Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1533254.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Levi/Erwin_Smith
  Character:
      Levi, Mike_Zacharias, Hange_Zoë, Keith_Shadis, Erwin_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon, Lolita, Underage_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-04-28 Words: 9413
****** darling, anything ******
by arabesque05
Summary
     So Erwin took the boy. The boy went with Erwin. It was the same
     thing: people now asked after Erwin's boy. Just like that. Erwin's
     boy. In the first place, as if he were Erwin's; in the second, as if
     he were a child.
     Oh, but what a child.
Notes
     for the snkkink_meme_prompt: "An AU where Levi isn't in his middle
     thirties, but where his age suits his appearance, in other words,
     he's still an adolescent. Erwin is, though, a grown up man."
     Lolita!AU.
See the end of the work for more notes
Start at the beginning: he couldn't leave the boy. A boy like that, who seemed
to be made of wind and quicksilver, who well knew hunger but never acknowledged
defeat--a boy like that didn't belong in Lower Sina. A boy like that didn't
belong inside the walls at all. He was too alive. His vitalityburned. It was a
waste leaving him in the lower slums. 

So Erwin took the boy. The boy went with Erwin. It was the same thing: people
now asked after Erwin's boy. Just like that. Erwin's boy. In the first place,
as if he were Erwin's; in the second, as if he were a child.

Oh, but what a child. 
 
===============================================================================
 
It was hero-worship--how everything began. It could have been nothing else; and
how natural, how predictable, that hero-worship. Erwin ought to have guarded
against such things. A boy who had grown up in privations beyond Erwin's
imagining; a boy who had known only lawlessness and chaos and disorder. And
now: well-fed and well-clothed and well-rested--with even death as an orderly
thing: in formation, during regular missions, like clockwork.
The boy's voice was still girlishly high, his underarms smooth like a child,
and--properly fed now--he regained something of baby-fat in his cheeks, in the
palms of his small hands. He liked neatness, liked cleanliness, kept a
handkerchief in his pocket and often in fascination watched the laundresses
work. To such a boy, Erwin had spoken of things like "wings of freedom" and
"the hopes of humanity" and--glory.
What had Erwin expected? What boy's heart did not burn with desires of heroism?
How many children had Erwin seen, lining the streets everytime the Recon Corps
left for another mission?
No; no, it was worse than that. Erwin had not forgotten to guard against such
things. Erwin, after all, did not forget, Erwin did not miscalculate; Erwin
only sometimes kept plans hidden even from himself. In some small corner of his
heart, Erwin saw the boy and wanted him--and more than simply wanting, wanted
to keep.
Now: the way the boy's eyes followed Erwin, the way he silently trailed after
Erwin in the castle, the way he was always turned toward Erwin, as a sunflower
toward the sun--
Erwin never stopped him.
It was hero-worship on the boy's part. It was nothing so natural, so harmless,
on Erwin's.
 
===============================================================================
 
Levi did not kiss as one would expect. He did not kiss the way he fought, as if
it were an exercise in ruthless conquering. He did not kiss the way he spoke,
at once amused and disgusted. He did not kiss the way he kept house, with any
fastidiousness or regard to messes

Of course he did not kiss so. Those were things Levi grew into.

Levi kissed with surprising warmth: soft, and pliant, and something almost shy
in the way his mouth opened; with kittenish nips of his teeth, and inimitable
sweetness of tongue. These were not things he learned in trial and error with
multiple partners, the natural product of hotblooded youth.

No. It was how Erwin had taught him to kiss.
 
===============================================================================
 
The boy did not like training camp. He did not get along with the other
trainees. Rather, he had no interest in them. He did not converse with them
over meals and never broke curfew with them sneaking into town. Erwin fretted a
little that the boy was not adjusting well, but Keith said it was only because
no one else could keep up with him.
"Mind," said Keith, "he's still getting zero on teamwork. I'd give him negative
scores if I could. Only time he speaks with the others is to call them gross or
dirty or incompetent."
"Really," said Erwin faintly.
"Calls me the same too," said Keith, rubbing one finger along his forehead.
"What a little shit. You know the only reason I'm training him is as a favor to
you, Erwin. He's too young."
"Is he?"
Keith eyed Erwin balefully for a moment, and then relented. "No," he admitted.
"Goddamn, but I've never seen any one else take to Titan hunting the way he
has. Fucking genius, all right? That's not even considering what he'll be like
in a couple of years--gain a couple of inches and some muscle." Keith laughed,
with something like wonderment. "Makes me almost want to get back into the
field, just to see him work. I tell you, Erwin, if what those damn wall priests
are even a little bit true--about gods and all?--the boy's a god of death, come
to make war on the Titans."
That was gratifying to hear, of course. Erwin had seen the boy moving in 3DMG
earlier that morning--all lithe grace, as easy in the air as a hollowed-boned
bird. He was as good as Erwin had--no, he was better than Erwin had predicted.
The problem remained, though, that the boy did not like training camp and had
no desire to remain. Erwin, he wrote sometimes, in letters that Erwin lingered
over perhaps too long. Erwin could not help it: he had taught the boy how to
write, had wrapped his hand around the boy's and helped him guide a pen. There
was something of Erwin's own penmanship in the boy's handwriting, and Erwin's
chest knotted complicatedly when he saw that. But: Erwin, wrote the boy, It is
very boring here and I am learning nothing which you cannot teach me. I do not
see why I have to remain, and when I am finished with the lessons I shan't
remain.
Willful and self-assured, without the least regard for politeness or hierarchy-
-Erwin did not know what it was about the boy. There was something about him,
though. There was something about him which Erwin did not know how to refuse.
"Fuck, I didn't expect you to be so soft-hearted," said Keith. "I'm a bit
strict with the kids, of course I am--no reason that boy can't tough it out.
Hell, I don't know if they come any tougher than him."
"Yes," agreed Erwin. "But he's not going to need the full year. He's better
with the gear than some of your trainers, Keith. He's almost field-ready."
Keith stayed quiet for several moment. He looked at Erwin. Finally, he said,
"You're soft on him."
"Well," said Erwin. Of course he was. Erwin did not make it a habit of asking
for early graduation for every Recon recruit.
"Mind," continued Keith. "A talent like that, anyone'd be soft on him. But
you're not anyone, Erwin. And that boy--he's awfully soft on you. Never saw
anyone smile like that, when you came into camp today. Hell, never saw him
smile at all, entire time he was here--or looking like anything at all--except
on mail days and today, when you came. Like a pining girl, almost." Keith
leaned in closer, and asked in a quieter voice, "What's this about, Erwin?"
Erwin briefly considered saying something about boys with too grown-up eyes,
and grown-ups who...
But Keith wasn't even Recon Corps, and Erwin's trust was limited to a far
smaller group than that. He said, "Well, you know. I found him in Lower Sina,
and...."
It was enough. Lower Sina was a hellhole, and gratitude for being taken from
there was more than sufficient reason for a boy be so attached to his
commanding officer. "Ah," said Keith. "Well. All right. I'll have him take the
final exams next week then."
"Thank you," said Erwin.
The boy, however, was not so easily satisfied. "Another week," he frowned. He
looked at Erwin and asked, "Why can't you just take me back with you now?"
"You have final exams," Erwin said gently. 
The boy looked around the room--Erwin's, in a small inn near the training
grounds. There was no space to talk in the training barracks: Erwin remembered
that much from his own training days. The boy asked, "Are you going to bed
soon?"
"I have some papers to read," said Erwin.
"All right," said the boy, shrugging off his uniform jacket. "I want a bath
then, first."
Erwin stared for a moment. "Here?"
"Why not?"
"Child," said Erwin. "You cannot mean to stay--"
But he was scowling at Erwin. That did not happen often: he scowled at
things around Erwin, but very rarely at Erwin. "My name," he said, "is Levi."
"Yes," agreed Erwin.
"Not 'child', or 'boy', or whatever. It's Levi." He met Erwin's gaze, direct
and forthright.
Erwin knew that. Levi--the only thing which he had called his own in the slums,
that scrap of a name. The streets in Lower Sina knew it, the shadows in Lower
Sina knew it, all the people in Lower Sina knew the name Levi. Erwin knew it as
well. 
But Erwin did not use it. Child was a far better reminder than Levi--
child addressed the what and not the who. Erwin had not yet dishonored himself.
Erwin was maybe soft on Levi, as Keith said, but Erwin did not look where he
should not look, Erwin did not take what he should not take.
"So," said Levi, straightforward like no one else Erwin knew. "Call me that."
 
===============================================================================
 
Levi kissed like the morning dew, like the spring unfurling. That wasn't how he
fucked.

Fucking was a conquering, a battle and a war and the sweetest victory. It said
something about Erwin, perhaps, that he was Commander of the Recon Corps,
instead of the Military Police or the Garrison--that he regularly rode out into
Titan territary, as if spoiling for a fight. With Levi, it was the same, he--

No. No, that was a convenient reinterpretation of events. It wasn't that Erwin
liked waging wars and liked fucking Levi, as if they were independent events
with afterthought similarity. 

Erwin liked waging wars, and so fucking Levi was like one. That was the correct
order of things.

After all, Erwin had taught Levi how to fuck, as well.
 
===============================================================================
 
There was no crime in looking--but Erwin excusing himself so, that was already
an act of guilt. But Levi, Levi, Levi: light as a bird and lithe as a cat, that
pale face always so impassive; but sometimes when Erwin entered a room, or when
Erwin told him, "Good", or when Erwin invited him along somewhere--there was a
brightening of expression, an ineffable sweetness in how his boyish features
softened.
Erwin liked it: that Levi could soften so; that Levi softened so for Erwin;
that Levi softened so only for Erwin. Erwin was too old to like such things. It
was mere flattery of vanity. It was a schoolboy's love, that desire to possess.
Erwin was too old to be a schoolboy, and Levi too young, and that was the crux
of everything, that was what mattered.

Still. It was no crime to look.
 
===============================================================================
 
Levi did not fit in with Recon at first, in much the same way he did not fit in
at training camp. He had no desire to; he made no attempt. He did not like the
cardgames in the mess hall; he had no interest in visiting pubs; he remained
unimpressed with the stories older veterans told the new recruits. 
He liked watching Erwin do paperwork. In the early mornings, when dawn was
still only a pink streak along the horizon, and late at night, in the quiet
glow of lamplight, when Erwin settled at his desk when went through requisition
forms and mission reports and personnel files--then Levi climbed onto the couch
in Erwin's office, and curled into a near corner, resting his cheek on a pillow
as if taking a nap, and watched Erwin. 
It was not disquieting. Levi made no demands of Erwin's attention. He watched
seemingly without desire of reciprocation: as if only to keep an eye in Erwin,
to know where Erwin was.
It was, thought Erwin, not an act of hero-worship. Hero-worship was never half
so proprietary.
 
===============================================================================
 
Had Levi been a youth on the cusp of manhood--that might have been all right.
If not acceptable, there was at least tradition in that: Erwin had read the old
books. In war especially, such things could be overlooked--'spear should be
next to spear, helmet to helmet, seeing that Love is the only invincible
general': there was tradition in the love of a sweet-faced youth, the pleasure
taken between his thighs. 

But Levi was not a youth, he was a boy; and Erwin was not his shieldmate. Levi
was not even old enough for peach down to fuzz his chin; and Erwin did not
equally share the danger of battle with him. Erwin sent his men to die.
 
===============================================================================
 
Levi was a boy, but he was also a blade. Erwin had never held so fine a sword
as Levi, who apparently did not dull, did not chip, did not break. He only
became sharper with use. They stopped counting his kills. There was no point in
keeping score: what did statistics matter, in the face of everyone's certainty
that Levi would always win?

Erwin could not help the bright feeling in his chest whenever he saw Levi at
work, making neat, precise massacre of Titans. There was something of victory
in that feeling, of having been proved correct in his gambling; and even more,
the war was no longer an exercise in honorable death. Possibilities opened up
before Erwin in dizzying array, what he could do with an instrument as Levi. 

With Levi came faint, tremulous hope.

Erwin loved that first, before he ever came to love the boy.
 
===============================================================================
 
Erwin belonged to no faith and had no confessor. His soldiers' deaths troubled
him, but it was a good and necessary troubling; he did not want to be relieved
of it. Erwin's life was not made of much else. When a personal concern did crop
up, he spoke to Mike. Mike's judgment was sound, and his discretion
trustworthy.
Mike also thought, with unflattering frequency, Erwin ridiculous.
"Boy's already going to die for you," he said. "What's a fuck here or there
compared to that?"
"We die for our king and people," said Erwin, because he did not like the idea
of Levi dying, and even less the idea of Levi dying for Erwin. A thing like
Levi's life: only the king and people were worthy of such sacrifice; and even
then, Erwin found himself hesitant. It was to be avoided, if at all possible.
Mike snorted. "Maybe you're dying for the king and people," he said. He leaned
in closer, fixing his eyes on Erwin. "That boy, though--are you blind? He's not
doing any of this for the king and people. If the king were on fire and he had
water, he'd check to make sure you weren't thirsty first, before putting out
the fire. If he puts out the fire. Pretty sure the kid gives zero fucks about
royalty." He shrugged, indifferent. "Bed him if you want. I don't think he'll
put up much of a fuss."
"That is not--that is not the point," frowned Erwin. "He's a child, I can't--"
"Yes," agreed Mike. "But you still brought him into the Recon Corps, didn't
you?"
"In this, at least," said Erwin, low. "I do not want to--...There is service in
dying for the king and the people. And--good, and honor, and...cause. There is
none of that in corrupting a child."
"That's so," nodded Mike. He was quiet for a moment. "Between fucking and
killing, though, I wager killing's probably the more unnatural of the two." He
leaned back in his chair, sighing. "You're a good man, Erwin, as much blood as
you spill. Do what you think's right. That boy, though--he already kills a damn
sight better than I ever will, and pretty soon, someone's going to fuck him,
even if you won't. Me, I just want my Commander not to be distracted when we go
outside the walls."
"I won't be distracted," said Erwin.
Still, the thought prickled: that if not him, then someone.
 
===============================================================================
 
Erwin spoke to Mike sometimes, but such talks were exercises in abstraction.
Erwin was pained sometimes by--guilt? or was it shame? It didn't matter which;
those were abstract as well. Levi was a boy, Levi was a child, Erwin mustn't,
Erwin shouldn't--all abstraction, all theory. 
Erwin knew theory and abstraction. It was all numbers and calculations and neat
military lines on paper. Clean. Nice. 

But practice always devolved into blood and death.

In practice: the average Recon recruit did not live out the year. Talented as
Levi was, chances were slim that he would survive to adulthood. Erwin knew
that. Erwin still claimed him, still brought him into the Corps. Some things
were more important than individuals, yes: but Erwin did not get to play
innocent, or benign. He did not take Levi off the streets because
Levi deserved better. He did not take Levi off the streets because Erwin could
somehow help Levi. No, it was the other way around.

In practice: Levi did not need anyone's help. Levi was a boy, Levi was a child,
yes, yes, it meant nothing. Levi was a better soldier than any Erwin had
commanded before. Levi was a more natural killer than any Erwin had met before.
Levi took as well to Titan-hunting as he did to the streets of Lower Sina: he
made look easy what others could not do even when their lives were on the line.
The one protecting was not Erwin; the one who needed protection was not Levi.

In practice: it was not a matter of corruption. What had Levi not seen before,
on the streets, in the alleys, in backrooms of taverns and frontrooms of
brothels? What purity did Erwin mean to preserve in the boy, when he would
stain the boy's hands in blood? What vulgarity did Erwin mean to spare the boy,
what pretense of chastity did Erwin mean to keep, what did Erwin mean by boy,
what did Erwin mean by child--

What Erwin told Mike: Levi was a boy, Levi was a child, Erwin could not, Erwin
did not want to, Erwin would not. What Erwin did not tell Mike: in practice--
 
===============================================================================
 
The barracks were gendered; but the policy was not strictly enforced in the
Recon Corps. Erwin had considered briefly strict enforcement, when he first
brought Levi back from training camp; but Levi waved him off with the blunt
assurance that "a bit of fucking never kept anyone up". So Erwin left it at
that.
Not two weeks later, though, Erwin woke in the middle of the night to Levi was
standing in the doorway. He was holding a candle and looked very small and very
young in his undershirt and breeches.
"Yes?" asked Erwin, levering himself up on one elbow.
Levi took that as apparent permission, because he set the candle down on the
the bedside table and clambered onto the other side of the bed. 
"Levi, what--" Erwin stared as Levi disappeared into the bedsheets, to emerge
some moments later by the pillow next to Erwin.
"You run a very lax camp," Levi told him, the disapproval in his voice at odds
with its boyish sound. "You would think your men would have at least the
discipline to recognize their own beds."
"Has someone taken your bed?" said Erwin, mostly awake now: only, Levi was in
Erwin's bed, tousle-haired and pressing his cheek to Erwin's pillow. Erwin had
not, had not, wanted Levi there; but Levi was there, and Erwin was not
sufficiently in possession of himself to say, Go.
"No," said Levi around a yawn. His eyelids slid half shut. "But someone was
fucking in it today, and I do not like my blankets semen-crusted."
"...yes," agreed Erwin. The troops were getting a bit lax, he thought: it was
about time to go out the walls again. That woke Erwin up the rest of the way.
He said, "We do have spare sheets."
"Well, I don't know where they are, and you have a large bed, and I don't think
I am asking for very much. I am not very large, after all, and shan't take up
that much room."
"It isn't that," said Erwin, whereupon Levi said, "Good," and drew the sheets
over his shoulder, and curled into himself, his dark hair fanning out over the
pillow cover. Erwin swallowed. The matter seemed settled, and Levi was falling
asleep, and Erwin did not want to say Go, Erwin did not want to protest, Erwin-
-
Erwin leaned over, and blew out the candle. Then he settled into bed as well.
After several moments, he felt a small hand pluck at his sleeve, fingers
curling into the fabric--not so much a pull as a hold, the same way Levi
watched him sometimes: simply to know where Erwin was. "Go to sleep," said
Erwin, quietly.
"I did not think you would mind terribly," said Levi, just as quiet.
"I don't," said Erwin, and it was the truth. He did not mind terribly--or at
all. It would not do to admit it. He said, "You will have everyone think I am
playing favorites."
Levi scooted a bit closer at that. He said, voice somewhat brighter, "Are
you? Am I your favorite?"
Erwin stared up at the ceiling. Levi was a small bundle of warmth next to him,
tucked up close; it would be so easy to roll over, to cover him with Erwin's
own body, press him into the mattress, to let Erwin's bulk hold him down, to --
"Go to sleep," said Erwin, and closed his own eyes.
 
===============================================================================
 
Levi grew, but not very much. He would probably always be slightly built. He
learned the names of a few Recon scouts, which Erwin did his best to encourage.
Mike, of course: he and Levi shared a mutual appreciation for each other's
battlefield talents. Hanji: Levi was wary at first, but Hanji's laughing
enthusiasm for things like staking Titans in the eyeballs or severing tendons
soon won him over. Levi did not often act like a boy, however much he looked
it; but with Hanji and her experiments, his eyes grew bright with childlike
wonder.
"She's very clever, isn't she?" said Levi one day over lunch. They were in the
office, Erwin grimly wading through paperwork. Levi had moved from the couch to
the windowsill, perched on it with one leg dangling outside. He had been
catnapping in the morning sun, but Erwin woke him up for lunch. "Hanji, I
mean."

"She is," agreed Erwin, setting down his papers. He watched Levi eat bread for
a few moments: small, neat bites the way Erwin ate--not a hint of Lower Sina in
his manners. Levi was always a quick study. In a fit of--of perhaps perverse
curiosity, or half-hearted attempt at resisting temptation, Erwin added, "And
she does very interesting and necessary work. Would you be interested?--to work
with her."

Levi stopped eating. He looked up, something displeased in the furrow of his
brow. Erwin had not entirely worked out Levi's likes and dislikes yet, the
patterns of his temper. "No," he said, quite certain. He set his plate down in
front of him on the windowsill. "I will stay with you."

"Ah," said Erwin, turning back to his papers. They were not a very good
distraction. Nothing was a good distraction, when it came to Levi.
 
===============================================================================
 
Battle was Erwin's province: against Titans, against court politics, against
military bureaucracy. Such things absorbed Erwin's attention. But Levi was
growing famous, "Humanity's Strongest Soldier". It was difficult to overlook
such a thing, difficult not to leverage it when Erwin needed funding, when
Erwin needed troops. Levi--and his kill count--did more for the Recon Corps
than all their expeditions outside the Walls, when it came to sponsorship and
public support.
"My blade and PR team, all in one," Erwin called Levi.
Levi did not exactly smile, but there was the suggestion of it in his eyes, in
the corners of his mouth. "Is that good?"
Erwin settled a hand on Levi's head, the strands of his short-cropped hair very
fine and soft under Erwin's fingers. "You are winning all my battles for me."
Levi did smile at that. "And you are pleased?"
"Who can be displeased at victory?" Erwin took his hand back--but Levi made a
small motion forward, and caught Erwin's hand. Levi's own hand was small, so
very small, wrapped loosely around Erwin's fore and middle fingers. Erwin
looked at their hands for a long moment, Levi's pale and tiny, but well-
callused, holding onto Erwin's. It made something ache in Erwin's chest.
Levi, when Erwin looked at him, was staring at the ground, but there was a
stubborn set to his jaw. His hold on Erwin's fingers was not tight, but it too
was stubborn.
Erwin relented. It had been a hard few days: Levi was not particularly close
with any Recon member, but he had been getting friendly with some. Many of them
had died today. Levi had shown no grief, but Erwin knew--better than almost
anyone--that lack of expression did not mean lack entirely. Levi felt things,
even if he did not show them.
He drew Levi forward. Levi did not come even up to Erwin's shoulders. It was
not difficult at all to hide Levi's face against Erwin's chest, to wrap an arm
around Levi's shoulders, to stroke gently at Levi's hair, to say quietly, "Yes.
I am, very much."
 
===============================================================================
 
After that, after that--

--Levi crawling into Erwin's bed, Levi seeking Erwin for comfort, Levi who
allowed himself to be held and who would stay be Erwin's side, Levi who seemed
like the source of every good thing coming to the Recon Corps--

--Levi, who kissed Erwin first--

Erwin's control was not an infinite thing.
 
===============================================================================
 
Levi was rarely injured in battle, but he was always the first one in and the
last one out of a fight. The moments afterwards were the worst for Erwin, as
much faith as he had in Levi. War was not mathematics: it was confounded by bad
luck and chance and misfortune. Levi was strong, but there was no accounting
for malfunctioning equipment, or unfavorable winds, or a loose rooftile to trip
over. 
It did not help that Levi had taken to fighting two Titans at a time now, as if
one was insufficient challenge. 
"Really," sighed Erwin. "Is that necessary? We are not so hard-pressed that you
must--" That was too much chastisement. Erwin did not mean it as so. He gentled
his tone. "I would not lose you, Levi, for a few extra dead Titans."
Levi did not look up from where he was washing his hands, but there was a
pleased curl in his tone when he said, "It's all right. I am getting better--
it's not so risky now."
"Not so--" Erwin scrubbed a hand over his face. Two Titans at once: not so
risky. Levi's vocabulary was entirely different from everyone else's. Erwin
said, half-muffled, "Tell me you are not working on three."
Levi dried his hands, scrupulous. Then he set down the towel and went to Erwin,
who was sprawled out on the couch. Levi settled onto the cushions, in the space
between Erwin's legs. Erwin raised his head at that, very careful not to shift
his legs. Levi looked solemnly back at him. "I do not like to lie to you," he
said.
"Three!" murmured Erwin, letting his head fall back onto the couch arm. He
said, to the ceiling, "I do not suppose I can persuade you otherwise, at all?"
"Are you worried for me?" asked Levi. He did not sound--coy, exactly; but there
was the suggestion that he already knew the answer and that it pleased him.
Erwin told him anyway. "Yes, I am," he said. Rational arguments perhaps had no
effect on Levi, but Erwin had nothing against guilt-tripping. He continued: "I
worry about you every time you fight Titans. I worry about how your gear holds
up, and whether you are out of swords, and whether you have had a chance to
restock on gas, and what if a cord snaps, and fighting against three at a time,
Levi, that only--"
Something pressed down on Erwin's chest, small and heavy. Erwin lifted his head
again and--Levi was there, right there, leaning forward with his hands on
Erwin's chest. He looked at Erwin with those grave eyes. "Only what?" he said.
"Do you worry more when it's three? What else do you worry about?"
Erwin should have said: What are you doing? Erwin should have said: I worry
about you over-exerting yourself, which is why I'm sending you to help Hanji
for a bit. Erwin should have said: No, stop. Erwin should have said stop.
Erwin said, "You, when you don't fight against Titans, sometimes: if you are
hungry, or bored, or lonely, or unhap--"
It was clear what Levi wanted to do: there was no other reason for him to be
situated as he was, leaning forward with his face so close to Erwin's. There
was no reason for Erwin to be surprised, when Levi pressed forward, clumsily
kissing Erwin on the mouth. There was no reason for Erwin to be surprised.
Erwin expected it.
And yet: no expectation could have prepared Erwin for the soft warmth of Levi's
small mouth, the uncharacteristic clumsiness of his gesture. Nothing could have
prepared Erwin for how Levi held his breath; and how--the brave boy--he came
back a second time; and how Levi's eyelashes were long enough that Erwin could
feel them brushing his cheek, when Levi closed his eyes. Nothing could have
prepared Erwin for the shakiness of the boy's breathing when he pulled back a
second time, the slight tremor in his voice when he said, "Erwin--"
Nothing could have prepared Erwin for being kissed by Levi. But perhaps that
didn't matter. Perhaps even prepared, Erwin would have kissed back anyway.
As it was, he followed the boy's mouth, raising himself up on one elbow.
"Levi," he answered, as if he were not entirely lost himself; and pressed his
mouth to Levi's, light and butterflying. When eventually Levi sighed into
those, Erwin pressed in a little more, opened his mouth and made the kisses
wet: until Levi knew how smoothly lips could slide against each other, until
Levi knew the light sting of tugging teeth, until Levi shyly nipped back. Then
it was easy to lick at the seam of Levi's mouth, until Levi--
--until Levi opened up for Erwin, like the first crocus in spring.
 
===============================================================================
 
Erwin did not know how it happened: Levi in Erwin's bed. Erwin did not, did
not, did not know how: Levi with his dark hair splayed out against the white
pillows, Levi clenching the bedsheets in his small fists--Levi unable to keep
quiet the hitches in his breath as Erwin pressed in--as Erwin--as Erwin fucked
him--Erwin--
 
===============================================================================
 
It went like this: a kiss, that first one, soft and frail in ways Levi wasn't,
harmless in ways Levi wasn't. They could have stopped then. It might have still
been all right.
But they didn't, and it wasn't, and: a second kiss, stolen early in the
morning, before even the sun had risen. Levi came into the room and--but one
does not steal from the willing. One does not steal what was given. In the dim
pale light of dawn, Levi's expression was difficult to make out--but his mouth
was a hot thing, burning as a brand against Erwin's. 
And then: was Erwin to count them all, to number each kiss? To think, here, in
the corner of this hallway and here, underneath these stairwells and here, by
the door near the stables--to remember each time the feel of Levi's mouth
against his, to remember the curve of Levi's cheek against Erwin's palm, the
fall of Levi's hair against Erwin's hand? To think, by this window, where Levi
wrapped his arms arount Erwin's neck; and in this chair, where Levi crawled
onto Erwin's lap; and against this wall, where Levi would not be satisfied with
one kiss, and stayed closed when Erwin would have pulled away--but Erwin had
known that. Levi had not been satisfied with one Titan. Levi was never
satsified with anything less than complete capitulation. Erwin knew that. Erwin
had taught him that.
Levi could not be satisfied with one kiss. Levi could not be satisfied with
two. Levi could not be satisfied with kissing, could not be satisfied with
holding, could not be satisfied with anything less than--
--Erwin pressing him into the bed, laying between the sprawl of Levi's legs.
"What are you so afraid of?" Levi frowned--but he hooked one arm around Erwin's
neck and wrapped his legs around Erwin's hips. "I didn't follow some
chickenshit out of Sina."
"You're rather terrifying, for one," said Erwin. He leaned down and kissed the
frown furrowing Levi's brow.
"You've never been frightened of me," said Levi. He paused and drew back a
little, frowning even harder up at Erwin. "Are you frightened of me?" he asked,
in a different voice.
"Yes," said Erwin. "And of myself, around you."
"Oh," said Levi, relaxing. "That's all right, then."
"Oh?"
"Hmm," answered Levi, as if that settled the matter. He shifted a little, and
then drew Erwin's head down. He didn't kiss Erwin immediately. Up close, Levi's
eyes were dark--Erwin did not know much poetry, but some metaphor probably
could have been made about night skies. After a beat, Levi pressed his lips
against Erwin's, soft, and after another beat, opened his mouth and nipped
lightly against Erwin's lower lip. 
"Erwin," he murmured, not exactly plaintive. It was close, though. Erwin opened
his mouth and let Levi lick in, all the wet heat of Levi's tongue. It was
difficult to resist. Levi sighed, soft enough to be inaudible, and that was
difficult to resist as well. Erwin met Levi's tongue with his own, and followed
it back into Levi's mouth. Levi's hand came up, palming against Erwin's cheek.
He liked the scrape of the stubble there, he'd said. Erwin did not think about
how smooth Levi's own cheeks were.
After a bit, Levi's legs loosened around Erwin. His hips shifted, restless. He
was hard against Erwin's stomach. "Erwin," he said, "Erwin."
"Mm," said Erwin, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the underside of Levi's
jaw. The skin there was soft and very thin.
"I want--" said Levi. His hips rolled against Erwin again, almost as if to buck
Erwin off, but there wasn't any force behind it. Levi's breathing was faster,
and the color was high in his cheeks. It was obvious what he wanted. Erwin
reached down with one hand and felt the hot length of him through his breeches.
The fastenings were easily undone, and Erwin reached in with his hand. He
wrapped his fingers around Levi, passed his thumb over the head, already a
little wet.
"Oh," said Levi, mouth falling lax and open. The hitches in his breathing were
audible now, in time to how Erwin moved his hand. It was a heady thing, how
Levi sighed when Erwin circled the head with his thumb, how Levi's breaths grew
stuttered when Erwin turned his wrist. "Oh," said Levi, "oh, oh."
When he came, his stomach muscles tightened. His eyes closed, and he bit the
knuckles of his right hand. Erwin felt the hot splash of it against his
fingers, and milked Levi through the tremors. After a moment, Levi gave a long
sigh and--as if his strings had been cut--all the tension seeped out of him.
There were teethmarks on his fingers when he released his hand.
Erwin leaned in and kissed him. "Mm," said Levi, and kissed Erwin back. When
Erwin pulled away, the corners of Levi's lips were turned up: a smile, Erwin
supposed. "Are you going to fuck me now?" Levi asked.
"What?"
Levi bit Erwin lightly on the chin. "Dumbass," he said, with what--for him--
passed as affection. "If I wanted just a handjob, I have two hands myself."
Erwin rolled off Levi, onto the other side of the bed. "It's enough for
tonight."
Levi turned his head and looked at Erwin for several moments, considering. He
let Erwin draw the covers over them both, and didn't say anything when Erwin
blew out the candles. Erwin laid back down.
Finally, in the dark, Levi said, "All right." There was the sound of sheets
rustling, and then the sound of cloth hitting the floor. "Tomorrow, then," said
Levi.
"Levi," said Erwin--but it was no use. It was not an argument at all. Erwin did
not want to, either. "Go to sleep."
"You said that before, too," said Levi, over the sound of something else being
tossed on the ground. He drew back from the side of the bed and burrowed closer
to Erwin. He was all soft warm skin. He had taken his clothes off. "When I
asked if I was your favorite."
Erwin was silent. Levi tucked his cheek against Erwin's shoulder, already a
familiar gesture. He sighed, and--by the curve of his cheek--smiled. "I am,
aren't I?"
It would have been unkind, after everything, to disagree. It would have been
unkind and a lie. So Erwin closed his eyes and stayed quiet. 
It was probably answer enough. When Levi's breath evened out to the slow rhythm
of sleep, his cheek against Erwin's shoulder was still curved. Probably, Erwin
supposed, a smile.
 
===============================================================================
 
What was there to say after that? A man might be killed slowly, but murder was
a binary thing: the man died or he didn't. One could not kill only "a little
bit".
Levi was in Erwin's bed or he wasn't. Erwin could not sin only "a little bit".
 
===============================================================================
 
Levi was small, even for his age. His hips were slender, and Erwin's hands
could span the circumference of his waist without much trouble. A boy of Levi's
build was not meant to take someone of Erwin's size.
"Fuck you," spat Levi, something akin to battlelight in his eyes. His forehead
was damp with sweat, and his mouth was bitten-red, and his cheeks were flushed
with color. Erwin had never seen anything so devastating.
Levi squirmed, bearing down on the fingers Erwin had inside him. He made a face
and said, "All right, three."
"Levi--" said Erwin.
"Fuck you," said Levi again. "You're not that big. What are you to a Titan?"
"I don't think you've been doing this with Titans," said Erwin.
"Three," repeated Levi--and of course what Levi did with Erwin was different
from what Levi did to Titans; but his stubborness was the same. Levi's body had
never failed him--always fast enough, always flexible enough, always strong
enough. Levi did not know defeat.
Erwin withdrew his fingers and reached for the oil again.
Three fingers were difficult. Levi bit his lip again and covered his eyes with
one clenched fist. Erwin said quietly, "There is no merit in bearing pain for
pain's sake."
"It doesn't hurt."
"I don't like to see--" Erwin paused. It would not do to lie.
He didn't like to see Levi in pain: but mostly for what it meant. The pain was
a secondary concern. Erwin didn't like rust on his swords, didn't like dents on
his shield--didn't like to see Levi hurt because that meant injury to the
greatest weapon in Erwin's arsenal.
He turned his wrist a little. Levi hissed, and the smooth soft muscles around
Erwin's fingers clenched tightly. 
"I am not a good person, you know," said Erwin, low. He stared at the pale
expanse of Levi's neck, the bruises mottling along Levi's collarbones. Erwin's
fault, of course. "For something like this--I have wondered why we--why you-
-...Would you not have been satisfied with anyone else?"
Levi made no answer.
Erwin reached again for the oil. Three fingers this time was a little easier,
but that meant barely anything at all. Eventually, the tension in Levi's body
slackened. He was not so much looser as exhausted. When Erwin could turn his
wrist without undue resistance, when Levi was soft and yielding inside, Erwin
said, "We don't--"
"I want to," said Levi. "I want you to."
He lifted his hand and let his arm fall to the side. His eyelashed clumped
together, wet. Ah, thought Erwin. So I have made him cry. That weighed heavily-
-but no heavier on Erwin's heart than anything else he had made Levi do. One
cannot, thought Erwin, sin only a little.
So he spread Levi's thighs, and steadied himself, and pushed in. Levi was all
heat and unbearable tightness inside. The only things more unbearable were the
sounds Levi made, small and wet, when Erwin drew back. "Shh, shh," murmured
Erwin, half out of his head. "It's all right." He did not know what he was
saying. It did not matter, compared to how Levi felt inside.
The second stroke in was even worse, for the first had been marked by caution,
but the second held only pleasure. As Erwin pushed in, Levi made such--
such sounds, digging his fingers into Erwin's back. Erwin reached down with one
hand, between Levi's legs: he was soft, but it did not take much to bring him
back to full hardness. "F-fuck," said Levi. His arms drew up to loop around
Erwin's neck, and he pulled Erwin down to press a panting, messy kiss to the
corner of Erwin's mouth. 
This boy, thought Erwin. The ache in his chest was a worse pain than any injury
he had sustained in battle. Erwin did not know what to do with it, just as he
did not know what to do with Levi; but he also did not know what to
do without Levi, anymore; and this, now, as well. How hot and soft Levi was,
how sweetly he gave way inside--Erwin did not know how he could give up such
things, ever.
It did not last long after that. Erwin brought Levi over the edge first, and
then shortly after followed over himself. Levi made a pained sound when Erwin
pulled out.
"Sorry," said Erwin. 
"Mm," said Levi, vaguely. He blinked up on the ceiling. After a pause, he said,
"Do you--"
Erwin rolled off of Levi, pulling up the bedsheets to tuck around him. "What?"
Levi turned his head to look at Erwin. His expression was--blank, the way it
was just before battle. Hanji called it Levi's happy expression, and Mike
called it Levi's bloodthirsty expression, and Erwin wondered sometimes if there
was any difference between the two. Mostly, it reminded Erwin of mornings just
before dawn, a stillness as if the entire world held its breath in expectation
of something possibly wonderful. It was more a readiness to be happy, than
happiness itself.
"No," said Levi, drawing the sheets over his shoulder and turning on his side,
bowing his head until his face was mostly hidden in the pillow. Erwin stared at
the small huddle of shoulders, the unexpectedly fragile nape of Levi's neck.
There were no words in the entire language which could sufficiently express
what Erwin wanted to say. He did not know how to approximate it. It was not
possible to open one's chest and pull out one's beating heart and press it into
another's hands. It was not possible to convey meaning like that.
Very quietly, Levi said, "I wouldn't have been." He added, after a moment,
"Satisfied, I mean. With anyone else."
It was not possible to open one's chest and pull out one's beating heart and
press it into another's hands. Still, Erwin felt as if he had. There was
something pressing in Erwin's chest. Part of it was the thought that, next to
making Levi cry, Erwin had ruined him for anyone else. That was a familiar
weight. But there was something else too--a pressure not on the heart, but in
it. It felt as if something were overflowing. 
It felt a little like how light spilled when dawn broke.
 
===============================================================================
 
That was not the end of it: not at all. Erwin still sent Levi into battle, and
Erwin still took Levi to bed, and Erwin did not know how to separate the one
from the other. 
"I will kill you too one day," said Erwin. 

It was raining outside, and Levi had settled himself on the office couch again.
Erwin was writing letters. It was not a task which Erwin enjoyed, but one at
which he excelled anyway. Erwin was a good liar, especially about things like
how bravely a person died. 

Now, he said, "I do my best to kill you already. Every expedition we go on, I
send you as vanguard. I cannot--"

"'M still alive," said Levi. His words were slow, a little sleepy, as if he had
been dozing. "You're doing a pretty shit job."

"We have been lucky," said Erwin. He set down his pen. The letter would keep.
It seemed suddenly important to make Levi understand. "You have been
outstanding, of course. I am not denying your abilities. Yet I cannot discount
luck in our success so far--but I cannot count on luck either, do you see?"

Levi lifted his head a little, propping his cheek against the couch arm. He
looked at Erwin. "I can win more victories for you than luck," he said.

It might have been a promise, but Levi made it sound more like a statement of
fact. Erwin did not know how to refute such faith. It was probably true,
anyhow.

"Count on me instead," Levi said. That was a promise. His eyes were very dark
and steady. He meant, I will win you the war.

Erwin wanted to believe it. Erwin did believe it. That was the danger. Erwin
was biased about Levi, his judgment compromised. Erwin's decisions were
suspect. He did not know how to look at Levi objectively anymore, to weigh Levi
in terms of Titans killed and injuries sustained. Erwin did not know how to
look at Levi without seeing the boy and the youth and the man he would be one
day; without seeing the fastidiously clean uniform, and glimmers of wry humor
in the corners of his mouth, and the thin soft skin on the underside of his
jaw. Erwin did not know how to unsee any of that.

"Once, you were the sharpest sword in my armory," said Erwin quietly. "You
would never dull or shatter or chip. Magicked, like something pulled out of a
stone."

The rain grew louder outside, a heavy patter against the window panes. After
several moments, Levi said, "And now?"

Erwin stared at his half-written letter. Vulnerable, he might have said, as if
my heart grew legs and went around swinging in 3DGM unarmored. Levi would not
appreciate the comparison, though. Erwin picked up his pen again and dipped it
in ink. It was more true to say, "Like someone I will kill one day."
 
===============================================================================
 
Making camp outside the walls, Levi came to sit next to Erwin by the sentry
fire. There was a card game in one of the tents, but Levi tucked himself along
Erwin's side and looked out into the dark night. The moon was a thin sliver,
but the stars were bright. They sat together in silence for a while.
"Do you remember--when you first became Commander--the first person who died
under you?" asked Levi.
"Yes," said Erwin. It wasn't the sort of thing one forgot, even with practice.
"Left-handed, her sixth expedition. Very good at maneuvering in 3DGM, had a
talent for getting to Titans' blind spots."
Levi considered that. He said, "And the second?"
"His first expedition," said Erwin. "Not very fast, sometimes fumbled when
attaching new blades. Had a good head for maps, though."
"And the third?"
"Another first expedition," said Erwin. He looked up at the sky, how much
brighter the stars were outside the walls. "Short, scrappy. Good with horses."
Levi leaned forward to add wood to the fire. They listened to the crackle of
burning wood, and under that, the sound of wind over open plains. It was not
something one heard inside the walls.
Levi said, "You think you will get all of us killed, don't you?"
"I have been very successful at it, so far."
Levi leaned his head against Erwin's arm. He was a press of uncomplicated
warmth along Erwin's side. Erwin held still, that Levi might stay so.
"I don't remember the first person I pickpocketed," said Levi. "I was too
young. But even when I was older, I don't remember most of the people I stole
from, or fought, or threatened--I don't feel guilty about it. I did what I had
to, to live."
"Yes," said Erwin. 
"And I did," said Levi. "I lived." He raised his head, looking up at Erwin. "So
you too. You do what you have to, to win."
"Is it that simple?"
"You won't have to kill anyone anymore, when you win," said Levi, settling his
head back on Erwin's shoulder. "You won't have to make yourself."
They stayed like that, for some time. Erwin thought about guilt, and deaths,
and how much of it was on Titans and how much of it was on himself. It was
difficult to sort through. He felt worse about Levi--with Levi, there was a
sense of guilt. With Scouting Corps, and its mortality rates, there was only a
sense of inevitability. He had to go on. They had to continue the work. There
was so much yet left to do.
After a while, Mike came to relieve Erwin of sentry duty. Levi had fallen
asleep, so Erwin carried him back to their tent. He was light in Erwin's arms,
small-framed and thin-boned. And one's heart, Erwin remembered suddenly, was
only the size of one's fist. That seemed incredible. So small, for the work it
did.
It was perhaps a more apt comparison than Erwin meant. He would probably kill
them both, one day. Perhaps he already had. That would account for the ache in
his chest.
 
===============================================================================
 
Erwin did not know what it was like to not be at war--Erwin was always at war.
Still, such a thing must exist, he supposed. There must, he supposed, be
children inside Wall Rose who, decades removed from the last time a Titan
approached the walls, did not know violence or fear or death. There must be
children for whom Titans were like monsters out a fairy tale.
Levi was not such a child, of course. Erwin would have no use for him if he
were. Levi had been born to violence and fear and death. Levi had been born at
war. 

Some days, Erwin was grateful for this. Those were hard days. Other days, he
wished for Levi as comfortable a life as those at-peace-children led, a life
where Levi did not have sword calluses on his palms and did not limp from 3DGM
strap burns and where he had never met Erwin Smith. Those were harder days.
 
===============================================================================
 
Between missions, Erwin liked to spend some early mornings on top the Wall
Maria ramparts. He sat with his legs over the side, watching the sun come up.
Levi joined him more often than not, quiet and sleepy. The Outside spread out
before them, golden-lit in young, morning light--an expanse of trees and plains
and rolling hills, the open horizon stretched out almost frighteningly vast.
"I might have been a farmer," said Erwin, musingly. "If not for the walls and
Titans. If there weren't a war happening, I think farming's a good, noble
profession. It might suit me. Or maybe a schoolteacher. My father was one, did
I ever tell you? I could teach math."
Levi made a face. He was not fond of mathematics.
"You'd be a shit farmer," he said instead. "You get antsy when there aren't
people for you to order around. Carrots don't grow faster just because you tell
them to."
"I can be very persuasive with carrots," smiled Erwin. "Rutabagas, now..." He
leaned back on his elbows and considered Levi for a while. "And you--you could
be a tailor or a storekeep or gone to school--"
Levi snorted. "I don't want any of your fancy schools--"
"Now, now. I could be teaching at that school--"
"I'd rather grow rutabagas with you on your farm."
"Just invited yourself along, did you?"
Levi shrugged. He said, depressingly matter-of-fact, "I'd be a gutter rat
whether there was a war going on or no."
Erwin did not like to think on that. He said, And now you hunt Titans,"--but
that was not much more of a comfort.
"Now I hunt Titans," agreed Levi. They sat in companionable silence for a
while. There was still something Levi wanted to say, and Erwin had the time to
be patient. He waited. Eventually, Levi said, "I like the war."
That was not a sentiment Erwin frequently heard. He sat up. "Really," he said.
"Not," Levi waved a hand, "everything about it. Not when people die. But--
I like fighting. I like going outside the walls. The sky's bigger--outside, you
know? And if there hadn't been the war, you wouldn't have taken me with you,
so." He turned to look at Erwin, with something like a smile in the corners of
his mouth. The sun was bright in his eyes. Erwin had led him out of the walls
and into hell, again and again and again, and here he still was: Erwin's boy.
"I do not like the war," said Erwin, which was not entirely the truth. It hurt
to look at Levi--it was like looking at the sun. "But it brought me you." He
made a helpless gesture with his hand.
Erwin did not hate the war. Erwin only hated what the war had made of him. And
yet, were he given the choice, he would still choose it all just the same
again.
 
===============================================================================
 
Levi liked the war and Erwin tried his best not to. Levi was slightly more than
human, it seemed, when he fought Titans--and Erwin slightly less. Levi's heart
was indomitable and never knew fatigue; Erwin's was stone and never knew
regret. They were both monsters in their own way, but there were bigger and
more ruthless monsters outside the walls. Levi didn't think about it too much
and Erwin tried his best not to.

All things considered, Levi was well-fed and slept in a bed most nights. He had
warm clothing in winter, and well-cobbled shoes always, and got to kill very
big things when pissed off. He and Mike played card games, some nights, during
which they both cheated outrageously. Hanji plied Levi with alcohol every now
and then despite Erwin's protests, and shared with him her latest discoveries
about how to inflict the most damage on Titans. When things were too much, when
Levi felt as if he were wading through the blood of all the people he knew--
there was Erwin, whole and strong and sun-burnished. Levi was--probably--as
happy as he knows how to be.
 
===============================================================================
 
"After we win," said Levi, certain in that eventuality, "you
won't actually teach math, will you?" He sounded worried.
Erwin allowed himself to be teased into good humor again. "When you have
already invited yourself to my rutabaga farm?" he replied. Levi aimed a kick at
Erwin's shin. Erwin reached over and mussed Levi's hair. When, eventually, they
descended down from the wall ramparts, Erwin was laughing and there was
something of a proud buoyancy in the spring of Levi's step. The sun was bright
overhead, and the sky was very blue. It was a good morning.
 
===============================================================================
 
Erwin was not exactly happy, but he survived at least, against Titans, against
himself. Sometimes, when he woke up warm in bed, and Levi sleeping deeply next
to him, and not very many people died on the last mission--sometimes even
Erwin's heart faltered with wonder. Sometimes, in the midst of battle, Erwin
looked at the gleaming blades in Levi's hands--and almost saw wings on Levi's
back, the print on the fluttering cloak almost real--

Erwin dared to allow himself a very small hope that they might win this war
yet.
End Notes
     "And did not the erotic Pammenes change the disposition of the heavy-
     armed infantry, censuring Homer as knowing nothing about love,
     because he drew up the Achaeans in order of battle in tribes and
     clans, and did not put lover and love together, that so "spear should
     be next to spear and helmet to helmet", seeing that love is the only
     invincible general."
                                                                - Plutarch
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