Archive of Our Own ^beta

Levi gazes blankly out the window of the carriage, weighed down by the black mood that inevitably descends on him following enforced attendance at gala events at the capitol. Since being promoted to captain, such events have become an increasingly frequent occurrence, and not one that Levi welcomes. It’s not so much the attentions of the politicians and the aristocracy that irk him, he may despise them, but he has learned to tolerate their fawning hypocrisy, inbred arrogance and predictable duplicity, however tolerating the long journeys to Mitras alone with Erwin Smith is another matter altogether. It’s not that Levi dislikes the Commander’s company, quite the opposite, any hatred he once felt for the man has long since burned out, to be replaced by something infinitely more dangerous, something that lights a spark in Levi’s chest, something that gives purpose to his every waking moment, something that he struggles to control.

“You didn’t dance,” Erwin comments amicably, as the carriage passes out through the Sina gate.

Levi can just make out the blue of his eyes in the dim glow of the swinging carriage lantern.

“Of course I didn’t dance,” he snaps, making no attempt to hide his irritation.

“Can you?”

“Can I what?”

Levi knows he’s being wilfully obtuse, but right now, he really is not in the mood.

“Can you dance?” Erwin persists, refusing to rise to the bait.

“What the fuck do you think?”

Erwin doesn’t need to say what he thinks.

The carriage rattles through the darkened streets, bumping over rain slick cobbles, scattering a group of drunkards loitering outside a tavern.

Erwin breaks the silence after a long pause.

“You should learn.”

“Is that an order?”

“No.” Erwin pauses, “but it’s a useful skill to acquire. It does no harm to charm the wives of the Survey Corps’ benefactors. You might be surprised, but more often than not, they’re the ones holding the purse strings.”

“Surprised? You reckon?”

Levi rolls his eyes. He knows exactly who holds the purse strings in Sina.

“Besides,” Erwin presses on, undeterred by Levi’s unimpressed glare. “It’s…” he pauses again for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “…pleasant.”

“Pleasant?” Levi sneers in disbelief. “Being pawed at and having your feet trodden on by some simpering Sina…”

He stops himself before he says something he’ll regret.

Levi’s irritation is increased by the fact that he knows he is being entirely disingenuous. He had been utterly captivated watching Erwin dance, weaving effortlessly around the crowded dance floor without once making contact with the other couples. Though he barely admits it even to himself, Levi is fascinated by watching Erwin in motion, for such an imposing man, he moves with surprising elegance and grace. He often thinks it a sin that Erwin spends so much time sitting hunched behind his desk. Watching Erwin navigating the dance floor had reminded Levi of the way he traversed the training course; moving with purpose, calm, confident and collected.

But on the dance floor it had been more than that. Erwin conferred an effortless poise and grace on his partners when they stepped into the circle of his arms. Women transformed as they danced with Erwin; they stood a little straighter, lifted their chin a little higher, all pretensions and affectations falling away as they relaxed into Erwin’s embrace. One woman in particular had caught Levi’s eye, tall and fair, her black and red gown contrasting with Erwin’s handsome dress uniform. Erwin had kissed her hand before leading her onto the dance floor. As they waited for the music to start, Erwin spoke to her and smiled, and Levi watched as she tilted her head back and laughed. It was the only time they spoke. As the music began, Levi watched in fascination as they started to weave their way around the dance floor, moving together in perfect unison, never once putting a foot wrong, each focused only on the other. Levi could almost see the connection between them and he couldn’t help feeling a bitter pang of what? Jealousy? No not that, something else, something like regret. Regret that he would never be the one in Erwin’s arms. The ridiculous notion had made his cheeks flush scarlet, but he still couldn’t drag his gaze away from the dance floor. He watched until the music rose to a crescendo and Erwin ended the dance with a flourish, dipping his partner into an elegant backbend, then the spell was broken. Erwin led the woman back to her seat, kissed her hand, a last smile, a tilt of her head, and he turned and walked away.

“Who was that?” Levi had asked when Erwin returned to his side.

“Not sure, one of the noble women,” Erwin had replied vaguely, accepting a glass of wine from a passing waiter.

“Don’t you know her?”

“No, I don’t recall ever seeing her before. Why do you ask?”

Levi hadn’t answered. It seemed impossible to him that Erwin could move so beautifully, so gracefully, could create such an intimate connection with someone he had never before met.

Levi is still thinking about the way the fair-haired woman had moved so effortlessly in Erwin’s arms, when his thoughts are interrupted again.

“I think you’d be a very good dancer.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Levi frowns as he feel his cheeks colouring. “How much did you drink? Are you pissed?”

“Not at all,” Erwin continues, “it’s a perfectly reasonable observation, you have the ability to improvise, exceptional balance and control, you’re quick, alert and light on your feet. You have all the qualities required to make an excellent dancer.”

Levi glares across the carriage at Erwin but he can’t help feeling more than a little unsettled that the Commander should think of him in such terms. Erwin meets his gaze calmly and Levi wonders if he’s imaging the faintest flush of pink colouring his cheeks.

“Besides,” Erwin continues nonchalantly, brushing an invisible speck of something off the sleeve of his jacket, “half of Sina is fascinated by Humanity’s Strongest. I’m sure they’d be queuing up to dance with you, which would do no harm to the Survey Corps’ reputation.” He looks up and smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Of course, the Survey Corps; all for the benefit of the Survey Corps. Something inside Levi, the faintest glimmer of hope and curiosity, flickers and dies.

“Are you trying to pimp me out Commander Smith?” he drawls sarcastically.

“No, no, not at all!” Erwin throws his hands up looking genuinely appalled. “I… I just think…” he stutters to a halt. Levi narrows his eyes and peers at him more closely, curiosity piqued; it’s so very, very, unlike the Commander to reveal even the slightest hint of hesitation.

“Let me teach you,” he blurts out suddenly.

Levi stares in disbelief.

“What the fuck?”

“To dance. Let me teach you to dance.”

“You’re shitting me right?”

“Not at all.”

Erwin has schooled his face again, his momentary loss of composure carefully masked, but there is still a glimmer of something in his eyes.

“Like I said, it’s a useful…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Levi cuts him off, “you said. A useful skill or some bullshit. All right then, when?”

“Now.”

Something about the way Erwin is gazing at him across the carriage makes Levi shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“Now? It’s the middle of the fucking night!”

“You never sleep anyway.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“Just an observation.”

It’s true. Levi rarely sleeps more than a few hours a night but it unnerves him that Erwin should be aware of this. Though perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised, nothing that occurs within the Survey Corps escapes Erwin notice, his own nocturnal habits included apparently.

They sit in silence for the remainder of the journey, and by the time the carriage enters the gates of the old castle that serves as the Survey Corps head quarters and draws to a halt in the courtyard, Levi is tense and wired, coiled tight like an over wound spring.

“All right?” Erwin enquires as they step down from the carriage. Levi doesn’t answer because he’s not entirely sure what he’s asking.

Erwin stops at the entrance for a moment, brow furrowed thoughtfully.

“The mess hall would be ideal, but we’d have to clear the tables away, probably not a good idea at this time of night. My office will have to do instead. Come on Captain.”

With that, he sweeps past the sentries at the door, and takes the stairs two at a time. Levi hangs back, painfully aware of their discretely curious gaze as he follows the Commander up the stairs. His steps already feel leaden and he knows, he just knows, that this is going to be a huge fucking disaster from start to finish. All Levi’s instincts are telling him to turn and run, but his damned stubbornness refuses to let him back out now and, besides, there’s something twisting in his chest that he just can’t ignore.

By the time he has trailed up the stairs to Erwin’s office he finds the door open and the furniture already pushed aside. Erwin is standing in the middle of the room in his shirtsleeves with his hands on his hips looking thoughtfully at the space he has created.

“There. It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do.”

Levi eyes the square of floor space suspiciously.

“There’s not much room.”

“We don’t need much room.” Erwin looks up and smiles and this time it reaches his eyes. “They say the best dancers can dance all night on a single tile.” He’s still smiling and Levi is fucked if he can look away, but somehow he can’t bring himself to enter the room.

“Come on then. I won’t bite.”

Erwin holds one hand out towards him and Levi is suddenly reminded of the way he kissed the hand of the fair woman at the gala. The memory only adds to his mortification and he decides he would rather face a whole horde of deviant titans than step into the room and take Erwin Smith’s hand.

“You’re fucking serious about this?”

It’s all he can do to force the words out of his mouth.

“Yes.”

Levi swallows hard and steps into the room.

“Aren’t we missing something?” He asks suddenly in an effort to distract himself from his own embarrassment.

“What?” Erwin looks around the room in confusion.

“Music dumbass.”

“Ah, well, unless you’re offering to sing, I’m afraid we’ll just have to do without.”

“Let’s just get this fucking over with,” Levi growls, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over a chair.

Erwin steps towards him and it’s all Levi can do to stop himself from backing away. He has always deliberately, purposefully, kept his distance from the Commander and to be this close feels downright dangerous. There is something about Erwin’s physical presence that makes his blood race in a way that can only mean trouble.

It feels even more dangerous a moment later when Erwin closes the gap between them and places his right arm around Levi in a loose embrace, his hand settling lightly between his shoulder blades. Levi startles at the sudden contact and Erwin smiles down at him.

“You’re trembling Levi, are you cold?”

“Just get on with it.” Levi chokes out, trying and failing to ignore the warm pressure of Erwin’s hand on his back, his solid presence in front of him, so close he can smell his subtle cologne and the faintest tang of sweat.

“So,” Erwin starts, “I’m going to lead and you’re going to follow. Once you get the hang of it, I’ll show you how to lead.”

Levi recognises Erwin’s tone as the one he uses with the trainees; measured, reassuring, professional. He briefly feels an unaccountable pang of disappointment that’s swept away a moment later when Erwin catches his right hand in his left and lifts it lightly to just above the level of Levi’s shoulder. His fingers are warm and slightly rough and his hand almost envelopes Levi’s smaller one.

“Now,” Erwin continues in his most reassuring tone, “put your other arm around me.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Levi’s steps back hastily, breaking the embrace. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what to do? Aren’t you supposed to teach me steps or some shit?”

“No, no steps, we’re just going to walk. All you have to do is follow me.”

Erwin replaces his hand on Levi’s back, drawing him back into the embrace, but careful to leave a discrete gap between them.

“Here, put your left arm around me.”

“Where?” Levi can feel his cheeks burning and he feels strangely lightheaded, but, at least standing this close, he can avoid meeting Erwin’s gaze.

“We can start with an open hold, here will do.”

Erwin takes Levi’s left hand and places it on his upper arm. Levi stops breathing. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, he can feel the solid muscle of Erwin’s arm flexing minutely beneath his fingers and for a moment he is convinced that his knees are going to give way underneath him.

“We can close the hold once you feel more comfortable,” Erwin continues, and through a haze of panic, Levi notices that his voice sounds different, lower, softer, with a heat and depth Levi has never heard before. Levi glances up at Erwin and instantly regrets it. His eyes are shining and that faint flush of pink is blooming across his cheeks again; this time Levi is definitely not imagining it and he can’t stop himself from swearing quietly under his breath.

“We don’t have to,” Erwin adds hastily “only if you’re comfortable.”

Comfortable is the very last thing Levi imagines feeling under the circumstances.

“All right. Don’t move until I do, don’t try to pre-empt what I’m going to do. Just concentrate on me and follow my moves. Oh and try to relax a little, you’re very tense.” Erwin squeezes Levi’s hand gently, which has quite the opposite effect from what he had intended.

“But how the fuck am I supposed to know where you’re going?” Levi can feel the panic rising even while he silently berates himself for his own stupidity. All they’re doing is dancing, that’s it, nothing more.

“Just focus on me,” Erwin attempts to reassure him in that strangely heated tone, “try to feel the connection.”

Levi almost laughs out loud at the irony, given that he normally exerts the entirety of his not inconsiderable will on trying to do the very opposite.

“It’s almost like listening to your partner,” Erwin continues, “here, try and feel where my weight is.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, it’s the slightest movement but Levi finds he can follow it with ease and, without really thinking about it, he moves his own balance as Erwin does.

“There, you see? You’re following me already. I knew you’d be a natural. So now we can move. I’m afraid you’ll be walking backwards, but don’t worry, I’ll guide you. Ready?”

Levi takes a deep breath and nods.

Erwin shifts his weight to his right, pauses for a moment and steps forward. Levi feels him move, freezes, and Erwin steps right onto his foot.

“Fuck. Shit.” Levi curses.

“Don’t worry,” Erwin laughs, “no damage done I hope? It takes a bit of practice, lets try again.”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot again, steps forward, and this time Levi moves with him. It feels weird walking backwards, and though Erwin is moving slowly and deliberately, Levi can’t help turning his head from time to time to see where he is going. Otherwise his gaze is riveted to their feet, convinced he will miss his step causing Erwin to tread on him again. Somehow they manage to navigate a couple of circuits of the floor without further mishaps and Levi breathes a sigh of relief when Erwin stops.

“That was excellent,” he smiles down at Levi, genuinely pleased, “I knew you’d be a natural. Just one thing,” he shakes their clasped hands slightly flexing his fingers around Levi’s. “You don’t need to grip my hand quite so tightly, just try to relax.”

Levi stares at their hands, unaware of the strength of his grip until he notices his knuckles are white, fingers pressing marks into Erwin’s hand.

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbles dropping Erwin’s hand immediately.

“Don’t worry,” Erwin laughs, shaking out his fingers, “I don’t think you’ve broken anything.”

Levi scowls at the floor, acutely self-conscious.

“Just one more thing,” Erwin tone lowers again, as he lifts his hand to Levi’s chin, tilting his head upwards, “don’t look at the floor Levi.”

“Where the fuck am I supposed to look then?”

“I think you’re supposed to look at your partner.”

Levi glances up at Erwin and his mouth goes dry, heart hammering in his chest. Erwin is so close, the space between them so small and he’s staring down at Levi with such heat burning in his eyes that he cannot hold his gaze. Levi looks away, clenching his fist to stop his hand from shaking.

“I’ll get a crick in my fucking neck. Tall ass.”

“Close your eyes,” Erwin murmurs, “you don’t need to see where you’re going just trust me.”

Levi settles on staring straight ahead at Erwin’s chest, or rather at the first button of his shirt, as he tries not to notice the way the fine white fabric stretches across Erwin’s chest as he moves.

“Shall we try again?”

Before Levi can answer, Erwin catches his hand again and applies the slightest pressure to his back, pulling the embrace closer. And despite himself, despite every bitter lesson life has hammered into him, despite his determination to keep his distance, to keep away, Levi allows Erwin to draw him closer.

This time it’s easier. Levi allows himself to focus on Erwin’s body and finds that
he can sense the movement, the subtlest shifts of weight and balance and direction before Erwin actually steps. It doesn’t seem to require any conscious thought or effort, the connection is just there. Erwin moves and Levi moves with him, surrendering to his lead. And somehow, miraculously, improbably, it is comfortable.

As Levi starts to move with more confidence, Erwin varies the length and tempo of his steps, turning and pivoting, pausing on a breath, stepping forward across Levis’ space so he has to twist his hips to step backwards, and all the time holding the embrace, holding the connection. There’s a grace and fluidity to their movements now but there’s a subtle heat there too, an undercurrent of expectation that lends an urgency, an immediacy, to their movements.

Levi can feel the anxiety draining out of him, leaving a thrilling tension of an entirely different kind. As he relaxes into Erwin’s arms Levi feels a corresponding shift in Erwin’s posture. His hand flexes and shifts on his back, it’s the smallest movement, but it’s all it takes to close the embrace. Levi leans in against him, cheek coming to lie against Erwin’s chest, his head fitting neatly below his collarbone. He slides his hand up around Erwin’s shoulder until it finds the back of his neck, skin warm and smooth beneath his fingertips. Levi closes his eyes as Erwin drops his head to rest lightly against his own, and everything fades out but the connection between them. There’s an intimacy to it, a closeness, beyond anything Levi has ever experienced or imagined.

Levi is so lost in the moment, in Erwin’s embrace, that it takes him a moment to realise they have stopped moving. Erwin allows their clasped hands to drop to their sides but their fingers remain tangled together. Beneath Levi’s cheek, he can feel Erwin’s heart beating a swift steady tattoo. They stand, motionless, hardly daring to breathe, lest they break the connection. Then Erwin moves. Slowly, deliberately he lifts his head and places a single kiss in Levi’s hair. It’s soft, light but there is such determination there, such want, that it takes Levi’s breath away.

Years or mere seconds might have passed before Levi speaks.

“So what now?” his voice is low, muffled against Erwin’s chest.

“Follow me Levi.”

“Idiot. Didn’t I tell you years ago I would follow you?”

Erwin tilts his head down and places a long deep kiss on Levi’s lips. Levi follows.