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Eren was perfectly and utterly sane.
And that was the problem.
As a kid, watching the scouts trot through the gates, it had all seemed very noble to him. They gave the impression of aloof, composed men and women, mysterious superheroes that save the day with a shrug. Or at least brave, if not idealised to that extent, willing to plunge into the open jaws of death for a cause greater than themselves. It was simple, childish hero-worship. After his mother had been eaten, joining them was mostly about revenge. Hatred. But that reverence lingered, and despite the uncertain, shaky circumstances - if he slipped up, he was dead, the Military Police had assured him of that - a part of Eren had been squeamish and excited about meeting Levi Squad.
For absolutely nothing.
Everyone - literally everyone - turned their nose on the Scout Legion, badmouthing them and calling them insane. Eren's usual response was his fist to their face, but after meeting Levi Squad (and Hanji) he just sat there dejectedly. Because...yeah.
He was surrounded by lunatics.
“Eren. EREN! It’s your turn,” Oluo snapped, nudging him none too kindly. “I swear brats these days don’t have to be high to be slow. It’s like his brain is wired that way.”
Eren glared at him and pushed his board piece to whatever spot was available. He really didn’t care about this game, but the scouts were frantic about it. Mono-monolopy? Gunther yelled at him for doing it wrong, screaming instructions that flew right over his head. He sighed in annoyance, impatiently bouncing his knee.
“Olou, just because you have this gay fixation on Captain-” Olou screeched, scandalised, “I doubt he’ll want to fuck his doppelganger!” Petra said, raising her voice over his. She screamed at him to change tactics, gradually getting louder as Olou sputtered and defended his masculinity.
Eld slammed his scotch down, making the table jump. The paper money scattered, and Gunther who was apparently the in-game banker shoved him off his chair with one swift, angry move. Just as he was settling in, Eld’s hand darted up and yanked him by his hair. Eren watched in morbid fascination as they wrestled for a bit - until Gunther managed to push him off.
The thing is this wasn’t just annoying and bad for his ears, but also weird. Commander Erwin and Section Commander Hanji was there too, lounging, heavily intoxicated, on the cold floor. Their pawns stood several paces behind Eren’s, who was last, almost where they’d started a couple of drinks ago. Was that bad? He couldn’t remember, and neither did he care. Monopoly sucked. It was always ended with someone flipping the board.
He joined to kill titans, goddammnit! Not for game nights.
Hell, even Captain Levi was drunk. He wasn’t outwardly loud about it like the rest of his comrades, nor a giggling, floundering mess on the floor. But the heavy red flush adorned on his cheekbones and his glazed over eyes gave it away, pupils too large and unfocused.
He leaned on the wall with his arms crossed, drink in hand, observing like some great, divine being. Eren took advantage of his dazed state and stared at him openly, wondering why Levi tolerated this. Did he actually enjoy it – was the indifference just an act? He didn’t give off the impression of a drinker.
“EREN!” Petra screamed in his ear, causing him to jolt. “Come on, vote!”
“Vote?” he said, bewildered. Since when did this game have a voting system in place!?
“Weren’t you listening?” she barked, “We’re voting on who Captain Levi wants to fuck the most.”
Eren blushed so hard he, too, looked drunk.
Eld raised his hand from the floor – he seemed to have taken permanent residence, probably too drunk to get up. “Smith,” he said hoarsely. Gunther nodded in agreement whilst Olou shook his head.
“Petra.” He grabbed the bottle closest to him and took several, long gulps.
“I’m flattered,” she said sarcastically, scowling. “But the way your gaze lingered on Eren’s ass yesterday I’m going to give your repressed little homosexual heart some hope and-”
Their arguing – more a screaming match – drowned out the rest of their words. Eren reddened, and if he hadn’t wanted to leave before, he definitely did now. Especially when Erwin and Hanji started drunk singing, their voices mingling in with all the insistent, jumbled noise.
Eren was surprised Olou hadn’t bitten off his tongue yet.
“Smith,” Eren yelled, just to break them off each other. He cleared his throat, not sure if Levi squad – and the stragglers– always failing to remember the events come tomorrow morning was a good thing or not.
“COMMANDER, DO YOU WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH-”
Erwin unfolded himself from the floor, standing at the end of their small, wooden table, towering above them with his freakish height. Eren jumped at the sudden manifestation, cursing under his breath. Just by the look of Erwin, it was clear he had had one glass too many. In the expectant silence that followed Eren could even hear Eld’s low snoring, but the Commander wasn’t the one who said anything, just swayed in place, until eventually Olou and Petra resumed their heated debate, and Erwin fell with a thud to the floor. Much to Hanji's delight, who screeched with laughter.
It was Levi who spoke.
“No,” he said, voice booming. He pushed himself off the wall, only to promptly drop the glass of scotch. It shattered on impact, glass spilling out everywhere. Why nobody had kept their basic motor skills, Eren didn’t know, grimacing. They’re all awful, mean, weird drunks.
Captain Levi took a few, shaky steps towards him, which Eren watched with trepidation – he doesn’t trust drunk people, even well-behaved one’s - before pausing in front of his chair. His knees knocked against Eren’s - wow, was he short – brow arching expectantly.
Nobody had noticed, or at least didn’t care enough to. Even perceptive Gunther was slumped over the table, frantically counting notes, stacking them up on the board, switching the pawns around. Actually, what was he doing, and why did it implore such feverish gestures?
Nobody is even playing anymore...
Levi nudged the tip of his shiny, black boot with his own, expression rapidly increasing in irritation. What? Eren thought, more than bewildered. This time Levi kicked him forcefully, sliding one foot in. Eren peeked around desperately, trying to make sense of a drunk Captain, but again, nobody was heeding them any mind.
Warily, Eren let his legs fall open, thinking that maybe Levi was trying to grab something behind him. However, this proved to be a fatal mistake when he slipped in between the space, draping himself over all Eren. Eren squeaked as two, strong, gorgeously toned arms, which he often found himself admiring – it was not gay, more like a live vision board! - braced themselves on his shoulders. An intense, frowning face, criminally handsome too, swam in his vision too closely in front of him. Way too closely.
Eren swallowed.
Levi seated himself on his lap, coming closer, and closer, until Hanji’s loud, enthusiastic "go for it!” made him close the gap entirely. Eren was utterly defenceless to stop it, and too surprised. The soft press of lips, the hand tousled in his hair, Levi’s open mouth hot and slick against his - the cheers from the rest of Levi Squad, drunkenly egging them on, it felt surreal at first. Even Erwin and Hanji were hooting, shouting for Levi to tap that ass.
Kissing briskly turned into making out. Levi’s other hand was on his cheek, firmly holding him in place, tilting his head this and that way. A pleasant buzz overtook Eren as he kissed back, mildly embarrassed but mostly lost in the bliss of it. He tried to match Levi’s rhythm, biting and licking and moaning. This felt good, the sensation settling in his lower stomach. How many could brag they’d snogged Humanity’s Strongest, after all? But when Levi’s hands began to sneak lower, dangling on his hips, moving to his zipper, Eren was mortified.
He gasped against the captain’s mouth, pushing him away with his hands on the man's chest. Once they parted, whiplash hit him like a bitch, and he covered his face with his hands, trying not to squirm, but he shouted on reflex when Petra called him a cockblock. He wasn’t sure if she was talking about herself or Levi. Eren dearly, really hoped that this particular turn of events would be erased from everybody's mind.
Please alcohol, please, work your magic...
His head was still spinning from the kiss, slightly panting to recover his breath. He wasn’t stupid enough to attribute it to anything but intoxication, so when Levi leaned in a second time, his mouth swollen and red, trying to reconnect the string of saliva glistening between them, Eren promptly stood up. He winced at the crash as Levi fell to the floor, ear burning bright bed.
“I’m going to bed now!” he announced loudly over the raucous cackles. He made his way to the cell, vaguely dizzy, falling into the bed with a groan. The throbbing in his head insisted, and the shouts and laughter somehow carried down to the dungeons. To him.
Eren touched his lips, still feeling the phantom touch of the Captain, and groaned again.
The sun streamed in through the tall windows, bathing the dining room in drops of sunlight. Eren stumbled in ritzily, throat parched from the meagre amounts of drinking he’d done yesterday. A few couple of shots, but honestly, he’d discovered he bore his alcohol well the second game-night. He wasn’t sure if that was a curse or a blessing.
Lost in thought and grumbling, Eren passed by the table Squad Levi claimed for themselves without further notice. The dining room was empty except them, and he just wanted some water. Tea, maybe...A part of him was still asleep, not alert enough to think about breakfast. Or other people. Or the night before. In fact, he was thinking of his sweet, wonderful, warm bed right now. It was a disappointing habit he’d never seemed to shake off, not even whilst living under Keith’s harsh, unforgiving ways.
“Hey, Jaeger!” Olou yelled. Eren groggily turned to him. Eld wasn’t present, and Gunther bore a look of constipation, surely lost in the waves of hangover induced nausea that must be hitting him, but Olou and Petra were both wearing twin expressions of shit-eating grins. Smug and all. Even the Commander was amused, sharing a glance with Hanji, whose eyebags were more pronounced than ever. Levi casually sipped his tea. After his quick observation, Eren’s face twisted into confusion.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you want to come and give Captain a little peck?” he said, Petra shrieking with laughter to his side.
Eren instantly sobered up. Memories of last night flooded in immediately; his face felt ridiculously hot. It was so unfair! They always did this! They dragged him along to game night’s and picked on him because he was new and unfamiliar, and they had the position to do so. Besides, why’s Eren the embarrassed one? It was Levi who’d kissed him. Defensively, his hands curled into fists at his sides, hanging limply. If it were Jean mocking him, he’d have landed a blow already.
“So, you do remember,” Eren barked, which caused Erwin to choke on a laugh, mirth crinkling his eyes. Even the Commander, usually so stoic and sharp, was laughing at him. Gunther groaned something unintelligible and Hanji tutted, placing a comforting hand on his arm, but she didn’t bother to mask her snickers either. The Scouting Legion is mad.
But worst of all...
Worst of all was Captain.
Levi set his teacup on the table with a clink, raising his head to stare at him. For once, he wasn’t wearing a look of disinterest and apathy. He inspected Eren, dragging his gaze up and down, not in the unimpressed way he so often did with the recruits, but in a positively scandalous way. It made Eren hotter than ever, remembering how Levi’s hand had crept down yesterday. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and it was all he could do not to turn tail and flee.
Levi winked.
He actually winked.
Eren didn’t register it at first, so unexpected was the action. Then he did, and he felt himself blushing all over – yet for a reason different to humiliation – flustered beyond belief. Olou said something stupid about a re-vote, which made no sense, but Eren wasn’t listening. He was looking at Levi, who was looking at him...
Oh no, he wouldn’t survive another game night. His poor, fluttering heart just wouldn’t!