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Hange Zoe decided Levi Ackerman was gay on her third day at the university.
Not because he looked gay or whatever that meant, but because two guys from the football team were snickering behind the bleachers while she was trying (and evidently failing) to figure out where the science building was.
“Man, Ackerman skipped practice again,” one said. “Yeah, probably at home reading yaoi or something,” the other laughed.
Hange, who had been living off fanfiction and late-night manga since high school, froze.
Yaoi?
She looked up. Levi Ackerman was leaning against the chain-link fence, arms crossed, black jersey clinging to him like it had a personal vendetta. He looked unapproachable in the way storms looked unapproachable. Absolutely not someone you bothered unless you wanted to die.
Still, that didn’t stop him from being the apple of every giggling girl’s eye on the bleachers and even hallways. Because Levi, from what she’d noticed, was part of the university’s unholy trifecta: her cousin Mike, the student council president Erwin Smith, and him.
And yet.
Hange’s brain made a leap it should not have made.
“Oh,” she said aloud, nodding to herself. “Closeted gay. Got it.”
They met properly when Hange walked straight into him because she had zero spatial awareness and too many thoughts.
He caught her automatically, hand gripping her arm.
“Watch it,” he muttered.
She blinked up at him, eyes lighting up. “Oh! You’re Levi, right?”
His eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”
“Nope! I’m new.” She stuck out her hand. “Hange. Nice to meet you.”
He stared at her hand like it had personally offended him, but after a beat, he shook it.
“…Levi.”
From then on, somehow, she just stuck.
She sat with him and his friends. She talked too much. She shared memes. She would lent him manga without shame. When she mentioned liking yaoi, Levi barely reacted, just shrugged and said, “Read what you want.”
A smile slowly bloomed on her face. To Hange, this confirmed everything.
He was quiet, blunt, terrifying to strangers. But with her, he tolerated. Let her ramble. Let her exist loudly next to him. Because obviously, she thought, he was gay. Obviously, she was safe.
They became close without either of them noticing when it happened.
Late-night convenience store runs. Levi walking her home without comment. Hange stealing his jacket and him never asking for it back. It was the kind of closeness no one expected, but somehow it felt completely natural.
She told him about her crushes. He listened. He never talked about his.
“Ever date anyone?” she asked once, lying on the floor of his apartment while he cleaned.
“No.”
She smiled. “Yeah, makes sense.”
He paused, then continued wiping the counter.
The party was a mistake.
Hange was drunk in the way that made her thoughts dissolve into laughter, giggling her way through the night like a maniac that even Moblit distanced himself because she was getting too clingy and start murmuring things.
Levi barely drank, but he stayed, watching her make a mess of the living room and the people in it.
At some point, she ended up sitting beside him with a dramatic sigh, head tipping onto his shoulder.
He didn’t move away. Instead, he shifted slightly, draping an arm around her slight waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his other hand casually holding a glass of alcohol, taking slow sips while his eyes bored into the crowd from beneath his bangs.
Hange muttered to herself and waving at strangers passing by with a stupid grin. Some of them gave Levi an unsure look, then quickly walked away.
She wiggled closer, sniffing his neck. “You’re warm,” she mumbled, her words slurred just enough to make him raise an eyebrow.
“Tch. You’re wasted.”
She laughed. “Good thing you’re gay.”
Silence.
Levi looked down at her, head tilted just a fraction of an inch.
“…what?”
She waved a hand. “Relax, I know. Your secret is safe with me.”
He stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across his face.
Then, casually—too casually—he said, “You wanna get laid?”
Hange blinked. “Huh?”
“Tonight,” he added. “You. Me.”
Her brain short-circuited. She laughed again, because obviously this was a joke, and obviously she was drunk, and obviously—
The rest came in fragments.
The click of the door closing.
Levi’s hot palms winding tight against her bare hip, pressing her waist down against the soft pristine mattress.
The slick glide of his warm tongue dragging up the flush of her cheek, tracing the sensitive curve of her throat down to the center of her chest.
His low, ragged pants spilling past his lips right against her ear, his breath smelling faintly of alcohol as he moans her name.
Rough hands tangling ruthlessly into the messy, damp nest of her hair that pulled her head back and forced her closer to the heat of his face.
Then, the crushing solid weight as he settles on fully on top of her.
Hips pressing, pressing, pressing into her rear, the relentless friction of his hardness sliding against her sopping insides until she couldn't tell where her own skin ended and his began.
A sudden rush of a delicious tingle sparking deep within her guts and…oh—
She woke with a dull headache, her body sore in places she wasn’t used to noticing, and Levi’s arm heavy and warm around her waist.
For a moment, she just lay there, blinking at the ceiling as everything slowly settled in.
Then she screamed.
“What the hell!”
Levi groaned beside her. “If you’re gonna panic, do it quieter.”
She tried to sit up, dragging the comforter with her as it clung to both of them. She stared at him, eyes still closed, his face set as if he were determined to continue sleeping. Then her gaze drifted to the all-too-familiar pristine room, one that was definitely not hers.
She looked back at him.
“You’re—” she swallowed. “You’re not gay.”
“No shit.”
“But the yaoi—”
“I read one manga,” he muttered. “Once.”
Hange buried her face in her hands.
“I slept with you thinking you were a masc gay best friend.” She wasn’t making any sense, that she’s aware of.
“And I slept with you thinking you knew I wasn’t,” he shot back, now staring up at her, then paused. “…you didn’t?”
She peeked at him through her fingers.
“…do you regret it?”
He looked at her for a long moment, then reached out and flicked her forehead.
“No.”
Her heart did something stupid.
“Oh,” she said softly, lowering her hands and nibbling on her lower lip, because damn, she had never done this before.
Levi, having to notice her slight discomfort, sighed. “We’re gonna have to talk about this.”
After a moment, she rested her head back on the mattress.
“Yeah,” she said. “But maybe after coffee.”
He pulled her closer.
“Idiot.”