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Levi never rises to the bait when he’s teased for his height; in fact, his responses to the taunts are typically passive, clearly unimpressed. He makes it clear to everyone around him that his height doesn’t affect his ability to take control of any situation that’s thrown his way.
Erwin has never heard him respond to any jokes or jabs that aren’t his own. When he does call his partner tiny, they’re usually tangled and sweaty beneath their sheets—“so small and pretty, Levi”—or throwing terms of endearment at each other in the kitchen—“You are abnormally small for a grown man, captain.”…“Shut the fuck up, you overgrown idiot.”—and those times, Levi’s responses are affectionate, despite the annoyed scowl that usually graces his features.
The “big, blond moron” knows, however, that the subject of his partner’s height can be a bit of a sore spot. While Levi never retaliates to other grown adults’ teases, he broods on them when they’re lying together at night, talking about their long days and annoyances. “There’s this shitty brat,” he remembers the dark-haired male telling him in a whisper one night towards the beginning of their relationship. “He muttered something about me being a ‘midget-sized prick’ when I bumped into him on the subway this morning. Should’ve punched him while I had the chance.”
Levi’s dislike for his height is rarely mentioned any other time. Erwin doesn’t even utter a word when he walks in at the end of the day to find the other man perching on a step stool in order to reach the top shelves of the cabinets in their apartment. Levi has never mentioned his need for the step stool, instead plucking it from the living room closet when it’s needed and replacing it when it isn’t. When it is finally acknowledged by the smaller of the pair after seven years of living together, then, it comes as a bit of a surprise.
“Erwin,” Levi calls as he pokes his head into his partner’s office, where the blond is tapping at his keyboard, responding to an e-mail about one of his client’s list of never ending concerns about his case. “Where is it?”
Erwin only responds by glancing his way, his bold eyebrows lifting in question. An unsatisfied grunt leaves the raven-haired male, his piercing gaze narrowing. “Where is it?”
“Where is what, baby?” the blond questions in return, turning his chair to face the other. Levi is wearing a flour-dusted apron, having dedicated himself to cooking their meal once he insisted that Erwin finish his work early and give his full attention to him after dinner.
“The fucking step stool,” is the response he gets, drawing his brows back up in a look that tells that he has forgotten its necessity. The expression gains him a grumpy huff. “Do you know where it is?”
Erwin scratches his chin as he stands, following Levi out of the room and into the hallway. “I don’t think so. Did you leave it somewhere?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? The plumber that stopped by yesterday could have moved it.”
“I’m sure, Erwin,” Levi hissed as the blond checked the closet to ensure that it hadn’t been looked over. “I need it to get that baking pan that your shitty ass always puts on the top shelf.”
Levi grows quiet as Erwin closes the door, only to quickly move to the kitchen and retrieve the pain, earning another glare in the process. “We’ll find it,” he assures him as he places it on the countertop, leaning down to kiss his short lover. “It has to be around here somewhere.”
Erwin is sitting on the couch a few days later as potato soup warms on the stove, glasses perched low on his nose and book open on his lap. Levi slips in the door and unclips Titan’s—their dark, brindle pit bull—leash before humming at the smell coming from the pot on the burner. “Smells delicious,” he remarks quietly, gaining Erwin’s attention. “What’s cooking?”
“Potato soup,” Erwin replies as he stands, moving easily to the counter. He grins as he watches Levi lift the spoon to his mouth, silently evaluates the quality of his partner’s cooking. Admittedly, Erwin had been a terrible cook when they had first met; time—along with Levi’s persistent cooking lessons—has improved his ability.
“Needs a little bit more paprika,” the shorter character tells him, but Erwin isn’t offended. He nods.
“It’s in the cabinet. Add as much as you want.” He turns away then, his hand falling down to scratch behind Titan’s ear. He doesn’t catch Levi’s pointed glare to the too tall cabinet, but he does silently note, once they sit down for dinner, that there hasn’t been any more paprika added.
“Oi, giant,” Levi calls from the couch when the door clicks closed behind Erwin almost a month after the initial missing step stool incident. “Come here.”
Erwin chuckles, depositing his briefcase and his suit jacket on the table before he joins Levi, dropping down onto the cushion. His partner has his laptop perched on his slender thighs, but no more than a minute passes before he presses it closed, places it on the coffee table, and closes the space between them. He easily settles down across the blond’s thick thighs, slender arms wrapping around his neck. The elder of the pair grins, wrapping his strong arms around Levi’s waist.
“How was work?” Levi asks after he leans in to steal a kiss. Erwin returns it, a smile gracing his mouth.
“It was good. Nanaba asked if we would join she and Mike for dinner this weekend, but I told her that I would have to ask you first.”
“I’ll call her later,” he says with a nod, his grey hues peering into the other’s blue ones. “Something happened today.”
“Oh? Did you grow an inch?”
Levi snorts, thin fingers reaching to tug at golden, too neat locks, ruining Erwin’s impeccable appearance in favor of his much preferred, careless style. “No, but I found it—the stool.”
Erwin’s eyebrows raise at that, a small smirk curling his lips. “Where did you misplace it?”
“I didn’t,” is the growl he gets in return. Levi looks annoyed. “In fact, the woman down the hall—Krista—said that you had given it to her and she hadn’t caught either of us since. That was three weeks ago.”
Erwin suddenly doesn’t know how to respond. Levi is looking at him expectantly, that annoyed scowl still in place, but he still doesn’t know what to say. “I–”
“You know what that means, don’t you?” The dark-haired male leans in closer to Erwin, his lips brushing against his earlobe. His words are a whisper. “It means that you’re so old that you can’t remember something that happened less than a month ago.”
When Levi pulls back, he still looks grumpy, but the kiss he gives him after a moment passes tells Erwin that he isn’t. In fact, it tells Erwin that his partner thinks the whole situation is amusing. Somewhere from the floor, Titan huffs at his parents’ gross affection.