Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Levi, please.”

Eren was leaning over the wooden counter, looking pleadingly at the man standing before him.

“No.”

The dark-haired man didn’t look at him, instead focused on a book he was holding in his left hand. He nonchalantly flipped a page, still not looking at the man speaking to him.

“Pleeeeeeeease, you’re the ONLY ONE I can ask,” Eren whined shamelessly.

A few customers behind Levi began shifting impatiently, murmuring to each other in quiet irritation.

“Go prepare my damn overpriced coffee drink, you shitty brat,” the man said, finally looking up at the tall brunette and glowering.

“Levi please Levi please Levi please Levi please Levi please—”

Eren continued to plead, clasping his hands together and bowing his head in desperation.

“…I hate you,” the man sighed, tearing off his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose.

The barista brightened, looking at Levi hopefully.

“Is that a yes?”

---

A month ago, Eren’s older sister, Mikasa, had announced rather casually that she was engaged to be married.

Eren, who had not even known that Mikasa had been dating someone, had nearly fallen over in shock.

When she had explained that she was engaged to Eren’s archnemesis, Jean Kirstein, he had nearly had a heart attack.

“We’ve been dating for five years,” Mikasa said coolly, sipping her tea and watching Eren have a panic attack.

“What the fuck?!” He cried, standing up and pounding his fist on the table of the restaurant they were sitting in. Though he earned the worried glances of several other folks in the restaurant, Mikasa remained unperturbed by his actions.

“Calm down. It’s not like you’re going to be the one having sex with him.” Mikasa said, taking a dainty bite of her croissant.

Eren wanted to cry big alligator tears.

“I absolutely will not allow this to happen. No. No fucking way.”

“Eren,” Mikasa said, her voice suddenly gentle. She grabbed his hand, and her eyes softened. Eren bit his lip. She knew he was weak to that look.

He sat down, having decided to listen to what she had to say.

Once he was sitting again, she began to speak. “I know you and Jean fought in the past, but it’s because you’re both really alike—you’re passionate about the things you care about, and you don’t back down easily.”

Eren frowned. He knew Jean wasn’t a bad guy, but it was hard to forget all the times they had sat next to each other in detention for starting fights with one another.

“I know you care about me, but so does he. He makes me happy,” Mikasa said, pausing to give Eren a serious look, “and I didn’t say yes just because it was in the moment. I thought about it, and I came to the conclusion that I love him.”

Eren sighed and put his head in his hands.

“I know I can’t stop you,” he admitted, feeling helpless.

He raised his head and looked at her seriously. “If he ever hurts you I will kill him. I will stab him so many fucking times—”

“Eren, will you walk me down the aisle? And dance with me?”

The question caught Eren off guard. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that, since their parents were out of the picture, he would be the one giving Mikasa away at the wedding.

He fought the urge to start weeping, a wave of sentimentality crashing over him.

“Of course,” he said, gripping her hands in his. “I…of course.”

Mikasa’s relieved smile was so serene and full of quiet joy that Eren knew he would have to shove his anger for Jean (Ugh, they were going to be brothers-in-law? What a nightmare.) into a dark corner of his mind and put up with it for his sister’s sake.

He hadn’t seen Mikasa that happy in a long time, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he took that away from her.

---

In a couple of weeks, Eren had gotten over the shock that was the Jean-Mikasa engagement. He still wasn’t all that pleased about it, but he wasn’t about to go on a rampage because of it.

Instead, he became overwhelmed with his new responsibilities.

Though he had agreed to give away with Mikasa and take over the duties of dancing with her in place of an absent father figure, he realized that maybe he had promised too much.

The thing was, Eren was the worst dancer in the world. In seventh grade, he had been forced to join Dance Club by his mother, only to step on the feet of nineteen girls during the tango, accidentally cop a feel during the cha-cha, and fall flat on his face during the fox trot.

Ever since then, he had avoided anything having to do with the activity. He didn’t attend a single high school dance, even though he knew that at least sixteen girls had wanted him to ask them to his senior prom. When he attended college parties (something that he did not do often), he stood in a corner and chatted with his friends. He had never stepped foot inside of a club.

He was a master of avoiding the activity, and had convinced himself that he would never have to dance again in his life.

Of course, he hadn’t anticipated the fact that he’d be dancing with Mikasa at her damn wedding to Jean-fucking-Kirstein (Was her name going to become Mikasa Kirstein? Jesus Christ!).

So, he began to take the necessary steps toward becoming a passable dancer.

First, he looked up tutorials on YouTube. He broke his laptop after he tripped over the charging cord and fell face-first on the floor.

Next, he watched every Step Up movie ever made. That didn’t really help at all, but he did get to see a lot of hot guys, so that wasn’t a total loss.

Finally, he asked for help.

“Hey, Hanji,” Eren began one day as he was washing beakers.

Hanji Zoe was a professor in the Biology department at Trost University, the college that Eren and Mikasa both attended. Eren was a Biology major, and he had made a good impression on the professor his freshman year, so she’d asked him to come teach some sections of her course and help out with some of her research. It was great experience for Eren, and though Hanji had a reputation for being incredibly eclectic, he harbored a soft spot for Trost’s resident “Mad Scientist.”

“What’s up, Eren?” Hanji looked up from a microscope with a bright smile.

“Do you know how to dance?” He asked, a little bit embarrassed by his question.

Hanji let out a loud peal of laughter.

“Not at all! My parents signed me up for ballet when I was a child, but I was so bad I got thrown out for being a disruption due to the amount of times I accidentally pushed people over,” Hanji said it gleefully, chuckling fondly at the memory.

Eren decided he probably should have known.

“Right. Well, uh, do you know anyone who does? My sister is getting married, and I need to learn.” Eren explained, putting away the beaker he had finished cleaning and grabbing another.

Hanji squealed in excitement, surprising Eren. He almost dropped the beaker, but luckily he grabbed it before it hit the ground and shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh, oh! Levi did ballroom dancing in high school. He was really good, won a bunch of competitions. You remember Petra, right? I think you met her at the Christmas party. They danced together.”

Eren felt his face flush, “Ah, do you know anyone besides him who knows how to dance?”

“No, no, you definitely have to ask him. He’s the best. He’d probably be really flattered, you know? I bet he secretly misses it. He stopped after—” Hanji stopped herself, then gave Eren a more timid smile.

“Just ask him. He may act grumpy about it, but I think it’ll actually make him really happy. You know how he is by now,” she added with a wry smile.

Eren frowned. He’d met Levi through Hanji, and though it hadn’t been easy to get Levi to warm up to him, they’d ended up spending a lot of time with each other in the three years since they first met.

Levi was a frequent patron of the café Eren worked at part-time to earn some extra cash, and sometimes Levi even came into the lab to hang around and talk to Hanji about university matters.

On occasion, Levi even sat with him during his breaks at the café and they chatted idly.

Over time, Levi had become a constant in his life, a friend unlike those he had kept close since high school, but an important one nonetheless.

Eren also had been harboring a huge crush on the man for three years, but he had learned to treat it as one of those unfortunate things in life that you have no control over.

Like, oh, I got a papercut. Oh, someone scratched my car in the parking lot. Oh, I’m in love with Levi Ackerman.

---

It took him a few weeks, but he finally mustered up the courage to ask Levi for his help. He weighed the pros and cons of the situation, and decided that this may be his chance to finally learn more about Levi. He had always been distant; whenever they were together, Eren always felt as though a single answer from Levi raised fifteen new questions in his mind.

It was probably not the best course of action to ask him while he was in the middle of a shift at the café, but Eren had never been particularly tactful.

Eren watched Levi sit in a corner of the café reading and sipping his almond-hazelnut latte intermittently for the two hours he had left on his shift. When he clocked out, he hung up his apron and made his way over to the corner.

As he took a seat, Levi put down his book.

“Mondays at 5 P.M. That’s the only time I’m free. Take it or leave it.”

Eren blinked. He hadn’t really expected Levi to take him seriously, let alone think about when they could meet.

“There’s a dance room in the basement of the History department, since the building used to be part of the Arts department. We can meet there, since I have the master key,” Levi explained.

Eren nodded enthusiastically. “Alright!”

Levi closed his book, put it carefully in his messenger bag, and stood up. Pulling on the sleeves of his long black coat and wrapping his grey scarf around his head, he nodded at Eren.

“C’mon, kid. I’ll walk with you to south campus.”

The walk was quiet, and they took the scenic route through the large park that marked the center of the campus. Eren distracted himself from paying too much attention to Levi as they walked, instead looking at the sky (grey today), the other students (why are there so many couples in winter?!), and a pond to his left (frozen over).

Eren didn’t have any trouble talking with Levi, but he did find it hard to start conversations with him.

Clearing his throat, he turned to look at Levi. “Why’d you start dancing?”

Levi didn’t look at him. “My foster-sister really liked it. She always asked me to dance with her when we were kids.”

Eren blinked in surprised. He had never heard anything about Levi’s past, let alone his childhood.

“Does she dance too?”

“She passed away when we were ten. Leukemia,” Levi answered without a hint of emotion.

“I’m sorry,” Eren said automatically, knowing that the cliché phrase would do nothing to dull the pain. For some reason, he felt tears form at the corner of his eyes. He groaned inwardly. He had been made fun of all his life for being a crybaby, and the last thing he wanted was to cry in front of Levi, who was always so calm and collected in front of him.

“It was a long time ago, kid. Don’t worry about it,” Levi said, and Eren realized he was finally looking at him. Levi brought a gloved hand down on top of Eren’s head and ruffled his hair. Small snowflakes fell down around them, and Eren sniffed.

“You should wear a hat. You lose a lot of heat through your head,” Levi pointed out.

Eren just nodded dumbly.

“Well, I’ll see you Monday, then.” Levi said, nodding shortly and turning right to make his way toward his apartment.

Levi gave a small wave and Eren raised his own hand in a gesture of goodbye as well, realizing belatedly that Levi had already turned away and would not be able to see it.

---

Sometimes Eren wonders if he could have avoided the whole one-sided pining thing by just not going to Hanji's Christmas party.

It was a last minute decision to go, anyway; he had always disliked drinking, and it wasn't like any of his close friends were invited. Nevertheless, he wanted to develop a good relationship with Hanji Zoe—despite her eccentricity, she was an advantageous connection to have in the world of science.

When he had told her that he would go and subsequently asked if she wanted him to bring anything, Hanji had asked him to come early to help set up instead.

The next week, he found himself in front of her apartment, which was an easy fifteen minute walk from his own dorm building.

“Hey, Hanji, you left your front door open and you’re reeeeeally lucky it was me who walked in and not some—”

A man was sitting cross-legged on the linoleum floor of Hanji’s kitchen, a sponge in one hand and a bottle of some sort of purple cleaning product in the other. He had straight dark hair styled in an undercut, and when his piercing eyes looked up at Eren in a glare, Eren froze.

The brunette opened and closed his mouth several times, stunned. Then, he furrowed his eyebrows, cleared his throat, and spoke.

“Who are you?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

The two men blinked at each other, each having addressed the other at the same time.

“Uh,” Eren said, rather intelligently.

Suddenly, a figure in a flowing bright green maxi skirt swooped through the doorway to the kitchen.

Hanji’s face lit up upon seeing the scene in her kitchen. “Oh, Eren, you’re early and you brought wine? You’re my new favorite coworker. Moblit is out, Eren is in! I see you’ve met my grumpy-but-incredibly-endearing best friend, Levi Ackerman!”

Hanji went from pulling Eren into a rather uncomfortable hug to gesturing madly toward the man seated on the floor.

“Oh. Hi.” Eren said, lifting his right hand up in an awkward wave.

The brown-haired woman turned to the man seated on the floor, and Eren studied him as she spoke. He was wearing dark slacks, a white dress shirt, and a brown vest. Underneath him was a towel, presumably placed there so that his pants would remain clean. He was wearing bright yellow latex gloves.

The whole image was rather hilarious, but there was something about the man’s cold gaze that told Eren that laughing would be a very, very bad idea indeed.

“Leeeevi, this is Eren. Yeager. He’s one of my lab assistants. Sometimes he lets me experiment on him,” Hanji said gleefully. Eren paled at this new tidbit of information, turning his gaze from the man on the floor to Hanji’s excited face.

While Eren contemplated whether or not Hanji was joking, Levi spoke.

“You mean you experiment on him without telling him beforehand,” he clarified in a bored monotone.

“Yes.” Hanji affirmed easily, nodding seriously.

“You should probably quit,” Levi advised, turning to look at Eren, who looked like he was going to be sick.

Hanji kept on smiling in oblivious bliss.

Trying to forget the fact that he no longer felt in control of his life, Eren looked at Levi in confusion, finally mustering up the courage to address the elephant in the room. “What are you doing on the floor?”

Levi just looked at him blankly. “Cleaning. What the hell does it look like I’m doing? Conversing with ants?” Levi scoffed as if Eren was ridiculous to wonder why a grown man was sitting on the floor in a social setting and had made no move to get up when introduced.

Perfect silence settled in the kitchen as Hanji eagerly watched the two interact as if they were two specimens in one of her many oddball experiments (Eren would know; he helped her with most of them).

Eren held Levi’s gaze, confused and intrigued and still feeling slightly sick.

Levi stared right back, the look on his face one equal parts apathetic and serial-killer-murderous.

“You look like you’re trying to take a shit,” Levi said very slowly after a minute or two, eyebrows furrowing.

Eren had laughed so hard he cried.

Hanji laughed right along with him as Levi looked on at the both of them, sighing in what appeared to be a great deal of pity for what was, in his opinion, a pair of two very twisted souls.

Eren proceeded to spend the entire four hours at Hanji’s holiday party staring across the room at the serious man (no longer seated on the floor, but standing at a whopping five feet and three inches) as he sipped his red wine nonchalantly and conversed with various acquaintances of Hanji’s with a bored look on his face.

Later, in the kitchen, Eren strategically slipped a question about Levi into a conversation he had with Hanji as she mixed some of her guests a new round of drinks.

“Oh, Levi? We met when we went to Trost together. We were both on the fencing team back then. He had no friends besides his boyfriend, Erwin—the tall blonde guy in there with the really bushy eyebrows. Erwin was captain of the team, but Levi was actually better at fencing, he just doesn’t take to responsibility well. Anyway, when he and Erwin broke up the second time, Levi quit the club, but we still hung out.”

Several questions burned in Eren’s mind, but he set them aside for the moment. The last thing he needed was Hanji knowing about his growing interest in the older man.

“What does he do now?” He asked, nodding in what he hoped was a casual manner at Hanji’s story.

“He’s a professor at Trost, too. He works in the History department.”

“What?!” Eren guffawed, almost dropping the can of beer he was holding.

Hanji just smiled at his shocked response. “He teaches a lot of the general history courses for non-majors, but he spends a lot of time researching combat technology.”

“I’ve never seen him around,” Eren murmured, eyes finding the man in the other room. He had stopped talking, and was watching a woman with short red hair jab a finger in the chest of a blonde man with an undercut.

Suddenly, his eyes shifted to meet Eren’s.

Eren felt his face flush and turned back to Hanji, hoping he had looked away in time.

“Levi is a pretty private person. It takes a long time to weasel your way into his life, but once you do, you’re there for good,” Hanji said, giving Eren a knowing smile.

He didn’t see it; he was too busy gazing at the man in the next room once more.

“How interesting,” Hanji murmured in a low voice, covering her grin with a hand as she watched her two friends.

Chapter Text

Eren’s lanky and tall and uncomfortable with close human contact even at age 21, but Levi is as patient as the younger man is obstinate.

“Stop looking so goddamn constipated. You’re the one who wanted dance lessons from a guy, so either take this seriously or let me go do one of the many more important things I could be doing right now,” Levi said gruffly, stopping in the middle of the floor and staring up at Eren in annoyance.

Eren’s face flushed red, and he began to protest. He broke position and began to wave his hands wildly in the air.

“T-that isn’t it! I mean, I’m g—”

“Whatever it is, I don’t care. Now c’mere,” Levi said, cutting him off. He grabbed Eren’s flapping hands, pulling him into position. Eren’s right hand rested below Levi’s arm, and his left locked into Levi’s right hand.

Eren briefly wondered what Levi would do if his hand drifted below its position on his upper body down to his waist, maybe his hips…

Eren’s face continued to burn, and he hoped that he was still tan enough despite the season for it to not be too noticeable.

He began to wonder what masochistic part of his brain decided it would be a good idea to ask Levi for dance lessons after all.

He should have just stuck to watching Step Up over and over again. At least then he could drool over perfect asses in privacy, therefore maintaining what little dignity he had left (read: not much).

“One-two-three, four-five-six…” Levi counted off in a murmur, and they picked up their crooked waltz once more.

Eren was able to manage the first few steps that simply involved moving forward, but then he forgot whether to move left or right and ended up going forward at the last minute, bumping into Levi and stamping all over his small feet.

Levi let out a strangled noise that reminded Eren of the time he stepped on his cat’s tail by accident as a child, and Eren broke the hold once again to begin fussing.

“Oh shit, oh shit, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Just shut up,” Levi said, pain still causing his voice to sound strained. He winced noticably, rotating his ankles in a desperate attempt to make the uncomfortable feeling go away. “The last thing I need on top of this is a headache.”

Eren sighed, running a hand through his hair. He shuffled backwards in embarrassment.

“You know, it’s okay. This is a total waste of your time and you’re probably going to end up in the ER because I’m a clumsy piece of shit. You really didn’t have to agree, but you’re a really nice person and—”

“I told you to shut up,” Levi growled, and though Eren had stepped away to wallow in thoughts of self-deprecation, Levi grabbed his arms once more and guided them back into the waltz hold.

Levi’s eyes met his, and the irritation present in the lines of his face made Eren sigh again.

“No one comes out of the fucking womb doing the two-step, Yeager. And since when do you give up so easily?” Levi said quietly, scowling as he added the part about Eren’s instinctual determination.

Eren let out a noise of frustration. “I’m just going to end up stepping on your toes again!” He protested.

He watched the corners of Levi’s mouth turn up in a wry smile.

“I do own a pair of steel-tipped boots,” Levi joked.

Eren couldn’t help the relieved grin that spread across his face.

They ended up staying in the dance room until 7:23 P.M. Eren only stepped on Levi’s toes twice more, and by around 7, he had mastered the six steps of the waltz and was twirling Levi across the floor (albeit a tad haphazardly).

As Eren put on his coat and grabbed his bag on the way outside, Levi patted him on the shoulder.

“You’re getting the hang of it. You’re still way too stiff, but I think the current focus on not crushing your dear sister’s feet is rather justifiable,” he remarked.

“Teacher knows best,” Eren agreed with a cheeky grin.

Levi just huffed and punched him in the shoulder…hard.

He was stronger than he looked, Eren realized, but it was hard to feel anything besides affectionate warmth spread through him as he hurried to catch up to Levi.

---

Two weeks later, Eren’s ability to dance had noticeably improved. Levi had even begun teaching him the foxtrot for kicks after Eren had expressed his love of Fred Astaire movies.

“You’re still like a fucking tree—not bendy enough,” Levi remarked with a sigh after several attempts to get Eren to loosen his grip and twist in a more graceful manner during necessary turns. “You’re just going to end up hurting yourself.”

Eren groaned. “It’s just really hard to think about all the steps AND make it look easy, you know?” He explained, furrowing his brows.

Levi remained silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating something as he studied Eren.

The younger man shifted under the scrutiny.

Finally, Levi shook his head, “Alright, let’s call it quits for today.”

Levi made his way across the floor to grab his things, leaving Eren to stare after him in anguish.

“But I haven’t—”

“Don’t worry; I think I have a solution. Just get some rest and I’ll see you later,” Levi said, though Eren didn’t really understand his vague answer.

He watched Levi leave, and didn’t have the heart to chase after him so that he’d have someone to walk home with.

Instead, he remained in the room, trying to go over the steps of the foxtrot on his own.

He ended up kicking over a chair in fury the minute he executed a turn incorrectly, and he knew the reason he was angry wasn’t just because of the goddamn dance step.

---

When Levi had texted him an address the following Friday afternoon at 4 P.M. accompanied by the simple message “Meet me here at 11 P.M,” Eren nearly fell down the stairs he had been descending after finishing up with Hanji at the lab.

“???” He had responded, with a pang in his chest at the thought that maybe the text wasn’t meant for him in the first place.

The names “Eren” and “Erwin” look pretty alike, after all, Eren noted bitterly. Though Eren still wasn’t certain what Levi’s relationship with the blonde professor of English he’d met various times at Hanji’s get-togethers (he had asked Levi’s friend Petra a few times, but she had just blushed and refused to indulge in any of the details), he did know that whatever they had wasn’t quite over yet; he had seen enough longing glances sent Levi’s way by the blonde man at Hanji’s parties to know at least one of them was hung up on the other.

The buzzing of his phone broke him out of his angry headspace, and he unclenched his tense hand to find that he had one new text message.

“Don’t be late, Yeager.”

A warm feeling spread throughout Eren’s body, and he felt a goofy smile make its way onto his face.

He didn’t stop smiling even though he was caught walking home in the rain without an umbrella in his light hoodie. He was almost hit by a car as he kept rereading the text over and over again, but he ignored the driver’s slew of insults and continued to jog home, laughing a bit to himself, imagining he was swinging a certain dark-haired professor around the dance floor each time he made a sharp turn.

---

It took Eren a good hour to decide what to wear. He puttered around his dorm room nervously, trying on shirts and throwing them onto his Twin XL bed with frustration whenever he wasn’t satisfied. He ended up in a burgundy button down, grey jeans, and his favorite pair of Chelsea boots.

Taking one last glance in the mirror, he appropriately mussed up his hair before grabbing his wallet and phone and running out the door.

He took the bus into downtown Trost, then walked a quarter of a mile to the address Levi had sent him. He had expected some kind of elegant ballroom (it just seemed to fit the man with a penchant for expensive loose tea and designer shoes), but what he was faced with instead was a dark corner of town and a building that was very obviously a nightclub.

Eren blinked, checked the address on his phone, and frowned in confusion. Was Levi messing with him? There’s no way Professor Ackerman, clean freak extraordinaire, had asked him to meet at a nightclub.

…A popular and exclusive nightclub, no less. Wall Sina was known around campus for being the hardest club to get into unless you were somebody, and also the best for miles. The only people he knew who went there were the serious partiers, those who were part of the scene Eren had never had any interest in being a part of, and trust fund babies who could afford to bribe their way in.

“Oh, you’re early. Good.”

Eren instinctly looked up at the familiar voice, then down.

Standing to his left with his arms crossed was Levi, impeccably dressed in a black button down and black jeans.

…Very, very tight black jeans.

Eren felt his face heating up. He desperately needed to learn how to control that.

“Uh, why are we here?” Eren asked, flustered.

Levi just smirked and crossed his arms.

Eren wondered about the possibility of having a heart attack at age twenty-one.

“You suck at dancing,” he said frankly, “and tonight we’re going to fix that.”

He moved past Eren to the bouncer at the door, bypassing the line of eager twenty-somethings waiting in line to enter. The blonde man at the door gave him a wide grin and moved the tape aside. The people in the line scowled.

Levi jerked his head back toward Eren and said something that Eren couldn’t hear to the bouncer. The man nodded, and Levi beckoned for Eren to follow him.

Eren blinked and found himself lunging forward to keep up.

“Thanks, Mike,” Levi said, waving nonchalantly at the tall blonde as he entered.

The man just nodded in response. Eren could have sworn he sniffed him as he went through the door, but he was too overwhelmed with the sights and sounds of the club to be too freaked out.

Immediately, Eren felt a wave of panic take over him. He’d always been the awkward kid in school who would rather laze about and play video games with his best friends than go out and party, and here he was in a club that was incredibly hard to get into with an incredibly hot older man that he had an incredibly large, ridiculous, stupid schoolboy crush on.

This definitely was not going to end well.

Levi’s mouth began to move, but Eren couldn’t hear him over the pulsing beat of the music. Everywhere, people were pressed up against each other, dancing, laughing, and waving their drinks in the air.

Neon lights painted the dark walls, and the smell of sweat filled his nostrils.

“Eren.” The loud voice and the tug on his arm cut through the music, returning Eren to reality. “Stop spacing out.”

“S-sorry,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the heavy beat. “What did you say?”

Levi narrowed his eyes. “Pay attention, brat. I said, let’s go grab a drink at the bar before we begin. You very clearly need it. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Eren didn’t have time to respond, because suddenly Levi had grabbed his wrist and was pulling him through the crowd of people.

It was not an easy task, but eventually they made it to the bar, a round counter in the center of the room.

Levi easily caught the attention of the red-headed female bartender, who blushed profusely and twisted a lock of hair as she presumably asked Levi what he’d like. Levi ordered, a bored look on his face, and the woman lent down behind the counter. Eren watched the way she strategically moved behind the counter, obviously trying to seduce the attractive man in front of her. Levi made no attempt to look even mildly interested.

She came up with four shot glasses and a beer glass. Eren turned away, distracted by the actions of the other people at the club. After a few moments, he felt himself pulled toward the bar.

He let out a single bark of laughter upon seeing the drinks placed in front of them. “A Jägerbomb? Really?”

Levi just gave him that same sly smirk he had seen earlier, “I thought it’d be appropriate.”

Eren looked at the other three shots, then back to Levi.

“I, uh, I don’t really do well with alcohol.”

“Just drink what you want,” Levi said, downing a shot of dark liquid in one go. He didn’t react, even though whenever Eren did shots (it was never his idea), he was left gasping at the burning feeling that accompanied the liquid as it slid down his throat.

“What was that?” Eren asked, gesturing to the now-empty shot glass.

“Whiskey,” Levi answered.

Eren frowned, determined not to look like a total killjoy in front of Levi.

…Levi, who he was in a club with.

…Levi, who was in very, very tight jeans.

Eren hastily grabbed the Jägerbomb and chugged it in one go. Levi raised an eyebrow.

After that, Levi and Eren both finished the remaining shots. Eren felt the alcohol immediately go to his head, but Levi looked completely unaffected, much to Eren’s chagrin.

Suddenly, he found himself pulled onto the dance floor by Levi.

“Okay, I brought you here so you could learn to loosen the fuck up. Every time you go to dance, you stiffen up like a metal pole. You need to learn to just let go and enjoy yourself. No one gives shit if you look like a complete moron, as long as you’re confident. Watch.”

Levi effortlessly began to move with the music, and after a few moments, members of both sexes closed in on him, dancing along.

Eren stopped wondering why Levi had brought him to such a place. It was clear that Levi was a natural dancer no matter where he went. Though Hanji had told him that Levi was a tad socially awkward, there was no sign of that stern professor in the man moving his body in time with the music in front of him.

An eagerness to know more about Levi rushed through his chest. Eren realized that there were so many sides to the other man he hadn’t seen. He wondered if he’d ever have the time or the energy to discover them all.

Levi’s eyes found him, and something flashed in them that sent Eren’s heart into overdrive.

He found himself stepping toward the man, brushing up against countless other people as he did so.

“You ready?” Levi whispered a bit breathlessly. Eren felt heat pool in the bottom of his stomach.

Suddenly, he found himself modelling what he had seen Levi do earlier. No longer a stiff and nervous mess, he found his hips moving in time with the beat.

“Not bad,” Levi said with a musical chuckle, and Eren grinned with newfound confidence. Levi’s hands grabbed part of the front of his shirt, and Eren found himself being pulled into a less packed area of the dance floor.

“I don’t think I can get drunk before I dance with Mikasa,” Eren said with a small laugh, feeling nervous again at the fact that Levi still hadn’t let go of him. His hands had found Eren’s shoulders, and Eren was finding it hard to form coherent thoughts.

“You’re drunk? Wow, you really are a lightweight,” Levi said with a raised eyebrow, though he continued to dance with Eren. The two of them almost moved as one, and Eren moved his hands down to Levi’s hips.

“Not from the alcohol,” he said lowly, and Eren thought he saw surprise flicker in Levi’s eyes, but the older man contained it well.

Eren found it hard to breathe as he stared into Levi’s eyes, which were now fixed on his face.

He found himself wondering if Levi’s eyes were grey or a very pale blue. With all the lights flickering around them, they looked brighter than usual. Maybe it was just because they were closer.

“Eren.”

Eren tried not to think about the fact that he could easily bend down and kiss Levi.

He tried not to think about how it was definitely past midnight, and how he could blame it on exhaustion and alcohol, and not a crush he had been harboring for three damn years.

He really, really was trying.

“Eren.”

Eren’s heartbeat was louder than the music.

He could do it.

He was totally going to do it.

He was absolutely going to kiss Levi because he had been waiting patiently for three damn years and here he was in a club with Levi and they were basically skin to skin and Levi’s eyes were definitely blue, how did he not notice before?

Eren began to lean forward, but suddenly Levi broke away from his hold and turned around.

“It’s 2 A.M. We should both head home. You work on Saturdays, don’t you?”

Eren wanted to scream.

Levi began walking toward the exit, making his way through the thick crowd.

“Wait!” Eren gasped, stumbling after him.

Outside the club, Levi regarded him with a cool stare.

Still flushed from the excitement of dancing with Levi and feeling woozy from the alcohol and the suddenly change in temperature from going outside into the bitter cold from being in the raw heat of the club, Eren felt himself pitch to the left suddenly.

“Hey—!” Luckily, Levi reached out and steadied him in time, his unreadable look from before replaced by one of concern. “Careful.”

Eren nodded, bringing a hand to his head. “Sorry,” he murmured, trying not to look at Levi.

He was pissed—at himself for getting so caught up in the moment, at Levi because Eren was certain now that he had known what Eren had been about to do, and at the world for giving him such an indescribable night only to have it end in a wave of nausea and crushed desire.

“Let’s grab a taxi. I’ll drop you off at your place before I head to mine,” Levi said, walking toward the street to wave down a cab.

Eren watched him, self-pity seeping through his veins.

The cab ride home was relatively silent. Levi didn’t even look at him, and Eren tried to stop himself from stealing more than just a few glances.

When they made it to the front of his dorm building, Levi gave him a short nod.

“I expect to see a noticeable improvement on Monday,” he said, a serious look on his face.

“Yeah,” Eren said faintly, not knowing how else to respond.

Levi went to close the door of the cab, but Eren stopped him, keeping it open. Levi looked up at him with a quizzical frown.

Determination coursing through his veins, Eren looked Levi in the eye. “Levi,” he began, “I—”

Something in Levi’s frown, his furrowed brow, and the way he tore his eyes away from Eren’s, made him stop.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” Eren finished lamely, not completing his original thought. “For tonight. It was fun. And, uh, I think it helped. So, yeah. Monday.”

He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. Eren was sure it was obvious what he had been about to say, and Levi’s anticipatory reaction told him all he needed to know.

Levi just wanted to help him, nothing more. Levi was a good person, a determined teacher, and a figure full of secrets Eren would probably never get the chance to discover, because Levi didn’t want him back.

“Careful going on up, and get some rest,” Levi advised, still not looking at him.

“Goodnight,” Eren said quietly, miserably.

Levi just nodded, still looking toward the front of the taxi.

Eren watched the taxi turn the corner and sighed.

He stood outside for a good ten more minutes just staring after the car, replaying the events of the night in his head, watching the white swirls of his breath twist into the night sky.

Chapter Text

Eren woke up at 7 A.M. on Saturday lacking the headache he had been expecting, but hit with waves of nausea in its place.

He showered and dressed slowly, and was out the door by 7:45. He found the cool winter air refreshing, and within the ten minutes it took to walk to the library café he worked at, he began to feel remarkably less ill.

He was greeted with a monotone “Morning” courtesy of his coworker, Annie, as he threw on his apron. He had gone to high school with Annie, and they’d actually gone out once.

The night had ended with Eren standing on Annie’s front doorstep, about to lean in for a goodnight kiss (his first, no less!), when she had stopped him with a hand over his mouth. Instead of tasting cherry chapstick, he’d tasted salt from the popcorn they’d shared; definitely not the highlight of his day.

“You’re gay, aren’t you.”

It hadn’t even been a question. She’d said it with a face completely devoid of emotion, and Eren had nearly pissed himself in a panic.

She had sighed, told him that every time she’d tried to make a move on him (“You tried to make a move on me?!” He had responded incredulously. “Several,” she had said frankly.), he had looked like he was a skydiver still trying to decide whether or not he actually wanted to jump out of a plane and risk his life after all.

“It shouldn’t be like that,” she had said sagely. “You should want to kiss someone, not feel obligated to.”

He had apologized profusely, but she had shaken her head with a small smile, the first he’d ever seen make an appearance on her face. “Don’t be sorry, and don’t be ashamed of yourself,” she had told him, and those words had cemented her place in his heart as a really, really good person despite her somewhat cold personality.

After writing down the specials for the day in many different colors of chalk (Ginger-Pumpkin Lattes, Coconut Mochas, and Peppermint Frappes), he made his way back behind the counter to man the register.

A few hours passed idly, with Eren greeting and thanking customers, ringing them up, apologizing for spelling their names wrong on their cups, and drawing doodles on stray napkins.

At 1:56 P.M., just a few minutes before his shift officially ended, he looked up to see a familiar figure enter the café in a black coat and a grey scarf. Letting out a small noise of panic, he grabbed Annie by the hand and pulled her into the back room.

“Eren, what’s—”

“Did you see that guy that walked in?”

Eren cut her off in a desperate, hushed tone.

“Huh?”

Annie was having none of his bullshit; exasperated, she gave him a look like he was on drugs.

“The short guy, black hair, glasses. Did you see him?” Eren asked, staring at her with wide eyes.

Understanding dawned on her face. “Oh, Professor Ackerman?”

“You know L—Professor Ackerman?” Eren replied incredulously.

“I’m a History major, of course I know him. I’m actually one of his TAs,” Annie confessed, looking at Eren with a newly furrowed brow.

“Annie!” Eren yelped in frustration, throwing his hands up in the air.

“What?” She asked, growing more confused by the minute.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” He whined, shoving his face in his hands as if all hope was lost.

Annie just continued to look at him like he was nuts. She brought a hand up to swipe her blonde bangs out her face as she responded. “Why does it matter?”

“Ugh, nevermind. Look, if he asks, tell him I called in sick. I’m pretty sure he didn’t see me, so that should work,” Eren mumbled the last part to himself, chin resting thoughtfully in his hands.

Annie frowned. “Wait, how do you know Professor Ackerman? You’re a Biology major.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m just pretty sure he’s going to ask why I’m not working today so just tell him I’m sick, Annie, please!” Eren begged, clutching her hands and looking at her with wide eyes.

Annie slapped his hands away. “Alright, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

She then walked nonchalantly back into the fray as Eren hid behind the closed door. The minute he heard voices, he pressed his ear up to the door, hoping to catch their inevitable conversation. Unfortunately, he found that he could only hear tidbits of speech.

“…morning, Professor.”

Okay, that was definitely Annie. She seems casual. Good. Thank goodness for Annie’s smooth personality.

“…in today?”

Levi sounds like he’s frowning. Eren had learned to determine his facial expression by hearing his voice. That and there was usually like a 95% chance Levi was frowning at any given time. He just had that kind of face. Eren didn’t really mind it at all.

“…sick.”

Thank you, Annie, thank you, thank you.

“…him a call.”

Wait, what?!

“…good idea.”

No, Annie, you suck, you suck!

“…riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight now.”

Suddenly, Eren’s phone began ringing very loudly.

He groaned, and swiped to answer.

“Hello?” He asked dejectedly, already knowing what awaited him on the other end.

“What kind of game are you playing, huh?” The voice on the other end greeted him darkly. “Stop hiding and get your ass out here, you moron.”

Eren stepped into the café proper like a scolded child, head hanging a little low.

Eren could have sworn he saw Annie smirk at him out of the corner of his eye. He shot her a glare, but it disappeared and was replaced with an apathetic shrug.

In front of him was a very disgruntled Levi.

“How did you know I was here?” Eren asked miserably.

Levi gestured toward the specials board. “Your ridiculous handwriting, obviously. And the fact that you came into work when you had pneumonia last year. You wouldn’t miss work even if you had the worst fucking hangover of all time.”

Annie watched the interaction with a moderate amount of interest, and Eren began to feel self-conscious of the people around them.

“Look, can we talk after I clock out? Like, five minutes?” Eren asks, practically begging Levi to end the awkward conversation for the moment.

Levi shrugged, “Yeah, whatever, sure. Just grab me a jasmine tea before you head over.”

After a few moments, Eren had wiped down the counters and tables and the rest of the cafégoers had shuffled back out into the cold. He made Levi’s tea, clocked out, and walked over to where Levi was sitting. Levi put down the newspaper he was looking at and regarded Eren coolly.

“You gonna tell me why you were acting so weird earlier?” He asked, raising a single eyebrow as he took a sip of his tea.

Eren just played with his hands, trying not to look Levi in the eye. “I, uh. I don’t know. I got nervous, I guess.”

“Why the hell would you get nervous? I come to this café all the damn time. I have the hole in my wallet to prove it,” Levi griped.

“I just feel weird, okay? Not myself. Sorry. Won’t happen again,” Eren said, looking up to glower at Levi. He didn’t like being pressed, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that he was pissed off at himself for backing out of confessing his feelings and pissed off at Levi for preemptively rejecting him.

“Well, I just wanted to check up on you. You were acting a little weird last night on the ride home. I was afraid I made you uncomfortable last night,” Levi said, and Eren saw a corner of his lips twitch downward, as if he were the one who was uncomfortable.

“It was more…confusing,” Eren admitted, shaking his head. “I mean, since when do you frequent nightclubs?”

Levi’s gaze hardened.

“Hanji didn’t tell you?” He asked in a tight voice.

“Tell me what?” Eren asked, frowning.

Levi’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

“I mean, I figured since you two spend so much time together, and with her big mouth…I thought you just hadn’t mentioned it because you were being polite…” Levi murmured, bringing up a hand to rub at the back of his beck.

“Mentioned what, exactly?” Eren asked timidly. There was something new flashing in the stormy—blue, now he knew they were blue, like skies about to give way to a hurricane, maybe—eyes piercing his own, and Eren was desperate to latch onto it.

“I guess now’s a good time as any to explain,” Levi sighed, and Eren watched as he leaned forward to rest his chin on top of his hands.

Eren unconsciously felt himself lean forward, and felt his hands curl into loose fists.

“I ran with a bad crowd in my teen years,” Levi began, voice soft. “After Isabel—that was my foster-sister, the one who liked dancing—after she died, I kind of lost it. I didn’t like spending time at home, because my foster-mom always looked at me like she wished it had been me, not Isabel, who got sick…it sucked.”

Levi paused for a moment, and Eren watched him close his eyes for a few seconds before opening them and beginning again.

“I started staying out late, met a crew of guys who convinced me that money was my one-way ticket to a better life. Back then, the capital was infested with crime. Pickpocketing was a common problem, but few were ever caught for it. There were bigger fish to fry and not enough cops to go around in the first place.”

“I still went to school and made pretty good marks, but my real life existed after dark. I frequented the clubs because it was the easiest place to pick up a stray purse, a watch, a phone—anything I could sell for petty cash was fair game.”

“My friend, Furlan, taught me how to pickpocket. He was the best of the best, so I got pretty damn good pretty fast. The problem was that I stuck out in clubs. I had no style, and I definitely didn’t know how to dance.”

Levi looked up and threw Eren a wry smile.

Eren just stared at him, the shock of his story taking away his ability to speak.

“So, Furlan taught me to dance. I thought it was dumb and I resisted at first, but then I remembered how happy it made Isabel, and I started taking it seriously.”

“Once I got more comfortable, I began enjoying the scene not just because clubs were a perfect place to steal shit, but because I legitimately liked dancing. I liked the energy, the music, the crowd. Sure, it was filthy and illegal and probably really fucking dangerous, but I felt free.”

“I probably should have seen it coming. A year later, I got caught going into a club called The Underground by a senior at my school. His name was Erwin Smith.”

“Erwin Smith as in the Erwin you dated?!” Eren blurted out, eyes wide.

Levi scowled, “How do you even know about that? Nevermind. I don’t care. Yeah, that Erwin.”

Levi eyed Eren for a moment as Eren tried to collect himself.

“Anyway, long story short: he blackmailed me. That bastard was the School President, the Superintendent’s son, and the most manipulative asshole I’d ever met. He told me that I had to stop all criminal activities cold turkey, or else he’d rat me out. A criminal record would mean the end of any kind of respectable future, and I wasn’t dumb. I knew that he had me cornered. I agreed, of course.”

“And yeah, we started dating, but we broke up when he went off to college the next year,” Levi waved a hand, dismissing it with an air of distaste. “Then, we dated when we were both at Trost, but it was just a second trainwreck, and after a while we agreed that we were better off as friends.”

Levi sighed, cracking his neck.

“Anyway, there you are. I’m not exactly the greatest role model, but I worked hard to turn shit around. I still have my vices, though.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Eren said earnestly.

“Well, I have known you for—how long now?”

“Three years in December,” He said automatically, then realized how embarrassing it was that it had been on the tip of his tongue.

“Ah, speaking of December. Here. I was going to stop at the post office to mail these off, but you can have yours now,” Levi handed him a gilded envelope across the coffee table.

Eren blinked as he took what was handed to him. “What is it?”

“An invitation to my 35th birthday party. Don’t you dare make an old man joke, shitty brat. Hanji’s making it a big deal because she did some calculations based on my health records and decided I would live to be 105, so she’s calling it my ‘1/3 of the way to death’ party.”

“That’s horrible,” Eren said with a smile.

“That’s Hanji. Anyway, it’s on December 24th. I know you probably have family plans or something but—”

“I’ll be there.”

Levi paused, then looked across the table at Eren with something akin to curiosity in his eyes. Slowly, he cracked a smile that matched Eren’s own.

“Good.”

Chapter Text

Before Eren knew it, November had passed in a haze of holiday music played far too early and pumpkin-related foodstuffs.

Mondays continued to bring a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety. He found himself—quite literally—dancing on the line between heartache and happiness each time Levi’s hands met his own. Since Levi revealed his past to Eren, it felt like something had changed, but Eren couldn’t put his finger on what it was, exactly.

Before, when their eyes would meet as Eren focused on remembering the correct number of steps to take to the left, or worked on keeping his arms in the correct position, it felt like Levi was looking past him. The impersonal feeling it left Eren with had bothered him, yes, but it had also felt safe; he could blush and falter all he wanted, since it seemed like Levi was hardly scrutinizing his every reaction.

Now, Levi looked at Eren like he was searching for something.

The first time Eren noticed it, they had been in the middle of the waltz. Eren had greatly improved over the past few weeks, and Levi had told him as much after the first few steps. Eren hadn’t been able to help the smile that spread across his face, and the spring in his step that lent a new, lighter feel to the dance.

“Don’t get too cocky,” Levi huffed as Eren twirled him around in a particularly dramatic fashion.

Eren just laughed and pulled him back into the standard hold.

The next time he looked down, he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Levi’s eyes were slightly narrowed, but not in an angry manner. It was the look Eren was pretty sure he got when he was at work trying to decide between whether he wanted a free Blueberry muffin or a free Pumpkin scone, knowing he could only have one. Levi looked like he was trying to make a particularly difficult decision.

Yet, there was a softness in his eyes that Eren rarely got a chance to see.

While Eren had been unsure of whether Levi was really looking at him before, he was sure now.

The question, then, was why Levi was looking at him with something like sadness in his eyes. He knew Levi rarely looked joyful, but there was something deep and somewhat indescribable in the way he was looking at Eren now.

“You okay?” Eren asked hesitantly, slowing to a stop.

Levi immediately seemed to revert back to his normal self. His face stiffened, his eyes narrowed, and his lips curled downward ever so slightly.

“Did I say you could stop?”

“No, sir,” Eren said sarcastically in reply, all the while feeling guilty that he was relieved that Levi was back to his old self, even if—for whatever reason—it was just an act.

A new nervousness accompanied Eren each time he stepped into the underground dance room, and it wasn’t entirely positive. Though it was scary to think that Levi had deemed him worthy of opening up to, however, it left Eren unsure of where he stood in relation to Levi.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but for some reason Eren couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that Levi was just as attached to Eren as Eren was to him.

---

The second Monday in December, Eren woke up shivering.

He immediately reasoned that his heating had somehow been turned off in the middle of the night, so he decided to get up and check it out.

Before he could even pull himself up, however, he was hit with a wave of dizziness and full-body aches.

His head pounding and his throat dry, he moaned. Mikasa had told him to be sure to get a flu shot, but between working in Hanji’s lab, his dissertation, trying to figure out what to do with his life after graduating, and his constant paranoia that Levi would find out he had a titanic crush on him and never want to see him again, he hadn’t really had a chance to do so.

Bringing a cold hand to his forehead, he winced.

He was burning up.

Sighing, he grabbed his cell phone and started a new text to Levi.

Lucky you—I have the flu, so I can’t come tonight. Enjoy your night off!

After writing the text, he promptly flopped back down and pulled every blanket in the vicinity over his head, coughing as he did so.

---

Eren awoke to the sound of his phone buzzing and ringing simultaneously.

Grunting, he grabbed it. Before pressing the “answer” button, he registered that it was 4:54 P.M. He was only mildly shocked he had slept that long.

“Hello?” he asked, wincing at the pain that shot through his throat as he spoke.

“I’m outside your door, come let me in.”

Eren’s eyes widened.

“Levi?”

“Of course it’s me, you moron. Now drag your sorry ass out of bed and unlock your door.”

Eren shot up, flustered. He was wearing old sweatpants and a grey Trost University shirt that definitely used to be black. Running a hand through his hair, he groaned at the thought of how bad his bedhead must be.

“I, uh, I’m still in my pajamas…”

“Obviously. I don’t care. Let me in.”

Dragging himself to the door to his apartment-style dorm room, Eren tried to ignore how much he felt like utter shit and the terrifying pounding in his chest.

He opened the door a crack, his hand very nearly shaking.

“I, uh, I texted you this morning at 9. I’m sick,” Eren said hoarsely.

“I know, and if you care about your health at all, you’ll let me in.”

Confused, Eren peered through the crack between the door and his wall.

Standing there with several white plastic hands and a frown on his face was Levi.

Levi, who looked up at him with furrowed brows, and said, “I have soup.”

There was perfect silence for a moment as Eren registered the situation. Here was Levi, still immaculately dressed after what was definitely a long day spent teaching, standing outside the door to his apartment, holding soup. Probably more than soup, Eren figured, since soup did not take up several bags unless he figured Eren ate a lot of damn soup.

There were so many questions on his mind that he didn’t even notice when Levi had pushed the door open and moved him aside as he walked into the dorm.

Levi scanned his surroundings, then turned to Eren.

“I expected you to be a lot messier. Not bad. Clean roommates?”

“My roommate, Armin, is studying abroad this semester. It’s just me here,” Eren said faintly.

“Ah. It’s good I came, then.” Levi set his bags on Eren’s tiny kitchen table, and began taking off his coat and scarf.

“How did you get up here?” Eren asked, suddenly questioning the security of his dorm building.

“Nile and I go way back. He told me what room you were in.”

“Oh,” Eren said, because really, he kind of figured that he would never stop being surprised by Levi, so he might as well get used to it now.

“Okay, where do you keep your pots and pans?” Levi had made his way into Eren’s tiny kitchenette. Eren followed him in, and opened up a cabinet directly across from the dishwasher.

“Here,” he said, handing Levi a pot.

Levi grimaced. “I hope you washed your hands before you grabbed that.”

Eren sighed and threw his hands up in the air, not prepared for another speech about how many germs were just transferred from his hand to the handle of the formerly clean pot.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Whatever, just tell me where the cups are so I can pour you some water. You need to take some medicine.”

“The cabinet above the sink. Just to your left,” Eren responded, pointing. Levi gave a short nod and reached up to grab a cup. Eren would have laughed because Levi had to really reach for the cup, but he knew he should not be biting the hand that was quite literally feeding him.

Come to think of it…

“Why are you here?” Eren asked frankly, suddenly all too conscious of the strangeness of the situation.

Eren would consider them friends, but he’d never been inside Levi’s apartment, and Levi had certainly never entered his dorm room. They knew where each other lived thanks to their frequent walks home, but they hadn’t really crossed those barriers of intimacy. Eren supposed there hadn’t really been a reason, but at the same time, it wasn’t like Eren was currently dying…

“I figured that if you were so sick you weren’t willing to go to class anyway, you were probably feeling pretty shitty. I also figured that you wouldn’t be properly taking care of yourself, and I was right. You haven’t taken any medicine or eaten all day, right? Here, take this,” Levi said, handing a very stunned Eren a tall glass full of water with a disappointed scowl.

“I’m going to heat up the soup, but it should only take a second because it was still pretty hot when I picked it up. Wait, I forgot to ask if you’re a vegetarian or not. I got chicken noodle and mushroom barley, just in case,” Levi said, taking out two quarts of what looked to be restaurant-quality soup and looking between them with a concentrated frown.

“Chicken is great, thanks,” Eren said, swallowing hard.

It was so stupid, but for some reason he just wanted to start crying. With Armin gone and Mikasa preoccupied with Jean, Eren had been trying very hard to ignore the loneliness that had begun to surround his day to day life. Sure, he was constantly surrounded by classmates and coworkers he got along with very well, but no one had been stopping by to play video games for no reason or asking him to lunch out of the blue.

But here was Levi, Levi who rarely looked like he enjoyed social interaction, Levi who constantly treated him like he was an irksome small child, Levi who had turned away from him with a frown when a confession had been on the tip of his tongue.

And he had brought soup.

He tried not to, but he found himself imagining Levi trudging to the small deli across the street from the History faculty, deciding what kind of soup to buy after a long day of work, buying said soup, and walking to Eren’s dorm to sweet talk the gruff security guard into letting him into the student housing facility.

He couldn’t stop the warmth that spread throughout his cold, flu-ridden body.

“Go get in bed, I’ll come in when it’s ready,” Levi said, back to him as he stirred the soup on the stove.

Eren nodded, though Levi could not see it, and stepped back into his bedroom.

Curling back up in his rumpled bed sheets, he decided that he would never, ever tell Levi how he felt if it meant he wouldn’t barge into his house to shove medicine down his throat and tell him he was an idiot while he cooked for him.

He’d take it to his grave, if he had to.

---

Eren didn’t realize he’d drifted off until he felt a cool hand on his forehead.

“Hey, kid, wake up. I have food.”

Sputtering, Eren shot up. The coolness on his forehead was replaced by the burning feeling of his flu-induced fever.

“Calm down, it’s me. You were only asleep for ten minutes or so, but you have to eat since you took the medicine.” Levi handed Eren a tray with soup, utensils, and a fresh glass of water.

“It won’t be too hot anymore, since I took it off the stove around the time you fell back asleep,” he said, cracking his neck as he sat down in Eren’s computer chair across the room.

“Thanks,” Eren said, shifting his body so that he was comfortable in an upright position, careful not to spill the soup.

He looked at Levi, who was busy digging through his messenger bag.

“Really,” he began, clearing his throat once he realized how raspy his voice was, “You didn’t have to do this. You should let me pay you back, at least.”

Levi sighed, coming back up with a stack of papers in his arms. He dropped them into his lap and crossed his arms, looking at Eren with an annoyed expression on his face. “Look, Eren, I never do anything because I feel obligated to. If people tell me to do something, I only do it if I agree. But I definitely didn’t feel obligated to bring your sick ass food and no one told me to do it, so that means I did it because I wanted to.”

Eren looked away from Levi’s face, embarrassed. “S-sorry. I just meant, it’s really…it’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.”

“What?” Levi asked, since Eren had mumbled the last part.

“It’s really nice of you. Thanks. I appreciate it a lot,” Eren said, louder this time, fighting the blush that threatened to conquer his cheekbones.

“No problem.” Levi replied, as he adjusted his glasses and took out a red pen.

“Uh, don’t you want to go home? It’s getting kind of late,” Eren said after a few comfortable moments of silence. He had finished his soup in record time, not having realized until just then how hungry he was after a day of unintentional fasting.

Eren watched Levi shrug without looking up from the pile of papers he was currently marking up. “I don’t mind sticking around for a while. Unless you’d rather be alone.”

“No,” Eren said abruptly, something like desperation sneaking into his voice. He clenched his hands into fists underneath his navy comforter, “I don’t mind.”

“I’ll stay until I finish grading these essays,” Levi murmured. “May take a while. They’re fucking awful, and I’m already fairly certain two are plagiarized.”

Eren smiled to himself as he pulled the comforter up to his chin. “If I fall asleep and you want to leave, don’t worry about the door. It locks itself,” he said with a yawn.

Levi hummed in agreement, not once looking up from his work.

Eren fell back asleep to the sound of Levi’s pen scraping furiously against paper and snow settling on his windowsill.

---

He woke up to cool pressure on his blazing forehead.

“Sleeping like the dead…”

He fought the urge to give into his shock and bolt upright.

The weight on his forehead, the closeness of that familiar voice…

“At least you don’t snore.”

He didn’t dare open his eyes.

Levi was right next to him, running a hand across his forehead.

He heard a long sigh. His heart began to beat triple its usual rate, and he put all of his effort into keeping still.

“This is such a mess,” he heard Levi murmur.

Suddenly, the hand moved from his forehead to softly brush through his hair.

“I’m so fucked,” he heard him chuckle darkly.

Eren so wanted to open his eyes, but something held him back.

What if it’s just a dream?

He didn’t think he wanted to know; he didn’t want to be disappointed by the truth.

Eren’s heart rate slowed again, and he felt himself drifting back to sleep.

The last thing he remembered was a different kind of pressure on his forehead than before—soft, warm—and the click of his front door as it closed.

When he woke up again the next day, feeling much better but not yet in perfect health, Eren was unsure whether or not it was all part of his imagination, a dream induced by a combination of exhaustion and fever-reducers.

Chapter Text

Eren recovered from his illness in roughly three days, but it took twice as long for him to recover from the news that he’d be spending Christmas day at Jean’s home in Trost with Mikasa.

Since they were young, the tradition had always been that Eren, Mikasa, and Armin spent Christmas together. They were all the three really had left; even when Mikasa and Eren were taken in by a friend of their parents, Hannes, they continued their tradition of ordering Chinese food, playing video games, and watching movies until well past midnight.

With Armin in Germany studying engineering, however, Eren was forced to acknowledge the fact that this year would be the first they would not spend with each other.

It would have been one thing to spend Christmas with just Mikasa, where they could both share in the loneliness born of Armin’s absence. It was another entirely to have Mikasa ask him to spend the day with her significant other’s (he still tiptoed around the term “fiancé”) family—people he’d never met before.

The issue wasn’t even his deep-seated distaste for Jean as a human being. It was the fact that Mikasa was moving forward without him. Mikasa had found a new family. Mikasa had just had him for so long—they’d just had each other, and now here she was, surrounded by people who were not just Eren.

Hell, even Armin would probably come back from Germany with a hot engineer wife!

And, all the while, Eren would stand off to the side, watching them laugh and kiss and do whatever goofy couples do while he continued to pine over a History professor with a penchant for shit jokes.

Eren growled as he threw off his covers.

No more.

It was decided.

He had to tell Levi how he felt, and he had to do it during his birthday party.

---

“Remind me again who you’re shopping for?” Mikasa’s eyes furrowed as she watched Eren dart from one shelf to another.

It was eight days before Christmas, and the two siblings were in a large department store called Maria’s in downtown Trost.

“It’s just a friend,” Eren replied dismissively, hoping that Mikasa wouldn’t press him for details.

“Uh huh,” she responded, and he just knew Mikasa was raising an eyebrow in disbelief even though his back was to her.

After a few moments spent scrutinizing two designer ties, Eren put them back and sighed in distress.

“I just don’t know what to get him,” he moaned.

Eren had decided a few days ago how he would confess to Levi while at Hanji’s place. He’d lure him aside under the guise of wanting to give him his gift, and then he’d tell him how he really felt. He’d probably throw in a lot of cheesy lines about love at first sight, time stopping when he looked at him, how he wanted to dance with him at their beachside wedding (okay, maybe that was too much for one speech, but he’d been waiting three damn years, after all, he’d had a lot of time to think about it).

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you just buy the midget a new Swiffer.”

“Mikasa!” Eren cried, horrified that she had him all figured out. Frowning, he decided that it was probably too late to be ashamed of himself.

Mikasa had found out about Eren’s crush a little over a year ago; the next day, she had already slipped into one of Levi’s introductory courses in order to stalk her brother’s love interest.

She had proclaimed that he was short, boring, pretentious, and looked like a serial killer, but Eren knew it was just her protectiveness talking.

Or so he hoped.

“Actually, that’s not an entirely terrible idea…”

“It was a joke, Eren,” she said flatly. “No normal human being would want cleaning supplies for their birthday, or Christmas.”

Eren was about to open his mouth and retort that Levi was really anything but normal, but Mikasa scrunched her nose in distaste and beat him to it.

“Well, he definitely isn’t an ordinary human being, but you get the point.”

Eren just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I just…I usually get a really good idea and I think he likes it, I mean he isn’t really vocal about it, but one time I painted him something and Hanji told me he got it framed and it’s hanging in his living room, and he doesn’t just do that stuff to be nice, he must have actually liked it, and that’s a big deal! Levi doesn’t just like things, he—”

“Shouldn’t it be enough that you’re finally telling him that you like him?” Mikasa said, cutting off Eren’s rambling with practiced ease.

He immediately stopped gesticulating and paled.

“H-h-h-how—” He sputtered, and Mikasa just gave him that rare tiny smile of hers.

“I’m your sister. I know all your secrets.”

Suddenly, she was pulling him toward her.

“I definitely don’t approve, you know,” she murmured into his shoulder, “But I’m not really one to talk since it’s not like you’re Jean’s biggest fan…”

“Damn straight,” Eren grunted, his voice muffled by Mikasa’s hair.

“He’s a bigger asshole than I thought if he doesn’t like you back,” she said softly, earnestly.

Eren put his arms around her.

“Look how awkward we’re being in a department store,” he whispered.

“It’s funny because I’m adopted and they probably think we’re dating since we don’t look alike at all,” Mikasa deadpanned.

“Gross.”

They broke into chuckles every few moments for the next hour, and spent a good amount of that time holding hands and calling each other really awful pet names (“Want to stop somewhere for lunch after this, pookie?” “Of course, honey bear!”) for the hell of it.

---

Eren wrapped and rewrapped the gift he had finally chosen several times, feeling ridiculously self-conscious about the kind of decorative paper he was using.

This one has hearts on it and I didn’t even notice, oh God…

Does Levi prefer green or red? Or should I go with something more neutral, like silver?

Wait, should I be using birthday wrapping paper?!

Should I have just gotten two gifts?!

He finally settled on gold wrapping paper and a red satin bow to top it all off. He never gave Levi a card, because Levi had once told him that he thought they were a waste of paper and full of mass-produced sentiment.

Instead of writing a heartfelt prelude to what was to be his first real confession, he scribbled “To: Levi, From: Eren” on the paper itself in a Sharpie pen, and stood back from his desk to admire his work.

It wasn’t perfect; the wrapping was a bit frayed around the folded down edges and one side had more paper wrapped underneath it than the other. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but think about how this may be the first gift he ever gave to Levi as his boyfriend.

The anxiety and joy at that thought were almost indistinguishable.

---

Before he knew it, finals week had passed in a cycle of anxiety and relief, and it was the afternoon of the 24th.

Glancing at the clock above his desk, he figured he had about an hour to get ready before he’d need to be at Hanji’s. He didn’t want to come right at the beginning of the party and look awkwardly out of place (he was usually one of the youngest people at Hanji’s parties since he was a little bit out of their age bracket), but he didn’t want to come so late that he wouldn’t get a chance to speak with Levi, either.

Though he had planned his outfit out the day before, Eren still took quite a long time fussing over his clothing. A few days earlier, Hanji had been weirdly interested in what he was going to wear.

“What color shirt are you going to wear? Are you wearing jeans or slacks? What about ties? A bow tie, maybe?” Hanji had clasped his hands excitedly out of the blue while he was typing up a lab report, after he had offhandedly asked her whether or not the dress code was different than previous years because this year’s party was mostly in honor of Levi’s birthday.

“Uh, I haven’t really—”

“Grey, wear grey! It’ll bring out your eyes. They’re so big and green…definitely grey. Black pants—jeans? The ones you wear when you work at the café? Those are nice.” Hanji nodded to herself as she sized Eren up. Eren just shifted uncomfortably, wondering whether or not this counted as harassment in the workplace.

“Uh, I don’t—”

“Well, that sounds perfect! I agree. Go with that.” Hanji nodded once, firmly, then nearly skipped across the room to finish writing the final exam for her biotechnology course.

So, Eren stood in front of the mirror in his room in a new slate grey dress shirt, his black skinny jeans, and a new pair of black ankle boots that were a bit more formal than his usual beat-up sneakers.

Despite the fact that he definitely looked more mature than usual (he’d even go so far as to say he looked really good), he wondered about stupid things, like which black belt to wear, and if his jeans looked a little too wrinkly.

He spent a decent amount of time glaring at his hair. He had constant bedhead. Eren had never really cared what his hair looked like; he washed it and that was the extent of the effort he put toward his brown locks. Nevertheless, he found himself wishing he knew more about how to style his hair. His clothing made him look older, but the state of his hair still made him feel like an awkward sixteen year old (after all, he hadn’t really changed his haircut in five years).

He ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back from his face. Blinking, he realized it made him look rather mature, and made his eyes more noticeable.

He squinted. They were really green, as Hanji had so eloquently stated.

Heart pounding, he glanced at the clock and realized he needed to get going if he wanted to arrive at the perfect time, somewhere between “punctual” and “playing it cool.”

He grabbed his nicer winter coat—a wool peacoat instead of his preferred puffy down jacket—and skidded out the door.

---

Hanji’s apartment was a good twenty minute walk from his dorm, but Eren didn’t mind it. His whole body felt like it was on fire, he was so nervous.

Eren couldn’t help but think of what he would do if Levi rejected him, or—impossibly—Levi loved him back.

Either way, everything was about to change.

Before he knew it, Eren was stepping into the hallway of Hanji’s apartment building. After a short elevator ride up, he was standing in front of her door, trying not to hyperventilate.

Before he could even knock, the door burst open.

“Eren!” Hanji cried, pulling him into a huge bear hug.

“Erk,” Eren said, intelligently.

“I saw you buzz in, don’t worry, I’m not psychic—yet! Ooh, new experiment idea. I wonder if I could—”

“Here,” Eren said, handing Hanji a bottle of red wine wrapped nicely in a sparkly purple and green polka-dotted bag (for some reason, he felt like it matched Hanji’s personality too well not to buy it).

“Oh, Eren, you’re forever and always my favorite! See this, Moblit?” Hanji shrieked the last part. “If you really loved me, you’d buy me wine for Christmas, not jewelry! I can’t wear that in the lab!”

The blonde Ph.D student who Hanji liked to torture by making him teach the most unruly remedial Natural Sciences courses at the university just gave a long-suffering sigh.

Eren tried not to laugh. It was clear to see that Moblit was hopelessly in love with Hanji, but she was oblivious to matters of love, it would seem. Eren had a hunch he had already confessed, but Hanji had taken it as either a joke or a show of hero worship, further fuel for her already rather large ego. She was a big name in the world of scientific research, after all, something she loved to tell anyone and everyone she met.

“And you’re wearing grey! You really went all out! And that’s for Levi, right?” Hanji asked, gesturing excitedly at the gift in Eren’s arms.

Eren blushed. “Uh, yeah. Just a birthday present. Birthmas…present.”

“Perfect! He’s just in the next room, I’m sure he’ll be really happy you made it!” Hanji nearly pushed him into the next room.

When he entered Hanji’s living room, however, he saw that the small space was absolutely packed. It was unlike any other party he’d been to at Hanji’s in the past few years. It seemed like the normal amount of people who showed up had tripled, and everyone was chattering excitedly.

And at the center of it all, there was Levi, hidden by numerous people far taller than he. The man had his usual cup of red wine in his hand, but instead of looking put out by the attention, he looked rather pleased.

He looked the same as always; he was dressed in his normal outfit of a pressed white shirt and black pants, and he still had those tell-tale dark bags under his eyes, but Eren had never wanted him more than he did in that moment.

Eren saw him chuckling a bit as people talking to him wished him well, probably making some sort of bad joke about what a great achievement it was for him to be alive one more year.

He wanted nothing more than to go over, to wish Levi a happy birthday and a merry Christmas, to bend down ever so slightly and request a moment of his time later that night. He longed to see Levi’s eyes widen ever so slightly at his boldness, to memorize the questioning look that was sure to come.

For some reason, however, Eren couldn’t move. Levi’s eyes hadn’t met him once across the length of the crowded room.

Twenty minutes later, Levi hadn’t even noticed he was there. More and more people began to crowd him, to joke with him, to laugh with him.

An uncomfortable twisting feeling had settled in Eren’s stomach.

An hour later, he was on his third beer. The party had not yet died down—not in the slightest. He had hoped that people would leave Levi alone to go grab some of the catered food, but he’d had no such luck; waiters and waitresses hired for the occasion had brought the food to them, leaving Eren with no path to Levi and no way to make his presence known.

Eren still couldn’t bring himself to just go for it—to fight his way through, to confront Levi.

The problem wasn’t just the crowd, though. It was the sinking feeling that Levi didn’t need him.

Eren had always thought that he saw a special side of Levi—the kind, caring man, rather than the cold, distant professor. Levi’s laugh, Levi’s half-smile, Levi’s way of patting his head—he thought it was all reserved for him.

Now, however, he realized how childish he was to think that he was the one who had changed Levi, who had caused him to open up. Levi had a whole circle of people surrounding him Eren didn’t even know about.

The gift in his arms suddenly felt very heavy.

Eren’s face began to heat up, but it wasn’t from the anticipation of his confession—it was from the shame of having foolishly thought he even had a chance with this man, this adult with adult friends and an adult job and an adult life.

Eren was just a little kid to Levi. He was a student, like the ones whose papers he graded (Eren remembered seeing the words “See me after class.” on the top of every exam that earned less than 75 points out of 100).He was one of the kids Levi offered extra help to, because he was a good teacher and a responsible person. It wasn’t because Eren was special, or because he harbored any romantic feelings for him. It was his job.

A bitterness settled in his mouth that he wasn’t sure was just from the beer he had been drinking.

He was such a fucking idiot. What had he been thinking, wasting three years of his life on a lost cause?

Another hour passed, another few cups of beer slid down Eren’s throat. The room was spinning, but he had stopped caring ages ago. While many had left the party, expressing that they needed to prepare for huge family gatherings the next day or had to relieve babysitters of their duties, Eren had let go of the desire to make his way over to Levi.

He’d decided he would just go up, say hi, happy birthday, goodbye, and leave.

He stepped into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and was greeted by the scene of a snoring Hanji leaning on Moblit’s shoulder. The man was looking at her softly, and when Eren looked at him with raised eyebrows, Moblit just grinned and pressed a finger to his lips.

Eren made the motion of zipping his lips, implying he wouldn’t tell, and Moblit winked.

Making his way out of the kitchen, Eren felt a little bit of a renewed hope. Perhaps it was having seen Moblit’s small victory, the liquid confidence, or the way he knew he couldn’t just see his feelings as a waste of time even if he did take into account the idea that his presence in Levi’s life was rather miniscule when one took into account how he apparently had a whole bunch of friends Eren didn’t know existed.

Yet, that confidence dropped the second he saw who Levi was talking to. It seemed as though in the few minutes Eren was in the kitchen, most of the people had made their exit. Only a few people were left, and most of them were Hanji’s friends.

The only person standing by Levi was Erwin Smith.

Erwin Smith, who was standing far too close to Levi for Eren’s comfort and seemed to be whispering about something that was making Levi look flustered—all nervous glances and pink-stained cheeks.

Erwin Smith, who had taken Levi’s hands into his own.

“Hey, get away from him!” Before he could even think about what he was doing, Eren was stomping toward the two men.

All he could see was Erwin’s hand, his hand on Levi’s, and red, red, red.

“Eren!” Levi’s eyes widened in a rare moment of surprise the moment he registered the hostile look on Eren’s face.

Eren was pretty sure he was baring his teeth and snarling like a feral animal, but he didn’t really care about keeping up appearances anymore because he was so damn sick of it all.

Sick of pining after a guy who only saw him as a kid.

Sick of being in love with someone who would never even acknowledge his feelings, let alone give him a chance.

It was selfish, but it was human, and Eren just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“What the hell are you doing?” Levi asked, his face painted with equal parts frustration and confusion.

“He cheated on you, like, twice, Levi. Why do you keep going back to him? Have some fucking respect for yourself!” Eren barked, thrusting a finger in Erwin’s direction.

Levi looked mildly horrified for a moment, but then his face darkened. People around them who had previously been boasting of the good fortune this year had brought them had stopped to turn around, interested in the scene unfolding in the back of the living room.

“Even if this is what you think it is, what goes on between Erwin and I is none of your damn business.” Levi said, coldly serious.

“It is 100% my business!” Eren yelped, his face finally betraying his inner anguish.

Levi started, eyes flashing. He grabbed Eren’s arm. “What the fuck has gotten into you, how much have you had to dri—”

“Oh,” Erwin said, nodding in sudden understanding. Levi and Eren stopped suddenly, seemingly having forgotten that Erwin was standing right next to them.

A few beats of silence passed before Erwin, the perfect picture of tranquility, spoke.

“Eren, are you in love with Levi?” He asked nonchalantly, raising a single eyebrow as he studied Eren’s face curiously.

“Don’t be stupid, Erwin,” Levi said with a single sarcastic bark of laughter. After a beat, he scoffed loudly and began to shake his head.

“There’s no way Eren’s—hey!”

Levi was cut off by a box shoved at him, which managed to smack him right in the face before falling into his arms. He had let go of Eren sometime in the process.

“Happy birthday,” Eren, now free of Levi’s hold, said hoarsely. He turned around abruptly and proceeded to walk as quickly as he could toward the door of Hanji’s apartment.

The sudden realization of what he had done hit him as he felt the eyes of the party guests settle on him. He felt nothing but embarrassment slide through his veins, making his limbs shake with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.

He should have kept his fucking mouth shut. He’d screwed up everything he’d worked toward for the past three years in a matter of three minutes.

“Wait, Eren—!”

Levi’s voice followed him down the stairs, but he quickened his pace and began to leap down three steps at a time.

The last thing he needed at that moment was for Levi to see him crying like the child he believed him to be.

The minute he burst out the doors, Eren felt his limbs shift into a running position.

He only heard Levi call out once more, cursing him, before he was far away from Hanji’s apartment.

Chapter Text

Eren was unable to sleep all night, riddled with anxiety and regret.

He spent his time awake wondering how long it would take him to get over Levi—wondering how he had lasted this long, anyway.

Armin had always said that it was a good thing, really, that Eren had a temper, because bottling up emotions was even worse than letting them spill out all at once, no matter the catastrophe that usually resulted. Eren had doubted him at the time, but right now, he was kind of wishing the tenacity he had during high school hadn’t calmed once he got to college.

Then there was the possibility that maybe, just maybe, his feelings didn’t run as deep as he thought they did. Had he just been weirdly obsessed with Levi because he hadn’t had a serious relationship in the past? Maybe he wasn’t even in love with Levi—maybe Eren just hadn’t met anyone so interesting. It could just be curiosity.

Mikasa always used to tell him he rushed into things blind without thinking them through. He’d never really thought Levi through; maybe his attachment was the only part of his old, dangerously one-track-minded self that remained.

But everything he’d ever heard about love made it out to be something you didn’t really have to think too hard about. Didn’t thinking too much about it destroy some of its mystery?

Eren thought about the way he felt when Levi looked at him, when he patted him on the head, when he called him an asshole, or a shithead, or an obstinate brat. He felt his left arm move up to clutch at his chest.

Eren didn’t feel that nervousness or that warmth around anyone else. It was completely unlike what he felt around Mikasa or his parents.

With a pang, he realized that he still felt it, despite the fact that he was alone in his dark room.

“Ha,” he breathed with a small sigh, feeling uninvited tears slide down his cheeks.

“Ha ha ha. You idiot,” he murmured to himself breathily.

---

His phone rang at 10 A.M.

“Mikasa, I don’t feel well,” he said, not even bothering to wish her a merry Christmas.

“Eren, don’t do this. This is important to me,” she responded with a sigh, causing the crackle of phone static on the other end.

“It’s not just because of Jean!” Eren insisted. He could almost hear her frown.

“What is it really, then?” she asked evenly.

“I...” Eren cleared his throat.

“Last night…at Hanji’s. I think…I really fucked things up. With Levi,” he bit out finally.

“What did that asshole do now,” she hissed. This certainly wasn’t going to help improve Levi’s image in Mikasa’s eyes, Eren thought as he bit his lip and formulated a coherent answer to her question.

“It’s not…not his fault. I mean, he didn’t know about my feelings for him, so…”

“But he does now?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Eren admitted. “I left before…yeah.”

“Eren…” she began, and he could hear the sadness in her voice. She had always tried to shoulder half of his pain. When their parents had died, she had held his hand, telling him she would always be by his side, and that she’d make sure they’d be happy for the rest of their lives. This was breaking her just as much as it was breaking him, and it made Eren feel unbearably guilty.

“He’s not obligated to feel the same way as me. This was always an outcome. I even expected it,” Eren said with a broken laugh. “It just…”

Eren felt new tears slide down his cheeks.

“I didn’t expect it to hurt this much, is all,” he whispered.

“I’ll tell Jean we’ll just come for dinner. I’m going to come over so we can watch movies,” she said firmly.

“Don’t do that,” he said, finding it hard to keep from sobbing at her kindness. “This is important to you.”

“You’re important to me. Jean knows that, and he knows that your happiness will always be a priority for me. I’m your sister. It’s my job to take care of you.”

“Thank you, Mikasa,” he said, and he thought of the way he had bawled at the funeral when they were both ten. Mikasa had sat there perfectly still, grasping his hand tightly through it all. When Hannes had explained that he was going to be taking care of them because he was Eren’s godfather, she had just nodded while Eren had adamantly refused to leave their childhood home.

“It’ll be okay,” she had told him, looking him straight in the eye. “I’ll be there, too.”

“I’ll make pancakes,” the present Mikasa added, and Eren had realized that he had stopped sobbing and silence had descended in his room.

He felt his lips curl into a small smile.

---

Stuffed with pancakes, eyes still red from crying, and mind full of an excess of explosions courtesy of the four action movies they watched in succession, Eren pulled himself out of Mikasa’s car. The two of them walked side by side up to the bright red door of the two-story grey house.

Mikasa stole a glance at Eren. Please don’t piss him off for no good reason, her eyes said; he scowled in response. His sister sighed, shaking her head a bit before knocking a few times.

In seconds, the door opened to reveal Jean in a crisp button down and khaki slacks. Again, Eren resisted the urge to feel disgusted by how fake and annoying and Jean this whole thing felt.

“Milady,” Jean said with an overdone British accent as he removed Mikasa’s winter coat from her shoulders. She rolled her eyes and Eren huffed, but Jean just chuckled.

“Jeanbo, are they here?” An aged female voice called from another room inside. “Tell them dinner will be ready in ten minutes! Ask what they want to drink. Eggnog? Soda? I have to put the sweet potatoes back in the oven, and—”

“It’s fine, Ma, calm down.” Jean said, wincing.

He turned back to Mikasa and Eren with a goofy grin. Eren resisted the urge to gag once more.

“Sorry about earlier,” Mikasa murmured, but Jean just shrugged with an easygoing grin that Eren couldn’t help but feel was wildly uncharacteristic.

“It’s fine, I get it. Bros before hos.”

“As much as I enjoy the fact that you just called yourself a ho, that is the completely wrong use of that phrase.” Eren replied, eyebrows furrowed.

Jean just shrugged, “Thought it’d be worth a shot to try and make you laugh instead of look all sad and weepy.”

“Jean!” Mikasa hissed, elbowing him.

“Ow—geez, it’s true, though! He looks like someone just kicked his puppy.”

Eren was a little surprised Mikasa hadn’t told Jean why he was upset, but he was thankful. It was pretty obvious Jean wasn’t being tactless on purpose.

“I’m going to go help your mother,” Mikasa said, brushing past Jean, but not before whispering something in his ear before leaving. Jean just blinked, then turned to Eren.

“Hey, let’s go to the living room. We can watch TV or something,” Jean said, scratching his cheek.

Eren followed Jean silently into the living room.

They sat down, but Jean made no move to turn on the TV. Eventually, he cleared his throat.

“You know, I was just jealous of you in high school. You were always so damn sure of yourself, and you always stood up for what you believed in, even if it got you into trouble. I really admired that about you.” Jean said steadily, looking at Eren with honest eyes.

Eren didn’t know what to say; he wasn’t sure whether to be irritated or embarrassed by this sudden confession. Jean being earnest and kind and mature was a new experience, one obviously preempted by his relationship with Eren’s sister.

He almost wanted Jean to punch him and declare the whole thing a joke, it was making him so uncomfortable.

“Erm. Uh,” Eren said, face twisting up like he’d really rather not, but Jean shook his head and held up a hand to stop him.

“I really love Mikasa, and she really loves you, so I want to be there for you, too. What I’m trying to say is…sorry. I’m sorry for the stuff back then. You went through a lot of tough shit for a teenager, and I was kind of a dick about it.”

Eren just blinked as Jean shifted uncomfortably.

“Damn it, Yeager, just—”

“Me too, then. Sorry.” Eren interrupted him, frowning a bit. “I, uh, didn’t really give you a chance or anything, so. Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Silence descended over the room—which looked to Eren like one of those staged house pictures you see in a furniture magazine, it was so coordinated and clean and lovely—until Mikasa walked in with a cheese plate.

“I don’t think I want to know,” she said with a sigh, since the two men were avoiding each other’s gaze rather pointedly.

“We’re cool, right, Eren?” Jean said with a weird chuckle.

“Yeah,” Eren agreed slowly.

“In fact, Eren and I are gonna hang with the guys tomorrow. Boy’s Night.” Jean said, that recognizable bravado seeping back into his voice.

“Wait, what?”

“Good.”

Eren and his sister spoke in unison, so Mikasa didn’t seem to notice his shocked response. She just nodded her head with a small smile and headed back into the kitchen.

Jean leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands behind his head.

“Nailed it,” he said to no one in particular, a smug smile on his face.

Eren threw his head down into his hands.

---

The dinner went surprisingly well, and Eren woke up still full from the previous day on the 26th. Jean’s parents had been nothing but sweet and seemingly interested in his research, and had made a lot of “you were never as dedicated as this young man, Jean!” and “why can’t you have such work ethic, working two jobs like Eren, Jean?” comments that had simultaneously made Eren uncomfortable and smug. There was something about watching Jean have mini-tantrums that breathed life into Eren’s system, even when he was not in the best of mindsets.

Which brought him back to the Party Fuck-up, which brought him back to Levi, which brought him back to why he was currently on his sixth beer in a crowded sports bar with Jean and five other guys he had hung out with a few times before, but wasn’t really all that close to.

He hadn’t bothered starting a fight with Mikasa over the fact that she had clearly told Jean he had to hang out with Eren in an effort to get his mind off of Levi and his spoon out of the Ben and Jerry’s, because he knew she would have just talked to him like she was his mother and Eren hated that more than he hated hanging out with Jean, which was saying something.

“—and then Sasha ate a whole pie by herself, just to prove that it hadn’t been a waste to order three instead of two, and you should have seen my mom’s face!” Connie was saying. Eren had hung out with him a few times, mostly to help him study for German tests when they were in the same class a couple of years ago. All Eren knew about him after those few meetings was that he was really fucking bad at German, he was obsessed with Game of Thrones, and his girlfriend was banned from several restaurant challenges to win free meals because she had conquered them so many times already.

“She’s a keeper,” Jean replied with a bark of laughter as the rest of the group descended into equal parts awe and hysterics.

“Speaking of keepers, Jean, someone finally put a ring on it—”

The whole group hooted and hollered and Jean just turned a little red, shushing them.

“Took him long enough! He’d call me, like, every other day, ‘Marco, what if I got her size wrong?’ ‘Marco, what if she says no?’ ‘Marco, I can’t do it, I’m too nervous, I’m gonna be sick!’—the last one was literally right before he asked, too.” Jean’s best friend, Marco, imitated Jean’s voice in a high-pitched twitter that sent the whole group into a fit of laughter once more.

“Hey, save it for the bachelor party!” Jean said, punching his best friend in the shoulder with a grin.

Eren just watched all the exchanges feeling oddly out of the loop. This whole thing really wasn’t making him feel much better. He lifted his cup and took a sip of what he thought was his third beer—

“Speaking of bachelors, got anyone special in your life, Eren?”

—only to spit it out in a fit of coughing and sputtering.

“I, uh—”

“’Ey, Connie, don’t scare him off. He’ll never want to come out with us again,” Jean said, sending a look of apology Eren’s way.

“But he’s the only one left who’s a mystery! He’s totally hiding something juicy, I can tell,” a guy Eren thinks was named Thomas said, narrowing his eyes in phony suspicion.

The group snickered, and Eren shifted uncomfortably.

“Nothing to tell,” he mumbled, taking another sip of his beer and wishing he could disappear.

“Bullllllllllllshit,” Reiner, a guy Eren knew was at Trost thanks to a hefty football scholarship, said with a smirk.

Something in Eren snapped.

What was Mikasa thinking? What part of this had been a good idea? He barely knew half these people, and it’s not like his history with Jean promised that this would be a good experience. He didn’t owe them anything.

But he was also really damn tired of keeping his mouth shut.

And thus, Adolescent Eren was awakened.

“I said, there’s nothing to fucking tell.” Eren said coolly, narrowing his eyes at the hulking figure in front of him.

“Ohohoho, this is interesting. You wouldn’t get mad if you weren’t lying,” Reiner continued, egging him on.

The rest of what happened was a wondrous blur of spilled drinks, fists thrown, and the whole group sitting on the sidewalk at 1:07 A.M. waiting for the bus that came every forty minutes after being thrown out of the bar for unruly behavior.

“You throw a nasty punch, Yeager.” Reiner said, breaking the silence. He was currently nursing a black eye and had several bruises elsewhere, a product of Eren having thrown him to the ground quite easily despite his size.

“So I’ve been told,” he bit out, raising an eyebrow in Jean’s direction. Jean just shook his head, looking like he was about to laugh.

“I took the joke too far, sorry about that,” Reiner said, smiling a little lopsidedly due to his split lip and swollen jaw.

Eren winced. “No, it’s my fault. I haven’t done that sort of shit since high school. I’m kind of ashamed of myself.”

“We cool?”

“Yeah,” Eren said, surprised that it was over, just like that.

The rest of the group cheered a bit, despite the fact that they were all still sort of tipsy, kind of beat up, and freezing on the sidewalk.

“Friendship!” Connie hooted, hopping to his feet and pumping his arms up and down. He was definitely the drunkest of them all.

Eren just laughed a bit.

“You know, whenever you do want to talk about it, we’re pretty good listeners when we’re sober.” Marco said, patting Eren on the shoulder, and the rest of the group murmured their agreement.

Eren blinked.

He’d spent the whole semester wishing he could bother Armin with all this relationship junk, but keeping it to himself because he thought it was selfish to detract from Armin’s experience abroad by pouring all his issues onto him. He’d Skype him from time to time, lie about his social life, and listen to Armin excitedly talk about all the robots he was building or whatever he was doing in Germany.

He hadn’t want to talk to Mikasa about it, really, because she was his sister and he never felt the inclination to talk about crushes with her or anything. She’d gotten most of it out of him on Christmas morning, but he still didn’t really go into detail about the important bits.

But now, he had a whole group of people telling him they were ready and willing to listen.

It was a bit overwhelming.

“I—only when you’re sober?” Eren asked.

Chapter Text

When Eren had confessed that he was willing to talk about what had been bothering him after at least two more drinks, the pack of college boys had picked him up and nearly carried him on their shoulders as they shuffled along.

The group of roughed up “warriors” (as Reiner had proclaimed them to be) indeed ended up in another bar by 1:34 A.M., which was the time Eren’s phone flashed right before he noticed The Text.

We need to talk.

Eren’s eyes grew to the size of saucers, and he swiped right on his phone, madly trying to figure out when that particular text had been sent.

8:49 P.M.

He scrunched up his face in concentration. He’d been out with the group already by eight, which meant he had clearly just missed it in the chaos of the evening. He bit his lip, wondering what he should do.

“Oh shit,” he heard over his shoulder, and only then did he realize Connie was on his tip-toes peering down at the screen of Eren’s phone.

“Oh shit, no way, nooo way. That is some bad voodoo right there, the ‘we need to talk’ text, oh shit.”

“Hey!” Eren yelped, quickly trying to cover up his screen, but the damage was done.

Connie was still giggling but the rest of the group had stilled.

Eren sighed, took a deep breath, and—seeing that the curious eyes of the entire ragtag group had fallen upon him—began.

It spilled out, beginning with the party three years ago—

“—he was just fucking sitting on the ground, like, this grown ass man—”

—continuing through the weeks thereafter—

“—and then he came to the coffee shop, and he kept coming and we talked about stupid shit, like really bad action films and stuff, like, so many explosions, and no one ever looks dirty even though they're basically rolling around on streets and shit, like damn, who wears lipstick to fight zombies anyway—”

—up until the present.

“—and Smith—that's his ex, you know, did I say that?—fucking asks if I’m in love with him, and I’m like, well, duh, asshat—I mean, I didn’t say that, I mean I totally should’ve, but I was freaked out so I, like, just, uh—I left.”

The whole group stood there stock still. Jean’s mouth was hanging open, which would have usually made Eren happy, because he looked absolutely ridiculous, but under the circumstances...

Fortunately, Precariously Drunk Eren was smart enough to leave out the dancing lessons and the whole almost-kissing-in-a-nightclub thing. In fact, he left out as many details as possible. They didn’t need to know about all the hours he’d spent fantasizing about their first date, or that Eren kept a count of all the times that Levi patted him on the head or punched him in the shoulder in his weekly planner.

He might have mentioned the desire for a wedding by the sea somewhere in there, but hopefully they would overlook that fact.

“Duuuuuuuuude. Professor Ackerman? You got game,” Reiner finally said, letting out a low whistle in apparent admiration. The rest of the guys just nodded a little hesitantly, a tad bewildered by everything they had just heard.

“I thought you dated Annie in high school,” Jean said lamely, cheeks flushed either from the new, intimate details he had learned about Eren’s love life or the amount of alcohol in his system.

“Didn’t really work out,” Eren mumbled drily, reaching for his beer glass (or one of them, at least) and finding it (them) empty.

“You just left?” Marco asked, eyes wide.

“I sorta…ran out.”

And, of course, since the universe was clearly out to punish Eren, his phone buzzed. He lifted it up and the whole group held their breath in anticipation.

You do realize you have “seen” tags on, right? I know you just read my text.

“I have ‘seen’ tags on?!” Eren cried in frustration.

“Noooooooooooooooooo,” wailed the whole group, some of them grasping their heads in frustration.

“Why is he even awake?! He’s old,” Connie complained.

“Dude,” said Jean, smacking him upside the head.

“Hey!”

“What do I do?!” Eren moaned, pressing his cheek to the probably very unsanitary bar table.

Armin would know what to do, Eren realized with despair. Armin would have a whole plan ready for how to deal with this whole situation within seconds—

“Don’t answer him,” Jean said slowly, pointing at the phone as if it were a bomb that may go off at any second. “He’s trying to psyche you out, you know? So, like, just don’t give in to it.”

“Yeah, Professor Ackerman is an asshole. Like, he gave us a test on 4/20. Who does that?!” Reiner groused, then shook his head. “But he went out of his way to be nice to you! And now he’s whining because you’re not texting him back!”

“Eren, you’re The Chosen One,” Connie whispered, eyes wide. Eren tried not to be weirded out as Connie put his hands around his neck and started petting his head.

“Uh,” he said, but Connie just kept going.

“As wasted as they are,” Marco began (he hadn’t had nearly as much to drink as the rest of the group), “they actually might be onto something. Maybe he likes you back. I mean, you did leave before he could explain his reaction…”

“Play hard to get!” Connie cheered, releasing Eren from his grip.

“Yeah!” The rest of the guys responded, pumping their fists.

Reiner hollered for another round of shots, and the rest of the night went a little blurry.

---

Eren woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing. Groaning, he made to turn over, and realized that he was still wearing his clothing from the previous day.

The second thing he noticed was the raging headache that was pounding away at his skull.

The pain came hand in hand with the memory of how much he drank out with the guys, and he groaned; staggering out of bed, he launched himself toward the bathroom.

This definitely put the mini hangover he had after going to the club with Levi to shame.

Levi.

He moaned from his place on the floor of his bathroom, head in between his knees.

What the hell had he been thinking? First, he fucked things up with the only person he’d ever felt actual chemistry with, then he’d gone and told all of his drunken friends about the non-existent romantic relationship between them (were they friends now?).

This was not boding well.

Eren found himself unable to vomit, and instead filled a (hopefully clean) mug with water from the tap to try and rid himself of the nausea.

He crawled back into bed, his head still pounding, still feeling disgusting and sweaty in his clothes from the day before. Suddenly, he felt his pillow vibrate. Furrowing his brows, he reached underneath said pillow and pulled out his phone. He frowned, remembering that it had been the sound of the phone that had woken him up in the first place; he hadn’t even bothered to look at it before he was halfway to the bathroom.

Blinking, he saw that he had almost twenty unread text messages.

duuuuuuuude, you must be FEELIN’ all those shots today hahaha but srsly bro if you need something let me know.

Mikasa’s pissed at me, says that wasn’t what she had in mind when she told me to try and cheer you up…

Eren typed out a quick response to Jean.

I’m fine, thanks, tell her I just need to sleep it off.

The response came instantaneously: a single thumbs-up emoji. Eren sent back a horse emoji, cracking a grin despite the pain shooting through his head.

The next message was, of course, from Mikasa herself.

I’m sorry, I asked Jean to take you out because I thought you might need some guys to talk to. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’m going to cut that damn midget.

He sighed.

It’s fine, I appreciate it. I know this would have been an Armin job, so you had the right idea…and Jean DID try, so cut him some slack.

He paused before he sent the next text.

And it’s not Levi’s fault, you know that.

Her reply, like Jean’s, came within seconds.

Are you feeling okay?

I’ll be fine, just need some more time to myself, he replied, knowing she wasn’t just referring to the effects of the alcohol from the previous night.

dude dude DUDE DUDE DUDE so about professor ackerman i have this friend who needs a 75 on his final to keep playing football

Eren rolled his eyes and decided not to answer Reiner.

oooooommmmmmmmggggg was last night real life you drank sooooo much and you started dancing to “come and get your love” hahaha i videotaped it i’m dyyyyyyyyying

Connie very kindly attached a video of Eren on top of a table, leaning on Jean and singing in an entirely different key than the original song.

Eren sighed. He still had a huge number of texts left to read, according to the little number above the green Messages button on his home screen. He cringed to think of the other things his new “friends” had sent.

How had they even gotten his number, anyway?

Eren began scrolling through the ridiculous messages until he hit one that made his blood run cold.

Come on, Eren.

Immediately, Eren felt himself throw his phone across the room. It landed on the carpet with a muted bang.

Groaning, he pushed the palms of his hands into his eye sockets.

He heard his phone vibrate again, seconds later. He cursed himself for still not having turned off “seen” tags, but clearly he hadn’t been sober enough to find his way around the Settings tab of his phone last night.

I was fucking worried about you.

You can’t just run off in below freezing weather, what if you’d slipped on black ice and hit your damn head?!

I called your sister yesterday and she bitched me out.

She wouldn’t even tell me if you were okay.

Eren frowned at Levi’s texts. That was all he wanted to know—if Eren was “okay”? Maybe all hope was not lost. Maybe Levi was just so oblivious that they could go on being friends, Eren could act like he didn’t want to hug Levi more than life itself, Levi could go on turning a blind eye to it all…

But did he want that, really?

So, are you?

Eren frowned as he read the texts. Though Levi was only referring to when he ran away from the situation, there was some sort of desperation there that had warranted that follow-up. Eren imagined he didn’t want to broach the subject outright, at least not over text message.

Eren knew that Levi hated texting anyway, but he must have known that Eren wouldn’t have answered the phone if he called.

His phone alerted him with a buzz that another new text message had just come through.

He hesitated before opening it, but figured Levi already knew he was seeing them all right now, since he hadn’t read the first text (which was from the early hours of the morning) until just now.

You can’t run away from this.

“Watch me,” Eren chuckled lowly, and turned off his phone.

He crawled back into bed and went to sleep once more.

---

The next day, Eren realized that he was supposed to work at the café.

Immediately, he called his boss, Hannes. He explained that he was going to graduate soon, and that job applications were his first priority at the moment. Then, he asked to quit.

Hannes had been a bit angry at the short notice (and the fact that Eren was quitting over the phone—“You know, this isn’t very professional,” Hannes had scolded him), but Eren figured that he sounded so despondent that Hannes didn’t have the heart to really bitch him out. He was reluctant to let him go, and told Eren he was his best worker (and much better with the customers than Annie, for sure), but he understood that Eren’s future came first.

A few hours later, he received a new message from Levi.

Seriously? You quit your fucking job just to avoid me? Real mature.

Eren rolled his eyes. “Yes, Levi, everything revolves around you. Bastard,” he grumbled as he stuffed more popcorn into his mouth and continued to watch Friends on Netflix.

I’m outside your dorm room.

Eren’s eyes widened. No fucking way.

I’m not going to abuse my friendship with Nile this time, but please.

Just come talk to me.

I’ll buy you a fucking hot chocolate or something.

We can go to that stupid bakery you like with those disgusting croissant donuts, I don’t care.

Eren pushed his laptop aside and peered through his blinds. Sure enough, there was Levi standing out in the cold, mittens in his mouth as he furiously typed on his phone.

Please, Eren.

Eren stared at him, looking back and forth between his own phone and the figure outside his dorm.

After sending that text, Levi put his phone back in his pocket and pulled his scarf up over his nose.

With a start, Eren realized that it was the scarf he had gotten him for his birthday.

The scarf that had been in the box that he had thrown at him as he ran out the door.

His chest ached with something that was painful and joyful all at once. Levi never really deviated beyond black, white, and grey, but the red suited him just as Eren had thought it would. It made his other, pale features stand out; even from the window, Eren could spot him easily, could appreciate his silky black hair and angled nose.

“It can be a tradition,” Mikasa had joked as he picked up the cherry red cashmere scarf in Maria’s, “Just give all your favorite people red scarves.”

It had been a reference to the first Christmas Mikasa had spent in the Yeager home, when Eren had used his own money earned delivering newspapers to buy his new sister a scarf.

He had liked the sentiment, and realized that he had told Levi the story of how Mikasa had become a part of their family before, so he might even catch the reference. The thought had made him equal parts nervous and excited, and he hadn’t been able to resist the purchase.

Suddenly, he saw Levi turn to look up at Eren’s window. For a split second, Eren thought he saw him, thought he could be seen.

Then, he came to the conclusion that it would be impossible for Levi to know exactly where his room was—let alone see him through his half-open blinds.

Eren narrowed his eyes and shut his blinds all the way. He curled into himself, knocking his bowl of popcorn off his bed in the process and not really caring.

Chapter Text

On December 29th, no new text messages came until the afternoon. Eren had spent the day actually looking up Biology-related jobs, though he honestly hadn’t been motivated to do so until he’d lied to Hannes about his reason for wanting to quit.

7pm by the ugly, dickless statue near the south entrance of the park.

Anxiety had coursed through his veins at the sight of the new message, and he’d stopped his search abruptly to stare at his phone.

Seconds later, another text came through.

I’ll wait for you all fucking night if I have to.

Eren frowned. This text was unlike the others. It seemed like an ultimatum.

Something told Eren that these were the last texts he would receive—and, if he chose to ignore them entirely, perhaps the last contact he would have with Levi altogether.

Instead of the feeling of relief pouring into his chest, however, he felt a dull ache settle there instead.

He tried to imagine his days unpunctuated by the presence of the other man.

There’d be no one to walk home with, no one to sit with at the café in perfect, comfortable silence. No one to make stupid shit jokes that made him feel like a middle schooler in the best of ways. There was surely no one as strangely charming in Eren’s life, no one that was as much of a mystery as Levi. Something told Eren that there was no one he’d find as appealing in a myriad of ways even if he went searching, either.

He glanced at the clock; it was 3 o’clock.

He chewed on the edge of a pen and continued to scroll through job postings, trying not to look at his phone accusingly, but his heart wasn’t really in it.

---

At 6:30 P.M., Eren finally decided that he absolutely wouldn’t go.

He didn’t owe Levi anything! After all, Levi had been the one to preemptively reject him; hell, the other man couldn’t even accept the idea that Eren had feelings for him.

Eren snorted, full of bitterness. He was basically as red as a fire truck every time he saw Levi. How could anyone be that oblivious, anyway?

He got up from his desk (he had indeed spent most of the day there) and cracked his back, wincing.

He made his way to his fridge, realizing he hadn’t eaten all day and was starving.

Upon opening it, however, he realized that he hadn’t gone grocery shopping in days; the first shelf held two apples (probably old and mealy by now) and a yogurt, and the second shelf held two lone beers. He groaned.

Grabbing his coat and his wallet, he shuffled out the door and made his way downstairs to leave the dorm building. He gave Nile a short wave and received a grunt in return.

It was freezing when he made it outside—probably the coldest it’d been in days, though he had been holed up in his room for a few. He decided to head to the small minimart a few blocks away to pick up some pasta or something else cheap and easy (especially considering that he no longer had an income because he had quit his job—he hadn’t really thought that one through at all).

He made his way through the door, and an obnoxious bell tone sounded, alerting the bored-looking middle-aged shopkeeper of his presence. The store only had a few aisles, and Eren knew it like the back of his hand because he rarely shopped anywhere else; it was the most convenient place to pick up pantry basics, and it was much cheaper than the larger chain grocery stores that required a bus ride into downtown Trost.

He grabbed a few boxes of pasta and dropped them into his basket, then turned around.

Suddenly, he stopped and stared at the shelves behind him.

A million different cans of soup stared at him accusingly.

He stared back.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and shoved the pasta he had put into his basket back into its place on the shelf.

“Fuck.”

He walked as fast as he could out of the convenience store before breaking into a run. He nearly fell over but was able to catch himself despite having slid a few inches on a patch of black ice.

He glanced at his phone as he ran.

7:12, it flashed at him.

Within moments, an ugly statue of a giant was within his field of vision. He slowed to a walk.

Sure enough, leaning against it was a familiar figure in a black coat.

Replacing his usual grey scarf, yet again, was a red one.

The steps toward him were excruciating, but Eren knew he would regret it if he let Levi go like this. No matter what happened, he felt like he deserved an explanation, as well as a chance to convey his feelings properly.

I’ll be okay, he told himself like a mantra.

When he was within twenty feet, the figure glanced up.

Eren felt a pang in his chest as he registered the fact that it was not surprise flashing in Levi’s eyes, but relief.

No words were spoken as Eren slowed to a stop a few feet in front of him. The crunch of slush under his feet was the only sound that permeated the air between them.

Levi stared at him; Eren shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away, uncomfortable with the other man’s intense gaze.

“Aren’t you even a little surprised I showed?” Eren muttered.

“No,” Levi said, without inflection.

“Liar.”

“I know you, Eren.”

“Oh?” Eren asked, challengingly. He felt his face slip into a scowl, though he still refused to look at Levi, instead focusing on a few icicles hanging off branches of the tall fir trees. For some reason, that statement brought back the bitter memory of Levi laughing off Erwin’s claim that Eren had feelings for him.

How much do we actually know about each other, at the end of the day?

“You may have quit your job to avoid me, but Hannes will have you back in there by Monday. He knows you just need to cool off.”

Levi’s neutral tone was starting to piss Eren off, so he elected to say nothing in response. He continued to glower, wondering if coming had been a stupid idea after all.

Levi cleared his throat and continued, still gazing at him with a disquieting steadiness.

“You never back down from anything. You may get derailed and screw up, but you’re the most determined person I know. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

Eren felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, whether out of frustration or heartache, it was unclear; either way, he remained adamant in his refusal to look at the older man.

“Stop…being so nice to me before—just get it over with,” Eren said lowly, his voice gravelly. “It’s cold, and I want to go home.”

A pause.

“Eren, was what Erwin said correct?” Levi’s voice was softer this time, and Eren noticed.

“What the fuck do you think?” He asked thickly.

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Levi admitted with a shaky sigh.

Mildly surprised, Eren finally turned his head to look at Levi. This time, it was his turn to look away. Even by looking at his profile, however, Eren could read his pained expression.

Eren suddenly felt a weight lifted from his shoulders. This was probably going to end badly, he figured. He had enough evidence pointing to the fact that his feelings made Levi uncomfortable, and they’d probably never go back to the way they were after all this.

There was only one thing left to do—the one thing that may provide enough closure to make this okay, to ensure that Eren could still function as a normal human being in the aftermath of this train wreck.

Eren cleared his throat.

“The holiday party, three years ago. Do you remember?”

“What, when we met?” Levi turned back to him, eyebrows furrowed. “I was sitting on the floor cleaning and I told you to quit your job.”

“Yeah.”

Levi looked a little confused at where Eren was going with this, but he kept his gaze steady and waited for him to continue.

Eren ignored the nervous bubbling of his stomach and his persistent heartbeat, determined to soldiered on.

“That’s…I guess I just knew it was you. Even back then.”

Levi’s eyes widened so slightly that Eren wasn’t sure if someone who hadn’t spent a large amount of time around him would have caught it.

It was enough to coax him forward.

“That it’d just…always be you.”

Levi’s expression didn’t waver, and Eren looked away with a grimace.

“So just do it. I’m ready, probably been ready for a long time,” Eren said, running a hand through his hair before straightening up.

He looked Levi straight in the eye and spoke again when he realized Levi didn’t seem like he was going to start talking anytime soon.

“I’ll start: Levi Ackerman, I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you sitting on Hanji’s kitchen floor wearing ridiculous neon yellow gloves. I love your shit jokes, and your weird cleaning quirk. I love your constant bitchface, I love your dancing—seriously, no one should be that graceful while simultaneously looking like they could beat you to a pulp if you look at them funny, what the hell is wrong with you—and I love that I don’t know everything about you because it means that I’m always learning something new.”

Eren’s surged throughout his confession. Then, he felt his eyes narrow, and his voice took on a biting edge as he continued.

“And I’m absolutely not fucking sorry I blew up at the party because Erwin doesn’t deserve to hold your hand when I’ve been waiting three fucking years to do it.”

There was a moment of silence (or, as silent as was possible with the sound of the wind whipping through the snow-covered trees) as Eren watched Levi for any change of expression.

The older man still looked a little shell-shocked.

“Okay, done. Ready. Fire away,” Eren prompted, opening his arms wide as if he were literally asking Levi to shoot him (which, in his mind, didn’t seem like a terrible idea at this point).

“Eren,” Levi began slowly after several minutes of Eren wondering how childish it would be to bolt away a second time.

Eren made a noise of acknowledgment, but cowered a way a bit at the sound of Levi’s voice. His tone was familiar—it was Levi’s “I’m scolding you for something stupid you just did/described/are thinking about, brat” tone. (It was one of Eren’s favorites, if he was being honest with himself—partly because he was a masochist, and because it was equal parts disbelieving frustration, sarcasm, secondhand embarrassment, and reserved affection.)

“Riddle me this,” Levi began, that tone carrying through his words. “Why the fuck do you think I’ve been going to Hanji’s stupid book club for two and a half years? I hate SciFi.”

Eren blinked.

“Uh, can we stay on topic please?”

“Just take a guess. Go on,” Levi said, effectively cutting him off, and Eren wondered if this was the same tone he used in his classroom.

Eren decided now was not the time to be jealous of Levi’s students.

“You’re her friend and all of us go to give her an outlet for her crazy, I don’t know. If you’re going to give me the ‘we can still be friends despite the fact that you have a big, fat, unrequited crush on me’ speech, I’m out,” Eren said with a scowl, crossing his arms.

“God, have you always been such a little asshole?” Levi sighed as he moved to sit down on the bench a few feet from the statue.

“Takes one to know one,” Eren quipped, almost embarrassed by how childish he was being. He was letting out all the sides of himself he’d never wanted Levi to see, but he figured it didn’t really matter anymore.

“When Hanji brought up the fact that you were in the book club that spring, I told her I’d been looking for a new hobby. I wasn’t even fucking subtle.”

Eren just stared as Levi’s brows became even more furrowed than before.

“Also, your coffee drinks are shit. Caramel matcha lattes? Were you raised by wolves?” Levi’s voice took on a disgruntled lilt. His speech became quicker, his voice louder.

“Hey, that one was popular. I still get special requests for it. Wait, you ordered that three times the week I came up with it.”

“Haven’t you ever found it odd that I walk to your damn student-infested coffee shop on the other side of campus instead of going to the faculty lounge and getting free coffee nearly every day?”

“I figured you were just picky.”

“And then you, ha, you had to go and ask me to fucking teach you how to dance. You little shit, you dug my grave.”

“You could have just said no.” Eren began raising his voice in response to Levi’s, feeling weirdly attacked and wait, what the hell was he getting at—

“I did, you moron! Several times. Because I knew this would happen. I knew everything would fall apart. I knew the closer I got to you, the more I would get my hopes up, and that’s damn near lethal at my age.”

“Wait, I’m confused.”

“Eren,” Levi began, softly this time, “you have your whole life ahead of you. You have years and years to meet someone and have a whirlwind romance, and a family, and I…I’m not the person you can do that with. I can’t…I won’t take all of that away from you. I won’t be that selfish.”

“What.”

“If you’d paid attention before chewing Erwin out, you’d have heard him telling me about his new boyfriend, and making fun of me for being a cradle robber because everyone knows I’m in love with you except you.”

Levi stared straight at Eren, still scowling.

“Literally everyone. Hell, I’m pretty sure even my fucking students know. My desktop background is that painting of the beach you gave me for my birthday two years ago. Whenever Hanji stops by, she makes a big deal out of it, but I still won’t fucking change it because I like you, you shithead.”

Levi paused, frowning.

“Erwin was probably trying to provoke you, not that I think of it. He’s a clever bastard.”

Eren was struck dumb. His mouth was hanging open as Levi ranted.

“At the club…I knew you were going to kiss me. And for a minute, I didn’t care if you were drunk, if it was just in the heat of the moment, or that you’d probably regret it in the morning. I was going to let you do it. I really wanted to let you do it.” Levi declared, frustrated. He went back to resting his chin in his hands, hunched over on that frozen bench.

“But I’m broken, and I’m scared, and you’re too damn bright sometimes, it’s like you fucking ooze youth and promise, and I don’t want to dampen that with my bitterness. I couldn’t let you do it, because I knew it’d make me want you way more. If that’s even fucking possible. Goddamnit.”

Levi threw his head into his hands, out of embarrassment or something else, Eren wasn’t entirely sure.

Numbly, Eren found himself taking a seat beside him. Even though he had been close to Levi on several occasions before, it felt strangely intimate, having their shoulders touch like this, even through the thickness of their winter coats.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Eren whispered, staring straight ahead, still a little wide-eyed.

“The same reason you didn’t, moron,” Levi mumbled through his gloved hands, still hiding his face.

“I thought you’d never want to see me again.”

“I thought you were straight. But yeah, that too.”

Eren laughed a little at that, despite it all.

He felt rather than saw Levi lean back and turn to him, slowly, and suddenly he could feel the other man’s hot breath on his cheeks.

“I’ve only ever been in one relationship, and it was a fucking mess. I’m certifiably awful at this shit.” Levi said, seriously, though Eren could read some humor in his eyes thanks to their proximity.

“I won’t give up. Ever. I’ve been told I’m an obstinate brat.”

“I’m terrible at cooking, and if my apartment isn’t clean at all times, I’ll freak out and clean it even if I have more pressing things to do. I will never stop making shit jokes, even in front of important people, and I’m generally an asshole, so your friends will probably all hate me if they don’t already—I’ve failed a lot of shitty brats your age out of my classes, so that’s already a possibility. I will get upset from time to time and not want to talk about it, and you won’t be able to make it better. You’ll just have to accept it and give me time and space to get over it.”

“I’m always going to try and make it better, you idiot, you can’t push me away without letting me try. I fell in love with the fucked up part of you too, it’s human, and—”

—And suddenly Levi’s lips were on his own, his hands clutching both sides of Eren’s face as if in desperation.

Eren had kissed people before, sure, but it hadn’t felt quite like this. This shouldn’t even have the same name, he decided. It was on a whole different level. He had never been great at English, so the words that came to mind to describe the experience were no more complex than oh, awesome, wow, and yes.

Eren shifted so that he was turned more comfortably toward Levi, and his own hands found the other man’s waist even through the thickness of his winter coat. He tilted his head slightly to the left, careful not to break the kiss.

His lips burned, and he knew it wasn’t only due to the terrible cold. He opened his mouth unthinkingly, moaning softly in pleasure, and the kiss deepened.

There was nothing incredibly sexy about it, Eren realized with a bit of humor. There was no biting of lips, no tongues fighting for dominance. It was decidedly PG. Levi wasn’t the experienced, sultry pro Eren may have imagined him to be on his particularly—ahem—creative days, but it did nothing but make his fondness for the older man grow.

After a few moments (or several—it could have been hours and Eren still would have despaired that it was far too short despite how relatively tame it was overall), Levi’s hands made their way down to his neck, and the kiss lost some of its intensity as he absentmindedly began to play with the strands of hair sticking out from beneath Eren’s winter hat on the back of his neck.

Soon, they were both just holding each other, forehead to forehead, too hot despite the snow falling around them in a dainty shower of white.

No, it hadn’t been all that sexy, he thought, but it had been rather intimate.

Eren decided that words were rather useless in situations like these.

“Definitely should have done that sooner,” Eren whispered, still catching his breath, eyes only half open.

Suddenly, Levi pulled him close in a tight embrace.

He felt Levi (who was still idly playing with his hair) chuckle into his shoulder before he heard it.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Eren really hated his job.

Today, a woman sent back a nonfat latte three times, claiming he had not used skim milk.

“I can taste the 1%,” she had insisted. He had assured her that he had indeed used fat-free milk, and remade the same drink again. The final time she sent it back, he opened a new carton of milk right in front of her eyes and forced her to watch him make it; that had seemed to satisfy her, though she hadn’t been compelled to tip him with anything other than a sneer as she exited.

Luckily, it was January term, and there were far fewer customers than usual, since most students went home to watch Netflix and think about anything other than the fact that a new, stressful semester was just a few weeks away. Eren always stayed in Trost in January to work so that he could scrape together some extra cash for groceries, though everyone else he knew headed home. Even Mikasa had abandoned him to stay with Jean over the break to finish planning the wedding (or “Doom’s Day,” as Eren has so kindly dubbed March 19).

A chime at the door alerted him to the presence of a new customer, and a goofy grin took over his face as he finished wiping down the counter.

He leaned over the now-sparkling wood and waited.

“Hey, you,” Eren breathed, and Levi leaned over the counter to greet his boyfriend with a kiss.

“Gross, stop,” he heard Annie complain in a monotone in the background, but he ignored her.

“Hey,” Levi said against his cheek as he stepped back once more. “What stupid drink are you advertising this morning? Wait—I don’t think I want to know. But I’ll have that.”

“You don’t have to humor me by drinking my concoctions, you know. I can just make you some tea.”

“I like the things you make,” Levi huffed, before his face twisted into a grimace, “just not for the taste.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah.”

“Stop flirting. People are waiting,” Annie said, smacking Eren on the back of his head with a dirtied rag. He turned around to glower at her, but she continued sorting sachets of tea like nothing had happened.

Levi tried (and failed) to contain a quiet chuckle.

“You get off at two, right?” He asked as Eren began preparing his drink.

“Yeah. Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Sure.”

A few moments later, Levi exited the coffee shop with a “Ginger Mocha Cappuccino (hey, don’t look at me like that, you ordered it, buddy)” and a wry smile on his face.

---

They ended up in Levi’s apartment, a space Eren quickly became rather fond of for its tidiness and glorious big-screen television.

Eren’s head was in Levi’s lap, and the older man was idly running his fingers through Eren’s hair as they watched an action flick.

Too distracted to continue pretending to follow the plot, Eren flipped over onto his back and stared up at Levi.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know,” Levi replied, unfazed, eyes still on the television.

“I’ve loved you for three years.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“You love me back.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.”

“Levi,” Eren began, and Levi sighed, resigning himself to the fact that there was no way he’d be able to continue watching the movie, “what do you love about me the most?”

“That’s a dumb question.” Levi responded frankly.

“Rude.”

“It’s dumb because I wouldn’t just want your eyes or your smile or your persistence or your compassion. It’s all or nothing, kid.” Levi said thoughtfully before looking down at his lap.

Eren was covering his face with the cherry red beanie he had been wearing (his belated Christmas gift from Levi, who had long complained that Eren would never be able to bear the winters in Trost so long as he didn’t have a proper cap) and groaning.

“Ugh, you sap, ugh you’re the worst,” Eren whined in embarrassment. Levi reveled in the redness of his boyfriend’s ears—a sure sign that he was, on the contrary, incredibly pleased his the response.

“Ohoho, look at you. You’re all flustered. Not bad.”

Levi leaned back into the couch cushions, a satisfied smile on his face; Eren uncovered his face and shifted to sit up properly.

“So, Mikasa sent out her invites today,” Eren said nonchalantly after a few moments of silence, sneaking a glance in Levi’s direction.

Levi made a noise to indicate he was listening, clearly clued into the fact that Eren had more to say than that.

“Aaaaaaand I’m going to RSVP, but I need to know whether or not I’m bringing a Plus One,” Eren said, yelping when he felt Levi’s foot travel up his leg.

Eren sent him an accusatory glance, only to see Levi resting on one arm and looking the other way, a small grin visible on his face even though he was not facing him.

“Is that so?”

“Are you really going to make me ask?”

“Ask what?”

“Is this Tease Eren Day? I swear to God.”

“Isn’t that every day?”

“You are a child.”

“Of course I’ll go, you idiot.”

Eren blinked, then grinned, feeling his cheeks warm yet again. Maybe he should talk to his doctor about the fact that his temperature raises something like ten degrees every time Levi looked at him. It was becoming a problem.

“If you step on my feet while we dance, I’ll kill you,” Levi said very seriously.

Eren’s face fell.

---

And so the next month passed in a blur of dissertation-writing, dates with Levi (which mostly consisted of Eren writing said dissertation in Levi’s home while Levi graded papers and groused about his “stupid, bratty” students), discussions with Mikasa about the wedding, and nights out with his new, enlarged friend group.

Armin returned from Germany in late January, and the first thing he did was slap Eren across the face (“I can’t believe I had to hear about all your boy drama from Mikasa, why the hell didn’t you tell me, you jerk!”). The second thing he did, of course, was hug Eren so hard he thought his ribs would break.

Armin moved back into the dorm, and they spent many a night up until the early hours of morning talking about their respective semesters apart. It took having Armin back to make Eren realize that he would always be his best friend; even though they hadn’t communicated much while Armin was abroad, they still fell back into their friendship like they had never been separated. Eren was happy to have made new friends at Trost, but it was undeniable that he was incredibly relieved to have his best friend back.

“I can’t believe you finally made a move and you didn’t even tell me! Every week, it was like, Hey, Armin! I’m fine, just busy with school, LOL! when secretly you were getting busy with Professor Ackerman!” Armin exclaimed, clutching his long strands of blond hair in frustration.

Eren smiled nervously. “I just didn’t want to distract you.”

“Ugh, it would have been a welcome one! I was busy getting absolutely slayed by exams. Slayed.”

Armin was introduced to the rest of the guys by Eren and Jean, and they ended up going out to sports bars every other week to catch up. Never again, however, did Eren get drunk enough to sing a duet with Jean, much to Connie’s dismay.

---

Their first Real Fight as a couple happened on Valentine’s Day, of all days.

Eren had been notified that he’d been accepted to graduate school at St. Maria’s University, one of the top universities in the country for research. It had been a last minute decision to even apply, and he had only done it to appease Hanji (who spent most of their time in the lab together either pressuring him for details about his relationship with Levi or badgering him about his potential career paths).

He hadn’t expected to get in, and he absolutely did not expect that Levi would find out.

He and Levi had dinner plans at a restaurant in downtown Trost that night, but he had work in the morning. He hadn’t expected Levi to come by the coffee shop, but he greeted him with a huge grin before he saw how disquieting Levi’s exoression was.

Eren frowned when Levi made it up to the counter. “What’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about St. Maria’s?”

Eren’s heart dropped.

“How—”

“Hanji asked me what you had decided to do. She didn’t know you didn’t think to discuss it with your boyfriend,” Levi said coolly.

“…Annie, can I have a minute?” Eren asked faintly. He heard her acknowledge him from somewhere behind him and promptly took off his apron and followed Levi outside in silence.

“I’m sorry,” Eren said softly, reaching for Levi, but the older man batted his hand away.

“This is exactly why I stayed away from you for so long,” Levi said stiffly.

Taken aback, Eren started. “It’s not that big of a deal! I’m not going to go, I’ve already started looking at jobs in the area—”

“That’s just it, Eren! You’re going to pass up the opportunity of a lifetime because of us, and that’s unacceptable.” Levi said, and now Eren saw the fury in his steely blue-grey eyes.

Eren narrowed his own. “Relationships are about sacrifice—”

“You’d go if we weren’t together,” Levi cut in.

“I—my priorities are different now!” Eren said, running a shaking hand through his hair. He hated this. He’d never fought with Levi before, and he had no idea what to do to keep this from snowballing.

“You can’t do that, Eren!” Levi said heatedly. “You can’t just forsake your own personal self-growth for the sake of a relationship. That’s something middle schoolers do. That’s not love, that’s finding an excuse to be complacent! I thought you were more mature than that.”

Eren felt like he’d been slapped. “That’s what love is! Love is being dependent on someone else to the point that you—”

“No, it’s not! If you don’t love yourself enough to know when to put yourself first, then you’re not ready for a real relationship.”

“So what? You wanna break up with me?” Eren sneered. He felt like he was back in high school, fighting Jean for calling him a name or making fun of him in class.

It felt petty of him to say it, and he regretted it almost immediately.

Levi didn’t respond. He just looked at Eren with what the younger man was able to categorize as a pained expression.

“Hey, why aren’t you saying anything?” Eren said shakily.

“Of course I don’t want that, Eren.” Levi said quietly.

Eren felt the prick of tears in the corners of his eyes, mostly born of guilt.

“Growing up sucks, kid. It means thinking about things beyond just a few weeks or a month in advance. It means anticipated roadblocks and dealing with them in a thoughtful manner. And yeah, it’s fucking hard.” Levi said, and Eren was relieved to find he was sounding more like himself.

“I want you to think about the decision that makes the most sense for you. Not for me, or us—you. It’s not worth us getting in a fight over when it’s clear we’re both fighting for the same thing, here,” Levi said with a crooked smile.

Eren couldn’t help but smile a little bit in return. “Okay.”

They still went out to dinner as planned, but they talked very little, dancing around the echoes of the words they had spoken earlier that day. There was nothing more than a chaste kiss and a tight hug at the end of the night, and Eren ended up going back to his dorm feeling decidedly empty even though he had everything he had ever wanted within his reach.

---

The next day saw Eren back in the lab with Hanji, who spent most of the time trying to apologize to him.

“I had no idea, Eren, I’m so sorry,” she said with rare, disarming sincerity.

“It’s not your fault, don’t apologize,” Eren said, feeling strangely for Hanji’s somber mood, because he was sure Levi was none too pleased with Hanji as of now.

“He just wants the best for you, you know? We all do. And I know I forced you into applying, but it’s because you have potential.”

Eren opened up a new box of beakers and began checking them for any cracks. He sighed, putting one that had a small chip down on the table. “I never even thought about St. Maria’s…and their program is so long. Not to mention the cost.”

Hanji pursed her lips. “That’s true. But did you not think about it because you didn’t think you’d get in, or because you just don’t want to go?”

“Of course I didn’t think I’d get in, but it was more like…I wasn’t really enchanted by the prestige the same way most people are, I guess.”

Hanji was quiet for a moment. “Did you apply anywhere else?”

“Not yet. St. Maria’s had the only early application date.”

“I’m not technically supposed to talk about this yet, but there’s a fellowship that’s going to open up in the department here. I know it’s not as prestigious as SMU, but it’s nothing to scoff at, either. Not to mention that it’s a full ride through the Ph.D, provided you’re ready to teach some introductory courses.”

Eren’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t turn to look at Hanji yet, instead choosing to mull over her words.

“It’ll probably be pretty competitive, considering the fact that it’ll not only pay for your education, but you’ll receive a stipend as well. That being said, your work has been impressive these past four years. And I’d certainly be willing to put in a good word!” Hanji said with a grin.

Eren put down the beakers and couldn’t contain a matching smile.

---

Eren and Levi tiptoed around each other for the next few weeks, but it was fine, because both of them were incredibly busy—so busy that they only saw each other once or twice a week, and sometimes only for an hour or so at a time.

The application for the fellowship at Trost came out a few weeks after Hanji told Eren about it, much to his relief. He spent a whole week writing it, asking for references, and practicing for the inevitable interview. He barely slept.

Despite the initial pain at being quasi-separated from Levi so soon after they got together, Eren had to admit the time alone gave him valuable time to think about where he and Levi stood. It was natural they clung to each other in the first few weeks of establishing their relationship; the important part was how they learned to deal with each other thereafter in the framework of their own separate lives.

Eren came to understand Levi’s fears about Eren throwing away his life in an effort to cherish their relationship. In completing the application, Eren was able to remind himself about all the things he still wanted to learn and explore; he didn’t want to give any of it up. At the same time, he didn’t want to move across the country and leave his family, friends, and Levi behind. He knew he just wouldn’t be happy at SMU; rejecting the online offer brought him relief instead of regret, confirming his decision.

After clicking “submit” on the application for the Trost fellowship, Eren punched a few buttons on his phone.

“Hey,” he breathed with nervous energy. “Are you home?”

---

“It’s almost midnight,” Levi groused, but he opened the door anyway.

Instead of stepping past him, Eren wrapped him in a tight hug. He felt Levi’s arms twitch at his side, as if he was unsure what to do. He heard him sigh before slipping his own arms around Eren.

“I miss you.” Eren said earnestly, burying his face in the older man’s neck.

“Me too.”

Eren held on for a few more moments, reveling in Levi’s scent and the fact that he was standing in his boyfriend’s apartment; he hadn’t been by in weeks. The two had seen each other a few times on campus, but they had mostly stuck around the coffee shop to make small talk.

Eren hated it. He hated having to ignore the issue at hand, and thus being unable to speak honestly to Levi about anything. It had almost been a relief to be a part when they were acting like that around each other, not wanting to spark a fight or hurt one another.

Almost.

Eventually, regretfully, Eren broke the hug.

“Can we talk?” He asked, arms on Levi’s shoulders.

Levi nodded shortly, then turned to go inside. Eren sat down at the small table in Levi’s kitchen and watched Levi turn on the stove to boil water for tea.

A few moments later, the water was on, and Levi took a seat across from Eren.

“I’m not going to St. Maria’s.” Eren said, deciding that preamble was unnecessary.

Levi didn’t look surprised, but he did frown.

“It’s not just because of us. I can’t see myself there. I talked to some of the faculty over Skype, and I didn’t like the professor who wanted to supervise me. We didn’t click, and he spent the whole time pointing out holes in my research. It made me wonder why they even accepted me.” Eren said truthfully.

Eren cleared his throat and went on. “I just finished applying for a fellowship here. It’s a full ride, too, which is great because I would have had to take out loans to attend SMU, and the program here is shorter, too. And I obviously like the faculty. I wouldn’t be working with the same people I worked with in undergrad, but I’ve looked at their work and it aligns with a lot of my own interests.”

“It sounds like you did your homework,” Levi said, and Eren was so relieved at the sight of his wry smile that he wanted to break into tears.

“It doesn’t hurt that my super hot boyfriend lives here, either,” Eren said with a sarcastic shrug and a grin of his own.

Getting serious once again, he continued. “But really, I don’t want to leave everyone behind. I know you think that being dependent on friends and family—and you—could be a crutch, but I need it. I need to be here with you. I know you’re not used to relying on people, so it’s hard for you to understand where I’m coming from—”

“I understand.” Levi said, looking at him with an affectionate gaze. Levi grabbed his hand across the table.

“I didn’t want you to leave. I’m still a selfish old man. But I had to—”

“You had to give me a chance.” Eren finished with a soft grin. “I get it.”

“Ah, the water’s boiling.” Levi said, getting up. He shuffled to the stove and, with practiced ease, poured the water into a tea pot through a strainer.

Eren watched him with unmasked fondness.

Seeing Levi at home in his sweatpants and a T-shirt that was far too large for him is something he had never even thought about, but he was quickly becoming rather attached to the image.

Right after Levi got out two cups and set them on the counter next to the tea pot, Eren grabbed his hand.

“Hey—!” Levi said in surprise as he was dragged out of the tiny kitchen into Levi’s living room.

“Where’s your stereo?” He asked as he pulled his iPod out of his pocket. Levi looked at him like he’d gone mad.

Eren practically skipped over to the other end of the room, having located the output. He plugged in his iPod in a matter of seconds and turned the volume up.

A slow, thinly textured ballade began to play, and Eren practically skipped back to Levi, who was looking at him like he had gone nuts.

Eren wrapped his arms around Levi’s waist and pulled him in close.

“Improper form,” Levi murmured in jest, resting his head against the top of Eren’s chest. Eren just rested his head on top of Levi’s and closed his eyes. They swayed in time together.

It wasn’t structured, and it certainly had little to do with what he had learned under Levi’s tutelage. But Eren figured there were times to follow the rules, and there were times to throw them out the window and do what felt right.

Besides, judging by the way Levi rested against him, breathing slowly in time with the music, he wasn’t complaining in earnest.

“I always have been better at the horizontal tango than the vertical one,” Eren murmured, mentally patting himself on the back for saying it with a straight face.

Levi stepped on his foot rather gracefully.

Chapter Text

A low whistle caused Eren to jump as he shut the door behind him.

“If I’d known you cleaned up so nicely, I probably would have said ‘fuck it’ and made a move years ago.”

Eren turned around with a scowl on his face, despite the obvious humor in Levi’s voice. “Not funny.”

“Definitely funny,” Levi said as he pulled Eren down by his coat jacket to kiss him on the cheek. “You smell nice, too,” he added before breaking away from a now-very-red Eren.

“Shut up,” Eren grumbled, even though he not-so-secretly really enjoyed the praise.

“Jean’s mother let me in. How is the groom doing, anyway?” Levi asked, raising an eyebrow.

Eren rolled his eyes. “He’s having a freak-out in the bedroom. I just spent half an hour in there with him. I’m taking a break.”

“Cold feet?” Levi asked, confused.

“No. He can’t stop crying, and once he looked in a mirror and saw how disgusting he looks—moreso than usual, that is—he began to panic. ‘Today has to be perfect!’ ‘Mikasa won’t love me anymore!’ ‘Our future children will be seeing these pictures, Eren!’” Eren dropped his voice a few octaves and waved his arms back and forth to mimic a distressed Jean. “Etcetera.”

“Bite me, Yeager!” Came the groom’s wobbly-yet-furious voice from the door behind Eren.

Eren rolled his eyes and jabbed a thumb in the direction of the door, giving Levi a look that said “Can you believe this guy?”

An amused grin made its way across Levi’s face. “I think leaving him alone for now is a good idea. How’s the bride doing?”

“She’s totally fine. Krista and Annie are putting flowers in her hair or something.”

“So we have a good two hours ‘til showtime,” Levi pointed out, giving Eren a look.

Eren grinned devilishly, catching on. He pulled Levi in close, playing with his tie. “You know, no one’s in Jean’s old bedroom right now…” he murmured close to Levi’s ear.

“That’s so disgusting.” Levi said flatly, pushing Eren away and turning on his heel.

Eren pouted.

Levi took a few steps, then looked back over his shoulder at Eren.

The expression he gave Eren, with his glinting eyes and slightly maniacal grin, made Eren’s knees a little weak.

(Okay, okay. A lot weak.)

“I didn’t say no, did I?”

---

The two stumbled out of the bedroom a little over an hour later, Eren’s tuxedo disheveled and Levi’s hair sticking up at nearly every possible angle. Though Eren had said they could maybe sneak in showers before the ceremony, Levi told him that they were, under no circumstances, having sex in Jean’s bed—under a Transformers duvet, no less. So, they had settled for an extended make-out session.

“We’ll have plenty of time later, you hormonal moron,” Levi had growled, slapping Eren’s hand away from his pants zipper.

Then, Eren had ended up falling asleep. Annoyed, Levi had thought about kicking him awake, but he settled for using Eren’s chest as a pillow and playing with his hair. He figured the kid had probably been running around all morning making sure everything was perfect for his sister’s big day; he deserved a break.

After closing the door behind them, Eren furrowed his brows and brought his hands up to flatten Levi’s hair. Levi huffed, pushing his hands away to fix it on his own. “Fix yourself,” Levi ordered, eying Eren’s wrinkled suit.

“Aw man, I spent so much money getting this pressed,” Eren whined once he looked down and noticed the state his clothing was in.

“It was your idea, don’t look at me,” Levi replied.

“It was an awesome idea, though.” Eren smirked.

“Oh, there you are, boys! I’ve been looking all over for you. The guests are starting to arrive. The band got here half an hour ago—oh, Professor, er, your, uh.” Jean’s mother stopped short, her face flushing.

“Hm?” Levi frowned, then looked down to where Mrs. Kirstein’s gaze had travelled.

He was missing his shoes. “Oh.”

He nonchalantly went back into Jean’s bedroom. Eren gave Mrs. Kirstein a pained smile. Seconds later, Levi stepped back out, no longer shoeless.

“Right. Well, Mikasa’s in the guest bedroom. She’s all ready for you, Eren.” Mrs. Kirstein said kindly, before walking away looking a little shell-shocked.

“Good going,” Eren huffed.

Levi just shrugged, a characteristically apathetic expression on his face.

Eren sighed. “Okay, I’m going to go grab Mikasa, so I’ll see you in a bit.”

He turned to head toward the guest bedroom, but a hand on his wrist stopped him.

“Eren,” Levi started. Eren turned around to watch him clear his throat uncomfortably and look anywhere but at Eren’s face. “I’m proud of you.”

Eren blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“Your parents would be really proud, too. For taking care of your sister.”

Now Levi was looking at him.

Eren felt the prick of tears in the corners of his eyes, and he reached his free hand up to wipe at his face madly. “Great, now I’m going to look bad in all the pictures, you jerk.” He groused.

Levi put his arms around Eren’s neck and pulled him in for a hug. After a moment, he broke away, fixed Eren’s hair, and told the younger man he would see him soon as he made his way downstairs to go and find his seat.

Eren sniffed a bit and tried to school his face into one of nothing but tranquility as he made his way into the guest bedroom down the hall. Cracking the door open, he saw Mikasa turn around to look at him from where she was sitting on a stool in one corner of the room.

No wonder Jean is such a mess, Eren thought. Then again, he hasn’t even seen her yet.

Mikasa was wearing a white gown with a high neck covered in lace. Eren recognized it immediately.

It was his mother’s, albeit updated in a few ways from what he remembered from his parents’ wedding photo. His mother’s dress had originally been long-sleeved, as was the style when she had married in Germany during her younger years, but this one was sleeveless; the train, too, was definitely made more modest to suit Mikasa’s style.

Eren couldn’t tell if the veil was his mother’s too, but either way, it was gorgeous. It was tied into a bun on the back of Mikasa’s head. A red flower peaked out from behind one of her ears, clearly Krista’s doing; she did own a flower shop, after all.

“Oh man,” Eren whispered, feeling himself tear up.

Mikasa’s red lips curled into a small smile, and her eyes shone when she looked at him.

“You’d think you were the one getting married today, with that expression,” she pointed out, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, making his way over to sit opposite her on another stool in the room. Mikasa turned back to look into the mirror at the two of them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask about your mom’s dress. I wanted it to be a surprise. We never found my mom’s, so I don’t—”

“It’s perfect. I’m so glad,” Eren said, his voice raw with emotion. “You look beautiful. You might end up widowed on your wedding day. Jean’s going to have a heart attack when he sees you.”

Mikasa laughed a bit, her voice a little like a bell. It really was one of Eren’s favorite sounds.

There was no denying he was jealous that he had to share it with Jean from now on.

“You know, I didn’t tell you we I was dating Jean because I thought I’d just end up breaking his heart. All I cared about was making sure you were happy, and I was certain that I didn’t need anyone else in my life as long as I had you.”

Eren listened as Mikasa spoke in that soft voice of hers, that little smile still on her face, though her words sounded a little sad, nostalgic.

“When you started pining after Levi I thought it was just a phase. You’d never been interested in anyone before, so I thought you’d find it was just a new sort of curiosity, and that you’d get bored…but then I realized how much you lit up when you talked about him, and I saw it. I realized it, and I hated him so much. I wanted to kill him,” Mikasa admitted seriously with a bitter laugh. Eren frowned a bit and opened his mouth, but Mikasa just shook her head.

“I was so scared I was going to end up being left behind. And then I realized how childish it was to think we didn’t need anyone else in our lives. And then Jean and I went out that night, and he said something—and honestly I don’t remember what it was—but I just remember thinking, oh, I really do love him. It hit me, just like that.”

Mikasa brought her hand up to touch the petals of the flower in her hair. She closed her eyes, then turned to Eren. She took his hands in hers, much like she did that day at the diner when she told Eren the news of her engagement.

“I love you so much, Eren. Thank you for always being here with me.”

It was a promise, Eren realized then, and he smiled in return. Even though they had welcomed other people into their lives, he knew that he and Mikasa would always have each other. It was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He felt silly for even thinking they would ever drift apart just because they’d both fallen in love.

“Of course,” he whispered, and hugged his sister.

---

The ceremony was a bit of a blur, probably because Eren was ninety percent sure he cried through the whole thing the minute he walked Mikasa down the aisle. He kissed her on the cheek, gave Jean a toothy grin (he didn’t think Jean noticed, because he was right; Jean was a sobbing mess the moment he saw her come outside), and found his seat next to Levi.

Levi grabbed his hand and didn’t let go the entire time. He found himself resting his head on Levi’s shoulder as she and Jean exchanged vows.

Marco kept having to hand Jean tissues as he spoke. Mikasa just watched him with an amused smile.

The newlyweds kissed and everyone cheered. Eren totally got tears and snot all over Levi’s designer suit, but Levi didn’t complain, and Eren thought about how Mikasa was right.

It was the weirdest little things that made you realize how much you loved someone.

---

“Thank you so much for coming everyone. We hope you enjoyed the speeches and the food. I know I’ve made fun of Jean enough to last me the next,” Eren glanced down at his watch, then looked back up, “twenty minutes.”

The crowd laughed, and Eren beamed before lifting the microphone up to his lips once more. “Anyway, I’d like to invite the lovely bride up here, because she owes me a first dance.”

He handed the microphone off and watched as Mikasa gathered up her skirts and made her way to the dance floor, laughing as he bent over in a deep, overdramatic bow. She curtsied in return, and the crowd cheered.

“Thank you, Eren,” Mikasa whispered as the band began to play a song and Eren brought her into the correct hold for a waltz.

Though the tune seemed familiar, Eren couldn’t put his finger on it. As soon as the woman began to sing, however, it hit him. It was a German lullaby his mother used to sing to them when they were small. Not speaking a word, he grinned at her, silently thanking her for the sentimental song choice.

The band’s guitarist strummed lightly along with the singer’s breathy voice, and the two floated across the floor. Mikasa lost her footing a few times, but no one could tell under the sweeping arc of her dress. It helped that Eren actually knew what he was doing, thanks to Levi’s training.

It was surreal to think that it was Mikasa’s wedding, of all things, that had ended up pushing them together. Without the wedding, Eren wouldn’t have worked up the courage to ask Levi for dance lessons. There’s a chance he would have ended up just watching him from afar until they were torn apart in some way—by distance, by other people, by some uncontrollable force of the universe.

Or maybe they would have ended up together anyway. Eren liked to think that they would have found their way to each other somehow even without this particular catalyst.

At the end of the song, everyone clapped, and Mikasa wrapped her arms around Eren’s neck and leaned into him. He did the same, breathing in the scent of the flower behind her ear.

“That was some fancy footwork, kid,” Levi said as Eren took a seat next to him at one of the tables that the caterers had set up for the reception in another part of the Kirsteins’ humongous backyard. Jean had taken Mikasa to the dancefloor, and the two were holding each other close and swaying to a romantic song Eren didn’t recognize.

Eren just grinned, still watching the happy couple.

“I learned from the best. And that’s Professor Yeager to you, sir,” Eren joked with a smug smile. He had found out a few days ago he had won the fellowship after a grueling interview process.

“Ha. Reminds me of when you exclusively called me Professor Ackerman.”

“Don’t tell me it turns you on,” Eren teased him, nudging his shoulder.

Levi just smirked and took a sip of his champagne. “This is improper wedding conversation.”

“True. This wedding is way too perfect for us to be soiling it with our dirty talk.” Eren agreed with a smile.

“It’s no wedding by the sea, though.” Levi pointed out nonchalantly.

Eren’s head whipped around, and his mouth fell open a bit.

Levi just smirked. “Armin told me that the first few times you got drunk, you went on long-winded rants about getting married by the sea.”

“When have you ever talked to Armin?” Eren asked, confusedly fighting the flush taking over his face.

“When I called to ask if you’d freak out if I asked you to move in with me after you graduate.”

Eren choked on his own saliva and began sputtering.

“He told me you would do that,” Levi said, nodding.

“Are you…?” Eren began, heart beating fast.

“You spend enough time there already, and your cleaning habits aren’t too shabby.” Levi said, looking Eren in the eye with a wry smile. “It looks like you’re here to stay, anyway, Professor.”

Eren covered his face with his hands and lowered his head to the table. He had no words. Levi had the worst habit of surprising him in the best of ways.

“It’s only awkward because you’re making it awkward, Eren.” Levi teased him, bringing his mouth close to Eren’s ear.

Suddenly, Eren felt a tug at his arm. All in one motion, he was pulled to his feet.

“Wha—”

“The happy couple’s first dance is over. It’s time for us to make them look bad,” Levi explained, barreling ahead despite Eren’s noises of protest.

“Wait a minute, I haven’t even—”

The band kicked the tempo up several notches, and the singer began singing an upbeat tune. The crowd cheered, awakened from the somber mood created by the previous song. Several people flooded the dancefloor. Eren put the champagne flute he was still holding down on a random table before Levi dragged him to the center of the floor.

“Are you sure about this?!” Eren asked, still blindsided by Levi’s proposition.

He began babbling, words flying out of his mouth a mile a minute. “I mean, I obviously want to, but then there’s the matter of rent…your place is so nice, I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford it right away. But I love you so much, and I want to be with you no matter what, and—wait, were you hinting at the possibility of a seaside wedding, because that wasn’t just a drunken fantasy, that’s a real fantasy. Wait, that’s an oxymoron, I mean that I actually do want to get married by the sea. To you. Oh my God, I didn’t mean to just ask you to marry me. I mean, I obviously want to, but—”

“Eren.”

“Yeah?” Eren answered weakly, finally finding the courage to look down and meet Levi’s gaze.

Levi was smiling, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. The lights from the lanterns the Kirsteins had hung around the backyard made his eyes look bluer than Eren had ever seen them.

“Shut up and dance.”