Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/908985.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Levi/Eren_Yeager
  Character:
      Levi_(Shingeki_no_Kyojin), Eren_Yeager
  Additional Tags:
      sleeping_bag_porn, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-02 Words: 2565
****** barely legal ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     It’s almost intimate – almost. Levi shivers, and then Eren whispers,
     “good night Corporal”, and whatever had been building between them is
     lost. Levi kicks Eren in the shin, Eren yelps embarrassingly loud,
     and someone tries to muffle another giggle.
     It’s going to be one hell of a long night.
     [Now with bonus fanart!]
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
 “Really, Corporal, I –”
“Did I fucking stutter?” Levi snaps, and someone giggles. Eren flushes and
fidgets with the hem of his shirt. It’s an unexpected reaction; Eren is many
things, but modest doesn’t fit him. Still, he’s standing beside Levi’s sleeping
bag, fingers twisting and smoothing the white fabric of his undershirt. He
still has his belts on, for fuck’s sake. Levi sighs, and rolls over onto his
side, fixing Eren with a glare.
“You’re no good to us if you get sick. I’ve got better things to do than play
nursemaid. So quit acting like a blushing bride and get the fuck in here.
That’s an order.”
Eren makes a face like he’s going to say something, then swallows whatever
words were on his lips. The look of mortification on his face as he undoes his
belts is mildly entertaining, made even more so by someone – Erd? – catcalling.
Eren stoically says nothing, folding his belts into a pile on the ground,
nearly jumping out of his skin when Levi clears his throat.
“The fuck are they teaching you these days? Don’t just leave those there. Go
put them with your tack. Your boots too.”
The camp is deathly silent as Eren scampers through it, everyone collectively
holding their breath. Levi rolls his eyes in the dark, cursing whatever bad
luck lead Eren to leave his sleeping gear back at base. He should – and
probably will – kick his ass for that. It’s high time Eren grew out of rookie
mistakes.
At least Eren has the sense to kick off his socks before wriggling in to the
sleeping bag, but when he starts to take off his shirt, Levi jerks forward so
violently that he nearly headbutts Eren in the chin.
“What the fuck, Eren.”
“My shirt, sir, it’s uh. Dirty?”
“Nice fucking try. Your shirt may be –” here Levi pauses, wrinkling his nose “–
dirty, but it’ll be a cold day in hell when I let you rub your unwashed, sweaty
chest all over me. The shirt stays.”
 “Yes sir,” Eren says, defeated, dropping his arms to his side. He lies down
gingerly, zipping the sleeping bag closed. Levi can practically feel Eren’s
anxiety, like cold fingers on his neck. It’s irritating. Eren is irritating.
Eren lying on his back taking up more than his fair share of the sleeping bag
is irritating. Levi has to hold his breath to keep from saying anything; it
won’t do him any good to yell at Eren now.
Finally, after what feels like hours, Eren rolls over onto his side. He’s
facing Levi’s back, still trying to keep as far away from Levi as he possibly
can. Still, the space is cramped; Levi can feel Eren’s arm above his head, his
puff of his breath ghosting hot on his shoulder blade. It’s almost intimate –
almost. Levi shivers, and then Eren whispers, “good night Corporal”, and
whatever had been building between them is lost. Levi kicks Eren in the shin,
Eren yelps embarrassingly loud, and someone tries to muffle another giggle.
It’s going to be one hell of a long night.
                                       *
The sound of a zipper being undone has Levi awakening with a jolt and
scrambling to sit up. It isn’t until Eren starts stammering out half whispered
reassurances-slash-apologies that Levi remembers his current sleeping
arrangements.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Levi whispers as sternly as he can manage, and
Eren’s back stiffens. He says nothing.
“Well?”
“I was – I was just –”
“If you piss the bed Eren, I will end you.”
Eren makes a choked noise that may or may not have been a reply. With his back
to Levi, he’s hunched in on himself, arm hanging out of the sleeping bag. Half
awake, it takes Levi a minute to put the pieces together. In the moonlight, he
watches the rise and fall of Eren’s chest, far enough away that he isn’t
touching, but close enough that all it would take is for Levi to unbend his
arm…
He’s fifteen, a helpful part of Levi’s brain reminds him. Fifteen and
hopelessly earnest, fifteen and attractive, fifteen and lying inches away,
aroused and ashamed of it.
“Zip that up,” Levi finally says, resigned, “and get over here.”
“Sir?’
“Did you not hear me?”
The moment hangs between them, as sharp as steel and as fragile as glass. Levi
watches as Eren’s shoulders begin to shake minutely.
When he was a little more than Eren’s age, he had hunted rabbits as part of
Erwin’s squad. Once trapped, most rabbits would fight against the snare,
kicking up clouds of dust and grass. Occasionally, Levi would come across some
that seemed to know their fate – they would simply sit still as stone, waiting
for Levi to slit their throats.
He places his hand tentatively on the small of Eren’s back and is rewarded with
a soft sound. He does not bolt.
“You want me to stop, you say something. Understood?”
“Yes sir,” Eren breathes, and Levi snorts. There’s a beat of silence, and then
Eren slowly does the zipper up. In the quiet of the night it sounds achingly
loud, but no one so much as rolls over.
“You done this before, brat?”
He’s asking for the sake of Eren’s nerves – Levi knows the answer before he
even asks, sees it in the shake of Eren’s hands and the nervousness of his
breathing. It’s not a surprise when Eren shakes his head, but Levi hums in
response anyways.
Sentimentality hasn’t been a part of sex for Levi in years, so when he kisses
Eren soft and slow, it’s for both of their benefit. He nips at Eren’s bottom
lip, testing, and Eren whimpers open-mouthed and hot.
“Shut up,” Levi hisses, running a hand up Eren’s side. “You wake the rest of
the squad, you’re a dead man.” Eren nods eagerly, and rests his hand on Levi’s
hip. It’s a bold move belied by the softness of Eren’s touch, nearly ticklish
in its shyness. His fingers skirt under Levi’s waistband, but don’t dare go
further than that, tracing lines over the jut of his hip and the dip of his
pelvis. It’s maddeningly endearing, unintentionally teasing, and Levi can tell
without looking that Eren is eyeing his crotch.
They stay like that for a while, Eren following Levi’s hips with the pads of
his fingers while Levi runs slow circles across Eren’s chest. Both of them are
hard and both are unwilling to make the first move; in the darkness, Eren looks
desperate, young and unaccustomed to pleasure born from patience. It’s a game
for Levi, a test of Eren’s resolve, and it doesn’t take long for Eren to break.
His kiss is sloppy, lacking the finesse that comes with practice, but it’s
eager. His tongue is messy against Levi’s mouth as he licks his way in, and
Levi rewards him with a rake of nails across a nipple. Eren starts, jerking
upwards. His fingers tighten around Levi’s hips, scratching lightly. When Eren
pulls his mouth from Levi’s he looks like a desperate man.
“Levi,” he breathes, voice admirably quiet. “I –”
“‘Levi’? Who said you could call me that, brat?” It’s a risky move, and for a
moment Eren looks thrown off balance. Then –
“Corporal,” Eren says in a voice that goes straight to Levi’s groin. “Can I –
can I touch you?”
“You are touching me,” Levi deadpans, dragging his hands across Eren’s sides,
delighting in the way that Eren shudders.
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t.”
“Le – Corporal,” Eren whines, hips canting.
“You don’t have to ask,” Levi relents, and in one quick move he squeezes Eren
through his pants. The noise Eren makes is criminal.
“Well, Eren?”
To his credit, Eren barely hesitates before fumbling with Levi’s fly. His grip
is unsure, hands soft, and for a moment he just holds Levi, testing the weight
of him.
“It doesn’t bite.”
Eren snorts back a laugh, awkwardness temporarily relieved. Tightening his
grip, Eren gives an experimental tug that has Levi’s breath hissing through his
teeth.
It’s a little too rough, but then Eren does it again, and Levi thrusts
awkwardly into Eren’s hand. It’s sloppy, not skillful enough for Levi to get
off, but it’s good. Eren’s focusing entirely on the motions of his hand with
all the concentration he applies to everything else in life. Before Levi can
remark, Eren shifts, looming above him and then his mouth is on Levi’s cock. He
shoots Levi a look, eyes wide and cheeks hollowed, and it’s all Levi can do to
keep from waking half the camp. He threads a hand through Eren’s hair,
massaging circles onto his scalp, and Eren hums in approval.
Eren applies the same determination to this as he does to everything else,
alternating between lapping eagerly and messy thrusting. There’s the occasional
accidental scrape of teeth on flesh, but Eren’s tongue finds the sensitive spot
underneath the crown, and Levi lets himself moan softly. Somewhere in the back
of his mind, Levi is surprised by Eren’s selflessness – he hasn’t touched Eren
yet, not really, hasn’t even unzipped his pants.
“Eren,” Levi breathes, and jerks Eren’s head back. Eren gives him a wounded
look, lips shiny with spit.
“Strip.”
“Even my shirt, sir?”
His cheekiness takes Levi by surprise; in the moonlight he can see Eren
grinning, all mischievous teenager. In response he grabs Eren by the collar of
his shirt and pulls. Eren lands on him with a thud, chin clacking against
Levi’s shoulder. He grabs Eren by the hips, holds him steady, and grinds.
Eren’s breath stutters, warm against Levi’s ear.
“If you make a mess of my clothes, you’re cleaning it up,” Levi whispers,
tracing his tongue along the shell of Eren’s ear and he swears he’s never seen
Eren move faster. He takes off his shirt with ease and places it – haphazardly
folded – just outside the sleeping bag. Levi mirrors him, making sure that his
shirt is placed over top of Eren’s.
Eren hesitates over his pants, watching intently as Levi shucks his, kicking
them to the bottom of sleeping bag. He’s not ashamed of his body – there’s
nothing to be ashamed over – but Eren’s staring at him like he’s trying to see
inside of him, down to his very bones. It’s unsettling, and so Levi reaches for
Eren’s fly instead. He unzips carefully, slowly, taking note of the way Eren’s
breath hitches as his fingertips drag over his erection. When he shrugs his
pants over his hips, Levi jerks his boxers down with them.
He paints a pretty picture like this, pants at his knees, face flushed.
Nakedness has him vulnerable; he looks anywhere but at Levi, eyes fixated on
something behind him. Levi tugs him down, a hand on shoulder, and lets his
mouth slant over Eren’s neck. At the first graze of teeth Eren clutches at his
shoulders, fingertips pressing hard into his skin. His breathing is quick and
shallow on Levi’s neck, hips bucking.
“Shhh,” Levi reassures, hands running down Eren’s back to settle on his hips.
When he rolls his hips upwards, Eren hisses in his ear.
“Shhhh.”
With one hand stroking comforting circles on the small of Eren’s back, Levi
grinds against him again, and Eren jerks his hips clumsily in response.
Inexperience makes their rhythm clumsy, but Eren’s eyes are closed, hair mussed
with sweat, lips parted. He’s being painfully quiet, and Levi has the sudden
irrational urge to hear him.
"Feel good, Eren?" Levi whispers, and Eren's eyes fly open. He nods shakily,
and Levi yanks his head upwards, pressing his teeth against Eren's Adam's
apple.
"Tell me."
"C-corporal, I –"
"Tell me."
Eren makes a low, keening noise in the back of his throat; Levi releases his
hair in return.
"It feels good," he breathes, and Levi rewards him with a kiss. Eren sighs into
his mouth, body slackening. His bare chest hovers over Levi's, close-but-not-
touching, shoulders shaking, and Levi suddenly recalls his comment from earlier
that night. He turns away to smile against Eren's neck, and then places his
hands on Eren's shoulders, pushing down gently. Eren half-starts as he falls,
half turns to stare at Levi in disbelief, and the wave of affection Levi feels
is downright embarrassing.
“You close yet, brat?” Levi
"What about," Eren breathes and then "um, I mean, for you -"
"Spit it out, Eren."
"T-to make you come, sir," he hastily tacks on, and Levi closes his eyes
against Eren's shoulder. He's all but stilled against Levi, nearly vibrating
with tension.
He wriggles his way out from under Eren, sad to lose the feel of Eren’s teeth
scraping against his neck, and grips Eren's cock. He tugs, thumb rolling over
the head, and Eren squeaks at him, wide-eyed.
Eren's hand on his cock is only slightly more confident than before, but he
mimics the twist of Levi's thumb brilliantly. In the haze of his arousal, he's
slipping in and out of focus, grip alternating between lax and firm. He makes
an effort to warn Levi before he comes, breathy "I think I'm -". His concern is
unexpectedly considerate, and Levi can't help but picture the look that Eren
would have on his face if Levi were to unexpectedly come in his mouth. It's a
thought to file away for a later date.
Levi makes a face at the mess on his hand, and Eren, with his hand still
wrapped around Levi's cock, looks him dead in the eye, grips Levi’s wrist, and
brings his fingers to his mouth.
“Where did you learn to do that, brat?” Levi rasps at the first flick of Eren’s
tongue, marveling in the look on Eren’s face. Eren flushes and wipes Levi’s
hand on his thigh and Levi looks at him with distaste. Eren frowns at him,
questioning.
“I didn’t say you could stop.”
“Sorry.”
“Did you like it?”
Eren squirms, and Levi laughs softly.
“It’s fine either way. Whatever you like is fine, Eren.”
Eren says nothing, gnawing on his bottom lip thoughtfully, and then –
“I’d like to taste you as well, Corporal.”
His hand is still on Levi’s cock; Levi covers Eren’s hand with his own and
guides him through the strokes. Eren’s still staring at him like he’s afraid
Levi will disappear on him. 
Eren makes a sound of surprise when Levi comes into his hand, hot and messy.
It’s an act of will for Levi to open his eyes and watch as Eren licks his hand
clean.
                                       *
They redress in silence – “there’s no way I’m being caught sleeping naked with
you, brat” – and Eren hunches in on himself as if determined to take up as
little space as possible.
“Eren. Eren."
“Yes, Corporal?” Eren’s voice quavers as he replies, face half-hidden by his
arms.
“Do you need a written invitation?”
“For what, sir?”
“For fuck’s sake, Eren. Stop sulking and get over here.”
He hesitates still, inches away from Levi, and it’s an effort not to smack him
upside the head. Instead, Levi very deliberately rolls over, grabbing Eren’s
arm as he does so. He feels Eren rest his forehead against his back, hand
splaying across Levi’s ribs. The tenderness of it is comfortable, albeit
unfamiliar. He could get used to this - a dangerous thought to have, but true
nonetheless.
 
“Corporal,” Eren whispers quietly into the fabric of Levi’s shirt.
“What.”
“Good night.”
In the darkness, Levi rolls his eyes.
“Good night."
End Notes
     Originally I just wanted this to be simple frot-in-a-sleeping-bag
     porn but noooo it ended up being all over the place. It's kind of a
     disaster and I am so tired of looking at it so I am inflicting it on
     all of you. Title is just a reference to a song by The Strokes. The
     fanart is by the lovely and oh-so-talented highviscosity uvu. Thanks
     for reading~
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