Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1739495.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Levi/Eren_Yeager, Armin_Arlert/Eren_Yeager
  Additional Tags:
      Neighbors, Vouyerism, Porn_With_Plot, Angst, Alternate_Universe_-_Modern
      Setting, Young_Levi_(Shingeki_no_Kyojin), tfw_armin_is_the_only_decent
      human_being, Dubious_Consent
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-06 Updated: 2016-03-19 Chapters: 6/7 Words: 15794
****** seven days of eren jaeger ******
by fishstick
Summary
     The road to love is paved with masturbation.
***** day one *****
 
Pretty eyes.
It's his first thought upon seeing the boy next door, hauling ass and crates
through the small, rickety doorway of his new home. Levi has a great seat for
viewing; his window is half a yard from the neighboring house, from the broken
blinds that the boy seems to either not notice or ignore.
The movers help him shoulder cardboard box after box inside, muscles glistening
with sweat in the sunlight. He's sweaty, too, and probably just as rank, but
somehow the perspiration manages to give him this Olympian-bronze sheen, like
his skin's been drenched in cheap glitter perfume. Decked out in a floppy
sunhat - which somehow manages to look good on him - and a pair of slim jean
capris with a belt slung loose around his hips. A faded pink shirt to reflect
the sun, forming a naked V around his neck.
He's pretty.
Definitely pretty.
And his eyes.His eyes are emerald green. They stand out like gemstones against
the rusty chainlink backdrop, as Levi watches him crush cigarette butts under
his bare feet and sidestep glass shards with idiotic self-abandon. Surely the
tar's red-hot, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all; he shouts back and
forth as he carries furniture inside, following and issuing commands, voice
reverberating down the long street. He flings his arms around the windowsill,
long, tan, and lithe, gulps down some fresh air and fans his face with a glossy
hand. And now he's tugging at the edge of his shirt, pulling it upwards until
it's all the way over his head, shrugging it off his shoulders, slinging it to
the side, stretching and-
Holy shit.
Levi backs away from his spot to avoid being noticed - not, however, before
committing the scene to memory. He doesn't know if he'll use it, or when, or
whether or not it should be utilized. It just kind of seems like the right
thing to do. 
 
-
 
Later that day, Levi is listening to the mean exchange of his mother in the
kitchen, barely muffled by his flimsy bedroom door. She's on the phone with
some other renter bitch, talking about their new neighbor; doesn't he look a
bit young to be living on his own like this? Oh, well, that's probably the
reason why he can't afford any better. Nothing but vitriol until he hears her
step outside, still sneering, and slam the screen shut behind her. Hurrying
over to the window, Levi sees heading down the sidewalk to introduce herself.
Green Eyes is lugging a series of chairs into the house when she taps him on
the shoulder, smiling, and he gingerly sets down his load. As per usual, Levi
observes the conversation from his window - it's Sunday, it's hot, she offers
to make him some lemonade and throws him a flirtatious wink. Ugh. He shakes his
head slightly and denies her, polite but brusque. When he smiles, it looks
forced and feral, and his teeth bare themselves in a grin that's all but
natural. It's painfully obvious that he prefers to be left alone.
Eventually, Green Eyes manages to shoo all the curious visitors away, the
outdoor children drawn in by the allure of a huge truck parked on the street
curb. Levi overhears his mother talking, once more, as she drinks in front of
the kitchen TV - "just turned nineteen," "college student," "probably swimming
in loans."
Most of what his mom talks about, while drinking, is stupid nonsense.
Oftentimes, she forgets he's listening, or that he's even there at all; she
stumbles over finances, welfare, girl problems and other shit that kids
shouldn't hear from their parents. Every time. It's the same. And she never
mentions her son.
However, buried within all the usual antagonism and rancor, Levi manages to
pick up one special piece of information: "Eren Jaeger."
That's his name.
It's not Green Eyes anymore. It's Eren. Jaeger, which sounds German, and Eren,
which is every bit as svelte as the boy it refers to.
Because he has nothing better to do, Levi whispers the name to himself; over
and over again until it begins to lumber awkwardly on his lips. Once he can say
it no more, he transfers it to his mind - Eren Jaeger. It could be the moniker
of some starlet or spy, undercover as a humble college kid with a cute face and
a weird sense of fashion.
Eren.
Ridiculous. Even hisname is pretty.

-
 
He keeps his bedroom dark and silent, using the light of the moon to see into
the world on the other side. Eren is undressing, blissfully unaware of a pair
of pale eyes roving across his warm back, trailing the bend of his spine as he
rolls upwards, shimmering like a brown-skinned ghost. Heat swells in Levi's gut
when he sees the boy reach down to his fly, fingers wrapping around the zipper
and tugging once, twice, downwards. Eren pops the button, pushes the waistband
to his hips, shimmies out of his slacks and poises there, bathing in the silver
glow - completely nude except for a single slip of fabric hugging the curve of
his thighs.
For now, Levi contents himself to watch unseen, stomaching the dirty thrill. It
feels almost illegal - probably is - to stare as Eren lounges on his bed,
partially obscured by the broken blinds and shadows, with a lamp lit by his
side. A book in his hand, some pencils in the other - but Levi doesn't care
what he's doing as long as he doesn't turn off the light. He looks stronger in
the gloom, more muscular and mean. Lean, but bestial. Messy-haired and slender,
tapered at the ends. Dimpled coccyx and cruciform and million other words that
Levi doesn't want to think, or know.
Once he's done studying, Eren swings his legs off the bed, does some crunches,
a couple push-ups (all unclothed), and grabs a cellphone off the top of his
dresser. He punches a number in, brings the screen to his ear, and executes a
series of squats while he waits for an answer. Slightly bored, slightly
curious, Levi watches his ass clench up and down, wondering if it's really as
supple as it seems.
Eren stops. He smiles, and it's genuine this time. His lips form a greeting. He
steps closer to the window, and Levi shies away, making sure that he remains
shrouded in darkness.
He can't read every one of the boy's words, especially in this meager light,
but Eren looks happy and isn't showing any signs of sleeping soon (or maybe
masturbating). So, with a twinge of disappointment, Levi falls back onto his
bed, crawls under the covers, and muffles his face in the pillow. He's tingling
all over, but he ignores the sensation; maybe he's low, but he's not dirty.
Some snarky part of his brain snorts at that. Yeah, right. Come tomorrow...
But so what?
He deflects the guilt. After all, it's only a sin if God is watching. And if
God is watching, that makes him just as much of a pervert as Levi.
***** day two *****
 
And that's how Levi finds himself with his hand down his pants on a warm Monday
night, all eyes on Green Eyes' ass.
It wasn't intentional.
Really, it wasn't.
It just kind of... happened. Once Eren slipped out of his underwear, Levi's
fingers slipped down to his crotch. And that was that.
He has to squint to see through the blinds, but the sight that greets him is so
worth it; apparently, Eren sleeps in the nude, and he's left his lamp on to
boot. With his legs spread like that, mouth slightly unhinged, it's not hard
for Levi to envision a tongue between those soft lips, a length between those
bronze thighs.
Not bad in the size department, either. Not bad at all. Enough to make Levi
yank down his zipper, spread himself a little farther apart, cup a small hand
around the growing heat in his boxers as he kneels at the window's edge.
Christ.
It's a waste of time to justify himself. He's breathing harder now; quick,
light pants as he palms the slow rise through the fabric. Levi can see himself
in the dusky, dusty mirror on his dresser drawers - it's cracked and ancient,
but the pale, slender boy within is undeniably him, with a pained look of
arousal that seems so out of place on his kid face. He knows he's young, even
by Eren's standards, but going by looks alone he's practically a baby; his
wrists are small enough to touch a thumb and forefinger around, and his body is
all tight skin over lean muscle, sharp bone.
He hates it. He hates it, so he doesn't dwell on it. He turns his thoughts back
to Eren once more, with a small, ragged gasp of pleasure as his hips jerk
forwards against the glass. He's really pushing it, he knows - if Eren wakes
up, if Eren sees him, his fap material is trashed and done for.
Levi places his other hand on the window, watching Eren's form fog up under the
heat of his breath, and his forehead soon follows suit. His fingers slip down
the pane as his back arches, ever-so-slightly, in his attempt to swallow the
moans that rise in his throat. Eren, Eren, Eren.If he thinks hard enough, he
can imagine that Eren is the one touching him, jerking his hand up and down his
shaft and murmuring the words into his ear - no, groaning,because maybe pretty
boys aren't always that pretty, and he likes the idea of Eren edging closer and
closer to the soft skin of his lobe and blowing fever onto flesh, running his
tongue along the rim, then biting down hard-
Hard.
Rock fucking solid.
He's getting too loud. He can hear his parents stirring in the room next to his
own, so he mashes his lip to stifle the sounds. The air is warm, but he's even
warmer; with the jolts of cold, electric heat running down the split of his
thighs, he can already feel the perspiration pooling on his brow. Now his hand
is Eren's tongue, wrapped around his dick, glued to the roof of his base -
grinding, hip-to-hip grinding, thrusting downwards as he collides with the
window once again. Fingers fly to his mouth while the others kindle fire in his
gut, and there's thick, bitter sex between his teeth but he can't keep himself
from clamping down harder. He tries to keep focused on Eren's body, but his
lashes are rebelling and his eyes won't stay open. If he closes them, if he
retreats to a world of fantasy, he can run his hands across the smooth ridges
of the Eren's stomach (he's already memorized exactly how they look) and feel
desired; his fist eclipsing with the thrum of blood in another's body,
pulsating in time to the beat of another's heart.
He grips tighter for traction, because things are getting gross. Come soaping
up his fingers, wet on his chin from the effort of holding back, and sweat
clamming up the folds of his shaky knees. Praise the lord.Maybe he's just pent-
up, maybe Eren's some sort of sex demon, maybe it's the awful excitement of
private gratification betwixt he and his forbidden fruit - but whatever it is,
it feels sodamn good. Unrighteously insatiable, insatiably irreverent, but it
makes him all the harder.
Levi has to pause for a few moments, fingers still suspended in the slick,
webby mess below, because he doesn't want to finish so soon. It's his only
complaint about the sensation - it goes too fast, fleets too quickly. Then
there's nothing left except damp boxers and a numb sense of loss, along with
the empty anticipation of tomorrow's orgasm.
Thankfully, Eren's still asleep. Disregarding the thread of drool glistening on
his cheek, he's a real angel of the night. Sad shit, though. Like the old
saying goes - every time you masturbate, an angel loses its wings.
Hiswings.
Levi's corrupting the fuck out of him, and he doesn't even know it. The image
of Eren, hurt and betrayed, red-faced and teary-eyed at the knowledge he's
being violated like this, draws a strident gasp from the darkhaired boy's
lungs. Power and control. Levi's the master, he's in charge; even if it's just
a delusion, the swell of dominance makes his legs sing with shivers. His other
hand finally finds its place near the head of his cock, and he's wringing with
one while he rubs with the other, shuddering, shoulders heaving. His lips
tighten, his chest contracts, the lust is like two walls on either side of him
- smothering, electrifying as the butterflies in his belly push ever outwards
and against.
Faster. Slower. Faster. He reigns in the feeling, savors it, then lets loose
once again. But it's getting harder to resist the tug towards paradise, and his
arms are pumping, hips smearing the framework with overflow. His spine goes
stiff as he concentrates all his energy into the rise, into the silhouette of
Eren, poised in the looking-mirror of Levi's reverie.
Closer. Faster-
His spine goes lax. One low, sibilant hiss as he lurches into the glass, riding
on the upwards rush.
That's it.
The surge is killer. For one single, solitary moment of ecstasy, his mind goes
blank and he's floating through nirvana, drowning in sex and glory. Then the
afterebb pulls him back down and he's panting, shell-shocked, grounded in the
sticky remnants of his climax.
Ugh.
It's a shitty end to a great experience. With a silent grunt of disgust, Levi
draws his hand out of his pants, slowly to avoid slathering come onto the
still-clean parts of his skin. Smells awful. With a face like curdled milk, he
wipes the jizz onto his boxers, flings his legs off the bay and hurries (as
quietly as possible) to the shower. Briefly, he considers tossing his underwear
in the garbage, but as he's standing in the froth and spray he reluctantly
decides that he can't afford to waste another pair.
By the time he's rinsed off and dry, the stench of sweat and semen has left his
body. He's fresh and flower-scented, but the remnant of a feeling still lurks
under his skin - something wet, dirty, malingering and lush. The water was
tepid, cold for cooling, but he's still burning up inside.
Monday night. Levi closes his eyes to the stars, with Eren's sleeping form
still seared to the back of his lids.
In Jesus' name, amen.
***** day three *****
 
He sits on the living room couch, confounded, as his mom's car coughs to life
outside.
A babysitter.
Why the fuck does he need a babysitter?
His mother usually has no qualms about leaving him alone for a day, or even
two. Most of the time, she just pretends like he doesn't exist. Not to mention,
he's twelve-and-a-half already - the half part signifying that he's well over
the age of needing adult supervision.
Ding, dong; the doorbell clangs its broken melody. He glowers, wills himself to
rise. Wills the ground to swallow whoever's fucking unfortunate enough to be
outside.
And it rings again. This time, it's followed by a resounding knock. After a few
more seconds, something that sounds like a leg slams against the glass - not
once, but three whole times. Loudly.
However, all his objections die in his throat when he slinks over to answer the
door, props it open, pops the latch, and sees the face staring back at him.
"Yo." His sunhat droops. "I'm your babysitter."
Mother of god.
Levi resists the urge to say "it's you" and instead gives the doorknob a sullen
twist, allowing Eren to step inside. He watches the boy take off his hat and
lean over, place it gingerly on the floor, eyeballing Levi all the way. He
stands back up, folds his hands across his chest, face set with a hardness
that's all but readable.
Levi bites back a hostile sneer. "What?"
Eren doesn't answer right away. After a few moments, though, he opens his mouth
to say that he's thirsty. He wants a drink.
This is weird as hell.
Levi shows him to the kitchen, helps him work the half-broken faucet (he has to
twist the hot water handle the other way, or else it doesn't run). He grabs a
cup out of a lower cabinet, half-heartedly tosses it to Eren, follows his
movements as he brings the rim to his lips and swallows.
It only takes him a couple of seconds to down the whole thing. He smacks the
cup on the counter and wipes his face, Adam's apple bobbing. Finally, he drags
his gaze back to Levi, and it's obvious that he's not quite sure what to say
now.
"So... um, you're Levi, right?"
His eyes are duller in the whetted light, shadowy like dense foliage. Still
green, though. Still emeralds. "Yeah."
Eren offers one of his unnatural, feral grins - and Levi's heart gives a
strange flutter at the sight. "I don't usually do this kind of thing, honestly,
but um... you're thirteen, right? I mean, I don't wanna treat you like a
toddler or anything, so-"
"Twelve and a half," Levi corrects him. "I don't need you here."
"Well... figures," Eren mumbles, looking slightly frazzled at the blatant
rejection. "I thought you looked too old for this, anyways."
Too old?
This time, it's nearly a heart attack, and the heat is so strong that he can
feel it all the way in his cheeks. Nobody's ever told him that he looks old.Old
for his age. To cover the blush, he scoffs at Eren and turns away. "I am."
After a bit of one-sided negotiation on Eren's part, they end up in front of
the TV, nestled awkwardly in the two bent-backed wood chairs that surround the
kitchen table. On the crackling screen, news reporters herald today's latest
shooting, last night's kidnapped baby-turned-organ-donor. The temperature is
hot as balls. The air is one-hundred-percent devoid of moisture. The slums are
slummy. Nothing that Levi doesn't already know, and nothing that he cares to
hear. Eventually, Eren turns the channel with a loud, obvious sigh of
resignation and a furtive glance to his side (which Levi pointedly ignores).
Without many other viable options, he settles on a black-and-white Western
about idiot cowboys, blonde girls and tomahawks.
He seems fairly engrossed by the time commercial breaks arrive. However, Levi's
already tuned it out, let his mind wander somewhere up in the clouds as he
contemplates the strange situation he's currently facing.
So. Green Eyes is his babysitter.
The bad part of this is that his dignity's now shot to shit. He has to bite his
tongue to keep from uttering the words he so desperately wants to say; I jacked
off to you last night, asshole.Though he'd love to see Eren's reaction to that
piece of information, his lust supersedes his sense of self-worth.
The good part, though, is that he gets Eren to himself for a whole day. A
whole, fucking day.It's not an ideal scenario, but he can use the situation to
his advantage. 
Feathers soar. War paint flies. Commercial breaks come and go. Credits roll,
soundtrack ends. His mind is still swimming with dirty things when he feels a
soft, solid tap on his shoulder. "Hey, Levi. Earth to Levi."
He swivels around to face Eren, keeping his gaze impassive. "What?"
"Why're you smiling?"
Levi blinks at him. It's nothing. Just thinking about your dick."I wasn't
smiling."
"Sure," Eren sighs, and stretches his arms upwards in a gesture of exaggerated
boredom. "Wanna go for a walk or something?"
A what?
"Nope," he states flatly. He makes a show of turning his head back to the TV
screen, feigning total interest in Zoloft disclaimers and side effects. 
"Why not? It's really nice and warm out there."
Levi swallows his desire to kick Eren under the table. "I said no."
"All right," the boy sighs, and shoots Levi a glance of subdued interest that
sends spiders crawling up his spine. "Then what else do you wanna do?"
There's really only one thing he feels like doing right now, but he doesn't
think that Green Eyes would appreciate being the answer. "Nothing."
"God," Eren scoffs. "You're just a fucking bundle of sunshine, huh?"
And now he really does kick Eren in the shin, with a bruising force that brings
the boy to the point of laughter. "Cute," Eren sniggers, grinning through the
pain. He leans down to nurse his ankle with a naked heel. After a few moments
of silent, masochistic relish, he sits back up and declares, "I'm going
outside. I can't stick around in here any longer."
And he doesn't. He gets up with a flick of the persperation on his brow, shoves
the chair away with his right leg. Levi watches him go, head out the front door
without a single look behind him, and he's not sure what makes him think it
would be a good idea to follow Eren outside, but - despite the heat that hits
him, the sweat and odium that bloom across his face the moment he steps foot on
the dirty porch - he doesn't budge. He stays.
Eren looks over at him, nonplussed. He's got a cigarette in his mouth, and for
the first time Levi notices the smell of nicotine that clings to him. "Wanna
smoke?"
"I quit," Levi says, secretly priding himself in the way he sounds so adultlike
when he says it.
"You quit? Jeez, but you're only thirteen!" Green Eyes kicks back in the chair
with a sunny laugh. "I was kidding, anyways."
"Twelveand a half," he grinds out. "And it's not like you have any right to
talk."
"True," Eren sighs. "It's been five whole years and I haven't tried to quit
once. So, good on you." He flicks the lighter lazily, watches the flame spark
and sputter a few times before he actually puts a cigarette to his lips and
takes a drag. He takes it out of his mouth, rolls it in his hand, watches it
burn with dull, introspective eyes.
"You smoke like a virgin," Levi comments idly, before he really realizes he's
said it.
"How the hell does a virgin smoke?" Eren snorts. His gaze snaps back to Levi.
"Pfft. Like you're not one."
"Nope," he sneers. "Not even close. Unlike you."
It's the truth, after all. And he's not just a non-virgin, he's a non-virgin
several times removed - though he only has one lover to speak of, a lover whose
last name was forgettable but whose first endures in memory. Erwin. A pervy old
man who looked for all the world like some star-spangled posterchild; blonde-
haired and blue-eyed with white teeth and a silver tongue. It unfolded like the
pages of a Nabokov book, except it was Levi who'd put the moves on him the
moment their gazes had eclipsed at the candy-store counter.
And it happened just like that. Then, one day, Erwin was gone. No more sex in
the ugly black Bentley. No more ice-cream sundaes. No more broken family
portraits, no more crying, no more sad-fucking. Nothing.
The memories make his stomach flutter. Then he catches himself, looks back to
Eren to see if the boy noticed his small, private moment of happiness.
Thankfully, though, Green Eyes is still twirling his cigarette, watching it
smoulder between a pair of long, warm fingers while he rocks back and forth in
the rickety chair.
"It's just revelation after revelation when it comes to you, isn't it," he
laughs. Finally, he places the filter between his teeth again and inhales, a
full five seconds before he tips his chin upwards and blows a puff of smoke
into the sweltering air.
He's got some weird kind of grace about him, even if he's just a little kid in
a big body. Whatever it is, it makes him fucking hard to ignore. Levi forgets
the word for it now; maybe charisma? Poise. That doesn't sound quite right,
though. It's too girly. He hasn't gone to school in a year. But, if he's not
staring at the dip in Eren's cupid bow, then he's thinking about it - Eren
makes it so hard to concentrate on anything butEren, because he's so... he's
like the glimmer in his eye or the way he carries himself when he walks.
Strong, a bit larger than life, totally self-aware, unassuming until you assume
him.
Well. Fuck.
"I'm gonna take a dump," Levi announces, before he can give himself any more of
a boner.
Eren shoots him a strange look. "Then go take a dump." He lifts the cigarette
to his lips again, grumbling. "Weirdo."
"I'm going," he snaps. He rises to his feet, slams the door in Eren's smoggy
face. Once he gets inside, he seizes the opportunity and strips down to the
very cotton of his boxers, letting the lukewarm air sweep over his bare skin.
The sweaty clothes end up somewhere on the kitchen floor, but he hardly gives a
second glance to where they land.
He spends about twenty whole minutes in the bathroom splashing cold water onto
his forehead, trying to cool himself off and increasingly regretting his
decision to join Eren on the porch. It's not like going for a walkor anything,
sure, but it's still muggy as hell out there and it's disgusting, and it's hard
to breathe and even just being near the sun makes his head light and his heart
pound.
He sits down on the toilet seat, then in the shower when he gets too
uncomfortable, then paces over to the mirror and stares in without really
seeing himself. Inhale, exhale, repeat. He grips the basin a bit harder, leans
back and shudders down an inhale. His mind is clear, he's thinking rationally,
but his nerves won't listen - his stomach fills with butterflies as he tries to
keep his knees from buckling, but it's getting harder and harder to swallow the
rising panic. And, all of the sudden, the room walls are too close around him,
the light is too bright, his temples are pounding; his chest constricts against
the overwhelming heat. He can feel the bile rise in his throat and he falls
onto all fours, doubles over the toilet just in time to have the remnants of
last night's meal spew out into the porcelain bowl.
After the last heave, Levi is finally brought back to his senses. His brain is
hammering against his skull, but the pain is all self-awareness now; he stares
in shock at the yellow-brown liquid, suspended in the murky toilet. It's mostly
stomach acid, and his tongue is bitter from the vomit. The aftertaste burns. He
cringes to his feet with a resplendent shiver, stumbles into the wall with eyes
still on the stringy fluid pooling at the water's edge.
Shit.
"Open up!" A fist is pounding on the bathroom door. "What the hell are you
doing in there?"
Holyshit.
He quickly flushes the toilet and rushes over to the sink. "Coming outside," he
calls back, over the sound of suds and sinkwater as he dumps soap all over his
hands. Lather and rinse. Lather and rinse. It's repulsive,disgusting-he can
feel his insides revolting again, already, and he suppresses the thoughts with
a shudder.
"How long does it take to wash your hands?"
An eternity wouldn't be enough, but he forces himself to shut off the water and
grab the towel. Once he's done, he opens the door, slowly, and steps into the
light. Sure enough, Eren's standing there, with the remainder of his twenty-
pack still crumpled in his hand and his brows furrowed in dark, dark confusion.
"On second thought, I'll have one," Levi mutters. When Eren doesn't respond
right away, he sneers and clarifies. "A cigarette."
Eren frowns at him suspiciously. "I'm not gonna give you a cigarette, Levi," he
sighs, enunciating the last syllable of his name with a heavy nicotine exhale.
"You're seriously too young."
Too young.
"Fine," he mumbles, and attempts to shove past Eren. His brain's calm now, but
his body can't seem to handle the quick movement - and, suddenly, Levi feels
his legs give out from underneath him and then he's tripping in slow-mo
clarity, falling over the shower mat as the heat waves wash over him and the
nausea swells again-
But he never hits the floor. He looks up, and instead of the ceiling he sees
Eren's stormy eyes, something akin to anger on his face, a slip of white bared
through barely-parted lips. "There's something on your chin," he murmurs, and
seconds too late Levi realizes that he forgot to wipe off all the puke.
Damn it.
"Let go of me," he mumbles.
Eren lets go of him.
They stare at each other for a few moments, before Eren reaches for his pack
with a growl of resignation. "Shit, just... just take it." He tosses Levi a
Camel, which the latter barely manages to snag between his fingers. "Need a
lighter?"
The thought rises, unbidden, to the front of Levi's mind, and he has to bite
his cheek to keep from blushing like an idiot. "No," he says, and slips the
cigarette into his mouth. Then he rises up, up onto the tips of his toes,
closes his eyes and breathes a deep, stable breath. The sick feeling in his gut
is enough to make him stumble a little as he steps nearer to Eren, because he
hasn't been this close to a person's lips since - since the last time he was
this close to an actual human being.
He presses a hand to his forehead to calm the sudden dizziness. And, with one
brisk movement, he leans into Eren's mouth (don't pass out, don't pass out) and
touches the tip of his cigarette to Eren's still-burning end. Inwardly, he
exalts when Green Eyes doesn't pull away, and he manages to hold steady for a
whole three seconds long enough to set his cigarette smoking.
And he backs off. Backs off, looks down. At Eren's chest. Anywhere but his
gross, pretty face.
"S-saves your lighter fluid."
Fuck. I fucking stuttered.
It's a flimsy explanation, and he's even flimsier. He wills himself to stay
steady, to relax and inhale despite how naked he's suddenly feeling.
"Weirdo," Eren says again, but this time it's barely above a whisper. He
doesn't move, hardly even seems to breathe. The vertigo rises within Levi once
more. He gulps, waiting for the final verdict from the tall boy overhead - but
only silence meets him.
Silence.
His temples feel like air. Weightless. His intestines roil.
Silence. Pounding silence. It's staggering, and the world's beginning to lose
its hard edge. Levi lifts up a wordless curse, a curse to the gods above, as he
falls gently forwards into a pair of arms - distant, faded - and the world goes
blurry-black around him.
***** day four *****
 
The following week is a good one. A greatone, really.
The moment he recovered from his quick fainting spell, Levi made Eren swear to
forget everything that had happened. He retrieved the Neosporin and did his
best to clean Green Eyes' battle wound, the one from whence his falling
cigarette had crescendoed through the air like a comet and landed gracefully on
that eternally-shoeless foot. Soon afterwards, everything returned to normal,
and they wound up in front of the TV again with Eren shooting nervous glances
at Levi every five minutes and the latter kicking him on the shin whenever he
dared to open his mouth.
After that, Levi sets a nightly routine. If Eren ever notices anything, he
doesn't let on - he reads textbooks, talks on the phone, doesn't come home
until the early hours of dawn. Levi stays up waiting for him, waiting for the
sound of footsteps and door slams, Killing Joke mixtapes and RATM CDs being
popped into the boombox as Eren slipps out of his clothing and gyrates his hips
to the jagged, spurling shred of guitars.
His movements are martini-smooth. He's not much of a dancer, but seduction
seems second-nature to him. He undresses so gracefully, like there's always an
audience; all eyes on him as he performs the cross-armed shirt pullover, the
pants-fall, the button-down.
Which isn't entirely wrong. He has an audience.
An audience of one.
It's even easier to jack off than it was a week ago. Levi has fuel now, he's
got something to go on; he knows the feeling of Eren's skin against his own,
the husky lilt of his voice when he laughs. The way his lips look up close, the
way he holds a cigarette between his teeth;his words, his stance, his warm,
supportive hands - everything.For the first time in ages, he has something to
look forwards to every night. He's got a way of keeping time that's not just
the countless rotations of sun and moon, the endless flurry of skies. By the
time Wednesday rolls around, he knows Bulls On Parade by heart. He's read the
title of every book on Eren's shelf ten times over. He's snuck into the fridge
and popped out the Rum Chata, done it half-drunk and spilling sloppy all over
his hands, legs, stomach.
But, most of all, he's... kind of happy.
It's not a bad life. It gets his mind off things better than a pill, a
nightmare, or his secret, dog-eared copy of Philosophy in the Bedroom (courtesy
of Mr. America). Torture porn's no good for the soul. Something about Eren,
though - something ridiculously, wordlessly attractive, something far beyond
the realms of physicality - keeps Levi going. It makes him look forwards to
waking up each day.
Still, he can't help but bide his time and wait for the bomb to drop. He's
lived just long enough to know that all good things must come to an end. The
fluttery feeling that Green Eyes gives him, spread out and stripped on the bed,
is pure transgression.
And God's just waiting for a chance to strike.
 
-
 
The moment he hears the other voice, he knows there's something wrong.
"Are you sure about the... the whole makeup thing? It's kind of overblown."
Whoever's talking, it's definitelynot Eren. The speaker is light; soft to his
heavy, smooth to his hoarse.
"Yeah, it's totally... uh, what's that word... kish-ee?" That's Eren, for sure.
His words are faint, growing stronger as Levi can hear him enter the bedroom
through the open door. "Like, you know-"
"Kitschy?" He can almost hear the eyebrow quirk in that tone. "Um, you call
that kitschy...?"
Green Eyes' head pops into view through the dirty, slacking blinds, followed
quickly by arms and a torso. For a few moments, it's hard to make out what he's
wearing in the darkness - but when the other boy reaches over, switches on the
lamp, he turns towards the window and Levi can see-
Oh.
My.
God.
Fucking Satan couldn't look that unholy if he tried.
Thigh-high nylons, like the kind you hear singers herald in sex ballads. A
petroleum-sleek garter belt with - fuck, is that latex? - underwear that's
hugging his crotch in the sluttiest way imaginable. A corset that stops halfway
up his chest, three industrial-grade belt buckles like an oil slick barring
their way to the tight skin beneath. His gaze gleams with something between
fuck meand fuck youand he's decked out in cheap black eyeshadow and even
cheaper black eyeliner, some brown-porcelain goth babydoll with hair twice as
messy as usual and Levi knows what's about to happen; it's only going to get
messier, but he can't will himself to look away just yet.
He's not just pretty. He's beautiful. Bondage ethereal. Shining like a black
vinyl star.
However, the other boy doesn't seem to be on quite on board yet. "Is this
supposed to be a joke? It's so... it's so..."
"Shitty? Fuck yeah, Armin, they'll dig it."
The moment that Armin steps into full view, a small sound of what-the-
hellescapes through Levi's thinned lips, and he almost loses it completely. If
he thought Eren was wild, well - this kid's like a fucking latex party. A
lollipop-pink latex party, actually, and his embarrassment is hilarious to
behold. His corset has bows, whistles and bells, his waist is silk and his
thighs are gartered with wedding lace and he's got the sweetest spun-gold angel
pubes that Levi's ever seen. He reminds Levi of a cat, for some reason; maybe
because it's not hard to envision him being lead around on a leash. His outfit
is revealing in all the places that Eren's isn't, and it's suddenly obvious how
perfectly oppositethey are, like they planned it out beforehand and went
shopping together at some kinky Kiki de Monteparnasse knockoff. All precious
and boyfriend-like.
It would be really cute if Levi didn't hate the idea so much.
They climb into a gorgeous tangle on Eren's bed, and Armin leans over to put
something on the nightstand that looks suspiciously like a recording device.
"Does my ass look okay?"
His assis right up in Eren's face. Levi sneers, and Green Eyes laughs. "Looks
great," he says, with a wicked smile. "Undress me?"
"Mhm," Armin murmurs absently. He sits back down, turns towards Eren, straddles
him with a look of mommy-like concentration. "Just the underwear?"
"Yeah." Eren lounges, stretches back as Armin's fingers crawl into his corset
gaps, feeling around for an entrance. Levi swallows roughly. The blonde boy
gives a few frustrated tugs before letting out some wordless sigh of
exasperation; Eren laughs at him, calls him a dork, and in one quick, irritated
movement Armin seizes him by the shoulders and flips him over onto his back.
Eren's laughter turns into a snarl, but still, he stays - he lets Armin hook
nails around the wetlook rubber and pull it down, down, down his legs, making
red streak-marks all the way from soft-skinned thigh to ankle. Eren gives a
strange little shudder when Armin leans into him, presses his hips closer and
slides the bondage panties off his feet.
"You're already hard," Armin observes dryly.
"Shaddup."
Then, Blondie whips out his dick - for lack of a better description - and backs
into the shadows for a moment, presses something on the recorder and grabs a
previously-unseen packet of lube off the shelf. With systematic accuracy, he
dips his fingers into the stuff and gently clambers on top of Eren, knocks
against him ever-so-slightly as he massages the vulnerable parts around and
near his crotch.
"Shhh," he soothes. "Spread."
Levi watches it all. Eren balks just to piss Armin off, making a show of his
reluctance. Lace-And-Garters puts his finger in, squirms around and gasps a
pretty little gasp when Eren purposefully rubs against his legs. Finger number
two has Green Eyes' face in the pillow, fabric snagged between his teeth. It's
hard to tell whether or not he's exaggerating. By finger number three, he's
making odd, wet little grunting noises, twisting his thighs and sending heat
pangs sparking straight down Levi's spine to his gut.
"Hurry," Eren pleads. It's weird to hear him beg.
Armin giggles - a light, musical sound that's more akin to mockery than
laughter. "So impatient."
A heavy nnghis all he gets in reply. Thankfully, Armin doesn't seem in the mood
to play sex-hooky; he lathers up, slides his fingers out and licks them one-by-
one with a ridiculous, tantalizing slowness. "Ready?"
"The fuck I am," Green Eyes snaps. He gives a half-rabid fling of his head, a
swivel of his hips to solidify the point. Armin giggles again, and places a
pair of steady hands on his ass.
The sound he makes when Armin enters him is unearthly. It's not really human,
almost demonic; kind of like the keening of a dying animal, starting in a low
moan and arching high, so high, climbing into the humid night air like Jacob's
Ladder and wrapping itself around Levi's cold shoulders, squeezing him hot from
head to head.
He looks downwards, away. It's so dark in his room, it's dark outside. The only
light shines on Eren's spread legs and Armin's zippered back, curving into Eren
as Eren curves into him. Each movement is like a snapshot in time, a freeze-
frame in the shadows. Nothing seems fluid. Jerky, unstable. Distorted.
It's like a bad acid trip, almost. But everything's much too real.
He can practically feel the blood rushing to his stomach.
I don't want to.
But his hips aren't listening.
"More,"he hears Eren hiss, far too loudly to ignore. "Shit, Armin - unf - don't
be a pussy!"
The slam of bedposts answers him, a high-pitched choke comes in reply.
Shoulders thumping against the headboard, more harsh commands - all sounds
dissolving into a soft, lyrical beat of sex and music and Levi cringing with
the pain of something he doesn't want to name.
He doesn't want to see what's happening. He really doesn't want to know. He
doesn't-
But he does.
He lifts his eyes to the window once more.
"I'm trying, but - you have to bend over farther, Eren," Armin says, as his
hands find a fistful of Eren's hair. He's somewhere between out and halfway
out, rolling his eyes like he's ten years old.
"I don't need your help," Eren groans, but that doesn't stop him from allowing
a small, slender hand to push his head further into the pillow, a pale set of
hips to thrust him farther apart. "Oh, God-"
Levi can see the blonde boy smiling softly, even through the shadows, with a
placidity that belies his sex-tousled locks. "Told you so," he murmurs, and
trails his hands along Eren's spine, watching his back arch with a half-moaned
giggle.
"Armin, stop fucking around!"
"But you're so ticklish," he protests, lightly, and adjusts his oncoming
attack.
"Yeah - nnh!" Eren grunts as Armin slams into him, driving him into the pillow.
"Tickle - tickle me with yourdick instead!"
"Ew," Armin laughs, and he leans in closer to Eren with a horrible, irksome
litheness, like he doesn't even realize how fucking lucky he is right now, like
he doesn't care and he can't even affordto.
And, before he knows it, Levi's pressing himself against the window, grinding
his hips into the glass as he watches the scene play out like an amateur sex
tape before him. His fingers claw for something that's not there, and the
desperation only makes him harder; everything he wants is just out of his
reach, but it's close enough to taunt him, turn him into a masochist because he
can't quite turn away. His hands find the wooden frame, and they cling tight as
his spine melds with the pane and his body melts into dismal desire. His jaw's
slightly unhinged, he's grasping because it's so perfectly unfulfilling - it
makes him even angrier, not having his hand down there, and now he's just
taunting himself with his own weakness and it makes him want to tear apart the
distance between their yards, those few feet of separation because - oh, god,
he's so needy, so pathetic-
He gasps out a moan of self-revulsion, watching Armin's hands go where his own
can't, and now his arousal is screaming out like an itch he can't scratch.
It's not jealousy. It's not like he cares.
It's not like he's even considering it right now. It's not like his fingers are
currently slipping under the cincture of his thin pajama pants, wrapping
themselves around his-
Shit.
He's so hard it hurts.
"C-christ," Eren pleads, roughly, and everything in his eyes is screaming more,
more, more.Armin sings like a fucking nightingale. His flaxen hair falls in
waves all over Eren, leaving dewdrops and teeth marks in its wake. He draws a
pattern of gentle, red-blue lovebites across the bare part of Eren's neck -
then, his right hand gives a sudden, affectionate squeeze that has Green Eyes
swearing obscene, huffing like a locomotor and rutting into Blondie's dick.
Levi's half-straddling the bay now, somewhere between the splits and bared-ass
doggystyle as his hands move anti-rhythm, foil to the boys fucking on the other
side - he picks up the slack of their silence, whenever they pause for tender
touches then he's sliding faster, faster, making wet sucking noises with
everything but his mouth. It's hard not to make noises. It's hard not to push
himself forwards, pitch into the window and imagine; feel, that it's not cold
and flat but warm and curved and big, surrounding him instead of holding him
hostage.
Fuck.
God must've been really pissed off at him this time.
I'm too young for this shit,he thinks dully as he spits hair out of his mouth,
dragging sweat-locked strands away from his forehead with a finger that's
already sticky as hell, and it smells like hell and he's sure he looks like
hell, too. There's that mirror again, and he has bags under his eyes from long
nights and lust, and he's young,so fucking young and the anger on his face is
awful to behold. Fucking come stains on his pants and something gross on the
windowframe that, god knows how, he managed to miss while cleaning-
Eren's praising Jesus now. His stripper sex-Cure clothes are liquid against his
skin, melting into his movements and drunken, red lipstick smearing the edges
of his mouth and Armin's cheeks and their intertwined fingers. Armin's got him
with his hands strung behind his back, holding him in a lover's handcuff and
supporting him with the width of his thighs as he thrusts, rears back, and that
last strong, body-quaking seizure tells Levi that he's finally done.
Eren follows in the next few seconds, in almost perfect synchronization. It's a
fucking bedroom hymnal then. Armin presses downwards, like he's trying to
swallow Eren with his hips. Hand meets hair, again, and they're falling
together in a heap, whispering and laughing and coating each other in jizz.
"Turn it off already," Armin says, muffled by Eren's chest in his face.
He kicks up, slings his legs over Armin's back and grumbles to himself. "Lazy,"
he snaps, but nevertheless flings a sloppy hand in the camera's approximate
direction, slamming around until he finds it. Then he subsides, collapses on to
the bed and spreads across, a youthful Lucifer filling the bedsheets with his
ungainly grace.
Hurry up, hurry up.Shit, it's hard for him to keep it up while he's trying to
keep down everything else. He's almost there, but he's not there, and he's
almost ready to burst.
Heavy breaths. "I want - I want-"
What is it?
He doesn't have a right. He doesn't have a right to anything about Eren. Not
his lips, his hips, his dick - and he knows it. He knows it; he doesn't even
have a right to jealousy.
But still, he can't help but feel betrayed.
Eren is his fantasy. Hiswet dream.
(And Armin's lover.)
He hates himself more and more with every thrust of his fingers. The wetness is
uncontrollable, inside and out, and he doesn't care how much he's hurting
himself anymore; he has to find that spot, nirvana, before he comes.
They're kissing now. And it's not just sex. It's intimate. They're making love.
Levi's committing a cardinal sin.
He shouldn't be watching this.
The camera's already off.
Despite himself, he can't bite back a giggle when he sees that Eren's hard
again,and he hears Armin making the same observation with an exasperated sigh.
Playfully, the latter brushes his fingers against the slit, comes up already
slick with clear fluid. Eren's light, lucid gasp draws a violent twitch from
Levi's cock. He grips it against his palm, once more, and tries not to fall
apart.
He knows he's close now, but his jerks are mechanical; his thighs shiver and
shake like a dysfunctional machine, and his breathing is punctuated with
irregular, ragged gasps. That hot space in between his legs is already
liquified, his hand's a mess and he's soaked all over but, even still, he can't
rouse himself enough to care. He thrusts his fingers in and out to the tempo of
his psyche, floating just beneath the surface in that small, sticky place
between the dirty stuff under the sheets and red-faced glory. Filled to the
brim with dull, overdue sex and heaven like he's already left the earth; the
only thing left in his line of vision is Eren, Armin stroking him into a sodden
puddle of vinyl and spit-drenched kisses and sporadic, sleepy animal thrusts.
And that's it.
That's it.
That's all it was.
It's everywhere and it's over. He sinks onto his hands, pins his arms between
both legs. Too mad, too bad, too maybe-sad to take them out and clean up just
yet. He needs to see what happens next.
Eren lets out a long, low hiss and it looks like he might be coming again
tonight, seconds after Levi, except Armin sighs in unison and pauses, takes his
hand off Green Eyes' hard-on and smears milky fingertips all over the bed. "I
have class tomorrow morning," he says, and it sounds like a casual apology.
Eren looks kind of disappointed, fuck him. "Oh... okay," he murmurs, and barely
even stirs from his tired position when Armin climbs off the sheets, leaving
some questionable wet marks in his wake. He preens himself, almost - cat-like,
dusting something invisible off his pretty princess PVC, grabs the camera off
its perch. "You keep the lube," he says, with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"I don't need it," Eren moans, flopping over onto his back, but Armin's already
shut the door behind him. After a minute or so, Levi sees the front door crack
open, and Blondie's in a black trenchcoat with matching, needle-heel
stilettoes, a come-hither gap of skin under his chin that's just enough to
allow a peek of his corset.
Stilettos.
Levi's mind is racing. Hooker? No, no. They were far too familiar. Plus, Armin
was recording. But maybe that's part of his job?
Whatever. It's not making him feel any better to try and solve the mystery.
He's fairly sure that he hears Eren making weird noises somewhere outside his
bedroom door, but he can't be quite sure. There's a suspicious gap, though,
between the time he exits his room and when the shower comes creaking into
life, but Levi can't bring himself to be disappointed that Eren didn't finish
himself somewhere within window view.
What was he hoping for, anyways?
What was he hoping Eren could give him?
Nothing. You're nothing.
He kicks the blanket off him with an angry, tearful sneer. The extra heat makes
him feel even dirtier, and if he wasn't some stupid, anxious freak he'd run
outside through the cool night air, run outside and scream away all the lust,
desire, the hellfire he can't control.
He doesn't even want Eren anymore. It's not his pretty eyes or his wide smile.
It's what he has.It's what he has, what Levi can only fantasize about. They're
both trapped. They're both surrounded from all sides, by the peeling streets
and gunshots and wilted bushes and brick walls, walls, walls fifty feet high.
But Eren's not really trapped.
Levi's the one who can't get out.
 
-
 
Farlan's whispers chase him into sleep that night. He hears bullets whistle in
the distance, maybe somewhere in the back of his mind. He closes his eyes still
horny, still hating himself like he did that day.
Nothing. You're nothing.
Blood. Blood and cum.
Those two words are his everything.
***** day five *****
Chapter Notes
     happy valentines day
 
Fourteen days.
Fourteen agonizing days.
Every time he tries to construct a vision of Eren in his mind, that moonlit
form he knows so well - it slips away like a dream, leaving his heart hungry
and his thighs lonely with desire.
He hasn't caught head nor tails of Green Eyes for two whole weeks, not since
that stint with Blondie. The car in front of his house still disappears
sometimes, comes back just in time for sunset (or, sometimes it doesn't), but
he always manages to escape through the front door without being seen.
Levi gets off without having anything to get off to. He's just touching himself
out of fucking boredom now, because there's nothing to do, and ever since Eren,
nothing else can make him cum.
He's tried, sorta-kinda. There was Erwin, once, and sometimes - in his ultimate
desperation - he tries to zero in on the memories.
Farlan had been so pissed when he heard about it all. He rode Levi's ass for a
week afterwards, called him a slut once or twice - but even Isabela could hear
the envy in his words. Unfortunately, Levi hadn't realized until it was too
late. The strange, little dynamic that he and Farlan perpetuated; bad words,
angry tears of overprotective spite - it was a teensy thing called love.
He knows he's disrespecting Farlan. He knows that already, but he can't help
it. There's no point in lying to himself now, it's a fucking problem, an
addiction - with a comedown worse than any he's ever known, because the
wrongness is so easy to deny until the deed is done. And it doesn't matter how
old you are, he's beginning to realize; it doesn't matter how old you are when
it happens. That first injection can come as early as childhood, just to steal
it all away. It sodomizes your innocence and leaves you starving, crazy,
hormonal for more.
In that way, he supposes, he has Erwin to thank. Erwin taught him the dangers
of the big Ess-Ee-Ex. Erwin taught him what daddy issues could do. Erwin used
protection before Levi really understood what it meant, or why.
If it had been Farlan, then god knows - he'd never have forgiven himself.
It's kind of wild to consider what he used to be, compared to what he is now.
And where he might be years in the future. Without Eren in the picture, he's
forced to see himself and himself alone for what he is.
Disgusting.
 
-
 
Music.
His heart soars.
He crosses his fingers, tentatively. Waiting. Listening.
"She said, c'mon baby... got a license for love," he's singing, and in the dark
his silhouette is dipping, spinning, and then the lamp comes on and he's there.
He's beautiful, and he's there.
Fuck.
He stars with button number one, and Levi gets the unnerving sensation that
Eren's staring right at him, though rationally he knows there's no way he could
be seen. Instinctively, he slinks backwards off the sill, veils himself in
shadow as Eren moves down to number two, three, and by six or seven it's
hanging off his shoulders and he lets it slide right off and drop to the floor.
The familiar warmth flashes through him like a lightning bolt, like a really
soft embrace-
Like a dagger.
He remembers Armin, and the spark dies hard within him.
Eren is shirtless now. And in three, two, one - pantless, too. In the icy
starlight he looks kind of almost eerie, and the silhouette of the blinds on
his back are dappling him with little snowflakes.
Suddenly, Levi feels very cold.
Green Eyes, bluish-gray in the night, falls onto his bed and lays there for a
few moments. Gazing up at the ceiling, his chest rises and falls in the motion
of a sigh that Levi can't quite hear. He looks almost forlorn, if that were a
look imaginable on him - but it's not. Eren is a great many things. But never
forlorn.
The expression on his face is alien. Levi has never seen it before. And he
can't quite interpret it, to the point where it's unnerving, and he's
considering passing up this precious opportunity because the wrongness of it
all, the sickness, the not-rightness,is finally getting to him and killing off
his desire.
He's about to slink back into bed, when - holy Christ.
Eren reaches for his dick, and a chill runs down the length of Levi's spine. It
doesn't take much thought to determine that he should promptly follow suit.
This is new.
With eagle eyes on Eren, Levi mimics his movements, only half-aware of what
he's doing and where Eren is shooting furtive glances every minute or so. His
concentration is only on the little-but-big things, like the way Eren keeps
pausing at the base of each stroke to shudder, the way he takes deep breaths to
steady himself and subdue the graceless tremors of his legs. His grip is
sloppy, his fingers go wherever his pleasure is the greatest. He's not
meticulous like Levi. Sometimes he struggles to keep quiet. Slowly, he sinks
into the sheets, and other hand thrusts itself outwards, searching, to find
stability. He pushes up against the wall. His knees curve into an upwards
tangle, and his feet mix themselves with the bedcover.
Each movement enters Levi's line of vision like a disjointed still. They
reflect upon his retina, but never quite makes their journey down the optic
nerve; they bypass his brain and go straight to the place that fuels his fire.
Vaguely, he knocks against the glass - shit.Just once, but it's a big mistake.
Thankfully, Eren doesn't seem to notice. There's a little wet spot forming in
the valley between his thighs. Gross. Levi wonders to himself. Does he ever
wash his sheets?
He doesn't question why Eren's doing what he's doing. He can't allow himself to
do that.
They keep going like that - Levi consciously imitating Eren, methodical but
improvised, and Eren in his own, secluded world of warmth. Slowly, Levi's eyes
seal shut, to aid in the climax. Across the expanse of darkness, he can still
hear what Eren's doing, occasionally whispering; little prayers to himself, his
penis, and heaven. The shortwave frequencies crackle between them, connecting
them, with static and silence.
He loses track of time. It only seems like a few seconds, but his ears tell him
he lasted much longer by the time his thighs release their tension. He opens
his eyes. He blinks the daze out of them, and tries to spot where his mess has
gone.
"Hey, Levi?"
Levi freezes. His heart stops.
"You done yet?"
Eren.Eren's speaking to him. Addressing him. Through the window. Like he knows-
"Hurry the fuck up. I gotta talk to you."
Shit.
Levi nearly falls off the window bay in shock, but he manages to recollect
himself last-second and fling out a hand behind him for support. He's slicking
up the wood with cum but right now that's the least of his worries; he can
think about that later, because right now Eren's staring straight at him,
searching for him through the blinds, quirking his head to the side and
narrowing his eyebrows like he's a little kid playing I-Spy with the creep next
door.
His mouth is dryer than the desert when he opens it to speak, and he knows it's
probably a terrible idea to respond, but something drives him to do it.
Something pushes him to answer.
"What?"
"Oh, good, you're still there," Eren says, and Levi can see him gush with
relief. "Can you open your blinds?"
Fuck, fuck, fuck.He's swearing under his breath at a million words per minute,
mind racing like a German torpedo boat. The more he tries to puzzle his way out
of the situation, the deeper he's engulfed in futility. There's nowhere to turn
now. If he hadn't said anything, then maybe - but Eren knows he's there, and
he's probably been there for minutes, waiting, and that means he must've heard
everything-
Damn it.
I should've stopped while I had the chance.
Sullenly, Levi complies, tugging on the window thread until the blinds are up,
and he's suddenly face-to-face with a sweaty, sex-haired college boy glistening
like morning dew at night.
And grinning. Sheepishly, but still grinning. Then, his gaze falls on Levi and
he gives a strange, little jerk of his shoulders, turning away with flush.
"Ah - uh! Go put - put some clothes on!"
Then Levi remembers that he's naked.
He shrugs, but doesn't obey. "So, how much did you hear?" he asks dully,
waiting for Eren to pry open his fingers and look up.
"Are you dressed?"
"No."
Green Eyes' gaze flickers conspicuously about Levi's anatomy. "Well... all of
it. You'd be surprised how loud you are."
Fuck.
"I've known about it since the night before Armin came over," he continues.
"You're really not that subtle."
Holy fuck.
"You thought Armin was my boyfriend, right?" Eren presses onwards, either not
noticing or completely disregarding Levi's furious shame. "So? Is that what you
thought?" When the silhouette on the other side doesn't waver, he keeps going.
"Well, he's not... at least, not anymore. Armin's in the business with me.
We've been together for a really long time... sometimes we collaborate and
stuff. For videos. Cams. But we don't fuck each other for free, these days."
Silence.
Then, finally: "Why're you telling me this? You think I care?
"You're a client," Eren says briskly. "It's your right to know."
A client.
That shouldn't hurt him like it does. 
"So, you're gonna make me pay for the show from here on out? Since you've
caught onto me and all?" Levi knows he sounds icy, but he can't make himself
care. He doesn't bother to keep the acid out of his tone when he speaks.
It's Eren's turn to look away here. "Well..."
Levi stares at him. "Well, what?"
"It's - it's weird, I know," he murmurs, low, quick words meshing together,
climbing in heat as he clenches his fists. "I thought you were the dirty one.
But I - I couldn't stop thinking about it once I found out, and I - I'm not -
look, I was... shit, I was hard before he even touched me, okay? God damn."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Eren just shakes his head, frowning miserably. "I couldn't sleep in there
knowing that you were... that you watching me, and so I ended up moving to the
couch, trying to get my thoughts together, because... I felt gross. I felt
nasty.Rich, considering what I am, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"You!" he bursts out, finally, eyes glinting and teeth bared in desperate
exasperation. "That's what I got off to! You!"
By the tone of his voice, Levi figures that Eren wants him to be disgusted,
shocked,anything. But, despite how confused Green Eyes is looking, across the
yard from him, shot with starlight and electrified by regret - it's hard to
feel anything but numb relief.
"If you're not mad, then I'm not."
Eren exhales, the guilt evaporating from his face. A smile, like a truce, eases
its way back onto his lips, and Levi suddenly feels an intense remorse for him.
For his self-blame. "I guess... we're both perverts, aren't we?"
"You're not that bad." You weren't even in the wrong. You're the victim,
stupid. Not the sinner.
"What do you mean?"
For one rabid moment, Levi considers telling him everything - about Erwin,
about Farlan, about his sickness and insatiability. But, after the heat flares
and dies, he thinks better, resolving just to stare demurely. "I have
problems."
"No, fucking, shit,Sherlock."
Levi doesn't reply to that.
"So..." Eren twitches his head to the side, stretches awkwardly, and cat-arches
his back like he's trying to fill the gaps in their conversation with movement.
Even the moon seems to be frozen in time, confused, suspended in anticipation.
"...What now?"
Levi frowns. "Don't ask me." Stupid."You're the one who called me out."
"Well... yeah," Green Eyes affirms. "So don't do that shit anymore."
"Fine."
Inwardly, though, Levi's heart is strangled with gratitude. It's the most he
could have hoped for out of the worst case scenario; Eren isn't mad.Eren is
still talking to him.Blondie's identity, his relationship with Eren, their
strange history together - it's all irrelevant right now. The only thing that's
important at this point in time is that Eren has blessed him with forgiveness
for his transgressions, something that he could never be worthy enough to
receive. It means that there is still hope for whatever ugly, mutated feelings
of adoration Levi harbors towards this enigmatic boy.
It's no longer a question of pure desire.
"Hey," Eren says, suddenly, before a yawn overtakes his visage. His arms go up
in the air as he stiffens his back once more. "I'm going to bed, all right?"
Levi lets out a held breath. "Okay."
"And I'm gonna buy some curtains." Eren makes a face at Levi through the
shadows, seemingly at ease again. "Good night."
Levi watches him stumble onto his mattress, still lacking clothes. He curls up
into a fetal position, closes his eyes, and doesn't open them again. Awake, but
unreachable. He doesn't move until Eren is snoring softly, forming small drool
puddles on his sheets - then, he leaves his guardpost and slips back into the
darkness of his room.
"Good night."
***** day six *****
Chapter Notes
     hey, I'm back, if anyone's still interested. after two years. yeah.
     needless to say, a lot's been going on, but I always come back to
     this goddamn fucking crapshow and the wonderful comments that have
     been left here over the months. it's kind of sad tbh but I guess you
     can't teach an old dog new tricks? anyways I love you all and this
     pos is probably one of the best fics I've ever written
     (unfortunately). so here you go. the time has finally come. i hope
     you enjoy this chapter, because you deserve it.
 
 
"Hey." That fucking sunhat again. "I'm your babysitter."
Levi's mother hardly left him with an excuse this time, claiming that she
didn't want him to be alone on the fourth of July. Like hell it matters. She
told him she was going to pick up the check, and head downtown to do god-knows-
what for a night.
Just don't get shot in an alley, Levi thinks, dully, as he looks down at the
boy on the porchstep. His heart is thrumming like a busted idle. He breathes
in the fresh scent of eau du Eren, and lets it wash over him like cool air,
like cherry popsicle juice in the summer.
"I know."
Eren steps inside and lets the door slam behind him. The sun filters through
the glass pane, framing him with an aureola of golden, midmorning gloriousness.
He smells like stale B.O. and dirt and garden flowers, and there's a smudge of
soil on his right cheekbone, but he looks better. He looks good, refreshed,
tanned; not strange and sad and pale like he did last night. Levi can't really
blame him for that, but his weird attitude seemed to be coming from other
places. Like, not the fact he'd discovered a little jerkoff prying on his
private parts - something else, something that a certain neighbor could never
hope to understand.
"We're going over to my house today," Eren declares, and a shockwave hits Levi
tidal.
"Why?"
Eren flashes him a canine grin. "We're putting up the curtains."
Oh.
And, just like that, the excitement dies. The butterflies go whooshing out of
his gut with a rush of air that manifests itself as a disgruntled sigh - one
loud enough for Green Eyes to hear. "Yeah, well, you fucking deserve it," Eren
grumbles, only half-jokingly.
Levi decides not to remind Eren of the one time he tried to go outside on the
porch for a while; he seems to have forgotten all about that disaster. Or, the
significance of it all never registered with him. Either way, it doesn't look
like there's a choice.
"Give me your sunhat," Levi says, then furrows his brow. His golden word is
rusty. "Please."
"Wh-" Eren looks at him for a moment, then stops his objection. "Okay."
He tosses it to Levi, with the gloated elation of having elicited a surly
preteen's manners in his gaze. Together, they hop down the steps to the broken-
stone walkway, out onto the sidewalk and up Eren's little driveway. His is only
half as weed-infested as the Ackermans', with small garden rakes and shovels
marking the path to his porchstep. With a dull heatflash of shock, Levi
realizes he's never actually seen Green Eyes' front door. He doesn't know what
lies beyond it, either.
His breath, without conscious thought, has sped up to a runner's pace.
"It's okay," Eren says, strangely.
Levi ignores him, and watches as his long, brown arm swings upwards like a
whole-grain noodle. One good jostle, a pull and a twist, and they're inside.
===============================================================================
It's pretty much the same thing as his house, but somehow, Eren's bedroom
manages to be a lot messier than Levi's.
"I don't leave mine," Levi says, when Eren questions the state of his. "But I
clean it."
"Whatever," Eren snorts. "Bet your walls are covered in-"
"I clean it," Levi snarls, handing Eren the curtain rod he's been carrying so
that Green Eyes knows he's not really offended.
"All right. So..." Eren glances down at his diminutive companion, and for the
first time, he seems to register how small the boy actually is. Levi pretends
not to notice. "Where's that curtain?"
"Right here." Obediently, Levi holds out the shrink-wrapped object of
punishment. "You're not going to measure anything beforehand?"
Eren shrugs. "Nah. Just gonna eyeball it. Brackets?"
One by one, Levi hands Eren the items he requests, nearly and only half-
accidentally dropping the drill on his foot as he hands it over. As Green Eyes
mounts the rod, Levi is left sitting cross-legged in the midst of a hurricane
of uncleanliness. He glances at the grubby alarm clock by the side of Eren's
bed. Noon.They have all day together, which is both an exciting and terrifying
prospect. There seems to be little in the way of awkwardness between them;
nonetheless, their situation is almost too good to be true. Levi can't help but
think that Eren's disguising his anger with nonchalance.
By the time Green Eyes finishes installing the curtain, boredom has worked its
effect on Levi. He's already set to organizing the textbooks in alphabetical
order, making Eren's bed, and creating a dirty laundry pile in the corner.
Hardly noticing the busybody whirlwind surrounding him, Eren steps off of his
makeshift dictionary-ladder and begins to pack away the dusty drill and bit
set. Once every piece has been accounted for, he stands up and steps back to
admire a job questionably-done.
"Fuck. I can't believe I had to put up curtains because of a chronic
masturbator."
It's said with an exaggerated sigh, bearing no genuine ill-will. Glancing over
his shoulder and hoping to get a reaction, Eren finally registers the organized
chaos that said chronic masturbator has wreaked upon his room.
"Wow." His gaze flits from the stack of sweat-tainted unmentionables in the
corner, to the sleep-ready sheets, to the neatly-arranged books on his desk.
"It didn't occur to you to ask my permission before you fucked with my shit?"
Levi scowls and shrugs.
"Well, I guess I have nothing to hide from you." Eren lets out a deep sigh and
walks over to the edge of the bed where Levi is sitting and plops down next to
him. "So, uh... what do you want to do now?"
So close.Levi's heartbeat immediately doubles in pace, blood pounding in his
ears and thrumming in his wrists. Eren's left thigh is an inch away from
touching his own, and yet there's nothing there that suggests a consideration
of their previous conversation - not a spark nor a sliver. Either Green Eyes is
just as nervous as Levi, and he's freakishly talented at maintaining a facade,
or he's truly irrelevant to what happened between them. Or maybe he's already
blocked it out of his mind.
"You could be more grateful. For starters." Sarcasm. Always a safe bet.
Eren frowns. "So? I am. How am I supposed to prove my gratefulness to you, oh-
ye-who-doubt?"
"However you want." Levi swallows, now acutely aware of the fact that he's
never said this boy's name to his face. "...Eren."
There! That's it!The shade of a glimmer of heat, visible for a split-second in
his eyes.
"Well, you know... I could use a smoke."
And it's gone.
Levi wants to shout with frustration, but it's not like him to raise his voice,
so he doesn't. Daring himself to meet Eren's gaze, he realizes that Green Eyes
is avoiding looking at him directly. He's scrounging through his back pocket,
eyes downward cast, with his brown shock of hair obscuring the majority of his
expression. Part of his baby-blue tank top is riding up, revealing a slim,
slender line of brown, and in that moment, Levi makes up his mind.
It's now or never.
"That's bad for you."
Eren freezes. Levi can almost hear the breath catch in his throat.
They're still sitting down in the same position, but Levi has leaned across
Green Eyes' lap, his hand precariously close to the lightning-charged spot that
resides between the college boy's legs. With an iron grip that Levi knows is
much stronger than the size of his arm would suggest, he's caught Eren's wrist
mid-grab, intercepting his reach for the cigarettes. Like a stop-motion
picture, they are paralyzed in time; in complete silence, the calm before the
storm. The dull buzz of the cicadas outside is like the thundering voice of
God, making his judgements before Moses on Mount Sinai.
For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes,
and the pride of life, is not of the Father...
"You... what are you doing?" Eren whispers.
Levi presses his lips together in a thin, thin line. He prays that Eren can't
feel how fast his heart is racing.
"You know what I'm doing."
"Do I?" Eren grins, but it's an incredibly shaky grin, made even less
convincing by his forced laugh. "I'm... I'm not really sure what this is about,
Levi, but it's kind of weird-"
"You know exactly what this is about." He lays his arm firmly across Eren's
lap, forming a bridge between them - and now, he can feel the signs of life
beginning to manifest themselves between those lovely, denim-clad thighs.
Stay calm.
Levi has played this routine before. His mother was a prostitute, and he
learned it from her. He perfected it with Farlan. He practiced it on Erwin. And
now he's laying it thick on Eren. He doesn't want Green Eyes to perceive him as
innocent, not even remotely - he wants the seventh veil to drop, the illusions
to be dispelled; he wants Eren to know that Levi Ackerman is as every bit as
disgusting and fucked-up as any person who could ever, and would ever, want to
sleep with him.
Eren continues to shy away from him, but with less and less resistance as he
speaks. "Look, Levi, you're... you're assuming that I want you, but... you
couldn't be farther from the truth."
Even as he protests, his crotch is pressing harder against Levi's arm, creating
a stark, almost-humorous counter to his words of denial. The sensation
threatens to throw Levi off track, but he doesn't let it. Leaning in close,
rubbing his forearm ever-so-slightly against Green Eyes' shame and salvation;
all he can think about is what it looks like, under there, right now. And that
pushes him to continue.
"Yeah, right. You've been trying to push it out of your mind all week. I can
tell." He works a scornful smile onto his face, knowing that the scarcity of it
will provide greater leverage to his words. It's not easy, but he thinks it's
working. "Say it: I wanna fuck you, Levi."
Eren swallows hard. Immediately, Levi realizes he's pushed too far, but he
doesn't have time to react before Eren reaches down and locks his hand around
his churning wrist. "Stop it, Levi." Now, there's real anger flashing in his
eyes - tinged with a hint of green, green shame. "You have no idea what the
fuck you're doing."
"I don't?" He tries to pull his arm out of Eren's grasp, but he's too small and
Eren is too big to fight against.
"Listen, Levi, I know you think you're an adult, but you're not, and I know
it's been hard for you but I'm making the decision to end it right here. The
game is up. I'm sorry about last night. I wasn't thinking straight, and-"
"Let go of me," Levi grits out.
Eren stops. His eyes widen slightly at Levi's tone.
"Youthink you're so fucking grown up," Levi growls. "But you're just as fucked-
up as I am. I bet you were just like me, and I bet you're afraid that I'll end
up just like you. I'm right, aren't I?"
Eren doesn't move. His eyes are fixated on Levi's lips, his expression a
picture of utter shock.
"We're both addicted to sex. I need it, you need it - shit, Armin needs it. And
that's just how it is." Levi swallows hard before plunging onwards. "So, maybe
we can help each other. Maybe this isn't as bad as you think. Maybe you can fix
me. And I can fix you."
After a few moments of heavy silence, Eren loosens his grip. It hovers by his
side, uncertain, still clenched and white where his nails are digging into his
skin. Levi decides to chance it again. He places his hand directly in Green
Eyes' lap, happily surprised to feel that his erection has yet to subside. When
he rests the weight of his palm upon Eren's crotch, there's no resistance; only
a shuddering sigh, a slight shiver.
Carefully, Levi begins to stroke his bulge, tracing the fly of his jeans with
slow, feather-light touches. His movements follow the cues of their
surroundings, the electricity in the air - and, as Levi looks up at him, trying
to anticipate his next move, Eren lets out a held breath. His eyelids flutter,
his hand falls from his pocket and all at once Levi knows that this beautiful,
sweaty nineteen-year-old is his.
Still, he won't stop protesting. "Stop it," Green Eyes says, even as a loud
sigh betrays him. "You can't do this, it's... it's fucked up."
The devil and the angel on his shoulder are so obvious, so plain, that Levi can
almost hear them fighting. Green Eyes' black and white nature, the banality
that grants him such power, has been tearing him apart from the inside out. For
as long as they've known of each others' existence, the conflict has been
raging within his mind. Levi sees it. He's not too young too understand those
feelings, and it irritates him that Eren won't look beyond them.
He takes Green Eyes' zipper between two fingers and tugs it down, slowly. "Just
shut the fuck up," he snaps. "I like you. And I don't think there's anything
wrong with that."
===============================================================================
He doesn't care that it's undignified. He doesn't think Eren cares, either.
"You're drooling on me," Green Eyes gasps.
Levi doesn't need to see his face to know what his expression looks like right
now. Hearing his husky, half-mortified moans as Levi digs his teeth into soft,
brown skin - that's more than satisfactory. Clutching tighter, fingernails like
claws near Green Eyes' perfect tailbone; he's trying hard to not fall apart
completely, but it's so hard to sit up straight when you're melting in someone
else's hands.
"Want me to hold you up?"
Levi nods, unable to articulate a full response. Green Eyes wraps his
unoccupied arm around the boy's pale, bony back, and assists him in
straightening his spine ever-so-slightly. He unsuccessfully tries to keep from
arching himself against Eren's supportive palm, while the other one works
against him in the most delectably evil way.
"Not going to lie," Eren smiles, "I never thought I'd see you like this."
"I didn't... believe in handjobs... until now," Levi gasps, legs quivering
suddenly and deliciously as Eren picks up speed. "The tip, just - just like
that, fff."
Erwin only ever wanted to fuck.
"Yeah, I'm surprised that you can even feel this, what with your... habits and
all." Earning a particularly reproachful hickey for that comment, Eren exhales
heavily against Levi's neck and once again lapses into silence.
Their one-way pleasure session lasts for a couple more minutes, as Eren plays
with the droplets of precum precipitating at the tip of Levi's dick. Using them
as lube, he runs his hand up, down, up, down, in a gentle-but-firm rhythmic
pattern. With three long fingers and a thumb, wrapped tightly around the boy's
shaft, he executes a twist-and-flick motion that's more than enough to make the
pale boy squirm. Levi latches on to Eren's chest like a lamprey, using the
flesh itself to muffle his stunted groans. 
"I'm gonna cum," Levi exhales, suddenly, as the sensation overtakes him without
warning. Though it's absolute agony to cut himself off at the brink of orgasm,
Levi knows he needs to have self-control; he doesn't want this time to be like
all the other times. Andhe wants to get laid. Throwing his head back and
gripping Eren by the shoulders, he pushes the college boy away violently.
"N-no more."
Green Eyes looks down at Levi, startled and empty-handed. "What's wrong?"
"Fuck." He's struggling to get out the words. The urge to finish, to engage
himself without further ado is incredibly strong, and it takes everything he
has to resist it. His crotch is throbbing, begging for fulfillment.
"Fuck?"
Deep. Inhale. "Me."
Something in Eren's countenance seems to lapse utterly upon hearing Levi
deliver his plea. His brows relax, his eyes gloss over, and he seems to
understand the full gravity of their situation - there is no going back. His
final barrier of self-restraint shatters, and now all the pent-up, painful
weeks are laid plain and bare on his face. "God. Levi." He's already taking off
his pants. "Get the lube."
In that moment, neither of them care how odd it is that Levi knows the spot of
every hidden thing in Eren's room. He reaches behind a heavy volume of Crime
and Punishmentto find the little bottle of lube and box of unused condoms left
by Armin several days before. In a blur of movement, Green Eyes' pants fall in
a heap at the edge of his bed, followed by his tightie-whities and any shred of
decency that he still possesses. The boy in the latex lingerie has taken over
him. And it's mystical.
It's all a rush; a lush, adrenaline-fueled thunderwhirl as every fantasy that
Levi has ever crafted in the sickest corners of his mind flash before his eyes,
as if he's standing on the precipice of death facing a pair of outstretched
arms. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. He hasn't felt this alivein
a long, long time. The arms before him are Eren's. And they're holding him
close, holding him still as fingers work inside him - one, then two, then three
wet with lube.
"I think I'm gonna be sick," he whispers, moans, bites his lip and cringes.
"You're okay, Levi," Eren murmurs, and his tone of voice has never been so
soothing. His lips move from slender neck to boyish tapered jawline, covering
Levi's ears with kisses and coming to rest in a heap of messy dark hair. As he
breathes in the scent of Eren's bed, facefull of pillow, Levi is thinking about
all the sleepless nights he's spent praying for an embrace like this one, all
the faces of the lost; his mother crying, Erwin leaving, sandy-haired Farlan in
a pool of blood, and Eren standing above them all - quiet, steady, godlike. All
the wingless angels in heaven couldn't sing his praises.
Armin, you lucky, lucky bastard.
"You ready, Levi?"
Levi hisses as Eren slides his fingers out one-by-one, but he nods nonetheless.
He's practically eating the pillow. He listens as Eren opens the condom wrapper
and stretches out the rubber with a snap. He tries not to clench in
anticipation.
"I'm gonna put it in, okay?"
Green Eyes doesn't wait for a response, which is all right because he doesn't
need one. The noise that Levi makes is enough. Like a cross between a blue
flame and a knife to the chest. A groan, half-composed of pain, half of
arousal; colored with the dark history of past weeks and curtainless windows.
He tries to keep it from escaping, from getting too loud, but he gives up the
moment that Eren fills him completely.
"That was hot," Green Eyes gasps.
Levi struggles to come up with words to express the swelling of pleasure in his
gut. "I'm - I'm not gonna be sick anymore."
Eren laughs. "Okay, Levi." He leans forwards to whisper in the boy's ear. "And
I'm not gonna be gentle."
"Eren-"
He stops. That tone of voice is the same tone of voice that Levi used weeks ago
before passing out in his arms. And it makes him falter.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, just..." Gingerly, Levi adjusts himself into a more
comfortable position, aware of Green Eyes' definitely-decent length. It makes
supporting himself a deliciously difficult task. "I want you... to be gentle."
Why did I say that?
But it's not something that Eren questions. Immediately, as if in complete
understanding, he kneels down and straddles Levi with silent, self-aware
slowness, one leg on either side of the boy's slender hips. Levi is half-
expecting him to yell "psych!" at any moment and start pommeling his ass like a
wrestling coach. He doesn't, though. Eren leans over his bent form and envelops
him with a sense of warmth and security that Levi would have never dreamed of
expecting from him; he embraces the smaller one's svelteness and begins to - of
all the things that one does while fucking - talk.
The thrusts start out slow, and so does Green Eyes. His tones are soft, quiet,
and husky; instead of asking him what the hell he's doing, Levi finds himself
relaxing into Eren's arms and listening to his elegy as their hips meet, then
part, again and again in an unearthly caper. The words fall from his lips like
he doesn't care who's listening, and maybe he doesn't. Maybe these are the
things he prays about every night, the things that Levi can't hear. His own
verbal version of The Confessions, punctuated by the occasional graceless moan
and passionate kiss.
"I think you're beautiful, Levi. I don't know why. You're completely messed up
in the head. I know you're twelve and my mind is a wreck and I have no idea
what to tell Armin about you. It's all right, I guess. He'll figure it out
eventually, he's sly like that. I thought I loved him but now I'm not so sure.
I mean, I still want him but it's not the same. And you look so young, but it's
not fucking fair because you don't act like it. You know too much, and I know
too much, so maybe we're good together just like this. Even if it's nothing
more. I don't like feelings. And I don't want this. But I do. I want it so
much."
Levi is barely paying attention. "Little faster," he murmurs.
He pushes back with the flats of his palms, forcing himself to take it like a
bitch. Eren is still moving at a gradual pace, and despite the low-pitched
yammering he's managed to keep an even tempo. His mouth snags the scruff of
Levi's neck, and the bestial streak that seems to make him so magnetic
manifests itself, ever-so-slightly; he begins to dig his teeth into the smooth
vampire-white skin of the boy's back, causing more annoyance than pain.
"Don't bite me, you prick." It's more of a moan, but the irritation is
convincing enough.
"Sorry."
As if to apologize, Eren reaches down to Levi's own neglected hard-on,
suspended in its state of excitement. An embarrassing noise escapes him as Eren
initiates round two of the stroking. His thrusts are deeper, and faster, but he
still maintains a wonderfully tantalizing slowness that extends to his
movements of his hand. It's far from the fast-and-furious pumping that Levi is
accustomed to, but he can't bring himself to protest; he's already three-
fourths of the way there and his legs are shaking uncontrollably and it feels
nice enough. Eren, increasing his torque now, pounds Levi's moans deeper into
the pillow with every subsequent entry. His skull knocks against the wood of
the headboard, gentleness all but forgotten now, but it's okay because they're
both pushing into each other so hard that the smell of need is heavy, damp in
the air. Not knowing whose moans are whose, yet not caring; letting Eren drop
him into the sheets as he pumps his last bit of lust into Levi's twitching
form.
As Eren cries out, Levi feels the sensation overtake him and there is nothing
to hold him back this time. All the faces meld into one in his mind: blue eyes,
pale grey, yellow-green prisms dancing; three separate lifetimes immortalized
in a single heart. And suddenly, they vanish - Levi lets go, remembering where
he is and who he loves now, cumming into Green Eyes' waiting palm. The thought
flashes through his mind that maybe he's made a giant mess, and it's probably
all over the sheets, but he's helpless in throes of climactic glory and in
those seconds nothing matters to him but the overpowering warmth.
It's over quickly, and abruptly, but not miserably. Eren withdraws his hand
before Levi can moan that he's too sensitive to be touched anymore. They catch
their breaths, lungs heaving, legs vibrating with the ebbing remnants of
orgasm. Delicately, Green Eyes pulls out and rolls up the condom, sniffing it
for god knows what reason before he tosses it in the trash.
"God," he pants, a wild look on his face as he glances down at Levi. "What are
you?"
"Messy," Levi gasps back, and grabs Eren's arm without hesitation as the boy
helps him to sit up.
"No shit." Eren says idly. "It's all over my hands."
Levi turns around as fast as his ravished spine will allow him. There's a
couple of milky-translucent threads of unmentionable stuff trailing down the
front of his legs, and a decent-sized wet spot on the sheets, but most of it is
webbed between Green Eyes' fingers. Disgusting.
"Well, you can go clean it."
"Me?" Eren scoffs, lightly, despite his heavy breathing - prompting a narrow-
eyed glare from Levi. "Didn't your mother teach you manners?"
It takes a moment for Levi to realize what Green Eyes in insinuating. "Oh,
that's fucking nasty."
"You know what else is fucking nasty? Jerking off to your neighbor while he
sleeps."
Levi shoots him a fearsome, sloe-eyed glare. "I want to take a shower."
"Yeah? Well, you need one," Eren says peevishly.
"Where's your bathroom?"
"Hold on," Green Eyes frowns. "I can't afford to waste water."
"So?"
Eren rolls his eyes like it should be obvious. "So? Let's shower together."
With a sigh that's anything but forlorn, Levi stretches his legs and slides off
the bed. He's butt-naked, and there's no air conditioning, and the atmosphere
is ripe with a tangy mix of body sweat and fertilizer. But there is nothing
that he could want more than to be standing in the middle of Eren's room, feet
black with carpet grime, right now - because, even in the midst of this dirty
world, he has never felt so clean.
"Fine."
===============================================================================
They're sitting together in the living room, half-watching the news.
Celebration at Vanity Park. Festival on Main Street. Firecrackers launched from
the top of the Survey Corporation building, the proud, industrial landmark that
downtown St. Maria calls its own. Its mighty glass windows bloom with vibrant
colors, reflecting blues and greens and reds. People swarming in the alleys
below, sparklers flying and pedestrians swallowed by the throng. Red solo cups
littering the ground and reporters swimming through the fray, faux-smiles
glinting and concealing prayers of getting shitfaced drunk tonight.
It was the last place that he saw Farlan and Isabel.
And all the blood...
"I wasn't strong enough," Levi says quietly, out of the blue. Eren looks over
to him, eyes green with curiosity, but Levi hardly notices it.
For once, Eren doesn't make one of his annoying inquiries, and instead resolves
to hug Levi closer to his warmth. God, he's like the sun. "You're pretty strong
for a kid. I mean, the sex was more intense than I thought you'd be able to
handle... and... when I second-guessed myself, you... talked me out of it."
But Levi just shakes his head. "I want to be strong for a person," he murmurs.
"Not just for a kid."
"You're both," Eren says simply. "It takes all kinds of strength to survive."
Finally, Levi looks up at him. He looks, and looks and looks.
Eren looks back.
Maybe, I...
Slowly but surely, Levi searches out his right hand, finds it rumpled in the
fabric of his faded blue jeans. He takes it, slides his fingers in between the
slender gaps, feels around for a bit.
Then he closes his fist around Eren's.
For a while, they lay next to each other, worn out from fucking and content to
wallow in the muggy summer heat. Suddenly, Eren stirs, breaking the silence.
"You know, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but... I don't think your mom's
really paying me to babysit you. I mean, she is, but-"
Levi's head snaps towards Eren's, peaked with dire interest. "But what?"
"Well..." He looks slightly guilty, slightly sad. Part of his expression is
unreadable. "I think... she wants you to have a friend. You know, like...
someone to bring you out of your shell. She didn't say it outright, but I know.
I can tell."
Levi's mind stumbles over the words, unable to register them fully. "So.... she
pays a babysitter to do it for her?"
Green Eyes says nothing, but grips Levi's hand tighter.
"Fuck."  He doesn't know what else to say. He doesn't want to be angry at Eren,
but he can't help it. His gaze is tinged with red. "Just... fuck."
"Yeah," Eren agrees. "That's a really shitty thing to do. That's why I'm gonna
stop babysitting you."
"Y-you are?" The stutter is small, practically nonexistent, but it's still
there. If it means that they'll never talk again-
"Don't worry," Eren says, with a terrible, knowing smile. "We can still see
each other. We're neighbors, aren't we?"
The moment he looks into Eren's eyes, Levi's chest burns with something hot.
"Yeah..."
He's... he's...
They lean into each other, and it doesn't matter who started moving first.
Their lips meet in a truce - a promise that, someday, they will no longer be
lonely. And it goes on, and on, and on, like the fireworks in the early evening
skies outside, the sounds of children slinging bang snaps down the street.
Though Levi knows he can't run away forever, he needs the sanctuary of arms, of
tongue, of somebody who loves him. A hope, a ray of light in the form of the
strangest boy he's ever met.
All in all, it's a pretty good first kiss.
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