and the world totally quiet. But then, everything felt especially
profound after what had just happened.
“Let’s go,” he said without another comment, and turned to the car.
I studied the way he took to get from his place back to mine, finding it a nice
distraction from letting my mind wander too far on our interactions.
“Do you have a pen?” He asked out of nowhere once we were on the city’s main
thoroughfare.
“What? Yeah. Why?” I still had my backpack, after all.
“I want you to have my phone number. Just, you know…” He hesitated and then
harrumphed to himself. “I mean, don’t call me for no reason, but if you need
to… you know.”
Was he worriedabout me? Had yesterday’s incident sparked a side of Levi that I
wouldn’t have predicted existing in a million years? It nearly made me smile,
but I just cleared my throat and pulled out a notebook and a pen. “Sure. Go
ahead.”
He gave me his number, and I wrote it on the front inside cover of my English
notebook with no context or label. I looked at it once I had, and couldn’t help
the fact that my heart flip-flopped a little.
“Hey,” he interrupted my fleeting brush with romanticism.
“What.”
“What do you like about me? Be honest, what could you possible like about me?”
I tucked the notebook into my backpack and narrowed my eyes at Levi. “Are you
insecure or something?”
“Kid, if anyone in this world isn’tinsecure, they’re a sociopath.”
I still didn’t know what to say. Your legs. The way you look at me like you
want to eat me and then look at me like you want to figure me out, within the
same seconds. That first time you told me to shut the fuck up. The shape of
your face. The fact that you sucked my dick.
“You have to be wondering the same thing,” he said bluntly.
“Hey!”
Levi just shrugged. I looked back out the window and answered him finally. “I
mean, I really don’t know anything about you still.”
He scoffed, more than a little offended. “Are you kidding? I poured out my
heart to you, and—“
“That’s things that happened to you!” I countered immediately. I wasn’t so
enchanted that I still wouldn’t cut him off or raise my voice. “You told me
things that happened to you, but there’s still so little to go on.”
“Then why do you like me?” He made it sound like an ultimatum, and I began to
sweat. Like if I didn’t have an adequate answer, that was it. Game over. Do not
pass Go, do not collect further blowjobs.
“Because you’re honest and you’re hot.” I answered sharply, then screwed my
eyes shut and growled. I knew it was probably the worst answer.
“Well.”
I couldn’t read his tone, but that was nothing new. My brain jumped back to the
fact that he’d already given me his phone number. That was a step, right? Was
this just a test to make sure I deserved it, or was I reading too much into
things?
We turned onto my street. “I tried to go back to school and get my GED, but I
fucked that up because, obviously, I was strung out. I test at genius level
every time I focus, but no one will think of me as anything but a fuck-up as
long as I don’t do it the way it’s supposed to be done. I broke into my
neighbor’s house when I was nine years old to steal a TV. Just to see if I
could do it. I had a gun pointed me. I legitimately thought he was going to
pull the trigger. Maybe those are still things that just happenedto me, but
maybe those things give you an idea of why I don’t talk about my feelings
much.”
I nodded, feeling humbled, feeling a little humiliated. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Yeah, you’ve been through some shit too.”
“Nothing like that.”
“It doesn’t matter. Once you’ve decided that your heart is more important to
you than other people are, it’s tough to change it. You get that, right?”
I nodded.
“Don’t think people always drift into these streams of interaction, like you’ve
been taught all your life because movies and books say so. It’s a lot…
different from that.” He slowed to a stop in front of my house. I wanted to say
I knew what he meant, but I also knew that the very point of everything he said
was showing me how much I didn’tknow.
I stared at the driveway. Something looked different, but I wasn’t in the right
frame of mind to process it. I wondered if Mikasa was worried about me. I’d
give her Levi’s number, too. I didn’t have to tell him.
“If it matters,” he said, throwing the car into park and sighing loudly, “I
like you because your body is honest.”
“What?” I turned back and maybe looked a little harsh when he said it. Was that
a sexual comment? I wasn’t sure whether I minded.
He rolled his eyes halfway and tilted his head toward me. “When you lie or
exaggerate, it’s all over you. You’re cute because you’re incapable of
deceiving anyone, really. You’re transparent.” He paused. He didn’t want to say
anything else, I could tell, but he did. “And your eyes are beautiful.”
I didn’t know whether to be insulted. I prided myself on my bluffing
capabilities. Maybe I just made it a point to exercise it around people far
less sharp than Levi. The remark about my eyes made everything else null and
void, though. I glanced aside, throat a little dry all of a sudden. “Thanks…” I
leaned back in my seat.
“Look at me,” he said.
“That was sort of embarrassing, I don’t—“
“Come here, you fucking brat, I’m trying to give you a goodbye kiss.”
My heart leapt up into my throat. I nodded and leaned forward awkwardly. I
thought he hated kissing. Maybe I’d blown that remark out of proportion in my
own mind.
“Don’t worry, I brushed my teeth,” he said softly, just before our lips pursed
together and I felt his hand slide over my shoulder and up into my hair. It’s
like that was a cue to open my mouth, to try and pry his lips apart with mine.
Our tongues barely touched before he pulled away, and pressed his lips instead
next to my ear. “Your cock’s really pretty, too.”
I breathed out hard through my nose and wondered if I would ever stop being
excited by every little thing he did, said, suggested. My hand grappled
backwards for the door handle, and I managed to stumble out of the car and up
the walkway after the requisite goodbyes.   
“I’m home,” I said as I entered, but very softly. Mikasa had drawn the blinds
to drown the whole house in an artificial darkness. The television was on,
though, at a very low volume. I stepped over to one of the tables in the living
room, kicking aside a stray pillow as I did, and turned a lamp on.
Mikasa was wrapped in an afghan on the couch. I quickly turned the lamp off
again before I woke her. She did that occasionally, falling asleep in the
living room by the light of the television. I had no idea whether it was my
fault or not, so I didn’t want to presume she’d fallen asleep while waiting on
me. I wove between the couch and the coffee table, and took a seat on the edge,
in the spot left by the crook of her knees.
My mind went sort of fuzzy and blank as I noticed the stack of cash, and the
note on the coffee table. “Aww, shit…” I muttered, and reached in to pick it
up. As soon as I touched it, my head went up and I switched to high alert mode,
scanning the room for anyone else.
“He left this morning,” Mikasa muttered, and when I turned to look at her she
was glancing up at me from above the line of the afghan’s fringe. “I got into a
fight with him and he left. He put a battery in the station wagon. You can
drive it again. He also paid the cable bill, finally.”
I licked my lips, realizing they were suddenly dry, and my shoulders relaxed.
No one knew what my dad did, really. Maybe at one point it had been honest, but
only mom could have told us that. Maybe his honest work had only been for mom’s
sake. I remembered hearing, when I was little, that he was a doctor. Then I
learned that doctors made more money than I’d ever seen in my life, and I
started to realize I was being lied to. When mom got sick and he couldn’t do
anything about it, then I knew for sure. Mikasa figured he was a con man. I
didn’t really care to think about him enough to develop my own theory.
“He was here when I got home. He’s pissed at us for getting suspended. I tried
to explain what happened and he just… he tried to act all righteous and shit,
and I swear to god, Eren, I should have hit him. I should have just hit him.”
“No, it’s good that you just let him leave.”
She sighed deeply. “He left us money for the month. I’m so tempted to go and
buy a stereo, then go to Child Services while I’m still 17.”
“Hn.”
“I’m not going to, of course.”
We talked about it, on occasion. Going to Child Services and seeing what
happened. But then we thought about the downside of that. The potential of
foster homes. All sorts of bullshit we didn’t want to deal with. So we dealt
with the negligence and learned to budget three hundred dollars a month,
sometimes less.  
“What time is it?” She started to sit up, moving her legs around me lazily.
“Like, seven. I guess. Seven thirty?”
“Christ, it feels later than that.” Mikasa yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Where
were you?”
I looked at her plainly for a second before answering. “At Levi’s.”
“No shit,” she chirped almost happily. “So what, did you get laid?”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. Not to my sister. “Um, no. Not really.”
She paused mid-stretch and smirked at me. “Congratulations.”
I made an uncomfortable noise and stood up, prompting her to laugh more fully.
She kicked me lightly when I moved. “Not a bad way to inaugurate your
suspension, is it?”
I just shrugged, and she went on. “What are you doing today, then? Any juvenile
delinquent plans?”
“Don’t they, like, arrest you if you go out when you’re suspended?” I asked.
“On what grounds?” Mikasa snorted. She would know, I reminded myself. It had
happened to her before. She got suspended for fighting in middle school. Twice.
Both times, she’d been backing me up. If she wasn’t pulling down A’s in every
class and making the school look good with her standardized test scores, no
doubt she would have been labeled a discipline problem by now. No one had the
guts to call her out, though. “I’m going to the mall as soon as it opens. Do
you want breakfast?”
I was actually starving. “Yeah.”
“I feel like celebrating our delinquency. You want McDonald’s?”
The simple truth was that I always existed in a state of wanting McDonald’s.
“Yes.”
So, we celebrated with pancake platters and coffee. We ate in silence, for the
most part, because eating is always more important than talking. At one point,
while I looked out the window and wondered if Armin had chosen to stay home for
the day, Mikasa shocked me with a yelping laugh.
She clapped her hand over her mouth just as soon as she’d done it, and I
snapped toward her with a glare. “He gave you a hickey,” she moved her hand
aside to whisper.
“What’s a hickey?” I asked, leaning in further and squinting.
“You’re 16 years old,” she said flatly, reaching into her purse without taking
her eyes off of me. “And you don’t know what a hickey is.”
“Can you please not make me feel like I’m an idiot?” I buried my face in my
hands and shook it there, until Mikasa shoved something against my forehead. I
looked up and grabbed the compact with a frustrated sigh.
“You are an idiot. That thing on your neck is a hickey,” she pointed and I held
up the mirror, looking at my neck where she indicated. My eyes flashed wide at
the red spot I saw.
“Oh.”
“You’re blushing.”
I closed the compact and shoved it at her. “Shut up!”
“It’s a good sign!” She laughed. “I mean, I’m not crazy about some dude marking
up my little brother, but—“
“He’s not just some dude. You know him.” I interrupted her and sipped from my
coffee way too fast, considering how hot it was.
“Yeah, it doesn’t mean I won’t kick his ass if he does you wrong.”
“I don’t know that even you could kick his ass,” I muttered, chewing on the
edge of the cup’s plastic lid and glancing at Mikasa. “I mean that, he’s a
pretty big badass.”
“I’d try.” She raised one eyebrow, like it was a challenge. I just shrugged.
“I’m watching him. You tell him I’ve got my eye on him.”
“Tell him yourself.”
“I will!” She got up to throw away the remnants of her pancake platter.
We parted ways at the house, and I hopped into the station wagon for the first
time in over a month. I got used to the feeling of it, the old naugahyde smell
of it, the way I had to turn the ignition twice before it would start. I hated
it, but it was a means of conveyance. My first stop was Armin’s. I didn’t even
feel like giving him a warning phone call. That was one of the best parts of
our friendship; we could just show up whenever we wanted, no arrangements
needed. At the very least, I could volunteer to take the dog for a walk if he
was sleeping in.
Armin and his grandfather lived in a moss-covered brick house on a corner lot;
it was nicer than most of the houses in the neighborhood but still old and in
obvious disrepair. When I knocked on the door I had to give it a few minutes,
and then knock again. If Armin didn’t hear me, being so far back in the house,
his grandfather usually took his time getting to the door. I heard the dog
jumping against the door for almost a minute before human footsteps approached.
The old man pulled the door open, shushing the dog while he did. “Down, Rosie,
down. Eren! Hello! You’re around early, aren’t you?”
“Good morning, Mr. Arlert. How’s it going?”
He was okay, for an old guy. He’d been in the army, in combat, and probably
would have gone back if they’d let him. Even for all of that, he was probably
the tenderest adult I knew. It was easy to see where Armin had learned his
skills of diplomacy and empathy; his grandfather was the farthest thing from a
judgmental person I’d ever met.
I fell to my knees and let the dog jump up in my face, feeling the
instantaneous salve of canine affection ignite my good mood. “Oh, I’m just
watching TV as usual. Come on in. Armin should be back in his room, but I can’t
tell you he’s awake.”  
“I’ll go wake him up.” I laughed and breezed past him as he wobbled back into
the living room. I chirped for Rosie to follow me. “Let’s go wake him up, huh,
girl?”
I threw myself at Armin’s door and started beating on it with both fists,
smiling as I did. “Wake up,” I droned, letting the movement make my voice
vibrate.
“Oh my god,” I heard him groan after several seconds while he dragged himself
to the door. I snickered and petted Rosie; she jumped up to put her paws on the
door in imitation of me. “I’m coming!” Armin shouted over the noise I was
making, and I was still laughing when he threw the door open.
Armin slept in sweaters; he was cold no matter what the temperature was
outside, and to add to that his grandfather didn’t like to turn on the heat
until it was nearly freezing. I didn’t recognize the one he was wearing
currently, and the fact that it was a Trost High Titans sweater made me smirk
as soon as I got an eyeful of his sleepy, ornery face.
“That’s not yours,” I said sing-song, poking him in the chest between the T and
the A.
He rolled his eyes and yawned, throwing a leg behind me to keep Rosie out of
his room as he closed the door. I walked over and fell into his desk chair,
spinning once and drumming my hands on the armrests. “So you’re staying home
from school today? I mean, obviously.”
After a short, affirmative noise that was barely more than a grunt, he sat on
the bed and pulled his quilt back over his shoulders, bundling inside of it. He
yawned and I looked at him, waiting for Armin to take the next initiative in
the conversation.
“I fucked Jean,” he said on the wide open end of his yawn, and blinked at me
blearily.
“Levi blew me,” I replied just as matter-of-factly.
We were nervously silent for a few minutes. I started to pull on the same
string that had come loose on his chair’s armrest years ago. “Maybe…” He
started softly, reaching over to check his watch and attach it to his wrist.
“Maybe we should… go to the office more often?”
It was not as funny as I made it out to be, laughing before I realized that I
couldn’t possibly be asked to stop. Armin joined me, and by the time he fell
back onto his mattress and kicked at the air, all memory of yesterday’s
traumatic events was forgotten for a bit. 
“So how was that?” I asked, willing to trade hearing his details if it meant I
could give my own. Suddenly I understood Armin’s enthusiasm a lot more.
“Uh, amazing. Incredible. Uh, it was… it was good.” He laughed and buried his
face in his hands, then nodded firmly several times, smile still plastered on
thick. “Really, really good.”
“How long did you last?”
“Oh! Oh, since you ask, like two minutes! Jerk.” He laughed and hid his face
once more, reaching out to smack me. “No, for real, it didn’t take long at all,
but there was a lot of prep, if you know what I mean.”
“Okay, fine, I’m going to say something I never would have been able to say
before, and even now it sort of makes me uncomfortable to say, but you’re my
best friend and I have to say it because you won’t judge me too much…”
He sat back and gave me a strange half-smile, waiting for me to continue.
“Jean has a nice ass.”
“I toldyou!” Armin came up off of the bed for a moment to shove at me with both
hands, sending me rolling back in the chair until I hit his desk laughing. “I
told you! God! Wow. I… oh, man, I don’t want to ever not be doing him now.”
I nodded like I had any idea about the memories he was processing, obsessing
over. He got lost in his own little world, then, pulling at his bottom lip and
looking out at nothing in particular. When he remembered he was in the same
room as me, he glanced over and chuckled. “So… how about your little
adventure?”
“Not yet. You’ve hardly told me anything. You need to share at least one
detail.” I lifted an eyebrow, and Armin scoffed and threw a pillow at me.
“No I don’t!”
“Yes you do! What, you’ve been gung-ho about doing it up until now, suddenly
you can’t?”
“I don’t know!” He was grinning but he was shrugging at me. “It’s just now it’s
more… special, you know? Intimate, I don’t know.”
“Did you do it facing him, or from behind?”
He fell back onto the bed and covered his face, kicking the air again. “Stop!
Oh my god, Eren, this is really weird all of a sudden!”
“It’s not weird, you’re just self-conscious!”
He popped back into a sitting position and pulled an incredulous face. “I told
you about how I gagged on his dick. I’m not self-conscious. It’s just… it’s
private.”
“You were facing him, weren’t you?”
With that, Armin cried out and snatched the pillow back from me.
“I was right!”
“How did you know?” He giggled furiously.
“Because you two are all, you know, you’re lovey-dovey like that. Speaking of
which, have you said I Love You yet? Please tell me you have.”
“Yes,” he said softly, not looking at me, smiling. “Last week.”
“I didn’t know that.” It didn’t really bother me.
“I didn’t want to steal your thunder; you’d just confessed you were gay.”
“Well, I appreciate that.”
Armin nodded and shrugged again, awake at last but still a little lost in his
memories.
I broke the ice again. “Does he have an ugly O face? I’ll bet he does.”  
“I swear to god, Eren…” Armin started threateningly, and pushed the sleeves of
Jean’s sweater further up his arms, like he was ready to beat me down.
I took him for a drive in the station wagon and proceeded to tell him what had
happened at Levi’s.
“You two are weird,” he said after he’d been sufficiently curious and
supportive about it. We were headed to the mall, for no real reason other than
to kill some time.
“What’s that supposed to mean? We are what we are.”
“I mean, it sounds like you’re good for each other! No offense, but I couldn’t
really see you rolling up to someone’s house to pick them up for a date, you
know.”
I took no offense at all; he was right. “He says he’s a romantic, but he
doesn’t act like it. He really doesn’t act like it.”
“It’s not weird that he’s so much older than you?”
I shrugged. I tried to really think about it. “No. Even if I’d met him when he
was my age, we would’ve been so different that it wouldn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’re that different at all.”
I pulled into the mall parking lot, decelerating in time with my thoughts, to
give what Armin said time to sink in. “I mean…” I wanted to contradict it, but
not really. “Maybe you’re right.”
“You seem happy.”
“Do I?”
“You seem hopeful, I guess. Like, usually when your dad comes into town you
wallow in that for days on end. I like this. Maybe he’s good for you.”
I just nodded, and asked Armin if he wanted to catch a movie while we were near
the theater.
***** Chapter 11 *****
Chapter Notes
     Whoa, okay. This chapter introduces conflict and I'm sorry. Let me
     get that out of the way now. But no light without darkness, right?
     RIGHT??? GUYS WHERE ARE YOU GOING???
     I make a lot of song call-outs in this chapter, but I'm too lazy to
     make a mix and would rather you snake your way around YouTube if
     you're not acquainted with them, since the songs really help to set
     the mood (and the last one is practically a necessity, so... it's
     called "Alone", there I said it, go forth). Eh, I've come to terms
     with the fact that this fic is 50% dialogue and 40% atmospheric
     soundtrack (the other 10% is Levi's bodacious booty tbh).
     It's gonna be okay, guys. I promise it's going to be okay. We can get
     through this. Don't worry, I'm pretty attached too.
     I did give you some porn, though. Wheeeeee.
It turned into one of those days, after the movie and after Armin went back
home for a nap, that found me sprawled on the bed closing one eye and then the
other just to see what alternately came into focus. I had reading to do, I had
papers to write, and I definitely had a history book to crack open, but my only
thoughts regarding school were of the “fuck you” variety.
“There’s a Seinfeld marathon on,” Mikasa poked her head into my room to
mention.
“Ugh, I hate Seinfeld.” I sat up, at least. It was a step.
Mikasa kept staring at me from the doorframe, looking just as bored as I was.
“What?” I asked.
She just belched, without taking her eyes off me. “We’re also out of soda; go
to the store.” Then, she started laughing and ducked away before I could throw
the nearest pillow at her.
“I’m not going to the store; I just want to lay here!”
“Go visit your boyfriend!” She called from the hallway, voice muffled by
distance. “Or is it all weird now?”
It wasn’t. At least it hadn’t been until she mentioned it. Until she’d used the
word “boyfriend” and I started to actually think about that term, what it
meant, and how it could never really apply to me and Levi. Even for Jean and
Armin, the label had been dicey until recent weeks. Surely, my 25-year-old drag
queen sex buddy and sometime friend couldn’t be categorized as anything
particularly.
I sort of wanted to figure it out, though, or at least pretend like everything
was still normal. Again, maybe it was. I was still obsessing over the feeling
of his lips on mine, after he’d essentially told me not to kiss him. I assumed
that I was just overthinking things and headed to the donut shop shortly after
3:00.
It was, to both my relief and my continued tension, like nothing had even
happened. I noticed that Levi’s hair was freshly trimmed, and that his
fingernails were painted black. I said nothing about either of those things,
and our banter boiled down to my choice of clothing.
“Is that really a Hypercolor shirt?”
“I guess so,” I replied, pulling out the shirt to check it. Levi looked
momentarily disgusted. “Hey, listen, I have to take what I can get when it
comes to clothes!”
“Do you own pleated jeans?”
I hesitated. “Yes,” I finally mumbled.
He just sighed, obviously disappointed. To be fair, even I was disappointed in
my pleated jeans. “Come by my place later, I’m going to give you some things.” 
“Clothes?” I asked, still hesitating at the window with my order in hand.
I could see the smirk threatening to take over his face. “More than that, if
you play your cards right.”
In one of those extremely unfortunate cases of timing, a fat man walked up
behind me with donuts on his mind, and I had to cut our interaction short.
The shop got unexpectedly busy, and I didn’t have a chance to ask Levi what
time I should head over. I assumed sometime after 9:00 and went with it, trying
to seem as casual as possible while I frittered around the house and watched an
episode or two of Seinfeld with Mikasa.
It was coming up on 8:30 when she mentioned, “Oh, by the way, Annie’s on her
way over.”
“Nice! Did you care to tell me that sooner, or…?”
“You don’t have to leave, dingleberry, we’ll probably just watch TV and order a
pizza. You can hang out.” She clicked her tongue at me and added, “God.”
I shrugged. “I’m going out in a little while anyway. I’ll stay out of your
hair.”
She reached over and pulled at my hair. “Speaking of which, you need a
haircut.”
I swatted her arm away and gave into her taunt, trying to pull her hair right
back while she pushed firmly against my face. “You need a haircut!” Was the
best comeback I could manage.
When we finally calmed down and I shoved myself into the far corner of the sofa
with a growl, Mikasa smiled. “How long until you’re outta here?”
“I don’t know, an hour maybe?” I had been checking the clock nervously every
two minutes. I tried to sound nonchalant and probably failed. “Why?”
She shrugged. “We were gonna smoke a bowl, wondered if you wanted in on that.”
I blinked at her several times. Mikasa’s face hardened in an odd way and her
wrist went limp to match the expression. “Don’t you get judgey with me, Eren.”
“I’ve never—“
“Trust me, I know. That’s why I was asking.”
I must have pulled a pretty condemning face as I pointed at her. “How long have
you been—“
“Since I’ve been hanging out with Annie. Does it matter?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Oh, so I can beat asses and fuck people but I can’t smoke a little weed, I see
how it is.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“You implied it.”
“Mikasa, I don’t care what you do!” I threw my hands up. It was a lie. “But,
like… drugs…”
“…are awesome.” She finished for me.
I had to admit, I differed from her on that one. Granted, I’d never even gone
so far as to take four Tylenol with a raging headache, I was so careful about
things like that. I didn’t know enough about the difference between what Mikasa
was doing and what Levi had spoken so cryptically about. I wanted to stay
careful. That’s another one of those fine lines with being poor; when you tip
the scales from being careful about everything, you tend to go all in on being
reckless. I wanted to preserve what control I had over my life, and so I
excused myself before Annie even showed up.
At least, I tried to. Mikasa grabbed my hand, and even as I snatched it away I
hesitated to listen to what she had to say. “I kissed her,” she admitted.
My breath caught in my throat. “You what?”
“We…” She looked away like it was the first thing in her life that had ever
caused her a moment of self-consciousness. “We sort of made out.”
I looked all around, worried more than ever to face Annie at that point. “I
don’t get it, are you happy about that?”
“Wow! I don’t—“ She shrugged grandly. “I’m telling you because I have no idea!
I don’t even know what’s going on, but I like her more than most people.”
“I was just kidding about you being a lesbian, you know.”
“Yeah, I know that! And I don’t think I am! I don’t even think she is – I mean,
she said you were cute. But…” Her shoulders fell, indicating that she didn’t
want to try and explain herself any further. “I just made a pact with myself to
let you know who I like, so there it is. I’m not like you – I can’t figure
things like this out in a day.”
“Maybe…” I muttered toward the wall. We weren’t looking at each other. “I mean,
maybe that’s why you’re both trying it. Because you like each other. Maybe you
don’t need to figure it out, really. Maybe it’s just something that seems right
for now.”
She was silent and I thought I’d said the wrong thing, until I glanced over and
saw Mikasa’s face in profile start to nod. “Thanks,” she said, and shrugged
again, throwing me a wan smile with her hair in the way. “So you’re gonna go
out?”
“Yup.” I didn’t say I was getting hand-me-downs from a guy who looked like he
probably had to shop at Gadzook’s for clothes that fit. I wasn’t even entirely
convinced that’s why Levi had invited me over. I hoped that wasn’t why, at
least. I wanted us to go out of our way to find stupid reasons to continue on
the morning’s train of thought and action.
“Wrap it up!” She called after me, just barely obscuring her laughter once I’d
already disappeared into the hallway. I didn’t have the energy to tell her that
wasn’t exactly where things were headed. Not just yet.
Annie hadn’t even arrived by the time I left. I picked up the phone no less
than three times, tempted to give Levi a call to announce that I was on the
way. Finally, I decided against it, and just hopped in the car. Wanting to seem
casual, but not wanting to waste gas, I got a drink from the McDonald’s drive
thru and sat in the parking lot until 9:30 before I continued on the way to his
apartment.
I got lost once, when I took the wrong turn off of 2nd Court and ended up in a
suburb I barely managed to find my way back out of. By the time I finally
pulled into the complex, it was past 10:00. I couldn’t say I’d managed not to
waste gas, but I would certainly seem casual.
I could hear music playing through the door when I knocked. I couldn’t identify
it, much like most of the music Levi played when we were together, but it was
moody and it was bassy. I was going to use that as a launching pad for my
conversation, but then Levi opened the door.
“I thought you weren’t going to show up,” he said, seeming neither disappointed
nor pleased with my presence. I couldn’t fathom how he was speaking so
indifferently. He was standing in front of me wearing practically nothing,
which didn’t surprise me as much as what he was wearing.  
The sheer black stockings went up to mid-thigh, held up by a matching garter
belt that sat just above his belly-button. I tried not to stare, but couldn’t
resist examining whether his underwear were, indeed, black satin panties. When
he turned around to walk back inside, my suspicions were confirmed.
You may recall my fascination with staring at asses, after all. His was, in a
nutshell (and in those panties), a work of art.
Red patent leather pumps with cruelly pointed toes completed the picture, and I
walked over the threshold by force of will and nothing more. “I bought chairs,”
Levi mentioned, like it was the most important thing to apprise me of. “I
needed a sewing table, so I just got the whole set. At Goodwill, of course, but
hey, it’s a start.”
“I’m sorry,” I started, sounding far more contentious than I meant to. “Am I
not supposed to be thrown off by how you’re dressed right now?”
He stopped walking away and turned back to me at an angle. Whether or not his
pose was intentional, the way he stuck out a hip and put his weight onto one
foot, it did the trick. “No, I’m sorry. Was I ever unclear about the fact that
I dress in women’s clothing for a living?”
I was still having a bit of trouble breathing. My eyes kept wandering back to
his hips, back to his ass in those panties. Before I could form an adequate
reply, he went on. “I’m working on the finishing touches to my new look. It’s a
process, after all.” He turned toward me, completely aware that his body had me
in its thrall. “I didn’t even get a chance to put my titties on.”
“I—“ I was through with being discreet about staring at his junk, and allowed
my eyes to latch on unapologetically. “I could swear you had less going on
downstairs the last time I saw you like this.”
“Awww, you were looking up my skirt. Good boy.” He brought his hands down
gracefully until they framed his crotch in a way that was quite unfair. “Get a
good look. The transformation isn’t complete this time.”
“What?” I took the opportunity to look confused; anything to tear my eyes away,
to give me something else to focus on before I lost all hope of behaving.
“When I’m doing costume runs at home I normally elect notto tuck my balls into
my ass.”
I just blinked a few times.
He added, “Duct tape helps. Depends on my mood, whether I can get away with a
natural tuck. Depends on the tightness of the dress. Depends on my dedication.
I know queens packing far more than I am who manage to look like Niki Taylor on
the cover of Sports Illustrated, so there’s an expectation to uphold.”
“That’s how you do it?” My face contorted into a cringing, withering mess, and
Levi just laughed. I held my legs a little tighter together.
“Yes, but sometimes I get lazy, if the outfit permits it.”
I wandered into the living room at last, taking stock of the thrift store table
and its matching chairs. A sewing machine was set up, but scissors and scraps
of fabric were the only indications of work being done. “Where’s the dress?” I
tried to stay casual about the fact that I could have tacked his image over my
bed where my black light poster had been. Luckily, talk of manhandling
testicles had killed my boner for the moment.
“Tumbling in the dryer right now. Mission accomplished, for the most part.”
I sat down in one of the chairs while he walked over to turn the stereo down
before heading into the kitchen. He picked up a cigarette at the counter and
tapped it against his case. “If you ever want a cigarette, by the way, let me
know. I don’t assume you do, but there’s the offer.”         
“No, I’m fine.”
I just watched while he blew out smoke and flipped his bangs into place with a
quick toss of his head. Seeing him do that had become something I expected,
something I looked forward to. Did I really know him well enough, I let my mind
wander, to look forward to his habits and quirks?
“Why did you start dressing in drag?” I finally asked, because it was something
I legitimately wondered. I also wanted to hear him talk; about anything,
really. I recognized the band on the stereo at last: it was Concrete Blonde.
Mikasa had the same album.
“Because I always thought I’d look better as a girl,” he answered almost
immediately, fussing with something on the counter and not looking back at me.
Like he was used to the question, or at least had answered it for himself
enough times that it didn’t take much consideration. “Growing up was shitty
because I was short and hippy and wanted to get fucked like a girl, so I
figured ‘why not just dress like a girl?’At first it was because I sort of
wanted to disappear, and not have people look at me as much – like, it was this
compulsion to fit inby being a girl. But I never got the nerve to go out in
public like that. I was doing it before I even knew it was a thing, that there
were other people like me. It was just my secret for a while, and then my first
real boyfriend suggested I do drag. I was like ‘what’s that?’and when he
explained it, I was overjoyed. Because I was already doing that, basically,
standing in front of the mirror and pretending I was Bette Midler or Gloria
Estefan. So… yeah. That’s it. The rest is history.”
It took me some time to process that I’d learned more about him in that minute
of explanation than I’d ever expected to. Revelations were coming at the
strangest times. “That’s really cool,” I said, for lack of anything more
profound to say.
He stayed between me and the kitchen, leaning against a wall as he was wont to
do, smoking his cigarette. There was comfort in the silence, and when he spoke
it wasn’t simply to fill a gap. “When I’m Tirne I can usually forget about all
those insecurities, you know? Like having to ask what you like about me,
bullshit like that. When I’m her, I don’t care, because I know I look good. She
has her own story, too. Her own background. Her own personality. I smile when
I’m her, I flirt better, I'm less of an asshole.” 
I’d accused Jean of wearing a costume to hide in plain sight, of putting on the
face of what felt right for his own survival. I’d criticized him for it, like
it was a bad thing, and suddenly I realized how wrong it was. Just because I’d
never felt that need didn’t mean the costume and the truth were mutually
exclusive presentations.
“I’ve told you a lot of things about myself,” he said, with no particular need
for me to reciprocate the statement. It was simply what it was. He was cutting
the fact out and tacking it up, making it known that this was something he
hadn’t expected to do.
“I’d like to know more about her, too.”
Levi looked over at me with a strangely surprised look; stripped-down, like he
couldn’t believe I’d said it. It was disarming, to catch him off guard and see
his eyes so accusing in that tenderness, like ‘how dare you say the right
thing?’ “Okay.” He paused and nodded, glancing away again. “Next time I am her,
okay.”
I knew, without knowing,exactly, that I would have to learn two very different
parts of the same person in order to find my footing, in order to gain his
respect. I didn’t have time to congratulate myself on cracking that code,
though, because my mouth started moving before I had time to check my thoughts.
Again. “Who are you now, then?”
Levi was silent at that, and if anything I expected a reprimand. Without the
resolve to stare him down after asking one of my trademark potentially stupid
questions, I just laced my fingers together between my knees and pretended to
crack my knuckles.
I looked up when I heard Levi walking into the living room. Every step made his
hips swing like a pendulum. He got closer and I leaned back into my chair; the
cheap wood creaked under my shifting weight. I tore my eyes away from his body,
however reluctantly, and watched his eyes as he stopped in front of the chair
and lifted one foot to wedge his high heel onto the seat next to my thigh.
“Who do you think?”
His expectation didn’t need clarification, but he gave it regardless. He knew I
didn’t tend to answer his rhetorical questions. The fact that he’d practically
shoved his crotch into my face must have been enough. “Lullaby” was playing
softly on his stereo.
“Touch me,” he said, speaking down at me around the cigarette in his mouth.
“I—“ I wanted to say that I wasn’t sure how, but stopped myself when I realized
how infantile that sounded.
“Wherever you want. If you even want to.” He held his cigarette aside and let
the smoke curl up from the end, its deliberate slowness matching the patience
of his posture. “I’ve been horny since I blew you this morning, and I’m not
going to lie about how much I want you to want to.”
Of course I wanted to.
I lifted one hand and held the tip of my tongue unconsciously between my lips
in concentration. I hesitated for a split-second above his thigh, and then
slipped my fingers around it, feeling the slick warmth of the stockings tight
against his skin. Captivated by the smoothness that was almost slippery beneath
my palm, I rubbed there and moved lower, biting my lip as I felt him from calf
to knee and back again. My thumb nearly touched my middle finger at the
slimmest part of his ankle, but I could still feel the muscles rock solid
beneath every curve of his legs, especially in his thighs. I let my other hand
join in on the opposite leg. Levi’s breath slowed, got more deliberate.
He glanced away at one point, like he was almost bored by the situation, and I
can’t say why that sent the most potent jolt of arousal through me. His
disinterested face, while my hands curled in toward the hot juncture of his
inner thighs, was almost a challenge. I looked straight ahead, down just
slightly. His erection was pulling the black satin panties away from his skin,
but my hands had other areas of interest to attend to first.
I shocked myself when I let out a muted whine as I cupped my hands around his
satin-covered ass, and Levi matched it with an approving grunt. I squeezed and
his hips lifted toward me slightly. Maybe I shouldn’t have been stunned by the
fact that his ass wasn’t pure muscle like the rest of him, but its softness was
still unexpected
“Talk to me,” he said suddenly.
“You didn’t talk to me,” I mentioned, just to be a brat, and slid two fingers
beneath the fabric to stroke the pronounced curve between his thigh and his
ass.
“Oh, I’m sorry, was I too busy swallowing your come? Please forgive me.” He put
a stopper on the sarcasm quickly enough, though, and tilted his hips up toward
me once more. I was starting to get the hint, but it was incredible to see him
squirm a little. He knew it, too. Something told me he was playing right into
it, and I’d never been so happy to be manipulated.
I still didn’t know what to say, so I just wrapped my hand around his cock,
pulling the soft fabric taut around the tip as I did. “Jesus,” he hissed, and
tossed his head back for a moment. “I’m really glad I didn’t tuck.”
It was strange, how I didn’t especially want to get him naked. The lingerie was
part of the appeal, to be honest, and it gave me something of a crutch while my
mind went off the rails on how to go about my first handjob. I looked up and
watched Levi smoke while I stroked him.
After a few passes from my hand the fabric was moist when I swiped my thumb
over the head. At that, Levi left the cigarette between his lips and grabbed my
shoulder with one hand. He squeezed hard, using the move to brace himself as he
swayed a bit. “Shit, that’s good.”
I was still looking at his face. Sensing my attention, perhaps, he blinked down
to meet my eyes. “What’s on your mind? Wondering how that’s going to fit inside
of you?” He smirked.
I spread my legs as much as I could to give myself more room to grow, as it
were. The mere suggestion had me a mess of emotions and compulsions, wondering
if he meant to take it that far tonight. I hadn’t even showered that morning. I
didn’t really want it to happen under current conditions, at the same time that
I sincerely did.
“Nothing. I’m not really… Not really thinking. I just want to concentrate. Is
it really good?”
“It’s really good,” he assured me. “Wanna know what I’m thinking?”
I nodded.
“I’ll bet you can fuck all night.”
I took a deep breath and hooked my fingers around the elastic of the panties,
pulled them aside to take his cock out. I let him keep talking as I stared at
it, tightened my hand around it, came to terms with the fact that my first
instinct upon seeing it was a strange sort of hunger. “Not at first, of course,
but once you’ve got a taste for cock I’ll bet you’d let me take you from room
to room and just keep pounding away.” I wasn’t even aware of his hand until it
brushed through the longer hair on the side of my face and down to my chin. I
actually gasped at that. I knew he wanted to feel how hot my skin was getting.
“I can see it. I’ve got a good sense for people and I can already see you’re an
insatiable little whore.”
“I—“ The excitement I felt was on par with how scared I was, to be honest. I
had no idea what was going to happen next, and Armin had been absolutely right.
I had no idea what to do with a cock that wasn’t my own, even though it was
right there. “What do you want me to do?”
“I saw you licking your lips.” Had I really done that? How embarrassing. “I
think you know.”
Swallowing hard, I prayed to whatever god would listen before I pressed my
mouth to the tip of Levi’s cock and opened wide. The smell of hot sex took its
time before it became apparent to me; once I flattened my tongue to lick him, I
was fully aware of his scent and the leap of faith I’d taken.
He didn’t give me instruction, which drove me mad with worry as much as it made
my ego run away with itself. With no idea whether I was doing things the right
way, I just tried to imitate every blowjob I’d seen in porno, finding it much
more difficult in practice than it had ever been in theory (though I’d only had
a couple of weeks to even consider theory).
His cock was thicker than mine, but in the silence of evaluation I realized
that I was probably bigger than he was, all things considered. It didn’t
matter, though. Armin had been right about perspective; Levi seemed massive
when I tried to fit my lips to the bottom of the shaft, just barely managing on
pure determination until my nose touched his finely groomed pubic hair.
Mercifully, he didn’t thrust up into my mouth the way I had into his. He did,
however, let out an unexpected whisper of, “Jesus fucking Christ, that’s
right.”
My ego bounced off the wall and spiked at the raw sound of his desire, and I
sucked back on Levi’s cock with a renewed sense of purpose. His fingers
tightened on my shoulder and I felt him bending over me by degrees. I held back
my gag reflex as much as possible, pushing myself until I felt tears of sheer
exertion pricking my eyes while I repeated the move again, again, and one more
time.
On the fourth pass my composure broke, my gag reflex followed the twitch of
reaction, and I pulled back from him with a loud retching sound. I wiped at my
mouth and kept from looking at Levi, mumbling only “Sorry…” as I heard him
chuckling.
His hand moved up to rub below the hair on the back of my neck, just tenderly
enough to be reassuring, just possessively enough to make me moan. “It’s okay,”
he assured me, voice low and even and utterly sensual. “Being greedy is a good
thing.”
I looked at his cock, shiny with saliva and tight with expectation. After a
deep breath, I put my mouth back on him. “Why don’t you finish me up with your
hand?” He suggested after I gave two firm sucks to the head.
Catching my breath, I just looked up at him. He’d finished his cigarette and
had extinguished it somewhere. Probably the table. I didn’t take the time to
check. His fingers smelled like cloves and smoke when he reached down to trace
the line of my lips with one finger. “You’re going to want to work up to
certain things.”
I kept my eyes on his and hoped he wouldn’t look away when I wrapped my hand
around his cock and started pumping. He didn’t. His beautiful face showed only
minute reactions, but they were so plain I was able to preserve them quite
clearly for my memories (very specific memories, to be dredged up only at the
most appropriate times and never in the middle of math class on a boring
Thursday, of course).
Levi’s eyes closed after a minute or two and he bared his teeth, twitching like
needles were stabbing him. “Fuck,” he breathed, and I didn’t dare move, didn’t
dare change a thing, slow my stroke, tighten my grip, anything. “Fuck!” He
repeated, and his face softened instantly. I was so captivated by the
expression that I was largely unconcerned to feel him shoot hot on my arm, on
my shirt. I glanced down once, while he was still spurting onto the floor
between us, and went momentarily breathless.
The sound of him panting was music to my ears, despite how keyed up I was over
what he expected from the remainder of the night. When he spoke again, he
sounded almost exactly as he had the night he returned from being fucked stupid
at the bar, the night he kicked my sexual confusion into high gear. I relished
being the reason for it, at last.
“I’ve underestimated the power of a good handjob for a long time,” he said,
straightening up, running fingers over his abdomen. He was still breathing hard
when he added, almost cheerily, “Thanks.”
“Um, no problem,” I said, looking down at my arm at what he’d left behind.
He followed my line of sight. “Well,” he breathed hard once more, like he’d
just been through a workout. “Good thing I wanted to give you some clothes
anyway.”
“Ha.” I didn’t know what the protocol was. Did I wipe it off? Did I casually
act like it wasn’t there? Did I do what I wanted to do, and just taste it, just
a little, just to see what it was like?
I didn’t have much time to contemplate. Before I knew it, Levi lifted his foot
from my side, and in a swift motion he moved it between my legs. Directly
between my legs. As in, right on my cock. I flattened against the back of the
chair and held my breath, fear returning all at once. Even after I realized
that I wasn’t in any particular danger, per se, the conflicting arousal was
still doing a number on my nerves.
Though I wanted very badly to ask Levi what the hell he was doing, I couldn’t
say anything when I looked up at him. Face giving not even an ounce of his
intention away, he pressed the sole of his shoe hard against my erection, and I
moaned desperately.
“Move,” he said simply.
I wasn’t sure I could, but I just nodded and forced my hips to squirm as much
as they could. The friction was all I could process, and my power against it
was all I could focus on. I started to move more intently, throwing out labored
breaths, tightening my fingers under the seat of the chair just to keep myself
in the proverbial saddle. I managed an angle that had the weight of his foot
resting just over the crucially sensitive ridge at the tip of my cock, and I
felt myself go light-headed with how quickly all rational thought left my
brain.
“Now you tell me,” he said. “What should I do?”
“I don’t—“
“If you don’t tell me what you want me to do to you, I’m not going to do
anything!” He snapped. “Be a fucking man.”
The tone made me yelp, his volume made me buck against him harder, and
everything combined and made me cry out the first thing on my mind. “Suck it
again!” I cried out desperately.
And he did. Oh, he very much did. He pulled my pants off before kneeling in
front of the chair and going to work, and I managed to hold myself back just
slightly more than I had earlier that morning. I had time to actually feelit,
to do more than just react to him. Expecting things made a big difference, as
did being able to stare down at him from my vantage point, to see Levi’s knees
bent and his stocking legs situated between me, red heels crowning the picture…
I wondered if he actually enjoyedit, he was so enthusiastic to repeat the
scenario.  
I was instructed to wash up in the bathroom, and when I returned in my boxer
shorts with my dirty clothes in hand, Levi threw a small bag onto the floor
next to me. “There you go. There’s a few t-shirts in there, mostly band shirts
that are too big for me. You might not look good in them either, but I’m also
pawning off a pair of black jeans that make my ass look awful.”
I decided to try my luck at saying something witty. “I don’t think that’s
possible.” He turned back just long enough to show he acknowledge the remark.
“Thanks for the clothes.”
“You need to stop dressing like it’s still 1989. You need to be a little cooler
than that.”
Levi had pulled a button-up shirt on over his stockings and panties. I wanted
to express my amazement at the fact that he even owned a plain button-up shirt,
but then I remembered that everyone, no matter what socioeconomic background
they came from, had one good “dress up” outfit in his or her clothing arsenal.
I breathed deeply and admired the way it completed the look. The hem fell just
above the line of his ass, and with the panties creeping naturally between his
cheeks the result was enough to fool my body for a few moments into thinking it
was ready to go again.
He had a fold-up ironing board out and was standing in front of it, working on
pressing the sparkly silver dress that had just come out of the dryer. I
watched in silent fascination the way he placed a dish towel between the iron
and the fabric before each meticulous press.
Being there felt comfortable, I realized. Just sitting in silence, the way I
did at Armin’s or at home. The CD had finished and he had the radio on. It was
my favorite station, the one that Armin and I would always call to request the
same songs. The late night DJs even knew us by voice. I was silently pleased
that Levi liked the station as well, I felt such a personal connection with it.
 
“I like this song,” I mentioned. It was the Cranberries.
“They’re a good band. This song really doesn’t show how angry they actually
are. I have their tape, I should copy it for you.”
“That would be cool.”
You sound hopeful, I remembered Armin saying, and I believed him so completely
that I was ready to throw caution to the wind.
“Do you—“ I started, and then knew I would be defeated before I even allowed
myself to finish the statement. I shook my head and forgot about it, but Levi
wasn’t going to let it go that easy. One more verse of the song played before
he prompted me to continue.
“Do you want…“ I sighed loudly, shaking my head to indicate that I already knew
it was a hopeless question. “You know, do you want to date? For real? Forget
it, that’s stupid.”
He folded the dish towel with swift, exacting movements, and kept his eyes
darkly on me as he did. I felt the world narrow to a pinhole through which I
could only see him glare at me before turning around to examine the seams on
his dress. My vocal cords wouldn’t work. I was paralyzed.
“Why do you know that’s stupid?” He asked me at last, after that song ended and
another I recognized – They Might Be Giants, “Snailshell” – began playing.
Oh, I was being asked to voice all of my worst fears. Lovely. “Because I’m a
minor. Because you don’t want that sort of thing. Because you don’t want
anything complicated.” I paused. I already knew better than to say it. But I
did. “Because you’re in love with someone else.”
He listened to the laundry list of reasons calmly until that very last one, at
which point he turned around with quick, military precision. I saw the subtle
way he drew up to his full height; small in stature though Levi was, he struck
an intimidating posture when he put his whole body into it. Even half-dressed
in lingerie. His jaw moved back and forth as he let it settle into thinking
through his words, and once he cleared his throat I knew better than to say a
word. I looked away when Levi started to walk toward me.
The other chair made barely a sound against the carpet as he pulled it over
with one foot to sit down next to me. Looking at the floor, I noticed that he’d
already cleaned the spot where he’d come on the carpet. Was that symbolic or
had I confused what our teacher told us symbolism was?
“One, this is already complicated. It’s complicated whether or not we want it
to be, because mouths have touched dicks and that’s very rarely a
casualsituation. Second, don’t assume what I don’t want just because you’re
trying to feel sorry for yourself. Third, yes. You’re a minor; corollary to
number one, things already being complicated. And that’s the reason. That’s the
reason right there. You could have left it at that, but you didn’t. You kept
going, and shot your stupid fucking mouth off.” There was a fourth. I was
bracing myself. “And finally, shut the fuck up about what you don’t understand.
Just shut – the – fuck – up.”    
It wasn’t the way he’d first told me to shut the fuck up, when he didn’t know
me and he was nothing more than the first adult who’d ever treated me like an
equal in the backtalk department. Everything had been different when we first
met, before we traded stories and shared identities. With a history, however
brief, between us, the words were so much more. I’d fucked up, and I knew it,
but there was no taking it back. Still, I hadn’t expected him to be quite so
upset.
For the first time in my life, I felt the most awful feeling in the pit of my
stomach, in a place nothing could salve.
“I’m sorry,” I offered. I couldn’t have sounded sincere. I was full of too many
other emotions. I didn’t yet know how to give apologies time for reflection
before handing them out; I just knew they were band-aids, quick ways to fix
misunderstandings. All of my misunderstandings had been nothing until now,
though.
Levi shook his head and stood up, scratching the back of his head as he did.
“There’s a tape in the bag, too. I made you a stupid mixtape, but take that
with a grain of salt now.”
I was weak in the knees. I couldn’t be expected to stand. I had no idea what to
do if he told me to leave and never come back. I was so close to crying I could
barely function. He’d already told me to be a fucking man, and I was still
going by that order. “Please don’t be mad at me,” I said, as meekly as I’d ever
said anything.
“I’m just disappointed. Because I might have said yes if you hadn’t just gone
off and assumed everything.”
He picked the dress up carefully from the ironing board and walked into his
bedroom, avoiding my eyes as they followed him. He shut the door. He didn’t
come back out. I sat there with my heartbeat drowning out the music, wondering
what to do. The sinking feeling settled deeper in my stomach and, as everyone
who has ever fucked up must, I realized my crucial mistake in letting another
person become the only thing I was looking forward to every day for.    
I made my way out shamefully, wondering if he would be right back out to lock
the door behind me, wondering if I could manage to throw the door open then and
shoehorn my apology in amidst the struggle. My hands reached into the bag and
shakily pulled out the tape he’d made me. The songs were hand written on the
label, but I only looked long enough to be saddened by the sight of Levi’s
handwriting. I pushed the tape into the deck, because I felt the masochistic
urge to dig the knife further into the wound.
I expected something grungy, something dark, something utterly gothic and
utterly Levi.In a way, it was. But instead of Depeche Mode or Bauhaus, the song
that started playing was, true to his teen years in the 80’s, Heart.
“Oh, no,” I groaned immediately, because I knew the song.
Until the second verse, I managed a stoic silence. I had to stop a little
longer at the intersections just to remember which direction to turn, which
kept me focused enough not to think about it too much. At first. My hands were
shaky on the wheel. I couldn’t tell whether I was angry at him or angry at
myself. I let the song play out like an unspoken confession, and my lips moved
along with the words on pure instinct: “I never really cared until I met you.”
Knowing Levi’s intelligence made me take it seriously. He was smart, and he was
artistic. This wasn’t just a stupid mixtape. The simple fact he’d said that was
telling enough. I felt the full impact right after Ann Wilson sang “and I was
going to tell you tonight.”
At the next red light I put my face into my hands to muffle a cathartic scream.
               
***** Chapter 12 *****
Chapter Notes
     Another chapter from Levi's POV.
     It's heavy on the Levi/Erwin. In fact it's pretty much Levi/Erwin,
     that's it, that's the chapter. I wish I could say I'm sorry but hey,
     all roads lead to why we're all here, so *dying whale noise* Also wow
     these two and their angst sort of hit me like a scimitar to the groin
     (that's why you're here, folks; turns of phrase like that).
     So, let's review what we've learned in the past week: please don't
     spam pairing tags on Tumblr with talk of or reactions to the fic (I'm
     not even posting it under pairing tags anymore), and the "official"
     (??? flails???) tag is "fic: 1994"
     KEEP READING LOVELIES, the story is still going strong!! --ollies
     out--
I bought and smoked a pack of cigarettes within six hours following Eren’s
departure. They were efficacious in keeping me in the stew of a bad mood, too
strong for my liking but a perfect match for the bottle of Wild Turkey I seemed
intent on killing before the sun even rose. Thank Christ I was off for the day,
but the dread of returning to work settled in my stomach like lead. Work was
too close to where he lived. There were too many thoughts. There were always
too many thoughts. I considered, for not the first time as I stroked the neck
of the bottle like a lover, about selling everything I had, using the money for
gas, and taking off across the country with no destination.
It was the whim of an eighteen-year-old under the influence of too much
Kerouac, I realized with a sneer, sitting cross-legged in a chair in front of
my open living room window. I’d outgrown those desires and I just needed to
render myself inebriated enough that I couldn’t even make it down the stairs,
much less act on them. I didn’t want the complex uncertainty of living every
day in a different city, dependent on strangers and my own survivalism. I
disliked people too much to be successful at that. I just wanted to turn back
the clock and stop myself from being upset at someone who had no idea what he
was saying. Further than that, though, keep going back; I wanted to never have
entertained the thought of falling for him in the first place. It pissed me
off. It made me scowl at the moon and wonder what he had that I really, truly,
potentially wanted. I could live without his naivete and his tendency to talk
back, his hesitant, emotional approach to sex, his utter lack of self-
awareness. I just didn’t want to. Because despite all of it, he’d proven a fit.
He was a pair of shoes too ugly to exist that somehow looked perfect, almost
embarrassingly so, once they were actually on. To stretch the metaphor, they
were also (he was also?) too expensive, but perhaps too good to pass up. Either
way it would be a decision I resented, no matter which decision it was.
I watched the sun rise from the same window in front of which I’d been parked
for a good five hours. About four fingers of whiskey were still sloshing around
in the bottle when I dragged myself to the shower and scrubbed the stink of
cigarette smoke from my body in disgust. Birds were chirping outside,
threatening to keep me awake. They were no match for Joy Division, which was
the perfect accompaniment as I fell asleep on contact with my mattress.
Trying not to be a depressive little sonofabitch who eschewed sunlight was one
of those things I’d settled on attempting since Erwin took a chance at taming
me, and so with great effort I opened my eyes around noon despite a throbbing
headache and a once quite familiar voice in my head repeating over and over
that I shouldn’t bother getting out of bed. I picked up on the distinctive
patter of rain on my bedroom window. The sad romance of that was not lost on me
in the slightest, and I enjoyed it wistfully until I realized I had never
closed the window in the living room. It got me on my feet, at least. After
applying towels to the soggy patch of carpet, I massaged my temples and thought
about the day. I had work to do if I wanted to be ready for my show tomorrow
night, so I resolved to forget about Eren until sad romantic fate decreed we
cross paths again, and set about my tasks.
By 3:00 there was nothing left to do unless I wanted to finish the rest of the
bottle, pass out on my laurels, and take five aspirin before my shift started
in twenty hours. Idle hands always made the devil’s work for me, true to the
phrase, but then I usually made little else. I just made more of it when left
to wandering thoughts and festering confusion. There was a phone in one of my
idle hands. I made a solemn bargain with myself to at least see if there was
anyone on the other line before I drowned my sorrows further.    
It was pure adrenaline that had me dialing the number, holding the phone to my
ear, listening to my pulse rabbit in my throat as it rang.
There was an answer on the third ring. “Hello?”
I considered not responding. Everything else subsided and my thoughts became so
sharply focused that I couldn’t be begged to think of Eren. How to start the
conversation, though? That was the question.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
Tactful, I never had been. I never had reason to be.
An agonizing pause followed, punctuated by the sound of shifting posture on the
other line. I let my eyes close slowly, hating myself for it because I could
practically see him, I could practically smell him. “Out of town, for a few
days. Trying to catch up on things since I got back.”
He didn’t ask why I was asking, because he knew very well. Something about his
tone suggested also that he was holding back, not telling me the proper story.
I realized that I had no idea where to go with my words from there. So I just
sighed.
Words were ineffective for both of us; he was only tactful when he had reason,
and he never had one around me. “Do you want me to come over?” He asked.
“Yes,” I replied gruffly, putting a firm point on it before hanging up the
phone because that was that, there was nothing else to say.
I took a deep breath once that ordeal was over, unsure what I was thinking but
sure I would develop a plan of action once I saw Erwin’s face again. A generous
swig of whiskey to rally my courage, and I decided to make myself presentable.
I took another shower for good measure, sure that the stench of cigarettes was
still clinging to me even after the first. It was ridiculous that I even
smoked; I couldn’t stand the smell, the nicotine residue, the thought that I
was spending so much money on something so impermanent when I could get a much
stronger, longer-lasting sense of focus for not much more. Though, with uppers
and cocaine out of my picture, I let cigarettes keep my hands from being idle,
and found nicotine a pleasant substitute to calm my occasional nerves and keep
me from fidgeting. It was a compromise I’d reached with Erwin, as a matter of
fact. Still, I hated to think that he smelled it on me when he kissed my neck.
In lieu of anything potentially more formal (an admittedly obnoxious attempt at
seeming casual, that), I slipped on a pair of boxer briefs and the button-up
I’d been wearing to impress Eren the night before. If I couldn’t get the boy’s
attention, I could at least get the man’s.
A satisfied smirk, something close to triumph, tugged at my lips when he
knocked on the door less than an hour later. My own intentions were unclear
beyond a gratifying way to spend a few hours, so I had no idea why I was so
pleased at having him so obviously – but only occasionally – wrapped around my
finger.   
We hadn’t seen each other since the bar. We’d made transactions for the
supposed benefit of my future via telephone and in daylight meetings, but
getting him alone, on my territory without prying eyes, was something I’d been
too confused to orchestrate in well over a month. I wasn’t sure if I would be
different. I wasn’t sure if he would be different. I swatted Eren’s terse
little comments out of my head and opened the door, turning around immediately
without a greeting, just to let Erwin know that he wasn’t worth a formal
welcome.
I’d always been a manipulative little shit, despite not liking most people
enough to get that far into any interaction.
I turned my back to one of my new chairs, faced the door, and leaned against
it.
“Can I come in?” He sounded almost amused. I suppose he had the right to be; I
was laying on the theatrics.
“Yeah.”
How dare he look like sun-kissed Greek perfection in my doorway, in my
entryway, in my life, in my scope of vision? I narrowed my eyes and felt my
heartbeat quicken as it always did in his presence. I tried to hold it back but
realized that everything was tightening up and, as usual, my only recourse was
to throw it all at him and let him decide what to do.
He was still wearing a shirt and tie, obviously fresh from school, with the
mid-afternoon sun too hot for a jacket. His sleeves were pushed up. He was
wearing suspenders. I hated him for that more than anything else.
After locking the door carefully, and making sure that I noticed he was locking
the door, he started walking toward me, steps sort of tentative like he was
courting a wild animal. I almost smiled again, self-satisfaction spiking for
some reason or another. No matter the emotions involved, after all, having
control over people was something I never turned my nose up at.
He paused in front of me and tucked his hands calmly into his pockets, waiting
until I deigned to look up from where my eyes fell below the knot of his tie. I
didn’t give in so quickly, of course. He was just something in front of me, for
the time being. I closed the gap first by wrapping my fingers around his tie,
finding it to be silk. I’d almost hoped it wasn’t, and sighed as I pulled down
and let it slide through my fist until it was empty again.
I reached out and pushed my fingers under his suspenders, shaking my head
subtly because they were so unfair, they were so compelling, they held my
fingers taut as I traced the lines beneath them and felt the heat of his skin
and the definition of muscles otherwise hidden beneath the fabric. His
heartbeat was still disarmingly calm. I slid my hands up to his shoulders and
thought about withdrawing. Instead, I finally looked up at him as a dark
consideration clouded my mind. I tightened my fingers, letting the subtle
length of my nails dig in so he could feel them even beneath the layer of his
undershirt. “Does your wife know you’re here?” I whispered harshly, unblinking.
“No,” he answered, letting understanding flicker over his features for just a
moment before he did. Otherwise, he showed no reaction.
We were each shameless in our own way.
I pushed the suspenders off and grabbed his arms with bruising tightness. “Fuck
you,” I growled, pulling him closer, feeling my hips furl toward him despite
every other conflicting thought running through my mind. “Fuck you.”
He just put both hands on my face and leaned in to kiss me; softly at first,
despite any preconceived notion I may have had. I shuddered, realizing I had no
control over my body and would not from that point forward. Not as long as
those hands were on me, not as long as that mouth was on me.
We were pushing together in a violent kiss by the time I grabbed his tie and
twisted it in my hand, pulling him down to my level rather than rising up even
an inch. It was my one way of resisting, until he grabbed me by my thighs and
hitched me up off of my feet. I gasped into his mouth and growled harder after
that, our teeth crashing together as I threw my legs around him and felt him
hard where we collided.
I was shifted and stripped and pulled into position like a ragdoll right there.
I allowed only a fleeting moment of concern for the possibility that we might
break the table I’d just purchased; I was distracted quickly enough by the fact
that Erwin’s tongue was in my ass.
This wasn’t how love worked. This was too delirious for love, too irrational
and rabid to be anything with a definition. I had to be sure, though; or maybe
I just wanted to prove what I already knew. I didn’t actually care. I pounded
my fist on the table and choked on a cry that quickly gave way to a scream
while he prodded his fingers with slow, instinctive precision at my prostate. I
remembered what it was like, why I’d been so confused for months.
I didn’t feel anything but pleasure. It was everything I’d wanted from
disposable bullshit, with the unfortunate distinction of having a person
attached.
“Fuck me,” I begged, just a junkie desperate for a bump. So close to being a
man of means, and reduced all over again to a mess. But caring about it is
something a junkie does not do.
He leaned over me, kissed between my shoulders tenderly, and pressed his cheek
down against the same spot. “No,” he said with a tone I couldn’t identify. For
a moment I was truly frightened. “Not yet.”
I was going to argue with him, maybe let fly with my long-since-prepared litany
of condemnations, before he picked me up and carried me into the bedroom.
We said little of consequence for approximately three hours. I told him to get
naked, he asked me for preferences and assurances on this and that, and I don’t
count the fevered yelling and the dirty talk that I filed away in my memories
for future reference. Not that I could have ever forgotten the way his usually
composed voice navigated certain phrases, the way his smooth baritone marinated
words like “my fat cock” or “your tight, sweet little cunt.” I concentrated
beyond the mindless trance he put me in, regardless.
I came three times. He fell one short on purpose because he was like that. I
asked if he wanted to share a cigarette and he accepted. Naked and dripping
with sweat and what he’d left inside of me, I opened the bedroom window and
collapsed halfway over him to relax into my still-quivering recovery.
Immediately, I began stewing again. I almost swore out loud at the injustice of
that, but decided to just scowl at the wall instead.   
I was nearly finished with the cigarette, flicking into the ashtray balanced on
his perfectly chiseled abdomen when he broke the silence. “Did you know your
dad well, growing up?”
I paused and passed the cigarette back to him. “I swear to God if you’re gonna
say anything about daddy issues…”
I expected him to interrupt me, but he didn’t. I let the phrase fall off,
unfinished, unanswered. It was one of the very few times we had ever fallen off
each other’s tracks. He dragged to the filter and blew the smoke out in one
long breath. “Mine died last week,” he finally replied with disquieting
solemnity, crushing the butt into the ashtray and moving it aside. “Is why I’m
asking.”
He glanced at me only momentarily. It was rare for me to be humbled into
silence. Talking was my only defense, sometimes, because I knew I was smart
enough to maintain my fortitude even in the tensest confrontation. But on those
words, my throat closed up and I just nodded. It explained his absence, at
least. His unusual humor. It didn’t excuse anything, but it explained it.
“My dad drove a cab.” I dredged up what I felt like sharing. I opened the doors
that felt appropriate to open. “He was short. Like me. He was fat, though. He
called me a little runt.” It had been a loving nickname. To preserve a little
of my mystery, I kept that from Erwin.
“What do you think you learned from him?”
Without the ashtray to worry about, I shifted into a more comfortable position
against him and sighed, thinking it over. “One time I got stung by a wasp and
he taught me how to dress it with headache powder. How to drive. He taught me
how to cut my own hair. He was a barber in the Navy before he met my mom.”
I stopped abruptly. It was all I felt like sharing.
“Do you think he taught you anything subconsciously? How you act with people,
do you think you got any of that from him?”
I fixed my eyes on Erwin and narrowed them suspiciously. “What do you mean, how
I act with people?”
“Like that,” he clarified with half a chuckle. I just sighed, too exhausted to
even give him a playful punch to the arm.
“Probably not. My parents were decent, that’s why I don’t blame them for giving
up on me.” I paused, realizing I’d gone too far. My parents were still alive
and I referred to them in the past tense, first of all. I balanced expertly on
the precipice of the rest of me before I retreated on the topic. “What did you
learn?”
“Control.”
There were so many meanings in that word. I wondered how long his fingers had
been combing through my sweat-soaked hair.
Without needing the cue, he went on. “We were all expected to behave a certain
way, achieve certain things, persue certain goals. You controlled what you did
as much as you controlled what you didn’tdo, in my family. And it was all on
you. If you failed, it was on you. If you succeeded, the burden was yours.
Debts were repaid, grudges held. My father taught me how to get the same thing
out of others. That unquestioning obedience.”
The time wasn’t right to say how much sense it made; it went without any
particular note. I nodded again, and rolled my head back like a cat into his
hand.
“He never warned me how empty it would all feel, this far down the line. Twenty
years after I poured everything into what I could get out of people when I
graduated high school, and here I am. What I learned from my dad was,
essentially, how to mask the emptiness.”
The suggestion was implicit. He might have been a different person. The
influences of youth were, by and large, something we couldn’t choose. Erwin
masked it well. He smiled often. He stroked my hair and held me with a
sincerely gentle, protective touch until our boundaries opened like castle
gates under the influence of sex. Erwin was a kind person. He was a more timid
soul than I. But he’d been raised to know blatantly the truth of the world. I’d
followed – and was still following, probably – the road of hurt and
disappointment, searching for ideals.
He was realistic, at least. And so, like most realities, he was destined to
hurt me as well. At least I would no longer be surprised when it happened. At
least I wouldn’t wonder where it came from.
I hadn’t said a word, I realized, as I pushed my face toward his at last and
chirped at him for a reaction. We were stoic, looking at one another. We were
men like our fathers, stalwart in our roles, holding on to no illusions.
Eren took after his mother, I suddenly knew in a most bizarre twist of jarring
clarity. He must have.
“Are you trying to fix me?” I finally asked.
Erwin seemed stunned, and was stoic even in that. “You’re broken?”
It lit a fire in me that stayed dormant while I tried to maintain my composure,
my relaxation. “I’m not like you.”
He thought about this for a moment, and I watched his eyebrows knit in a subtle
way. “I can’t describe why it just hurt, to hear you put it like that.”
“What are you trying to accomplish with me? By doing this? All of this?” My
heartbeat was going crazy, my adrenaline was pumping as much as it could after
the windfall of our workout. The fire was growing. “The help, the crazy sex,
the job, the apartment, all of it.”
“Nothing.” Still unfettered. That sonofabitch. “I just like being with you. You
got the job yourself, you do it yourself. You paid for this apartment, I just
let someone run my credit. I think you’re worth something, is all.”
I drew up on my arms and leaned over his broad chest, looking down at him as
calmly as I could. “What if I got strung out again, went further, hit the
needle, got fired?”
“I’d wonder what happened.”
Stop saying the right thing. Stop being sympathetic. Get mad at me. Buck me
off.
“Would you be disappointed?” I gritted my teeth.
“I’d ask you what happened, what was so unbearable that you did that again.”
I pulled out the proverbial gun I’d been hiding behind my back and made sure he
was looking me in the eyes when I asked, “What if I told you I think I’m
falling in love?”
“Not with me, surely.”
“No.”
I paused. He wasn’t responding. He was almost flip in the way he pulsed his
eyebrows at me for a moment, knowing I wanted to go on. “It’s one of your
students.”
That pulled a modicum of something else from him, at least. But what was it? I
just wanted him to reach his end with me. I wanted Erwin Smith to denounce me.
But things are never so simple with a timid soul, especially a timid soul with
an uncanny knack for diplomacy.
“Levi…” 
“Is that tone for the statutory sodomy part, or is it sheer disbelief over me
having feelings?”
Before I could stop myself, I made it the final test. What he had to say next
would make the decision for me. Erwin made no mention of the first possibility,
and instead he adopted a truly, deeply hurt expression while he pulled a hand
up to place against my chest. “Don’t even play with the suggestion that I don’t
think what you feel matters, or that I don’t consider it. Is that how low you
regard me? Is that how low you think I regard you?”
I snapped; the fire bubbled up and over. I pulled his hand away by the wrist
and set my jaw firmly. “Am I supposed to apologize? Am I supposed to actually
believe that, after you never told me you were married?”
I should have known he’d have a statement prepared. “You were supposed to be
easy.” It hit like a slug to the chest, but it was so simple to read as true,
so simple to apply as the only possible explanation, that I almost nodded in
agreement. “I saw you and I thought I’d fuck something beautiful and get it out
of my system and call it a night. I’ve done it before. Just try to think about
being in the closet. Try to put yourself in that position, for even a moment.
You weren’t special when I met you, when I saw you. It’s not like I targetedyou
to this end. You were the one who asked for help first. You were the one who
opened your mouth. Then you showed me who you were and I fell for you, and that
was mymistake. I’m not sorry for it, though. Because guess what? I like what
we’ve had! Fucked up though it’s been, I’ve attached a lot to this as well. I’m
upset that you’ve got someone else, to be honest. But at the same time I’m
happy. It’s set up well for both of us to stop this. It’s good for me. It’s
good for you.”
He could have stopped there, and I could have been angry at him, but he didn’t.
“You’re grown and you’re smart. You have some momentum. Don’t waste it.”
“What if I want to waste it?” I still wanted to feel his body against mine. I
still didn’t want to leave. It was a confrontation, yes, but it was still as
intimate as anything we’d shared. “What if my choice, in my life, is to die in
an alley?”
He grabbed me by the neck. He pulled me down. I opened my lips on contact with
his and we writhed together in a combined geyser of vitriol, until I was
straddling him and had my talons in his arms, considering everything he’d said,
considering that this was the end, no matter what else we said.
“Guilt,” he seethed against my mouth like he knew what he was talking about.
More than I wanted to explore, at that moment. Which meant ever. “Guilt is a
powerful motivation.”
“But you—“
“Not me! Don’t live for me! God knows I want to keep fucking you forever and
have this be recreation, but this is eating away at my life, too. I want you to
be here and as cliché as it sounds I want you to be my friend!” Even he rolled
his eyes at that, knowing I would reject it simply because of the sound of it.
“I want to be able to give you things I have, because those things are mine to
give. You can reject it at any time. Any time. But even if you keep accepting
me, I don’t want that to translate to having a whore.”
My mouth was already open on a response, but I lost whatever I’d been planning
to say.
That stung.
“You were thinking it,” he chuntered, blue eyes clouded a little by
frustration.
“I actually was.”
“I never wanted you to think it was like that.”
My eyes closed heavily and I tilted my chin up, trying to hold my composure
even as I felt a tear, then a couple more, slipping free. He reached up to wipe
them away. In what I couldn’t help but treat as a symbolic decision, I let him.
When my composure finally broke, I took a sobbing breath and lowered myself
onto his chest. One fist balled and I struck him there, harder than I’d been
expecting for something intended to be a gesture. He grunted at the impact but
didn’t say a word. His hands slid around my waist and I still felt safe. I was
angrier than I’d ever been because I still felt safe.
“You were supposed to be the one.” I struggled to start speaking, and when I
did I knew I wouldn’t stop easily. “I met you and felt things you’re only
supposed to feel when it’s right. Butterflies, fate, the whole chemical pull
toward another person, and that’s got me all fucked up, to the point people
notice it. I’m crazy over you and it pisses me off! I am so madright now!” I
was wheezing through my nose, speaking through clenched teeth again. “Because I
don’t love you! I’ve come to that conclusion, but it doesn’t make it easier. I
don’t know how to deal with this, and now you’re just lying here, still being
right. Everything you say is perfect, even when you piss me off. Everything you
do feels like it was meant for me. You fuck like a god, you look like a movie
star, you’re rich, you’re smart. What the fuck?” And that was it. I’d exhausted
my emotional savings. I sucked in a deep breath and realized I was spent. “What
the fuck is wrong with us?” I asked more pointedly, breathless for all my
confusion.
“My parents had the money to put me through Brown. I inherited money. I only
fuck like this with you. My wife thinks I’m distant. Even when I pick up other
people, I hold back.”
I looked up, feeling my face smooth out for the first time in what felt like
hours, feeling my wheels slide back into his track at last. “I’m earnestly
noting that you have nothing to refute about looking like a movie star.”
“A young Paul Newman, I think.”
I snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself with that “young” part.”
He looked exactly like a young Paul Newman.
“We should be right.” I was calmer. I was as calm as I was going to be. I felt
reckoning right over my shoulder, watching us. “Why did you have to go slumming
with me?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sick of men telling me they’re sorry.”
He let that one hang in the air unanswered, like he did with many of my baited
hooks. “I need to piss,” he finally said. I rolled over and watched him while
he stretched on the edge of the bed, tracing the lines of his back with my eyes
as I’d traced them with my tongue about an hour ago.
“You’re a misguided sentimental fool,” I remarked, and lifted my foot to push
softly against him. He turned halfway to glance back at me, and I could only
assume our smirks matched. “You should focus on putting your charity into the
kids.” I paused. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. “Just not your
dick.”
“What, like you?”
Touché. “Ehh, I might have fucked that up. I probably did.”
I pulled a shirt back on, and nothing else. I gave him time to dress, and was
waiting with a cup of coffee in the kitchen. I tried not to be turned on by the
disheveled, half-put-together look he had when he appeared, but still stifled a
whine behind the lip of my cup. “Thanks,” he said, tucking in his shirt as he
turned to face me at the opposite counter.
“So this is it?”
He seemed stunned that I would ask. I was stunned that I felt so peaceful about
it. “If you think you’re falling hard enough to proclaim it post-coitally, then
this needs to stop. At the very least.”
“He’s a minor.” Part of me still wanted him to leave angry. I wouldn’t stop
believing it was a possibility.
Erwin sighed and picked up his coffee cup. “I’m good at my job but I’m not
there to be a hypocrite. It’s hard enough being gay in high school, so that’s
not mine to pass judgment on. Especially since I amsort of a hypocrite. I know
how hard it is to catch you at a disadvantage, though, and whoever he is he
seems to have done that.” He paused to sip, and looked up at me. “Do you make
him happy? Are you going to try to unfuckwhat you say you’ve fucked up? Did you
fuck it up because of me? Because if so, I’m sorrier than before.”
I glanced away, giving him an implicit “yes” to every question.
“Are you going to be good to someone that vulnerable?”
After a heavy, frustrated sigh, I said all I could think: “This hurts.”
“It does.”
“Why did you ever do this?”
“Because I’m a coward.”
That would have really been enough. He could have left his coffee cup behind
and I would have stared at the edge of it, thought it was very poignant while I
cleaned off all the things his lips had touched, including my own body, for the
last time. But he had to go on. He had to go on because he was the worst best
thing that had ever happened to me. “Twenty years ago, I would have killed to
be in his shoes. To have someone like you to be brave for.” I felt that
familiar stinging behind my eyes and I wanted to punch him in the chest again.
“You’re exceptional. Levi, you’re beautiful and smart and you’re so good. So
good that you go out of your way to convince others you’re not.”
I tightened up when he moved toward me, and flinched when he touched my hair.
He knew he didn’t have the right to do so anymore, so he pulled away at the
last moment. It took my breath away when I saw the sad smile on his face.
“I tried for a decade not to feel anything,” I said. I didn’t wipe away the
tear that broke free. He’d already seen me cry. Erwin had seen me in literally
every humor except perfectly happy. I had nothing to hide. ”Why are you making
this happen?”
He leaned in and we opened the space between ourselves once more just so he
could kiss the tear away from my cheek. You sonofabitch,I mouthed but did not
say.
“Are you sure it’s all me?”
He did not say goodbye. He let those be his last words, and obviously he wanted
me to think about them. I got in the car when he was gone, leaving the
apartment a time capsule to ruminate on in better spirits. I opened up the
Camaro on the highway, taking her to ninety, coaxing her back down,
accelerating quickly enough to hear her hit that sweet spot between third and
fourth gear every time where the engine thrummed like a sex purr.
I made a loop around the city and came back through the county road to find the
old lot by the industrial park while the sun was still setting. Part of me
hoped a shitty old station wagon would be waiting there, but I was alone. It
was good, in a way, to have the time to think. The rain left behind a fresh,
turned earth smell in the big field. I closed my eyes and breathed it in
deeply.  
“No, definitely not.” Sitting cross-legged on the hood of my car with the
windows down and the radio playing, I finally answered the question into the
wind once the sky was dark.  
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter Notes
     Sometimes (and then happened when Acclamation was serial, as well) I
     get nervous when nothing really happens in a chapter. But that's just
     how things happen, and I think that even in these moments we're
     getting to a lot of the meat of what makes 1994!Eren who he is.
     Boring? I don't think so. Frustrating? Maybe. That shirt doe.
     SO ALL I'M SAYING IS DON'T GET SUPER EXCITED, THERE ARE NO HUGE
     REVELATIONS OR RESOLUTIONS IN THIS CHAPTER. Just enjoy it. Please.
     (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ
     Oh and for a song-drop with this chapter check out "More Than This"
     by Roxy Music.
Whether I wanted to or not (I didn’t), I had to go back to school the next
morning. It was a Friday, at least, and that was the only bright side I could
find. I offered to pick Armin up, for strength in numbers more than anything
else, and showed up earlier than I usually might have even rolled out of bed.
He noted as much when he answered the door. “It’s not even 6:00 yet,” he
pointed out, like I didn’t know. “Let me get dressed and I’ll be out.”
“I figure if we get there early we can avoid running into everyone, maybe get a
parking spot on the side street. You know.”
Armin chuckled at his bedroom door. “You’ve put more thought into it than I
have.” I waited in the living room petting a sleepy Rosie until he told me he
was ready to go.
“What’s this?” He asked halfway to school, pointing at the radio.
I took a quick, bracing breath, and tried to play it off. “Nine Inch Nails.” No
mention of where the tape came from, the circumstances surrounding it. It
wasn’t something I wanted to talk about. I was managing to forget it for
minutes at a time, here and there. Armin had other things on his mind as well,
though.
“I thought your radio was broken.”
“No, the song’s supposed to sound like that.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. I was still cranky, and for the moment I could play it off
as a by-product of the early morning.
“It’s okay, I’m just tired.”
Armin pretended like the song was something he enjoyed for a minute before he
asked, “Are you coming to Jean’s tonight?”
“Oh, yeah, there’s a party tonight.”
“Yeah. It’ll be a good distraction, I think.”
I wasn’t feeling particularly social, but a distraction did seem to be the best
option. “I’ll decide later. See how the day goes.”
“Yeah.”
The side street that ran between the school grounds and the utility billing
center across from it boasted six parallel parking spots. They were prime real
estate, I’d realized in the first couple of weeks; close to campus and near
enough to the faculty parking lot that vehicles were absolutely safe. No one
seemed to have dominion over the spots, either. I saw different cars there
every morning, entirely dependent on who cared to wake up early enough. I
didn’t expect it to become a habit, of course, showing up before 6:30 just to
claim a parking space. But, for the first few days following the incident, it
was probably a good idea (I had those occasionally).
The misty dawn wasn’t giving way to sunlight. It was probably going to rain.
There was something almost secretive about the school that early, with only a
few cars in the faculty lot as we crossed it. Armin took the words right out of
my mouth, saying, “It’s kind of eerie right now. Like no one’s here.”
“Yeah, I was just thinking that.” The contemplative gloom was about to make me
shift into the weird sort of peaceful mood that only comes from a dark, rainy
day. My eyes swept across the lot and I nodded at nothing in particular.
Certain people stand out on gloomy days, like they were never meant to be part
of it, and Vice Principal Smith was one of them. I’d thought it the first time
I saw him, before I’d ever met Levi or knew even a whisper more about him
besides his occupation: “that guy’s too handsome to be doing this job.”
Handsome in the conventional sense, of course. Too handsome to be trusted. Out
of his element, out of sync with the world I knew. An adultin the symbolic and
literal sense alike. Of course, the fact that it was him didn’t help.  
Before I could look at something else, I caught his eyes across the parking
lot. He was standing next to a white Supra. I might have groaned a little,
recognizing it from my list of dream cars, more realistic than a Lamborghini
but still just slightly less likely than an Evo. The car would normally have
been the last straw on withholding my reasonable mood, but in the face of
everything that had happened the night before (all of which suddenly came
rushing back) it was just one more thing.
I wondered whether he wanted to say anything in particular. Not to me, of
course. He didn’t know anything about me. I was just another kid to him, and a
pity case at that. It would be easy for me to duck his attention, and somehow
that pissed me off more. Maybe he had something to say to Armin. I tried not to
think too much about the fact that he’d fucked Levi. I tried not to think of
how often, and how well, and how unforgettably he’d apparently done so, and I
failed. I’d heard too many things to be comfortable around him, and the fact
that I saw him as a rival was laughable the more I thought about it. Too many
details had already influenced the way I saw him, and even without all of that
he was stilltoo bright on a dismal morning. My mind clouded with anger that I
couldn’t direct anywhere.
He brought us together in the first place, though,I thought. It made me almost
sick.  
“Good morning!” Armin said in Erwin’s direction.
“Shut up,” I hissed at him.
“What? Why?”
“You’ll look like a little kiss-ass, is why.” I started to head in the other
direction. Armin scoffed and followed.
“You’re in a mood.”
“I am!” It was all I had to say. At that point, I had absolutely no interest in
going to Jean’s party.
By English, I still didn’t. Not that I paid much attention to begin with, but
the class seemed even more interminable than usual while my thoughts bounced
everywhere, remembering everything Levi had done and said, running the same
scenes and phrases over and over in my head. It wasn’t a matter of how to fix
things, really. It was a matter of whether it was even worth it to try.
“Eren.” Reiner had slipped into the seat behind me. I was never sure how I felt
about him, and that particular day wasn’t the time to settle my impressions
about anyone. Reiner was smart, one of the smartest in our class probably. He
played football and wrestled in spring. He was one of the archetypal Trost High
elite that I would always be leery to exchange kind words with, despite the
fact that he’d never given me any particular trouble. I ignored him at first.
“Eren.”
“What?” I whispered, turning around in my chair. Maybe he needed to borrow a
pencil, I had no idea.
“Are you going to the party tonight?”
My eyebrows bowed in, but I already knew I looked hostile enough. “What? What
do you care?”
“I wanted to hear about how you and Mikasa laid out those guys.”
I sighed and shook my head. “I didn’t…” I hesitated. Since when had I backed
down from overstating my accomplishments, especially when it came to brawling?
“It’s not that interesting.”
“I heard that one of ‘em has a broken arm.”
Armin glanced up from his paper, shot me a warning expression, and refocused
just as quickly. Part of me hoped that the news spreading around the school was
concentrating more on the epic injuries, and less on the cause and effect.
“I don’t know, we haven’t heard anything since the other day.” I shrugged
mightily and spoke just a little louder, hoping the teacher would interrupt us
and that Reiner would be sent back to his seat.
“Well…” We weren’t interrupted, and Reiner went on. “If you do show up, I’d
like to hear about it. In the meantime—“ he shot his finger between me and
Armin, surprisingly, “—I’ve got your back.”
It was unexpected, but it definitely did the trick in getting my mind off of
Levi for the time being.
Throughout the day I couldn’t help noticing the subtle things more acutely.
When I heard whispers I immediately assumed they were about us, about me at the
very least. Laughter made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I was
chomping at the bit for someone to say the wrong thing, to even dare to utter a
syllable in my direction or in Armin’s. I asked him almost hopefully (I was
later ashamed to realize) whether anyone had given him trouble when we met up
before our last class.
His face said it all; he was just eager for the day to be over, trying to get
through it without another scene. “I’m trying not to pay attention. Seems okay.
You know, I don’t think many people know what really happened.”
“All right. Good.” I was lying through my teeth, still dying to take out my
aggression on something. “You want to do something after school?”
“I was going to go on over to Jean’s,” he started. “If that’s okay.”
“It’s fine. Maybe I’ll see you there later.”
“Still haven’t decided?”
“Not really.”
He owed me nothing, of course, and so of course it was fine. But it was still
empty, knowing that my best friend was choosing someone else’s company over
mine. Being single was perfectly agreeable with me, so long as Armin was single
as well.
Thinking that way, and knowing that I was powerless to stop thinking that way,
just made me feel like a piece of shit.
At home, in a rare and potentially desperate display of diligence, I opened a
book. We were reading The_Great_Gatsby in English. At the beginning of the week
we’d been given our copies; we needed to finish them by the following Friday.
If you asked me, we’d already been reading it for far too long. I didn’t like
to read. Not anything, not ever. Not really. I’d enjoyed The_Hobbitin middle
school, but since then things just seemed to be getting more long-winded, more
muddled in pointless wording that masked a lack of things actually happening.
When I first looked at The_Great_Gatsby I thought “all right, at least it’s
short.” Then I opened it, and realized I couldn’t figure out what was going on
within the first ten pages.
I cracked it open to the first place the pages flipped and lay back on my bed,
holding it above my head to try and see if any images took hold.
I wound up reading for two hours, much to my astonishment. I sucked up the
prose somehow from Chapter 5 onward, reading breathlessly until I blinked away
from a page somewhere in the middle of Chapter 6 to hear the phone ringing. It
wound up being a telemarketer, so I hung up and wandered back to my room. It
was dark outside. I’d actually gotten lost in time.
There was a worksheet – a study guide of sorts – which our teacher had given us
to prepare for Monday’s quiz on the required reading. Apparently we were only
supposed to read up through Chapter 6. I’d just gone beyond it. I had no idea
what had come before Chapter 5, of course. But I could piece it together.
I skimmed the questions and realized I still wasn’t entirely certain, on an
academic level, whether I possessed the necessary smarts to discuss themes and
characters. But I kept coming back to one quote – a quote that had kept me
reading, in fact. “There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy
tumbled short of his dreams—not through her own fault but because of the
colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything.
He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion.”
Thoughts about Levi and thoughts about Erwin and thoughts about my own part in
everything started rattling around in my head, less heavy than they’d been that
morning, but more uncontrollable for it. I wasn’t a deep thinker. I didn’t like
pulling conclusions out of thin air or interpreting things I didn’t know every
side to. But it was strange to think of myself as being a part of something I
couldn’t control, and so of course I couldn’t stop thinking about it. By late
evening I realized I needed to get up, get out, get my head on straight and
dosomething or I might go crazy.
An hour later, Jean was prodding at my shoulder with the lip of an open beer
bottle. “Drink.”
The party was calmer than the first I’d been to, when I was new to everything,
when Armin was still single and Jean was still an asshole and I was still naïve
to romantic heartbreak. Or maybe I’d imagined that, as well. Everything was
sort of swimming, that night. I wasn’t hearing words right, and I certainly
wasn’t speaking them any better. Jean was still sort of an asshole.
“Driiiiink,” he repeated, and laughed when I finally snatched the bottle out of
his hand and gave in.
“So what’s the latest with you?” He sat beside me on the couch in one of the
three rooms I would be tempted to call the living room. One was probably the
den, one might have been the sitting room, another the great room – whatever
the case, I’d been stuck to the same seat since I’d arrived. Nothing was
interesting. People were too complicated for the moment.
Jean wasn’t one to dwell on the negative. He could have asked me how I was
holding up, if Armin had said anything, if I’d heard the latest about his
grandfather’s car. But no, he just wanted to know the latest.
I didn’t want to tell him. So I just shrugged. “Same old.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
“Fuck you. Go away.”
“No. Now I’m interested. You haven’t seemed like this since the night we first
met. Who pissed in your Cheerios?” I wanted to just shove him off the couch but
I knew I couldn’t.
“No one, it’s just some stuff. Personal stuff.”
He paused. “Still working on our bet?”
Immediately, I wished he hadn’t brought that up.
“I’m working on it,” I mumbled into my bottle. I’d almost hoped the whole thing
had been forgotten in the face of so much drama. Jean, though, didn’t tend to
forget things.
“Uhhh, I’m just saying…” He moved closer to me, smelling like a little too much
Polo Sport. “Reiner’s been asking me about you. He’s already pretty drunk. I
think someone might be in the questioningstage, if you know what I mean. You
know… if you want to take care of things tonight.”
I pulled a face and didn’t even try to hide it. “Um? Definitely not.”
“Eh, suit yourself.”
“I don’t—“ I sighed angrily. “This is the last thing I want to be talking about
tonight, okay?”
Armin appeared, and not a moment too soon. I looked up at him beseechingly. I
wanted his company, but I was being too mopey to keep him interested even if I
had it. “Are you all right?” He asked as soon as he saw my face. “I keep
thinking there’s something you need to tell me.”
“No!” I barked, because I’m stubborn and I wanted to blend in while holding
everything important close to my chest until I’d sorted it out.
“It isn’t about your dad, is it?”
“No. I told you, he showed up. He left. I didn’t even see him.” I drank
mightily from the beer Jean had given me. It was dark and bitter, thicker than
the Natty Light being passed around among everyone else.
“Well, then, if there’s nothing, don’t be a buzzkill!” Jean laughed, trying to
be pleasant, ingratiating though the effort was. He slapped me on the knee.
“I’m going to go rack some balls in the game room, come on.”
I liked to play pool when I had the chance, and at least it gave me something
to focus on. Reiner joined us for a game and I expertly kept my eyes from
meeting his most of the time. Because he asked, Armin and I discussed the fight
in the parking lot two days prior. The beer had loosened me up just enough to
use it as an excuse to talk. “Come to think of it,” I suddenly started thinking
out loud as I polished my cue. “Is Mikasa here?”
“She was here earlier, when the party started. She left, though,” Jean informed
me.
“Hm.” I wasn’t really concerned. We sometimes managed to miss one another for
days at a time, but usually not during the school year.
“I should go home soon.” A yawn slipped in after I said it, with perfect
timing. I turned to Armin. “Do you need a ride?”
“I’m staying over,” he said, glancing back and forth like I was an idiot for
not knowing that already.
“Gotcha. Okay, I’m out of this next game. I’m gonna go outside for a minute,
get some fresh air before I take off.”
The fact that I felt a little better after a round of socializing was enough
for me to call the evening a success. I needed to tap out before things turned
sour. I walked out onto the long wooden deck running the back edge of Jean’s
house. It looked out over the backyard, and further from that I saw the lake on
the edge of his property.       
But who’s Gatsby?I wondered, looking out at the lake until I realized there
didn’t have to be one. There was no green light, no dock. This was just a
stupid ugly lake behind a house I didn’t even feel like I belonged in. I was
extrapolating. I was finding connections between points on completely different
planes.
I thought of cliché songs that talked about being under the same moon. The moon
was between clouds, bright, reflecting off the lake. I wondered what Levi was
doing.
Maybe I didn’t want to know.
“You know…” Boards squeaked behind me to herald Jean’s presence before I heard
his voice. He was holding two more beers. He handed me one as he went on. I
knew I needed to leave before things turned sour, but I took it anyway. “Sorry
about earlier. That couldn’t have been the thing you wanted to hear if you’re
still working on your own relationship stuff.”
I wondered if Armin had given him a piece of his mind, being of the opinion
that Armin was the only reason Jean was treating me amicably in the first
place.
I just shook my head. “Forget it.”
“This may sound ridiculous, but I feel like it’s wrong of me to take this
stupid bet any further. Armin told me a little about it and it seems to him
like you really might have something going with—“
“You don’t have the money, do you?”
Jean tilted his head at me and blinked. “Eren, I just got a SeaDoo for
literally no reason. Do you know what my allowance is every month? I can damn
well make the money happen but it’s not that.”
“Well don’t forget, I have to prove he likes me, too. He won’t even prove that
to me. That’s my shit to deal with. I don’t think you need to even worry.”
With a sigh, Jean tipped his beer back. I hoped he was giving up. I forgot how
much he loved to talk. “The bet was a stupid idea, is all I’m saying.”
“Maybe to you. A challenge means something, to me.”
“Levi has nothing to do with the bet.”
I bristled when Jean said his name. No one else in the word felt close to our
situation, close to knowing what was happening within it. They certainly
weren’t even allowed,as far as I was concerned, to use his name. “Are you still
trying to get me to sleep with Reiner?”
“Ew, no. No, he’s a flake, I was kidding about that. Besides, he’s hairy and
sort of gross in a way. I mean, if you were into buff dudes I could see, but
you seem—“
I didn’t want to know what I seemed like to Jean Kirschtein. “Jean, you’re bad
at feelings.”
“I am awesomeat feelings! This is about me telling you that Levi has nothing to
do with the bet, which was stupid, and if you want to win that badly I’ll just
call the car payment an early birthday present.”
“My birthday’s in May.”
“A reallyearly birthday present.”
I was tempted, certainly in part because I felt like Jean owed me something.
“You’re drunk.”
“Kind of!” He threw an arm around me and I growled lowly, too lowly for him to
pay any mind. “But don’t fuck this up because of something so… trivial.”
I just kept looking at the lake. “We’re young, though, right? We’re kids, we’re
supposed to fuck things up a few times before we get it right. People always
move on when something better comes along, don’t they? Either that or you know
they’re just settling for you. And you’re a disappointment because you’re just
okay.Maybe I want this to be all about getting laid and fucking up, and who
cares who likes me?”
Jean could have easily said something about that being his point in the first
place, the first night we’d met. The fact that I couldn’t, no matter how hard I
tried, get someone to actually like me. But I’d said that part about people
moving on, and he didn’t really listen to the rest of what I had to say. His
mouth, usually ready to open right up for a lightning-quick comeback, was drawn
contemplatively in a half-scowl as he looked up at the moon. I hoped I’d
dredged up uncomfortable memories.
I hoped he was still hurting, too. I was a piece of shit.
“Sometimes…” He said at last. “When other people move on, you learn to move on,
too. And then you really like what you find. Sometimes maybe you don’t really
expect to find it so you’re not willing to believe it’s good at first.”
“But what if you know it won’t last?”
“Oh, my bad, Jaeger, you planning on living forever? You can see into the
future, suddenly? Who fucking cares? Who cares what lasts? Things don’t last,
people don’t last! But what’s up with now, what about you?”
“Forget it, you’re not the one I should talk to about this.” He withdrew his
arm as I moved away from the railing on the deck.
“What have you done for youin the last two weeks that made you happy?”
I paused. I didn’t know, so I threw it back at him. “What about you?”
Jean’s response was instant. “I played an awesome gig with my band. I applied
to Notre Dame. I won a game of chess against my grandpa – the point is, I like
what I do, every day!”
“Well, you’re the weird one, then! Not everyone is happy!”
“I didn’t say I’m happy! I’m just okay.But you know what I am sure of? I’m sure
I’m the best for someone. When they move on it will never be my fault, I make
sure of that, because I like myself.”
I turned around abruptly and started for the door. “I don’t need to hear this.”
“Yes you do!” And that was the last I heard. I’d had two beers and I was at
high risk of being pulled over by Jean’s dad or his cronies, but I didn’t care.
I took the main roads all the way home. I was being reckless and I knew it.
“I’m home,” I declared once I was.
“Hey,” Mikasa greeted me. Aeon Fluxwas on TV and she was drinking something
that looked delicious.
“Is that a Coke float?”
“It is.”
“I’m gonna make one, too.”
“Cool.”
Sometimes I actually fooled myself into believing we were blood related. Even
halfway would have made sense. The truth is, my step-sister was what Mikasa had
chosen to call herself, rather than explain too much to people who didn’t
deserve to know. She never went to Child Services because she’d already come
from Child Services. We became her foster family when things were still good.
Before mom got sick. Before dad lost his will to try. But in the back of my
mind and the bottom of my heart I always had the feeling that Mikasa and I were
the real match, the real family we found in the whole mess. We kept losing
people, so we were determined to keep holding onto one another, at the very
least.
Being around her grounded me. Even when she teased me and even when we fought,
I was still thankful that at the end of the day I could always make a Coke
float and sit next to her on the couch, tell her about how I’d read a couple of
chapters of The_Great_Gatsby, and ask her about practically anything.
“How was the party after I left?” She asked eventually.
“Kind of lame, really.”
“Yeah.”
“So you just came right home?”
“I did.”
I couldn’t make my mouth open to talk about what was troubling me. No one was
getting it out of me, or was I simply not ready to let go of it? I entertained
the possibility that I was ashamed. That made the most sense.
Liquid Televisionwas over. Beavis and Butt-head was starting. I watched it only
up until I realized I recognized the song on one of the videos they were
riffing. It was straight from the tape Levi made for me. “Going to bed,” I
announced to Mikasa, but she called for me before I left the room.
I came back to grab my glass. “Okay, okay, I’ll put it in the sink. Give me
yours, too.”
“No, not that. What’s wrong?”
She gave me the chance.
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I’m going to bed.”
I was definitely ashamed.
One of the three bulbs in my overhead lamp crackled and burned out when I
turned on the light in my room. That left one. I always waited until all the
bulbs were burned out to replace any, and even then I usually just took one
from a lamp I didn’t really ever use and got what I could out of that until I
finally got up the initiative to walk to the dollar store for more light bulbs.
I stood in the doorway of my room and glanced around. On my bed were the sheets
I’d half-fitted to the mattress after washing them, swearing every day I’d make
the bed properly when I got home. It had been a week. I had a small writing
desk I was supposed to use for studying. Clothes were piled in the chair. My
backpack was thrown on the floor and had only been opened to take out the book
I’d been reading. The Food Lion bag from Levi’s was still sitting ceremoniously
between the bed and the door. Knowing already that I wanted to open it properly
at last, I grabbed it and sat on the edge of the mattress, sighing because I
knew it was going to either make me sad or piss me off. Probably both.
The first t-shirt looked new, felt new in that stiff way, had probably been
slipped on once and then forgotten about. The logo on the front was for Hole. I
only sort of liked Hole, because no one seemed to like Courtney Love after Kurt
Cobain died. I’d wear it around the house. Maybe Mikasa liked Hole.
There was one Cure shirt, and one for Joy Division. The last was for a band I’d
never heard of called Roxy Music, and I liked it best. The logo looked like a
two-headed eagle and I would have been lying to say it didn’t remind me at
least a little of the tattoo on Levi’s back.
The fabric felt soft, worn-in like a great t-shirt should. It didn’t look like
it was too big for Levi. I glanced around the room like someone might be there
to embarrass me by seeing before I pulled the neck of the shirt up to my nose
and sniffed it.
No, this was definitely not a shirt that had just been too big for him. Even
with the fragrance of laundry detergent obvious on the cotton, Levi’s smell was
all over it, and my stomach flip-flopped to think that I already knew his scent
so well.
I was unconcerned with the jeans. I moved those aside and thought I’d exhausted
my sad, stupid little bounty, but true to his indirect personality Levi had
placed a note at the bottom of the bag.
“Shit,” I hissed, and my heartbeat flew into an immediate frenzy as I reached
in to pluck it up. It wasn’t on fine stationery – it wasn’t even really on a
sheet of proper paper. It was the back of a used window envelope. His paycheck
had probably been mailed in it. I shook my head slightly, trying not to think
too much about his personality. His handwriting was all sharp lines and barely
decipherable curves to denote letters. I had to read it three times to be sure
of what it said.
Eren,
There’s some Roxy Music on the tape I gave you but I don’t expect you to know
shit about them otherwise. Just know this is my favorite shirt and I’m giving
it to you because you need a good band t-shirt. If you mistreat it or rip it or
anything I will rip your throat out. Okay, that’s all I wanted to say. Make
sure you empty the pockets on the jeans before you wear them (I wanted that
part to be a surprise but you’re pretty much an idiot so I’m just going to tell
you).
Levi,he signed it with long bottom edge on the L and a deep point on the V.
With a sidelong glance at the jeans still folded neatly next to me, I tightened
my hand around the note, wanting to crumble it up and forget about it because
none of those sentiments meant anything anymore. I didn’t need to empty the
pockets, I didn’t need to know what sort of surprise Levi’s mind had come up
with.
But I wanted to.
I unfolded them at the waist and noticed the thicker pocket, slipped my fingers
inside and felt satin.
My eyes went wide and my nostrils flared. I knew already what was in that
pocket, because Levi was artistic and creative and maybe romantic, but he was
also unapologetically sexual and more than a little dirty-minded. I didn’t need
to empty the pocket; I didn’t deserve it. That wasn’t for me anymore.
Instead I left everything on the edge of the bed, crawled to my pillow, and
shamefully held Levi’s shirt next to my head, knowing full well that I didn’t
deserve that either but having no other way to calm myself to sleep.  
I slept in, and slept in longer, pretended to be asleep when I heard the phone
ring, got out of bed to put my headphones on before I crawled back into bed,
listened to the radio, essentially did nothing.
Nothing continued even after I pulled myself from bed. TV kept me company and
Pizza Rolls kept me fed. Nothing lasted right up until Mikasa came home.
“Hey,” I greeted her.
“What did you do today?”
In lieu of actually answering I just chuckled and spread my arms out to
indicate the couch, the fact that I was still wearing boxer shorts, and the
three empty paper plates. She snorted and walked between me and the coffee
table, tousling my hair on the way.
“We’re out of ice cream, by the way. This is like the third Coke float I’ve
made,” I told her.
“Good job.”
“What about you?” I asked her.
“Went out. The old bank parking lot downtown, that’s where a lot of people are
skating now, so I hung out there for a while.” She was holding a styrofoam cup
and moving the straw around as she sat down, to dredge the last traces of soda
from between the ice.
“What time is it?”
“Like, 8.”
“Wow, I have done exactly nothing all day.” I felt sort of accomplished for
that, because at least I hadn’t fucked anything else up.   
Mikasa watched a few minutes of Frasier with me, but I couldn’t’ help noticing
that she was still sitting on the edge of the couch. Finally, she cleared her
throat. “I went to the donut shop before it closed.”
I nearly choked on my drink, and just waited for her to go on. Then I realized
that she was waiting for meto reply.
“Oh god,“ I started, wiping a bit of ice cream from my mouth. “Please don’t
tell me you went right in with a threat.”
“Kind of.” She finally relaxed into the couch and brought both feet up onto the
cushion, holding her knees close to her chest. She didn’t tell me details
because she didn’t need to. I could practically imagine Mikasa walking up to
the window, pointing at Levi and saying we need to talk about my brother. “His
reaction threw me off, though.”
I made a noise because a noise was really all I could manage. Mikasa looked at
me and it was the calmin her expression that made me feel like I was somehow in
for it. I could feel the aura coming off of her, and realized that the threat,
for some reason, had turned toward me.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” she said. “I know enough. And if my
stupid little brother’s breaking some dude’s heart – which I was stupid for
never considering, because that is just soyou – it’s my responsibility to step
in and stop you from being a dildo.”
“Wait.” I threw that in very strongly, and Mikasa did.
She looked at me, still very serene.
“Me breaking whose heart now, what? What?”
“I’m supposed to take you out tonight,” she informed me.
***** Chapter 14 *****
Chapter Notes
     Two things here – One, if you haven’t read the minisodes/asides that
     I’ve been posting on Tumblr I’d like to direct you to their
     existence. One’s an_indulgent_bit_of_Levi/Erwin_backstory, one’s Ymir
     and_Christa_meeting, and one’s an_almost_necessary_glimpse_into
     Erwin’s_take_on_the_situation_that_may_or_may_not_make_you_want_to
     punch_the_first_person_you_see_because,_well,_feels. So yeah check it
     out, yo! Two, I’ve gone with Nanaba as male identifying, gender-wise,
     though he is also in Levi’s esteemed line of work soooo.
     You guys beat me up with this one, let me tell you. Can I maybe
     request just a bit more patience maybe idek kudasai, work is killing
     me :( But this story makes me happy! :D I just don't want the quality
     to suffer and also I'm getting only three hours of sleep just so I
     can finish and post this chapter.
“What the hell is that? What did you do?”
I was hesitant to respond. Luckily I’d been on Mikasa’s right side while we
drove, but sitting down once we entered the Bent Ducat left her quite open to
see the ugly red mark near my mouth. She reached over like she was going to rub
it off, and I intercepted her hand with a graceful karate chop motion. “I cut
myself shaving before we left,” I said as softly as I could over the music.
She gave me a pouting, pitiful smile and was unable to suppress a laugh after a
moment or two. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even know you shaved yet.”
“Keep your voice down. We share a bathroom, how didn’t you figure that out?”
Mikasa didn’t dress up, electing to stay in her favorite overalls and the Bongo
shirt she’d worn to go skating. She was along for moral support and a show. I,
on the other hand, found myself obsessing a little too much over what to wear.
“A t-shirt and jeans,” she kept telling me from the hallway, eager to get
going.
So I wound up, after three other options, in a t-shirt and jeans. Not his
jeans, no. That would have been too much. I grilled her while I pulled the Roxy
Music shirt over my head, demanding to know what Levi had said, and Mikasa
advised that she wasn’t about to divulge anything that would give me an unfair
advantage. I tried to plead my case, of course, but she wouldn’t even tell me
what I was supposedly defending myself against. She did, however, tell me to
throw a flannel on over the shirt, because it was cold out.
In a rare turn of events, I thought I looked okay, even if I felt like my
stomach was about to go rogue and jump right out of my throat.
Hanji was busy at the door when I entered, but she ushered me inside with a
knowing look. “I like your dress,” I muttered as she put a red stamp on my
hand.
“Thanks,” she said, looking down for a moment to remember what she was wearing.
It was a plain black dress with a high neck and a thick belt around the waist.
With her glasses and knee-high boots, she looked like Lisa Loeb. There were
people entering behind us already, but Hanji leaned forward and gave me a quick
kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad to you see you again.”
All I could think about, though, once we were seated, was the cut on my cheek.
“It’s, um… I mean, it’s not that bad,” Mikasa tried to assure me.
We’d placed ourselves close to the stage, at Mikasa’s urging. Again, I asked
her if there was anything she needed to tell me. ”No,” she insisted. “Levi
wanted you to come see him tonight, so we’re here. You’re with me, relax. Now
shut up or I’ll start calling you Nicky.”
“Nicky?Really? Are you 12?”
The crowd at the Bent Ducat was thick and lively, and only grew during the
hour. Time passed slowly for me, but of course it would have. Had word reached
Levi, wherever he was tucked away backstage, that I’d arrived? Was I special
enough that Hanji would even tell him? Was Hanji being strangely detached for
some reason when she wandered by to talk, or was that just me projecting
worries on a legitimately busy club owner who had more important things to do?
The last time I’d seen Hanji, I remembered, she’d taken care of me while Levi
wandered off to have sex with someone else. Maybe she was just being as
sympathetic as possible.
Maybe she still knew nothing. It had only been two days, after all. Of course
it was my entire world; it didn’t need to be anyone else’s, nor did I expect it
to be. I just put my faith in Mikasa to keep me interested enough in anything
else so I wouldn’t start thinking too much.
The show began at 11:00. The longer I’d sat there attempting small talk with
the few people she introduced me to, the harder my leg began to fidget,
bouncing on heel below the table while my nerves ratcheted up and I kept
catching the scent of Levi’s shirt on my body. Finally, though, the music
switched off, the shitty sound system crackled on, and the lights on the stage
went up.
I took a deep breath, even knowing that Tirne des Ailes wouldn’t be taking the
stage immediately.
The MC wasn’t the same old man from the first night I’d been at the Bent Ducat.
Quite the opposite, actually. To the obvious excitement of the crowd, a blonde
beauty took the stage, spangled dress swinging with long beaded layers where it
wasn’t hugging her figure lovingly. She was about Levi’s age, by my best guess,
but it was difficult to tell with the amount of makeup she was wearing. Blue
shadow swept up to her eyebrows and her lips were a show-stopping fire engine
red. Levi’s makeup had looked practically naturalby comparison.
Regardless, she was gorgeous, and I had to smile.
“It’s Nana. Well, Baby Nana, technically, but I just call her Nana,” Mikasa
leaned over to inform me. “She’s hilarious. Super nice, too.”
Baby Nana commanded the stage as she walked it, and her voice was loud enough
that she barely needed a microphone to reach the entire room. I wasn’t quite
looking forward to having to wait when all I really wanted to see was Levi’s
performance, but I couldn’t help being entertained.
“They tell me I’m an opening act for Tirne des Ailes now,” she said a few
minutes into her bit, and stopped with a hand on her hip to make an unimpressed
face. There were a few jeers, a few whoops from the crowd. “That’s cute, that’s
cute. Because if we’ve all heard right, no one’s opening for Tirne, if you know
what I mean.”
I actually gaped into a laugh, and next to me Mikasa threw her head back to
guffaw.
Nana turned, hand still on her hip, and seemed to be yelling backstage,
ostensibly to Tirne. “Honey, you’re so tiny!” A beat. “Where do you put it
all?”
I was blushing in spite of myself.
“But I don’t want to be like Tirne… she’s too classy, too quiet. I want to be
like Tonya Harding.” There were a few boos, and Lady Nana looked genuinely
shocked. “Hear me out, hear me out. Tonya Harding is a perfect bitch. She
hasn’t taken shit from anyone, and continues to do whatever the fuck she wants.
She’s our generation’s Evita – she’s working class, slutty, not a natural
blonde, and will probably be played by Patti Lupone on Broadway someday.” I
didn’t really get it, but I still laughed.
Following the routine, she performed one song before announcing the main event.
Nana had managed to put me at ease with her sunny disposition and high-energy
showmanship, but once the name Tirne des Ailes was spoken I was done for. I
felt my whole body tense immediately, not knowing what to expect. Having so
many people around me applauding for the appearance of Levi’s alter-ego made me
feel strange as well. Was it right to have a feeling of possessiveness for
someone I’d known so briefly? I didn’t even know Tirne yet, I reminded myself.
She had more fans than I’d ever considered before; people who obviously loved
her for the entertainment she provided, the beauty she embodied. Even Jean had
called her a local legend. And yet Levi seemed so fundamentally alone. Did I
consider myself lucky to have his attention, or was it something else?
I needed one of Levi’s trademark moments of blunt insight, but instead I had
Tirne des Ailes entering from between the drawn curtains hip-first, winding up
to the opening lines of the song. By now I recognized “Kiss Them for Me.” Levi
hadn’t given me the song, and I couldn’t afford an album, so I called my
favorite DJ one night and requested it. Even after recording it off the radio
when it finally played, I could only decipher half of the words. Tirne appeared
to have known them since birth.
The only other performance I’d seen from her had been quiet and sensual, giving
her adequate chance to move and look beautiful but none to smile or seem like
the firecracker Levi had described to me. Tirne was smiling by the second line
of the song, pointing at Baby Nana on the side of the stage when she sang the
line “now you’re the prettiest by far”and cruelly turning the finger back in on
herself to a round of cheers.
Seeing him smile – seeing her smile – drew me into a different world. The
dress, I knew very well. The silver sparkles took me back to the uncomfortable
encounter that ended our Thursday night, but seeing it fitted around Tirne’s
body, lights dancing on it as she tromped across the stage in those obscene red
heels, I couldn’t linger on the negative. She flirted with our side of the
stage but still did not acknowledge me directly, accepting a five dollar bill
from Mikasa before turning to let dark curls bounce over her shoulders. I
couldn’t help feeling like we were purposefully being ignored. I wanted a
better chance to see her face, whether or not I could stand it.
Another song started as soon as the first was over. I was half-expecting
another song by Siouxsie Sioux, but instead I turned to Mikasa and murmured “No
way,” when “Rhythm is Gonna Get You” started.
“Tirne really likes Gloria Estefan,” she explained, and quickly returned her
attention to the stage.
Maybe Ihad been a little presumptive to assume Levi hadn’t taken any dance
training. Maneuvering in heels was difficult enough, in my eyes, but Tirne
managed to move above and beyond the call of duty. Tight, precise movements,
hips swiveling with tiny kicks and bounces thrown in that proved how light on
her feet she actually was. Most impressively, though, she was smiling. I didn’t
know how to feel.   
The song ended and she grinned breathlessly to accept the applause. Nana
reached up to hand Tirne the microphone, and my heart seized. I had no idea
we’d actually be listening to Tirne speak; that was my naivete once again
showing itself, but at least I hadn’t had time to become a nervous wreck over
the possibility.
“Thanks,” she said, primly but heavily, still trying to catch her breath even
as she went on. There wasn’t much affectation to her voice; she still sounded a
lot like Levi. That was just like him, though, to take a character only so far.
“Thank you so much. Wow, there’s a bit of a crowd here tonight. Now, I’m a
modest girl.” There was laughter at that. “So it’s hard for me to believe
you’re all here for me.” She paused, and shook her head slowly. “That was not
the way I meant to word that.” She lowered the microphone to the side and
glared out at the crowd as they laughed, barely withholding a grin, tongue held
between her teeth. When she spoke again she waved a halting hand before
pressing it primly to the center of her chest. “No, no, there’s a fundamental
misunderstanding here – I’m a lady! I’m not rude like some people. Now, what I
meant to say is, I’m flattered so many of you came for me tonight.” Another
pause. “Okay, that one was on purpose. Nana thinks she’s the only one who can
do comedy around here. So, I have one more in me tonight--” Half of the crowd
seemed disappointed, and the other half laughed. Tirne bit her tongue again.
“That’s not entirely true, if the night goes well enough it’s going to be a lot
more than that. Anyway, this is another new song. Someone told me once before,
‘Tirne, don’t do ballads, they’re boring’, and do you know what I told them?” A
beat. “’Mom, fuck you.’ So here we go.”   
I was laughing too much to be nervous, which was probably a good thing. If I’d
thought about it more, I might have had one of my moments of intuition. I might
have pieced it together before the stage lights dimmed and I heard the song
start.
Mikasa noticed the sharp breath I sucked in, the tiny little squeak that I let
out. “Is everything okay?” She asked me.
“I don’t know,” I answered, as she reached over and handed me a few dollars.
“Well, here. At least tip her, she’s working her ass off tonight.”
I just nodded, not really listening to Mikasa while Tirne’s mouth moved around
the words “I hear the ticking of the clock…” and I struggled to remember how to
breathe.  
I couldn’t say how many times I’d listened to that one song in the last 48
hours. I knew the words very well, but seeing them framed by rust-red lips made
them so much more potent. I wondered how much of it was acting, as Tirne’s face
contorted in a moment of what seemed to be genuine desperation just before the
chorus.
Her eyebrows tightened and she looked positively vicious, more beautiful than
I’d imagined, far too beautiful to keep my breath as she finally looked
directly at me with one sharp turn. “I never really cared until I met you.”
My fingers felt numb for a split-second as all the blood rushed to my head. I
forgot how to move, and luckily Mikasa reached over to lift my hand with the
three dollars in it. Tirne deserved more than that, of course – much more – but
I was hardly thinking. She started to move toward us and kept her eyes on mine,
almost like she was daring me to look away as she knelt down. It was as
powerful as holding a kiss, and just like a kiss it took my breath away. The
chorus ended and she was close enough to lean over as she took the bills from
my hand, making sure that her soft fingers lingered on mine in the process.
Should I have mouthed “I’m sorry”? Should I have been waiting for Tirne to do
the same? Would it be the same as waiting for that moment with Levi, face-to-
face, alone?
She fell to her knees at the center of the stage for the climax of the song and
I actually believed she was the one hitting the wailing high note. My heart
soared up for a moment that might have been adrenaline peaking, carried along
by her performance. Whatever the case, Tirne des Ailes managed to show me,
through a mask of thick fake eyelashes and foundation, what I hadn’t actually
brought myself to believe in the weeks I’d slowly been getting to know Levi. I
considered the possibility that he might not have been able to show me while
wearing his own skin.     
The song ended and she exited the stage with a few bows, several more tips, and
not another glance my way.
I finally looked over at Mikasa, with no idea what sort of expression I was
wearing.
“You’re a fool if you think this is one-sided,” she told me bluntly. No need to
hear anything else about what Levi had told her. No need to plead my case.
We sat in silence for a few tense minutes. Part of me wondered if Mikasa
planned to beat sense into me, even though I’d nodded at her assessment. I was
nervous again, because what now?
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I jumped in my seat like a ghost had
appeared behind me.
Baby Nana, not quite a ghost in her jewels and beads and high blonde up-do, was
smiling sweetly at me when I turned around. “Honey, I’ve been told to fetch
you.”
“Fetch me?” I gulped hard.
She took stock of me with a warm expression, reading my nervousness and
reacting to it well. “Yes, honey, come on. You know who wants to see you, now
come on.”
I took her hand, which boasted long pink fingernails and three glittering
cocktail rings. Though shaky, I managed to get up and out of my chair. I turned
to Mikasa. “Are you--?”
“I’m fine, Eren; go.” She didn’t even look at me. I thought for a moment that
she might be upset, but with the last glance I threw her way, I saw her
smiling. 
I was led to a door tucked away beside the stage. NO ADMITTANCE was stenciled
in white, but like the sign on the front door it had mostly chipped off over
the years. Nana opened it for me and held it with one arm, ushering me ahead of
her with a flourish.
I expected to be in a dressing room immediately,  but the hallway ahead seemed
to go on and on, occasionally accented by a door to the right or left. It felt
like I’d stumbled into someone’s home, especially when Nana closed us inside
and the noise from the club became dull background noise.
She threw pointing fingers this way and that. “Greenroom there. Stage door
right here. That’s storage. That’s a bathroom. That hallway… I think it leads
to more storage, I don’t know. This place is weird.” Long fingers curled on my
shoulder and she stopped me, pointing past my shoulder to the spot where the
hallway veered off to the right. “When you turn there, Tirne’s dressing room is
the first door on the right. Go get ‘em, cutie.”
With a giggle she patted me on the back, and I just put one foot in front of
the other until I made it to my destination.
I’d barely knocked once before I was told to come in, so I pushed the door open
slowly and poked my head inside. I must have looked like a scared puppy. At
least it made Tirne laugh, from where she was sitting in a plain metal chair
facing me.
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice even closer to Levi’s than it had been
onstage.       
I slipped inside and closed the door softly behind, pressing myself against the
door as the latch clicked into place. A few seconds passed and I couldn’t help
noting that they weren’t nearly as uncomfortable as I’d figured.
“Hi.” I was surprised to find my voice, but there it was.
She tilted her head at me in polite acknowledgement, which was more than I
could ever say Levi had done. “Hi there,” was the soft, diplomatic reply. There
was a slight turn of mischief to that tone.
With no idea what to say, I just looked at her, at the thick, dark curls that
fell just past her shoulders and the perfectly pallid smoothness of her face.
She laughed quietly, almost self-consciously, and crossed her legs as she
glanced away from me. One leg slid smoothly right over the other, both feet
nearly touching the floor when the pose was complete.
“You look beautiful,” I finally said. Tirne looked right back up at me.
“Do I, really?” She glanced at the mirror, and smiled in a way that indicated
she wasn’t only concerned with the reflection. “Thank you. I like your shirt.”
“Thanks, it was a gift.” After that, I had to say it. “This feels weird.”
“Does it?”
“It’s like I don’t know you right now.”
“Well, what do you want to know? Sit down. I’ll tell you.” I was offered the
chair beside her. I sat sideways and leaned over my knees, still a little
stupefied, still nervous as hell.
“I don’t know. I guess… are you French?” I went with my first thought, still
speaking quietly so I wouldn’t disturb the peaceful silence of the dressing
room too much.  
Seeing a smile on that face would never seem quite right to me, but it was
interesting too look at Tirne’s face and dissect the decoration to get to what
Levi would look like with the same grin. I wondered what could make that grin
happen. I quietly made it into a goal.
“Half. My mother was a maid in New Orleans. My father was the master of the
house. He was also a killer. I was raised like I never had a father, and my
mother taught me the terrible secrets of the estate.” A theatrical flair took
over her tone, then. “I learned how to dispose of bodies before I kissed my
first boy. And it was that boy I took pity on, and tried to warn him of his
fate. But my father… who didn’t know he was my father… still murdered him.” She
paused, and one eyebrow lifted slyly as she looked at me. “So I returned the
favor. At 16 I fled with blood on my hands, never looking back, and I took my
father’s last name as one last fuck you to the nightmare that raised me. Every
day I wonder if I’m destined to repeat the legacy of mayhem, but I’ve done well
outrunning my demons.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. “That’s intense.”
Her voice dropped considerably, and without being told explicitly I somehow
knew that I was hearing from Levi again for a moment. “I was 16 years old and I
wanted to do a French maid who murdered people, this is what I ended up with
under the influence of too many vampire novels.”
I snickered, a little more at ease, studying my hands until I felt eyes on me
and looked back up. “You’re not a vampire, too, are you?”
“I used to be, but I thought that was a little too over the top.” She reached
up to play with her earrings, and added, “Especially since I’m known for my
ability to hold character.”
“I really…” Hesitation gripped me and I didn’t know what the right words were.
“I really enjoyed the show.”
“I think it was worth three dollars.”
“I’m poor!”
Tirne reached over and touched my chin, swiping her thumb on it teasingly. “I
know. That was rude of me. Thank you for showing up.” 
“I like you,” I said, nodding. Honestly, I did. But she wasn’t Levi. A part of
him, yes, but she wasn’t the person I’d fallen for. Tirne grinned at me, and
glanced away with a devilish smirk.
“I know someone who likes you.”
My heart fluttered. “I think I know who you mean.”
Tirne leaned forward, and placed two fingers on my lips. I sat up, shocked by
the touch, and moved farther back as she got closer. “Close your eyes,” she
urged me gently.
I did.
Her painted lips brushed against mine and I smelled powder and the almost-stale
smell of her wig. Beneath that, though, I caught Levi’s scent. “I’m going to
change,” a deep voice rumbled near my ear, and maybe I moaned a bit as she
pulled away. I wondered if she’d caught sight of the nick on my cheek. “You can
wait right outside if you like.”
We still hadn’t apologized, but something was expectant in every word
nonetheless. I felt shaky as I left the room, and the door bumped me on the ass
just slightly when it was closed behind me. Left in the hallway, I wondered
what the hell I was going to do until Levi was ready to see me again.
Fidgeting, I hovered near the dressing room like a leashed pet for what seemed
like ten minutes. I was grateful when I heard a door open a few feet away. Any
distraction was welcome.
Nana caught sight of me immediately when she appeared, and she struck a
coquettish pose as we faced off. “Hello.”
Expectation practically dripped from her voice, so I couldn’t help laughing
nervously at my feet. “Hey.”
“So you’re the one who did all the damage.” She walked closer, smile still on
her face, and gave me a thorough appraisal with her eyes. “You’re adorable; no
wonder.”
“Um, thanks? But… damage?”
With a half-roll of her eyes, Nana leaned against the wall and explained
softly. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. But apparently you did this…
thing…where Levi suddenly realizes he needs to shape up or go it alone. You
know? I don’t know if you’ve been there yet, in your life, but that’s a turning
point. We’ve been drag sisters for years. He’s never reached this point before.
I mean, apparently lots has been happening with him, but—“
I thought of how little I’d actually done, and weighed it with how much had
happened that I’d had nothing to do with. Things which he’d obviously told no
one about. “No, I think you’ve got it wrong. I didn’t… I’m just…“
Nana leaned closer. “I saw the look on his face when he told me go out front
and get you, honey. That’s a good look.”
When the door next to me opened and Levi summoned me back inside, I felt more
burden than excitement.
He was wearing a black robe that was tied loosely at the waist, and his face
was still pink and a bit splotchy from being washed. His hair, crushed and
misshapen by the wig, held a strange wave in place of the usual careful part
down the center. I thought it looked sexy, but I wasn’t about to tell him as
much. Sexy wasn’t where my mind needed to leap yet, not until I knew we were on
equal footing.
“I’m mad at you,” Levi greeted me.
“I’m pretty pissed off at me, too.”
“Do you want to know why I’m mad at you?” He tightened the sash around his
waist before taking the same seat as before.  
“This probably has something to do with me being a little shit.”
“You’re always a little shit. This doesn’t change that. But I want to know,
what was your take on it? What did you glean from what happened the other
night?”
I sighed deeply and wanted to go back to exchanging nervous smiles with Tirne
des Ailes the Vampire Slayer. “I talk too much and I assume more than I
should.”
Levi nodded. “Yeah, but what did you think about how I reacted?”
I didn’t expect to be asked that, so of course I had no answer. “I… I guess you
had every reason. I mean, I was being stupid.”
“No, Eren,” he was holding fingers against his cheekbones and was looking away
from me, toward the mirror. “I mean, yes you were being a little stupid, maybe,
but you were also fucking right.”
My heart bottomed out. Oh, god no.
He shook his head firmly and tsk-ed. At me? At himself? “But it’s all right.
You called me out on something toxic and I’m hell-bent on getting it out of my
system. So I got pissed off because I thought I’d already ruined that, and wow.
Shit. It felt like you’d stomped on my heart a few dozen times once I had
enough sober moments to think about it. So yeah. I’m mad at you. I’m mad at you
because I’m supposed to be older and wiser and—“
“Levi, I’m really sorry to interrupt, but if this is going to end in you
telling me to never see you again, I’d really rather leave now.”
With an empty, stunned look that took me by surprise, Levi sat in silence as
the next few seconds ticked by. “No,” he finally said, loudly and emphatically.
“What makes you – I can’t – wow, no. Fucking sit right there, you’re not going
anywhere.”
“Okay,” I mumbled, feeling a bit abject.
“Great, now you’ve thrown off my train of thought. Shit, whatever. This isn’t
going the way I imagined it would in my head, when I played out the whole
scene. Maybe I should get back in drag, but hell if I’m spending another thirty
minutes doing that.”
He fidgeted with his earrings when he wasn’t smoking, I noticed, and he kept
taking his fingernails away from his mouth like he was trying to break a
secondary habit as well.
“I don’t think conversations are supposed to play out the way we imagine.”
“Hn.”
“Well, for instance, I didn’t even think you’d ever talk to me again after we
first met. I had no idea I was going to kiss you that night we drove out to the
field--”
Like I’d suddenly popped the cork on some special reserve, Levi took that as a
cue. “I didn’t want to kiss you because I only liked the way he kissed me,
before. But then you kissed me, and it felt really good, and I was confused. I
was scared to fall for you because I wanted something I couldn’t have.”
I nodded, taking that in, remembering all my insecurities about being second
best, the vitriol I’d thrown at Jean. “So you couldn’t have it.”
“So I decided I didn’t wantit.” He glanced away quickly when I looked up in
shock. He’d have seen the disbelief apparent on my face if he kept watching me.
“I thought about it a lot, over the last couple of days. I know it wasn’t long,
but I’m not getting any younger and you’ll figure out you could get someone
much better than me if I let you go for too long…“
I didn’t respond and he may have taken it as a rejection of what seemed to have
been a half-baked declaration. I wasn’t in the mood for almost. I’d been
confused for over a month, and we were finally alone. “Hey.” Some time to think
had passed, and I had a thought. “Um. This might sound weird, but—“
“You always sound weird. Go for it.”
“When we were talking that one night, about sex. About bottoming and stuff? You
said you like it to hurt, and that’s because you’re fucked up.”
“Yeah,” he answered flippantly. “Trust me, you don’t want a footlong coming
anywhere near your ass unless you’re a special sort of masochist.”
“Yeah, but—“ I paused when I actually thought about what he’d said, and for a
frame of reference I put my hands up in quick measurement, looking incredibly
uncomfortable as I did.
“I’m exaggerating for comic effect,” he assured me softly, and leaned forward
to push my hands closer together. That simple touch worked magic in alleviating
a lot of the tension, just his hands on mine for a split-second, and I was
grateful. I was still a little flabbergasted, though, at the space between my
hands and the implication of that. Catching my expression, Levi laughed in his
throat. “Yeah, good luck trying not to look at Smith’s crotch next time you see
him.”
I gulped and tried to forget about that. I’d almost convinced myself that, by
the law of manhood, a new sports car and a massive penis couldn’t exist in the
same place, but apparently I was wrong.
“Go on!” Levi snapped the air in front of me, trying to break me out of my
grimace. “Go on, you looked like you were close to a breakthrough.”
“You like to get hurt.” I blurted it out as simply as I could, before I had a
chance to overthink it. “I think you might just be… I don’t know, addicted to
it. I mean in your heart, too.”
He thought about that, and tried to seem casual about doing so. Some eye makeup
was still stuck to his lids, making his lashes seem heavier than usual as they
fluttered together a few times. “I knew you’d go all poetic when I got you
hooked on Bauhaus.”
“It’s romantic, though. Like you said, you’re a romantic. Because when someone
hurts you, physically, you can say it feels good because the pain goes along
with something good, like with sex, and it just feels more intense and powerful
for that. Same for relationships, though, right? Same for emotions.”
I paused for a long time.
“Go on,” he almost but not quite sounded upset again.
“You thought I was unfair; stupid. You thought I hurt you because you say I
read you right. I was unfair, yeah. I was stupid, a little, but only because
you made being hurt sound so damned romantic in the first place.”
He gulped, not looking at me. I went on, a rush taking over as I realized I was
on a roll. “I thought I could never be as good as him for you, even if you were
hurting, so I didn’t want to even bother trying. Then you just kept coming for
me…”
“I was pining,”he interrupted bluntly.
“You don’t love him.” Half question, half demand.
Levi didn’t answer me, but honestly he didn’t need to. “This whole hurting
thing is layered, though. It hurt because he deceived me, and then I hurt more
because I didn’t know if the physical was worth never having the emotional. And
I met you, and I know how painful it can be to know someone who’s pining, so I
didn’t want to let you get close, but then you got close anyway, so I was mad,
so I decided to try you on physically and then… I felt guilty. Weirdly. So I
wanted to try you on emotionally. And you… you called me out. You fucking
called me out when I was ready to take that step, and it slapped me in the
face.”
He went quiet.
It was my turn to prompt him. Coldly. “Go on.”
“I respect the way you reacted.”
Respect was a word I never thought I’d hear from him.
A look passed between us, simply but unmistakably telling me that I wouldn’t
get such a strong assurance again. He glanced away.
“And no. I definitely don’t love him.”
There it was.
“I like you,” I said. “I want… someone to like me back. And I like you.”
It sounded so simple in retrospect, but I’d laid my soul bare. I felt sick to
my stomach while Levi’s eyes turned dark and his thin brows bowed in. “I’d make
a shitty boyfriend, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“If not that, then what else are we getting at?” I was getting agitated, and he
could sense it.
He sighed and closed his eyes slowly. “What does a boyfriend do?”
“Do you really want me to—“ the question felt too silly to answer, yet the way
he’d asked was so harsh that it begged some validation.
“What,” he cut me off, “does a boyfriend do?”
“I don’t know! I’ve never had one!”
“I’m actually asking you! You think mine have been normal in any way?” He shot
back, and then ran a hand up through his hair gruffly. His arms tightened
across his chest like Levi was trying to shrink into himself. “I have no
fucking clue what a relationship looks like and I don’t want to fuck you up in
that area before you’re even legal.”
“Well, I know what I want.” I was stubborn. I was determined not to let his
self-pity derail what we were both being so dodgy about.
“You already told me what you want. You want someone to like you.”
“That’s not all.”
“Tell me.”
“I want to bring you actual food at work, real food so you don’t have to eat
hot dogs and donuts every night. And I want to just be in the same room as you
and work on whatever I need to do for school, and just have you there. That
sounds like some real lame shit, but that’s what I want. Maybe I can’t pay for
your apartment or get you out of trouble – hell, I’m getting you introuble,
just being around – but I really want to be around.”
It took everything out of me to say what I said next, but I did it. Because I
realized I was in the rare position of not being too proud. “I’m sorry.”
Levi’s eyes flicked up at me immediately. My mouth kept running, and I said the
first thing that his challenging glare pulled out of me. “I’m sorry, okay? And
now that I’ve said it, you’re going to take me home tonight.”
A single eyebrow arched severely over that challenging glare, just as I
realized what I’d actually said.
“Glad to see you acting like yourself again,” he said.
***** Chapter 15 *****
Chapter Notes
     Look what I brought, everyone! It's smut~~!
     Also there's a Jean/Armin_Aside if you want some fluff as an
     aperitif.
     Thanks still for all the support, remember how awesome you are
     always.
I leapt to sexy at last. He said that and my mind forgot about all the other
bullshit, all the other obstacles, and I leap-frogged over Levi being
beautiful, being graceful, blunt, tactless, impenetrable; none of it mattered
as much in that moment. From where I sat, close enough to see his pupils dilate
slightly as we met eyes, he was just sexy. What I read in magazines or heard on
TV referred to as “animal magnetism”… that must have been it.
I’d been eaten up with worry for two days and hadn’t taken nearly enough time
to reflect on the memory of his lips around my dick. It made it very difficult
to concentrate on details like telling Mikasa I wouldn’t be riding home with
her.
“I figured on that,” she said, drinking a margarita that I later found out was
non-alcoholic. “Have a good night.”
Somehow her tone didn’t denote “good-bye,” nor did the way she was looking at
me. It was okay, my mind was already there. I sighed and cringed, looking away.
“Can we just forget the fact that you know I’m about to lose my virginity,
which is weird enough, and I’ll just Vulcan mind-meld the fact that yeah, I’m
gonna be careful?”
“Okay.” That was all she wanted to know. She let it go.
I hesitated at the door when I returned to it. I still didn’t feel confident
about walking right in when I obviously didn’t belong there, but as I hesitated
awkwardly I took a few steps in the direction of courage. Yeah, you do. They
know you. You were asked here, even.
Still, it was oddly exhilarating to step through a door marked NO ADMITTANCE on
my own, and a nervous smile started to pull at my lips while I walked back to
Levi’s dressing room.
My intentions were obvious when I reappeared, but he halted me. I noted that
he’d already gotten dressed. “Don’t kiss me until we leave,” he said, getting
close enough that it was my only thought, and damn him for stopping me. “If I
start kissing you now we’re not getting out of here, and I’m not about to let
this happen in a back room at the Bent Ducat. Got it?”
The fluttery smile came back as my doubt that Levi might not be on the same
page faded all at once. He caught it, and added, “Don’t look so pleased with
yourself.”
In his car, though, I couldn’t hold myself back. My hand wandered to his leg
despite a couple of half-growling protests, and I leaned up to almost land a
nervous kiss on his ear. He pretended not to be affected, and kept his eyes on
the road. Somehow, that only made me more determined to tempt his attention, to
prove that I knew what I was doing even though I really didn’t.
When my hand moved further toward the inside of his thigh, getting warmer, we
were halfway to his apartment. He suddenly pulled off the road and into an
empty parking lot. After throwing the car into park he turned toward me,
grabbed my wrist, and shoved my hand into his crotch. I felt the bulge swell as
he pulled me over, using his other hand to grab me by the hair. I liked the
feeling much more than I would have thought before I ever felt it.
“It’s really uncomfortable to drive with a chubby, so you need to stop being a
fucking tease and decide whether you want to risk jerking me off in a parking
lot or hold your goddamned horses until we’re on a soft surface so I can spend
at least one good load on your ass.”   
He started to hum the Final Jeopardy tune as I lost my capacity to think. Once
ableto think about it, I removed my hand and acquiesced until he let me sit
back.
“You’ll be hard anyway, just thinking about it,” I decided to throw in.
Levi chuckled deep in his throat and accelerated out of the lot. “Don’t test
me, kid; you’re dangerously close to losing it in the back seat of a Camaro.”
It didn’t sound entirely unpleasant.
I followed him upstairs and he walked in without holding the door for me. Levi
had never been particularly courteous in that way, but it was one of those
things I liked about him. Besides, he was wearing his leather pants and heeled
boots that night, and the view of him walking ahead of me was something I
didn’t necessarily want to lose. Once inside of his apartment, surrounded by
the smell of it that I recognized whether or not he’d been there long enough
for it to really be his, I closed the door gently, locked it, and started to
open my mouth.
He interrupted me before I could even speak. “Eren.”
Hearing him say my name gave me an indescribable rush. No one else had ever
said my name like that. Levi turned halfway toward me and shrugged out of his
coat, not necessarily striking poses as he did, although I may have been
projecting them onto each movement.
“Yeah?”
What was I expecting? I had no idea. He stepped over and hung the coat inside
of the closet right next to me, shooting me a cursory glance in the pause. “Do
you need to use the bathroom?”
“Uh—“
“That’s not me being curt. If you need to, please go now. You’ve never done
this before, so let me just ask it this one time.”
Though embarrassed, I thanked him inwardly for the tip, and barely suppressed a
disappointed sigh as I shuffled off. Through the door of the bathroom I heard
music start to play, and took advantage of the moments I had to get my thoughts
level.
I stole a little of his mouthwash while I was at the sink, as well, just to
make the best impression.
Eager to move past any awkwardness, I started talking before I’d even stepped
out of the bathroom completely. “So can I finallyget that kiss?”
I didn’t even notice the direction Levi came from, but he was on me
immediately, flattening me against the door and making it slam shut in the
process. My eyes flew open and I sucked in a breath through my nose once I was
well aware of his mouth on mine. Just like I had on the hood of his car I just
went with it, mirroring his energy and power.
My hand found his but he pulled it away after just a moment, instead groping up
my chest to push the flannel shirt off my shoulders. I didn’t say a word. I
just waited until the shirt hit the floor and latched one hand on the back of
his head. I rubbed my fingers against the grain of his shorter hair and hoped
it would have the same effect on Levi that it had on me. The move worked; he
groaned loudly and pulled back to nip at my bottom lip, holding my eyes.
I opened my mouth and moved quickly to envelop his, but he pulled back just
enough in a silent, overt tease. I tried it again, and again he dodged me. We
kept playing like that. Every time, my heart swelled with even more excitement
and my blood surged. Finally I just tightened my hand on his head and pulled
him closer, feeling only slight resistance before our lips crushed together
again and we gasped relief into each other’s mouths.      
I’d barely given a thought to Levi’s hands under my shirt, too concerned with
other things, but then his fingers brushed my nipples and I moaned into him. I
felt his lips smirk up before he smacked me with a quick kiss and breathed,
“Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.”
Locked on his targets, Levi clamped thumb and forefinger on both sides of my
chest and pinched. My back left the door and I arched toward him, twisting my
face, confused by the conflicting sensations. It hurt, but it was a good sort
of hurt that complemented my rising tension. I still felt the heat of his body,
the closeness of his breath on my neck, and just a gust of a laugh as he
reacted to my grimace. While he rubbed my nipples between his fingers, I didn’t
know what else to do. I was definitely sure I wanted him to have the best
access to my body, so I reached down to pull off my shirt.
Levi kissed me just as soon as I had it over my head, and for the first time
since I’d emerged from his bathroom he addressed me directly. “Who said you
could use my mouthwash?”
I just looked at him and rolled my eyes.
He pulled me away from the door and kept kissing me roughly as I was led in the
direction of his bedroom. “Come on, let’s get comfortable,” he said.
“No way I can be comfortable right now, I feel like I’m going in every
direction at once.”
“Oh yeah?” Levi challenged me with his tone, and we shared a small, slightly
clumsy dance as he turned me around. I almost knew what was coming, but I was
still just shocked enough to gasp when he pushed me back onto his bed. It was a
tall bed, a good bed, but it made for an awkward landing angle. I propped
myself up on my elbows and moved up onto it. Levi was looking at me as I did,
practically devouring me with his eyes. I could only imagine the sort of things
he was getting up to in his own mind, and I wanted to know every detail.
“Comfortable, isn’t it?” He finally asked, and I had to laugh.
His bed smelled good, like fresh laundry, and the sheets were softer than I’d
expected. Levi was serious about the most surprising things. “I guess so,” I
said, agreeing with a subtle nod to the side.
He took the opportunity to slip off his shirt before his hands went for his
studded belt. I couldn’t form words; he kept his eyes on me and slid the buckle
open, leather sliding against leather in the otherwise quiet room. “Come on,
talk to me,” he urged, dropping the belt on the floor. The heavy buckle made it
clunk where it landed.     
“Um…” What was I supposed to say? I just wanted to look at his body, to take it
all in, to really use the moments to consider what was going on, fearing I
wouldn’t remember it. “I want you.”
“That’s a good start,” he said. “Elaborate.”
I wasn’t expecting the third degree. “Oh, god, I don’t know. What do you want
me to say?” He was about to push his pants down, and then stopped. My brain
froze. No, don’t you dare stop there.
“What do you want me to do?” He prompted me.
“Take your pants off,” I pushed the words out with a deep breath.
He pushed the waistband just slightly past the natural curve of his waist,
taking his underwear along, lowering the fabric until I saw the very edge of
his pubic hair come into view. “Why?”
I wet my lips; I had to. My eyes wandered up to his face again, somehow. He
acknowledged the glance with a quick nod. “No, it’s okay, keep looking. You
know where you want your eyes to be, don’t think you have to be all polite.”
Thank God. My line of sight dove right back to his crotch, where he was still
pulling his pants down at an excruciatingly slow pace. His hips swiveled very
subtly with the movement and I whimpered. “Show me.”
“Show you what?”
“Show me your cock.”
He pulled them lower, using the tightness of the band that read Calvin Klein to
hold everything taut, showing me half of the swollen shaft held close to his
body. “God,” I gasped.
Levi tsked at me lightly, and when I looked at him I saw him shake his head.
“Look at you; a month ago you still thought you were straight. You want this,
don’t you?”
I filled up my chest with a long, mighty breath and closed my eyes momentarily.
“God, yes, I do.”
“You want me to fuck you.”
It was taking everything in my power not to tear my jeans off, or at the very
least reach down to adjust myself where my dick had gotten painfully hard
inside them. “Yeah.”
He met my eyes, squinted in something of a silent cue, and looked down at
himself as he rolled his hips up and pushed his pants completely down.
Thinking was not my first priority as Levi stepped out of his clothes and moved
up onto the bed to crawl over me. Breathing was something that seemed suddenly
difficult; how was I supposed to think, talk, combine the two and tell him all
of the amateur, instinctive filthy impulses running through my head?
He paused expectantly on his hands and knees, looking down at me with hair
hanging loose on the sides of his face. I felt the need to say something, no
matter how stupid it sounded. “I..” I tested whether my voice worked, at first.
“I feel like I could eatyou. I know that doesn’t sound sexy, but—“
“No, no, that sounds sexy. That sounds sexy as fuck.” He shifted his weight to
one arm and dropped the other hand to my stomach. I nearly jumped at the tickle
of his fingers over my navel. “Do whatever you want, get your teeth in me,
fucking eat me alive if you want.”
“I really want to get out of my pants,” I said, just as Levi tugged at the
waistband.
“Yeah, I was thinking these look a little tight.” He leaned down over me,
pressing half of his weight into my body, maneuvering the button of my jeans
apart with his fingers. At first he tried to nudge my chin aside, to kiss my
neck, but he’d told me to do whatever I wanted.
I wanted to taste his mouth again, so I took his hair in my hand and pulled him
over to do that. Though not quite confident enough to believe it completely, I
could swear I heard a gasp of pleasant surprise from Levi as we kissed.
Even as his hand stole into my jeans smoothly, I just pulled him closer, held
him tighter to my mouth, put all of it into that kiss. I’d known Levi was an
aggressive kisser from our one experience, but suddenly everything about him
matched. The possessive way he squeezed at my cock was enough to take my breath
away, rendering me light-headed as he jerked my pants off, first with his hand
and then by putting a foot between my legs to finish the job. It was sort of
awkward, but also showed me a glimpse of him I hadn’t seen before. He wasn’t as
concerned with the showmanship suddenly, I realized. Maybe this was him; the
real him?
I meant to direct him toward my crotch when I pushed his head down, but Levi
stopped far short of that, and by the time he clamped his teeth down on one of
my nipples I didn’t have time to control my reaction.
It wasn’t quite a word,that I cried out, but it was somewhere between “yes” and
a more standard “oh, god”; I mangled it regardless. His tongue laved me hard
where he’d bitten me, and I felt him breathe hot against the same spot.
“Do you like that?” He asked.
I nodded, then realized that he couldn’t see me nodding. Maybe he could feel
the gesture. Whatever the case, my dick was rubbing against his stomach and his
was rubbing against my thigh, and my nipple was harder than I’d ever even
knownmy nipples could get – hell, I didn’t even know my nipples could do
anything but simply be there– so I just croaked out, “Yeah,” and tightened my
fingers in his hair.  
“I like a man with a high pain tolerance,” he said cryptically, and I wanted to
make some snippy remark about how he’d pushed his foot into my crotch last time
we’d gotten radical so yeah, I had a feeling. Words, however; I was still
having trouble with how those worked. I just groaned for him again as his mouth
descended on the other side of my chest.
“Oh, god,” I was finally able to articulate, and my nipple felt like a fucking
pencil eraser under his tongue. I’m sure the way he rolled his body against my
cock helped, but somehow the way the two sensations combined made every synapse
in my brain fire on hell yes. “Don’t… go too crazy…”
He came up for air long enough that I knew he was looking at me. I opened my
eyes. He looked slightly disappointed. “Did you suddenly go all delicate on
me?”
I breathed out hard through my nose, feeling a bit like a caged animal. We’d
stopped moving completely for the moment. “No. I just don’t want to… you know…
I don’t know how much you mean by that. High pain tolerance.”
Levi moved up to my face and kissed me quickly. Returning to our former
momentum, he kept thumbing one tender nipple as he whispered in my ear. “I mean
I’d like to see how far you can go. I’ll stop if you tell me. But I don’t think
you will. When we decide to go that far.”
His voice left me drunk for a moment; so did what sounded like a guarantee of
future chances. Still in a blind haze, I found my lips moving, forcing out the
foremost thought on my mind: “Can I tell you something I want?”
“Absolutely you fucking can.” Levi grabbed my ear between his teeth and pulled
at it. I felt his nails scraping down my chest. I wondered how hard he fucked.
I wondered what it felt like, and just wondering made me lift my hips to push
myself harder against his body. He actually returned the friction, sighing in
concentration as he did.
I was determined not to feel foolish for saying it. “Can you, um… finger me, I
guess?”
“What, you mean fingerbang your ass? I was sort of going to do that anyway.”
“Well, I didn’t know!”
“Don’t get mouthy.” He growled into the next kiss and repositioned his body
until he was grinding his cock directly into mine. I may have choked a little
on my own breath, it felt so overwhelming. He pulled off of my mouth,
breathless himself. “No, I’m lying, please get mouthy like that. I’m going to
tell you the truth, that’s fucking hot.”
I wasn’t quite sure enough of what I was doing to order him around, not yet,
but I made the mental note nonetheless.
When I was silent for just a beat too long, Levi went on. “I get a request,
then.”
“What?”
“Get on your knees.”
“Do you mean, like… on my knees, suck your cock, or—“ He started to roll his
eyes and I cut myself off to exclaim in my own defense, “Because I’ll do that,
too! I want—“
“No, I meant literally get on your knees on this bed and put your ass in the
air for me. That’s what I mean.” It was something about the sarcastic way he
said it that made me chuckle in spite of myself. A sudden rush of not believing
it was actually happening ran through me; the effect was nothing short of an
out-of-body experience, but it was over quickly enough.
By that point I had assumed the position, as it were. Levi had moved off the
bed momentarily, noting that my lapse of common sense had been fortunately
timed. I thought about arching my back in a more seductive way, but just felt
silly about it. Left alone and exposed like that, however briefly, I felt silly
no matter what. I looked around for Levi and sat up on my knees just a bit to
find him.
He held up an empty box in one hand, just standing there naked and erect like
it was no big deal. “Hm. You’re lucky, kid. This is my last condom.”
I gulped slightly and glanced away, not particularly wanting to think about how
he’d exhausted an entire box of condoms before I made it to his bed.
“Now, then!” His borderline-cheery voice was a little jarring. I looked back in
time to see him toss a bottle of lube into the air and catch it in the same
hand. “Let’s go to work.”
“Somehow I imagined this more romantically,” I admitted, turning away from him
again to face his (admittedly impressive) collection of pillows at the head of
the bed.
“Oh, yeah? And I wound up not being the sentimental, frilly sort? What a
shock.” His voice got closer as he climbed back onto the bed behind me. Then he
paused. “Jesus wept,though, I have to admit you look sexy as fuck right now.”
I just cleared my throat and almost wavered on a chuckling, “Thanks.”
“You keep on looking like you do and I’ll make sure you can’t make it down the
stairs tomorrow morning,” he said, breath falling on the small of my back as he
leaned over me. “And believe me, you’re staying until morning.” I was about to
answer, to say whatever happened to spew out of my mouth, but Levi’s hand was
suddenly snaking up between my legs, fingers splaying over my balls and then up
the underside of my cock while he laid a long, claiming lick up my spine. At
that point my back arched in spite of my self-consciousness. Levi stole my
doubt and replaced it in seconds with the same ferocity that had been behind
our last few kisses. Moaning, I spread my knees a little wider on the bed and
his hand wrapped around my cock to stroke me a few times. He whispered in my
ear: “How’s that for romantic?”
The lube on his fingers felt positively unreal when he swiped them against me.
“Oh, wow,” I gasped before I could stop myself.
“Wow?” He sounded amused, in a sexy sort of way. “Feels good, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s… different.”
“What have you been using, then?”
“Um, Vaseline.”
I expected exactly what I got in return. “I’m sorry.”  
He had one finger inside me before he spoke again, while I was still breathing
hard into the feeling, open-mouthed while he twisted deeper into my body.
“Okay,” he deadpanned, “I’m going to need you to relax a little if I want to
even think of getting anything bigger in you. Not that the thought isn’t…
appealing, but…”
“How am I supposed to relax?” I panted back at him.
“Fair point.” With that he pulled out, and I was scared that I’d lost the game
until he slid back inside, slowly but firmly, with two fingers. Not knowing
what else to do, I just gritted my teeth and, at last finding my bearings,
pushed against him.
“Hm,” was his scant but intriguing reply.
“What was that for?”
“You rutting back on my fingers like a little whore.”
He was deeper than I’d ever been able to go on my own, certainly, and every
subtle jab or turn of movement made me whine in response as I got used to the
feeling. I’d forgotten, at least in the heat of that particular moment, how
long his fingers were.
“So,” he spoke up after what felt like minutes but may have only been seconds,
the way my brain was operating. “Still with me?”
I may have seemed dazed, at the very least, and probably had for some time. I
just nodded, hoping he took my whimper as an affirmative one.
“Good, because if you don’t particularly mind, I’m going to lose my goddamned
mind if I don’t—“
I suddenly interrupted him with a yelping moan, reacting to a sensation that
passed just as easily and quickly as it had registered. I pushed back hard into
his touch with another feinting cry, hoping to get back to that rush the way I
sometimes tried to go back to sleep to reenter a dream. “Oh,” Levi murmured,
suddenly beckoning inside me with questing intensity. “Shit, did you just come
a little? I can be persuaded to stay where I am, then.”
“No,” I said, knowing full well what I wanted. The brush to my prostate had hit
like a hammer, and made me realize what a live wire I was. I probably had just
come a little. My dick was practically throbbing to be touched. “No, go ahead.”
“Are you sure?”
In that instant he managed to hit me in the right spot once again, and it took
some effort not to press myself down to hump the mattress. I was woefully out
of shape, too – holding myself up was becoming a little difficult, considering.
“Yeah, you can fuck me now, I’m—“
Levi didn’t wait for me to finish my answer. He had me on my back before I knew
he’d even left me empty, and I slid my legs together just to revel in the
strange sensation of slickness inside my body.
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, looking beautifully
breathless, and nodded down at me with an explanation. “I’ve changed my mind,
I’ve gotta look at your face if I fuck you.”
I spread my legs around him and smiled gently, feeling quite pleased with
myself. This time he didn’t tell me not to make it so obvious. I saw Levi’s
chest rise with a deep breath before he leaned over me. Something about the
mood was suddenly off, and my mind raced to identify it just in case I’d made
the wrong move.
Then, right before I probably would have said something stupid, he spoke. “It’s
been a long time since I did this… like this… by the way.”
“How long?” I answered, unable to believe that he was nervous for any reason. I
started to rub his arm unconsciously, letting my fingers trace long, graceful
muscles where they found them.
He shrugged in his position and half-sneered. “Since I was your age, really.
Maybe a little later. Maybe I was eighteen, I don’t remember that well. But
I’ve been a career bottom for a long time.”
“That is a long time,” I breathed in deeply myself, but our voices stayed
fairly even. Low, secretive. I might have dared to call it an intimate moment.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he hastened to add. “I’m completely capable of railing
your ass into next week. I don’t make claims I can’t back up, but… it’s just
that this isn’t what I’ve been used to, for a long time.”
“I get it,” I answered, and even though I wasn’t sure if the gesture would be a
welcome one, I squeezed his lower arm in what I hoped would be a reassuring
gesture. “Look at it from my perspective. I have nothing to compare it to.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better, if that’s what you were just trying to do.”
“Shut up, you know what I meant.”
He tilted his head and waited, taking the opportunity to lower and bump his
hips forward just slightly, letting his cock nudge my ass. I breathed hard but
maintained myself, and our eye contact.   
“What could you have to feel nervous about?” I finally said softly. It was a
good outburst, for a change. “Look at you.”
“I’m not nervous,” he tried to defend himself, tossing his head and starting a
contentious sigh that fell off halfway. Then he looked back at me, and shook
his head, and pushed hard against me. It actually made me laugh. “Shut up.”
He chuckled inside of his throat while I laughed in giddy excitement beneath
him, squirming just a little. At least he’d managed to make me feel comfortable
in spite of what I didn’t know. I was almost convinced I was going to be a
zombie, seized by disbelief, by the time it happened.
“Here I am,” he went on loosely, as if to himself. “I’m about to commit a
crime.”
“Well, it sure as hell won’t be the first time.”
Levi almost gave a candid laugh; I saw him tremble into what was nearly a smile
right before he leaned in and kissed me, cock sliding on my ass but still not
pushing in. “You little shit,” he said breathily, tenderly between our lips.
Like it was a pet name. I guess it sort of was.
“I’m probably gonna come the second it’s in,” I confessed shakily, and felt him
chuckle against my skin.
“Well,” he hitched up his tone and my legs at once, reaching out with a blind
grope for the lube. “That’s the great thing about being your age, you’ve got
more than enough soldiers in reserve. We can keep this going until you tap
out.” He paused, and I heard him flip the cap on the bottle to accentuate his
point. “Trust me, I’m good for it if you are.”
He added: “Just keep in mind I have one condom, so we’ll need to get creative
after this.”
I did not, in fact, come the second Levi’s cock pushed inside of me. I was too
busy coming to terms with the fact that I felt like I was being cloven in half
to really think of it as erotic,but that changed soon enough. He wasted no time
in throwing himself into the task at hand, closing his eyes to concentrate
while I watched his face and tried to catch my breath on every thrust.
When he had his pace set and opened his eyes, told me in a gruff rumble to
touch myself; that’s when I knew I was going to explode. A few little quakes of
pleasure shot through me when I started to fist my cock, and it only took me
focusing for an instant to feel my whole body give in to the build-up. It was
his voice, it was always his voice, just the way he said things and made
everything I wanted curl up out from my depths of doubt and toward him.   
My abdomen clenched and I felt the workout catch up to me, folded just enough
between the bed and Levi’s hips to put a strain on my body. I tightened my legs
around him, ankles digging hard into the small of his back when I yelped and
came.
He started a few words, attempting to swear at me a couple of times while he
just kept thrusting sharply and shallowly. I almost wanted to give up, go limp,
just wheeze into the bliss of my orgasm and feel the fullness inside my body
moving with a quick, calming rhythm.
But, nothing ever being so easy, Levi spoke again. “Thought you were gonna
break my dick right off, you just got so fucking tight when you came.”
Only one response seemed appropriate. Then again, one response was exactly what
I was capable of: “God.”
“You don’t need to call me that.”
I pulled my hand away from my cock, which remained almost unbelievably hard in
the aftermath, and smeared my come on his chest. Levi just leaned closer to me,
closer, until I thought I couldn’t possibly curl beneath him anymore, and
kissed me.
He sucked on my tongue and grabbed it with his teeth, moved his mouth on mine
in slow, claiming pushes that I matched and did one better. The Cure, in the
background, on the stereo. We didn’t break the kiss until he pulled away with a
grunt and started to move more intently.
I was studying his face so carefully, because he looked so vulnerable and
focused, that I didn’t notice I was crying out softly on every thrust. Only
when Levi told me say something, anything, did I suddenly realize I had to
interrupt my unconscious little noises to do so.
“Feels good,” I gasped. That’s all I was thinking. Maybe he wanted me to be
wilder, more in control, more demanding. The last thing I wanted to do was
disappoint him, but I couldn’t be anything but what I was.     
Imagine my surprise when his head fell at my words and he let out a heavy,
blunt groan. He pushed hard into me and I grabbed the sheets, grimacing while
he went with the forward thrust of his body in one long, slow roll. He was
holding my legs and I was taking all of his weight; he was seemingly silent
until I caught the sound of a faint whine from his throat. Maybe that’s what
took my breath away, or maybe it was the fact that I could hardly breathe
anyway. Not until Levi let up and backed off, sitting on his knees to give me
just a few more erratic thrusts. I swallowed hard and wet my lips, looked
around even though I wasn’t really taking anything in, and let go of the
sheets.
After he pulled out of me, Levi let go of my legs and I let them fall heavily,
limply. The feeling was disorienting, to say the least, so I just lay there
blinking and breathing hard to get my head on right. He swayed just slightly on
his knees as he got used to the new center of gravity, knitting his brows for a
moment like he wasn’t sure where he was.
His shoulders rolled and he moaned contentedly before lifting a hand. Eyes
swept down and he touched his fingers to the spot where the come on my palm had
dried on his chest.
“Gross,” he said with a heavy sigh, before he fell over me for another kiss.
    
***** Chapter 16 *****
Chapter Notes
     I just didn't want this chapter to end, but pacing requires me to
     hold back that urge to describe every ensuing detail.
     Here you go, guys. A couple of questions answered, and then... oh no?
     OH NO READ ON AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS GO GO READ ON.
     P.S. This is the most I will ever feel the need to write about pee,
     thank you very much.
 
“Stop, no. Don’t! Stop!” I was laughing, which I couldn’t really help because
everything was suddenly funny and every inch of me was suddenly ticklish. I
wondered what time it was. The last I’d looked at the clock, it was 4:00a.m.
The sun wasn’t up yet, at the very least.
“No?” Levi mewled next to my ear, suppressing his own laughter even though his
tone gave him away. He managed to sound pitiful, mournful of my protests.
“Don’t have it in you, or…?”
“I’m just really tired,” I groused, and we wrestled horizontally even though
something so sexually charged probably didn’t qualify as wrestling. I managed
to get his hand off my balls, at least, but even that brief exchange left me
panting a little.
He kissed me before he fell off to the side, collapsed onto his back and blew a
raspberry. “Don’t give me tiredafter I just did that.” He was talking about the
blowjob, or maybe he was talking about fingering me whilehe gave me a blowjob,
which had also been appreciated.
I started laughing; I couldn’t help it, really. “It made me tired!”
Though I didn’t look over at him, I heard Levi let out a grumble that twisted
into something stranger and more comical somewhere in his throat. “I thought
this would be a lot crazier than it ended up being.”
I stopped laughing at that, and scoffed as I sat up. “Sorry to disappoint!”
Levi glanced at my naked lap first, and then up at my face. He was smirking,
but his eyes were wide in a way that made him seem very nearly on the edge of
apologetic. It was enough to calm me down. “You didn’t.”
“Well… good!” I lay back down and groped to find the blanket we’d thrown on the
floor a couple of hours ago along with most of the pillows. I’d been in a
perpetual state of almost, pre-, or post-orgasm since we’d come into the room,
it felt like. I hoped I’d kept Levi in the same condition, considering how hard
I’d worked and how much my jaw hurt, but then I thought about the years of
experience he had, how much more stamina as a result. I was just green. I’d get
better, and then if Levi wanted crazy I’d do everything in my power to give it.
For now, I was just tired,and tapped out, and aching in places I didn’t know I
could ache. Aside, even, from what I’d expected. My abs, my thighs. My arms
were still wobbly with tightness.
Levi reached over to grab a handful of my ass while I was leaned over the edge
of the bed grabbing for the blanket. I cried out and twisted to swat him away.
“No!” Like I was dealing with a pet. I hadn’t for one moment assumed the roles
would be that way.
“Oh, come on! I can’t help it!” Turned toward me, then, he was muffling his
face with the pillow. He hadn’t pulled his hand away, really; it had just gone
limp next to me, and I rolled over onto it, blanket in tow. “You get mean when
you’re tired, I see.”
“I’m not being  mean, I’m just—“
“Yeah, tired. I know.” He pulled his arm out fro, under me and splayed out on
his stomach. His head rested on his folded arms, and I didn’t really want to
offer him the blanket because it was, despite my exhaustion, a very nice view.
We studied each other in silence for a few moments. Levi lifted his hands.
“Come on, don’t be a—“ He traced a shape in the air.
I wrinkled my forehead. “Don’t be a box?”
He sighed and threw his arms out, landing face-down in the pillow again. “No,”
he lifted his head just enough to say. “Don’t be a square. It’s from Pulp
Fiction. You haven’t seen Pulp Fiction yet?”
“I’m not old enough to see Pulp Fiction!”
He just hissed, like he didn’t want to think about it. Everything went right
back to being funny, and I laughed.
“Fine, then. Goodnight!” He grabbed the blanket and turned over gruffly. I only
gave a short “aww” of disappointment that he’d covered himself up.
Then, Levi wiggled backwards to push himself into me. I tensed. He noticed.
“It’s your first time actually sleeping with someone, obviously. Trust me, it’s
pretty much always awkward, to varying degrees. You just learn to deal with the
awkwardness.”
“Where do I put my hands?” I asked softly.
Levi reached back to grab my exposed arm, and wrapped it around his body like a
coat. I wondered if he could feel my heartbeat as it got faster the closer we
slid together.
“What about my other arm?”
“Yeah, that’s the awkward part. Little spoon always wins.”
“What?”
He sighed. “Spooning, what we’re doing right now is called spooning, and it’s
lame and cuddly but it’s also fucking comfortable so… big spoon, little spoon.
Do you get the imagery? ‘Haha,’ I know. You know what, explaining everything to
you gets old.”
“Would you rather I learn from someone else? God, you’re mean when you’re
tired, too.” He didn’t really mind explaining things to me, and I knew it.
“I’m not tired, I’m just always mean.”
I couldn’t argue against that. I decided to uncurl my other arm, letting it lay
flat under the pillow and hang halfway over the head of the bed. At least
Levi’s headboard was slatted. My arm fit nicely through the space, and only my
fingers touched the wall.
Saying goodnight wasn’t an option until I reconciled the fact that his ass was
fitted directly against my crotch, right in the curve of my hips. Pretending,
probably, to be squirming into a more comfortable position, he rubbed back
against me.
I tried. I really, really tried, because I really, really was tired. I thought
about Armin and Armin’s grandfather and Mikasa when she had on her bright
orange Garden Botanica mud mask at night. I thought about spiders. I thought
about cleaning burned lasagna out of a metal baking pan. Anything unsexy. But
nothing worked.
After a minute or two, Levi broke the silence, smiling into a mumble. “You
liar.”
“I can’t help that!” I gritted my teeth and leaned my forehead into his hair.
“I’m sorry!”
“Oh, no, trust me. You don’t need to apologize.”
He kept moving, rolling his ass into my cock as it got undeniably harder. It
was almost painful, and it took my breath away, so I just panted and let the
breath fall on the back of his neck. “That’s sexy, feeling you breathe on me
like that.” He kept his voice in that teasing mumble.
I put my free hand on his hip. Levi moaned in appreciation and bumped harder
against me until I was forced to counter him with pushes of my own just to stay
where I was. The friction felt great, actually; even though I was almost sure I
wasn’t going to come again so easily.
To pull attention away and beg a little bit of mercy, I slid my hand down and
pulled at Levi’s cock instead. Over his shoulder, as I drew my other arm in for
a bit of leverage, I glimpsed the clock. It was just after 6:00a.m. and the sky
was lightening outside of the window. My arm burned with protest at the
continued workout and I let my head collapse into the crook of Levi’s shoulder,
attaching my lips to the skin.
“Come on, get your adrenaline out now.” His voice went rough and demanding
suddenly. “We can sleep after this, but not until you get me off one more time.
Your dick’s ready and you can’t even keep up? Come on, I fucking want you to
make me come.”
I knew it was a tactic, but it worked. I opened my mouth on his shoulder where
it had landed, and bared my teeth on the skin, squeezing his cock as I did. I
felt Levi arch into me, throwing his body into a severe curve as he growled at
the attention. “Yeah, that’s right, you want me just like this, don’t you?”
I couldn’t deny that the idea was suddenly at the top of my wish-list. As my
cock kept sliding in the dry heat between Levi’s asscheeks, the whole situation
taunted me with the fact that I couldn’t have him like that, not right now, for
so many reasons. Focused and speechless, I just tugged harder at him and
breathed out with a grunt.
“When I said I’ll bet you can fuck all night,” he started like a confession,
and I wasn’t sure if he was still just riling me or actually opening up. “I
meant in a lot of ways. Fuck, if we had what we need I’d tell you to put it in
me right now. Fuck… fuck… I want that cock.” He was losing his breath as well.
“Shit, I feel light-headed, you mean business.”
He didn’t tell me to calm down, though, so I didn’t. I was grinding on him by
then, holding his ass firmly on my dick with the hand I’d snaked beneath him.
He was gyrating in tight, obscene little circles and my own head spun on how
quickly he could go from stern and sarcastic to a sexual force of nature. My
hand was moving the way I usually reserved for those frantic moments when I
heard Mikasa getting home or needed to just get it out of the way so I could
finish my shower and get to school. I felt like I didn’t have any control over
my own muscles. The blanket trapped our body heat in a pocket of warmth that
moved with whooshing rhythm as I worked beneath it. I bit into his shoulder
again, closer to the neck, and I sucked on the spot. Levi gasped and took in a
twitching, hissing breath, obviously pleased and obviously surprised by my
intensity.
I had to admit, though, I was pretty surprised as well.
“Are you markingme, kid? You want everyone to know I’m yours?”
The hand I had on his hip drew up to the fingertips and I pressed my nails into
the skin. “Yeah.”
He gulped; I heard it right next to my ear.  
“Fuckin’…” He started, and then bucked hard against my hand, losing his rhythm.
He cried out louder than I’d heard yet, and I raked my fingernails where they
were. He swallowed that cry with a sharp whine, then, and came.
I just held on to Levi as he settled, muttering things about me that were both
sweet and unmentionable. It was like a lewd lullaby that helped me ease out of
my own excited state. I don’t really remember falling asleep. Levi slipped away
to use the bathroom. In the brief respite I must have taken the opportunity to
drift off compeltely, and by the time I opened my eyes again it was mid-
afternoon and Levi was breathing slowly and evenly with his back turned to me.
Fascinated by the sight of his tattoo right in front of my eyes, I lifted my
fingers sleepily to trace the wings, hovering just above the warmth of his
skin. I wanted to feel out the bumps of his spine that I could see outlined
from the curve he’d tucked himself into, but I didn’t want to wake him.
Panic nearly took over, because for a moment or two my brain wanted to refute
everything and pretend, as it tended to, that I wasn’t good enough for a good
thing. Even though I didn’t give in to that feeling, I still couldn’t get back
to sleep. I grunted as softly as possible and shifted up to curve back around
him. The spot I’d left on Levi’s neck was bright red. I smiled at it as I
blinked into full consciousness, and wondered how long he was going to sleep.
Though I didn’t want to wake him, I also didn’t want to leave him alone to wake
up without me. Either way, I had to piss so bad that I finally understood the
phrase “my back teeth are floating.”
I walked to the bathroom and didn’t even think twice about simply taking myself
in hand and going for it. I somehow managed to forget that I’d fallen asleep
after coming twice (or maybe once more? My memory was slightly blurry) in
succession. My piss forked off with the power of a full bladder behind it,
arcing onto Levi’s fabric shower curtain. I just stared at first, actually
feelingmyself go pale with mortification. Trying to right the trajectory didn’t
work, either. And that’s how I wound up pissing all over Levi’s bathroom right
after we spent our first night together. It wasn’t even worth it to think about
my mistake, only what I was going to do to fix it.
I crept back into the bedroom, found my clothes, and hurried across the hallway
just as quickly. Cleaning up after myself (not to mention cleaning myself) was
handled quickly enough, but once I got out of his shower I realized I had
little choice other than to take the curtain clean off and stick it in the
washing machine. I left the clear liner up and huffed out of the room with the
thing wadded under one arm.
Levi was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, eyes lidded with drowsiness,
waiting for me to leave.
“I…” I started, and couldn’t figure out how to explain myself, but he just
stood there blinking sleepily and scratching his bare stomach. He paid little
mind and stepped up to push me out of the way gently before stepping into the
bathroom and shutting the door behind. 
By the time he emerged in a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and little else, I was
staring at the washing machine like I expected the load to be finished within
moments.
“Okay,” he started. “Good morning, first of all. Now what the hell are you
doing with my shower curtain?”
I glanced over in time to see him draw onto his toes to pull a bowl down from
the top shelf of his cabinet. In the move his shirt rode up his back, and I
noticed he was wearing black satin panties. I pushed back a momentary wave of
confusion to chew on my thumbnail as I answered, “I pissed on it so I’m washing
it.”
He stopped dead in the center of the kitchen and stared at me, empty bowl still
in his hand.
“What.”
Maybe I should have explained myself first. I waved my hand in the air and
sighed. “I didn’t clean up last night and I just…”
“Round jammed in your barrel, had some misfire action going on? I get it.
Still, this is nothow I expected our morning after to be.” He shook his head
and turned to the refrigerator. “Do you want waffles?”
“I could eat some waffles, yeah.”
After a few moments he spoke up, hidden by the fridge door with only his little
satin-clad ass poking out. “Scratch that, I don’t have milk. Well, I have milk
but it’s… questionable. Do you want eggs?”
“I could eat anything, really.”
Levi straightened up and leaned back slowly from the door to look at me when I
said that. He smirked.  
“Oh, you knowwhat I meant!”
“The invitation is still open.”
Easy silence took over the slow process of waking up. After a few minutes I
walked into the kitchen and leaned on the counter to watch him frying up our
breakfast. “Do you wear panties a lot?”
He shrugged, focused on flipping the eggs. I didn’t like my eggs over easy, but
I wasn’t about to tell him. Maybe I’d learn to like them that way. “When I feel
like it. At home, more than out. They’re comfortable. Looking at my ass, then?”
“Um, yes. Of course. It’s just…” I took a deep breath and realized that I was
at a disadvantage no matter what. “Are those the same ones you wore the other
night? When I came over?”
“The same. Why’s that important?”
“I just thought you gave those to me, is all.” I mumbled, a little ashamed as I
admitted it.
Levi sat the spatula down and rocked back, holding the oven door handle as
leverage. He looked up at the ceiling while the eggs sizzled. “You didn’t empty
out the pockets of those jeans, did you?”
“I was too sad. I thought we’d broken up or something.”
He made no remark on that, just shook his head in amusement and added, “You
thought I gave you a pair of unwashed panties, though. Now who’sthe kinky one?”
“The fact that I thought so says a lot about you, actually.”
The shrug he gave suggested that he didn’t quite disagree with the assessment.
“Nah, that’s not my style, unless you want me to.” Levi returned to the eggs.
“I gave you a fucking garter belt. Now it sounds cheesy. Fuck you for making me
say it. Don’t just stand there looking cute, the bread’s right there, put some
toast in, make yourself useful.”
I did as I was told, smiling the whole time. “A garter belt, you mean like the
ones girls wear to prom? Like, the sort guys hang up on their rearview mirror
to show off the fact that they have a girlfriend?”
“Yeah. One of those. It’s one of Tirne’s, I sewed it myself. It’s got, like…
little wings on it and everything. Go nuts, show off.”
A surge of pride rushed through my body, making me feel a little more awake and
a lot more excited to leave Levi’s house for my own. As I waited for the bread
to toast I let my mind wander, and started thinking out loud before I realized
it. “Well, now I definitelyhave something to show Jean.”
“What? Jean, that friend of yours? Why would he care?”
“Just…” In the middle of the sentence I remembered that Levi didn’t know. I
remembered that it was something I’d been warned against, but there I was still
not learning from conversations and past mistakes. “You know. To prove I have a
boyfriend, is all. Someone who likes me.”
“Yeah, I guess you do.” He slid over a plate with two eggs on it, but by the
time the toast popped up I wasn’t even paying attention. I should have been
overjoyed to hear him say that, but I felt gut-punched with worry instead.
“Ground control to Major Eren, can you please get your toast so we can sit down
and eat?” He moved past me and brushed my shoulders with his fingertips.
I ate in silence, and only nodded when Levi asked if I’d like some coffee as
well. “I make a pot ready to brew when I go to sleep, usually, so I don’t have
to think too much in the morning, but I didn’t get the chance last night. Give
me a minute.” He left half of his eggs and toast behind, and while he was in
the kitchen I turned over several warring thoughts, all of them unpleasant to
varying degrees. Wringing hands between my knees, I knew my appetite was gone
no matter how furiously my stomach was churning on its own juices.
“I can’t help but notice you got really quiet all of a sudden.” Levi set the
coffee to brew and re-entered the small alcove called the dining room. He sat
down next to me but didn’t go right back to eating his breakfast. Was he
worried as well? Had he been waiting for the other shoe to drop all along?
Why did I make that stupid bet?
“Anything you want to say?”
“Yeah.” I took a long, hard breath until my chest ached with a pang of anxiety,
and shook my head. “Look, you’re gonna be mad at me. You might be so mad at me
that…” I couldn’t finish that. I couldn’t look at Levi. I just wet my lips and
went on. “I may have done something really stupid but I promise it wasn’t about
you.”
“Eren, what’s wrong?” Levi’s voice had dropped to that steely flatness I could
only assume was his emotionless core, the center of strength where he retreated
way too often. I desperately didn’t want him to stay there on account of me.
“I made a bet with Jean. That I could get laid, lose my virginity before the
end of the semester. If I won, he’d make the down payment on my car.” 
The silence made me want to vomit. I sat my fork down and the clatter was the
only sound in the room.
Levi finally spoke. “What if you lost?”
Would I gain more sympathy if I lied? No. I couldn’t. Levi hadn’t been given
the courtesy of honesty for far too long. “Nothing, really. Just wounded
pride.”
“So… you met me after you made that bet?”
“Yeah. Well, the day of.” I felt so ashamed. Tears were welling up in my eyes.
I was scared, and sorry, and I wanted to say so much more than I could manage
to put into words. “But it’s not like that! I didn’t go in thinking I was going
to meet someone like you! I didn’t even go in thinking I’d like you at all,
much less do it with you because… you know…” It didn’t feel right to shut up,
no matter what my mouth cobbled together from all the thoughts in my head. I
finally looked at Levi through teary eyes, and he just watched while I ranted
on. I remembered what Jean said. Suddenly he made sense. “It’s just this stupid
thing, and you weren’t a part of that! And I guess I would have told you, but
everything moved so fast. Like, one minute I was crying right over there and
the next you were sucking my dick and the next we were fighting, and then we
made up and I didn’t have time to even think about it! If I’d brought it up
before it would have been all weird, because even though you offered, sex
wasn’t all I wanted. I guess. I mean… yeah. Oh god. Just say something, I feel
sick.”
I sniffed hard and dragged my knuckles over my nose, wiping them on my pants
while I waited for Levi to speak. I looked at him but he was turning away, one
hand raised to cover his mouth. Maybe he was making some sort of noise, but I
was too caught up in the echoes of my heart throbbing in my own stuffed-up
head.
He leaned over the table and crossed his arms, burying his face in the hollow
as his shoulders began shaking. Was he actually so overcome that he was
sobbing? I was alarmed, to see him racked so suddenly with emotion. It actually
snapped me out of my own fit, and I reached over to touch his back.
“Levi, I—“ My voice trembled. I was going to ask if I should leave. Seeing him
in pain because of me, again¸wasn’t something I was ready to face.
As soon as I touched him, Levi lifted his head. Or, rather, he threw it back,
and howled with a laugh that turned into a wheeze. He went on cackling and I
recoiled, agape and actually a little terrifiedby the unexpected sight. When he
composed himself enough to speak, it was only barely.
“You… are so cute!” He managed between bouts of laughter. “Oh my god. Marry me.
Oh god. Eren. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m laughing because you’re crying, but—“ He
stopped to suck in a breath, and grabbed his stomach. By that point he was
speaking more easily, at least. “Oh my god, you’re so worried! Fucking stop;
that is the cutest story I’ve ever heard, and you’re so serious. What is this,
a fucking John Hughes movie? You actually made a bet about that? Wow!”
He paused long enough to give me a window of opportunity to ask, “You aren’t
mad?”
“Why would I be mad at you for that? We’re still gonna bone and some dupe’s
buying you a car!” He clapped his hands, applauding the entire situation, and
then stopped suddenly. His tone went drastic. “We’re still gonna bone, right?”
I just nodded, quite serious about that part though I was still wavering on
understanding what was going on.
Levi leaned toward me. His hands came out and landed on my shoulders. “Look at
me,” he said.
So I did, and his face transformed. The remnants of laughter kept tugging at
his features, and in between it all his mouth broke into a grin. It wasn’t
Tirne des Ailes’ grin, perfectly made up and practiced, flawless like the cover
of a magazine. Levi’s face was still a little red from his excited outburst,
the part of his bangs was messy, and I could see the imperfections in his
complexion. The strangest part was his eyes, how they narrowed in a way that
was a direct counterpoint to his usual stoic squint. He looked like he wasn’t
sure which emotion he wanted to get across, but it didn’t make any difference
to me. As long as he was grinning, looking at me, my whole body felt
weightless. As long as he was pulling me closer, saying, “Good thing you’re so
pretty when you cry,” and kissing me, I was absolutely satisfied.
It was like he told me a secret, and I knew him just well enough to realize how
precious that was.
When our lips parted, I said, “He’s not buying me the car, actually. And I have
to wait to get a job. I’ll be making payments, he’s just—“
“I didn’t mean it literally,” Levi said, leaning into one hand on the table and
shaking his head at me from the angle. “You call me out on my exaggerations so
often, it shocks me that you do poorly in school. I’m not sure, but I think
that’s a turn-on.”
“I’m sorry, I’m really still trying to figure out what just happened.”
Levi finally picked up his fork again. He didn’t eat his toast with his hands,
I noticed. He tore off a bit at a time with the fork and matched it to a bit of
egg, eating as meticulously as I might have figured. I realized it was our
first meal together. There was still so much to observe, so much to learn. “You
overreacted, but that’s okay because the fact that you did tells me a lot.”
He blinked at me a couple of times, slowly, but I had nothing to say. I felt my
face getting hot, because I felt suddenly embarrassed, and I kept casting
silent, sidelong glances as I tried to pick up by fork. I was still starving,
after all.
“Did you… um…” I started, blushing by that point. “Did you say you wanted to
marry me?”
He glanced away again, hiding another snorting laugh. “Yeah, it’s definitely a
turn-on when you call out my exaggerations.”
I shoveled two forkfuls of eggs into my mouth and gathered my thoughts as well
as I could. “You look really…” I changed my tack halfway through. “That is, I
like seeing you smile.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he chuckled, and got up to pour the coffee.
***** Chapter 17 *****
Chapter Notes
     I really have nothing to say except hooray for Levi voice, hooray for
     some more smut, hooray for Erwin because idegaf I love him, hooray
     for you guys because you're dope as shit.
     If the plot seems to be thinning out here, realize that there was
     never much of a plot in the first place and this was all about a
     relationship getting off the ground, so now there are some other
     things to think about in Eren's life in general. Out of curiosity,
     what would you guys like to see? Because 1994 is just fun to write,
     at the end of the day, and I like to indulge as much as anyone else.
     I've got a Yumikuri aside in progress, and this other one that's
     just... it's just pure crack so I'm holding that one close to my
     chest considering I may never finish it.
Levi
Just because I don’t tend to say much about them doesn’t mean I’m completely
ignorant of the little things as they happen. Weeks passed in the blink of an
eye and I definitely noticed that Eren was acting differently. It was a good
thing, but I worried at first whether seeing a boy who was actually optimistic
and satisfied to a certain degree would skew my attraction. He dug his heels in
and seemed determined to do something; just what, I was unsure, whether it was
impressing me or impressing himself. It actually wound up being perfectly
tolerable to let him into my apartment carrying a backpack weighed down with
books on some evenings, to watch him doing work, and then to hear him ask me
questions or blurt out factoids here and there while I tended to my own boring
business. When there was no business to tend to, I tended to anything that
would let me stay close enough to feel his presence in the adjacent space. He
started to go home earlier, started to sleep earlier, and in a probably-
subconscious agreement I did as well. I found myself legitimately looking
forward to wrapping up my show on Saturday so I could meet him back home, where
he was spending another night. He learned where to find things in my kitchen. I
indulged him in a phone call for the first time, though I ended it with “I hate
the phone, can I just say goodnight and get it over with?” Sex became easier,
his stamina more reliable as the particular athletic requirements of the act
burned into his muscles, though opportunities to practice were surprisingly
scarce.
“I got a B on my last English test,” he told me, almost sheepish about saying
it, when he came to visit me at work on a Wednesday evening.
I crossed my arms and leaned forward on the counter. I must have looked
confused, because he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Is that good or bad? I can’t
figure out why you just said it that way.”
“It’s the best grade I’ve gotten on anything this year. In longer than that,
really.” He gave me one of those shrugs that indicated how desperately he was
trying to seem cool and detached.
“Hey. Hey, look at me.” He did. “That’s fucking phenomenal. I’m really proud of
you. Now keep it up, you little shit.”
Holding actual, proper emotions in my mouth and letting them out was still a
bit off-putting for me, but I managed it. They felt like novacaine that numbed
me momentarily whenever I tasted them. Maybe Eren noticed the little things,
too, though, and appreciated effort more than aptitude.
However, I was still me. “I can’t give you another free drink, though.”
There was a lot to be said for effort. In the last week of September, Eren got
a part time job at a gas station two blocks down from the donut shop. It was a
little family-run, full-service outfit that liked to support the kids in the
neighborhood, so it seemed like it might work out well for him. He got to do
his homework when it was slow at night, which it almost always was. They also
gave him a striped, button-up shirt with his name embroidered on a patch, and
for some reason that thing turned me on so much that I had him keep wearing it
the next time I fucked him. I never knew an oil-smudged blue collar work shirt
could give me a boner, but there I was.
Sometimes, as the weeks passed into a month and I wondered how hours and days
disappeared so quickly, I’d see someone at the bar or at work, catch his eye or
let my gaze sweep his body, and I’d be struck by the cold feeling that I wasn’t
allowed to do that anymore. It was terrifying, at first, the dread that I might
slip, I might get irresponsible, but then I learned to replace the feeling with
another one; it wasn’t that I couldn’t do that, anymore, it was that I didn’t
need to.
I was invited to dinner on the 7th of October, and not by my boyfriend. I
received the invitation via a message on my answering machine and I played it
for Eren when he visited that afternoon. Then I asked him how okay, on a scale
of 1 to 10, he would be with me actually going.
“Like, around a 5,” he admitted in a mumble. I’d actually expected less.
“Yeah, that’s about where I am on it, too,” I said, looking at the answering
machine with a scowl as I scratched the back of my neck. I’d cut the ugly
elastic banded cuffs and bottom off an old black sweater and was wearing that
around the house now that it was getting colder. Eren’s eyes were still going
straight for the strip of exposed skin on my belly every time I lifted my arms.
Being ogled was, at that moment, actually low on my list of priorities.
“He said he needs to tell you something. Do you think…” Eren had no idea how he
was going to finish that question, so he just trailed off on it. He wanted to
ask if Erwin was insinuating a reunion. A romantic reunion. I highly doubted
it. That was actually the least worrisome of my scenarios. I didn’t divulge any
of the more worrisome ones to Eren.
“It’s going to drive me crazy if I don’t go. I don’t know, I hope it’ll be like
closure or something.”
He looked at the TV, nodding. “That makes sense. I mean, if you want to, then
go.”
“I don’t wantto, ass. Don’t sound so melancholy about it, I’m not going to
dinner so I can bend over the table, okay?” I wasn’t in the mood, and of course
that had nothing to do with Eren. I grabbed my can of Sprite and walked back
into the living room, where I fell into the chair next to him. He hadn’t really
reacted yet. I waved my hand in front of his face. “Got it?”
“Well, you asked me how I felt about it, and I told you.”
“Isn’t your friend having a party that night, anyway? For Homecoming, or
whatever?”
“Yes. How is that relevant?”
I ignored how testy he sounded. If I called him out on it, it would mean a
fight. We were already very good at those. Little ones, mostly, over our own
attitudes. He was learning to rise to my taunts, and I was learning to just
avoid the headache when he did. “Nothing, just that you’ll be up anyway so if
you want to meet me when I’m done with dinner I can cancel my show that night
and I’ll let you conduct a thoroughexamination of my person, to your
satisfaction.”
He flung the book out of his lap and fell back into the chair, covering his
face with his arms. He growled. I took the opportunity to roll my eyes while he
was too busy being dramatic to see me. “That’s not it! I don’t actually think
you’d cheat on me, just…”
I waited for him to continue, and held my palms up at him when he peeked at me.
“Do you still like him?” He asked, muffled by his own bicep.
“The word likeis a really weird one for me, unless it comes down to certain
people, and he’s definitely not one of them.”
Eren threw his arms up at that and scoffed. “You know what I mean, Do you… you
know… want him?”
Not seeming even a bit hesitant was crucial. “No.”
But oh, that was a thorny subject. I lived my life in a state of constant
desire for things, and it didn’t matter if those were things I had or things I
wanted, things too good for me or things that would leave me in pieces. Acting
on desire was a completely different thing, since Eren, but the human fact of
desire? The fact that I would probably never feel less than attracted to Erwin
Smith, even if the action was completely removed from that? How could I have
told him the truth and ever expected him to walk through my door again?
Maybe it was a vengeful sort of desire, the sort that hoped Erwin would never
be happy or he’d remember me in the most hopeless, lonely moments, that maybe
he closed his eyes and thought about me every time he fucked his poor, precious
wife. Whatever sort of desire it was, there was nothing else making my throat
clench a little when I thought about dinner with him and worried about whatever
he needed to tell me.
“Come here?” I asked and urged Eren carefully, reaching out a hand to touch his
elbow. Eventually he rolled onto me and we made out until he needed to be at
work. We could only steal moments, as of late, and I didn’t want all of them
being clouded by tension. I walked him to the door and made my goodbye kiss
purposefully more slow and intense than usual.
“You’re still pouting,” I pointed out when the kiss obviously wasn’t enough.
“I just feel weird. Because you two have a history and everything.”
“Eren,” I didn’t want to alarm him, not exactly, but I also had to put things
in perspective. “If you want history, you talk about me and Hanji. If you want
weird, I can mention three other people I’ve fucked that you know and have met
at the Bent Ducat. Probably ones you wouldn’t expect. The fact is – are you
listening to me? Because you seem like you don’t want to hear this.”
“I’m listening.”
“The fact is: I’m with you. Okay? There you go. If you were gearing up for me
to give you some awkward speech about relationships and trust and how I can
talk to whomever I want and at least I’m being decent enough to tell you –
which is also true, but dickish – that’s not it. It’s just… I’m with you. Hm?”
He finally looked me in the eyes again, but only for a moment. 
“Okay.”
“Have a good night at work.”
He almost said “you too,” and caught himself just in time. I saw him start to
laugh, at least, before he left. Even if it was an embarrassed laugh, it helped
me to feel like I hadn’t fucked that up completely.
I let anxiety overtake and guide me through the afternoon leading up to dinner.
The most worrisome of possibilities kept returning to me, over and over again:
I’d given him something, or vice versa. What, I had no idea, because I
certainly didn’t seem to have anything to worry about. Still, I’d been avoiding
doctors like the plague for years, and Erwin and I had only bothered with safe
sex half the time, if even that. Anything was possible. And worse than the idea
of an STD itself was the massively unpleasant prospect of explaining it to
Eren.
I told Erwin on the phone that I had absolutely no preference on where we ate,
adding that I might not have much of an appetite. He picked the Olive Garden. I
asked if he was worried we might be seen. “What’s to worry about?” He replied,
and so I just asked if he’d be paying (he would) and told him I’d show up at 7:
00.
My eyes went directly for his left hand as he approached, and sure enough he
was wearing his ring. At the last moment I decided not to let the fact go
without remarking on it. “I’ve never seen you wear that before.”
“Hello,” he answered, tone already sarcastic. A flustered look on his face, he
lifted his hand. It was a plain gold band. I almost sneered at it, but just
nodded curtly instead. Maybe it was going to be an interesting evening, after
all. He didn’t seem grim, at the very least. Just put-upon, which probably
wasn’t unusual when he didn’t have the luxury of trading on his sex appeal.
And that was it, really, I noticed as we made it through the cursory stages of
dinner; being seated, looking through the menu, waiting for our drinks,
ordering, and making small talk between steps. He seemed like a different
person, and not in the way Eren seemed different. This was a big change, a
monumental shift that was less definitive the more I felt it.
We didn’t have the fallback of sex, the fallback of flirting. We couldn’t
retreat into physicality the minute a conversation became too overwhelming or
too alarming, and so we were treading lightly. The great thing about the weeks
I spent with him, the intoxicatingthing about the weeks I spent with him, was
the fact that at the drop of a hat I could turn all of my emotions into
actions, having him fuck me until I didn’t feel the pain they inspired, for
even a few minutes. So then we talked about something else. Even when we met in
broad daylight, to finish the paperwork for my apartment or to discuss work, I
was always saving something up for the next time we were naked and speaking in
scraping nails and bruising handholds. My physicality was a defense. It kept me
from letting go of too much. His was an offense. It kept him from ever having
to show me how little we really had in common, and it kept me talking to that
end.
It wasn’t Erwin’s fault, just like my shitty moods weren’t Eren’s fault and his
shitty moods weren’t my fault, and it still wasn’t anyone’s fault that I was
still attracted, at the basest level. But I put on a smirk when I realized, for
all of the stalling, that this wasn’t about our health, and knew I wouldn’t let
go of it for the rest of the meal. When he didn’t have the sex, and I didn’t
have it to look forward to, he was just another boring person.
I ordered a bottle of wine. I asked him what he was going to drink. “Water,” he
informed me.
A few minutes and not one word later, I swirled the first glass in my hand and
was about to sip from it when Erwin said, “Petra’s pregnant.”
I was silent for a long time. I sipped from my wine and sucked it noisily
between my tongue and teeth to spread the taste over my palate. The bitter
taste matched the shift of my mood. “I’m assuming that’s your wife.”
“Yeah.”
There was a group at a nearby table having a raucous time of it, apparently in
the middle of a birthday celebration or somesuch. It drowned out all the little
punctuation sounds I might have used, like my wine glass hitting the table or
my silverware clanking together as I pulled my napkin out.
“How do you feel about that?”
“Honestly? I’m sort of terrified.”
“That stands to reason,” I answered, keeping my eyes down as I reached over to
help myself to a breadstick. If I was going to get anything out of the evening
after he dropped a bomb like that, I was going to get a good meal. Erwin Smith,
father. It didn’t sit well with me. School administrator was one thing, but
knowing what I knew about him, his secret proclivities, knowing the things he’d
said to me, the things he’d done to me, feeling all of those memories come back
at once… “Please tell me you’re going to stop fucking twinks in shitty bars
pending fatherhood.”
He leaned forward with his palms up, looking around like I’d shouted it for the
entire dining room to hear. “Relax,” I assured him, holding my hand over my
mouth until I swallowed. “No one’s listening to us, no one even cares.”
“Levi.” The job had taught him the dad tone already, at least, but he’d never
used it on me before.
I tilted my head and gave him a pointed look. Don’t you chastise me.
“Well, either way – and I haven’t done that in a long time, for the record –“ I
managed not to laugh when he said it, though barely. “Either way, I want to be
happy about this, but I wanted you to know. I didn’t feel like I could be happy
until I was truthful with you.”
“So now I know.” I drank. “And you still don’t look happy. Even though you’ve
unburdened yourself with no regard for how sick it might make me feel.”
“That wasn’t—“
Our server returned with our food and we tried to seem at least half as tense
as we were. As soon as she was out of earshot, I took the missed opportunity to
interrupt him before he felt the need to finish his blatantly obvious
statement.
“You’ve done so much for me that I don’t feel like I can be honest with you
about how I feel. Like I owe you my good behavior.”
“You don’t,” he said, and he was sincere. So was I, though, so that wasn’t
helping. “I’d deserve it, if you want to be pissed about this. I mean, it’s not
like I planned this.”
“That’s what makes it frustrating. I can just sense it, that you know how
pitiful you are. I searched my brain for the perfect word, too. And that’s you
to a T. Pitiful. Yet if I stood up right now and slapped you across the face
I’d only—“
I cut myself off and leaned forward, hand to my mouth for a few seconds. I
didn’t even finish the thought silently. I turned my eyes on his and stared
until we both knew where my mind was going. Doing something like that would
only arouse me. He wasn’t the one getting that sort of attention anymore. He
wasn’t worth my ire just as much as he wasn’t worth my fealty. The emptiness of
realizing that was jarring. I fell into a bizarre funk as I looked down to cut
away at my Eggplant Parmesan in silence. Without the sex and without the
surrender, we had nothing.
It made me feel good, but it still didn’t fill the hole inside my stomach that
felt like I’d been played from the beginning, allowed to fall further into
something than the actual depth of it had ever deserved.
Maybe it had been the same for him. I’d never know. He wasn’t my problem
anymore.
“Congratulations,” I muttered, lifting my head to make sure he’d heard me. I
poured another glass of wine. The word had been multifarious, and he probably
knew it.
So that’s why Erwin seemed shocked at first, straightening up in his chair and
then looking as lost as I would have figured. “Thank you.”
Then, he smiled. Softly, like a private thought or memory had tugged it out of
him, made him remember that I wasn’t his problem anymore, either.
I lifted my glass at seeing that. “For what it’s worth, you’ll probably be a
good dad.”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure about that yet.”
“You want some advice? Not that I’m a dad or anything, but I’m a son, and I’m
dating a teenager so that’s a helluva ride.”
He held his hands open, smiling a little more freely, accepting the offer with
humble aplomb.
The wine had loosened me up considerably, and my voice got louder as a result.
I crossed my legs beneath the table and called it like I saw it. “What was so
great about my dad was that he always told me stories. About himself, about
what he went through growing up. I used to think they were just cool stories,
but the older I get the more I realize that I can take those lessons and apply
them to myself and it was great because he didn’t preach or paint those stories
as wisdom; he just told me. And that could be a problem, if you just listen and
give out advice but never talk about yourself. Your stories are the greatest
advice. So yeah, like, listen to problems and respond accordingly, but if you
have downtime just talk to the kid. Open up. That’s… that’s just really
something you should do anyway, open up.”
Erwin nodded. He knew I wasn’t just giving him advice for fatherhood.
I’d taken a generous few sips in that short span of time. “Maybe you should
take it easy on the wine, Levi.”
“What, I can’t drink?” I said contentiously.
“I don’t want to have to call you a cab.”
That was the most subtly brilliant reassurance I’d ever heard in my life, and
it stunned me to silence for so long that I finished my second glass of wine in
the interim. Of course the sonofabitch wasn’t just going to flat out say we
needed to keep our mutual distance. He could feel the toxicity as well as I
could. He wasn’t even going to joke about driving me home, though we both knew
the thought was laughable at that point. Even the joke of itwas verboten, and
that was the reassurance.
“I’ll call my own cab,” I declared by the time I also ordered tiramisu. He’d
already volunteered to pay for dinner, so I was taking that as far as I could.
“I’m finishing this bottle.”
I stopped about a half a glass shy of the bottom, when Erwin said he needed to
get home before his wife. I understood, and told him so with the plain respect
that I could muster in my drunken state.
Holding my wine wasn’t a problem, though it did render me incapable of driving
or walking very far without running into things. I never got sick off of it,
and as long as I stuck to my regimen of hydration I wouldn’t have a hangover.
In fact, I liked wine when I felt like getting loud, getting giddy. It was my
favorite at bars, especially in drag. The drawback was the impairment of my
motor faculties, which was a drawback in heels.
I remembered I’d invited Eren over once he was done with his party. “Shit, I’m
going to be a lousy fuck tonight.” I stumbled behind Erwin and put a palm on
his back to hold myself, laughing when a server heard me and shot me a look.
I’d said it to show off. Half of me still hoped they thought I was going home
with him, just so they’d talk about it after we left. “I’m just going to lay
down and tell him to go for it. Whatever.”
Erwin only replied to my mention of the topic once the cab had been called and
we were waiting in the parking lot. At least he didn’t try to get parental with
me again. “You’ll sober up,” he assured me. “If you don’t mind my being
forward, now that we’re in a more discreet setting… Eren Jaeger, is it?”
I closed my eyes and let my head loll around on my shoulders, smiling wide at
the thought, laughing deeply in my throat. “You figured it out.”
“Yeah,” Erwin continued, almost brightly. “He’s taken to getting to school
early, parking next to the faculty lot, so I’ve noticed. Your garters all look
the same. It’s the wings.”
“Jealous?” I asked with a flat tone, opening my eyes and staring at him
unabashedly.
He held my eyes, keeping his distance both physically and emotionally until he
answered, after careful consideration, “Yeah. On a certain level.”
“A certain level…” I repeated, canting my head back and forth in time with the
words.
Erwin pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one. I accepted it, but
used my own lighter. “Thanks.”
We smoked quietly, listening to the frogs making a cacophony in the nearby
drainage ditch.
“Don’t give him a hard time, please,” I finally said, staring ahead. Across the
street there was a new Target store that had been built over the summer. The
new stores were only being built in the Trost neighborhood. Stores were only
shutting down, still, in mine.
“That looks like your cab.”
I let my wrist go limp with my cigarette in it, and glared at him. “Say you
won’t give him a hard time.”
“Why would he deserve that? Why would I do that?”
I thought about it. Thought about the tone of voice, realized he was still
sincere. For all the things he withheld,he was nothing but sincere when
confronted. I shrugged, finally, and took a quick drag before saying goodnight.
“Have a good night,” he said as I walked toward the cab. “Have fun,” he added.
I pointed back at him. “I will, on a certain level.”
He didn’t actually say “fuck you,” but the look was all over his face as I
popped off a quick salute from the wrong side and slid into the backseat.
It wasn’t closure, really. But I’d said the right things. I’d hit on some
truths. Maybe some things didn’t get closure. Maybe some things weren’t really
worth it, or didn’t really need it, and after a while the unimportance would
become obvious. I leaned back in the seat and looked up at the headliner of the
cab as I finished my cigarette on the way home. The small victories were worth
celebrating, and at least I didn’t have herpes.
With no idea when Eren would actually show up, I chugged two glasses of water
and parked myself in front of the TV. I must have drifted into a nap because
the next thing I knew I was starting awake, peeling my cheek off the leathery
surface of the beanbag chair, and slowly tuning in to the sound of knocking at
my door.
I pulled open the door, rubbing my face to will an ugly pink mark off of my
cheek. “Hey,” I yawned when I saw his face. “Come in, I just woke up from a nap
and I have to piss like you wouldn’t believe so I’ll be right back.”
When I returned, he’d deposited his Billabong jacket on the back of one of my
chairs and was washing his hands at the kitchen sink. “How was the shindig?” I
asked, noting that he looked a little less than ecstatic, and more lucid than
I’d expected. Then again, he was more responsible with his drinking than I was.
That, in general, should have concerned me more than it did.
“I was worried when I didn’t see your car downstairs.” He turned to me, wiping
his hands off on my dishtowel before folding it carefully back to hang on the
oven door handle.
“I got a little red wine drunk at dinner.” I moved past him and shrugged. ”I
took a cab home. How was the party?” I asked it again, just to test whether his
focus could be swayed at all.
He put a hand on the back of my neck and pulled me over for a kiss. It was
quick, his lips barely glancing off of mine before he pressed his nose into my
neck and breathed in, then did the same to my shirt collar, my hair. A dark
chuckle started in my chest but stopped before I spoke. I realized that seeing
this side of Eren did more for me than I’d felt all evening, at dinner or
otherwise. “If you’re gonna smell me so hard, why not just swab my ass while
you’re at it; I promise you it was just dinner.”
He breathed out hard against me before pulling back and half-rolling his eyes.
“I know. I’m just…” The way his fingers tightened on my arms told me quite a
bit more than he probably intended to show.
“How was the party?” I asked again, almost smiling this time.
“Fun,” he said simply.
We stood silent for a few moments, and his grip on my arms didn’t slacken. I
reached up between us and touched a finger to the middle of his chest, humming
the edge of a melody as I dragged it down and finally looked up at him. “So are
you going to take me to bed?”
He hesitated very slightly. His bursts of fire and possessive intensity only
came in waves, after all, and I was happy to be in the position of inspiring
them. I leaned forward, rose to my toes, and spoke against his ear. “Yeah. I
mean what you think I mean. That’s why I said it that way.” When I slipped back
down to my natural height, and he still hadn’t responded, I glanced aside to
afford him just a small bit of privacy and added, “If you’re so gung-ho to make
sure I’m yours, then why don’t you?”
I paused and finally looked back at him. “In my current state, it’s probably
best if I’m on my back.”
Eren was efficient, if nothing else. He grabbed me by the hand and led me to
the bedroom, pushed me onto the mattress, pinned my wrists above my head so
that I could only arch into his body while he growled into another wave of
impressive sexual bravery. Giving someone else the control again was exactly
what I needed. After that evening, after the empty feeling had made its home in
my stomach, after everything, I needed Eren jerking my pants off and then
grabbing me by the knees, hitching me off of the pillow and dragging me in a
breathtaking pull to his position on the bed. I wrapped my legs immediately
around him and only let go to grope backwards for the box of condoms still
sitting mostly-full on the cheap bookshelf I called a nightstand while we
kissed.  
“Have you ever put one of these things on?” I asked him, panting as I held a
Trojan between our faces.
“I’ll figure it out.”
“No you fucking won’t, you’ll fuck it up, let me do it.”
We only shifted briefly to allow it, and somehow what Eren might have only
thought of as an interruption of his pace only made his face go redder and his
breath shorter. Though I expected it, his dick was also harder, and fantastic,
and ready, and I was ready, and I was so fucking readybecause I’d been waiting
literally since the day he first kissed me to feel what he was capable of doing
inside me.
The preparations were trying our mutual patience, I knew, so I made a show of
it. Eren pulled back far enough to watch me, holding my knees up and my legs
apart as I plunged two fingers fast and rough in and out of my ass, swiped them
around the bulls-eye, opened wider just by knowing he was looking. The leftover
drunkenness bloomed hot in my cheeks as I pulled at my cock with my free hand
and looked up at Eren.
“You’re really different like this,” he said, like it came as a complete
surprise.
“Not really. Just a little.” I pulled out and dragged the tips of my fingers
over the puckered opening, felt it gasp from the injustice of being left empty.
Eren gulped and dragged a slick hand over his erection, pointing it toward my
ass before he managed to tear his eyes away from my display. “Well, I’ve never
seen you like this, is what I mean.”
“Wait until you start fucking me,” I mumbled around a grin that I couldn’t
suppress, and Eren took it as the invitation it was.
I used to like to think that being enthusiastic about sex was something I had
to play into, to get what I wanted. To be a one night stand, I had to make sex
the be-all and end-all. I liked being looked at, being desired, and being the
center of someone’s attention for a few hours or even a few minutes. Whether
the other person complemented that energy or not, it didn’t matter. If he
wasn’t worth the energy but we were already too far to stop, I still played
into it. Somewhere along the line I started to feel like sex was the only thing
I was good at, and that’s when everything else started to seem pointless. So
the cycle went on, and the cycle fed into other harsh self-assessments, and I
lost all of it in a haze of amphetamines and hallucinogens, whatever I could
get my hands on to get to the next day, the next party.
Sobriety had happened at a strange time in my sex life, and maybe I wouldn’t
have held onto it had it not been for both of the men involved in the
transition. But sobriety made me realize, in lonely moments and long
introspective jags, that while sex wasn’t the only thing that I was good at, it
was still something I enjoyed. The difference was choosing the people I invited
to the playground, so to speak. If Eren had been any less fired up than he was,
pushing firmly and slowly into me, watching my face for silent cues while I
pushed my head back into the bed, stretching my neck and growling,
reacquainting myself with the feeling of being filled, it wouldn’t have been
right.
But it was right. I’d chosen well. I almost laughed when he was completely
inside of me and I got swept up in the truth of the matter, the reasonably
overwhelming knowledge that yeah, this was something I might not fuck up. And
god, I loved sex. God, I loved not having to feel like I was hiding inside of
its fortress.
“Well?” I finally prompted him. He started moving inside of me immediately,
head hung between his shoulders, those long, pretty muscles in his arms flexing
deliciously as they held his weight. “You like that, don’t you?”
Eren groaned and looked at me, green eyes a little wild. He nodded.
“Come on, you can go deeper than that, I know you can. Don’t hold back, use
that cock to fuckme.” I demanded through clenched teeth, and after that it was
all rock and roll.
I wrapped my legs around him again and forced his thrusts to a shallower angle,
though he remained as powerful as before. He bent toward my face, but seemed
hesitant, so I just grabbed his hair and pulled him in, kissing him hard.
The headboard was just barely within reach, so I grabbed it with my hands. I
didn’t want him to come right away, of course, but it was too much fun to mess
with him still, to see his face twist into those contorted expressions when he
couldn’t quite comprehend how my voice made him feel when it said certain
things. I picked the words and was about to say them, but my voice was suddenly
stolen from me. “Ahhh, fuck! Yes!”
I rolled my hips hard against his next thrust and cried out on the unique, high
pitch that only the right stimulation pulls out of me.
“Holy shit,” Eren panted. You’re damn right.
“Don’t get distracted, keep it the fuck up.”
His cock kept hitting me just deep enough and I threw my hips into the upswing
every time, eyes nearly watering by the time he announced with grave urgency
that he was going to come.
“That’s the point.” My voice shook as I said it, and Eren gave me an ugly,
gurgling moan to signal that he definitely, definitely knew.   
About a half an hour later, I was sitting up and he was staring at the ceiling.
We’d both gotten our rocks off and I’d pissed most of the drunk out.
“So what did he need to tell you?” Eren asked, breaking the peaceful silence. I
looked over with a quick chirp of confusion before I realized what he’d asked.
“Oh! Oh that… yeah. He’s going to be a dad.”
Eren sat up a little, on one elbow facing me. “What? Really?”
“Yeah, his wife’s pregnant. I guess he’s going through this crisis of
conscience that I didn’t know, so that’s all that was about.”
“Oh.” He nodded.
“And he knows about you.”
This made Eren sit up completely. “He knows aboutme?”
“Yeah, you put my garter on your mirror, kid,” I reached over and flicked his
forehead. “Don’t look so surprised, those wings are my trademark.”
He tsch-ed at me and leaned back against the headboard. “Weird.”
“That feeling is what we call disquieting,” I offered.
“Do you want me to take you back to your car?” He asked after a few more
moments. He was already leaning over to get his pants. I grunted my disapproval
at having to get dressed. “I work tomorrow morning, otherwise I wouldn’t leave,
but—“
“No, don’t worry about it. Yeah, let me throw something on. Is it still cold as
balls outside?”
“Depends.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and paused to turn back
to me. “Are we talking about your balls? Then no.”
“Ah-ha,” I snapped and shot a finger gun at him. “That’s the way to counter a
stupid idiom. You’re right, though, that phrase makes no fucking sense. Is it
still cold as…” I thought about it. “…a witch’s tit, I like that one.”
“It’s chilly, yeah. Not witch’s titcold, but…”
“I’m wearing my leather jacket, then.”
“With all the patches on it? I like that jacket, it looks good on you.”
“Don’t let your mind wander too much, you’re still going right home and getting
some sleep.”
I made him walk in front of me on our way to the car, against his will. He
managed to go right home and, hopefully, get some sleep.
***** Chapter 18 *****
Chapter Notes
     I love fall and I love writing scenes that take place in fall, so I
     decided to start this next small arc of development smack-dab in the
     middle of my favorite season. If you've been following me on Tumblr
     you've noticed a lot of mentions made by me (usually in response to
     questions from you guys!) about the "kids" and how we're starting a
     patch of the story that will glimpse a little more into their lives.
     Expect asides and maybe a little less Levi than usual, but that's
     okay, right? Ah, and also: there's a little Unspeakable_Aside that
     provides a bit of insight into something mentioned in this chapter.
     Explicit, porny insight, because I have no self-control.
     I'm taking all of your suggestions and questions into consideration,
     but the response is almost overwhelming! I'm sorry if I seem to be
     slacking on comment responses here on AO3, but between the comments
     here and a full inbox on Tumblr it's tough to keep up - thanks for
     sticking with me! :3
     So... that said... 2SPOOKY.
I told Jean I didn’t want to go on a stupid hayride.
“What even is a hayride?” I asked, hurrying to the drink machine so I could
score a can of Dr. Pepper to smuggle into History. I had three minutes, and
would probably be late. I certainly didn’t have time to indulge horse face
yammering at me.
“You’ve never been on a hayride? Are you serious?”
“I don’t know; is it something rich kids do?”
“Shut up, Eren.” He paused. “I don’t know, you just… The Haunted Hayride is
tradition. Everyone meets up at Corning Farm at dusk and loads into hay carts,
and a horse pulls you around while you just enjoy the fall weather and talk
about ghost stories and crap, and then there’s a bonfire at the end and it’s
awesome.”
“That sounds really boring. And Halloween is still two weeks away. And it costs
money?”
“It’s two bucks a ticket; you spend that on soda every day.”
“I’m not giving up my soda to go on a hayride.”
“Eren, I’m Vice President of Key Club this year and it’s a fundraiser; if I
don’t get more people to come they’re going to ream me.”
“Thought you liked being reamed, whether or not other people come.” I was proud
of myself for that one.
“Fuck you, Jaeger,” he narrowed his eyes and looked a little brutal, actually.
I chuckled.
“Who else is going?”
“Armin, of course. Mikasa said she’d come. You can bring people from outside
school so I think she’s inviting Annie. Reiner. Ymir and Christa may or may
not.”
“Is she dating Christa yet?”
“Don’t--” He started, then paused. “Christa thinks Ymir is straight.”
“Is she… is she dumb?”
“I think she’s just naïve, and that’s fine for Ymir. She still never shuts up
about her. Just keep quiet about that, okay? Can you ask your other friends if
they’ll come, at least?”
“I’ll go if Mikasa’s going,” I agreed on the compromise, and sighed as I heard
the bell. “Don’t you have a class to get to, also?”
He shrugged and adjusted his backpack strap. “It’s just Life Management. Coach
Ness teaches it, so he doesn’t really care.”
“Well, I have to go listen to Ms. Brzenska chew me out publicly for being late
again, so bye.”
“It’s on Thursday!” He called after me, and I just turned around with a thumbs-
up to indicate I’d heard him.
Corning Farm was the most well-known haunted place in the city, but I’d never
heard the stories behind it. Mikasa hadn’t either, so she said we should go
just to learn about that. The acreage was about ten miles out of town. It
belonged to the most powerful landowners when the city was founded, and so a
lavish ranch house was still there. The house was owned by the Trost historical
society now, along with the grounds, mostly because no private investors wanted
to buy it and the stories brought in a tiny bit of tourism.
I told Levi about the hayride, taking the roundabout way to invite him along,
and he sneered. “Do you really think anyone would take kindly to me showing up
at that thing?”
It was the first time I’d really felt the isolating feeling of knowing I
couldn’t bring him as far into my everyday life as I wanted. He was right. Not
only would it have been uncomfortable to explain, but Mr. Smith was the Key
Club sponsor. There was no way he wasn’t going to be there. “Yeah. But it
sounds like it would be right up your alley.”
“I used to sneak into Corning Farm, a few years ago when I was into witchcraft
and shit. That place is huge, lots of weird vibes but it’s actually pretty
peaceful to me. Maybe it depends on who you are. Tripped out on ‘shrooms there
once, that was crazy. We’ll go back together on Halloween and sit in the middle
of the fields, see if we can tempt some ghosts.” He looked actually giddy at
the idea. I grinned only because I still didn’t know the stories about Corning
Farm. If I’d known, my reaction might have been a little less enthusiastic.
It was cold on Thursday night. I wore a sweater under my jacket and broke out a
pair of secondhand hiking boots, paying heed to the fliers around school that
urged wearing jeans and heavy footwear.
Jean agreed to pick me up, since Mikasa was riding with Annie, who was
apparently bringing along a friend I didn’t know. An unfamiliar face would have
turned me into a ball of awkward energy, so I hopped into the backseat of
Jean’s Cherokee, surprised to see that I wasn’t alone back there, either.
“Hey,” Reiner greeted me.
If I could have seen Jean’s face, I would have seen his look of apology. I
couldn’t, though, so I just pulled my seatbelt on and paused uncomfortably
before replying, “Hi.”
“Reiner didn’t have a ride so I had Jean pick him up.” Armin would tell me
later how sorry he was that the gesture of kindness had just slipped out like
that. By that point I wouldn’t care. But at least he was calmly informing me of
who was to blame.
Reiner looked a little put off by my expression, and I couldn’t blame him. I
still had to remind myself to look more approachable at times. Treading
carefully was important, though: as far as I knew, Reiner still liked me, even
though he knew from my own admission (being my usual loudmouth self at Jean’s
last party) that I had a boyfriend.
We talked easily enough on the way out of town. Conversation turned to how the
Titans had been absolutely destroyed at Homecoming, which may have explained
how desperate for some positive attention Reiner had been ever since. He
fumbled a touchdown pass in the 4th quarter and, though he was certainly not
the only one who fucked up, as the team’s usual MVP and one of the best wide
receivers in the district, he took the responsibility very seriously. He had
also been looking into football scholarships. Those might not be coming, after
such a disappointing season.
“It’s okay.” I looked over at him with what I hoped was a genuinely reassuring
look. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem, you’re one of the top students in
your class, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but I wanted to go to school for sports. That’s what my parents want.”
We were all oddly silent at that. Jean didn’t say anything because his parents
were pushing him into law and he didn’t want to do it. Armin didn’t say
anything because his parents weren’t around to dictate such things, and he was
completely free to decide what he wanted to do. I didn’t say anything for
obvious reasons. I hadn’t even started to think about life after high school
yet. I still wasn’t ready to begin, so I tried to change the subject.
“How long is this thing supposed to last, anyway?”
“Don’t be so eager to get there, Eren,” Jean sniped.
“I just asked. I just want to know.”
“I don’t know. It depends on how fun things get at the bonfire. I went to the
one last year and it went until just before midnight.”
Of course it did. Key Club was the cool club, after all, the one the popular
kids were in, the kids who could get away with late curfews and bonfires in the
middle of nowhere on apparently haunted grounds. “You don’t even need to worry,
Eren, it’s not like you need to get home early or anything.”
“What, do you not have a curfew?” Reiner asked.
I shrugged, not wanting to go into it too much. “It’s just… um, my dad isn’t
really around. I can sort of set my own hours. But that doesn’t mean I don’t
want to get a decent amount of sleep, and since I’m stuck riding with you
clowns—“ I was mostly referring to Jean.
“Eren just wants to run off and see Levi,” Armin offered. I knew it was his
adept little way of mentioning my takenstatus yet again, and silently I thanked
him.
“Not really. No tonight,” I said, though I smiled.
Reiner laughed slightly, like it was a cut at the same time that it was
amusing. “How old is your boyfriend again?”
“He’s 25.” I tried to play it off, holding my chin up as I said it. No one
commented.
“I’m the only single one in this car; that’s lame as hell,” Reiner said, trying
at least to be civil about it.
Jean saw the opportunity to offer an optimistic take on things. “Maybe you’ll
meet someone tonight.”
“Unlikely, but thanks. Plus, I kind of… you know… I don’t know. I want to keep
it sort of secret for now. You know. About me. Except for you guys. I don’t
want everyone at school knowing.”
“Right on.” Knowing it wasn’t worth it to go down that road, Jean mercifully
steered us away from talk of relationships. “Did everyone bring a flashlight?
Because I have an extra one.”
We went off the subject, talking about nothing in particular until we reached
our destination.
The small gravel parking lot for the Corning Farm grounds was already packed,
so we parked on the edge of the street and started walking where the signs led
us. “Maybe I should have been here earlier,” Jean said, after no less than
three of his Key Club friends asked him where he’d been. It was already ten
minutes after 5:00p.m. and it was getting dark. Things seemed to be about to
start, though, and after paying we were told to find a cart as quickly as
possible.
Only a few steps toward the assemblage of big, mostly loaded hay carts, I heard
an all-too-familiar cry. “Hey! Eren! Over here!”
I glanced over and saw Mikasa standing up in her red flannel shirt and matching
muffler, waving at me from one of the carts. “We saved this whole thing for you
guys, get over here!”
“Mikasa to the rescue again,” Jean breathed in relief. “I was afraid we were
going to be split up.”
Annie was sitting down on one of the hay bales that made makeshift seat rows,
mostly hidden in a hooded jacket though I could tell her profile immediately
from her nose. She glanced over me as the four of us made a ruckus climbing up
and in. “Hi, Eren,” she acknowledged me with a smirk.
She still made me a little uncomfortable. I never knew what she was thinking.
So I just waved at her, nodding a shaky hello before I was distracted by the
stranger sitting next to her. I pointed at him and he looked away from me
nervously.
I was about to ask who he was when Jean lunged past me. “Oh my god, is that
Bertl the Turtle? It is!”
They were next door neighbors, it turns out, although Bertholdt Hoover went to
St. Maria’s and rarely left the house otherwise. Jean had been teasing him
since they were children for various things, including but not limited to his
height, a stutter he had since worked past, and the fact that he cried a lot.
Teasing someone for those things didn’t seem like a big stretch for someone
like Jean, but he seemed to be playing nice as long as we were all forced into
close quarters. Bertl looked older than he was, but he also seemed intimidated
by everything. Despite the fact that he was only wearing a light Tommy Hilfiger
sweater over a collared shirt I could swear he was sweating.
I sat next to Mikasa, toward the other end of the cart, and Jean sat in between
Reiner and Armin. He purposefully put Reiner across from Bertl the Turtle, I
noticed.
There was so much gay in that cart, it was already unbelievable, but then I
shouldn’t have tempted fate by even thinking things like that. When it rains,
it pours.
“Four, five, six, seven,” I heard being counted off next to me, and I knew the
voice before I glanced over and saw Erwin Smith shouting over to someone else.
“Seven in here, so mine’s ready!”
Please god no, can this not be happening.
“I’ve got eight!” I heard someone shout back.
“That’s not my problem. All the other carts are already full. Sit in the
middle. Let’s go.”
I kept my eyes ahead, and Jean caught my eyes while I tried to be cool. I
expected him to shoot me a horrible, shit-eating grin, reveling in my
embarrassment, but instead his face went pale as mine and he wilted a little
towards Armin. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked.
Jean shot a few glances at Mr. Smith, who was still lost in conversation with
someone else just out of earshot. “Nothing! Nothing, Eren. Shut up.”
Armin leaned over, cupping a hand over his mouth as Jean started to shout for
him to not say a word. I couldn’t resist the look on Armin’s face, though, so I
leaned forward to hear whatever he had to say. He was careful to whisper it
right against my ear, giggling as Jean tried to pull him away. “Jean had a
dream about Mr. Smith.”
I loved how evil Armin could be, when he wanted to be, but I figured it was
about time Jean was brought down a few pegs. I laughed so hard that Mikasa
demanded to know what he had said, and Jean was just sitting there with a
thunderstruck expression by the time the news traveled all around the cart and
Mr. Smith finally climbed up to join us.
The way everyone went suddenly silent did not go unnoticed, but he tried to
play it off. “Are we ready?” He asked. He looked like a different person in
jeans and a leather bomber jacket, still too handsome for this world, but I
tried not to stare. That was just weird, staring. I thought of how weird it
must have been for Jean, and almost started laughing again. Mikasa caught my
twitch, and hit my arm as she started to crack up as well.
“Yeah, we are,” Jean finally answered, shooting us both a poisonous look across
the aisle.
Mr. Smith sat next to Armin, across from me at the end of the cart. I pointedly
didn’t look at him, and wondered what I was going to do when he greeted me,
which he did quite brightly. “Hi, Eren. Glad you came.”
Then, Mr. Zacharius ran up and thankfully distracted him. He was the AP
Chemistry teacher, which meant I would likely never have one of his classes. I
heard they were fun. “Shannon and Trey and one of Trey’s brothers just showed
up, and I’m 99% sure they’re drunk.”
Erwin (I simply couldn’tthink of him as Mr. Smith; it left a bad taste in my
mouth) shrugged. He also laughed, which jarred me even more. “Tell them to go
home. It’s a school function.”
“You go do it.”
“I just got up here. You’re still on the ground. You have feet, go send them
home.” 
Reiner leaned forward and interrupted. “Hey, Mr. Z! if we’re out late at this
thing do we still have to turn in our lab reports tomorrow?”
Mr. Zacharius leaned forward over crossed arms and shook his head, barely
reacting. “Yes, Mr. Braun. Yes you do.”
“But we’re here supporting a school club!”
“It’s not my club, it’s his.” He jerked a thumb toward Erwin, who appeared to
roll his eyes but I didn’t care to look too closely. “Should have thought of
that before you decided to have school spirit.”
“Mike.” That was Erwin, warningly.
“All right. I’m leaving. Gonna go be an authority figure or something, I
guess.”
I suddenly really wanted to work hard enough to get into AP Chemistry just so I
could be in his class the next year.
The sun had set by the time we started rolling, and Mikasa kept getting my
attention just long enough that I turned to her and she made some hideous face
while holding her flashlight just under her chin. The lights from the street
and the ranch house were gone, and Armin was turned around to sweep his
flashlight around the field by the time Erwin spoke up.
“Okay, this is the part where I’m supposed to tell you all about the legend of
Corning Farm.”
“What if we’ve already heard it?” Annie asked in a challenging monotone.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” Erwin countered her. I couldn’t help perking up a
little at the almost sassyway he said it.
“My name’s Annie,” she answered with a short, snorting chuckle.
“Annie, if you already heard it, why did you pay two dollars to be here
tonight?”
Mikasa laughed out loud and I heard Jean snicker. Annie just murmured
“whatever” and sat back in her seat, but I glanced over to see Mikasa smack her
lightly on the head when she did.
“Does anyone not know?” Erwin asked once she was dealt with, and lit each of us
with his flashlight in turn. Mikasa and I, of course, had our hands up. So did
Bertl. So did Armin, who looked psyched beyond all belief to hear whatever was
coming. “All right. This is going to be fun, then.”
He went over what I already knew; how the Cornings were descended from the city
founders, how they owned most of the land surrounding the city and built their
farm into an agricultural fortune in the 1800’s prior to the Civil War. Then,
he started to get to the things I didn’t know.
“In the 1800’s they built walls around their property. We’re going to be riding
past some of them. Big walls, stone walls, with no apparent purpose. They
didn’t tell anyone why, they just started doing it, which is why the little
town off to the North is called Corning Wall. Then, the reports started to get
filed. The sheriff started to get called to the farm. Now, these are all
documented reports. You can really go look them up. James Corning III was
apparently sort of a kook and was convinced that there were creatures coming
out of the forest at night and eating his livestock. That’s why he built the
walls, he said, because he was terrified of these creatures. He said they
looked like men with pig bellies and pig faces. Now, whether or not thatwas
true is up to legend. But reports do exist talking about the mutilated bodies
of cows and pigs being found on the grounds, ripped apart. There aren’t wolves
in the area, and apparently the wounds didn’t seem to be from any common
predator. One of the sheriff’s reports actually describes the wounds on one pig
looking as if it were torn apart limb by limb, muscle rended from bone as if by
force, with no claw or teeth marks.”
I shone my flashlight on Armin’s face. He was staring at Erwin, listening
intently with his mouth half open. When he noticed me looking, he put his
flashlight on me, as well, and we exchanged an impressed look, trying to hide
how creeped out we suddenly were. Erwin went on. “Some years down the line the
police were on a search party for a man who went missing on a hunting trip, and
they came to the edge of the Corning property. They found one of the gates in
the wall with a bullet hole near it and asked to search, just in case the
missing hunter had wandered in somehow. When Mrs. Corning was told about the
search she immediately started to claim the hunter had probably run afoul of
the creatures, and tried to stop the police from getting in. Of course this
aroused suspicion. Mr. Corning let them in with no problems, much to his wife’s
dismay.
“They found what they were looking for, in a strange way. It was in the house
basement – the hunter, and three other missing people – blinded with their
tongues cut out. The family had been experimenting on them, the story goes.
There were more bodies buried around the farmgrounds, apparently, so this whole
place was shut down. They weren’t just regular dead bodies, though. Corning had
tried transplanting livestock and human organs, he tried to make hybrid people.
When they exhumed the grounds they found mutilated and sewn-together bodies,
most unidentifiable, buried right in the soil where the food was grown.”
Erwin paused for effect at that, and I heard Bertl whine a little. When I
glanced over, trying not to fling my light too obviously, I caught the space
between Annie and Mikasa and noticed they were holding hands. I didn’t know how
to feel about that, but I did see Reiner leaning over to whisper something to
Bertl before Erwin went on. “Corning was declared insane and institutionalized,
and claimed until the day he died that he’d been possessed by the creatures,
and didn’t do anything wrong. The creatures he had been creating, so to speak,
were the ones he was most terrified of, it seems. One of the daughters escaped
persecution and changed her name, though, they say. So who knows who’s
descended from her now.”
Mikasa and I exchanged a look, as if we’d both had the same thought at the same
time. Then I noticed that Armin was giving me a similar look. Only Jean seemed
unaffected by that little addition. His family had moved to town from
Minnesota.
“Any questions?” Erwin asked, and I did see the mischievous smile on his face
when I glanced over.
“Yeah, if we get jumped by any creatures or poltergeists or anything, I’m
throwing you and Reiner in front of them. That’s not a question. I just want to
put that out there,” Jean said. He knew the stories, yes, but obviously they
still affected him to some extent.
“Mikasa might be a good choice, too,” Erwin remarked, no less than happy to
give a subtle nod to the obvious. “You guys put a good group together here for
survival purposes.”  
“Annie’s a black belt,” Mikasa added.
“Yo.” Annie waved.
Jean scoffed, though it wasn’t at Annie. “Man… Sir. I was warned not to ever be
in your cart.” He was still addressing Erwin. “You tell that story really well.
It’s creepy when you do it.”
“Thanks, I guess? I used to be a History teacher, I have to make things sound
interesting. I feel sorry for whoever’s in Mike’s cart, it’s his first year and
he’s a bad storyteller.”
I looked over at Jean, waiting until he caught my eye, and it was like he
remembered all at once why he’d been so awkward at the beginning of the
hayride. For a split-second I wondered how that dream had been. The level of
his suddenly returning mortification seemed to indicate it had been a good one,
at least.
We went on exchanging a few other ghost stories and jumping at every little
noise that we weren’t making. It turns out that Reiner’s great-great-
grandmother was actually accused of being a witch in rural West Virginia, and
he had an endless supply of great, short, and undeniably hair-raising anecdotes
that had been passed down since her time. Bertl seemed very interested,
actually loosening up a little as he listened. Maybe he had a macabre side.
After Jean mentioned that he’d heard about the ghosts messing with people who
visited Corning Farm – turning them around in the fields so they couldn’t find
their way out or stealing things from them while they were there, for instance
– Erwin grunted thoughtfully. “They say that ghosts only keep haunting because
they don’t know they’re ghosts yet.”
It seemed too profound a statement to leave alone, so I thought about it as
tiny conversations went around the cart. Maybe it went the same for people, who
didn’t know whether they were one thing or the other, who didn’t know where
they belonged.
When we rode past the wall, everyone got quiet. I wasn’t prepared for how big
it actually was. It was cracked and crumbling in some spots, and made an eerie
picture in the flashlight beams. “Whoa,” Armin finally said, and I knew his
mind was racing on all the details, all the stories behind the stories. He’d
probably head down to the public records office, knowing him, and actually dig
up the reports Erwin had mentioned.
I took the chance, in the silence, to look at Erwin. Thankfully, he wasn’t
looking back at me. He did, however, have a pensive expression on his face,
like he was waiting for something.
You know that thing I’ve mentioned before, about my intuition? I had literally
a split second to read the situation, and knew what was going to happen, but I
didn’t have any time to react. It was called a Haunted Hayride,after all. I
should have known. I felt sort of stupid for not figuring it out, even as
someone dressed in full black, face hidden by a hood, came running at our cart
from the darkness, breaking the silence with a blood-curdling noise.
Mikasa cried out first with a terrified peal of laughter, and leapt over into
what I could only assume were Annie’s arms. I pushed back against her but
kicked on instinct toward the figure before my brain even took the time to
remind me that it wasn’t an actual attacker.
The most interesting thing was that, across from me, Jean had leaned (also
laughing and wheezing in terror) into Armin, grabbing him around the waist, but
Armin had actually thrown his arms around Erwin. I had to smile at the
awkwardness of the whole scene, before I even got my adrenaline in check and
bothered to check on what was happening at the other end of the cart.
Reiner had actually fallen forward into the aisle and had one hand clamped over
his mouth. He’d grabbed one of Bertl’s legs. Bertl wasn’t saying anything; he
seemed more shocked by Reiner than he was by the jump scare, and not
necessarily in a bad way.
As she recovered, Mikasa hit me on the shoulder. “Ahh!” She cried as she did.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“I don’t know, I just have a lot of energy now!” She did it again. We were both
laughing hysterically, and the laughter passed naturally to everyone else as we
commented on our respective states of shock and terror.
By the time our cart reached the bonfire area, we were all full of energy we
didn’t quite know what to do with. We’d moved on to talking about Jean’s
upcoming Halloween party. “It’s movie themed,” he informed us. “That means
you’d better dress up as a character from a movie, or you’re not getting in.”
“Can I come?” Annie chirped.
“Yeah, sure,” Jean waved a hand in the air. My mind was already racing on who I
might dress up as. Something easy. It had been years since I’d had reason to
put any effort into a Halloween costume. I was almost too distracted to react
when Jean added, “Eren, I think it would be cool if you bring Le—“ He
remembered himself halfway, but it was too late to stop. “—vi.”
Everything got incrediblyawkward for a few moments.
Annie was the only one who had absolutely no perspective on the situation who
was likely to speak up, and so she did. “Is that your brother’s boyfriend or
something?” She asked Mikasa.
“Yeah…” Mikasa answered slowly, and none of us really moved for a bit as the
cart slowed.
“Wow. Sure is quiet in here.” Annie added.
“Well,” Erwin finally said, and stood up once we came to a full stop. “I’d
better go see if I can lend a hand getting the bonfire set up. I’ll see you
kids around.”
“Thanks for telling us all of that!” Armin spoke up eagerly, like he’d
forgotten the strange energy Jean’s slip caused. It hadmelted away rather
quickly. “That was really cool.”
Just as he said it, a few guys from a nearby cart were walking by. They
obviously heard Armin talking, saw him standing up, and decided to take the
opportunity for what it was. One of them coughed into his hand and turned it
into a rather loud “Faggot!”   
Obviously they hadn’t noticed Erwin, who zeroed in with lightning quickness.
“Hey!”
I’d never heard his voice rise so quickly. It made me short of breath, to be
honest. The boys turned around. Erwin didn’t take the time to reprimand anyone
in particular; he just pointed firmly and asked with a particularly dark
expression, “What’s your name?”
The boy hesitated. “Uh… Roger.”
“You’re lying. I know who you are. Brent Wallace, I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t
think I’m messing around because I’m not, you are getting called to my office
tomorrow.And if you’re not there tomorrow it’ll be Monday.”
“But I—“
“Tomorrow. Go on.” The boy was going to protest again, but Erwin just added
another, louder, “Go.” And that was that.
We were all a little stunned at the way he’d said all that. I couldn’t speak
for the inner thoughts of anyone else, but for me at least it was a
breakthrough moment. Maybe hearing Levi’s name had sparked something in Erwin,
but it was exactly the sort of reaction I’d been hoping for weeks ago, to see
that light of fury in his eyes.
Armin just smoothed out his hair and hesitated, still a little shaken. “Um…
thank you, sir.”
“I just can’t stand punks like that,” Erwin said, his voice deep and clipped.
“That word makes me want to hurt someone.” He paused, and tried to look a lot
sunnier as he turned to us. “So I just have to do what I can, in the position I
have. He’ll get what’s coming to him. Have a good time, you guys. Drive
safely.”
“Thanks,” went the chorus from everyone else.
I added my own, slightly out-of-sync “Thanks,” and noticed when he paid
particular attention to it with a sad-smile quirk of his lips.  
“Uhhh, that’s not what I expected to happen.” Jean stood up and wrapped his
arms around Armin quickly. “I’m sorry, baby,” I heard him mumble.
Armin, though he patted Jean’s hand appreciatively, looked like he was lost in
an extended moment of hero worship. His eyes were still following in Erwin’s
direction. I smirked and hopped down out of the cart.
I wound up hanging out with Ymir and Christa, who pulled me away from Jean and
Armin to talk about comics once they learned that I’d read my fair share of
them. There was a portable sound system set up, and it was playing an album by
Dave Matthews Band that had only come out a couple of weeks ago. We’d all heard
the lead singles from the radio, of course, but the whole record seemed to be a
perfect backdrop to the huge, crackling fire on the cold October night while I
talked about Knightfallwith the only other two people I’d met who’d read it.
On the way home, far earlier than I’d feared, Jean started to interrogate
Reiner about Bertl. “What did you two get up to after we split up at the
bonfire?”
“Well, it turns out we were in the same classes in elementary school. I just
didn’t remember him well because he looked really different back then. So we
talked about that. He’s into soccer – plays soccer, actually – so I asked him
about that because I’m sick of talking about football. Um…” He trailed off.
“Come on, Reiner, every single one of us is sitting here wondering if you like
him.”
Reiner sighed heavily, treating it all as a sad joke. “He’s not—“
“I’m willing to bet money that he is!” Jean interrupted. “There’s something in
the water on my street.”
“Jean, you need to stop making bets, you always lose them,” Armin remarked. I
threw my head back and laughed at that.
I’d have enough saved up for a month or two of car payments by Christmas. I’d
picked out something modest, and Jean had surprisingly treated the whole thing
with humble sincerity. “You deserve it, I guess. Not for that. Just because
you’re a good person and you mean a lot to someone I love.” 
It was the first time I’d heard him use the L-word about Armin, and though the
moment took us both a few cleared throats to get over, I advised him that I
wanted a Honda Civic and left it at that.
Jean dropped me off at the house. He was going to pull up to the curb as usual,
but noticed that the curb was occupied by a 1987 Mustang. He had enough insight
into the situation to hold his tongue, and pulled up slowly next to it, getting
as close to my house as he could.
“Is that Annie’s car?” He asked after the silence stretched on just a little
too long, and I hesitated to open the door.
“Eren, do you want me to go in with you?” Armin asked softly. I heard Jean
whisper a little “oh” before he shut up for good.
“Nah.”
“You can spend the night at my house, if you like.”
“Nah!” I said, trying to sound completely unfazed. “I’m fine. It’ll be fine; I
need to talk to him at some point.”
“Your dad?” Reiner caught the weight of my tone and peered at the Mustang
himself.
“Yeah.”
He nodded solemnly and tilted his head in a subtle but encouraging gesture.
“I had a lot of fun tonight,” I said, trying not to be completely lifeless as I
put one foot out the door and felt the heat of Jean’s idling car cut by the
chill of the night air. “I’ll see you guys at school.”
I crept inside, considered the darkness throughout the house a small mercy, and
hoped I hadn’t been heard as I made my way to bed without even brushing my
teeth or taking a piss. I just toed off my shoes and curled under my blankets,
turning toward the wall so I might not feel the sudden weight on my chest quite
so heavily.   
I’d really wanted to call Levi before I went to sleep, was the thought I
couldn’t shake.
 
***** Chapter 19 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hi guys! I know it took a long time to update but I actually see this
     one as something of a triumph because I managed to write it in the
     middle of the most colossal work week I’ve had in forever (back to
     two jobs, uugghhhH). I’ve done a lot of work with the plotting of the
     story going forward – no huge plot arcs, but getting to the meat of
     what’s making Eren and Levi click needed some tweaking.
     The story got really heavy, I know. Being 16 tends to be really
     heavy, though. Luckily I have the aside system in place to hammer out
     some more uplifting/less gut-punchy stuff.
     I actually planned to keep this chapter going a little longer – 19
     and 20 are going to work like one continuous chapter, really, so for
     once I am VERY sorry for the cliffhanger. If I had time to sit here
     and hammer out 6000 more words I totally, totally would! I’ll be
     working on it, though (and on that Reiner/Bertl aside…).
     *sings “ch-ch-ch-chaaaaanges”*
Mom knew, of course. She must have been clearly aware that she was the glue
holding us together. I know this because I remember one of the last nights she
could talk, about a week before she died; she was with me in the living room
while everyone else – dad, Mikasa, her hospice nurse –  got some shut-eye. She
said, “Please be patient with dad. He’s trying his best.”
It was only in honor of her request that I kept reminding myself to bite my lip
and count to ten. Sometimes I was happy when dad wasn’t there just because I
didn’t have to focus so much on not losing my temper.
When I got up the morning after the hayride just in time to get ready for
school, I could hear voices in the kitchen. Only one was Mikasa’s. I tried to
fool myself that I didn’t recognize dad’s voice, but it still sounded exactly
the same.
I purposefully lingered in the bathroom, getting dressed. When I emerged I only
had five minutes before I needed to leave the house if I wanted to get my usual
parking spot. Mikasa turned in her chair and glared at me immediately, like she
was blaming me for leaving everything in her hands for so long. “Good morning,”
I greeted her. I ignored dad.
He’d been young when I was born. He looked old now, older than he was, older
than I remembered him looking last time I saw him, which had been months ago.
“Good morning,” he turned and greeted me, pointed with a spatula at a plate of
pancakes and bacon.
“I don’t have time to eat,” I said, and caught Mikasa’s eyes meaningfully when
I passed.
Her voice sounded completely colorless when she spoke. “You have to go to
school with me. Dad’s taking the station wagon later. So we’ve got about an
hour.”
Mikasa still left for school with just enough time to make the bell. Trapped, I
looked at dad with a blaming expression.
He shrugged. “Oil change, new air filter.” After clearing his throat,
pretending to ignore my anger as I fell heavily into a chair and let my
backpack drop, he went on. “Mikasa tells me you’re getting a car of your own,
soon.”
I felt the spot between my eyebrows creasing, but I remembered mom’s advice and
answered him. “Yeah. I got a job. I’ve been saving up.”
“At the gas station, right?” He pushed a plate closer to me and, sighing, I
grabbed a fork just to give myself something to do. I wasn’t going to deny that
I was hungry. I didn’t answer his first question. “What sort of car are you
getting?”
“A Civic,” I said before I shoved a forkful of pancake into my mouth.
“Dad’s been in Pennsylvania,” Mikasa mentioned with a nearly-exasperated
breath.
Remembering she was there to back me up, and that dad was almost never
assertive with us, I got sharper. “What were you doing in Pennsylvania?”
“Odd jobs,” he said, and I didn’t want to hear what he had to say after that.
Pennsylvania was too far away to be the only place where odd jobs existed.
However, I couldn’t help hearing what he said next. “I actually got a permanent
position. A really good job. In Allentown.”
I tried not to tense up, but I did. Next to me, just barely in my periphery, I
saw Mikasa clench her fork tighter, rubbing her thumb anxiously on the flat of
it.
“Good for you,” I said flippantly.
“I start in three weeks, so I’m here to see if the house can get enough to pay
off the mortgage. Selling the station wagon, too. We won’t need four cars. We
might be stuck in an apartment for a few months when we get there, but—“
I didn’t want to interrupt him, because what he was saying sounded so unreal.
“Wait,” I interrupted.
He paused only long enough to let me know that he was aware of my tone, and
what it was for. “The house might not sell right away. As long as the house is
here, you don’t have to leave. But when it does sell—“
“No, wait.”
Mikasa had put her fork down, and was holding her hands under the table. I
didn’t need proof to know she was making fists.
Dad faced me and crossed his arms, like he was going to be kind enough to
allowme a rebuttal. I felt not even a shred of authority from him, not even a
glimmer of the compassion I maybe should have been feeling. I wasn’t happy for
him, or gratefultoward him, but my heart was wrenching on the opposite tack.
Suddenly I didn’t care what mom had told me. That had been years ago. He hadn’t
been trying at all. Only one of us had held up our end of the bargain. My
obligation was fulfilled.
“We can’t move! You can’t make us move!”
He sighed loudly. “I hate to be this way.” No he didn’t. “But I actually can.”
“Why can’t you get a job here?” I countered, my voice rising. I’d dropped my
fork on the plate to gesture as my mind started racing with everything this
meant. “Why can’t you even behere? Where have you been?”
“Eren…”
“All my friends are here! All of Mikasa’s friends are here! If you make us move
now I might as well just die!”
“…calm down.”
“No! No, I’m not going to calm down, you come back here and think you can
suddenly be our father when you’ve not cared for years? No!” It was suddenly
like the adrenaline dropped out and I was empty. The crushing inevitability of
everything came down on top of me and I couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe. I hid
my face in my hands and growled. I wondered why Mikasa wasn’t saying anything.
Maybe she’d already reached the same point.
“Eren, it’s not going to be right away. You’ll have some time to—“
“Time to what?” I asked sharply, looking back up at him. God, I wished I could
just forget he was even there. I wished I could disappear on him just like he
disappeared on me. “Not time to make better grades or better friends or—“ I
wanted to say something else. I wanted to say something about Levi. I wanted to
say my boyfriendand throw it in his face, but I didn’t want to risk derailing
the conversation. “You’re saying I have time to say goodbye! I have time to get
used to the idea! No! I’m not going!”
He was growing tired of my attitude, but I could tell he’d anticipated it. He
was horrible at arguing. “Yes you are,” he said calmly, turning back to the
stove.
“I’ve gotten by this long without you.”
That seemed to set him off slightly. Next to me, Mikasa whispered, “Eren.”But I
ignored her.
Dad turned around and waved a hand in the air. “And who pays for the mortgage?
The bills? Who gives you the money to eat on? Whose house do you live in?”
“I’ve got a job.”
“You’ve got a part-time job, and I’m still your legal guardian.”
My bottom lip quivered. “You’re an awful father.”
He didn’t answer. He actually looked away from me. He knew he deserved it.
I wanted a reaction. I balled my fist and hit the table with it, making the
dishes clatter and Mikasa jump. “Fuck you! You’re an awfulfather! Mom would be
so mad at you! She’d hate you!”
Mikasa reached out and grabbed at my shirt sleeve. “Eren, let’s go to school.”
Dad didn’t react to me. He let Mikasa tell me it was time to leave the house,
he let her drag me out even though I protested and asked her why she wasn’t
saying anything and nearly cried. When we were in the Buick she finally looked
at me, and I noticed the way her cheeks were mottled. Her eyes were bloodshot.
She’d been crying, herself. “I can’t fucking believe this,” she said first. I’d
been expecting a reprimand.
“Maybe he’s not serious.”
“He’s serious.” Mikasa sat there with her hands on the wheel, but she hadn’t
even taken out her keys. “That’s why he’s not getting pissed off at you. He
wants it to sink in. I told him you were gonna go off.”
“Did you? Did you go off?”
“You know…” She paused, and I saw her lips move on something unspoken before
she shook her head with a tiny, violent motion, like she suddenly remembered
where she was and what she was doing. She gulped and reached into her purse,
pulling out the keys finally. I barely heard her speak over the jangling of
them. “I don’t think I could react, it’s like it all hit at once. I still
haven’t reacted really.”
She put the key in the ignition and cranked the car. Immediately I reached for
the heater and turned it on full blast. It wasn’t thatcold outside, but I was
freezing, shivering. I looked out the window as she backed out of the driveway.
“I don’t want to go to school,” she said flatly. Her tone of voice was odd, so
I turned and stared at her. Mikasa was frowning so deeply, I wondered if I’d
ever seen that look on her face before. Maybe she was being petulant. I’d never
seen her being petulant. She’d always been the strong one, ever since she came
to live with us. Long seconds passed. She stopped at the intersection on the
end of our street. Then, she started to slap her hands hard against the wheel,
so hard that I heard the dull metal springing sound of the steering column
being jostled. “What’s the fucking point? Why are we even trying?”  
I didn’t react, because none of us were reacting. We were all coming to terms
with it in little explosions of our own, so I was just going to sit there with
my hands stuffed into the pockets of my jacket, my knees up against the
dashboard while I waited for my next one to hit.
Mikasa peeled out of the intersection and started to speed down the main road.
I threw her a quick glance but there was no way I was going to judge her, or
even be worried. So what if we crashed? So what if she got pulled over? What
did it matter? She was right.
She didn’t need to tell me for me to know that we were ditching school. I
angled my head against the glass and let her drive me where she felt, and
eventually she started talking, started letting out her feelings about it, and
didn’t shut up. I liked letting her talk. She said nothing new, and didn’t
really touch on anything I wasn’t already thinking, but it felt nice to have
someone else voice all of it.
“Yeah,” I occasionally threw in.
We went to a gas station, I got a couple of sodas, and we sat on the curb
talking at a more reasonable volume. I finally started talking back, and one of
the first things I said was: “You should just run away. We should just move
out. What about when he finds out I’m gay, what about when he finds out you do
drugs?”
“Are you kidding?” She rolled her eyes and swigged from her Cherry 7-Up. “Dad’s
a pothead.”
I hadn’t known that, so I just nodded solemnly. Mikasa went on. “He’ll have to
stop if this job thing is legit, but still. God!I don’t know what I think. I
have to think about it a little more.”
When Mikasa didn’t automatically agree with the thought of going it on our own,
when she didn’t mention it or suggest it first, that’s when I started to worry.
I stood up and searched my pockets for change. “I’m going to call Levi,” I
said, turning a quarter between my thumb and middle finger.
“Hn,” Mikasa grunted in response.
I’d only called him a few times, really. Usually I just went to see him, at
work or after. Three rings in, I realized it was only 7:30 a.m., and I seized.
Too late to take it back now. Too late to crawl into myself and deny it was an
emergency.
When Levi answered, his voice sounded so deep and scratchy that it took my
breath away. “Hello?”
“H-hey. Hi, it’s me.” I barely managed to say it.
“What time is it?” He asked.
“Like half past seven.”
“In the morning?” His voice achieved an unusual and adorable high-pitched edge
beneath the roughness, like he was in pain at the prospect. I sighed past it
because I knew I couldn’t dwell on it. “Christ…”
“I’m… I really need to talk to you.”
“Why aren’t you in school?” Like he hadn’t even heard what I’d said, like it
was all hitting him as his brain caught up to being awake.
“I skipped.” I paused. “We skipped. Something happened.” I didn’t want to be
overly dramatic, but I also didn’t feel like I had the capacity to elaborate at
that moment.
I could hear him scratching his head on the other end of the line. He stopped
when I said the last part. He paused for a beat. “Are you okay?” Suddenly his
voice was 100% clear.
“I guess so,” I struggled to put it in the right words.
“Is everything okay?”
I realized, snapping out of my selfish haze, that I was worrying him. “I’m
safe! I’m safe, I’m just… something happened. My dad’s home. I’ve got a lot
going on and it’s pretty heavy, I wanted to know if I can come over?”
“Sure.” It sounded like he was stretching as he said it. He seemed sweeter when
I woke him out of a dead sleep. My head ached to think about that, though, with
everything else that was on my mind. “I mean, Hanji’s here. She crashed last
night after we drank a little bit too much but yeah, totally. Let me put on
some coffee, come over.” He started to yawn.
Levi told me to be careful before he said goodbye. He thanked me for calling
him, and that’s what stuck with me when I told Mikasa I wanted her to drop me
off at his apartment.
She needed to go up with me to use the bathroom, she said, even though Mikasa
had never even been inside of his place. I could tell she was hesitant to let
me go. When Levi answered the door in a pair of black sweatpants and a
sweatshirt, he invited her in, and told me while she slipped from sight that
she could stay if she wanted.
The coffee was fresh, a welcome bit of warmth in my belly as I explained what
was happening, not taking my eyes away from the mug in my hands. Hanji was
barely awake and had joined us, wrapped in a blanket and sitting across from
me. I wondered, quickly, if it was the first time all four chairs at Levi’s
dining room table had been occupied.
“Oh, honey…” Hanji breathed, empathy ringing true in her voice as soft as it
was. I’d been silent for a few seconds. I was scared to hear what Levi had to
say when he finally spoke.
“Have you tried talkingto him?”
I looked up immediately and glared at him, knitting my brows, almost angry at
what my brain read as an accusation. I wasn’t in the right humor to be having a
conversation so important, but that’s just how life was starting to go for me.
“Yes! And he shot me down, every time!”
Mikasa finally threw in. “To be fair, Eren, you sort of yelled at him.”
“I was mad!”
Then, she shifted in her seat and she got firm, she got loud. “Look, I’m upset,
too, but I had to think about it a lot. And really, at the end of the day, I
want someone there. I want to know that if someone breaks into the house it’s
not down to me and you to defend ourselves. I wanna know there’s food waiting
at home, every night. I asked him if things were going to be different and he
said yes, they are. And he’s sorry.”
“I don’t believe that,” I said, shaking my head. In a way, sure, I understood
where she was coming from. But I’d grown up a lot since mom died, and I had dad
to thank for that in all the worst ways; ways that didn’t require his presence,
and ways that certainly didn’t involve me trusting him to change. “How can you
believe it?”
Another miniature explosion hit, rocked her, put a desperate snarl on her face
as she yelled, “Because I’ve had too many people die on me, and I don’t want to
just up and walk out on someone who’s still trying!”
My eyes flicked over to Levi only momentarily. I was torn between wanting to
pull Mikasa into my arms and apologize, or to keep arguing with her over where
dad’s heart really was. If my suspicions were correct, there was someone in
Pennsylvania I didn’t want to meet, someone he would swear wasn’t intended to
be a replacement for mom, and by the time he lured us there it would be too
late to say no. I’d said as much to Mikasa in the car.
Levi stayed silent. He hadn’t been smoking as much, since we’d been dating, but
he’d lit up during the conversation. I heard his cigarette tapping against the
edge of the ashtray while I looked back at Mikasa. She twisted up her face and
urged me silently to say something, anything. But what could I say?
Unexpectedly, it was Hanji who spoke up before anyone else. Her voice was
unusually calm, completely even. “Eren, Mikasa, I want to let you know that you
can stay with me if you want. You two don’t have to be homeless, okay?”
I didn’t have time to react, to tell her that wasn’t what was going to happen,
before I heard the chair next to me scoot back sharply. I turned and saw Levi
push away from the table, rising to his feet and turning away before I could
ask where he was going.
He went to the door. He walked out and shut it behind him. Puzzled and still
frazzled out of my wits. I looked at Hanji and shrugged. She shook a hand in
her hair (which appeared to have glitter in it) and gestured at the door as if
she had nothing to offer the situation other than an acute knowledge of how
impossible Levi was liable to be in any given situation.
I followed him.
“You should really be in there talking to your sister,” Levi warned me as I
came out on the landing. He was leaning over the edge of the railing, back bent
like a vulture, a strip of pale skin showing where his sweatpants rode down.
He’d only just placed a new cigarette between his lips. He shot me a quick
glance, which I couldn’t easily identify.
“She’s fine. We’ve talked a lot already.”
“Oh?” Levi turned toward me, leaving the cigarette in his mouth and patting
himself down until he found the lighter in his pocket. Tilting his head,
cupping his hands, he lit up. “Seems like she just dropped a small bomb on
you.”
“Well, okay, neither of us are fine, but—“ I shook my head and tried not to
growl in frustration. “What’s wrong with you? Why did you just walk out like
that?”
He glared. I thought he was about to come down hard on me for daring to
question his behaviors, but instead he just sighed and blew out the smoke with
the cigarette still between his lips. It billowed up and mixed with some steam
from his breath in the cold air. “Come on, I don’t want to have this
conversation in a stairwell in a low-rent apartment complex. I don’t want to be
those people.”
“What conversation?” My heart dropped. I just wanted to kiss him. He’d embraced
me sweetly when I showed up, stroked my hair, kissed me with every intention to
take care of my trauma and lick my wounds, but then I told him what the wounds
were. He’d closed off completely since then.
I wanted to assure him that I didn’t intend to leave, no matter what my dad
said. But that only seemed to be part of the problem to address.
“I might get mad at you, I might yell at you.” He checked to make sure I was
listening. I stayed stock-still. We were having this conversation in a
stairwell after all, it seemed.  He turned away before he continued. “You can’t
just run away. You can’t run away from your dad, not because he’s your dad, but
because at least it’s a chance. At least you have that chance, to get out, to
have support. Don’t fuck something up just because—“
“A chance to do what? To leave all my friends behind? To leave youbehind?”
“Pennsylvania’s like five hours away, I can—“
“No!”
Levi paused. “Is this what you did to him this morning? Shouting down reason?”
A ball was in my throat. It felt uncomfortable, heavy, like I was digging my
own grave but I didn’t want to stop. “I’m just starting to get my shit
together, I don’t want to leave.”
“Yeah, but there might come a day when you regret going it alone. I mean, I’m
standing here really believing in you, but at the same time I don’t know how
you’ll take that pressure when you also have to worry about your own bills,
your own job, your own life. That’swhat family is for, that’s what a parent is
for, and that’s what he’s offering to do, don’t you see that? I want you to go
to college, and how will you do that if he can’t help you, if his name can’t go
on a piece of paper so you can get loans or housing? Huh? I mean, sure! Sure
you can jump from crash pad to crash pad, rely on your friends, rely on
strangers even, but it’s limiting. Trust me, I’ve been there. Not having a
permanent address is shitty. You won’t be able to do so much. Even years down
the line it’ll have ramifications. I don’t want to see you just another piece
of poor trash at the vo-tech school because you can’t afford better, I want you
to have a choice.”
I held up a hand, and, upon realizing he was finished with his tirade after
all, I arched an eyebrow sharply at him and opened my mouth to speak. I
realized I had nothing to say. Or rather, I had everythingto say, but I
couldn’t express it. So I just ignored the process, ignored all attempts by my
brain to articulate why I was arriving at my gut feeling. I wasn’t good at
talking the way Levi was. I just opened my mouth.
The words were cold when I spoke them. “Don’t turn me into your project.”
Levi closed his eyes desperately, a wash of humility damping his face. He knew
just the way anyone knows. He knew that he fucked up. With a groan I could
barely hear, deep in his throat like he was fighting a horrible stomachache,
Levi turned to the railing and leaned over it. He put his whole body into a
long pause, like I could watch the way his heart dropped out and then started
beating again in the movement. “That’s not what I meant,” he finally said,
flicking away his cigarette, but I was already prepared with my retort.
“You want to turn me into what you couldn’t be, so you’re throwing me all this
fucking wisdom,like—“
He turned to me, still not looking right at me, hands pressed together in a
praying motion. “That’s notwhat I meant.”
“—I don’t want a dad! I’ve gotten by fine without a dad. I need a boyfriend.
I’m starting to feel like you don’t even think I can do anything on my own! I
don’t want all of these doubts, I just want someone to love me!”
I said it, as usual, before I knew what I was saying. And in my heart I knew it
was too soon. The fact that he made my world better, that I lit up when I was
around him, and that I looked forward to just talkingto him more than I ever
thought I would look forward to anything – all of that wasn’t enough to prop up
my needs over the fact that Levi wasn’t ready. That wasn’t something we’d
discussed, it was just something I felt. Intuition. So he let the words hang
unanswered between us, and looked up at me.
His eyes searched my face and his mouth drew into a long, unreadable
expression. I’d come across a word reading a William Faulkner story for English
– crestfallen. When I looked it up, I was really impressed that the word
sounded exactly like what it meant. That’s how Levi looked: crestfallen.
I worried about what he might say, but then he didn’t say anything. He stepped
forward and shrugged a little, opened his mouth but didn’t make a sound, closed
it again, screwed his eyes shut, and threw an arm around me.
When the emotion rose all at once from my belly and my feet to the tips of my
fingers and the edges of my eyelids, I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t even know I’d
been holding so much in. I wrapped my arms on him, too, and grabbed at the back
of his sweatshirt, clawed my hands into fists and pressed my mouth against the
side of his head. I wished I was short enough to just fit into the curve of his
shoulder and scream, using him as a muffler. 
“You’re not stupid,” he finally whispered, moving his hand in long stroking
motions on my back as it trembled. “You’re not worthless. Come on, give me a
little credit. I’m being honest with you, is all. I suck at this. I mean, I’m
really shit at this.”
“No!” I sniffled back tears that were threatening and pulled away a little to
look at him. “You’re good at this. So just… that’s all I want. Just someone to
believe in me. To say I’m good at being me, that I don’t have to be anything
but what I end up being. And this is harder because I don’t want to leave.”
It was one of the best-worded things I’d ever said, and I was just in the
momentenough to know it.
He took a deep breath, face still as morose as usual. I’d learned not to let it
bother me, because Levi’s body did most of the talking for him. He grabbed me
into another hug, this time putting both arms around my back. “People are
really good at letting you think you fucked things up, so don’t let anyone –
don’t let me– ever let you think that. Okay?”
I didn’t respond except to nod against his shoulder. I wondered what Hanji and
Mikasa were talking about, what they thought wewere talking about. I wondered
what I was missing at school, and how I was going to explain this to Armin. I
wondered if this would be my last chance to spend an almost-rainy October
morning on Levi’s balcony, knowing where I’d be sleeping come night.
“Are you mad at me?” Levi asked.
“A little.” It chilled me to know that I only wanted to hear advice on what I’d
already made up my mind to do. So the most terrifying thing was knowing I had
to figure it out on my own.
“Good. Think about everything I said.”
And that was it. That was actually it. I felt emptier than before when he
pulled away, because I was too much of a coward to ask outright whether he
wantedme to leave, to move away, to go with my dad.
Levi excused himself from the conversation, claiming his feet were about to
freeze off on the concrete of the landing. Before he reached the door he turned
on heel, though, one pointing finger in the air, and added something. “Just
remember something, okay? And this is neither here nor there but it’s something
I really want you to know. Not that I think you have much trouble with this,
but let’s be clear: you don’t owe your parents anything if they don’t respect
you. That’s bullshit, to be taught that just because they created you and made
sure you didn’t roll over in your crib and die, you owe them anything. So what
I’m saying is use him. Use him if you can, if he lets you. But then don’t think
you ever have to look back if he doesn’t respect you.”
 
When Mikasa asked whether I wanted to just get a ride home later, I told her
no. I asked her to drop me off back at the house. We talked all the way there,
but we still danced around the most important topic. When she turned down our
road, I finally sighed and asked her, “So do you think you want to go?”
She shook her head and whined, like it hurt her to think about it. “I don’t
know. I don’t fucking know yet. I have to think about this.”
“What if he told us we had to leave tonight, what would you do?”
She scoffed and shrugged, then slapped her hands back down on the steering
wheel. “I guess I’d go, okay? I guess I’d go.”
Rolling to a pause more than a stop, she wouldn’t even turn toward the curb to
drop me off. The implication was easy enough to understand. “I’m going to see
some friends,” she informed me curtly, and I nodded that I understood.
Dad was inside, on the phone at the kitchen table. When he saw me enter, he
gave me a dark and questioning look, leaning back in the chair slightly,
probably checking me for signs of a fight. I stood expectantly in the living
room and tried to summon up all my courage. Balling my fists, shuffling my
feet, taking deep breaths; none of it really worked, but I was good at fooling
myself. I remembered Levi’s words, his arms around me. That made it feel
better, at least, as mixed as his signals had been.
He finished the phone call quickly enough. “What are you doing back home?”
I was quick at making up lies when it mattered, even though I was obviously bad
at telling them. “I threw up in first period. Then I threw up again in English.
Armin told the teacher, and I got sent home.”
“Are you sick?”
“No!” I’d been hoping for some sharper acuity from the man responsible for
everything, but that was too much to ask. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I
mumbled, “I guess I’m just really stressed out over this. I can’t even think.”
“Who dropped you off?” He asked, and I looked him right in the eye.
“A friend.”
“Well,” he sighed. He was really putting on the dad act big time. Distracted,
like even for all the posturing I was still the last thing on his mind. “Go lay
down, I guess.”
“No. I've been thinking. I've been thinking, and we need to talk.”
***** Chapter 20 *****
Chapter Notes
     Eren's dad is an ass: the thrilling saga continues :(
     Also hey! There's now a 1994_FAQ on Tumblr, for all those burning
     questions you might have! :O
     Love you guys, please enjoy. Babbies get to talk again shortly, and
     maybe nuzzle, and probably frick a little. Also there's a Reiner/
     Bertl Aside on the way, it's like early Christmas here. Thanks so
     much for being patient these last two weeks. I'm almost out of the
     woods, work is about to go back to normal again! Best readers ever. :
     3
He offered me a seat at the table. I said, “No thanks, I’d rather stand up for
a bit.” I felt nervous, like at any moment I might need to flee, take off for
the first safe place I could find. Though completely unsure of why I felt that
way – dad had never been violent, at least – I knew I could run longer and
faster than he’d be able to catch up with if I needed to.
In the back of my mind I kept remembering what Levi had told me. I turned it
over a few times as dad spouted off some platitude I was only half-listening
to, and realized I was being charitable. I was giving him a chance. I was
standing there in front of dad, ready to state my case, and even though Levi’s
advice rang true because I knew dad had never respected me, not since mom died
and probably not before, I wanted something in my life to have a happy ending.
If not happy, at least agreeable. I didn’t want another thing to cry about. I
was doing that too much lately.
“So what did you want to talk about?”
I almost scoffed. Wasn’t it obvious? I bit my lip, though, and reminded myself
that I had to use him if he would let me. Maybe that took swallowing a thing or
two. I just tightened my jaw a bit before I launched into it. “I don’t want to
go,” I said plainly, to begin.
Dad sighed before I was even finished saying it, and scooted forward in his
chair like it would make his half-hearted gestures of diplomacy more
believable. “I know, Eren, but—“
“—I really want to tell you why, though. Can I tell you why?” I interrupted
him, yes, but this time I didn’t shout. I was as calm as I remembered ever
being, because everything hinged for once on letting myself talk. I was
normally so good at that. Why, when it mattered most, did I not want to say a
word? Why was my heartbeat speeding up, like it knewfor once?
As if acknowledging my attempt at approaching things calmly, dad nodded and
waved at me to go on. He looked so skeptical. I tore my eyes away from his face
and focused on the kitchen window instead. “It just means a lot to me, to stay
right now. Things are going right. Like… don’t be mad at me, but—“ Why was I
saying that? I sort of wantedhim to be mad at me, actually. I wanted him to
give me an excuse. I sighed. “But I’m really getting used to things without
you. I’m doing good in school, I really am! I’m not getting into trouble as
much as I used to, I’m getting B’s. I think I might be able to get an A by the
end of the semester in English. I’m actually really good at it, and I’m glad
I’m good at it, but I just think it’s all to do with being here. You know?”
He didn’t say anything, just nodded slowly and looked down at the table, rubbed
his chin with his thumb. I took another breath and went on. My heartbeat had
reached a point where it felt like it wasn’t even pounding anymore; all I felt
was the feedback of blood rushing around in my head and neck, throbbing.
Strange. “Dad, I don’t know if there’s any way we can stay, but if we can it
would mean so much. I thought I’d hate this school. I thought I’d just flunk
out, and I know you know I thought that because I said so. But so much has
happened.” I felt myself toeing dangerous boundaries, and pushed a hand up
through my hair, looking around nervously. I shored up my courage to keep going
and hoped I wouldn’t say something wrong. “I made new friends and they’re
really good friends.” I said something he might appreciate: “They’re good
influences.  I’ve got this job, and I’m starting to realize how much I like
cars, and I think I might want to start working on doing that more seriously,
and… just…” I shrugged mightily and shook my head. I knew I had to say
something else, to keep going, to not let him elbow in. “I really… really…”
I almost broke down. I’d thought I might be able to get through it without
letting my emotions get the better of me, so I growled as I felt the tears
coming on. Wiping at my eyes angrily, trying to pretend they weren’t there, I
looked down at the floor and gritted my teeth.
“I thought you and Mikasa both hated it here,” dad said, softer than I’d
expected.
“I did.” Sniffling, I nodded. “Until like three months ago.”
“You think it’s the school?”
I wasn’t sure whether to nod. Sure, yes, that was a good cover, yes. Let’s put
that responsibility on the school. But then my stupid tendency toward honesty
kicked in – honesty where it really mattered – and I shrugged again. “And I’m
seeing someone. I met someone.”
Dad had no idea why I clapped my hand over my mouth and screwed my eyes shut at
that, almost crying out because the stab of sudden pain and worry hurt so much.
Not just for Levi, but for myself and for everything I’d come so close to
revealing.
I heard dad lean back into his chair, heard the squeak of the old wooden joints
as he thought about it. When I opened my eyes I kept them down, and sniffled my
way to finally take the seat he’d offered. I leaned on my elbows against the
table and put my hands in my hair. “I just really don’t want to leave,” I
mumbled desperately.
“I’ve been on the phone a lot today,” dad started. I tensed. “I’m trying to see
if I can push back my start date. Or if I can commute. Stay there for a couple
of days, drive back down here and stay for a couple of days. Switch off.”
“Why do you suddenly care?”
He was silent for a few seconds, and in that time I realized how sick it made
me, to feel like he was making a sacrificefor us, doing something special by
trying to be there. He was going to turn it to his favor, I just knew it. Oh,
dad’s working so hard, driving back and forth, risking so much.It was still the
same bullshit. I didn’t want to listen to what he had to say even when he said
it. “It took me too long to get the nerve to fix things, and now that I’ve
committed to that I can’t just go halfway. I don’t want you to resent me for
trying to be a good dad.”
He didn’t say anything about loving me, loving Mikasa.
Today was exhausting.
The confusion was crippling my ability to think. I held up my palms for a
moment, feeling like I’d just been surrounded by his words, put into a position
where I couldn’t talk back without seeming ungrateful or contentious or
selfish. Maybe he was a con man after all. Maybe he only  knew how to
manipulate, and that was something I wasn’t good enough to guard against. I
just knew that I was still feeling uncomfortable, and I shouldn’t have ever
felt that way. Not with my dad, not with anyone I was going to allow to uproot
my life, young as I was. The compassion wasn’t right.
Again, I wanted the excuse. The excuse to run away.
Dad was still talking. “You’ve found these things here on your own, but it’s
not that easy for me. It’s not easy for me to find a job here.” Probably
because he’d been arrested, Mikasa said once. He had to find a place that
didn’t do background checks, and that wouldn’t be able to ask around. “I’m
proud of you. I really am.” He didn’t sound like it. “I’m so proud of your work
at school, and your job, and I’m happy that you have a girlfriend, but—“
“No.” I said it. And this time it wasn’t before I could stop myself. This time
I wantedto say it. Because dad was someone I shouldn’t have needed to be
careful around.
“What?” He looked annoyed that I’d cut him off.
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend. I’m gay.”
I was glad I was sitting down. My pulse started to rabbit in my throat again.
The blood churned in my head so thickly that everything went dark around the
edges of my vision for a moment, like I was going to pass out from the rush of
being so truthful, so quickly, so recklessly.
But I didn’t think oh no,I didn’t wonder what I had done, not even for a
second. My tears dried up almost instantly and my nose tingled. I looked right
at dad and watched the spot between his eyebrows crease before he said, again,
with a completely different tone, “What?”
“You heard what I said.” My voice almost gave out, like my body knew it should
be retreating even though my brain was barreling forward.
He shook his head and lifted his hands, waving them like he was trying to erect
an invisible wall between us. “I just—that’s very sudden. You’ve never—do you
even know what that means, Eren?”
My mouth fell open a little bit, thankfully before I could laugh out loud.
Anger was fueling that laughter, though, and shock that he would say such a
thing. His denial was practically tangible. “Yeah…? I do.”
“But you’re—“
“I’m sixteen, dad! You’ve barely paid attention to me since I was little, what
would you know about who I am, anymore?” I almost came up out of my chair at
that, leaning toward him from the corner of the table.
It was worth the fear suddenly building like a void in my stomach, to see dad
looking unsure, honest, emotionalfor once. “Eren, I know you care a lot about
your friends. You’re very close to them, but that doesn’t mean—“
“Dad, that’s not it!” I did stand up at that, feeling hurt instead of
frightened, putting my palms on the table that was still a safe barrier between
us. I just wanted him to do something, I just wanted him to take a stand.
“That’s not it at all! I know what this is; I have a boyfriend!”
He shook his head. He actually shook his head, like the whole thing was just a
horrible joke. Hurt left – he wasn’t worth being hurt by – and anger took over.
“If you’re doing this to get a rise out of me, to try and shock me into—“
“Dad, no! This is important, this is what I am. I mean, are you madat me?”
Shattered, that’s how he looked. I don’t know if it was just the connection of
our blood, something intangible that I knew I shouldn’t have been feeling, but
seeing his face like that just made the void in my stomach grow.
“Maybe you’re just confused…”
“No!” My voice trembled on laughter that was fueled by my anger, and I pointed
firmly at my chest. “This is me. I’m your son and this is who I am. I have a
boyfriend, I like boys, I kiss boys, I suck cock—“
I felt myself stumble back before I realized that dad’s hands had connected
with my shoulders. When I realized what had happened, all in the split-second
after he’d shoved me, I was already bracing myself against the chair. On
instinct, my mouth curled into a smirk, because it was just unbelievable.
Unbelievable, that someone I didn’t even knowcould presume to have so much
authority over me.
I was only marginally scared, because if he hit me what was I going to do? Tell
someone? Go to the police? Go to Child Services? Be put in foster care for
another two years? But that was beneath everything else. He’d given me the
excuse. Now it was up to him to decide how strong he wanted that to be. I
spread my arms, shrugged challengingly, kept wearing my smirk like a fucking
champion.
I saw a long, slow breath fill his chest as dad stood up. I leaned forward
slightly. Neither of us said a word. My smirk turned into a smile.
What are you going to do about it? How are you going to be a good dad after
that? How are you going to guilt me into obedience afterthat one, huh?
I almost started laughing when he walked right past me, grabbed the keys to his
Mustang off the coffee table, and slammed the door when he left. Then the
laughter actually built up – disbelief, relief, fear, everything – I grabbed my
stomach and started to shake, fell against the table and whined when a flash of
painful anxiety ran through me. The laughter turned into coughing. The coughing
turned into tears. I pounded on the table and said fuck youa few times, threw
my arm out through the papers dad had left there to send them fluttering
everywhere. 
Eventually I had to get back up, so I did. Recovering was surprisingly easy. I
walked around the house aimlessly for several minutes, almost peaceful in the
numbness, ate half a bag of potato chips, then realized how exhausted I was. I
thought of calling Levi, but didn’t have the energy to explain what had
happened.
I grabbed my favorite photo of mom off the mantel in the living room, and took
it into my room. I pulled off my shirt and pulled on Levi’s. I wore it
sparingly so I wouldn’t have to wash it, so I could still lift the collar to my
nose and smell him. I lay down on the bed and talked to mom’s photo a little
bit. I told her I was sorry, propped the fame on my writing desk so I could
look at her and slow my breathing, trick myself into thinking she was smiling
at me and making me feel safe surrounded by the smell and atmosphere of home. I
pretended like she would tilt her head and then shake it at me when I told her
about Levi , about me– not the way dad shook his head, but sweetly, like she
couldn’t believe I’d been so worked up to admit what she’d have known all
along, would have supported no matter what. Then I slept.
I think dad came back to pack later. I must have been asleep and he must have
been quiet. When I woke up again, it was like walking out into a brain teaser
version of my own house. I knew something was off but I had to figure it out on
my own. First I realized that the toaster was gone, when I went to the kitchen
for a glass of water and didn’t see it beneath the cabinet. He’d taken two
lamps, the blender, mom’s favorite old foot locker that we’d filled with her
keepsakes, and almost all the photos from the mantel. My heart ached a little
bit, and I then I remembered that I’d grabbed my favorite picture of mom first.
I felt so much better after that. The afghan on the couch was gone, too. I was
surprised he’d left the television and the other furniture. He’d probably only
taken what he could move quickly, what he could fit in his car.
I don’t know how I knew he wasn’t coming back, but I did.
So in the end it wasn’t me who ran away. It wasn’t Mikasa.
It was dad.
When Mikasa got home I pretended to be interested in the television. It was an
HBO free preview weekend and I was watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.
She sat down to watch the movie with me at first, throwing her bag on the couch
between us.
Then she noticed the photos were gone. “What happened?” She asked. Then, she
added, “Where’s dad?”
“Dad left,” I said, pointedly not looking at her. I crossed my arms tighter.
For a few moments, she contemplated how I’d said it. “Will he be home for
dinner?”
“Mikasa, dad left.” Maybe I was being too harsh, but I was only starting to
contemplate some of the harsher realities. He’d stop paying the mortgage. He’d
stop paying for power, water, gas, and winter was coming. So I’d snapped. I
looked at her and tried to seem pitiful.
“Oh… kay,” she tilted her head slightly and took in a deep breath, but remained
pretty stalwart considering. “Did he say anything?”
She started to breathe quicker. I could see it. “He didn’t say much. I talked
to him when you dropped me off. I told him how I felt. Then I told him I was
gay—“
“Oh, Eren—“
“—he freaked out and pushed me, and then he ran out. He must have come back to
pack while I was sleeping earlier.”
“Eren.” Mikasa’s tone was everything and for a moment I felt like I’d made the
worst mistake of my life. The way her face went lifeless, the way she looked
around like she suddenly didn’t know where she was – I just wanted her to not
be hurt. I wanted to say something.
All I could say was, “I had to tell him.”
“Yeah, but…” She grabbed her forehead, pushed her fingers up through her bangs.
She’d tied her hair back in her bandana that day. Annie had apparently been
teaching her different hairstyles, and Mikasa, who usually only left her hair
down and didn’t even know how to use a curling iron, was suddenly in buns and
French twists and braids more often than I would have expected. She’d seemed so
happy. I couldn’t believe she would have been okay with leaving.
But there it was. She didn’t finish her remark but I knew what she meant. It
was all back on her shoulders again, the responsibility of keeping us safe and
the knowledge that we had no back-up.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked when she didn’t talk for a very long time after
that.
“Did you think for a minute about me? Did you think I might have wanted to get
out? Maybe he would have at least taken me!”
It hit me hard, and I caught my breath after feeling like she’d thrown me off
my equilibrium. Blinking hard a couple of times, glad that at least I didn’t
start crying, I was nonetheless relatively quiet when I responded, “Would you
really have left? Would you really have left me alone?”
She wasn’t sure what to say, or at least it seemed that way. She’d brought her
feet up onto the cushions and was hugging her knees, looking at me over the
line of her arm.
I was reminded, almost, of the way I’d been staring at Levi earlier. After I
mentioned the l-word and poured out my heart. Maybe it wasn’t fair of me to
saddle Mikasa with a moral quandary right after proving to be, yet again,
something she was tethered to, whether she wanted to be or not.
Mikasa wasn’t alone. I wasn’t using her. I’d never use her. She meant the world
to me. Even if I lost Levi and Armin and all my other friends, my job and my
future, I’d have her. That was the only thing I could think about.
So I reached over, pushing her bag out of the way. “You don’t have to answer
that. That was shitty to ask.” I put my arms around her and felt her muscles
shrug beneath me. She let go of her knees and leaned back into the cushions,
exhaled shakily and then took in a more stable breath. Mikasa held onto me and
then surged toward me, wrapped her arms around me so tight I thought I might
burst.
“Of course I wouldn’t leave you,” she sighed against me. “I just wanted to
chance to not worry for once, about everything. That’s all.”
“You’re the only one I have. My only family,” I managed, and finally she
loosened her arms enough to let me breathe.
“Yeah, same here,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I talked out of my ass and
I’m sorry dad’s a piece of shit. But I love you. I love you no matter what you
tell me or who you are.”
“I love you, too.” Both of us sounded odd when we said it, like buried in the
words was a question of whether we were ready, and an answer that we had no
more time to decide. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.
We sat together on the couch until the movie was over, just being close and
crying and being angry at dad, laughing about memories, and talking until it
got uncomfortable to talk.
In one way, I guess it was exhilarating. “I guess I’ll have to get a job,”
Mikasa said.
“Yeah. I’ll ask for more hours at mine.”
“I’m going to see about graduating early, going to work full time. I’m sure the
school will be glad to get rid of me.” She stood up and stretched, chuckling in
an attempt to make light. “I mean, I turn 18 really soon anyway. Since that’s
the case… shit… we’ll just figure it out.”
“Oh, yeah.” Her birthday was December 2nd.
She needed to eat, and I needed to tell Armin. In the car, I fished Levi’s tape
out of the glove compartment and popped it back in, forgetting which song I’d
left it on. The tape started playing in the middle of the Violent Femmes’
“American Music”, and as I drove to Armin’s I sang along and drummed on the
steering wheel. It was almost worrying, how strangely free I felt, even knowing
that I was one confession or encounter away from some well-meaning person
trying to step in and fix my family, to treat me like a charity case. Really,
my family didn’t need fixing at all. My real family, that is. Mikasa and me. We
were actually okay. It was just another thing to get used to, but we were
skilled at adapting. We trusted each other to work it out, to stay around.
By eight o’clock I’d told Armin and I’d also told his grandfather, who assured
me that, if push came to shove, we were always welcome under their roof. The
Arlert house was in disrepair, of course, and the vacant bedroom was full to
the brim with random family things and antiques, but I knew something could be
done. Armin and I could share a bedroom, if it came down to it, and Mr. Arlert
was even selfless enough to offer to sleep on the couch. Taken aback by the
generosity, I told him that wouldn’t be necessary. On my way out the door,
Armin hugged me even though we’d never been very big on hugging, and told me
that if I even thought about leaving him, he’d find a way to let me stay. “I’ll
hide you in our basement if I have to,” he added. I laughed and told him his
basement was terrifying, but thanks for the thought.
When I got home at ten o’clock, Jean called me. He didn’t often call, and he
liked talking to me on the phone only marginally more than he liked doing so in
person, so I guess that made it easier. Armin must have told him what was going
on. “Hey.” He kept it short. “We’re gonna talk about this. I might be able to
help you guys out. I’m sorry about the bullshit with your dad, but it’s good
that you’re staying.”
Mikasa took the phone after I hung up, and told me she had a friend I hadn’t
met who was going to try and get her a job. When I asked her what the job was,
she almost smiled, shrugged, and said she didn’t want to jinx it, but she’d let
me know. She took the phone off the wall, ran the cord down the hall, and shut
it inside of her room for privacy. When she emerged about an hour later, she
advised me that she was going to take dad’s bedroom if I didn’t want it. If I
did want it, she said, we could fight for it. I didn’t want it. I liked my
tiny, messy room.
Exhilarating, and terrifying at the same time. I had no idea how to pay bills.
I didn’t know what I was going to do about insurance on my new car, if I could
still afford payments on it with everything else. Insurance on the station
wagon, then. I didn’t even have a bank account, yet; I’d been cashing my
paychecks and stuffing the money into a box. Mikasa and I talked about it, and
we agreed that we wouldn’t consider dad completely out of our lives until he
stopped paying the bills. When that happened, then we would act in earnest.
Until then, contingencies were being formed.
Before things got too somber again, even though a veil of serious consideration
was hanging over everything (was that adulthood, horning its way in already?),
Mikasa said, “Go see your boyfriend,” and then, “Goodnight.”
On the way to the Bent Ducat, I hoped Hanji would let me have a beer for once.
If not, I wanted Levi to pour me a glass of whiskey back at his place. I felt
like I deserveda drink.      
 
***** Chapter 21 *****
Chapter Notes
     First of all, my URL at Tumblr has changed. I a now wangs-of-freedom,
     so donut be confused. I’ll work on updating all the 1994-related
     links shortly, such as the asides etc (and maybe just finally upload
     them to AO3? Idek)
     Also, something of note for this chapter: mental health treatment and
     psychiatry were still relatively young in the early 90’s. I have no
     idea what Levi’s exact diagnosis is in the story, because that’s not
     the focus. Probably, he’s been saddled with everything from manic-
     depressive to histrionic to obsessive-compulsive, but nothing really
     lands because even Levi has no idea what’s the truth about himself.
     He’s just now starting to work with it, but my point is: people are
     complex and mental health is complex and sometimes mental health is
     an unstoppable freight train if not handled properly. So what’s
     making Levi change? Responsibility, maybe. Emotional responsibility,
     probably. Take that with a grain of salt.
Dealing with everything in the middle of the club felt weird at first, but
after Nana supplied me with a shot of tequila under Hanji’s nose, I started to
loosen up just enough. I made it to the Bent Ducat half a song into Levi’s
show, and elected to stand alongside the front counter with Hanji, watching. It
calmed my nerves to stand apart, to not feel like I was just part of a scene
playing itself out. “Alone” was still in the set, and that’s where I walked in.
Between spectating and getting caught up in the way Tirne played to the crowd
just the same whether she knew I was in the audience or not, I filled Hanji in
on what was happening. She asked whether Mikasa was okay. I said yes. She asked
me if I was sure. I just sighed. “Neither of us are really 100% right now.”
“Well, you know where to find us. And my offer still stands,” she said.
Hanji’s co-owner, Moblit (a nice enough guy, if a little worked-up about
something all the time) came to relieve her of her station. He didn’t seem to
care about my age, either, though I knew the only stipulation about that was
making sure I didn’t drink. Hanji walked me out to the floor as Tirne worked
her way through the second of two Gloria Estefan songs. I asked Levi once, why
he loved her so much. “Because she’s inspiring and beautiful, and because my
hips move too much for most other standard divas. And she’s my height.”
Tirne caught my eye near the end of the song, and bowed her head in just the
right way to acknowledge my presence.  
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Nana, who still really only knew me via Levi and
Hanji, was glued to the chair next to mine. She usually stood in support on the
side stage during Tirne’s shows, but had scurried to the floor to find me.
“I promise, I am,” I half-chuckled, not wanting all the attention.
“Okay…” She started, obviously only half convinced. “Let me know if things
change. My daddy didn’t find out until I was 23, and he almost pulled a rifle
down during Thanksgiving dinner, so trust me, you can bend my ear if you want.”
She hugged me. She sounded a lot more distraught than I did, even if she was
cooing her words. I’d had time to think about it, though. And whether it had
been her intention, Nana had only put it into perspective. It could have been
much worse.
When Levi emerged from the dressing room once the lights on the stage had
dimmed, well after Nana slipped me a shot and made me promise never to tell
Hanji, I was almost disappointed to see that he had changed.
“Why did you change?” I asked when the small crowd around the table dispersed
to allow us some time to talk.
He glared at me, pointedly but still playfully, and put a hand through his
hair. It was, as it usually was after a show, mussed by his wig cap and just
unruly enough to look intentionally so. “This seemed better for the
conversation we’ll be having.” He seemed fidgety without a cigarette in his
hand, so I reached under the table and put my fingers around his. Immediately,
it seemed to calm him a little, but his smirk said that he knew what I was
doing. “So… I’m assuming things happened.”
I told him the short of it. Levi leaned closer as I relived the story, as it
became more private, as I threw in more personal consideration than I had with
Hanji or Nana. Our shoulders touched and we were both leaning with our arms
crossed on the table, while Levi nodded occasionally at my words or interjected
with a nondescript grunt.
He put his arm around me, and just sat there with his head leaned into my
shoulder. “This music isn’t what we need to be hearing right now,” he informed
me eventually, and I couldn’t help agreeing with a nod. Something about the
upbeat throb of dance music wasn’t doing much to help me think about things.
“Let’s get out of here.”
We slipped out and didn’t really say goodbye to anyone. Levi led me by the hand
into the parking lot and opened his passenger door for me. I wanted to make
some joke about him being a gentleman when he wanted, but it wasn’t the right
time. I let him have the moment, and just thanked him as I slid inside. He’d
put a new air freshener in his car and the whole thing smelled like leather,
which was perfect for the fall and perfect for his habitat.
“See what happens when you’re brave?” Levi said, backing out of his spot.
“People shit all over you when you’re brave, or they feel sorry for you because
of the people who shit on you. Not enough people really thank you, but that’s
what you need. Thanks. Thanks for being someone who doesn’t let circumstance
call him out.”
I had to think about his phrasing for a moment. I’d heard things from Levi, of
course. More details about his past, about his estrangement from his parents.
They kicked him out for being a drug addict. They changed the locks because
they asked around town to try and find him, and in the process found out he was
gay, heard rumors that he was prostituting himself, heard worse than that. Levi
never actually got to have the conversation with his parents. He still
maintained that they were good people, in the same breath that he maintained
he’d never talk to them again.
I always figured it was because he wanted them to remain okay in his memories.
Being angry at him for drugs, that was easy to excuse. Never wanting to see him
again because of who he had sex with; that was something Levi never wanted to
face. Just like I never wanted to see my dad again.
I asked him as much, finally. Wherever we were driving, although I had my
suspicions, I filled up the time by asking him timidly about his reasons for
never saying anything.
“I don’t know,” he said, in that flip way that assured me he did know, but he
wasn’t ready to admit it. “I was so good, growing up. Even when I got all weird
before I hit puberty – stealing shit and vandalizing shit and jumping off the
roof to see if I’d survive”—he had, with only a sprained ankle—“there was
always some explanation they had. When my mom had me put on lithium I was like
all right, this is going to do it, this is gonna fix me. Mom loves me and she’s
going to fix me, but it was all just another way to control me because I was
still that good kid. They didn’t want to address the possibility that maybe
they had a complex kid, they just wanted that good kid back. So they started
throwing drugs at me, and never talking to me about it, taking me to Disney
World and buying me things I wanted, but not noticing when I started selling my
pills in middle school so I could get better drugs. I lied to shrinks so I
could get harder stuff that sold for more. It all went downhill from there.
Talking to them about being gay? They didn’t want to talk to me about things
that were actually wrongwith me, why would they want to talk to me about
something I actually felt okay with? They’d think it was another symptom.
Besides, I thought I was lucky. Lucky that I had a good life. Why jeopardize
that with truth, after all they forgave me for?”
Levi was honest with me about things that were wrong with him, at least. He’d
stay up for days, sometimes. He got quietly obsessive about his projects – re-
organizing his kitchen or cleaning a room top to bottom, or even just sewing a
dress – and sometimes wouldn’t talk to me at all when I was over. He’d
apologize ahead of time, actually, let me know that he was “feeling weird,” but
I didn’t see a big change. His depression hit hard when it did hit, but I
hadn’t seen it hit yet. He prepared me, at least. It was okay, I told him. I
just wanted to know. When he needed to, he took pills that were supposed to be
for seizures, and he got them from someone who worked at the club. He showed me
where he kept them, so I could keep an eye on them in case he started acting
strange.
A lot of things, words, desperate diagnoses had been thrown at him before he
turned 15 and his parents stopped caring whether he went to psychiatrists.
“When I get on my feet, like actually on my feet,” he swore to me one night
just a week or two ago, “I’m going to go back to a doctor and I’m actually
going to work with someone and we’ll figure out what’s really up with my head.”
I told him he didn’t have to. He said he wanted to. “If there isn’t anything up
with me, then all the better.”
But that wasn’t what Levi wanted to talk about. “The way you went about it with
your dad was perfect. You explained what was right with life. You told him you
were fucking happy, so the reaction he had, that bullshit he pulled? That’s
100% on him. That’s all his fucking inability to get over his prejudice.
Homophobic fuck.”
He didn’t apologize for calling my dad that, and I was glad he didn’t.
The radio was on. He liked to play the radio lately, trying to expand his own
musical horizons beyond the stuff he’d grown up on, the albums he loved. It was
the alternative rock station we both enjoyed. They were playing Frente! and I
almost didn’t want to interrupt. “You know…” I fidgeted a little and shrugged.
“For everything you say about being fucked up and stuff, you give really good
advice. I’ve never met anyone who’s as real as you. Selfless, I guess.”
Levi sort of chuckled, and turned the wheel slowly. “Not going to argue, since
that’s your opinion, but… thanks?” Sure enough, the car edged off the road and
onto the gravel shoulder for the old abandoned field where we’d had our first
kiss. “Well, you can chalk that up to not being sure if I even had a self, for
a long time. Everything in between Tirne sort of felt like existingfor a while,
so I just tried to watch other people so I could find out what to do. Turns out
that watching people, listening, is the best way to realize a lot of truth.
Nah, that sounds conceited. I suck, I’m sorry. Please don’t idolize me or
anything, I’m not worth that.”
I let him say it, and half-smiled. I didn’t tell him not to self-deprecate. He
had the biggest ego under the sun. He just liked to deflect whenever he wanted
the conversation to actually be about something else. He was right, of course.
About not idolizing him and also about just watching people. I’d already been
observing him a lot. And I was seeing a lot of truth, just in that. Maybe it
was naïve truth, because of how much I had yet to see, but I liked it. With
people like Jean and Mikasa, too, it was helping. To stop reacting for a minute
and take in someone else. It was cool.
But then I thought about dad again.
“I keep feeling it, over and over. His hands shoving me. Which is weird because
I didn’t even know it was happening when it did.” I rolled my shoulders out
uncomfortably and scowled. Levi slowed the car to a stop and put it in park.
He turned halfway and looked at me, blinked slowly, nodded. “I know what you
mean.”
That in particular was a chilling moment of empathy. I could practically feel
him understanding me, like it was a tangible force that crept into my veins.
For everything he’d already told me, there were things I still wasn’t ready to
ask him about.
 “Are you cold?” He asked me.
“Not really.”
It was milder outside than it was yesterday. Just a bit less warmer than it had
been during the hayride.
“You wanna get on the hood?” He leaned forward and stared up at the sky through
the windshield, grimacing to get the best look. “Looks pretty clear out. Stars
and shit.”
“Okay.”
Levi turned the radio up and left the doors open. The Pretenders, “Middle of
the Road” had me chuckling when he slid in next to me. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, just… I thought this was a new song when I first heard it on the
radio, because it was on this station. I went to the mall and tried to buy this
album and then I found out pretty much everything by the Pretenders was during
the 80’s. I don’t know, it’s just funny to me.”
“Didn’t you do the same thing with Talking Heads?” He shifted, took one hand
out of his pocket and put in into mine, lacing our fingers inside the corduroy
pocket of my Billabong jacket.
“Yes,” I scoffed, and we laughed again.
“Give me a kiss, you idiot.” He smirked and shook his head, and we kissed.
“Okay, so I’m just going to say it. I feel somewhat responsible for this whole
thing but that might be my self-centered asshole mode coming out to play.”
“Responsible? For what?”
“For… I don’t know how to put it… for your sexual awakening,I guess.” He said
it so sarcastically that I had to laugh when he did. “Fuck it, that’s such a
dick thing to assume.”
“It actually isa dick thing, though. Literally it’s about dicks.”
He used his opposite arm to shove me, and I cackled. “Dick,” he growled.
“Seriously, though! No, I mean… you helped? But the thing is, I’ve been
wondering for a while now. Like when Armin came out to me I was immediately
like oh, great, no big deal. That wasn’t totally because I supported him
blindly. It was almost relief, I guess? Because I had my share of confusion,
since I started masturbating.”
Levi guffawed at that, and it produced a nearly uncomfortable groan from me. It
had seemed more genuine than saying since puberty. Things were fine in the wide
open daylight world, until I got my hands around my dick and started to realize
that thinking of other dudes was the only thing that got me off, sometimes.
“But meeting you was like… I guess you were the first guy who was really my
sort of attractive? And I had no idea what my type was, maybe?”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean, the way you look, like your face and stuff? Your body? It hit me
like a ton of bricks but I was conditioned to be all oh god, agoth, ugh stay
away from me.”
“Are you shitting me? For real?” He sat up halfway, crying out like that was a
revelation that amused the hell out of him.
I covered my face with my hands. “Yes! That’s just not my crowd! But then,
like, you literally pulled it out of me, that night we drove to the park and
you were like make out with me. I wasn’t ready for that because even though I
was sort of thinking yeah I think you’re really pretty, I’d never had… this is
going to sound weird… permissionto think another guy was pretty before.”
Levi’s amusement subsided politely, and he nodded before he fell back down to
fit his shoulder against mine. “I get that. But I’m not totally a goth, you
know. I’ve been growing out of that, little by little. The clothes, though. I
love the clothes.”
“I know, I know. But yeah, no. Don’t feel responsible in a bad way, feel
responsible in a good way.”
“Ah, okay. Can do. What happened was still bullshit.” He put his hand back in
my pocket and I squeezed it.
“What happened was still a lotof bullshit. We’ll get through it.”
“We all will.”
“That’s what I meant. Together.”
Levi turned his head toward mine, pulled at my chin with his other hand, and
kissed me. A breeze blew through the field that sent a chill down my back, so I
arched against him and we cuddled together for warmth and companionship.
We made out through the next song, kissing deeply and keeping our hands beneath
our jackets, pressing our chests and curling our legs together with tensing
stretches brought on by the chilliness. The hood beneath us was warm, at least.
Levi’s lips were hot, at least.
He broke away from the kiss and breathed out quickly as one song stopped
playing and another began. I knew the song; the night DJ played it sometimes
and I liked it. I had no idea who sang it or what it was called, but I ventured
to guess it was something like “Look Up to the Sky” because the lyrics
certainly repeated that phrase enough.
“I love this song,” he said.
“It’s good.”
The first line of the first verse was already over, and I was so caught up in
just holding Levi there and looking at him, feeding off of his warmth, that I
was dumbstruck when I noticed that his lips were moving along with the next
words.
He started to sing softly.
“I’d believe forever was a lonely place to wait
I can see inside your eyes
Mirrors soaking up the lies
I believe, like I believe
Miracles and destiny you make your own reality
I knew when I look up to the sky…”
At one point he closed his eyes. Then, he opened them again, but didn’t really
focus on my face until the second verse. He sang the entire song and kissed me
gently during the breaks. I just stayed silent, stunned, breathed and swallowed
as quietly as possible. I kept my leg moving gently on his, because I couldn’t
possibly stop feeling him. I squeezed Levi’s waist with just my fingertips,
assuring him that I was listening, that I loved it. He faded out on the final
“Ba da bop ba…”and quickly glanced down, his eyes fluttering shut like he
didn’t want to look at me all of a sudden.
“That was beautiful,” I whispered, and moved my hand up to his hair. Finding
out that Levi was a great singer was not what I had planned for the evening,
but it was definitely a welcome distraction from my troubles.
“That song’s off the Kalifornia soundtrack. I listen to it and lay down on my
bed sometimes. Just zone out, look at the ceiling fan, get quiet; for some
reason that song really helps me.”
“I wish we could play it again. Or I want you to just sing it again.”
Levi pushed his nose into my hair and breathed in, then kissed the line of my
jaw. “I don’t sing for just anyone, you know.”
“Yeah,” I sighed.
Our hands continued to roam. Our lips moved with slow, unruly kisses and Levi
pushed his cold fingers beneath my shirt. He opened his mouth on mine for every
gasp, smirking or chuckling softly at me until I grabbed at his ass and he
started letting out the same unbidden little reactions.
It felt different. Maybe it was being out under the stars, maybe it was the
cold, or maybe it was that finally we’d crossed a comfortable line. All I
wanted was to be there; I didn’t care what we were doing. I didn’t have to have
him, in any way. I wasn’t overwhelmed by a need for anything other than Levi’s
presence. He felt safe, like a reassurance that everything would be okay.
Still, his hand maneuvered between our bodies and the tight heat of our
embrace. While I gasped he pulled my belt apart and reached inside my pants
only far enough to wrap his fingers around my cock and start jerking me off.
Kissing my neck as I dug my fingers into his shoulders to pull him closer, Levi
barely said a word until I came all over my stomach and into his hand.
He only suffered the dirty details under exacting circumstances. Immediately,
Levi slid off the hood long enough to find some napkins in his glove box, and
glanced around the area with an adorably suspicious glint in his eyes before he
pulled me over and kissed the spots he cleaned up for me. All the while, I
laughed.
When he pulled my hand up to kiss it, his eyelashes tickled the top of my palm.
Levi asked me to take him home. To my place, to my bed. To Mikasa. Because she
needed her brother.
“Our walls are really thin,” I started, doing up my pants. “I don’t think—“
“We’re not going there to fuck. I’m going there to make sure you’re safe
tonight.”
I picked up the station wagon and Levi picked up a pizza before we met at the
house. The driveway was packed to the point that it looked like a party was
going on. Annie was over, it turned out. I’d actually never been so happy to
see her. She was a friend. For every friend I reminded myself that I had, or
Mikasa had, another fraying thread in my heart stitched itself back up.
I showered because I felt gross from the events of the day, and when I returned
I found the Trivial Pursuit board set up in the living room. I lost easily, but
we did everything to make the experience as hilarious as possible. It turned
out that Annie and Levi were well matched in both trivia and their need to
prove their intelligence, so the game was taken very seriously.
After Annie won, Levi excused himself to use the bathroom. He made it a point
to tell me, and by proxy tell everyone, that he managed not to piss on the
shower curtain in the process. There was no way out of explaining that story to
the entire group, then.
“Gross,” Annie mentioned, tipping back a beer from the six-pack she’d brought
over. “Guys are gross.”
“I’m not gross,” Levi said, a barb of defensiveness in his voice.
“Well, penises are gross.”
“You’re a lesbian, then?” Levi asked. Thank god someone asked it.
She shrugged. “Guys are cute and all, good to make out with, but keep your
freakin’ pants on. I’ll eat a pussy, though. They’re pretty. They make sense”
I almost choked on my beer. Mikasa wasn’t reacting, exactly. I tried not to
think about it, just the same as she was likely trying not to think about my
morning after with Levi.
“We’re practically opposites,” Levi said blithely, and laughed. “Dicks are
majestic and beautiful. Dicks make me believe there is a god. Meanwhile,
vaginas...” He just made a gesture and a sour face, like the thought of female
genitalia didn’t make sense to him at all.
“Tits, though,” Mikasa threw in suddenly.
“Yeah, tits,” Annie nodded.
Levi agreed emphatically. “God, yes, tits are great.”
“I’m all for some tits,” I said, assuming it was my turn.
We finished the pizza and I introduced Levi to my room with just enough
trepidation that he noticed. He walked to the bed, sat down, and bounced on it.
He glanced at my nightstand.
“Is that your mom?”
I’d almost forgotten the photograph there. “Yeah,” I said breezily.
“May I…?” Levi was leaning toward it, and I nodded that yes, by all means, he
could pick it up.
A gentle smile crossed his face as he studied the picture. “I thought so.”
“What?”
“You look like her.”
“That’s funny, I always grew up being told I looked like dad.”
“Nah, you look like her.” I sat down next to him and breathed in deeply as
Levi’s fingers traced the outline of my mother’s face. “Your chin, your mouth.
Your eyes look like hers, definitely.” He looked over at me and I turned my
lips together sheepishly.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
He kissed me and placed the photo back in its place. “She’s beautiful and that
runs in the family.”
I liked that he didn’t use the past tense when referring to her.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said, reaching up to stretch his arms out as he did.
We weren’t made of stone. In the pitch dark of my bedroom, I felt Levi kissing
down my back and reached over only to turn mom’s photo around. Levi laughed at
me for that. Then he advised me to muffle myself in the pillow while he turned
me over, stole beneath the covers, licked deep inside my ass and massaged my
prostate until I came again with a shuddering gasp.
“You—“ I turned to look at him; I could barely see him in the dark, but was
able to make out the fact that his hair was hanging in messy half-waves on his
forehead.
“Go clean up.” He cut me off and hooked my bottom lip with his thumb. “Then me.
Then sleep.”
I barely articulated my rebuttal, but he figured it out. My hands on his chest
were a dead giveaway, too. I wanted him to come. He’d given me too much for one
night, and whether or not he meant it that way, I couldn’t just—“I can’t just—“
“Do you work tomorrow?”
Dazed, thrown off, I shook my head.
“Okay, then we’re going to sleep in tomorrow and you’re going to let me take
you to the movies, and then I’ll let you have your fill of doing whatever
you’re obviously dying to do to me in a bed where I canscream.”
He gave me a moment or two for reaction.
“Don’t think you owe me all of this for listening to everything you told me
tonight. About yourself.”
I said it while it was dark, while we were tired, because I didn’t want him to
worry about showing me a reaction in the light. He just waited on another word,
and when I didn’t give it, he poked my nose with a little noise. “Go clean up,
kid.”
I did as I was told. In the chilly darkness we finally wrapped up together in
my quilt, Levi as my big spoon.
“Your whole house smells like you,” he said, and I didn’t ask him to confirm
that it was a good thing. I just took it for what it was.
I sighed shakily. “Sing to me again?”
He whisper-warbled our song again as I fell asleep from ten thousand kinds of
exhaustion, with assurance that I’d be sleeping in – with him – come morning.
  
 
***** Chapter 22 *****
Chapter Notes
     Just porn. Literally just some Levi/Eren hot sexytimes because we all
     need a break from all the heaviness I think. Not just in this fic but
     in SnK itself. Soo much heaviness. Smut now.
     When I changed my URL at Tumblr I understand that links I posted on
     AO3 to the 1994 Aside Fics broke. Fear not! Everything remains
     correct on The_1994_FAQ page!
     Also, do_you_want_a_Trost_Titans_t-shirt? How about a Bent_Ducat
     hoodie? You can potentially get those things now, because I opened a
     1994_Store with a few things I'm designing for the fic. Just in case
     anyone wants something, because I thought "why not?" and also because
     I make a couple of bucks if you buy one and it would be a cool way to
     show your support! More designs coming :3
     That said, enjoy the smut.
I thought about cause and effect while I was in Levi’s shower the next day,
after we got back from the movies. He asked me to take one. He said I’d feel
better if I took a shower, and I sort of disagreed. Then he said he wasn’t
going to fuck me until I did, and that got me moving. Then he added that I
looked like I felt gross, that he’d noticed when I probably thought he wasn’t
looking. It was true, so I asked him which towel I should use and headed for
the bathroom.
When I came out of the bathroom, hair wet, skin clean, feeling undoubtedly
better, I told him about it. “I was thinking. If dad hadn’t left earlier this
year, for so long, then maybe the battery in the station wagon would have been
replaced sooner, and maybe Mikasa wouldn’t have had to drive us both to school,
and the Buick might not have broken down, and we wouldn’t have met Jean and
gone to his party. Maybe Mikasa wouldn’t have spent the night and Armin might
not have gotten the courage to flirt the next morning. And then Armin might not
have gotten a boyfriend, and I wouldn’t have heard about all of that from him,
and never asked you…”
Levi started to rub my back gently, sitting cross-legged nearer to the center
of his bed. He knew I wasn’t finished, even if I let that particular statement
drop off. My voice got softer. “And then if you hadn’t met Erwin, and gotten
arrested after what happened that one night, and if all of that hadn’t
happened, then I might not have ever thought about so many things because I
think it was thinking about you with another man that really pushed me over the
edge of wondering about myself. I think it was the first thing that did it in a
real life way, thinking about you and Erwin, about you and anyone.”
I turned and looked at him over my shoulder, finally. He had a strange look on
his face, not quite expressionless but definitely detached to a certain extent.
“Butterfly wings,” he murmured.
“What?”
He pulled his hand away from my back and scratched the short hair at the back
of his head. “It’s this saying: a butterfly flaps its wings in South America
and causes a hurricane, something like that. It’s about chain reactions, events
caused or influenced by other events. I guess it’s a more cynical way to say
that everything happens for a reason.”
I nodded. “Butterfly wings, yeah.”
“Are you okay?” He put his hand on my shoulder.
“Yeah, I am.”
“Good.” He clapped his palm more resolutely on my shoulder, then. “Because I
need to go wash up, too.”
“No,” I urged him, and when he tried to crawl over me I held onto his
sweatshirt. Levi paused and glanced down. “I don’t want to wait.”
“Well, neither do I, but—“
“I don’t care.”
I was pulling at his arm, then, stronger than I probably meant to. I latched my
other hand onto the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss, let him fall
haphazardly against my lap. He was breathing faster.
“I’m dirty,” he muttered against my face.
“I know,” I tried to suppress a smile but it crept over me anyway. I licked his
lips quickly before dipping back in for another kiss. Mischievously, I added,
“You’re always dirty.”
Levi ignited in a way I didn’t expect, then. He surged against me as he righted
himself in my naked lap and pulled his legs in to straddle it. “Don’t say shit
like that if you can’t back it up, kid.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, reaching up to unhook the collar from his neck. I
tossed it on the floor and kissed his neck on the balmy spot that had been
beneath it. I kind of liked the taste of his sweaty skin, when I wanted him so
badly. It reminded me that it was him.
He panted once and rolled his body as he pulled his shirt off. My hands wrapped
just beneath his ribcage while his arms were over his head. “Talk to me like
that. More.”
My thumbs crept up and I flicked at his nipples clumsily while we kissed. Levi
whined into me so I tightened my grip on him, just to test it. Sure enough, he
made an even more intense sound of approval. “What, like, telling you that
you’re dirty? That was a joke.”
“Eren, you fucking shit, I’m telling you I like it.” He wrapped his arms around
me and I was once again startled by how strong he was, despite his stature.
It didn’t really make sense, still. “Oh… okay.”
With a heavy sigh, Levi tightened his fingers in my hair. After a moment or two
of awkwardness he said, “It’s all right, I don’t actually expect you to know
how to talk dirty to me. You just got started and that’s some next level shit,
so--”
I interrupted him with the dirtiest thing I could think of at that particular
moment. It felt silly, and a rush of insecurity boiled up even as I said it. “I
want you to put your cock inside of me right now.”
He paused. He breathed out hard and moved his hands down my back, baring his
nails against the skin. His hips rolled in their place. I could feel him
getting hard. “Do you, now?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why do you want that?” He whispered against my ear.
I closed my eyes because I knew I was getting embarrassed and was afraid that
looking directly at Levi might throw me off and destroy my forward momentum. “I
want you to fuck me.”
With another happy, but definitely sexy, sound, Levi started to push me back
onto the bed. We shifted a little as he asked again, “Why do you want that?”
“What?” My eyes opened, and he kissed me immediately. I was lying on his
mattress and he was situated over me. A familiar, wonderful position. I lifted
a hand and without hesitation slid it down to his crotch and rolled my palm
there. Levi broke our kiss with a growling breath. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You just wanna get fucked? Just anyone would do, then?”
“What? No!”
He ran his hand over my forehead and up into my hair, twisting it slightly in
his fingers.  I winced but couldn’t help being turned on by his face, by his
half-smile and heavy-lidded expression that radiated pure sex. “I’m coaching
you, moron.” He kissed me as my fingers fumbled trying to break into his pants.
“You wanna hear how to talk dirty? Like if you asked me the same thing?”
I nodded breathlessly under him.
Levi drew up onto his knees and straightened his back, reached into his pants
and pulled out his cock. He licked his palm, gave it two quick strokes, and
said, “I want you right now because I need your cock, because it feels so
fucking good when you’re inside me.”
I couldn’t say a thing, at that. I looked from Levi’s face, to his dick, and
back to his face. Finally I let go of the breath I’d been holding. “God. I
can’t talk like--”
He leaned in close and nuzzled my face, kissed me again. “Then suck my dirty
cock and get me ready for your sweet little ass, okay?”
I whimpered and hesitated only a moment before I pushed at Levi’s hip and
bucked to the side, rolling him over. It had been at least a week since we’d
actually fucked, and I’d been holding so much stress inside that I wasn’t about
to hesitate for anything. I kissed down his chest hungrily and drew back like a
cat to pull his pants off. Disorienting, just a little, knowing that I was in a
place and a position where everything was my domain. He could still stop me, of
course, but I was free to explore to the limits he would let me. Because Levi
wanted me. Because Levi likedme and wanted me to take action.
Taking action felt amazing, especially with his body looking and feeling the
way it did. He hissed and arched his back, crying out with throaty ah’s and
mmm’s while I held his cock up and put my mouth on his balls, kissing them
gently and then sucking them, letting the smell of him overtake me, proving to
him that I didn’t give one hot damn how sweaty or dirty he was. His legs lifted
around me and both of his hands combed through my hair.
Levi growled excitedly when I finally swiped at the tip of his cock with my
tongue and drew it between my lips. “You’re so good,” his voice vibrated so
deeply that I almost couldn’t make out what he’d told me. When it finally made
sense I just spread my fingers around the base of his cock, palm moving on his
balls while I sucked him deeper. “You’re the best.”
And that did it. Itwasn’t something explosive or tangible, of course, but it
was also something I’d never expected. No longer being good enough. No longer
just being Levi’s lover, but being his superlative. I gasped and had to draw
away from a moment, taking the opportunity to drag my teeth gently over the
head of his cock and make him whimper. Maybe he’d said it in a moment of
passion. Maybe it was just as much a matter of course as all that dirty talk he
was trying to coax me into. Levi just didn’t seem that way, was all. He said
things the way he felt them, even when the words weren’t perfect. I kissed his
length again, licked up the underside, was wondering how I could possibly tell
him how much I’d appreciated that without seeming like an overly sentimental
doofus when I felt something gently hit my shoulder and bounce aside.
Levi was already directing me when I blinked and looked around for what it had
been. I saw the half-empty bottle of Astroglide on the sheets next to me.
“Touch yourself.”
I let a generous drizzle of lube fall against my fingers and pool in my hand
before I started to shift, maybe to sit back on my haunches or get on my back,
but Levi tutted at me and I stopped. “No, keep going. Keep sucking my dick, and
finger your ass.”
I gulped, unsure of myself, and nodded with a deep breath. Resituated between
Levi’s wide open legs, I leaned down on one elbow and used my tongue to help
guide his cock haphazardly into my mouth again. I arched my back and bent low,
snaking my hand back to reach my ass.
“Does that feel good?” Levi asked after a minute or two, rubbing my hair almost
too intensely between his fingers while I moaned around him, not concentrating
nearly as much on the movement of my mouth as I was on my fingers as they
plunged in and out as quickly and deeply as I could manage. “Is this how you do
it at home when I’m not there?”
It was impossible to not show a reaction to his voice in that tone. Kind of
sweet and breathy and baiting at the same time. I spread my fingers and
stretched against the firm muscles of my asshole, kept from clenching back on
them when I thought about how good it would feel to have his cock inside me
again. “God!” I gasped, pulling off his cock and letting it rest against my
cheek while I pushed in deep again. “Uh-huh…”
“I’m almost content just to watch you like this, but…”
When I heard him say that, I let out a heady sigh of relief and twisted up from
my position, pulling my sticky fingers out, moving to turn onto my back.
Levi caught me by the arm and chuckled. “Where do you think you’re going, kid?
This is your show.”
“Wait… but…”
Levi shook his head and I wanted to eat the sexy little smile right off his
face. “Ride me,” he said.
Maybe it was supposed to be a well-timed erotic moment that would throw me into
sexual berkerker mode, but maybe Levi forgot how I was.
“Oh, wow. No,” was my immediate reaction.
“What?” He came up onto his elbows a little, genuinely laughing at my
hesitation.
“I am totally going to embarrass myself if I try to do that, this is not going
to be fun for you.”
“What are you talkingabout? Ride my cock, there’s no way to do it wrong.”
“I… once I’m on there I don’t know if I can stay on.” I was legitimately
anxious about it. In theory, it seemed so right. And there was his dick, so
hard and thick and hot, just waiting for me…
Levi sighed, in a way I almost found consoling. He grunted as he sat up, and
put his hands on my waist. He was still smirking. “Eren. You sexy little idiot
with your hot little sexy ass, when you were a kid did you ever get those toys
that came in pieces and snapped together? You know how when you got the cowboy
toys he’d always have a hole between his bow legs and the horse would have a
big peg right in the middle of the saddle?”
My childhood was shoving its fingers in its ears and trying not to make the
connections Levi was implying. Nonetheless, I nodded, because Levi’s fingers
were floating down the line of my stomach and fluttering against my pubic
hair.   
“The cowboy never came out of the saddle,” he said, probably more sensually
that he should have been saying a thing like that, and looked at me heavily.
“Because the cowboy had a shaft up his ass.”
“Wow. Um…” I licked my lips and started to reply, tried to be witty, but Levi
kissed me. He chuckled against me more brightly than he usually did, and rubbed
his hands up and down my sides.
“Just calm down and get on my dick, I promise you’re not going to have any more
worries when you feel how good it is like this.”
He laid back and tucked a pillow under his neck, put on a condom and topped his
cock gingerly with lube like it was a hot fudge sundae. He told me not to feel
embarrassed at all. Levi said I looked hot as fuck as I straddled him at the
waist and glanced back over my shoulder. I took his cock in my hand and bent
awkwardly. “Just point it, oh my god, don’t twist it off,” he said, and I could
hear that he was barely suppressing laughter.
“Don’t laugh at me,” I said, but I was laughing as well. Something about the
lack of pretense in the whole scene made me feel even sexier, giving in to how
funny it all was. “Shut up.”
I held my breath and started to lower myself, steady by the barest power in my
thigh muscles as I felt the head of his cock slipping into me. We stopped
laughing all at once. Levi moaned and I caught my breath sharply; he was so
slick and I was so ready for him that I descended all at once. Also, I had no
control of myself after a certain sexual point. “God!” I cried.
“Yeah,” Levi said with purposefully cruel amusement. “You like that, don’t
you?”
I sort of did. I got used to being so full, so suddenly, far more quickly than
I got used to the feeling of being in charge of everything, though. Once I had
my bearings, I panted a couple of times and swiveled my hips. I figured that I
needed to give him a sign of pleasure at some point, and I should have figured
letting his cock stir inside of me would do the trick. “Mmmnnn…” I whined, and
flattened my palms on his tight stomach. My muscles were already burning a
little, not used to being spread around him and supporting all of my weight at
the same time.
“Okay, look at me.”
I looked at Levi, tossing my hair out of my eyes and nodding while I tried to
breathe evenly.
“So this is step one. See, I’ve got you. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
I was just sitting still. When Levi said that he threw his hips up into me from
below, laughing when I yelped and jerked my head back at the shallow, jarring
sensation. “Yes!”
“Now just roll your hips, okay? Oh, look at that, you got super hard in a
hurry. Damn.” He was distracted for a moment, staring at the way my cock was
jutting up and out, curving and straining erect. “Nice. Anyway, don’t worry
about bouncing around, just grind for now.”
I moved a couple of times and felt his cock sliding inside me, following the
angle of my body when I did. I was panting by the time I noticed that Levi was
responding to my rhythm with little countering movements, thrusting up hard
when my hips bottomed out on each pass.
I stretched my neck and let go of a hard “Ah!”, impressed by how much bigger he
felt when I was the one guiding the motions.
“Yeah,” Levi started and clamped onto my hips, keeping me centered while my
rhythm got faster. “Yeah, you—“
He cut himself off. “No, go on,” I said. “Go on with whatever you were going to
say.” I pushed my hips down harder and ground into him at a more intense,
shallow angle. Levi closed his eyes and hissed, answering me immediately.
“Get down on my cock like a greedy little whore, I was going to say.”
“That’s good,” I panted, letting the hair hang in my eyes again as I leaned
forward a bit and kept moving on him.
“You don’t mind that?”
“What?” I gasped between hard breaths. “Whore?” I leaned back again and
gathered my strength before I drew up on my knees by an inch or two. “Not from
you.”
Levi looked up at me and I was barely able to focus on him, concerned as I was
with staying there. My muscles started to shake a little as they held me up,
even while Levi used the extra space to slam inside of me from below. I cried
out loudly with each thrust, panting between, like he was literally propelling
everything out of me every time.
“You sound like you’re in pain,” he growled. “I can’t explain how goddamn hot
that is.”
“I am hurting a little, but not there,” I told him, and almost chuckled. He
threw his hips up into me, though, and I yelled again.
“Jesus,” Levi breathed. “Jesus, Eren…”
“I’m sorry,” I grimaced, and just as my thighs hit their straining limit, I
fell back onto him with limp legs. “I can’t. I can’t.”
“Can you crouch?” He asked, the focus of his words absolute.
“I…” I shook my head in spite of myself. I wanted to keep that flow going. He’d
been hitting my prostate with a few of those thrusts and I could only imagine
how good it would be if we’d struck a rhythm. “Eh? I don’t know.”
“Get up, get up.” He leaned up slightly and pulled me by the arms. Finally
catching my breath and coming back to my senses. I folded like a ragdoll into
the movements at first, until he laughed at me, I laughed back at him, and he
pulled at my knees.
“This feels so unattractive,” I said when I’d finally maneuvered to crouch over
him. “Like, I feel really awkward right now.”
“Sex isn’t about being attractive.” Panting, he slapped at my jutting knee and
tugged at his cock a couple of times. “Actually, that’s the last thing you
should worry about while we’re having sex, because trust me, people look their
worstwhen they’re fucking. That’s why it’s hot. That’s… I mean, that’s… you
know what, fuck it, now isn’t the time for a life lesson, let’s do this. I want
to fuck your ass so bad, let’s do this.”
I reached back and held myself up on Levi’s thighs, crouching on my ankles like
some obscene crab as he helped guide me onto his cock. Once I was seated,
comfortably though the mechanics were still making my head spin a little, Levi
pressed his palm against my balls and grabbed my dick. I yelped and almost lost
my balance.
“Oh my godthe way you just tightened up was beautiful,” he said, almost
gigglinghe was so pleased with himself. “Let’s fucking do this.”
I growled, and if I weren’t stuffed full of him and desperate to make him come,
I might have been indignant at the stunt. Instead, his prediction was correct –
it was much easier to balance on my ankles, to push myself up and let myself
back down, in the position we’d adopted. Levi guided me with his hands still on
my waist, not letting me jerk too high, or at least trying. I pulled off of him
a couple of times, caught up in the momentum, but by the time I understood the
feeling, the rhythm, how far and how fast and how hard I could move, I was
enjoying one of the best sensations I’d ever felt.
I arched my back just slightly and clamped onto his thighs with my hands.
Suddenly Levi’s cock was jabbing right into me at the perfect angle. I yelled
once, realized it felt even better when I did, and after that I didn’t stop
groaning and panting and crying out like I was in the middle of a balls-to-the-
wall workout.
It was definitely the best sensation I’d ever felt.  
He started to answer me with inarticulate cries of his own, and just when I
thought I was about to lose my composure and turn to jelly on top of him all
over again, Levi sat up with a growling moan and pulled at me.
Before I knew what was happening I was on my back, and he’d thrown one of my
legs over his shoulder. The body architecture of the whole thing didn’t even
make sense to me, it was so sudden, but all that mattered suddenly was Levi
holding my ass fast to his hips as he fucked me with a raw and brutal power
that made me cover my face at one point and scream into my hands. Not that it
hurt, no – it just felt so good, and it felt even better when I put my body
into a state of expressing it. That was the biggest discovery of the night.
“Don’t you cover your mouth, you little shit,” Levi grunted, still holding off
on his orgasm by some miracle as his right hand started to pump my cock in
tight little strokes. “Ah! Fucking… fucking let me hear it if you’re gonna
scream.”
He thumbed the ridge of my cock and pounded into me at the same time. Relieved
of the stress of concentration, I realized I was already coming. I threw out my
hands and grabbed his sheets, pulled hard at them and arched my back as I
started on a low, guttural sound and finished on a loud, primal yell as Levi
fucked me through my orgasm.
“Ah! Fuck!” Levi yelled back to me through clenched teeth. “You’re fucking…
perfect!”
I couldn’t think of much, so I didn’t think about that one until I had time to
lie in my own bed and feel it comfort me. In the moment, I just surged with
confidence and used the only strength I had to grind into Levi as he pulled me
in hard and came, gasping “fuck” as he did.
We sprawled in two different directions on his bed, panting in recovery. After
the initial stunned minute or two of silence, I sounded like a disaster victim
crawling out of the rubble as I turned and made my way to him. I felt like
reiterating something he’d said to me what felt like ages ago, but it might
have been in poor taste so I didn’t.
I can’t feel my legs.
I didn’t have much of a frame of reference, but it was the best sex I’d had in
my life. I was thinking about that, wondering as all the emotions went crazy
inside of me whether Levi thought less of me because I was so inexperienced.
But then, he’d been the one to say I was the best. He called me perfect. He was
lying back with a hand thrown over his forehead, eyes closed and chest rocking
softly with breath. I kissed him on the cheek and collapsed halfway over him.
“Oh my god you’re so hot,” he muttered.
“Thank you.”
“No, I mean literally you’re burning up, I’m about to open a window and see if
it evens out the temperature in here.”
“Rude.”
We shoved each other back and forth until I laughed and Levi let out a long,
grousing noise and sat up. He shook his head and swayed in the position, so
naturally I grabbed him around the waist. “Maybe it’s because I’m still new at
all of this, but that was pretty great,” I said, not wanting to oversell my
enthusiasm.
“Oh, no, that’s not because you’re new at this; that was some ridiculous
fucking,” Levi looked one way and then the other, like he was searching for
something else before he stared down at me. “Well done, grasshopper.”
I laughed loudly. We’d been watching Kung Futogether some nights when the
reruns were on, so I actually got that joke. “I’m getting there.”
“Practice makes perfect,” he joked, and kissed the top of my head quickly.
After five minutes he said he couldn’t wait any longer, and left me on the bed
so he could take a shower. I slipped into a nap while he was gone, lulled by
the sound of the running water in the next room.
I woke up with a start to Levi’s voice. “You’re drooling on my sheets, gross.”
“I came on your sheets, grosser,” I bit back at him groggily, sitting up and
wiping my cheek. Glancing down at my spot, though, I added, “Oh, yeah, I
drooled a lot, that is kind of gross. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Levi pulled me over and nudged my face with his nose. “So I was
going to say, let’s keep talking about costumes.”
“Oh, yeah, we were talking about that.”
Levi was pulling on a pair of jeans. “So what do you think?”
He’d seemed very enthusiastic, on the ride back to his apartment from the
matinee showing of Pulp Fictionhe’d snuck me into,that we’d found out Halloween
costumes. “From the movie? Yeah, that would be pretty cool. And easy. I mean,
you kind of look like her already.”
He turned to me and smiled in a way that was almost giddy, if slightly
reserved. “Thanks,” he said carefully, and stood up to fasten his pants. “Mia
Wallace and Vincent Vega. A doomed couple if there ever was one. Sure Jean
won’t mind me coming to the party? In drag?”
“He actually said I should bring you. He thinks you’re hot.”
Levi laughed and walked to his closet, and I admired his tattoo as he did. He
started to pull on a plain black t-shirt and I asked, “Are you going anywhere
tonight?”
“Besides having a show to do? Nah.” He turned around and started walking back
toward me. “How about you?”
“I have to work tomorrow morning, so I shouldn’t be out too late.”
“Okay. Hey.” He leaned over me and my eyes went wide. With his hands covering
mine at my sides, Levi pushed his nose closed and waited a beat before
continuing. The shift had been out of nowhere. “I wanted to tell you
something.”
My heart started to flip-flop immediately. I knew what I wanted to hear from
him, but logic would never let me believe those words were anywhere near on the
way. “What?” I whispered.
“Every single second, today. While you were riding me, while you were under me,
and screaming and coming and sucking my cock, I want you to know, you looked so
good I could die. Don’t think I meant for a second that you don’t look like a
fucking sex god to me, because you do.”
My lips moved, quivered, but I didn’t know what to say. I breathed in quicker
and after I was silent for several seconds Levi just leaned in and kissed me
again. “Get dressed; I got paid yesterday and I want to go eat somewhere. I’m
thinking it’s buffet time.”
“Can I…” I could barely think, but I could still remember the important things.
“Can I bring something home for Mikasa?”
He turned and smirked at me over his shoulder, pausing oddly for a moment.
“Let’s just bring her along.”
“I don’t want to—“
“I’ll call Hanji, too.” He already had his mind made up, and was on his way
into the hallway, grabbing the doorframe as he turned.
I sat on the bed and closed my eyes tightly, took all of the things that had
just happened out of their packages and laid them out, admired them, thought
about what they meant. I pushed my hands up into my hair and fell back on the
bed, wondering again about cause and effect.
***** Chapter 23 *****
Chapter Notes
     The promised Halloween Party chapter! I've been looking forward to
     writing this for a long time. Lots of stuff going on, lots of
     different stuff to explore, so you get not one, or two, but five
     different POVs in this chapter. Wow. WOW.
     Thanks so much for sticking with the story, guys. Got something
     interesting planned for Levi's birthday. Wait for that. And to all
     new readers: welcome!
     Oh, and also because a couple of people have pointed out the
     disparity in birthdays, please read the_FAQ because hey. It's a cool
     FAQ and you may learn something about the fic yay!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Eren
“Hey,” Ymir announced as she walked back into the room holding a can of Old
Milwaukee. “Our totally not homosexual Vice Principal just showed up as a
member of the Village People or something.”
Christa, slipping in behind her, offered a quick correction. “He’s Indiana
Jones. Like Armin.”
“That’s a totally unimportant point.”
Armin whipped around. “Ymir, what did you think my costume was this whole
time?”
“Oh dear god, why is he here?” I cried out and almost pushed my hands up
through my hair before I remembered I was wearing a wig. I’d just started to
get a pleasant beer buzz going; I did not need things to get more complicated.
“He knows my parents!” Jean barked, obviously just as nettled as I was.
“I sort of want to go see him,” Reiner admitted.
“Of course you do!” Jean shot back.
“Why do you want to go see him?” Bertl asked, and Reiner stuttered his way
through some sort of excuse. Meanwhile, I was distracted by Armin, who breezed
between me and Jean and said on his way to the French doors, “Well I’m going to
go say hi!”
“Really?” Jean gestured after his boyfriend but looked at me. The fact that he
was dressed as Maverick from Top Gun didn’t help him look like less of a dick
about it. I figured that if Jean couldn’t figure out Armin’s sudden attachment
to Erwin Smith, I wasn’t about to enlighten him. I just crossed my arms and
shrugged.
I shot Levi a look, and for about the hundredth time that night I had to remind
myself that it was, indeed, Levi. His resemblance to Uma Thurman was slightly
off-putting, once he had the makeup on. He sighed and lifted his martini to his
lips. He’d mixed it himself. Normally Jean didn’t offer up use of the bar at
his parties, but had made special accommodation for Levi in drag. “Hey, I won’t
lie, I’m curious.”
Part of me -- that being the spiteful and childish part of me -- wanted to show
Levi off in front of Erwin, just to see the discomfort screw up his
unreasonably handsome face.
Of course, we all followed Armin into the enormous downstairs kitchen under the
guise of getting some more ice, or drinks, or something. The adults (well,
adults that weren’t Levi) were talking in the adjacent living room. Jean pulled
Armin back by one shoulder and fixed him with a look I could actually identify
with: jealousy tempered with awkward, sort of possessive love. Then, he leaned
around the corner and shouted, “We don’t need a chaperone! Go home!”
A smattering of laughter from the next room, and I moved back a few steps as
Erwin appeared around the door frame, pointing firmly at Jean. “Hey. I’m on my
way to a party at the Navy Base; trust me, I’m going to need my own chaperone
by the end of the night. I just stopped in because my costume gets me in. Also
your poor parents needed the vote of confidence.”
When I glanced back to make sure Levi wasn’t getting too glassy-eyed over the
way Erwin Smith made Indiana Jones look like a male stripper, I noticed that
Reiner appeared to have slipped into a catatonic state.
Jean threw another barb into the conversation but Erwin beat it back. I wasn’t
really listening to what they were saying. I was too busy watching Levi. He
just glanced over at me, squeezed my hand again, and smirked.
When I returned my attention to the proceedings, Erwin and Armin were staring
at one another. Erwin smiled. Armin didn’t, really. “Nice costume,” he said.
“Yeah, yours too.” Erwin chuckled. “This is awkward.”
Armin did not, I must point out, make Indiana Jones look quite so much like a
male stripper. At least his shirt was buttoned all the way and seemed to fit.
Beyond that, though, they were wearing the same thing.
“Yours is much better than mine, though,” Armin mentioned, looking Erwin up and
down in a way that Jean was beginning to take notice of. “Oh, wow! Where did
you get a whip?”
“I should really be going.” Erwin lifted a finger like he was beckoning for the
check and turned toward the exit. I clapped a hand over my face just because I
knewI had every reason to be mortified, as Levi threw his head back and
cackled.
The cackle made Erwin stop. I braced myself.
Levi just made the most ridiculous face, somewhere between an overwrought “oh,
hello there” and a sarcastic invitation to fight, and snorted another laugh.
Erwin’s eyes swept him only for an instant; then they ricocheted off of me and
went back to Levi’s face. “Pulp Fiction,” he nodded quickly.
“So I see you’re not entirely out of touch,” Levi said, smirking so intensely
that it almost became a sneer. That was probably the point.
“You two look the part.”
“We should, I restyled two good wigs for this.”
I felt the need to break the tension, or perhaps add to it; whatever I was
doing, I felt the need to do it. “What’s your wife’s costume?” I asked, and
noticed Jean lead Armin to the fridge as if directing him away from the
crossfire.
Erwin paused for only a beat before responding. “Pregnant Wonder Woman,
actually.” He pointed at the air, nowhere in particular. “That wasn’t me
putting in the descriptor, by the way, she’s demanding that everyone call her
Pregnant Wonder Woman when they address her.”
Levi just took another sip of his martini and looked at me. I was so glad he
looked at me. It made all the difference.
Apparently she was also waiting for him, and after explaining quickly that it
wasn’t wise to keep a Navy woman who couldn’t drink at a party waiting, Erwin
excused himself.
“Okay, well, if that’s the uncomfortable highlight of the evening, I think
we’ll have done well,” Levi said, leaning closer to wrap his arm around mine.
“That was interesting,” I breathed, nodding. Not since falling for Levi and
admitting my own attraction had I seen him in the same room as – did I dare put
it in such uncomplicated terms? – his ex. It hadn’t gone nearly as badly as it
could have.
“You little shit, calling him out on his wife in a room full of gay boys. Good
job.”
I chuckled and Jean started to ask us what sort of pizza we wanted. Reiner was
telling Bertl, who still hadn’t loosened up since being at the party thirty
minutes before Reiner even arrived, who Erwin Smith was and why that was a big
deal. I had my suspicions about the way they were acting together, but I’d have
to wait until I had Reiner alone to ask.
The party had started well. Mikasa was coming later with Annie in tow, once
they made an appearance with some other friends, and Levi couldn’t keep his
hands off me. I knew he was enjoying the attention, enjoying the casual
atmosphere of the party, the way I introduced him as my boyfriend and called
out Erwin Smith. He told Jean he wanted a pizza with black olives on it. No
other toppings, just cheese and black olives.
“Weirdo,” Jean sneered in response, and Levi led me by one hand back to the
sunroom, ostensibly where I could show him off to more people he hadn’t met.
--
Ymir
“So I thought you were doing costumes from Beauty and the Beast,” Eren said,
lifting an eyebrow at me. I just double checked the curl at the front of my
pompadour and smirked.
“Christa didn’t want to wear a wig.”
I was much more comfortable dressed as Danny Zuko anyway. I was buff, sure, but
I wasn’t exactly Gaston level buff. Next to me, Christa swished her skirt and
crinolines back and forth, enjoying the sound like the little nerd she was.
“You look almost disturbingly like a dude,” Carolina said. I didn’t know her
that well; she was a cheerleader and was one of those people that hung out
around Jean but didn’t really hang out withhim. Playing into the edge of
discomfort I heard, I leaned over and put my arm on her shoulder.
“Oh, yeah? So what are you doing later?”
Carolina laughed and shrugged out from beneath my arm, but that wasn’t the
point. It had all been so I could feel Christa wrap her arms around me and
growl in that disapproving way she did when I paid attention to other girls.
“What’s wrong?” I turned back to her.
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head and glancing away. Sandy was perfect for
her. Pink was her color, after all. I only took my eyes off of her when Levi
spoke up.
“Well, if we can have a drag queen at this party, it only stands to reason that
we should have a drag king,” he said.
“Thankyou.” I nodded, even as Christa took my hand in hers and started to write
something on it with a pen. She doodled on me all the time, so it didn’t even
faze me. Carolina had wandered off, but that didn’t concern me either. I liked
talking to Levi. Somehow I felt more of a connection to him than the boys I
tended to surround myself with. Was it because he dressed like a woman? I don’t
know, maybe. “I think it’s throwing people off that I’m doing this seriously.
I’m really trying to look like a dude, this isn’t a joke.”
“Yeah, same. Everyone thinks I’m a girl.” Levi said, and then shrugged. Eren
just stood by, nodding. His suit was just a little too small, and he was far
too baby-faced to pull off John Travolta the way I did, but at least his wig
was spot-on.
Maybe Levi was onto something with the drag king thing. I’d enjoyed gearing up
for the party way too much. I wanted to dress like this more often. “It’s
because all the straight boys don’t want to face the fact that you look hot,” I
smirked.
“Thank you!” Levi replied brightly.
Finally, I looked down to see what Christa had done to my hand.
Property of Me!, the top of my palm read, with a squiggly arrow pointing up my
wrist.
My heart thumped but of course I wasn’t going to let on. I looked at it, then
looked at her. “Property of the leather jacket?” I asked.
She scoffed and smacked me on the shoulder.
--
Armin
Eren found me outside, where I’d wandered to the edge of the mostly-empty deck
while Jean was playing Sega with some other guys. I was pretty good at Sonic,
but they were playing Joe Montana Football and I couldn’t have been less
interested. Besides, I’d fallen into a weird thinky mood halfway through the
night.
“It’s cold out here, are you okay?”
I turned halfway and shrugged at him. “I’m prepared for the elements.”
With a sigh, Eren walked up next to me and jumped up on the deck railing,
taking a seat there. “So what’s up?”
“I don’t know. Just thinking.”
“Ah?”
“I guess midterms got me thinking. I mean, I did really well, but it’s all the
talk of college that’s coming up now. Not just with me, but—“ I cut myself off.
“Yeah,” Eren replied, picking at a thread on his jacket.
“He’s probably going to Princeton.”
“That’s cool, though, I mean at least it’s not California or something.”
I shot Eren a look, even though I didn’t really mean to. “It’s still far away.
And it just worries me, because I know I’m going to be stuck in Virginia, no
matter how good my grades are.”
“You might be able to get scholarships and stuff to pay for your expenses,
though. Some scholarships are out of state. Like, specific schools and stuff.”
I was surprised that he knew so much about it. Eren’s grades had plateaued
again, since the incident with his dad, but he talked as if he’d done well
enough on his midterms. Maybe he was looking into options for himself. “I mean,
that happens a lot for students as good as you are.”
Sighing, I rolled my shoulders to try and shrug off some of the tension. “I
don’t want to follow him or anything, though. I mean, I do, but that’s just so
risky. I really want to go to Cornell. Either way, Jean wants me to come with
him when he visits Princeton next month, and I’m like I’m not ready for this,
you know?”
“Yeah.” Eren paused. He wasn’t the sort who took problems and made them his
own, but I knew the weight of understanding in his voice. “I want to go to
college, too. But I don’t want to leave, either. I don’t want to leave any of
you.”
My heart actually warmed, to hear him put it that way. But in the same moment
it warmed, I felt bad about the way I’d been whining. “I’m sorry, I’m talking
like Jean is the only thing I’m going to move away from.”
“Nah!” Eren said, not looking at me, just disagreeing loudly enough that I knew
I’d struck a nerve and he was purposefully avoiding making a big deal out of
the topic. “No, it’s cool. I know what you mean. But, just so you know, I’m
gonna go crazy without you. When I’m studying and stuff, when I just want to
hang out and watch stupid TV shows that Levi can’t stand.”
“Yeah,” Armin laughed. “Yeah, that’s true. Same here, who knows when I’ll wanna
play board games and watch bad movies and stuff.”
“Oh! Oh, I wanted to mention that. We totally played Trivial Pursuit at my
house a couple of weeks ago. I wanted to make that a thing, if you want in.”
My eyes must have lit up. Eren knew I loved Trivial Pursuit. We usually played
it alone, and even if Eren said he wasn’t smart I knew he caught on to a lot of
stuff just by playing the game. Then again, sometimes we just played
Scattergories and wrote in-jokes for all of our answers, dying of laughter
before we could even finish a game. I didn’t want to act like two years was
right around the corner. At the same time, I didn’t want to squander what time
I had left with my best friend. “Yeah? Like game night?”
“I was thinking so, yeah. The station closes early on Sunday nights, so, maybe
then?”
“That’s cool. Dang, now I’m excited for game night.”
Eren snickered.  “Me too.”
We stayed quiet for a bit. A strong breeze blew through, and a couple of other
people came out onto the deck. I pulled my jacket tighter. “Brrr. Okay, yeah,
maybe we’d better get back inside.”
Like he realized it was his last chance to bring it up, Eren spoke up
importantly. “Hey, are you worried? Like, about being apart?”
He wasn’t asking for me, I could tell. I rolled my shoulders out again. “What
do you mean?” I asked, and cleared my throat softly.
I knew very well what he meant. I just wanted someone else to put it into words
so I didn’t feel so bad for even considering it. “Like… that you’ll break up.
Or, meeting other people and stuff. Not that I think that’ll happen, but—“
I cut him off before he started to sound too apologetic, like he was casting
aspersions on my relationship when that wasn’t it at all. “No! I mean yeah. No,
it’s not something for you to worry about asking, I get it. It’s just… yeah. Of
course I am. I mean, Marco moved away and they broke up.” I took in a deep
breath and my teeth started to chatter, which they only did when I got all
tense in the cold.
“Okay. Just checking, because it scares me, too.”
“So, um…” I took a deep breath, a cold breath, and took a couple of steps back
from the railing. I put out my arms in an attempt to seem optimistic. “Let’s
make sure they never want to break up with us, okay? I mean, that should be
easy, we’re great guys!”
Eren laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. It got him down off the railing,
though, and confident enough to follow me back inside. Whatever happened, I
told myself, I was still excited for game night. And that sort of twisted my
brain into remembering not to get caught up on things that were so far away.
Even before game night, there was the rest of the party. I tackle-hugged Eren
from behind, just to annoy him, on the way back in. He wondered why I was
laughing, suddenly.
“Just because I’m having fun.”
--
Bertholdt
“Hold on.”
“You’ve said that three times now. What are we waiting for?” Reiner paused.
“Someone else?”
We kept laughing, that was the main problem. That was the problem any time we
got together, though. He said that I made him laugh, but that’s what I thought
about him, too. Maybe we were just both nervous, too nervous to get over
ourselves. “No!”
I looked down at him, not quite smiling because I was tense all over, but
trying to look as excited as I was. “It’s just that this isn’t really the place
we should be…”
“Are you kidding? This is the perfect place. No one ever comes back here.”
I stopped talking because, of course, Reiner would know. He’d been coming over
to Jean’s house for years. Maybe? He hadn’t known Jean very long, really. He
only started hanging out with him recently. How did he know about Jean’s
downstairs guest bedroom and why it was an appropriate place to sneak off to
and make out?
Why did I careso much, was the real question. Reiner was kissing my neck and
that was literally the only thing I should have had on my mind. Finally, I
stopped protesting. “Okay, just don’t… let’s not do too much, okay? I don’t
want to get caught with my pants down in this house.”
“Me neither.” We hadn’t even gonethat far yet, who was I to bring that up? It
had been a figure of speech, right? I was being a tease, wasn’t I? I
desperately wanted to get my pants down, just maybe not in Jean’s house. And
even then, the thought scared me.
“Ugghhh,” I moaned nervously before I even realized I was doing it.
At least Reiner knew what the sound was, by now. “Don’t worry. Don’t worry. I
just want to kiss you a little bit. You look good in a suit.”
“I want to kiss you, too,” I said, stopping to look at him. Reiner met my eyes,
and after just a moment’s pause he looked away and chuckled. I mimicked him,
and then pulled his face back to mine. It was great, kissing him. Holding him.
Just feeling someone next to me, against me, being totally comfortable. Little
by little, I’d learn to calm down and not be so worked up about doing something
wrong or turning him off or moving too fast too soon.
For now, though, in the downstairs guest bedroom of Jean’s house, I just kissed
him and rubbed my fingers in his hair. “Yeah, by the way, you look really good
too.”
“Maybe these costumes were a bad idea, they just make us horny.”
The word piqued my nerves again. I was ready for kissing, for making out, but
not exactly for horny. Maybe I should have been ready for it, though? I had no
idea what to say to that, I had no idea what to do.
“Um,” I started on a tittering laugh but Reiner smothered it with a kiss. I
caught my breath between our lips and left it behind, tried to move past it. We
were still just standing there, between the door and the bed, and I wondered
where we were going, if anywhere. Usually we were sitting down, on my loveseat
upstairs or in the car. It had only been three times, really, that we’d gotten
the chance to make out. Three times I remembered in excruciating detail, but
only three times nonetheless.
Reiner’s hand started moving down my back before I knew what was going on. I
grunted into his mouth as his fingers slid below my jacket, past my waist. Even
though I knew what he was getting at, I still wasn’t quite ready when his palm
(delicately, I want to add) pushed against my trousers to cup my ass.
Instead of breaking away, which was my first instinct, I mirrored him and
stupidly clamped my hand on his ass, too. He laughed against my lips and I was
scared I’d done exactly the wrong thing. But then his hand squeezed me. Again,
I grunted into his mouth, which was pushing rather insistently against mine,
our tongues wound together in what I could only trust being the right way, not
that I’d had any prior experience kissing.
I squeezed him back, and figured it was time to say something. “Wow, your
butt’s really firm.” Then again, everything about him was really firm.
Reiner closed his eyes and laughed uncomfortably and leaned his head against my
shoulder. I didn’t really know what to do so I just kneaded him in my hand, and
that’s when Reiner’s hips pushed up into mine.
How had we actually been keeping a few inches of chaste distance from each
other?, was my first reaction to that. The second reaction was a rush of blood
from my head when I realized something else was definitely firm.
“Oh my god,” I whispered into him.
“I’m sorry,” he replied, like it was a problem.
The only problem was that I had no idea what to do about it in the middle of
Jean Kirschtein’s Halloween party. So, with few other options, I fastened my
other hand on the back of his neck and kept kissing him, barreling forward
where my only carefree instincts told me to just push back into him. This time,
it was Reiner who moaned into mymouth.
That was all I needed to keep going. And it felt good. It felt reallygood, so
good that I was also starting to rise to the occasion. “Whoa, oh my god,”
Reiner gasped between us once, and pulled me in sharply, both hands on my ass.
We stumbled a little, lost our balance with the pitch of our hips, and fell
toward the door. Reiner’s back hit it hard, made it rattle in its frame. In the
terrifying moment of potential discovery we gasped apart and went silent. Our
hips stayed tight, however. My erection slid into Reiner’s insistently, and in
the silence I could hear the fabric of our pants rubbing together. We were
looking at each other, and still moving. Unable to stop.
Who cares who heard? Right now, who cares?
“Oh my god,” Reiner said again, and closed his eyes when I grabbed one of his
legs and pulled it up, anything to try and make the friction even better. I
wondered what he was thinking, but talking was the last thing I wanted to do.
Anything could throw me off, anything could ruin it. I’d never felt it before;
someone else was actually arousedbecause of me. I wondered, suddenly, if he’d
ever gotten hard before while we were making out. In the last week I’d finally
gotten up the nerve to even think about him for a moment while I was
masturbating, so what if he…
“God!” I pushed hard against Reiner’s crotch and flattened my free hand on the
door. He replied with a sharp, throaty moan.
Then, my heart nearly exploded right out of my neck when someone knocked on the
door. Instantly, it was like everything went supernova, and not in a good way
at all. I let go of Reiner and jumped back, put my hands over my mouth and
wondered whether to say anything, but when he hauled himself out of his
position it made enough noise that I knew:we’ve been found.
We glanced at each other, and I noticed him glance at the window momentarily in
a move that would have been hilarious if the circumstances weren’t so
terrifying.
The door flew open regardless, probably becausewe hadn’t said anything (in
retrospect, wouldn’t it have just been better to shout at whoever it was to go
away? Maybe to lock the door? I was at the head of my class but wow, I lacked
survival skills). In stumbled a couple already locked together at the lips, and
I only stopped panicking when I realized who that couple was.
“Occupied!” Reiner blurted out angrily.
Levi, literally wrapped around Eren with his legs and arms alike, looked over
at us so quickly that his wig hit Eren in the face when it swung.
He just grinned. It was when Eren realized who we were that the actual vocal
reactions started.
I didn’t know what else to do so I turned, wondering why my erection wouldn’t
just go away instantly. “I knew it!” Eren practically yelled.
“Shut up, Eren!” Reiner panted. It was really awkward because I knew from
listening to a few conversations here and there that Reiner had liked Eren
before he met me.
Levi, still balanced gracefully in Eren’s arms, said, “I mean, you can stayif
you want,but…”
Reiner didn’t say anything to that, he just grabbed me by the hand and stormed
out of the room. I caught Levi’s eye for a moment when we passed. He smirked at
me so thoroughly I almost felt violated.
--
Levi
I never actually went to parties when I was in high school. My Friday nights
were geared more toward catching a ride into the city, flirting my way into the
right clubs, and snorting a week of pay up my nose before deciding who was
going to take me home. Not always because I wanted to get laid; sometimes it
was just because I wanted a place to sleep, and if I had to give a blowjob or
ride a little dick to get that, sure, whatever.
But this, this was something oddly quaint. Nothing quaint, really, all told,
about Eren fucking me on a bed in his friend’s house, nor the fact that Eren
had been the one with the foresight to come prepared for the possibility of
ravishing me in costume that night. Quaint, though, that I was well beyond my
teenage years and finally doing what was largely considered the standard
teenage thing to do. Clear-headed, feeling things… I was flirting dangerously
with normal.Still getting great sex out of the deal was only a bonus.
Maybe that’s what was making me something of a pathetic, romantic mess, not
throwing myself into a performance, just wrapping my arms around Eren when he
finally collapsed over me and my legs went limp around him. “Good job,” I told
him, and left another of many lipstick marks on his face when I kissed him.
“I’ll consider that an early present.”
“What…” He panted, and pulled back to look at me. I flicked the short ponytail
over his shoulder and chuckled. “What do you mean?”
“Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself, maybe. I still have a week. Oh god, I
didn’t get anything on this duvet, did I?” We’d put down a towel from the
bathroom, just in case, but even with a few drinks in me I was still concerned
about such things.
“No, I don’t think so,” Eren was still trying to catch his breath, and he
finally sat up and looked around. “Nah. But what are you talking about? A week?
Until what?”
I couldn’t really blame him for not knowing. Not exactly. We’d never explicitly
talked about it, but then he’d also never asked.That, I figured, made it a
joint responsibility. We’d both sort of failed, but he knew I was bad at
relationships when he met me. Nevertheless, I put on my stoniest expression and
lifted one drawn-on eyebrow. “November 3rd.”
“November 3rd. Okay.”
“My birthday…?”
The look on his face was worth it. I sat up, despite a slight ache in my abs,
and reached between my legs to clean myself off with the towel. Eren couldn’t
see me smirking at him as he started to apologize and rant about how he had no
idea and he was sorry for being an idiot and should he do anything and what did
I want to do and I’m sorry and I’m sorry and—
“Shhhhut up.” I turned to him and put a finger to his lips. “It’s okay. But
yeah. I’m turning 26 next week. I also work that night and you have school the
next day so let’s not get ahead of ourselves with plans.”
“It’s your birthday, though,” he muttered against my finger, still looking like
a kicked puppy. “We have to do something special.”
“We will,” I assured him, and patted his cheek quickly.
When we finally left the room, the party seemed less densely packed than it had
been before. A few people were talking in the kitchen, and the sunroom was
still full, but the rowdiness seemed to have petered out. I stepped over
someone curled up on the floor in a mermaid costume, wondering if they intended
to be Ariel or Daryl Hannah, since they certainly weren’t wearing a wig to
indicate either. Maybe Jean had let them in on a technicality, but I would have
turned my nose up at that as a movie costume.
“I wonder what your friends got up to,” I snickered. “After we interrupted.”
“Oh,” Eren caught my tone. “You mean Reiner and Bertl. Look, don’t mention
that. I think they’re trying to remain discreet about it.”
“Yeah, the tent the tall guy was pitching sure seemed discreet.” I snorted.
“Shhh!” He slapped my arm and we made our way upstairs to Jean’s TV room, where
we only assumed good times were ongoing.
My spirits lifted immediately when I realized who’d finally made it.
“Heeeeyyy!” I walked past Mikasa and she held up her palm. Despite it being
against my very nature, I high-fived her. Maybe even the high-five was part of
her costume, though. She’d gone all out, even if she’d done so on a budget:
scraggly cheap wig, ripped jeans, and a black baseball cap with the Wayne’s
World logo painted in White-Out.
“Party on, Wayne.” I fell into the sofa next to her, and put my feet up on the
low coffee table, following her example. Eren seemed extremely pleased with her
costume, which had apparently been kept a secret from him for the last several
days.
“You look hot,” she told me.
“Yeah, your brother did a good job of not fucking up my makeup just now.”
It was always satisfying to get Mikasa’s face to scrunch up in slight disgust,
just because it was such a difficult thing to do. I was pleased that she even
got my inference. “Ew.”
I chuckled to myself, surveying the rest of the room (Silence of the Lambs was
on the TV, but only Jean and Armin seemed to be paying attention). Then, I got
poked in the arm.
I knewI’d smelled something pleasantly awful when I walked upstairs, and sure
enough there was Annie, potential lesbian and confirmed pothead, dressed as
Garth and offering me a joint. I regarded her with a wan half-smile for a
moment, and then raised my voice. “Jean?”
“Yeah?” He called back, as if I’d shocked him out of his concentration on the
movie.
“How in the world are your parents okay with this?” I gestured to the joint,
and Mikasa reached over me to claim it. Eren started to chide her one seat
over. It was adorable, how uptight he was about such things.
Jean shrugged. “As long as I don’t buy it, as long as I don’t sell it, they’re
totally fine if I smoke it. They know it’s gonna happen anyway.”
“They know, do they?” I turned that one over in my head and wondered how
different my perception of cops might have been if half of them, maybe even one
of them, treated other kids with the same benefit of the doubt that Jean’s dad
treated him. “Hm, okay.”
“You hitting this?” Mikasa asked me.
“Nah,” I waved my hand in the air and glanced over at Eren, who seemed
extremely relieved by my refusal. “I’m good.”  
And really, I was. 
Chapter End Notes
     So, to review, here are the costumes:
     Eren: Vincent Vega (Pulp Fiction)
     Levi: Mia Wallace (Pulp Fiction)
     Jean: Maverick (Top Gun)
     Armin: Indiana Jones (Raiders of the Lost Ark)
     Erwin: Indiana Jones (Temple of Doom)
     Ymir: Danny Zuko (Grease)
     Christa: Sandy Olsen (Grease)
     Mikasa: Wayne (Wayne's World)
     Annie: Garth (Wayne's World)
     Reiner: Jake (The Blues Brothers)
     Bertl: Elwood (The Blues Brothers)
***** Chapter 24 *****
Chapter Notes
     Thanks for waiting longer than usual for this update, you guys are
     awesome, *chu*
     Not much else to say here. I procrastinated like crazy on this
     chapter, even going so far as to stop and make a fucking lasagna in
     lieu of writing about it happening the story. But finally, I finished
     it! Enjoy!
I got in a fight on the Monday after Jean’s party, which was actually
Halloween. It was nothing notable, just me reverting to my usual ways and
starting trouble for no good reason. The guy was named Jake, and he made some
comment about me in English – I don’t even remember what it was now, but it was
enough for me to see him in the parking lot after school, run up, grab his
backpack and use the leverage to fling him to the ground before jumping on him
and giving him a punch to the shoulder. He didn’t fight back, though, he just
shielded his face and yelled at me to get the fuck off, that he was sorry and I
was a psycho, so I let Connie haul me up. I heard him apologize to the guy
before he asked what the fuck was wrong with me. I didn’t answer him.
Mikasa, who had been in a meeting with a school counselor regarding early
graduation, looked me over when I got home. After noting quickly that she was
glad it had at least happened after school, she asked me who I was still acting
out for.
“What?”
She half-shrugged. “I always figured that you fought so dad would have to clean
up after your shit.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I just get really pissed off a lot. I have a lot of be
pissed off about.”
Mikasa sighed, legs up on the couch, knees swaying back and forth. “You know
violence isn’t cool.”
“You’re violent as hell!”
“I’m trying to change. Dickwad.”
Later that night, while we kept the lights off on the porch and ignored trick-
or-treaters knocking on the door, she was cleaning. Well, more than that, it
seemed like she was packing; boxing up dad’s stuff and mom’s old valuables,
stacking the boxes in closets. She asked me if there was anything in particular
I wanted to keep out where we could see it.
“Why? Why are you doing this?” The house already looked weirdly empty, and
she’d only gone through the living room.
“I want this to be our house,” she mumbled, wrapping one of dad’s ugly bookends
in newspaper. “I want it to looklike our house.”
Dad paid the mortgage. We got the next month’s statement in the mail and there
was no past due balance. Mikasa said it made sense; even if he was an asshole,
if he was trying to get straight a default on a mortgage would fuck him up
worse. “He didn’t pay the utility bills, though. So tomorrow I’m going to just
take some cash to the power company and see if they’ll take it.”
“Whoever he’s with in Allentown,” she said, sounding bitter at the thought,
“I’ll bet she’s covering his ass. I’ll bet they’re living together.”
I just breathed in deeply and ignored it as well as I could.
She didn’t say anything else about it, moving on to something else. “Do you
still want this? Wasn’t this yours?”
From the captain’s chest she was unpacking, she pulled out a small wooden box
with a slot carved in the top, like a coin bank. I sat up and leaned closer to
her, ignoring the television completely when I realized what it was. “Oh my
god, I forgot all about that thing! Is the key still with it?”
The key was still with it. I told her that yes, of course, I wanted it.
I didn’t get to see Levi until Wednesday, the day before his birthday. I had
two hours between school and work, so I came over to his house for half of
that. He laid into me for fighting with significantly more displeasure than
Mikasa. He didn’t get angry,exactly, he was just… well…
“I’m disappointed.”
“I know,” I muttered, and stretched out as much as I could in the bean bag
chair, taking up space as a defense mechanism. “I’m sorry.”
“Why did you even do that?”
“It’s no big deal! it was just some guy who pissed me off.”
Levi shook his head, like I wasn’t worth the time, and I scoffed when he turned
on me and walked into the kitchen. “What, you have nothing else to say to me?”
He came back into the room eventually, and gave me the glass of Dr. Pepper he’d
offered me when I first arrived. He kept a bottle it in his fridge for me even
though he didn’t drink it. “What if,” he started, and sat down in the other
chair. “What if I just did a line of coke one night and then I was like no big
deal, it was just to blow off some steam?”
My mouth dropped open. “That’s not the same at all!”
“Well, it’s something you want me to not do anymore, and it’s something I know
I’m better without! So that’s where I am, I think you’re better without trying
to be a little badass.”
He paused. I still hadn’t reacted. I was trying to think of something
intelligent to say, something insightful to prove how obtuse he was being (at
the time, the word obtusewouldn’t have even occurred to me).  When Levi spoke
again, he was looking at the far wall, jaw set like he was trying to remain as
cool as possible. “I don’t like people who throw violence around.”
It hurt, at first. It stabbed me right in the heart because I took it to mean
that he didn’t like me. Given a moment to catch my breath, though, I just
nodded and shrugged. “Well, the first time we met, I thought that’s how
youwere.”
He stopped showing any expression whatsoever, which was odd. Since I’d known
him, he always had that over-emotional face that was stony only because it was
trying to express so much at once.
“There is always someone stronger than you, okay? And if you look for fights,
you’ll find worse. Remember that.”
Somehow I knew where the conversation was going, but just as quickly as I knew
it, I felt Levi back off. He took a deep, preparatory breath. The tension
swelled and my nerves clenched, but then the whole thing dissipated sharply
like a sneeze fizzling out. “Never mind,” he said.
“I get it,” I said softly, determined not to let it be one of our flash
arguments. I needed to go to work, and I didn’t want the memory of a fight,
however small, clouding my thoughts. Besides, tomorrow was his birthday. That
was going to be special even if I needed to work ten times harder for it. “But
what if someone gives me a hard time; do I just back off and let them?”
Levi buried his face in his hands. “Eren, I know I sound like a fucking mom
right now and I know how much you hate that, but just don’t put yourself in a
position to get hurt worse. Don’t startshit. It’s stupid and you’re not proving
anything.”
“I’m sorry,” I finally said, just wanting to do anything, say anything and mean
it, to make Levi look like he was feeling something again. When I reached out
and touched his leg to punctuate my apology, he rolled his eyes and snapped
back to a sharp expression, smirking over at me.
“Yeah, you sure are.” He reached up and tousled my hair. We had forty minutes
left before I needed to be at work. We made the most of that time.
I had a test in Chemistry the next day. I was still determined to make it into
Mr. Zacharius’ class as a senior, and even though I knew the possibility was a
slim one, I told Armin I’d pay him back somehow if I could come to his house
early for a quick review before school.
“Wow.” He clapped my stack of index carded notes on his dining room table to
straighten them out, once he’d sufficiently quizzed me. “It’s like you’re a
different person. Well, a different student at least.”
I felt secure enough in the material that I actually smiled and felt my pride
swell at the remark. “Thanks. I mean, let’s just hope I don’t totally choke
when it comes time to take the actual test, like I always do, but…”
“You said you’ve been studying at work?”
“Yeah!” I reached up to stretch my arms, yawning as I did. “You know, it’s
weird. Because it’s so slow at work on the evenings and Mr. Shadis just stays
in the back office most of the time, my homework is literally all I focus on.
I’m always distracted at home or the library or whatever, but there it works.”
Armin half-smiled and nodded, because he’d never be able to totally understand
where I was coming from. School, and by extension, studying, had always been
second nature for him. “That’s cool. I’m glad. You’re gonna be fine.” Then, he
surprised me by repeating one of the questions on valence electrons that I’d
gotten wrong twice already. This time, I got it right.
He was oddly silent when he got into the car, but by the time I was heading
toward the end of his street, I understood why. I understood why because he
asked, “So um, hey…”
“Yeah?”
“Did you have sex at Jean’s on Friday night?”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or choke on my own breath, so I just made a sort
of dying animal noise and looked out the window pointedly when we stopped at
the intersection.
“Okay!” Armin yelled, like it was a great relief. “Because the last people Jean
saw go into the hallway downstairs were Bertl and Reiner, but then he found a
condom wrapper when he went to clean up the next morning. And, like—“
I was eager to jump on the subject of gossip, just because it was empowering to
know something Armin didn’t. “Oh no, they were in there!” He looked stunned,
which was expected, but I had to keep my eyes on the road as I kept driving. I
gestured as enthusiastically as I could while I did, though. “We actually
interrupted them.”
Armin was silent for a beat so I glanced over at him. He bit his bottom lip and
grinned. “Were they…?”
“I don’t know, they were just making out, I guess, but Reiner sounded pretty
ticked at me.” I cleared my throat and added, “Uh, but Levi also says Bertl had
a giant boner in his pants, so—“
“Ahhhh!” Armin cried excitedly. A big part of it, I knew, was his relief that
Reiner didn’t seem to be hung up on me. Another part of it (a part that I
shared) was second-hand excitement that Reiner was getting any at all, and from
someone who seemed his direct opposite in most things. “That’s just – this is
gonna sound so weird, but – cute!”
“You know what, I’m glad you were the first to say it, because I think they’re
cute too. Cute together, you know. Ew, cute. I hate that word, though.”
He seemed to have a moment of clarity as we crossed the obvious divide between
Shinganshina and Trost, marked by the used car dealership and the Denny’s. “Oh
my god, how weird is it that we get to talk about other gay couples?”
“Yeah, you mean gay couples who aren’t, like, us? In our couples, I mean?”
“I know what you mean.” Armin waved his hand and laughed quickly. “But yeah, I
never would have figured there were so many gay people at Trost.”
I mumbled, “Bertl doesn’t go to—“
“You know what I mean, smart-butt.”
“Armin, you can swear, it’s okay.”
“I know, I’m just trying not to get into a bad habit! I’m trying not to swear
as much.”
“Smart-butt,” I snickered cruelly, and he punched me in the arm.
Armin sighed loudly and shoved his hands back into the front pockets of his
jacket, but he was smiling. “But, you know, there are gay people everywhere.
Like, lots of them.”
“Is it really strange that I just never considered that before? And that’s why
I never thought I was?”
“What, like I filled the quota?” Armin laughed again, but it was more nervous.
“As a matter of fact, that’s probably exactly what I thought. Subconsciously,
at least.”
“Subconsciously,” he repeated. “Big word for seven in the morning.”
I fixed him with a look. “Quota, though.”
“Quota isn’t a big word!” He whined in his own defense.
The test was harder than I figured. I breezed through the knowledge portion but
choked when it came to the actual chemical equations. Regardless, I tried to
retain a little bit of optimism as I realized that a C would be good enough to
keep my grades where they needed to be to move into Chemistry III in my next
semester. I’d be fine.
Jean was taking Armin home, so I ducked everyone as I left my History class
when the bell rang, and walked to my car with only one thing on my mind. I
swung by the grocery outlet and unfolded the list of ingredients I’d copied
from one of mom’s old cookbooks. The only thing that almost threw me off was
ricotta cheese, because what the hell was ricotta cheese? I’d never heard of
it, although I’d been eating it every time mom used to make lasagna,
apparently.
I had the house to myself when I made it home with two bags full of ingredients
and far more ambition than actual talent for cooking. The recipe said it would
take about an hour to make.
Three hours later, I was starting to panic. Mikasa got home and stopped dead in
her tracks when she entered the kitchen. “You’re cooking?” She asked, obviously
as skeptical as she was horrified by the state of the counters.
“Yes. It’s Levi’s birthday.”
She picked up the empty noodle package from the counter and waved it in the
air, failing to make the connection. “It’s Levi’s birthday so you’re making a
lasagna. Okay.”
I sighed, watching the oven timer like my willpower would make 45 minutes at
375 degrees go faster. “Yes! I’m going to take him a homemade dinner at work,
piss off.”
She smiled and then laughed, finally opening the fridge for a can of pop. “What
is this, Clerks?”
“What?” I sighed again, anxious about even making it in time for Levi’s dinner
break.
“In Clerks.She brings him lasagna at work. It’s that whole thing. You’ve seen
Clerks, right?”
“Yes.” I paused, and didn’t answer her. I just kept looking at the oven,
tapping my foot. Mikasa didn’t move, and the weight of her looking at me
finally made me snap, “Okay, maybe I was subconsciously thinking of that part
from the movie. Go away!”
“Subconsciously,” she started, mock-impressed. “Big—“
“Big word, I know. Go away.”
“Love you,” she teased me and reached out to grab my shoulder. I swatted her
hand away and sneered. “You’re such a good boyfriend.”
“Shut up.”
The lasagna finally finished cooking at 6:30, and I just stuck a towel
underneath the pan so it wouldn’t burn my hands off in the bag while I
transported it to the donut shop. I told Levi I would visit him at work on his
birthday, but I didn’t tell him anything about the surprise I had planned. I
hoped he hadn’t gotten sick of waiting. I also hoped the lasagna tasted even
slightly good, since it was the first thing more complicated than spaghetti and
meatballs I’d ever made.
His usual nighttime coworker, Erd, was at the window. Erd knew me, and knew I
was dating Levi, but it didn’t mean he treated me like less of a kid (and
didn’t take pains to call Levi a cradle robber, every chance he had).  “Hey,
buddy!” He greeted me. He was a surfer, Levi told me, and not a very good one,
but he really made up for it by looking the part and smoking enough weed to
sedate most of the East coast.
“Is Levi here?” I asked, like I would be there for anything else.
“Yeah, he’s in the back taking his break. If you wanna come over to the back
door I’ll tell him to meet you.”
I sighed and nodded, heading for the back, feeling like crap because I’d missed
my chance. Oh, well. It was the thought that counted, wasn’t it?
Levi opened the door, which was set up by a step that was just tall enough to
give him a height advantage on me. He was looking down on me when he said,
“Hey,” which I had to admit was sort of hot.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thanks for visiting.” He smiled coolly. “I just went on break, two minutes
ago.”
“I brought you something,” I handed him the bag. “Careful, it literally just
came out of the oven. I had to cook it after school and that took forever
because I had no idea what I was doing.”
“This smells good. Damn.” He lifted the bag and sniffed it. “Did you make a
calzone or something?”
“What’s a calzone? No, it’s lasagna.”
It was always so gratifying to catch Levi in a moment of happy surprise. His
eyes went wide and his face softened considerably, the hardened mask of feeling
everything at once slipping to show him feeling only one thing. “Oh, wow. You
made a— oh, wow.”
“You said Italian was your favorite.”
He was holding the bag close, cradling it in one arm and pulling the aluminum
foil back enough to peek. “Oh, fuck, this is so gorgeous.”
“Heh,”I chuckled and grabbed the back of my neck. “Turned on by lasagna?”
“Turned on by the fact that you cooked a fucking lasagna and brought it to me
on my birthday, yeah.”
I tried not to beam, but I couldn’t help it. Levi’s birthday was all about him,
and all I wanted was for him to be happy, of course, so why did I feel so
overwhelmingly good about myself? “It was all I could afford. Well, there’s
this, too, but I didn’t buy it.” I hauled around my backpack and unzipped the
top, pulling out the hastily wrapped package.
“Awww,” Levi made a sweeter face than he normally did, and looked around
quickly. “Okay, it’s cold outside, you need to come in. Hey!” He cried toward
the front of the house.
“What?” Erd yelled back.
“Eren’s coming into the break room with me, okay? I’m still taking an hour
because it’s my fucking birthday!”
“Okay, fine!”
Levi grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the donut shop.
I walked after him down a short, narrow hall lined with wire racks full of
boxes, past a big industrial freezer. We turned before entering the actual
kitchen and went into a tiny room barely big enough to hold a little table with
two chairs. Later I’d find out that it was supposed to be a walk-in maintenance
closet. He closed the door behind us. “I always close the door when I’m on
break, because I hate anyone talking to me when I’m on break.”
“I’m talking to you, and you’re on break.”
“That’s different, you made me lasagna. You made me lasagna and I like to kiss
your face.” He put the bag down on the break room table and then pulled me in
to do just that.
“Happy birthday,” I mumbled between kisses.
“You’re a little brat, making me all sentimental on my birthday,” he muttered,
but I could feel him smiling against my mouth.
We stopped kissing (somehow) and I urged him to eat, because I wanted to know
whether my efforts to make something edible had paid off.
“What about my little present, there?” Levi gestured at the wrapped package,
which I’d managed to set on the table before he ravished me with kisses.
I shrugged and sighed, looking away. “It’s a stupid thing, okay? I don’t even
know if I should—“
Levi bolted by me at that, lunging for the gift and grabbing it before I could
stop him. He laughed triumphantly and held it over my head, which wouldn’t have
worked except that he distracted me by kissing my face again when I tried to
grab for it. “I get to open my present no matter how stupid it is.”
“All right,” I groaned and turned around, hiding my face for a minute as I
heard him tearing off the paper. “Okay, but it’s gonna make no sense unless I
tell you what it is.”
A few seconds later he was holding in his hands a plain wooden box with a slot
carved in the top, like a coin bank. “What is it?”
“Well, besides a—“
“A box. I get that part. Don’t be a box,” he giggled.
“Shut up, oh my god.” It had been a running joke that never stopped being funny
during our Halloween stint as Vince and Mia. “No, it’s… it was my mom’s. Well,
okay, no. Scratch that. It was my mom’s and she gave it to me.”
He got more solemn at that and waited patiently for me to go on, a humble look
spreading over his face as I did.
“It’s called a Worry Box.”
“Worry Box?” He echoed thoughtfully, reining in the natural urge to be
sarcastic.
“Yeah. When I was a kid she gave it to me and told me to write down things I
was scared about or worried about, like murderers hiding in the house – shut
up, don’t laugh, that was actually my biggest fear when I was, like, seven.”
“I’m sorry, go on.”
“Like that, or like, that Santa would think I was bad by Christmas, or bridges
– I was terrified of bridges – or when mom and dad fought I’d write down that
it scared me, just all these little kid worries, you know? But the thing is
that I never figured out there was a latch on the bottom that opened it up if
you unlocked it, so mom used to come in every few weeks and ask if I filled up
the Worry Box, and she would go and shake it, and nothing would be inside.
She’d say, oh, it looks like your guardian angel took all the worries away so
they can help them not happen. And that really helped. I only found out later
that it was mom who was emptying the box and taking all of those things out.”
I started to remember things and didn’t know whether I was ready to go into
them. But I just breathed and went on. “After she died we found this shoebox
where she’d kept all of them, over the years. She put the key in the box, too.
This key.” I reached under the collar of my sweater and pulled out the brass
key I’d put on an old beaded chain. I held it up and sniffed, trying to beat
back the sizzling feeling of too much emotion in my blood. I smiled sadly at
Levi.
“Eren, why did you give me this?” He asked softly after a few seconds.
I hoped I wouldn’t sound too cheesy. “Because I want to take all your worries
away.”
I watched his eyes close slowly, saw him take a deep breath, and then saw his
throat wobble as he swallowed before replying, “You little shit, you’re not
allowed to be so good to me.”
I’d been worried he’d hate it, so I was high on a swirl of relief as I said,
“Every weekend, I’ll come over and I’ll empty it for you.”
“I’ll fill it up in a day.” He chuckled drily, keeping his eyes closed, still
holding onto the box with both hands. I was trying to think of how to respond
and then I realized he’d been sniffling.
“That’s okay,” I assured him, and then paused, reaching out as Levi curled in
self-consciously, laughing on the nervous vibration running through the little
room. “Are you crying?” I asked.
“No!” He said strongly, straightening up again, wiping a wrist over his nose.
“I’m just… I’m just hungry.”
A nervous laugh escaped from me, as well. I threw my arm out toward the table.
“Well, there’s lasagna!”
Ten minutes later, he offered me some of it, proclaiming it to be “Fucking
delicious.”  After tasting it, was just proud enough to admit that he was
right.
The small talk as he ate (quickly) was obviously small talk. I kept glancing at
the clock, knowing our time was limited.
“What are you watching the clock for? Watch me,” Levi said. He was also
starting to look more heavily at me, like he was planning something and the
lasagna was acting as an unexpected aphrodisiac.
“Just… you only have an hour for lunch.”
“I still have twenty minutes left, and Erd doesn’t care if I take more time.
It’s not like we get busy at night, anyway.” He waved in the air and pushed the
foil back down over the pan hastily. “Come here.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me from my chair, even though I was obviously
skeptical about his intentions. “What? What are you—“
“Come with me,” he said flatly, walking backwards across the small room. I was
hesitant; visibly so. “Don’t worry, just come with me.”
He was so unexpectedly giddy that I couldn’t resist obeying, even as he pushed
open the door and pulled me inside. It turned out to be the bathroom. “What—“ I
started again, but Levi slid easily between me and the wall, shutting the door
and locking it before I could finish my question. “Whoa. Whoa, whoa, what—“
“Dessert,” Levi answered simply, and started to sink to a crouch. On instinct,
more than anything else, I started to push against his head.
“What? No! Not in here! This is a bathroom!”
“Okay, um…” He stopped, sighed, and held up his hands, pointing twofingers to
accentuate what he said next. “You pee from this.” He twirled the fingers and
pointed at my crotch.
“That’s not the point! It’s dirty in here.”
He scoffed and made the most offended face I’d ever seen from him. “Excuse me,
but I clean this bathroom floor to ceiling every night, and if I do say so
myself, it’s cleaner than the one in my apartment because I have access to
industrial clea—you know what, no. The point is, it’s my birthday and I want
this.” He grabbed me by the thighs and pulled me off center until I had to
throw my hands against the wall. 
“Could you get fired for this?” I breathed hard as Levi unzipped my jeans and
started to pull my belt open.
“Erd smokes out on his breaks, I’m the last one he’ll rat on.” He paused and
smirked up at me. “Uh-huh. Acting like this didn’t turn you on or anything,
your dick doesn’t lie.”
“That’s because you— ah!“  He wasn’t wasting any time.
Levi had always given incredible blowjobs. From the first night I fell asleep
at his house and woke up to find him kissing down my body, I’d been amazed at
the things he could do with what seemed to be such a small, unremarkable mouth.
The way he sucked me effortlessly all the way to the twitching tightness at the
back of his throat, and then swallowed on me so that I actually felthis throat
around me – Jesus, how did he learn that? I didn’t really want to think about
it. I wanted to believe he learned it all for me, just for me, and all of
life’s possible crossroads led to me standing wobbly-legged in the bathroom of
a donut shop, hands on the wall while Levi crouched beneath me and looked up at
me, pulling back so I could see my cock filling out his cheek.
“It’s your birthday,” I panted between words, catching his attention when he
sucked to the tip of my cock and swiped his tongue around it. “I should be
doing this for you.”
Levi laughed in his throat and looked up at me, taking the opportunity to
caress my cock and hold it against his cheek while he did. That alone was more
erotic than I ever would have thought. “Eren. I’m a cock man. Dream scenario
is, I get to suck your dick every single time I’m horny.” He paused before
putting his mouth on me again. “Which is, you know…”
“All the time,” we said together, and Levi just laughed and swallowed my cock
again. I bit the inside of my bottom lip to keep from yelling at the feeling.
Just before I came, grabbing his hair hard and pulling to warn him, Levi moved
back. He caught his breath and tossed his hair beautifully, an almost
mischievous look on his face as he kept jerking me with his hand. I stuttered
to try and form words. He wouldn’t let me get distracted by that. Levi just
opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out just a little, pointing my cock
at it. I couldn’t help surging into orgasm at that.
Seconds passed and I breathed hard. Levi just swallowed what had landed in his
mouth and grabbed my arm for leverage as he rose back to his feet. A smile was
on his face. That wasn’t all that was on his face. “Thanks,” he said, and
breezed past me, moving to the sink.
I expected him to wash his face off immediately, but he just stood there in his
tight, ribbed black sweatshirt with the cuffs and collar cut out, toe of one
polished black leather boot resting on the tile of the bathroom floor as he
jutted one hip out and looked at himself in the mirror. Finally, he turned back
to me, smile gone from his face and replaced with his usual droll expression.
“Now I need a cigarette,” he said, and then proceeded to wash his face off and
his mouth out. Shakily, I gathered my bearings and followed him back into the
break room. “Gonna have to do my eyeliner again, too.”
“You look really good, though.”
His face was a red and splotchy from having been washed, and his eyeliner was
obviously smudged from the water, but I still leaned in to kiss his lips. Levi
grabbed me gently by the collar and I could practically feel him roll his eyes.
“Thanks. Shut up. Thanks for letting me blow you in the bathroom. And
everything else, thanks for everything.”
“Thanks for… um…” I didn’t know what to say so I just said, “Thanks for having
a birthday.”
He stepped close and curled his hands into the longer edges of the hair framing
my face, and pulled up to look me in the eyes. “That’s a surprisingly deep
statement.”
“I promise I just didn’t know what else to say.”
“Can you let yourself have a moment of brilliance for once?”
I paused. “Okay.”
He kissed me one more time before he had to go back to work.
***** Chapter 25 *****
Chapter Notes
     Woooowwww oh wow okay. Yeah it's been a really long time but I took a
     day off today and told myself I was going to just push through all
     the doubts I had about this chapter and just hecking do it, and I did
     it. Very happy about that.
     There's some smut, there's some thoughtful relationship stuff (maybe
     idek if it's thoughtful you guys tell me), and there's some big
     Mikasa and Eren sibling stuff to deal with. I neither condone nor
     support things discussed in this chapter, in the interest of, you
     know, not taking sides. Because I've lived on both sides of the
     argument, tbh.
     Editing Proclamation this month has left me in a weird headspace
     regarding 1994. It's strange to look at this story and be like "yooo
     people are still enjoying it, this is something creative that's free,
     that me and this whole sub-fandom of readers is supporting and
     owning, and wow that's awesome" No, I'm forcing myself into the
     stress of editing this novel that's going out with a dollar amount
     attached, that is going out to represent me, that's been through such
     an odyssey of weird stuff. And that makes me nervous because it was
     written three years ago and I can clearly see how I've grown and how
     my own thoughts about things have grown. So I've been stuck in a
     creative paralysis over 1994 some days. I stopped enjoying it for a
     week or so because I just seize up with worry over the criticisms I
     might be leveled with. That's just writing, that's just writing and
     having problems with anxiety. But you know what? I think it's still
     worth it.
     Please enjoy this, and please also enjoy SnK itself, and any other
     fics you enjoy, because enjoyment is free. <3
“Hey, Jaeger!”
I didn’t mind that Mr. Shadis called me that. I preferred it to my first name,
actually, because when adults called me that it reminded me too much of my dad.
Nonetheless, I jumped at his barking voice and must have seemed completely
shaken when I answered. “Yes, sir?”
“You were talking about getting a Honda, right?”
I sighed and shut the door of the soda cooler I’d been stocking. The
“convenience store” area of the station wasn’t even big enough for five people
to walk around in comfortably, but we kept the coolers well stocked regardless.
Most of the property was devoted to the garage, where Mr. Shadis lent space to
a couple of mechanics who did odd jobs for local clients and their own vanity
restorations. Currently there was a 1961 Nova II receiving some much-needed
bondo work before rolling to a suitable location for a paint job.
“Yeah, I was gonna. But I don’t know, now. I’m thinking I might keep driving
the station wagon as long as I can. Money’s tight.” I’d been dipping into my
savings to help pay for gas and groceries. The power company, it turns out, was
more than happy to accept Mikasa’s cash as long as she brought the bills with
her. The water and gas people were the same. Mikasa swore she was all right to
cover the cost, but she hadn’t gotten a job yet, so I did what I could.
“Station wagon needs a timing belt, though.”
“Well, we can put one on next weekend if you’re free,” he mumbled quickly, then
went on. “The point is. I know a guy who’s in the market to get rid of his
grandma’s car. She’s getting up there and they don’t want her driving anymore.
She owns the car, so they’re just looking for some profit on the thing. Good
guy.”
“What sort of Honda?” I sneered slightly at the idea of inheriting some old
lady’s naugahyde-upholstered Accord. I’d had enough of driving a land yacht – I
wanted something with some speed, even if it would take longer to get it.
Mr. Shadis lifted an eyebrow sternly, no doubt at the audacity I had to look a
gift horse in the mouth. “A Civic. 4th Generation, yeah, so it’s probably a bit
older than what you were planning on, but it’ll still run like a dog on fire.”
I thought for a moment, taking a deep breath. “What year?”
“91.”
“How many miles are on it?”
Mr. Shadis shook with a silent laugh. “Less than 2000. This lady went from
church to the beauty parlor and back home, no lie.”
“Oh, wow,” I muttered under my breath.
“If you want to go take a look at it, I can give you his number. Just be quick
about it. He’s going to put it in the paper if no one bites.”
Before the end of my shift, he passed me a name and a number scribbled on a
scrap of receipt paper.  My attention when I left the station, though, had to
be focused on a different car altogether. Levi’s Camaro had been running no
less than horribly, and one look under the hood confirmed that it was more
advanced than I’d be able to diagnose without taking it to work.
“Don’t drive it until we can get it looked at, though. It’s running too hot.”
“I didn’t intend to. When I told you I hated that car,” he let me into his
apartment first, “I really meant it. It’s a piece of shit.”
I hummed at the assessment. I knew he didn’t like to be lectured about
preventative maintenance, much less about his complete lack of performing any.
I neither agreed nor disagreed with what he said. “I can give you rides, if you
want. When I can. Until I can get it fixed.”
“When am I going to have the money to fix it?” He asked, huffing into momentary
anxiety at the thought. “There’s a bus stop close by here, it shouldn’t be too
hard for me to get by on my own.”
My tone rose a little as I circled his dining table and grabbed the glass I’d
been drinking from the day before, intending to re-use it. “I told you I’ll
drive you if you need. And don’t worry about the car. I owe you, so I can front
the cost for the work and stuff. I have a payback system at the station,
anyway. I already used it to get new spark plugs in the Buick.”
Levi took a very deep breath and tossed his head to get the hair out of his
eyes. He’d been wearing his bangs longer, but would probably be cutting them
within a day or two, if I knew his habits. “What do you owe mefor?”
“That whole thing where Jean’s helping me get a new car because we slept
together. That thing.”
He couldn’t explicitly argue with the logic, and shrugged. “I’m just afraid
it’s going to be the transmission or something horrible that’ll cost you
hundreds of dollars. That’s all. Besides, I thought you gave up on the idea of
the new car until things settled down with the living situation.”
I told him about the Civic Mr. Shadis had mentioned, and he urged me to check
it out.
“If that happens, and your car does end up being a money sink, I can’t exactly
sell the station wagon, but I can sure let you use it.” I’d have to start
paying for my own insurance next month, anyway, when the coverage ran out on
what dad had paid. If Levi could help me with the cost of that, it would be
worth it.
“Anything wrong with the station wagon?”
“Nothing, really. It’s just butt ugly.”
“Yeah, it really is.”
“I’ll find out what’s wrong with the Camaro, though. We’ll figure it out.”
Levi mumbled something as I scratched his back on the way to the refrigerator,
and I had to ask him to repeat it. He didn’t look at me when he did. “I said,
I’m an adult and I should be the one taking care of youright now.”
I shrugged, knowing I had to tread carefully around that topic. “No one’s
taking care of anyone. We’re just helping each other because life is crappy,
that’s all.”
If we were to that point, I’d have said I loved him.
It was getting harder to reconcile with myself that we weren’t to that point.
It had taken Armin and Jean a month. Levi and I had been together since
September, and it was halfway through November without even an earnest
discussion about it. The earnest discussion, I could probably talk him into.
But the time never seemed right, and besides, I didn’t want to hear whatever he
had to say. Somehow, I knew that even if his reasons were completely valid and
understandable, I’d be crushed when I heard his voice tell me why he wasn’t
ready to say I love you.
I said it under my breath sometimes, or mouthed it, or thought it comfortingly
at the end of conversations or after good night kisses. I knew I loved him, and
then when I thought too much about the fact that he hadn’t said it to me yet, I
worried that it was my naivete showing itself once again. Maybe Jean and Armin
and even I were stupid kids rushing into that sort of thing. I tried not to
think that anything could happen tomorrow, and how terrible I’d feel if we’d
never said it, and just focused on Levi holding me from behind, thanking me as
humbly as he could manage, and kissing the back of my neck. “Why do you still
pay for haircuts when I could do it for you?” He asked, rubbing his nose on my
newly trimmed hairline.
“Because I’ve gone to the same barber since I was four years old.”
“Ah, small towns. Gotta love ‘em.” 
I had school the next morning, so I didn’t stay too late, but I did stay late
enough to wind down from the day in the best way I knew. It had taken a couple
of weeks, but I was on my way to getting over feeling embarrassed or self-
conscious while he fucked me. We left the lights on in his room that night and
I straddled his lap, turned my back to him so he could knead and slap my ass
while I moved on top of him. “This is a great view,” he assured me.
“Thanks,” I replied breathlessly, a bite of conceit in my voice as I ground
myself down with a swiveling motion. Levi sucked in a sharp moan and raked his
nails over my skin.
My center of gravity pitched forward less than a minute later, as I felt him
shifting to sit up behind me and beneath me. He put a steadying hand around my
waist. “Keep going,” he said, though I whimpered and found it a little
difficult to do anything. I was impressed at his strength as Levi gathered me
to sit in his lap, rested his head between my shoulders and gasped hard breaths
against my back. It was a strange angle that made me feel like he was
stretching me wider than usual, so I just rolled my hips in tiny bursts of
friction on top of him.
“And this way I can also do this,” he started in a dark, mischievous tone, and
before I could prepare myself he reached around to squeeze my cock. Pumping me
tightly, he opened his mouth on my shoulder, teeth sinking gently into my skin
until his orgasm hit and they bit in with more force than I’d expected.
“Jesus,” I groaned, every rhythm thrown off as Levi came and the separate pain
shot through my shoulder.
“Was that too much?” He panted, voice thick and breath still hot on the spot
he’d bitten.
I shook my head, trying to just concentrate on the adrenaline it had caused and
the way he was getting me so close. “Almost,” I nudged the word around a whine,
though I was talking about my orgasm and not his question.
His tongue pressed against my shoulder and I felt a sharp flash as I realized
he’d broken the skin just slightly. He was licking me carefully, dragging the
tip of his tongue slow and hard around the bite mark until he muttered, “Eren,”
and I threw myself over the edge, knowing it wouldn’t get better.
Several minutes later, I contorted in front of the bathroom mirror and looked
at my Sex With Levi merit badge. “It’s not that bad,” I said, though Levi was
right next to me to demand I put Neosporin on it.
“It’ll bruise tomorrow,” he said matter-of-factly, like he knew exactly what he
was talking about. I decided, for once, not to let it slide.
“Oh, yeah? I guess you know from experience.”
“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled, and I gently slapped his hand away when he went for it
with a cotton-swab again. “Hey, don’t do that. This is important. That I
actually give a damn about your stupid love bites getting infected or something
is important.”
“It’s not gonna get infected, I don’t even worry this much when a cat scratches
me. This is nothing. You’re taking all the sexiness away from it.”
He rolled his eyes and slipped the band-aid back into the box. “Fine, whatever.
I’m not taking you to the hospital if the worst happens.”
“I’m sorry, in what car?”
He paused for a moment and then shoved me. I shoved back, and we play-fought
until I had both of his wrists in my hands, pinning him into the bathroom wall.
Levi surrendered with a self-satisfied smile, and stretched beneath me into a
kiss.
I brought one of his wrists down and turned it over, looked at the smooth, pale
skin where he usually wore long sleeves or leather cuffs. I glanced at him.
“What?” He said.
I lifted the wrist to my mouth and opened my lips there, keeping my eyes on
Levi’s, watching for a reaction when I bared my teeth. I didn’t see much by way
of approval in his expression, but I didn’t see rejection either.
“Well?” He smirked after I hesitated just a second too long. “Do it.”
On the fleshiest bit of his wrist I could get between my teeth, just next to
the tracks of nerves and veins, I bit down as hard as I could bring myself to,
took a deep breath and clamped until I felt something yield under the tip of
one tooth. It took so much more force than I’d figured. Levi gasped in
reaction, and I immediately pulled away to see what I’d done.
Luckily for how much I hated dentists, I’d always had a nice, straight smile.
The marks I left on his skin formed a neat and tidy football shape, and you
could see clearly which tooth had done the most damage. I looked at it, almost
enraptured by the weird sight, until Levi mumbled, “See? You could be a
vampire,” and sighed contentedly.
“Vampires bite necks,” I said.
“Not necessarily. Who’s read the vampire books, here? Shut up.” He was smiling.
I looked back at him and pursed my lips, caught the metallic tang from the drop
of blood, and cleaned the spot off with my tongue like he’d cleaned me. Then,
of course, he said he needed to put a band-aid on the mark because he wouldn’t
be surprised if I had rabies or something, which made me kick him lightly in
the shin before I told him I was going to get dressed.   
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He said after we kissed goodnight, as I
reached back to open the door.
I froze, terrified that I’d misread his meaning. Of course I was
sayingsomething else in my head, that sentimental addendum I couldn’t wait to
say out loud. but that couldn’t possibly be what he meant. “Yeah, I’ll get
Armin to drive me by after school and I’ll pick up the Camaro tomorrow. Do you
need a ride to work?”
“Not that. Told you, I’ll take the bus. No, I mean something else you’re
forgetting to take with you.”
It was almost past midnight, almost officially late, and my brain wasn’t
working as well as I would’ve liked. I scrunched up my face in confusion until
Levi turned around and put a hand over his eyes. “Look, I’m just going to turn
around, and you’re going to take something with you when you leave. Something
that’s maybe sitting on the dresser in my bedroom.”
I sighed because I still had no idea what he meant, but figuring that it might
be a pleasant surprise, I walked to his bedroom anyway.
Sitting on top of the dresser was the Worry Box I’d given him, and all at once
I remembered. “Oh,” I muttered, and fumbled for the key around my neck. I
turned the box upside down, pulled back the false bottom to reveal the keyhole,
and unlocked the trapdoor.
Levi hadn’t been kidding. The box was full of folded and twisted scraps of
paper, some tied into small knots and some simply wadded like they’d been
crammed into the box by force. I had planned to just stash everything in my
pockets, but upon seeing how much there was I looked around for anything to
help me.
I ran across the hallway and into the bathroom, grabbed an empty plastic bag
from under the counter where I knew Levi kept them (I’d had to do intensive
cleaning before; of course I knew where they were), and emptied the Worry Box
into it.
“For your information, I gave up keeping my eyes closed. Now I’m just waiting
for you,” Levi called from the living room.
“I’m sorry! I wasn’t prepared.”
I just barely heard him chuckle as I reassembled the box and put it upright on
his dresser again. “Dork.”
I knotted the top of the bag and held it tightly in my hand as I said goodnight
to him all over again. Thankfully, the delay had earned me a redo kiss, so at
least there was that.
Exhausted by the time I got home, I decided to open the bag the next day, when
I had time to really process everything. I fell into bed without even letting
Mikasa know I was home, and was out like a light in minutes.
The clock on my desk, which I could reach and certainly see from my bed, read
2:15a.m. in its bright red digital numbers the next time I opened my eyes. The
noise that had woken me up made me think that maybe Mikasa had left the
television on again; it was a bad habit mostly because she tended to keep the
volume pretty loud. I kept listening, in that sleepy adrenaline moment of being
torn from unconsciousness, and then I realized it was someone knocking on the
front door.
I pulled the blankets up to my chin at first, trying to ignore it, telling
myself that murderers didn’t knock and neither would dad if he’d wandered back
into town. My silent will lasted about three minutes, and then I started to
worry that it might be Armin. It might Levi. It might even be Mikasa, who
sometimes left her key at home when she walked to the store and locked herself
out (why she would have done so at two in the morning wasn’t something my brain
was considering).
I swung my legs around to steady myself before standing, and then I heard a
voice shouting from outside. “Mikasa!” It was a guy’s voice. I didn’t recognize
it, even though it sounded like someone around our age. “Come on! Mikasa!”
That did it. An instinct I was sometimes unaware of kicked in and I decided
that if someone was bold enough to knock on our door after midnight looking for
my stepsister, they deserved the pleasure of dealing with me first.
I flung the door open without bothering to put on pants over my boxer shorts. I
was wearing a sweatshirt, yeah, but the cold air hit my bare legs and made me
even angrier as I confronted whoever it was. “What?!”
Jake, the shithead I’d punched in the arm after school a couple of weeks ago,
reared back when he realized who I was. I mirrored the move, and dug my heels
into a defensive stance. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I snarled.
“Same to you, faggot.”
“Hey!” I said it, bristling and clenching fists, before I realized that someone
else had said it right along with me. It was Mikasa, her familiar grip digging
into my shoulder to hold me back and pull me aside as she elbowed in between
us.
“Jake, are you mental? It’s two a.m.!”
“I tried paging you like ten times.”
I looked back and forth between them. “Pager?” I was ignored.
“When I don’t call you back it means I’m fucking cleaned out. Don’t come to my
house. This is not okay.” She sounded firm, angry, but strangely diplomatic.
“I thought we were cool.” There was a smarmy tone to his voice that set me off
even more than he usually would as he said that, spreading his arms with his
hands still in the pockets of his jacket.
Mikasa sighed. “I don’t need this…” She muttered, and then Jake noticed me
glaring at him.
“What are you looking at?”
Mikasa interrupted before I could talk back. The diplomacy was notably gone.
“Go home, Jake!”
“Come on.” Even though I had no idea what was going on, I knew his tone was
starting to edge more into aggressive territory. I kept my fists clenched. “You
have to have something.”
“You’re cut off, numb nuts. Go home.”
“Cut off?”
“Yeah. Numb nuts.
“Don’t be a bitch!”
“Don’t show up at my house!”
“You know your boyfriend’s a homo, right?” He started. Three things happened in
the next moment. First, Jake, obviously feeling invincible just because he was
bigger than both of us, tried to push his way inside. Mikasa, being Mikasa,
pushed me away, and then she revealed what I hadn’t even noticed she’d been
holding in her other hand.
“What?” As I stumbled away from the weight of her shove, she shouted Jake down,
her hands curled around a baseball bat. I didn’t recognize it, and wondered
where she’d gotten it. My eyes got wider when I saw all the nails beaten into
the head of it, making it into a gnarled, terrifying mace. “Say one more thing
about my brother, shithead, say one more thing. Don’t you even lookat him.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He was backing up, away from the threshold, at least.
“Chill out. I just—“
“Get the fuck off our property.”
He did, but not without a few more choice words, some of which actually made me
see red. I tried to launch myself at him one more time, but Mikasa held me back
with a shake of her head. “He’s just a pathetic asshole,” she said, closing the
door over his protests.
I stood aside, stuck in a half-shrug until Mikasa faced me.
“What?”
“What was that all about?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she muttered. “I just—“
“You have a pager? What is he cut off from? Are you dating that jerk?”
“No! No,” she said with a sneer, looking particularly insulted by the
insinuation. “It’s just a thing. This thing I’m doing. Sort of work, I guess.”
I wasn’t a total idiot, and nor was I completely naïve. I’m sure I seemed like
it sometimes, and maybe Mikasa had been counting on that. I nodded my head; two
and two were easy enough to put together. “You’re selling drugs.”
She tossed the bat on the couch and turned around, waving her arms in the arm
like she wanted to avoid to topic. “Ehhh--!”
“You are!”
“Just pot! I’m just selling pot to the kids at school, okay? There aren’t any
dealers who’ll sell to Trost right now and I know some people, and—“
“Just? Just? It’s illegal!”
“I know!”
“Why couldn’t you just get a regular job?”
“Oh my god, Eren.” She sat down and dragged her hands over her face.
“You could go to jail. I could lose you.”
“Eren, I’m not going to go to jail, okay? You go to jail if you get caught, and
I’m not a dumbass. I know the precautions to take.” She paused and noticed that
I looked worried, not angry. Her face softened. “You’re not going to lose me.
Don’t you ever say that. I would never… Eren…” She whined until I asked again.
“I mean, do you not want to work a normal job, or—?”
“How much do you make an hour?” She interrupted me.
“4.50. More than minimum wage.”
“Wow, barely.Yeah. Sure. I’ll go find myself a shitty job, and probably get
paid less for it than you would because I’m a girl. Then I’ll be stuck there
all the time, won’t be able to talk to my friends or see you, or study – by the
way, I study a lot, like even when I’m not at home I’m studying a lot – and
I’ll still be stressed out all the time but that way I’ll have time at a lousy
job to think about it while people treat me like I’m trash because they’re
older or richer than me. Nah, I’m not going to do that. I don’t make a ton of
money doing this, no, but I make more than I would folding shirts at Gadzook’s
four hours a night. And with this, I make my own time. And believe it or not, I
work for good people!”
I felt powerless to argue. Whatever she said, it was going to make sense,
because I could hear how emotional it was making her. At least she was telling
me. At least she was being honest. Still…
“How long were you going to keep it from me, what you were doing?”
“Until I got up the courage. New Year’s was D-Day if I hadn’t by then. I’m not
gonna be a jerk-off like dad and hide that.” She reached forward to touch a
spot where she’d cut her legs shaving.
We were silent for a minute or two. I sighed. Mikasa sighed, too. “Come here,
at least. Sit down. I promise you, I’ve got this under control.”
I tried to distract myself from worrying however I could. I walked over and sat
next to her, and Mikasa leaned her head on my shoulder. It was the other
shoulder; not the one Levi had marked. “Jake didn’t seem the type,” I said.
“You’d be shocked,” she replied, chuckling.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s some of the people you’d expect, yeah, but for the most part the big
ticket stoners have stoner parents. No, the people I sell to would turn your
world upside down. Now, I won’t say names, because I know you’re a gossipy
little dildo—“
“Hey!”
“—but I will say I’ve sold pot to at least five of the senior class Top Ten.
Well, the midterm Top Ten.” She whined thoughtfully before going on, like it
amused her to no end. “One will probably be the Valedictorian.”
“What?”
“Yeah! Oh, yeah. There’s so much stress in being a good student, being in all
those clubs, keeping up appearances. They have to unwind, just like anyone.”
I nodded in understanding. “I mean. It’s still wrong.”
“That’s a matter of perspective. From where I stand, it’s totally cool, but on
the other hand I totally respect it if you never have your mind altered by any
substance stronger than Robutussin, Eren.”
I waited for her to go on. She didn’t. “Thanks. Just… be careful.”
“I will. I think I’ve gotten used to the idea of taking care of ourselves.” She
nodded, and patted the baseball bat like it was a symbol of doing so.
“Was it Annie? Who got you into it?”
“Ding ding ding, oh gee how did you ever figure that out? Yeah. Believe it or
not she’s near the head of her class at St. Maria’s, her dad gives her all this
shit to be perfect all the time. So that’s how she started. She had to calm
down somehow. She introduced me to some people that sell, and I actually asked
how to get into it. I did it, okay? It was my decision, before you go off
blaming people. The opportunity presented itself at the perfect time.” Her hand
stilled on the bat.
“Did she give you that bat?”
Mikasa actually gave a bright, sharp laugh. “Nope. I found it in dad’s old shit
in the garage while I was cleaning up and put all the nails in it myself. I
like it. I mean, I need to have something to defend the house. I sure as hell
don’t have a boyfriend to kick someone’s ass for me – not that I’d need one –
or a brother who can do anything but go off on weird berserker rages.”
“What the hell does berserker mean?”
She chuckled. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You’ve got a girlfriend who could kick some ass, though.”
Mikasa’s expression softened considerably and her lips twitched on an obviously
forced line of calm. “Nah.”
“What? But you and Annie are—“
“She likes someone else. She told me. We’re just… we’re best friends. It’s
complicated and it sort of brings me down. Listen, I don’t need to worry about
anyone but you right now, okay?” She put her arm around my shoulders and
squeezed me with a playful growl. I winced slightly. Levi was right. I could
feel a bruise coming on.
After we talked a bit longer, Mikasa said she was going to sleep on the sofa
with the bat close by, if I wanted to go back to bed. I asked her not to keep
the television volume too loud as I yawned my way into the hall. She said she
made no promises.
I wasn’t going to sleep, I realized as 3:42a.m. greeted me from the clock on my
desk. Not yet, at least. So I sat cross-legged on my bed, felt the overwhelming
quiet of unreasonably early morning surround me, and pulled over the crinkly
bag I’d tied up before I left Levi’s.
Undoing my own knot was impossible, so I jabbed two thumbs into the plastic and
tore it open, letting the scraps of paper fall out like candy from a piñata.
Some landed in my lap and others bounced away on the bed. I sighed and resolved
to read them, to think about them, to transfer them to a shoebox I’d already
earmarked for the purpose, and to stop if I felt overwhelmed.
My heart started to beat faster as I realized the things I was about to read. I
lifted one of the neatly folded paper scraps and unfolded it.
I can’t afford health insurance. If anything happens I’m boned.
I nodded at that one, understanding it only because Levi had explained to me
how important it was. I dropped it into the shoebox and went on to the next.
My car will break down and I will have no way to get to work because I have no
money saved up.
A deep breath filled my lungs before I realized I’d taken it. I appreciated our
earlier conversation even more.
This isn’t a worry, really, but I got so excited to make an omelette and then I
realized I was out of eggs, but if I buy a whole thing of eggs I know they’ll
go bad, because I never eat a whole thing of eggs. Do I waste food, or just buy
an omelette at Waffle House?
That one made me laugh.
I have a small penis.
That made me laugh, too, until I realized that he was being serious. He was
worried about that. I’d had no idea. I leaned my chin into my hand and looked
at his handwriting, realized how honest those words were. I’d have to find my
own way, without being too obvious about it, to let him know how wrong he was,
in my eyes at least.
My eyelids were starting to droop. I tried to gather some of the scraps back
into the bag. There weren’t as many as I’d thought at first glance, but I was
still only about halfway through them. My fingers fluttered haphazardly over a
few different ones, but then I caught a word out of the corner of my eye,
written on the edge of a folded piece: love.
Nervously, I grabbed for it, and unfolded it. I sucked in a quick breath to
realize how much was written there, words small and shoved in to fill the space
on the back of a pizza coupon.
I don’t know if I’m not ready to love yet or if I never have been, or if I’m
just incapable of feeling it, or if I keep waiting for something to tell me
“this is real, there’s no more waiting on a sign, this is the feeling, this is
that feeling you’ve been waiting for, it doesn’t get more obvious.” I really
wish I could hear that, even if I know I probably won’t believe it when I hear
it. The part about being incapable of feeling it, that scares me the most. What
if this isn’t it? I don’t want to be a liar. So I’m scared to say I love you
out loud, even if I’m thinking it. I’m scared to think it, because by putting I
love you on it, that’s a beginning, right? And beginnings always end. You’d
think I’d be so happy at 25 to feel love for the first time, but maybe I’m
still not sure if that’s what this is. I’ll joke about it, but when it comes
down to it I hate risks. I hate chances. Love is an expectation and what if I’m
not good enough for what’s expected?
Without being told, I knew I wasn’t supposed to mention it. I was supposed to
act like I’d never read it, to react as I might, but not to discuss it or bring
it up. I pushed the shoebox aside and leaned back in bed, read it again, got
up, turned the light off, got my flashlight out, read it again, took it
sentence by sentence and read those sentences last to first because it worked
just as well that way. Every time, I was hit by different feelings, but one
feeling surpassed all of them, and that feeling came indescribably along with
knowing I’d made Levi feel things he’d never felt before. My heart pounded and
I knew what he meant. Expectations. Responsibility. I didn’t really care.
The television was loud in the living room, but Mikasa had left it on the
Weather Channel to fall asleep. That was relaxing enough to let me think, as I
drifted off with Levi’s note still in my hand, maybe none of us were kids
anymore, but maybe none of us were adults yet, either, and that was okay
because none of that was our fault, and all we could do was just let things
happen, let feelings happen, and not be worried about them so much all the
time.
I wished I could tell Levi that, but in the last hazy moments before sleep I
knew it wasn’t about telling him anything. I’d just have to show him what it
was like.
 
***** Chapter 26 *****
Chapter Notes
     I'm looking at my A/N box here and thinking "wow what do I want to
     say that hasn't already been said?"
     This is the final chapter of 1994, and it feels pretty good.
     Hell yeah. Hell yeah, hell yeah. Fuckin' right, fuckin' right, all
     right.
     There we go, that pretty much sums it up.
     I tried to return to the original feeling of the story -- just
     simplicity and hopefully some humor. Enjoy it, as I've enjoyed
     writing it. <3
Levi
I’d started to worry about wrinkles. It was only because Nana had been in the
same dressing room watching me put on eyeliner and launched into a fit about
how I pulled at the corners of my eyes for better access to my lids. “Don’t
fucking do that. Do you see what happens to a rubber band over time? Pull at
your skin enough and you’ll get loose and wrinkly. I don’t care what else you
do to yourself, honey, but I can’t abide you doing that to that pretty face of
yours.”
Nana and I were sharing a dressing room again, because the club was hosting a
headliner from out of town. She’d taken over Nana’s dressing room only because
I wouldn’t let anyone near mine unless I trusted them or wanted to suck their
dick. I trusted Nana.
I kept pushing against the tighter skin on my temples, lifting what was next to
my eyes and on the rise of my cheeks, letting it fall back into place and
scowling at the difference. “You look fine. Stop pulling at your face,” Nana
said as she laughed at me.
“I’m dating a sixteen year old.”
“And what does that have to do with it?”
“Just…” I sighed and looked critically at the mirror. I would have tossed my
hair, but I already had it pulled back. “I want to always be the pretty one.”
Nana paused with a lip pencil halfway to a mouth that was smirking too hard for
her to keep working on. “Well, that’s an honest way to put it.”
“I’m gonna get old and that’s some hard shit to take, you know?”
Nana didn’t like me talking about my age. I was still a baby. “Yeah, bitch, I
do know.”
“Don’t get all defensive, you still look like you’re 18.”
After a good-natured mumble that I’d better recognize that fact, Nana said,
“Well, look at it this way. You already stay out of the sun – fucking vampire –
and that’s pretty much the entire secret to looking young.”
“I should start drinking blood.”
“Please don’t start drinking blood. You’re a freak.”
I smirked and held my wig in hand, fingering a few tangles out. “How’s it
going, by the way? With babycakes?”  That’s what she called Eren.
I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic. I was finding it difficult to allow
myself enthusiasm, actually. Careful not to seem neither optimistic nor sad, I
shrugged one shoulder. “It’s good.”
“Yeah? You’ve just been really quiet on it, lately.”
“Eh, we’re both busy, and I’ve had other shit to worry about. I don’t want to
be that guy who talks about his boyfriend all the time. Anyway—“
I allowed her to cut me off because she knew I wasn’t going anywhere with the
statement. “How long have you two been dating, now?”
I counted on my fingers quickly, because months tended to run together. “Four
months? A bit longer than that? I don’t know, around four months.”
“Awww.”
“Yeah I guess it’s okay.”
Nana capped her lipstick pointedly and sighed. “You can act happyaround me, you
know. I won’t tell anyone your dark secret. I won’t tell a soul that Levi
cracked a smile.”
“I smile. I smile a lot.”
That lie was ignored. “Do you love him?”
I paused. I looked down into my bag full of makeup and suddenly couldn’t tell
the difference between my powder and my nail polish. It took me a few seconds.
Nana let the moments pass with exceptional stillness. “Yeah,” I finally said,
quietly, like it wasn’t important.
“Your tone of voice suggests that you haven’t told him.”
“You don’t just fall in love with someone when you’re their first everything,
it’s like inviting the worst.”
“What’s the worst?”
“Didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition.”
 “I’m not in the mood for Monty Python.” Her hands were on her hips, and that
was a bad sign. Nana had a highly developed parental instinct that wouldn’t let
me get out of the conversation about my emotional wellbeing without adequately
defending myself. “What’s the worst? That he doesn’t love you back?”
“Oh, no. He loves me.” Saying it was exciting. Knowingit was exciting. I still
tried to act like it was nothing, like it was burden to carry because it made
everything complicated.
“What’s the worst?”
I chewed on the inside of my lip and didn’t look at her.
She went on. “That you’ll break up? That your heart might get broken?”
“Yeah!” I practically overlapped her, snapping because I didn’t want her to
make me feel soft, vulnerable, at the mercy of a stupid emotion.
“Well, bad news, sugar, that’s every single relationship for the rest of your
life.”
“I know that! It’s just—“
Despite the parental tendency, Nana wasn’t the sort to nag, so she cut me off
as tenderly as possible while swiping a brush over her cheeks in a well-
practiced ritual. “You’re the one being unfair to him, to not tell him.
Besides, you’re also being cynical.”
I laughed bitterly; just a yelping, momentary sound. Nana turned to fix me with
a glare at that. “What?” She asked.
“Nothing, just… it’s ironic, I guess. He called me cynical, once, and I
actually contradicted him. Told him I was a romantic.”
“Well, you do like contradicting people.”
My silence was an implicit agreement. Apparently that was the cue to carry on
with our makeup and no further discussion on the matter. I looked at myself in
the mirror. I was sufficiently prepared to attempt my eyeliner without pulling
at my skin too much. “Can I borrow your Clinique liner?”
“Bitch, I am not sharing a dressing room with you so you can mooch off my good
makeup, you’ll use your Maybelline shit and you’ll be fine.”
It’s hard to argue with advice when someone like Nana is giving it. I asked her
for a ride home, though, and she gave me that. Being at the club meant free
drinks and being driven meant I could appreciate them more, so I was two sheets
to the wind by the time I got home.
Hanji’s birthday present for me was a rather expensive vacuum cleaner, because
she knew I was still struggling with the second-hand one I’d grabbed at a yard
sale months ago. To the uninitiated it might seem like an impersonal gift from
my best friend in the world, but Hanji knew me exactlywell enough to know it
was the perfect thing. And what are gifts between loved ones, really? Half the
time they’re just a test to see how well you know what the other person wants.
Hanji had me pegged since high school. She was the first and last person,
outside of my family, that I said I love youto.
I thought about that a little as I vacuumed my entire apartment for the third
time that week. It was a week into December, I was 26 years old, and it had
been ten years since then. My brain ran loose, less on a train of thought and
more on a tether as it bounced all around in my head, thinking of Hanji and
thinking of high school and thinking of parents and the passage of time and
Eren’s place in all of it.
It’s weird, when you get older, how your timeline starts to feel more and more
crowded. Maybe that’s why I didn’t feel, for so long, that Eren could fit the
way he was supposed to.  
 “Ugh,” I said under the influence of too much thought and maybe too much
Clorox All-Purpose Cleaner once I made it to the bathroom. I sat back, knees
folded beneath me, staring at the same spot on the grout on the bathtub that I
tried to clean every single week, knowing full well that it would never, ever
come out.
If I redid just that one section of the grout work, it would look uneven. The
color of white would be off. If I just put new grout over it, it would be too
thick. The color would still be off. I’d have to knock out every tile and start
over from scratch, just to fix that one stupid spot that I kept trying to
clean.
My fingers, in their rubber gloves, tightened slowly over my knees. I knew it.
I knew in my mind that it was just another symptom, it was just another thing
caused by my potentially faulty thought process, but I still started breathing
harder, started to get a little overwhelmed; looking at the spot, knowing it
would still be there or else I’d have to mount an impossible project to fix it.
Funny how in matters of myself and other people, hearts and minds, I leapt
right to the big picture, the question of is it even worth it?, the ultimate
fatalist resignation of nothing really mattering. But when it was a little spot
in my bathroom, I obsessed and extrapolated and tried to think of every
possible solution, and in the absence of a solution I somehow managed to start
at the beginning again.
“Ugh,” I repeated, closing my eyes and pulling my gloves off. I don’t know
whether I thought I was being defiant or rebellious or poignant or what, but I
left everything right there on the floor and marched myself to bed. I rolled my
eyes and scolded myself for that in the morning, but I can also say that I
consciously stopped myself from trying to scrub out that spot again before I
put all my cleaning shit back in the proper place.
Eren came over after his shift, asked how my show went, and I told him about
the headliner and how she was a diva with an attitude problem who needed to
fire her agent if she hated playing small towns so much. I kissed him in the
kitchen, let him warm his hands up by sliding them into the back pockets of my
jeans, and finally asked how his day was.
“You mean the last three days?” He smirked, nose still close to mine. He chewed
a lot of gum at the gas station so his breath was usually mint or cinnamon or
something that actually achieved the impossible in making me want to kiss him
even more. I held myself back, though, enough to let him keep speaking.
“Yeah.”
“Well, first of all, about the car…” We moved into the living room and I turned
the volume down on the TV. Eren proceeded to give me a detailed and
impressively technical rundown of what had been done to my car by the small
cadre of amateur mechanics at the gas station, and I was too proud of his
enthusiasm to interrupt and tell him that I had no idea what he was talking
about. “Anyway, we ordered the gasket from Luke’s friend for thatdiscount, so
as soon as it’s here we’ll pretty much be done, and I’m just paying the biggest
part back by working as a shop assistant now.”
“That’s good, that’s really good. Thanks.”
“Well, I mean, I love working in the shop so it’s an easy way to learn without
having to worry about fucking up while someone’s paying me to do it, you know?
Word’s getting out so there’s a lot of stuff to do. Someone’s bringing in a ’57
Chevy to have us put in the engine. It’s a restoration. So that’ll be really
cool.”
I nodded. “What about the Civic?”
“It’s great.” He answered more happily than I’d answered Nana about being in
love with him, but I could tell he was still holding back. He loved his new
car, and he’d sold the station wagon to the shop to help pay for it. Jean
Kirchstein helped too, of course, which still amused me to no end. “I was gonna
ask if you wanted to go for a ride tonight, actually.”
Tilting my head slightly at him, I nodded. “Yeah, that sounds cool.”
“I just want to drive forever, now that I have a car I like driving.”
“I know the feeling.”
Eren paused, and part of me knew he was about to tell me how great my Camaro
would be running by the time he got it back to me. The process was taking
forever, but it was worth it. I felt a very strange rush of responsibility to
actually be paying for it, little by little, even if Eren’s new connections
with car people made the cost significantly less for me.  But before he could
feed me some excited platitude, he suddenly grimaced and clutched his stomach,
hissing. “Crap,” he added. I asked him if he was okay.
He shook his head at the same time that he groused, “Yeah…” and went on to tell
me about the state of his health. As he spoke I zoned out, which is something I
rarely did, just looking at him and watching him talk, wondering when he’d
turned from a boy of three or four amusing and sometimes contradictory
personality traits into a person with a full-fledged, complex life that I knew
all about. I knew his speech patterns, his normal gestures, the way he stood
and even the way he slept.
Knowing someone else fully was strange and disarming, and normally I’d just
sneer and call it gross. I was spending my free time – the free time we wanted
to spend, at least – with a high school kid who wanted to work on cars but also
wanted to go to college, who agonized over his schoolwork but still wouldn’t
let me tutor him because it was too weird. He was a good brother. He was a good
son even if he had nowhere to direct that energy, and I understood that so well
that we knew we didn’t need to talk about it.
Part of me still wanted to hold him up like a pest between thumb and
forefinger, asking the world at large “What is this? This wasn’t meant for me,
surely. What am I supposed to do with this?” Because he was the opposite of
everything I’d planned. I knewwho I was waiting for. I knew what was supposed
to be in my path. I had it figured out.
And that’s the strangest feeling, the most helpless you’ll ever be in your
life, to know that your plans don’t count for shit when it comes to other
people, because people aren’t fucking spots in the grout in your bathroom that
you just choose to fix or ignore or try to keep cleaning off.
It’s also kind of amazing, though, that feeling.
He stopped talking about looked right at me. Stupid emerald green eyes and
stupid baby face; I’d have to remind him not to stay out in the sun too much
because even if I wanted to be the pretty one, he needed to take care of his
skin, too.
“I love you,” I said.
First, his eyebrows pushed together, giving him that utterly confused look for
a moment, while his shoulders bowed up and his eyes darted back and forth. He
seemed horrified.
“What?” I asked, when he still wouldn’t look at me and even started to grimace
a little.
“Just… whoa. After what I just said.”
“What did you just say?” He looked supremely annoyed to know I hadn’t been
listening, but I quickly added, “I’m sorry.”
Eren rolled his eyes and touched the tips of his fingers to his forehead,
embarrassed to repeat it. “That I couldn’t figure out why my stomach hurt so
bad all day and I couldn’t tell whether I needed to throw up or fart.”
There was a pause and we looked quickly in different directions. Then, our eyes
wandered back and we just sort of stared at each other. “Oh. Gross.”
“Yeah.”
“I love you,” I repeated.
“I love you, too.” His voice was soft, and he reached in for my hand. His
fingers were still slightly cold, so I clutched them tighter.
Maybe things wouldn’t work out. Maybe I would change, maybe he would change,
maybe we would do that together or maybe we would do it apart, maybe I would go
on living like a long-form tragic poem and die alone or maybe I would start
wearing polo shirts instead of high heels and start paying taxes. Maybe
something in between would happen.
Maybe it was okay to admit I was happy.
Sometimes it’s best to just leave everything where it is and hope for the best
in the morning. I don’t know what morning is. The metaphor isn’t that strong,
I’m sorry.
“Does your stomach still hurt that bad?” I asked him.
He was fidgeting very slightly with my hand, because Eren always tended to hold
his extreme bursts of emotion inside. Knowing this, I knew his little twitches
were saying how happy he was, too. Sometimes that thing people call
communication is just as easy as knowing someone really well.
“Yeah, a little.”
“I’m just gonna ask, are you too sick to fuck?”
“I am not.”
“Chicken soup or bumping uglies, this is your last chance.”
Eren’s hand slid on my thigh and he grabbed my crotch with a flat, “Don’t fuck
with me.”
“You’re sending mixed signals, still,” I barely managed not to laugh as I said
it, and then Eren’s mouth was covering mine. He moved off of his bean bag chair
and over mine – over me– kissing and groping and doing that thing where he
showed me instead of told me exactly what he meant. That thing I absolutely
loved.
“It’s been a good week,” Eren mumbled between kisses, as my hands wrapped on
his waist and rubbed up under his work shirt. “And it keeps getting better.”
“It’s turning out to be a good year,” I added. He was too busy to respond, but
I can only assume he agreed. 
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