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He never lays a hand on Eren Jaeger.
A boot, a fist, a knee when he’s ordered to, but never a hand, and he’s bitterly aware that the reason he doesn’t and never will is very ironic.
It’s not because of Eren’s age.
Eren’s not a man, because being a man means nothing but a certain evening out of gangling limbs and the recategorization of baby fat into body fat, but he’s been an adult for quite some time now.
All of them have.
Every year they send children to fight the titans, and every year, only adults and dead children come back.
It isn’t because he’s afraid to lose Eren, either.
Eren’s going to live, and Levi can see that.
He knows that Eren will live with the same visceral certain that he knows he will die.
Today. If not today, tomorrow.
If not tomorrow, the day after.
The knowledge lines the seams of his mind, makes up the stitching of his person.
He wakes up thinking,
‘I’m going to die today,’
and the thought doesn’t particularly bother or please him.
It’s just fact.
He’s going to die.
The recruits might say that there’s no time to be reckless like the day before you know you’re going to die, but Eren’s going to live and that’s a problem.
Levi’s may not be a good man, but he’s not a cruel one, either.
He sees the way Eren looks at him.
He knows that Eren wants him with all the thoughtless fervency of his youth, and he knows that Eren looks up to him as a hero.
He has mixed feelings about that. On one hand, it’s just more pressure to perform his role, something he doesn’t like to do when he’s out of the public eye, but on the other, he preens surreptitiously under Eren’s adoration. Eren’s attention means something.
It’s probably because Eren’s not going to die- because Eren will remember and continue to care.
And that’s why Levi never lays a hand on him.
When Levi dies, it will crush Eren, and he knows that blow will only fall heavier if he allows himself to trespass across that line of intimacy.
He should allow Eren a longer leash, allow him to work through the worst of his infatuation to lessen the blow.
Levi might not be a cruel man, but that doesn’t mean he’s a good one.
He’s never pretended to be a saint.
He compromises with himself by never touching but always keeping near.
It’s not hard to abstain- after the things he’s seen, the urge has lessened. He’s never made the mistake of becoming intimate with a squad member, but it doesn’t matter. He’s heard them fuck and he’s seen them die. That’s enough to tie the two together.
He toys with Eren’s longing by simple proximity alone, and he knows that Eren wants him so badly that it’s become a little fanatical.
Everything the kid does is fanatical anyway, he reasons. It’s not just him.
He’s not sentimental enough to wish that he lived in another world, had another life in another mind that didn’t wake thinking about never waking again, but he is sullen enough to wish that he was a bigger bastard.
He’s not a cruel man.
He wishes he was.
A crueler man could lay hands on Eren Jaeger, even knowing he was going to die tomorrow.
Levi just makes do with his attention.