Chapter Text
Erwin was always at his stillest before races. The Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies race was set to start in ten minutes, and Erwin sat poised and stoic in the owners box, not taking his eyes off his filly. Beyond The Sea was out there, draped in her signature forest green silks and waiting to be loaded into the gate, and despite Erwin’s collected appearance, his insides were tight with anxiety. He had sunk a lot of money into this horse. His trainer, Hange Zoe, had told him that they thought this filly had it in her to take him to Kentucky in May for the famed Kentucky Oaks, the Kentucky Derby of fillies. With a total purse of one and a half million dollars, Erwin had his gaze locked on it.
Erwin was the owner of two young horses this year. Beyond The Sea was by far the most promising, and she had been dominating her two year old year. The Breeders Cup would be her last race as a two year old, and he knew the three year old races would be a lot tougher, but he had confidence that Beyond The Sea could rise to the occasion. He wanted a Triple Crown horse, and he believed Beyond The Sea could take him there.
In addition to Beyond The Sea, he had also purchased a horse named Scout at auction last year. Hange had pointed him out because of his long legs and smart build, but as he progressed throughout his two year old year, he had grown up to be more gangly and awkward than anything else. He had shown promising bursts of speed under his jockey Petra Ral, and he usually ended up in the top three, but the horse was yet to win a single race. He would be competing in the Breeders Cup Juvenile later today, the qualifying race for the Kentucky Derby, but in order to gain enough points to secure himself a spot, he needed to finish first, something he had never done before.
Erwin exhaled, glancing down at his Rolex, then back up at the track. Beyond The Sea had drawn slot number one in the starting gate for this race, meaning she loaded first, and was pressed right up against the rail. Many horses got flustered in the number one slot. Loading up first meant they had to stand in the claustrophobic starting gate for the longest amount of time, their anxiety building and their focus diminishing. Erwin supposed he could relate to his horse in this way.
It felt like an eternity from the time Beyond The Sea loaded up in the gate to the last horse, but Erwin knew that once the gates closed on that last filly, the race would begin momentarily. Erwin could see Beyond The Sea tossing her head impatiently in the chute, and Petra stroking her neck. She was probably giving the horse a solid pep talk right now. She was always talking to the horses, even as they thundered down the rail. Erwin wondered if it helped the filly go faster.
There was that brief moment of stillness before the race, and then, “And they’re off!”
Erwin was never not excited and thrilled by the familiar cry, and he couldn’t help but stand up for a better look as the horses broke from the gate. Many horse owners and betters shouted encouragement or simply words of excitement as the horses began the most important two minutes of their lives, but Erwin was typically on the stoic side.
Typically.
“What?! No!” He cried as the crowd caught its breath. The number two horse had left the gate crooked, immediately striking Beyond The Sea and throwing her against the rail. The filly faltered badly, and Petra was violently unseated, her body tossed over the rail and landing hard on the turf on the other side. Somehow, Beyond The Sea managed to remain on her feet, but her race was over before it began. Riderless, she blindly followed the pack, reins dangling, stirrups flapping, while Petra remained motionless on the ground.
“No!” Erwin cried again. What else could he do, powerless up here in the owners box? He saw the ambulance pull up to retrieve Petra, the outriders descend upon Beyond The Sea until they were able to get her back under control, and all he could do was sit there and pray that both his horse and jockey were uninjured. His million dollar investment and the jockey that had taken him this far, they couldn’t be taken away in an instant like this!
He paid no attention to the rest of the race. He had to find Hange. He shoved his way out of the owners box, paying no attention to the people he was shoving, all he cared about was finding out if his horse and rider were okay. The heavy crowd at the Breeders Cup was an obstacle, but Erwin was a big, strong man who didn’t give a shit about anyone else right now, and he parted the crowd like Moses parted the waters. He was rich, he was important, and he was in a perilous situation right now, they could all get out of his way.
“Hange!” He boomed when he saw them on the rail. They turned their head and looked just as horrified as he was. “What the hell was that?!” Erwin demanded.
“It wasn’t her fault, you saw the way that number two slammed her! God, they better not be hurt. I gotta go back to the barn, I gotta see what the situation is.” Hange said anxiously, the stress and frustration steaming off of them. They turned to leave, but Erwin grabbed their sleeve.
“Who’s gonna ride Scout?” He asked seriously. Petra had been taken away in an ambulance, she was clearly out of the running.
Hange faltered, they hadn’t been thinking that far ahead yet. “I - I’ll have to find someone. I’ll call you and let you know, okay? I gotta get back to the barn now, I gotta find out if your horse is hurt.”
Erwin was reluctant to let go of their sleeve.
“I’ll call you, just go get a drink or something. I’ll call you.” Hange repeated, pulling free and pulling away from the big man. Erwin was left standing alone in a crowd of people, and he felt hopeless and lost as he watched Hange disappear.
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Defeated, Erwin limped back to the owner's box to lick his wounds. He would get a drink later. And a cigarette, probably, too. He was supposed to be trying to quit, but not right now. Today was a cheat day. Race day was always cheat day.
He watched the ceremonies unfold in the winners circle with bitterness as the horse who had won the Juvenile Fillies was received. He saw Zeke Jeager, the owner of the horse, descend from the owners box to the winners circle, posing with Theo Magath, his trainer, and Annie Leonhart, the jockey, for a photograph, holding the trophy up as though he had lifted a finger to make it happen. Zeke owned half the racetrack it seemed, and he was always in the spotlight. A former professional baseball player, he had retired and taken up horse racing as a way to pass his time and burn his fortune. Erwin had never liked him.
Erwin’s fortune had come from inheriting his dad’s textbook company, coupled with some smart investments in the stock market, but it was a fraction of what Zeke was playing with. Erwin only owned two horses. Two horses valued in the millions, but compared to Zeke, it was nothing. Zeke had a horse in every race. His star colt, Marley, would be competing against Scout in the Breeders Cup Juvenile, and at much better odds, too. Well, that is, if Scout could find a rider in time.
Erwin decided to take Hange’s advice and found himself a seat at the bar. He would drink his sorrows away until he got the call telling him how his horse and rider were doing. He flagged down the bartender, the aptly named Colt Grice, who knew him all too well and knew all his favorite drinks for different occasions. He knew well enough not to offer champagne based off of Erwin’s glum expression.
“Afternoon, Mister Smith. Bourbon today?” He asked politely.
“Better make it a double, that was my jockey that just fell off,” Erwin grumbled.
“Ouch, that’s unfortunate. This one’s on me, how about that?” The blonde man offered.
“I appreciate it, Colt,” Erwin accepted, but decided to push a little anyways. “You got a cigarette?”
“Only if you smoke it outside.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Colt, aware he was being taken advantage of but not willing to fight about it, sent Erwin away with his free drink and cigarette, and Erwin lit up before stepping fully out the door.
He had finished his cigarette and was about three quarters of the way through his drink when Hange finally called, and the phone didn’t even complete a full ring before Erwin answered it.
“Yeah? What’s the situation?” He asked, foregoing the typical hello.
“Well, it’s a situation, for sure,” Hange answered him. “The bad news is that Petra is in the hospital, she broke her wrist and got a concussion. Should take about six weeks to heal, so it will be a while before she can race again.”
Erwin rolled his eyes. Jockeys were easily replaceable, just not on short notice like this. Couldn’t Petra have picked a better day to fall off? He was only half listening.
“Yeah? And how about my horse?” He asked.
“Beyond The Sea pulled a tendon, and she’ll definitely be scared of the gate for a while. We’re looking at thirty, maybe sixty days of stall rest. The vet wants to do more imaging, but I hate to tell you, Erwin, I think our Oaks dreams die here. Even if she gets better, the risk of reinjury is too high for that caliber of competition.”
Erwin didn’t reply right away. Beyond The Sea was a career-making horse. She was a once in a generation kind of filly, and she was going to win him the Oaks, Erwin had been sure of it. Well, not any more, thanks to a stupid misstep from a stupid other horse that he didn’t even know the name of. His knuckles turned white around his glass. He was pissed. He was royally pissed.
“That all sounded like bad news. What about the good news?” He spat bitterly, not confident that there was any.
“The good news is that I found a jockey for Scout! Have you ever heard of a rider named Levi Ackerman?”
Erwin actually had to pause for a second to think about that. The name Ackerman did ring a bell, but he didn’t think he knew of a Levi with that name. “Wasn’t there that big trainer Ackerman who was in some scandal or something? That was like twenty years ago, though. This Levi have any relation?”
Erwin could practically hear Hange’s shrug over the phone. “I don’t know man, I found him in the jockey’s room, said he didn’t have a horse for the Juveniles, so I said ‘you do now.’ That’s the extent of my knowledge. But I told him about Scout and I figure it’s better than having to scratch.”
Sometimes Erwin appreciated Hange’s tone-deaf honesty, but sometimes there were things he wished they just wouldn’t tell him. His trainer was teaming his horse up with some random guy they found in the jockey room? Oh well, he supposed they were right that it was better than nothing. “You better not be making a mistake with this guy,” was all he said, and he hung up.
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The Juveniles was the last race of the day, and Erwin had time to kill before he could see how this new guy would ride his horse. He got three more drinks from Colt (the bartender insisted he actually pay for these ones,) and bought a pack of cigarettes, which he was making embarrassingly steady work of. He wasn’t typically a pack-a-day kind of guy, but there was nothing else to do here other than smoke and smoke and smoke.
He wagered on several other races and promptly lost, which caused him to tear up his ticket and throw it down angrily. He considered selling off Scout and Beyond The Sea and quitting horses entirely, but with her injury, he didn’t expect much interest in Beyond The Sea right now, and he was bound to lose money on Scout because the horse had yet to win a single race! He considered firing Hange and finding a new trainer that was less of a nutjob, but he would be lying if he said he found Hange’s direction anything less than exemplary, he was just upset right now. What happened to Beyond The Sea had been nobody’s fault. He just hoped this Levi guy would pull through.
At long last, it came time for the Juvenile's race, and Erwin watched with bated breath as the horses emerged from the paddock. He recognized the jockey's silks belonging to each of his fellow (rival) owners, including the yellow and red checkered pattern that signified a horse owned by Zeke Jeager. Finally, he saw his own solid green silks on a man who, at this distance, with his helmet and goggles on, was completely indistinguishable from any other jockey save for the colors he wore. Don’t fuck me up, Ackerman, Erwin thought to himself as he watched the man get a leg up and seat himself on the horse.
The dark green looked nice on Scout, who was an all black colt with more leg than he knew what to do with. He should be a capable runner, but he was just so gangly. Erwin had been praying that the horse was just a late bloomer. Maybe here, today, at the end of his two year old year and with a new jockey on his back, he would finally figure out how to use himself.
When he heard the familiar call to the post, he found his way back to the owner's box and watched the horses get loaded in the gate. Scout had drawn number six, which was solidly in the middle of the pack. It was an ideal position for him. The ebony colt was uneasy as he waited his turn, and Erwin watched Levi sit a couple of impressive leaps and rears as the horse got out all of his nervousness.
He better not be wasting all his energy on this bullshit and be too tired to run, Erwin thought bitterly. He was aware of the fact that he didn’t have half the horse sense that Hange or Levi did, but it was clear as day the horse was agitated, and they didn’t run as well like that. Erwin lit up another cigarette as he watched his high strung colt finally get loaded in the starting gate and square up his feet.
You better run, horse.
The last few horses loaded without incident, and once the back gate had been closed on the last horse, the electricity hung heavily in the air. Those gates would open any second now, and Erwin had a lot of money riding on this race. Not in wagers, but in capitol. If his horse couldn’t perform today, he was screwed.
The sound of the buzzer and the way the gates slammed open actually startled Erwin for a brief moment. He knew it was coming, but his attention was so heightened on the track below, that the sudden movement gave him a jolt.
“And they’re off!” Rang the familiar cry, and Erwin leaned forward in his seat, laser focusing on his little black colt with the mysterious rider. Hange had explained to Erwin that Scout typically had a hard time hitting his stride out of the gate, and while the other horses found their pace easily and surged ahead, Scout often started at the back of the pack while he fumbled with his legs. Sure enough, his first couple strides were awkward and he was quickly shoved to the back by other, more graceful horses, but Erwin had come to expect this from him. He knew that horse could surge at any time, he just prayed Levi would let him run.
Zeke Jeager’s horse, Marley, had taken an early lead and was looking like he was going to hold it. As the horses thundered into the first turn, Erwin noticed Levi sitting back on the horse, holding him back while all the other jockeys leaned forward in their stirrups, urging their horses to rise to the occasion.
What are you doing?! Erwin thought hopelessly as his horse faded and faded. Erwin knew it was a long shot for Scout to win this race, but he was looking like he would end up dead last if this continued!
“Come on, Levi! Let him run! What the hell are you doing?!” He couldn’t help but shout, knowing his jockey was too far away to hear him. This was the last time he would let Hange find some random rider in the jockey’s room to ride his horse, what the hell was this?!
The horse thundered onto the back stretch and Erwin let out a defeated (and rather pathetic) cry, flopping back in his seat and simply refusing to look at the track anymore. He was just done for. His horse racing dreams were done for. He didn’t even want to listen to the rest of the crowd's excited cries as they cheered on their favorites, wasn't even interested in the announcer calling the race anymore. It was just over, and he couldn’t stand to watch Zeke Jeager win another race today.
“But what’s this?” Erwin was vaguely aware of the announcer saying, as though some big shock was taking place on the track. “It looks as if Levi Ackerman has finally decided to let his horse run! Scout is surging forward like a tremendous machine! He surpasses Gold Bag, he surpasses Shallot, he’s gunning for the lead! It’s Scout all the way! Marley leads by two lengths, but Scout is quickly closing in behind him, will he catch up before the wire?!”
Erwin jerked his head up, and sure enough, there was Scout at the heels of Marley. Spending so much time at the back of the pack had him pelted with so much dirt that his black coat looked brown, but he looked stronger than ever while Marley was flagging. The white faced chestnut colt owned by Zeke was getting tired from maintaining the brutal pace for so long, while Scout, with his long, gangly legs that took forever to find their stride, had finally figured himself out and was eating up the ground at a tremendous rate.
“It’s all Annie Leonhart can do to keep the lead away from Scout as these horses head for home! Can she do it, or will it be Levi Ackerman and Scout? Neck and neck down to the wire, it’s Marley and Scout! It’s Marley and Scout for a photo finish in the Breeders Cup Juveniles!”
Erwin couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was a photo finish between Marley and Scout. Between himself and Zeke Jeager. He simply stood with his mouth open, frozen while the officials looked back at the pictures, determined the winner. He and Zeke actually met eyes for a brief, tense moment across the owners box before it was finally announced.
“And it’s Scout! He wins it by the tip of his nostril! In his first career win ever, Scout and Levi Ackerman have won the Breeders Cup Juvenile!”
The crowd erupted in excitement, and Erwin watched Zeke rip his gaze away bitterly and stomp on his wagering ticket. He couldn’t help but let out a smug little snort at the image before heading down to the winners circle, receiving pats on the back and words of congratulations all the way down. He would never doubt Hange again, nor Levi, because Erwin wanted to make him a permanent fixture of the team after what he had just done.
Scout was being draped in the traditional purple and yellow garland by the time Erwin arrived in the winners circle, and he finally got his first real good look at Levi, who had removed his helmet, and appeared as though he was being forced to pose for a picture. His black hair was messy from the race, and his cheeks were pink from the exertion, but he had a handsome and refined face with surprisingly delicate features. Erwin almost thought of him as being “pretty,” but decided he had to bury that thought far away for now.
Levi was spattered in dirt, much like his horse, and he looked rather uncomfortable with all the fanfare. As soon as he dismounted, Erwin watched him get swarmed by reporters.
“Mister Ackerman, how does it feel to win your first Breeders Cup?”
“Mister Ackerman, do you feel like you’re following in your uncle’s footsteps with this success?”
“Mister Ackerman, what is your strategy with this horse?”
Yes, Levi definitely seemed uncomfortable with all the attention, and even seemed to wince at the mention of his uncle. Erwin made a mental note to look into that later. He only answered the last question.
“Well, he’s kind of goofy around the gate, so I just held him back and didn’t worry about it so that I could really send him down the back stretch. I’m just glad he was able to rise to the occasion.” He answered in more of a mumble, and then turned away, but Erwin caught him before he could totally slip away.
“Levi!” Erwin greeted him, and the shorter man looked up, almost startled. Erwin stuck out his hand. “I’m Erwin Smith, I own this horse.”
Levi did not remove his riding glove to shake Erwin’s hand. “He’s a good horse,” was all he said in reply.
Kind of an oddball, Erwin noted, but if this oddball could ride Scout like this every time, Erwin would be happy to accept it. He needed to get to know this Levi better, take him out to dinner to celebrate his success, and formally ask him to ride Scout in the Derby in a few months.
“He’s a great horse when you’re riding him! Listen, I-” Erwin began, but Hange crashed his invite by surging up and wrapping the two men in a surprise hug.
“Ooh, you guys, our horse is so cool!” They squealed, always getting overly-excited whenever they won a race. Erwin was used to Hange’s eccentric nature, but Levi clearly wasn’t, because his face was analogous to someone who had just gotten their foot tickled while swimming in the ocean. The whites of his eyes grew huge.
“Look, here’s the trophy, let’s all hold it together!” Hange invited, being passed the infamous Breeders Cup trophy and encouraging Levi and Erwin to put a hand on it. They all posed for another picture, but Erwin could feel Levi shrinking away.
“Alright, I gotta get this dirt off me,” Levi muttered, and he slipped away from the crowd.
Erwin just stood there, watching him disappear, before he realized he never got the chance to invite Levi to dinner tonight, and he didn’t know the next time he would get to see him. The man clearly had a knack for being elusive, but he had just won the Breeders Cup for Erwin at long odds, and they needed to celebrate. Erwin had to know more about this mysterious rider. Feeling tugged by an invisible thread, Erwin suddenly found himself turning to follow the shorter man, hollering, “Levi! Wait up!” but Levi did not.
Shoving blindly through the crowd for the second time that day, Erwin kept his gaze fixed on those green silks that seemed to only be getting further and further away. A tiny man like Levi was able to duck through the throng of people much more gracefully and quickly than a hunk like Erwin, and if not for his distinctive outfit Erwin surely would have lost him.
He saw Levi duck away into the jockey’s room, his helmet under his arm, and moved to follow, but was stopped by a man at the door.
“Sir, you can’t go in there,” the attendant said, but Erwin was a rich, important man who was not used to being told no.
“I’m an owner!” He snapped, as though that gave him any right to barge into this private space, but the attendant didn’t use physical force, so Erwin pushed in.
“Levi!” He exclaimed as he burst through the door. Due to the festivities at the winners circle, all the other jockeys had finished changing and were long gone by the time Levi got a chance to make it back, so Erwin found him alone, green silks on a hanger beside him, with his undershirt halfway over his head. They just blinked at each other for a moment before Levi finally spoke.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Levi demanded, not taking his shirt off, but not lowering it back down either.
Erwin felt stuck for a moment, transfixed by the sight of Levi’s exposed abs before him. He didn’t think this far ahead, and now he was just staring like a schoolgirl. All his words left him.
“Uh… Well, I…” He spluttered stupidly. He expected Levi to be a tiny, skinny little thing under those silks, but he was built . Erwin knew jockeys had to be fit, but he thought the focus was on being skinny. Levi was short, but he was not delicate, that much was immediately apparent. His belt was undone and his jodhpurs were sitting low on his bony hips, and Erwin’s eyes traced every line of his torso until they disappeared below his waistband.
“You come back here to gawk at me? Seriously, man, what the hell?!” Levi’s voice grew in intensity a little bit. He seemed less awkward and uncomfortable in here, away from the cameras and reporters. Now he was being more confrontational. Even though Erwin totally deserved it for his intrusion, it was not typical for a jockey to speak like this to an owner. There was a hierarchy in horse racing. Erwin let it slide.
“No, sorry, I apologize for my intrusion, I just - well - you slipped away so fast. I didn’t get the opportunity to - well - uh,” Erwin had stuttered less asking out his middle school crush. It was pathetic and embarrassing, and he regretted his reckless actions barging in here and staring like this. He had been hopped up on the glory of winning, and he realized now what a compromising position he had put himself in. “I was hoping you’d be willing to come out to Nicolo’s for dinner tonight. Drink some champagne with me, you know?” He finally asked, although it came across like he was begging.
Levi somehow managed to look even more disgusted, cocking his brow in a simply incredulous expression. “What, like a date?”
Erwin grew hot with embarrassment, realizing how this probably looked to Levi.
“No! No, not like a date! Hange will be there, and some of my other racing friends, too! It’s celebratory! Because we just won the Breeders Cup! The jockey should be there!” Erwin hesitated, and felt Levi’s gaze rake him up and down skeptically. “It’s alright if you can’t make it…” He tacked on pathetically.
Levi, still poised with his shirt halfway up his torso, gave Erwin a suspicious blink. “You’re buying, right?”
“Oh, of course! You can bet on it, after the way you rode today.”
Levi appeared to make up his mind, pulling his shirt all the way off and tossing it in a locker. “Then sure, I’ll be there,” he accepted, and made his way over to the sink where he could wash the dirt from his face.
Erwin, not quite sure what to do with himself now, just stood and beamed for a minute that this standoffish little man had accepted his invitation. He really hadn’t even been meaning to stare this time, but Levi looked up from the sink and gave him a long, expectant look.
“You can go now, unless you fancy watching me in the shower as well,” he informed Erwin, and yet again, the taller man realized he was making a fool of himself.
“Right, sorry, I’ll see you later then,” he blustered, and turned to leave, but paused before he reached the door. He needed to save face a little bit.
“I had a wife, you know,” he informed Levi. He didn’t know why he felt the need to tell him, probably because Levi clearly thought he was gay, but it ended up having the opposite effect as Levi scoffed, and it was the first time Erwin saw him smile a little bit.
“ Tch, ‘had,’ huh? Well I’m sure you two were very happy together until she found out about the way you stare at your jockeys. I’ll see you at dinner, Erwin,” he said with a surprising warmth to his voice, and with that he disappeared towards the showers.