Chapter Text
Levi is staring at a man. The man’s eyes are comically wide and his lips parted in shock. His clothing clings tightly to his slim frame, a bright green tunic with red and white striped sleeves and leggings. Around his waist is a thick black belt with a big brass buckle. On his head is a tiny cone hat with a matching miniature belt and buckle, plus a golden bell at the peak. He looks like a fucking Christmas jester.
Levi squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath, and opens them again. His reflection stares back, in the same stupid outfit. Levi tears the tiny hat from his head and throws it at the mirror. It jingles weakly as it lands on the bathroom counter next to a box, which is wrapped in sparkling paper. The cover is ajar and topped with a perfect bow. He wants so badly to throw that box in the toilet, or to hurl it directly at the center of Four Eyes’ four eyes, but he can’t afford to damage it…yet.
Levi picks up the box with begrudging gentleness, closing the lid and gripping it in his hand to ground himself and secure its contents before stepping out of the bathroom.
It looks different than usual, but he’s familiar with every inch of this apartment. He moves on autopilot down the hall. To his right is the entrance to the kitchen that he scrubs clean when he needs to blow off some steam. Erwin is at the kitchen island, cleaning up his prep space while cookies bake in the oven, which is actually a familiar sight. As is his “Kiss the Cook'' apron.
Erwin spies Levi lingering in the hallway and his lips quirk up into that smile he only wears when he’s sharing some sort of inside joke with his boyfriend. Erwin’s eyes roam appreciatively over Levi’s face, then slowly down his body. Levi looks away - he’s on a mission. However, his eyes are averted upward, where he sees the mistletoe that someone (probably Erwin) stuck above the doorway.
Erwin moves in his peripheral vision, clearly intending to meet Levi under the mistletoe. Levi forces himself to remember that Erwin’s insistence on specific party activities is the reason he’s wearing this shit in the first place. “You can wait until after the party,” Levi commands, with more regret in his voice than he intended to reveal.
Then he hurries down the hall before his boyfriend does anything more to weaken his suddenly tremulous resolve. In the entryway to their apartment - a safe distance away - he sees Nanaba and Mike in the process of putting up decorations.
Nanaba is hanging a laurel wreath, which she crafted herself, on the front door while Mike is blowing up red balloons, which have Hanji’s face printed on them. They must have been a custom order, Levi supposes as he watches Hanji’s plastic face distend with each exhale, and he finds his genuine irritation returning.
A week ago, the six of them had come together to celebrate the news that Erwin’s dissertation would be published in the next edition of a well-known academic journal. It was about how the Romans adapted traditional polytheistic festivals to enforce monotheistic ideals when Christianity became the official religion of the empire.
Erwin had wanted a big celebration this holiday season to commemorate the end of his 4-year graduate program in the classical studies department, as well as his acceptance as a faculty member at another local university. When everyone had reached a tipsy, near-food-coma state, Erwin had suggested that they have a Saturnalia party.
Erwin explained that these festivals were always of some religious significance, but for the average person they were basically an excuse to get drunk and eat and fuck. Being people who enjoy alcohol, food, and fucking, the group agreed to do it.
Then he told them about the king of Saturnalia. Every December, the Romans drew lots to determine who would be Saturnalicius princeps for that year; that person got to be the master of ceremonies. The king was in charge of deciding what they would do during the festival and could command anyone to do it. Being people who love a friendly competition and/or have a lot of ideas about how to humiliate their friends with that kind of power, the group agreed to do it.
Erwin had produced paper and writing utensils to make their lots, and a sparkling present box to deposit them into. Some took a bit longer than others, as they were in various states of inebriation, but they got all their papers in the box. Erwin closed his eyes and drew one lot from the box, paused a moment for dramatic effect, then announced the name of their Saturnalicius princeps: Hanji.
Levi recalls the excited shriek they had let out a week ago, ringing through his ears in the present as he trudges into the next room. It’s a cozy space partially obscured by a towering Christmas tree in the corner - Hanji had insisted on the biggest tree that would fit in Erwin’s apartment. Soft crackles come from the brick fireplace, which illuminates the dinner feast they have assembled on a long dining table. Levi’s stomach grumbles and he decides to blame that on Hanji as well.
Levi’s favorite piece of furniture, a plush blue chaise lounge, has been moved out of its place in the living room and is currently parallel to the big window with a view of the front yard. There’s a thick layer of fresh snow outside, glistening as it reflects the dim sunlight. Moblit is outside, dressed warmly in a fluffy green coat and scarf and sculpting a tall snowman with what appears to be a variety of kitchen utensils.
Levi approaches the window and stops when he reaches the chaise, looming over (as much as his height allows) the back of it to reveal Hanji Zoe, his best friend and frequent source of aggravation. Hanji is sprawled across the chaise, dressed in a red velvet cape and golden crown, posing for Moblit as he carves their likeness in snow on the other side of the window.
Levi aims to make his voice sound light and casual, but it comes out closer to a rumble. “Hanji.”
They don’t even spare him a glance. They’re used to Levi sounding pissed off - it’s expected, even.
Levi grits his teeth and tries again, practically growling. “Your Highness”.
Hanji acknowledges him with what they must consider a regal hand gesture and a patronizing, “Minion.”
Levi is staring a hole into the back of their head and planning their demise when they say, “Didn’t the Greeks put boners on all of their festival decorations? I think that’s what we're missing.”
Saturnalia is Roman, not Greek, Levi complains internally as Hanji continues. “Take this message to the royal sculptor: the king desires an erect phallus be added to their tribute.”
Hanji still hasn’t spared him a glance. After a moment, Levi turns on his heel and stomps back to the entryway. He wishes destruction upon the balloons as he shrugs on his coat and gloves, shoving the box into his coat and opening the door to a gust of wind that pushes some snow inside the doorway. Levi is mindful of Nanaba’s art as he shuts the door; not enough force to dislodge the wreath, but enough to make the bells hanging from the handle jingle angrily.
Levi stomps through the snow toward Moblit, fuming, but stops after several feet. He hadn’t paid much attention earlier but now he’s hit by the full picture. The snowman - no, snow sculpture - is like something he’d seen in one of Erwin’s books about classical art. Levi steps closer to inspect all the details, circling it with no small amount of awe.
Moblit sets a smoothing spatula to the side, next to several other tools, after he finishes molding a cheek. He backs up to stand by Levi admiring his work. “Saturn Devouring One of His Children, by Simon Hurtrelle,” Moblit explains, “or at least that’s what I was going for.”
Levi scoffs. “Mob, cut the shit. This is incredible.”
Moblit chuckles somewhat self-consciously. “The original has wings, but I managed to talk Hanji out of it. I don’t know if the structural integrity of this snow can handle that.” He grins slyly. “Also, carving feathers is a real bitch.” Levi almost laughs at that.
“Obviously there are a few other differences, as requested by Their Majesty. Instead of devouring children, they’re just getting drunk.” Moblit points to a bright pink crazy straw inside a comically large wine glass. “That was my Christmas gift to them a few years ago.” Levi steps closer. The glass has “PARTY” written in glitter paint with big letters. And the pink straw isn’t just loop-de-loops - it reads “pussy” in cursive.
“Are you responsible for those balloons as well?” Levi wonders out loud.
Moblit smiles again. “I know my way around a craft store.” Then he notices the box peeking out of Levi’s jacket. “Did the king request another adjustment?”
“Yeah, they want you to add a big dick,” Levi responds. Moblit sighs and holds his hand out to Levi. It takes Levi a moment to realize that Moblit is looking at the box. He pulls it out of his coat, remembering his goal. “No, not this. This is for Hanji.” Levi considers his options. “I have a better idea anyway.”
Levi walks to the window, where he can see Hanji chatting with Nanaba, sipping on mugs of hot chocolate. Nanaba suddenly perks up and heads into the other room - the oven alarm must have gone off for Erwin’s cookies.
Levi waits for Hanji to face the window again, wiping snow roughly off the windowsill. When he has their attention, he places the box, which is prettily reflecting the snow, purposefully in front of them. Hanji’s eyes fall to the box, separated from them by the closed window, and their smile drops. Hanji looks back up at Levi, nervous, and then Moblit beyond him, almost pleading.
Levi walks back to Moblit and picks up a knife sharpener, gesturing toward the snow sculpture. “Where is the sturdiest part of this?”
Moblit eyes the knife sharpener, then points just below the sculpted stomach to the unfinished snow mound that’s supporting the sculpture.
Levi looks back to the window, where Hanji is stuck staring. He looks them in the eye as he stabs the metal rod into that spot; not enough force to compromise the structure, but enough to make Hanji wince.
Levi backs up and considers the new addition. “I think it’s perfect, don’t you?”
Moblit shrugs. “Good enough to get out of the cold.” He asks Levi to take a picture of sculpture and creator together, they gather their things, and then they head inside.
“What’s the deal with the box?” Moblit asks when they meet Hanji, still on the chaise and staring out the window at their tribute. He takes the mug of cocoa from their hands and finishes it off.
“Hah…well…” Hanji starts.
Levi opens the box and hands it to Moblit. “This was the box we drew lots from last week. Do you see your name anywhere in there?”
Moblit sifts through the strips of paper. “I only see ‘Hanji’.” He leans back and considers his partner. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Levi nods. “What do you think the punishment should be for rigging a lot-drawing?”
“Wait, Levi,” Hanji says quickly, hurrying like they can somehow talk their way out of being caught cheating. “Think about it. The king can tell people to do anything they want. What do you want? I can make that happen. Just don’t tell the others.”
Hanji is met with unimpressed silence. “Okay, okay, how about this then? Let’s have Erwin wear the Santa’s little helper outfit.”
Levi imagines it. “I like it, but if you think Erwin’s going to fit in this shit I’m wearing now…”
“I had Moblit get costumes for all four of you. There’s also sexy maid Santa.”
Levi imagines Erwin in that outfit, nodding, then shakes his head. “Wait, you’re telling me you got a costume for everyone? Why the fuck am I the only one wearing one??”
“It was Erwin’s idea,” Hanji blurts out. “He caught me cheating before we even drew lots. I told him almost exactly what I said a minute ago to you. He told me he wouldn’t say anything if he was able to make some demands of his own, and kept the box as blackmail. He saw the costumes and decided he wanted only you, wearing the Christmas elf outfit.”
Levi imagines Erwin doing that. It’s aggravatingly possible, if not probable, considering the way he had been leering at Levi earlier. Levi scowls.
“Also, not everyone has a costume,” Moblit adds calmly.
“Why don’t you have a humiliating outfit?” Levi asks.
Moblit smirks and puts his arm around Hanji’s shoulders. “Perks of dating the king.”
Hanji tries to save their ass again. “Besides, he has plenty of other humiliating outfits at our place-”
“Okay, I don’t need more information,” Levi interjects. “I’m going to take this shit off. Tell Erwin to put on the sexy Santa maid one. You’re on thin fucking ice, Zoe.”