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“Right! That’s it Smith. I’m fucking divorcing you!”
The bedroom door slams open with such force that it bounces back off the wall and almost hits Levi in the face.
“God fucking dammit, I swear to fuck…” he growls.
“Levi darling,” Erwin mumbles, peeling his face off the pillow, “could you keep it down a little? I’m feeling a bit fragile…”
“Fragile? I’ll show you fucking fragile.”
Erwin cracks one bleary eye open and finds his husband looming over him, face like thunder, brandishing a jagged shard of glass stem.
“Think you could put me out of my misery with that?” Erwin groans as his hangover makes its presence felt.
“Don’t fucking tempt me. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”
“Shhh darling…” Erwin pleads, “come back to bed and tell me what the matter is. Only could you please just do it quietly?”
“Don’t you fucking shush me you piece of shit! You broke my blender and all my stem ware. Again. I fucking warned you; next time it’s divorce. Did you listen? Did you fuck. There’s one glass left. One!”
Levi is really getting into his stride now and though Erwin cringes at every caustic word, he also can’t help admiring how cute Levi looks when he gets pissed. The fact that he’s wearing nothing more than one of Erwin’s oversized t-shirts and an apron adorned with a vintage print of a French maid’s outfit only adds to the picture.
“What the fuck are you smirking at?” Levi snaps.
Dammit. Caught in the act. Erwin quickly schools his features into something more contrite.
“You think I’m joking?” Levi continues. “Those were our best glasses! I told you I’d wash them by hand, but oh no, ‘I’ll clear up’ you said, ‘leave it to me’ you said, ‘you just go to bed now’. I should have known better. How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t. Put. Glasses. In. The. Fucking. Dishwasher.”
He’s standing beside the bed now jabbing Erwin in the chest to emphasise each word. Erwin winces with each jab, though he’s thankful that it’s Levi’s finger doing the jabbing rather than the lethal looking glass stem.
“I’m sorry baby,” Erwin adopts his most pathetic expression and gazes up at Levi, “I was just trying to help, you put so much effort into the cooking, it’s the least I could do.”
There is a grain of truth in the excuse. The previous evening, they had been entertaining Nile, Marie, Mike and Nanaba, and Levi as always had insisted on doing all the cooking. Much as Levi professed to loath entertaining, Erwin knew that he enjoyed having an excuse to show off his not inconsiderable culinary skills, and truth be told, Erwin equally enjoyed having an excuse to show off his tiny talented husband. It had been an enjoyable evening that had ended with them making a sizable dent in Erwin’s whisky collection. It was the wee small hours of the morning when they had finally poured their guests into a cab and Erwin knew from experience that if he let Levi start clearing up the kitchen he’d be there till god knows when. And by that stage in proceedings Erwin very much wanted Levi not in the kitchen but in the bedroom. Luckily Levi was stifling a yawn as the cab pulled away and that was sufficient excuse for Erwin to insist he go straight to bed while he tidied up the kitchen. Which was how Erwin ended up flinging their crockery and glassware into the dishwasher at three in the morning before racing up the stairs in an attempt to claim his conjugal rights before Levi fell asleep. His haste had paid off and, as he remembers the way Levi had melted into his arms, he can’t help reflecting that it was worth breaking every last piece of glassware in the house. The memory of Levi lying warm and pliant beneath him is more than enough to distract Erwin from his hangover. Blithely ignoring Levi’s foul temper he reaches out one arm catches him round the waist and pulls him down onto the bed.
“Come back to bed and I’ll make it up to you darling,” Erwin coos sliding one hand under Levi’s apron.
“I don’t know why you insisted we use the best stem ware anyway,” Levi grumbles, still not quite ready to be placated, though he makes no attempt to get up off the bed. “It’s not like we had anyone special round.”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect after you put so much effort into the meal.” Sensing the beginnings of a thaw in Levi’s mood, Erwin risks sliding his hand lower. “Even Nile commented how nice the table looked.
“Tch,” Levi tuts, crossing his arms and looking pointedly away. “I bet Nile knows how to load a dishwasher.”
“Darling!” Erwin gasps in mock affront. “Are you suggesting you’d rather swap me for Nile?”
“Yeah, right…” Levi scoffs, rolling his eyes.
“I suppose he does have a lot going for him.” Erwin’s giving it full on puppy dog eyes now. “He’s sweet, concerned, handsome…” each epithet is accompanied by a kiss to Levi’s arm, his thigh, any bit of him that Erwin can reach without lifting his head too far off the pillow. “He’s a loving family man, a faithful friend, to say nothing of that luxuriant facial hair.” Erwin pulls the string of Levi’s apron, drapes it over his upper lip and bats his eyes winsomely. “All that and he has an awesome way with a dishwasher too. How can I possibly compete against such a man?”
“Oh for fuck sake.” Levi snatches the tie of his apron from under Erwin’s nose. “Fucking idiot. If you think I want to wake up next to that rat-faced bastard, you must be still hammered.”
“Does this mean you’re not going to divorce me then?” Erwin grins.
“I’ll think about it.” Levi sniffs.
“How about if I give you something something else to think about?”
Erwin’s mouthing at Levi’s hip now, working his way south.
Before long Levi isn’t thinking of much at all and the broken glass stem lies forgotten on the table beside the bed. Erwin breathes a sigh of relief as his marriage survives another day.