Chapter Text
Eren sighed, rubbing his lips against the back of his hand to check for blood. “Honestly, I don’t understand why anyone would think it’s acceptable to use so much teeth in a kiss.”
Armin peered up at his mouth in concern. “That did look a bit rough.”
“A bit?” Eren scoffed, sweeping the money Ymir had thrown on the table before yanking him by his collar into a violent kiss. He dropped it into the large glass bowl that sat in the middle of the table, which was already halfway full—and it wasn’t even noon.
“Next up,” he heard Armin call, and shot his friend a grateful look for giving him a moment to recover from Ymir’s fangs.
Eren and Armin were working a kissing booth at Trost University’s annual Spring Carnival. It was tradition for the soccer team to host one every spring, and the players took pride in raising more money than the previous year.
The other students loved the chance to lock lips with the hottest boys on the team, paying what they wanted, and it all benefited a local charity that helped children from low-income families play soccer.
It was a rather small price to pay for such a good cause, all things considered, but Eren had drawn the short straw at the team meeting last week, and he had the somewhat painful honor of working the booth for the entire day.
He heard Armin giggle and turned his attention back to his friend in time to see Krista give him a chaste kiss on the cheek, her eyes a sparkling, crystalline blue.
“Thanks Armin,” she said, smiling when she pulled back. Armin gave her a wave as she moved on.
“Why do you get all the sweet ones?” Eren whined, hunching over to rest his face against his palm on the table.
“You catch more flies with honey,” Armin smirked, nudging Eren playfully when he saw Reiner approaching their table. “Your turn.”
“You’re dead to me,” Eren announced, taking a long sip of water before tuning his attention to the huge wrestler. It was a weirdly hot day for spring, the sun bright and punishing. Eren could feel a thin layer of sweat gathering at the back of his neck, despite the short-sleeved uniform he wore.
“Relax, Jaeger, I don’t want to kiss your ugly mug,” Reiner said, once he got close enough to their table.
“Oh thank god,” Eren breathed, thinking that he didn’t really want to deal with Reiner’s boyfriend, Bert, who was prone to jealous outbursts that usually ended in spilt blood.
Reiner laughed. “Connie wanted me to let you know that he got wrangled into helping Sasha with her booth for Future Chefs of America.”
Armin groaned, glancing down at his watch. “But my shifts over in ten minutes! I told Mikasa that I’d stop by and help her out with her martial arts demo.”
“Don’t worry,” Reiner said, putting his hands up in a calming gesture. “He said he got someone else from the team to cover.”
“Oh, perfect,” Armin said, looking relieved. “Thanks, Reiner.” The larger boy nodded his head in response, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check his messages.
“Did he say who it was?” Eren asked, hoping it wasn’t one of the obnoxious freshmen.
“No, sorry,” Reiner answered, flicking his attention back to Armin. “I’m heading back over to rec center, if you wanted company on your way to meet Mikasa.”
“That sounds great.” Armin started to gather his things together. “I actually wanted to talk to you about our physics project.”
“Tell Mika I say hey.” Eren said as he applied some balm to his lips—all this kissing was hard on his skin. Armin nodded, giving him a wave and sympathetic look.
“Good luck, Jaeger,” said Reiner, punching him on the arm. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That’s a short list,” Eren smirked, rubbing his shoulder. Reiner laughed and walked off with Armin, chatting enthusiastically about their project.
Fifteen minutes later, and Eren was close to giving up hope. Connie’s replacement had yet to show, and he was struggling to keep up with the sudden increase in demand for lip service.
A short line had formed, and Eren was forced to deal with the barely contained chaos that was the group of sorority girls that had flooded his booth.
“No one said you could leave a hickey,” Eren grumbled, rubbing the juncture between his neck and his shoulder with one hand, tearing his jersey away from someone’s claws with his other. “You’re damn vampires, the lot of you!”
The girls just giggled and twirled their long hair around their fingers. They were all similarly dressed with puffy mouths and dark eyes, and Eren had trouble telling them apart.
“No biting,” he warned for what felt like the thousandth time. When he’d kissed the last girl, thankfully a chaste kiss on the lips that didn’t last longer than five seconds, he slumped against the table and cradled his head in his hands.
“Sorry I’m late,” said a silky, sultry voice he’d recognize anywhere. Oh no, he thought. Levi.
Turning his head slowly to the side, Eren peeked up from his arms to catch Levi pulling the strap of his bag over his head and tucking it under the table. He was wearing the same green and white uniform as Eren, the material clinging to the lean muscles of his chest and stomach, the exposed, ripped muscles in his forearms gleaming in the sunlight.
Levi fucking Ackerman: captain of the soccer team, all-star striker and graduating senior, one year older than Eren. Otherwise known as the bane of Eren’s existence and the wild inferno that consumed his every waking thought until he was burning from the heat of it. Levi, who’d effortlessly carved out a space in the deepest part of him. Levi, who lit up his dreams and his fantasies, like a slow burning candle that wouldn’t ever blow out.
“Um,” Eren responded with his usual wit.
Levi turned his face in his direction, the sunlight highlighting his razor-sharp cheekbones and ink black hair, which he wore parted down the middle paired with an undercut. Silky strands the same shade as the midnight sky fell gently onto his forehead, resting against the pale, luminous splendor of his skin.
His gaze lingered on Eren’s swollen lips before he broke out into a smirk. “Having fun, brat?”
Eren didn’t have a response, so he just stared silently into Levi’s eyes, which were alight with a strange playfulness. He held back from shivering at the nickname Levi liked to scream across the soccer field, even though it sent a powerful thrill through his body.
Standing so close to the older boy, Eren felt the familiar mix of anxiety and excitement that he usually got when he played next to him in games as second forward, trailing closely behind Levi and watching his unmatched skill unfold at every turn.
After a moment, Eren glanced away to stare out at the other booths lining the field, each filled with a flurry of activity as students ate, drank, played games and lounged lazily under the bright sun. Their own booth had a merciful lull, though Eren was sure the masses would return in full force once they got wind that Levi was manning the stand.
“So,” said Levi, giving Eren a sideways look. “Who was the best out of everyone you've kissed?”
“Oh,” responded Eren, the question catching him off guard. He felt his face grow hot under Levi’s intense gaze. He’d just spent the morning kissing dozens of strangers—both girls and boys—and none of them had held an ounce of the heat that even the smallest of Levi’s gestures was capable of sparking within him.
Levi inclined one perfectly arched eyebrow, silently prompting him for a response.
“Well, Petra’s lips were really quite soft.” He scratched the back of his neck absently. “And Marco’s lip ring was definitely fun. Oh, and Annie did this little tongue flick thing that felt pretty nice.” He knew he was rambling.
“So no one got you swooning,” Levi concluded.
“Swooning?” Eren couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice, despite his nervousness around his crush. “You sound like a character from Gone with the Wind.”
Levi gave him a hard, considering look and then stepped a little closer. The sunlight illuminated the thin flecks of blue scattered across the deep grey of his irises. “Don’t tell me you’ve been on this planet for 21 years, and you’ve never felt the exquisite torture of kissing the person you’ve been wanting, desiring, for months, days, hours, for the first time.”
The second the words left Levi’s lips, the air around them thickened and tension spread in the space between their bodies like a wildfire.
Eren swallowed, feeling Levi’s breath ghosting over his face, and he watched his dark eyes dip down to track the movement of his throat. “The slow burn of their lips on yours,” he continued. “The nearly painful urgency to claim and mark, the rough tug of hands on clothes.”
As he spoke each word, Levi was turning his face up, angling his jaw just right, and slowly inching his way closer to the taller boy. “The first time you slide your tongue into the warm heat of their mouth and taste them.”
Eren couldn’t stop his lips from parting at the sensual words, Levi’s voice causing white-hot need to coil low in his gut. One of Levi’s hands had moved to rest lightly at the back of his neck, and the warm pressure made him shiver.
“Swoon,” Levi whispered, before his hand gave a sharp tug, and he closed the distance between them.
Levi’s lips brushed over his own, rough and needy, devouring him with the same all-consuming intensity he displayed on the soccer field. It left Eren feeling dizzy and breathless, and unbelievably turned on.
Moving to tangle his fingers in the hair at Eren’s nape, Levi licked his mouth open, thrusting his tongue against the space between his parted lips. He slid his tongue against Eren’s in firm, slow strokes that sent heat shuttering through his body.
All he could think of was Levi, the hard line of his body pressed against him, his scent invading his senses, earthy and masculine, reminding him of grassy fields and rain. He felt adrift and floating, on the verge of frenzy, and he fisted his hands into the smooth fabric of Levi’s uniform in a weak attempt to hold on to the last shred of his sanity. Levi was sinful underneath his lips and hands.
Maybe Levi had been on to something after all with all his talk of swooning. Before Eren could deepen the kiss further, a sharp cry to their left rang out across the field.
“Jaeger! Ackerman!” Shadis’ voice cut across the clearing, crisp and annoyed. “What are you doing?” Hanji was right on his heels, a slow smile forming on her lips.
They jumped apart quickly. Well, Eren jumped apart, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to hide his thoroughly fucked-out appearance. And it was only a kiss! Levi had calmly pulled away, as if they’d been discussing the weather, his features schooled into a blank mask. Only the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the faint tint of pink high on his cheekbones gave any indication of their previous activity.
“Giving the crowd a little taste,” Levi said smoothly, completely unruffled and meeting the gaze of their coach with practiced ease. “Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘sex sells,’ coach?”
“Yes, I’ve heard that expression,” Shadis hissed. “Contrary to what you think, Ackerman, I wasn’t born yesterday.” Eren didn’t like the knowing look he gave the two boys, and he shrank under their coach’s sharp scrutiny.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Levi mumbled, just loud enough for Shadis to hear. The older man’s shoulders tensed.
“Whatever you two get up to on your own time is none of my business,” said Shadis, grimacing and waving his hands as if to dispel the mental image from his mind. “But this booth is for charity, so stop fooling around.”
Eren thought his face would melt off with how hotly it was burning. “Oh no,” he spluttered. “We don’t, I mean, it’s not like—”
“It’s just a little kissing.” Levi spoke over Eren, not bothering to address Shadis’ comment—or correct it, either. “In case you haven’t noticed, this is a kissing booth.” He jerked a thumb at the sign hanging over their modest booth, which read “Trost Soccer Team Kissing Booth” in plain black letters.
“And hell is just a sauna,” Shadis intoned bitterly.
“Everybody calm down,” quipped Hanji, one of the athletic directors, who had been silently observing the exchange. “Besides, it looks like their little advertisement worked.” Sure enough, their heated kiss had drawn a crowd to form at the front of their booth.
Shadis turned his glare on Hanji. “What?” she asked innocently. “It is for charity.” And with that, Hanji was tugging Shadis along, throwing a wink over her shoulder at Eren and Levi. “Don’t have too much fun, boys!”
“No more freebies!” Shadis growled, before Hanji yanked him to the ticket booth.
When they were gone, Levi gave Eren a knowing smirk before turning his attention to the growing line in front of them.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” he said, his silky tone back. “There’s no need for pushing! We aren’t going anywhere.”
He tilted his head back in Eren’s direction. “Right, Eren?”
In that moment, he looked to Eren more like a predator than a captain, and the way he said his name sent shivers down his spine. His lips still tingled from Levi’s hot mouth sliding over his own, and he couldn’t help stare at the other boy’s lips when they formed the shape of his name.
This was going to be a very, very long afternoon. Exquisite torture, indeed.