Chapter Text
It starts like this, the rise leading to the fall, act one's curtain call sweeping velvet across the stage of Levi's eyelids. The phosphenes glow frantic and effervescent beneath his fingertips as he rubs at his eyes to wash away the last sticky remembrances of his dreams, one hand fumbling over the broad span of Erwin's shoulders, still slack and loose with slumber and yielding beneath his fingertips. The plastic and metal frame of his glasses is cool beneath the touch, the weight of the ground lenses calmingly substantial in his hands as he lifts them to his face and brings the world swimming into cool clarity again.
Erwin's jaw is dotted with fine pinpricks of coarse blond stubble smoothing their way over the planes of his jawbone with creeping fingers, but he presses a kiss to the corner of Erwin's mouth anyway. Habit. Tradition. Ritual, even if it itches at the bow of his lips and he has to run his fingertips across them, cool, chapped, to take away the tickle.
The shadows of Erwin's lashes flutter like swallows over his cheekbones in the early morning light. The digital clock on the nightstand reads a firm 6:14 A.M. in glaring, almost accusatory crimson, sixteen minutes away from its shrill scream. Levi savors the knowledge of his free time, the soft cooing sounds of doves outside the only thing to punctuate the silence. The morning paints Erwin's face in rose and gold, silent fingers casting him angelic, and Levi's breath catches in his throat.
Appreciation, aching almost in its longevity.
The clock ticks around to 6:17 A.M., digits flipping over into each other, and Levi studies the way Erwin sleeps with abandon, limbs flung haphazard to cast silhouettes and mountains and valleys across the mattress and bedsheets, silky blue cotton beneath Levi's hands. Blonde hair musses messy across his husband's forehead, flaxen gold starting to thread through with silver, and Levi's fingers itch to reach out and smooth it back. But no. Thirteen more minutes, he promises himself. Just thirteen more.
Erwin's left hand rests against his stomach, fingers twitching slightly, curling around something in his dreams, and Levi smiles fondly at the way the titanium loop gleams silver against his husband's ring finger. A promise, a vow, a fulfillment years in the making.
Ten more minutes.
He curls his legs up beneath him, hugging his knees to his chest in the soft winter chill, absentmindedly tracing the tails of one of Erwin's old night shirts where they flutter pastel green against his thigh. The shirt has holes in it, and Erwin loves it fondly, loves wearing it and loves Levi wearing it even more, eyes tracing hungry over how it drapes across Levi's shoulders, the promise of the night hidden away in milky panels that peek out at the collar, the right sleeve, the swell of his left hip. The cotton is soft, several loads of laundry past, signs of well-loved clothing, and even though Erwin has loads of other nightshirts folded away in drawers in his closet, Levi picks this one out of the laundry basket over everything else, every time.
Seven more minutes.
His heart swells again. Paces itself just a bit quicker as Erwin mumbles something in his dreams, eyes flicking from side to side under the soft velvet of his eyelids. A grin darts, quicksilver flash, left corner to right, and Levi knows that Erwin is dreaming about him.
"Levi." It is barely a whisper, barely a murmur, but Levi hears it anyway, has come to expect it as a confirmation, a benediction, a blessing.
Four minutes.
Levi counts down the seconds.
Erwin swallows back a noise, and Levi's eyes flick back up to his face, traces the swell of his Adam's apple, the rise and fall.
Beauty and grace.
Two minutes.
The sun breaks over the horizon now, struggling fully into the sky, painting the underbellies of the clouds pastel like the most marvelous painter. Levi grins as the warmth kisses against his bare legs and turns the cream of his skin into palest honey.
One minute.
Levi pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. The frame is new, keeps slipping, and he's still getting used to the weight of them aching against his ears.
The alarm shrills, screams, breaking the peace, and Levi hastens to turn it off even as Erwin flings himself out of the depths of his dream with a startled "Mmph." He props himself up on his elbows, looking at Levi blearily, eyebrows furrowed and ruffled, and Levi would laugh if Erwin hadn't looked so disgruntled.
"Morning," Levi murmurs, teasingly, eyes crinkling at the corners. Erwin's face blurs, flickers with dark lines across his smile as Levi's eyelashes flutter over his vision. "Slept well?"
"Was in the middle of a fantastic dream. You were wearing stockings." Erwin's gaze is pointed, trailing up the lines of Levi's bare legs, and Levi laughs it away with vague promises of maybes and laters that he only has half an intention to keep. Good dreams are difficult to come by, and slip out of the sieve of your fingers like water, and he half hopes Erwin will have forgotten by the time he comes home.
Kisses, bitter with the taste of lingering dreams, and Levi is pushing Erwin out of bed, with a reminder that he absolutely must go to work today, he has that important board meeting, remember? Erwin grumbles and says that of course he does, and Levi only admires the strong curve of Erwin's back for five seconds as his husband pads into the bathroom.
A whimper from down the hall sends Levi flying into his closet to fling himself into a loose pair of sweats, hurrying into Eren's bedroom, a study in blues and greens and trains, where the five-year-old is already struggling awake, wriggling himself out of the nest of blankets his tossing limbs have built for himself over the night.
Eren looks at him, turquoise eyes enchanting, catching and holding the early morning sunlight.
"Papa."
"Eren."
Eren curls his hands into his fists, rubbing at his eyes as he yawns, pink, red, crimson rosebud mouth opening wide in a gush of air.
"Your first day of kindergarten. Are you excited?" Levi asks, smiling as he crouches down to rummage through the mahogany dresser against the wall, pulling out impossibly tiny shirts and pants and socks for impossibly tiny limbs.
"Nooooo," Eren replies, flopping back down into bed with a huff. Levi can hear the springs squeak even from here, and he has to wipe the smile from his face as he turns back to his son. "Don't wanna go."
"You've got to, remember?" Levi extricates a reluctant Eren out of the tangle of blankets with the promises of cheese scrambled eggs. "You promised Papa you would." He helps Eren into his shirt and pants, the boy's fingers digging into his shoulder as he balances on one foot to let Levi tug one chubby leg into place. "And I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends."
He herds Eren to the bathroom, onto his train-themed stepstool, only manages to wince twice as Eren brushes his teeth with vigor, splattering toothpaste foam all over the mirror. It swirls, mint green and cream, down the drain with a hiss, as Levi turns on the tap and wets the bristles of a comb to drag it through Eren's unruly hair.
Erwin is already downstairs, 7:03 A.M., by the time Levi finally convinces Eren that it is far better for him to leave his toy train set at home. Strong coffee, dark roast dripping into a mug set beneath the Keurig's drip, and Levi inhales deeply, appreciation, as he sits Eren down at the table and opens the fridge for the eggs. erwin leans against the granite counter, sipping at a cup of coffee already, impeccable in shades of grey and slate that bring out his eyes, and Levi almost considers asking him to stay home. Almost, because the shirt draws tight across Erwin's shoulders; almost, because the knot of Erwin's silk tie looks luscious against his skin; almost, because he knows that he shouldn't, and so he holds his tongue.
"Plans for today, Lee?" Erwin asks, setting his mug in the sink and turning on the tap to let it soak. The water gushes smooth and crystal into the porcelain.
Levi shrugs as he cracks one egg, two, into a bowl, clear white and yellow yolk gleaming golden in the early morning sunlight. He punctures it with a fork, letting the colors leach together before whipping it together into a slurry.
A pat of butter sizzles in the pan, golden bubbles, as he contemplates the hours ahead.
"I don't know," he admits, softly. It will be the first day he has to himself in a long time, without Eren underfoot, without the pitter patter of tiny feet on the staircase, without the clanging of trains together on the coffee table, without the horrendous silence in the middle of playtime that indicates that something is probably broken. "I'll probably get around to reviewing that self-help book I've been meaning to read for a while."
He slides the eggs, fluffy and yellow, onto a plate, and flicks the stove off. He stands on tiptoe for the salt and pepper, and while he is still squinting into the shadows of the cabinet to find the shakers, Erwin wraps an arm around him. Kisses to his neck.
"Well, don't get too lonely." Erwin's voice wriggles its way into his ear, shivering up his spine. A promise.
Levi is about to reply, when Eren taps against the table, impatient. "Papa, eggggs."
The curve of Erwin's smile against the shell of his ear is infuriating as Erwin reaches up to pluck the salt from the farther recesses of the cabinet and sets it down next to Levi's hand, laughing at the flush that trickles its way across the planes of Levi's face.
It begins like this, with Eren waving an excited goodbye at him from the backseat of Erwin's Toyota. It begins like this, catching the kiss Erwin blows through the windshield against his cheek. It begins like this, when Levi takes off his glasses to massage his aching ears, and puts them on to realize that the blurriness is still there.