Work Text:
Levi nodded once and set his teacup down onto the saucer, the soft clink of porcelain ringing out through the small living room.
“You’re getting better,” he said, a soft fondness unfurling in his chest at the way Gabi’s face lit up at the rare praise.
She was a good kid, that one. Reminded him of someone else, sometimes, but that was hardly her fault.
“Next time, I’ll get it exactly right, you’ll see!” she said with that spark in her eyes and a little excited bounce on the couch, and Levi had to actively suppress the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Damn brats. Making him go all mushy.
“Don’t shout, Gabi,” Falco chimed in much softer from the small kitchen, where he busied himself rinsing the kettle Gabi had abandoned in her single-minded quest to serve him tea.
Levi could do it himself, really. He was used to the way his leg failed him. It didn’t stop him from doing what needed to be done.
Those kids just took it upon themselves to show up and do it for him on occassion.
Surprisingly, he didn’t mind, though he wouldn’t contemplate what that said about him.
“I’m not shouting!” Gabi shouted over her shoulder, and Falco heaved a sigh but conceded, setting the kettle aside to dry.
“Right.”
Levi let their senseless bickering fade into background noise, something to stave off the stifling silence this day always brought with it; silence had been a rare, precious thing once upon a time, but now, well.
He shook his head and reached for his cup, took a slow sip, savoured the warmth and freshness of it. Levi had grown that mint himself–planted it, cared for it, cut it, dried it, put it in a little jar and kept it on his kitchen counter, not the cabinet. For the days he couldn’t stand for long enough to grab it.
That wasn’t his only homegrown tea, of course–sometimes, when he watered his herbs during warm evenings, he thought to himself that he could have made a decent farmer, back within the walls.
What a life that could have been.
“So, what’s up with the ring?” Gabi said, ripping him from his contemplations.
The girl regarded him with those curious eyes, not a hint of malice in them, and Levi forced the automatic defenses that snapped up the instant the word ring left her lips back down, though it took quite a bit of effort.
Falco leaned over the back of the couch, his forearms braced on the headrest, and followed Gabi’s gaze to Levi’s raised cup.
On the ring finger of his unscathed hand, a worn golden band gleamed away.
He set the cup back down with care and rubbed a thumb along the warmed metal.
“I’m… remembering someone today,” he said, fully intending to leave it at that. Falco’s expression softened with understanding, while Gabi blinked once–and barrelled on.
“Is that a wedding ring? Were you married?” the way she said it sounded almost offended, and Levi couldn’t help but snort, halting Falco’s admonishment in its tracks.
“Is that so hard to believe? That someone wanted to marry me?”
Gabi’s eyes widened, finally realising the social faux pas she had merrily launched herself into, and she raised her hands up in front of her, fingers spread.
“Uh, no! Of course not! I mean-” Falco nudged her shoulder, and she fell silent. It took real effort to hold back the huff of laughter tickling the base of his throat.
“No,” he said after a brief, uncomfortable pause, his good eye fixed to the dulled gold. “I wasn’t married. But someone did want to marry me.”
The kids exchanged a very unsubtle look before turning back to him.
“So… why didn’t you marry her?”
Levi scoffed softly.
“I didn’t marry him because he was my Commander.”
The silence that followed was as brief as it was heavy.
“...oh. I, uh, I see.” Gabi shifted on his couch, fidgeting with her fingers. “...but you still have a ring?”
“I do,” he responded and took up his cup again.
Gabi bit her lip, exchanging another glance with Falco, then went on. “Would you… like to tell us about it? To remember him better?”
His hand jerked to a stop halfway to his face.
It had been a very fucking long time since Levi had gotten to talk about him. Sometimes, it was like he had abandoned everything of him back on their little island, within the cage that had been his entire world.
Everything that had mattered to him.
That worn book of children’s stories he’d somehow managed to keep over twenty-five years. His favourite coat he’d liked to wrap around Levi’s shoulders when he’d deemed it necessary. The pair of reading glasses only a select handful of people had even known about, the ones that had put Levi in a daydreaming kind of mood like nothing else could, that had made him imagine him older, with less stress lines and fainter eye bags.
The only thing Levi had left of him now was the ring, but he rarely wore it.
A part of him didn’t feel like he deserved to wear it after he’d chosen to let him die.
It only left its polished, cushioned little box on important days. Levi put it on once or twice a year, maybe–sometimes, when he woke and everything hurt, and he could tell it was going to be a bitch of a fucking day, he took it out just to hold it.
But none of that was for the kids’ ears.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and forced himself back into motion, took a deliberate sip of tea before he lowered his cup again.
“I… yes. I think I would.”
Levi found Erwin bent over his desk, elbow braced on the wood and knuckles pressed to his creased forehead. The light of the oil lamp reflected off his glasses, but the narrow frame did little to conceal his concentrated squint.
He rolled his eyes as he pushed the door shut behind himself, then made his way over.
Erwin didn’t look up as he approached, but Levi didn’t expect him to. He set the steaming cup of tea–chamomile, not black, which was his way of telling him to go to fucking bed–down on Erwin’s left, next to the documents responsible for eating those lines into his features, made even more severe by the shadows cast by the lamp.
It took a beat and Levi’s hand on Erwin’s shoulder for him to straighten in his seat and pluck the glasses from the bridge of his nose. They joined the documents on the desk, and then Erwin’s hand covered his.
“What are you doing up? It’s late,” he said and scooted his chair backwards with a soft screech of wood on wood, just far enough for him to release Levi’s hand and curl his arm around his waist instead, tugging him down.
Levi went without complaint and settled across his lap.
“Is it?” he shot back with a pointed look. It earned him a tired, sheepish smile, and Levi scoffed and shook his head. “I made you tea.”
“Mh.” Erwin pressed a kiss to his temple and reached for the cup. “Thank you, my love.”
And just like that, Levi softened considerably.
He took a sip and exhaled a quiet breath. His arm rested around Levi’s shoulders, and he offered the cup to him next without a word.
Needless to say, Levi accepted.
They shared that cup of chamomile tea in companionable silence. It was late, and words weren’t necessary.
It was enough to sit together, melt into each other, under the cover of the early morning hours when the world lay sleeping and no one expected anything of them.
When the cup was drained, Erwin set it back down.
He pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, lips warm and soft, and Levi closed his eyes and accepted the affection.
“Levi…” he murmured, barely a breath of space between them.
“Hm?”
A beat of silence followed, and Levi opened his eyes again to skyblue irises, lashes the colour of sunshine, and the faintest constellation of freckles on the bridge of that nose.
Erwin’s breath caught in his throat, even though Levi felt it was him who should be breathless.
“Marry me.”
That did effectively punch the air from his lungs.
“...what?” he choked and leaned away until they could comfortably meet each other’s eye.
“Marry me,” Erwin repeated. It didn’t make much more sense this time around.
“That- I-” He broke off to gather himself before he started to truly sound like a moron. “Erwin. That’s impossible. For several reasons.”
Erwin’s gaze softened further, that small spark in his eyes that usually accompanied speculation about the world, about what could be out there, like a blinking star in the nightsky.
“I know. But… would you?” He uncurled his arm from around Levi’s shoulders and cupped his cheek in the cradle of that broad palm, thumb sweeping softly.
Levi scoffed and cleared his throat, leaning into the touch. “Don’t be an idiot. Of course I would.”
But that was a futile line of thought.
It wasn’t possible, so there was no sense in discussing it.
Erwin’s chest rumbled with a velvet soft chuckle, and he drew Levi closer, pressed their foreheads together and let their noses nudge.
“It’s not possible, I know. But what is marriage, really? A ceremony and a piece of paper? We don’t need that to be each other’s.”
“Hm. I suppose not,” he agreed softly, resting a hand on Erwin’s chest as he strained marginally closer to steal a kiss.
“Let me ammend my question,” Erwin mumbled, still so close that Levi could taste the words on his lips.
“It wasn’t a question. It was more of an order.”
Erwin snorted and kissed him firmly, once, before pulling back. “Smartass. Fine. Wear my ring.”
Levi blinked.
“Can’t. We’re not allowed to wear jewellery with ODM gear-”
He groaned and shook his head with a small smile, nudging Levi’s chin the slightest bit higher. “Do you want me to beg, Levi? Have my ring, then. Don’t wear it, don’t look at it, I just want you to have it.”
“I would love to see you beg, actually,” he responded and cracked a tiny smile at the look he got in return. “One condition.”
Erwin regarded him with fond exasperation and stroked some hair from his forehead. “Alright. Name your price.”
Levi leaned into the gentle touch and reached out, cradling Erwin’s jaw in both his palms.
“You’ll have a ring too.”
Those severe features melted into an expression that took his breath away, a look of pure love and affection Levi never thought he could be on the receiving end of.
“Deal.”
They met in a soft kiss that tasted of chamomile.
“There’s this goldsmith in Stohess-” Erwin murmured against his lips, but the rest of that sentence was lost to another kiss, this one more insistent.
“Yeah? You’ve been scouting goldsmiths?” he teased gently, because if he didn’t laugh, well-
This… had obviously been on Erwin’s mind for a while.
And that was a lot to take in.
Smooth, rumbling laughter puffed against his lips, and then they were kissing, and kissing, and kissing, for the rest of the night and into the morning.
Levi cut it there, because that part was not meant for young ears.
Falco had settled next to Gabi on the couch during his slow recounting. His cup sat empty on the saucer. He lowered his gaze from the wide eyes of the kids down to the ring on his finger, his brow creasing with emotion.
“I still miss him,” he said quietly, and silence settled.
Until Gabi spoke up, as she was prone to do.
“You should remember him more often.” Levi glanced up and was met by those soft features hardened by determination. “You can tell us about him. We’ll listen! Right, Falco?”
Falco nodded firmly, and all of a sudden he was reminded that those kids were raised to be soldiers.
“Perhaps I will,” he said and swallowed against his tight throat.
Gabi flashed a grin that softened into a smile. “Good. Besides, you can wear the ring now, right? There’s no more fighting.” She pulled a grimace. “Maybe take it off for gardening, though.”
He huffed a surprised breath of laughter, looking back down at the hand that held the ring.
“I suppose I could wear it more often.”
Not every day.
But… more than once or twice a year. Gabi was right–the fighting was over.
Perhaps the last piece Levi had left of Erwin deserved to see more of the peaceful world they were building piece by piece with each new day.
The kind of world Erwin and he would talk of in low voices, wrapped in each other’s arms and the sheets, when the night was darkest outside their window, and they could almost pretend.