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Something's wrong with Levi.
No one can tell, obviously; the corporal's poker face is impeccable. Levi himself, on the other hand, is painfully aware that he's got some screws loose.
The person at fault? Eren fucking Jaeger.
He's having trouble concentrating as he sips his tea, his back aligned with the tree trunk he's resting on. The Scout Legion's base is in his line of sight, but he tries to keep his eyes away from it. Even at this distance, he can hear the voices of his comrades, inside the base and all around it. He wishes they would shut up already.
A hand comes up to his throbbing temple, and he lets his eyes flutter closed, if only for a moment. Normally—even with his limited hours of sleep—he isn't so worn out. But he has a new problem, one that he isn't sure how to solve.
"Corporal Levi, there you are!"
Then the problem itself is there, standing in front of him with one hand fisted into a salute.
"Eren," Levi sighs, not bothering to stand up, "what do you think you're doing here? The windows aren't going to wash themselves."
"Finished them," says Eren. He looks proud of himself. Levi wants to wipe that look right off his face.
"Clean the floorboards, then."
"Already did."
"Dust the furniture."
"You told me to do that yesterday, sir."
"Does that mean you're incapable of doing it again?" he challenges, but he has to admit the boy has a point.
"Um, Levi?" He's about to snap at Eren for talking so familiarly to him—he's Eren's superior, not his friend—but the shifter talks faster. "Can I sit with you?"
Eren looks like a child in this moment, with his hair ruffled as if by a mother's hand and his smile hesitant. The traces of anger usually crinkling his eyebrows are gone, and he looks almost . . . cute.
"No," Levi says, and he stands up. The tips of his ears feel warm, heated. He doesn't like it. "I was just leaving, so I guess if you plan on loafing around all day instead of doing something useful, you might as well take my spot."
"Huh? Wait, but I wanted to sit with y—"
"Not over my dead body." Levi waves a hand at Eren, as if that explains everything. "You smell filthy. I can't even breathe the same air as you right now, brat."
Eren's eyes widen, and Levi can tell the boy's offended, maybe even hurt. He bets that if he was that one guy, the one with a face resembling a horse, he'd have a punch coming his way. But he isn't, so all he gets is an open-mouthed stare.
"Levi—"
Levi knows he's got it bad when he feels his heart thud a tad harder in his chest. The way Eren says his name, rolling it off his tongue like a lullaby—
Why did he have to fall in love with Eren fucking Jaeger?
"You've been messing with my head real good, you know that?" Levi's words are short and curt; he doesn't want the boy to know just how frustrated he's been over this newly found crush of his.
"Sir?" Eren's head is cocked to the side, adorably enough, and the sight makes Levi want to rip his own hair out. "I don't know what you mean."
"Of course you don't. You're too dense to think of anything except your little Titan obsession." He almost wishes Eren knew, but at the same time, he's glad he doesn't. No one needs to know the petty thoughts he's been having lately, the ones that make him seem like a teenage girl rather than a corporal in his thirties.
Wind whips through Eren's hair, ruffling it into a disarray of chocolate strands. "You're wrong," he murmurs. "That's not the only thing on my mind, Levi."
He doesn't even think to correct the boy for using his name; his curiosity's peaked. An eyebrow raises. "That so? And here I thought the only words you understood were 'Titans' and 'kill'."
"I know plenty more than that!" says Eren. "I'm not an idiot, you know!"
"You're about as smart as I am tall," he says back. And I'm 5'2", he almost adds, but the less Eren knows the better.
"That—That's not the point here," says Eren, clearly exasperated. His eyes rise, meeting the other's gaze, and the force behind them makes Levi pause. "I was trying to say that I do think about other stuff, not just killing the Titans. I . . ."
Levi's foot is tapping out the beats of his heart on the grass under his boot. "Well?" His voice sounds odd, unlike him. He frowns.
"I've been thinking a lot about you, Corporal," Eren mutters, his powerful gaze falling to the ground, losing effect as his will-power fades away into the wind.
The corporal's mouth dries up. "You do realize how much that makes you sound like a stalker, don't you?"
Startled, Eren shakes his head, gesturing wildly as he speaks. "N-no, wait, that's not what I meant! I meant—I meant that I like you, Levi!"
Silence, save for the wind whooshing past them both.
Levi's eyes are blown wide. He stares and stares and stares, until Eren is fidgeting like a soldier thrown outside the walls for the first time. He hears the way his own breath snags with surprise.
He realizes that he's supposed to say something, anything to dispel the awkward atmosphere, but his throat won't work. Maybe that's because his heart's lodged inside it, swollen with something that almost feels like hope.
Eren takes the initiative, then, and Levi has to wonder if the kid's either really brave or really stupid, because he steps up and presses his lips to Levi's. Eren tastes like sweat, bread, and—as foolish as it is—sunlight. Levi doesn't make a sound; he feels no need to as he crushes the boy to his chest and kisses him hard.
When he breaks away, he pulls back to see Eren's closed eyelids. They lift, and blue-green eyes blink down at him. "L-Levi?"
"Eren fucking Jaeger," he sighs, before pulling the boy in for a rough embrace. "What am I going to do with you?"