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Levi grabs Zeke by the hairs of his crown, pulling on the man's scalp and tugging harshly. The sharp shout that erupts from the blonde's throat is both gratifying and grating to his ears, as he continues to drag Zeke along by his locks. There are a few scouts that eye them both, but otherwise say nothing. They trust their Captain, but a part of Levi really thinks they shouldn’t.
Zeke's whisper rings in his ears, taunting him louder than the protests behind him. Only when they're far enough from camp does Levi hurl his prisoner in front of him, silently enjoying the way Zeke slams into one of the massive tree trucks and then collapses onto the ground. His glasses slip off his face and fall into the mud. As Zeke hacks in air, he rubs his sore head with his tied hands, shakily getting onto his feet in a kneel.
Levi doesn't give him the chance to stand and slams his foot into his face. It sends him against the tree, then has him falling face-down into the dirt. After feeling the crack of something beneath his boot, Levi isn't surprised to see the faint steam emitting from Zeke's head. Still, he can't get the monkey's words out of his head. It has Levi's heart bursting out of his chest, his palms turning sweaty just from humouring the possibility of Zeke's profession.
“The wine is spiked with my spinal fluid,” Zeke admitted to his face, his smirk putting a foul taste in Levi's mouth, “All I have to do is give the signal, and every one of your comrades will turn.”
“You're lying,” Levi finally replies, shoving his heel onto the back of Zeke's neck and keeping him down, “You said you use gas.”
Following a few strained coughs, Zeke laughs. It's a disgusting sound, and when Levi pulls one of his blades out he presses it to the side of Zeke's throat. The sliver of blood that shows itself doesn't satisfy Levi in the slightest. Yet Zeke doesn’t do so much as flinch, replying with the confidence of a dead man, “If you don't believe me, then why are we here?”
The nerve this bastard has, knowing all too well Levi isn't in the position to kill him. He wonders if he could just cut Zeke's throat out instead, save himself the trouble of conversing with him. “What's the signal?”
“That would ruin the fun, now wouldn't it?”
The cry of agony from Zeke is exactly what Levi wants to hear when he puts pressure onto his spine. If he's not going to answer, Levi might as well wipe the cocky expression off his face. He takes his foot off Zeke's neck and steps to his side, making sure to give Zeke a solid kick to his stomach. It's not enough, though, seeing as Zeke is immediately trying to get up. Levi has to kick him back, and he swears he feels a rib break as he does.
His blade is back Zeke's throat, free hand fisting his shirt's collar and keeping him against the tree. Zeke groans in pain, but keeps his hands clenched at his sides.
“Or maybe,” Levi starts, pushing the blade further and branding Zeke with a new cut, “I cut off your hands and feet, rip your voice box out your throat and strew your guts all over the floor.” He digs his blade deeper, far too deep if Zeke didn't possess his regenerative abilities. The blonde begins to choke on his blood, red spilling from his lips and dirtying both of their shirts. “Would that solve our little problem, then? I'll keep cutting off your growing limbs, keep your organs from bursting, keep you too useless to turn. How does that sound, you sack of shit?”
“Do you really want to risk that?” Zeke shoots back weakly, his red, shit-eating grin as wide as it always has been. Zeke doesn't elaborate further, doesn't need to. It has Levi relieving the pressure from his neck - only by a hair - out of instinct, because he doesn't know if that would work. He doesn't know what it would take to prevent Zeke from turning. Eren was never a good measure for weakness, they concluded that years ago. After seeing Eren turn several times during that night in Marley, who knows what this shithead’s limit is? Not to mention, he has no clue what his signal is, if it's real to begin with.
“So, what? Are you going to try it and run? Or do you really think you have a chance of killing me?”
Something about the way Zeke chuckles makes him think that, yes, he does in fact doubt Levi’s abilities. He grips his blade's handle tighter, tempted to kill him on the spot. He'll be damning Paradis, but at least he'd be possibly saving his comrades. He's already sent so many to their deaths, though. What would their deaths be worth if he threw this opportunity away?
Levi swallows, this Adam's apple bobbing uncomfortably in his throat. His eyes flicker off of Zeke's face for just a moment. The steam that blankets the both of them, Zeke's blood disappearing at the same rate his throat bleeds, is hot and stifling, making it difficult to stay sharp. Thankfully, the second he feels movement he's locking back onto his prisoner, never faltering his hold, and growls, “Don't even try it.”
“I don't think you're in a very good position to be making demands, Levi,” Zeke points out, as cocky as ever, “But I'll cut you a deal.”
Levi's eyes narrow, and he grates his teeth as he speaks, “What deal?”
“I won't do anything. I won't run, or turn your little friends into titans,” Zeke begins hoarsely, and Levi's glare increases, “And in return, you play nice.”
“Bullshit. What is it you really want?”
Zeke takes pause, as if contemplating his options, then elaborates, “I get to stop bleeding from my neck, for one.”
It's all he gives, waiting to see if Levi is at least willing to consider the threat before him. It takes far too much time, encumbered with silence, for Levi to finally pull his blade from Zeke's throat. He doesn't sheath it however, cautiously keeping it between them as he slowly, resentfully, backs off. With much relief, Zeke keeps his breath steady, and the two of them quietly wait through his healing process.
The air is cold now, blood nowhere to be seen. Zeke squints as he looks around, stopping when he finds his glasses and goes to pick it up. He's sure to give Levi what he assumes to be a silent request, but Zeke doesn’t wait for an answer before going ahead and gripping his dirty fingers around his dainty glasses. He spends some time wiping the muck off the lenses, only to sigh deeply through his nose.
“I would rather enjoy being able to use my hands again,” Zeke comments airily.
“Fat chance,” Levi sneers, receiving an unimpressed look from Zeke, “You want me to serve you a hot meal and soft blankets too?”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he responds, and then offers his hands to Levi without another word.
Levi can't wait to see Zeke's head off his body. His fingers twitch at the anticipation, but has to reel in his desire and instead raise his blade to the ropes. He cuts them off smoothly, nipping some parts of Zeke's thumbs, but the bastard doesn't complain. He just shakes his hands as they steam up, then rubs his wrists to alleviate the welts that had formed. They don't even last. Neither has the cut on his throat.
“Tell me,” Zeke catches Levi staring at his wrists, snapping up his attention like a child caught red-handed, “You've been my brother's mentor for how long now? Tell me about it.”
“I’m his Captain,” Levi corrects sternly, then has to clamp his mouth shut at his blip. He shakes his head, giving Zeke a break from his gaze, “I was his Captain.”
“Is that regret, I hear? Shame?” Zeke pokes, cleaning his glasses still with his newfound freedom, “Eren mentioned you quite a bit, you know. When we weren't discussing plans in Marley.”
“Is there a point in all this, or are you having fun being an intolerable piss stain?”
“He did say you have quite the rotten mouth. Despite that, he spoke rather fondly of you.” Zeke chuckles a bit, but there's enough strain in it for Levi to understand it as disapproval. The bastard then places his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Levi scoffs, laying his eyes on Zeke's legs, keeping him in his peripheral vision. He doesn't want to hear this. He doesn't want to know. The last thing he needs are distractions being dredged up from the deep hole he left them in.
Instead of proceeding, though, Zeke goes quiet. It's unusual of him to do so, especially not without making his point. Levi can feel Zeke staring at him, and he purses his lips in discomfort.
“You two were intimate, weren't you?”
Levi nearly slashes his blade across Zeke's neck then and there. He clenches the handle tightly, looking back at Zeke but refusing to show any more of a reaction beyond that. Zeke is more than happy to continue without his input.
“What a scandalous thing to do, Levi! Taking advantage of a child like that,” Zeke declares jovially, but Levi can tell there's poison laced behind it. It's not exactly subtle. The rage in Zeke's eyes is threatening in and of itself. “What's my poor little brother to do when his superior comes onto him? You didn't even give him a chance.”
A defence comes to the back of Levi's throat. He wants to scream it, but all he can do is keep his eyes locked with Zeke's, he who persists in his accusation.
“I heard he was under your care when he was only fifteen, did you do things with him then?” Zeke becomes increasingly hostile with his tone, even leans forward and rests crossed arms on his knees, “Fifteen to eighteen. In Marley they lock people like you up. Is Paradis really that backwards?”
Levi's mouth is dry. His eyes shot open. He doesn't know how to process Zeke's sudden outburst or his words, and he only just manages to rasp, “That's not–”
“What did you do to him, hm? Did you have your way with him from the start?” Zeke asks, and Levi latches onto it with narrowed eyes pointing back at the accuser. His anger flares at the insinuation as the accusation continues fizzling his blood. "Or did you slowly worm your way into his bedroom looking to feed like the little parasite you are?”
“Watch yourself,” Levi grates out with a toxicity matching that of Zeke's, “I can still cut your voice out and leave your spine intact.”
He doesn't expect Zeke to listen, so he's surprised to find that no more sound meets his ears. Zeke's mouth is closed shut, gauging something in Levi's expression that he isn't aware of. That is, until the silence becomes too loud, and Zeke breaks it with a quiet voice that somehow seems louder than his borderline yelling from before.
“I see,” Zeke breaks eye contact, and it's as if the rage has been sucked out of him. Both of their shoulders relax, but Levi's chest remains tight. Actually, there's a lot more that his body is doing than he initially thought. Levi's cheeks are flushed, his ears are burning. His fucking heart is beating out of his chest in a completely different way from before. He's mad, yes, but there are memories resurfacing that has him nearly squirming where he squats. He has enough control and common sense to sit still, but he’s seriously craving some tea right about now.
Arguing isn't the best course of action, Levi concludes. It's not something he can easily explain, and he's not about to bend over backwards to defend himself against such scum. Staying passive has never been one of his strong suits, though.
So much time passes that Levi's arm tires. Against his better judgement, he makes sure to sheathe it. They're at a standstill anyways, and Levi is relatively confident he can hack this fucker to pieces if push comes to shove. What he ends up most upset about is having to sit his ass down on the cold, damp forest floor. After squatting for so long, his knees were going to buckle otherwise.
It's difficult to feel at ease. Especially when he processes the fact that Zeke’s eyes have been glazing over Levi for more than what's considered appropriate. He lets out an unimpressed huff, resting his weight on one knee. “Are you sizing me up for an escape plan?”
It's only partly a joke, but Zeke doesn't put on another one of his faux smiles. Levi feels his hand instinctively rest on top of his blade handle.
“I promised not to run,” Zeke reminds him, “As long as you play nice.”
“Just what exactly is that even–”
Zeke lunges forward with an energy Levi doesn’t expect and he's a split second too slow. He drives his blade to Zeke's throat only to have the bastard’s forearm get in the way, and the angle of his blade is too off-set to cleanly cut through the bone. It lodges itself into Zeke's muscle, and Levi is detaching the blade in an attempt to replace it before hands are grabbing his wrists and a heavy weight is pinning him down against the floor.
Thrashing against Zeke doesn't stop him from holding Levi down. In the blur of struggle Levi slices his palm against the blade sticking out of Zeke's arm and he hisses in pain. He manages to tuck his knee up and lodge his foot into the blonde's ribs, but there's not enough time or energy and he is only barely able to kick him off. At best he manages to gain a fleeting moment of movement, spinning onto his hands and getting on one knee before the ape's weight is back on him and crushing him to the dirt.
There's a pounding in his ears that ripples from his chest. Levi cranes his head around with the intent to spit at Zeke only to have a heavy hand shove his face down.
“Ah ah ah,” Zeke hushes, and Levi can hear the sizzling of steam emitting from his arm. The blade eventually falls out on its own, landing beside them.
If Levi can just grab it then he can–
"Need I remind you of the state of your men?”
Levi freezes. The strength in his arm pivots into his throat to keep himself from screaming out obscenities. He blinks, almost hysterically, trying to think of something, anything, he can say to get out of this.
“Play nice,” Zeke reminds him, "As you did for my brother. Right, Levi?”
Then there's another hand touching Levi's side, and he immediately wants to throw up the bile in his stomach. It glides down his waist, slowly, deliberately, groping the minimal fat until it reaches his bottom, where fingers firmly curl around the mounds. A shiver runs up his spine.
“Don't,” Levi tries, but it comes out as a pathetic whisper and he's regretting saying anything. Zeke merely hums, not giving any warning before harshly tugging on Levi's pants. The motion, without loosening his belt, has the fabric cutting at his skin and probably marking the start of ugly red welts.
The cold air is a slap to the face. Levi is digging his fingers into the ground, the thought of dirt and muck lining his fingernails doesn't even cross his mind. The forefront of his thoughts is overwhelmed by the way Zeke spreads one of his ass cheeks, pressing a thumb against his entrance without any tenderness to soothe him. Levi's jaw clamps shut, his teeth painfully grinding together.
“I bet you haven't been with anyone since Eren,” Zeke muses, pushing his thumb against his rim until Levi is choking on his own shout, “You don't seem the unfaithful type. Makes this all the sweeter.”
“ Stop –” Levi's gasp is too quiet, the sound blanketed by the shuffling of clothes. He could try to fight, he should trust himself to fight, but he can't move a muscle. Stopping this will either kill Zeke, himself, or all his men. None of those outcomes is less important than his fidelity. This isn't worth the risk, but it doesn't make it any easier to tolerate the feeling of something thick pressing into his asshole.
Zeke is straightening his back, his hand on Levi's head gliding to hold his other cheek apart. Levi knows Zeke can tell, he can see how Levi's body remains taut and in no way prepared to make a move.
Levi is pliant, and he hates himself for it. He hates how he keeps his head low, how he allows Zeke to raise his hips to spit onto his entrance, how he fists the dirt that now soils his uniform just to keep himself from cutting open his palms with his nails. Worst of all, the strangled cry that escapes him when Zeke’s cocktip breaches his unprepped rim.
The spit is the only thing keeping the experience from being downright torture. Inch by inch, Zeke's length slowly buries itself inside, until it's snugly fit with his balls against Levi's ass. Levi's hands are trembling by the end of it, mouth agape at the size forcing him apart. He clenches around Zeke's girth with a horrified irony that of course the Jaegers have to be well-endowed. It wouldn't be his luck if they weren't.
“You're so tight, Levi, so pretty. You would have been treated better than most in Marley. If you sweetened yourself, you could have fucked your way into the arms of some wealthy Marlean,” Zeke compliments, leaning down and pressing a kiss behind his jaw. When Levi doesn't react, he lets out a huff, “I can see why Eren likes you so much. Maybe him and I can take turns with you when this is all over.”
“Fuck you,” Levi spits, catching his wobbling lip between his teeth. He has to consciously breathe to relax his muscles.
“Hm, it seems you're getting our positions mixed up,” Zeke says humourlessly, despite the small chuckle, “Don't worry, I doubt Eren's the type to share anyways.”
Zeke pulls out until only the tip remains inside. It makes Levi's core ache, and he wills himself to loosen, trying to spare himself any further agony. Seemingly pleased with how well Levi is taking it, Zeke softly rubs his shoulder, almost as if trying to assure him. All it does is make him feel sick.
Then Zeke is thrusting back inside all at once, and a shout erupts from Levi's throat. Zeke fucks him relatively slowly, pulling out like he has all the time in the world then brutally thrusting his whole length. It has Levi sputtering and choking out small sounds. His cock remains soft between his legs, even when Zeke reaches down to feel him. His big hand lazily jerks Levi off, as if he's getting more pleasure out of humiliating him than anything else.
It's difficult to keep himself steady, even on his arms and knees. Every slam into him as him lurching forward, eyes squeezing shut to try and block out reality until his face hurts. Zeke's grunts fill his ears and drag him back to the earth. He's groping Levi’s cock, moving to massage his balls, then sliding his hand under his shirt and touching him everywhere along his stomach and chest until Levi starts trembling in his arms.
Deathly silent, Levi breaks into a sob, half of the time keeping his lip caught between teeth to quiet himself. His shoulders shake and the taste of copper covers his tongue when he splits his bottom lip. Maybe Zeke notices, or maybe he just feels like it, but he’s now kissing the back of Levi’s neck. Zeke’s free hand roams to Levi's nipple and pinches it between his fingers, eliciting a sharp groan from its owner.
“You're gorgeous,” Zeke comments between his kisses. Levi can’t even bring himself to shake his head in protest, not when Zeke is angling his hips and speeds up. Levi is barely given enough time to catch up with the ruthless new pace, until Zeke starts fucking into a specific spot that has him crying out in a moan.
While Levi's horrified, eyes wide and mouth left gaping, Zeke finds it awfully amusing. He slows down to a partial stop, grinding against that same area and watching the way Levi's sounds shift from pain and defeat into unwilling pleasure. He chuckles to himself, leaving one last kiss to the neck before returning his hand to Levi’s half-erect cock.
“You're also a whore, I see,” he adds, and Levi can hear the smile on his lips, “How long was it before you were spreading your legs for Eren like a desperate slut?”
Levi wants to argue, but he doesn't dare utter a word when his mind is going blank from the double stimulation. His cock is being jerked to full mast, and Zeke is relentless in grinding into that spot. It's tightening a knot in Levi's stomach and he can't do anything about it. Weakly kicking his legs beneath Zeke is all he can do, but he is swiftly punished for it.
Though Zeke's hand leaves his cock, it returns to his head and shoves his face into the dirt, fully presenting Levi's ass to him. Even when the dirt is enough to drive him up the wall, Levi is grateful that the ground is not damp enough to be mud. He'd be even more grateful if Zeke didn't start fucking him harshly again.
With his hips higher than before, and his face in the dirt, the new angle and hammering pace knocks any coherent thought out of him. Levi heaves through his nose, groaning with his mouth shut alongside Zeke's softer grunts. The split of his lip stings against the dirt and had he any room for thought he would be grimacing at how unsanitary everything is.
But no, he’s left empty-handed at how surreal the situation is. He's able to swallow thickly, yet the moment he does his mouth is ajar and louder, breathier moans spill from his throbbing lip. His eyes roll up and his hips tilt themselves just that bit more to receive the perfect angle and Zeke’s sardonic laugh cuts through the air like a knife. Though Zeke never stops fucking Levi. In fact, he only goes harder, and with Levi's unintentional cooperation all it does is drive them both further to the edge.
The moment Levi realises this, the pure shame finally gives him the will to voice something.
“ Stop ,” is all he says, over and over, barely above a whisper, “ Stop… stop… ”
He knows Zeke wouldn't give him the luxury, but what he doesn't expect is how he slows down a degree. Not enough to stop the sounds from leaving him, but enough to make everything all the more tolerable, all the more pleasurable. It comes with a revolting realisation that the result is by design, and Zeke wants Levi to enjoy it. To humiliate him, to break him down. It feels like a bullet to his gut.
Levi shuts his eyes, and with a deep whine he feels his body unravelling and then he's seeing light. His muscles lock up and he comes onto the soil, clenching around Zeke's length as his orgasm wrecks through him. By some mercy, Zeke is slamming into him a final time not long after, ejaculating into Levi until he’s full. As he pulls out, Zeke's hands depart from his body, and Levi is allowed to collapse onto the ground.
He's drifting, gradually collecting his thoughts as he hears the other pull his pants up. Out of a strange and fucked up courtesy he cleans Levi up with his own white jacket. It's too nice, it reminds him of Eren. It reminds him of simpler nights.
His chest hurts and he wants to cry, but he can't, and he won't. He stones himself with slow, agonizing breaths, all while his pants are tugged up and his clothes adjusted, albeit messily.
Before Zeke gets off of him entirely, he's leaning into Levi’s ear with a hot, heavy breath, “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Levi rasps, palming the dirt as he prepares to sit up. Zeke doesn’t allow him to, however. He’s taking him by his waist, lifting him up and placing him onto his lap, allowing Levi to rest with his back against his chest.. The childish position has Levi wondering what wires are tangled in his head. What causes a man to act this way towards someone he’s just violated, is beyond Levi’s understanding.
“You’re a good fuck, Levi,” Zeke admits, before placing a soft kiss to the back of Levi’s ear. His arms have wrapped themselves around Levi’s smaller frame, holding him almost like a lover. “Let's do this again soon.”