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Their first meeting was anything but romantic, if Eren was being honest. It was pouring rain, and the wind seemed to have a personal vendetta against him—no matter which way he turned, it always smacked him in the face. He knew he should’ve brought an umbrella, but of course he’d forgotten, and to top it off, his so-called waterproof jacket had gotten ripped to shreds last week because of his own impatience.
He’d moved out of his old apartment and into this new city a few months ago, but he still didn’t know a single soul here. Hell, he barely even knew where to go for groceries, let alone where to buy a decent jacket for shitty weather like this. Chances were he’d have to order one online. The only stroke of luck he had was living right across from a massive forest—because otherwise, there’s no way in hell he would’ve found a good place to walk his dog. Eren’s sense of direction was, well… nonexistent.
He still remembered last week, when he came home later than usual and it was already starting to get dark. He’d grabbed his dog, slapped on the LED collar, and headed out, thinking nothing of it. But the weather gods clearly hated his guts, because thirty minutes in, thick fog rolled over everything. If it weren’t for that glowing collar, he swore he wouldn’t have even seen his own damn dog. He ended up being lost in the woods for two hours that night. Two hours.
At least today he’d started his walk while it was still light out.
At first, the drizzle wasn’t so bad. Eren had thick hair, his dog didn’t give a damn about getting wet, and things were fine for about forty minutes. But then the rain got heavier, the wind picked up, and he decided to call it quits. The walk back would take another forty minutes, but whatever—better wet than dead.
Normally, Eren didn’t mind the rain. Hell, he even preferred it over sunshine, since sunshine brought out all the annoying assholes who’d otherwise stay glued to their couches. But when he heard branches cracking and crashing onto the forest floor, sunshine suddenly didn’t sound so bad anymore.
Without even calling, he turned around and headed back. His dog immediately noticed and followed along. The mutt had never had any formal training, but he obeyed every damn signal Eren gave him, whether it was a word or just a wave of the hand. Eren thanked the gods for that. Without this dog, he probably would’ve yeeted himself off the nearest bridge a long time ago.
Looking at his best friend, Eren thought back to the day he decided to adopt the black Dobermann. His ancestors back in Germany had been famous dog breeders—mostly German Shepherds, but also Dobermanns and Poodles. His dad even kept a folder of old newspaper articles about the Jaeger family’s breeding history. Eren figured that’s where his obsession with dogs came from.
He’d always wanted one, though his original plan had been a Dalmatian. But then he saw an ad for two Dobermanns in need of a home. “Accidents,” the article said—unwanted puppies who’d likely end up in a shelter if nobody took them. One male, one female. One look at the pictures and Eren was sold. He drove three hours to meet them and would’ve adopted both, but thankfully, the female had already been taken. The male pup, though—yeah, it was love at first sight.
That little ball of chaos had grown into a gorgeous dog: sleek black fur over his head and back, brown patches on his chest, floppy ears too big for his head, and a long slender tail that wagged like a whip.
Six years had passed since Eren brought him home, and he hadn’t regretted it for a single damn second. The dog had been easy to house-train, got along with every other dog they met, and was so well-behaved that Eren usually didn’t even bother with a leash. He carried one anyway, out of respect for people afraid of dogs—or for other dogs who didn’t take kindly to an off-leash stranger—but he never had to worry about his own running off.
Eren felt the leash now, soaked through in his hands, his sweatshirt already drenched and the shirt underneath following suit. A hot shower was definitely waiting for him when he got back—right after drying off the dog.
That was the one thing they always clashed over: Eren liked a clean, mud-free apartment, while his dog absolutely loved shaking all that dirty, wet fur the second they stepped inside. That’s why Eren had to rush to grab the towel by the door and practically tackle the dog every damn time. One second too slow, and the hallway—walls included—was a swampy mess.
While Eren was busy imagining the coming battle with his wet, four-legged menace, he flicked through the songs on his wireless headphones. Best investment of his life—those things were worth every damn penny. Not only did they keep his ears warm, they were waterproof and soundproof. Bless whoever invented them.
So focused was he on finding the perfect track that he didn’t notice his dog suddenly stop and glance behind him. He also didn’t hear the furious voice yelling at him to watch out. What he did notice was the sudden, crushing weight slamming into his back—followed by the delightful experience of face-planting straight into the mud.
Pain shot through his knees, back, and arms as he scrambled to get up, finally freed from the heavy mass that had flattened him. His first instinct was to look for his headset—flung off somewhere—and then his dog, praying he wasn’t in the middle of ripping apart whatever had just tackled his ass.
Turned out, the culprit wasn’t a bear or serial killer, but a massive St. Bernard who, at that moment, was far more interested in trying to play with his Dobermann. Not that Eren’s dog was particularly amused. The giant furball, however, noticed Eren sitting up and immediately bounded over, launching itself onto his muddy chest and covering his face in slobber.
Eren winced at the wet tongue assaulting his cheek but couldn’t stop himself from laughing. Once the initial shock wore off, he shoved the drooly beast off him and finally caught sight of the man storming toward them.
Black hair plastered wet against his head, a scowl so deep it could cut glass, and another dog on a leash at his side—clearly the St. Bernard belonged to him. Eren grabbed the playful mutt by the collar and noticed the shredded remains of what used to be a leash dangling from it.
He stood up quickly, acutely aware that he was covered in mud from head to toe, while his “attacker’s” owner drew closer. And—holy shit—up close, the guy looked gorgeous. His wet hair was pushed out of his face, and though he was a couple of inches shorter than Eren, his stance and whole presence demanded respect. He wore black dress pants and a crisp white button-up shirt, topped with a black jacket—like he’d just stepped out of an office meeting and into a fashion ad. What blew Eren’s mind, though, was that despite walking two dogs in a muddy forest during a rainstorm, the guy’s outfit was spotless. Not one speck of dirt.
Meanwhile, Eren looked like he’d crawled out of a swamp. A dirty mutt himself, standing there dripping filth, trying not to stare too obviously at the unfairly hot stranger. He sighed, berating himself for checking out the guy while the oblivious dog panted happily beside him.
As he walked closer, still gripping the St. Bernard, the man’s glare only deepened. Eren swallowed hard. For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the anger wasn’t just directed at the dog—like maybe, somehow, he himself had already managed to piss this guy off.
The man’s glare somehow deepened as Eren came closer, and he gulped. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the guy wasn’t just pissed at the dog—like somehow he had done something wrong.
“Are you fucking deaf?” were the first words the stranger hurled at him.
Eren froze, bewildered. Yeah, that one was definitely aimed at him.
“…Excuse me?”
“I asked if you were fucking deaf. Did you seriously not hear me screaming over that goddamn mutt? That bitch ripped this cheap-ass leash to shreds. Fucking psycho dog for a fucking psycho owner, I swear.” The last bit was muttered more to himself, but Eren still caught it.
Shell-shocked, Eren just stood there—soaked, muddy, holding onto this runaway beast for a man who had apparently mistaken him for a punching bag. How the hell did his life always turn into this kind of bullshit? Fighting back wasn’t worth it, though, so without a word, he handed the slobbery St. Bernard back and turned away, scanning the mud for his headphones. The rain was still hammering down, and all he wanted was a hot shower and his couch. Today just wasn’t his day.
Hell, the last few months hadn’t been his months.
He was halfway through mentally writing off any chance of ever making friends in his building—because if anyone saw him like this, they’d avoid him like the plague—when he suddenly felt a warm hand on his shoulder.
“You’re not hurt, are you? Or your dog? At least one of these flea-ridden bastards seems capable of behaving.”
Startled, Eren turned to face him. He shook his head silently, then bent back to his search. He heard shuffling behind him and figured the man was about to leave him the hell alone, but instead came a cleared throat.
“Look,” the stranger said, voice lower now, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m pissed at the dog’s shitty excuse for an owner. And that bargain-bin leash—thing probably wouldn’t hold a crippled squirrel, let alone a two-hundred-pound maniac.”
Was… was that an apology? Eren guessed so. And against his better judgment, he actually started to laugh. The stranger’s mouth twitched into something that looked suspiciously like a smirk.
“Yeah, okay. Well, at least your other dog didn’t get loose too, or I’d still be face-down in the mud.” Eren cracked.
He figured that would be the end of it, but nope.
“You looking for something? Did that idiot mutt break anything?” the man asked, fussing with the snapped leash and trying to knot it back together.
“Ah, no, I’m just—” Eren started, when his Dobermann trotted over carrying the missing headset carefully in his jaws. “Never mind, found it. Thanks, Corporal. Good boy!” He slipped his pup a soggy treat and gave him a fond pat.
The stranger shot him a horrified look. “Please tell me you did not actually name your dog ‘Corporal.’”
Eren grinned. “No, no—I was talking to you.” He let the pause hang just long enough for the man’s glare to darken. “Yeah, I named him Corporal. What’s it to you? I think it’s a badass name.”
The man gave the leash another tug—only for it to snap apart again. “Dammit.”
Eren now had everything he needed to just walk away. Headphones found, mud-soaked dignity somewhat intact. But… he didn’t want to. Honestly, he hoped to get the stranger’s name, maybe even keep talking. Even if he looked like a half-drowned rat right now.
So instead of leaving, he took a hesitant step closer and held out his own leash.
“Here. Take this one. I barely use it anyway, and I’ve got a bunch at home.”
That wasn’t even a lie. Eren couldn’t care less about shopping for himself, but when it came to Corporal? He was a total sucker.
He had at least twenty collars and matching leashes back at home. At his old pet stores, he’d been infamous for blowing half his paycheck on beds, food, toys, and treats. He couldn’t help it—if he saw something that might suit his best friend, he had to buy it. And since there wasn’t anyone else to spend money on, why the hell not?
The stranger gave him a curious look but took the leash with a quiet, mumbled, “Thanks.” Once the runaway St. Bernard was secured, he turned back toward Eren—as if expecting him to follow. And, of course, Eren did.
After a stretch of silence thick enough to choke on, the man finally spoke.
“Tell me,” he said, voice sharp, “how the hell is your dog so fucking well-behaved? It’s aggravating, really. Maybe I can tell Hanji and they’ll finally figure out how to handle their dipshit mutt.”
Eren snorted. The way the guy talked just didn’t match his sharp, clean-cut appearance. It made everything he said sound twice as funny. Still, the man’s irritation clung to every word.
“So I was wondering…” Eren started, already regretting it, “neither of these dogs are yours, right? Are they your girlfriend’s?”
And there it was—the moment he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. Couldn’t one of these damn branches just fall and crush him so he didn’t have to live through that pathetic excuse for flirting? At least he hadn’t pissed himself. Small victories.
The man didn’t even flinch. “No. Right now I’m debating whether I should still call them friends at all—or murder them. But if you read about that in the paper, you never heard it from me.” Was that a joke? Eren thought so.
“I just walk these fleabags when Hanji’s on call. Don’t ask me why I agreed to torture myself. Clearly no one ever trained them to deal with their size.”
Eren couldn’t help but be impressed. The guy held both St. Bernards steady, controlling their pace and direction, even while they pulled hard against him. Together, they probably weighed over three hundred pounds, yet somehow he had them under control. Even with the muscles showing through his rain-soaked shirt, Eren thought the guy should’ve been yanked down the path like a ragdoll.
“What are their names?” he asked. And yours, he added silently.
At first, there was nothing but silence. Then the man exhaled, closed his eyes, and mumbled something too low to catch.
“Sorry, what was that?” Eren asked.
“Sawny and Bean,” the man muttered, gesturing at each dog. “I’m embarrassed just saying it. But then again, you named your dog Corporal.”
He smirked, and Eren felt his face heat.
“Anyway… what was your name again?”
“Eren,” he said, cheeks still warm.
“Levi,” the man replied with a sharp nod. “Pleasure. Now back to my question—how the hell did you manage to get your dog this well-trained? I’m asking for selfish reasons. I’ll be the poor bastard stuck walking these bears again.”
Levi didn’t look remotely interested, but Eren answered anyway.
“I can’t really say. Probably just lucky. But if you keep walking them regularly and praise them when they actually do something right, they’ll get used to your pace and behave better. They’ve got loads of energy though—why not let them off leash? They seem friendly enough, and Bean didn’t bite me or Corporal. If they cross a line, Corporal will put them in their place. He’s dominant, but most dogs accept that without trouble.”
His Dobermann looked up at him, and Eren rewarded him with another pat. Dogs deserved praise for being cute too, in his opinion. Maybe he spoiled Corporal too much… but so what?
Levi sighed, exasperated. “I didn’t want them bolting off in this shit weather.”
Eren grinned. “Well… that plan didn’t exactly work out, did it?”
The scowl Levi shot him was pure murder, but he seemed to consider Eren’s words. Then, with a sharp tug, he stopped walking and unhooked both leashes.
The St. Bernards exploded with joy, sprinting around them like lunatics. After circling ten times at lightning speed, they tore off after Corporal, who happily bolted into a game of chase.
Eren couldn’t help it—he laughed, his cold face warming into a wide smile. These were his favorite moments: dogs being dogs, allowed to just run, play, and be free.
The five of them continued down the path, the only sounds the pounding rain and the joyful chaos of their dogs.
Eren caught himself staring at Levi more than once. The man’s pants and shoes had finally surrendered to the weather, now speckled with brown splatters and a muddy pawprint stamped right over his left knee. His hair was cut in a neat undercut, though a few damp strands had escaped their slicked-back hold and fallen into his face. Against the black jacket, his pale skin looked almost luminous. Black really suited him.
But every time Eren realized he was staring, he scolded himself—first for being rude, and second for harboring such wildly inappropriate feelings toward a stranger. Levi was probably straight, probably had a gorgeous girlfriend, maybe even a wife and kids. Meanwhile, Eren was standing here like a lovesick idiot, covered in mud, pining after a man who surely had better things to do.
The two of them trudged steadily closer to the forest’s exit, and with every step Eren felt panic tightening in his chest. He didn’t want this to end. He didn’t want to just say goodbye and never see Levi again. He wanted to talk more, to learn who this man really was, to figure out why exactly he felt so drawn to him. But he couldn’t think of a single excuse to ask for his number, or to make sure they crossed paths again.
Then he remembered Levi’s earlier complaint about walking the St. Bernards more often. Maybe that was his chance. Maybe, if fate was kind, they’d run into each other again. Hopefully when he wasn’t caked in mud, when one of them actually had an umbrella, when he had the courage to ask for something more.
Levi called the two massive dogs back, and Eren noticed how much calmer they seemed after their run. He also noticed Levi was still using his leash, and the thought warmed him in a ridiculous way. Like a little memento, he thought with a grin at his own stupidity.
Just as he finally worked up the nerve to say, Maybe we’ll see each other again, Levi spoke first, startling him.
“Hey. Listen. I’ve got dog duty next Monday too. I’ll be here at four. Think you can make it? Would be a damn relief if your dog could wear these two out again—and maybe you can show me how to keep them in line. Just thinking about it gives me a headache.”
Eren didn’t even let him finish before nodding furiously.
“Yeah! Totally, I’ll be here at four. I mean, I’m usually around that time anyway, and I’d love to see them again!”
Levi smirked at that, muttering something under his breath that Eren couldn’t quite catch. The younger man’s grin faltered, wondering if Levi had only meant it as a joke. But then Levi scoffed:
“Alright. It’s a date then. Don’t be late. I fucking hate tardiness.”
Monday came faster than Eren expected. He’d been nervous all week, obsessively checking the weather forecast at least three times a day. But for once, the gods seemed to be on his side. Not only had he finally made a friend at work, but the weather was perfect for a walk: crisp but not too cold, autumn light still golden in the afternoon, a thin veil of fog hovering just inches above the damp ground. The earth was soft but not swampy, with no puddles to worry about.
At 3:30 sharp, he laced up his worn sneakers and clipped Corporal’s red leather collar and matching leash in place. His mom always teased him that his “gay fashion sense” only showed up when it came to picking dog gear, but Eren thought that was nonsense. Every dog owner needed a good variety of collars and leashes for different occasions—that wasn’t gay, that was just practical.
Truth was, he loved spoiling his dog. Corporal was his pride and joy. Eren had photos of him plastered everywhere—his phone lock screen, his computer background, even printed and framed. One of his favorites was a shot of Corporal perched on a stone wall, staring over a river like some regal king surveying his kingdom. That very collar—the bold red one—was what he wore today.
Eren took that as a good sign.
All dressed up and (definitely not) ready, Eren headed out with Corporal, who—thank the gods—took care of his business before Levi even arrived. Few things were as painfully awkward as standing around while your dog squatted like a lawn ornament.
The minutes dragged, and Eren’s nerves ratcheted up with every passing second. Maybe Levi had been joking about meeting up. Maybe Eren had gotten the day wrong. Maybe Levi had picked up on his obvious interest and found it disgusting. Or worse—what if the man was already considering filing harassment charges? Not that Eren had done anything, technically, but still…
“Eren. I see you made it.”
That voice—smooth, calm, familiar—came from the left. Eren turned, and there he was: Levi, walking steadily toward him with two massive, overexcited St. Bernards in tow. One in each hand, as if it were nothing. Eren’s brain short-circuited again, wondering how the hell Levi managed to control both beasts without stumbling, sweating, or being dragged into the dirt.
“Yeah. Hello, Levi. Hello, Sawny and Bean.” Eren gave a small wave to the trio.
The dogs immediately surged forward, trying to pull toward him. Levi shut that shit down instantly by stopping dead in his tracks, letting them nearly choke themselves on the collars.
Eren winced. It made his heart ache to see dogs strangle themselves just because they didn’t know when to quit. “Maybe collars aren’t the best choice for them,” he said, almost to himself. “A harness might work better, especially since they pull so hard.”
Levi gave him a questioning look, waiting for more. So Eren explained, and Levi glanced down at the two panting, restless beasts now sitting and waiting impatiently to be freed again.
“I’ll… talk to Hanji about it,” Levi muttered. “They’re the ones who should buy the right gear. I don’t know shit about dogs, honestly. Always thought they were supposed to be faithful, intelligent companions. Service animals, police dogs, that kind of thing. But the day I met these two shitheads, that image was instantly replaced by slobbering, hairy, heavy-as-fuck bears. No idea how Hanji, of all people, manages to walk them. The three of them are basically on the same mental level.”
Eren bit back a laugh, trying not to snicker at the way Levi’s filthy language clashed with his otherwise sharp, composed demeanor.
And Levi… goddamn. Today he wasn’t dressed like a runway model on his way through the forest, but even in casual clothes—dark jeans and a fitted black polo—he still looked unfairly good.
Meanwhile, Eren had thrown on his old jeans and a green T-shirt. Comfortable, sure, but compared to Levi he felt sloppy as hell. Not that he was going to wear his best clothes to walk Corporal. At least Levi seemed to have learned that lesson from last time.
“Come on,” Levi said, already turning toward a side path. “Let’s get going. I want to let these mutts loose.”
And just like that, he led the way down one of Eren’s favorite trails.
Corporal waited patiently until his two new friends were unhooked, and then the three of them exploded into motion, sprinting wild circles around the men. One tight loop almost knocked Eren flat again.
“Hey! Careful!” He laughed, steadying himself. “I don’t want to end up kissing the ground again.”
Levi snorted. “The chances are pretty fucking high, considering those two tanks together weigh about three times more than you. I still don’t get why your dog is so damn well-behaved while these two look like they’re about to wipe out an army just by existing.”
Dodging another flying furball, Eren shot back, “And I’m curious how you manage to hold on to them so easily. If I were walking them, they’d probably—”
He never finished the sentence. A sleek black Doberman zipped past his legs, brushing lightly against his calves. But the other dog—either Sawny or Bean, he had no idea—slammed straight into him at full force. Eren tried to counterbalance, shifting backward, but luck wasn’t on his side. One of the dogs had plopped right down behind him, blocking any escape step. His fate was sealed.
Except—he never hit the ground.
An arm, strong and unyielding, caught him firmly around the waist and hauled him upright.
“Well,” Levi’s voice was practically in his ear, low and close enough to raise goosebumps, “you clearly can’t even handle them off leash, lightweight.”
Eren’s whole body flushed. Heat spread from his cheeks down his neck, and his skin prickled with tingling nerves. He fumbled, stammering out half-formed apologies, trying to wriggle out of Levi’s grasp before he embarrassed himself further.
And then—Levi laughed.
Not a scoff, not a sarcastic huff, but a real laugh. Full, unguarded, rich.
Eren froze, stunned. He hadn’t thought Levi could get any more attractive, but holy hell was he wrong. The way Levi’s eyes crinkled, the rare spark of light in their gray depths, the flash of teeth, the deep rumble of his amusement—it all shot straight through Eren’s chest, fizzing warmly in his stomach until his own helpless giggles bubbled up.
They stood there for who knew how long, both laughing, Levi’s arm still steady around Eren’s waist even though he was perfectly balanced now.
Finally, embarrassed, Eren slipped free and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, uh… thanks for catching me. I swear I’m not usually that clumsy.” He grinned, motioning for Levi to keep walking.
“Mhm.” Levi smirked. “In your defense, no one really stands a chance against these wild boars. Well—except maybe Hanji and me. Years of martial arts and core training. But that brings us back to my original point. Hanji expects me to walk them again, so I need these fur-covered disasters tamed. They’re a danger to the public. I don’t know what’s wrong with them.”
Eren nodded, trying not to let his growing crush show on his face. “I don’t think they’re actually badly behaved. They’ve just got a lot of pent-up energy. If they could play like this every day, they’d tire out faster, and maybe they’d even learn to dodge people instead of barreling through them.” He laughed, rubbing his neck again.
Levi smirked at that, humming in faint agreement. And so, they fell into an easy rhythm—talking through different ways to train two hyperactive dogs that, technically, didn’t even belong to them.
An older couple approached them on the trail, the woman clutching her partner’s arm with wide, wary eyes. Eren immediately signaled Corporal to heel at his side, then helped Levi leash the two Bernards. Once the couple had passed, he crouched down, slipped each of the dogs a treat, and gave their heads an affectionate pat.
Levi’s brow arched.
“Positive reinforcement,” Eren explained, grinning a little. “Treats and encouragement go a long way.”
Levi hummed, filing that away, then asked with surprising curiosity, “So why didn’t you give Corporal any last time?”
Pride warmed Eren’s chest. “He doesn’t need them. Corporal listens because he wants to. Honestly, I just forgot to bring treats last time. But even I try to remember—because it’s not just about rewarding good behavior. It’s about showing your dog you appreciate them.”
Levi studied him for a beat, then wordlessly held out his palm. “Would you be so kind as to lend me some of those delicious doggy snacks for my very appreciated companions?” His tone was bone-dry, but his steel-gray eyes locked onto Eren’s.
A laugh bubbled up before Eren smothered it into a smile. He dug into his pockets and handed over a small bag of treats… and a packet of tissues.
Levi quirked a brow. “Okay, thanks. But what the hell are the cum fetchers for?”
Eren rolled his eyes, pouting. “Contrary to your beliefs, I don’t enjoy being covered in mud and dog slobber, thank you very much.”
“Alright, alright,” Levi smirked, dodging Eren’s halfhearted swat. “No need to feel so attacked. I mean, I wasn’t the one face-planting in the mud the other day.” His lips twitched. “Anyway, tell me, oh great dog whisperer—how exactly do I feed these things to a mutt that looks like it could take my whole arm off?”
Instead of answering, Eren called all three dogs to him. They bounded over at once, tails wagging. He knelt, showed Levi how to hold his palm open and flat, and let each dog take a treat cleanly. A quick wipe, a shoo, and the dogs were back at play.
“See? Just keep your hand flat. Maybe we can even teach them to sit first. Could be a good start.”
Levi tested it out, calling Sawny and Bean. With a little coaxing, both sat obediently before taking their treats. His lips curved in a rare flicker of satisfaction.
“That’s good enough for me. I’m not aiming for a dog show. I just want them to stop dragging me through hell on every walk.” He wiped his hand and tucked the tissues into his pocket without comment.
Eren chuckled. “It’d help a lot if your friend trained them too. Just basic stuff—sit, stay, come, heel. That’s enough for daily walks.” Then, hesitantly: “But… do you really not enjoy walking them? I mean, aside from the pulling. For me, walking with Corporal is the most relaxing part of my day. Just… walking, breathing, clearing my head. It’s what I look forward to.” He risked a glance at Levi.
Levi’s gaze lingered on him, unflinching. “With the right company, I might enjoy it too.”
The words landed like stones in Eren’s stomach. There it was—confirmation. Levi didn’t enjoy his company. He probably thought Eren was annoying, some hopeless dog dad projecting affection onto strangers. Eren forced a smile, swallowing the ache in his chest.
“Maybe if you asked one of your friends to come along,” he said lightly, “or… someone special, you’d get it. But hey, you don’t have to share my weird love for walks.” He even laughed, covering his disappointment with practiced ease.
But Levi didn’t look away. His gray eyes stayed locked on green.
“You’re special enough for that,” Levi said flatly, like it was the simplest truth in the world. “My friends would ruin it. I like your company just fine.”
Eren’s breath caught. Heat surged to his cheeks. He looked away quickly, afraid of what he might do—or say—if he held that gaze any longer. The bubbles in his stomach were about to burst.
They walked for a while in easy silence, the only sounds their steps on damp earth and the dogs tearing around in circles. When Sawny and Bean suddenly headbutted each other like drunk rams, Eren doubled over laughing. After that, conversation flowed again—likes, hobbies, little details about their lives. Eren admitted how rough the move had been, how lonely the first weeks at his new job felt, and how relieved he was to finally make a friend. In turn, Levi shared bits about his work at the lab, where he’d first met Hanji.
All too soon, the forest path thinned and the exit loomed ahead. Eren realized he’d been unconsciously slowing down, dragging out the walk—and, unless he was imagining it, Levi had matched his pace without comment.
This time, Eren swore, he’d ask for Levi’s number. Every step was a pep talk, every breath a countdown. And yet when the moment came, he chickened out. Disappointed, he kicked at a loose stone—only to slip again.
He caught himself before he hit the ground, but when he straightened, a strong hand was gripping his arm.
“For someone who walks his dog every day, you’re awfully shaky on those Bambi legs,” Levi drawled, hand lingering.
“And for someone so old, you’ve got pretty sharp reflexes,” Eren shot back before he could stop himself. Heat flooded his face. God, he was terrible at flirting.
“Watch it, Jaeger,” Levi said smoothly, “or next time I’ll let you land on that pretty ass of yours.”
Pretty ass.
The hand was still on his arm.
If this was a dream, Eren never wanted to wake up.
When Levi finally let go, reality rushed back in. Eren braced for the inevitable goodbye—only to watch Levi pull a phone from his pocket and shove it into Eren’s hand.
“You were right about these walks,” Levi said, calm as ever. “They’re… not so bad. Especially once these two dirt-mongers started listening. Maybe you could share more of your dog knowledge with me.” A pause, then his lips quirked. “You know what? Screw it. I think you’re interesting. I’d like to take you out—walk, coffee, whatever. I don’t want to wait until Thursday’s dog duty.”
Eren’s chest felt like it might burst. His laugh bubbled out, unrestrained, as he stared at the phone in his hand.
“Are you serious? This isn’t some weird prank?” His grin refused to fade.
Levi’s own smile—small, real—answered him. “I’m serious, you little brat. Your dog-guru talk worked on me. I’m free after three every day. Call me, text me, don’t care. Just… don’t spam me, and don’t expect me to send emojis. I know you’d overdo it.”
Eren laughed even harder. “Okay, fair. But I’m more of a GIF guy anyway.”
Levi narrowed his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you’ll find out.”
They parted ways at the edge of the forest, gathering their dogs. Eren turned down his path, buzzing with giddiness, but couldn’t resist stopping once more to glance back. As if he’d felt it, Levi stopped too, both leashes in one hand. Their eyes met across the distance. Levi smirked, winked—and vanished around the corner.
Eren stood there a moment, grinning like an idiot, before skipping ahead with Corporal trotting at his side. He couldn’t wait to tell Armin everything.