Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3739654.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Levi/Erwin_Smith
  Character:
      Erwin_Smith, Levi
  Additional Tags:
      Pederasty, Power_Dynamics, Age_Difference
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-04-13 Updated: 2017-12-20 Chapters: 6/? Words: 12574
****** puer delicatus ******
by Cerberusia
Summary
     So Levi Ackerman is eleven, just on the cusp of puberty; an
     unprepossessing child in both looks and personality, and so
     overlooked as a potential catamite by most.
     Erwin is infatuated.
Notes
     As you can see, I am cheerfully ignoring ACWNR and probably various
     bits of the manga, on which I am not yet fully caught up. So this is
     a pre-canon AU involving Erwin and Levi meeting much sooner than they
     actually did, and the shenanigans that ensue.
***** Chapter 1 *****
God, but the Captain's adopted son is a sulky one. Eleven years old and already
deeply jaded - well, that's what having Kaney Ackerman as a guardian will do to
you. But married to a child's obstinacy, it's not just irritating, it's
maddening. At this rate Erwin's going to have to become a fugitive from
justice, because he'll have throttled Kaney's son to death.
Alternatively, he'll have done something else to the boy which will also make
him a wanted man. For Erwin is a man of specific tastes: in paperwork, in tea,
and in boys. The general consensus is that boys are at their most beautiful at
twelve or thirteen, when they attain that transient pubertal glow just before
they tip over the edge into oily awkwardness.
Erwin prefers the stage just before this. Young though he is, he still keeps to
the old beliefs that a liaison with a pretty boy should teach the boy something
- and not just how to suck cock. It's meant to be a mentorship bond, a learning
experience. That's why he prefers to pluck his fruit a little less ripe: the
earlier you catch promise, the better you may shape it.
So Levi Ackerman is eleven, just on the cusp of puberty; an unprepossessing
child in both looks and personality, and so overlooked as a potential catamite
by most. Erwin sees in him the same marks of greatness as are found in Kaney -
along with an enchanting tilt of the head which implies that he knows better
than 'Old Man Erwin' (who is in fact the youngest officer in the Garrison) but
cannot be bothered to explain to him his fatal error.
Erwin is infatuated. When Levi joins the officers at meals, Erwin always makes
room next to himself for a skinny eleven year old to fit; he prefers not to be
disturbed while working, but his door is always open for footsteps too light to
be an adult's. He idly fantasises improbable scenarios in which Levi ends up
sitting in his lap.
It's all but impossible to trick Levi: growing up in the slums has given the
boy the danger sense of an alley cat, and reflexes to match. Besides, if Erwin
wants a working relationship with Levi after this - which is the main object of
the exercise - he has to base it on trust. He has to get Levi to trust him -
which, given his aforementioned feline tendencies, is no easy task. Usually
boys can be tempted with sweets and pretty things and flattery; Levi is weak to
these things, but like the cat, he gets close only to take the offering, then
swiftly makes off with his prize.
But it’s a place to start. Levi has quickly developed an appreciation for the
finer things in life, particularly tea, a drink which most children his age
find palatable only with copious milk and honey but Levi takes black. So Erwin
invites him to take tea with him. After eyeing him up and down, Levi accepts.
He relaxes into the armchair: Erwin has put in extra cushions so he can do that
without ending up horizontal, but his legs still don’t quite reach the floor.
“I remember that you don’t take honey in yours,” he says when Levi raises an
eyebrow at the lack of honey jug on the tea tray. “Since I don’t either, I
thought I wouldn’t waste it.” Erwin knows that Levi despises waste.
Body relaxed but eyes watchful, Levi shrugs and waits for Erwin to pour.
They make small talk about Levi’s studies, which he seems to take quite
seriously, though Erwin knows he’s not much of a reader. Levi’s trying to work
out Erwin’s hidden agenda the whole time, he can just tell, and Erwin lets him
try to read his body. He doesn't keep a poker face, though he has an excellent
one: he just lets his genuine interest in Levi's mind show. Interest in his
body can wait.
Erwin invites him back the next week, and Levi accepts again. It takes seven
visits for Levi to finish his tea, lean back in his chair still full of
cushions, and say:
"So what's this actually about?"
"Can't I just be interested in the development of a future soldier?"
Levi snorts.
"Pretty ballsy to assume you'll still be alive when I get into the corps, old
man. And I hear that I should be worried about just which part of my
'development' you're taking an interest in." He looks like he expects Erwin to
deny all sexual interest.
“You needn’t be worried at all, Levi,” he says instead. “Naturally, I wouldn’t
let my attentions inconvenience you.”
Levi squints at him, looking deeply suspicious.
“What are you offering?” His hand is near his knife. Erwin wonders if it’s
conscious.
“Personal attention,” he says. “The sort of mentoring relationship you will
have seen older boys getting into with their elders.”
“Fucking the superiors for favours.” Levi doesn’t put any particular unfamiliar
adolescent emphasis on the swearword. Not a nice boy.
“I like to think there’s more to it than that,” says Erwin, instead of taking
Levi up on his gutter mouth. “It was created as an institution to give cadets
older, more experienced mentors in the military. The older partner is supposed
to guide the younger’s moral and tactical education; the younger to be
accommodating.”
At the word ‘tactical’, Levi’s eyebrows had raised, just a little. Yes, Erwin
had thought that would be the hook. Here’s something Levi wants more than soft
clothes and fancy sweets.
“Keep talking, old man.”
“I think you’re clever and ambitious,” says Erwin bluntly. “I want to nurture
your obvious talent by lending my own expertise.”
“You’re nineteen.”
“And already an officer, with every expectation of being promoted within the
next year. My ultimate aim is to become commander of the Survey Corps.”
“And what do I have to do in return, to get this expertise?” At that, Erwin
knows he’s got him. Levi’s good, very good, but still unsophisticated. The way
children ought to be, perhaps.
“Indulge me. Be cooperative, pay attention to what I teach you, come sit on my
lap when I ask without making too much of a fuss.”
“And by ‘sit on my lap’, you mean…?” Levi raises his eyebrows suggestively. All
the other eleven year olds Erwin knows would be giggling and shy.
“For now, I do just mean ‘sit on my lap’. I may embrace or kiss you in private.
Other sexual favours may be negotiated at a later date, but won’t impact the
basics of our agreement.”
“What, like-” Levi stands up and walks around the table to Erwin, and, hands on
the arms of the chair, delicately lowers himself to straddle Erwin’s thighs, “-
this?”
“Yes, but I was actually thinking more like this.” Erwin gently pushes Levi out
of his lap, then pulls him back in sideways so his skinny bottom is on Erwin’s
thighs and his coltish legs are over the armrest. “This way we can both get
work done,” he explains.
Levi stares up at him for a long moment. Erwin contemplates the striations in
his sharp grey irises, and how his current expression makes him look
particularly feline.
“Fine,” Levi announces. “I’ll take it.”
Erwin finally gives in to the temptation to curl his arm around Levi’s narrow
waist and press his face into his hair. Levi is so small.
“I won’t give you reason to regret it,” he vows. Levi snorts, not unkindly, and
lets Erwin cuddle him.
Highly adaptable as ever, Levi takes to their new arrangement easily. They have
two hours together in the afternoon or evening, depending on when Kaney doesn’t
need Levi and Shadis doesn’t need Erwin. Erwin is in Sina for a few months
before his next expedition, and has been provided with quarters and workspace
in the MP headquarters. They have time.
“So basically,” says Levi one evening, near the end of their two hours, “the
problem is that we don’t actually know shit about Titans.”
“Beyond how to reliably kill them, very little,” Erwin admits. “They’re faster
and stronger than anything their size ought to be, and they appear to be less
active at night. They don’t appear vulnerable to starvation. Everything else is
pure speculation. As you can appreciate, they’re quite hard to study close-up.”
“Huh.” Levi leans back in his chair. “Seems to me like that’s what we need now:
a scientist who isn’t afraid to get their hands dirty.”
“If you find one, let me know,” says Erwin dryly.
“Will do,” says Levi. “Now stay there and I’ll hold up my end of the bargain.”
True to his word, he stands up and makes to seat himself upon Erwin’s lap, but
Erwin stops him.
“Like this,” he says, and tugs Levi forward by the hips to get him to straddle
Erwin’s thighs, like he’d done the first time. Levi is pliant, watching him
with deliberate disinterest, hands loosely curled in Erwin’s shirt.
Erwin catches Levi’s chin delicately in the fingers of his right hand, holding
him still so he can lean in and kiss him, soft and brief. Levi’s mouth is small
under his. He neither tenses up nor reciprocates: he just lets Erwin do what he
wants with him.
Erwin pulls back a few inches, eyes fixed on Levi’s. Recently, Erwin has
started chastely kissing him more often. He must know what it’s leading up to.
Erwin places his hands on Levi's thighs, where they rest heavily. He feels
Levi's small chest rise and fall against his; his thighs are solid but small
under Erwin's broad palms and long fingers. He leans in to kiss his darling boy
again.
Levi opens his mouth willingly when Erwin delicately, delicately licks his
bottom lip. Erwin is always very careful with Levi, who is so small next to
him. He doesn’t immediately stick his tongue in Levi’s mouth, just traces his
lips with it, touch light and teasing - he doesn’t want Levi to feel like his
face is being eaten. Levi’s fingers tighten in his shirt.
Right now, he could lift Levi up, seat him on the edge of the desk, pull down
those uniform trousers and take his sweet little prick into his mouth. Levi’s
not yet hit the hormonal surge of puberty, but Erwin remembers being younger,
long before he knew it was a sexual thing, masturbating just because it felt
good. He could bring Levi to a dry orgasm, make him shake.
He won’t, of course. It wouldn’t be good for him. He sucks on Levi’s lower lip
as he pulls away. Levi is just a little pink in the face, and that makes Erwin
want to kiss him again, thrust his tongue into his mouth and squeeze his round
bottom. He sits back instead.
"That's all for today," he says mildly. Levi clambers off his lap, throws him a
salute that's at least half sarcastic, and makes his exit. Erwin closes his
eyes and takes a few deep breaths to get himself back under control. His pulse
beats rapidly in his stomach. His body sings with desire for what it is denied.
He must be good. He is nineteen, almost twenty, and an officer in the Garrison.
He has trained himself to have extraordinary self-control. He must be good.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry, everyone who subscribed: as you've realised, I'm not a quick
     writer at all! Think of it as an irregular but hopefully delightful
     treat?
Kaney has an assignment; Erwin doesn't know where. He takes Levi with him.
Erwin doesn't like to admit it, but he spends much of the first week doing
paperwork, exercising and daydreaming about Levi. His birthday is 'some time in
July', and Erwin has a hunch that they won't be able to celebrate it together.
He sits in his chair of an afternoon to take tea and consider strategy, and
misses the warm weight of Levi's bony arse in his lap.
Thierry, one of his age-mates from training, catches him on his way back from a
meeting with his superiors about the forthcoming expedition and invites him to
the pub with some of their mutual friends. Erwin goes: he's in the mood to
chat, and Thierry has always been a good conversationalist.
The pub is one frequented by garrison members; a group of junior officers
receives no curiosity. Erwin slides into a seat next to Nile and has his
shoulder briefly clutched in a firm grip. The faces round the table are
familiar, and he settles down to the serious business of beer and gossip.
Nile, he discovers, is in love. Again.
"How do you become so intensely passionate about these women when you barely
speak to them?" asks Hertz, despairing. "Do you even know her name?"
"Marie has the eyes of a doe and the mouth of a carved saint," says Nile, with
dignity. "And she complimented my tie." They all laugh, but Erwin notices how
happy Nile looks, not lovelorn as when he laments his usual object of passion.
Maybe this is the one at last. Erwin's never met another man who so desperately
wanted a wife and children.
Hertz, when pressed about her love life in turn, is eager to share.
"Prettiest little thing I ever did see come out of basic," she says, taking a
swig of beer.
"'Little'," Nile snorts. "She'd make two of you!"
"Dainty, she is not," Hertz concedes. "But you know I like 'em big and strong
and buxom. Fifteen, and a figure like a burlesque dancer. Statuesque, she is."
She raises her eyes to the ceiling in contemplation of the absent girl's most
attractive attributes.
"Does she like you, d'you think?" asks Frieda, quiet and watchful. She has a
long-time sweetheart in the Military Police; since she's safe there too, Erwin
sometimes wonders when they're going to get married and if she'll think to
mention it to her friends when they do. Frieda sometimes has to be reminded of
such social niceties.
"Mm, can't tell yet. She keeps coming to me, though, so I live in hope that
it's not just her sweet nature that makes her put up with me sitting snuggled
up next to her when we have a friendly chat. She's a good addition to the
Garrison."
"And how about you, Erwin?" asks Nile, catching his eye. "I know you're working
like the Devil himself to get that promotion, but haven't you left any time for
play?"
"He's been busy training up a new little protege, so I hear," says Hertz, eyes
glinting over the rim of her beer stein. "The boy Kaney brought with him, you
know."
"If he's already Kaney's protege, doesn't that cause a...conflict of interest?"
Frieda fixes her gaze on him with customary intensity. Someone she had known
had been killed by 'Kaney the Ripper'; a cousin, Erwin thinks.
"Thus far, Kaney has seemed remarkably unconcerned by the idea. Of course, he
tends to give Levi plenty of free time, and I don't interfere with his training
schedule, merely supplement it." Erwin takes a sip. "In fact, they're both
currently out of the capital: Kaney seems to feel that Levi will learn best by
doing."
"That's a very fond little smile, Erwin," says Nile, amused. Erwin hadn't
noticed.
Missing your boytoy?" asks Hertz, teasingly.
"Deeply," sighs Erwin, affecting a lovelorn expression. "It's those long
eyelashes, you know."
A chuckle goes round the table. They don't take it seriously: why should they?
Levi is only eleven going on twelve, only a child, not yet ripe for fucking.
Erwin wants him so badly he aches.
"You really think he's going to be something, huh?" asks Thierry.
"I think he has a great deal of potential," says Erwin, fiddling with his
stein. "He's extremely clever, and he's extremely tough." Preternaturally so,
really. Sometimes, Erwin wonders about his exact limits.
"S'pose growing up with Kaney will do that to you," says Hertz sagely. Everyone
mumbles agreement: Kaney's stint as 'Kaney the Ripper' has been neither
forgiven nor forgotten.
At this moment Mike comes into the pub, ducking his head to fit under the
lintel, and they wave him over with enthusiasm. The conversation turns to
interrogation about Mike's love life, all unsuccessful as usual, and then to
discussion of blade production and whether the current steel quality is better
or worse than it was last year. Erwin stops thinking about Levi for a while,
and is grateful. He's getting as bad as Nile.
Kaney returns in early August, not long before Erwin is due to leave on the
next Expedition outside the Walls. Levi has grown in the interim, though only
an inch. He shows no signs of childhood malnutrition, despite having lived in
the Underground; he's just small.
Erwin knows this because he checks. They have a week and a half before Erwin
leaves, and most of that time will be taken up with seemingly endless planning
meetings. They're implementing Erwin's suggestion for a new convoy plan. If it
works, fatalities should decrease by twenty percent or more; and Erwin should
be in line for promotion. He hates not rocking the boat until he's climbed
almost to the top of the greasy pole - or should that be mast? - but he learnt
in childhood how to play the long game.
"Hurry up, old man," says Levi, sauntering into his office the very afternoon
he returns, "I haven't had a cup of tea in a week." In his white shirt, blue
ribbon and dark shorts, he could be a spoilt little noble escaped from his
tutor for the afternoon.
Erwin rings for hot water. It arrives three minutes later, freshly boiled and
steaming, and in that time Erwin and Levi sit in their respective chairs and
stare at each other in silence. Erwin is checking Levi for evidence of what
he's been doing for the past month and a half: he has a small half-healed cut
at the corner of his mouth, as if from a punch, but otherwise he's just as he
left. He doesn't know what Levi's trying to find on him.
Erwin makes the tea. They sit in further silence, blowing on and eventually
drinking it. Erwin keeps noticing how Levi is dwarfed by his armchair; he
hadn't had time to fill it with extra cushions. Levi lounges in it like a
princeling, hooded eyes fixed on Erwin's figure. His thoughts are opaque. The
silence stretches between them. An invisible pressure wraps around Erwin,
tingling tension starting in his abdomen and spreading through his limbs to
make his skin feel too small.
Erwin makes to sip from his cup, and finds that it is empty. He puts the cup
back in its saucer and stands. He can feel his own heartbeat in his chest.
He shifts the table out of the way, carefully so as not to disturb the tea
tray, and steps forward into the space to stand in front of Levi. He takes the
teacup from Levi's fingers gently, finding it as he had expected - empty.
Slowly, he sinks to his knees before Levi.
Levi looks down at him with the expression of vague contempt that he seems to
give everything. Erwin knows it's only how his face falls, with its thin
pouting lips: he'll grow out of it. He takes up Levi's foot, balancing the heel
in his palm, supporting his knee with the other hand. Levi deliberately
relaxes.
With one hand, he works off Levi's loafer. Tenderly, he rolls down and pulls
off the sock to reveal a small white foot, blushed pink underneath. Levi lets
him.
Erwin presses a kiss to the top of Levi's foot. It's clean and faintly scented
with soap - knowing Levi, he bathed the moment he got back - with thick,
callused skin on the heel which rests securely in Erwin's cupped palm. Levi's
toes, with their freshly-trimmed nails, flex slightly. Toes, Erwin has
discovered, are a part of the body which it is immensely difficult to control.
Next, he kisses the knob of bone on the inside of the foot, the talus bone, so
vulnerable to fracture. Then slowly up the inside of Levi's leg, feeling the
smooth skin and downy hair under his lips, the smell of soap and sweat. No
rapid ghosting of kisses like an over-affectionate aunt or a teasing boyfriend:
he takes his time and makes Levi feel every gentle, open-mouthed kiss, Erwin's
mouth sucking briefly at his flesh, then releasing.
Up the calf to the bend of the knee: Erwin kisses the tendon there. The meat of
Levi's skinny thighs makes him want to bite, but he only presses more slow,
sweet kisses up the inside until the leg of Levi's shorts stops him.
Above him, Levi's breath comes more quickly than normal. Erwin pauses,
savouring the anticipation and tamping down the urge to tear the shorts off him
and get Levi's prick in his mouth.
Instead, he turns his attention to the other foot. Off come the shoe and sock;
up the downy calf, the muscle under his lips firmer than the usual twelve year
old's; the tenderest of kisses at the knee, just where he'd press to dislocate
the patella; and again up the thigh, now trembling just a little, to where the
hem of Levi's neat black shorts stops him.
He puts Levi's leg back down and takes hold of his spread knees. Levi doesn't
try to close them.
Erwin looks up at last. Levi is pink about the ears, biting the inside of his
cheek. He has an erection: the difference a few months make. Erwin imagines
leaning forward and burying his face in Levi's crotch like a dog.
He rolls Levi's socks back on, then helps him wriggle his feet back into the
loafers. His breathing is unsteady when Erwin strokes his calves. Erwin wants
very badly to kiss him, so he does: he balances himself with one hand on the
arm of the chair and takes Levi's face in the other.
Levi tilts his head, opens his mouth wide, and pushes his tongue against
Erwin's. Erwin's control nearly expires on the spot. He squeezes the arm of the
chair tightly and only teases Levi with little flicks of his tongue, until Levi
seizes his shoulders and makes as if to bring up his legs - at which point
Erwin gently pulls away, tugging his shirt free of Levi's fists.
He steps back and puts the table back in place, so if he does try to fling
himself at Levi in a fit of passion, he'll bang his shin and remember himself.
Levi is slumped in his chair, mouth red and wet from kissing, legs spread in a
way that draws attention to the erection pressing against the crotch of his
shorts. He's staring at Erwin, specifically at Erwin's crotch, where his raging
erection is obvious through his uniform trousers.
Erwin clears his throat and leans to one side to pick up Elements of Military
Strategy, Volume II. Levi narrows his eyes.
"That's not nice, old man," he says. Erwin only raises an eyebrow at him.
For a minute, Erwin thinks he's going to say something more; but then he just
sits up, legs still spread uncouthly, and looks pointedly at the book in
Erwin's hand. Erwin is proud that his hand doesn't shake, even though he's so
turned-on he can hardly see straight.
They discuss Schwarzhelm's example of an army on the march in foreign and
hostile territory and its obvious applications to their current situation. It
takes quarter of an hour for Erwin's aching erection to finally subside under
the weight of dry talk about supply lines; he doesn't know how long it takes
Levi because if he looks and finds that inviting bulge again even banging his
shin on the table might not save him from giving up the plan entirely and
ravishing him there and then.
Feral cat, he reminds himself, and when Levi comes to sit on his lap for a few
minutes at the end to be cuddled and kissed, he clasps his skinny thigh in one
hand but doesn't go any higher. Levi is at least kind enough not to wriggle.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Thought you'd seen the last of me? NEVER. Sorry about the wait: I had
     to finish my degree, which I think you'll agree is a pretty good
     excuse. Enjoy!
Gossip in the officers' mess tells Erwin that Kaney leaves a handful of days
later - but he doesn't take Levi with him. Erwin is deeply relieved: they don't
have long until he himself has to leave for the Annual Expedition. Shadis is
already at Wall Maria, making preparations and sending him brusque letters
every other day. Erwin keeps him abreast of developments and does his best to
requisition men and materiel for the Corps.
The woman in charge of the Corps' stables he discovers to seal her forthright
letters with a large blob of wax, and a design of such depth that the seal must
have been pressed into it with considerable force. He envisions her with a
hearty figure, a bluff masculine manner, and a regrettable affection for plaid
tweed: the sort of woman with whom Hertz would fall instantly in love.
Levi is beautifully behaved for their next several appointments. The hours they
spend together, hours of Erwin explaining military history and theory to this
clever, sharp-eyed boy in his lap, are his respite and his solace in a day of
contemplating the deaths, potential and certain, of any number of Survey Corps
members.
When he's tucked up in his bedroll, on the edge of uneasy sleep, he wants the
memory of these hours to keep him warm. The feeling of Levi's body tucked
against his, his bony shoulderblades under Erwin's hand, the feral calculation
in his long-lashed eyes. The lines of Levi's skinny body which promise
fragility but deliver whipcord toughness just below the fair skin. His little
mouth, opening to Erwin - so sweet for such a sharp tongue.
Erwin imagines him a hundred different ways, and masturbates twice daily. He
goes to bed wishing for the bed to dip a little next to him with a skinny
twelve-year-old's weight, warm in sleep and just the right size to wrap an arm
around. He plots out wild, improbable scenarios in which this could happen, all
of them contriving to have Levi push back the covers and get into bed with him.
Erwin would make love to him slowly; or he'd hold Levi close and they'd only
talk; and then they'd sleep the night through in each other's arms.
Erwin has no idea how he's going to get through the next three months. He can
only hope that the threat of becoming Titan food will focus his mind on the
task at hand.
They have their last session in Erwin's office, as always. It's little more
than a closet, but the windows are large but set high up on the wall, so nosy
parkers can't peek in. Erwin is a man who values his privacy.
Levi looks no different from usual: neat and scowling in shirt, shorts and tiny
cravat. When Erwin had first seen the cravat, he'd wondered about its origin.
Then Levi had dropped into his lap without being asked, and he'd put the
question aside. Erwin wants to do things with that cravat, though he can't
quite work out what.
Levi nods at him and goes straight to sprawl in the armchair on his mound of
cushions - really, one of these days somebody is going to realise that the
store of extra cushions for important guests has vanished, and come looking for
them. Erwin takes up the book, and they talk about the user of pincer movements
against Titans - the essence of which is that a Titan's size makes them
considerably less efficient than one might hope. Distraction at the front is a
better tactic, and in fact the usual tactic of the Corps since its formation -
assuming, of course, that one can sufficiently distract a sufficient number of
Titans without sacrificing a huge number of men.
It's not exactly an erotically stimulating topic, but Erwin's skin prickles
with banked desire. It used to be that Levi walked into a room and he felt a
little rush of fondness and a touch of sexual desire: these days, Levi's
entrance lights up the room and Erwin has to resist the urge to drag him off
and do unspeakable things to him.
Perhaps these coming months away will be good for him. Erwin had expected to
fall in love with Levi: he wouldn't have proposed their arrangement if he
hadn't. But he hadn't anticipated what falling in love would feel like.
He can't tell if Levi is feeling it too: the fidgeting might mean anything.
It's when Levi is still that he needs to be prepared.
The discussion of pincer movements trails off during a digression about the
speed of the Survey Corps' horses. Neither of them tries to start it up again.
Erwin keeps looking at Levi and Levi keeps staring back.
Carefully, Erwin moves the coffee table out of the way. Then he kneels on the
rug and, as before, removes Levi's shoes.
Levi grasps the arms of his chair and widens his legs. Erwin admires the bulge
of his little erection in his shorts. He could slip his fingers up one leg and
touch it.
Again, the small sweet kisses to the leg, stopping at the hem of the shorts.
The hair is still fine and downy, but muscle is developing underneath. Levi
breathes loudly through his nose as Erwin enjoys the salty taste of his skin.
He takes it slowly, savouring the lines of Levi's body under his hands and
mouth. When he gets above the knee he gives in to the temptation to bite, just
a little, at Levi's thighs. Levi makes a tiny hiccuping whimper, and Erwin's
cock throbs violently.
He eases off gently, stroking his hands down Levi's skinny legs, warming them.
Then, impetuously, he stretches a little further up and presses a wet, sucking
kiss to the tip of Levi's cock through his shorts.
Levi makes a throttled wailing noise and thrusts his hips forward. Erwin gently
pushes him back into his chair. He'll savour this all the campaign long. He'll
savour this until he dies.
Levi slumps in his chair, a little wet patch at the tip of his erection that
Erwin can't tear his eyes away from as he resettles himself in his own chair.
And then, in a move that Erwin would never have predicted, he undoes the button
on his shorts, yanks down the zip, and sticks his hand down his pants.
"If you're not going to finish it," he says breathlessly, hand working in his
shorts, "then I w-will."
"Fuck," says Erwin, quietly. Why hadn't he anticipated that Levi, when denied,
would simply find another way to get what he wanted? He squeezes his thighs,
digging his fingers hard into the flesh. He wishes he could squeeze Levi's
thighs; one hand would fit most of the way round. His fingernails would dig
into the flesh as into ripe fruit.
Levi leans back, hooks his legs over the arms of his chair, and masturbates
with his eyes flicking between Erwin's face and his crotch. Erwin could join
him, could pick him up, set him in his lap, and take his little prick in his
big hand and pull at it until he came.
Erwin gives in and squeezes his aching erection through his trousers, and sighs
at how good it feels. He closes his eyes.
"Show me," says Levi, his voice gone faint. "Show me w-what you're going to
shove up my a-ass." Did he learn that on the street, or is he just being crude?
He's stopped moving his hand: Erwin imagines his fingers squeezing his hard
cock, waiting for Erwin to take out his own.
"I don't have all day," Levi snaps. "Just take out your massive cock and let me
see it." He's squirming in his seat - Erwin can hear it.
Breathing hard through his nose, Erwin opens his trousers and takes out his
erection. When he opens his eyes, Levi's bug-eyed stare is tremendously
stimulating: it twitches in his hand, and Levi's mouth opens.
"Shit," he says, "I wasn't imagining it." He keeps looking at it as his hand
starts moving again. "Go on, then."
"If you show me yours." Erwin tries to make it light, but his voice is rough
and low. Levi, shameless as ever, gets up off the chair to yank his shorts and
underwear down and off over his shoes, then sprawls in it with his legs spread
in the same exhibitionist attitude as before.
His cock is - perfect. Small and pink, sticking straight up, hair at the base
just starting to come in; his testicles are still small and smooth and high.
Levi lets him get a good look, then starts stroking it again: two fingers and
thumb, firm and steady. Goal-oriented. Who taught him how to masturbate? When
did he learn?
Erwin pumps his cock slowly, rolling his hips just a little into each stroke,
chasing the sweet ache. He may have given in, but there's no need to rush.
Levi's eyes look unfocussed, but they don't close. He squirms restlessly on the
chair, making little circling, grinding motions into the seat. Erwin imagines
how sweet that would feel on his cock, with Levi in his lap, and strokes it
faster.
Levi's face keeps scrunching and relaxing with pleasure. Maybe he hasn't done
this often, Erwin thinks: maybe he's been waiting to show Erwin what he can do
now he's growing up. His little cock is growing pinker, red at the tip, and it
looks so suckable that Erwin's mouth waters.
Spreading his legs wider, Erwin gets into it properly. He watches Levi through
his eyelashes, admiring the way his skinny legs jerk when he touches the head
of his cock, how the muscles of his stomach, flattening into the lean lines of
a teenager, jump a little under the pale skin. He's smooth, unmarked: Erwin
wants to bite him, just a little. Maybe Levi would like being bitten: Erwin
does.
Erwin looks at Levi's red wet mouth, open and panting, and imagines those sharp
little teeth sinking into his flesh: his throat, his nipple, his thigh. Levi
has such a clever mouth.
He can tell when Levi is about to come, because his legs lock up and his eyes
roll back. He lets out a frightened little wail, jerks back and forth in his
seat - and then relaxes, shuddering. There's no ejaculate that Erwin sees, just
a wet shine on his little red cockhead.
He looks so delectably fucked-out, lying back on his mound of cushions with his
face flushed pink and his cock still hard that Erwin has to give in.
Without the coffee table between them, Erwin is able to slide out of his chair
and onto his knees more or less gracefully and crawl - ungracefully, there is
no elegant way to crawl - to kneel in front of Levi's.
He puts one hand on the bare, white, warm thigh, feeling the heartbeat in the
femoral artery. Then he leans in and takes Levi's sweet, wet little cock into
his mouth.
Levi jerks forward and nearly falls out of his chair: Erwin has to catch him by
the hips to keep him upright. He lets out a little cry as Erwin sucks on his
oversensitive cock while frantically stripping his own. He tastes clean and
salty and so good, so good on Erwin's long-denied tongue.
Erwin can take all of Levi's cock in his mouth easily, so he tries harder: he
takes a breath through his nose and opens his mouth wide, sticks out his tongue
- and laps at Levi's testicles in their fragile sac.
Levi makes a muffled high-pitched noise and shakes.
Encouraged, Erwin curls his tongue behind them and guides them gently into his
mouth.
Levi makes a tiny howling noise - Erwin looks up to find that he's stuffed his
fist into his mouth to stifle himself. His eyes are closed, his face is red,
and he's making little sobbing sounds as he shakes violently all over and comes
for a second time in Erwin's mouth. Erwin teases his tongue over his sensitive
cockhead until Levi is shoving at his shoulders to get him to pull off. There's
a hint of tears in his eyes.
Erwin comes so powerfully that his vision turns white and he feels his mouth
open in a silent moan. It washes over him, wracks him with pleasure for a long
minute, and leaves him wrung out on the floor at Levi's feet. He rests his head
on the seat between Levi's legs and feels his heart thundering in his chest.
A small hand settles, with unexpected gentleness, on his head. Erwin wants to
take it and kiss the fingers one by one, but even his hands are shaking, so he
settles for pressing a little kiss to the inside of Levi's white thigh, where
the skin is softest.
"My lovely boy," he murmurs. He hears Levi swallow.
Movement, bending, Levi's face looming over him - and then, wonder of wonders,
a tiny kiss, sweet and lingering, on his cheek just above his beardline.
Erwin turns his head to catch Levi's lips with his, and commits them to memory.
He's a realistic man: he knows that this may be the last chance he gets.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     Another chapter, another wait. This time, my excuse is that I got a
     job! Which is delightful, because I get to do stuff I enjoy and get
     paid for it, but it does take up a fair amount of my time and energy.
     See you in another few months?
Erwin survives. Thierry doesn't.
The mortality rate among Erwin's troops - five squads - drops to forty-five
percent. Erwin's innovation has lowered it beyond half for the first time. By
the standards of the Survey Corps, that's an unprecedented victory; it will win
Erwin a commendation and a promotion. Nobody celebrates. They ride through the
eastern gate of Wall Maria in grim silence. The people watch them pass and keep
their children out of sight.
Tomorrow night they'll drink and dance and celebrate still being alive when so
many of their comrades aren't, in the bellies of Titans or burned on the pyre
to save their corpses from scavengers and draw Titans away from the camp with
the savour of burning flesh. Tomorrow morning, Erwin will have to deliver his
report. But tonight they'll sleep without danger for the first time in months.
Erwin wakes up to find his clothes scattered in a trail from the door to the
bed. His boots have been kicked off to land in opposite corners of the room. He
doesn't remember anything after he handed his horse to an ostler at the gate of
the compound. He's slept in a strange position and his neck hurts when he tilts
his head to the left.
He gets out of bed, puts on a fresh uniform, and goes to make his report.
Commander Dorfmann and he already briefed each other the night before their
final ride home, but he still has to deliver his summary of his Team Leaders'
reports formally. He, Keith, Darius and the other five Squad Leaders stand in
Dorfmann's office at parade rest and wait their turn. Wenger is the most
senior, so he delivers the overall report first.
"Human casualties were sixty-seven percent. Horse casualties were thirty-two
percent - we benefit from the Titans' lack of interest in them. We have
established two fuelling stations, opening the way for further pushes beyond
the Walls." His moustache bristles as he speaks; Erwin watches it, fascinated.
He once told Erwin that he had grown it so it would be impossible for spies to
read his lips. Erwin can certainly think of no other reason for him to have
grown it, unless perhaps he wished to render himself immune to sexual advances
in perpetuity.
They go down the line, squads one to eight, each reporting casualty rates and
delivering brief reports for their squads. Sixty-five percent, seventy-two
percent, sixty-three percent, seventy-one percent...Erwin is sixth.
"Squad six had forty-five percent human casualties, twenty-nine percent horse."
This is not new information to anybody - the squad leaders regularly met and
discussed their running casualty tallies during the expedition - but it has
more impact here. Erwin's human casualty rate is twenty-two percent less than
the overall rate.
"I attribute our unusually low casualty rate to the new formation we developed
and used during the expedition." They all know that by 'we' he means 'I', but
it's not a bad thing to look modest. Wenger's eyebrows are now bristling along
with his moustache.
They pass along the line, but Erwin knows he's made his point. He tries not to
look too satisfied. It's still not as low as he'd like - a lot of soldiers are
still dead, including Thierry - but it's a drastic improvement, and Dorfmann
isn't stupid: he'll want the formation, Erwin's brainchild, implemented in all
squads in time for the next expedition. It takes the sting out of the fact that
they've not really discovered anything more about the Titans.
They're released in under an hour. Their direct superiors, the Sergeants, will
receive a more thorough grilling: Hellis is already loitering outside the door,
hands as usual in his pockets, looking like he wants a cigarette. They all nod
to him in passing.
Part of Erwin wants to crawl back into bed. After the adrenaline of an
expedition wears off, bone-deep tiredness sets in and makes almost every member
of the Corps want to sleep for days. He could, if he wanted: his week's leave
started the moment he left Dorfmann's office.
He does go back to his rooms, but not to sleep. He'll ring for tea and send for
Levi: their weekly lesson should fall on this day.
When he opens the door of his study, he finds that Levi has already come to
find him.
He means to say something like, "Good morning, Levi," as he strolls to the
chair opposite and rings for tea, then delect the appearance of his boy in
comfort.
"Darling," he says instead, dragging his palms down the sides of Levi's face,
down his thin neck, down his arms, then seizing his face in his hands once more
to pull him into a deep kiss. His own heartbeat is pounding his ears. Levi
looks the same as he did four months ago, sitting there in that chair with all
its cushions. He smells as he always does, soap and skin, that sweet
intoxicating boyish smell.
Levi's arms come up around his neck as he returns Erwin's kiss. Their mouths
are barely open, it's almost chaste but for the fervour they're both putting
into it, shoving their mouths together forcefully, clumsily. Erwin's hands drop
to Levi's skinny hips, Levi scrabbles at his back, and at last Erwin is so
carried away that he seizes Levi's lovely buttocks, one in each hand, and
sweeps him up to embrace him properly, crushing their bodies together.
Levi makes a muffled startled noise into their kiss, but doesn't bite, so Erwin
holds him in the air with one hand under his thighs and the other on his back,
feeling his lungs filling and emptying as he takes quick breaths through his
nose. He kisses Levi more softly, like he usually does, gentle sweet kisses
with undulating pressure, trying not to overwhelm his small mouth. Levi picks
it up quickly.
"Darling," he says again at last, mouth an inch from Levi's. He can't bear to
put him down just yet.
"Erwin," Levi mumbles. His breath sends tiny streams of warm air over Erwin's
lips. "I missed you." His arms tighten around Erwin's neck. "I didn't think I
would, but I did." He leans forward to press a chaste little kiss to the corner
of Erwin's lips. It's the sweetest, most affectionate thing he's ever done for
Erwin.
"I missed you too, very much," Erwin breathes. "I thought about you every
night." Levi to talk to, Levi to hold, a small warm body in his thin bedroll -
he'd wanted him so much he ached. He's twenty, and he'd never ached with desire
before, but he did then, wracked by the awful wrenching heart-sickness of
longing. Susskind, he had asked the stars, almost obliterated by tree branches,
did you ache like this for me?
He presses one last kiss to Levi's pink mouth, then reluctantly lowers him to
the floor. He's taller: he must have grown an inch in the time Erwin has been
gone.
"Now," he says, his voice deliberately steady, "I was about to ring for tea."
The hot water arrives within the minute: somebody else must have requested it
just before Erwin did. Levi stops him before he can pour it onto the tea
leaves.
"Let me," he says. His small hands are steady as he makes tea for them. "I bet
you've not had tea since you left."
"You're completely right," Erwin confesses, watching steam curl out of the
teapot's spout. "There's no time to miss it during the expedition, but I've
wanted a cup all morning."
"I didn't see you in the mess at breakfast. What, did the expedition tire you
out, old man?" Levi raises one sardonic eyebrow. Erwin loves him intensely.
"It did, as a matter of fact. I slept until twenty minutes before I had to make
my official report." He picks up a madeleine. "Which is why I ordered these."
He doesn't fancy the full cooked breakfast many of his fellows go in for their
first morning back - after months of watery porridge it just looks greasy, he
needs a day to adjust - but he's quite happy to reward himself with cake.
Levi allows him to take his first bite of madeleine, savouring the sweetness,
the fluffiness, the skill that went into making it. It's a perfectly ordinary
little cake, but after months of Corps food, it tastes like something that
should be served at the King's table.
"So how did it go?" he asks when Erwin's mouth is empty again.
"Oh, I see." Erwin takes a drink of tea. "You just want to pump me for
information!"
"Of course I do," says Levi dismissively. "So? You're revoltingly cheerful, and
I don't think it's just euphoria at being alive. I heard some pretty
interesting rumours about you in the mess this morning."
"Oh? Do go on." Erwin puts on a fatuous expression, widening his eyes
innocently. Levi scowls at him.
"See what you miss by not showing up to breakfast? But who are we kidding, you
know exactly what they said. Apparently your squad's casualty rate is down to
some ludicrously low number."
"Forty-five percent," Erwin confirms, taking another bite of madeleine.
Levi raises his eyebrows and whistles.
"Not bad, old man. The usual rate's two-thirds. I bet everyone was impressed."
He takes an unrefined gulp of his tea. "Of course, it's not really impressive
until it's below forty percent."
Erwin bursts out laughing.
"That's my ultimate goal," he says once he's recovered. Levi is staring at him
in astonishment. "But in order to achieve that, I fear we'll need to know a lot
more about the Titans. If we implement the current strategy for the entire
Corps, I estimate that casualty rates should be around twenty percent for
experienced soldiers and seventy for new recruits." He makes a face. "The first
mission always weeds out most of them, unfortunately. I want to do something to
improve retention rates - if even half of the new men survive their first
engagement with a Titan, that would make an enormous difference - but so far
there seems no way to predict what makes a solider more likely to survive." He
eats a contemplative madeleine. It's a problem that had vexed him almost as
soon as he'd joined the Corps, and he's no closer to solving it even now.
"Huh." Levi looks like he's thinking about the problem. The morning light
catches his light grey eyes attractively. Erwin wishes him luck in coming up
with a solution.
"Ah, Levi," he says affectionately. "I wish I could bring you with me."
"I bet you do." Levi leers at him. It's pretty good, if a bit odd on a twelve-
year old: he's no doubt picked it up from the Underground's finest.
"You know what I meant. Though I'm sure you'd keep me warm on those cold
nights..." He leers back. Levi looks like he's trying not to laugh.
"Dirty old man," he says, like one might say Sweetheart. "Anyway, you'll get
your wish. Not for a few years, though."
"A few...?" Erwin puts his teacup down. "Levi, are you trying to tell me that
you're signing up?"
"Yep. Twelve's the earliest they'll let you in. I'll be off in the spring."
"Levi, I..." For a moment, That's wonderful, I'm very proud, wars horribly with
Please don't leave. Then he marshals his emotions and thoughts, and says:
"Well, I'll miss you very much. You know I will." He licks his lips. "The Cadet
Corps is three years of gruelling work, but I think you'll be able to handle
it. The skill you'll have to fight to master is working with others. Everything
else should come naturally."
"And then I'll join the Survey Corps, and come and fight by your side." Levi
sits bolt upright, glowing with purpose. Erwin reaches out and takes his hands,
squeezing tightly.
"Yes," he says. They sit there for a long moment, hands clasped, contemplating
the future. Erwin imagines he can feel Levi's fervour seeping into him - his
hands are burning hot.
They break apart after a while. Erwin clears his throat and pours more tea.
"And what does Kenny think about this?" He doesn't know the enigmatic leader of
the Military Police well enough to predict his reaction. Levi just snorts.
"Who cares what Kenny thinks?" Levi slouches in his chair. "He hasn't told me
anything." He sounds as if he might be sulking.
"Nothing at all?" Erwin can hardly believe that Kenny the Ripper has no opinion
on Levi joining the most dangerous division of the military, even if it's only
'Good idea, kill as many Titans as you possibly can, there's a lad'.
"Nothing." Levi tilts his head. "Haven't you heard? He's gone."
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     I would like to dedicate this chapter to Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells
     (commenting under the pseudonym 'Sherlock221'), whose recent comment
     inspired me to bang out the 2K required for this chapter in two days
     through sheer contrarianism.
Erwin enjoys his three weeks of leave to their fullest. He puts aside the
question of Kenny early on: subtle enquiries get him nowhere, and it rapidly
becomes apparent that whoever knows the circumstances behind his disappearance
is both very senior and very good at keeping their mouth shut. So - "For the
first time in your life, probably," says Levi - he leaves it alone.
He still has plenty to occupy his time.
"Aren't you going home to visit your family?" Levi is lounging in his lap.
"It's what most people do."
"No, I'd rather stay here with you." Levi gives him a narrow-eyed look, as if
he suspects him of undue flattery with an eye to bribery. In fact, it's no more
than the truth. Erwin can visit his family any time he likes: he was brought up
in this region of the city, and the graveyard is only a few streets away.
Of Levi's family, he knows only this:
They are discussing the possible origin of the Titans. Levi favours the theory
that they're somehow sprung from the earth itself. Since the topic is a popular
one in the Training Corps barracks and in bars frequented by military
personnel, Erwin fills him in on some of the more plausible - and more amusing
- ideas he's heard.
"Mike was wondering whether Titans have mothers, and indeed whether somewhere
there's some great, monstrous Mother Titan, birthing them all out, or maybe
even several. It scarcely bears thinking about, but then Nile got very maudlin
imagining this hypothetical Mother Titan's feelings at losing all her children
- honestly, Levi, that man's the saddest drunk I've ever met - and I got quite
fed up and told him that it didn't matter even if there were this Mother Titan,
we can't go around not exterminating them because they've got a mother. We've
all got mothers! Or did, at least," he amends, and has a drink of his sherry.
"I used to have a mother," says Levi, unexpectedly. He's just on tea - not
because of any fear on Erwin's part of corrupting the youth, but because he
doesn't like the taste of alcohol. He even wrinkles his nose at the weak beer
given to kids.
"I would be very surprised if you didn't." You can't be too sentimental with
Levi, Erwin has found. He thinks you're trying to lull him into a false sense
of security.
"Mhm." Levi takes a neat sip of tea where he's perched in Erwin's lap, as
usual. Erwin can guess why he no longer has a mother - he's never seen life in
the Underground, but he's heard stories, and it's safe to assume that she's
either dead or as good as. But the bland, off-hand way in which Levi mentions
it is still slightly unnerving in a child of his age.
You always knew he was a strange one, Erwin, he tells himself, and cautiously
rests his palm on Levi's back. If he were a normal twelve-year-old, you
wouldn't be doing this with him.
"Kenny's her brother, in case you were wondering." Erwin had been. "So he's my
uncle, but I don't think we look much alike." Levi considers his teacup, the
tiny bubbles in the tea. "But I don't look much like her either." He looks at
Erwin's face as if trying to see the working of sinews beneath skin. "Do you
look like your parents?"
"I look somewhat like both of them, particularly in colouring, and I've noticed
in the past couple of years that my face is starting to look more like my
father's. But what was always remarkable to them was that I was the absolute
image of my maternal grandfather, my mother's father. She had a picture of him
as a young man in his Military Police uniform; I kept it, and the resemblance
is uncanny." Erwin strokes Levi's hair, combing it back from his face and
letting it fall again. It's sleek, like cat's fur.
"Hm." Levi resettles himself. "So what's Hertz's favourite theory?" And that's
that.
It's a nice way to spend his time off, but the question of Kenny's
disappearance still niggles at Erwin's mind. And the questions Levi asks about
the Titans, so many of which he can't answer...they need a scientist, he
realises. They need a whole team of scientists.
He's not yet in a position to do anything about the scientists, but he wants
answers about Kenny Ackerman. So he decides on the course of action he hopes
Levi will adopt in the coming years: he goes to see his mentor.
Herman Susskind lives quietly these days on the nice, leafy side of the canal
in Karanes district, in a fair-sized house with a garden and a paddock. As a
former Commander of the Survey Corps, he'd be entitled to residence within
Mitras, but instead he and his wife live here, in a district scarcely safer
than Trost.
"I like to keep the bastards where I can sense them," he likes to say. And so
he does.
Erwin goes round the side of the house and takes the stile over the fence into
the paddock. The horses, quite accustomed to him after so many visits, come
over looking interested.
"Nothing for you today, I'm afraid," Erwin says as two of them thoroughly sniff
and lip at his pockets and hands. He strokes their velvety muzzles and lets
them press against him, closing his eyes and breathing in their warm, horsey
smell. They're such elegant, fine-looking beasts, bred for speed. These are the
few that survived expeditions beyond the Walls during their prime years, and
are now kept for stud.
Erwin remembers the forceful seal-print of the Mistress of the Stables, and
wonders how Herman managed to inveigle her to let him keep them on his property
instead of with her. Knowing Herman, he may have simply stolen them in the dead
of night then refused to return them.
"Are you fondling my horses again, Erwin?" The horses abandon him in an instant
to hurry back to the fence and shove their heads insistently against their
owner instead. Shameless hussies.
"I think you'll find they were fondling me," he calls back at Herman, who's
leaning over the fence and happily rubbing his cheeks against those of the
horses. He always had an excellent rapport with animals, especially the horses
he rode in the Corps. Erwin takes a moment to enjoy the scene: a sunlit
paddock, beautiful horses, and a middle-aged man with a receding hairline
treating them like favoured nieces and nephews.
"It's true, it's true, they are all great flirts - especially when they think
you have food," Herman agrees jovially, waving him through the throng. "But
you, Erwin, are the greatest flirt of them all! Carrots for the horses, sugar
for the children, kisses for me...and of course a kiss for the hand of dear
Nina. You will excite her too much! It is not good for a woman of her age!"
Laughing, Erwin comes over and gives him a kiss. He had what must be his final
growth last year, and he now has to bend his head a little. Herman notices, of
course.
"Ah, I remember the days when I could pick you up and sit you on my lap for
kisses," he reminisces fondly.
"Herman, I could still sit on your lap," Erwin points out, trying not to laugh
at the mental image of all six feet plus of himself balanced precariously on
Herman's thighs. Herman doesn't restrain himself and instead laughs
uproariously, and affectionately slaps his shoulder. From the strength behind
it, he could probably still pick Erwin up, too.
"But come inside," he insists, "Nina and Johan have made biscuits, and it would
be so rude of us not to eat them and say how good they are." His hand on
Erwin's back affectionately guides him towards the house.
"Of course," says Erwin amiably, wondering how to insinuate that he needs to
talk to Herman at least briefly without his wife and children in the room.
"And then," says Herman, lowering his voice, "we will have our own catch-up,
eh?" He says this in the most lascivious tones imaginable, and caps it with a
filthy wink.
Of course. He shouldn't have worried. What might worry him is Herman's
insistence on camouflaging their true intentions so thoroughly - but Herman's
paranoia about 'loose lips' is well-documented. There's no reason to think that
the surveillance on the house is greater than usual.
True to Herman's word, there is indeed a batch of biscuits on the table. For
the first year, Nina always put her creations on a nice plate and tried to
spruce things up a bit. The first time she just plonked the baking tray down
and told them to dig in was the moment when Erwin felt he was truly accepted
into the family.
Erwin does indeed kiss Nina's hand ("As lovely as ever, Mrs. Susskind.") while
she pretends to swoon ("Erwin Smith, you devil!") and Herman laughs mightily
and Johan pretends to cover little Elise's eyes. There's a genuine gleam in her
eyes, though: Erwin is reliably informed that she was quite the tigress before
she settled down with Herman.
(He happens to know that she is, in fact, still quite the tigress when she gets
the opportunity - but that's a little more information than his incurably
gossipy friends need to know).
And so conversation goes on. Nina has a new hat and a funny story about the
shop assistant who sold it her, Herman has a wealth of new embarrassing stories
about the children, Johan has stories about his impossible or amazing
classmates (never any in between) and Elise says very little but gives the
impression of paying careful attention to everything said in front of her. For
a toddler, that's no mean feat. When Johan was that age he would have happily
made incomprehensible toddler-babble for as long as he was permitted.
At last, Nina considers her offspring with a critical eye and says:
"You two need to be washed." She stands up from the table. "Come on, Johan,
Elise. Your father and Erwin are going to smoke cigars and talk about supply
lines and other boring things."
"Nina, you wound me," says Herman amiably. "Supply lines are surely the most
exciting part of an expedition, no?"
"No, Daddy," says Johan firmly, and is obediently led off to the bath, trailing
Elise by the hand. Like most seven-year-olds, he's excited by the blood-and-
guts part of Titan-slaying, but despite his father's former profession, he
evinces surprisingly little interest in the military as a whole. At that age
Erwin would have begged to stay and listen to dry talk about logistics.
Erwin and Herman retire to the sofa in front of the fire, and Herman feeds the
flames with a couple of logs from the basket.
"We'll make it romantic, yes?" he says with a grin before coming to join Erwin.
Erwin notes two windows, one at the front of the house and one at the back.
From the way Herman positions them, he'd guess the watch will be at the front.
Of course, otherwise the horses would kick up a fuss.
So they cuddle up on the sofa. Herman presses loving kisses to Erwin's
cheekbone and nose, and Erwin wraps his arms around him. The whole thing is
powerfully reminiscent of the sweetest parts of Erwin's teenage years. They'd
broken it off when Erwin hit eighteen and was undeniably a man, of course, but
there's nothing very improper about sharing kisses still.
"Now, sweet," says Herman, taking the opportunity to lick his ear - Erwin has
to stifle a giggle, Herman knows he's ticklish there - "let's talk about what
you came for, hm?" He blows in Erwin's ear and Erwin does his best not to roll
them both off the sofa in giggles.
"Kenny," he murmurs in Herman's ear instead, pressing kisses to his jawline.
"He's gone, and nobody knows why."
"That is so," acknowledges Herman, pushing Erwin gently down onto his back,
which requires some rearranging on the sofa until their mouths are safely
hidden from view. "All sorts of rumours - and then, nothing. How strange, for
everyone to suddenly lose interest."
"Rumours?" Erwin goes limp underneath him and gives him a wide-eyed look that
Herman has always found hopelessly aphrodisiac. Herman smiles down at him
fondly. It's the look Erwin loves best on him; though it faces heavy
competition from his defiant open-mouthed roar on the battlefield, smeared with
Titan blood.
"Fantasist gossip." He licks Erwin's neck. "But I can tell you one thing, the
only thing I am sure of: he won't be back."
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     In my defence, I am doing a full-time job and a postgraduate degree
     at the same time. Enjoy this Christmas treat - and I hope to have
     another one for you before work starts once more...
And that's that: Herman either knows no details or has become so adroit at
masking his thoughts that even Erwin can't see through him.
"All I have heard," he says, "is that he is going far, far away. And that he
will not be coming back."
Selfishly, Erwin hopes that's true. He trades affectionate kisses with Herman,
wrapping his arms around his mentor's neck and scratching his nails though his
thinning hair. He feels like a teenager again.
"Now," says Herman once they're nestled up together peacefully, legs tangled,
"you will tell me about this Levi, yes? Kenny's protégé, the one you spend so
much time with - oh yes, I know these things. They tell me he means to go into
the Corps?"
Or course Herman knows about that. Erwin should never have doubted.
"He has the greatest potential of any cadet I've seen. He's exceptionally
strong and agile for his age, despite being so small, but what really marks him
out is his character." Erwin curls his toes in excitement. "He grew up in the
Underground, and I tell you, it's not like speaking with a twelve year old at
all."
"Apart from the obvious," says Herman drily.
"He's extraordinary," Erwin insists, digging his fingers into Herman's back.
"I don't doubt it. I have heard these things, and I trust your judgement. But
we both know that you like your fruit a little underripe, Erwin."
"I'll take him as my boy officially when he enters the Corps." His heart thrums
with desire. Levi will be thirteen then, old enough to become a solider and to
take a lover.
"I shan't ask what's been happening unofficially." Herman's great hand strokes
Erwin's hair. "Ah, my Erwin, I worry. You are clever, very clever, and so brave
- but too much underripe fruit can make a man very sick."
~*~*~
Erwin thinks about Herman's warning all the way home, letting his pony wend her
way through the dark streets, avoiding the infrequent streetlights. It's a long
journey from Karanes to Mitras, a couple of hours' walk, and Erwin was glad to
accept the mount Herman pressed on him. Alba isn't a former Corps mount: she's
actually the family pony on whom the children learnt to ride and Nina takes to
visit friends. Still, she's not the stereotypical plodder. Herman's keen eye
for horseflesh found a pony with the strength to carry two children but the
elegant carriage of a lady's mount, and although she's small for Erwin's long
legs, she bears his weight without trouble.
It's not illegal to make love to boys of twelve and up, provided that it isn't
by force. Herman's remark alluded to the social implications, not the legal
ones. A reputation as a man of specialised sexual tastes isn't one he wishes to
cultivate, particularly at this stage in his career. A predilection for young
boys isn't the least acceptable peccadillo to have, but it's inappropriate if
not outright unacceptable, and just outre enough that the inevitable sniggers
and jokes in the barracks would harm his chances of advancement.
I must proceed carefully. Erwin identifies himself to a night-watchman and Alba
begins to pick her way through the cobbled streets of Mitras. Her steady gait
and sturdy, vital body beneath him are comforting. The sensation makes him
think of long days in the saddle with Herman riding ahead, and the way he sat
up a little straighter whenever he thought Herman might be looking at him. If
Herman came back to the Corps, he'd probably still do it. It was why the custom
of pederasty was introduced to the Corps in the first place: wanting to make
somebody else proud is the most powerful motivator he knows. Even better than
revenge.
One day, Levi will make him very proud. Erwin's head feels hot when he
contemplates Levi joining the Training Corps, as if he's feeling too many
emotions at once and the machinery can't keep up. Levi was made for the Survey
Corps. He was made to be Erwin's right-hand man.
But first, he'll spend three years in the Training Corps. He'll get six weeks
of leave each year. Perfectly reasonable for a recruit - but Erwin will miss
having Levi around all the time.
He's become far too attached. He's so infatuated, it's dangerous. He's had
pashes on boys before, of course he has, when he was a boy himself and then as
he got older and the boys didn't. When he was fifteen he'd been passionately in
love with little ten-year-old Matthias, who had been all too happy to bask in
an older boy's attention. He still remembers the first time they went swimming
together and Matthias stripped off all his clothes, baring his body to Erwin's
eager gaze. He also remembers the sweet kisses he'd received from Matthias'
little mouth after their play in the water, the two of them standing in the
middle of the river, soaking wet and clinging to each other.
He's seen Matthias lately, not so long before the latest expedition, completely
by chance in a bar on the other side of Mitras. He's still sweet-natured,
conventionally good-looking and not exceptionally bright - and, at fifteen,
developing the first dark hairs of a moustache on his upper lip and the corners
of his mouth. He was with a girl, but looked up at Erwin through his lashes as
if to imply that he wouldn't mind a couple of kisses. Alas, the glimpse of that
first growth had ensured that Erwin would never kiss him again.
But now Erwin is thinking that maybe he will still want to kiss Levi when the
peach fuzz on his face thickens. Though only if he keeps himself clean-shaven.
Herman had once grown a moustache for a month, and Erwin had flatly refused to
let that bristly mouth anywhere near any part of his anatomy until he'd shaved
it off.
But that's still a few years off - Levi is only just beginning to reach sexual
maturity. The hair on his legs is still downy, his genitals still small and
neat. An erotic thrill races through Erwin at the mental image of Levi without
his clothes - something he has still not yet seen.
Well, that's easily fixed. Before Levi leaves in the spring, Erwin will carry
him to his bedroom, slowly undress him, and take him to bed. Whether Levi will
let Erwin carry him anywhere is dubious; but it makes a pleasant fantasy.
It's only dinner time when Erwin arrives at the barracks, but the winter sun
set hours ago and the dark city is illuminated by flickering streetlamps and
the open doorways of bars and restaurants. He can feel the chill in the air
that means the weather is about to turn. The crowds get thicker as he wends his
way through Mitras, and Alba has to take a slower pace as the Survey Corps'
headquarters come into view.
He slides off her broad back and takes a moment to stroke her strong dapple-
grey neck. She rolls one eye and starts to nose at his pockets in the hope of
food. Erwin hands her off to an ostler instead, with instructions for her to be
returned only to Instructor Susskind or somebody sent by him.
"Erwin!" That's Hertz's voice. He turns to find her waving at him vigorously
while her other hand is occupied in stroking the muzzle of a small, sturdy -
one might even say rotund - pony, of the type used to bear children and pull
carts. Their stout bodies and thick coats make them ideally suited to tough
winter work over difficult terrain, like in the mines in the north of Wall
Rose. Hertz, Erwin knows, has a particular soft spot for them.
"Like velvet, that is," says Hertz with satisfaction. "Come on, let's go and
eat. Not in the mess, for heaven's sake, let's be civilised. Mike and Nile and
the rest want the Fox and Candle, so if you have any objections, lodge them now
so I can completely ignore them."
"No objections at all," says Erwin mildly, and lets himself be dragged off to
the café in question. He can hardly complain about the chance not to eat corps
food.
Nile, Mike and Frieda greet them with raised steins. Erwin has to duck his head
to keep from braining himself on the doorframe, but he raises his hand in
greeting as Hertz ploughs a path through the other patrons.
"The man of the hour!" says Nile when Erwin and Hertz reach their table. He
catches Erwin's eye and takes another draught. "Everybody's heard about your
report to Dorfmann, by the way. Even Pixis over at the Garrison is talking
about it."
"I am, of course, happy to serve the Military within and without the Walls,"
says Erwin with his best faux-modest oratorical inflection. Everybody sniggers,
and Mike throws a walnut at him. Erwin catches it before it can strike his
chest, and eats it with a wink.
"Erwin showing up the rest of us, as usual." Frieda leans back in her seat.
"There's even been murmurs in the Military Police. I shan't repeat what Nicolas
called you." Having met Frieda's fiancé, Erwin thinks he can guess the gist if
not the exact words. The man uses 'fuck' and its derivatives like punctuation.
"So, where now?" asks Mike, from his shadowy corner - it looks like a
Corpsman's desire to cover all exits, but Erwin suspects that it has a
secondary purpose of giving him a decent excuse not to leave his seat to buy a
round. "How long until you're in senior command?"
"That is, of course, up to the discretion of my superiors." Erwin accepts the
stein that Hertz presses into his hand, having returned from her drinks-run. He
takes a drink to hide his self-satisfied smirk. "But I'm aiming to make squad
leader before I'm thirty."
Nile snorts. "Well, we all guessed that. You've always had the look of a man
with ambition, Erwin." Erwin's father had once said something similar - but
Erwin isn't going to mention that. He doesn't talk about his family except to
let it be known that they're deceased, and his friends have the basic sense of
propriety not to ask. He takes another drink instead.
"Speaking of ambitions, Nile, when are you going to get married?" Hertz breaks
in. Nile goes instantly, delicately pink. Erwin's possible ambitions are
promptly forgotten in the uproar.
Hours later, enjoying the temporary lack of military curfew, they all return to
the barracks in a crowd, affectionately jostling each other over the rain-slick
cobbles. Erwin and Mike split off from the other three to head to the Corps
building with an amiable wave. Hertz and Frieda are leaning into each other in
a way that suggests that Hertz might be getting an invite to Frieda and
Nicolas' bed tonight - again. There really are so few true secrets among their
friends; it's a wonder that Erwin has managed to keep his dealings with Levi
quiet for so long.
"Do you and Levi think you're being discreet?" Mike asks. Erwin nearly loses
his balance on the threshold.
"Levi and I...?" he repeats in as normal a tone as he can muster.
"The lessons, the tutoring. You training him up, playing the long game." Erwin
feels like he could faint with relief. "Squad leader by thirty, no doubt - and
he'll be right by your side." Mike's voice is only a murmur as they pass down
the corridor towards the barracks, almost lost under the tread of their boots.
"And when you aim higher than squad leader, he'll be right there to back you
up."
"And how about you?" Erwin breathes. "In fifteen, twenty years - where will you
be?"
He looks at Mike and finds a faint smile on his friend's face.
"In the grave or a Titan's belly, most likely. But if the wastes outside the
Walls haven't claimed my body by then..." Mike squeezes his arm and they come
to a halt. They've reached the turnoff for Mike's corridor. Erwin hadn't even
noticed. "...Then I'll be where I am now. Right beside you."
Still smiling, Mike lets go of his arm, puts his hands casually in his pockets,
and slouches off down his corridor. Erwin smiles at his retreating back in
return. The dim glow of tiny oil-lamps makes the shadows dance and twist, but
he watches Mike until he turns the corner. Then Erwin heads for his own bed.
He finds his door ajar. Light seeps through the crack. It's not the Military
Police's style, nor that of any of his superiors. For one heart-stopping
moment, he thinks it's Kenny Ackerman. He checks the knife in his boot and
takes hold of the one up his sleeve - and pushes open the door.
And then he feels a complete fool, because Levi is sitting on his bed.
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