Chapter Text
Eren never really understood why he, in a moment of bravery, left his number for Levi. In all honesty, the man intimidated him despite his small stature. And as an art student, he was pretty sure that the man who lived on the floor above him had no interest in calling him. So maybe it was for naught, but he really can't know for sure.
His plans for the day revolved around being lazy and then going clubbing later on. His friends wanted to go to a club to celebrate the fact that Marco had finally gotten laid, but half of them just wanted to get pissed so it was a win in everyone's book.
So for the first part of the day (it was a Friday and he didn't have any classes), he essentially sat on his ass and did nothing besides watching things on the telly and gorging himself with junk food. Then, when it was five, he decided it was time to get ready since they had agreed to meet at six at the club. He sat up from his comfortable position on his couch, brushing crumbs from the crisps he had eaten earlier off of his hoodie and headed to his bedroom to change. Since they weren't going anywhere special, he opted for a pair of plain black jeans and a black shirt. He then pulled a black jumper on over it (all the while realizing that the majority of his wardrobe consisted of black apparel). He slipped on his bright red Converse and grabbed his keys, walking out of the door.
He didn't live far from the club they were going to, a rather low-key one named Colossal (named for its large glasses) so he just walked. When he arrived, he saw that two of his friends had just arrived, Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Fubar. The two were going out, though they tried to hide it from the rest of their friend, but it was extremely obvious. Eren gave the two a wave, and stopped so the two could catch up to them. Though he wasn't short, the two were taller than them by some inches, and Bert even taller than Reiner.
"Hey, Jaeger," Reiner greeted, giving him one of those award-winning smiles he had. Bert just mumbled a greeting, looking anxious at the idea of having to go inside. It was already crowded, probably since it was a Friday night, and the tall boy never did well with large crowds. The blond boy beside him immediately grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, though his gaze was still on their friend. He smiled to himself, returning the gesture before detaching their hands. As the blond boy and the brunet conversed, more of their friends showed, Annie with Connie and Sasha in tow. Marco was going to meet them later on, after he prepped his new boyfriend for the friends of the freckled boy he was going to meet.
The six all walked inside, already feeling elated from the feeling of the bass under their feet and the smell of alcohol and perspiration in the air. Annie marched towards the bar, ordering for herself before disappearing in the crowd. The rest wouldn't see her for a good while, asides from glimpses of her dancing with strangers. As his friends ordered, Eren found himself looking at the bartender. "Just a pint of lager," he said, and the man nodded, getting him his drink. As he slowly sipped on it, he looked around the crowded place, trying to see if he could find any familiar faces.
It was central London,. after all, so he highly doubted that he would know anyone else her, especially since he had moved her only ten years ago, when he was nine. And in those ten years, all he's done and created a close-knit group of friends, not trying to make any more. Which worked for him, because he sometimes came off as standoffish to others. As he slowly made the liquid in his glass disappear, he noticed a familiar face come in with another one behind him. It was Marco, with his new boyfriend, the star of the night.
Tapping on Reiner's shoulder, he pointed to the boy making his way across the crowded room. Reiner crowed and set his drink down, knowing he'd never be able to finish it. "Marco!" He cried, grinning wildly as the black-haired boy blushed. He came to stand in front of them, moving to the side so his friend could stand beside him.
"Hey guys," he said. "This is Jean." He gestured to the boy beside him then ducked his head as he knew that a barrage of questions were about to be thrown towards the boy.
"Why do you like Marco?"
"How old are you?"
Did you bottom or top?"
"Do you really like Marco?"
"Answer truthfully or we'll castrate you."
Those were the only ones Jean could hear over the loud music. He knew he was blushing from the way that his ears grew hot and his cheeks warm. "Uh," he began, not sure where to start. "I'm twenty, I like his personality, yes I really like him and there's no need for that."
Of course Reiner pointed out the fact that he avoided the question whether he topped or bottomed. When asked again, his face turned red as he mumbled out, "bottomed." They could barely hear it, but Eren and Reiner did and they yelled out words to Marco, who was flushing all the while. After deciding that they've done enough damage to the two, they returned to their drinks, the blond man ordering another one lest his first one had been spiked (they've all experienced it at one point or another). Eren had finished his drink and asked for another, before finishing that one and heading for the dance floor.
He took on step in before he was moving with the rest of the crowd, not giving two shits about what was happening. He was drunk, he was having fun, he was perfectly content with what was going on at the moment. After some time, he stumbled out of the crowd, asking for another drink before spotting his friends in the crowd. Bert and Reiner were kissing in the corner, Annie's blond hair could be seen here and there, and Jean and Marco were in a corner booth, both nursing their own drinks.
He smirked to himself and decided that he had enough for one night. Though not entirely sober and more than tipsy, he walked back to his apartment, and thankfully not having to converse with anyone for he feared he’d say the wrong thing (like he usually does).
Somehow in his drunken state, he had made it to his bed, which is where he woke up the next morning. He didn’t have too bad of a headache, but it wasn’t as nice as it could’ve been if there wasn’t one at all. Eren groaned, and reached for the bottle of painkillers he kept in his bedside table for emergencies like these.
Swallowing two, he made his way out of bed, stretching until his joints popped and he better. He made his way into the tiny kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water to relieve the dulling pounding of his head. After that, he grabbed a packaged cereal bar out of his cabinet before heading back to his bedroom to change. He had to be at work in just an hour, so he needed to dress quickly so he’d make it on time.
Once dressed in jeans and his shirt, he pulled on his shoes, half-hopping towards the door in his hurry to get out. He didn’t have a particular reason to hurry, since Hanji wouldn’t fire him for being late, but he formed a habit of hating to let people down. So he prefered to be early instead of late.
He took the stairs instead of the lift, and walked to the tube. His pace had mellowed, so he was going at a normal rate. In the train, he stood up as usual, one hand clutching the pole used for support.
When the doors opened at his stop, he exited and went up the stairs, stepping into the crisp air and heading due west to get to the little cafe he earned his keep at. Upon entering the doors, Hanji squealed, yelling at him, “you’re manning the till today!” He nodded and put on his apron, making sure his name tag was pinned.
Hours passed with him behind the register, taking orders and giving people their correct change. More than a few times he mixed up the notes, forgetting which currency he was using even after ten years. Christa was making the drinks, so he just had to scribble down a name and call it out when they were finished.
When his ten-hour shift was over, he hung his apron back up, bid his goodbyes to his coworkers before leaving. He retraced the steps he took to get to his workplace, before finally making it back to his apartment and collapsing on the couch. Though he hated to admit it, the job took more out of him than he’d like. As he lay there, contemplating what to do for the remainder of the day. As he did that, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He took it out, not expecting anyone to call him. Realizing that it was an unknown number, he began to get his hopes up that it might’ve been Levi. “Hello,“ he said into the receiver.
“Oi, brat,” came the voice that he only hear once before but had imprinted into his mind. He started to blush, despite the fact that the man had just called him a brat.
“Uh, hi, Levi,” he replied.
The man on the other end snorted, saying, “yeah, you’ve already said your hello’s. Anyways, I wanted to ask why did you think that you needed to leave your number for me?”
Eren felt his face burn; he was glad that the man on the end of the line couldn’t see it. He was sure his face was as red as an apple. “Uh, I just decided to. It wasn’t like I had any ulterior motive in mind for giving you it.”
Levi let out a low chuckle at that. “Are you sure it wasn’t because you wanted to see me more often?” The boy tried to protest, but it was to no avail. “Anyways,” the man continued, “I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out for dinner later on.”
It was blunt, but Eren already had that part of the man’s personality down. “Uh, sure,” he replied, a goofy smile taking up residence on his face.
“Good, I’ll come to your apartment around seven. Sound fine?”
“yeah, sounds perfect.” And with that, the two hung up and Eren fell back down on his sofa, letting a rather large smile take home on his face (one that was even bigger than his previous one).
When it was six, the boy decided that it’d be best to start getting ready. Realizing that he didn’t know where they were going, he picked up his phone and texted Levi.
Eren: Where are we going?
The response was instantaneous.
Levi: I’m not telling you. Dress casual.
Deciding that he would be able to get anything else out of the man, he left it at that and began to get ready, trying harder than he did most days. Picking out dark jeans and a maroon-coloured shirt, he chose a jean jacket to go over it, one that matched the shade of his pants. Determining that he looked good enough, he picked up a comb he kept for no real reason and pulled it through his hair, wincing as it snagged on some tangles. The result was tangle-free hair, but it still looked as messed up as it was prior to the combing.
He slipped his red Converse on and went to the living room, turning on the telly but not focusing on it. He was too busy trying to calm his nerves that bounced around in excitement. He didn’t exactly understand why he was so excited about this date - could he even call it a date? Not sure what exactly what it was, but knowing that it was going to happen, his nerves wouldn’t stop until there was a knock on his door.
He counted to five before crossing the room and opening the door. In front of him stood Levi, with an impassive expression on his face. Gray eyes connected with blue ones, before the latter looked away. The shorter man of the two rolled his eyes before saying, “c’mon, brat. Let’s go.” Not even offended by what Levi said, Eren followed him down the hall and to the lift.
Surprised that the boy didn’t object at the small space he was about to enter, Levi looked back at him and noticed that he had a goofy grin on his face. Making a noise of annoyance, he stepped inbot the compartment and pressed the button for the ground floor. Wiping his hand on his jeans, he waited impatiently for it to reach the floor (all the while wondering why he didn’t take the stairs; they were only on the second floor). When the door finally opened, he was the first to step out, not even looking behind him to see if the boy was following. But since he could hear another pair of footsteps beside his, he realised that he was so he didn’t bother to stop.
“Hurry up; we have people waiting for us.”
Eren felt sort of disappointed that it wasn’t just the two of them, before he realised that he had only talked to the man three times, counting the exchange that they had at his lift. Brushing off the feeling, he followed the shorter male to the tube station, trying not to give it another thought.