Archive of Our Own ^beta

Eren was living the fanboy dream. And it was killing him.

For a foreigner to be accepted into a Japanese animation studio was almost unheard of, and in the days and weeks that followed the original job offer (an offer preceded by years of practice and fanart and doujins and endless stalking on twitter) the young German had kept stopping to pinch himself and remind himself that it wasn't merely a fantasy that had gotten out of hand.

Life really couldn't get any better, he told himself as he dragged himself upright to the sound of his alarm for another long day of work.

He no longer got lost on the way to places, and he'd grown adept at navigating his way to work half asleep. As the newest and youngest employee of the studio, his jobs were the worst ones. He cleaned and fetched coffee and snacks, and stayed as late as he had to, and the pay really didn't cover much more than his living expenses. His days off were spent almost comatose in bed.

But it was worth it to see the anime take shape before his eyes. He loved his series; he'd been obsessed since the first manga had shown up, not least because the main character kind of looked like him, just a bit crazier, with gold rather than green eyes. He'd covered his walls with official art, and filled his portfolio with fanart. He lived and breathed it.

Well, right now he had no choice.

Now that Eren was living and working in his beloved adopted country, there was really only one other unsated obsession in his life: Levi.

Eren had started following Levi's twitter when he was just fifteen, partly because at least some of his tweets were in English, and Eren's Japanese was still fairly shaky at the time. He'd also followed him because he was an industry professional, and frankly hilarious. In English or Japanese he conversed with sly jokes and sarcasm and a disconcertingly scatological sense of humour. Eren learned a lot of Japanese words that weren't in his textbooks.

And then he'd posted a picture, and Eren's admiration had grown into something a little more complicated. Because he was gorgeous. In Eren's view he'd outshone the seiyuu he'd been standing next to, even though he wasn't smiling and she was. He was two inches shorter than the actress, with sharp features and cool grey eyes the intensity of which was not in any way masked by the designer glasses he wore. Since that time, his star had continued to rise, and Eren had nearly had a heart attack when he'd turned up to work and realised his idol was one of the senior animators on this project.

As was expected, Levi had ignored him almost entirely after the original introductions, at least until several weeks into the project. A meeting was being called regarding character design, and Eren, along with the other low-status employees were crammed in near the doors while the important people sat at he desk.

A colour picture of the main character was projected onto the white board. It was one of the first finished pictures Eren had seen and he gazed at it eagerly.

“The colour scheme is,” Hange waved their hand vaguely. “Not cohesive. His eyes look washed out in outdoor scenes. There's not enough contrast.”

Eren listened carefully as the discussion moved around the table. Levi didn't look up from his tablet, tapping the end of the stylus against the screen as he gave his opinions in a monotone.

Most of the other junior animators were merely spectating; they knew that to venture an opinion was an act of office politics that could easily backfire. Eren, however, had no clue.

“Why not make his eyes green?” he interjected eagerly. The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at him. Even Levi looked up. Eren plunged on, “Not the same shade as the uniforms, maybe slightly bluer. Uh.” He stopped when it finally dawned on him that he was speaking out of turn. “It was just a thought,” he mumbled as he realised everyone was probably thinking he was a loud mouthed foreigner who didn't know how to behave.

There were a few moments of awful silence.

“I think it's a good idea,” Levi said unexpectedly. He held up his tablet so the others at the table could see what he'd done. Eren caught a glimpse of the modified picture; Levi had given the protagonist green eyes.

After the meeting Eren had approached Levi and bowed very low.

“Thank you very much,” he said.

“It wasn't a shitty idea.” Even so, Eren suspected that Levi had come up with it before he'd spoken up and he knew Levi hadn't had to share credit for it if he hadn't wanted to. “Where did it come from?”

Eren straightened up. He hadn't expected Levi to make conversation; usually he headed out for a smoke first thing after a meeting.

“Well, um.” He tried to talk about colour theory as best he could, feeling the limits of his Japanese for the first time in a little while.

“Oh, what else?” Levi asked, taking his lighter out of his back pocket of his jeans. He looked almost...amused. “The real reason.”

“I have green eyes,” Eren mumbled.

“Thought so.” He actually smiled as he brushed past and Eren had to take a few moments to collect himself before going back to work.

And then they had no more time for meetings. Occasionally Eren's coffee runs coincided with Levi's smoke breaks, and he got thirty seconds on the stairwell alone with him, although all Levi did was nod thanks when Eren delivered his drink.

Despite the long hours, Eren still loved his work, and he got a special thrill whenever he got to work on the main character, with his new green eyes. The protagonist wasn't his favourite, however. That honour belonged to a different character; a stoic older warrior; there was nothing that needed fixing about his character design.

When he started showing up in the linework, several episodes in, Eren had to resist the urge to take it home with him and put it on his wall.

It was a harrowing plotline, even though Eren was expecting it, and he saw one of the animators start a wall of remembrance for dead characters, pinning their pictures to the corkboard as the body count rose. Work was so intense sometimes, Eren felt that he himself was living the storyline, frame by frame.

On his day off, he really needed to unwind. He opened all the windows in his tiny apartment, and took out his sketchbook. He wanted to draw something fun. He started with kittens and cute children playing, drawing whatever crossed his mind in fast, half-finished sketches, just loosening up.

Almost without thinking, he found himself drawing the familiar lines of his favourite character. No, happy things, he told himself fiercely. He swapped the uniform for jeans and a shirt, and put a coffee cup in his hand, a nice, safe, modern AU version. Almost on a whim, he added glasses, familiar designer frames.

And then he nearly dropped his pen. How had he not noticed before? He was a splitting image of Levi.

Once he'd seen it, he couldn't un-see it. All the fanart, all the doujins- oh god, the doujins- might well have been starring Levi himself. Eren buried his face in his hands and didn't know what to think.

This, he decided, was truly what 'feels' must be like. He'd never be able to look Levi in the eye again, surely. But he couldn't help himself; he crawled back to his computer and prepared to get re-acquainted with the fandom.

Because he shipped it. The protagonist and Levi's doppelganger. He'd shipped it so hard it hurt. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily given the effect on his sleeping patterns, he wasn't the only one. He wandered into work again on Monday morning practically a zombie, his head crammed with unlikely AUs and physics-defying smut. Of course, it would never happen; this wasn't that sort of series and the fans knew it. They were just having fun.

Eren felt a little sad about that, his clone had about as much chance as he did, and no amount of care and attention to the linework was ever going to change that. He couldn't exactly share his feelings either; he wouldn't be the only one to notice the similarities between drawings and reality. If nothing else, Levi himself would be bound to notice.

Levi noticed a lot. Despite the fact that he gave praise sparingly, he always kept an eye on the junior workers, and sent them home if they looked like they were taking on too much work. On the other hand, he was merciless with mistakes, and didn't tolerate the slightest sloppiness. The other animators weren't sure if they loved or hated him. Eren was sure, though. He found himself dreading the end of production, even though he was looking forward to taking a break, because it would mean the end of sharing an office with Levi and seeing him every day.

All good things had to come to an end, however. When production ended the studio threw a huge party. After weeks of living off bread and noodles, Eren wondered if he'd died and gone to heaven. They were all told to eat and drink as much as they liked, and Eren threw himself into both with gusto. He didn't know how many of these people he'd see again, and he spent the evening trying to get contact details and telling everyone how much he'd miss them.

By the early hours of the morning a good chunk of the employees had gone home, but Eren had nothing to do the next day and stayed on, drinking with the other juniors, none of whom had families waiting for them.

It was the time of the evening for loosened tongues and drunken confessions.

“I don't care if it was touching, it was filler!”

“I haven't read the manga.”

“You know when all that bread went missing before the eighteenth episode deadline? That was me. Ahh! I'm sorry.”

“What about you, Eren?”

“Huh?” Eren hadn't really been listening. He'd been staring at the bottom of his beer glass and realising he felt a bit depressed now it was all over.

“Share a secret with us! C'mon.”

Like what, he wondered. But before he could think of something diplomatic, it spilled out of him. “I ship it,” he said. “I ship it so hard.” Once he started he couldn't stop. What it was like feeling alone and out of your depth but having someone to look up to, someone to be an example, to teach you. Someone who inspired you to do better. Someone you could trust not to take advantage of you.

“They both seem so lonely,” he said.

The others stared at him when he finally stopped talking.

“You're such a fanboy, Eren. It's so cute!” Laughter kindled around the table, but Eren didn't join in. He turned away, looking for a spare space on the table to put his glass down, and his elbow nudged the person sitting on the other side of him.

“Sor-”

It was Levi. Shit. He hadn't been there five minutes ago, in fact, Eren had thought he'd gone home. He stared into Levi's eyes for a few moments.

“ExcusemeI'mgoingtobesick,” he said and got to his feet and staggered out.

The next morning his alarm went off as usual; he'd forgotten to turn it off, and he fought through his hangover to silence it. It was done. His contract had expired. He was free.

He had to start looking for a new job. He groaned and rolled over.

He'd start tomorrow.

The series was a hit. Wherever he went he saw posters and merchandise, and it didn't hurt to have it on his resume either, but competition for jobs was still fierce, and he watched his savings dwindle.

One evening he was sitting at home typing emails to his family and browsing the internet idly. He still followed Levi's twitter, although he'd been too busy to use it much recently. The studio had recently released some new pictures, one of which was Eren's OTP, and a fan was complimenting Levi on the picture.

It wasn't the sort of thing he normally responded to. It wasn't even a direct question. Nevertheless, he did.

There was a close bond of affection between them.

Wait, what? Eren read the tweet about three times before it really sunk in. Levi was probably getting deluged with messages, but Eren couldn't help sending his own.

Could you explain that a bit more? He messaged bravely and spent the next fifteen minutes regretting it and pointlessly refreshing his feed.

You grasp the characters well enough to know already, Eren.

Levi did know who he was after all, and had answered him privately. Eren's hands hovered over the keys.

Do you think they're lonely?

They won't admit it. The reply was almost instant. Levi had stopped tweeting publicly at this point.

I think the protagonist has to make the first move, Eren tweeted. He's bold.

The other character feels he's too old for him.

He isn't! Most definitely not! He's still very attractive. He has so many fans who agree.

Eren wondered if he'd overstepped his boundaries, when he waited a full five minutes for a response.

So, what would he say?

Sir, even though I am just a brat, I like you very much, and knowing you makes me very happy.

Is that it?

And I want to date you!

Eren held his breath and covered his mouth with his hands, his heart thudding in his chest.

I think he'd say yes. He'd ask when his next day off was and they could meet up and talk for a while.

Eren beamed. Yes! Exactly. Like Thursday?

Friday.

Okay.

He's weak to green eyes, you know?

I'll remember that.

The next morning the studio contacted him and asked if he was free to work on the OVAs. He probably deafened the poor office girl saying yes and headed in directly to get the paperwork signed, but as good news as it was, it didn't make his heart soar quite as much as when he arrived at the appointed place at the appointed hour and Levi was already waiting for him, oblivious to the crowd.

“I got a job!” Eren said as he bounced up to Levi. Levi was wearing the exact same sort of clothes he wore at work; dark jeans and a neat shirt, and Eren wondered why he'd expected different. “We'll be working together again.” He bowed slightly. “Please look after me.”

“Hm. Congratulations.” Levi didn't look all that surprised, now Eren thought about it.

“Should I be thanking you?” Eren asked.

“No. I simply reminded them how hard you worked last time.” Levi clearly didn't want to talk about it. “Where are we going?”

“Oh well, there's this cafe.” Eren hadn't actually been sure Levi was going to show up; he might have thought they were joking. Not joking. So this was a date, of sorts.

Eren had been following Levi's twitter for so long, there was a lot he already knew about him, but he found he had endless questions. Levi sipped coffee and lounged back in his chair, legs crossed, and answered them with good humour. He even asked some of his own, mostly about Eren's life back in Germany.

The afternoon just flew by, and by the time the evening crowds of people going home from work filled up the streets, Eren realised this had felt more like a networking session than a date. Not that he was complaining entirely; he felt like he should have been taking notes as Levi spoke candidly about the industry and his time in it.

He was sad it was over, however.

“Let's get some dinner,” Levi suggested.

“Um. Sure.” Eren was torn between delight and panic. He really hadn't budgeted for that.

Levi looked at him, clearly aware of his distress, “I'll pay. I still remember what it was like at your pay level, you know.”

“I eat a lot of ramen,” Eren confessed.

“How about sushi then?” Levi suggested. “To celebrate your new job.”

“Really? Thank you so much.”

Levi took him to a little sushi bar, somewhere off the main street. The chef seemed to know him, and greeted him like an old friend. Eren realised he was ridiculously happy; this had been the best day of his life, he decided.

“What are your plans for the future?” Levi asked sometime later as they lounged against the bar, their hunger sated.

“I don't know,” Eren said. “Part of me wants to stick it out in Japan; I'm so lucky I managed to make it this far, I feel like it would disappoint a lot of people if I just went home.” He smiled, “I get fanmail you know? Asking me how I did it. I try and be encouraging, but I think it was mostly luck.”

“Do you want to go home?” Levi asked.

“No! I love it here. But it's hard, sometimes. I miss Germany, and I miss my friends and family. And you know, from a career perspective, I could bring so much back, I'd probably have it easier if I went home. If I stay here, I might not be able to progress.”

“It will be hard for you,” Levi said. “It's not a kind industry. There's always someone with more energy and talent.”

“Not compared to you, surely,” Eren said.

Levi smiled faintly. “You'd be surprised. What do you want to do creatively?”

“I want.” Eren lifted his head and thought about it. “I want control. I want a say in things. I don't know that I'm a good enough artist to actually make my own stuff though.”

“Hm. I'd have to see your portfolio to judge that.”

“You'd do that? I mean if you want to. That would be really, um, good of you. If you like.” Was he really going to get portfolio advice from Levi?

Levi glanced at his watch. “Why not? It's not very late.”

And then all thoughts of his portfolio were pushed aside by one other; had Levi just invited himself into his apartment?

Maybe he was overthinking it, he overthought, as they took an almost-empty train back to Eren's district. Levi hadn't actually said this was a date, and other than paying for dinner he hadn't done anything date-like. Eren was just glad that, even if he had got it wrong, he hadn't made a fool of himself by letting Levi know.

“I'm really sorry it's such a mess. I really-” Wasn't expecting to bring anyone home.

He thought about asking Levi to wait while he tidied up, but the truth was there wasn't a lot he could do. Other than a minuscule bathroom, he lived in one room and it was crammed full of stuff. His only piece of furniture, and his biggest purchase since arriving in the country, was a futon that folded up into a low couch during the day so he could work at his computer.

Levi toed off his shoes and looked around at the posters and drawings on the walls.

Eren flushed, suddenly self-concious. “I guess I'm just a fanboy at heart,” he muttered.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Levi smiled. “My room looked the same, once.”

“Huh.” Eren stood awkwardly for a few moments and then remembered why he was here. “Oh, I'll get my portfolio open. Would you like some tea?”

Levi said that he would, and he sat on the couch and started going through Eren's work. Eren was glad to distract himself with the kettle and cups while Levi looked; having his idol in his room and sitting on his bed- okay, it was a couch right now- and worst of all looking at his art made him want to make himself small enough to crawl into power-point socket and hide. His stomach felt all quivery.

Eventually the tea was ready and he was obliged to set it down on the low table next to his mac and perch on the couch. Levi hadn't said anything the entire time, other than to thank him for the tea. He seemed to be taking it seriously though; spending some time on each piece.

Eren stared into his tea.

“You are very talented,” Levi said eventually. “Your portfolio is too big, however. There are older, weaker pieces you should take out. Also, your style is quite Japanese, but you don't need to make it perfectly so; if you try too hard it comes across as flat. You will never succeed by pretending to be Japanese. It makes it more difficult, but it could work in your favour too.”

He closed the window, and the half-finished piece that Eren had been working on underneath was revealed. It was a doujin based on the manga; he'd gotten a dozen pages in and given up, the last page still only roughly sketched.

“Ah, that's not finished-” Eren said.

“I can see that. Can I read?” Levi glanced at him.

“Um, sure.” Eren went back to his tea while Levi scrolled up. It wasn't anything he was embarrassed by; the doujin was sad rather than explicit.

He'd written the protagonist reincarnating in the future with all his memories, but only he remembered what he'd been through. Isolated, he meets people from his past life, but they remain strangers to him; they don't recognise him at all. At last he meets his mentor, the one who supported him until the end, who died protecting him. And their eyes meet, and the protagonist starts to cry- and his mentor walks on, just another face in the crowd.

“Eren,” Levi said quietly. “Are you all right? There's a lot of feeling in this.”

“I- yeah. I was feeling down I guess. I was looking for work and feeling homesick and wondering if I should just give up, you know?” He smiled, “But I don't feel like that now. I'm really looking forward to starting work on the OVAs. Things have improved since I drew that, a whole lot actually.”

“Well, it's not finished yet,” Levi said, looking at the screen. “You could change the ending.”

“How?”

“Even if he doesn't remember him, he wouldn't just walk past someone crying like that. May I?” he pointed at Eren's tablet.

“Yeah! Please.” Eren edged closer, delighted to get the opportunity to watch. Levi adjusted the settings slightly and started sketching, Eren peering over his shoulder as he worked.

“So he stops and asks him what's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that, he asks.”

“And he replies,” Eren added. “You remind me of someone I knew once. He's happy that he's even talking to him.”

“Here, you draw that.” Levi handed the tablet over.

When he handed it back, Levi said, “He asks him if he wants to talk about it. And they get coffee.”

“And he tells him everything, but does he believe him?”

They were crammed up against each other now, looking at the screen, swapping the tablet back and forth between them, mapping the story out in fast, light sketches.

“He doesn't think he's lying, even if he doesn't believe him. He suggests he tells his story to the world.”

“And he's happy that even if he doesn't remember he's still the same person he knew back then.”

“And then his senpai buys him ice cream-” Levi was laughing.

“No! He kisses him! He kisses-”

Levi kissed him.

Eren's heart fluttered in his chest and before he could recover from his shock it was over. Levi looked at him, questioning, his breath warm on Eren's lips. Eren wasn't sure how he managed to be so calm, but he carefully put the tablet on the floor out of the way, mostly by touch because he couldn't bear to look away, and then he closed the gap between them again.

The first kiss was a question, the second one was an answer. Eren wrapped his arms around Levi's shoulders and he felt rather than saw Levi take his glasses off because his eyes were shut. He heard him put them down on the table with a soft clunk.

Levi tasted like tea and he smelled like smoke, but only faintly; he hadn't smoked all afternoon, Eren realised, and he wondered if this was why. Didn't care. Eren didn't think there was any force on earth that could make him not want to kiss Levi and keep kissing him.

Except for the overwhelming desire to get his clothes off him. Eren fell back along the couch, and Levi didn't need to be pulled with him; he crawled on top and the warm, solid weight of him pressing Eren into his futon had his dick lengthening in his pants and his fingers plucking impatiently at Levi's shirt.

Levi rested his forearms either side of Eren's head and pressed thorough, almost bruising kisses down the side of his neck. Eren wasn't so precise; he went for anything in reach, he nipped and worried at Levi's ear, and dragged his lips across his cheek whenever Levi raised his head enough.

And then Levi found a spot just below Eren's ear that seemed to connect directly to his spine and Eren gasped, “Ah, ja, das ist-”

Levi lifted his head, and looked at him with eyes gleaming with mischief. “What was that?” he asked.

“Um,” Eren panted. “German?”

“I like it,” he said.

“Hang on,” Eren said, suspecting whatever Levi was going to try next would make him forget all his Japanese. “We should put fold the couch back first. More room.”

“We probably shouldn't move too fast tonight anyway,” Levi said, it seemed to take a bit of effort.

Oh hell no. Now was not the time to be a gentleman, Eren thought. Once they got back to work they'd be so busy, who knew when they'd get another chance like this.

“But if you stop now,” Eren panted, rolling his hips up against Levi, who definitely felt that because Eren could see his eyelids flutter slightly. “I'll be so frustrated at work that I might trip in the supply closet and accidentally fall onto your dick.” Eren bit his lip and grinned; he wasn't normally so shameless, but it was worth it to see Levi's look of shock.

“Who taught you such filthy Japanese?” he asked.

“I think it was you, senpai,” Eren said coyly. “I'm not even sure what some of the words on your twitter mean.”

“You little shit,” Levi said, clearly trying not to smile. “That does it, I'm going home.” He said this, but he didn't move a muscle, still stretched out on top of Eren's body.

“No you're not,” Eren said.

“Why not? You think a little brat like you can stop me?”

“No. Because, Ich will dich glücklich machen.“

Levi exhaled raggedly, “What does that mean?”

“Stay and find out. Oder lass es. Aber du wirst etwas verpass-” Eren was cut off by Levi clasping his face in both hands and practically attacking his mouth. He licked and bit and sucked and Eren could hear him breathing heavily through his nose, and feel his leg pressing against his groin.

“Everything you say sounds so filthy,” Levi muttered.

“'S not,” Eren muttered. His lips tingled; they felt abused and swollen.

“I know,” he growled. “Somehow that makes it worse. Better. Whatever.”

This time when Eren tugged at Levi's shirt, Levi wriggled out of it, and Eren found himself reverting to reverent German when he saw Levi's pale, muscled torso. He wondered where the hell he found the time to work out, but mostly he just gave thanks that he was privy to this sight. Levi let him look for a few moments and then told Eren to take his off as well, and Eren didn't stop with his shirt, unbuckling his belt with shaking fingers and wriggling out of his jeans while trying not to kick Levi in the face as he did so.

“Take them off,” Eren begged, tugging at Levi's belt as he knelt between his legs. “Schnell!”

“Say please.”

“Bitte,” he breathed.

Eren wasn't quite sure who was ordering whom around and he didn't care because Levi was taking everything off, and they fell back onto the couch skin to skin and he was having trouble breathing and talking at the same time, but he didn't stop because now he could feel how his words went straight to Levi's dick which was pressed against his stomach tantalisingly close to his own.

He slid his hands down Levi's sides and grabbed his arse, feeling the muscles flex as he moved with every sentence. Eren didn't know what he was saying, he was babbling in a mixture of German and Japanese and then Levi sucked his stomach in and slid a hand between them and when Eren felt his fingers on his cock he forgot how to talk entirely. He could hear a needy, whining sound and he realised that it was coming from his own mouth.

Levi pressed them together and started moving his hand, and his lips found that spot under Eren's ear again that he was definitely going to try and find himself next time he was alone, because the noise he made took himself by surprise and he suspected his fingernails were going to leave little crescent marks in Levi's arse and that was a delightful thought.

It was also the last coherent thought Eren had, because Levi was breathing his name into his ear and his voice was completely torn with lust and it was better than all the fanfics and doujins Eren had ever read. Levi wasn't his doppelganger; he laughed more, he talked more, he was free to embrace his younger lover.

And he was pretty sure the stream of fuck shit fuck Eren like that fuck yes that he was pouring into his ear would never make it past the editors. And then Levi went almost completely silent and Eren filled the silence with his own garbled shout as he bucked his hips up, Levi's knuckles digging almost painfully into his stomach and his hipbone jarred against his leg and he came hard enough that the world seemed to recede, sounds fading in his ears as he flung his head back against the couch.

Levi spoke first. They spent a few minutes just breathing and then, “You're gorgeous. I'm going to assign you to Hange.”

“What?” Eren lifted his head.

“You're not going to get any work done otherwise. You'll mess up a line and you'll swear in German and I'll hear you and accidentally drag you into the supply closet and suck you off until you forget your own name and everyone on the floor has heard mine.”

Eren drew breath to speak, but he honestly didn't know what to say.

“You'll still bring me coffee, however,” Levi allowed. “Back stairwell, 10:25 exactly. I won't smoke until after you've dropped it off, so don't be late.”

Eren vowed to never miss a day.

Eren ended up spending most of the weekend at Levi's apartment, revelling in the luxury of sheer space. Even though Levi's apartment was small by German standards, after his own cramped abode it felt like a palace.

Not to mention, Levi treated him like a prince.

They went back to work to start putting together the OVAs. Eren was now no longer the newest employee, and his work diversified a bit, but he was still almost everyone's junior. Despite the fact that he and Levi behaved perfectly professionally at the office, the fact that he was so at ease with the senior animator caused his stock to rise somewhat, and his time was far less lonely than it had been. No longer just a foreign novelty, he found himself starting to make real connections with his colleagues.

He was back doing what he loved, but his favourite time of the day was 10:25 am, when he'd return from his routine coffee run. He'd deliver the coffee to everyone, saving for last a cup which he'd deliver to the back stairwell. Levi would always be waiting for him, his lighter in his hand, but he wouldn't use it just yet. Instead, when Eren handed over the drink, he'd lean up a press a kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, Eren,” he say and Eren would nod and go back inside. Thirty seconds. His favourite part of the day.

Of course there were days off and weekends, and occasionally evenings out. Eren knew Levi was treating him because he'd experienced for himself the kind of lifestyle he led the rest of the time. But as the deadlines approached, these outings became fewer and further between, and Eren treasured his thirty seconds even more.

The series continued to do amazingly well, and a lot merchandise found its way into the animation office and quite a bit made it from there into Eren's bedroom.

One day, Eren was taking a brief break and getting a bottle of water from the vending machines when he heard two of the other animators whispering behind him.

“He looks just like him. Go on, ask him.”

“Hey Eren.”

“Hm?” He wasn't sure about this.

“Come here, look what we got.” They clustered around him, and thrust a plastic covered package into his arms. Clothes?

“It's a costume, we finally found one that's probably your size.” Half the staff had uniform jackets, but most of the ones that had arrived were far too small for Eren. “Try it on, go on.”

“What? Now? All of it?” He'd have to go to the bathroom and change.

“Hange liked the idea.”

Hange liked lots of things. Still, it looked like they'd gone out of their way to get an outfit specially for him, and if he was honest he'd been planning on ordering one online for himself anyway, once he had the money saved.

“Okay, okay. Hang on.” He grinned, rather touched.

He didn't have the right boots, and after two minutes of struggling with the harness he decided he didn't have time to work it out, so he put on the shirt and trousers and jacket, and peered at himself in the bathroom mirror, trying to comb his hair with his fingers into the right style.

Not bad, he thought. He wondered idly what Levi would make of it; he usually didn't approve of time-wasting activities during work hours and he'd remind them that they'd regret it as the deadline approached.

He found out what Levi thought when he left the bathroom, as he nearly walked into the man himself. Levi's eyes widened when he caught a glimpse of him. Eren had an apology ready but it died on his lips when he saw Levi's next expression. It wasn't one he ever wore at work, and it usually preceded the swift removal of clothes; his eyes had gone dark and his mouth gained a hungry little smile that sent the blood rushing to Eren's cheeks and his groin.

But he didn't say a word. His gaze dropped and he stepped past Eren, leaving the young German catching his breath and trying to arrange his face before he revealed his costume to his other co-workers.

Levi didn't get a chance to comment on it. It was the last time they had free before the deadlines really started to crowd close. Eren would take the train home in an exhausted daze and it was all he could do to keep himself fed and at least one set of clothes clean. In fact, by the time the production party rolled around, he'd all but forgotten the incident.

He knew he wouldn't be going home with Levi that night. Levi had obligations; people to talk to, networking to do and as he'd told Eren more than once, Eren had plenty to do as well. It looked like he'd have an easier time finding his next job, but he couldn't afford to get complacent.

After drinking far more in a night than he had in the past three months, Eren slept in until noon and woke up feeling rather unspectacular. He felt a whole lot better when he saw Levi had sent him a text.

Free tonight, I trust?

He couldn't type yes fast enough, although it had been nearly two hours since Levi had sent the message. He had plenty of time to do his washing, tidy up his by now rather disgusting apartment (Levi tolerated a certain amount of clutter from Eren, but not dirt,) and restock his groceries before heading over.

He was halfway through sorting his rubbish when his phone buzzed.

If you've still got that uniform, wear it.

Wait what?

On the train? Eren texted back. It wasn't like it was totally outlandish but surely it would look a little odd-

You've never cosplayed before? Levi asked.

Eren's eyes widened. You have? Oh please god let there be pictures.

Levi didn't answer directly. Wear it or not, please yourself. He sounded slightly irritated or maybe, Eren thought, embarrassed? He remembered that look Levi had given him when he'd seen Eren in costume, and he swallowed hard. Tonight couldn't arrive soon enough.

I'll wear it.

Any number of odd looks on the train would be worth seeing that expression on Levi's face again. Despite all the things he had to do, the afternoon dragged terribly for Eren. Long before it was time to leave he wrestled on the harness and ended up sitting on his futon watching the clock and feeling rather foolish. He still didn't have the right boots, but otherwise the outfit was pretty much perfect.

By six he was on the train, heading towards the towering apartment building where Levi lived. He did get a few odd looks, but it wasn't that bad, and as a foreigner with startling green eyes he was rather used to getting a bit of attention wherever he went.

He hit the button on the intercom and Levi told him to come up.

“Door's open.”

Eren stepped cautiously into Levi's apartment, half expecting to be pounced on where he stood, but in fact Levi wasn't there at all. The bathroom door was shut.

Eren sighed at his own bad timing, and took his shoes off before walking over to the couch and sprawling on it, legs and arms spread.

It was only a change in light that alerted him to the fact that the bathroom door had opened. Eren scrambled to his feet, and stared.

“Pain the arse to draw, and a pain in the arse to wear,” Levi muttered.

If someone had told him they'd managed to bring fictional characters into the real world he might almost have believed it. Levi was perfect. From the knee-high boots to the leather straps that wrapped around his snug white trousers, to the crisp jacket that didn't quite close across his chest and the spotless cravat that somehow didn't look as silly as Eren had imagined it might.

“Mein Gott,” Eren breathed, and normally the German would have Levi stalking over to him, pushing him back against the couch and punishing his 'filthy' mouth the way he liked best, but this time he just stood there, arms folded.

“What did you say, soldier?” he asked, the corner of his mouth curling, just a bit, even as the rest of his face remained expressionless.

Eren got it now, why Levi had looked at him like that. Because he loved this character, and could feel himself falling ever further for the man wearing his clothes as well. Eren's heart was pounding and his palms felt sweaty; he didn't want to disappoint him – either of him.

So he managed not to turn to mush and break character and ask for photographs, instead he stiffened his spine and saluted. If Levi was going to roleplay for him, he least he could do was try and return the favour.

“Nothing, Sir!”

“Thought not.”

Silence descended, and Eren wondered what to say next. They weren't working from a script here, after all. But Eren had scripts. Thousands of them. Ones he'd written himself, one's he'd read in fanfictions and doujins and headcanons that others had shared.

So he stepped forward, trusting that Levi wouldn't laugh at him, would go with it.

“We're going outside the walls tomorrow, aren't we?”

“Mm.” Levi nodded, and Eren could see he was curious as to where this was going.

“Before we leave, I just wanted to say, um.” Oh god was he blushing? Confessing was much more difficult than it looked. “Please don't die.”

“What?”

It wasn't how Eren intended this to go, but if he was being honest this would be what he'd say if he ever met him.

“I just get scared sometimes.” Every month, when the next chapter came out. “That you'll go out there and you won't come back and I won't be able to protect you. If you die, I don't know what I'll do.” Crap, at this rate he was actually going to get teary.

“Oi,” Levi said softly. He walked over and cupped Eren's cheek. “Don't cry for me, brat.”

“Sorry, Sir. I can't help it.”

“I know. But I won't die so easily.” He hadn't moved his hand, and now his thumb moved to the corner of Eren's mouth.

“Sir?” Eren choked out. Levi was looking at him in that way again, and without the distraction of the office it was going straight to his heart rate.

“All we can do.” Levi gazed into his eyes. “Is try and live without regrets, right?”

Eren wanted him so much he could barely breathe. This silly game of dress-up was going to make his heart explode, he was sure of it. What was it he'd tweeted to Levi those few months ago?

“Sir, even though I am a brat,” he began, and he saw Levi's expression soften as he recognised the words, as swiftly and clumsily crafted as they were. “I like you very much, and knowing you makes me very happy.”

“Is that it?” Levi asked.

“And I want to kiss you. I won't regret it, I swear,” Eren improvised. He bent his head and Levi didn't move away, letting him press his mouth against his lips. This was what they had then, Eren realised, a thousand ways they could confess, a million first kisses, for however long they wanted to play.

Levi tilted his head slightly and his other hand threaded through Eren's hair, pulling him closer. Eren heard the faint squeak of leather as they embraced, deepening the kiss. Eren skimmed his hands down Levi's sides, curling his fingers underneath the straps of the harness.

“This uniform looks so fucking good on you,” he breathed, uncertain if he was in-character or not and not really caring. His erection had flagged a bit under the pressure of improvised theatre, but now it was back with a vengeance, and he could feel Levi was in a similar state through the material of those painfully tight white trousers.

“Mh. You should talk,” Levi purred between bites at Eren's lips. “It takes for fucking ever to put them on and as soon as I do I just want to peel them off and have my way with on you the floor where you stand.” He pressed his palm against Eren's crotch and Eren shuddered and rolled his hips against his hand.

Levi reached up to start undoing his cravat but Eren caught his hand.

“No, stop. Leave it all on.” He disentangled himself from Levi's arms. “I'll be back, okay? Just wait there. Or sit or something.” He was feeling brave and silly and practically drunk on lust, but every time he'd stepped out of his comfort zone Levi had been there to catch him. Time to take a leap.

“All right, brat.” Levi was back in character again. It did something to his voice that did something to Eren's spine. He sat down on the couch. “I'll wait.”

Eren grinned. “Thank you, sir.”

He hurried off to Levi's bedroom and the first thing he did when he was out of sight was unbuckle his belt and free his aching cock with a gasp of relief. The rest of his clothes followed, and he retrieved condoms and lube from Levi's bedside table.

Frankly, he'd been a bit scared of anal sex at first, and although Levi's patience and charisma had conquered his fear it wasn't something they indulged in often. Tonight, however, he wanted it bad; he'd spent too many hours fantasising about his favourite character to want anything less now that he was actually there and waiting for him. Not to mention, the protagonist wouldn't be afraid. He'd do anything for his mentor.

Eren started putting on the harness again, this time without the clothes. The buckles nipped him and the leather stuck to his skin. He cursed in German under his breath as he nearly dislocated his shoulder trying to get into it. This clearly wasn't what it was designed for, which was just stupid because it was a pretty obvious use. He chased himself around in a circle trying to catch a trailing strap and tripped over the end of the bed. At least he fell onto the bed rather than the floor.

“Are you all right?” He heard Levi call.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

“Do you want any help?”

“No!” Goddamn it. Faster. It was catching the hairs on his legs now, but he managed to sort of get into it and even if the straps at the back weren't quite going the way they were supposed to he pulled the jacket on on top and it looked okay. If he had the boots it would be perfect.

He paused and looked at himself in the mirror, arranging his hair again. He couldn't quite believe what he was doing; the stranger- no, not a stranger, a very familiar character- staring back at him from the glass looked, well, wanton. Hiding nothing; not the look in his eyes or the swelling of his lips or the cock heavy between his legs. As Eren watched himself he saw a bead of precum overflow the edge of his foreskin and he scraped his bottom lip with his teeth. This would make for an intense evening even if he was alone, he realised.

But he wasn't. Something far better than his own reflection was waiting for him. He grabbed the supplies off the bed, straightened his jacket one last time and took a deep breath before walking back into the living room.

He had no idea if Levi had been getting bored or not, because the instant he caught a glimpse of Eren, he was one hundred percent clearly not bored. His jaw dropped slightly and his look was so intense Eren's steps nearly faltered as he approached. He could feel his cock bobbing with every step he took, but Levi didn't seem to find it amusing at all.

“Holy shit,” Levi breathed and he leaned forward as Eren came to a halt in front of him.

“I was thinking,” Eren said trying desperately to remember the lines he'd come up with. It was really hard to remember anything with Levi looked at him like that, like it was taking all his willpower to not to devour him. “If one of us dies tomorrow, I would regret so much. So for tonight, Sir, please, I want you to have all of me.” God damn this was corny. Next time he was going to ask for some warning so he could think up some better lines. “If...if you want me that is.”

Levi was speechless. Eren could see him trying to kick his brain into gear and come up with a response.

“You asked for this,” he growled eventually. “Because I will have all of you.” He reached out and pulled Eren closer and Eren knelt on the couch, straddling his lap. Levi traced the leather straps across his thighs with his fingers while he tongued and bit at Eren's stomach, making him gasp and laugh.

And then he wrapped his lips around the head of Eren's cock and sucked and Eren shouted and nearly came then and there.

“Nien, nein, nein,” he breathed wretchedly, squirming in Levi's grip. He remembered he was still gripping the strip of condoms and the lube and he practically shoved them in Levi's face. “I know it's not canon,” he gasped and Levi laughed, an explosive bark of surprise and Eren felt him butt his head affectionately against his hip as he fumbled with the cap on the tube, having finally managed to prise his hands away from Eren's harness and the skin beneath it.

Eren braced himself, resting his hands on Levi's shoulders; this was usually the difficult bit.

But he didn't need to make himself relax this time. Almost as soon as he felt Levi's slick fingers curling into him he rolled his hips, pushing down against them.

“More,” he breathed. “Please.” He wasn't sure what he'd done to himself, part of his mind was broken, surely, every switch in his head flipped to please fuck me. He panted and moaned and dug his fingers into the material of Levi's jacket as he ground himself down on his hand. He didn't care what he sounded like, he didn't care if he accidentally put Levi's eye out with his cock (yes he'd care) he just wanted more. “Sir!” he gasped as Levi worked his fingers just right.

And then he whined as Levi took his hands away. He waited, trembling, and he shifted back a bit so Levi had enough room to unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers; Eren wasn't sure how he'd endured them for so long. Levi was still otherwise fully dressed when he eased his cock out and that just made it look even more impressive. Eren waited in an agony of impatience as his lover rolled on the condom.

“Okay, come on,” Levi said eventually. He held himself still with one hand and let Eren slid himself down onto his cock at his own pace.

“Ffffffuh.” Eren's head rolled back. The harness was catching on his legs again as he spread his legs wider, but the sting was nothing compared to the glorious ache of Levi breaching him.

“Good boy,” Levi said. “Good boy. Open your eyes.”

Eren did as he was told, although it was an effort, and the expression Levi had given his favourite character was one he'd spend hours trying to recapture on paper later, lust, affection, surprise, delight.

“Are you okay?” Levi asked as Eren settled onto his lap.

“Mm. Yeah.” Eren curled down and kissed him, and they stayed like that for a few moments while Eren adjusted and tried to claw back some ground from the ever more imperative desire to come.

He didn't think Levi would be able to hold off for long either, judging by the way Eren could feel his muscles moving under his clothes, tensing and relaxing with his deep, uneven breathing.

Eren started to move, rocking his hips, the end of his cock catching on Levi's white shirt until Levi wrapped his hand around it, and started stroking it the way he liked so much. It was enough to make Eren come apart. He forgot how to kiss, instead sort of mashing his open, gasping mouth against Levi's, his hands fisted in Levi's hair. He lost all coordination in everything but his hips; that was a rhythm he wouldn't change for worlds as it took him higher. Levi bucked beneath him, one hand on his cock the other digging into his hip. However long they managed to last, Levi came first and hearing his voice twist like that and seeing his face through eyes almost slitted shut and feeling his cock swell and pulse was enough to have Eren seeing stars as he jetted warm, sticky come into Levi's hand and onto his shirt moments later.

“Sir,” Eren rasped eventually. His throat was dry. He hugged Levi and buried his face in the crook of his neck. “I love you.” He didn't know if he was acting or not.

“Yeah, me too,” Levi said, reaching up and ruffling his hair with his clean hand. Eren didn't know if he was acting or not. They separated themselves and Eren slid onto the floor, feeling boneless.

“I need to wash this shirt already,” Levi observed with an unimpressed expression.

“Wear the uniform without the shirt,” Eren suggested slyly.

“Will you be able to keep your hands to yourself while I make dinner if I do?” Levi raised an eyebrow.

“Let's find out.”

So they did.