Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Levi

Eren glanced at the clock. 22:20. There wasn’t much going on at the Little Titan Café. Don’t ask him why it’s called that. His mother, the owner, thought it sounded cute. Eren thought it was weird, but patrons seemed to like it enough to come, so who was he to judge? On a weeknight like tonight, there weren’t many customers with exception to the occasional college student coming in to use their free Wi-Fi. And considering they were open until midnight most nights – with exception to Sundays—it was the perfect place for students to come and work on last minute homework, projects, what have you.

Unfortunately for him, he was usually stuck with the closing shift. You always sleep in anyway. Your classes aren’t until the afternoon and blah, blah, blah. It wasn’t that Eren hated the closing shift. He just hated how dreadfully boring it was. Weekends were typically the busiest so those nights went by fast. But weeknights? Not so much.

He fiddled with his iPhone. 22:25. The picture on the screen was of him and his two childhood friends huddled at one of the booths in this very café. Mikasa was looking bemused with her latte moustache while Eren and Armin laughed. He grinned at the memory and unlocked his phone to reply to their text messages.

Armin: Don’t forget you have a math exam tomorrow.

Shit. Not that they were in the same class – Armin was beyond something like College Algebra—but somehow he remembered when Eren had a test. That he had forgotten. Shit. Yeah, he was so screwed tomorrow. Not that he was an A+ student. Or a B. Maybe somewhere between a high D and low C. Who needed math anyway? It had nothing to do with his major.

Mikasa: Hi.

Eren snorted. Mikasa’s blunt messages never ceased to amuse him. By the time he finished responding, it was 22:29 with a few seconds left in the minute. The jingle of the door being opened dragged Eren’s attention away from his phone. It was a short walk from the bar to the entrance, so when the cold, winter air rushed into the shop, Eren shivered from his position by the register.

He turned his head away from the chill of the air as he greeted the customer with a, “Welcome to the Little Titan Café.” If he wasn’t contractually obligated to – and if he wasn’t suspicious that his mother somehow knew whenever he didn’t say those words to a customer – Eren wouldn’t bother saying such a lame line. But after years of his mother instilling the phrase into his head, he was conditioned to spew them whenever he heard the jingle of the bell.

It was always obvious when a customer was new to their shop. They usually lingered by the entrance to look around, as if expecting to see something strange. Eren didn’t blame them. If he walked into a place called the Little Titan Café, he’d probably expect something stranger. But whether this man was a new or simply looking for a place to sit was hard to tell. His expression was firmly set in what Eren could only describe as apathy. Slanted, gray eyes scanned the cozy coffee shop, taking in the two women gossiping by the window, the college student tapping furiously away on his laptop, and another struggling to stay awake as she read a book.

There were a lot of things Eren Jaeger didn’t believe in. He didn’t believe in waking up before 11:00. He didn’t believe in needing breakfast. He didn’t believe in driving the speed limit because the speed limit was too damn slow. He didn’t believe in luck – you have to take what you want, not hope to have it handed to you. He didn’t believe in not fighting back. He didn’t believe in failure (let’s not mention the math exam he would be failing tomorrow, because he didn’t believe in the e-word either). He didn’t believe in pissing his mom off because boy was she scary when she was mad. He didn’t believe in romance or love at first sight or being swept off your feet. He was a boy, duh, so like hell he cared about that mushy stuff.

But then his eyes landed on the man with the apathetic face and thought he had to toss away all those non-beliefs. Okay, maybe not all of them. Just the love-at-first-sight part. Because Eren was starting to be a believer. It didn’t matter how cliché it sounded. There was just something about the slant of his eyes. Something about the downward tilt of his lips, the way the part in his bangs weren’t quite centered. Something about the way – though he was a few inches smaller than Eren – his shoulders were noticeably broad through the jacket of his suit; the way his very presence alone demanded attention and yeah, he had all of Eren’s.

It was no secret from anyone who knew him that he was gay. So very, very, verygay. And his gay little heart fluttered at the sight of the man, skipped a beat at the barely perceptible jump in a strong jaw, stopped when those gray eyes caught his. He thought his breath may have stopped, too, because he was starting to feel a little lightheaded and jittery. Or maybe it was just the butterflies in his stomach freaking out as the patron walked towards him. His hands fisted his green apron, willing said butterflies to chill the fuck out but goddamnit was Eren a nervous wreck because this good-looking man was coming closer and shit he wanted to hide.

He was reminded that he was the only one working as the man occupied one of the bar stools, setting a black, leather messenger bag on to the bar. Eren’s heart hammered loudly in his throat, or no, in his ears, no he could even feel it in his stomach. What the hell was wrong with him? All the man’s done so far was stand, stare, walk, sit, and now he was shrugging off his jacket and yeah his shoulders were broad in that white-collared shirt and were some of those buttons loose because there was some collarbone and – Eren gulped. His mouth felt unbearably dry.

He was feeling ridiculous and strange and was convinced he was coming down with something.

“W-wel—“ Eren had to clear his throat. His voice sounded pathetic even to his own ears. He took in a deep breath and willed himself to calm down and treat this man like any other person. He put on the best grin he could muster. “Welcome to the Little Titan Café. Is this your first time here?”

“Yeah.” He folded his jacket over the empty barstool next to him. “Why is this place called that?”

Eren relaxed at the question, his earlier jitters slowly but surely retreating. “My mom thought the name would make people curious enough to come in. Seems to have worked on you, didn’t it?”

“That’s true. Your mother owns this place?”

Eren nodded. Now that they were closer, he was all too painfully aware of the flush on the man’s cheeks, no doubt from walking outside in the cold. It was starting to fade, though. “Is there anything I can get you? Or did you need a moment to look over the menu?”

“I’ll just have a caffè latte,” he said as he opened his messenger bag and pulled out a laptop.

“One latte coming right up,” Eren said, his hands falling away from his apron. If there was one thing he could do it was make a mean latte. A couple of minutes later, he was setting a freshly made latte in front of the handsome patron – hey, he didn’t know his name so how else was Eren supposed to refer to him? “Here you go, sir.”

“Thanks,” he glanced at the nametag on Eren’s apron, “Eren.” Had his attention not been diverted to the latte set before him, he would have noticed the way the barista flushed at his name being said. That flush disappeared, thankfully, when the man noticed the leaf Eren had designed with the milk, his embarrassment giving way to pride. “You did this? Impressive.”

He shrugged, his smile smug. “Oh, that’s nothing.”

He regarded Eren for a moment before deadpanning, “You know, when someone gives you a compliment, you’re supposed to feign modesty and say thanks. Brat.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, if I’m good at something why bother to pretend I’m not? It’d be stupid.”

“Maybe people don’t like cocky little shits.”

“Hey, I would watch who you called little.”

The temperature in the room suddenly dropped below zero. Just a disclaimer: Eren had the tendency to say things before thinking them through. He knew he touched on a rather touchy subject when the man’s expression darkened considerably. “Why exactly is that?”

“Um,” Eren’s gaze flittered around nervously, trying to find a distraction, hoping a new customer would come in or maybe one of the current customers would start having a heart attack. But none of them looked old enough to have one. Damn it. “Er. No reason.”

He had to bite back the you started this retort. Something told him that, counter between them or not, the man would reach over and strangle him. It made Eren question his earlier feelings, or whatever the hell that had been. A momentary lapse in sanity, perhaps? Now that he was realizing the violent tendencies that no doubt hid beneath layers of apathy, Eren was starting to come to his senses. There was no such thing as love at first sight, after all. He was merely appreciating the man’s good looks, the no-doubt nice body beneath that suit, the way his collar hung loosely around a thick neck, the way he could see the pale flesh of his collar bone, the way—.

His thoughts were distracted when the man picked up his cup, lifted it to his lips, and took a sip from his latte. And just as Eren predicted, a frothy moustache was left behind.

He couldn’t help it. Eren wrapped his arms around his sides and laughed.

The man paused, eyes narrowing. “The hell is so funny?”

“N-nothing,” Eren gasped, reigning in his laughter to smirk, “sir.”

“Just Levi.”

Eren blinked. “Huh?”

“My name.”

“Oh.” Eren blinked again. And again. The jittery feeling was returning to his stomach. “Levi.”

There was a flash in gray eyes, a look that made Eren’s stomach burn, but it bubbled over again with laughter when his gaze returned to the latte moustache. The frown on Levi’s face was positively fierce. “You will tell me what is so goddamn funny—“ He glanced at the dark screen of his laptop, scowling when his reflection scowled right back.  Levi tore a napkin from the dispenser with a growl. “You little shit.”

“Sorry?” The grin on Eren’s face was the least bit apologetic.

Needless to say, that night at the Little Titan Café was a little less boring for a certain barista.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Chai Tea

Eren’s eyebrow twitched. If he had a hundred dollars for every time he heard this, he’d be a millionaire by now. “What was that?”

“I saidI want a Tai Chi.” The middle-aged, brunette woman shot him a withering glare, as if to say are-you-deaf-or-something-you-daft-child.

“A Chai Tea?”

“Did I say a Chai Tea?” she snapped.

“It’s called a Chai Tea, ma’am. Not a Tai Chi,” Eren drawled. His tolerance for stupid customers was zero to none. It honestly made him wonder sometimes why his mother let him work at her store. She knew how short his temper could be.

“Just make me my Tai Chi. Hot.”

“What size would you like? Colossal Titan, Armored Titan or Dancing Titan?” When all he received was a blank look in response, Eren continued, “A Colossal Titan is a size large, whereas an Armored Titan is a medium and a Dancing Titan is a small.” He pointed at a display case next to his register that had sample cups, each one having a doodle of strange looking monsters to represent the size of the cups. Yeah, the owner had an overactive imagination.

“A medium. God, this place is so weird…” She slammed a ten dollar bill next to the register. Eren stared blankly at both the money and her perfectly manicured nails. He rang up her order in silence before handing her the change. “And make it to-go.”

“One Tai Chicoming up,” he quipped, turning away with a roll of his eyes to make her drink.

The female patron’s face puffed, clearly indignant. “This is terrible customer service. What kind of server rolls their eyes at their customer? Who in all their right mind would let someone as rude as you work here? Where is your manager? I would have a few words with them!”

Eren’s lips twitched as he struggled to keep a straight face, but a smile spread without much of a fight. “Don’t you mean ‘I would have words’?”

She furrowed her brows and blinked, taken aback. “What?”

He shook his head, still smiling as he finished making her drink. There was no way this uppity woman would watch something like Spartacus. Eren handed her the steaming paper cup. “Here you go. One Tai Chi.”

Any thought of talking to his manager – not that there was one on duty – was wiped from her head as she snatched the drink from Eren’s grasp, nails scratching the back of his hand as she did so. With a huff, she turned on her heels and stalked out of the shop. Eren sighed and rubbed his hand.

“You may want to disinfect that. Or see a doctor. She could have rabies.”

Eren turned his head towards Levi. He was sitting at the same barstool as he did two nights ago, except he was dressed slightly more casual. The sleeves of his navy knit shirt were rolled up to his elbows, Eren’s gaze lingering on his forearms, noting the faint line of a vein and the way muscles moved as he typed at his laptop. There was just something about those arms that he really, really liked. It made him wonder if Levi had toned biceps beneath the sleeves.

“Can people have rabies?” Eren asked, tearing his gaze away from Levi’s arms to frown at the now angry red scratch.

“Sure.” The clacking of keyboard stopped, gray eyes lifting to Eren’s. “Do you feel an itching or prickling sensation from the scratch?”

Eren’s frown deepened. “Well, now that you mention it…”

“Discomfort?”

He shifted.

“A fever?”

Maybe he was starting to feel a little warm.

“A headache?”

Eren gulped. Was that a small pounding he felt in the back of his head?

“Already showing symptoms, huh? There’s no saving you. You’re going to die.”

Eren squeaked, eyes widening in horror. “No!”

Levi stared at him for three unnerving seconds. He turned his attention back to his laptop. “Just kidding. It takes weeks for symptoms to start showing. You won’t die. Yet.”

“I-is there a cure?” There had to be a cure, right? It was the year 2013, so there must be one. What kind of world did they live in if there wasn’t a cure for rabies? Eren raised both hands and grasped at his hair, panic freezing him in place.

Levi could practically feel green eyes bore at him imploringly. He could drag it out a little longer. There was something pleasantly entertaining about making the boy fidget and squirm; a twisted sense of satisfaction in the way Eren’s face contorted in fear. His fingers lingered over the letters of his keyboard before weaving them together, settling his elbows on the bar and his chin on the back of his palms, hiding his smirk. He let the barista sweat for a few, heavy moments. Eren’s hands fell away from his hair to twist at his apron as he bounced from one foot and to the next.

Levi waved a dismissive hand. “Just kidding.”

Eren’s nose scrunched in confusion. Levi wanted to tell him not to do that because, well, he wasn’t sure why. “You’re kidding about kidding? Or are you kidding about me having rabies?”

“Rabies are contracted through saliva. So unless she really did have rabies and you made out with her or something, you don’t have rabies.”

“This was my first time meeting her, so no way.” And besides, Eren didn’t swing that way. His shoulders sagged with relief only to stiffen in anger. “You were messing with me!”

“Congratulations, you finally caught on. But seriously,” he ignored Eren’s muffled cry of outrage to reach into the front pocket of his messenger bag and tossed a mini bottle of Purell. Eren nearly dropped it, “disinfect that cut. And wash your hands when you’re done.”

“Okay, mom.” Levi glared at the jab, but Eren did as he was told. He returned the bottle to Levi when he was done. “Thanks. But you’re still a jerk.”

If only they had a Wall of Shame like Eren wanted. He would take a picture of Levi, blow it up to epic proportions and pin it up in his roo—er, on the Wall of Shame. Yeah. There. Where it belonged. This was only their second meeting and he was already yanking Eren’s chain.

“Do you get that a lot?”

“Customers throwing Purell bottles at me?”

Levi snorted. “No. Customers asking for ‘Tai Chi.’”

It was hard to keep up with this man’s train of thought. Eren leaned against the counter. “Yeah, sadly. It was funny the first three times, but now not so much.” He leaned a little further, trying to get a glimpse of Levi’s laptop screen, but Levi tilted it inwards. “What are you working on?”

“Work.”

“What kind of work do you do?”

“Work-related things.”

“Well obviously.” Really, how aggravating could one man be? He was becoming less and less attractive to Eren. Levi could flash those forearms all he wanted and it wouldn’t change Eren’s feelings in the least. Nope. Not one bit. But then Levi shifted his sleeves further up past his elbows to resume his work and Eren’s arm slipped off the counter, banging his shoulder against it in the process. Levi quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as Eren flushed and straightened himself out.

Seriously, Eren Jaeger? Of all things to get hot and bothered about: arms? He wasn’t some middle-schooler for crying out loud. Thankfully, the jingle of the bell distracted him from trying to figure out his own thoughts as he greeted the new customer with the usual, “Welcome to the Little Titan Café!”

“You know, you still haven’t ordered anything,” Eren pointed out, attention on his phone as he browsed Facebook and chewed away at his gum. 23:05. Fifty-five minutes until closing time. He sighed.

“Should you be playing with your phone while on the clock?” Levi asked instead. “And stop chewing with your mouth open.”

Eren blew out a bubble and sucked it in with a pop. “There’s no one here to bitch at me. And most customers that come in at this time are either too stoned or too preoccupied with school work to care. So which one are you?”

“Neither.”

“You could totally pass as a student.” The sharp look sent his way had him waving his hands in a pacifying gesture. “It’s a compliment. I’m saying you look young, not like some little old man.”

Levi didn’t bother to grace Eren with a response. He finished typing, clicked a few times with his mouse pad and closed his laptop. “I’ll order something.”

Eren slid his cellphone into the pocket of his apron. “Okay, shoot.”

In all honesty, Eren should have seen it coming from a thousand miles away. “I’ll take a Colossal Tai Chi.”

Damn this man with his arms and good looks and smartass-ery.  

“I hate you.”

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café! 
Today's special: Romeo & Juliet

Eren knew Levi was aware of his staring. He could see the twitch that formed in Levi’s temple, noticed the way fingers clenched tighter around his pen, thought it hilarious how he dug the pen harsher into paper. There was no laptop today, or the leather messenger bag. Just a notebook and pen. Eren walked by every now and then to get a glimpse of what Levi was writing, but couldn’t even begin to decipher the tiny letters. He gave up after several passes and opted to observe the man.

That was when he realized Levi always picked his cup up in a certain way. Like now, Levi’s hand fell over the opening of his half-finished latte, fingers clutching just below the brim of the cup. He lifted it up like that and tilted it against his lips, eyes on his paper all the while.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Eren grabbed a paper cup and filled it with water from the sink. He glanced at Levi, who set his own drink down, before mimicking his earlier cup-holding. This wasn’t so bad, Eren thought as he brought the cup to his lips and attempted to tilt it like Levi did. Only the closer it got to his mouth, the more awkward it became, and Eren bumped the back of his hand against his nose and the cup slipped from his grasp, splashing water all over the front of his apron.

“Damn it.”

An audible tch had Eren lifting his head up. Levi twirled his pen around his fingers, voice mocking, “That’s what you get, brat.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eren untied the apron from his back and lifted it up over his head, bunching it up and tossing it into a corner somewhere. He grabbed a few paper napkins to wipe up the mess he made. “It’s not my fault you hold your cup all weird.”

Levi shrugged. “And it’s not my fault you were stupid enough to try.”

“I was curious.” The jingle of the doorbell had Eren popping his head up to peek over the counter. “Welcome to the Little Titan Café!” He frowned when seeing the two girls, or, well, when seeing the taller one in particular. “Oh, it’s you.”

Levi quirked an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder. The first thing he noticed was what a strange pair they made, from the angelic-looking, petite, blonde-haired girl to the tall, gangly, freckled-faced brunette. She rubbed her nose with a sniffle – no doubt from the cold –and stalked over, biker books clacking loudly over the mahogany floors. One hand settled against a jean covered hip while the other leaned against the register counter. “Two hot chocolates. Both armored.”

“Ymir, don’t be so rude.” Blue eyes peeked from around her taller companion, a small smile adorning a childish face. “Hello, Eren.”

“Hi, Christa,” Eren stood up, bundle of napkins in hand, his earlier hostility dissipating. “Are you just getting out of school? Bit late, isn’t it?”

“Our play just ended an hour or so ago. We decided to stop by on our way home.”

“Oh right. How was it? I heard you got the role of Juliet. And let me guess,” he shot a sly glance at Ymir who looked down at him, “Ymir played your Romeo.”

“Well, duh,” Ymir snorted, hands on hips. “As if I’m going to let some guy kiss my Christa.”

“You know they wouldn’t actually kiss me,” Christa said, eyes twinkling in amusement. But the smile on her face as she looked up at her girlfriend was filled with nothing but fondness.

“They’re not supposed to but they’d take advantage of you and do it anyway.” Ymir pinched Christa’s cheek. “You’re too defenseless, I swear.”

After paying, they went to grab a table. When Eren was done making their drinks, he spotted the two girls sitting comfortably at one of the booths. Christa had opted to take off her scarf and petty coat. Ymir sat snuggly next to her, an arm draped around Christa’s shoulders. They giggled amongst themselves, whatever words exchanged lost to everyone else in the shop. Not that there were many people. There were four other customers with exception to the couple and Levi. And no, Eren was not smiling at how absolutely, sickeningly adorable they were. Because Ymir was not adorable. Christa was, just not her overbearing girlfriend.

He caught Levi’s look and quickly hurried off, absolutely not blushing in embarrassment. It occurred to Eren a second too late that he normally would call customers over to get their drinks. But there was something about the way Levi looked at him – amusement, for one thing, and admiration? No, Eren shook that thought away – that had him scurrying off. By the time he reached the girls’ table, he convinced himself it was a figment of his imagination and set their drinks in front of them. Christa smiled, tiny fingers wrapping around her drink, noting the way Eren had taken the liberty to label their orders Romeo and Juliet respectively.

“Thanks, Eren.”

“So who’s that guy?” Ymir asked, not quite clutching her own drink with the entirety of her hand. Her wrist was bent loosely as she swirled it around, waiting for it to cool down.

“Levi?” Eren shrugged. “He only started coming here a couple of days ago.”

“Really.” It wasn’t a question, but he caught on to the incredulity in her tone. “And yet you’re already on first-name basis with a customer?”

“Your point?”

“It’s so obvious you want to bone him. You kept looking at him while making our drinks.”

Eren turned as red as Christa’s skirt, spluttering, “Wh-what are you…” He lowered his voice into a small whisper, “am I that obvious?”

“Pretty much.” Ymir tested the temperature of her hot chocolate with a sip. “But knowing your luck, he’s probably super straight.”

Eren sighed. As if he hadn’t already thought that. “Probab—“ He called out a hasty welcome as another customer stepped into the store. “Well, catch you guys later.”

“Good luck, Eren! Don’t give up hope!” Christa called out.

He stumbled over his feet.

“Classmates of yours?” Levi asked as Christa and Ymir left the shop hand in hand.

“Sorta. We went to the same high school.” Eren finished wiping down the counter.

“And here I thought you were still in high school.”

Eren slung his rag over a shoulder. He could tell Levi was trying to tease him again, but Eren considered the comment thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t it be illegal for a high school student to be working this late?”

“True,” Levi conceded. He had stopped writing a half an hour ago, opting to glare angrily – or at least that’s what Eren thought, it was hard to tell when the man’s expression never actually changed – at his paper. Every now and then he had scribbled out words with his pen and tapped furiously with it against his notebook. But now his notebook sat shut, pen laid against the binding.

“And even if I was a high school student, don’t you have anything better to do than spend your night hanging out with one?” Eren asked. He saw his opportunity to tease the man instead and seized it. Not that Levi looked bothered, either.

“It’s called getting some work done.”

“Can’t you get some work done at home?” Shut up, Eren, a voice hissed in his head. The last thing he wanted to do was drive Levi away, but his mouth worked faster than his brain.

“No,” and that was all Levi would say on the subject. Whatever it was that prevented him from working at home in peace and quiet irked him enough for shadows to settle over his eyes. Eren was reminded of Levi’s angry look on the night he first came to the café, a look Eren thought was reserved only for jokes about his height.

It was a reminder that Eren knew absolutely nothing about Levi. Okay, maybe not absolutely. He knew Levi liked to hold his cup in an unconventional way, or just a way that Eren found awkward. He knew Levi had broad shoulders and a thick neck. He knew Levi liked caffeine – though that was putting it bluntly. Caffeine was a necessity. He knew Levi liked to tease him. He knew Levi had nice arms. He knew that, when Levi was deep in thought over work, a small crease would form between his brows, and sometimes he would randomly perk up as if possessed by a new, wondrous idea.

It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough.

“But I should be getting back,” Levi said with a weary sigh. He rubbed his closed eyelids with the pads of his index finger and thumb. Eren glanced at the clock on the wall. 23:50. Almost time to close. He wanted to ask Levi to stay a little longer, but that would make his infatuation a little too obvious, would make him seem a little too desperate, so he kept his mouth shut. “Head home safely, brat.”

Whether Levi was thrown off by Eren’s sudden bright disposition or the genuinely happy smile that spread across said brat’s face, he wasn’t sure.

“You too, Levi.”

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Peppermint Mocha Latte

While most stores were already playing Christmas music, a certain coffee shop wasn’t. Typically it wasn’t an issue when a majority of their customers were college or high school students. But every now and then there was an occasional customer who couldn’t help but point out the choice of music (not that there was anything bad about it. They tried to keep the music light, from Michael Bublé to Of Monsters and Men, with The Mowgli’s mixed in, among others). Any other time of the year there was never any complaints, but the closer they got to the holidays, well…

“Have a good night, Mr. Pixis,” Eren set the older man’s drink on the counter, waving him off. He returned to the register just as an elderly woman approached. She was squinting, brows furrowed and lips twitching as if in distaste. Eren liked to think that, after he became old enough to work for his mom, he was a pro at reading customers the moment he saw them. And he knew from the moment she squinted her beady eyes that she was going to be bat-shit crazy. “Welcome to the Little Titan Café. What can I get you?”

She frowned at him, her gaze critical. “What you can get me is some holiday spirit.”

“E-excuse me?”

“If this is one of those anti-Christ establishments, I refuse to give you my business!”

“I don’t understand,” and Eren truly didn’t. He had just gotten back from break before their regular, Mr. Pixis came in, took his order then made it, sent him on his way and now some elderly woman was going on about holiday spirit. “We’re not anti-Christ, ma’am, or anti-religion.”

“Then where is your holiday spirit?” she demanded. “Why are you not playing Christmas music?”

That was when it finally clicked what the old bat was getting angry over. “That’s got nothing to do with me. The owner picks out the songs.” Well, that was only half true. Eren often had influence over what songs his mother put together mostly because she didn’t understand how to make a mix, buy or download (free) music online, burn them onto a CD or copy them into a flash drive—basically anything technology-related. “Now, what would you like—“

“I’m sure you’ll start attracting more customers once you start playing Christmas music,” she rattled on. Eren sighed, glancing around the shop, because it was fifteen minutes after ten on a Friday night and the place was decently packed.

“This is just my personal opinion,” Eren gestured at said decently packed shop, “but I don’t think we need Christmas music to attract more customers. Are you going to order something or not?”

“But there should be Christmas music everywhere,” she insisted passionately.

Eren’s patience was a fickle thing. It lasted only so long – thirty seconds, give or take a second – before impatience reared its ugly head. “Look, lady, I ain’t dissing your love for Christmas music but do you know what it’s like to listen to it for hours on end? Actually, don’t answer that. But let me tell you it’s a nightmare, okay? I would rather listen to some preppy, pop shit all day then be forced to endure endless hours of ‘we wish you a Merry Christmas.’ And we haven’t even had Thanksgiving yet! Halloween just ended like, a week ago! Give it some time!Now,” Eren paused to catch his breath, “you either order or you get out.”

A splotch of red stained the old bat’s face, a splotch that grew brighter and brighter in a matter of seconds. Eren counted off with his fingers: 3…2…1 before the customer found her voice. At this point, Eren tuned her out. It was always the same spiel with people like her: where’s your manager? I’ll have you fired. Rude. Terrible customer service. You didn’t even smile when greeting me. You’re supposed to smile at your customers. Children these days. And that attitude! Oh how ashamed your mother would be (not that Eren could deny it).

“It’s not hard to smile, you know,” she continued, her voice finally breaking through Eren’s indifference. “You let go of all that teenage angst and it’ll come naturally.”

“I haven’t been a teenager since I turned twenty. And that was like, a year and a half ago, okay?”

“Oh,” her tone took on a different meaning that Eren didn’t like. It was sympathetic and pitying. “I see. You’re working here because you couldn’t get into a good college. I understand why you are the way you are.”

God-fucking-damn it was there no end to this woman? “No, you got it all—“

“I’ll just take a small black coffee,” she fished her wallet out of her purse and pulled out a couple of bills. She slipped some of them into the tip jar, “and here’s a little something for you, dear. I pray the holiday spirit touches you this year.”

“No, I—“ Eren let out a frustrated breath, sagged his shoulders in defeat and punched her total into the register, “That’ll be one-fifty.”

“What was that about?” a voice asked when she left with her ‘small’ black coffee, coffee that he figured to be as black as her heart.

Eren turned to his coworker, a half-eaten melonpan* in her hand. Sasha Braus was a strange thing, from her never ending appetite to her almost manic personality when it came to food. “Oh nothing. Just another crazy customer.”

She nodded, taking a bite from her bread. Bread that Eren’s eyes narrowed at.

“Did you take that from the shop?”

“Um—“ She stuffed more bread into her mouth to muffle her answer.

Without another word, Eren walked over to the closet, pulled out a mop and bucket, walked back to Sasha and held both items out. She gulped down her bite, whining pitifully, “Aw, do I have to?”

“To compensate for the free food you’re always sneaking, yes.”

She stuffed the rest of the bread into her mouth before taking the mop and bucket reluctantly. Eren crossed his arms and didn’t look away until she had sulked all the way to the bathroom. When she was gone, he relaxed his posture and dug into the pocket of his jeans to pull out his cell phone. At least he could trust Sasha to screw up so he could use that as an excuse to make her clean the bathroom, something Eren had been putting off for a couple of days now. Not because he waslazy or anything, it’s just that typically after he had his break, he was left alone to close the store, so there weren’t opportunities for him to leave the register unattended.

Okay, okay, mostly he was just lazy and refused to be a good worker drone.

“—at.”

Eren stiffened, realizing someone was trying to get his attention.

“Oi, brat.”

Now what? He hastily stuffed his phone into his pocket and turned around to face the customer. “Welcome to –“ a smile lit Eren’s face, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Tch. You and your shitty customer service,” Levi clicked his tongue as he set his messenger bag on to the bar table. It was always refreshing seeing him, Eren thought, because there was something inexplicably delightful about his presence. Maybe it was the way he was always dressed nice, or simply the fact that he talked to Eren every night that he came, but any other reason flew out of Eren’s head as Levi tugged leather gloves from his hands, one finger at a time. All thoughts came to a crashing halt as long, slender fingers were exposed. It wasn’t as if it was the first time Eren saw those hands. He saw them the past couple of times gliding over Levi’s laptop, tracing lines on paper, grasping his drinks in the way that Eren found adorably awkward.

It had never occurred to him that Levi could be married. That thought crossed his mind for a fleeting moment right then and there, but once the left glove was off, his worries went away. But that didn’t change the fact that – just as he was aware of Levi’s arms, of his eyes, his glares, his shoulders and neck – he was now painfully aware of those hands. Such lovely, lovely hands and fingers and Eren wondered how those palms would feel. Would they be rough? Coarse? Soft? Warm or cold?

“Are you even listening?”

“Huh?”

“Sometimes I wonder if there is anything in that head of yours,” Levi said, leather gloves in the pocket of his overcoat. He shrugged his jacket off and hung it over the barstool next to him. “I was saying if you had any recommendations.”

“Recommendations…?” Eren furrowed his brows, still trying to collect his scattered thoughts because it wasn’t fair how aware he was of the man.

“For a drink. You know. Because this is a coffee shop. And you work here.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, coffee. I can do coffee. Um.” Eren turned his back to Levi so he could look at the menu board. He knew the menu by heart it was just that his own heart couldn’t seem to calm the hell down. “How about a peppermint mocha latte?”

“Do I look like I would drink a peppermint mocha latte?”

Eren smiled to himself. If he turned around he was sure he’d see a deadpan look on Levi’s face. “No. But it’s good, I promise. Maybe a little holiday spirit will turn that frown of yours upside down.” Oh the irony. That old bat got to him.

He heard Levi sigh. “Fine. Just don’t make it look festive or anything.”

A couple of minutes later a positively festive peppermint mocha latte in a short cup was set in front of Levi, topped with whipped cream and garnished with crushed candy cane. Eren grinned, all teeth and mischief. “One festive peppermint mocha latte for Mr. Grinch.”

Yeah, maybe he could get into this holiday spirit thing.

Levi’s brow twitched. Eren wanted to tell him maybe he should get that checked out because his eyebrow seemed to be doing that twitching-thing a lot. “You little shit.”

“That’ll be three-twenty-five!”

“I didn’t want this!”

Eren definitely could get into this holiday spirit thing if it meant pissing Levi off.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Armin

“Eren…”

His hand darted furiously over his sketchpad. The further he hunched forward, the deeper the crease between his brows became.

“Eren.”

A strangled, agitated groan sounded in his throat as he tore off the paper, discarding it on to the table with the other sketches. He scratched his head with the butt of his pencil, furious, before bringing said pencil back to paper and starting over for the – Armin counted the drafts that littered the table– eleventh time.

“Eren.”

“What?” he snapped, eyes still on paper, wild and angry because he couldn’t quite get it right no matter how many times he tried. The fingers were too long, too short, too thin, too something.

“Should you really be doing this here?” Armin picked up one sketch after the other, sorting them into a neat pile. He didn’t quite understand why Eren was upset with them. Every one of them was a drawing of hands, none of which Armin could pinpoint any imperfection. They were rough and shaded, some angled as if ready to play a piano, one holding a pen, another with fingers weaved together, clasped, clutching a cup, a finger pointed; they were beautiful in every perspective, lovely in its rough delicacy. But then again, Armin wasn’t an artist and didn’t see things the same way as Eren. Every now and then something would possess Eren – an idea, a subject, a scenery – and, like now, he would obsess over it, draw it repeatedly until he got it just right and even then sometimes it wasn’t good enough.

“What?” Eren asked again, clearly not processing the question.

Armin took a sip of his chocolate chai tea latte. There was no helping Eren when he was caught in this fervor. But couldn’t he have chosen a less public place to go into a mad drawing frenzy? He set his cup down and tried again with a different question, “Do you really want to spend your night off at work?”

“Huh?” He looked up, confused, catching his best friend’s inquisitive stare. Armin caught the way his eyes darted towards the bar, hopeful and anxious all at once, before retreating to his sketchpad. “Here is fine.”

There was no one sitting at the bar. Sasha and Connie had the closing shift, so it was no surprise to see them goofing off behind the register. They had found Christmas decorations from the storage closet and rather than hanging them up like they were supposed to, they were decorating themselves and making a fashion show of it. “You know there’s a party going on at Jean’s, right?”

Eren scoffed. “I don’t think it’s a party if no one shows up.”

“Are you sick or something? You normally jump at the chance to go to parties, even if it’s at Jean’s.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I just wanna chill.”

Right. Eren and chill didn’t belong in the same sentence. Armin didn’t want to pry, but… “Okay. Tell me about him.”

He knew he hit the bull’s eye because Eren’s cheeks lit up as quick and bright as the blinking red nose Connie wore. “Wh-wh-what are you talking about?”

It was just as Armin feared. Eren was stammering. Mikasa was notgoing to be happy when she found out. “Tell me about this guy you keep drawing over and over again.”

“I’m drawing hands, Armin.”

“Very specific hands, with a very specific person in mind.”

“How the hell did you figure that from my sketches? How do you know I’m not obsessing over hands?”

“That’s what I figured at first, but then you looked at the bar where no one was sitting and if you could have seen the look on your face…”

“There was no look on my face!” Eren denied a little too vehemently.

“And now you’re acting defensive.”

Eren pursed his lips, cursing Armin for his obnoxiously smart brain. This was Armin, after all. Armin who was majoring in Nuclear Engineering; who was currently partaking in an undergrad lab internship – now, Eren didn’t know much about it but he understood how hard it was to get into the program, at least; who solved everything with logic, reasoning and deduction; who, to put it simply, was a smart little shit that Eren couldn’t get anything by.

“I know what you’re thinking, and trust me, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s wrong. You’re too transparent.”

Eren scowled at the pointed look Armin gave him. “Doesn’t change you being a smartass.”

Armin tucked a strand of blond hair behind an ear. Eren hadn’t realized it until then that Armin’s hair had gotten longer throughout the year – he always wore it in a ponytail. Normally he kept it cut at a certain length, but Eren figured he was too preoccupied with school to care. “Who’s this customer you’re obsessing over?”

“I’m not obsessing over anyone,” Eren grumbled, staring sulkily at his most recent sketch. He added arms this time, sleeves drawn above elbows, elbows that were bent at 110 degrees, forearms outstretched – he really, really liked those forearms – to the curve of wrists – were they too angled? – and hands – lovely, lovely hands – and the way fingers moved, the way they held his cup, the way they loosely grasped the pen, the way they were clean and rough and there was no ring on his finger but maybe he had a someone and Eren just didn’t know because he didn’t know a lot of things about him but he wanted to he just didn’t know how—

“Eren!”

“What?!”

“You were spacing out.”

“Oh.” Eren frowned, backtracking to figure out where he lost himself. He was looking at his sketch of arms and hands and fingers, a sketch that was notspecific, nor was it of a specific person, it was just that he had an image in his head of a certain apathetic patron who liked to tease him and look at him with those eyes and – damn it he was doing it again. Eren shut his sketchpad and tossed it onto the table. “Maybe I could go to the party. I need a fucking drink.”

But of course, the heavens or gods or whatever deities there were chose that moment to piss on him because the door to the café opened, followed by the chime of the bell and a cold gust of winter air. And suddenly the café was too small and too big all at once because the object of Eren’s obsession stood at the entrance, head lowered as he punched something into his phone. Armin started to stand to leave, but Eren reached over, grabbed his wrist and tugged him back down, all the while trying to make himself invisible.

Shitshitshitshit.

Wait. Why was he panicking? Eren could be at his work place in order to enjoy a cup of coffee, couldn’t he? He was allowed to be there just as much as Levi. There wasn’t anything weird about it. Okay, that was a lie. It was totally weird because the only time Eren interacted with Levi was when he was working and it was easier in that situation. When he was working, it was okay for him to talk to Levi. It was his job to talk to customers, to ensure they had a good experience – like he ever actually cared about that, but still. As Levi headed to his usual seat, Eren wondered if they could quietly sneak out of the shop without Levi noticing.

“Eren! Armin!”

Damn it damn it damn it. Maybe Levi wasn’t paying attention. Maybe he’d think it was another Eren. May—nope, Levi lifted his head up and saw Sasha and Connie who both wore reindeer antlers as they tried to catch Eren’s and Armin’s attention. Whether he was confused or not that Eren wasn’t standing behind the counter, Eren couldn’t tell.

“What do you think, Eren?” Sasha asked, hands on hips in a pose.

He tried to sink further into his seat, he really did. Unfortunately he was frozen in place when Levi looked over his shoulder and spotted him.

“Shouldn’t you guys be working?” Eren snapped.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Levi asked.

“Tonight’s my day off.”

“And you spend it at work?”

Eren relaxed with a roll of his eyes. By now Armin tried to be discreet, albeit failing, as he turned in his seat to look at the object of Eren’s obsession. “I wanted coffee, and as the owner’s son I get a discount.”

“All employees get a discount,” Connie pointed out.

While Levi took his seat at the bar and Connie and Sasha took his order, Armin leaned over the table and whispered, “Him?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eren asked, offended because he made Levi sound like some kind of walking disease and if he was a disease he was the most handsome disease on two legs.

“Isn’t he… older?”

“He’s not that much older…” he trailed off uncertainly.

“You don’t even know how old he is?” Armin sighed.

Eren knew where this was going, could see it on Armin’s face, but before he could go there Eren interrupted, “Look. It’s just a crush, okay? Nothing’s going to come of it.”

Pity. That was the look Armin wore. Pity and worry for his friend who didn’t fall in love left and right, who suddenly developed an infatuation – obsession, crush, what-have-you—for an older man; his friend whose feelings often overflowed and overwhelmed because he felt a lot and didn’t know how to contain them. He could only hope it would remain just that: a crush, a fleeting obsession. “Alright. Are we still going to the party?”

Eren sent a furtive glance at Levi’s back. “I think I’ll stay. You can go.”

“Eren…”

“Stop giving me that look. I want to finish this sketch.”

Armin had to bite his tongue to point out that Eren had been ready to go to the party prior to that man’s arrival, but stopped himself. If there was one thing he knew about being Eren’s childhood friend was how stubborn he could be. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As soon as Armin was gone, Eren plopped his head on the table, gently banging against it. He should have just gone. When was the last time he attended a party, anyway? A month, two months ago? He’d been working too much to bother with a social life, and here he was, passing it up on his night off. His priorities weretotally straight. Technically speaking, his priorities went off the road and down several turns and forks and into men-loving-territory a long time ago. There was never a time in his life where his priorities were straight.

A pressing priority to find out why something was being dropped to his table had him looking up to see a very familiar messenger bag. The chair legs scraped faintly over wooden floors as it was pulled out and a very familiar person occupied Armin’s deserted seat. Eren blinked.

“I couldn’t stand to be near your coworkers,” Levi explained. His expression was almost comical – something torn between disbelief and horror – not that Eren could blame him. Before he could respond, Levi’s gaze landed on the neat pile of sketches. “You draw?”

“Oh, uh,” Eren sat up and hastily snatched them up, stuffing them between pages in his sketchbook. Embarrassment stained his cheeks. “No. I mean yeah.”   

“Not bad,” Levi said.

Normally when people complimented his drawings, they tended to gush at him with flowery words. Sometimes their compliments made him feel proud, made him feel happy, but they never made his heart take off into space like those two simple words. He shrugged in an effort to look cool and unaffected. “…Thanks. I guess.”

Eren was surprised when Levi didn’t pull out his laptop, but a book. It was written in French so Eren couldn’t understand the title. He didn’t pester Levi with questions about it because he found he wanted to draw again, his earlier frustrations gone, leaving room for clarity.

They spent the rest of the night like that, only aware of pages turning and pencil scraping paper.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: a brand new shiner

It was turning into one of those days where all Eren wanted to do was slam his fist down someone’s throat, or pick up the cash register and beat a person with it. Both prospects sounded more and more appealing the longer his night dragged on. It wasn’t as if this was an uncommon feeling in the day of the life of Eren Jaeger – anger, that was – but today, the anger was exceptionally strong. Although, anger was putting it lightly. Irritated. Pissed. Positively murderous. Not that he would actually murder anyone – he hoped – he didn’t want to go to jail, thank you very much. It was one thing after another that pushed him further over the edge, and as Eren mulled over the day, he realized he should have spent it curled up in bed and called in sick to work (unfortunately that wasn’t an option for him when his mother was also his boss).

But either way, Eren knew he shouldn’t have gotten up. How? Well, let’s backtrack to earlier in the morning when loud construction going on outside woke him up at the ass-crack of dawn. He tried to go back to sleep, he really did, but there was no going back after he was awake. After an hour of tossing and turning and burying his head beneath layers of pillows and blankets, Eren got out of bed. That was the first indication his day was going to hell. The second indication – which should have been his queue to dive back into bed and hide from the world – was when he stumbled out of bed and in his groggy state stubbed his big toe against the corner of his desk (the construction outside grew loud at this point, drowning out his spew of choice words to express the pain he was in).

For breakfast he had burnt toast. He would have had cereal but after pouring some Captain Crunch, he went to get the milk, only to realize the carton wasempty. The rest of his morning went without a hitch, thankfully – he indulged in some morning cartoons before showering and heading to school – until he left the house and got stuck in traffic no thanks to the construction outside. On top of having a shitty morning, Eren was late to his first class, received his grade back from his math exam from over a week ago – an F, no flipping way! –realized he left his backpack at home and spent the whole day at school hating his life.

And then – and then! – when he went to leave campus, Eren saw that some douchebag had smashed in the left taillight of his car! How the hell did someone manage to do that? You’d have to be an A-grade asshole to take off without letting the owner know and if he ever found out who hurt his baby he was going to rip them a new one (and as Eren raged out loud, several students wandering by looked on sympathetically because here was a fellow student who had completelysnapped. Not that anyone could blame him. It was nearing the end of the semester. Everyone lost it by then).

Eren was in a foul mood by the time he went into work. It didn’t help that every customer he seemed to have – he was exaggerating here because really it was onlytwo customers – thought he was short-changing them. His shift couldn’t go by any slower. Whenever he wasn’t looking at the door, he was looking at the clock, and by the time it was ten minutes to closing, Eren concluded Levi wasn’t coming. Eren didn’t care. He didn’t care that the last time he saw the man was four nights ago on his day off. He absolutely did not care. It didn’t bother him whatsoever. Absolutely. Not.

At 23:56, the bell chimed and Eren opened his mouth to greet Levi – who else would come in so last minute? – only to frown suspiciously. A shady character walked in, hands stuffed in his sweater pocket, hood pulled over his head, eyes fidgeting nervously.

Hence, Eren’s current predicament and the reason why he hated his life.

He really, really should have spent the day in bed. He wouldn’t be standing behind the register at that moment as the so-called shady character held what seemed to be a gun. Or at least, that’s what he made it seem like through his sweater as he demanded Eren give him all of the money in the register.

“Give me all of the money in the register.”

Eren stared at him, at the bump in his sweater and for a moment thought he should listen to the guy. He was always told to be cautious when closing the shop at night, but in all the years he worked at the café, he never had anything bad happen. The neighborhood was pretty safe and a police station was a block or two down the road, so the area wasn’t known for crime. This guy had to be one straight up fool to think of robbing there.

“Hey, did you hear me?” the man interrupted his thoughts, jerking the ‘gun’ in his sweater. “Unless you wanna get shot then hurry it up.”

Eren had one of two options: he could open the register and give the guy what he wanted, or he could say fuck him and fuck the world. Option two sounded the most appealing. Had it been any other day maybe the robber would’ve gotten away unscathed, but Eren dealt with too much shit today and he finally lost it. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

That threw the man off. “Well… yes?”

“If you were, you would have brought a real gun, you moron.”

“How the hell would you know that this isn’t real?”

“Then show it to me,” Eren urged. When three seconds ticked by, Eren nodded. “Just as I thought.”

“Listen, fucker, even if I don’t have a gun I’ll beat the shit out of you. Now –“ he reached across the counter and grabbed the scruff of Eren’s shirt, “open the damn register and give me the money.”

“God. You really are an idiot.”

“Will you just cooperate already?!”

Eren grit his teeth when the man shook him. “Why would I cooperate with you? I’m not gonna give you anything. So you can either leave or wait for the cops to get here.” The man froze at that. Eren smirked.

“You’re lying.”

“There’s a button beneath the register that alerts the cops.” A jest, but the man was stupid enough to believe it. Eren could see the horror in his eyes.

“Fucking punk.” He held Eren in place with one hand and raised his other, punching the barista in the left eye. Eren swore as he was released, a searing pain and a flash jolting his eye.

Okay, that was officially it. Eren jumped over the register and chased after the man.

“Get back here, bastard!”

“You’re not very good at that.”

The familiar voice nearly had Eren jumping out of his skin. He’d been so distracted pretending to sweep and spacing out that he hadn’t heard the door open. Eren turned around, hands tightening around the broom handle and tried not to smile – he didn’t want Levi to think he missed him or anything. Seeing him dressed as impeccably as always was like being smacked with a breath of fresh air. “Hey to you, too.”

A deeper-than-usual frown marred Levi’s face as his gaze fell on the shiner Eren was currently sporting. “You look like shit.”

“Well, thanks.”

“Do I even want to know?”

Eren shrugged, setting the broom against the counter. “It’s a harrowing tale.”

Levi snorted. He sat down at the bar. “I’m sure it is.”

“What’ll it be tonight?”

“Surprise me.”

Eren raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Hn.”

“Alright then.” There was something new he’d been dying to try, anyway. Eren hummed along to the shop’s music – Phillip Phillips’ Gone, Gone, Gone – as he washed his hands and went about making Levi’s drink: pouring cold milk into a pitcher, grinding the beans, tamping them down, latching the group handle to the machine with a cup beneath. While it filtered he steamed the milk. He tapped and shook the jug once the milk turned to a smooth froth, making sure there were no bubbles on the surface. He could feel Levi’s gaze on him as he poured the froth into the cup, keeping the jug close and centered.

“Enlighten me on that lovely bruise of yours.”

Eren spooned creamer on to the surface of the drink, pausing for a moment. “Well… I didn’t get it in a fight if that was what you were thinking. Kinda.” He dragged a small, wooden skewer through the foam. “Some guy tried to rob the shop last night and I told him I called the cops so he punched me and ran.” When he was done, he set the drink in front of Levi, nearly laughing at the skeptical look on his face. “Don’t worry. I chased after him and gave him a good beating.”

A twitch formed in Levi’s temple – he really needed to get that checked. This kid…“Did you call the cops?”

“Yeah. Filed a report and everything.”

What was done was done. That didn’t mean Levi thought him any less stupid for chasing after a robber. He dropped it though when seeing the design on the latte. It was a pair of wings that overlapped; not the most conventional pair of wings, different in a way, but still obviously wings. “Not bad.”

Eren grinned. Yeah, Levi was terrible at giving compliments, but it didn’t change the fact that it made him any less happy.

Levi took a couple of sips, ignoring the way Eren stared at him, chin in hands. The cup clinked on to the plate. “Are you just going to stand there and stare all night?”

“Oh, I was just wondering where you’ve been…” Eren trailed off. He caught himself and fumbled over his words, cheeks red with embarrassment, voice cracking with uncertainty, “I mean, not that I cared it’s just that I was starting to consider you a regular and you just… suddenly stopped coming.”

Eren only felt worse about himself as time went by in silence, Levi simply regarding him without a hint of emotion. A smirk tugged at his lips and Eren wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or worried. “I was away on a business trip. Thank you for worrying about me.”

“You still haven’t told me what you do for a living,” Eren pointed out.

“Nosy little brat, aren’t you?”

“Hey, hey, you’re nosy, too.”

Eren noticed he didn’t deny the statement. Levi leaned back in his seat, eyes glazed over in contemplation as he swirled his drink with the spoon. “The last time I was here… another friend of yours?”

He scrunched his brows together in confusion; unsure of whom Levi was referring to until it clicked, “Armin? Yeah. We’ve known each other since we were little kids. He’s like a brother, you know?” Eren’s lip twitched in irritation. “Hey, stop dodging my question.”

“I’ll tell you,” Levi tipped his drink into his mouth. Eren perked up one moment, only to deflate the next, “someday. Maybe.”

“What if I guessed and you tell me if I’m correct?”

“No.”

“Journalist?”

“No.”

“Writer?”

“No.”

“Teacher?”

“No.”

“Accountant?”

“No.”

“Secret spy agent?”

“…”

“What? It could happen.”

Levi was saved from further interrogation when another customer entered.

“Um,” Eren frowned at Levi, who hadn’t budged from his seat even after Eren took his cup, washed it, counted down the register and closed it, “Shouldn’t you be heading out? I’m kind of closing the store down.”

Levi flipped to another page of his book.

“No taking anything,” Eren said, disappearing in the back to lock up the money and get his things. He returned with his hoodie on, surprised and wary to find Levi standing patiently, leather gloves on hands and clasping his messenger bag. Eren decided it was better to not ask questions and made his way outside, holding the door open as Levi trailed after him. He expected the man to walk off then, but he continued to linger as Eren locked up the store. Completely freaked out now, Eren whipped around and pointed the key at him. “Okay, what are you doing?”

“I’m freezing my ass off while you take your sweet time closing shop,” Levi deadpanned.

“Why don’t you just head off then?”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” his expression was unaltered – neutral, apathetic, unfazed. There was something simplistic about the way he spoke; about the way he looked at Eren like him being there should be the most obvious thing in the world, “I’m walking you to your car.”

Eren was at a loss for words, only capable of gaping like a fish floundering out of water. His heart skipped a beat. “But… why?”

“You were nearly mugged. As an adult, I feel responsible for your safety.”

“You realize I’m an adult, too, right? And that I am capable of fending for myself. If you could have seen the guy, I beat his ass so—“

“Eren, shut up and let’s go. It’s cold.”

Really? Because Eren hardly noticed with how fast his heart was beating and how warm his body suddenly felt. He did as he was told and made his way to the parking lot. There were only two cars in the lot, one of which was Eren’s, located in the employee-only section. “I’m guessing that’s your car over there?”

“Hn.”

“See you around, then,” Eren said, Levi’s name stuck in his throat. For whatever reason, he couldn’t bring himself to say it, probably because whenever he was about to his hands became hot and clammy. And yet Levi could say his name so easily and send Eren’s poor heart aflutter.

Levi nodded and peeled off to his vehicle. There was no reason to walk Eren all the way to his car when he could see him just fine. Eren climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door, inserting the key into the ignition to get the heater going. He couldn’t think of anything other than the way his name sounded coming from Levi; couldn’t think of anything other than the fact that Levi waited for Eren to get off of work and escort him to his car; the fact that Levi didn’t have to, but he did so anyway; the fact that he could have made up any number of excuses – I’m parked in the same area, might as well walk together – that sounded less like bullshit thanI’m an adult.

Eren pressed his forehead against the steering wheel, touching his fingers to his cheeks. They hurt from smiling, though not as much as the throbbing bruise. He felt like he was fourteen all over again and in love for the first time. Only then did it occur to Eren how utterly screwed he was, and that yeah, his life was going to be a little more fucked up now.

But he didn’t care because of the way his name sounded on Levi’s lips.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Chocolate-y Lava with Swirly Mountain Top

There was a little girl who often came into the café with her father. She liked to order a hot chocolate topped with fluffy goodness and rainbow sprinkles one day, and a chocolate-y lava with a swirly mountain top – and extra chocolate! –another day. Her descriptions were usually different, but the order was always the same. Sometimes she demanded her father have a hot cocoa as well. Sometimes she said he wanted an adult-cocoa, the gross ones that kids couldn’t drink because it lacked fun and happiness and deliciousness. Her father would smile in utter adoration.

There was an elderly woman who would shuffle into the store and squint at the menu. She’d wonder where her spectacles went – Oh surely I hadn’t left them at home? – and Eren would try not to laugh because they’d be on her head.

There was a college student who ordered a colossal black coffee without fail. She wore a jean jacket and a pastel-colored sweater – green, pink, blue, various other colors on various other days – and a black SinaSport backpack. A SU (Shiganshina University) keychain hung from one of her bag’s zippers. She’d walk in the shop with winter in her eyes and a cold, sunless expression on her face, but she’d always say thank you with warmth in her voice. Students received a discount so he knew her name to be Annie from the times she showed him her ID.

Every now and then two large guys came in with her. Macho Man and Beanstalk were the names Eren mentally called them. Macho Man liked to order the holiday specials. Beanstalk had a particular fondness for the hazelnut macchiato. Eren would spy secret glances and touches between the two; moments meant only for them.

Keith Shadis, a friend of his parents’, came by every now and then, bringing with him the smell of whiskey and stories of his days in the army. He’d order an armored decaf.

Two high school girls often giggled when Eren would take their orders, a dancing white chocolate mocha for one and a dancing chai latte with soy for the other. The sun seemed to follow them.

A businessman who always looked like he’d been through a tornado would come with several orders. He’d drop a couple of bills into the tip jar when he’d leave.

There were plenty of other customers – all of whom had a remarkable feature about them that stuck out the most to Eren – but his thoughts always wandered back to his second favorite patron – the first being the little girl with her love for chocolate-y lava.

“One magma chocolate topped with whipped clouds and cocoa sprinkles for Her Highness Princess Lily.”

“You’re good with kids,” Levi commented after Eren exchanged a gallant bow with Lily’s curtsy. She hurried back to the table her father waited at.

Eren shrugged. “Only because they’re not mine. They’re a lot easier to deal with when it’s only for a couple of minutes.” He busied himself with organizing the shelf by the register. Cups and mugs were on display, each one decorated for the holidays. Eren adjusted one of the gift sets as he asked casually, “Do you have any kids?”

Levi snorted. “No. Kids are impossible for me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’d kill them.”

Eren laughed at his blunt honesty. That was one of the reasons why Levi was his favorite customer, that blunt honesty of his and the fact that he never ordered the same thing, it was always something different. But there was only so much they had on the menu; Levi was bound to come full-circle at some point. He still had a little ways to go, though, before that happened.

Three days had passed since Eren was nearly mugged and left with a black eye. True to his word, Levi would walk him to his car at the end of the night. And that was another reason Levi was his favorite customer – because he cared enough to make sure Eren was safe.

Okay. Who was he fooling? Favorite customer? It wasn’t that Levi was his best customer. He was the worst customer, if anything. Blunt. Demanding. Always pestering Eren: are you sure the cup is clean? Frustratingly mysterious. The man carried around a bottle of Purell, was meticulous, neat – he never just wiped his mouth, he always dabbed – held his drinks in a strange fashion, was short and had an apathetic face. Levi wasn’t Eren’s favorite customer because he was all of those things, he was Eren’s favorite customer because Eren liked him for all of those things.

And he couldn’t fathom why.

Maybe Eren was just really, really shallow? Nah. Macho Man and Beanstalk were pretty good looking. And the muscles on Macho Man? Hnngh. And he once dated someone with a horse face and boy was that a disaster of a relationship. So he couldn’t be that shallow, right?

But he didn’t fall for them instantaneously. Sure he appreciated a hot piece of ass when he saw one, but he never became irreversibly attracted to them at the blink of an eye.

Irreversibly. Oh great, Eren sighed. Was there no turning back?

He shook his head and shrugged those thoughts away. He turned to Levi, done pretending to work as he made his way behind the counter. “Professor?”

“You already said teacher. And I said no.”

They started playing this game the night after the mugging attempt. Eren would list off careers and Levi would deny it as his profession. So really, it wasn’t that much of a game when Eren was never any closer to an answer. “Doctor.”

“No.”

“Hm…” Eren narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Mafia?”

He expected Levi to snort, to call him stupid, but the man paused as his fingers curled around the edges of the cup. “And what if I was?”

Eren’s heart stuttered for a beat or two because there was a sudden dangerous flare to the man’s eyes that set his skin on fire. “Uh. I – um – I think that’d be so cool!”

“Tch.” The gleam in Levi’s eyes vanished. He tilted the cup to his lips, lukewarm green tea spilling into his mouth. “No.”

Eren folded his arms over the counter, close to Levi’s laptop. “I’ll figure it out eventually, you know.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“No, not really. But a guy can hope.”

“Why are you so determined to find out?”

Eren shrugged. “Because you’re always tapping away at your laptop and… I don’t know.” He couldn’t say because I want to know more about you. Then his crush would be as obvious as a man bursting into the shop in a chicken costume and dancing (believe it when he said it happened once). “I’m bored, okay? How else am I going to pass the time?”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” As if Eren was going to tell him anything. If Levi wasn’t going to tell him something as simple as his career, he wasn’t going to give Levi even the tiniest detail.

“I assume you go to college.”

“Yeah. Shiganshina University.” Damn it. So much for the air of mystery.

“Ah. I went there once.”

“What, like fifty years ago?”

The took this time was dangerous in an I-am-going-to-murder-you-way. He felt a sense of deja vu. Eren raised his hands in a pacifying gesture.

“When did you graduate?”

“I said I went there once. Not that I attended. Your major is art.”

“Yes.” Ugh. Eren was just willingly giving his information away without a thought. The words literally slipped out of his mouth before his mind could even tell him to shut up. “Did you graduate from any college?”

“No.” That was a surprise. Levi always looked so refined, Eren thought he came from a wealthy background and for whatever reason, that made him assume Levi went to college and graduated. You really couldn’t judge someone on appearance alone. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

“Probably be an art book editor. Or even a storyboard illustrator. So are you going to tell me what you do for a living now?”

“No.” What a waste of a question. The corner of Levi’s lips curved into a small smirk as Eren’s brows furrowed in frustration. “An art book editor?”

“Yeah. I like books.”

“That’s surprising.”

“Should I be insulted?”

“Probably.”

“Then I’m insulted.”

“Should I be apologetic?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m not.”

Eren was scowling full-force. It amazed him how infuriating one man could be. And for a man – older than Eren, to boot – to banter with him so immaturely was the most astounding part! So much for the dignified and refined appearance he always carried. Once he opened his mouth that all went out the window.

“Stop pouting, Eren.”

“I am not pouting. I am scowling in rage.”

“Okay. Why are you pouting in rage?”

“Scowling,” Eren corrected, “because. Well, because –“ because I’d tell you my life story and you won’t even tell me your career. Because I like you. I like you a lot. I like you more than I should. And I don’t know why and it pisses me off. He opened his mouth to give him an excuse, any excuse other than the ones running through his mind, but everything stopped because Levi was leaning close, too close, and he was holding Eren’s chin in his grasp. Eren’s breath caught in his throat. Levi was touching him and all he could see was the closeness of steel eyes as the smell of cologne invaded his senses.

Eren never cared for cologne. Or perfume. People always wore an obnoxious amount. But whatever Levi wore was just the right amount. He probably sprayed it on his wrist because his sleeves were rolled up and his hand was right there and whatever it was smelled musky and sweet; subtle and underwhelming, but at the same time it overwhelmed Eren’s senses completely. There was a floral tinge to it, nothing that he could pinpoint with his head spinning the way it was. Not that he knew anything about flowers to give an adequate description. Comfortable. That was a good word for it. For the smell. It made him want to bury closer to the scent. He wondered if Levi had sprayed any on his neck. If it’d smell just as good there, enthrall him just as much, lull him into a sense of comfort.

“Your bruise appears a little better,” Levi commented, unaware of Eren’s inner turmoil. Maybe he was. Maybe he enjoyed seeing Eren squirm. It was hard to tell when his facial features hadn’t changed. He tilted Eren’s head this way and that as if to get a better look at the bruise, but then he stilled Eren’s head with a firm grip, held his gaze with a just-as-firm stare. “Eren, are you listening?”

Yes, because he said Eren’s name and his heart was doing that stupid fluttering thing. His voice sounded unintelligible even to his own ears, he could only imagine how idiotic Levi must think him, “Huh? Yeah.”

Levi tugged Eren a little closer, and up close the barista noticed a hint of blue in those gray eyes. Like an all-encompassing storm. “Your eyes, Eren.”

What the hell about his eyes? Who cared about his own eyes when Levi said his name? Whenever Levi said Eren it was all he could focus on: his name being called. “Eh?”

“They’re remarkable.”

That brought Eren functioning. Somewhat. He went from being entranced to gaping at the man, but before he could ask him what was so ‘remarkable’ about his eyes, the shrill ring of a phone interrupted their conversation. Levi picked his cellphone up and frowned at the caller ID. “I have to take this. Watch my stuff.”

“S-sure.”

He pulled his coat back on, closed his laptop and made his way out of the store, cellphone pressed to an ear. Eren watched him pause in front of the window, lips moving before he wandered further down the sidewalk and out of sight. When he was sure no one was looking, his knees finally gave way and he slumped boneless to the floor. He never felt as flustered and defeated as he did at that moment. For all he knew, steam could be emitting from his body. He buried his face in his hands, willing his flushed face to cool the hell down.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. He thought he had accepted this crush before, thought he’d been prepared for how screwed he was. The truth of the matter was: he wasn’t prepared. He wasn’t prepared for these feelings or the way they set his life off kilter.

Eren wasn’t prepared for any of it, but the bell chimed and he didn’t have time to try to sort those feelings out. If it was Levi he needed to be calm and cool and collected, he needed to pretend he was okay. A lot easier said than done.

Relief swept over him at the sight of a new customer, a tall man, his blond hair neatly arranged. “Welcome to the Little Titan Café. Is this your first time here, sir?”

“Ah, yes. I was intrigued by the name,” he admitted, a pleasant smile on his lips. A little too pleasant, if you asked Eren.

“I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu.”

“That will be alright. I’ll take a double Americano,” he looked at the sample sizes, “armored? And I’ll be taking it to-go.”

“One double armored Americano coming right up.”

As Eren set about making his drink, he glanced curiously at the man. Maybe it was becoming a habit, but ever since he met Levi, he’d compare every good looking guy to him. This customer was obviously taller than Levi – your average man was typically taller than Levi. He wore nice clothing, a gray scarf wrapped around his neck as blue eyes scanned the shop with interest. Eren supposed he was handsome if you liked normal looking men like him. And despite that pleasant smile on his face, Eren couldn’t bring himself to like it.

He set the finished drink on the counter. “Here you go, sir.”

“Thank you,” the customer said, eyes twinkling as he reached for his cup. There was a strange tilt to his lips as he regarded Eren, a secret that he wasn’t getting, like he knew something that Eren didn’t and that was impossible because they’d never met before. His eyes lowered to Eren’s nametag. “Have a goodnight, Eren.”

There it was again, in his voice. Secretiveness. Maybe it was his imagination and he was still on edge from his earlier encounter with Levi. Maybe he was being unnecessarily harsh on a complete stranger. Maybe –

The café door opened and Levi entered. The customer turned around to leave and as if in tandem, the two stopped when their gazes clashed. Levi didn’t look too pleased. “Erwin? What the hell are you doing here?”

– nope. Eren hated the guy. Hated him with a passion. Hated his stupid handsome face, his stupid combed hair, his stupid, most-likely designer clothes, his stupid smile, his stupid eyebrows – like seriously what was up with his eyebrows? Hated him more than anyone, anything. And it was completely unreasonable of Eren but here was someone who knew Levi, who was tall and handsome and did he mention that he knew Levi?

“Oh, hello Levi. Fancy running into you here. Convenient because I needed to talk to you.”

Fancy. A total coinky-dink. Right.

Levi’s expression darkened. “Let’s talk outside.”

“Take care, Eren,” Erwin said, flashing flash Eren one last smile – was that mockery he saw? – before turning around to leave the shop. Eren was blinded by white-hot anger as the two left together, both standing a little close, Erwin’s hand on Levi’s shoulder, their voices lowered as they started talking.

The door shut.

Eren couldn’t understand himself anymore. He couldn’t understand the pain in his chest that burned. He couldn’t understand his emotions. They were all over the damn place. And he couldn’t understand this unnatural hatred towards a man he interacted with for a good minute or two. Give or take thirty seconds.

Levi returned to his seat later. Eren didn’t know how long he’d been gone. Five minutes. Fifteen. Thirty. It could have been less or longer but it all felt the same – never ending with his heartbeat pounding violently in his ears.

Eren swallowed thickly. His throat felt dry. He needed to calm down. “A… a coworker of yours?”

“Something like that.”

There it was again. A twinge of pain. And Eren understood what it was, he understood it so much that the knowledge of it only hurt him more. That customer – Erwin or whatever – was a man. And Eren was just a college student working part time at his mother’s coffee shop because there’d be no way any other place would hire someone as temperamental as him. Erwin and Levi probably did work together. They probably knew a lot about each other.

Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, but Eren couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t help this bit of darkness that clouded any reasoning. He couldn’t help the jealousy that festered.

Eren left the conversation at that.

He felt defeated.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Rivaille

“Care to explain what you’re doing here?” Levi asked as the door shut behind them, the cold air assaulting his face.

“Grabbing a cup of coffee,” Erwin said confusedly. “Why else would I be at a coffee shop?”

Levi’s frown deepened, unable to refute his point. “You know what I mean.”

“Hanji has mentioned you’ve been avoiding her lately. And your work.”

“I got it done, didn’t I?” Levi’s arms were crossed as he tapped an impatient finger. This conversation was proving pointless. “If you’re only going to continue wasting my time, I am going to head back in where I won’t freeze my ass off.”

“I was curious. Hanji had said you mentioned an ‘Eren’ before,“ Only once, Levi grumbled. Erwin glanced through the coffee shop window, his gaze momentarily catching Eren’s. The barista’s face turned beet red at being caught staring and he quickly turned around and fumbled with the espresso machine. Erwin smirked. “No wonder you’re so smitten.”

Levi refused to rise to the bait. His tongue clicked irritably, drawling out, “Whatever it is you want to say just say it.”

“We were concerned, that was all. But clearly our worries were unnecessary.” Erwin reached inside of his coat and pulled out a black covered book. He held it out to Levi, “I also wanted to give you this.”

Levi took it without looking at the title. “Is that all?”

“Yes. Take care,” and with a wave, Erwin walked off.

Thank god. Now he could go back inside where it was warm.

A couple of weeks earlier

Levi paused as his cellphone vibrated. Hanji Zoe lit up on the screen, but rather than answering, he pressed the power button – not before glancing at the time. 22:25 – and slid the phone back into his coat pocket. Like hell was he going home just so Hanji could come bursting into his apartment and harass him with work. So naturally, he had grabbed his things and left before she got there, with no destination in mind, only knowing that he needed peace and quiet.

He had plenty of that at the moment. Pedestrians were scarce, partially because it was night, and mostly because it was cold. Most people were inside by now where it was warm. Just like Levi needed to be. He hated the cold. He hated winter. He hated anything below 21 Celsius. His current mission was to find somewhere warm and peaceful although at 22:26, his only options were going to be bars or 24-hour restaurants, neither of which were peaceful.

Then again, he could probably go for some alcohol. Anything strong to drown away the annoying ache in the back of his skull. The past couple of weeks had been nothing but stressful when it came to work; filled with sleepless nights and no time to unwind.

Levi blinked and lifted his head. Despite the darkness, there was a bright light emitting from his left and he shifted his gaze in that direction. He was confused at first, unsure of what he was seeing, until his eyes focused on the almost vacant shop inside and the words Little Titan Café curved over the glass. The hours on the door read M-Sa: 6:00AM – Midnight and Sundays: 6:00AM – 22:00. It was hard to see anything else inside with the chill that fogged the window, but that didn’t matter. He found his warm and peaceful place for the night. No one would find him here.

As Levi pushed the door open, there was a jingle of a bell and the instant relief of warmth melting away the stiff coldness that had settled in his joints. He glanced around the shop curiously – anything called the Little Titan Café had to have something strange about it – but nothing seemed odd. It was a cozy place with what looked like a couple of college students doing work, drowning out the outside world with earphones. There was a sign on one of the walls with the Wi-Fi information (Free Wi-Fi Access! JAEGER Pw: youaretheprey) printed in colored marker and strange little creatures doodled around the page. Okay, that was a little odd.

He heard the barista greet him with a “Welcome to the Little Titan Café,” but hadn’t glanced over just yet. There were a few paintings hanging around the walls; some of people and places. A sign pointed towards the restroom and a bar with stools was attached to the register counter. Levi’s eyes lingered over the display case with the sample sizes – Colossal, Armored, Dancing – until landing on the last oddity in the café: a scrawny, mop-haired, brunette male.

Levi resisted the urge to ask what the kid was looking at because he was staring at Levi with large green eyes. As he drew closer to the counter, Levi wasn’t even sure if they could be described as green. But his attention was drawn to the red tinting the barista’s cheeks, to the way he fidgeted with his apron the closer Levi got. It was painfully obvious to the man that he was trying to remain cool.

Levi set his bag on the table and occupied one of the barstools.

“W-wel—“ the barista tried to greet him again, but the words got caught in his throat. The smile he put on was forced, but it didn’t belittle the fact that this boy, kid, whatever – Levi was aware that he had to be older than a kid to work at a coffee shop – was a pretty thing. Even he had to admit to that. “Welcome to the Little Titan Café. Is this your first time here?”

The words sounded rehearsed. Not that Levi cared. He was more amused by the way the barista’s hands tightened subconsciously around the apron. He turned his gaze, however, to remove his coat because it was starting to feel a little stuffy now. “Yeah. Why is this place called that?”

“My mom thought the name would make people curious enough to come. Seems to have worked on you, didn’t it?”

“That’s true. Your mother owns this place?” He received a nod in return. The barista seemed to relax over their casual exchange, but he’d shyly glance at Levi’s face and quickly look away. Eren. His nametag read Eren.

And as Eren spent the night fumbling around with jitters, Levi couldn’t help but compare him to a mouse. The way he fidgeted. The way his eyes couldn’t focus on one thing but was always drawn to Levi’s face. The way he seemed nervous and flustered. Levi wondered if he scared easily.

But he was more than just a nervous, little mouse. He had confidence. Maybe a suicidal tendency with the way he’d provoke Levi with snide comments.

He was awkward and nosy, always trying to find things out about Levi.

He was interesting and idiotic – trying to hold a cup the same way Levi did, only to spill water all over himself.

He was gullible – Eren squeaking, thinking he had rabies.

He was reserved with his smiles, but when he did smile, it lit up his face and those eyes and he was bright and beautiful and it held Levi’s heart in a way that left him breathless.

He filled in the silence. He filtered through the cracks, forceful and warm. He was expressive and stupidly endearing and Levi couldn’t seem to leave the kid alone no matter how much he told himself to.

And his eyes were a vivid green and blue; utterly, astoundingly remarkable. They were the kind that romantics wrote odes to; that inspired unnecessary description because it was a necessity to get the point across. They were the kind that made Levi wonder when he became a sap.

Maybe it was the way he lit up – all radiant and eager – whenever Levi came around, or maybe he was like that with others and Levi just didn’t know. Maybe it was the need to possess that smile, those eyes so they only held him. Maybe it was the way he was both shy and brave around Levi. Maybe it was the way he was contradictory in various manners that Levi couldn’t leave him alone.

That he kept coming back, night after night, drawn in by the light of the café.

Present

It was strange. The brat was being quieter than usual, i.e., he wasn’t talking. The fact that said brat was putting forth actual effort to clean only proved that there was something wrong. What the hell had happened between his phone call and after his talk with Erwin? Had Erwin said something to Eren? No. It wasn’t his style to provoke someone like that.

Maybe he was mad at Levi? His unfinished tea was no longer warm. Levi scowled.

Sure he had touched the kid – ugh, that sounded wrong – and sure he had given him a compliment and that whole exchange had been a little weird but was it really something to be mad over? Damn brat.

Levi sipped his cold tea and narrowed his eyes on the barista. Eren’s back was to him as he mopped the floor behind the register.

Look at me.

Eren’s arms moved side to side.

Look at me, you shitty brat.

His hands tensed around the handle, shoulders stiffening. Yeah, that’s right; no one could ignore one of Levi’s penetrating glares for long, so look at me.

Fortunately for Eren, he was saved by the bell and Levi wanted to annihilate the customer.

That didn’t last very long and Levi was back to fixing Eren with his gaze. Whatever happened to the idiot that was always looking at him with that stupid, goofy smile? He’d prefer being harassed with twenty-one questions to this. Which was weird, Levi thought, because he liked the silence, didn’t he? And sure, Eren was somewhat observant at times when Levi wanted to be left alone, but most of the time he treaded those dangerous waters with fearless curiosity.

“Eren,” Levi called out, annoyed that he even had to. Shouldn’t he, as the employee, make sure Levi was a satisfied customer? He expected Eren to turn around at the sound of his name, but he didn’t, seemingly too preoccupied with cleaning the damn floor. Which was good, Levi thought. Cleaning was good. This brat was finally doing his job and Levi should be proud but he wasn’t. “Eren. Oi. Do your job and get me a refill, you shitty brat.”

“Oh, sorry,” Eren said, finally turning around, head lowered as he grabbed Levi’s cup and went about making him fresh green tea.

Damn it, the look on his face did nothing to alleviate Levi’s irritation. Eren looked dejected, but it twisted every now and then as he tried to appear casual. His shoulders would slump in defeat when the effort proved futile. Levi wanted to ignore it. He wanted to open his laptop and resume his work, or peruse the internet, whichever caught his fancy. But he couldn’t because this dejected brat was glooming up the joint, his negativity practically palpable and making it hard for Levi to focus.

That was why, when Eren went over to set the tea down, Levi grabbed his wrist and held Eren’s arm in place. Startled, his eyes widened and if Levi wasn’t pissed, he’d take time to appreciate the blush that spotted his cheeks. Okay, just ask the kid what was wrong, that was all Levi had to do…

“Stop looking like you’re about to cry.”

Good going. A+ adult right here.

“I-I’m not about to cry,” Eren protested, his gaze darting anywhere but at Levi, a spark of anger flashing across his face. There were no hint of tears anywhere, but if pissing him off was the only way Levi would get any kind of reaction, then so be it.

“Really? Because the way you’ve been hanging your head like a kicked puppy would say otherwise,” Levi said, voice snide. He wanted to shut up, really. But he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t as if he wanted the kid mad. He’d take his goofy grins any day.

“I have not,” Eren started to say, fidgeting uncomfortably, “The cup is hot, can you please let go?”

Levi released his hold, albeit reluctantly. Eren set the cup down with a clink. His lips pursed as he rubbed his wrist – not that Levi had been holding on tight – brows furrowed so deeply they were nearly intersecting.

“I just have a lot on my mind,” he mumbled.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Well, my head has been hurting.”

Levi regarded him with a deadpan stare. Was this kid for real?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Yeah, this kid was for real and it didn’t make Levi feel any better. Any better about what exactly? “Nothing. Are you done sulking?”

“I wasn’t –“ Eren protested, his voice trailing off in a gasp. “Is that—?”

Eren was staring at the black book with round, wide eyes. The cover was plain, with only the word “RIVAILLE” printed on the front in bold, silver letters. Levi picked it up, noting the way Eren’s eyes remained glued to it in reverence. “You read ‘Rivaille’?”

“He’s only like,” he didn’t stop staring at it, not even as Levi waved it side to side, “my favorite writer.”

“Oh?” Something must be wrong with Levi, because his heart skipped a beat. He didn’t think he was old enough to have a heart attack just yet. “Then, you know what this is?”

Levi wanted to smack him. Eren was biting his lip and it was distracting. “Yes. Isn’t that… isn’t that his collection of poetry? That’s not even published yet?”

“Mhm,” Levi drawled out. Eren looked like he was going to whimper. Or cry. And Levi found he didn’t mind this time. A sadistic part of him wanted to see the kid beg. “I didn’t know you liked poetry.”

“Some poetry, yeah,” Eren said absentmindedly.

He was like a cat watching a laser pointer, ready to pounce.

“How did you get your hand on that?”

“I know the author.”

Eren spluttered, “You know the author?”

“I enunciated it clearly the first time. Perhaps you should get your hearing checked.”

“Can I – can I look at it?”

Levi left him hanging for a couple of seconds, enjoying the way he squirmed with impatience. “Here.”

Eren held the book with nimble fingers, as if afraid it would dissolve into dust at the touch of his hands. Levi took a sip of his tea. “You know, Rivaille’s the reason the café is named the way it is. My mom’s a fan, too. She was inspired from his first book Attack on Eoten. Well, she got me reading his books in the first place.”Attack on Eoten was about the looming extinction of mankind due to giants, and mankind’s struggle to find a way to defeat the Eoten with the creation of something called 3D Maneuver Gear.  

The tea went down the wrong pipe. Levi started to cough.

“You alright?”

“Yes,” Levi croaked, grabbing a napkin to dab the spittle and bits of tea from his mouth. Sly brat. “That story has a tragic end. Everyone dies.”

“Yeah,” Eren said with a hint of wistfulness. “But it was gory and violent and action-packed. I thought it was cool.”

Typical.

Eren flipped through the pages in silence, his eyes glossing over a few words in wonder before he shut the book and handed it back to Levi. The man waved a dismissive hand. “You keep it.”

“Wh-what?”

“I don’t like to be questioned.”

“But –“

Levi glared, daring him to argue. Eren gulped and held the book against his chest. A vibrant smile flittered across his lips. “Thank you.”

He really was a sly brat. Always saying things at the right time. Smiling at the right time. Levi set his gaze down and lifted the tea to his lips. “Isn’t it about time to start closing?”

Eren glanced at the clock placed near the menu. 23:52. “Oh, shit. Yeah.”

The smile remained on his face as he proceeded to count down the register.

“…what was your favorite book of Rivaille’s?”

The brat would not stop talking about Rivaille for the past twenty minutes. It took Eren longer to close up shop because he wouldn’t stop talking, and Levi was almost jealous of Rivaille. Almost. But that would be silly of him. For various reasons, one of which was: there was no reason to be.

“None of them.”

“But he’s your friend, isn’t he?” Eren asked, aghast. The door clicked and Eren pulled the key out from the lock. “You have to have a favorite book.”

“I don’t.” Levi turned on his heels and hastily made his way towards the parking lot. The thumping of shoes over pavement assured him that Eren was jogging to catch up.

“You know, for a short guy, you sure walk fast.”

“And you really need to learn to think before you speak.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because that mouth of yours may get you killed someday.” Namely by Levi.

“Oh, well, that’s okay because you’ll protect me. I mean, you always walk me to the car at night, so…” Eren turned his head away. Levi didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing. “But I could totally protect myself, just so you know.”

There was no winning against him, was there? “Sure you can.”

“No, really,” and for whatever reason, Eren was leaning towards him, hugging his book tightly, brows furrowed in determination. Even in the dark, his eyes were visible.

With a palm to his face, Levi shoved him away. “Yeah, yeah. Get to your car.”

Eren wished him a goodnight and did as he was told. At least he wasn’t sulking anymore.

Damn brat.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Heart Problems

It was a Saturday night at the Little Titan Café, the shop somewhat crowded with students from SU. There’d be no studying or working on homework tonight, simply because they were all in high spirits. Then again it was a Saturday night so homework was the last thing on their minds.  But that didn’t explain to one particular patron why a bunch of college students were at a café, celebrating from the looks of it. Normal college students would be out at a bar, getting hammered, plastered, drunk – whatever the hell kids called it – not sipping a macchiato and pumpkin lattes.

Levi downed half of his black coffee in one go, relishing in the scorching heat. He was tempted to grab his things and leave. There was no way he’d be getting any work done in this atmosphere. Truthfully, he should have turned around the moment he saw the amount of people inside of the store, but then he spotted the stupid brat’s face and his feet had brought him inside before he knew it.

As if on queue, said stupid brat suddenly appeared, looking haggard from all the orders he and his coworker had to deal with. Despite that, he grinned at Levi as he finally caught a break, “Sorry about all the customers.”

“Is it normally like this on a Saturday?”

“For the most part, yeah,” Eren nodded. “But most of the people here are from SU’s women’s volleyball team. They’re celebrating making it through regionals.”

That would explain why most of the customers were women.

“One of my best friends is on the team. Oh, by the way, I haven’t finished the book yet, but,” Eren paused in thought, “I love it so far. It’s just that…”

Levi quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but it seemed like something changed for Rivaille halfway through?” When all he received was Levi’s blank stare, Eren scratched his cheek, glancing away shyly, “Almost like something good happened?”

“Who knows,” Levi said.

“I’m guessing you’re not very close with any of your friends.”

“Not really.”

“What’s he like?” Eren asked with hero-worship in his eyes. It pissed Levi off, irrationally so, because he was worshipping a faceless man. Sort of. Faceless in the aspect that Rivaille didn’t exist, but Levi did. He’d never felt the desire to confess to his alias before. Ever. Until now.

But he didn’t. “Rivaille’s an old pervert.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You’re not the one who knows him,” Levi pointed out, taking another large gulp of his coffee, suddenly wishing he was at a bar instead. That was where old perverts like him belonged. At a bar. Drowning in alcohol. Not at a café where an innocent-looking barista served you night after night with foolish optimism.

He could see the thoughts flashing across those eyes – green, but not quite green; blue, but not quite blue; turquoise: a body of water without all of the impurities – frustration, denial, the protest that formed in his mind that was caught behind pursed lips. Eren couldn’t argue against Levi because what he said was true. He only knew the words on paper, not the person who wrote them. But were they really that much different? The writer and the story? The artist and their drawings? Sure, you could draw and write something completely radical of who you were as a person, but if you looked close enough, you could usually find the little hints of the creator; footprints of their personality.

Eren wanted to say all of that to Levi, but what was the point? In the end, Levi was right. His shoulders sagged with the breath he released, “Well, for an old pervert, he’s a great writer.”

Levi snorted into his cup. Eren ran off after someone called him, probably one of his friends, leaving the man alone to his thoughts, almost like something good happened, repeatedly crossing his mind. What the hell was that brat talking about? His writing hadn’t changed as far as he knew. Hanji, his editor, hadn’t said anything – but then again, whenever he saw her she always had a silly smile on her face, sillier than usual. Erwin hadn’t said anything, either.

He gnawed on his thumbnail irritably. Tch. That brat was sprouting nonsense, that was all.

“Was it really necessary to invite everyone here?” Eren asked once he joined Mikasa and Armin at their table. Five empty packets of sugar surrounded Mikasa’s drink as she stirred her tea. “ Not that I’m not happy to see you guys, but this is a café, not a bar.”

Besides, it cut into quality time with Levi. But it was almost worth it seeing the man look so out of place amongst a crowd of people.

“It was Coach Rico’s idea,” Mikasa said, soft-spoken as usual. Armin had to put a pacifying hand on her wrist to stop her from stirring her drink further, a habit she couldn’t break. “You know how she is. She would never encourage alcohol. And it was her treat.”

Eren sighed. He didn’t think there was anyone in SU who didn’t know who or how Coach Rico was. She was known for her Spartan-training and her inability to tolerate failure (which was probably why the women’s volleyball team was headed to nationals, unlike their male brethren).

Mikasa went to grab another packet of sugar, but Eren’s pointed frown had her retracting her hand, “Maybe you should cut back on all of the sugar.”

“…If you think that is best.” She wrapped her hands around the cup. “Did you tell your mother about the attempted mugging?”

“Yeah.” Eren made a face. He hated making his mother worry, but she would have found out one way or another. But mostly he hated the babying it involved. “She said they’ll be back sometime next week.”

Every couple of years, Eren’s parents left close to their anniversary to take a month of vacation. One time they went backpacking through Europe. Another time they went to explore the African safaris. Another year was Australia. And another was a road trip through the United States. This year it was backpacking through South America. If his parents were one thing, it was definitely adventurous.

Eren glanced around the shop. He recognized some of the varsity team members from the times he’s been to Mikasa’s games, such as Mina, Hannah and Sasha, but he knew her better from working with her – and Ymir, who both played on the team and did theater. He was surprised when spotting Annie, one of his regular customers. “I didn’t know Annie was on the team.”

“You would know if you were able to make any of the games,” Mikasa chided gently. Both of them knew he couldn’t help it when he was working a lot, “She joined this year.”

“I always pictured volleyball players as… tall.”

“She’s an excellent player,” Armin injected, his gaze on Annie as well. Beanstalk and Macho Man were with her.

“Who are those guys with her?” Eren asked. He’d seen their SU IDs plenty of times in the past, but their names were always hard to remember.

“The blond one is Reiner Braun. He’s on the rugby team. And the tall one is Bertholdt Fubar.”

Eren nodded. Macho Man and Beanstalk were easier to remember. “I have another question.”

Armin tilted his head. “What’s that?”

Eren set his chin on his hand and narrowed his eyes, glancing sideways to the seat at his right. “Why is he here?”

Jean paused mid-sip, looking offended, “I can be here if I want to. Besides, I’m here with Mikasa and Armin. They’re my friends, too, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be here, horseface.”

“Don’t forget you dated this horseface.”

Eren cringed. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

“Rude.” Jean took a sip of his drink, nearly spilling it when he burned his tongue. “Damn it, Eren.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re stupid.”

“It’s almost hard to believe you two even dated,” Armin mused. “All you two did was argue. And that hasn’t changed.”

“We did more than just argue,” Jean leered, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Eren gave him a good shove.

“Shut up, dumbass.”

“What else did you two do other than argue?” Mikasa asked, causing the boys to freeze. Her gaze moved from Jean to Eren, dark blue eyes giving away no emotion.

“We… played video games,” Jean said, voice squeaking at the end. Eren nodded a little too enthusiastically.

“Yeah. Video games.” Well, that was partially true. Being confused, sexually frustrated teenagers left little to no time for video games, what-with their raging hormones and violent temperaments getting in the way of anything else.

“So, Eren,” Jean said, quickly changing the topic to something less dangerous for himself, “Armin was telling me you have a crush on an older man.”

“Jean,” Armin hissed.

“Armin!” Eren rounded furiously on his friend. “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“It was a slip of the tongue,” he looked guilty. “He was asking about you and—“

“I was not,” Jean scoffed, but anyone could tell by the redness of his ears that he was lying. He’d always been a terrible liar.

Eren covered his face with a frustrated groan. He had made Armin promise him he wouldn’t tell Mikasa about Levi, and that’d been about it, so he couldn’t completely blame Armin. Oh shit, Mikasa. He peeked through his fingers, noting the way she was stilled in her seat, a deadly calm of nothing plastered on her face. That was never a good sign. Maybe if he could sneak away under the pretense that he needed to get work done…

“An older man, Eren?” Mikasa finally spoke. Her voice was steel. Ice cold steel. “How much older?”

Eren scowled. “I don’t know, and it’s not a big deal, okay? It’s just a crush.” The word crush left a bitter taste in his mouth. For some reason, it was a lot harder to get that word out compared to when Armin first discovered his feelings. And now he was left feeling angry and frustrated with the three pairs of eyes staring at him – one guilty, one cold and worried, and the other, well, Eren couldn’t understand Jean’s stare. Confusion, perhaps?

“I didn’t think it was serious,” Jean commented, breaking the silence that had settled over their table. “But it’s written all over your fa—“

Eren abruptly stood up. “I need to get back to work.”

“Eren,” Mikasa said in one of those we-are-going-to-talk-about-this tones that normally would have had Eren sitting back down. But not tonight. Not with Jean there. A hand, however, grabbed his wrist. Eren turned his head towards Jean. “What?”

Jean opened his mouth to say something, as to what Eren couldn’t even fathom. With a shake of his head, he released Eren’s wrist and turned away to glare at nothing in particular.

Eren walked off in a huff. He couldn’t bother to care what Jean wanted to say, or why he had that expression. If anything, Jean even bringing up his crush only reminded Eren why they didn’t last long and why they broke up to begin with. The damn horseface never knew how to filter what came out of his mouth. Granted, it wasn’t as if Eren knew how to, either, but that was beside the point. The point being that Jean was an insensitive asshole. Still was.

But none of that mattered, not when Levi was sitting at the counter, and that was enough for whatever tension that had built up in Eren to go away.

Coach Rico had kicked everyone out of the café around 23:00 – it’s late, stop loitering around this place like a bunch of hoodlums – much to Eren’s relief. He sent his friends off with less hostility, seeing as how Armin had apologized for his slip of the tongue and Jean looked apologetic, and while Mikasa didn’t look happy, there was still acceptance.

“I’m done, Eren,” his freckled-faced coworker said as he came out of the back, apron off and jacket on.

“Thanks for all of the hard work today, Marco,” Eren said. He had offered to help Marco clean up the dishes, but being the nice guy that he was, Marco had insisted he do it by himself. And Eren being who he was – a slacker who did whatever he could to shirk his duties – could only accept. Marco was the Little Titan Café’s most recent hire, his mother having hired him before she left for vacation.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay until closing?” Marco asked with a worried furrow between his brows.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve closed plenty of nights by myself.” Too many, really. But the closing shift was the most ideal one for him.

“Alright. I’ll see you around. Have a goodnight, Eren.”

Eren waved him off. He sat down on one of the barstools, too tired to stand. The shop had completely emptied out with the volleyball team’s and friends’ departure, so now it was just Eren and Levi. Just. Eren. And Levi. That thought had him sitting straight. It wasn’t the first time he’d been alone with the man, but normally there was a lingering customer until close to closing time, so they were never truly alone until Eren closed up shop. There was still forty-five minutes left on the clock. Forty-five minutes of just them.

He never felt so self-conscious before.

“What do you keep looking at?”

Eren jumped. He hadn’t even realized he was repeatedly glancing at Levi. “Oh, nothing. Just trying to figure out what you’re working on.”

“I’m looking over something,” Levi muttered, a hint of bewilderment in his tone. That was odd. Normally Levi sounded like Mikasa, now that Eren thought about it. Composed. Neutral. Minus the feminine voice.

Eren folded his arms over the counter and rested his head over them. The day felt unbearably long and his shift had gone by in a flurry. But now with the ticking clock and the little clicks of Levi’s laptop as he scrolled through something, time seemed to finally slow down. “A detective?”

“No.”

“Mall cop?” Right. Because a mall cop could afford the clothes Levi wore on a daily basis.

“No.”

“Janitor?”

“Now you’re just grasping at straws.”

“You’re an heir of a really rich family so you don’t do anything. I just think you do.”

“No. Good guess, though.” Sarcasm oozed from every word. Eren couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“You visit orphanages during the day and spread cheer to all of the children, and by night you write novels and you use most of that money and donate it to charity.”

“I’m no saint, Eren.”

He tightened his arms, his heart moving a mile per minute at the sound of his name. He hated his reactions. They only reminded him of Armin’s pitying look, Mikasa’s worried stare and Jean’s confused one. His name coming from Levi was power held over him, and the man didn’t even know it. “Okay then. A hitman.”

“No. Explain what you meant earlier.” Eren blinked at him in confusion. “About Rivaille’s writing being different.”

“It’s not that his writing changed,” Eren corrected, “more like… the emotions he put into it?”

“I see.” Levi’s eyes narrowed at the screen of his laptop. No, he didn’t see. All he saw as he scoured his drafts was that he’d turn into a total sap halfway through. Why hadn’t anyone told him? He was going to send Erwin and Hanji a few angry messages. When Eren stopped talking, he looked down to see the brat had closed his eyes. Levi reached over, intent on shaking him to get up and work, but his hand lingered over the mop of brown hair a little too long before he composed himself and pulled away. “Stop sleeping on the job, brat.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, prying his eyes open with some effort. “I was up later than usual reading the book.”

There was a strange pang and stutter in Levi’s heart. He wondered if he was at that age that he needed to be concerned about his health. Perhaps it was time to see a doctor. “Sitting there isn’t going to keep you awake.”

“That’s true.” Eren sat up, stretching his arms up high enough that his shirt lifted, exposing a bit of skin that had Levi enthralled and his heart doing a painful thump. This kid was going to be the death of him. “Did you want a refill?”

“Yes,” Levi pushed his empty cup towards him, unable to look Eren in the eye. He hopped off the barstool with the cup and returned to his post behind the register. As Eren made his drink, Levi considered coming to the café less. That was the only solution to keeping his sanity, and his life.

But as Eren started to hum along to some shitty pop song that played from the speakers, Levi didn’t think it was possible to not come. He’d probably suffer through caffeine withdrawals – you could always go to a different coffee shop, a voice chided. Like that popular chain, Star-something. All coffee shops were the same to him. So long as they made his drinks, that was all that mattered.

Except, not all coffee shops had a certain barista working there. There was only one café in this city, only one coffee shop where he was served by a certain person. And something told Levi it wasn’t the caffeine he was addicted to.

“Here you go.” Eren slid a drink towards Levi, a blush blooming across his cheeks when their fingers brushed in that cliché way that wasn’t accidental on Levi’s part. The kid blushed. A lot. He wondered how far he could push Eren, how red Eren could turn, if he turned red anywhere else. If just anyone could make him blush like he did around Levi.

It was definitely not the caffeine he was addicted to.

OMAKE

“So what seems to be the problem?”

Levi took in deep breaths as the doctor instructed, moving the stethoscope here and there. “My heart hurts and skips beats.”

“I see. Are you normally under a lot of stress when this happens?”

Levi thought about the brown-haired barista with his turquoise eyes. “No.”

“How often do you feel the pain?”

“Mostly at night when I am at a café drinking.”

“Hm…” The doctor moved the stethoscope to Levi’s back, encouraging him to repeat the deep inhales and exhales. “I don’t hear anything out of the ordinary.”

“That’s because there’s no brat around.”

“I see.”

—Later—

Physician: Dr. Hanji 
Medical Condition: ur in love
Prescription: get laid

Levi crumbled the paper. “What the hell is this you shitty doctor?!”

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Caffè Mocha

There was an unspoken law that dictated as soon as you were alone at work – Eren had gone out to take out the trash – customers would suddenly appear; appearing thirty minutes after absolute boredom and Marco goofing off with Eren. It was only two customers, thankfully, so Marco Bodt thought he’d be fine taking care of them on his own. He smiled politely at the young woman, probably around his age, dimples crinkling at the corners of either of his eyes, “Welcome to the Little Titan Café. How can I help you?”

The bell chimed and another customer entered the shop. The woman opened her mouth to order, but was rudely interrupted when the newest patron suddenly forced his way to the front of the line, “I am in a rush, so I need to order.”

Marco stared in shock at the man, smile faltering. There was an air of importance about him that Marco caught in the tone of his voice and the impatient look in his eyes. “Um, excuse me, sir, but there’s a line—“

“Does it look like I care? I’ll take a colossal decaf.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but you’re going to have to get in line.”

“I have somewhere to be. Or did you not hear when I said that I am in a rush?”

Marco smiled patiently. “It’s past ten-o’clock at night, sir. I’m sure wherever you have to be can wait. Now if you could please step to the back of the line?”

“Now listen here you ignorant punk, I work for a big company, you got that? I don’t have some dead end job, “ Marco let out a gentle sigh. So this man was one ofthose types, “and I have a conference call with some big people from different parts of the world in a little bit. And if I am late for that meeting because you refuse to do your job, I promise you I will get you fired. I’ll see to it that you’re never hired anywhere else.”

“I apologize, sir, that you decided to get coffee so close to your meeting, rather than being prepared for it ahead of time, but you’re going to have to get to the back of the line.” Marco’s smile widened as he tilted his head, “You will be late for your meeting if we continue to argue over this.”

“That’s why I’m saying just make me my damn coff—“

“What’s going on here?” Eren finally returned from taking out the trash. The two other customers looked uncomfortable over the encounter. The businessman’s voice raised with every word he spluttered at Marco, cheeks tinged an angry red.

“This punk refuses to make my coffee,” the businessman pointed out.

“This customer cut in front of this woman,” Marco corrected, “and refuses to get in line.”

“Get in the back of the line,” Eren said with less patience than Marco.

“Excuse me?” the man scowled. “This is an outrage. Where is your manager?”

“Oh, let me get him.” Eren disappeared in the back, only to come back out two seconds later, an all-too pleased smirk on his face. “What seems to be the problem?”

The customer slammed the side of his fist onto the register counter. “I will not stand for this. Do you know who I am?”

Eren’s face fell flat. “Listen, asshat. Even if you were baby-fucking-Jesus I stillwouldn’t give a rat’s ass. Now,if you’re not going to get in the back of the line, then get the hell out of my store.”

“Give me the store owner’s number. I will see you both fired.”

“Good luck with that,” Eren snorted. “I’m kind of her son.” He received far too much satisfaction in the way the man’s face turned a bright furry of red. By now, the other patrons sitting in the shop had taken off any earphones they were using to hear what all the commotion was about. “I’m only going to ask nicely one last time: remove your fucking presence from my store. You’re disturbing the other customers.”

The businessman glanced from Marco to Eren, debating whether he could push his luck any further. Marco looked like a pushover with his pleasant attitude and all Eren had going for him were his scowls which – let’s be honest – weren’t that intimidating. But he caught the look that passed over the freckled-barista’s face, a look that wasn’t kind at all, something that halted any further thoughts of harassing them further; a look that reflected hell. He swallowed thickly. “F-fine. But I’m never coming back again. You just lost my business.”

Eren sniffed haughtily as the businessman stormed out of the shop. “That’s right, you better leave.” He turned to Marco, whose expression had returned to its usual softness, and patted him on the shoulder. “There we go. Got it all handled.”

“Thanks, Eren,” Marco chirped. He turned to the female customer who stared up at him in awe, “Sorry about that, ma’am. Now what can I get you?”

“Your number,” she squeaked, instantly turning red. “I mean. Um. I’ll have an armored caramel latte.”

As Marco went about taking their orders with Eren making them, Eren couldn’t help but be impressed with the new hire. Even with that businessman practically yelling at him, Marco had remained calm through the whole exchange. He remembered when Sasha had her first terrible costumer; she’d been ready to burst into tears and wouldn’t calm down until she had food to nibble on. Connie flipped the bird at his first – thankfully it was only Eren there, and not many other customers around, so word hadn’t gotten back to his mother. Other employees hadn’t handled their first terrible customers well, either. Eren nearly punched his and would have done so had his mother not held him back.

He still remembered that day rather fondly. Some idiot thought he could get away with claiming that Eren short-changed him. That happened way too much with customers.

“I don’t know how you can be so patient,” Eren commented after they were done with the patrons.

Marco shrugged. “I worked as a waiter before this. I think it toughened me up a bit.”

Something told Eren that it had more to do with his nature than working at a restaurant. “You should have gotten that girl’s number. She was cute.”

“Ah,” a hint of a blush made his freckles stand out a little more, “nah. I don’t… uh…”

Eren nodded in understanding. “Oh, no, I get it. You’re taken.”

“No, no,” Marco waved his hands. “Nothing like that. It’s just that, I’m…”

“You’re…?”

“You know…”

“I don’t know…?”

 “I swing the other way.”

“Huh?”

“I bat for the other team.”

“What? I don’t really know anything about baseball.”

Marco sighed. He took a step in front of Eren and set a hand on his shoulder just as the shop door opened and the bell jingled, “Eren, I’m gay.”

“Oh, okay.” Eren turned his head towards the entrance, beaming at Levi who was halted in place. The frown on the man’s face was profound, an unreadable emotion flickering in his eyes as he stared at Marco and Eren. “Hey, Le—“ He gulped the name down, wondering how he ever said it the first time, “er, welcome back!”

Marco removed his hand, a cold chill coursing through his body as Levi’s gaze passed over him. He glanced at his wristwatch, “You got this, Eren? It’s time for me to clock out.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

Marco nodded and hurried to the back, desperate to remove himself from the man’s line of sight. Was it him or had the customer looked murderous? An inkling as to why had him smiling.

“So what’s it gonna be tonight, oh short and mysterious one?” Eren asked with a grin.

Levi approached the bar with a tch. He dumped his messenger bag on the counter, “Triple shot colossal mocha.”

“Whoa. Long day at the office?”

Levi removed his coat. “I don’t have an office.”

Eren fiddled with the espresso machine, “So you don’t work at a company or anything? Do you work from home?”

“Yes.”

Double whoa. That was the most honest thing Levi had ever said about himself. After not having an office, that is. Eren tried to think of jobs that people could do from home, “Are you a web designer or something?”

“No.”

Darn. “Computer software engineer?”

“No.”

“Are you one of those teachers that teach online?”

“I already said no to ‘teacher’ and ‘professor.’”

“Are you sure you’re not a writer?”

“I am sure.”

“See you, Marco,” Eren waved as Marco headed out, his steps quickening when catching Levi’s gaze. “He sure left in a hurry. Can’t really blame him, I guess.” He set Levi’s drink down.

“You two seem close,” Levi said, bringing the large cup closer to him.

“Marco’s a nice guy.”

“Do you like nice guys?”

“Eh? I guess.” Eren furrowed his brows at the question. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was an underlying meaning that he wasn’t getting.

Levi raised the cup to his lips and blew into it. “So you like guys.”

“W-well, yeah,” Eren mumbled, wondering how the conversation went from Levi’s career to Eren’s sexuality.

Levi took a careful sip. “And you like… him.”

“What? No! I mean, yeah he’s a nice guy, but he’s just a friend.”

“I see.”

“You’re being really weird, you know that? Not that you’re not weird. Just weirder.”

Levi set his drink down, unperturbed by Eren’s remark. His posture was relaxed, and as far as the rest of the world was concerned, appeared tranquil if not for the shadow in his eyes. There was always a shadow in his eyes, but tonight it was darker. More menacing. “I suppose you’re right.”

“You normally don’t agree with me, either. Did something happen at work?”

“Is that any of your business?”

It was a sting to Eren’s heart; a reminder that he was an employee and Levi was a customer, and that was all that their relationship entailed. And for once since Eren met Levi, he felt bitter towards his vague and cryptic nature. Sometimes he felt close. Other times, like now, he felt distant and unapproachable. “No. I guess not.”

“Do you want to know why I won’t tell you what I do?”

Eren blinked. “Yes?”

“Technically I have two jobs.”

“Well that’s not fair. Now I’m going to have to guess both things.” Levi really was being weird and strangely forthcoming, but despite that, Eren doubted he’d come clean about either of his jobs. “But that still doesn’t explain why you won’t just tell me. It’s not like I’m going to go blab to anyone that you’re an undercover cop. I promise we’re not cooking meth in the back. It just looks like it.”

“…”

Eren set a comforting hand over Levi’s. “Unless you’re into that. Do you sell pot or something? Are you a drug dealer? Is that it? I can get you into a support group for that addiction.”

The deadpan stare Levi gave him was worth it because the shadow in his eyes lessened. “Do I look like a drug addict or a dealer?”

“A fancy drug dealer, sure.”

The fist Levi’s hand was curled in loosened, the graze of fingers against Eren’s inner wrist startling him into realization that he had touched Levi. He was about to pull away, but those fingers wound around his arm in a tight grip. Eren’s heart hammered loudly in his ribcage and he was sure Levi could hear it. “Do you normally touch people so freely, Eren?”

The way Levi said his name made Eren think that he was completely aware of Eren’s reactions; he enunciated each syllable, dragged out his name with a roll of his tongue, lowered his voice to a husky timber. It didn’t help that he brushed his thumb along Eren’s vein in a caress, purposeful or not it drew a shiver from Eren in the process. “No.”

He tried to look at anything else, anywhere that wasn’t Levi. There were only two customers left in the café but neither was aware of Eren’s inner turmoil. One was preoccupied with their laptop, while the other was packing up to leave.

“Do you normally let people touch you?”

It took Eren a moment to process that the question wasn’t the same as the first. “Um. No. So can you let go?”

“You didn’t protest when your coworker touched you.”

Eren furrowed his brows. “Marco? What are you talking about? All he did was –“That was when a thought struck him. A beautiful, glorious thought that had his heart beating faster in a different way. He met Levi’s gaze this time, so bright and hopeful it knocked the man off kilter. “Are you – are you jealous?”

Levi dropped his arm, his guarded façade up full force. “What is there to be jealous of? I am simply making a point that you are too open, too easy to take advantage of.”

The whiplash Eren felt hurt like a bitch. It was amazing how quickly Levi could go from hot to cold, to burning Eren’s insides only to dump a bucket of ice cold water. “That’s… the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. That’s not the kind of thing you say to a guy.”

Levi gave a small shrug. He retrieved his laptop from the bag, indicating the end of their conversation.

Eren was cleaning the tables around the shop, which was all well and good for Levi because he wasn’t actually doing work. He couldn’t even think about work right now, not when he’d come close to getting himself a first class ticket to hell. If he didn’t have one already. Which he probably did.

What the hell had possessed him to grab Eren like that? No, he knew exactly what. Levi wasn’t good at playing stupid, nor was he a stupid man, and all he could think about was coming into the shop and seeing that freckled brat touching Eren and how it snapped something inside of him. His sanity, maybe. Probably his patience as well. His morals, even.

God. Eren was at the least ten years younger than him and Levi had wanted nothing more than to kiss the stupid brat because he had to go and look hopeful at the prospect that Levi was jealous.

He ran a hand over his face, pausing midway to shield himself from the reality of his own perverseness. Was he having a midlife crisis? Was this what it was? But damn it, Levi was only thirty-two. It was too early for him to have one of those. Then again, he’d always been mature for his age. Maybe he was getting to that part of his life early, too.

Levi was pretty sure Eren had a crush on him if that hopeful look was anything to go by, or the way he always blushed around Levi, or those little glances Eren thought were discreet.

And all he wanted to do was take advantage of that innocent crush.

Yeah, Levi was definitely going to hell.

It didn’t help that he talked to Hanji earlier in the day about his book and what Eren had pointed out – how something had changed. He could hear Hanji’s smile over the phone and wanted nothing more than to strangle her because of her teasing responses. I get what you’re saying, Levi~ why don’t you tell me what’s up? Something good? If you ask me, it sounds like you’re in lo-.

He hung up before she could finish.

Erwin had been no help, either. You’ll figure it out.

Well fuck you both very much.

Why the hell did he come to this café again? It seemed as if every night he came, he was questioning his morals and testing his patience. It was like a game: let’s see how long he could go without jumping the bright-eyed barista.

He would welcome it, the old pervert in him whispered.

And fuck if Levi didn’t know it to be true.

And why, why, why had he told Eren he had two jobs? He was slipping up big time. He was getting too comfortable, too easy going, too open. And Levi couldn’t have that. His mind, his heart, his life felt a mess and it was no thanks to Eren and to think all he had to do was smile.

That was why his book infuriated him. He needed control in his life, and writing had always been that one thing he had absolute control over. But apparently thatwent topsy-turvy as well.

But no more. Levi was going to regain control of his life and his writing. Inspiration had struck him for a continuation of Attack on Eoten that went something along the lines of a boy saving mankind from the giants. And yeah, maybe Levi envisioned him with blue-green eyes.

Just as he was ready to crack down and get working, his cellphone rumbled over the counter. Once. Twice. Three times. A text message. Levi picked it up and frowned at the screen.

Auruo: We have a problem, boss.

Oh whoopty-fucking-doo. That could only mean one thing.

It was barely 23:00 and Levi had to leave. Someone was going to pay for this. Most likely with their life. He shut his laptop and slid it back into his bag, quickly finishing the rest of his drink that had turned cold during his inner crisis.

“You’re leaving already?”

Damn it. Did the brat have to sound so dejected? Levi set his cup down and pulled his coat on. “Something came up with work.”

“Oh, okay. I hope it’s nothing too bad.”

Levi grabbed his bag and turned to face Eren. It was obvious the barista was wondering if he had done something wrong, thinking Levi was simply trying to be nice and tell him a lie. No. Wipe that stupid look off of your face. Before he could stop himself – his hand had acted without permission – Levi was placing said hand over Eren’s head. His hair felt as soft as it looked. “Don’t get into any trouble getting to your car later.”

“I-I won’t,” Eren stammered, clearly taken aback. His ears were red, and it only spread to his face when Levi suddenly gripped his hair and tugged him a little closer.

“And don’t let anyone touch you again. Do you understand me?”

He was done caring about morals and age and being a responsible adult. He’d do whatever he could to not hear that dejected voice or see it on his face. This brat was his to mess with and no one was getting in the way of that.

“I – yeah,” Eren said in bewilderment. “Wouldn’t that include you?”

“I’m an exception, brat.”

Levi released him and made his way out of the shop, pocketing his phone after sending Auruo a text message.

Levi: This better be fucking important.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Spiced Pumpkin Latte

There were doodles of Carla Jaeger’s “titans,” small-sized versions of them – some with Santa Clause hats, one of them carrying a bag of presents, another riding a sleigh – that Eren had drawn around the chalkboard. The special was written in red and green chalk, along with Happy Holidays! That could only mean one of two things: (1) Carla Jaeger was back from vacation and insisted Eren be a little more festive, or (2) Eren did it when he was bored. Really, really bored.

As Jean tore his gaze away from the board, he spotted Eren coming out from the back sporting a red Santa hat and a petulant frown, and could only assume it was because the Little Titan Café’s owner was home.

“When did you get here?” Eren asked, his frown twitching deeper.

“Just a minute ago,” Jean smirked, “Nice hat.”

“Shut up. What do you want?”

“A dancing white mocha latte.”

“Alright.”

Jean nearly laughed when Eren set the drink down a few minutes later. An angry face gazed back at him from the foam. “Bad day?”

“Sorta.” Eren sighed, leaning against the counter with an elbow. “Ever since my mom’s been back she’s just been harping at me that I didn’t do a very good job of watching the store. So she—“

“Eren Jaeger!”

Said barista winced at the evident ferocity in the feminine voice. Carla Jaeger came out from the back, hands on hips, and a very familiar scowl on her face. It always disturbed Jean how much Eren looked like his mother.

“What now?” Eren asked, doing little to mask his exasperation.

“Don’t you ‘what now’ me, mister,” she brandished a piece of paper in her son’s face, “Care to explain this?”

He squinted at the paper, barely making out what looked like an ‘F’ marked in red. “Were you going through my stuff?”

“No. Your bag fell over and everything spilled out, so I went to fix it and saw this. I dearly hope you’re not failing your math class.”

“It’s just one F. I’m passing,” Eren said flippantly, not choosing to mention he had a D. “Besides, should we really be discussing this here?”

“Oh.” Carla flushed in embarrassment. She flashed an apologetic smile at Jean. “Hello, Jean dear.”

“Hi, Mrs. Jaeger,” Jean greeted with a polite smile of his own, “How was your vacation?”

“Oh it was wonderful,” she gushed. “I have pictures if you want to—“

Just as she started to reach in her apron’s pouch to pull out said pictures, Eren interrupted, “Mom. Go home.”

“But—“

Eren started to usher her to the back, “You’ve already shown your pictures to every customer you’ve helped.”

“I was going to stay and help close the store.”

“Not necessary.”

“Bu—“

“Go.”

“—t.”

“Home.”

They came out the next second later, Carla’s jacket on and her purse shoved unceremoniously into her arms while Eren continued to hurry her out of the shop. He opened the door and pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek, “I’ll see you later.”

Carla sighed. “I’ll leave dinner for you in the fridge. Be safe locking up.”

“I will,” he couldn’t help the smile on his face because locking up meant Levi and being escorted to his car. Carla narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but turned around when accidentally bumping into someone.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized to the shorter man, who stepped aside to allow her passage.

“No, it’s my apologies, ma’am.”

“Call me if you have any problems, Eren,” Carla said as she walked off to her car. Levi stared after her with what could only be described as curiosity, Eren thought. It was hard to tell what this man was thinking.

“Your…?”

“Mother.”

“Ah.” Levi stepped into the shop as he slipped off his leather gloves, “You look a lot like her.”

Eren groaned. “Please tell me you weren’t just checking out my mother.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. You were looking at her funny.”

“I can assure you that I was not checking out your mother.”

Eren frowned. “Is my mother not hotenough for you or something?”

Levi scoffed, muttering, “It’s not your mother that I’m interested in.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Eren felt… a little awkward. For one thing, Jean and Levi were sitting near each other – Levi at his usual seat near the register, and Jean a couple of stools down. It was only awkward because one of them was his ex-boyfriend, while the other was the object of his current infatuation. He was almost positive there was nothing to be concerned about when Jean and Eren were over and each other and Levi didn’t feel the same. Or at least, that’s what he thought. It was hard to tell with the man when he flip-flopped with his interactions: being cold one moment, only to tell Eren no one but Levi was allowed to touch him the next.

He paused mid-pour.  

That was what Levi had meant, right? When he said, and he quoth, “I’m an exception, brat.”

Just thinking about it – the way Levi touched him, held his hair; gentle despite his attitude – brought his face aflame. It was strange, really, as he recalled all the times they’d ever touched. Not once had Levi been rough. There had been a perceptible firmness, a hint of the mercilessness that lurked below, but it only left a flutter in his heart, a lingering warmth he couldn’t shake. It haunted him in his dreams. It haunted him during the day when he dreamt awake. It haunted him right then and there, making his knees feel weak.

One of those wobbly knees of his banged against the counter cabinet, knocking him out of his stupor. Eren finished pouring the steamed milk into the cup, topped it off with a dash of cinnamon and turned around, carefully setting the spiced pumpkin latte in front of Levi.

“…”

“What’s that look for?”

Levi had glanced at his drink, only to look back at Eren and quirk an eyebrow. “…A heart?”

Lo and behold, designed on the surface of the latte was a heart. A stupid heart. Eren resisted the urge to smack his forehead. How the hell had that happened? “I…I’ve been making hearts for people all night, okay? It’s a very common design after the rosetta.”

“I thought you hated doing heart designs,” Jean spoke up. Stupid, moronic Jean who needed to shove his foot in his mouth, or up his ass. Preferably both.

“Mind your own business,” Eren hissed, shoulders raised defensively. He hurried over to where Jean sat, determined not to look Levi in the face, “Shouldn’t you be heading home to your old hag? She’ll probably start to worry if you’re not home by curfew.”

“Oh please. You live with your mother, too.”

Eren was going to slap his hands over Jean’s mouth – or his fist down his throat, whichever – but the words do you normally touch people so freely sounded loudly in his head. His hands curled into fists at his sides, anger and embarrassment heating his body. He shushed Jean with a finger to his lips instead, “Shh.”

Didn’t he know Levi was right there and that the man could probably hear him?! Ugh. Just let the ground swallow him up right now, please and thank you.

“Anyway,” Jean trailed off, giving Eren an odd stare, “I wanted to see if you had a partner for the project.”

“Project?”

“You know, for speech class?” Jean sighed. “Did you seriously not pay attention at all today?”

Eren remembered being at class, but actually being there was a different matter altogether. He’d been too busy debating the ways he could make his raid team suck less so they could further progress into heroic Siege of Orgrimmar*. And when he wasn’t thinking about a virtual reality, his thoughts always wandered back to Levi, specifically the other night and just what the hell had that been about exact—.

“Hel-lo. Earth to Eren Jaeger.”

“Yeah, sure. What’s the project?”

“She gave us a handout…”

Eren scrunched his brows together, vaguely recalling a paper given out during class. “Alright. Yeah. I’ll look at it later. But yeah, I’ll be your partner. You could have just texted me.”

“I wanted a drink, and I didn’t think about the project until after I got here.”

Eren was going to contradict him, but the ringing of Jean’s cellphone interrupted their conversation.

“Old hag? Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’. Woman. Chill. I –“ Jean held the phone away from his ear, wanting nothing more than for someone to kill him at that moment. “This is why I can’t wait to move out.”

“Have you found anyone to move in with yet?” Eren asked as the angry tirade continued from the other end of the phone.

Jean sighed. “No.”

“I may know someone,” Eren said. A couple of nights ago Marco had been saying he was looking for a roommate because Eren had been complaining he needed to move out. While he wouldn’t mind sharing a place with Marco, Eren was hoping to get a place with Armin and Mikasa.

“You offering?”

Eren rolled his eyes. “Hell no.”

“Well I’m offering.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“No.”

And Eren could see that Jean was being serious. He gulped, feeling oddly uncomfortable. Sure they were friends now, but it’d still be weird, wouldn’t it? Moving in with your ex. “Um—“

The loud scrape of cup to plate sounded sharply in the café, drawing Eren’s attention from Jean to Levi. He abruptly stood up. “I need to use the restroom.”

“Okay…?”

As Levi slid off of his stool, Jean caught his gaze and a cold chill passed over him. Not an it’s-cold-outside-chill, but an everything-feels-clammy-and-sweaty-and-why-is-it-cold-and-hot chill. Beneath those steel eyes was underlying hostility, pure vehemence and something else that he couldn’t quite place that rooted Jean to his seat in fear. It was unnerving that a shorter man could instill such absolute terror in him.

“What’s his problem?” Jean asked when the strange, little man disappeared.

“We were probably annoying him,” Eren explained, glancing at the laptop. “He usually comes here every night to get work done in silence.”

“Bit of an overreaction if we were annoying him,” Jean said, bringing the phone cautiously back to his ear. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll see you in a little bit.” He hung up. “Seriously though. We should get a place together.”

“No way.”

“Why do you make it sound like living with me would be terrible?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Eren ticked off his fingers, “because we argue a lot.”

“We haven’t been arguing much lately.”

“You’re a slob.”

“So?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“So are you.”

“Oh and we also dated before. Awkward.”

“Oh. Oh.” It was obvious the thought hadn’t occurred to Jean until then as his eyes widened in realization. “Right. My bad. I just thought we were both good by now that it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Well damn. “We are. Living together would still be awkward. Who knows what could happen? We could either end up hating each other way more or maybe some side thing would start up, and we can’t have that,” Eren narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Unless that’s what you wanted.”

Jean was already standing as he pulled on his coat. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, smirking in a suggestive way that used to drive Eren crazy – in a good way. “Maybe.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah. You dated this idiot once.”

“Stop reminding me.”

As Jean left the Little Titan Café, it struck him what that other emotion that man had in his eyes; after the hostility and vehemence was an overbearing amount of possessiveness, as if he’d been trying to tell Jean to back the fuck off. He lingered outside of the shop, glancing through the window as the creepy man returned to his seat. Even from outside, between them and the foggy window, Jean could see the way Eren’s face lit up and everything fell into place.

He debated going back inside to warn Eren away from the man, but it wasn’t any of his business. And Eren never looked at him that way when they “dated” – with a look of complete and utter adoration.  

Heels clicking over pavement, Jean walked off.

A dark cloud hung over Levi. Or an aura, whichever. Either way, Eren could practically see the tendrils of darkness oozing from him.  

“I’m sorry if we disturbed you while you were working,” Eren said. Possessed. The way Levi hammered away at his laptop made him seem possessed.

He didn’t respond to Eren.

“Jean is a friend, you see.” The cloud seemed to darken at the mention of Jean. “Just a friend.”

It relaxed a miniscule bit.

“We dated once.”

Pitch black.

“But that was a while ago. We’re totally over each other.”

A dark gray.

Eren bit his lip, resisting the urge to laugh. “He thought it’d be a good idea if we shared a place, but I pointed out that it would be awkward so it’s out of the question.”

The cloud faded to a dull gray. Levi’s fingers worked less frantically over his keyboard.

“So I apologize again for disturbing you.”

Levi’s usual cool façade returned. He finished the rest of his drink before holding the cup out to Eren. “More.”

Eren smiled and took the cup.

“Dentist.”

“No.”

“Veterinarian.”

“No.”

“Retired Navy Seal.”

“No.”

“Are you secretly a member of Daft Punk?”

“Do I look like a member of Daft Punk?”

“You know who they are?”

“I don’t live under a rock.”

“Do you pretend to be them under their helmets? Like some kind of stuntman?”

“No.”

Eren tapped a fist against an open palm, “Ah! I know! Do you work for Rivaille?”

With an elbow on the counter, Levi rested a cheek against his knuckles. “Something like that.”

“Are you his publicist? Editor? Is that what you’re always doing? Editing his stuff and typing up lots of constructive criticism? Although it’s probably more like mean criticism. Poor guy.”

“Stop jumping to conclusions, brat.”

Eren shrugged, a small smile on his face. All he could do was jump to conclusions, after all. Maybe he was just a little, teeny, tiny bit obsessed with the man. Just a bit. “Guess I’ll start closing up shop.”

As Eren went about closing the shop – taking Levi’s cup to clean it, counting down the register, wiping down the counters – Levi’s gaze followed him discreetly. He had come to the shop with the plan to work on his next novel. He got some work done, but most of the night was spent ruminating over that shitfaced brat openly flirting with the other shitty – albeit stupidly cute – brat. Levi would have been perfectly content to stew in his anger, but Eren had to go and calm him down, almost as if he knew Levi was pissed about it.

Oh that sly little shit.

As nights wore on, Levi found it harder and harder to concentrate on his work when he was always much too preoccupied watching Eren flutter around. Like now. He always muttered to himself, most of which Levi couldn’t quite catch, typically in irritation because sometimes the register was unbalanced. Or Connie left a half-finished drink on the counter. Or damn it Sasha, you left crumbs everywhere. It was always funny when he’d close the register on his fingers, or forget to take the tray of money out after he locked the POS system down.

Sometimes he was clumsy. Sometimes his shoelaces were untied and he’d stumble over them.

It was also damn endearing watching him scratch his head as he balanced the register, shifting that ridiculous Santa hat. It was evident Eren had completely forgotten he even wore it.

Levi shut his laptop and slipped it back into his bag. He spotted one of his many pens sticking out from one of the pockets and a thought crossed his mind. A bad thought. A thought he should completely disregard, but he couldn’t, because Levi accepted that he was going to make the brat his – not necessarily admitting it in those words, but he did now, okay?

He was going to have some fun in the process.

And so, without further ado, Levi took one of his pens and tossed it flippantly behind the counter. It clattered loudly, catching Eren’s attention. “Oops,” Levi drawled. He pointed at the red pen that slipped against the opposite counter, “Can you get that for me?”

“Sure,” Eren said, bending down to pick it up.

And as Eren bent over, a contented smirk lazed its way across Levi’s lips.

Oh-ho~ not bad. Not bad at all.

Oh Levi, you are a sad, strange little man.

It was cold outside, probably one of the coldest nights they’ve had in a while, and Levi wanted nothing more than to hurry into his car and turn the heater on. Eren felt the same way as he hurriedly locked up the store with shaky fingers. He had left his gloves at home.

Levi tch-ed as Eren took long to lock the door. He knocked the barista’s hands away and took the keys, inserting it and locking it himself before returning the key to Eren. “Don’t forget your gloves next time.”

“S-sorry,” Eren stammered from the cold.

“Come on,” Levi said, hurriedly tugging Eren along by his scarf. He was too cold to protest as he blundered after the man, nearly slipping on an ice patch. “I’ve been meaning to tell you: Rivaille is writing a continuation for Attack on Eoten.”

“R-Really?!” Eren gasped, eyes widening in excitement. “But… why now? It’s been years since the first one was written.”

“He was… inspired.”

“I see,” Eren grinned as they stopped at the parking lot. He stood there as ridiculous as ever with his teeth chattering violently whilst valiantly grinning. The tip of his nose was already pink, as were his fingers, and Levi clicked his tongue again and grabbed his hands. Beneath the fluorescent light of streetlamps, Eren appeared pale, but there was some color to his cheeks as his pulse thrummed animatedly while Levi rubbed Eren’s hands between his own.

“He also wanted to commission you to design the front cover,” Levi continued casually.

Eren was too shocked to say anything, let alone react as Levi pulled his gloves off and slipped them onto Eren’s hands. “Wh-what?”

“We’ll talk more about it next time,” Levi said, wrapping Eren’s scarf tighter around him. “Goodnight, Eren.”

“Goodnight,” Eren said faintly.  

He blinked, finally registering the gloves he wore. They were warm around his hands, probably because Levi had worn them first. They were a little loose around his fingers, but surprisingly snug.

Well, he hoped Levi didn’t expect him to return them.

OMAKE

“No, but seriously. I know someone who’s looking for a roommate.”

“I dunno. I don’t want to room with someone I don’t know,” Jean said.

“He’s a nice guy.” Eren remembered the girl who asked for Marco’s number, “Cute, too.”

“I’m not really looking for a ‘cute’ roommate, Eren,” Jean deadpanned.

“Yeah, I know. But I think you’d like him.”

“Sure.” Jean thought of the strange, little man who scared him and shuddered. “Because you’re such a fine judge of men.”

Eren smirked. “True. I dated you, after all.”

“…”

“You dug yourself into that one, horseface.”

“Shut up. Just shut up.”

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's Special: Wings of Freedom

The sun was shining. The sky was clear. It was cold but Eren was warm in his jacket, scarf and leather-gloved hands that clutched his sketchbook.

There used to be days where the sight of the Little Titan Café brought nothing but dread. Working there some days wasn’t so bad if he didn’t have obnoxious customers, but most of the time the idea of work had him dragging his heels the rest of the way from his car. But that stopped being the case a few weeks ago. Even on cloudy days there was always a small bounce to his step. Even on bone-chilling nights his body burned with anticipation. Even when the rest of his day turned to shit, his nights always ended pleasantly and he’d fall asleep with a light heart and a smile on his face.

His change of mood didn’t go unnoticed by his closest friends, especially one Mikasa Ackerman who noticed everything about Eren. Such as the fact that he hadn’t let his sketchbook out of his sight all day, or the fact that he’d open it up with the intention to draw, but he’d stare off in space dazedly. And when he did draw, it was always of the same man. The very thought of this man – this older man who Eren had a crush on – had Mikasa balling her hands into fists. Whoever he was, he’d better not be playing around with Eren’s heart otherwise she’d obliterate his very existence from this world and the next.

She relaxed as Eren held the door open to the café, allowing Mikasa to enter first. Their faces were instantly warmed by the heater inside.

“I’m gonna put my stuff in the back,” Eren said, disappearing while Mikasa went to grab one of the few available tables. Connie and Sasha were working, along with a freckled boy Mikasa vaguely remembered – Mark or something. She spotted Carla as she came out of the back, their gazes meeting. The elder woman smiled and waved.

Eren joined her after she was settled in her seat –coat hanging over the back of the chair, their convenience store purchase sitting in the plastic bag that lay on the table, her red scarf still on – slouching across from her, sketchbook still in hand. He put it down in favor of shuffling through the bag and taking out a box of chocolate pocky.

“Eren,” Mikasa said as Eren flipped through his sketchbook, munching his snack absentmindedly.

“Hm?”

He stopped on his latest sketch, pulled his mechanical pencil out from the bindings and resumed his work on it.

“Who are you always drawing?”

His left hand – his drawing hand – tensed around the pencil, halting for a millisecond before pressing back down to the paper. Eren didn’t look up as he grabbed another pocky with his right hand. “What?”

“It’s that man, isn’t it? The older one that you like.”

This time a piece of pocky went down the wrong hole and Eren had to thump a first over his chest to catch his breath. When he didn’t answer, Mikasa slid her chair back and stood up, “I’ll go get us drinks. What do you want?”

“Just a dancing hot chocolate,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

When Eren was sure Mikasa wasn’t looking, he frantically scanned through his book, thinking Mikasa must be mad to think he was always drawing Levi. That couldn’t be the case, right? He had to have drawn other stuff. Other things. Other people. But nope. There was Levi holding a cup. Levi on his laptop. Levi writing in a notebook. Levi’s hands. His forearms. His smirk. His slanted eyes and the tilt of his head and the angle of his jawline and his unbuttoned collared shirt and the curve of his neck and – Eren slammed his forehead down against the table.

Never had he felt like a total creeper until that moment. His obsession with Levi wasn’t sane or rational. Originally he wanted to start on drafts for the cover of Rivaille’s next book, just little things to show Levi until he learned more details about what Rivaille wanted. But as Eren sat back up and turned to his latest sketch, that hadn’t happened at all. He ended up drawing Levi as he’d been the last night he saw the man: calm as he warmed Eren’s hands, nose red beneath the pale glow of the street light, breath visible as he spoke.

Mikasa returned a couple of minutes later to find Eren in a catatonic state. She sat down and placed his drink in front of him. “Eren,” she called.

His name had him jolting back to reality, face twisted in despair as he bemoaned, “What am I going to do, Mikasa?”

Her sigh was gentle and small. People said a lot of things about Mikasa, Eren knew. That she was stone cold. A stoic bitch. Heartless. That she only cared about Eren and Armin. A lot of the times Eren would get angry and yell at them, or resort to physical violence because Mikasa wasn’t any of those things. She was tough, yes; the strongest person Eren knew. She could kick ass and render a grown man helpless. But she wasn’t heartless or cold or any of those cruel things people said about her. She was soft-spoken and gentle and always, always had her heart in the right place.

“Do you like him, Eren?” she asked for his benefit. Because Eren was not at all aware of his surroundings most of the time, let alone his own feelings, and most of the time things had to be spelled out to him.

“I guess,” he grumbled, sinking lower in his seat.

The sharp look Mikasa fixed him with had him scrambling to sit up straight and proper.

“Alright. Yes, okay? I like him. A lot.”

As soon as the words left him, Eren felt completely and utterly liberated. Sure he had thought to himself plenty of times how screwed he was with his feelings for Levi. But admitting it out loud freed him of a weight he didn’t know he’d been carrying. He felt nothing but gratitude for his childhood friend.

“Thanks, Mikasa.”

She shrugged as she took a careful sip of her drink. “Don’t misunderstand me. If he steps one toe out of line, I will destroy him.”

It was probably best that Eren kept to himself the few times Levi had touched him. Not that he planned on sharing those moments with anyone. Ever. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I hope so.”

Eren was having a hard time concentrating on work later that night. Nothing new there. It seemed as if Eren’s mental capacity to operate was proportionate to Levi’s state of dress.

Today, Levi was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt (there was a coat and scarf and an identical pair of leather gloves that he had taken off. Eren wondered how many pairs of the same gloves he owned). There was always talk how men who wore suits all the time looked exceptionally fine in casual clothes – jeans in particular. The same could be said vice versa. Eren had never been interested in anyone enough to experience it himself: until now. And did Eren mention that Levi was wearing a t-shirt? Because it was an exceptionally snug t-shirt and it showed off his biceps and lord were they exceptionally fine, indeed.  

Unfortunately they made Eren’s arms feel like twigs.

Maybe he would start going to the gym.

Pfft. Right. Now there was a thought.

Considering the shape Levi was in, he had to go to the gym. No one naturally had a toned body, or nice biceps, and toned forearms, and what was beneath the shirt? Probably abs. Nice abs.

Eren had to smack himself to keep his mind from wandering any further. He didn’t want to have to deal with a bloody nose, or a – ah – much harder problem. It didn’t help that lately Eren was feeling all kinds of sexual frustration. Partially because he couldn’t remember when he last got off without the help of his hand, and because he’d been having dreams lately. About Levi. About Levi touching him. Kissing him. Holding him. Doing things to him that didn’t belong in a PG-rated story.

And yeah, he had a lot of soiled boxers that needed washing.

He was starting to think that the real reason he was attracted to Levi was because of his body. Let’s face it, the guy wasn’t exactly anyone’s definition of handsome. He was short. Rude. Didn’t show much emotion. And when he did smile it was usually a teasing smirk. And when he did smirk at Eren in that way, a crinkle would appear at the corner of his eyes and he seemed a decade younger and his eyes were brighter with something other than apathy. He was gentle with Eren every time he touched.  

Okay, okay, maybe his crush wasn’t as shallow as he wanted to believe it was. He only wished it was. It would make getting over Levi much easier.

Eren really needed to get his thoughts in order. He was starting to sound like a lovesick twelve-year-old girl whose life revolved around boys and dresses. Minus the dresses. Which brought back dark, forbidding memories of younger days when his mother would dress him up as a girl because aww, doesn’t Mikasa and Eren look so cute having tea parties? And sometimes she’d force Armin to dress up as well, and he looked much better in dresses than Eren did. His mother did little to hide the fact that she wanted a girl, but she was perfectly happy having a son and didn’t bother to try and have a daughter after Mikasa and her family came into their lives. Mikasa was as much of a daughter to Carla and Grisha Jaeger, just as Armin was like another son. The three of them were all the children his parents needed.

“Are you done with my drink yet? I’m getting old here.”

Eren smiled and turned around, handing Levi his drink. “You’re already old.”

“Tch. And you’re still a brat.”

“How old are you anyway?”

“Thirty-two.”

“Oh. I’m twenty-two.”

“See? Still a brat.”

Eren tried really, really hard not to pout. He didn’t want Levi to think of him as a brat. What he wanted was for Levi to see him as an adult. “I am of legal age, you know. So not a brat.”

“Legal or not, your mentality is that of a brat. Therefore you are a brat.”

“Whatever. Are we going to discuss the details of the cover for Rivaille’s book?”

He was going to prove that he could be adult-like and brush off insults and act professional. Maybe after this little project was over, Levi would see that Eren could be serious and diligent. Maybe he’d see Eren as a man.

“Yes, but you were taking so long to make my drink that I nearly forgot.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway,” Eren grabbed his sketchbook from the back counter and set it down over the bar table, already turned to a clear non-Levi page. He clicked his mechanical pencil, “What exactly is Rivaille looking for, for the cover?”

Levi folded his hands together as he rested his chin over them, his gaze regarding the blank piece of paper and the excitement in green-blue eyes. “In order to get into that, I’ll have to tell you a little about the book.”

Levi kept the details to a bare minimum, only telling Eren that it takes place one-hundred years later after Attack on Eoten and that a third branch of the military is established: the Scouting Legion. The Scouting Legion actively goes out of the walls in order to explore and reclaim territory from the giants. Because of this, they have a lot more involvement with the giants than the other two branches, the Stationary Guard and the Military Police.

Eren was a little disappointed not to get any more details other than that, but it was a miracle all on its own that he was being commissioned to design the front cover. Unless it was all Levi’s doing, in which case it probably wasn’t a miracle.

“I have a question.”

“What?”

Eren was playing with the corner of his sketch book, running the edges over and over with his finger as he tried to remain casual. “Did you… tell Rivaille to let me design the cover? Because I told you about my dream?”

“I don’t tell Rivaille to do anything. It was his own idea.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “But how could it be his own idea to have me do it if he’s never been –“ His eyes widened. “Has he been here?!”

Levi hid his smirk behind his cup. “Once.”

“Wow. I wonder if I talked to him. When did he come here? What does he look like?”

“Eren, calm down. Your fanboy is showing.”

His cheeks burned with embarrassment and Levi knew right then and there that it was a good idea to give Eren the job. There were varying definitions of the word fun. Levi’s version of fun involved watching Eren get excited, flustered and embarrassed. He was glad he gave Eren the job because he liked seeing the boy get excited over it; he liked seeing the spark in his eyes. Although it probably wouldn’t be so fun if Eren ever found out that Levi was the author he so worshipped.

Levi returned them to the task at hand, hashing out the details of ‘Rivaille’s’ vision for the front cover. Eren jotted down some notes into his sketchbook, eyes still sparkling with anticipation and Levi could almost see the ideas swimming around in his head. One of those ideas clicked and Eren opened his mouth to say something, but a customer stepped into the store.

Levi counted three. Three boxes of pocky. Eren was on his third box of pocky that night – fourth, but Levi didn’t know about the one he had before starting work. Eren finished the piece he was eating and started to sketch with quick strokes, “I don’t know if you remember, but one time I made a latte design for you of wings.”

When he was done he picked up the sketchbook and held it out to Levi. It was a familiar winged design, one over lapping the other, but on paper it looked sharper, more angled. “I remember, yes.”

“I thought… maybe, that it could be used as the Scouting Legion’s logo?”

“It’ll do.”

Eren frowned. He ripped the paper out and handed it to Levi, “Here. Show it to Rivaille. It’s his book, so…”

Damn it. This pretending-to-not-be-Rivaille was going to be a pain in Levi’s ass, wasn’t it? “I’ll show it to him.”

“Thanks,” Eren said, sticking another piece of pocky between his teeth. He watched as Levi placed the drawing into his messenger bag and wondered if he could wrap his whole hand around Levi’s bicep. Probably not. Maybe he could ask for peace of mind.

He lifted his head to do just that – only vaguely remembering he had pocky in his mouth – but Levi’s face was suddenly a lot closer. Eren’s heart gave a not-so-little leap as Levi took a rather large bite. Large enough that he could feel the heat of Levi’s mouth.

“Y-you,” Eren stammered, what was left of his pocky nearly falling from his lips. His face felt like it was on fire. “That was my last piece!”

“What?” Levi drawled, unperturbed. “I wanted your pocky.”

Eren wasn’t sure if he was hearing things, or if he really was that sexually frustrated, but that one statement sounded unbelievably dirty to Eren’s ears. It didn’t help that Levi was leering at him with nothing but dark intentions. Any comeback Eren thought he had failed him at that moment, “Um.”

Levi shut Eren’s mouth closed with a finger to his chin. “Finish your pocky, Eren, or I’ll finish it for you.”

A tremor shook Eren’s legs. He was thankful that he was already leaning against the bar counter, otherwise he’d have dropped to his knees. He wanted nothing more than for Levi to finish what was left of his pocky, to take what was left and all Eren could imagine was how it would feel. Would the kiss be demanding? Hot? Fierce? Would he tease Eren, would Eren’s legs feel as weak as they did, would he hold Eren up, would he be devoured?

Maybe if he asked nicely, maybe if he begged, maybe Levi really would devour him and that was all Eren wanted. To be devoured by this man.

And Levi could see it in his eyes. He could see it in the way they glazed over and somehow the boy managed to look both confused and adorable and turned on all at the same time and it drove Levi up the wall. This boy. He was a testament to Levi’s willpower. He didn’t believe in God or a god, and maybe they were punishing him for that by sending Eren. They were taunting him with this young, fresh meat that Levi craved to sink his teeth into.

“I,” Eren started to say, stopping to finish the piece of pocky on his mouth because it was turning soggy and Levi was still staring at him and neither of them had moved, as if they’d both been waiting for the other to spring into action. I want to kiss you. I want you to kiss me. I want you. I like you. So many words, but none of them came out except one, “Phone.”

Eren retreated into the back like a frightened puppy, leaving Levi alone. He covered his mouth with a hand, brows furrowed and eyes closed, recalling how terribly close he came to kissing the barista. Stupid brat. Eren just had to stare at Levi like he wanted to be kissed and he could have gone ahead with it and put all the blame on Eren later.

But no. Now wasn’t the time to be kissing brats – not that he wanted to go around kissing brats. Only a green-blue eyed brat – no matter how much his immorality tried to sway him to.

Levi would have to be patient. He would have to wait for a day when Eren was less scared, less jittery around him. If he didn’t scare him off already.  

Whether he could wait that long was another matter completely.

Eren stared at his cellphone. His first instinct was to call or text Armin and Mikasa, but he hesitated. Mikasa was probably sleeping by now, and even if he did call her she’d know something was wrong, come right over, and kill Levi. Armin would probably be a little more patient; he’d know Eren wouldn’t want to be questioned, and he wouldn’t pry. He’d just be there. And Eren appreciated Armin for that. But that wasn’t what he needed, either.

He didn’t know what he needed, to be honest.

He needed a new car that didn’t break down every couple of weeks.

He needed a new pair of jeans that weren’t torn at the ends.

He needed these feelings to go away.

He needed more white shirts because all of his had stains that wouldn’t go away.

He needed Levi to kiss him.

His fingers tightened around his phone. Banging it against his forehead didn’t solve any of his problems, but it made him feel better in a painful sort of way. The pain was a distraction from his thoughts, which was exactly what he needed.

Eren scrolled through his contacts until he found a certain name.

Eren: u awake?

He slipped his phone into the pocket of his apron and made his way out front at the jingle of a bell. Levi was still at the counter, tapping away into his laptop. Three college girls approached the register as they giggled amongst themselves, bringing with them a cold burst of air from outside. Eren took their orders and spent the next five to ten minutes making their drinks. He thought he felt Levi’s gaze on him at times, but whenever he looked over, the man’s eyes were firmly on the screen of his laptop.

His cellphone vibrated in his pocket, but Eren didn’t check it until he was done serving the girls.

Horseface: yea I’m awake.

Ever since they broke up, Eren had changed Jean’s name in his phone to ‘horseface.’ Sure their breakup had been mutual, but that didn’t mean Eren hadn’t been a little angry at the time. He never bothered to change it back.

Eren: wanna hang out when im done w/wrk?

When it came time to leaving, Eren was sure Levi was aware of how awkward and nervous Eren was, because he suddenly stopped in the middle of the parking lot and turned to Eren. At first he didn’t say anything, just stared at Eren with gray eyes and a small furrow between thin brows.

“Rivaille will like your design, I am sure.”

Eren couldn’t help the small smile, because here was this confusing man trying to make Eren feel better in his own way. There was still some tension in him – not all of it was going to go away any time soon – but Eren felt a lot more relaxed. “Thanks.”

“Goodnight, Eren.”

“Goodnight.”

Maybe tomorrow he’d try saying Levi’s name. But tonight…

Horseface: sure. Where do you wanna meet?

Eren: utopia.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today’s special: Eren in a maid outfit.

“Is this really necessary?”

Carla smiled innocently, but Eren knew his mother well enough to know the sinister nature that lurked beneath. She was an evil mastermind who still enjoyed making her son cross-dress, even when he was already an adult. “Well, everyone voted on a maid-theme, so yes. This is absolutely necessary.”

Ugh. It didn’t help that a majority of Little Titan Café’s staff was female, leaving little to no competition between a maid or sports-themed day at the shop (not that Eren cared for sports. He’d just rather that than a maid theme). Needless to say, Eren, Marco and Connie hadn’t stood a chance in protecting their manly prides.

Although, as Eren peeked his head out from the back door, Marco and Connie looked like they were having a little too much fun parading around in maid outfits; Connie more-so as he strutted around and batted his eyelashes at patrons. Marco was his usual self: taking orders with a smile. Neither of them seemed perturbed by their state of dress, which irked Eren as he bit his thumb nail. Didn’t they understand how utterly humiliating this was? Damn his mother and her wicked ways.

“Eren~,” speaking of the woman, her voice sounded a little too sing-song for his taste. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He looked over his shoulder with wary eyes, only to have them widen. “Oh no. No. Absolutely not. I’m already wearing this ridiculous thing. I’m not going to wearthat. You can’t make me.” To prove his point, he jabbed a finger towards his maid uniform. It was a little too short at the ends, but blue boxers peeped out from beneath the frills. Frills. Eren never thought they’d be an issue in his adult life, but they were today; there was some on the apron, on the headwear he wore, at the hems of the silk black dress. The apron was tied sloppily in the back. Thigh-high stockings, polished black shoes and a bow around his neck finished the outfit.

Carla clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Connie and Marco didn’t make a fuss over this.”

“So?” Eren huffed, arms crossed defensively. “I’m more of a man than they are.”

She pressed her fingers against forehead in an exaggerated gesture, “Do you want to make your dear mother cry? Your father wouldn’t be ha—“

Eren stormed off behind the lockers – snatching the panties and garter belt from her hands as he passed her by – to change.  

Carla grinned in triumph.

Cute, Eren… Mikasa snapped a picture on her phone, not minding the scowl that marred Eren’s face.

“Not. One. Word,” he bit out through gritted teeth. Armin was torn between sympathy and laughter. “Give me your phone, Mikasa.”

She snapped another picture. “No.”

Eren twitched. “Mikasa!”

“Customer, Eren,” Marco pointed out, just in time, too, because Eren was about to leap over the bar counter and take Mikasa’s cell phone by force.

Eren took in a deep breath and turned to face the new customer at the register. The man looked dazed, no doubt wondering why there weren’t any female maids working (Sasha had left five minutes ago, still wearing her uniform), and Eren knew it was going to be a long night. Unfortunately for him, after an hour of cat-calls and oops, I accidentally dropped something, can you get that for me, Eren hated that he was right. For once. And now that Marco and Connie had left for the night, he was left all alone to fend for himself.

“Oi, Armin, get a picture of us, will ya?” Jean asked as he held Eren in a headlock, his other hand up in a peace sign.

“Why are you here?!” Eren demanded, struggling to slip out of Jean’s iron hold, but Armin and Mikasa had already taken a few pictures. Traitors, the both of them! He stomped on Jean’s foot and dug the heel of his shoe down.

“Ow, shitdamnitEren,” Jean hissed, releasing the barista. He lifted his leg and massaged just above his toes. “I think you broke a few bones.”

“Good,” Eren sniffed. “I’ll break a few more if those pictures get out.”

Jean limped over to the empty barstool next to Mikasa. He decided not to say out loud that he hadn’t planned on sharing the pictures with anyone, because that’d probably be an instant death sentence, and he’d rather not die young, thank you very much. All thoughts of death and aching toes left his mind when his phone vibrated with the pictures Armin forwarded to him.

“Send me those, too,” Mikasa said as she glanced over Jean’s shoulder to admire them.

“I already did,” Armin smiled.

“Thank you,” she said, eyes bright and cheeks glowing happily as she held her phone in absolute reverence.

“You guys are killing me,” Eren groaned. How the hell were these people his friends, anyway? Even growing up they always seemed to enjoy his suffering. What bothered him the most was that normally Mikasa would agree to anything Eren wanted – for the most part – but tonight she was particularly stubborn. “I hope you know I still have pictures of you dressed up in girly stuff, Armin.”

He shrugged. Eren didn’t know when it started, but as Armin got older, the boy became more and more aware of how much smarter he was than everyone else. He was similar to Eren’s mother in the way that while they were both pleasant on the outside, there was a manipulative, mischievous nature that no one ever saw coming until it was too late. Or until you were faced with one of Armin’s superior,I-am-sincerely-finding-amusement-in-your-pain smirks. Such as then. “I was a kid. I don’t care.”

It was impossible to hold anything over Armin.

Eren sighed and rubbed his temples. The only thing that could make this night worse was if Levi came walking in, and that would only end in disaster with his friends there. He could only hope for one or two outcomes: A) Levi just doesn’t show up or B) they leave before Levi gets to the shop. But there was no telling what time they’d leave when Jean inquired curiously about the pictures Eren mentioned, to which Armin went into excruciating detail how Carla used to dress them up in female clothes. Somehow Eren managed to exclude that little piece of information about his life from Jean when they dated, and now that the cat was out of the bag, Jean was banging his hand over the counter and laughing. Eren wondered if he could get him to shut up by shoving a broom handle down his throat.

Not that Jean was giving Armin is full attention. Half of it was spent repeatedly glancing at Eren as he angrily swept the floor. There were many reasons why Jean liked Mrs. Jaeger: she never took shit from Eren, she could get Eren to do anything, she always made the best spaghetti whenever Jean would come over for dinner, she never got mad at them when they’d stay up late playing video games, plenty of times she’d send Eren to school with extra lunch for Jean, she had a great sense of humor and was pretty to boot. She really outdid herself this time, though. God bless that woman for putting her son in a maid outfit.

Personally, Jean would have preferred if Eren wasn’t wearing those thigh-high stockings, but he couldn’t quite hate them too much, not when they were attached to a garter belt. If there was one thing Jean had been obsessed with when it came to Eren, it was his legs. Being there at the café, with teasing glimpses of bare thighs brought back an onslaught of memories of a time when those legs were wrapped around his waist, or draped over his shoulders as he—“Earth to Jean.”

He blinked, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from Legs – er, Eren – to look at Armin (Mikasa had disappeared to use the bathroom), “Huh?”

Blue eyes twinkled knowingly. “You have a bit of drool there.”

Jean blushed and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“You know, Eren seems to talk about you a lot more lately,” Armin commented with a perfected casualness that Jean had to repeat the words over in his head. “Considering he stopped talking about you completely after you guys broke up.”

He shrugged. “We’ve been hanging out lately.”

Armin gave a noncommittal hum as he took a sip of his latte. “As friends.”

For some reason, those two words had Jean tensing up with irritation. “Yes. As friends.”

“Because he likes someone else.”

Jean sighed. “I know that.”

“So you’re not hanging out with Eren because you have ulterior motives?”

“Of course not.”

Armin stared at him from the corner of his eye.

“Okay, maybe at first. But then –“ Jean trailed off, recalling how Eren brightened up around that short creep in a way he never did around Jean, “We’re doing good as friends.”

Sometimes he wondered if they both hadn’t screwed up in their own ways, would things have been different; if Eren would have looked at him the way he did towards the shorty. Jean shook those thoughts away. There was no point in mulling over the past when the present had Eren in a maid uniform, and even if there was no chance of them getting back together, he could at least enjoy the view.

“I wonder how much I could sell these pictures for,” Armin mused as he sifted through the photos on his cellphone.

Jean slung an arm over his shoulders. “Let me in on it and I’m sure we could make a lot of cash.”

“Make a lot of cash doing what?”

The two froze. The cold, menacing aura palpitating behind them was all too familiar. They didn’t have to turn around to recognize the voice, either. Mikasa was a force to be reckoned with, after all.

The two boys squeaked in unison, “N-nothing, Mikasa.”

When Eren thought his day would get worse, he didn’t think it would in this way. Today was turning into one of those let’s-see-how-we-could-screw-with-Eren-Jaeger-further days, because Ymir and Christa had showed up as well. Ymir proceeded to tease him and forced him into more pictures and – bless her angelic soul – Christa tried to stand up for him but there wasn’t much she could do when Ymir was having too much fun with Eren’s predicament. Eren spent the time trying to keep his dress down because of Ymir’s constant need to try and flash the whole store.

That wasn’t the worst of it, either. Annie and her posse of Beanstalk and Macho Man stopped by. Along with several other classmates. Most of them didn’t order anything, much to his bewilderment. Eren could only wonder if the universe was playing some sick joke on him by having everyone he knew come into the shop on the one night he didn’t want to see anyone.

(The ‘universe’ went by the name of Mikasa Ackerman who wanted everyone to see Eren dressed up so cutely – thus she sent a text message out.)

And surprisingly, none of that topped the cake that was Eren’s Worst Night Ever. Nope.

Just as Eren thought his night was finally calming down after his friends left, someone Eren hoped he’d never have to see again came waltzing into the Little Titan Café; someone who was tall and blond and went by the name of Erwin-something. Yeah, Eren had memorized his name and still couldn’t put aside his jealousy towards the man who stood on the other side of the register, a pleasantly surprised smile on his face. But this time he was accompanied by a brunette haired woman with glasses.

“Welcome to the Little Titan Café,” Eren greeted with a not-so-customer-friendly tone. “What can I get you?”

“Is there something going on today?” Erwin asked curiously.

“The owner insisted on having a maid-theme today,” was Eren’s blunt reply, twitching irritably when Erwin’s eyes dimpled in amusement.

“I am glad I decided to stop by, then.” There was something about his tone that Eren found suspicious. It sounded… playful?

“Is this Eren?” the woman interrupted as she leaned over the counter, startling Eren when their noses were mere centimeters apart. She grabbed his hand and shook it with gusto. “The name’s Hanji. Hanji, Zoe. I’m Levi’s edi—friend.”

It was almost hard to believe that such a loud, eccentric woman was friends with Levi. “Uh, nice to meet you?”

“So you’re the one who’s inspired our dear Levi,” she continued. Eren could only blink, the meaning of her words lost on him completely. Inspired Levi for what? “You know, you’re all he talks about. And he doesn’t talk much and when he does he always slips your name in. It’s cute, really. He’s such a stoic all the time but really he’s just a big softy and I can see why he’s so taken by you.”

“Um…”

“Now, now, Hanji,” Erwin intervened, gently tugging her away from Eren. “We’ll go ahead and order now, Eren –“ Okay, Eren wasn’t sure earlier, but he was pretty positive there was a flirtatious lilt to the man’s tone, but he wasn’t 100% positive so he chose to let it slide, “I’ll take a double armored Americano,” same as before, Eren thought.

“And a Colossal,” Hanji started to say.

“—decaf coffee for her,” Erwin finished. Lord knew she didn’t need more caffeine. “To go.”

Relieved that they wouldn’t be staying longer, Eren took their payments and sent them on their way a couple of minutes later, their drinks in hand. Erwin fiddled with his phone, a smile on his face as Hanji craned her neck to get a good view of the screen.

“I think I should make this my new wallpaper,” Erwin mused.

“Levi would kill you if he saw that,” Hanji pointed out, admiring the picture of Eren fumbling around as he made their drinks. She slid her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, whipping her own phone out and flashing a picture of Eren bending over, “Mine is better.”

Eren stared after them in befuddlement, their conversation lost upon him as the door shut.

It wasn’t until 22:32 that Levi finally approached the Little Titan Café, completely exhausted from his day. That damn Auruo, couldn’t deal with shit for just one day, could he? Levi sighed as the coffee shop came into view, the light from the window bright in the dark, winter night. He wanted nothing more than to be inside where it was warm, nursing a hot coffee made for him by a certain barista. He’d sit there the rest of the night while Eren passed the night chattering and trying to guess Levi’s profession. He’d pretend not to be sending secret glances Eren’s way. He’d – Levi stopped in his tracks when the front door of the shop burst open and a man – no doubt a patron – was thrown onto the sidewalk.

“If I ever see you around here again, I’ll kick your ass so hard –“ Levi couldn’t see him, but he recognized Eren’s angry voice, “you won’t be able to sit straight for the rest of your life, your children won’t be able to sit straight, your children’s children won’t be able to, either, and their children won’t be able to…” The man scrambled to his feet, nearly slipping in his haste to get away, “Yeah you better run, piece of shit scum.”

Levi watched after him in amusement, making his way around to the front door, “Seems like you’re having a good…”

Good… what was he going to say again? Something. Words perhaps? What were words? He should know this. He was a writer. Writers used words, he thought. Right? Writers write. Right. Thus, words. But every single one failed him at that moment as he caught sight of Eren in – and here, words failed him once again.

He tried in vain to put two and two together. Eren was one thing. Yes, there was a familiar word. Dress. That was another word. Two words. Eren plus dress. Levi was making progress.

His lips were moving. Eren’s lips were moving. Talking. Another word that Levi understood. It struck him that Eren was talking, his brows furrowed in concern as he waved a hand in front of Levi’s face.

“You alright there?” The way Levi just suddenly stopped and froze – expression as blank as ever – was worrisome for Eren.

“Yes,” Levi said, voice sounding mechanical, movements feeling just as mechanical as he made his way into the shop. His body functioned on autopilot, making its way towards the bar where he usually sat, his gaze unable to remove itself from Eren who walked ahead of him. Eren. Dress.

Stockings, a new word invaded his malfunctioning brain. It was working a little faster now, several new terms making themselves known: Short dress. Apron. Garter belt. Levi couldn’t look away from the garter belts, not until Eren returned to the back of the register. Maid uniform finally trickled into his mind and the possibilities as to why Eren threw a customer out of the store came rushing in.

“Did that man… harass you?” Levi asked, mentally patting himself on the back for sounding composed.

“Eh,” Eren made a face, feeling way more self-conscious in Levi’s presence as he tugged the hems of the skirt down, “He copped a feel.”

“I see,” Levi managed to get out, dropping his messenger bag on the bar counter without much finesse. Maybe he should go after the man and teach him a thing or two about what not to touch. But he had other ways to deal with things – people – that he didn’t like, “Did you get his name?”

“I’m sure it’s on the receipt copy from his order,” Eren said, missing the hostility in Levi’s tone completely. “Why?”

“I’m just curious,” Levi said. But Eren finally caught on to the lack of curiosity in his eyes. Curiosity was supposed to be innocent. It wasn’t supposed to brim with murderous intent.

“…I think he paid with cash.”

So the man lived to see another day, alas. Levi removed his coat and slipped on to the chair. “The outfit?”

“Maid-theme. Mother’s idea,” Eren sighed.

Levi wasn’t sure if he should curse or praise the woman’s existence. Not only did she manage to get her son into something that left a lot to the imagination, but she allowed Eren to parade around in it. All evening. No doubt giving other people quite an eyeful. Levi covered his mouth in an effort to muffle an annoyed groan. What was he, fifteen? Getting jealous over something as simple as others looking at what was his. But damn if this wasn’t quickly turning into Levi’s Best Night Ever.

And it would have been the Best Night Ever if other customers would stop wandering into the store, stealing away Levi’s only time with Eren. But at least he got to see the boy flutter around as he helped one patron after the next; Levi’s presence alone making customers rethink their decision to even look at Eren (who was confused as to why people kept avoiding eye contact. He’d glance at Levi, but the man was always writing in his notebook, no laptop with him that night).

As if Levi was actually getting any writing done. How could he when something much better was cleaning the store? Shoddily at that, but it was overlooked for tonight. How could he focus on anything when Eren would bend over the table, the dress hiking up a bit without exposing anything as Levi wondered whether he wore panties beneath that or not. He wanted to go over and find out. He wanted to do far more terrible things than the perverted man who copped a feel – Levi twitched – because when it came down to it, Levi was an old pervert who wanted to prey on an innocent boy. Not a boy, he reminded himself because Eren was always reminding him. Always. I’m an adult.

Yes. A bright-eyed adult who was utterly clueless about preying old men that wanted to bend him over the table right then and there and fuck screw him senseless.

And how dare Eren hide his legs every night in those ridiculous, ratty jeans of his? Well, no. Perhaps he should have kept them hidden because now they were forever branded in Levi’s brain. As if his nights weren’t sleepless already…

Levi rubbed his lids. Patience, patience. He’d only scare Eren off if he jumped his bones. And he didn’t think the few patrons left in the store would appreciate it, either.

The barista hesitated before making his way over to the bar counter, saving it for last because he was a little nervous to be so near Levi tonight. There was a strange, stifling aura around the man, and he felt extremely self-conscious in the stupid get-up his mother made him wear. Eren sucked it up and walked over, starting from the furthest end of the counter as he wiped it clean.

“Put a little more effort into it, brat,” Levi drawled.

Eren pursed his lips and wiped harder.

He spent a little too much time on one spot, taking way too long to inch his way down, and it was obvious to Levi that he was taking his time on purpose. “A little slow, aren’t you?”

“I-I’m just making sure,” Eren muttered, not understanding why his face felt so red.

Levi’s fingers around the pen tightened as Eren got closer. So maybe he wasn’t going to jump Eren’s bones – yet – but he could at least allow himself some things, no? He was being patient, after all. He deserved an award.

Once Eren was close enough, Levi let curiosity get the best of him as he leaned back in his seat and lifted the back of Eren’s dress with his pen. Yep.

Eren was wearing panties.

“Oh? Not bad.”

“L-Levi!” Eren squeaked, whipping around with his hands back, holding his dress down. He turned a bright red from his neck up.

Levi simply smirked, waving his pen at the sputtering and flustered barista.

It was worth it. Eren said his name.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today’s special: Gingerbread Latte

“Do you always have to wear that?”

Eren tugged the ball of fluff at the end of the red Santa hat with a sigh. “Yeah.” He set about making Levi’s drink. By now, he knew whenever the man made himself comfortable in his seat that he wanted to be surprised, especially if a couple of minutes had gone by and he hadn’t already placed an order. He finished the gingerbread latte off with spice-infused whipped cream – cinnamon, cloves and ginger – and a drizzle of sweet molasses. “You look tired today.”

Levi was tired. A lot more tired than he normally was. He couldn’t recall a time where he felt as exhausted as he did that day, but it crept away the moment he stepped into the coffee shop; the warmth melting away the gnarls of winter that had weighed him down. A pleasant sensation filled him with the first sip of his drink, the mingle of spices and something sweet burning down his tongue and throat. “It was a long day.”

“Bounty hunting, huh?” Eren ventured with a playful smile that often made Levi want to smile. He caught himself before the twitch in his lips could turn into anything other than that.

“I admire your determination, I’ll give you that.”

“Maybe enough to reward me?” Eren asked. The question was innocent enough, but it brought back memories of dreams and why Levi was so exhausted because he hadn’t gotten any sleep – how could he sleep when he was constantly haunted by indecent thoughts where he’s doing indecent things to this utterly clueless, barely-adult boy? It took Levi a moment to realize that Eren hadn’t meant anything by the question other than an answer to satiate his curiosity: what did Levi do for a living?

“I’ll reward you with a story,” he finally said, “about the gingerbread man.”

Eren made a face. “I already know that story. He runs away so he doesn’t get eaten.”

“Well, yes,” Levi agreed with another sip of his drink. “But do you know how it ends?”

“I assume he gets eaten.”

“Yes. In the end,” Levi said. “Everyone wants a piece of him, but he’s too fast for everyone. It’s not until he comes across a river that he encounters a sly, old fox.” It’s not mentioned in the story whether the fox was old or not, but for Levi’s purposes, the fox was. “The gingerbread man gets tricked to climb onto the fox’s tail in order to escape across the river. But the gingerbread man repeatedly gets wet so he climbs on to the fox’s back, and then the fox’s nose.” He held Eren’s gaze, and for a moment the barista forgot he was being told a children’s story. “The fox tosses the gingerbread man into the air and catches him with his mouth and snap. That’s the end of the gingerbread man.”

“That’s a terrible ending.”

“Not for the fox.”

“Why did you tell me this story again?”

Levi leaned forward against the counter, his shoulders raised in a shrug, “As a warning.”

Eren frowned, confused. “A warning for what?”

“To beware of sly, old foxes.”

Eren laughed – a little uncertain, but mostly filled with amusement and incredulity, “Don’t worry. Foxes don’t come around these parts.”

That’s what you think, little gingerbread man.

Now that things have finally settled down in the café, they were able to discuss the cover art for Rivaille’s next book. “I told you he would approve of your design.”

A pleased flush warmed Eren’s cheeks as he tried to bite back the grin that threatened to split his face. It was hard to contain his excitement when someone he held in such high regard approved of something he did, but there was something far more exciting about the knowing look in Levi’s gaze. As if he were saying you’re good enough and that was all the praise he needed.

Eren took the draft he had sketched from Levi, barely glancing at the paper as he folded it up and stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans. “I went ahead and started some actual drafts for the cover, but I’ll show you those when there’s something to actually see. Oh! But there is one thing I wanted to show you.”

He shuffled through his front pockets, dumping a packet of gum, a sticker and a few Tootsie Roll wrappers onto the bar counter. Levi quirked an eyebrow, picking up the sticker curiously. Utopia was printed in bold, blue, bubbled letters, the ‘o’ in the shape of Saturn. “Utopia?”

Eren retrieved a crinkled, folded paper with an ‘aha!’ “Oh, Utopia’s this 24-hour diner with a super cool arcade.” He unfolded the paper and smoothed it out over the flat surface of the counter just as Levi placed the sticker back down, quickly losing interest in it, “So you know how my mom was inspired by the first book for this café and the titans? Well, she helped me design the 50-meter class giant using our Colossal one and—“

It was easy to listen to Eren prattle on about something he was genuinely enthused about. The sketch of the 50-meter class giant was impressive as well. Levi could see the similarities between the image of the Colossal titan that was imprinted on the large sample drink and the much larger, more intense version on paper. It wasn’t very often that Levi wished he could do things he couldn’t, but when he was faced with Eren’s talents and Eren’s smile, he wondered what it would be like to capture that in a painting, in a sketch, in something other than words because sometimes words just weren’t enough and that was all Levi ever had.

“—are you listening?”

“Yes,” Levi said without missing a beat.

“You really do look tired,” Eren pointed out. The lines beneath Levi’s eyes were deeper than usual, but his expression remained as unperturbed as ever. “Maybe you should just go home.”

“And who will make sure you get to your car in one piece?”

Eren rolled his eyes. One wouldn’t think it, but Levi was actually kind of cute in his own way. There was no underlying jab to his question, no hint of him questioning Eren’s masculinity and his ability to take care of himself. It was a simple question; a simple matter of Levi caring enough to make sure Eren was okay at the end of the night and his simple, blunt way of going about things – despite the majority of times where all he did was confuse Eren – turned his insides to mush. “I’ll make sure.”

Levi gave a noncommittal hum. “I still need to get some work done. It’s fine.”

“Typing up your next award-winning song?”

Levi snorted into his drink. “Your assumptions are becoming more and more ridiculous.”

“Oh, I googled jobs a couple of nights ago. Did you know there are jobs for sleep testers? Which you clearly don’t do considering how tired you look…”

Levi let his comment slide. “Have you ever considered the possibility that what I do for a living is meant to be kept a secret?”

Eren blinked. “Well, yeah. So probably an assassin then? Will you have to kill me now that I’ve found out? Have you ever played Assassin’s Creed?”

Sometimes, Levi couldn’t keep up with this brat.

“Oh, that reminds me. I was at Utopia the other night with Jean and we were playing SoulCalibur at the arcade and we both chose Ezio and—“

“Jean?” Levi interrupted.

“Yeah. You remember my friend, right? The guy I dated. Anyway—“

Levi’s hand around his cup relaxed as he released it, not wanting to crush it with the irritation that burned beneath his skin. This Jean was coming up a little too frequently now that Levi thought about it. Appearing in the shop. In conversation. Apparently hanging out the other night, meaning it was most likely directly after Eren got out of work until who knows what ungodly hour in the morning. He drummed his fingers impatiently as Eren went on and on about some game Levi could care less about. None of which made sense because what did Ezio from this SoulCalibur have to do with Assassin’s Creed?

“—and we got a draw on the second round it was crazy but then the third round I was like—“

“Eren, shut up.”

His mouth snapped closed. The silence ticked by one tense second after the next, Levi taking a moment to lift his drink to his mouth while Eren fidgeted nervously, trying to figure out what he said wrong. It wasn’t hard to (figure out, that was), and Eren instantly regretted ever bringing up Jean’s name. For whatever reason, Levi didn’t like him – probably because he came off as obnoxious – and Eren wondered if it had more to do with the fact that they dated, and less to do with Jean’s winning personality. One could only hope.

“Le—“

A glare.

“—vi.”

It relaxed a little. Did the brat even know he was saying Levi’s name more easily now? Levi remained poised in his seat, his face giving away nothing to the ire festering inside. “What is your relationship with him, Eren?”

“I told you before, we’re just friends,” Eren said, patient and puzzled and wary of the calmness that the man feigned. The tenseness he carried was practically palpable.

Eren was glad for the reprieve when a customer stepped into the store – how many times had that bell saved him? – because he couldn’t figure out what was going on through Levi’s mind. That was partially why he had hung out with Jean when he did, and partially because his own mind had been in turmoil that night and all Eren wanted to do was have a moment where he felt like himself again: less confused and disoriented and obsessed over a man. Jean hadn’t asked any questions, hadn’t pestered him as to why he wanted to hang out, hadn’t brought up the older man that Eren was falling for. And for that, Eren was thankful. All they did was eat with the company of Hannes, the cook, and played video games until the sun rose and reminisced over their high school days and Eren felt like himself again.

His mind felt clearer, less jumbled. He needed to be level-headed when faced with Levi. He needed to be himself.

Eren handed the to-go drink to the customer. He watched them walk out of the store, the roaring of a vehicle sounding loudly before the door shut. Caribbean greens turned to Levi, bright and honest; they were the kind of eyes that Levi wanted to capture with words, “I don’t love him, if that’s what you’re thinking. I never loved him.”

Perhaps that was exactly what Levi had been thinking because all of the anger and – dare he admit it – jealousy was gone just like that. He recognized the look in Eren’s eyes; it was something that he recognized in himself, the reality that neither of them had ever been in love.

It struck him then and there how strange their relationship was. Here was Eren assuring him that he wasn’t in love with someone, that he’d never been, and neither of them questioned it. Neither of them questioned Levi’s irrational jealousy, Eren’s need to calm him down, why they felt compelled to talk and be near each other. It was strange and peculiar and new and different and natural. It just… was.

But Levi wanted more. He didn’t know what more entailed, only that mine had come unbidden into his head one day, and ever since, Levi knew he wouldn’t willingly let someone else have Eren. Be it that shit-faced, obnoxious brat who hung around Eren under the pretense of friendship, or some other random person.

He was the fox and Eren was his prey.

Run, run as fast as you can, little gingerbread man.

“Oh, hey guys.”

Armin smiled apologetically while Mikasa stared blankly in return, raising her scarf further over her face as her gaze narrowed. Eren pulled away from the counter – he’d been fixing up the sketch of the 50-meter giant with Levi overlooking every now and then from his laptop – a forced smile fixed on his face. He wasn’t ready for Mikasa to know who Levi was, but he knew as soon as she saw the man that she remembered him from Eren’s sketches.

“I wanted to stop by,” Mikasa said, voice gentle beneath her scarf, “since we are leaving for nationals tomorrow morning.”

Eren’s smile relaxed. “I’ll make your drinks, my treat.”

While he went and did that, Levi returned to his laptop, pausing when he felt the intensity of a gaze on him. He caught Mikasa’s stare from the corner of his eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Are you the one who commissioned Eren for the cover art of Rivaille’s book?” she asked, the gentle tone from earlier gone.

“Yes.”

“How does he know you’re not some sort of fraud?”

“Mikasa,” Armin tried to intervene, but Levi turned around in his chair so he was facing them, one arm propped on the counter.

“He doesn’t know for sure,” Levi agreed, “but he trusts me.”

“He is foolish to.”

“Probably.”

Armin spotted Eren chatting with a customer, too busy to hear their conversation. Confrontations always made him nervous. Especially when Mikassa was involved.

“If you’re messing with him…” she left the unsaid threat hang between them.

Levi’s head bobbed up and down, a patient nod, “I’m not, so there is nothing to worry about.”

“Here you guys go,” Eren said a little hurriedly as he set their drinks down, “one of the toilets is clogged up so gotta fix it.”

“We’re going to head back out,” Armin said sympathetically. “Have fun with that.”

Eren waved them off as he hurried to the bathroom, “Good luck, Mikasa!”

She wasn’t done, however, as she took a step closer to Levi, blue eyes deep and dark like a cloudless night. “Eren likes you and he trusts you. I don’t know why. Maybe you are a genuine person who’s trying to make his dreams come true. But if you break that, or do anything to hurt him, be prepared to face the consequences.”

“It is nice to know he has such protective friends,” Levi said, and he meant it. “But I can assure you that there are no bad intentions involved,“ Except, there was one tiny detail that Levi didn’t dare mention: that he wanted to bang her friend., “but even so, I don’t know you well enough to be intimidated by your threats.”

Mikasa tugged the scarf down so he could see the gentle frown on her face, “No. It is not me you should fear. It is the fact that, should you betray Eren’s trust, he will never forgive you. Come, Armin.”

It was funny, really. Mikasa thought she was warning him against getting Eren’s hopes up about the cover art. But that wasn’t anything to worry over because Levi was completely honest about that and fully intended using his design for the next book cover. It just so happened that her words happened to strike closer to home – Levi’s guarded secret about being Rivaille. As if he hadn’t entertained the notion of how Eren would react if he knew the truth. It was all he ever wondered when Rivaille was brought up in their conversation. Whether Eren would forgive him, hate him, never want to see him again.

A weary sigh dragged its way from his lips as soon as Eren’s friends were gone. He stared at the screen of his laptop, the words from his book draft glaring right back, ever the friendly reminder of his alias.

“Let me guess,” Armin said as they headed to his car. “You really wanted to stop by so you could see this guy.”

“Yes,” Mikasa replied, not bothering to deny it.

“And?”

“…He looks like a midget.”

Armin laughed. “Now you’re being mean.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Eren apologized as he washed and sanitized his hands. “I hope my friend didn’t give you any trouble.”

The lack of the plural form in the word friend didn’t go unnoticed by Levi. “Not at all. It was an enlightening conversation.”

Eren wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he caught sight of the time and cursed. Clearing the toilet took a lot longer than he had hoped and the store had closed two minutes ago. He wiped his hands and quickly went about closing the shop. “Sorry. Let me just get all this done.”

“Stop apologizing and just get to it.”

“…Sorry.”

“You have good friends,” Levi said after Eren finished closing the shop down and all that was left was to turn off the lights. Eren slipped on the gloves that Levi had given him, unaware of the smile that lit his face as he wiggled his fingers. One of these days, this brat was going to be the death of Levi.

“Yeah,” Eren switched off the shop lights. The street lamps from outside illuminated through the windows. They couldn’t really see each other in the dimness, only the blurbs that were their bodies and the flicker of gazes as they made their way to the door. “I’ve known Mikasa and Armin for as long as I can remember. Dunno what I’d do without them.”

“Eren.” In the darkness, their movements stopped, Eren’s hand lingering over the door handle. His body twisted to face Levi and he could see him a little better now that they were closer to the window. Eren noticed he wasn’t wearing any gloves, but he could have sworn he had another pair that he wore other than the ones he gave Eren. Maybe he left them at home?

Eren tilted his head questioningly. “Is there something wrong?”

Yes. Of course there was something wrong. There was something terribly wrong; wrong because his confession was thick on his tongue, and this was the closest to one Levi had ever come to. He wasn’t the one to go to church for confession. He wasn’t the one to share secrets, to feel so utterly compelled not to lie to someone. Not that Levi made it a habit of lying. He just never spoke the truth, preferring to keep things to himself. But there was Eren, the light from outside behind him, his stupidly bright eyes still visible in the darkness of the shop, inquiring and tranquil. Yeah, that girl’s words – Mikasa, was it? – got to him more than it should have.

“Levi?”

He understood now why Eren always had a dreamy expression on his face whenever Levi said his name. There was something sweet about hearing his name from Eren’s lips, something that pulled his attention, something that made him want to hear his name over and over again. Now that Eren seemed more comfortable saying it, Levi didn’t ever want him to stop. It was the only name he should ever say, the only name he wanted Eren to say. Not Jean. Not Rivaille. Not any other man’s. Just Levi.

“…Never mind.”

A flash of disappointment crossed Eren’s face, but it was replaced with understanding as he made his way to Levi and gently grabbed one of his hands, much to his surprise. Eren was getting more and more bold with his few moments of affection as of late, not that Levi minded. He allowed the barista to tug him out of the store, neither of them letting go as Eren locked up with his free hand.

He didn’t dare try to let go until they got to the parking lot, and even then, Eren didn’t release the hand right away. “Well, have a goodnight.”

Levi nodded, watching as Eren turned around to leave, but he was instantly tugged back by a firm pull of Levi’s hand.

“Ah—“ Eren started to say, the words stuttering to a halt when Levi raised his arm and brushed his lips over the glove-covered knuckles. Eren couldn’t feel the warmth of lips through the leather, but he felt the twinge of teeth as they pinched through, steel eyes holding in him place, captivating in the night. It filled Eren with a different kind of chill, a cold heat that left him feeling flustered.

“Goodnight,” Levi murmured, tone laced with the darkest of honey as his fingers slipped from Eren’s hand, the heels of his dress shoes clicking loudly in the silence of the lot.

Eren clutched his hand to his chest, wondering why it felt like it was burning; wondering why he felt like he was caught by something he couldn’t escape from.

It’s too late to run now, little gingerbread man.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!

Today's special: Hazelnut Slush


only miss the sun when it starts to snow;

only know you love {him} when you let {him} go.

It was easy to tell when a customer was going to be trouble. They walked into the store with an air of self-importance and observed everyone and everything as if they were beneath them (that or they came in with bloodshot eyes, smelling of booze or smoke. But not all of those customers caused trouble. Mostly amusement). The middle-aged male was no exception as he lingered in front of the cash register and placed his order – Earl Grey Tea – rocking ever so slightly on the balls of his feet while he scanned the coffee shop.  He spotted something to his disdain, interrupting Marco’s process of preparing the tea, “What kind of place ya runnin’ here?”

“Um, a café?” Marco said uncertainly, wondering how else he was supposed to answer that.

“You allow their kind here?”

The volume in the shop seemed to switch off; conversations coming to a halt as curious gazes turned to the customer and the freckled barista. Marco stopped making the man’s tea, already knowing full well he wouldn’t get the chance to finish because those were fighting words if he’d ever heard any. “And what kind is that exactly, sir?”

He jerked a stubbly towards the back of the café, but Marco didn’t have to look to know the man was indicating the two college girls sitting huddled in the corner. Ymir and Christa, if Marco remembered correctly, two of Eren’s friends. A cloud passed over Ymir’s face, darkening her otherwise devil-may-care attitude with fury.

A growl erupted between clenched teeth as she started to stand, “What’s that supposed to mean, old man?”

“Ymir,” Christa cautioned, bringing her back into the seat with a sharp tug. “Just ignore him.”

“It’s disgusting,” the man sneered.

Marco sighed, glad that Eren was out making a quick food run for their dinner. He was pretty sure fists would be flying by now. “Sir, they’re not bothering you.”

“Oh yes they are. Their behavior is bothering me. It’s unnatural.”

“I think you’re being rude.”

“Listen, if you want your business to continue thriving, I suggest you rid yourselves of their kind. Ain’t nobody wanna see that.”

“Oh I’ll give you something to see,” Ymir hissed, unable to budge from her seat as Christa hung on to her arm.

“Ymir,” she pleaded, but that didn’t make Ymir any less calm, not when the pain was evident in blue eyes. It pissed Ymir off even more, to be honest. How could she sit back while Christa was being bad-mouthed? How could she sit back while her girlfriend was being publicly rejected and persecuted? How could she sit back when Christa – sweet, sweet Christa – was rejected by her own family and now this prick from bum-fuck-nowhere was ridiculing who they were? “Please.”

“They’re obviously disturbing the rest of the customers.”

“Maybe we should just go,” Christa whispered.

“Fuck that. Fuck him.”

“You’re the one disturbing the customers, sir,” Marco stated. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave if you cannot be civil.”

“You’re siding with them?” the man scowled. “Don’t tell me you support gay marriage, too.”

There was a sharp edge to Marco’s tone that would have intimidated anyone, but this man was clearly ignorant to a lot of things, “Why yes, I do. I am gay myself.”

“Ugh. Where is your manager? I wish I speak with him about the people employed here.”

“He’s not in at the moment.”

“Then I will wait here.”

“I’m sorry but I’ll have to ask you to remove yourself or I will call the cops.”

“I haven’t done anything wro—“

“Hey, buddy.” Another customer in line behind him interrupted, irritation seeping with every word, “you heard the guy. Get the hell out.”

The man rounded on Jean, having to tilt his head up because the younger male was half a foot taller than him. “Mind your own business, punk.”

Jean scowled. “You know, I’ve been having a pretty shitty day and standing here listening to your bigoted bullshit isn’t helping my temper any. So you either get the hell out like the barista asked, or I’ll make you.”

“What are you going to do? Hit me? Go ahead. They’ll have to call the cops on you.”

“Well, you asked for it,” Jean said with a shrug, not wasting another moment to slug the man across the face. He felt nothing but smug satisfaction as several startled gasps and cheers erupted from the other customers, but the smugness was instantly wiped from his face when the man reeled back with a punch of his own. A bright light erupted beneath Jean’s lids from the impact, temporarily disorienting him. Everything happened quickly after that: Jean readied a fist to retaliate, but arms locked around his armpits and shoulders and kept him firmly in place while Ymir and another male customer grabbed the other guy and dragged him – spewing profanities and all – out of the store. “Let me go, damn it! He still hasn’t learned his lesson!”

“It’s fine,” the voice behind him pacified, hold tightening just in case. “I’ll let you go once you relax.”

Fuming, Jean reluctantly relaxed. “Fine. Let go now.”

“Hold on, let me get an ice pack for that bruise of yours,” Jean was released, all the while protesting that they didn’t have to do that, but all he saw was the retreating back of a Little Titan Café employee hurrying away. He sighed and nearly jumped when a hand fell on his shoulder.

“Thanks for that,” Ymir said.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t for you. The guy was getting on my nerves,” Jean mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved him off and returned to Christa.

“Are you alright?” the employee returned, ice pack in hand, and Jean realized as he lifted his head that he’d never seen this freckled barista before. He was pretty sure he’d remember such a pleasant smile.

“Uh—ghh,” his response got tangled somewhere in his vocal chords.

“Here,” Marco said as he pressed the ice pack to Jean’s cheek, the blond wincing at the stinging chill. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

Jean cleared his throat. “But you’re not sorry the other customer got hurt?”

His smile turned playful and maybe Jean had been hit a little harder than he thought because he was practically blinded by it. “Nah. He deserved it.”

“Thanks,” Jean muttered, reaching a hand to take hold of the ice pack, fingers brushing over the back of Marco’s hand. It burned like a surge of warm electricity. He’d complain later about the pain in his jaw, but at the moment it didn’t matter, not when he was busy connecting the freckles with his eyes. “I-I got it.”

The bell chimed, followed by a familiar, annoyed voice, “What the hell happened here?”

Figured Eren would ruin the moment.

“Punches seem to be flying around here a lot this holiday,” Eren mused as he handed Jean a fresh ice pack.

Jean snorted. “No kidding. But seriously, what’s up with that?”

Eren glanced at the chalkboard where Carla had tacked a printed copy of his final grades, his math score circled with I’m so proud of you! scribbled down (he ended the semester with a seventy-five percent). He scrunched his nose. “My mom was so happy I passed my math final and raised my grade up after failing my last exam.”

“So um, who was that coworker of yours?” Jean asked casually, except he sucked at feigning casual – especially when he was so quick to change topics – and Eren hid a smirk as he turned around to wipe the back counter.

“Which coworker?”

“You know. The one that just left.”

“You’ll have to remind me which one that is.”

The strain in his voice was all too clear, “You know. The one with the freckles.”

“Oh! You mean Marco?”

Jean nearly slapped his hand over the counter, glad to finally have a name. It slipped his addled brain earlier to get a look at the nametag. “Yes.”

Eren turned to him with an innocent tilt of his head, “What about Marco?”

“Nothing about Mar-“ Jean took a large gulp of his Hazelnut Slush – on the house courtesy of Marco. Brain freeze. He shuddered. “Marco. Nothing. I was just… curious about his name was all.”

“Right,” Eren hummed disbelievingly.

“If you have something to say, just say it.”

“Well, remember how I was telling you a coworker was looking for a roommate? That was Marco. I told you he was cute and I knew you would think so.”

“I didn’t say anything about him being cute,” Jean spluttered, a red dust settling across his cheeks, “And besides, I’m not gonna room with someone who doesn’t even know my name.”

“That’s why you guys get to know each other.”

“If you’re trying to hook us up—“

“I’m trying to help you find a roommate so you’ll stop bugging me. I could care less if you two hooked up while you were at it.”

That was Eren Jaeger for you: unable to sugar coat things. Jean ignored the small sting in his chest because yeah he wasn’t completely over this insensitive asshole, but he wasn’t exactly hung up over him, either. He was an insensitive asshole, after all. It was a strange place to be in, really. To still want someone but not feel the need to pursue them; to linger on letting go completely. “Oi, Eren.”

“Hm?” He was more diligent about cleaning the store these days. Eren barely looked up as he swept behind the counter.

“If I asked you to, would you kiss me?”

His movements stilled. “…Now why would I go and do that?”

“Last one for the road, maybe?”

Eren frowned at him, intently studying Jean’s face as if trying to discern something, anything, from his expression. There was a hopeful plea in his gaze that made Eren want to give in, to give Jean what he wanted, but Eren remembered Levi’s warning about not touching anyone, or anyone touching him. He was pretty sure it extended to kisses as well. And for whatever reason, that was a lot more important than giving in to Jean, even if hurt a little to turn him down, “Sorry.”

Jean shrugged his shoulders in resignation. “It was worth a shot. I’ll stop asking you to get a place with me.”

Okay, now Eren was starting to feel a little bad. They may give each other a hard time, but that didn’t mean they enjoyed hurting each other. “Jean—“

“Don’t worry about me, Eren.” With one elbow propped over the bar counter, Jean rested a cheek in his hand, dragging out an exaggerated sigh, “I guess I’d be pushing it if I asked for one last lay.”

Eren laughed, all the tension that had built up from their conversation melting away. “I don’t know, thatdoesn’t sound so bad.”

Jean had to bite back a retort about getting his hopes up by sipping from the straw of his Slush. He didn’t want to push things, didn’t want to make things more awkward by bringing up the past, but they never talked about it much and if he was going to go through with this letting go business—“Do you remember when we broke up?”

The smile on Eren’s face faded to a reminiscent, bitter one. Somehow it still made him look pretty in a boyish way. Probably because he wore a scowl 23/7. Except for when that little man was around. “Yeah. We had a big fight.”

“You were mad because I was always hitting on people.”

It was true. It was something Eren thought he had accepted when they started going out, that Jean had the habit of flirting – albeit gracelessly and stupidly – with others. It was how they started going out in the first place, because of Jean’s stupid flirting, which Eren had thought endearing at the time. But after they got into college, he couldn’t take it anymore. That’s not to say the whole blame fell on Jean alone. “And you were mad because I wasn’t very… affectionate.”

Translation: Eren couldn’t give Jean his full attention, nor the unconditional love he desired. “We were really different back then.”

“Yeah,” he nodded in agreement. Nowadays, Eren didn’t see Jean hitting on people. To be honest, Jean matured a lot, matured so much it was almost painful. Whereas Eren wasn’t sure if he was capable of being affectionate or loving with anyone; wasn’t sure if he’d ever get that chance when there was only one person he ever felt truly crazy about; one person he wasn’t sure he had a future with, but lately he was starting to think otherwise.

“You’ve changed, too, you know,” Jean said because he recognized that look on Eren’s face, that momentary self-doubt where he questioned himself. He remembered it from their first intimate night together when they couldn’t go all the way and Eren blamed himself. “You’re not as angry as you used to be.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well thanks. Same to you.”

That was the other thing. They’d both been angry, rebellious teenagers, determined to take on the world, intent on fighting anyone who stood in their way. Maybe if they waited, maybe if they hadn’t dated right off the bat, maybe – “Do you ever wonder what would happen if we started dating now instead of then?”

“Maybe we would have worked out,” Eren said as he leaned a bit against the broom, “but there’s no point thinking about it. It happened a while ago.”

“Yeah, but we never talked about it.”

“What’s there to talk about? We were both stupid. We made our mistakes. I’ve accepted it and moved on. You should, too.”

“It’s not that simple. I didn’t really want to break up in the first place. I only agreed because it was what you wanted.”

“You could have said something.”

“Like what? That I’ll stop flirting around? I couldn’t make false promises.”

Eren’s eyes flittered across the shop, thankful it was partially empty by now and most people were listening on their iPods and laptops. Having private conversations at the café was never something he enjoyed. He set the broom against the counter. “You were a terrible flirt, just F.Y.I. And I’m glad you didn’t. And you should be, too.”

Jean quirked an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Because we both grew up. And to be honest, I don’t think we would have done that with each other. Not in this lifetime, anyway.”

“I guess you can be right sometimes.”

“Hey, I’m right all the time.”

Jean scooped up the rest of his Slush that he couldn’t suck up with his straw. “…Can we pretend this conversation never happened? I hate deep shit like this.”

Eren cringed. “So do I. You can consider it already forgotten.”

“…Was I really a terrible flirt?”

“What about ‘already forgotten’ don’t you get?”

The door jingled and the sheer joy on Eren’s face was indication enough who the customer was. Jean glanced back anyway, catching the blistering, arctic chill of gray eyes as Levi walked into the shop. A shiver that had nothing to do with the Slush shook his frame. “Well, guess that’s my cue to leave.”

Eren gave a small, apologetic smile as Jean set the used ice pack down, pulled his jacket on, grabbed his cellphone from the counter and left the store with a peace sign. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat and let out a deep exhale, hating the way he could see his own breath, hating the way the cold bit through the layers and layers of clothing he wore. But there was no denying the lightness in his shoulders.

He couldn’t wait for winter to end.

Levi wasn’t sure what to expect from Eren when it came to the design for the book cover. What he received was better than anything he could imagine: Eren was careful not to draw a face, as the male protagonist stood at the bottom right corner, only the upper half of his profile visible while most of his face was cut off at the edge. His hair was wind-blown, unruly and wild; the cloak caught with the flow of wind in the same manner. Levi recognized the Wings of Freedom on the back of the cape, admired the way the cloak itself broke off at the end into a burst of feathers that were caught in a single moment. Levi recognized the Jaegers’ Colossal Titan that took up the top half of the picture, a hideous contrast to the otherwise breathtaking image.

He could feel Eren’s eyes on him, probing and impatient as he waited for a reaction. Levi set it down and met his gaze, appreciating the anticipatory expression, like a puppy awaiting approval. It was a good look for him. “It’s stunning.”

Whether he was talking about the design or the way Eren’s breath caught and his eyes brightened, Levi wasn’t sure anymore. Eren reigned in his excitement with a, “So you think Rivaille will like it?”

The corner of Levi’s lip twitched – was that disapproval, Eren wondered – as he lowered his gaze to his tea, “Yes. Rivaille will like it.”

It was starting to get a little easier to determine what makes Levi tick. Just mention Jean and or Rivaille and Eren could almost make out the petulance in his frowns. “Well if he doesn’t, I don’t mind designing something else.”

“No, this will do,” Levi said with a firm tone, leaving no room for argument.

“Worked hard at the farm today?” Eren asked with a small bat of eyelashes.

“So I work on a farm now?”

“That or lumberjack. You have the—“ Eren bit his tongue, stopping himself from saying biceps. “Ow.”

“Have the what?”

“Er, nothing.”

Whenever Levi started with a drink, he always held his cup in the normal way most people would – via the handle, but that was because the cup was hot. Once it cooled down he’d return to his awkward away, such as then. “I see you’ve finished with finals.” He nodded at the board.

Eren really should have taken that paper down after his mother left. He flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, yeah. I could have done better.”

“You did better than I ever did in high school.”

Eren’s eyebrows shot high into his forehead. “Really?”

“Why act so surprised? I didn’t go to college, remember?”

“Yeah, but… you just always come off as smart?”

“Doesn’t mean I have book smarts.” Heavens knew Hanji always had to correct him on his grammar and spelling. Just because he spoke proper – most of the time when he let out more than two words – didn’t mean he could write proper. “The same could be said for Rivaille. He didn’t go to college, either. That’s not to say you shouldn’t finish college,” Levi added at the growing interest in the barista’s eyes.

Eren gave a wistful sigh. “I know. I have a deal with my parents that I can pursue art so long as I go to college. My dad wanted me to be a doctor and my mom wanted me to help out more at the shop.”

Levi’s head bobbed with understanding. “My parents wanted me to take over the family business.”

“So there is a family business,” Eren leaned over the counter, eager to milk out more details of Levi’s existence. “What is your family business?”

“I’d have to kill you if you found out.”

He said it so seriously that Eren had to pause with an intake of breath, but he exhaled when he caught the teasing playfulness in Levi’s stare. “…Oh. But do you work for your family?”

“Part time.”

“And the other part time is your second job?”

“Yes.”

Eren mulled that over. “Will you tell me someday?”

“Someday.”

“Alright.” That appeased him because he nodded, “I’ll be patient then. Only if you tell me other things about yourself.”

“I am a boring, old man.”

“You’re not old.”

Levi sighed into his tea, pausing to take a sip and noting the way Eren didn’t dismiss the boring part. “Nothing too personal.”

“Alright.” Eren hadn’t expected him to agree, so every question he had ever wondered in the past was forgotten. He crossed his arms and wracked his brain, “Um. What’s your favorite color?”

“Black.”

“Wow you really are a boring, old man.”

“If you’re just going to mock me—“

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” The nice thing about working at a coffee shop and being a manager was that he could make himself drinks whenever he wanted. He went about making his own Hazelnut Slush, craving something sweet. “Do you like sweets?”

“Yes,” Eren tried to ignore the flare in Levi’s gaze, a reminder of the night he took a bite of Eren’s pocky. ”What’s – um – your favorite book?”

“If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Are you going to answer your questions as well?”

Eren blinked. “Why would I do that?”

“Just do it.”

“Okay. My favorite color is blue and my favorite books are everything by Rivaille—“ Levi made a sarcastic comment about how surprising that was, to which Eren pointedly chose not to comment on that. They passed the rest of the night with Eren asking little questions: what’s your favorite drink so far? What type of music do you listen to? Favorite cupcake? Do you like cupcakes? Did you play games as a kid or were you as boring then as you are now? To which Levi replied that yes he played games as a kid – Oh, that must’ve been such a long ago. Did you only have sticks and stones back then? –that yes he liked cupcakes, red velvet to be exact – That’s my favorite, too— no he didn’t like classic music as Eren pegged him to, but preferred classic rock – Ah, good choice, although I prefer more of the modern stuff – and his favorite drink that Eren had made him would, he grudgingly admitted, have to be the gingerbread latte (but for reasons Eren didn’t know).

“I will say,” Eren started as he finished counting down the register, “that you’re not as boring as I thought you’d be.”

“Thanks,” Levi drawled, wondering whatever happened to the bashful Eren. He almost missed it. “And I’m realizing you’re more of a sarcastic shit than I realized.”

Eren flashed him a grin. “I’ve been told that a lot.”

No surprise there.

But it was nice seeing Eren glow in another way that wasn’t red; seeing him glow with comfort and relaxation that wasn’t originally there when they’d first met. They thought they had the other pegged, that they were both open books, but in reality they were just scratching the surface. There was still so much that neither of them knew; that Levi wanted to know. He wanted to know more about Eren’s relationship with Jean. He wanted to know more about what made Eren tick, what else made him happy, what made him sad and what scared him. He wanted to know every minute detail, from his favorite color to the dreams he had at night.

Patience, Levi reminded himself.

It was a wonder how such little details about Levi could make Eren so happy, he thought as he retreated to the back to get his things. Was it him or was Levi opening up more and more? Maybe he didn’t realize it, or maybe he was doing it on purpose? Sometimes it was hard to tell with him, but Eren was sure he didn’t give unnecessary information without a reason. Did he want Eren to know more about him? His hand lingered over his coat as he considered the possibility, his heart warming in his chest.

He grabbed his jacket and tossed his nametag in the locker, shutting the door after.

Eren was a little surprised when Levi took a hold of his hand and walked out of the store with him. Not that he was complaining. He hoped this hand-holding thing was going to be a habit between them. Although he didn’t really get it. He was sure Levi didn’t, either. It just seemed… right. Natural.

“What’s your favorite season, Levi?”

 “I don’t really have a favorite. Just anytime where it’s not too hot or too cold.”

“So, spring?”

“It can be cold during spring at times, but I suppose.”

“My favorite is summer. I like the heat,” Eren said as he looked up at the sky. He didn’t know what it was about cloudless, winter nights, but the stars were always the brightest then, “but winter isn’t so bad.”

“No,” Levi agreed. Eren’s cheeks were warmed pink, but he had the suspicion it had less to do with the cold and more to do with the physical contact. It was good to know that the bashful, bright-eyed boy would always be there.

And as Levi said goodnight and departed with a final squeeze of the hand, Eren was hit with a revelation; it struck him so hard and fast, this revelation that the sky was dazzling, that the world wasn’t so bad, that winter wasn’t so bad. He’d always associate Levi with winter because that was when they met (albeit towards the end of Fall, to be more precise). He’d always associate Levi with the warmth that came with the cold, with the heat that Eren always felt as he gravitated closer and closer to the man.

Always, always, always.

Because he was irrefutably in love with Levi.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Happy Holidays

“I’m heading home now, Eren!” Carla finished up the last button of her coat and slid her purse on to her arm.

“Alright,” Eren yelled back, frowning as he dumped out the contents of his backpack. Where did his phone go? He knew he left home with it earlier that morning, and was seventy-eight percent sure he had dropped his phone in his bag before heading to work. It was strange he’d use his backpack when he was on winter break, but it made it easier to carry his sketchbook around, along with the other random junk he liked to hoard.

He sighed in relief when he found it lying at the bottom with five unread messages from Mikasa and Armin reminding him that they were meeting downtown tomorrow with a bunch of other friends. Eren slid his phone into his pocket and went about shoving the other stuff back inside his bag – school papers and what not – stopping when something caught his eye.

It was the sketch of the Colossal Titan Eren had given Levi to show Rivaille. It was funny how Levi and Rivaille sounded similar, but Eren didn’t think much of it in favor of unfolding the paper. There were some words scribbled on the back he hadn’t noticed before, in a handwriting that wasn’t his own.

There were only two other people who held this paper – one for sure – and all he could do was reread the words over and over again, heart racing in his chest.

Carla peeked her head into the backroom, “Eren, there’s a customer waiting!”

“Coming,” he rasped out, hating how pathetic his own voice sounded and how warm his face felt. A poem. That was what was written on the back of his sketch of a man-eating giant. A love poem if he’d ever read one.

Only one of the two people to see the sketch was a writer. But why would Rivailleof all people leave a poem on his drawing? Was it a draft of some sort? Was it accidental? It had to be.

“Eren!”

“Alright!” He threw his backpack in the locker, slammed the door and hurried out, paper clutched in hand.

Who the heck taught his mother how to change the shop’s music? He probably heard Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer at least five times now, and he only just started working thirty minutes ago. Eren sighed as he sprinkled cinnamon over the foam and set the latte onto the counter, calling out the order.

Maybe it was because Christmas was tomorrow, but a majority of customers that came into the store seemed to come in pairs of the relationship kind. He didn’t mind couples, honestly, it was just that he was seeing them a lot more lately. That or he was finally noticing them for whatever inexplicable reason; as if the whole world wanted to shove their cute relationships in his face. As if they were saying, hello, yes, we are in mutual-love with each other so we’re going to flaunt it because you’re in love with someone and that love may or may not be requited. Sucks for you. Happy holidays – Eren muffled a curse as he slammed the register closed on his fingers – motherfuc—and handed the change to the customer who flashed him a sympathetic smile.

Love. There was that word again. A really big word. A word that, up until last night, had never truly crossed his mind as something he was capable of feeling or being. Sure he loved his family and his friends, but that was different. It was different to the love he felt for Levi and for the longest time the things he felt for the man scared him. Scared him enough because it made him lose sight of a lot of things; infested his mind on a daily basis, made him unable to think of anything other than that man who often came to the coffee shop, a man that Eren didn’t know much about.

Love. It was still a strange and foreign word to him. Eren stuck his aching finger into his mouth, silently mulling over the word a little more. Maybe it was because he kept repeating it over and over in his head, but it felt less and less scary. Less strange. Less unfathomable. More… more like the afternoons he would head to work and the sun would be out and work didn’t seem like a terrible prospect. More like the nights he’d fall asleep with an idiotic smile on his face, feeling unbelievably happy. More like the evenings he spent talking to Levi, content and at peace with the hours that would pass listening to only the click-clacking of the keyboard. Like the after-hours when Levi would hold his hand, would wish him a goodnight; like the little touches, the little glances, the softening crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

Like the first night Levi walked into the store, the instant pique of curiosity, the instant jolt of attraction. Eren had never experienced anything like that before. It confused him. It tormented him. It made him anxious and afraid and if there was anything Eren wasn’t, it was a coward. So yeah, it pissed him off a little, too. It still did. But more in an I-want-to-do-all-of-those-stupid-cute-cheesy-couple-things-with-Levi. The only question was: how did he go about doing all of those stupid, cute, cheesy couple things with Levi?

He bit down on his finger, brows furrowed in contemplation. How did one go about starting up a relationship, anyway? All Jean did was a bit of flirting and the next thing either of them knew they were making out. A lot. Every day. For the next year or two. Something told him it wouldn’t work that way with Levi.

“Dear?”

Eren blinked at the elderly woman standing in front of the register. He hadn’t heard the customer approach at all. “Oh, sorry, ma’am. Welcome to the Little Titan Café. What can I get you?”

She chuckled. “Just a dancing green tea, please.” Eren punched the price into the register. She handed him her credit card, “Is there something troubling you? You looked like you were deep in thought.”

“Ah—“ Eren frowned, swiping the card, “I was just wondering something.”

“Maybe it’s something that I can help you with?”

“Well,” he handed her the card back, “how do you go about telling someone you love them?”

The elderly woman slid it back into her wallet. “It’s simple, really. You tell that person ‘I love you.’”

“Is it really that easy?”

She smiled as Eren made her drink. “I know it’s scary, but I always believed it’s better to put yourself out there then not at all. Rejection isn’t the worst thing in this world. There’s poverty and murder and human trafficking and drug addictions…”

He couldn’t help the little quirk of lips as he handed her the tea. “When you put it like that…”

“Think of it this way, love: if you’re rejected, then you can finally move on and find someone who will love and appreciate that cute face of yours.” She winked. “Merry Christmas.”

“Happy holidays,” he called after her, somewhat dazed. Elderly customers were usually his favorite because of how blunt they were; the women more-so with their flirtatious comments.

Was it really that easy though? To confess and be rejected and move on? Probably not. He understood Jean a little better, though. Was that what he had been doing the other night by bringing up the past? Moving on? It made him feel bad that he hadn’t noticed, hadn’t noticed how Jean was struggling with it himself, and Eren wondered if he was going to be in a similar position. The difference between him and Jean was that Jean could accept the truth whereas Eren couldn’t. Especially if the truth worked against him. He’d try and alter it to fit his needs.

But maybe there was nothing to worry about? After all, he practically kissed Eren’s hand one night, and even held it as they left the shop. Twice.

It was okay to hope, right?

Sometimes Levi liked to stand outside of the Little Titan Café before going inside. He hated the cold; hated everything about it from the way it made his ears feel like they were going to break off, to the way he had to stay bundled up. He hated cigarettes, too, but every now and then he would linger by the shop window to inhale the nicotine, watching the way breath and smoke were visible in the winter night. He hated the smell, but mostly he hated the way he’d observe Eren through the window, the barista oblivious as he either helped customers or slouched bored against the counter to play with his cell phone.

On nights like these, Levi told himself this was the way things should be. Eren was young and maybe notthat innocent, but he belonged in that bright, warm world of his; a world Levi had no business being a part of. And sometimes – usually mid-cigarette – he told himself to walk away before he could invade that world any further. But then he’d catch sight of those Caribbean greens that made him want to write his praise and he’d lose the will to leave. It was fruitless to fight something he really didn’t want to fight against.

Sometimes Levi liked to stand outside of the café because it reminded him of the first night he stumbled upon it, bright and warm while everything else was closed. He’d been seeking a place to hide, a place where he could write when he hadn’t truly felt like writing. He had escaped his apartment so he wouldn’t have to deal with Hanji’s pestering, but he’d been trying to find an escape from the pressures of writing and the lack of inspiration. And then he stumbled here, here into this little café with its peaceful atmosphere, shitty pop songs and a pretty-faced barista.

It was like finding his muse for the first time and realizing there weren’t enough words in the world.

He didn’t really know why he was drawn to Eren as much as he was. Maybe it was the fire in his eyes. Maybe it was the way he smiled, charming and sweet and only for Levi. Maybe it was the heat that encompassed him, that Levi wanted to bury himself in because it was cold outside; the world was cold outside. Had it always been so cold?

He hated the cold, hated everything about it, but he never noticed how cold it was until the day he stopped in front of the shop by chance and realized the light was on.

He hated cigarettes. Levi finished it off with one, last deep inhale before crushing the bud beneath his heel.

Sometimes, when he was done with his cigarette, he’d consider one last time that maybe he should walk away before he got any further deep. But then Eren would smile in thought or scrunch his nose or furrow his brows or give an impatient sigh and Levi was defeated.

His hand found the handle and he was being greeted with his name by the time he realized it was no longer cold.

“You’re here early,” Eren said as Levi took his usual seat.

He shrugged, not wanting to mention that he saw the café would be closing earlier because it was Christmas Eve. “Work ended early.”

“Oh, duh. Are you doing anything for Christmas tomorrow?”

Levi pulled off his coat with a heavy sigh. “I will most likely be dragged out for drinks. It is an annual occurrence.”

Eren smiled teasingly, “And here I thought you’d coop yourself up at home.”

“I would if I could. I tried that one year and—“ Levi frowned at the memory of Hanji breaking his door down. Yeah, that hadn’t been pleasant, “never again.”

“Kinda sucks I won’t get to see you tomorrow,” Eren commented, his brain slowly catching up to his mouth. He gave a nervous laugh when Levi quirked an eyebrow, “I mean, since the shop’s gonna be closed and we’ll be celebrating Christmas and um, I mean, I just got so used to seeing you every night, so it’ll be weird.”Shut up, Eren, you’re digging yourself an even bigger hole and you’ll never get out.

“I feel the same way,” Levi’s tone was matter-of-fact, and though he was probably agreeing with Eren’s reasoning, it still made him feel better.

“Levi,” he started to say, because Levi was here and now was a good a time as any to tell him his feelings. But the shop wasn’t closing for another hour and he didn’t want Levi to feel obligated to sit there after rejecting Eren so maybe it wasn’t a good time after all, “Uh, do you know what you want to drink?”

His laptop was already open. “Surprise me.”

Oh, Eren could surprise Levi alright; with a big cup of I’m Kind of in Love With You Latte. But he stuck with a Cinnamon Dolce Latte instead. Much safer that way.

“Eren.”

“Hmm?” He continued to pour the milk into the jug as he lifted his head towards Levi.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

Idle conversation, but it still made him inexplicably giddy. “I’ll be hanging out downtown with my friends.”

It got a tad distracting when Levi unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled them up his forearms. How was this even fair? Eren looked away, feeling like it was their first night meeting each other all over again. He thought he was more relaxed around Levi. He thought he cooled down and wasn’t as affected by little things like this, but he thought wrong because his heart was palpitating violent and painful. Ugh, how was Eren supposed to confess when he reacted to the most mundane things like Levi rolling up his sleeves?

“Eren.”

“Huh?”

Levi gave a pointed stare. Eren glanced down, the milk he steamed overflowing from the top of the cup as he poured it in with the espresso. He cursed for the second time that day. He’d been making lattes and other such drinks for years that, by now, he knew exactly how much milk he needed to use. But somehow he spaced out when pouring the milk. He hadn’t done that since he first learned how to make drinks.

Damn Levi and his distracting arms.

“Sorry. I’ll just remake i—“ In his haste to start over, Eren knocked the jug against the short cup, sending it tumbling over the counter and shattering against the floor, the drink splashing across the ground. “Shit.”

Why was it so hot in here? Did his mom pump up the heater or something? Eren crouched down, mumbling further profanities as he reached out for the broken pieces of porcelain. His hands were shaking. When did they start shaking? Maybe he wasn’t feeling well. Maybe he should call his mother and ask if he could close the shop down early because his stomach was feeling queasy. Maybe he shou—Eren froze when hands wrapped around his own.

“Look at you, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” was all Eren could say, confused. He hadn’t even felt the cut when he touched a sharp piece.

“What’s wrong?”

“I—“ What was wrong?

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.” Look anywhere, just not at him.

He felt fingers squeeze, gentle and tight around his and it struck Eren that their hands were touching. There were no gloves this time, nothing to separate the contact of callous skin against his; callous skin that was worn and weathered from the years. And at that moment, that was the most important thing. That wonderful, glorious moment and it took everything in Eren’s willpower not to squeeze in return.

“Eren.” Third time’s a charm, right? Eren lifted his gaze, and for once Levi couldn’t figure out what was going on in his head. He regarded the younger man with patience, “Why are you shaking?”

“Because,” Eren swallowed. Nerves. That was what this was. Give him another thief, this time with a gun, and Eren would gladly face him. He’d gladly chase him down and beat him with his own gun. He’d gladly fight man-eating giants. He’d gladly do anything that didn’t involve being in love and worrying about rejection because it was still strange and new to him and maybe he wasn’t actually in love and he’d realize that by tomorrow so maybe he should keep his mouth shut. But as he studied Levi’s face, the apathetic slant of eyes, the softening crinkles at the corners and the patience and tenderness hidden beneath layers and layers of harshness, a calmness settled over him. Eren breathed out, “No.”

Okay, now Levi was lost. First, Eren was shaking, and now he was looking at Levi like he had some sort of epiphany. He couldn’t keep up with him. But he didn’t mind it so much. He didn’t mind being swept away by this erratic storm that was Eren. “No what?”

Rejection isn’t the worst thing in this world. “I was… I’m not a coward.”

“I knew that from the moment you made fun of my height.”

Eren leaned a little closer. Levi was kneeling on the floor, mindful not to touch the latte that had spilled. “So it’s okay if I get rejected.”

“Rejected?” Levi wasn’t giving anything away with his expressions, either. As usual. But he wasn’t pulling away and that gave Eren some comfort. If anything, he was leaning closer, too. A lot quicker than Eren was and his breath was hot against Eren’s cheek and up close he caught the familiar whiff of cologne and the not so familiar smell of cigarettes.

“You smoke?”

“Sometimes.”

“That’s gross.”

Levi’s lashes fluttered down to Eren’s lips. “I don’t know how to stop.”

“You don’t have to.” His tongue flicked out, “Stop smoking, that is.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.”

“What are you talking about, then?”

Eren was being consumed by the fire in gray eyes, “Don’t play stupid.”

And oh how those pretty eyes lit up in return, challenging and fierce, “Only if you stop being so vague with me, Levi.”

Sly brat. Levi opened his mouth, retort at the ready, but the doorbell chimed with a customer arrival and all the tension turned into anger as a growl ripped from his throat. The only comfort was the disappointment and frustration that twisted Eren’s face.

He was about to stand up to greet the customer, but before he could budge, Levi grabbed the back hairs on Eren’s head, rough and tight and pulled him forward. He nearly fell into the liquid, but instead landed awkwardly on Levi’s lap, his hands grabbing broad shoulders for support. A throb of pain shot through his skull when their foreheads clanked together, yet all Eren noticed was the threatening promise, the guttural rumble of Levi’s words, “This isn’t over.”

Eren shivered, anticipation curling along his spine.

God how he hoped not.

How had he let things get so out of hand?

Okay, so now it was more obvious that Levi wasn’t going to reject him, nor had any plans to. If anything, rejection had been far from his mind, and far from Eren’s.

And now he didn’t know what came next.

That was a lie. He knew exactly what came next, or what Levi wanted to come next and Eren would be a liar if he said he didn’t want it, too. But it was coming a lot faster than he anticipated and it made him jumpy. Really jumpy, to be honest. At least he wasn’t shaking with nerves anymore, but whenever he felt Levi staring at him, every time he caught the man staring, every time he noticed the undying fire in his eyes his heart sped up a mile per minute and he thought he’d jump right out of his skin. All he could think about was the heady promise that this isn’t over and it made the rest of the store hours drag on that much slower and pass by that much faster.

“Eren.” He had to clutch the little plate and cup to prevent both from shattering all over the floor. Eren could swear Levi was saying his name on purpose now. The smirk was telling enough.

“Yes?” Eren hissed. “Did you need something?”

“…Never mind.”

Definitely on purpose. “Can you please stop doing that?”

“Stop doing what?” If Levi didn’t always look so neutral, Eren could swear he was trying his best to appear innocent.

“You know what.”

“No.”

“Now who’s playing dumb?”

Levi shrugged. Eren knew from day one that he was an infuriating man, he just never knew how much until now. “It’s almost time to close the store.”

“I know that.”

“Shouldn’t you start counting down the register?”

Two could play at this game. “I think I’ll wait just in case another customer comes.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed into catlike slits as he leered, positively predatory, “I’m not a patient man, Eren.”

He should take the warning for what it was, he really should. But something about it – something about Levi – made Eren want to poke the proverbial lion with a stick, “But you’ve always been so kind and patient with me, Levi.”

There was satisfaction in the tightening of Levi’s jaw. “Every man has his breaking point.”

That satisfaction gave way to anticipation and jitters as Eren gulped.

And now Levi was waiting for him and Eren thought he was going to start hyperventilating. Unless he already was. He couldn’t tell. His heart was going way too fast, everything was going way too fast but—

Eren didn’t care.

He wanted this. He wanted it for a long, achingly long time.

It took a minute or two to finally get his arms through the sleeves of his jacket – they’d been turned inside out – shrugged his backpack on and slammed the locker door closed.

For the longest time he’d wonder what it’d be like to kiss Levi, and with every step he took, his heart beat that much faster. “Levi—“

Eren half-expected Levi to be standing there with the usual took-you-long-enough deadpan stare; half-expected Levi to tell him to hurry the hell up and why was he taking so long. He didn’t know how they’d continue from where they left off earlier. Maybe Eren would finish where he started. Maybe Levi would pick it up first. Maybe he’d curl his fingers through hair like he did before. Maybe the kiss would be slow and hot.

His steps slowed to a halt, the smile slipping away from his face.

What Eren hadn’t expected was an empty store and the plummeting realization that Levi was gone.

I’m no saint
been fighting without faith for so long
and suddenly I am slain;
brought down by bright-eyes

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Toffee Nut Latte

It was a wonderful kind of anticipation: the memory of Eren’s eyes so close, lit with excitement and a hint of trepidation. The gentle inhale and exhale of breath as the distance shortened with every flutter of a heartbeat. Pretty soon Levi would get to do the one thing he could only fantasize about; the one thing he’d been patiently waiting for, biding his time with, holding himself back as not to ruin this delicate dance.

A kiss. That was all Levi wanted, that was all he waited for as he taunted Eren with little purrs of his name, as he teased him with burning promises for later. Just one, simple kiss but Levi was pretty sure it wouldn’t end with that. One kiss would lead to another if the tension that palpitated between them was any indication. He’d have Eren in every innocent way imaginable. Nothing too bad because he couldn’t forget they were in a public setting, regardless of them being the only two souls occupying the coffee shop or not. He couldn’t forget they had to take things slow, regardless of every desire to speed things up, regardless of the way Eren’s shoulders stiffened and his back straightened with the same kind of anticipation.

Eren would be his. Eren was already his, wasn’t he? Eren wanted him and he wanted Eren and what else mattered other than that?

And as the barista disappeared into the back to clock out for the night – giving a little squeak as his pace hastened because Levi’s grin was more wolfish than playful and oh it was the first time Eren saw something other than a smirk– Levi packed up his things. Anything could happen from this point on. Eren could change his mind. There was a possibility of them not kissing. Maybe Eren would decide between now and later that they were rushing things and though it would cause him real, physical pain, Levi would have to agree but he’d be damned if he said he didn’t want it. He wanted to be prepared for any outcome, any course of action that Eren wanted to take.

What he hadn’t foreseen was a tap at the shop window. Levi turned around, hands frozen against the collar of his jacket, brows furrowing. The crease only deepened further as he caught sight of a familiar, abrasive face pressed against the glass, beady eyes even smaller beneath the glow of streetlights. Levi’s shoulders stiffened with irritation, tongue clicking against teeth as he wondered how Auruo Bossard – of all people! – managed to find him. The thought didn’t please him in the least. If Auruo knew where to find him, that meant the others did as well, and who knows who else; something that Levi had been trying to avoid.

This coffee shop was his haven and he’d sooner annihilate any invader than have it be destroyed.

Auruo’s eyes widened as they landed on Levi, the tapping at the window growing more obnoxious. The glare Levi fixed him with was enough of a warning to get him to stop, but not enough to scare the blond man away. He sighed and grabbed his messenger bag, stalking out of the store with the intention of telling Auruo to get lost before Eren came out. That was the last thing he needed: the two of them seeing each other.

There was still the tell-tale hero worship in Auruo’s eyes that reminded Levi of younger days, but that turned to the pretense of a collected exterior – the result of hero worship – and as the saying goes, if you pretend something long enough, it just might become reality. Such was the case with Auruo.

“Yo, boss.”

Levi held a cigarette between lips as he lit it with a flick of his lighter. Everything about today was making him feel agitated: the possibility of his two worlds colliding (and not on his terms), the possibility that the anticipation from earlier was completely ruined, the possibility that his haven could no longer be that. “How did you find me?”

“Petra saw you come here a few times,” was the honest response.

Of course. It was hard to get anything by that woman. She may come off as sweet, but she knew everything. Even when you think she didn’t, chances are she did.

Smoke flared from his nostrils and mouth. “Who else knows?”

“Just the two of us, I swear.”

Perhaps his haven was safe, after all. Auruo may be a clumsy idiot who often bit his tongue, but he was the most loyal man Levi ever knew. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“If you don’t mind me asking—“

“I mind.”

“—why do you come here?”

This conversation was already taking thirty-seconds too long. Eren could come out any minute. Levi gestured for Auruo to follow him out of view of the shop’s window. “Did you need something, Auruo?”

“Gunther and Erd ran into trouble earlier with the Reiss family. I tried to message you about it earlier, but you didn’t respond.”

“What kind of trouble that you felt the need to track me down?”

“Those Reiss bastards were in our territory a—“ Auruo may have somewhat outgrown his hero worship, but he never outgrew his habit of biting his tongue at random intervals; hard enough to draw blood, “an’ pick’th a figh’ with them an’ th’ bo’th got involv’.”

“Which boss got involved?”

“Rei’th.”

Levi exhaled another puff of smoke. At least it wasn’t their boss. “I’m assuming Gunther and Erd are being held by the Reiss and need to be bailed out.”

Auruo nodded.

Well, Levi’s night was officially ruined. “I thought I told you guys to leave me out of family matters.”

“You’re th’ only one we can th’urn th’o, bo’th.”

“And to stop calling me that. I’m not as involved with the family anymore.”

“The Rei’th will li’then th’o you.”

Nights like tonight were a constant reminder as to why Levi continued to smoke even when he hated it, “Alright. Give me a minute.”

At first, Eren wasn’t sure how to feel other than the weight of dread sitting heavily in the pits of his stomach. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there staring at the empty bar that was typically occupied with a grouchy, older man waiting for him. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there listening to the clock, eachtick sounding louder than the rush of his blood. In reality it was probably only five minutes, give or take sixty seconds, but something about the sting of rejection made time drag out that much longer.

The dread didn’t last long before it was replaced with anger; white-hot growing anger that simmered beneath flesh, that sent his heart racing as he recalled every misleading action from tonight. Who did Levi think he was, flirting with Eren, to get Eren’s hopes up only to ditch him in the end? Every smirk, every heated stare and promise of this isn’t over – Levi knew. He knew how Eren felt. He knew what Eren hoped for, what he wanted, but where was he now?

Not there waiting for Eren, that was for sure.

And Eren was pissed. Beyond pissed. He hadn’t felt this angry in a long time; not when the so-called burglar punched him, not the customers who claimed he short-changed them, not even when he broke up with Jean, furious because said horseface didn’t know how to stop flirting even when he was terrible at it. The last time he felt this much anger he ended up suspended from school for a week, followed by a year’s worth of detention because he sent some kid to the hospital.

Yeah, well, that kid deserved it for being a bigoted, homophobic little shit.

And yeah, he was feeling angry enough to send someone else to the hospital, jail time be damned.

Levi knew so why wasn’t he here waiting? Had that been his plan all along? To string Eren along only to stomp on his feelings in the end?

No, he thought. That wasn’t right. Levi was the kind of guy who stayed after closing hours to walk Eren to his car because of one little incident. He was the kind of guy who never spoke lies, only told the truth. He was the kind of guy who didn’t do things unnecessarily, and walking Eren to his car to make sure he was safe wasn’t unnecessary in his eyes. He was the kind of guy who held his cup all weird, who wore pristine clothes, who harped at Eren for his shoddy cleaning skills, who sometimes got a gentle look in his eyes when they talked. He was the kind of guy who didn’t get people’s hopes up. He was the kind of guy who held Eren’s hand and kissed it and he was never rough, only ever gentle. He wasn’t the kind of guy to bail at a crucial moment.

The anger reverted back to dread, but a different dread; a why-would-Levi-leave kind of dread. Eren was pretty sure it’d have to be pretty darn important. He’d been pissed about leaving early one night because of work, after all. And now? They were going to – to… now is not the time to suddenly feel shy and flustered over that.

He could remember the frustration and anger and desire in Levi’s eyes when they’d been interrupted earlier. There was no way in hell Levi would ditch him after that.

So then why? If only he had Levi’s cellphone number, he could probably ask. But why hadn’t the guy just told Eren he was leaving?

The bell had Eren snapping back to reality.

“Eren, I—“

The relief that swept over him was instantaneous. Of course. Levi must have been waiting outside. Now he felt stupid for ever thinking otherwise. It must have been obvious what was on Eren’s face, because Levi looked confused, or as confused as he possibly could whilst showing very little emotion. It was impressive, really.

“…What’s wrong?”

“I thought,” Eren started to say, but stopped. He didn’t want to admit it. How could he admit that he doubted Levi for even a moment? “Never mind.”

Levi frowned as he released the door, allowing it to shut behind him. He studied Eren’s expression, unable to figure out why his cheeks were red and his eyes were averted in shame until it clicked. Maybe to anyone else it would have been funny, but to them it wasn’t. “You thought I left.”

“Yes,” he said, voice small with the same shame that burned his cheeks.

“Come here.”

Eren winced at the displeased tone. He was tempted to stay where he was, but he didn’t want to push the man’s patience anymore when it sounded on the verge of breaking. Up close, Eren could see the same displeasure, the mixture of impatience and patient understanding.  

“I should have said something before stepping outside.”

“No,” Eren interrupted. He didn’t want Levi to think he was a child even more. He didn’t want Levi to think he needed to baby him to protect his feelings, “I freaked out because I thought you were bailing on me. I thought you didn’t want— I don’t need you to worry about hurting my feelings. I was stupid to jump to conclusions.”

So don’t treat me like a child. Please.

“Don’t doubt me again, brat.”

A few little words and Eren was already at ease. He smiled. “I won’t. I promise.”

“And don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

The smile morphed into a serious frown. “I would never.”

The vehemence and surety in Eren’s voice reminded Levi of Auruo; honest and loyal and blindly putting their faith in Levi. As if he could ever betray that. “Good.” He crooked a finger. “Come closer.”

Eren blinked. “Um, why?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, but—“

Levi grabbed a handful of Eren’s jacket, pulling him closer with insistent tugs.

“L-Levi—“ Eren nearly tripped over his own feet. “What are you—?”

“I told you it wasn’t over,” Levi frowned, wondering why Eren was being so persistent about getting away. He gave a harsher tug, only to narrow his eyes when Eren clamped his hands over Levi’s mouth.

“I, uh. The moment’s kind of ruined.”

“The hell it is,” Levi grunted, albeit muffled.

“I realized that I wasn’t ready,” he explained nervously, still refusing to remove his hands. It sounded ridiculous, even to his ears, but he didn’t want to be dishonest. Eren didn’t want whatever it was between them to end up the exact same way his only relationship did.

Levi grabbed Eren’s wrists and pried them away from his face. “That’s not the impression I had earlier.”

“I was caught up in the moment,” Eren huffed. “I’m allowed to get cold feet, you know.”

“Not around me.”

“You’re being childish.”

“I waited all night.”

“You can wait longer.”

No, the childish part of Levi wanted to argue further, but the mature, adult part told him to see reason. The whole point of being patient for as long as he’d been was so he didn’t scare Eren away. He was sure if he pushed more he really would scare the younger male off. Possibly for good. “So be it. I will wait.”

“Thank you,” Eren sighed.

“But,” Levi drew Eren’s arms around his neck, his own hands falling to the barista’s waist, relishing in the little jump he felt, “I have some terms.”

“L-like what?” The bob of an Adam’s apple was a little too tantalizing.

“You’re going to let me court you.”

“Court?” Eren raised an eyebrow. “Who says ‘court’ these days? Oh right, you’re an old ma—“

Levi’s glare was enough to rescind his joke. “You’re going to let me court you,” he repeated, the edge in his voice softening, “and I’m going to tell you everything about me.”

Eren’s breath hitched, “Everything?”

“Hn.”

Eren smiled in the way that made Levi wonder whether it was the charm it displayed or the dazzling brilliance in his eyes that stole every miniscule part of Levi’s heart; from every piece that had remained impenetrable and isolated, to the tiny bits he had allowed anyone to breach. A hardened, born criminal like him rendered powerless by this brat’s adoration, it was laughable.  

The arms around his neck tightened, still timid, but a little more sure. “I can agree to those terms.”

The buzz of Levi’s phone reminded him that Auruo was waiting for him outside. Served him and the others right for ruining his night. Not that it ended up a complete waste. “No getting cold feet again.”

“I won’t,” Eren said, and to further concrete his promise, he leaned down a little ways to press his lips against Levi’s somewhat cold cheek. He caught the lingering whiff of smoke, but it was hard to care when the day ended up being the best day of his life thus far.

The distance between them was small and almost non-existent. It was enough that Levi could touch Eren, could tighten his hold on Eren’s waist, could be this close and this warm and this at peace.

They were close enough to embracing that, for now, it was enough.

It was enough because this was Levi’s haven.

Two days later.

“Thanks, Marco,” Eren said as the freckled-barista set the Toffee Nut Latte down in front of him, Marco’s personal favorite drink.

“No sketchbook today?” He leaned against the counter to stare curiously at Eren’s tablet.

“Nah. I wanted to try out my Christmas present.”

“Is that the Galaxy Note?”

“Yeah,” Eren grinned, twirling the stylus around his fingers, “My mom got it for me. It took a few subtle hints, but yeah.”

Carla snorted from her position next to the cash register. “A few subtle hints? I’m pretty sure passing by it at a store and saying ‘Oh golly gee I wish someone would buy this for me as a present for an upcoming holiday’ doesn’t count as subtle; let alone bringing it up during dinner conversation every week for the past couple of months.”

“I do not say golly gee,” Eren scowled. “And I’m way more subtle than that.”

“Oh, honey, I hate to break it to you, but subtlety isn’t your forte.” Far from it when Eren’s version of sneaking up on someone was creeping up from behind and yelling ‘Sneak attack!’ before pouncing. He wasn’t very quiet in his approach, either.

“Yeah, yeah.” He puffed his cheeks at his mother’s teasing smile. Now if only he could figure out what he wanted to draw first. Pft. As if that was hard.

Eren spent the hours before his shift started sitting huddled at the bar, tablet as awkwardly close to his chest as was physically comfortable while he dragged the stylus with quick strokes over the screen. His first intention had been to draw something for Rivaille’s new book, but forty-minutes later found his gaze tracing the rough sketches of a jaw, a fierce frown, the small curve of a nose and the slanted angles of glacial eyes. Well then, he thought, a helpless smile on his lips because somewhere along the way, Eren stopped caring that Levi invaded his subconscious so easily.

All of the happy jitters that had invaded him from two nights ago waned away to a familiar sense of irritation. For one, someone had a not-so-cleaning-friendly accident in the bathroom, for another, he was left wondering yet again why he never asked for Levi’s cell phone number because said man had yet to show up and it was already closing time. Eren reminded himself not to jump to conclusions for the second time. It was too soon to make himself out to be a fool all over again.

He was just about done counting the last bill in the register when the chime of the bell drew his attention to the entrance, “Sorry, we’re close—“ Eren tried not to smile, he really did; he wanted to stay irritated, but the sight of Levi standing there with the harsh contours of his expression easing away alleviated all of Eren’s earlier grievances, “You’re late, Levi.”

“I had errands to run,” Levi said as he tugged his gloves off, an unfamiliar person following him into the shop, wheeling in what appeared to be a tray.

“Who’s—“

“This is Auruo. He’s going to be our server tonight.”

The distasteful scowl on the man’s face didn’t give Eren the impression that he was a waiter. “Um, server for what exactly?”

“For dinner.”

“Uh,” Eren watched as Levi removed his coat and hung it over the back of one of the table chairs. It was strange that an even stranger man was with him, even more strange that Levi was choosing to sit at a table when he normally sat at the bar. “I don’t get it.”

“What’s not to get?” Levi turned to him, voice matter-of-fact, “We’re going to have our first date. Auruo, reheat the food.”

“Yes, boss.”

Eren had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Okay, ouch. So this wasn’t a dream. Levi was actually there with a so-called waiter and a tray of food with every intent to have their first date at the coffee shop. He finished counting down the register in somewhat of a daze, “You know, we could have gone somewhere outside of the shop if you had just asked.”

“True,” Levi said as he removed some items from the tray – were those candles and wine? “But this is my favorite place.”

How was it possible to say something so cheesy and make it seem like the most natural thing in the world? But it was still endearing and it had Eren blushing like a schoolgirl. He closed the register and smiled awkwardly at Auruo, who had invaded the back to reheat the food in the microwave. The man clucked his tongue and curled his lip in a sneer, and all Eren could think was that this man was a gangster of some sort. Why did Levi even associate himself with this type? Who knows.

“Come, Eren. And remove that apron.”

“Oh, right.” He hurried off to the back to do just that, only to return and find Levi holding out a chair for him. Eren gulped, “What are you doing?”

Levi didn’t bat an eyelash, “Waiting for you to sit your ass down.”

“Why—“

“You’re my date.”

“I don’t need you to do that.”

“I want to.” Petra said it was only proper etiquette, so why was Eren getting so flustered?

Eren wondered if he could die from embarrassment. “I don’t want you to. Just sit down and I’ll sit myself.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed to slits reminiscent of the glacial ones he had drawn, “Sit.”

“Fine,” Eren muttered, reluctantly doing as he was commanded. “But this is the only time.”

“Was that so hard?”

“Yes.”

“Brat.”

“You’re being the brat.” Levi picked up the wine bottle chilling in the ice bucket, or what Eren thought was wine but was actually Sparkling Cider. Eren quirked an eyebrow, “What are we, ten?”

Levi uncorked the bottle and poured them both a glass, “As if I’m going to let you drive after drinking.”

“You could always drive me home,” Eren pointed out, leaving or to your home unsaid. Whether Levi was thinking the exact same thing or something completely different was a little hard to tell when he gave nothing away with his expression.

“Are you even old enough to drink?” Levi sat across from Eren, bottle settled back in the bucket.

“At least I look my age.”

Eren couldn’t quite shrug off the peculiarity of the night. Here was Levi, a man who – up until recently – was just a customer that Eren had the biggest crush on, although that was putting it lightly. And now he was sitting across from Eren, a candle lit at the center of the table, their glasses filled with Sparkling Cider, intent on carrying his promise to court Eren. It was absurd, really. Everything about this was absurd and farfetched and if someone told him a couple of months ago that he’d be having a date at work, with an older man no less, he’d probably laugh it off. Because Eren didn’t do courting or dates or whatever the hell you wanted to call it.

But who was he to complain when it came to free food?

Free food that was currently being placed in front of them by the disgruntled waiter.

“Thanks,” Eren said, staring up at Auruo curiously, “So are you like, Levi’s butler or something?”

Auruo spluttered – Levi snorting into his glass— as he nearly dropped the plate of salmon sashimi, “Watch it, shitty brat. I’m no one’s butler.”

“Sor-ry. Are you guys friends then?”

“Have some respect. Boss is—“

“Auruo,” Levi interrupted, “That’ll be all.”

Eren watched Auruo stalk off with a tch, unable to shake the feeling that the little click of a tongue reminded him of someone.

“What’s that look for?”

Someone who sat across from him. “Oh, nothing.”

The silence that followed was comfortable and familiar, like every night they spend without conversing; with Levi tapping away at his laptop and Eren sketching in his book. But tonight, there wasn’t the pressure of work and the probability of customers interrupting them. There was only the dim lighting of the café, the gentle flicker of candlelight and the warmth of their little haven.

“So boss, huh?”

“Eat your food, Eren.”

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!
Today's special: Chocolate Chai Tea Latte

Eren’s eye twitched with every second that went by, the strain visible in his clenched jaw. His thumb trembled with the effort each gentle tap required. Just a little bit more, almost ther – that was a close one – almost, almost, al-most.

Game Over
Score: 65
Best: 66

Screw this game. Screw that stupid bird. Screw its stupid, little wings and its stupid, little beak and the stupid, green pipes and the stupid, blue sky that was sometimes a night sky and screw every little star in the background. Screw every chicken nugget that shitty bird reminded him off. Screw this game and the fact that the concept of it was simple but putting it into action wasn’t quite so simple and how could something so easy be so goddamn hard it just didn’t make any sense.

Eren was going to murder every single chicken nugget in the world. There was going to be a chicken-nugget-genocide and no one would blame him. They’d probably celebrate it, to be honest. He’d be the hero. Everyone would see him as their savior. Everyone would thank him and really it’d be the least they could do. He’d be their liberator and everyone would chant his name until the words Flappy Bird was naught but a horrid, distant memory; until the words Flappy Bird were whispers in people’s nightmares.

Levi rested his chin on hand as he watched Eren mutter to himself about mass slaughter and plucking feathers and something about torture and being the world’s only hope for salvation. It was an endearing sight watching Eren’s eyes go bright with bloodlust and if Levi wasn’t already enamored with the barista, he was sure he’d fall all over again for that twisted expression.

There was a small tug at the corners of his lips that Levi shrugged off as a muscle spasm.

“Give me your phone, Eren.”

He lifted his head, all murderous intent fading to confusion. “Eh?”

“You look like you’re going to break your phone.” Eren continued to squeeze said phone as Levi held out a hand, face patient. “I’ll return it to you later.”

“One more time.”

“No.”

“Just one more, I swear.”

“That’s what you said twenty minutes ago.”

“…I swear just one—“ Eren reluctantly gave in at Levi’s deadpan stare. He dropped his phone onto the awaiting palm, “fine. Have you decided what you want to drink?”

“I told you twenty minutes ago but you ignored me.”

“Yeah because you said Tai Chi and we don’t have that.”

“I said Chocolate Tai Chi Latte.”

Eren tried not to smile, he really did, but it was hard not to when Levi looked so serious while insisting Chai Tea and Tai Chi were the same thing.  “Pretty sure we’ve had a similar conversation before.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly be referring to.”

“And I’m pretty sure I said I hated you.”

Levi’s grip on his cup tightened. “I may recall that.”

“But I didn’t, not really.”

“Oh?”

Eren’s smile was easier this time; more subconscious and open for all the world to see. But only Levi saw and that was perfectly fine by him. He didn’t want the rest of the world to fall in love with him, too. “I’m also pretty sure I liked you the moment you walked in.”

Anyone else. If it was anyone else who said such a cheesy, cliché line to him, Levi would scoff it off. He was almost tempted to, if only to mask the flutter of his heart and how embarrassingly happy those words made him. Perhaps he was getting soft in his not-that-old age. But Levi had his suspicions his change of attitude had more to do with this honest boy and how he could go from looking murderous one second, to shaping the foam over the Chocolate Chai Tea Latte into a cat’s face the next.

“Here. One Chocolate Meow Tea Latte.”

“This isn’t on the menu.”

“It’s from the Secret Special Menu reserved only for the most special customers.”

 “And how many special customers have received this?”

He tilted his head, all proud and pleased with himself, the sway of his hair catching Levi’s attention. Eren’s hair grew out since they met back in October, but that shaggy look wasn’t so bad. “Only one.”

Whether it was intentional or not, Eren had a habit of leaning over the counter, always close enough that Levi could see the button press of his nose, the smudge of chocolate at the corner of his lips from the candy he had been sneaking from his pockets, the fall of hair around his ears and face and how he had to brush his bangs away from his eyes. “Good.”

“This is the Little Titan Café, what’s up?” Eren cradled the phone between shoulder and ear as he wiped down the counter. “Where we’re located? Right on 104^th Street, in-between Daz’s Dazzling Magic Shop and a floral store. Yup. No prob.” He set the phone back into the receiver.

Levi took a sip of his drink, “There are stores next to this?”

He was too preoccupied with his work to notice the incredulous look Eren shot him. “Seriously? You come here every night and you’ve never noticed the shops next door?”

“They are insignificant.”

“But still. It’s kind of hard to miss that neon purple sign. Going blind in your old age, huh?”

Levi squinted at his laptop. “I have an eye exam coming up, now that you mention it.”

“I see,” Eren said, missing the irony completely because his mind implanted images of Levi with glasses into his brain and oh what a sight to behold that would be.

“You got something on your chin, Eren.”

“Huh?” He wiped at it with the back of his sleeve. “What was it?”

“Drool.”

“What do you even see in that midget?”

Mikasa and Armin were taking the news better than Eren expected. Well, he hadn’t expected much of a reaction from Armin. Mikasa was the one he’d been worrying about, but so far she opted for passive aggressive tactics, with Levi a few stools down opting to passive-aggressively ignore her comments.

“He’s not that short, Mikasa,” Eren said. Okay, so maybe Levi really was that short but the way the man straightened in his seat and looked rather pleased that Eren would defend his heightly honor – Eren would say it again and again.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Now Levi was particularly keen to listen in on their conversation as he turned in his seat so he was facing them. He quirked an eyebrow, a miniscule quirk at the corner of his lips as if to say: I can’t wait to hear this.

“W-well,” damn that man making him all self-conscious. “He’s… handsome?”

“You don’t sound so sure of yourself,” Mikasa said, but Levi didn’t seem to think so because he looked just as pleased as earlier. “Please tell me you aren’t dating him because of something so shallow. Besides, he looks like an evil dwarf.”

Armin spat into his drink.

“Mikasa!”

She sniffed. “I’m just being honest. Something you’re not being.”

Eren sighed as he tried to think of a way to diffuse the situation. Levi was gripping the edge of the counter so hard Eren thought it was going to snap from the pressure. “Do you trust me, Mikasa?”

“Of course.”

“Then can you trust that I’m with Levi for all the right reasons?”

Mikasa buried her nose into her scarf, hiding the pout she was no doubt sporting. “…Okay. But next time don’t wait a month to tell us you’re dating someone.”

“There’s not going to be a next time,” Levi said.

“I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you, shorty.”

Eren groaned. So much for diffusing the situation.

“Congratulations, I guess,” Armin set his tea down while Mikasa and Levi glared at each other. “Have you told your parents yet?”

“One thing at a time, Armin.”

His parents were the next step, but Eren didn’t think they would have an issue. For one: they didn’t care when he came out of the closet (his father teased him with ‘it’s about time’ while Carla smacked her husband and proceeded to smile and reassure Eren that his sexual orientation changed nothing and thus ordered him to clean his room). For another: his parents were at least a decade apart in age. Whether they’d care in regards to their son and his choice of boyfriend was another matter. Procrastination just seemed lovely at the moment.

Boyfriend. Was that really what they were? Boyfriends?

If Levi staring Mikasa down with equal amounts arctic didn’t mean they were boyfriends, then Eren didn’t know what the word meant.

The vibration of his cellphone interrupted his thoughts. Eren pulled it out from the apron’s pocket and blinked at the text message on the screen.

Levi: What are you thinking about?

He glanced at Levi. The man was playing with his phone while Armin kept Mikasa distracted with the mention of Annie.

Eren: how do u know im thinkin of anything /?

Levi cringed at Eren’s atrocious spelling. Youth these days and their flippant attitude towards grammar and proper punctuation. Just because they were doing something as mundane as texting did not mean they should neglect the rules of the English language. He’d have to lecture Eren properly on that later.  

Levi: You always get this stupid, spacey look on your face.

Rude much?

Eren: i do nOT have a stupid look n i was wondering if we r boyfriends

Levi could forgive Eren for his terrible typos. He already had, if he was being honest with himself, because only Eren could make his face feel red from such simple and blunt questions.

Levi: Yes, you idiot.

A grin lit Eren’s face as he read the response. Sure they were dating, but he wanted to absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent sure so he didn’t make a fool of himself in the future.

Eren: wait when did i get ur number?

An idiot, but a cute idiot nonetheless.

“You want the dedication page by when?” His breath ghosted out, the bitter cold sharp against his face. The weather channel earlier that morning said it was supposed to snow sometime this week. Oh joy.

A knock at the shop’s window had Levi glancing up to see Eren inside, drawing something over the frosted glass with a finger.

“Alright,” was Levi’s distracted response into his cellphone.

Words. Eren was forming words. They were slow and awkward because he had to trace the letters backwards, but Levi barely registered what Erwin was saying at the other end of the line.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m listening.”

I like you.

There’d been many times Eren wanted to run his hand down Levi’s face, if only to smooth away the stern lines and wrinkles. He was sure he could count every single one of Levi’s expressions on one hand, the current one he was making being one of the few; a sweet, tender secret that he showed only to Eren as he touched the window with gloved fingers.

A bell chimed.

Me too.

What do you even seen in that midget?

Mikasa’s question haunted Levi for a bit. Alright, for a week or two. Give or take a day. He wasn’t lacking in the self-esteem department by any means. The question made him wonder what he saw in Eren.

Yeah, Eren had pretty eyes and a pretty face, and okay there was that ridiculously cute moronic smile of his and they were all shallow reasons. But Levi was a shallow person. He liked that Eren was pretty and handsome and every curve and dip of his body caught Levi’s gaze and speaking of gazes, Eren’s eyes were magnificent. He was a writer’s dream come true, a seamless stream of words brought to life. Or maybe that was just his bias talking.

“…so you’re telling me you want an iced coffee because a hot coffee has calories?”

“Well, duh. Calorie is a unit of heat, so if you cut out the heat, you cut out the calories!”

Eren tried. He really did. His mom had been on his case lately about being nice to customers, but there was only so much stupidity he could tolerate. “Are you stupid or something?”

Her jaw unhinged. “E-Excuse me?”

“Just because something is hot doesn’t mean there won’t be any calories.”

“I’ll have you know I’m not stupid. I read about it on the internet. I do my research. Now just make me my iced coffee.”

He rolled his eyes but made her drink anyway, setting it down on the counter when he was done. The sarcasm dripping from his voice was almost comical to Levi, “One dancing iced coffee, not to be confused with hot coffee because it has more calories.”

“Do you see what I have to deal with?” Eren asked after the customer left, gesturing angrily at the door.

Levi felt somewhat bad for him, but it was hard to when his favorite pastime was seeing Eren get all riled up. The shade of red Eren’s cheeks turned was the new black as far as Levi was concerned.

“You could at least pretend to look sympathetic.”

“I only have one default expression.”

Eren grinned. “Can’t argue there.”

There it was again: that ridiculously cute grin. It was Levi’s motivation to write, the reason he retreated into this little coffee shop every night. He composed haikus in his head – you have me writing / poems, novels and lyrics / like a lovesick boy – every love song reminded him of Eren – I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I— saw him in every story – “there are only these: sparkling eyes” – every cup of coffee he had in the morning because they always tasted stale and flat against his tongue, never as good as what Eren gave him. Nothing would ever be as good.

And that was why, despite Mikasa’s haunting question, Levi saw exactly what it was about Eren that made him like the barista and all of his haphazard - yet infectiously captivating – quirks. Because no one’s eyes were bright enough, no one’s smile captivated him quite the same, no one’s voice caught his attention just as much, no one else perked up when he approached.

“Have you ever broken a bone, Levi?” Random, but this was part of their deal.

“Several,” he admitted. “A few fingers, an arm, my nose, a leg.”

“Huh. Me, too. Don’t tell me it’s ‘cause you got into a lot of fights like I did.”

Perhaps it was a little strange, but Levi saw himself in Eren as well, and that alone was magnetizing enough.

“I did, yes.”

And no one was quite as excited to learn every gritty, boring detail about him. With exception to Eren whose mouth rounded into an ‘O’ of surprise and intrigue. “Really?”

“I was a bit of a delinquent back then,” ‘a bit’ being an understatement.

“I bet you’re still a delinquent,” Eren teased, “just an impeccably dressed one.”

Now would be the perfect time for Levi to confess the one thing Eren had been dying to know since they first started talking. He could have followed that up with “You’re not that far off the mark,” or “Now that you mention it.” Something cheesy like that would have worked just fine. The conversation would take off from there and Eren would pester Levi about every detail of his family life; maybe look all pleased with himself because he had brought it up a long while ago and Levi had denied it to his face. Maybe he’d be a little pissed, too, because he’d been right and Levi had denied it to his face. Maybe he’d be more than a little pissed. Maybe Eren wouldn’t think it was as cool as he said.

“Levi,” his name had Levi blinking out of his thoughts. Eren’s face was close, expression sure and patient as he gently entwined their fingers, “I’m still waiting and I’ll keep waiting. Whatever it is that you do,” he paused, brows creasing as he struggled to find the right words, “it may not be as bad as you think it is. If it is. Whatever it is, it ain’t going to scare me off.”

“Isn’t.”

“Eh?”

Levi squeezed his fingers. “It isn’t going to.”

Eren rolled his eyes, but leaned a little closer, smile innocent in that false, sly way as he pressed his lips to Levi’s cheek, “If it helps, whenever you do tell me, I’ll give you a proper kiss.”

“If I tell you right now, you’ll kiss me?”

And just like that, the bravado disappeared into a blubbering, red mess, “Er. N-no. Not now. Later. Not tonight later, either. Or tomorrow later. Maybe like, next week? Or next week plus a day? So like, eight days? Give another day or five?”

A seamless stream of words indeed.

Eren: what time r u coming today?

Levi: I’ll be a bit late today. Will try to be there by 10.

The nice thing about having Levi’s phone number (finally) was that Eren didn’t have to spend the rest of the night wondering when said man would arrive. The answer was always a text away. Sure it took him a good five or so minutes to respond, partially because Levi didn’t always hear his phone, but mostly because it took him eons to respond – the slow text-er that he was. Eren smiled at the thought of Levi sitting there scowling at his phone as he punched in letters whilst cursing beneath his breath whenever he’d have to go back and correct misspelled words.

It still astounded Eren that Levi remained true to his word: he never let Eren walk alone to his car at night, not once (except the time he closed with Marco). Even when he was running late, Levi was always there. Even in the past month and a half that they dated.

A nice, wonderful month and a half of little touches and details of their lives that they shared.

Eren’s smile turned fond as his gaze drifted to his tablet. It was still the first layer with a rough sketch, but Levi’s face stared back with a memory of those lips in a gentle, upward curve, gloved hand touching glass with the words I like you traced into what would eventually be frost on the window.

“Welcome to the Little Titan Café,” he said with a sigh, sliding the tablet off the counter as the door opened and the bell jingled. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a man wearing a fedora, but it also wasn’t a common sight. The customer had their head tilted down, the shadow of his hat falling over his face. “Is this your first time here, sir?”

The man crossed the distance between door and register with slow, sure strides, dark eyes casting a quick glance around the café. Two customers sat by the window chatting obnoxiously loud about an English paper for their Shakespeare class. He halted in front of the register, tilting his hat up a bit.

“Eren Jaeger?”

Eren narrowed his eyes, every feeling in his gut telling him to be cautious. “Yes?”

“I believe you’re acquainted with a man named Levi.”

Definitely cautious. “Maybe. Name sounds familiar, but I get customers coming in and out all the time.”

The other hand in the man’s coat pocket slipped out as he dropped a photo onto the counter. It was a picture of Levi and Eren talking rather intimately in the coffee shop, hands grasped in a less than professional way.

“Something tells me you two are more than just acquaintances, Mr. Jaeger.”

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!

Today's special: Butter Toffee Coffee

21:13

Eren stared at the photo, expression carefully blank.

Nothing good ever came out of a fedora-wearing-man walking into any situation. It sounded like the start of a bad joke, something like a man wearing a fedora walked into a bar, that ended with someone dead. Or adjusted. Like in that one movie with that one guy from Bourne Identity, the cute one – you know who he’s talking about, right? – he was also in that one movie where men wore a bunch of fedoras. Something about adjustment. It was at the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t quite get it out – aha!The Adjustment Bureau. It was strangely coincidental that he watched it just the other day with Mikasa and Armin, and a man wearing a fedora hat walked into the coffee shop which made him seriously consider that the two of them conspired to make this happen.

Said fedora-wearing-man looked to be around his forties, although maybe older because of the deep lines beneath his eyes and the five o’clock shadow he had going on.  The smell of cigarettes clung heavily to him, like he smoked recently and every hour prior to that.

He removed the fedora, black hair as unkempt as his appearance. If Eren squinted hard enough, he could spot the tell-tale grays in the man’s hair.

“Oh thatLevi. He comes here every now and then.”

The man slid into a barstool, hat placed next to him. “You two look rather… friendly in this photo.”

“Yeah, well,” Eren jabbed a thumb at the tip jar, “that thing doesn’t get full on its own.”

“You’re telling me all you do is flirt with him for tips?”

He shrugged. “It’s business. Like what I’m running here. Are you gonna order a drink or not?”

“Just get me whatever.”

“If you say so.”

It wasn’t hard to guess that the stranger didn’t like sweet things. Probably took his coffee as black as his hair used to be. Extra bold. No sugar or creamer. With that in mind, Eren went about making his drink, all the while sending curious glances as the patron flipped through a few pages in his notepad.

“Why are you asking about Levi anyway?” Eren finally asked as he set the cup of coffee down in front of the man. “Did he do something?”

“You could say that.” The man picked up his drink, and without so much as blowing at it or waiting for it to cool down, took a quick sip before instantly recoiling. “What isthat?”

“Butter Toffee Coffee,” Eren flashed a cheeky grin. “It’s not on the menu yet, but it’ll be up soon.”

Nose wrinkled, the man set the drink down and slowly pushed it away from him. “I see.”

Eren pinched a corner of the photo between index and thumb, holding it out of the man’s reach. “Just curious, mostly out of concern for my privacy because it’s a little creepy – okay, reallycreepy – that you have it to begin with,” he tilted his head, inspecting the picture through squinted eyes, “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice shot, but why do you have it anyway?”

“Because I took it.”

Eren glanced from the photo to the man, back to the photo, only to quickly turn back to the man and snatch the cigarette he was about to put between his lips, “Hey! This is a smoke-free zone. You can do that outside and not come back while you’re at it.”

“That’s –“ the man snatched his cigarette back, sitting huffily in his seat once he did, “—fine. You’re useless to me if you don’t know anything about Levi.”

Ha. Joke’s on you, asshole, because Eren knew plenty about Levi. They were dating, after all.

“If you knew what kind of man he was, you probably wouldn’t cover for him, so I can only conclude that’s not what you’re doing and you’re genuinely clueless,” he continued, unlit cigarette between fingers while he held Eren’s gaze with the same condescending mockery that honeyed his words.

That was all it took for anger to surge inside of Eren as he clenched his fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palms. Who the hell did this man think he was coming into the shop and openly taunting Eren? “I’ll have you know from my little encounters with Levi that he’s actually a pretty decent guy. Gentle, too.”

The man picked up his hat, cigarette tucked at the corner of his lips as he snorted. “Gentle.”

Eren bristled. “Yes, gentle. Sure he teases me sometimes and can be a little rude, but he’s never walked into my shop and took a photo of me without my permission.”

“You really are just a clueless kid, huh.” He tapped a pen against a page in his notepad, expression contemplative. To be honest, his actions reminded Eren of Levi whenever he didn’t have his laptop: constantly thinking and scribbling notes down. “What do you know about Rivaille?”

Eren blinked. “Rivaille?”

“Yeah. You know, the author of—“

“I know,” Eren waved his explanation of. “I know ofhim. What does he have to do with Levi?”

“Everything.”

“What? Because they know each other?”

“…Hm.” He jotted something down before shoving pen and pad into his pocket.

“The hell does that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“That ‘hm.’”

“Nothing.” Ignoring the irritated click of Eren’s tongue, he stood up and slid the fedora back onto his head, “Want some advice?”

“Not really.”

“Don’t get close to Levi. He’s not a good man.” He tossed a crumbled five dollar bill and a paper card onto the counter. “Keep the change.”

His exit probably would have been cool and infuriating to Eren – with the tip of his hat and the swirl of his coat as he turned around – but the doorbell jingled before he could get there, and before Eren could throw the bill back in his face and tell him to shove his change right up his ass.

If Eren wasn’t already pissed, he was definitely a million times more irritated with the latest addition to the shop’s patron count. But where a normal calm and collected smile would be on his face, as-impeccably-dressed-as-always-Erwin’s smile was calm and collected in a forced way and he didn’t bother to feign surprise as he caught sight of the fedora man.

“Oh, Nile. There you are.”

Nile? Eren’s attention bounced between the two men, anger waning to curiosity.

Fedora man, now identified as Nile, halted in his steps. “Erwin? What are you—“

“Silly old man, did you forget we were meeting in front of the shop to have dinner?”

“Old man? We’re the same age.”

Even Eren had to admit that Erwin wore their age better.

“Come, Nile. Let’s not harass the cute barista any longer. He probably has a lot of work to do.”

Nile frowned at Erwin, then at Eren, only to narrow his eyes. “Wait, do you two know each oth—‘

“My stomach is about to eat itself,” Erwin interrupted, ushering Nile out with a hand to his back. He glanced back at Eren, blue eyes warning him not to utter a single word. Eren snapped his lips closed because that’d been exactly what he was about to do.

“Damn it, Smith, will you stop—“

“Have a good evening,” Eren forced out, the door shutting on all of his unanswered questions and suddenly Thriving Ivory’s Love Alone came flooding into his awareness as it played over the speakers. It was his mother’s new favorite song.

He picked up the business card.

Nile Dok [Journalist]
Mobile: xxx-xxx-xx02 E-mail:[email protected]

With a tch, Eren crumbled it in his hand, not seeing any occasion where he would possibly need to contact that arrogant man. Clueless kid his ass. Eren knew all he needed to know about Levi. “Not a good man.” What kind of un-good man walked someone to their car every night? If Levi was so bad, why did he spend his nights at the café drinking lattes while listening to a college student slash barista’s ramblings about dull professors and favorite writers? What kind of bad man made him feel warm and safe and so –

Eren hovered by the small trash can. He knew the business card belonged in it, that he had no reason to hold on to it.

He’s not a good man.

It pissed him off. It pissed him off so much. All Eren wanted to do was punch that arrogant bastard in the face so hard it’d knock out the condescending superiority within. This – This Nile Dokpissed him off so much because within the few minutes of their first meeting, their first conversation, he struck every single nerve, every concern that festered at the back of Eren’s mind.

I’m no saint, Eren.

Those words hadn’t meant anything to him then. But they meant everything now. 

"—llo?"

"Oh, sorry," hastily pocketing the card, he turned to the customer. "Welcome to the Little Titan Café, is this your first time here?"

21:53

Tired. Eren was tired. He was tired of a lot of things, now that he thought about it. He was tired of customers. Tired that it was still winter. Tired that it was supposed to snow tonight – Shiganshina received a handful of snow days during January and February. Tired of all of the essays he had to write for classes that had nothing to do with his major. Tired because he was up until the ass crack of dawn playing 3v3 arenas in World of Warcraft – Eren on his hunter, Jean on his frost mage and Armin healing on his monk. That was all entirely on him, but Eren could still complain, couldn’t he?

Tired that everyone else seemed to know the most important details about Levi.

The shop had been empty as of twenty minutes ago, so he was left alone to be tired and bored. Not that Eren blamed anyone because of the imminent snow fall. It was also Sunday so they closed earlier than usual, and it was always a tossup whether the shop would be busy or not on Sundays. Typically during exam weeks they were, but there were no exams for college students that week.

Eren finished counting down the register. If a customer came in within the next five minutes, they’d be shit out of luck if all they had was cash.

At 21:58, he finished shutting down the register completely before heading to the front door to switch the sign from Open! to Closed.

And at 21:59, Levi was there on the other side of the door, hand on the handle as Eren held the sign mid-flip, brows furrowed deeper than usual, breath coming out in quick successions of misty clouds. The top buttons of his shirt had been undone, jacket barely hanging on, expression as haggard as Levi could possibly look. Snow peppered his shoulders and it was only then that Eren noticed it was snowing.

Eren pulled the door open, but it was Levi who spoke first, “We need to talk.”

He took in a small breath. “Yeah. We do.”

22:05

Maybe it was out of habit, but Levi was sitting in his usual seat at the bar, a cup of water between his clasped hands. A thick brown envelope sat on the counter next to him. Neither of them said anything as Eren slid into the stool beside him, nor after Levi took a sip of his water. The seconds ticked by. Another minute. Before finally, Levi sighed.

“I ran into Erwin when I was leaving Legion House.”

“Legion House?” The name sounded familiar. “Isn’t that—?”

“The publishing company, yes.”

“But why were you – and Erwin?”

“Erwin is a publisher for Legion House, so he works there. I was there on a business errand when I ran into him. A man was with him that I believe you had the misfortune of meeting.”

Eren made a face. “Oh. Him. That journalist guy.”

“Nile Dok. He mostly writes for the Sina Sentinel.”

“What’s he so interested in you for?”

The way Eren squared his shoulders and sounded fiercely protective brought the faintest of smiles to Levi’s lips. “He’s more interested in finding out about Rivaille.”

“Because no one knows who he is and it’d be a really big story if it was found out?”

“Ah.”

The barista nodded. “And he somehow found out that you know him and has been scoping you out, even going as far as stalking you all the way here and taking pictures of us.”

Levi choked on his water. “What?”

“But,” Eren continued, giving him a pat on the back, “it doesn’t really explain how all of these people know so much about you, even that Dok guy.”

“That’s why I’m going to tell you about Rivaille.”

“I want to know about younot Rivaille.“

“Just listen.”

Eren pursed his lips, fighting back the million questions and protests he had. It was obvious Levi was delaying saying anything further by downing the rest of his water. A hand settled over his arm, light and reassuring that it drew Levi’s gaze to the steady, patient ones of Eren Jaeger; as if to say it’s okay. Take your time. It brought a painful squeeze to his heart because Eren was always like that. Always so patient. Always waiting for Levi. Always accepting of the tiny, mundane details Levi told him. Always waiting for the important things that he couldn’t bring himself to say because he didn’t want to ruin the image Eren probably had of him.

That was probably Levi’s problem. He was convinced that Eren had built up a perfect image of him, when in reality he had no way of knowing what went on in Eren’s head. He was convinced he’d ruin Eren’s perfect image of him, when in reality it was Levi who wanted to be perfect in his eyes.

"Rivaille…" The words were stuck at first, but they slowly fell out one at a time. The more he spoke, the easier it became, "…didn’t always get along with his family, or his parents. They were hardly around, leaving the nannies to do most of the raising. It didn’t help that, at a young age, he’d been exposed to the things his family did - illegal things."

It was at this point that Eren wanted to smile and tease Levi for speaking so many words and sentences at once, but that would ruin the mood. He nodded, urging Levi to continue.

"By the time he was a teenager, Rivaille got into a gang. He was already a troublesome child prior to that: getting into fights, vandalizing property, stealing, playing hooky… typical hoodlum things. He got into so much shit…" Levi ran a hand down his face, as if embarrassed by all of the things he knew Rivaille to had done, "Anyway, if it wasn’t for his father forcing the ‘family business’ on to him, he’d probably still be stuck in that gang shooting up somewhere. Or in jail serving a life sentence."

"Rivaille was a drug addict?"

"No. But he could have been had he stayed any longer," was Levi’s grim response. "Rivaille may not have liked his parents, but by then he had nowhere else to go. College was a bust. Had no real work experience to get by without them. And it’ll probably sound strange, but long story short, Rivaille grew up because of his family business. It taught him a lot about being a man, about the importance of family and loyalty; that family is the most important bond there is."

Eren smiled, head tilted. “Sounds like the mafia or something.”

"That’s because his family business is the mafia, Eren.”

He blinked once. Twice. Three times. “…Ehhh?! No way!”

"Why do you think Rivaille hides behind a pseudonym?"

Well, that did make sense. Who knows how much flack Rivaille would get if people found out he was a published author, let alone all of the media attention. “But that’s just…”

"Crazy?"

"Yeah! It’s just — wow," Eren trailed off in wonder. "Does that mean you — that you’re also —?"

The moment of truth. 

"Yes," Levi said, looking away and instantly regretting it. The silence that followed was stifling as a stiffness settled in his shoulders from the effort it took not to move. He wanted nothing more than to see Eren’s reaction. Perhaps it was too soon. Perhaps he should have waited. Perhaps Eren wasn’t actually ready to hear and now it was too late.

"…So I was right!" Triumph. He sounded triumphant. Even looked it now that Levi allowed himself to look. "I called it. I so called it.”

"You could be a little more serious, Eren."

"Yeah, well," he was positively gloating now, "I was right and you lied to me. Not that I blame you since we were strangers back then. But you know, it kind of fits you. The whole mobster thing."

"This isn’t something you should be taking so lightly," Levi said, warning trickling into his tone as he leaned a little closer. "Mobsters aren’t nice guys."

"But you are," Eren’s frown was petulant and stubborn. "And don’t say you’re not because I am tired of you and everyone around you thinking you’re some kind of bad guy. Because you’re not. You’re –“ The words died between lips as Levi gently cradled Eren’s face between his hands, eyes so tender and warm it had Eren’s heart aflutter. He didn’t think it’d ever go away, the fluttering.

“Thank you, Eren.”

Eren pressed his hands over Levi’s. “You’re a good man, Levi, with a good heart. Even kindhearted mobsters exist.”

“Are you so sure about that?”

“I’m positive.”

“I could eat you up right now—“ my little gingerbread man.

“Maybe I’d let you.”

A pained groan. “Do not test me, Eren.”

“Kiss me, Levi.”

He really thought Levi was going to do just that. It was in his eyes, in the way he glanced at Eren’s lips all heated and desperate and wanting – but he didn’t. He pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed as if to compose himself, “There’s one last thing and then everything will be out in the open.”

“Alright. Spill.”

“I need you to read something.”

Eren scowled, tone impatient, “Can’t you just tell me whatever it is?”

His eyes opened, the earlier heat gone but a tiny hint of desperation still lingered, “Please.”

“Alright. What did you want me to read?”

Levi grabbed the brown envelope and held it out to Eren, who took it hesitantly because it was rather thick and the quick reading he thought he’d do was actually not going to be a quick reading at all. “Don’t open it yet. When you get home, okay? You’ll understand what it is.”

What was another day or two? Eren nodded, hugging what felt like a large stack of 8x11 pages to his chest. “Alright.”

The kiss that Levi pressed to his forehead and the warmth that spread all the way to his toes made waiting all worth it. “Thank you, Eren.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For being so patient.”

He clutched onto Levi’s shirt, head dipped to hide the happiness he was pretty sure was written all over his face. “I’d wait forever for you, Levi.”

23:57

Eren bounced on his bed, crossing his legs and settling himself comfortably as he opened the brown envelope and pulled out the contents from inside. He was a little confused at first, but his breath almost instantly stuttered to a halt as he recognized the cover art staring back at him. Recognized it because it was his art. Because it was the one he rambled on about to Levi, remembered being so beside himself that Levi and Rivaille approved it.

Was rendered breathless because Attack on Eoten: Humanity’s Hope was printed at the top and both the author’s (Rivaille’s) and illustrator’s (Eren’s) name were at the bottom.

A draft. This was a draft of the novel and all Eren could do was stare at the cover in wonder and amazement because he made that. And for whatever reason, Levi wanted him to read the draft first, so he pried his gaze away from the cover in order to flip the page.  The first page was the dedication page.

Everything fell into place after that.

—for my bright-eyed barista:

I’m no saint
been fighting without faith for so long
and suddenly I am slain;
brought down by bright-eyes

Omake

Levi frowned distastefully at the man occupying his seat. “…Erwin.”

Said man took a polite sip of his tea. “Levi.”

“You’re sitting in my seat.”

“Oh? I don’t see your name anywhere on it.”

Real mature. “May I ask what the hell you are doing here?”

Erwin smiled, blue eyes twinkling at the pretty-eyed barista helping a customer. “Falling in love at a coffee shop.”

-5 seconds later Erwin was tossed out of the café by a very angry little man-

“Fall in love at a different coffee shop, Shitwin. This one’s taken.”

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!

Today's special: Caramel Flan Latte 

It was stupid. This was stupid. He was stupid.

It was laughable, really. Tragically so because Levi (stonehearted, purebred thug, capable-of-murder-Levi, mind you) was standing outside of the coffee shop – something he seemed to find himself doing a lot lately; waiting outside in the darkness, as if afraid to step into the light – hesitating to go inside, a small bouquet of flowers clutched in his right hand.

What had he planned on accomplishing with those flowers? I’m sorry, Eren, for never telling you right away that I was the author you so adored. That I am a terrible man. That I am a criminal. That I was born a criminal. That you should have nothing to do with me. That I still want everything to do with you, regardless.

Eren wasn’t some foolish girl who could be swayed by a few measly daffodils.

Not that all girls could be swayed with flowers. Most women in the family often tried to castrate their partners if they were stupid enough to piss them off and try to make amends with a dozen roses. But that was because most people in the mafia were naturally violent and Levi was a hundred percent positive that Eren was just as violent – if not more so (despite never having seen Eren get into any physical fights, personally). And the fact of the matter was, Eren wasn’t like most people, nor was he a girl, let alone a normal girl who probably would at least accept the flowers begrudgingly before making his life hell.

Eren was Eren. A young man. A man.

God these flowers were a stupid idea. What the hell was Petra thinking?

“I was thinking that they’d be a nice gesture.”

Levi didn’t glance at her. “Why are you here again?”

“I drove you over.”

“Hm.”

“Because you were too scared to do it yourself.”

“….”

Petra’s smile was patient. “He can’t kill you unless he wants to go to prison, so rest assured, boss.”

Levi’s expression settled into a grim one. “I would never let Eren go to prison.”

She sighed, the point completely going over his head. “Would you like me to go in first and assess his temperament?”

“No.”

Five seconds ticked by. “Then are you going inside?”

“…”

No way. It couldn’t be, could it? But as she stood there studying his profile, Petra could see it in the darkness of his gaze, the blacker than usual circles beneath his eyes, the twitch in the crease of his eyebrows that Levi was scared. “What are you so afraid of, boss?”

“I told you guys to stop calling me that. I turned down the head position a long time ago.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you completely dodge the question.”

He closed his eyes, head lowering with a small sigh. He hadn’t known what to expect when he gave Eren the draft. A text message. A phone call. Both angry, perhaps. Maybe something along the lines of I can’t believe you never told me. But Levi received neither call nor text, nothing to indicate Eren’s feelings or that Eren even read it. Maybe he was thinking too much over things, maybe there was nothing to worry about. Maybe there was everything to worry about. Eren probably never saw the poem at the back of his drawing, probably didn’t get the hint. Was it too vague? Was it too cheesy? Was it so unbearably cheesy that Eren realized he wanted nothing to do with Levi?

Why had he let Petra talk him into buying flowers again?

“Am I too old to be afraid of things like this? Of…” Levi rubbed his temples, voice strained, “…rejection.”

“No, Levi. It’s perfectly natural. But is that really what you’re worried about? You’ve been dragging your heels around for a while now.”

Damn women and their power of perception.

“Enlighten me— since you seem to know so much— what exactly am I worried about?”

Petra quirked a challenging brow as she proceeded to tick off every one of Levi’s insecurities from each perfectly manicured nail: “You’re too old for Eren. His parents probably won’t approve of your relationship. Society won’t approve of your relationship. Eren may get bored of you as you get older. Eren may get bored of you when he realizes how truly boring you are. He’s too good for you because of how dark your life has been… blah, blah, blah. Need I carry on?”

Well when she put it like that… Levi rubbed his chest. “No.”

“Can I be frank with you, boss?”

He wanted to point out that she was already being frank with him, but smartly chose to keep his mouth shut to nod his consent.

“Your insecurities are an impediment. Disregard them. Since when did you care what others think of you? Since when did you care what the norm was and what was appropriate by societal standards? The man I know goes after what he wants and doesn’t mope about things he can’t change.”

When he didn’t respond, Petra gave his shoulder a little nudge.

“If you understand all that, then what are you doing standing around? Your boyfriend is waiting for you.”

“I was remembering a time where you used to speak kindly to me.”

She laughed. “Good luck, boss.”

Levi grabbed the handle of the door, lingering in the winter cold for just a little longer. The weather channel mentioned something about a chance of snow tonight. “How will you get back?”

“Auruo is coming to pick me up. Oh, and boss?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t forget to properly introduce Eren to us later.”

“Maybe.”

The bell chimed with his arrival.

Eren couldn’t figure out how he ended up sitting ankles crossed on the café floor as he let a five year old girl do who-knows-what to his hair. He had just given her the usual – “One dancing, hot, boiling chocolate lava with an explosion of sprinkles and whipped cream!”— when Lily chided –chided! –him about his hair (“What if your hair gets into drinks? It’s too long now.”). Yeah, he couldn’t believe it, either. A five year old chiding him. Unbelievable.

Every tug and pull at his hair as little chubby hands bunched it all together had Eren’s head throbbing, but he gritted his teeth and sat obediently through the pain. Lily decided the green-glittery hairband was the best choice because they matched Eren’s eyes, and only after she was done and thought Eren was more presentable did she beam with satisfaction.

“All done!”

“Thanks, Lily,” Eren scratched his scalp, loosening some of his hair for relief. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“You should just get your hair cut.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Hmph.”

Eren grinned crookedly. “I just hope you didn’t use some girly hair tie.”

Her expression was purely angelic as she hid her crossed fingers behind her back. “No I didn’t.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

“I’m sorry about my daughter,” Lily’s father apologized, taking one of her hands in his.

“It’s okay,” Eren lifted his head up with a smile. “My hair’s been a nuisance lately because it’s always getting in my face, so she did me a huge favor.”

“Oh, for the drinks,“ the man started to hand a ten dollar bill but Eren waved him off.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he trailed off as the café door opened, attention brought to the front, everything slowly halting as he caught sight of Levi standing there and suddenly it was like seeing Levi for the first time all over again. His heart may as well be performing for the Olympics with how high they somersaulted; pretty sure it was stuck in his throat right now, making it difficult to swallow. Truth be told, Eren didn’t know how he was going to approach Levi ever since the revelation last night. He thought to be angry. He thought to be happy. He thought to be upset and send Levi away until he could collect his thoughts.

But there was nothing to think over, he realized.

Eren did too much of that lately. Too much thinking. And he was tired of it. Tired of wondering and doubting and hoping because there was nothing to wonder about. Nothing to be doubtful of. There was only everything to hope for – only all of the good things.

“Levi,” he finally breathed.

Levi stood there, sharp gaze darting to Lily and her father and then to Eren, not really knowing what to do with himself or how to approach Eren. His grip on the flowers tightened, the plastic wrap crinkling beneath his fingers. There was a word at the tip of his tongue, a name he had to get out, but all of that stopped at the sight of the barista sitting on the filthy floor with his pretty smile and his pretty face and his pretty eyes and his un-filthy everything and how was it possible for a little pony tail to look completely and utterly adorable on a man, Levi could not compute.

This. This otherworldly creature was his.

Not in the possession kind of way; not in the Levi-could-do-whatever-he-pleased kind of way. In the way that people offered up their hearts and their trust. In the way they made themselves completely vulnerable for another person. And Levi finally got that.

“Eren.”

Eren was his. He could see clarity in those green eyes.

“Hi,” the barista greeted, smile so warm and welcoming it brought dimples to rosy cheeks.

Levi was Eren’s.

“I got you –“ Levi cleared his throat, awkwardly lifting the bouquet of daffodils. “I got you flowers.”

There wasn’t disgust or horror or confusion, only a startled happiness. “Thanks.”

“They’re daffodils.”

“Oh?” Eren was on his feet walking towards Levi.

“Mm.”

He held the bouquet between his hands, just above Levi’s own. “They’re beautiful.”

And he meant it.

Levi didn’t care for flowers. Didn’t think they were all that great. They smelled strange. They died easily. They were fragile and easily destroyed. But if they made Eren smile like that, then he’d pluck a thousand more.

Because he loved Eren Jaeger.

(The little spell they were under shattered away once the coos of awe and applause from the rest of the customers made them both very aware they were being watched.)

“I can’t believe no one said anything,” Eren mumbled. What made it even more embarrassing was his mother being there – his mother who was currently putting the flowers into a water-filled vase.

“Who could say anything when you two were busy making lovey-dovey eyes at each other?” Carla asked, Levi snorting into his Caramel Flan Latte. Levi didn’t care that a bunch of strangers saw them, would have been completely fine if it wasn’t for Eren’s mother being there. She adjusted the flowers in the vase, sorting them in a way that gave the stems enough space. “It’s nice to finally be properly introduced to you, Levi.”

“It is nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Jaeger,” Levi said, tone courteous.

“I understand you are dating my son.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And that your age difference is questionable.”

“…Yes.” As if he could deny it.

Carla sighed when she was satisfied with the arrangement of daffodils. “I should probably have told my son how inappropriate that is—“

“Mom,” Eren groaned.

“—but that would be hypocritical of me.” She smiled reassuringly. “After all, Grisha is fifteen years older, and our age has never been an issue between us.”

Eren blinked. “Seriously?”

Carla eyed her son critically. “You never knew?”

“Well I never knew how old you guys were.”

“You don’t know how old your parents are?” Levi quirked an eyebrow, enjoying the way Eren was put on the spot.

He stammered over his words. “Why would I care how old they are? They’re my parents. I assume they’re really old—“

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, you still look young, mom. Not a day over twenty.” Whew. Dodged a bullet with that one.

“Anyway,” Carla returned her attention to Levi, leaving her son to help the customer that approached the counter, “It truly is nice to meet you, Levi. Perhaps you would like to come over for dinner sometime so we can get to know you more properly.”

“Is that really necessary?” Eren asked, voice panicked as he took the customer’s money.

“I would love nothing more, Mrs. Jaeger.”

“It’s a date then!”

What the heck just happened, Eren wondered as he made the drink in a daze. One second his mom was putting the flowers in a vase, the next her and Levi were planning a night for him to come over for dinner. She left the shop with a smile and a fly kiss, winter coat on and purse on arm. Eren handed the customer his drink, still confused.

“What just happened?”

“I’m coming over for dinner next week.”

“Why would you agree to that?”

“Because she’s your mother.”

Eren sniffed haughtily. “And who said I even approved? I’m mad at you, you know.”

Levi set his cup down, poker face on, “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

He leaned his jaw into the palm of his hand, both smug and cool all at once and Eren truly was mad at that moment. But he couldn’t stay mad because he was never angry to begin with. Not really.

“…Okay fine, I’m not mad. I still can’t believe it though – well I can, I think. I just have a hard time grasping that you’re—“ Eren lowered his voice to a whisper, “Rivaille.”

“I didn’t think you’d get it, being as dense as you are,” Levi teased.

“I’m not that dense.” Eren leaned over the counter. It didn’t escape Levi how comfortable Eren was around him, how open his body language was and how every movement seemed to gravitate towards him. “I didn’t know what to think at first. I thought maybe I was just making it up.. But the more I thought about it and played everything over and over in my head, it all made sense. And I was just… I’m just happy.”

Relief. Levi had been concerned over this unpredictable boy for no reason. But that was why he was drawn to Eren: for his unpredictability.

Levi was happy, too. It was a strange thought. To be happy. He never considered himself happy or unhappy. He’d always just been.

“I am as well.”

“Is your father as open as your mother?”

Eren looked out the shop window. Just as the weather channel said, it was snowing, but thankfully nothing was sticking. He flipped the sign to Closed. “My dad is just… indifferent. So yeah, he’s open I guess.” He craned his neck around, sending a smirk at Levi from over his shoulder. “Are you scared, Mr. Mobster?”

Levi’s face remained blank. “Mobsters like me ain’t scared of nothing.”

Eren wasn’t sure if it was a slip of the tongue or on purpose, but the slang sounded oddly nice coming from Levi. More natural. He stared through the window, breath ghosting over the chilled glass. “Where do we go from here, Levi?”

“We go home.”

“You know what I mean.”

He heard the shuffle of Levi sliding off the stool, heard his approach, saw his reflection in the glass as he stood next to Eren. “Tomorrow, when you’re done with class, I’m going to take you out for lunch. We’re going to meet at Little Italy, and we’ll eat, perhaps in silence, perhaps in conversation. And then that night I will come find you here. You’ll be working, and so will I. And the day after that, you can pick a place to eat at. Every day onward, I don’t care where we go or where we’re at. I will take you where you want to go. If it’s to the movies, okay. If it’s another country, okay.”

Eren tilted his head ever so slightly, just enough that he could press his cheek against Levi’s shoulder.

He wanted to cry for some reason. He wanted to cry not because he was sad, but because he was happy, because he felt so peaceful standing there, listening to Levi’s words and his voice. Eren never thought he was capable of loving someone so much. But here he was. There they were.

He wanted to cry because everything was the same and everything was different. Levi was still the silent, apathetic man who first strolled into the shop, but he wasn’t at the same time.

He wanted to cry because Eren fell so hard for Levi at the very beginning, but that’d been a silly crush that grew into something more.

“Are you crying, Eren?”

A small sniffle. “Of course not.”

Insistent, callous hands grabbed his face and there was nothing Eren could do to hide his tears. “You’re beautiful when you cry.”

“That’s the most sadistic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I hope you’re not regretting this now,” Levi said, catching the tears with a stroke of his thumb.

“It’s too late for that.”

“Exactly. You’re stuck with me, Eren.”

“Good.”

February would be ending soon. This was probably the last snowfall of the season, Eren thought as he locked up shop behind him. Spring was coming next month and the weather was going to get warmer (“Thank goodness,” Levi grumbled. Although, to be honest, he grew a little fond of winter; was quite fond of the cold and going into warm places, into warm little coffee shops where a bright-eyed barista always made him feel warm).

Eren held out gloved hands, catching snowflakes and watched as they melted onto leather.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

Levi tightened Eren’s scarf. “If you keep standing there like an idiot, you’ll catch a cold.”

“I thought idiots couldn’t get sick.”

“So you admit that you’re an idiot.”

“That’s—argh, you!”

Levi laughed. Laughed. It wasn’t one of those stomach-clutching laughs, or a loud, obnoxious one. It was a low, hearty rumble that had butterflies fluttering in Eren’s own stomach, that had his heart pit-pattering and tripping over every beat. Because Levi laughed and he smiled and it made his eyes crinkle with uncharacteristic brilliance.

He waited until the laughter died down because it was rare and it was lovely and warmed Eren straight to his toes. He waited until Levi settled down into a heartbreakingly tender smile, until Levi was looking at him, until there was nothing to laugh about or talk about before Eren threw his arms around Levi.

It was zero hundred and they were kissing.

It made them dizzy. It made them weak. They didn’t dare press too hard, didn’t dare break down the borders. At least not yet. Not when something so gentle, something so sweet made Eren’s knees wobble and knock into each other that Levi had to hold him up, hands fisting the back of his coat, arms tight and warm and secure. Eren held on for good measure, fingers weaving into hair; didn’t think he could let go even if he wanted to, didn’t think he ever wanted to.

It wasn’t explosive, but it was… it ignited something in them both. A fire that would only grow and burn brighter and hotter.

Their lips were chapped from the cold, but that didn’t last long, and everything was hot and Eren was sure his face was red. He was sure he was melting.

And oh how sweet Levi’s little gingerbread man tasted, like caffeine, like cinnamon and sugar and everything to be desired. But he dared not devour Eren like he wanted to, he reminded himself, catching Eren’s bottom lip between his teeth. He let it go, kissing the corners of Eren’s mouth, kissing his lips, softer, harder, until he had Eren backed up against the building, until he was sure he couldn’t hold himself back any more like he told himself to do point three seconds ago. Until Eren’s ragged breathing and guttural moan shattered the still winter night.

And oh how quickly that fire grew and Levi wanted more, so much more…. He caught those bright eyes, dazed and glossy.

It took Levi a while to realize that even he was out of breath.

“Was that… okay?”

“Yes,” was Eren’s raspy response.

“I apologize. I got carried away.”

“So did I.”

Levi wiped away a sliver of saliva sticking to Eren’s bottom lip. They parted, plump and red and inviting. So sweet. He felt young and seventeen again, ready to jump Eren after just a kiss. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow we will meet at Little Italy for lunch.”

“What time?”

“Eleven-thirty.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Tomorrow, then.” Levi’s eyelashes lowered to Eren’s lips.

“Tomorrow,” Eren agreed, fingers tightening in Levi’s hair.

“One more for the road.”

“One mo—“ before Eren could parrot the words, they were kissing again, this time without the fire that threatened to consume them. It was there. It would always be there. But they pushed it back in favor of something more merciful.

The world was silent all around them, the snow continued to fall, time continued to pass, and the last of winter faded away.

Chapter Text

Three months later - May

“Eren,” Levi removed his glasses just as Eren turned to him, brows furrowed in agonizing pain. He stared pleading and hopeful – was Levi going to offer him some sage, helpful words to get him through this tough time in his life? Adults were full of those, right? Wise advice. It seemed so, with the way he held Eren’s gaze, unwavering, his words a seamless stream of confidence, “Writing an essay is like taking a particularly stubborn shit. You just have to force it out.”

Two seats down, Armin nodded. “He has a point, Eren.”

“So this is the advice of an adult, huh,” Mikasa dragged a long sip from her raspberry smoothie, exchanging somewhat hostile, sideways glances with Levi. Somewhat because they managed to tone it down the past couple of months. The keyword here being somewhat. They still had a lot of work to do, but Eren was pleased to note they were learning to tolerate each other.

But that happiness was short lived.

“Real mature, Levi.” Eren groaned, plopping his forehead against the bar counter.

“This is your last final, right?” Armin smiled encouragingly. “At least your professor didn’t give you an exam.”

“That’s true,” Eren sighed, raising his head back up. He couldn’t Sparknote his way through a final exam, that was for sure, especially when he hadn’t even read the assigned material from spring semester. Just this last essay for Frankenstein and he’d be free.

Until August, but he didn’t want to think about that far into the future, not when the near future involved summer break, trips to the beach, adventure parks, probably more work hours, moving into the new apartment with Armin and Mikasa, more time with his boyf—with Levi. Yeah, boyfriend just didn’t sound right for some reason and every time Eren thought of the word he got all red in the face and embarrassed and – “Eren, why are you blushing?”

“Shut up, Mikasa. I’m not blushing.”

“He’s probably thinking of his boyfriend,” Levi said, sliding his glasses back into place.

Eren gulped, choosing to ignore him by glaring heatedly at the blank, college ruled paper on the counter. He was supposed to be writing his essay. Right. But how could he when spring was there and the warmer the weather got, the less formal attire Levi wore? Like today he was wearing a fitted t-shirt. A t-shirt that was particularly snug around his biceps and chest. And yeah he looked way too handsome with those thin, black-rimmed glasses. More mature. Not that he didn’t already look mature considering he was older and an adult but he always looked young for his age but with glasses he looked older and Eren really needed to stop rambling away in his mind when he had things to focus on.

Eren was an adult, too. Or he was supposed to be. What college student was ever truly an adult, though?

Maybe it was an older-adult thing, or just a Levi-thing, but he always seemed to know what Eren was thinking because as soon as Eren glanced up, he caught Levi staring at him, all knowing and smug. But there was tender adoration, too, and that left him more flustered than any teasing words.

“A-are you guys already done with your finals?” Eren asked his friends, desperate for any form of distraction.

“Oh, yeah. I was done last week.” Mikasa was lucky that all of her classes had finals within the first week.

“I just have to submit my undergraduate thesis,” Armin shrugged.

He made it sound so simple. “Ugh, you’re too smart, Armin.”

“You shouldn’t have put off your general courses for so long.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He probably shouldn’t have slacked off in college by working more and taking fewer classes, now Eren had to stick around one more semester before he graduated.

Mikasa finished off her smoothie with a final slurp. She picked up her duffle bag, setting it on the counter as she pulled the strap over her shoulders. “Gotta head out now. I’ll see you guys next week.”

Armin tilted sideways a bit to give her room to maneuver her bag. “Have fun.”

“Wish I could stay for the party.” Mikasa frowned. “They couldn’t have just rescheduled our annual family camping trip?”

Levi’s attention was momentarily caught by Mikasa sliding off of the barstool, his gaze moving over her duffle bag and over ‘Ackerman’ that was written in black sharpie over scotch tape. “Ackerman, huh.”

“You know my family?”

“Hm. Who knows.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“My last name is also Ackerman.”

Three pairs of eyes stared at him.

“My name is Levi Ackerman.”

“What?”

“Why are you surprised, Eren?” Mikasa rounded on him, his shoulders tensing defensively.

“Hey, I never knew his last name, okay?”

“So you’ve been dating him all this time and you didn’t even know his last name?”

“It’s not as if he knows mine!”

“Jaeger.”

“When did you find out?”

“You told me.”

“When?”

Levi shrugged.

“Okay, hold it.” Eren waved his hands, eyes darting from Mikasa to Levi, both staring back with their usual deadpan expressions. If it was true – if they were possibly related – well, Eren could see the uncanny resemblance, that was for sure. “So you two, you’re related?”

Mikasa and Levi studied each other, expressions unreadable. Three seconds ticked heavily by before they turned their heads away with a terse, “No.”

“As if I’m related to this gnome.”

“It must be a coincidence.”

Coincidence. That was what it had to be. That would mean Mikasa had some relations to the mafia if the name Ackerman had anything to do with it. Eren was pretty sure he’d know if his childhood best friend had ties to the mafia. There was no way, right?

Right?

Right! To think he even entertained the notion of Mikasa being involved in the mafia was laughable as it was. It was best to put aside such silly thoughts and not waste his time mulling over them. He had more important things to think of, like his essay and whether he wanted Mexican or Chinese food for dinner. Preferably Mexican. He could go for some Burrito Bell.

Ignorance was bliss.

“Oh, hey guys!”

Christa and Ymir stood there arm in arm, a pleasant smile across Christa’s lips. Eren nodded back, “Hey, Christa. You’re not an Ackerman, too, now are you? You don’t have some deep, dark family secret? Your family’s not a group of thugs, right?”

Okay, so maybe Eren wasn’t over it just yet.

“Wh-what ever are you saying, Eren?” Christa laughed nervously, an oomph blowing from her lips when Ymir elbowed her side.

“What am I saying?” Eren rubbed the back of his head with a short laugh. “Sorry. I must have lost it for a second there. My brain’s so fried from finals. As if you’d be in the mafia.”

Armin was the most confused of them all. “Who said anything about the mafia?”

Ignorance truly was bliss.

“Well, what can I get you ladies?”

That night, the Little Titan Café was closed during regular operation hours.

Sasha stumbled around blind folded in the center of the shop, tail in hand as she played Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Connie. Macho Man (Reiner, but Eren still preferred ‘Macho Man’) yelled directions from the sidelines – “To your left! Warmer, warme—no, now you’re getting cold!”

Connie wiggled his rump, jeering his best friend and coworker on, “C’mon, Sasha!”

Or, well, his soon to be ex-coworker. It was Connie and Sasha’s last day at the Little Titan Café so Carla decided to close the shop early for a going away party.

Speaking of the shop owner, she sat with her son at one of the tables, cheek in hand as she smiled fondly at the scene. “….It’s a little sad, isn’t it? But I’m happy for them. They’ll have better jobs now. They’ll be happier.”

“It’s also weird,” Eren said, watching as Sasha finally pinned the plastic tail to Connie’s rump. He gave a delighted laugh just as the others cheered. Sasha ripped off the blindfold and threw her arms around Connie’s neck, the latter lifting her up and spinning her around, planting a loud kiss against her cheek. They were both smiling so wide. So bright. Their happiness was real and infectious that even Eren couldn’t help but smile, “that they used to put bugs down each other’s shirts in elementary school, and now they’re engaged.”

“You guys are all finishing college, pretty soon you’ll be gone, too, and I won’t see you kids around the shop anymore.” Carla gave a long sigh.

“Oh mom, please. Not this again.”

“I can’t help but feel sappy.”

“I’m sure everyone will come by when they can.”

Customers always came and went. Some Carla never saw again, some came back after long periods of absence. Some were faceless and unmemorable while others frequented the café whenever they could. She could remember some, knew others’ names, had regular orders memorized to every little detail.

Employees were the same way. She remembered all of those she hired. Eren, Sasha and Connie had been there from the beginning; from the time they were sixteen and she opened up the shop for the first time.

And now they were leaving her and the Little Titan Café. But she didn’t dare believe they wouldn’tcome back. Because they would. Because they grew up in this town. Because they still had family and friends here, they still had a familiar place to return to, they still had this coffee shop for when there was no other place to go.

“Yeah,” Carla agreed.

(It was Bertholdt’s turn to play Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Connie. He ended up pinning it on Annie’s nose, much to his horror.)

“Those two look like they’re getting along.”

Eren looked at where his mother was staring. Marco and Jean were sitting at the table, exchanging lovey-dovey eyes. It was the only way to describe the way they stared, with hearts and infatuation clouding their vision, only seeing the other (although, to be fair, they occasionally acknowledged the spectacle that was Bertholdt sweating nervously beneath the stare of the short, blonde girl). He was glad how quickly the two clicked, that Jean was no longer hung up on Eren and the two could talk to each other like two normal guys who didn’t have any strings attached.

“Oh, yeah, they’re roommates now.”

Carla giggled. “Kids these days move so fast.” She turned her smile to Eren. “Which reminds me, I hope you and Levi are taking your time and if you’re at that point that you’re using protect—“

“M-Mom!”

Oh if only the earth could swallow him whole. Eren was positively mortified that she brought it up, but more mortified because they had been taking their time and whether they used protection or not wasn’t an issue when they hadn’t indulged in any activities that needed protection and somehow that was far more embarrassing to admit.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. They made out a lot. A lot a lot. And sometimes they went to third base, but never further than that.

But Eren wasn’t going to tell his mother that.

He sunk in his seat, red as a tomato. “Dad already gave me the talk, okay?”

“Just making sure!”

Don’t worry, mom. Your son hasn’t had sexual intercourse with his older boyfr. Friend. Man friend. Your son hasn’t had sexual intercourse with his man friend because he’s too cowardly.

Man friend wasn’t going to work. Boyfriend. There. Damn it.

Eren was too scared to have sex with his boyfriend because it’d been so long since he even did that with anyone, and what if he fell short of Levi’s expectations?

Was it ridiculous that a man like him was even worried about these things?

Probably. But their whole relationship had been slow to begin with. From the moment they met, from the moment Levi stepped into the shop, everything had moved fast and slow; had been born from a tiny flame that surged brighter and warmer with every little thing they learned about each other, with every little glance and touch.

The kiss came fast and then it was all they could do. It was all they wanted to do. From that winter, snowy night, it had burnt so good. It had left Eren feeling warm, had warmed him to the tips of his toes that curled in his shoes. These feelings that Levi made him feel always made his toes curl with anticipation, with happiness, with need and love.

Levi was always patient even despite the impatience that lurked beneath. He pushed, but never too far.

And something about that, something about knowing, about seeing the impatience and desire that Levi often kept in check made Eren nervous. It left his stomach twisted up inside with jittery butterflies.

Something about the way Levi held his gaze right then from across the shop had Eren’s heart hammering wildly in his chest. Everything was there in his eyes, all the days and weeks and months of holding back. All the ways he wanted Eren. All the ways he wanted to love Eren if he was open to it.

“I thought you were going to tell me about Rivaille,” Nile’s voice broke through Levi’s train of thought.

“Did I say that?” Erwin asked, stirring his iced coffee with a straw.

Nile’s expression was displeased. “Instead it looks as if we’re at some party. This is such a waste.”

“You need to relax every now and then, Nile. Always stressing about ‘Rivaille this’ and ‘Rivaille that’ has given you a lot of gray hair.”

“Should I dye my hair like you to hide those gray hairs?”

“I do not have any gray hairs,” Erwin said. “I am still too young for those.”

“We are the same age.”

“And yet you have gray hairs. See what stress does to you?”

Hanji had been busy going through her cellphone when she came across something that brought a grin to her face. She sniggered, “Oh, Levi~.”

When she sung his name like that, it left something distasteful in his mouth. Levi didn’t tear his gaze from Eren. He wanted the boy to squirm, to turn red until his whole body was flushed. “What, Hanji?”

“Hey, Erwin, remember this?”

Instead of showing Levi, Hanji waved her camera in front of Erwin and Nile. Nile’s skin paled dramatically, a mortified gasp escaping his lips. Erwin smiled. “Ah, yes. That reminds me, I have a similar picture of Eren.”

Levi’s attention snapped to them, suspicious. “What picture?”

The last thing he expected to see was a picture of Eren from the night the Little Titan Café had their maid special.

“What the hel—?”

“Come back soon, okay?”

Connie and Sasha did nothing to hide the glob of tears that clung to their eyes while hugging Carla. She smiled and held either of their heads in the way she was prone to embrace Eren, Mikasa and Armin.

“And take care. I am so happy for you both.”

Needless to say, their farewell wasn’t a tearless one, and by the time the party had ended and everyone went on their way, Eren had to give his mother a whole stack of napkins to dry her eyes with. Emotional women were always hard to handle for him.

“Somehow that was all surprisingly tolerable.”

Eren nodded in agreement. He watched Armin and Annie walk off to the parking lot, Armin sending a nervous smile at Eren as he left. He returned the smile with an encouraging thumbs up. Armin planned on asking Annie out. Eren could only hope it ended well.

The store was all locked up, the air was warm even at night and one of the streetlights flickered haphazardly. It was a surprise the bulb lasted as long as it had with its constant flickering.

“Thanks for staying, Levi.”

“I didn’t stay with innocent intentions.”

Eren licked his lips, glad he wasn’t facing Levi. Even his patience ran out, Eren knew that. He knew what was coming for the longest time and the thought made his knees wobble. “…You know, it’s not fair.”

He could almost see the quirk of Levi’s thin eyebrow.

“Here I am scared and nervous. I get so… so flustered around you. I can’t hide how red I get. I can’t stop how fast my heart beats. I can’t stay cool around you no matter what I do, and I don’t think that’s fair. Especially with how distracting you are, with your stupid arms – “ At that, Levi’s eyebrow inched higher, not that Eren could see, “—and how nice that shirt fits on you and how good you look in glasses and how much more mature you are than me and how obsessed I’ve been with you. For so long, you know? It’s not fair at all.”

“You think you’re the only one?”

“Eh?” Eren looked over his shoulder, wary and nervous. Levi sighed, gesturing for Eren to come closer. He did so without another thought.

“I’ve been obsessed, too,” Levi said, plain and simple, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world for him. He stared at Eren like it should be obvious because to him it was. There were so many words he wanted to tell Eren, so many things he wanted to show Eren, and for some reason it was hard for him to express them aloud. He was a writer, sure, but that didn’t mean he knew how to talk to people. He didn’t know how to tell Eren how beautiful he was in Levi’s eyes, how Levi had been entranced by him from day one, how none of his thoughts were pure and everything he felt was selfish. He could say things like you’re beautiful, but they weren’t enough. “I tell myself that I should be mature. But it’s hard and I don’t want to be anymore. I just want you, Eren. All of you.”

The way Eren lowered his lashes was too darn distracting.

“Do I need to say it, Eren? Do I need to say the L-word—“

Eren slapped both hands over Levi’s mouth, eyes wide and panicked. He looked ready to explode. “I don’t think I can handle that yet.”

Levi gently wrapped his fingers around Eren’s wrists.

“I want you, too, Levi,” he admitted, voice small.

Levi pried away Eren’s hands and kissed him, soft and sweet. He didn’t think it was possible to feel so excited and so relieved – how long had he been craving to hear those words? And now his heart was pounding so fast Levi was sure he was finally having a heart attack.

And there beneath the flickering light and starless sky, only Levi could hear Eren’s tiny intake of breath. Only he could see the brightness in viridians, could feel the way he trembled just the slightest bit; could hear his own heart loud and pulsing with excitement. Levi brushed his fingers across Eren’s jaw.

“Come home with me, Eren.”

“Okay,” Eren said. He melted against Levi, their faces touching, brown eyelashes fluttering against a pale cheek as he pressed closer. All of the walls were gone. “Okay.”

Six years later.

I never believed in happy endings; they were things made of fairy tales. They didn’t belong in a world where giants ate humans and people died every day in tragic ways. The only thing we could hope for was to survive.

I never believed I’d live to this day, either, to be perfectly honest. I thought I’d die at some point, but not so soon where I left things unaccomplished. I thought I’d fight the fight, annihilate the Eotens, just enough that humanity could gain the upper hand in this war – and then I’d die and my story would be over.

I didn’t believe in happy endings for myself because reality was much crueler.

And yet here I was. Here we were.

Free.

Levi removed his glasses and leaned back in his seat, scanning over the last few lines. This was it. There was still some editing to be done, probably a lot of tweaking and reworking that Hanji would make him do, but with this, with this fourth and final installment, his Attack on Eoten series was over.

It was a strange feeling – finishing a story. It left him feeling empty and accomplished all at once, like a huge part of his life was over.

But that didn’t matter. He’d still write more. There were still other stories to tell, other ideas he wanted to get down, more happy endings he thought he needed to share. Laughable, really. Levi writing happy endings. But mindsets changed and so did perspectives, and as Levi lifted his gaze to Eren sketching across from him, he thought happy endings were okay to write.

As if feeling Levi’s eyes on him, Eren looked up, sparkling eyes inquisitive and curious by nature. He tilted his head a bit and tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. Over the years Eren had cut and grown and cut his hair so many times. Today he looked as he did when Levi first saw him in the Little Titan Café: mop of brown hair, bright-eyed and young and beautiful.

“Did you finish it, Levi?”

“Hn.”

Eren set his sketchbook down as he perked up with excitement, “Can I read?”

“You can. Later.”

He pouted as he fiddled with the silver band on his left ring finger. It was a habit Eren developed. “Fine. Oh, that reminds me. We should probably get going. Mom’s expecting us for dinner.”

Levi nodded and shut his laptop closed, putting it and Eren’s sketchbook into his messenger bag. A childish voice squealed close by, followed by a twinkling, “Papa!”

“Ah, there you are,” Eren said, picking up the three year old boy.

Despite being adopted, Levi couldn’t help but think they looked alike, Eren and their child.

“Were you bugging Marco again?”

Marco was the manager of the Little Titan Café.

“No! …’es.”

Eren tweaked his nose with a playful smile. “Are you ready to go to grandma’s and grandpa’s?”

“’es!”

The green in his eyes wasn’t the same as Eren’s. But they were just as big and vibrant, and Levi could see Eren in the way the boy grinned, all teeth and excitement. Clinging to Eren’s shoulder with one arm, the child held out his other chubby hand, serious and impatient.

“Why just standing there, daddy? Le’s go.”

“Ah, yes.”

And as Levi held his tiny hand and left the shop with his little family, he thought happy endings weren’t so bad.

THE END. 

On 104^th Street, in-between Dazz’s Dazzling Magic Shop and Hannah & Franz’s Floral Arrangements, you’ll find a quaint little coffee shop called the Little Titan Café. Perhaps you’ll stop by on your way to work, or during your break, or after you finish up your last course of the day at Shiganshina University. Perhaps you’ll grab a cup of joe to go, or try one of our specials for the day.

You can always come to the Little Titan Café when you need an escape from reality. Have one of our brewed teas as you relax in one of our lounge chairs with a book. Enjoy a pastry or a chocolate mousse cheesecake while chatting with friends. Try one of our lattes, each with a lovely design made by our talented baristas.

Whether you’re here to relax or labor away over school work; whether you’re here for an escape or just somewhere to relax, our baristas will always greet you with a smile and a “Welcome to the Little Titan Café!”

So if you’re ever around the neighborhood again, drop us a visit!

Thank you for coming to the Little Titan Café!

We hope to see you again soon.

Chapter Text

Welcome to the Little Titan Café!

We are CLOSED.

“Come home with me, Eren.”

“Okay,” Eren said. He melted against Levi, their faces touching, brown eyelashes fluttering against a pale cheek as he pressed closer. All of the walls were gone. “Okay.”

One time, when Eren was twelve, he’d been skateboarding from school to home when he’d nearly collided into a dog. In his effort not to hit the dog, he careened sideways and ended up rolling down a hill. Thankfully, when he reached the bottom, all he had were a few scrapes and grass-stained jeans. 

He remembered laying there for a while, sprawled on his back while staring up at the cloudy blue sky, laughing despite the ache in his knees. In that moment, he wanted to draw. He wanted to find a crayon or maker or colored pencil the same shade of blue as the sky and color it on paper. So he did (of course when he did do so, it turned out looking like scribbles and white cotton candy, but his mom still had that drawing pinned to the refrigerator). 

It was a silly thing to recall considering the situation, but Eren thought about the falling and the tumbling and mused: this is kinda like that.

That was the thing about falling in love. It inspired you. 

Every time he saw Levi, Eren wanted to draw him. He wanted to sketch those thin eyes, shade in the gray pupils, outline the darkness of his eyelashes and capture the tiredness that seemed to always weigh on his features. He wanted to draw the tenderness beneath that jaded weariness; the slight softening whenever Levi looked at Eren.

Or how he normally looked at Eren. Right now it was different. A few times Eren caught Levi with this look, and every time it made Eren’s heart leap into his throat. It made his heart flutter, like now, as Levi settled a knee on the bed, a hand coming up to loosen his tie.

Levi’s movements were slow and deliberate, gaze hooded and calculative, as if debating the proper way to devour - all at once or in small servings? 

Eren’s fingers dug into the bed sheets, his attention momentarily distracted by pale fingers tugging down the knot of his tie. There was a faint trail of vein on the back of Levi’s palm that curled down to his forearm. “Levi…”

"Hm?" There was something unhurried about the way he hummed that, like he couldn’t hear the impatience in Eren’s voice.

Normally, Eren wouldn’t mind admiring the view. He’d put it to memory so he could later draw it. Any other day, any other time, but right now Eren couldn’t think about holding a pencil. He couldn’t think about much of anything beyond digging his nails into those thick, toned arms.

Those should be illegal. It just wasn’t fair how weak-kneed they made Eren, and Eren didn’t exactly go around getting all weak-kneed just for nothing. Or over anything. Except Levi’s arms. And apparently the simple act of Levi sliding his tie off made him weak. It was just too sensual (almost hard to believe that someone like Levi could look or be sensual, or teasing, for that matter. He still had way too many layers on).

How long had Eren been sitting there? 

They’d left the cafe. Rushed to Levi’s apartment without so much as touching or looking at each other. Eren headed to Levi’s room like a man on a mission: get clothes off, get to the bed, do things on the bed. His mission was simple, and yet, only Eren sat there clad in nothing but his briefs, legs tucked beneath him as he waited ever so (im)patiently for Levi to join him.

For a horrid moment, Eren thought he’d gotten the wrong impression when Levi asked him to come home with him. Because only Eren seemed to be in a rush to get to the good part, but then Levi looked at him like, well, like he’d been starving for a long time and this was his first real meal and boy was he going to savor every moment of it.

"You’re taking too long," Eren finally said, clearly irritated. He’d been chilly earlier, sitting there half naked, but his stomach coiled with a surging heat as Levi licked his lips. Eren was pretty sure Levi wasn’t even aware he did that.

"I apologize." He didn’t sound very sorry, either.

Green eyes rolled. “I’ll forgive you once your clothes are off.”

And then, of all the things for Levi to go and do, he smiled. His lips stretched, affection clear in the curl of the corners and damn if it didn’t make Eren feel loved.

He had to look away, otherwise he’d gape stupidly.

It scared Eren a little. Levi scared Eren a little, especially now because he was acting — or just seemed — different. And if Eren didn’t know Levi, he’d think the guy was high. His eyes were brighter, his expression more opened and relaxed. He looked younger and more alive and it had Eren feeling like he was riding a roller coaster, but it only went down, down, down, and that twisting feeling in his gut never went away.

"Are you suddenly getting shy on me, Eren?"

"Me? Shy? Never."

Eren Jaeger didn’t get shy. 

"I’m going to be your age by the time you get your clothes off, Levi.”

"What are you trying to imply?"

"I’m not trying to imply that you’re old. And slow."

"Old people have a harder time taking their clothes off."

"Maybe I should help you then. Don’t want you to throw out a hip or anything."

A growl. “Eren…”

He stifled a laugh with a fake yawn, lying down and rolling onto his side, “Gonna catch a quick nap. Wake me up when you’re ready.”

Eren knew he was pushing it, knew it from the moment the room got unnervingly quiet. His heart raced as the bed dipped from Levi’s weight and stuttered at the presence of someone looming over him. 

His voice was low and warning, “Don’t test me, Eren. Not right now.”

Not right now? What was that supposed to mean? Eren opened his eyes and turned his head with the intention of asking just that, only to have the words die on his tongue. For the first time, Eren could see that Levi was just as impatient as Eren, if not more so. He could see it in Levi’s eyes, he could feel it in the static that seemed to emit from him, he could see it in the way his muscles strained, arms caging Eren’s head between them. For the first time, Eren understood that Levi wasn’t the composed and patient man Eren thought him to be. 

If anything, Levi had always been holding back.

"Do you understand now?"

Eren’s mouth went dry. He never had anyone feel like this towards him; never had anyone want him so much for so long. Never had anyone have to restrain themselves for his sake. God, it excited him. Even as his image of Levi shattered, he was thrilled.

He rolled onto his back, cheek brushing against Levi’s wrist, Eren’s hands coming up to hold his face. It was like seeing a different person. It was like falling all over again. Eren smiled, all warm and inviting, and Levi felt his heart tighten. “I understand.”

Did he? Levi wondered as those warm hands slipped around the back of Levi’s neck; as fingers entwined in his hair and tugged his head down into a kiss.

Did he know what he did to Levi? That when they kissed, Levi was consumed with desire? Did he know of Levi’s fantasies, of pushing him down, of holding him down, of his need to wreck and monopolize every inch of his body?

Eren’s kiss was so gentle and loving it hurt. Because it didn’t match this wild one, it didn’t match them. It made Levi want more and more. And still, Eren tested him, coaxed him and drove him mad with a small, teasing dart of his tongue. 

Did this bright-eyed boy really understand what he did to Levi?

How many sleepless nights had there been because of him? How many words did Levi write for him — even now, there were words he wanted to write. He wanted to write about this creature beneath him, with his hair splayed against white sheets, soft in the dim light. He wanted to write about those burning green eyes — you know, the ones poets wrote odes to, that people were probably tired of hearing about but Levi never tired of describing them. About the dimples on his cheeks and the whiteness of his teeth when he smiled and the way he looked at Levi as he settled back into the mattress: coy and knowing.

 The words died away. This wasn’t the time for them.

Because Eren did understand, this coy brat. And it didn’t scare him off.

He’d probably never grasp the depth of Levi’s wants and needs, but not even Levi did, and that was fine. 

Everything after that became easier. Eren clung to him, took everything Levi gave him and they fell apart together. 

The sheets tangled beneath them. Eren’s legs wrapped around Levi’s waist, hands grasping his back. Eren’s face pressed to the mattress, nails digging into the arms that caged him, legs trembling as Levi moved— Eren called his name and Levi was undone.

He’d been undone for a long time; brought to his knees by this pretty-faced boy. Levi allowed himself a moment to stare at his face, to touch his cheek, drag a thumb across his lips as Eren fell asleep. Just a moment before Levi woke him up again, peppering kisses along his jaw and down his throat, moving down the length of Eren’s back and to his waist and hips, relishing in every sweet little sound that came.

The night passed by like a dream to Eren; like he was dreaming through a kaleidoscope while a series of things took place at different intervals but everything felt like it was happening all at once in a burst of bright colors. He could see himself in Levi’s eyes, could see himself in the reflection of the mirror across the room. Could see the way Levi held Eren’s jaw in place, purposely making him face the mirror; shivered as Levi murmured right into his ear, you’re beautiful.

Eren never really cared for those words, never cared for looks in general, but he wasn’t unhappy to hear them, either.

That was the thing about love: it inspired. It changed.

Levi woke up the next day to the smell of coffee. The promising smell of caffeine was enough to get him to sit up in bed, eyes barely open as a laugh registered through his muddled brain. 

"Good morning, Levi."

Good morning, indeed. If every morning meant waking up to Eren sitting on his bed, clad only in Levi’s shirt, then every morning really would be a good morning. He took the coffee offered to him, not minding the scalding heat as he took a sip, stifling a groan. Eren knew how to make good coffee. And to wake up to him like this? Damn it, marry me.

"Huh?"

It took Levi a moment to realize he said that out loud by the way Eren’s face turned beet red. He took another sip. “I don’t hear a ‘no.’”

"Well you’re not getting a ‘yes’ either," Eren retorted. He fiddled with the hem of Levi’s shirt, drawing his attention to tanned thighs. Suddenly his coffee was becoming less of an immediate concern. So distracted was he that Levi nearly didn’t hear, "…maybe if you ask properly…"

"I will. Someday," Levi promised, setting the mug down on the dresser next to the bed.

"Not unless I ask you first," Eren said, determined.

Heh. Cute. But Levi was more determined.

"Uh-huh," Levi mumbled, moving towards Eren.

Only when Eren was pushed down on his back did it dawn on him what was going on. “Levi? Hey, wait, hold it. H-hey! Damn it, Levi!”

Eren would have to make an extra cup of coffee for Levi later, because his would get cold. But for now he was distracted by Levi’s hands and Levi was distracted by Eren’s laughter.

He could grow to love mornings.