Chapter Text
NOW
“And I’m not saying we should do it.”
“Right,” Levi grunts, stonewalling. “No, of course you’re not.”
He is warm from the fireplace, full from dinner, happy to finally be alone with Erwin. Or, he was. He’s not thrilled about his carefully curated routine being interrupted by this. Again.
Erwin looks at him pointedly, “But — ”
Levi sighs, purposefully loud, interrupting. Sure. Fine. Whatever. They’ve danced around it long enough. It’s been like this — night after night. He puts down the sweater he’s been darning, folds his arms on top of it in his lap. He turns to Erwin. He finally gives this unpleasant conversation his full attention.
“But what?”
“When I told you before I wasn’t interested, I meant it,” Erwin starts. He shifts a bit in his seat, closer to him, and then reaches, pulls one of Levi’s hands into his, earnest. Levi lets him do it.
“I know how you feel about politics, the whole lot of it,” he continues, sounding careful. “You don’t want to move. I don’t disagree. But things were more — stable, then, the first time we discussed this. Things were better, yes? The glow of the Armistice, I suspect,” he seems to add, as an aside. “But it’s changed. The mood has soured, and a lot faster than I anticipated. People are agitated – they’re restless. And it’s a temporary job. We can always move back. I want you to reconsider.” Erwin pauses then, eyeing him – seeing how Levi might take this.
Levi says nothing. Erwin has probably been sitting on this diatribe for a while now. It’s best to let him get it all out at once, he’s learned.
“I’m worried that our work will be wasted,” Erwin powers through Levi’s reticence. He squeezes Levi’s hand in his great, big one. “People are skeptical of democracy as a concept. And why wouldn’t they be? It’s not like their voting options breed confidence. If this first election goes poorly, it’s back to where we started. Maybe worse. After everything we’ve been through, it’ll be for nothing. I cannot let that happen. If we fall back — I’ll never forgive myself. I don’t see how I could.”
“It’s not my problem anymore. Or yours. You promised me.” Levi tells him simply. He pulls his hand away, picks up the fuzzy sweater again; he needs something to fidget with. He folds it neatly there in his lap, letting Erwin simmer and drown in the silence that follows the reminder. He promised. They’re done.
Levi places the sweater on top of the laundry pile next to him. Soft, quilted blankets. Gingham-patterned overalls. They’re getting too small, actually, he notes. He’ll need to get her a new pair.
“I did,” Erwin agrees, finally. “And I still do. I promise you. If you don’t want me to – I won’t. I just want you to think it over again, that’s all. And I disagree that it’s not our problem. I don’t think you really believe that,” he challenges.
“Don’t I?” Levi is aware that he’s being short – abrasive even. It’s not productive, but he can’t help it. It’s a losing battle, regardless. He doesn’t even know why he is bothering with this. The room suddenly feels too hot. He stares glumly at the fireplace.
Contrary to what Erwin might believe, Levi has indeed been paying attention to the political landscape. He doesn’t need to be told all this, but Erwin so loves to explain. Being retired gives you a lot of free time, and Levi reads the papers these days – he’s not an animal.
Erwin is right, though. The pulse of the new nation of Eldia is nervous, frenetic. Prone to arrest. After generations of imperial rule, the concept of voting for a Premier, for legislative chambers — it’s a lot to ask people still recovering from a destabilizing world war.
What a cluster-fuck, Levi thinks. Less than three months out from the election, and there’s still too many cooks in the kitchen vying for the top job. None of the candidates seem eager to concede, but none of them are anywhere close to the necessary majority, either. Conrad Graf, an old- old -money noble from Krolva District, is the closest. He’s likely to get the plurality at this rate, forcing a run-off in their already fragile, newborn country.
Levi never liked him. A former Wallist, his brash demeanor and public calls for revenge against Marley make his supporters nearly froth at the mouth. Nothing about him reads stability , and yet he’s created his own little cult of personality. The thought of Graf wielding power over their hard-won island makes Levi’s eye twitch. So he’s been trying very hard not to think about it.
There’s only one person who could easily win the majority for Premier, really. Levi knows this. Everyone knows this. And he’s not running.
Erwin tries a new approach. “It affects them, too. They have their whole lives ahead of them. I want it to be better than we had it. It has to be.”
It’s a low blow. Levi bristles. “I know that. Don’t you think I know that?”
“Just tell me you’ll reconsider.“
“Yes. Fine. I’ll think about it.” Levi bites, knowing he’s conceding. He’s decided this whole conversation is stupid, actually — this isn’t worth the argument when he knows the outcome anyway. He stands abruptly, wipes his hands on his slacks, and heads upstairs without saying anything else.
Down the hall, a door is slightly ajar, a warm glow emanating from behind it. A beautiful glass nightlight, Levi knows. A birthday gift for his girl. She doesn’t like the dark.
Levi prods the door open with his foot gently, opening it just so. He pokes his head through.
Alma lays diagonal across her bed, holding her stuffed horse in one arm, her other splayed dramatically across the pillows. Her dark brown hair is a racket too, some of it stuck to her cheek, another batch of it right in her mouth. The oil lamp sprays colorful glass shards of dim light all across the room, refracting over her beloved collection of stuffed animals at the foot of her bed. She always knocks them down onto the floor when she plays; Erwin always picks them back up and lovingly stacks them again.
Levi watches her for a few moments, making sure she’s truly asleep. Satisfied, he leaves her to dream and goes back down the hall to the master.
Erwin is already there, in the small sitting room leading to their proper bedroom. Levi thought the attachment was ostentatious when they had bought the house originally, but it’s proven useful now.
Erwin is leaning over a bassinet, murmuring quietly to the little girl inside it. Levi can hear her mumbling back. He watches as Erwin picks her up, softly rests her head on his shoulder.
“She was awake when I got here,” Erwin whispers suddenly, deflecting an oncoming protest. He must have heard him come in, as quiet as he was trying to be about it. It seems he’s losing his edge.
“Alright,” he whispers back, and comes to stand next to them.
It’s hard to stay mad at Erwin when he’s like this, stroking Sabine’s downy hair. All his words of love and comfort, trying to get her to go back to sleep. It’s sweet, intimate. It makes him feel close to Erwin.
Sabine blinks at him from her perch on Erwin’s shoulder, minutes away from slumber again, her eyes half closed. They’re still blue, but darkening by the day. They’ll end up being just like her sister’s warm brown ones, Levi reckons.
He takes her hand, kisses her little fingernails. She was underweight at first, worryingly so. But she’s getting big fast, now. Too big. They’re going to have to move her from the bassinet soon. A half-made crib sits in the room across from Alma’s. The stupid thing is way more complicated to put together than it has any right to be.
He leaves Erwin to it, heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting off a headache while he brushes his teeth. It’s been a long fucking day.
By the time Erwin crawls in between the sheets next to him, Levi has mellowed some. He allows Erwin to hold him around the middle, pull him close, kiss the crown of his head. It’s quiet for a while. He begins to feel Erwin’s breath slow on his neck.
Levi closes his eyes. Before he loses his nerve, he squeezes Erwin’s hand and tells him, “Okay. Yes.”
“Mm?” He feels Erwin raise his head, look at him, but Levi doesn’t look back. “Yes, what?”
“You know what. You can do it. You can run. Just tell me it won’t fuck up their lives. It can’t.”
“It won’t. It won’t. It will be so good. I promise.” Erwin is never as clever with his words when he is half asleep, more truthful. “I just need to do this,” he admits, finally.
“I know,” Levi says, squeezing his hand again. “I know you do. Go to sleep.”
MIDDLE
“I’m going to St. Helen’s today. I’ll be back after lunch, I think,” Levi says, pulling Erwin’s book back from his face so that he can lean down and kiss him chastely. “I’ll see you then, yeah?”
Erwin regards him from where he sits at their breakfast table. Levi already has one hand on the doorknob, the other perched on the strap of the bag he has slung around his shoulder. “Eager to leave me so soon?” he teases. “And what’s in the bag?”
“I told you, I’ll be back after lunch. And none of your business,” he says, but his eyes are smiling as he goes.
It’s the fifth time this week he’s gone to St. Helen’s. Erwin is grateful that Levi has found this — this thing that has given him purpose, a place for him to pour his energy into, even if he won’t say it so explicitly. The adjustment has been hard for him. Erwin feels they are finally making progress again.
BEFORE
Erwin spent the first few months after the Armistice negotiating with their former enemies, dreaming about the future, and fucking Levi on top of every available surface. After two years of being mostly separated, with bouts of reunion every couple months or so, their couplings were nothing short of animalistic.
Erwin had been in heaven, truly. They had won. He had won — had really done it. Everything seemed possible. He spoke of his most grand plans for their little island, their big world — all while doing the most filthy acts imaginable to his Captain. If Levi didn’t like Erwin’s admittedly self-aggrandising pillow talk, well, at least he didn’t say so to his face.
“I’m going to give you everything. Everything you want. So what do you want?” He had asked Levi once. They were in the Governor’s Suite of some outrageous hotel in Mikeltya, had been shacked up there for a few days during a round of Reconciliation meetings.
“What?” Levi had heaved back. He wasn’t listening, pretty preoccupied with Erwin’s face in his ass. He pulled up on his elbows, looked down at Erwin incredulously, pushed his sweaty bangs out of his face. “Huh? What the fuck. Why’d you stop?”
“I said,” and Erwin smirked up at him, took his thumb and rubbed tight, firm circles on his perineum. Levi moaned loud — “ Oh, oh, ” flopping back down on the bed, strings cut, writhing in frustration. “Oh fuck — please,” he croaked. God. Erwin hoped the walls in this hotel were thick, to spare the ears of all the foreign dignitaries similarly stationed in the rooms around them. Although, truthfully, a part of him didn’t really mind if they heard. Many of them had tried to recruit his Captain at some point or another during the war. Erwin wanted them to know exactly where Levi’s loyalties lie.
“I said,” Erwin started again, still pressing firmly. “What do you want now? You can have anything. What do you want?”
“You,” Levi admitted — groaned it, trying to squirm himself closer, further away, Erwin didn’t know. “I don’t care about that other shit. I — God. I just want you. And your tongue back in my ass,” he finished crudely. Erwin had laughed at that, kissing the inside of his thigh sweetly before giving Levi exactly what he asked for.
Levi had come all over himself that night — shuddering, wrecked. Even after, one of his legs kept shaking like a dog. Like he couldn’t help it, Erwin remembers. He didn’t even fuck him after, was too pent up for it — just kneeled over him, gripped himself, and watched Levi look up at him with adoration, with his eyes shining. It didn’t take long. It had been good.
It took almost a year post-Armistice for things to start slowing down. But they did, in time.
Even as the state of the world started to calm, Erwin was pleased to find he still had plenty to do after leaving his Commandership. He dedicated himself to writing down his recollection of the last two years (for the histories, or just for his own eyes, he wasn’t sure yet). He found the practice surprisingly cathartic. He worked behind the scenes on trade deals to get new goods to the island, helped re-organize the government into his democratic dream. Erwin was content, satisfied. Levi was increasingly, not.
Levi, at the earliest opportunity possible, had formally retired from the military, which came as no surprise to Erwin — or anyone else who knew him, really. He completed the job. He was done. As their responsibilities overseas came to a close, they bought a cottage just outside of Trost proper. They hadn’t looked at a lot of places. This one was only the second, but Erwin knew it was their new home by the look in Levi’s eye when they walked into the wide kitchen – big windows, natural light, and most importantly – a pot-filler faucet over the stovetop, sealing the deal.
Levi had nodded once, short.
“Yeah. This will do,” he said. Erwin beamed at him.
Levi adored their new home, and Erwin adored watching Levi in such a domestic setting. The novelty of it was slow to wear off. Levi decorated their space with warm, inviting colors. Erwin picked a room for his office. He requested his old desk from Survey Corps headquarters— no one else was using it, and he was, admittedly, a bit sentimental about the old thing. It now sat in a room downstairs, after Erwin and Levi (mostly Levi) lugged the massive hunk of wood up their walkway one Sunday morning. There was a small cellar too, where Levi stored the different vegetables he experimented with pickling (with mixed results).
Erwin often had meetings in the interior, and while he always invited Levi to come along, Levi never did. He was adamant about his retirement, done with public life. The adoration from strangers, while at worst an uncomfortable oddity before the war, seemed almost unbearable for him after it. The few times he had gone after the Armistice, Levi had become so wired that it led to him screaming at Erwin — and on one occasion, a near fist fight. That had been bad. Levi had been apologetic. Erwin didn’t push it now, understanding.
At first, his long list of things to do around the house distracted him enough, and Levi did not seem so lonely when Erwin was away. But eventually, their home was spotless, their rooms filled with their favorite things, their plants outside watered and trimmed, and Levi did indeed find himself alone.
He had been so restless — too much energy in such a small body. After an entire lifetime of running, Levi had finally crashed headfirst into a brick wall of peace time. Erwin could tell that he wasn’t coping well with it. That he had no idea what to do with it. Had never once experienced it. At least Erwin had the relatively calm years of childhood, murdered father notwithstanding.
Levi started sleeping less and less, even when Erwin was there. The sleep he did get was fitful — moaning and kicking. His hands got more raw, more red, every time Erwin came home. The skin of his cuticles was brittle and bloodied, until he didn’t have any cuticles at all.
Erwin was desperate to help, but Levi brushed him aside. He would acknowledge he was having a difficult time, at least, but insisted it would pass on its own. It did not. By the time Erwin arrived back home after a week overseas, and found Levi missing half of his pinky nail, he felt entirely hopeless.
“Have you looked for something? Maybe a job?” Erwin finally blustered that same afternoon, after dinner, unable to help it. Levi stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t mean — I didn’t mean it like that,” Erwin tried again, uncharacteristically on the back foot. “Levi. I know this hasn’t been the easiest for you — listen to me — ” Levi scoffed, but Erwin pressed. “I think you need something outside the house, is all. You need an outlet, perhaps. You’ve always had one, yes? And now you don’t.”
He was fidgeting with his hands again, picking at skin that was long gone. Erwin wanted to grab him and make it stop.
“I hate seeing you like this, Levi. Darling. It hurts me,” he tried.
Levi looked out the window, out at the patio, at his neatly potted plants.
“Maybe,” he replied after a time.
“Well,” Erwin said. “What would you like to do?”
“I don’t know,” Levi said, suddenly sounding very tired. He slumped in his seat, looking up at the ceiling, up at nothing. He pulled at the hangnail on his thumb. Erwin watched it bleed. “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be around. Live with. You’ve found your way, and I’m just — I’m not like that. I’m not like you. I don’t know what I want. What I’m good at, without hurting people.” He looked deflated. Erwin felt a lump in his throat. He swallowed, trying to send it back.
“That’s not true. You don’t just hurt people,” he protested.
“Historically, it has been true.”
“It was your job. I made you. I – nevermind,” he stopped. No, they were going off track, falling dangerously close to a well-worn argument. “You could volunteer somewhere,” he suggested instead. “A lot of people still need help. I’m sure any place would love to have you.”
“Mm.” Levi grumbled, stalling. He looked down at his injured thumb, frowned, wiped at the dried blood there.
Erwin persisted. “Have you been to the orphanage down on Beckett street? I think it’s called St. Helen’s. I know you used to spend a lot of time at the one in the Capitol. The one Historia runs. You seemed to like it.”
“I don’t like brats,” he countered.
“Well that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. You already have several of them, and they are all begging for you to come visit. They write to you every week.”
“Ha. Funny,” Levi replied. He put his hands down, finally stopped picking at himself. He sighed, long and low.
And then, he was seemingly done with the conversation, as mercurial as ever. He hoisted his leg up into Erwin’s chair, in between his legs.
“Okay,“ he acquiesced. ”Yeah, maybe I’ll go see if I like it. Being a good samaritan and all that. Make an honest man out of me, or whatever. I’ve got one request though.” He pressed his foot in gently, teasing, his face suddenly wry. God, it really had been a long week away. Erwin was so very happy to be home.
“Good. I’m glad. But I don’t think that’s exactly how that term is used, dear. You’re definitely not an honest man,” Erwin grinned back, relieved at the change of pace, the breakthrough. He grabbed Levi’s ankle, holding his foot in place, pressing in.
“What about my request?”
“Hm?” Erwin grunted, distracted, grinding himself shamelessly on Levi’s boot. He was already half-hard. Damn. How did Levi, Levi make everything —
“I said I’ll go. I just need you to do something for me first.” Levi sounded breathless, although he hadn’t done a single thing except put his shoe up for Erwin to rut against like a damn animal.
“Anything, anything at all.”
“Come upstairs.” Despite the heat, the arousal, his eyes were warm and kind. And Erwin was in love. “I bought something while you were away.”