Bloom. || Part I

It’s not that Levi hates sex. But sex means people, and it means a stranger’s breath on his skin, hands grabbing his hips too tightly or not hard enough, and it means men who try and try so hard to make him feel good; men who all give up in the end. They always do, even those who loved him.

“Why don’t you kiss?” – “Relax. It’s just sex.” – “What, can’t come for me?” – “Baby, what are you hiding from me? Did someone hurt you?”

He doesn’t have sex anymore. He doesn’t kiss, doesn’t flirt. Evenings are a cup of tea and his favourite blanket, freshly washed, some movie on the tv. He falls asleep with his eyes clenched shut, curled into himself to feel a spark of warmth.

Sometimes, Levi wishes for tattoos. Little inked scars on the spots where he wants to be kissed.

A sun rising on his throat, its beams showing a path of gold to his neck. A silver mermaid swimming around his hipbone, delicate fingers resting on his thigh, a fin curled around his waist. Eagle’s wings, white and hazel, spreading on his back, and a thin emerald snake coiling along his spine like a protector of Eve’s apple, its tail reaching around to his stomach, lower.

He wants black lines that scream “please, touch me. Here, and here, kiss me, love me, fuck my living soul out, but pleaseplease let the sun rise on my neck and make my heart fly”. He already has one tattoo, a pair of crossed wings above his heart. There’s nobody to ask for its meaning. One half is drowning in dark blue ink.

He’s been singing since he can remember, and he’s been searching just as long. The world can’t be that empty, without something that has his heart burst into stars just as much as the first tunes of a symphony. It can’t be the only thing. It just – whenever he thinks he found something, it ends in tears and snow falling on his heart.

He should’ve been more careful with his wishes and the ink dripping off his silent lips.

Levi meets him in one of his music classes. Nice singing voice, deep and rich. That’s all he thinks at first, nothing special – until the man chooses a song. The docent makes Levi join in, half an octave higher, yes please accompany him.

“Demons” by Imagine Dragons, arrangement for two voices and a choir. The other people wait for the new one to start.

It takes a single line. Levi’s lips part, eyes widen. The sun on his throat blooms.

It’s the first time they melt into each other.

At some point, everyone else falls quiet, their voices a mere susurring of ocean waves. The man’s voice rises like a storm, it roars and whispers and promises darkness, rich, sweet heat that tingles all the way up Levi’s spine and into his skull. The echo is loud and quiet and it’s the first time that his voice shakes during singing.

The man looks at him the whole time, sun reflecting in his eyes, lips moving around words and tunes and pure music.

The snake along Levi’s spine moves, lazily dragging its fangs across his skin. He leaves the music room with crimson in his cheeks and a hurricane swirling through his blood.

The man’s name is Erwin.

Levi doesn’t care. He walks home in delusion, people passing by, none of their shitty words reaching him. Levi hears music, and the music carries blue eyes and velvety flames and a music that burns under his cold, lonely skin.

He’s ashamed to abuse the memory, but that voice is all it takes for him to slide under his covers later and wrap a hand around his cock, the other sliding to press into his tight heat, sobbing as he comes with hips bucking up.

When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold

Reincarnation. What a strange word. Levi had found it in an old book in the library, next to esoteric shit about spirit travel and everlasting love. Fairy tales, children’s stories. He only took this one book and never brought it back. The habit of keeping what had once become his sat deep inside his soul. That way, he found Erwin, too.

Or did Erwin find him – yes, that was it. Waiting in front of the library, eyes calm, body shorter and hair silver already, and Levi stopped sharp. The book dropped. Bodies aged and wrinkled, but souls didn’t. Souls grew wide and magnificent and Levi’s fingers clung to Erwin’s coat as he flew, crashed into his arms. How long, his voice asked, cracking, breaking into shatters of sky and hope.

Too many, Erwin said quietly, his lips kissing Levi’s cheeks bleeding from tears. Centuries. Eras for you, an eternity. Souls didn’t age.
But they could melt. They could coalesce.

Eruri Week Day 4: Little Things / Eruri Insiders

It’s the little things.

Erwin indulges in the soft red colour tinting Levi’s ears whenever their fingers brush. The meetings of the Corps can be boring and straining, but their hands lace up under the table and Levi’s other hand around the tea cup shivers the tiniest bit. It’s the little things – when he returns from a mission, both of them covered in blood and filth, clothes torn where titan’s teeth almost tore them apart. When Levi comes out of the showers, naked, skin red where he scrubbed it clean, he presses his body into Erwin’s arms and buries his face against the chest where a heart beats just for him.

It’s the little things – Erwin’s hand brushing the small of his back before a mission, up to his neck, tightening around it, and Levi’s head rolling back into the touch as if he’s been born to fit against Erwin, as if heaven and hell themselves carved both of them from a single block of marble and tore them apart with whispered words of “go, find him in another life for he is all you wanted, all you need, and the little things that will stop the bleeding of your soul”.

Eruri Week Day 3: Home / Domestic

“I don’t care how long it takes. I won’t take my daughter home to a bedroom that’s painted like a rabid dog threw up all over the fucking walls.”

Erwin massaged the bridge of his nose. He set the paintbrush down and took a deep, long breath. Levi had his arms crossed, glaring at him from below with eyes that said “I will get my way or you will sleep on the couch tonight”. It was about their baby girl and Levi was acting like a mother hen trying to make the nest for her child the most comfortable in all existence of eggs and chickens.

“Fine,” Erwin finally said and Levi’s face lightened up. “We’ll repaint it. You happy now? It’s not like I’m covered in green paint already, but whatever.”

“I love you,” Levi quietly said and tiptoed to kiss Erwin’s nose, smearing more green from his cheek across his lover’s face. Then he jumped back, grinning widely and Erwin could only growl “oh no you won’t – !” before a paintbrush slashed across his already dirtied shirt and left a bright minty streak across green. They had chosen fresh colours for their girl’s room, and Levi (as the artist he was) had begun to paint the ceiling as a sky and the walls like a deep forest full of hiding animals and beautiful flowers.

Erwin had been allowed to paint the grass, and even there Levi had to correct him and correct some of his badly drawn shadows. He was covered in all possible colours, dots of red on the butt of his old outworn jeans, legs sprinkled with pink from the roses Levi had painted.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” His voice had lowered to a dangerous snarl, and Levi squeaked adorably when Erwin snatched him around the waist and rubbed his colourful face all over his lover’s neck and cheeks.

“Ew, you are such a dumbass, fuckin’ stop that!” Levi struggled and kicked in his hug and finally dropped against Erwin’s chest like a stone, nose nuzzling into his dirty shirt. A strip of sky blue was on his forehead, and Erwin pressed his thumb next to it, leaving a sunny yellow spot.

“I hope she’ll like us.” Levi breathed against his chest, hair ruffled into a mob of darkness with pink and orange tips where paint had fount its way into it. Erwin sat down on the floor where they had put the plastic foil, pulling Levi on his lap. Their foreheads pushed together, resting gently as Erwin cupped his face and brushed his nose against Levi’s.

“She’ll love us. Who wouldn’t love to have a father like you? You painted a world for her, Levi. A world.” Levi’s smile was a rare thing, shy and insecure like a deer hiding in the forest that bloomed around them.

“You’re right. She’ll be ours, and we’ll always be hers. Our little girl.”

Eruri Week Day 2: Sacrifice

It’s over, hope is gone, but Levi shakes his head into Erwin’s neck where his tears are soaking into the white pristine shirt. “No, no no no.”

“Levi,” Erwin says gently. “It’s alright. Shhh. Darling, please. I’m sorry.”

He apologizes even though it’s not his fault, it never is, because Erwin Smith is good and pure and Levi hates that he has to be loved by a man like him who’s all darkness and filthy corners and secrets lingering in his eyes. When Erwin falls asleep, Levi hiccuping and sobbing in tears by his side, a doctor approaches him. His coat his white, he’s young and his name tag says something Levi can’t read.

“You’re his husband?” He asks, softly, as if Levi is a tiny animal that might shy away. “Yeah,” he replies anyways, tears streaming down from red-rimmed eyes. The doctor smiles and Levi relaxes. He’s fine with gays, apparently. “There might be a way.”

Levi doesn’t even think about it twice. The doctor explains something about risks and that all operation carry the chance of death and that they don’t even know whether his kidney will be right for Erwin. They run tests on him, so many, and the miracle of a few little numbers on paper drive fresh tears down Levi’s cheeks.

As always, he and Erwin fit perfectly.

The doctors act quickly. The surgery happens a day later. Levi and Erwin wake up together, with scars on both of their bodies. Someone pushed their beds together, letting them touch and press warm lips together for a precious heart beat. Levi runs his hand over Erwin’s cheek and closes his eyes when a mouth whispers “I love you” against his forehead.
He swallows, nods. “Love you too,” he says with a dark voice and a little hope swinging in it.

Levi would sacrifice anything for him.

Erwin is unyielding. Only when a small, pale hand slips into one of his, grip tightening around his larger palm, squeezing till he feels warmth and a strong pulse beating into his rough skin – only then, Erwin’s shoulders give up their heavy tension and relax, and he lets his head fall back for shy kisses to be placed carefully upon his throat, Levi’s voice humming in satisfaction when he conquers his commander.

December 24th

“Kneel.”

Erwin obeys. His strong body falls like a mountain before Levi, both knees hitting the ground with a soft thump on the pillow, eyes cast downward to the floor. Levi runs his finger along Erwin’s spine, nail leaving a red scratch mark. Erwin groans like a chained beast, his back bucking up, wild shudders shaking him all throughout his being. Levi smiles.

“There’s my good boy. Open your mouth.”

Erwin obeys, again, and when Levi grabs his collar and tilts Erwin’s head back, his lips are parted and tongue sticking out, desperate moans spilling from his bobbing throat where he’s swallowing, hard. Wanting, desiring his man. Then Levi’s slinging one leg around his neck. Erwin instinctively holds it in place, fingers reverently dancing to his Dom’s ankle, wrapping around it like it’s precious silver.

“Give it to me, nice and slow.” Levi’s voice is quiet thunder.

Erwin closes his eyes and nods, whispering “yes Sir” with a wide smile on his lips before his mouth opens and he licks fire between Levi’s legs, pushes inside, feels him tight and hot and twitching on his tongue, and hears his Dom moan when the grip on his collar tightens and Levi rocks his ass right into his wet greedy mouth.

“Good – ah, fuck. Shit, just like that, you’re so g-good…”

Levi’s voice breaks, and Erwin feels his cock pulse, heavy and swollen between his legs. He’s not allowed to touch, doesn’t even want to. Not when Levi’s ass tightens around his tongue, presses down, how that leg around his neck goes heavy and suddenly Erwin’s holding his Dom upright, hears him groan and feels fingers rip at his hair, his collar with the silver ring on it.

Erwin loves how Levi pulls back just before he comes, and he’s closing his eyes and leaning in when warm, milky cum drips over his face and into his open mouth. Levi’s still panting. His leg slides off Erwin’s neck, both feet firmly on the ground again. Erwin swallows. Everything. His cock’s still hard but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care until he hears Levi sink down and kiss his dirty mouth.

“Thank you,” Levi whispers as their foreheads touch, and the collar slides off Erwin’s neck when Levi opens the lock. Erwin opens his eyes, notices Levi’s watching him, unspoken question in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m the one who has to thank you,” is all Erwin says before he wraps himself around Levi, curls in his lap and feels Levi card fingers through his hair. He smiles when kisses are being pressed to his head, and thumbs trace where his collar was moments ago.

“You were perfect,” Levi whispers. “My good boy.” Erwin makes a dark noise at the nickname and then closes his eyes, trusting Levi to take care of him.

He always does.

Levi doesn’t love anyone.
The feeling is foreign to him, heavy and silver like the blade Erwin gave him the day he decided to follow his new commander into a world that wasn’t less dirty and bloody than his old.
Levi doesn’t love anyone, neither himself nor humanity, and not even freedom. He craves it like air, needs it so much that he sometimes claws at his own body because the desire is so deep – but he doesn’t love it.

Levi doesn’t love Erwin.
But if Erwin told Levi to throw his head back and to let his vulnerable, thin throat rest in his Commander’s hands – if Erwin whispered “trust me” and set a knife against his beating heart – if Erwin wrapped control around him like a dark coat, pulsing in his veins and sending him to soar over beasts and slay them –
Levi would obey, and he’d do so with a kiss and a “yes, Erwin”.

December 22nd

It’s a clichée. Everyone says “it happened so fast” when someone asks them later if they didn’t see that car coming. Erwin has to admit that he’d have to reply with the same words but for another reason. That reason is four years old, called Eren and currently crying his heart out in Erwin’s arms. The ambulance’s siren is howling somewhere above their heads, and together with the paramedic’s hectic voices buzzing around him, Erwin’s headache gets worse by the second. Eren is clinging to him, whispering “D-daddy pwease don’ die”, and Erwin tries to kiss his head and say it’ll be alright. He wouldn’t die, they told him – he’d been lucky. Few broken bones when the slowly approaching car had hit him on the crosswalk. The driver had been searching for the burger he’d dropped under his seat, and when spotting the father and his son, he hit the brake. Just in time.

Erwin is lucky. His reflexes had made him curl around his son – don’t lose him, not like you lost his mother years ago, no you can’t – and everything is as fine as it could be in such a moment. The world is a blur when he’s heaved out of the ambulance and rolled into an emergency room. Someone removes Eren from his body, the boy screams louder and a friendly female voice hushes him.

Then there’s a face above him, pale and small. Dark hair frames it like a storm cloud and Erwin finds himself grinning. What a goddamn beautiful man. Oh, did he say that out loud? The face smirks and Erwin hears his own voice say “you are cute” somewhere in the distance. A laugh, smooth and silky.

“The anaesthetics are kicking in. Sir, we’ll have to do surgery on your arm. You’ll be asleep soon.” The voice speaking is low, sharp and gorgeous like liquid silver. Erwin likes it. He tries to touch the young face, mumbles something like “doctors as cute as you should be illegal”. A short laughter trickles down, and Erwin smiles like a dumbass when his world fades.

“Is that so,” the voice says and then, “maybe you’ll arrest me when you’re awake again, then.” Someone calls “Daddy” again, and Erwin sinks into unconsciousness with the picture of a nametag that says “Dr. Levi Ackerman” swirling in his mind, along with a warm voice and soft fingers grazing his arm.

December 21st

A snowflake lands on his nose, melts on the tip and drips off his face along with tears. Levi waits. His hands are stiff and rigid. He presses them deeper into the shallow warmth of his winter uniform, tries to sneak away from the cold of winter howling around his body. The carriage is late, but they bring Erwin, and that’s all that counts. It’s not Christmas yet. But Levi doesn’t celebrate some religious shit. Instead, he suddenly looks up when the snow scrunches, and then he’s running, feet making dull noises on the white inner yard of the Survey Corps’ training grounds.
Erwin gets out with slow, unbroken elegance. His right sleeve flutters in the harsh howls of the wind, empty and thinned out. He’s hollow, body drained of all energy, but Levi flies into his arms and wraps himself around Erwin. “You,” he says, breathes into his collarbone, has to stand on his tiptoes to kiss his chin. Erwin’s arm holds him, strong as always.
“Welcome home,” Levi says.
“I missed you,” Erwin returns solemnly, as if he’s giving an oath to never leave again.