Archive of Our Own ^beta

Levi is invariably in a foul mood following enforced attendance at funding events in the capitol, but tonight, even by his usual standards, he appears uncommonly tense and wired. Erwin knows how much he dislikes these events but he tells himself that Humanity’s Strongest is a valuable asset to the Survey Corps, all be it an ill tempered one, and gods know, they need to exploit every asset at their disposal. And if that means dragging the Captain to galas and balls so he can stand with his back to the wall glowering at the nobles and dignitaries, then so be it. It’s all just part of the charade to drum up desperately needed funding and support for the Corps.

That’s what Erwin tells himself. Although if Erwin was being honest with himself, which he is not, he would have to admit that he enjoys dragging Levi out to these events. He enjoys his surly presence, enjoys the defiant tilt of his chin as he glares at the nobles, enjoys his caustic comments, the way be bristles at any perceived slight to the Survey Corps or its Commander. But Erwin Smith is not an honest man and he will not admit these things. And most particularly, he will not admit, not even to himself, especially not to himself, that he enjoys the way the Captain’s dress uniform fits over his small lithe form.

Erwin stretches his long legs out across the carriage and crosses them at the ankle, noticing how Levi’s whole body seems to stiffen as he moves, lips pressing into a thin line, brows drawing down into that familiar furious scowl. And Erwin wants so badly to reach out and touch him, to defuse that tension in any way he can. Hanji once demonstrated, after several failed attempts and not inconsiderable risk to their person, how a slender metal rod could be used to direct lightning to the ground and Erwin wonders if he were to touch Levi could he discharge the tension in a similar way. But Levi, like lightning, is dangerous and unpredictable and Erwin does not want to risk causing irreparable damage.

Levi has his own method of diffusing the tension; it’s not uncommon for him to make straight for the training ground after returning from these events, throwing off his jacket and struggling into his gear heedless of the ruin to his best shirt and dress uniform. Use of 3DM gear is strictly forbidden after dark, but who can stop him? Erwin has tried, his heart in his throat as he commanded him to stand down from the platform. “That’s an order Captain!” Levi ignored him, gazing down, a shadow among the trees, before firing off his anchors and disappearing into the darkness.

Levi has been a continual, though unpredictable, presence in Erwin’s life these last two years. He is as familiar to Erwin as the pen between his fingertips, the straps of the harness across his back, the fatigue and disappointment that follows each failed mission, the eternal hope that the next one will be a success. He’s just there, a permanent fixture of Survey Corps life, of Erwin’s life. Familiar as the dream that drives him on. During that time, they appear to have reached some kind of cautious equilibrium, the delicate balance of which is set by Levi and Levi alone. One wrong move from Erwin, an overly familiar word, a misinterpretation, failure to understand the frustrations Levi struggles to articulate, immediately set it off kilter. It troubles Erwin, but he has learned to be patient, to tolerate Levi’s volatile moods, to wait for the balance to return.

But for all Levi’s familiarity, Erwin feels he is still no closer to knowing the man, to reaching him, than he was all those years ago, when he first saw that small figure flying with astonishing grace and agility through the gloom of the Underground. Whenever Erwin lifts his eyes Levi is always there, he circles Erwin, maintaining a careful, calculated distance, always present, always apart, pulling away whenever Erwin tries to reach out. Erwin has grown used to this elaborate dance but it pains him that he cannot close the distance.

His earlier attempts at engaging Levi in conversation about the ball having failed, Erwin sits and watches the smaller man as the carriage rattles through the streets of Sina. He knows he’s staring, and he knows it irritates Levi but he is sufficiently frustrated that he hopes to provoke a reaction. Besides, there is little point in attempting to hide his gaze when Levi is studiously looking everywhere but at him. His eyes flickering from the black window of the carriage, to the floor, to an invisible, but apparently fascinating, spot on his left sleeve. Strange, when earlier in the evening Levi’s eyes had been all over him, watching like a hawk as he circled the dance floor, gaze sliding away whenever Erwin looked up to catch his eye.

Erwin had been intensely aware of Levi’s gaze as he danced with one particular partner earlier in the evening. After several painful circuits of the dance floor with the wives of potentially lucrative benefactors, all of whom appeared to have been blessed with two left feet, Erwin had decided to take his chances with a tall fair woman, elegantly dressed in red and black. He didn’t recall seeing her before but something about her open smile and lack of affectation had captivated his attention. After initially protesting her inability to dance, and Erwin swearing faithfully that she was in safe hands, something she appeared to find uncommonly amusing, she took Erwin’s hand and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. For all her protestations, she had proved to be the perfect partner; what she may have lacked in technique she more than made up for in connection, settling into Erwin’s arms with an attentiveness and familiarity that he rarely experienced with the other noble women he danced with. As the music swelled and Erwin led her effortlessly around the floor everything else faded out but the woman in his arms and Levi’s gaze following them through the crowd. He was still watching as the dance ended and Erwin escorted his glowing partner back to her seat, kissing her hand courteously, and not a little flirtatiously, and being rewarded by the brightest smile he had seen this side of Sina.

Levi was still staring with ill concealed fascination when Erwin returned to join him at the back of the hall and that was what had got him thinking. Initially the notion of Levi dancing seemed utterly preposterous, the Captain hardly had a reputation for frivolity after all, however despite his uncouth demeanour, Levi was without doubt the most graceful creature that Erwin had ever laid eyes on. Quick, lithe, and light on his feet, he moved with a natural poise and balance that the finest dancing masters of Mitras could only have envied. Once the idea of Levi dancing had taken hold, it would not leave Erwin, and for the remainder of the evening he had been tormented by the thought of taking Levi in his arms and leading him around the dance floor, of feeling that small supple body moving against him, of closing the embrace and the distance between them.

And that is what prompts Erwin to ask Levi whether he can dance.

Levi responds to Erwin’s enquiry with disbelief and barely concealed contempt. His reaction to such an innocuous line of questioning is so hostile, so visceral, particularly when Erwin points out his natural grace and agility, that it piques Erwin’s interest and, despite his furious scowl, he can’t help noticing the two spots of colour starting to bloom across Levi’s cheeks.

Erwin presses on, but all attempts at convincing Levi of the advantages of dancing having failed, he can feel his patience starting to fray.

“Let me teach you to dance.”

The words are out of Erwin’s mouth before he can stop himself. He can feel his face colouring and curses his momentary loss of control. Levi glares across the carriage at him, eyes blown wide with stunned disbelief.

“What the fuck?”

Erwin has no idea what has taken possession of him, but there’s no going back now, so he issues a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening, and ploughs on, still fighting to school his features into something approaching neutral.

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

Levi is still staring at him but his expression has shifted, eyes narrowing into that shrewd glare that seems to pierce through Erwin’s carefully constructed façade.

“All right then, when?”

It’s not the answer he’d been expecting and Erwin knows he needs to act fast before Levi changes his mind, curses him roundly and tells him to go take a flying fuck, which, to be honest, would be an entirely reasonable response.

“Now.”

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

“You never sleep anyway.”

Shit. Erwin is beginning to wonder if he has actually had too much to drink as Levi suggested and whether it is the wine that has uncharacteristically loosed his tongue. Admittedly, Erwin makes it his business to know everything about the officers and men of the Survey Corps. How can he command if he doesn’t know the men and women he is supposed to lead? If one of his officers spends every other night restlessly prowling the corridors and the rooftops then it’s his duty as Commander to know. Whether it is also his duty to lie awake at night, brow furrowed in concern, listening for the light footsteps to pass his door, is a moot point that Erwin has carefully avoided considering.

They sit in silence for the remainder of the journey. Erwin focusing all his will on regaining his composure and calming his pulse, which seems to be racing uncontrollably. Levi has retreated to the furthest corner of the carriage and folded himself up into a small tense knot, arms and legs tightly crossed, the knuckles of his right hand showing white where he grips his sleeve. He’s so tense and wired by the time they finally arrive at the Survey Corps’ head quarters that Erwin can’t prevent a reassuring enquiry as they step down from the carriage.

“All right?”

He attempts to keep his tone calm, neutral, but is betrayed by the concern that leaks into his voice. Levi doesn’t answer, just stares at him and frowns.

Erwin has already decided that the only conceivable venue for their impromptu dancing lesson is his office, so mustering all his composure, and drawing himself up to his full height, he sweeps past the sentries at the door and takes the stairs two at a time. His heart is hammering in his chest and he doesn’t dare look back to see if Levi is following.

Standing in his shirtsleeves, hastily shed jacket flung over the back of a chair, Erwin tries to catch his breath as he surveys the space he has hastily cleared in the centre of his office. At least his shortness of breath and flushed cheeks can be attributed to the exertion of racing up the stairs and heaving the heavy furniture aside. Though really, he has no idea who he is trying to fool anymore. Himself? Levi?

Levi.

Levi.

Through the open door he can hear the heavy tread of Levi’s boots, dragging up the stairs, so unlike his usual swift light steps. Erwin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as Levi appears in the doorway. He stops, rooted to the spot, making no attempt to enter the room. Erwin holds his breath, afraid that if he exhales, Levi will startle and flee like a frightened hare.

Afraid. Frightened.

Levi is frightened.

The revelation strikes Erwin like a bolt from the blue. It’s so obvious that he can’t understand why he hasn’t seen it before. That carefully maintained distance, the sharp tongue, the gray eyes that flicker away whenever Erwin catches his gaze, it’s all a façade to conceal a fear that Levi would doubtless die rather than admit to. That Humanities Strongest, the man who has single handedly vanquished countless Titans, should be afraid seemed impossible, improbable, but there it is.

Though afraid of what exactly?

Erwin? No. Levi is not afraid of him; that much is clear. Levi, like Erwin himself, is afraid of this thing that hangs between them. This wordless, nameless tension that draws them together and pushes them apart.

Erwin might be unwilling, or unable, to put a name to this thing that they are both so afraid of, but fear itself he is familiar with, and this at least he can confront.

He smiles encouragingly and holds out his hand towards Levi.

“Come on then. I won’t bite.”

Levi blanches visibly, the colour draining from his face, leaving two startling spots of colour high on his cheeks.

“You’re fucking serious about this?”

His voice is strained and tight and Erwin can see the pulse flickering at the corner of his tightly clenched jaw. He’s clearly struggling and it cuts Erwin to the quick. He looks for all the world as though Erwin has ordered him to face a whole horde of deviants without blades or gear. Erwin has already convinced himself that Levi is going to turn around and walk away when he swallows audibly and steps into the room. Erwin releases a silent sigh of relief.

Erwin’s relief is short lived as Levi crosses the room and shrugs out of his jacket, the thin fabric of his shirt stretching across the solid muscle of his back. Erwin’s mouth goes dry. It’s ridiculous. He sees the Captain remove his jacket countless times every day, why should it be any different now? Except it isn’t any different. Erwin’s throat always tightens when Levi removes his jacket, no matter how often he berates himself for such improper and unprofessional thoughts. Levi is rolling his sleeves up as he turns back to face Erwin and he tries hard not to notice the dusting of fine dark hair on his forearms and the way the muscles of his arms flex.

The lack of music is admittedly a problem, though of all the hurdles Erwin has faced this night, it is not an insurmountable one. Erwin has danced often enough to be familiar with the repertoire. In an effort to focus on the task at hand Erwin begins running through a familiar piece in his head. He can already hear the strains of the orchestra as he takes a deep breath, steps forward and places his arm around Levi, his hand resting lightly between his shoulder blades. Erwin can feel the smooth planes of muscle shiver under his hand and he would swear that Levi has stopped breathing.

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

It’s a stupid question. Levi is like a furnace in his arms, heat radiating off him, beads of sweat gathering at his brow. He growls something inaudible and Erwin has to fight to keep his tone neutral as he briefly explains the mechanics of leading and following. Levi startles momentarily when Erwin catches up his right hand but he remains rooted to the spot, staring up at him, wide eyed.

“Now, put your other arm around me.”

Erwin’s voice sounds hollow, and he can’t believe he has just asked the Captain to put his arm around him. But all he is doing is teaching Levi to dance, nothing more, nothing to be afraid of. He had hoped to sound calm, reassuring, but clearly he has not succeeded as Levi almost jumps out of his skin, stepping back hastily, breaking the brief embrace.

“Wait! How the fuck am I supposed to know what to do? Aren’t you supposed to teach me steps or some shit?”

Levi’s voice sounds distinctly higher than normal, and Erwin detects a note of something, that in any other man, he would attribute to panic.

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

Erwin steps forward and takes up the hold again, careful to leave a discrete space between them, though it takes every ounce of power and control that he possesses not to immediately close the embrace. This time Levi makes no attempt to break away but he appears paralysed with either fear or indecision and his free hand remains resolutely by his side, fingers balled into a tight fist.

“Here, put your left arm around me. We can start with an open hold.”

Erwin’s lifts Levis hand and places it gently on his upper arm. Levi is still frozen to the spot and though Erwin can’t see his eyes he doesn’t fail to notice that the two spots of colour have blossomed across his cheeks.

“We can close the hold once you feel more comfortable.”

He’s still desperately trying for professional, reassuring, but his voice sounds all wrong, too low, too soft, and when Levi’s eyes flicker up to meet his own he feels his throat tighten and his head starts to swim. If anything, Levi feels even more tense than he looks, every muscle taut and trembling.

“Try to relax a little, you’re very tense.”

Erwin squeezes Levi’s hand gently, but it seems to have the opposite effect, his back is rigid beneath Erwin’s palm and he’s gripping Erwin’s hand like a vice.

With a supreme effort of will Erwin manages to control his voice and continues explaining the technique of leading and following, the connection and the embrace, the need to listen and focus. Levi chokes out a small sound that might almost be a laugh and Erwin fears that he’s not explaining himself clearly enough.

“Here, try and feel where my weight is.”

Erwin shifts his weight from foot to foot and, as he expected, Levi follows, moving his balance in perfect unison.

“There, you see? You’re following me already. I knew you’d be a natural. So now we can move. Ready?”

Levi inhales sharply and nods.

Erwin shifts his balance from one side to the other until he is sure which foot Levi is on. He moves forward confidently, Levi freezes, and he steps right onto his foot.

“Fuck. Shit.”

Levi’s curses echo the string of profanities that Erwin silently berates himself with.

“Don’t worry,” he manages to laugh, in a feeble attempt to brush off his clumsiness, “no damage done I hope? Lets try again.”

This time Erwin manages not to step on his partner and they navigate a couple of clumsy circuits around the office. Levi is as awkward and hesitant as a new recruit; his natural poise and grace appear to have deserted him entirely and his gaze remains riveted on their feet. By the time they stop, Levi’s grip on his hand has grown so tight that his knuckles are white and Erwin can barely feel his fingers. But it doesn’t matter, none of it matters, because for all their awkwardness Erwin can already feel the connection sparking between them.

“That was excellent, Levi. ” Erwin makes no attempt to hide his genuine pleasure at what feels like an astonishing achievement. “Just one thing, you don’t need to grip my hand quite so tightly, just try to relax.” He shakes their hands gently and Levi releases his grip as though scalded, mumbling an apology and scowling at the floor.

And Erwin can’t help himself; he lifts his hand to Levi’s face, feeling the faint rasp of stubble against his fingers as he tilts his chin upwards.

“Just one more thing, don’t look at the floor Levi.”

Levi glances up, holding his gaze for a single burning second, and the space between them is so small, the heat so great, that Erwin aches to draw him in, to close the gap once and for all.

“I’ll get a crick in my fucking neck. Tall ass.” Levi mutters, but there’s no real venom in it, and his fingers shift slightly on Erwin’s arm, the smallest caress.

“Close your eyes,” Erwin murmurs, “just trust me.”

Levi dips his head in the slightest nod, before letting his gaze settle on Erwin’s chest. All it takes is the slightest pressure on his back to draw him into the embrace and they’re moving again. And this time, this time, Levi moves with him, with all the fluidity and grace that Erwin had ever imagined. He follows effortlessly, intuitively, never pre-empting Erwin’s lead, never hesitating, attuned to the slightest signals from Erwin’s body. As they move together in increasingly complex patterns Erwin can feel the tension draining from Levi’s body until he’s moving like water, lithe and fluid in his arms. The connection is intimate, intoxicating, and it’s the most natural thing in the world to close the embrace. Erwin draws Levi in, there’s a moment of hesitation, his breath catches in his throat and then he feels Levi’s body settle against him, his head coming to rest beneath his collarbone. Erwin doesn’t need to look to know his eyes are closed as he drops his head to rest against the smooth silk of Levi’s hair. Everything else falls away until there’s nothing but the movement and the man in Erwin’s arms and the connection between them.

And then they’re still. Erwin’s feet appear to have stopped moving of their own volition, but the embrace, the connection remains, strong and unbroken as their hearts beating against each other. The stand motionless, breathing each other in, until Erwin lifts his head and slowly, deliberately, presses a single kiss into Levi’s hair. The moment stretches and Erwin waits. Waits to know if this is a beginning or an ending or something else all together.

“So what now?” Levi voice is low and quiet.

“Follow me Levi.”

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

And Erwin knows, realises that he has always known. This connection between them has always been there, Levi has always been there. Always following. He just needs to listen and to lead.

Erwin tilts his head down and places a long deep kiss on Levi’s lips. Levi leans in, following his lead.