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Chapter Text

4 Years Post Rumbling – Marley


He hears the loud bang in his dream, it’s hard to decipher what’s real and what’s fake when he’s in between rest and waking. A flash of white lightning behind his eyelids, the pounding of hooves on wet mud and thundering steps of bumbling, steaming beasts consume his mind. There’s another bang, waking him quickly. His breathing is frantic as he sits up in bed and the sheets pool at his waist. His bare chest, scarred and mangled tingles with goosebumps from the cold air coming in through the cracked bedroom window.

“You idiot! Levi’s prolly still sleeping!” Gabi’s voice travels through the room, distant but always distinct.

Falco groans, likely from a slap to the back of the head. “Sorry, Levi!” The kind boy calls out. Levi doesn’t answer, just tries to right his breathing as his gaze falls to the window where the sun has already risen. He can’t see the kids but they’re obviously working on their house, grabbing wood from the nearby barn.

He takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes and regretting it the moment the images flash behind them again. Brightly colored flares, the whizzing of ODM gear, bloody capes and the calls of his squad mates. His eyes shoot open and he feels the exhaustion seeping back in, nothing he does staves it off for long like it’s been carved deep in his bones. He swings his good leg off of the side of the bed, throwing back the covers, he uses his hand to push his injured left leg over, it still feels too stiff from sleep and underuse.

With another sigh, he reaches for the black and gold cane leaning against his bedside table but his vision deceives him, the distance doesn’t match, his ring and pinky finger push the cane forward instead of grasping it, where it slides onto the wooden floor with a loud thud.

“Shit.” Levi’s voice is heavy with sleep, his throat is dry and he wants nothing more than to brush his teeth and go downstairs to eat breakfast, drink his tea to unwind from fitful sleep but now he has to deal with this. His body betraying him over the simplest task–picking up his fucking cane. He can walk small distances without it, he could probably make it to the bathroom if he really wanted to but it would hurt like a bitch and the last thing he needs is to be in excruciating pain for the rest of the day.

His hands, his eyes, his legs. It’s been four years and they are hurdles he just can’t seem to adjust to, this ‘new normal’ everyone seems so keen on. Anger grips him as he shuffles off the bed and onto the cold, unforgiving floor, kneeling with all of his weight on his right leg. He reaches for the cane, grasping it this time with his left hand, all five fingers and all of his strength as he pushes himself upright with a grunt. He thinks it shouldn’t be this hard to just get out of bed but soon retracts that, after everything they’ve gone through, everything he hasn’t been able to accomplish, the mission he wasn’t able to complete, maybe this is just so.

Levi makes it to the bathroom, running the hot water and washing his face under it as he rests his cane under his armpit to hold him up. The water feels nice, warming his cold fingers and the aching, tight scar that lines his face. He glances in the mirror, his hair isn’t due for a trim for another week or so. Still in the same undercut style as it’s always been, he doesn’t like change, doesn’t think he needs it. Levi runs his hands through it a couple of times, brushing his bangs back from his eyes, one milky one, the other one silver and dull. His dark circles are terrible, his cheeks aren’t as round as they once were–a sign he should probably be eating more but he just can’t bring himself to stand and cook for very long.

Everything is tiring, too tiring. It takes too much energy to do the simplest of things like cooking dinner or taking showers. They’re not things he’ll neglect, he would never do that but he doesn’t find joy in them like he once did. He’s taking them for granted, he knows that. Those little luxuries of home cooked meals and instant hot water. If Isabel and Furlan heard the way he bitched and moaned to Falco about needing a hot water heater, he’d never hear the end of it.

He finishes his morning routine, his life has become a series of routines. He needs them now, if he doesn’t have them–he has nothing. He’s aimless, floating from task to task without purpose and he still doesn’t have purpose but with a set schedule he at least feels like his day is filled with something other than him just moping about. The orphanage also helps with that, though Gabi thought it would be too much for him, he begs to differ.

He makes it down the hall and into the kitchen, setting his tea kettle on the stove to boil. He eyes the stack of growing mail on his table, they’re all from the remaining 104th–the Ambassadors. He just can’t stomach reading them right now, he’d opened one or two when he’d first settled in Marley. The group talked about their travels, their homes, sometimes they talked about their feelings and asked how Levi was doing–he didn’t know how to respond. That’s why he chose to stay here, to move out here to the middle of nowhere. He needed to get away from it all, from everything that reminded him of…it. Does that make him selfish? Maybe. Or maybe he’s deserving of being alone with his guilt, with his failure. They don’t need to see him like this and he doesn’t want them to.

The kettle starts to whistle and he pours himself a cup of tea, opting to take a seat in the living room near the fireplace. The curtains are open, the sun streaming in to heat the room. Gabi helped pick the colors, white and the faintest mint green. She said it ‘suited him’ whatever that means. He’d really like to sit on the porch but he’s not in the mood to interact with the kids just yet, to put on a brave face and make conversation–though they’d understand if he didn’t do either of those things. That’s why he chose to stay with them, to move out to this piece of land.

He wanted to live further out but Gabi insisted they live closer to town ‘in case of emergencies’. So, they made a compromise. They’re about a thirty-minute drive from the market, from the city and everything they need but out here it's quiet and Levi can live in the solitude he asked for. They tended a farm in the middle of their two houses, which Falco and Onyankopon built while Levi and Gabi focused on the farming and gardening. He’s grateful to have his own house, he insisted they didn’t have to do that but they wanted him to have his own space and for the first time he finally does. One he doesn’t share with anyone else–it was hard to get used to at first but now he isn’t sure he could share the space with another.

He’s grateful to have Gabi and Falco to share this land with, to share his spare time with. Gabi reminds him so much of Eren, their mannerisms, her loud voice and uncontainable energy. It’s like Eren once was, when he was young and full of spiteful determination. They both care for Levi, he isn’t blind to that—emotionally and physically. On days he’s too tired, his legs give out from under him and Falco is always right there to catch him, to help him into his wheelchair, to push him when his arms are sore. There are some days where he simply wakes up too tired and he has to call for them from his bedroom window, days where he feels extremely vulnerable, and Falco aids him in his chair around the house, Gabi cooks his meals and lights the fire. They spend their time here, caring for a man too old to be cared for when they should be out, enjoying themselves.

But they never complain, always asking Levi to tell stories about his childhood or his life in the Corps. They have no predisposed thoughts about the Underground, they just want to listen to an old man talk about his life–a life shrouded in mystery and shame. They listen intently, always asking questions and reacting like they’re watching one of those picture shows they started putting on in the city. It makes Levi roll his eyes but if telling them about his life makes them happy then, it’s the least he can do to repay them for everything they do.

The kids are both sixteen now, living in their own two story house across the farm and Levi couldn’t be more proud of them. He just wishes they had more time to be kids, but really none of them had the time. He wouldn’t have wished his or their life on anyone and yet here they are, both suffering from the same fate. Levi wants to change that and that’s what the orphanage is for–for the kids whose families were lost during The Rumbling. He’ll allow them to act like children, to play and explore without the fear of war and death, without the fear of their next meal and if their brother or sister will live to see the next morning.

Gabi thought it would be too taxing on him but he needed something to do, he needed somewhere to put what little energy he had left. He needed somewhere to focus the overwhelming feeling that he’s never doing enough and that nothing he will do will ever be enough to make up for what he hasn’t completed, to make up for what has been done. Something needs to be done for these children or they will be forgotten and left behind–so, he will be the one to do it.

It started out small with the help of Onyankopon. He helps run things when Levi isn’t there, he’s young and capable. Levi finds that he runs a tight ship, he’s efficient and Levi trusts him implicitly, just as Hange had. At the end of the war, the government had paid them all handsomely to settle down somewhere and shut up–keep to themselves and to not stir up any trouble. Levi wanted to refuse but figured the money could go towards something good, so, this is where he invested it. It keeps the children fed, clothed and happy. It keeps Levi fed, clothed and his medical bills paid for.

There’s a soft knock on his door, startling him from his thoughts–a loop he gets stuck in quite frequently these days and despises the fact that people can now sneak up on him. He calls out for them to come in knowing that it can be one of three people. The kids enter the house, minding to wipe their feet on the mat before they walk on the shined floors.

“Afternoon, oldman. We’re headed to the market, you comin’?” Gabi says, swinging her wicker basket on her arm as she takes a seat on the sofa. Afternoon–already?

“You should join us. You haven’t been out of the house properly in days and we’ve been starting to get a little worried about you…” Falco trails off, always starting strong and withering away towards the end, never liking to stir the pot or be the one to put his foot down even if he means well. Levi is trying to get him to stand up for himself, especially to Gabi.

They’re right, he hasn’t been out of the house in days, not even to visit the orphanage, stewing in his own guilt.

“It seems I don’t have a choice.” He says back to them, taking a drink of his now room temperature tea.

“Nope! You don’t!” Gabi hops up, heading towards the door.

Levi rolls his eyes as Falco comes over to hand him his cane, always a gentleman.

“We’ll take it slow and just let us know when you want to head back, okay?” Falco says to him as they walk to the kitchen together. Levi dumps the rest of his tea into the sink, rinsing out his cup and laying it upside down in the rack.

“Alright, Grice.” Levi reaches for his black cardigan hanging over his dining room chair, Falco holds his cane while he slips it over his white button up. It matches with his black cotton slacks, cuffed at the bottom and his black slip on loafers. He doesn’t do laces, not with his missing fingers and the shakes he gets.

Falco passes back his cane and Levi slips his wallet into his back pocket.

“Come on you too! We’re burning daylight, you know!” Gabi is rocking from heel to toe at the door, it’s already open letting in the cool air.

“I have to grab his wheelchair, Gabs.” Falco speaks over his shoulder as he heads to Levi’s bedroom. Levi shoots him a look that the boy doesn’t see but he knows Levi well enough to know his objection to it regardless. “Just in case. We’ll leave it in the car and if you need it, I’ll run to grab it.” He carries it, folded in half, in one arm. Levi had an older one when he first moved to Marley but after several doctors appointments and once the city was rebuilt, he was able to use some of the money from the government, he purchased something a little more sleek–one that fit his needs better.

This one is far more comfortable with cushioned leather instead of wood for a seat, the grips on the wheels stick out a little farther and are covered with leather instead of metal so his fingers don’t hurt as bad when he’s pushing himself. He thought it was a little self indulgent but both the doctor and the kids insisted he did it–did one thing for himself to make things more comfortable, even if he didn’t use it as often as they’d like him to.

They climb into Falco’s car, an enclosed one with a large trunk for Levi’s chair. It’s a nice day out, a little windy but otherwise the sky is clear and the sun is out. Gabi talks Levi’s ear off the entire thirty minutes and he’s not surprised, it’s how things usually go and he just nods, listening to her speak about their house warming party coming up. She’s very excited because she’s excitable, that’s just how she is and Levi wouldn’t change her.



He hates to admit that getting out of the house has been nice. The market is bustling and though, people stare whether it's due to his scaring or because of who he is as a person, he continues on, from stall to stall with the kids by his side. He purchases some more tea, a new book about the constellations–one that reminds him of a book Erwin had hidden away in his office. He also buys himself a pair of new gardening gloves, they’re small and fit his hands quite well–he’ll have to cut and sew the first two fingers off of the right hand but that’s to be expected.

The last stop on his list is a bakery just up the street. He hasn’t been in, in quite a while, so, while the kids pick up a few more items for their house, he heads towards the building, paper bag hanging off of his arm, cane in hand.

He picks out a blueberry muffin and loaf of sourdough bread. The woman behind the counter recognizes him, as most usually do, something he wishes he could avoid but hasn’t figured out how to. She tries to give him the goods for free and Levi refuses, he has the money, he can pay for it. He hasn’t done anything to deserve things to just be handed to him.

He lays the money on the counter, his body leaning on his cane. He huffs with a confused look on his face. The bell chimes behind him signaling someone else has entered and would like to order, he’d like to wrap this up as soon as possible.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done, sir.” She says to him anyway and heads start to turn in his direction, making him uncomfortable under their watchful gazes. He sighs loudly, nodding once and sliding the items into his bag.

He turns around, heading towards the door and that’s when he almost runs right into him.

Zeke stands tall, directly in front of the doorway, Levi’s exit. He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there but if he came in when the bell had chimed then he’d seen the awkward interaction with the counter woman and that makes Levi’s body hot–that clammy heat radiating to his hands as he tries to maintain the hold of his cane and the full bag of goods.

Levi’s face is contorted in disgust, his lip curled upward, his eyebrows scrunched together as he takes in the disheveled blonde man before him. He’s upset and getting increasingly more-so because the motherfucker won’t move. His heart is starting to pound in his chest, the feeling of being trapped–boxed in is making him start to panic. He shouldn’t have come out today especially after the events of this morning and now he’s stood here staring at the reason he feels so inadequate, at the reason he feels so incomplete–incompetent–the one mission he couldn’t finish and the fucker is standing here like a monolith, mocking him for the whole world to see–just like he did that very day.

It all comes flooding back to him, as they stand there, staring at each other in the middle of this Marleyan bakery. Levi’s mind is racing, every thought from his past with Zeke resurfacing, rearing its ugly head as he tries to suppress his urge to run, the urge to scream out, lash out and attack the man in front of him like he would have all those years ago. He is not a coward, but today he feels like one–these last four years–he has felt like one.

He takes a long and shaky breath as he steps forward, his cane clicking on the tile floor.

“Excuse me.” Levi says, quiet and barely there as he steps around Zeke’s body and out of the door. He frantically limps down the two steps and onto the uneven brick. It’s hard for him to keep his balance, eyes watch him as he speed walks as fast as he can to the town square, his leg is starting to cramp under his weight and the strain from his speed, something it’s not used to. He just wants to get home, and he wants to get home now.

His mind is still in shock, flashing images of his past behind his eyes; Erwin’s bloody stomach, the damn syringe, Zeke’s face in the forest, his comrades turned inhuman. His body starts to give out as he begins to collapse in front of the market-goers but Falco is right there–always there to catch him. He slides his arm under Levi’s, scooping him up and leaning Levi’s weight onto him without hesitation.

“I’ve got you, Levi. Come on.” He speaks soft and kind in Levi’s ear but his mind is trying to pull him in, to separate him from the outside world. Gabi is by his side, grabbing the paper bag and helping them to the car.

Before he knows it, he’s sat inside of it and they’re on the road, his head resting against the cool window as they drive in silence. He feels catatonic as the road noise envelopes him. Levi’s mind wanders then, to the time in the forest, Zeke’s hands searing hot on his cool body, the trees quietly creaking around them. The tension was high, they had to be quiet in fear of getting caught, in fear of Levi’s comrades finding out. His stomach turns in a different way at the thought of it–he’s lonely and he doesn’t want to admit that either–another thing he flaws himself for.

He deserves the loneliness that comes with his ex-title. It’s how he repays his debt–his debt to his fallen friends.

The reminder of his failure sends him spiraling, thinking it's almost a good thing he saw Zeke today, maybe he deserved that too. He was getting too comfortable in his nice house, on his growing farm with his chosen family while his friends and loved ones have suffered and died at his hands.

It was a reminder.

Over the time he’s spent ruminating on his past and lost inside of his mind, they’ve made it home and Falco is holding the car door open for him with his sympathetic face and a helping hand. They settle him safely in his house, he sits on his sofa with the fire going, the only light and source of heat in the room and as the kids stand at the door they ask one last question before they leave.

“Do you need anything else?” Gabi’s voice is low, a quiet tone for her and it’s rare. She doesn’t want to disturb him after the very obviously rough day he’s had and whether they saw Zeke at the market or not, he doesn’t know, but they can usually put two and two together.

“No. Thank you.” He’s quiet to match, the popping of the fire could easily cover his soft words but they hear him, nodding solemnly and heading out the door.

Levi lays down on the couch, curling in on himself until he’s as tight as his weakened muscles will allow him to be and he lays like that until he succumbs to sleep. 

Chapter Text

Pieck had asked him, not-so-nicely, to pick up her pastry order from the nearby bakery. Zeke agreed and that’s where he’s headed now.

Zeke despises the public; being recognized as much as any other Ex-Warrior does that to you. They’re treated kindly, mostly. People have come to the understanding that the children didn’t have much of a choice at the time, it was either ‘choose to suffer by the hands of their government willingly’ or…’choose to suffer by the hands of their government unwillingly’. It’s his old ideology that makes him stand out from the rest, that makes people eye him just a tad bit longer, some are even so bold as to ask him to leave their establishments and does he blame them? Not at all.

There’s always a chilling unease when people realize who he is, who his brother was. He much rather stay holed up in his apartment, reading or studying, not that he does much of that these days anyway. He tries his best to keep his mind busy but he just ends up drinking too much, to the point where he passes out on any open surface, chain smokes until his throat burns and his head feels filled with static. He’s scared both Pieck and Reiner with his drinking habits more than once; not waking from his stupor until they’ve thrown him in the cold shower, dark circles so deep you’d think he hadn’t slept for weeks when in reality it’s all he fucking does.

They try their best to get him out of the apartment, to get him outside and into the real world as much as he fights it. Always arguing that he needs more sunlight, he needs to interact with people. He tries to listen to them–he really does–but when it feels like the whole world hates you, and rightfully so, it’s hard to want to step out of the one space you feel safe in, the one space you feel unseen in.

There’s just not much use for him anymore. The government doesn’t trust him, gave him a large sum of money to lay low and keep his mouth shut about his ‘out of touch’ ideas that he no longer subscribes to. He doesn’t subscribe to anything anymore. He’s god damn listless.

So, yes, when Pieck suggests he goes and picks up some items for her, he just does because she’s obviously trying to get him out of the house and he’s trying his hardest to not be a shit friend like he’s being a shit citizen–a shit person. It’s the least he can do for her, given she just spent her last day off cleaning his entire apartment and filling his fridge with ‘real food’ and he’s grateful for her, grateful to have someone who genuinely cares for him. He’s trying to show he cares, he doesn’t know how–wasn’t raised to show how–but he’s trying.

Zeke stumbles through the market, shoulders slumped forward as if trying to make himself smaller. It’s hard to make a six foot man appear smaller, but he can’t help himself as wandering eyes stare in his direction. His clothing is a size too big, definite weight loss from a lack of eating, lack of motivation to stay fit or even go for a walk. He’s wearing a dark brown button up, tucked into black slacks and neither have been ironed, letting the wrinkles and size make him look unkept and a little sloppy. He just can’t bring himself to purchase anything new. He’s not in the mood to try things on or even guess his size for that matter.

His beard has grown out some, he hasn’t brushed it or washed his face today and he could use a haircut. The dark blonde ends are starting to curl around his ears and the nape of his neck.

He didn’t used to have to try so hard to maintain a physique, it was just a granted with a titan stewing inside of you. Everything came easier; lifting, running, breathing. Once it was stripped from him, as much as it was a relief, it was also another hurdle–one he’s yet to try and climb over.

People side eye him, whisper to one another and some even nod or point in his direction as he passes by. He tries not to pay attention as he flicks the end of his cigarette on the ground, stamping it out with his scuffed brown loafer. He presses forward, grabbing the handle of the bakery door and pulling it open, the chime above dings, alerting all of the occupants of his arrival and he lets out a small sigh.

Zeke remembers his manners, always tries to be kind, never wanting to give them another reason to kick him out or dislike him, especially if he has a task to be done. He wipes his shoes on the mat when he suddenly hears a familiar gruff voice.

It paralyzes him, locking him to the spot in front of the door.

Zeke knew Levi had moved here, he had heard it from just about everyone including Gabi herself. They’ve visited him on multiple occasions, even written to him from their little farm house, telling him all about their simple life with that Ex-Captain. He’d almost thought they’d never run into each other, but that was foolish, wasn’t it? As much as they both despise being in public, how reclusive they both tend to be, it was bound to happen eventually.

He watches as Levi declines the woman’s offer of free food and forces the coins into her hand with a low grunt–as cheerful as always–the thought of the grumpy Captain, being as he always is, makes Zeke want to smile to himself.

Levi turns just then and the second he lays those silver, piercing eyes on Zeke, something in his face changes. There’s a look of deep sadness behind his gunmetal eyes, one he tries to mask but years of them both being in solitude has stripped away their ability to do that so easily. He can’t hide it as well as he had when they had spent their time in the forest together, feigning annoyance and severity.

He just looks–upset, like his legs will give out at any moment and all Zeke wants to do is reach out. All he’s ever wanted to do is reach out–to touch.

He was allowed that salvation once, a long time ago, but now with that look of terror on Levi’s face, the churn of guilt in Zeke’s gut, he knows this is as close as they’ll ever get.

Levi blinks as if willing his mind to work, his eyes to see, and Zeke just continues to watch, fully enamored by the short, shaking man in front of him, almost like a spectre in the night. Levi limps forward, just barely pushing past him while muttering a soft and almost whimpered “Excuse me.” that sends a shiver up Zeke’s spine–so reminiscent of the way he’d whispered Zeke’s name in the heated silence of their tent.

Zeke stays standing in that spot, his head turned over his shoulder as he watches Levi in the square. Falco running out to catch the falling, shaking man, guiding them away from watching eyes and that gnawing guilt creeps into every pore, every limb. He didn’t mean to startle Levi, didn’t want his mind to drag him back to those places that both of them want to ignore. It’s proof that he’s just a solemn reminder to people, a reminder of a past that they don’t want to see and he’s better off staying home–unseen.

Seeing Levi’s face, the emotions, the scarring. They’re Zeke’s fault and Zeke’s fault alone. He is the one to blame for the man's pain and daily suffering, yet he wasn’t fully faced with it until today. He shouldn’t have come out today, shouldn’t have ever left that apartment–

“Excuse me, sir? Did you need help?” The woman behind the counter startles him as her voice carries through the bakery. He was lost in thought, just as Levi had been moments ago.

Zeke shakes his head, stepping forward to the counter. “Pick up–for Finger.” His throat is abnormally raw and desperately dry as he croaks out the words.

“Coming right up.” She smiles awkwardly, looking him up and down before going into the back and re-emerging with a brown paper bag filled to the brim, one similar to Levi’s. He sighs to himself before grabbing the bag from the woman and nodding a ‘thank you’, just wanting to exit as quickly as he can.

He leaves the bakery and marches through the market with intent, heading back to his apartment. His eyes flit across faces, hoping and–not hoping–to see that familiar black hair and short stature. It’s almost haunting him now, the image of Levi after four years, softened around the edges but still hard and sharp across his features. He’s just as beautiful as the first day Zeke had seen him, becoming obsessed with the idea of him, just as everyone does.

Zeke makes it back to his apartment in record time, stumbling up the stairs and pushing the door open with ease–he must have forgotten to lock it when he left, a habit he needs to break. He places the bag on the counter, almost crushing it as he fumbles frantically along the counter, looking for his glass. He snatches it up, groping his almost empty bottle of whiskey as he pops the top and pours the rest, bringing it to his lips with moan.

He wanders to the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed, the glass falling to the carpeted floor with a thud. He feels bad, he usually feels bad.

His eyes start to close and his mind drifts to Levi’s fearful face, his eyes and the soft wrinkles at the corners. The way Zeke wants to smooth them with his thumbs, the way he wants to run his hands over Levi’s body, the feeling of every soft and rigid scar across his fingertips. Their bodies moving together in the darkness of the tent, Levi’s lithe form on top of his–his hands on Levi’s hips and Levi’s resting on Zeke’s shoulders for leverage. He can see the Captain’s blissful face, his head tilted back in ecstasy, his eyes squinting shut, thin black brows drawn together in pleasure.

Zeke moves his hand to his waist band, pushing his hand underneath the fabric to free his already aching cock. He pulls himself out, rubbing his thumb over his engorged head, spreading the precum down his shaft. The feeling makes him hiss through his teeth.

He can still hear Levi’s sweet moans in his ear, his breathy “Zeke” or “Fuck” as he continues to tug on himself, base to tip and it takes his breath away. The roll of Levi’s small hips, the way Zeke’s fingertips could touch when fit around the man’s waist, has him already cumming into his palm. It’s hot and sticky–it’s full of guilt and regret.

The drink and the orgasm make his head feel dizzy and this isn’t the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s seen Levi and thought about him immediately after, thought about his saddened eyes and scarred hands.

He hears Pieck enter the apartment in the distance, either from her spare key or him forgetting to lock the door again. The bag crinkles and soon something hits his chest, his soft dick still resting against the outside of his pants–pathetic.

“Bad day?” Her quiet, airy voice sounds loud in the deafening silence of the room, in the overwhelming shame that seems to suffocate him.

He reaches for the pastry on his chest, taking a bite of–a chocolate donut. The first thing, he realizes, he’s eaten all day.

“Something like that.” He replies, staring straight ahead at the ceiling, unblinking.

“Well, get up. Reiner is going to meet us for dinner.” Pieck tries to sound firm but honestly? He doesn’t care. He’s had enough of today, enough of leaving, enough of prying eyes and gossiping townspeople–enough of himself. When he doesn’t respond she lets out a long sigh, he can tell she has a hand on her hip, likely in her regular pencil skirt and suit jacket set that she wears to work.

Suddenly, he’s hefted from the bed and thrown into the bathroom, stumbling with the small woman next to him. She tosses him into the tub, clothes and all, cock still out and embarrassingly soft as she turns on the water–cold–of course.

Zeke gasps like he’s shocked back to life.

“Fuck!” He yells out in the small tiled bathroom, his rasping voice bouncing off the walls. He’ll likely get a complaint about that later.

She shuts the faucet off with one swift motion and starts in on him as he lays there, soaked, shaking and tucking himself back into his pants in shame.

“Alright, Zeke. We’ve had enough, I’ve had enough. It’s time to get your shit together. It’s been four years–four hard fucking years and we’ve all been through the damn wringer but we’ve been trying and now it’s time for you to try.” Her hair is down, curled inward and soft at the ends, it’s classic and beautiful even as she raises her voice at him. “Life is hard, we’ve all had it hard. We’re all treated differently out there but what about that has really changed? Reiner and Falco might be pissed at me for doing this to you but it needs to be done, Zeke. You were better than this, you can be better than this. You deserve better than this.” She’s out of breath by the end but she corrects her posture–something she’s been working on–and straightens her clothes, holding a hand out for him.

He lays there for a moment more, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he takes in everything his closest friend has just said to him. Does he deserve better? He was better once but in what way?

She helps him out of the shower and into dry clothes, taking a seat on the couch in front of the fireplace that she’s started to light.

“I’ll have to tell Reiner why we stood him up.” She jests lightly, taking a seat back down on the couch, kicking her shined shoes off and curling her feet underneath her.

“I’m sorry for keeping you.” He apologizes and he is sorry–sorry for more than just this.

“Eh. He’ll be fine.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, unwinding and listening to the fire crackle and pop.

“You could come work with me, you know? At the library. It’s quiet and monotonous…a lot of people though.” She stares straight ahead, watching the flames dance. They color her different shades of red and orange, making her already hooked nose look even sharper.

“Yeah–I’m not sure that’s right for me. As much as I like books and the like.” He responds just as quiet as her, matching her tone but his rough and raspy vocals don’t sound as pretty.

“You could travel? Use that money our shitty government shoved in our pockets.” She’s truly trying to help and he’s grateful for that. He does need something to do, something to busy himself and make him feel useful again–like he’s needed.

“I’m not sure boats, planes or anything of the sort would be a very good reminder for me if I’m being honest…” They’d be too much of a constant remembrance of his time as a Warrior, his time as the Beast, his time in the middle of a war-torn country. He wants to stay here, where he’s as comfortable as he can get, even if the people here don’t want him around. He can at least get to his work–whatever it’ll be–and get back to the solitude of his home.

“Okay…What about that orphanage? The one Onyankopon works at? He’s always talking about how they need help, able bodies and working hands. You have those things.” She says, pointing a finger to his chest playfully.

She’s right, he does have those things and it would be good for him to do some manual labor. Being around children might be nice, as ironic as that sounds for someone like him. They won’t judge him for what he’s done–for what he’s said. They probably don’t even know who he is for that matter.

“That actually doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.” He says back to her, letting out a small laugh as he reaches for his cigarettes, passing her one as they light up, leaning back against the couch.

“So, it’s settled then–I’ll tell Onyan in the morning.” Pieck says in an exhale, smoke leaving her lips.

“Damn, you really want me out of this apartment.”

“Yes–I fucking do.”

She stands, cigarette perched between her thin fingers. He followers her to the door where she slides on her black trench coat and slings her leather purse over her shoulder–like a regular civilian.

Pieck reaches out for him, her arms looping around his chest and clasping behind his back. He’s taken aback at first–this is not something they normally do. It takes him a moment, the breath caught in his throat but he eventually wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Her body is warm and soft, her shoulders are sharp but she smells nice–earthy and of the cigarettes they’re smoking. They stand like that for a while and he doesn’t count how long, he doesn’t mind it–didn’t realize how much he was craving it–human contact.

But after she pulls away and gives him a small smile and a tentative wave, pulling the door shut behind her–he’s left with himself again and that overwhelming emptiness–the feeling of being the same–just like before. 

Chapter Text

It’s the day of Gabi’s house warming and she’s invited everyone in the goddamn town to their property.

It’s the first time she’ll be having guests over and technically the first time Levi will be having guests over even if he won’t be allowing them inside of his house. But, Gabi deserves to show off her beautiful home–a home she and Falco built with their own two hands– and with the help of Onyankopon –Levi is proud of them.

She’s spent the last week preparing, giving Falco orders with which he’s dutifully fulfilled, running to and from the market all hours of the day for whatever she needs. He’s seen her roaming across the field, ending up on his front porch more often in the last week than she has in the last four years to ask him a plethora of questions; Does he have any sugar? Does he like the choice of lace tablecloth she chose? Can he help her iron their outfits and mend the cushions? He can do all of those things, he has all of those things and he’s happy to be of help to her–happy to be needed by her instead of the other way around.

He’s escaped her constant but loving babbling for the day by busying himself at the orphanage. The kids have already finished lunch and are playing in the fenced green pasture outside while Levi picks up their dishes, tucking them under his arm and balancing them in his left hand, his right resting on top of his cane.

Onyan comes around the corner of the building carrying some lumber, his pale pink button up is sticking to his dark skin, his sleeves are half rolled up, exposing his glistening forearms. The man startles Levi, not meaning to, of course. He’s upset with himself that he’s become so soft that simple things like a person coming around a corner can give him a start, he doesn’t even hear them.

Maybe he should start working out again, doing the physical therapy the Marleyan doctor had recommended when he first started seeing him–Levi just didn’t trust him–didn’t trust any doctor that wasn’t Hange.

Onyan follows Levi into the building, holding the door open for him but never offering to take any of the dishes from his hands, knowing better than to do so. Levi sets them into the sink, running the water until it gets hot.

“Someone stopped by asking for a job today.” Onyan starts, no preamble or beating around the bush and that’s how Levi likes it. His tall form is leaning against the doorframe–one he also built.

“We need the help. I hope they were strong and competent–though we could find a job for someone who isn’t, I suppose.” Levi retorts as he starts to scrub at the dishes.

“It was Zeke.” Onyan’s honeyed tone hits him like a train. Levi drops a plate, porcelain clanging against metal as he leans forward, bracing himself against the counter. “I knew you wouldn’t like it but, yes , we do need the help and he’s good for it. He’s not as strong as he used to be but he looked genuine when asking for work.”

Levi doesn’t respond, he picks up the dishes and starts in again, scrubbing harder than before.

“He looks just as lost as the rest of us–struggling to get his footing–sort of like the kids here.” Onyan’s comparison makes Levi ‘ tsk ’ but he saw that same look in Zeke’s face when they ran into each other that day in the bakery– Onyan is right.

“If that’s what you think is best.” Levi says, his voice is tight and rough as it comes out of his throat, shaking slightly from the velocity of his scrubbing. Onyankopon is here far more than Levi is–if he needs the help, then so be it because Levi sure as hell can’t be the one to do it.

The inadequacy sinks in again–if he could just pick up the slack then they wouldn’t have to look for help. Zeke is always the constant thorn in Levi’s side–the underlying factor in all of his inability.

“I really do need the help, Levi. Thank you for understanding.” Onyan says before the door gets pulled open in a rush, the kids come flooding in from their outside adventure, bombarding them both with grass stained knees and rosy red cheeks.

They reach for Levi’s arms, scrambling up his legs, causing him to teter. Onyan is there to steady him quickly, telling the kids to ‘ please be careful ’ and ‘ mind their hands ’. They want their afternoon treat, the one Levi always brings when he stops by–he would never forget.

He shuts the faucet off, drying his hands on the rag before reaching into the cabinet, pulling out a crate filled with an assortment of candies. He passes out one to each of the children and they run off gleefully, wrappers crinkling and gigglings sounding off through the halls. 

Levi makes it back home with barely enough time to spare to prepare himself for Gabi's party. He stayed longer than he meant to at the orphanage. It's hard to pull himself away when the kids ask him for story after story, ask him to play games, ask him for–well, anything. He showers quickly and changes into something nice; a loose white satin button up, tucked into his ironed black slacks that he’s cuffed at the bottom, black socks in his shined black slip-on loafers. Everything is pristine and crisp. He even took the time to polish his cane, the gold handle catches the light just right.

He exits his bedroom, heading to the kitchen to grab the stew that Gabi begged him to make for her before he leaves the house and hobbles down the steps, cane clicking against the dark wood. Levi steadies himself against it as best he can, taking a deep breath. He’s got that feeling in his chest, the shaky feeling in his limbs that he used to get when Erwin would take him to those noble parties, flaunting him around, fake smiles and terrible outfits.

This time he has no one to lean on, no one to guide him, no one to talk shit with in the dark corners of the room.

He’s on his own–but for Gabi, he will endure anything. He’s overreacting, of course. It’s just Gabi, Falco and everyone else he knows–and they know him. It’s nothing new but the thought of interacting and doing so in such an intimate environment where he can’t just slip away unnoticed makes his skin crawl.

It takes him several minutes to cross their farm, walking along the dirt path until he reaches their porch. It’s freshly painted and their two story house stands gorgeously tall–white and pastel blue. The door is wide open, the sheer white curtains behind the windows are open, letting out the yellow-warm glow from within. The voices inside are loud and he isn’t sure he’s ready to be stuck sitting in that for the next, who-knows-how-long.

He stands watching for a moment, readying himself to enter when Onyankopon comes up on his left–Levi hears him this time, the crunch of his shoes on the light gravel and dirt. The tall man reaches forward, taking the pot from under Levi’s arm without asking. Levi makes a face, scrunching his eyebrows together as he looks up at Onyan’s soft smile. He’s got his arm out now, elbow ready for Levi to take–so, he does, intertwining their arms together with a stubborn huff.

“You don’t have to do this.” Levi says quietly as they take small steps towards the stairs. “I’m not some–some fucking–maiden, you know.”

“Never said you were.” Onyan answers in a light tone, helping Levi up the steps with ease. They make it into the house, crossing the threshold where they’re greeted with soft smiles and nods. Most quiet down when Levi enters, knowing his temperament. Onyan leaves him to drop the food off in the kitchen and Gabi comes out to say hello, bright and cheerful.

She looks beautiful. Her hair is tied up with a blue ribbon to match her blue sundress. Levi had tailored it for her, taking it in at the waist when she found it at the market. She hugs him quickly and then is pulled away by some of her guests.

He walks down the hallway and to the large living room, straight to his chair in the corner of the room, sitting directly in front of the lit fireplace. Yes, his chair that Falco built with his height and knee in mind. It’s cushioned and easier for him to stand and lower himself into and he’s grateful no one else has sat in it–almost wonders if Falco told them to leave it open for him. He takes a seat, sighing at the weight being taken off of his leg.

He might have overdone it a bit today.

Falco comes over a bit later with a cup of steaming tea, something for Levi to keep his hands busy with and he thanks him. Both of the kids are busy entertaining, so he lets himself fall silent, watching the fire dance in front of him, listening to the voices of the people around him.

The atmosphere shifts when someone else arrives, he can feel it in the way everyone quiets throughout the house. Gabi’s level remains the same. He can hear her cheerful voice from the doorway, it’s muffled but she’s speaking excitedly, growing louder as she comes down the hallway toward him.

She’s accompanied by Zeke.

Levi’s breath hitches in his throat, his eyes shoot to the floor, eyebrows drawn in. His heart is starting to race and he urges it to calm by shifting his focus to the fire again, bringing the tea to his lips and letting the hot liquid soothe his tension.

He was a coward once before–he won’t be again.

He should have expected Gabi would invite him, they’re close friends and their families have been even closer since before Gabi was born. He only hopes Reiner doesn’t show up either, he doesn’t think he could handle seeing someone so closely related to his life on Paradis. This is already pushing his limits to their frayed ends.

The talking in the room picks up again, slowly, and his heart starts to beat at a normal pace.

This is the least he can do, right? Be trapped in a room with the man who maimed him, the man who taunted him and his failed mission. This is how he pays his penance. He gets to stare his failure in the face, let it mock him and his failing body, his failing mind in front of everyone he knows–everyone who knows him–knows them–what they’ve done.

“Hello, Levi.” Zeke speaks next to him–right on cue. It breaks him from his wallowing thoughts.

“Zeke.” Is all Levi can muster. It comes out stronger than it did in the bakery in his usual gravely tone, deep and rumbling but his hands betray him, shaking around the tea cup–his lack of fingers probably doesn’t help.

He doesn’t lift his eyes from the fire, even when Zeke continues to talk.

“How have you been?” He asks, standing on the left side of Levi’s chair. It comes up to his waist, Levi can see through his peripheral.

“Fine.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

They’re both lying.

An awkward silence falls between them but not any more awkward than if they were to talk with anyone else in the room.

“I–I visited the orphanage today. I asked for a job. I hope that I’m not overstepping.” Zeke sounds unsure, like he doesn’t want to upset Levi and that makes him want to laugh.

“You have free will. You can do whatever you damn well please.” Levi pauses for a moment before adding. “And Onyan could really use the help.”

Zeke just nods. It’s obvious they don’t know how to interact with each other, don’t know what to do around one another. Levi is fidgety and Zeke is reclusive, curling into himself. It gets easier to be around Zeke as time passes, silence sitting over them comfortably instead of awkward and stifled.

People's eyes wander over them but no one ever approaches. They’re always too scared to say the wrong thing, never wanting to be reminded of their past, never wanting to rile up the grumpy old man or the volatile beast.

“We really seem to be the life of the party.” Zeke says, dry and humourless. It’s a try at a shitty joke and it actually makes Levi snort, causing the tea he was sipping to get caught in his throat and his face turning a shade of pink from embarrassment.

They are the black sheep.

It’s something Levi was used to on Paradis; people looked at him similarly but with more disdain, more disgust…similarly to the way they look at Zeke, he supposes. He contributes to Zeke’s isolation, his alienation.

That creeping guilt starts to set in as he glances down at his hands, now empty from the teacup he held. His hands tremble, as they usually do. His missing fingers, scarred and mangled from Zeke’s own doing. Does he hate him for it? He never thought of it that way. People have asked him time and time again but he always shrugged them off–there wasn’t time for blame when the world was against them and they were all just trying to survive.

Zeke’s voice is quiet, he hasn’t moved since taking his spot next to Levi’s chair but he hears it like it’s the only sound in the room. “I’m sorry.” It’s sincere and soft, ruff around the edges like the blonde’s tone usually is but this time it’s raw with nervousness and secreting emotion.

Levi looks up for the first time, seeing Zeke’s face in the flickering firelight. He no longer wears those silver rimmed glasses, his beard is trimmed closer to the skin–the neatest he’s seen it. He’s gotten a haircut, a faded undercut and it’s quite a bit shorter on top. He looks nice–aside from the severe dark circles and hallowed cheeks but…isn’t that what they all look like? The towering blonde’s clothes are hanging off of him–he’s lost weight and it makes Levi want to tailor them to fit correctly, his hands itching in his lap.

They just stare for a long moment. Their eyes both search each other's faces, over their bodies, their clothes, shaking hands and nervously rocking heels.

“I never got to say it, you know. But I do mean it–even if you don’t want to hear it or you don’t want it at all. You deserve one.”

Levi sits–blinking in shock. He doesn’t think anyone has ever apologized to him before–except–maybe Hange. But the circumstances were far different.

‘Thank you’ doesn’t seem like the correct response as he stares into sad blue eyes. Zeke is very obviously trying to heal, just like everyone else. Trying to pay for his sins, just as Levi is and is doing so by putting himself in one of the most painful situations he could think up–apologizing to the man who swore to kill him, the man he fucked, the man he maimed. They’re both trying to force themselves to pay penance in these terrible situations they put themselves into and it’s almost laughable–how similar they really are.

It’s something neither of them would ever like to admit.

Levi feels compelled to–to not leave the man floundering in his own self-induced exposure therapy. So, he does the only thing he can think of and asks Zeke if he’d like to accompany him on a walk where they’d both be freed of everyone’s greedy watching. Zeke accepts, in shock, but he accepts nonetheless and he kindly helps Levi stand from the chair. They feel the eyes on them as they walk towards the hallway, smiling and saying their goodbyes to Gabi and Falco who promise to check on him tomorrow as they make their way out the door and into the cooling evening air.

They walk quietly along the farm's trail. Zeke matches Levi’s pace, slow and meandering.

“You look good.” Zeke speaks, looking Levi’s frail body over.

Levi lets out a rough laugh. “If this looks good to you then maybe you should start wearing those shitty glasses again.”

Zeke huffs a soft laugh, reaching into his slacks back pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes. He sets one on his lip, lighting it with a silver lighter. Levi makes a disgusted face, though the smell is familiar–almost comforting. Zeke’s in a dark brown sweater, his sleeves scrunched up, his forearms exposed and a light dusting of freckles lay on his skin, mixing with the fair blonde hair.

Levi reaches his left fingers out, whole and waiting as Zeke places the cigarette in between them. He takes a drag, blowing it out and coughing a few times. It’s not completely unpleasant, so he tries again, Zeke’s eyes watching him intently.

They walk that way for a while, passing it back and forth. It’s comfortable and the weather is nice–the company is nice.

“They didn’t really like us in there, did they?” Zeke mentions, blowing a puff of smoke from between his lips.

Levi is quiet for a moment, looking into the surrounding trees as birds start to return to their nests, peeping quietly.

“Would you? When we’re nothing but a constant reminder of their own flaws.” There's no sadness to Levi’s voice, it’s just fact. They pay to keep them hidden away from the public eye, wanting to forget the horrendous things humanity has done and they’re a clear indication of what the world is capable of.

They’re silent after that until they reach Levi’s porch. Levi mentions this is his, like it isn’t obvious and Zeke says it looks nice–that’s just as obvious. The blonde drops the cigarette on the ground, putting it out with his shoe but then he reaches down to pick it up again and Levi’s glad he’s not going to leave it rotting on his front lawn.

“Do you have a place I can toss this?” Zeke asks and Levi does, leading him inside hesitantly. This is the first person, other than Gabi, Falco and Onyan, who will be stepping foot inside of his home. His hand trembles slightly around the doorknob and if Zeke see’s it, he doesn’t mention it.

He leads the man inside and into the kitchen where Zeke tosses it into the trash. Levi doesn’t give him much time to linger, instead leading him back to the living room where he lights the gas fireplace to get rid of the stinging cold leftover from the home being empty most of the day. Zeke stands until Levi takes a seat on the brown leather couch, nodding for the blonde to follow. He rests his cane on the side table, flicking on the lamp next to him.

“It’s nice in here–I wouldn’t expect anything different, I suppose.” Zeke speaks quietly, looking around the furnished room. Levi did take the time to decorate for the first time in his life. He was urged on by Gabi who constantly bought him things to fill the space until he started to bring things home from the orphanage; items the children had made him, pictures taken of the kids and items he found at the marketplace that he thought suited the color scheme he started to curate.

“You can thank Gabi for that–Onyan and Falco made it accessible for me with my leg.” Levi states matter-of-fact. It’s true. It’s a one story house, with wide hallways, low countertops and shelves–easier for him to use his wheelchair.

Zeke nods as he takes everything in but it doesn’t make Levi feel as vulnerable as he thought it would–to halve someone inside of his space, viewing his personal belongings.

Levi’s right hand lays on the middle cushion, his three fingers visible. He doesn’t know what else to say as silence falls over them until he feels the brush of soft, warm fingertips over his. Zeke lays his hand on top of his own, resting in the middle of their bodies. His first instinct is to pull away–he hasn’t been touched or touched kindly in years aside from Gabi’s erratic hugs. It’s not that he hasn’t been propositioned once or twice…he just hasn’t allowed himself that nicety.

The warmth feels good, the tenderness is nice too. Zeke’s hands aren’t calloused, they’re soft and warm–two things Levi isn’t used to. So, he lets him lay his hand on top of his, the feeling of Zeke running his fingertips over the spot where his two fingers are missing. They’re both watching where their hands meet in silence with just the fire popping quietly in the background.

No one touches Levi–no one touches Levi there and so gently.

His heart speeds up, thumping in his chest. He missed touch and this soft caress alone sends a spike of emotion through him, his eyebrows creasing in the middle. Zeke is bold for this but if he wasn’t then Levi would have never let him–would have never let anyone touch him this way.

Zeke moves closer, taking Levi’s hand in his, their thighs touching now as Levi’s hand lays on Zeke’s thigh, their hands still clasped together. The blonde feels up Levi’s clothed arm, heat emanating through his sleeve and onto his cool skin as he reaches up to cup Levi’s face. His smooth fingers trace over scar tissue, the texture indented and supple. Zeke is finally bearing witness to the damage he has done to Levi’s body but his touch is soft and hesitant. It ghosts over each jagged mark, and Levi sits stock still, frozen to his seat. He’s afraid to move, as if he’d blink and wake up in his bed, cold and alone, still craving the intimacy he’s afraid to admit he wants so badly but never allows himself to have.

“Levi–” Zeke’s voice is a whisper, pained and quiet.

“Don’t. I don’t want your pity.” Levi bites back but it comes out just as quiet. He leans his head into Zeke’s touch and the man takes the hint, just like he had all those years ago, reading Levi’s body language like it was his own native tongue.

Their eyes meet and they’re both sad, blue and grey, watery and wet. They’re filled with longing and unhealed pain. Zeke leans forward, their mouths meeting softly and it’s like a breath of fresh air to Levi’s gasping lungs. The familiarity of Zeke’s taste, and the brush of his rough beard against his skin sends a tingling down his spine.

Levi lifts the hand that isn’t in Zeke’s lap and lets it rest on the back of the blonde’s neck, pulling him closer. Their mouths move slowly–nervously. They’re both out of practice and it’s obvious but the hesitance is nice. Levi wants things to be tender just as much as he wants things to be rough and mean. Something inside of him screams at him to lash out at Zeke, to anger the man, to push him away or rile him up.

But that’s not who they are anymore and his body couldn't handle it the way it used to. Zeke’s hands bush over him so softly and full of sorrow, he doesn’t think either of them even have that rage in them anymore.

He brushes his tongue softly against Zeke’s bottom lip and he allows him access, opening his mouth as their tongues brush up against each other, slick and warm. He feels around the inside of Zeke’s mouth, his smaller tongue brushing against the roof of his mouth tenderly.

He doesn’t deserve this, does he? But it’s Zeke–it’s like a double edged sword, his guilt and need for closeness ripping into him all at once. The way he needs to be known, craves to be seen in ways no one else can because no one else was there, has seen what he has seen, felt what he has felt, touched him as Zeke has touched him.

They continue to explore each other’s mouths, soft flicks of the tongue and brushes of their noses. Levi tilts his head for more access. Zeke tastes like cigarettes and it’s so familiar it makes him want to swallow it down, savor it. He had almost forgotten the flavor.

Zeke lets go of Levi’s hand, pressing his warm palm to Levi’s chest as he slides it down his clothed stomach. His body reacts, leaving goosebumps in his hand’s wake. Levi nips at Zeke’s bottom lip, it’s plump and soft in between his crooked teeth. Once upon a time he would have bitten all the way down, drawing blood but tonight he just sucks it into his mouth, letting it out with a small pop before reconnecting their lips for more.

The blonde’s hand trails lower, reaching Levi’s half-hardness through his slacks, palming at him from head to base until he’s fully erect and starting to ache. He moans into their parted mouths, his hand grabbing at Zeke’s short blonde hair. Zeke groans right back, moving to stand, pulling away to connect his lips to the soft skin of Levi’s neck. He wraps his legs carefully around the blonde’s waist where he lifts him from the couch, sucking softly at his porcelain skin, his beard tickling his neck.

“The last door down the hall.” Levi speaks, breathless in Zeke’s ear. The man swallows loudly, pulling back to look Levi directly in the eye. His pupils are blown wide, swallowing his deep blue.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his throat is raspy with want.

“No but you’re not either.” And Zeke doesn’t argue with that, doesn’t seem to have a response other than to go back to sucking marks into Levi’s neck as he carries him down the hall, his cane forgotten in the living room. Zeke pushes the door open, laying Levi softly on the bed, cushioning his head on the plush pillows.

Their breathing is quick, bordering on frantic but they undress each other slowly. Shirts go first, slipping over head and skin. Then bottoms, kicking their shoes off, followed by the unzipping and unbuttoning of their slacks, falling to the floor. Levi shimmies out of his, Zeke helping slide them off of his body. Their briefs go next, exposing themselves to each other for the first time in years and there's no shame to it, just wandering eyes, and playful hands brushing against skin and scars.

The clothing lands scattered along the polished wooden floor and Zeke makes a comment about it.

“It’s unlike you to not fold these immediately.” He nods towards their discarded clothing while climbing onto the bed, the mattress sinking just slightly as he climbs in between Levi’s parted legs.

“This is very unlike me. I’m trying new things, it seems.” He mumbles back to him, laying his head back against his pillows again, his short black hair fans out across the white fabric, creating a dark halo.

Zeke bends, laying a soft kiss to Levi’s exposed forehead. He trails kisses down his cheek, across his scarring and over his milky white eye. Levi lets him, feeling the stinging burn of tears in his eyes that he won’t let come to full fruition.

“You’re beautiful, Levi.” Zeke whispers, their lips brushing softly against each other until Levi leans up, connecting them again. He lifts his good leg and Zeke catches it in his palm, bringing it to rest on his freckled shoulder. He lifts his head to kiss Levi’s knee and thigh, kissing the soft, untouched skin at the junction of his thigh and hip, making Levi squirm slightly from his beard and soft, ticklish touch.

Levi runs his fingers through Zeke’s short curls as the man continues to mouth at his skin, trailing toward his pelvis, into the trimmed dark hair at the base of his cock where stands erect and warm. He noses at it, Levi’s hands scratching at the blonde’s scalp while his tongue licks a wet, warm strip from base to tip, sending a shiver up Levi’s spine, making him lift his hips from the mattress before Zeke’s hands firmly push him back down. He lets out a sharp breath when Zeke’s tongue circles his red tip, precrum leaking, glistening on his plump lips. It’s obscene and Levi wants to lick it from the man's mouth.

Zeke brings Levi into his mouth, sinking down slowly until he’s reached the back of his throat. Levi throws his head back, extending his neck, his eyes screwed shut while his mouth hangs slack. A lewd moan escaping him, high pitched and heated. The hands in Zeke’s hair tighten their hold as the man starts to bob up and down.

“Shit–” Levi pushes through his teeth, trying to even his breathing as heat starts to spread through his limbs.

Zeke takes his time. Levi feels his slick tongue dragging against him as he raises and lowers his head. He pulls off for a moment before taking his own two long fingers into his mouth, slicking them wet and positioning them on the rim of Levi’s hole. Zeke drops his mouth back onto him, pushing his fingers in slowly, making Levi’s toes curl on Zeke’s freckled back.

Zeke is slow and methodical, curling his fingers inside of Levi until he hits the spot that makes Levi’s hips lift from the bed again, jerking into the back of the man’s throat, causing him to gag, tears beginning to stream down his face but Zeke doesn’t stop.

He scissors his fingers, opening Levi up as he continues to use his mouth as a distraction but if he keeps this up, Levi is going to burst.

“Zeke, fuck. I’m going to–” The blonde pulls off, his fingers sliding out of him at the same time.

He hovers over Levi, looking down at him, his face is wrecked, lips are red and swollen, tears streaming down his face with rosy cheeks but he looks beautiful and Levi has the urge to kiss him.

“Your leg–” Zeke is out of breath, his throat is raw. “We can’t do it like before.” He means with Levi on top. They could. Levi could prove it. They just need some–adjusting.

“I can do it.” Levi is steadfast in his decision, sitting up, flipping them and pushing Zeke’s back to the headboard. Levi grabs the lavender oil he keeps in his nightstand to massage his aching leg. He bends Zeke’s knees, positioning his feet flat on the bed so that they’ll support Levi’s back–holding him up. “There. I can do it–like that.”

“Alright.” Zeke allows him to pour the oil onto his own hand, running it over Zeke’s sensitive cock. He’s fully erect and sensitive in Levi’s grasp, his hips jerk slightly when Levi’s fingers wrap around it, oiling it up thoroughly.

“You might have to–to help hold me up a bit.” Levi says quietly, leaning forward between Zeke’s legs, rubbing the man’s length from top to bottom.

“Whatever you need, Levi.” Zeke’s voice is breathy but he’s sincere.

The blonde leans forward, pulling Levi onto his lap, tossing the closed bottle aside. He kisses Levi’s neck, his chest and Levi lifts himself, careful not to put any weight onto his bad leg, leaning on his left and laying his back on Zeke’s thighs as he positions himself with Zeke’s hands under his armpits for support. They lower him slowly, his hand underneath him as he feels that press, that ache that starts to build as Zeke enters him. The ache is wonderful, painfully pleasurable and Zeke must agree, moaning loudly as Levi adjusts himself.

They sit like that for a moment, neither of them moving, just quick breathing, their chests pressed together with Levi’s back to Zeke’s warm thighs. He feels completely surrounded and it’s comforting–comforting and safe. Levi leans forward, he doesn’t have to go far, their faces are practically touching already. He connects their mouths and slowly starts to roll his hips. He won’t be able to lift or pull himself off of Zeke but this will do and he knows Zeke won’t complain–he never bites the hand that feeds him.

Levi mewls into Zeke’s mouth, light and lewd. Their bodies rock together as Zeke starts to lift his hips in time with Levi’s.

“Shit–Levi–” Zeke’s moans, the man mewling his name, lights a flame in Levi’s chest. He kisses down Levi’s sweaty throat, the sound of rubbing slick skin fills the room as the sun fully sets outside of the bedroom window, casting them in an orange hue.

“Just–like before–huh?” Levi jokes, their mouths meeting frantically, already out of breath.

“Nothing like before.”

Something in that statement hits Levi–it is nothing like before. Neither of them are anything like they were before. Absolutely nothing is like it was before and maybe that's what hurts the most or maybe that's what is the most relieving of all.

Tears prick at the corners of Levi’s eyes but his hips don’t stop moving.

“Nothing like–before.” He whispers back to Zeke who holds Levi close to him, chest to chest, hips rocking and meeting in time with each thrust. Tears start to stream down Levi’s scarred face as their bodies continue to meet, pleasure and pain mixing in his gut.

Levi’s close, that aching burn starting to spread through his body, making his limbs feel like putty. Zeke is kissing his face, kissing away the tears that continue to spill over, ones he has no control over.

He lets himself feel it and he knows Zeke does too with the look of twisted pleasure on the dirty blonde’s face. Zeke's constant showering of kisses, mouthing at Levi’s skin, licking and nipping as if savoring his taste and it adds to Levi’s want. He feels worshipped–he feels devoured. Zeke’s hands grip Levi’s waist, helping guide his hips and taking some of the weight off as he lifts him in time with Zeke’s own thrusts and it’s a relief on his legs and knees as he succumbs to his own pleasure–fully feeling the heat of their bodies pressed together.

His moans mix with sobs and he’d be embarrassed if it was anyone else in this bed with him. He can’t decipher which is which but he doesn’t want it to stop.

Zeke’s hands find Levi’s cock in between them, pumping him quickly until his body is filled with that beautiful rising heat, waves of his orgasm washing over him as his mouth falls open, a long, high moan escaping between his uncontrolled sobs. He feels Zeke come right after him, filling him completely, hot and sticky. His body going rigid underneath him as they ride out their highs, their sweat slicked bodies are heavy and tired with emotion and finally expressed want.

He helps Levi slide off of him, pulling him quickly to his chest as they lay down in Levi’s bed. His sobs fill the room, his tears falling onto Zeke’s chest. He doesn’t remember the last time he cried, the last time he let everything out. Was it the day of The Rumbling? Has it really been that long?

“Shh–Shh–I’ve got you.” Zeke brushes his hands through Levi’s sweaty hair and Levi cries out, loud and unbidden. “I failed him! I fucking failed him–them! All of them. Why am I the only one left living with this–this–shit!”

Zeke is silent for a moment, just rubbing Levi’s back softly.

“You’re not a Captain anymore, Levi. There’s no more failing or completing of any mission or task and the sooner we both accept that, the sooner we can move on–the sooner we can heal.” There’s a soft emotion to Zeke’s words like he’s already come to terms with them, like they’re something similar to ones spoken to him not too long ago.

Levi lets out another ragged sob but he knows the man is right, he’s not those things anymore and he doesn’t have to be–doesn’t have to hold himself to those standards, but why won’t the expectation leave him be?

“You have to let it go, Levi. You have to. I can’t tell you whether they would want you to or not, thats not my place but what I do know, is that punishing yourself for something that no longer exists is no way to fucking live–and trust me–I’ve been fucking doing it too.” Zeke pauses again, taking a breath. His chest lifts Levi with it. “I don’t think you or I wanted to live–don’t think we thought we deserved to. But seeing you like this? Seeing what you’ve done at the orphanage and with Falco and Gabi? You deserve to live, Levi. You deserve peace and I’m sorry that I’ve been the cause of that never happening for you.”

Levi is silent, the sobs have stopped but the tears are still streaming. He sits up, his arms shaking from his previous exertion. He holds Zeke’s face in his hands with his elbows resting on the man’s blonde-hair-speckled chest.

“Thank you.” He looks into those blue eyes, weary and tired, deep and soft. “You’re trying, Zeke. I see that. I see you. You’re trying.” A small tear escapes Zeke’s eye and Levi wipes it away with his thumb. He kisses Zeke’s cheek with as much care as someone like him can muster, laying his head back down on his chest, feeling long arms wrap around his small, exhausted frame.

“Thank you, Levi.” Zeke whispers quietly into Levi’s hair, so quiet that Levi almost doesn’t catch it. He reaches out, pulling the covers up and over them. From his place on Zeke’s chest, he can see out of his window where the moon drifts higher and the stars start to make themselves known.

He just lets himself be held and he just lets himself hold.

Something he would have never done before.