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“This was a terrible idea, Levi.” I’m giving him a look that I am positive displays every ounce of my anger, attempting to see through him with my narrowed glare. Scoffing, he rolls his eyes, tightening the grip around my hand, which is ‘fucking disgusting’ according to the asshole attached to me. But I can’t control my overactive sweat glands, and anyway, his dealing with my defective body functions hardly seems like an adequate payment for what I am enduring.
“Not sure if you’ve realized, but I’m not exactly enjoying this either.” His gaze specifically directs to our interlocked hands, which are obviously still bothering him. “The sooner you shut up and cooperate, the sooner we can get the fuck out of here.” He is making the rouse sound like a kidnapping… which actually doesn’t seem that far off base considering I was practically dragged here kicking and screaming. Well, okay, that’s a lie, because the free alcohol did seem pretty tempting. But that was when I thought there was free alcohol, not this fruit punch bullshit. I mean, honestly, who serves fruit punch at a gala?
My free hand clenches into a fist as I attempt to refuse the urge to shove the asshole face first into the bowl of totally-not-alcohol-you-lying-little-bastard. Hell, maybe I’m wrong and this party is just like senior prom, and someone has secretly spiked the punch. Looking out into the dance floor gives me my answer as I notice a huge crowd swinging along to the beat of what sounds like my boiling point, because you would have to be drunk to dance to this audio travesty.
Thank God.
But then I remember that this is a party full of thirty-somethings who probably never get out of the office long enough to realize this music is complete garbage.
Goddammit.
I can’t think of one coherent reason as to why I agreed to this. And as I feel Levi glower at me, I realize it definitely wasn’t the company. The promise of alcohol? Probably, but I don’t even want to think about that ball of hot air anymore. Because as I watch some geriatric woman attempt to twerk, I decide that I really need that drink.
But we’re friends,right? Isn’t this something that pals, buddies, whatever the fuck you want to label it do? Even though ‘friends’ isn’t exactly the term I would use to describe our relationship. Acquaintances. Like Jean and me... without the physical altercations, because I know without a doubt that shortie over there could totally kick my ass. Hell, I was there when he knocked the shit out of the dumbass who tried to rob us on our way home from dinner. It was somewhere in between hearing the thief’s arm snap and seeing his blood paint the pavement that I vowed never to venture over to Levi’s dark side.
Truth be told, I think the man is just a manipulative bastard who is scared of people actually finding out how much of a lonely asshole he is. Actually, I know that is what it is. Because low and behold if the prick had to attend his company’s Christmas gala alone. I honestly don’t even know how we became friends- wait… acquaintances. He’s a big shot at some business whose name practically screams corporation overlord. And I’m just a part-time college student majoring in political science. Not exactly Thelma and Louise by any standards.
“If I knew you were just going to mope by the buffet, then I wouldn’t have even asked for you to come.” I think he has ‘ask’ confused with ‘demand’ considering his exact phrasing was: ‘Have any plans for the 17th? No? You do now.’ Yeah, those were definitely his words. He’s looking at me expectantly, free hand fiddling with the end of his coat jacket. And he looks… nervous? Why would he be nervous? It’s not like anyone is going to come socialize with him, because obviously, he is as friendly in the office as he is outside the workplace. I thought it was just the image he was shooting for, the ability to give all of his coworkers the knowledge of knowing that someone could find him bearable for longer than twenty-four hours. And that seemed to be working perfectly with both of us hanging out by the buffet table and the three hundred pound man who, oh my god, just used his fingers to scoop out a handful of chocolate pudding.
Christ, for once I’m glad I took Levi’s advice in not sampling from the wide selection of finger foods… which isn’t pudding, but I think the company just thought that having mini sandwiches on the buffet menu gave them the right to classify all foods as utensil-independent.
“I didn’t have a choice.” I speak to him between clenched teeth, my hand tightening instinctively around his. Levi waits until my nails are digging angry crescents into his pale flesh to yank the assaulted appendage away.
“And I didn’t force you here, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Crossing his arms against his chest, the man practically radiates passive aggression. A narrowed gaze only adds to the fire as silver begins to burn into me through a pair of dangerous slits. “The last time I checked, you are the one who decided to come, so don’t—” Levi doesn’t flinch as a firm hand lands on his shoulder, prompting the man to cease in his chastising.
“Ah, Levi, we didn’t think you’d show.” Said man’s already tapered gaze contracts further at me in an unsaid continuation to his speech as he turns to greet the man gripping at his shoulder.
A scoff emits from Levi’s lips as he rolls his eyes at the blonde man. “I always show, Erwin. I don’t see why this time would be any different.” Erwin chuckles, the laugh deep and booming as he brings his hand down to pat Levi’s back.
“You have company this time.” And suddenly his eyes are on me, Levi’s included. The shorter man is giving me a look that is daring me to fuck this up, while the other is soft and caring, a stark contrast to the silent hellfire I’m facing under Levi’s glare. “Levi’s told us a lot about you.” Wait, what? “You must be Eren. I’m Erwin Smith, your charming partner’s boss.” Levi’s lip curls at the prod, and I decide that I already like this big, blonde man. He extends a hand, which I, almost too eagerly, take into my own. Erwin’s handshake is just as strong as I expected, making my grip feel like a wet fish underneath his palm.
“Y-yes… he’s a practical Casanova, heh.” Erwin’s lips pull into a smile that seems far more knowing than it’s letting on. With the grin, he releases my hand, allowing the appendage to drop limply at my side.
“So, how long have the two of you been together?” And I take back what I said about liking this man, because he’s playing with us, shooting the question off into ambiguity to see which one of us falls for the trick. It probably would have helped for Levi and me to have had a game plan before diving headfirst into these shark infested waters, but I don’t think that either of us expected to be cornered by the calculating blonde. Shit, Levi probably thought everyone would leave him to his solitary as per usual… which makes me feel a little guilty for mocking the man’s loneliness. It’s not like he can help that his social skills don’t branch further than a vulgar shit joke. Well, he probably can help it but chooses not to. So, should I really feel guilty, then, if he is willingly choosing this life of solitude? Maybe that’s what he likes, the quiet stillness of one’s own company. But he’s never seemed bothered by my presence… okay, maybe he’s been a little bothered… okay, a lot… but he is perfectly cordial with Mikasa and Armin when my sister’s not attempting to throttle him for his ever eloquent prodding. Either way, the thought has left an unsettling feeling in my gut that I already want to purge. But I remember that Erwin is waiting on an answer, and the longer I delay in giving it to him the more suspicion I draw.
“Three weeks.”
“Four months.”
There is an awkward silence that settles in the air as both of our answers become jumbled together. Eyes wide, I turn a frantic glance towards Levi, because I am ninety-nine percent sure that our cover has been blown. But the man has already recovered from the blunder, throat clearing as he tries to start again, “Four months, right, honey?” The pet name makes me scrunch my nose up in disgust. It sounds so forced and unnatural coming from Levi’s lips, and I am hoping that my look of unease will convince him not to use the label again.
Erwin clears his throat, and I notice that my silence is not necessarily helping our bid for ‘Couple of the Year’. “Oh, uh, right… it just seems like three weeks, because the… uh time’s gone by so fast.” And goddammit, I don’t think I could have butchered that delivery any worse. The reply didn’t even make any sense, and that’s obvious based on the thick eyebrow Erwin now has curiously raised.
“The idiot was dropped on his head as a child. You can’t listen to anything he says, Erwin.” And okay, fuck you, asshole. For the record, that was only one time, and my mom told me that it hadn’t even been that far of a fall. I bristle beside the short prick, fisted hands delving into the pockets of my pants in order to try and prevent my anger from making itself visible. Which I’m probably not doing a very good job at considering I can feel the tightness of my jaw and the heat emitting off my face.
“Are you alright, Eren?” I’m not sure if I appreciate Blondie’s concern, given that it’s probably all just the basis of some ulterior motive. But, regardless, I’m done preforming in this little game. Levi can find someone else to play fake boyfriend with, someone who can deal with the bastard’s prodding. Because that person definitely isn’t me.
“No.” I go to leave the pair, anger already deciding for me that the charade is up. But I have not even fully turned to exit before a strong hand is gripping my upper arm. His face is hardened with an impassive annoyance, lips in a tight line and a thick vein pulsating in his neck; which, by the way, can’t be healthy.
“Eren, I need to speak to you. Alone.” The tone in his voice sounds final and not up for discussion. But, of course, I open my mouth, nonetheless. He’s cutting me off before the words of retort have even left my lips. “Now.” I don’t even have time to put up a decent fight as he drags me towards the direction of the bathroom, fingers digging into my upper arm in an angry vice. Grabbing the handle of the lavatory door, Levi tosses me inside as soon as the entrance is open.
There is an eerie silence that settles on us as I wait for him to speak, absentmindedly rubbing over the skin that surely has his fingermarks tattooed on it. We sit in the stillness for what seems like hours, Levi staring at me from across the bathroom while I teeter awkwardly under the intensity of his glare. I’m about to speak up and interrupt the uncomfortable silence when the man clears his throat. “If you want to leave, I understand.” There’s a softness in his gaze that I’ve never seen before, an acceptance that I thought had long been shoved under the mat. “I’ll just… I’ll just tell Erwin that you weren’t feeling well.”
He drops his stare to the floor before releasing a deep sigh, hand coming up to muss the delicate part of his hair as the fingers run through the dark locks. All the anger that I had previously been holding against Levi seems to dissipate with the display, the man’s stature growing increasingly dismal with each passing second. And I feel bad… I shouldn’t feel bad, should I? This is the asshole who just blatantly insulted me in front of Mr. Deep Pockets out there. I should be mad, irate that the prick had the audacity to disrespect the person who had, grudgingly, agreed to help him.
But I’m obviously the world’s biggest pushover, because before I can convince myself otherwise, I’ve weaseled my fingers back in between Levi’s. His eyes abandon their plight of staring a hole in the floor in order to meet my gaze. I’ve never been able to surprise Levi, the man always seeming three steps ahead of me. But the confused expression plastered across his face now has me adding a mark to my score column. Eyebrows pinched and lips parted, he looks as though he’s about to question my change of heart, because just minutes prior I was the one practically mewling at the thought of staying here any longer. I guess I’ve just had an epiphany, or maybe I just decided to be a decent friend for once, who knows.
“C’mon,” I tug on his hand, head nodding towards the bathroom door, “let’s give these assholes a show, hmm?” Levi’s face still has that inquiring appearance, but attached is also a hint of thankfulness, of gratitude. And I recognize that he would never audibly admit it, but deep down I know that he is grateful for my cooperation. However, I still don’t understand why this is such a big deal to the man. Levi has never rubbed me as someone who gave two shits about what people thought, especially concerning relationship statuses.
“This music is fucking terrible.” This must be Levi’s version of small talk, making fun of the overzealous pop numbers that are continuously spewing out of the speakers above. But, shit, that’s totally fine with me.
“Let me guess,” a chuckle bubbles up in my throat at the man’s grimace as a particularly high note shrieks through the air, “you’d be fine with some Sinatra and black tea, hmm?” The question causes him to give my hand a warning squeeze, two of his favorite things being put on the stand.
“Don’t shit on Sinatra, asshole.” He looks at me warily as I rein back in my laughter, not really in the mood to face the wrath that usually comes when Levi hears foul words about the singer.
I’ve never been good at controlling the thoughts on my mind, usually letting the questions spill out audibly for better or worse. Tonight is definitely no exception as I try to mask my giggling with an inquiry. “Why do you even care about this?” The air immediately goes tense, the man’s hand becoming rigid around my own.
I’m expecting another snarky reply, this one probably laced with a little more venom. But he doesn’t even falter as we continue to immerse ourselves back into the crowd of sober screwballs, trying to avoid getting hit with flinging limbs. “I have my reasons.” I’m about to question him further, when suddenly, he stiffens; his hand tightening around mine. I conclude that all of those reasons are headed our way as Levi stares at the lanky man swaggering over in our direction. Glancing at me from the corner of his eye, he starts, “Let me do the talking. You just stand there and look… uh, pretty.” Looking pretty wasn’t necessarily something that I considered one of my strengths, but as a pale hand wraps around my waist, I decide that looking flustered will probably blow over just as well.
“Surprise seeing you here, Ackerman.” The man’s beady eyes give me a once over, making me feel exposed and slightly repulsed. “And with company.” A thin mustache rises as the man pulls his lips up into a smirk. “How much he pay you, kid?” The question is apparently doubling as a joke if the Disney villain wannabe’s muffled laughter is any sign. I feel the arm tighten around my waist as Levi’s seemingly impassive face twists with a slight vision of anger.
There’s a sudden bubbling in my gut that is trying to goad my clenched fist into connecting with the man’s sharp jaw. Because one, I’m twenty-two fucking years old. Two, fuck this asshole. Levi may not have the greatest personality in the world… okay, that may or may not be a really big understatement … but what gives Pencil Stache the right to openly mock his unapproachability? Hell, I haven’t been around this man for thirty seconds, and I would choose Levi’s impassive bluntness over this prick’s raging ego any day.
“I’m at every one of these corporate pig baths, Nile. You just spend too much time with your head up your ass to notice.” My former rage melts into an unabashed amusement, a previously clenched fist flying over my mouth to mute the upcoming laughter. I don’t do a very good job if Nile’s irritated glare is anything to go by.
“That still doesn’t explain why you have a prepubescent as an escort.” The giggle dies in my throat at the man’s words, being replaced with an irritation that I had thought long gone. My mind isn’t even allowed the courtesy to process the consequences of my actions before I’m nose to nose with the arrogant prick.
“Look, asshole, if you say one more thing to my boyfriend, I swear to god, that sad excuse for facial hair isn’t going to be the only thing you have to worry about. You’re obviously still sleeping on your parents’ couch, and you won’t be leaving anytime soon if you don’t learn some goddamn manners. So, do yourself a favor, and back the fuck off.” Nile’s mouth has dropped open in unsightly surprise, eyes widened in a further display of disbelief.
I turn back to Levi, who has his lip curled in a sinful smirk. Letting out a proud huff and readjusting the collar of my suit, I walk back over to the man’s side, appropriately grasping for his hand once he is within my reach. Levi seems content to just continue on with the rest of the night in phony lover paradise, obviously satisfied by the red stain tainting Nile’s cheeks.
But I’m not.
Turning my head, I decide that I haven’t added the cherry to this sundae. And to be honest, I’ve always had a sweet tooth. “And your mustache is stupid.” As far as insults go, that wasn’t a very good one, but as Levi squeezes around my hand, I find that I really don’t care.
---
“I thought that was just a onetime thing?” The huff that echoes through the speaker of the phone pressed to my ear sounds so textbook Levi that it is almost painful. I can practically see that furrowed brow twitching as he allows my question sink in, unable to visibly force me into submission with a glare. I should probably take pity on him, considering that it usually takes an emergency for the man to give me a call. But having Levi under my thumb for once is just too tempting to resist.
“It was a onetime thing.” The insult following the curt reply is mumbled into the phone, Levi obviously trying to curb his personality enough to win my approval. But unfortunately for the man, I’ve had him pinned since his name flashed on my caller id. “Now, it’s a two time thing.” I scoff into the receiver, pulling a sturdy shoulder up to cradle the phone against my ear. Fixing eggs and simultaneously talking on the device was probably not the best decision I could have made, but if Levi thinks for one second that I’m burning my breakfast over his midlife crisis then he’s sadly mistaken.
“I still don’t get why you care. It’s a private party. That lanky asshole won’t even be there.” There’s a silence settling on the other line that tells me I’ve got him cornered. He is probably not used to this, the man who is always able to unleash that unyielding gaze when he runs out of things to say. And now he’s just staring into the open air, undoubtedly narrowing his eyes at an invisible Eren Jaeger.
“Do you really think I would be proposing this if I thought he wouldn’t be there?” The impassive tone in his voice gives nothing away as I try to find a crack in his hypothetical armor. Seconds pass before a short, chipped cough sounds in my ear, reminding me that Levi’s probably waiting on my most likely inarticulate response.
“Do you want the truth or some more bullshit?” I don’t mean to be harsh with the man, but this is getting a little ridiculous. And in the back of my mind, I can’t help but feel like impressing Nile isn’t the only reason why Levi is asking for my presence again.
“Stop being a little shit, Eren.” The chipped tone he’s taking with me says that I’ve struck a nerve, a sensitive one at that. Well, good. I’m sick of being a pawn in some weird game of chess that I really only agreed to play under the assumptions of free goddamn alcohol. But as he huffs dejectedly into the microphone, I realize that the promise of liquor wasn’t actually my only reason behind the acceptance. Because Levi’s my friend, and… and that’s what friends do, right? Pretend to date each other for the greater good. Okay, that’s probably not what normal friends do, but to be honest, I’d never categorized the relationship between Levi and me as anything close to the word.
“All I’m saying is that someone is going to find out if you keep this up.” It was an honest concern, because our charade had to reach a boiling point some time or another.
“I’ll just tell them that I broke it off after Christmas.”
I snort, not quite surprised with his keen response. It’s so very Levi, and I really wouldn’t expect anything different from the man. “Wow, dumping me after Christmas. Such a winner. Santa must have you on his naughty list.”
“I’m going to show you exactly why I’m on that list if you don’t cut the shit.” I’m not sure if Levi’s still talking, because to be honest, I stopped listening after the innuendo bled into my eardrums. My heart skips a beat as I run the sentence over in my mind, and maybe I need to go to the doctor. Because there is no way I’m getting butterflies thinking about that asshole on the other line. My chest renters the bizarre limbo as I hear the man clear his throat through the speaker. And I am definitely scheduling that appointment, because these heart palpitations can’t be normal. “You know what I meant, Eren.”
The awkward reply grabs any fleeing uncomfortable feeling and straps it down back across my body. “Uh… sure." The sound of the eggs sizzling in the pan is the only thing I hear for the next few agonizingly painful seconds. Clearing my throat, I attempt to prompt the man on the other line to break the silence, because I’m terrible at dealing with anything awkward and, more often than not, I just make it worse. But, obviously, Levi decided to take to heart the time I told him he would make a great mime.
“So… the weather is really nice today.” And goddammit. Maybe there was a little glimmer of hope in the back of my mind that my gene of impromptu word vomit had disappeared, but the asshole has decided to rear its ugly head, shoving itself in my face with the clumsy string of words I just spewed. The almost silent hum I receive in response only furthers my mortification. “Yeah… it’s really- SHIT! GODDAMMIT! MOTHERFUCKER!”
I knew it was going to come down to Levi or the eggs. I fucking knew it. And the chicken embryos obviously didn’t take too kindly to my attempt at trying to balance the two; the eggs spattered across the tiled kitchen floor like some fowl martyrdom.
“Are you okay?” There is a hint of something over-passing that typical stoicism of Levi’s voice as he speaks through the speaker. “Don’t tell me I need to call 911. If you’re about to be murdered, say yellow.”
“No, no, I’m fine. The only thing murdered was my breakfast… shit.” The eggs are mocking me on the ground, flaunting their precooked deliciousness on a floor that is in no way deserving of the savory flavors. I knew I should have made bacon. Like I knew I should have hung up on Levi, but here I am, still talking to the asshole. God, maybe this is some divine intervention in the form of a ruined breakfast, silently telling me that I should drop being friends with Levi before something bigger than a couple of eggs is harmed. But that sounds way too cryptic for someone like me who doesn’t even read his weekly horoscope.
“So, the 23rd? I know you don’t have any better plans.” I wish I could deny his statement, but the man knows that Mikasa and Armin are visiting family back in our old hometown. Levi’s a sneaky sonofabitch, that’s for sure.
I let out a sigh that already knows I’m defeated. “Last time?”
Levi releases a deep breath that he’s probably been holding since he first asked the question. And instead of the typical coldness that always seems to lace the man’s statements, this sounds different, sounds content.
“Last time.”
---
The apartment building we had shuffled into is definitely… different in the terms of decorations compared to the company gala. Where the high class social event was adorned minimally, a few crystal snowflakes here, a couple of silver orbs there… this apartment looks as if Santa just took a massive holiday shit on everything in clear view. Plastic reindeer are taped to the walls, multicolored streamers are dangling haphazardly from the ceiling, and a tacky Christmas tree is leaning sideways in the middle of the room, complete with a lawn gnome Santa on top. I really don’t think anything Levi said could have prepared me for the apocalyptic mess of Christmas propaganda, and he did tell me that this apartment could make a trash heap look good… which was a little harsh, but honesty is the best policy.
“God, you weren’t kidding.” My eyes have become glued to the Pin the Tail on Rudolph that is staring at me from across the room.
“Just wait until you meet the owner. You think this is bizarre—”
“LEVI!” Barreling towards us is a woman sporting a light up Christmas sweater, brown ponytail swinging as she races to meet us. “Levi, you crafty sonofabitch!” Before I know it, she has the man lifted into the bear hug from Hell, tightening her grip around his arms as to prevent escape.
“Hanji, let me go, goddammit!” He turns his head to meet my amused gaze, silently begging for assistance in freedom from the woman. But seeing Levi manhandled like a small child isn’t something I get to witness every day, and unfortunately for the man, the sight is just too entertaining to put on hold just yet.
“But you never come and see me anymore. If I let you go, you might not come back.” She’s pressing her cheek into Levi’s collarbone, swinging him side to side in midair.
Yeah, definitely not going to stop this.
“I was here three days ago, you abnormal piece of shit!” Somehow, Levi has managed to free one of his arms, pressing a firm palm into the side of Hanji’s face. And this woman must be a lot stronger than she appears, or maybe she’s just got a godsend determination. Because he has both of his arms free now, pushing into Hanji in some desperate attempt at freedom. He shoots me another glance, this one looking a lot more threatening than the previous one. It sends a chill up my spine, and I decide that a pissed off Levi is not something that I necessarily want to deal with for the next couple of hours. Reaching to pull him free of the woman’s grasp, I realize that my assistance will not even be required, given that she has promptly dropped the man back onto the floor.
“Levi, you didn’t tell me you were bringing company!” And before I know it, I am being pulled into the same death grip that Levi just escaped. Against my better judgment, I turn to the man with an expression of pleading flooding my eyes. Karma must be a bitch, because Levi’s looking at me with most self-satisfying smirk I’ve ever seen grace the man’s features. Fucking asshole. Thankfully, Hanji decides that prolonged bear hugs are only for people who she’s known longer than thirty seconds. “Such a cutie, too!”
Levi hums, hand moving to the small of my back. “I should have probably warned you that ‘Hanji’ and ‘personal space’ don’t necessarily go together.” The woman makes a plea to defend her insanity, but the sounds coming out of her mouth are muted against the fingers fiddling with the hem of my jacket. There is a fluttering in my stomach as he quests underneath the thick winter coat, fingers tracing against the thin flannel shirt, the only barrier between his wandering appendages and my bare skin. I catch him staring at me out of the corner of my eye, obviously paying as much attention to Hanji as I am. That silver gaze is piercing me, forcing my head to turn and clash greens with greys.
My breath hitches in my throat.
Not because that stare is slowly breaking down all my defenses. Not because I’m just now realizing the specks of blue that decorate Levi’s eyes. And, god, definitely not because I had no idea how good Levi looks when he pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth. No, it’s because those fingers have maneuvered underneath a flannel shirt that really didn’t stand a chance against the insistent appendages.
I should probably push his hand away, because this is stepping over quite a few unspoken boundaries of ‘fake dating’. But I do the exact opposite, leaning into his touch as his fingers delicately trace the smooth skin. Spurred on by my apparent approval, Levi begins to grow more daring as he starts to follow the contour of my spine with his maddening touch. That fluttering in my stomach has turned into an erratic pounding of my heart that is echoing in my eardrums, pulsating as if the rest of the world is nothing but a muffled background.
“Right, Levi?” Hanji’s locked a strong grip around the man’s shoulder, pulling his stare off me and back to the woman whose sweater is currently preforming a light show of ‘Jingle Bells’. Another appropriate hum spills from his lips, an ambiguous answer to an unknown question. The man’s smarter than I give him credit for. “Well, we’ve got Santa with Muscles playing in the living room.” My eyebrow rises at the title, shooting the woman an incredulous look, because that movie is absolutely terrible. “Gotta love the classics, eh?” Well, apparently not to Hanji. “The rest of the gang’s watching the movie, so just make yourselves at home, take a Jello shot, merry fucking Christmas, right?”
“Merry fucking Christmas.” Levi shrugs her off his shoulder as he takes my hand and leads me to the living room. A tray of red and green Jello shots catch my eye as I’m dragged into a surefire Christmas movie hell. And it may be a little soon to be making assumptions on if having Hanji as a friend is the sanest choice I’ve ever made, but at least she doesn’t lie about her alcohol supply. Okay, maybe I’m still a little bitter about that. But soon the tray of solidified liquor is put out of my mind as Levi pulls me into the small living room.
I immediately recognize Erwin, the hulking man looking a little ridiculous as he tries to fit in the tiny armchair. The identity of the other attendees, however, is a mystery. Four of them are smashed together on a couch that should really only seat two. Another is sitting nonchalantly on the floor; head resting against the armchair Erwin is still trying to manage to look comfortable in. The man on the ground spots us first, which is actually a little bizarre considering his eyes are still glued to the mockery that is Santa’s Muscles.
“You’re early, Levi.” The man’s statement prompts the others to turn their heads towards our arrival, gifting us with multiple smiles and one scowl. The hand wrapped around mine tightens as Levi tugs me further into the living room, stopping to take a seat on the floor in front of the cramped couch.
“You know I never miss Hanji’s Christmas Shitlist.” He jerks me down beside him, still holding my fingers captive between his. And it’s weird, because this whole… thing is supposed to be for show, right? It’s not real; the looks he’s been shooting me ever since he picked me up from my piece of shit apartment, the caresses his thumb has been making against the back of my hand. It’s not real. Levi’s hand squeezes mine once more as we brush shoulders.
It’s not real.
“So are you going to introduce us, Levi?” A man sitting on the arm of the couch is looking at us expectantly, eyes darting down to our linked hands. I instinctively try to pry myself from his grasp, the embarrassment quickly working its way into my cheeks. But Levi’s grip is sturdy, hand not providing me any slack. The movie pauses, and I look over to see no one other than that smug bastard, Erwin fucking Smith, twirling the remote in between his fingers.
The silence is deafening, and starting to turn awkward, but Levi’s already clearing his throat. “Assholes, this is Eren. Eren, these are assholes. Now, restart the movie.” The man behind Levi scoffs, obviously not giving up on his plight just yet.
“It’s good to meet you, Eren.” He extends a hand down to me, stating his name, Gunther, when our palms clasp. I go down the line, turning to shake hands with the group, Erd, Petra, and Auruo, who seemingly tries to discontinue my blood flow with the strength he uses during the grasp. Then, there is Mike who offers me a nod with a scrunch of his nose as he leans back into Erwin’s armchair. It’s a unique group, that’s for sure. With Petra and Auruo bickering relentlessly behind me about who should be in charge of baking the gingerbread cookies, Gunter and Erd brashly picking apart every terrible sequence of the atrocity on screen, and Mike silently nudging against Erwin’s knee with a bearded cheek.
It’s nice.
Even when Hanji storms in brandishing spiked eggnog, I can’t help but feel like this is somewhere I belong. Somewhere I am wanted. That, even without Levi present, these people would welcome me back with open arms. Okay, maybe not Auruo, but Petra would surely guilt trip him long enough to come around. Fingers I had long forgotten begin to absentmindedly trace against the underside of my wrist. It sends shivers up my spine, and I start to wonder how far Levi is planning to take this.
‘Last time?’
‘Last time.’
I go to pull my arm away, because it doesn’t feel right anymore. Well, it never felt right. Except, wait. It did. Sitting here surrounded by his friends. Basking in the laughter like I was one of their own. My hand resting atop his knee.
My hand resting atop his knee.
It’s like I’ve been physically seared the way I fly backwards from his body, earning a raised eyebrow and a look of confusion from the man. I’ve never been graceful, and this stint doesn’t happen to offer me exclusion, rolling backwards until the tops of my knees are resting awkwardly beside my head.
“Uh… are you okay, Eren?” I hear Petra’s voice echo in the silence, the woman probably getting a good view of my ass given it’s sticking high up in the air. There’s a myriad of muffled snickers that are attempting to ensure my well-being before giggling at my clumsiness. Well, it’s a shitty attempt, because Auruo is already laughing aloud, prompting the others to do the same.
“I’m…uh…” Any attempt to recover my pride flew out the window along with my inability to finish the simple sentence. Suddenly, a pair of hands is grabbing a hold of my shoulders, flipping me back into a hard chest. A very familiar, hard chest. I steady my breathing as my head slowly upturns to meet my savior. He’s staring at me through those silver eyes that are making my heart pick up to mach speed. “… fine.” I’m expecting him to let me go, maybe even push me away considering I almost blew our cover.
But he doesn’t.
Pulling me further into his chest, he drags us back to the front of the couch, allowing my head to rest easily against his shoulder. I can’t find it in myself to pull away again— no I don’t want to pull away. This isn’t in the bounds of fake dating, is it? Allowing your insignificant other to peacefully drift off into a content oblivion on your shoulder? No, this is beyond those contractual requirements. This is… something more. And it lights up that fuzzy feeling trapped deep down inside my gut as I nuzzle further into Levi.
The man’s fingers stealthily begin to drift upwards into my hair, twirling around the brunet locks while he continues to torture himself with this horrible movie. It’s so nonchalant, so domestic, that it almost convinces me that we are actually together.
But we’re not.
This is an act, right? But, to be honest, I’m not even sure who the audience is anymore. Obviously, Nile didn’t spontaneously crash the party, and I doubt that Levi’s close friends care one way or the other if he prefers the bachelor life. So, who is this for? What is this show of affection gaining? The feeling in my gut quickly turns to anxiety, because I feel like I’ve been played, but I don’t have the proper evidence to call the bastard out. I feel like… like this is just some joke. Something that the man will pull out later to tell all of my friends. Tell them how quickly Eren Jaeger fell for the asshole with the personality of gold. Wait, fallen? I haven’t— have I? Shit, it’s been what? A week? Two weeks? And I’m going to be undone by some subtle touches and fancy words, things that probably mean absolutely nothing to Levi? Hell no, I—
“Look who’s under the mistletoe!” My internal questioning is brought to an abrupt halt by Hanji’s screeching. And shit. The woman’s anything but a liar, that’s for sure, the fucking mistletoe hanging right over mine and Levi’s heads. “C’mon, it’s a Christmas tradition!”
“Christmas can go fuck itself.” For once, I agree with the man, because kissing Levi is probably the last thing I want to do. Well, okay, that’s a partial lie, since mere minutes ago I would have probably been up for doing a lot more than just smacking lips with the man. But that was before I experienced the existential epiphany that comes with the burden of fake dating. Because we are friends. Just friends. And friends don’t kiss friends… well, there was that one time where Armin and I were really— wait, no. Friends don’t kiss friends. This is like some sacred rule of companionship, and you get one fuckup, one freebie; I used my pass when I drunkenly tongue-tied myself with that blonde coconut.
“You just have some deep rooted hatred against the holiday because it’s on your birthday. Don’t lie. I know your parents didn’t buy you two sets of presents.” The muttered curses are an answer enough to Hanji’s accusation, causing a smirk to pull at my lips from Levi’s expletives. “C’mon, lover boys, kissy kissy!” The man’s quiet rage had distracted me from the fact that the damn mistletoe is still swinging precariously over our heads. Hanji looks expectant, and I haven’t even known her a full hour to realize that she doesn’t take no for an answer. The deep sigh emitting from Levi’s lips says that he realizes this as well.
The fingers that were previously meandering through my hair slowly drop until they are delicately running down my reddened cheeks. And holy shit, this is happening. Greens meet greys, both of us saying so much through the glance. So little. His gaze starts to dart from my widened eyes to the parted lips splayed against my face. This is happening. Back and forth his stare drifts, giving me plenty of time to back out, to throw the act in one grand exit. But I’m not leaving. His bottom lip has been pulled between a set of immaculate, white teeth, the act reminding me how incredibly gorgeous this man is. Gorgeous, huh? Those fingers have drifted down to my chin, softly upturning my face in order to ease the slant of our lips. Yeah, gorgeous. Those eyes finally decide to settle on my lips, trembling in the shadow of the upcoming action. Friends don’t kiss friends, Eren. His head starts to lower, but I decide to meet him halfway.
We’re not really friends, though… more like acquaintances.
It’s not what I had anticipated, but then again, I’ve never really imagined kissing Levi; so I guess I didn’t have any expectations. It’s clumsy, Levi not knowing whether to keep his fingers on my chin or to move them back into my hair. And I’m glad he really doesn’t know what he’s doing, because neither do I, timidly moving my lips against his in what I’m hoping is a decent kiss. But contrary to what the description provides, the meeting is amazing, electric. And I find myself silently lamenting that I’ll never be able to discover this feeling again. That texture of his lips, chapped from the winter chill, grazing against my soft ones, peppering me with chaste kisses that are so shy and awkward. The gawky bumping of our noses as we each try, and fail, to predict the other’s next move. But it’s perfect, causing those previously forgotten butterflies to flutter in my gut with a vengeance worthy of a wife scorned.
“Goddamn, you guys must be crazy in bed.” I guess that I was sort of hoping that such a kiss would have an equally satisfying ending, but to be honest, I stopped believing in hope when I discovered that the old guy in the mall wasn’t really Santa Claus. Hanji’s words cause me to fumble, breath catching in my throat as I disconnect from Levi with a harsh hack. Levi’s hands drop away from me, and for the first time tonight, I’m left without his touch. Which probably shouldn’t feel as daunting as it does.
Burying my face in a pair of sweaty palms, I attempt to cover the embarrassment now visible on my face. A same embarrassment that is also dusting Levi’s cheeks with a hint of pink.
“I will set you on fire, Shitty Glasses, I swear to god. It probably wouldn’t be that hard with the fire hazard you’re wearing.” The threat doesn’t deter the woman, who merely widens the already manic smile across her face. Her sweater sets itself off as she leans in closer, ‘Jingle Bells’ once again filling the airways. “Jesus Christ, Hanji, take that thing off.”
Levi’s annoyance merely encourages the woman as she runs her fingers over the tacky apparel. “Why? It’s Christmas, I’m just celebrating the season. Speaking of which, where’s yours? Don’t tell me you lost it. That took me forever to find one that sang ‘You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.’” I can’t help the giggle the spurs from my lips at the image of Levi wearing one of the gaudy sweaters, especially with that song attached. But Levi pays no mind to my laughter, already unleashing the barb that’s no doubt been sitting on the tip of his tongue ever since we were graced with the opening hymn of the Christmas classic.
“I burned it. Which is what you should do with yours.”
Erwin’s laugh booms throughout the tiny room, “He does have a point, Hanji. It is a little… obnoxious.”
“Festive, Erwin, festive.” The man apparently doesn’t agree with her claim, bringing his forehead into a large palm. “Sheesh, you people are all a bunch of Scrooges.” Regardless of the multitude of complaints, Hanji refuses to take off the sweater, eventually forcing me to drown out the iconic tune until it became nothing but a numbing melody playing in the back of my mind. And besides the endless drone of ‘Jingle Bells’, the night has converted itself back into a peaceful sense of content.
A blanket has long since been draped across mine and Levi’s slouched frames, the man steadily drifting off to a relaxed stupor against my shoulder. Along with the introduction of warm, quilted covers has come a quiet stillness in the room, many of the group falling asleep before the credits have even rolled. I had thought that Levi and I were the sole survivors of this Christmas disaster, but I soon hear the telltale signs of slumber emitting from the man. My fingers sweep through the black fringe layered across his forehead, daring the tease the strip of pale flesh as I move. It earns me a pleasing hum and an increasingly numbed shoulder as Levi burrows further into me. He looks so peaceful like this, like all of his problems are miles away. The permanent furrow of his brow has lifted, opening the gates to the serene display casting over his features, making his already youthful face look years younger.
“He really likes you, you know?” I look up to see Hanji staring at me from across the room, still wearing that damn Christmas sweater like some form of silent passive aggression. And wait. Greens drop from Hanji’s face to my fingers that are still weaving through Levi’s hair. But… but it’s not real. “I’ve never seen him like that.” Her voice calls my attention once more, only to find her watching Levi nuzzle deeper into my shoulder. “So happy.” But it’s not real. And, suddenly, that feeling of butterflies returns into an anxious wave that is threatening to cease my breathing as I look over Levi’s sleeping form. I need to get out. I need to go home. “Eren, are you okay?” I’m subconsciously aware of the way that my entire body has stiffened. Of the way that I’m carefully trying to remove Levi from my shoulder. Of the way that I delicately pull my body free from him. Of the way his fingers instinctively dig into the front my flannel shirt. Of the way I have to gently pry him off me and onto the floor. Of the way my voice trembles as I tell Hanji that I’m sorry, but I have to leave. Of the way the door shuts as I step back into the winter chill. Of the way that chill reminds me of his lips. Of the way those lips remind me of his kiss.
Of the way it all reminds me of him.
Of Levi.
---
I gave up trying to get my hair to cooperate four brushstrokes ago. The comb has somehow only made the mop more muddled, pieces of brown sticking out in random directions. Sighing, I shove the good for nothing utensil into the bathroom drawer, banishing it to the lost city of bathroom appliance hell. Right where the motherfucker belongs.
I really should stop trying to tame it. The hair is part of my charm, or at least that’s what Armin always tells me. Even though there’s a good chance that he was just trying to make me feel better about my uncontrollable mane. Probably. I reside to just put on my nicest dress shirt as a silent ‘I’m sorry that I look like Tarzan, please don’t be too offended’.
Digging through the clusterfuck that is my closet, I finally find the shirt: pristine, blue, and totally not Eren Jaeger. But Mikasa has never really had a knack for fashion, so it shouldn’t have surprised me when she happily handed this over last Christmas. It is the thought that counts… even if the thought cost her forty bucks on a shirt that I hardly have a use for.
Dragging the button-up off its hanger, I hastily begin to pull it over my arms. I keep telling myself that tonight will be nice, that the guy who picked up my number from a cheesy pickup line isn’t a skeezebag, and that I am going to have a great time tonight. Hey, if worse comes to worse, at least this is going to be real.
Well, I really didn’t wake up planning to lowball myself, but here we are.
Taking a deep breath, I finish buttoning up the shirt that will probably not be enough of an excuse as to why everything else about me is screaming that I’d rather be home. Because, unfortunately for Jim?… James?… Jesse?… I would rather spend the remainder of the evening cuddled up on my couch watching cheesy Lifetime movies and eating that flavor of Ben and Jerry’s that would taste delicious even if it wasn’t consumed under such circumstances.
But I’m doing this. I’m getting out, because I need to know what it feels like. What it means for something to be real. Then maybe I can call Levi and explain why I hitched a taxi back home. Why I left him lying against a decade old couch underneath the lights of Santa’s Muscles.
It wasn’t real.
Closing my eyes, I tell myself that Levi understood why I left. That when he woke up and I was gone, he knew the reasoning behind it. But that’s probably a long shot, because while Levi is usually three steps ahead of me, he’s not a mind reader. And you would almost have to be one to comprehend my abrupt departure. But it wasn’t…real, right? Still trying to convince yourself that, huh? I really don’t have much on the list of things I plan to do today, and I’m positive arguing with my conscience isn’t one of them.
But those late night dinners at Sina’s were real. Those midnight rants that surely kept him from attaining enough sleep were real. Those study sessions he gave you, even though ‘political science is going to get you nowhere’, were real. Being his friend was real. So, why not this? Why can’t this be real, Eren?
The sigh that comes out of my mouth is the textbook definition of conflicted, and— shit. A glance down at my phone tells me that if I don’t leave within the next couple of minutes, I’ll be late. And, to be honest, I don’t really need to add tardiness to a disheveled appearance. Grabbing my phone and wrapping a thick scarf around my neck, I head to the door, but a sound stops me. Someone’s knocking? I’m ninety-nine percent sure that I didn’t give this guy my address, Mikasa’s abridged version of ‘stranger danger’ sticking with me ever since I accepted a ride home from some ambiguous man in a suit.
The knock echoes again, this time sounding much more desperate. “I’m coming.” And, shit, I’ve already broken rule one: do not let the possible murderer know you are home. I grab for the baseball bat leaning conveniently beside the front door as I reach for the handle. If I’m going to die, I’m going down swinging… heh, pun intended. Pulling the door open, bat in hand, I am expecting to meet the eyes of my murderer, and I think I might actually not be that far off base.
“Why did you leave?” Levi’s eyes are narrowed dangerously, foot tapping incessantly against the concrete below. My throat goes dry at the thought of having to answer him. Because I was scared. He probably will appreciate the truth, but that’s the thing about confrontations. They give you no way to properly prepare yourself, just throwing you immediately to the dogs and hoping you’ll learn to fight. It’s unfair, and in a way, I’m angry that Levi would force this on me. “So, what? You aren’t going to answer me in person, either?” His eyes dart down to the cellphone in my hand that contains at least ten unread messages from the man. “And put down the damn bat. You look ridiculous.”
He pushes past me and into my apartment, politely reminding me that Levi would make a terrible vampire. I drop the bat to its rightful place by the front door; not really looking forward to having to give him an answer that I’m sure isn’t ready yet.
“Why did you leave, Eren?” The question is the same, but it’s taken a different tone, a dejected tone. One that makes me want to rip this stupid heart out of my chest to stop it from pounding so relentlessly. His arms are crossed, fingers twiddling with the cotton shirt layered below his winter jacket.
“I… I have to go. You…” I wish I could tell him how I felt, explain to him that he did nothing wrong. Fuck, he did everything right. But I don’t want to risk it. I like Levi, and even though he is an asshole, I am not going to risk that friendship on a shot in the dark that maybe, maybe, he reciprocates my feelings. Because all of that was for show, wasn’t it?
“You’ve ignored me for three goddamn days, Eren. Now, I find you and suddenly you have to go? Fucking typical.” He sounds insulted, and to be honest, I don’t blame him. I’ve been a shitty friend these past few days, and I really don’t have a good excuse for my actions. Well, I do have one… it’s just not worth the breath of hot air.
“I have…” For a split second I contemplate standing up the man whose name begins with the letter ‘J’, the look Levi is wearing not really granting much room for escape. But I made a promise to myself that I would know what it felt like. To feel something real. Turning away from Levi, I make up mind as I grab the door handle. “I have a date… and I’m already going to be late so, I’ll call you later, okay?” It’s the most I’ve been able to get out since I’ve seen the man, but my success is short lived as I watch Levi’s face fall.
“What?” The previous anger he was swelling with has deflated into a melancholy that’s giving me second hand sadness. Fuck. My hand falls from the doorknob as he slowly begins to pull into himself, arms tightening around his chest. “What about our deal?”
“It wasn’t real, Levi.” There were a million other things I could have chosen to say, but I had to pick that sentence. The words that feel like a practical poison on my lips, even though they are spoken in such a quiet tone that I’m almost willing to bet Levi hasn’t heard them.
But he has.
“What?” The previous dejection in his voice has been completely forgotten, being replaced with a controlled rage that has clenched his fists and furrowed his brow. “It wasn’t real?” It’s like he’s daring me to confirm what I just said, to further dig in the knife that I’m sure he feels is wedged in his back. “You’re a piece of work, you know that, Jaeger?” I’m pretty sure that I shouldn’t respond to his verbal accusations. My lack of a filter would only heighten his anger.
But then he has to be an asshole.
“You don’t even give a fuck do you? What was it? The free alcohol? Because it sure as shit wasn’t me, huh?” Somehow, his accusations have sparked a fuse inside of me, one that I thought had been waddling in the water. But it’s back with a vengeance, tightening my jaw and narrowing my eyes.
“Fuck you, Levi. You know that isn’t true. Shit, you said it would end after Christmas. That you’d tell everyone that you dumped me.” My fingers maneuver through the messy, brown locks splayed across my forehead, frustration egging me to pull at the strands. “You can’t just get mad at me, because I can actually get a real date.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I am regretting them. Levi looks like I’ve just kicked his puppy, lips parted and brows lifted. My hands drop from atop my head, reaching out for the man in some frantic attempt to wash away the words. “Wait, I didn’t mean it, Levi. I-”
“No, you meant it.” He cuts me off with a harsh tone that sounds final and unapproachable. “You meant every word.” I don’t know what to do. I wanted to be his friend… I wanted… and even that’s being stripped away from me. And there’s nothing I can do but watch him leave. “Just… just have fun on your date, Eren.” He shoulders past me, not even bothering to slam the door on his way out. It’s just the same, though, his departure louder than a thousand slammed doors combined. I fucked up, didn’t I? Because I like Levi. Because Levi liked me.
Because it was real.
---
I guess the rain makes a fitting scene for my current situation. Distraught, lonely, and walking alone back from a date I couldn’t even start. The pick-up man, who turned out to be a Jacob, didn’t even last five minutes under my watery gaze, the tears begging for release ever since Levi walked out my front door. I suppose I dodged a bullet, though, considering the bastard didn’t even offer me a ride home, claiming that his seats were leather, but I could still call if I wanted a good time. Fucking asshole. But this punishment suits me, I guess. Being forced to wade in my mistakes as I’m slowly drenched under the torrential downpour that only this night would provide. God must be watching over me, that’s for sure. It’s bullshit that it’s raining in the first place. December is supposed to bring snow, but lucky for me, Shiganshina has decided to keep her temperature right above freezing.
At least the walk isn’t far, though. Maybe fifteen minutes at most, and shit, I’ve already walked a good ten. Like clockwork, my apartment building begins to come into view, practically shaking from the strength of the winds. It’s a piece of shit, but it’s something to come home to, so I really can’t complain that much. Although, it’s going to be different this time. Knowing that my previous encounter there was filled with heated words and things both parties didn’t mean to say. Finally, I reach my building, and I must say, there are not many things I’m expecting to see on my front steps.
And a drenched Erwin Smith is definitely not one of them.
He glances up at the sound of my footsteps, blonde hair plastered against his forehead as the rain continues to pour. A charismatic smile begins to pull at his lips, his sopping appearance not affecting the grin that still manages to shine through.
“Can I come in?” I’m tempted to say no, because while Levi is always three steps ahead of me, this man is a couple miles. But what kind of person would I be of I left him out in the rain. Probably a sensible one, considering you don’t really know this man. Ah, but sensible has never been in my vocabulary anyway.
I nod my head towards the door in silent approval, deciding that anything I say can and probably will be used against me in the court of Erwin law. The man’s grin widens as he pulls himself off the steps, and god, I’m silently praying that Jean isn’t peeping through the windows again, because this would be hell trying to explain to Mikasa.
The key sticks as I unlock the door, typical considering the fucking typhoon outside. But a few swift kicks and raised eyebrows do the trick, the entrance swinging open to reveal a hall I’d rather not revisit.
“Just… uh… wait right here. I’ll get a towel.” I doubt that I own anything, besides maybe a bed sheet, that will be able to fully cover that shoulder frame, but courteous is my middle name… at least when I want it to be. Soon, I’ve returned with a towel that once placed against Erwin confirms my previous suspicions. “Uh… sorry… I guess one size doesn’t really fit all, heh.” The joke, albeit a terrible one, manages to pull another smile from the man who attempts to cover as much of his hulking frame as possible with the small towel.
“It’s fine.” I lead him into the living room, directing him to take a seat because like my apartment, the couch is also a piece of shit, and one drenched Paul Bunyan won’t do it in. “So, I’m guessing you know why I’m here.” Well, I have an assumption. An assumption that involves someone who is short and probably still very angry. But you know what they say happens when you assume. Yeah, you become one of Jean’s relatives. “He’s not mad.” The words catch my attention, pulling my gaze back to the blonde man scrunched up on my couch. “I think he wants to be… but he understands. Even if he won’t admit it.”
“I hurt him.” The words are out before I can rein them back in, verbally spilling my afflictions to a man who I still don’t trust. Erwin hums, confirming my statement. There’s a twinge of regret that strikes my gut, telling me that I would take an angry Levi over a hurt one. And, obviously, so would Erwin if the furrow that’s developed in his brow is any sign.
“He told me what happened, and I think you both said some things you each regret.” Erwin’s a smart bastard, hitting the nail on the head with the first swing.
I mumble something that sounds like an agreement as I direct my stare to the shag carpet that should have been replaced years ago. That sinking feeling is back, erupting in my gut like some sort of fire. God, I fucked up. But Erwin said that Levi understood. That he wasn’t mad, even though he had every right to be. Just hurt. I glance up at the man, not really sure what to add to the conversation. A knowing smile is pulling at his lips, not unlike the one I witnessed when we first met. It causes me to lift an eyebrow, confused as to why my mumbling has put the grin on his face.
“Do you know why Levi asked you to enter a mock relationship?” I’m not expecting the question, but to my surprise, I already have a ready answer.
“Yeah, because of that asshole—” My breath catches in my throat, the previous words dying on my lips. “Wait, you knew?”
“It was hard to not notice when neither of you could agree on your anniversary date.” I knew that was a damn trick question. “That and the fact that Levi may or may not have mentioned to me something about asking out some cute dumbass a couple of weeks prior… no offense.” I throw up my hands in a silent ‘none taken’, because Erwin’s no doubt speaking verbatim. But as his words sink in, I realize something. Something that catches my breath and widens my eyes.
“He never needed a fake boyfriend.” There’s not a hint of inquiry in my voice as I state my epiphany to Erwin. “He just used it as an excuse to take me out.” The blonde man’s smile spreads, and I know I’ve finally caught on. And holy shit. Leave it to Levi to figure out the most ridiculous way to take me out. I want to say it was probably his pride that opted for the bizarre courting, but even though he would never admit the flaw, it was no doubt a case of nerves that set him on the path of ‘fake relationships’. “That’s so stupid, though. Why wouldn’t he just ask me out right? Why make it so complicated?”
“Why did you run away from Hanji’s Christmas party?” Touché, Blondie. I narrow my eyes at him, because I don’t necessarily want to be reminded of how much of a coward I was. And he gets the message, offering me a smirk that knows it has me pinned. “Things always seem a lot easier on the outside looking in, hmm?” I give him an answer in the form of a nod, not quite ready to audibly shoot my pride. “There’s a New Year’s gala coming up, and I know Mr. Personality is going to be there.” I’m not sure why Erwin is telling me this. There’s no way Levi will ask me to attend the party with him, the man no doubt still upset over our fight. My face obviously reads my confusion, Erwin continuing where he left off, “I’m sure you can brush off that suit for the occasion.” Maybe I’m just an idiot and the man is being apparent about the intent of this conversation. But, nonetheless, I’m still very fucking confused.
“Erwin, I can’t get in. I don’t work there and… and Levi isn’t going to take me.” His eyes light up like he has been waiting for those words to spill from my lips. He’s immediately retorting, the reply probably hanging on the tip of his tongue ever since he stepped through my front door.
“I have a plan.”
---
“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, won’t he be pissed if he sees me with you?” I’m latched onto Erwin’s arm, the man carrying me through the throng of party goers gathered in the large ballroom.
“Trust me, Eren.” It’s such a simple request, but I don’t think the man knows how much he’s asking with the wish. Well, maybe he’s a secret sadist and secretly enjoys seeing me squirm. Possibly. “Just stick to the plan, and I promise it will all turn out.” Stick to the plan. Right. As a familiar undercut begins to come into view, I realize that’s a lot easier said than done. Erwin begins to steadily sneak out of my grasp, gently nudging me towards the man that I’m not sure I really want to face anymore. “Remember what I said. You’ll do fine.” Shit, I feel like a kid on their first day of kindergarten instead of a man about to face potential heartbreak. But Erwin wouldn’t leave me alone out here unless he thought his plan would work, right? Fuck, I hope so.
I edge closer to Levi, the man standing nonchalantly near the buffet table, almost identically to the previous gala minus my company. Unfortunately, I don’t think the DJ has changed since the last party, but my heart is louder than any shitty eighties pop ballad, pounding in my ears until it is the only sound resonating in the large room. Because, holy shit, he is right there. And is it too late to turn around and retreat back to Erwin, maybe pray that Levi doesn’t spot my escape? Wait, no. I’m not a coward. I… I can do this. I can do this. I—
“What are you doing here?”
Well, there goes my element of surprise. Nice one, Jaeger. He’s looking at me through a tapered glare, silvers barely flashing between the slits. I remind myself that Erwin told me he wasn’t mad… ah, but then again, he also said that the man wasn’t doing a very good job of admitting it.
“I… uh…” Yeah, this is definitely easier said than done. Suddenly, something flashes in Levi’s eyes, and holy shit Erwin was right. Swallowing my fear, I continue with the plan, albeit not as smoothly as originally planned. “Can I have this dance?” I’ve already grabbed his hand, tugging him steadily out onto the dance floor.
“I don’t dance.”
“And I don’t usually crash big budget company galas, but here I am.” That quip wasn’t necessarily part of the plan, so to speak, but Levi still hasn’t pulled away; so I suppose it didn’t go over too badly with the man.
“Little shit.” Any bite the insult might have had dies on the subtle smirk playing on Levi’s lips, the remark quickly turning into something like endearment. Yeah, Erwin was right. I turn my attention to the DJ booth as we reach the center of the dance floor. Several employees have created a pool of flinging limbs, so it’s hard to cipher out what I’m looking for, but as soon as that head of blonde hair comes into view, I know I’m golden. Erwin gives me a thumbs up as he hands the CD to the man controlling this god awful music, because no, it definitely isn’t any better this time around.
But that’s my queue.
Pulling Levi to a stop in front of me, I lower one of my hands to his waist, the other still clasping around his palm. “What are you—” His voice mutes as the song begins to play, a distinctive change to the upbeat melody previously straining through the air.
“I told you.” I smile as I pull Levi in closer to my body, feeling the way he’s tensed against my movements. “We’re dancing.” A sharp breath cascades against my exposed collarbone as he grips at my shoulders, slightly stumbling into me. “Not very well, though.” The somewhat offended look Levi shoots me is worth the way he pulls his body nearer to mine until he’s like a second skin, both of our bodies swaying to the classic playing through the speakers.
I’ve got you under my skin.
It’s hypnotic. The way his hands nervously grab my shoulders, the way we continuously step on each other’s toes, the way he gradually relaxes in my grasp until he’s completely fluid under my palms. It’s almost like we aren’t surrounded by pompous assholes, like we are the only ones dancing in the crystalline fluorescents sparkling from the ceiling. Our chests flush against each other, we’re close enough that I can feel the rapid beating of his heart against my front, and I’m almost certain he can feel mine.
“The song isn’t bad.” My hand slides to the small of his back, causing his breath to hitch as my fingers begin to trace against the fabric of his suit.
I’ve said to myself, this affair, it never will go so well.
“What about the company?” There’s a confidence in my voice that in no way reflects how I’m actually feeling, the nervous clusters in my stomach progressively threatening to burst.
Levi scoffs softly as he meets my gaze, “It could probably be better, but I’ll manage.” A pang erupts inside of my chest, basking me in a feeling that I wish would never leave. The man plays off my momentary muteness, bringing his hands to wrap around the base of my neck. “He reminds me of this one little shit.”
But why should I try to resist when, baby, I know so well?
Fingers begin to venture into the fine hairs at my nape, steadily wedging themselves deeper and deeper into the brown locks. It sends a shiver through my spine, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Levi, the man smirking as his fingertips deftly trace against my scalp. But I’m not losing my footing so far into the game, not when I’ve taken this so far.
“O-oh?” I clear my throat with a fake cough that sounds about as legitimate as Sasha’s diet plan, trying not to let the nervousness stewing inside me show on my face. “What’s he like?” Levi shoots me an incredulous look that asks if we’re really going to go through this. And I’m sorry to disappoint, but Erwin told me to wing it… and I’m fucking winging it.
“Well,” Those fingers roving through my hair tighten, wrapping the strands around the bony appendages, “he’s a dumbass.” I scrunch my brows together in disagreement, opening my mouth ready to retort. “But he’s very passionate, too. Once told me that I could go fuck myself if I thought political science wouldn’t lead him anywhere.” The look of aggravation leaves my face as a grin pulls at my lips, because I remember exactly how that conversation ended. God, I’m lucky that I am even still alive with the way that I dumped Levi’s specialty bleach out on the sidewalk. “So, I guess that makes up for him being such an idiot.”
Don’t you know, you fool, that you never can win?
“I heard he was sort of an asshole.” The words are mumbled under the backdrop of the song, not necessarily wanting to come out. But I have to apologize, and this just seems like the least awkward way to do it. They cause Levi to falter, his hands stilling in my hair; and for a moment, I’m scared that I’ve just ruined it all.
“Yeah,” The slight smirk still painting his face tells me that I’ve done anything but, “he was a real asshole.”
“Was? Hmm, sounds like you’re giving him another shot.” I’m probably testing the waters as it is, should probably be happy that the man is at least accepting my apology. But as Levi drops his hands and presses his cheek against my shoulder, I realize that I’ve already got an answer to my question.
I’ve got you under my skin.
“Maybe.” A smile tugs at my lips as I slide my hands along his spine, fingers delicately tracing the fabric underneath their touch. Levi hums in appeasement as he nuzzles deeper into my shoulder, not unlike the night of Hanji’s Christmas party.
We continue like this, bodies pressed together clumsily swaying to a song whose lyrics Levi is mouthing against my skin. I don’t know when the melody ends and the obnoxious pop music reignites, because we are still standing there. In the middle of the cramped dance floor moving to our symphony. It’s an awkward position, Levi with his arms slinked under my own, hands fisted in the fabric atop my shoulder blades. It hardly gives us lenience to do anything but rock against each other, feet getting tangled too many times to count.
“You were right. We’re fucking terrible at this.” He has lifted his head off me, eyes currently taking in my breathless appearance. There’s an amused glint in those silver orbs, heightening the slight upturn of his lips. Lips that are currently the center of my attentions. “Eren, I—”
The music suddenly comes to a halt as a youthful voice begins to emit from the speakers, “I hope everyone’s having a great time tonight!” My head turns to the sound, watching the overzealous DJ start to wave his hands in the air. I catch Levi staring at me out of the corner of my eye, and I guess if you take away the shitty retro pop then I really don’t have any complaints. I spot a glint of white from Levi’s grin. Yeah, no complaints at all. “How about we count down this New Year’s in style?” The DJ begins to tap away at his controls, and abruptly, a large projection of numbers fades onto the opposing wall. “I hope you all have a great New Year’s and don’t forget to grab someone special!”
Someone special, huh?
Levi presses into me, eyes meeting mine in a way that is definitely sending my heart into an early grave.
“Ten!”
He probably doesn’t even realize what that look does to me, how it breaks down every single one of my defenses. There’s a sudden glint in those eyes as he wills me to pull him in closer.
“Nine.”
It takes all but a few seconds to process what my mind is willing me to do as my eyes begin to concentrate on the growing smirk planted across his face.
“Eight!”
He probably knows it, too.
“Seven!”
Can probably read my thoughts like an open book.
“Six!”
But that means that he’s not stopping me.
“Five!”
Not when I bring my hands up to cradle the back of his head.
“Four!”
Not when those same hands begin to pull him closer.
“Three!”
Not when my eyes start to flutter shut.
“Two!”
Not when my breath begins to cascade across his face.
“One!’
And definitely not when my lips finally meet his.
“Happy New Year!”
It’s just like our previous kiss, except better. So much better. His fingers are matted in the back of my suit as he tries to establish some common ground. But there is none to be found as I pull him in deeper, our lips mashing in a way that couldn’t possibly be described as smooth. However, the clumsiness is what makes it amazing, makes it remarkable. His lips are still chapped, still rough against my own as they move timidly through the kiss. I feel them tremble as Levi’s fingers unclench my clothing, opting to instead drop to my front. His palms slide up my chest as he allows himself to be pulled deeper into the connection. And I’m not sure where I should end this, not sure if I really want to. Pretty sure that I would be completely content with staying connected to this man for the rest of the night.
Those once unsteady hands fist into the lapels of my suit, tightening with each press of our lips. And I still haven’t opened my eyes. I probably should, considering that there are a shitton of people bouncing around us. But I keep my lids closed, almost with trepidation that if I open them than this will have to end. Suddenly, Levi is making the decision for me, slowly pulling away from me in a heated daze. His stuttered breaths are tumbling across my lips; and I’m going to die, because the air in still frozen in my lungs.
To be honest, I am not entirely sure what I am expecting when I finally open my eyes. Blankness? Regret? Rejection? I suppose those are all a few possibilities, ones that I am hoping— no, praying I won’t find. And as the light streams in through my lids, I realize that maybe the god above isn’t that big of an asshole.
Happiness.
There is not a huge grin on his face, not a wide display of teeth. Just a faint dusting of pink cheeks and a slight smirk. But it tells me everything. Tells me that he’s happy.
“You keep smiling like that, and people are going to start to stare.” It takes me a moment to swallow the quip, my mind still lost in this glorious haze.
“Since when do you care what people think?” I affectionately run a thumb across his cheek, feeling the warmness radiate off his skin.
He scoffs, pressing off my chest in mock offense. “Well, it’s pretty fucking creepy.” I roll my eyes, the man obviously looking for a scape goat for his embarrassment. Because my smile isn’t fucking creepy. “Now you look constipated. Stop trying so hard.” I nudge his shoulder with my own, because a punch would probably one: get me thrown out, and two: get my ass kicked. Because I am positive Levi still has some pent up aggravation locked up somewhere behind that narrowed gaze.
My hand slides down his arm, allowing for me to interlock our fingers. “Says the one with the stick up his ass.” The words cause Levi to pause, sending me a look painted with a grin and a raised eyebrow.
“Keep talking and that’s the only thing that’s going to be up it.” My cheeks blaze at the comment, and I know the asshole has me. Palm faltering against his, I am silently wishing that Erwin had prepped me for the moment when Levi decided to drop such crude bombs. But, unfortunately, I was sent on my way with little more than a ‘be yourself’ and ‘don’t fuck this up’. Given he did provide the music and the motive, so I guess I can’t be too bitter. “You have to buy me dinner first, though.”
A chuckle bubbles in the back of my throat as we make our way off the dance floor. “Are you asking me out?” Levi shoots me a look that is daring me to ask the question again, brows raised and eyes narrowed. “Or is it supposed to be the other way around?” Because now he has no right to kill me, considering I didn’t technically make the same inquiry. The expression plastered across his face tells me I might need to think twice about that.
“You’re fucking hilarious. Has anyone ever told you that?” It’s a rhetorical question, but I still feel the need to answer it, mouth opening, preparing for my quip. It never comes though, the words being lost against the feeling of Levi’s lips on mine. It’s a quick kiss, a sneaky device that the man has used to shut me up. I’m almost aggravated that he would use such a underhanded tactic, but the sensation still drifting across my lips is swallowing up a response. Well, it’s effective, I’ll give him that. Because I’m gaping, mouth open in surprise, staring blankly at the asshole who just quite literally took my breath away. “That’s a yes to your question if you were wondering.” Uh, I wasn’t really wondering, but I appreciate the concern.
The only thing I’m able to offer the man before he tugs me towards the exit is a slight nod, all my bravado escaping with that last kiss. Because there are a million and one things that haven’t been real these past couple of weeks. The falsities we spread at the Christmas gala. The way I tried to deny my feelings at Hanji’s party. The disinterest I showed the man back at my apartment. But that.
That was real.