Chapter Text
1.
It’s not that Levi particularly minds graveyard shift, per say.
The whole 10 PM to 6 AM thing isn’t a nuisance for someone who wears the word nocturnal on their sleeve. The night’s easier on people like Levi - less people, less traffic, less likely to land yourself in some serious shit because you can't keep your mouth shut around bad drivers in giant ass trucks (it’s not his fault they’re all trying to compensate for something.) It’s quieter, which eases the constant migraine drumming away at his temples. Besides, having his shift end at 6 AM means he gets to beat the early morning breakfast rush. He considers himself a very blessed person.
Levi doesn’t quite see the point in having a 24 hour diner when McDonald’s is literally across the street (Lord knows they get more business than their dinky little fuck of a restaurant), but Denny’s has that brand name of “place to go to at 2 AM when you need to have your monthly existential crisis”. So, Levi finds himself there most nights, scrubbing and re-scrubbing the tables and floors until his fingers are raw, just for something to do. There’s only a few other souls that work this shift with him and even they run out of things to say quickly, what with their incessant need to fill the silence and all.
Levi can tolerate all of his co-workers just fine, but Petra’s the only one he genuinely likes. At least she knows when it’s time to shut her mouth and just help Levi do his job in his perfectly content quiet. He’s pretty sure her and the night chef, Aururo, have started hooking up, though, and the last thing he wants to hear is what sex tip she read in Cosmo this week. People are too fooled by her cute and charming demeanor.
Eld’s the busboy that Levi always scolds for not wiping the tables down good enough, but he gives Levi these little smirks that makes him think he’s really not all that bothered by a man half a foot shorter than him. Gunther’s the host they have working these damned hours, and the poor guy’s always left standing at his podium looking like he’d rather eat his own shit than have to do this any longer, so he’s the first to jump at the opportunity when the door chimes, signaling actual honest to God customers. Some night’s Levi’s sure him and his co-workers are the only souls left on the entire planet, so it’s pretty neat when he’s proven wrong.
It’s raining cats and dogs outside, so when a group of kids no older than early 20’s come stumbling in, Levi’s not surprised, but still annoyed, when they bring a whole slew of rainwater and mud with them. Levi’s not in the mood to clean up after these assholes, but at least it’ll give him something to do when they make their mess of a table and leave.
Besides weird hipster guys, kids like this are the only people that come in at this hour, so Levi’s already steeling himself up for the onslaught of drunken laughs and half-baked orders that don’t make any damn sense. He doesn't recognize any of the faces that come through this time, which is bittersweet - on one hand, this could mean that another group of party kids found their little Denny’s and he’ll have to deal with them on top of the other ones that show up every now and again from here on out - but on the other, here’s a slight kindling of hope that they won’t be that bad.
Unfortunately, Levi isn’t that optimistic of a guy.
There’s only four fresh faces in total, which makes that slight kindle of hope expand just a little bit, but the moment the kid with the dark hair shakes the rainwater out of it like he’s a dog on the loose, all that hope is sucked up in a black hole that’s somewhere over Levi’s heart. His life is so hard.
Levi lingers behind the counter with Petra, eyeing the quartet with a wrinkled nose as Gunther leads them to a booth way in the furthest back reaches of the diner. Bless that boy’s heart. Aururo’s busy booting up the oven he hasn’t turned on all night, grumbling to himself about having to scrub it out after these brats leave.
Petra pokes Levi in the side; he winces and yanks away from her, turning his glare to her with no shame. She looks at him with those amber eyes wide in expectation, and look at her gettin’ him all poetic. She doesn’t even know the gifts she has.
“Don’t procrastinate because you’re intimidated,” she chides, hand on her hip. “Go take their order.”
“Don’t be snide, Petra,” Levi drawls. “I’m not intimidated by kids who don’t have anything better to do than make a mess at,” he checks the watch adorning his wrist for a quick second. “Two in the morning.”
Petra turns away from him, but he can see the smirk in her profile. “You’re intimidated by anyone who is obnoxious and tall.”
“Wash your mouth out for that lie,” Levi sniffs,turning around to pick up a stray bottle of hand soap by the sink and pushing it into her hands. He leaves her answering laugh behind him.
Levi takes his merry sweet time tracking down four of the plastic-backed menu’s from behind Gunther’s podium. He’s absolutely not procrastinating because he’s intimidated, disgusting, why would he be intimidated by college-age kids covered in rainwater (speaking of, they're making the booth seats all slick - he hopes one of them falls). No, he takes his time because kids like this don’t deserve grade-A customer service. It’s not like they’d tip him anyway.
“Alright,” Levi clears his throat when he reaches the table, where the only not-obnoxiously loud blond kid is hushing the boy with the poorly done undercut. “Welcome to Denny’s, I’ll be your server this evening, morning, 2 AM, whatever. Anything to drink for you br - kids?”
The boy with the dark hair, curling against his forehead now as it dries from the rain, squints at the menu Levi handed to him with hazy eyes. Levi was right to make the assumption that these were party kids. “I just really want some bacon,” he says, pointing to one of the glorified pictures printed on the menu.
“Dude, yes,” says the kid with the bad undercut, turning to Levi with an exaggerated grin. “Can we just get a whole plate of bacon?”
“No,” the blond one hisses, putting a hand on Undercut’s shoulder as if to settle him down. “We’ll all just just order the regular breakfast dishes.” He looks at Levi with an apology written in his features, like he’s trying to convey that he’s sorry for his friend’s behavior with his eyes and the set of his mouth. Ah, this must be the sober friend.
“But, Armin -” Undercut starts, but is cut off by the blond - Armin - immediately, who tells Levi just to get three glasses of water and “some coffee, please”. Levi’s assuming that one’s for him. Good luck, kid.
By the time Levi hands over their full fledged order of breakfast regulars, complete with extra bacon, the quartet is practically drooling all over themselves. In fact the moment Levi sets the plate down in front of the kid with the dark hair and, admittedly, rather pretty eyes, is tearing into it like he’s never eaten a day in his life. Levi thinks that his earlier analogy of him being a dog on the loose wasn't too far off, considering the way he’s gnawing on his bacon.
All in all they’re not as rowdy as Levi expected them to be and as the clock ticks closer to 3:00 am he’s deciding that this shift is one of the better ones thus far. The thought comes too soon, because the moment Levi’s handing over the bill, the dark haired kid goes as green as his eyes.
“Eren,” the girl next to him says with concern, putting a hand gently on one of his shoulders.
“Oi, you okay-” Levi barely has time to ask before his entire life is coming to a close, because surely having a drunken teenager throw up an entire plate of food all over your shoes must be Hell at its cruelest.
“Duuuuuuuuuuuuuude,” Undercut snickers in the silence that follows.
“Jean,” Armin hisses, standing up immediately, a measly pile of used napkins in his hands. “I’m so sorry, sir,” he says to Levi, hovering around him. “We’ll clean it up, I’m sorry -”
“Don’t,” Levi says, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and taking one long, deep breath to keep hurling himself because holy shit, this is probably the most disgusting thing that’s ever happened to him, Jesus fucking Christ. So much for the “one of the better shifts”, fucking hell. He doesn’t even have the bravery to step out of his shoes, he’s so grossed out.
“Oh man,” Eren says, putting the back of his hand to his mouth. “Shit.”
Luckily for Levi, Petra comes swooping in with a mop in her hands, and it’s easy to tell by the slight wrinkle in her nose that she's trying her damned hardest not to break out in hysterical giggles. He gives her a sharp-eyed glare, just so she’s aware that he can see right through her otherwise straight-faced exterior.
She avoids his gaze, “It’s alright, we’ll clean it up.”
“I’m really sor-”
“Just go,” Levi snaps, probably a little too harshly, but to be fair, the kid just fucking vomited all over him. He thinks he’s earned his right to be a dick.
When the group of kids stumbles out, bill paid but no tip, Levi considers sending his boss a resignation letter.
2.
Levi’s still reeling from a particularly bad dream about a hoard of toddlers vomiting all over him (non-stop, all night) so when he stumbles into work the next day (night, whatever), he nearly has a heart attack when he sees none other than infamous Mr. Can’t Hold Down His Dinner settled in one of the booths.
He’s here without his entourage of friends with him - Levi’s a little disappointed to see that the sober blond one isn’t there with him. Now who’s gonna keep a leash on this - whatever his name is. Eric or something.
Levi skirts around the boundaries of the dining area to sneak into the kitchen to clock in, avoiding any wandering gazes. He wonders how much of his share of lousy tips he’ll have to give up to make Petra take care of the kid, because he’s absolutely not interested in another round of Vomit All Over Your Denny’s Server, even if all parties sober this time around.
Petra’s lingering in the back too, standing a little too close to the chef, Auruo, and looking as guilty as a kid with their hand stuck in a cookie jar. Levi’s so grateful he didn’t step in a moment sooner, because surely if he had he’d be bleaching his own brain right now. (Technically, he does anyway, what with inhaling all those chemical cleaning fumes all the time.)
“Are you gonna take care of our only customer?” Levi asks by way of greeting, giving Petra a pointed look to convey that he knows exactly what’s going on. But he’s feeling generous today and won’t mention it, at least not in front of her boytoy.
“I did, actually,” Petra clears her throat, straightening her apron. “But he said he wanted to give you a personal apology.”
“Classy,” Levi gives props to the kid. At least he has the decency to want to apologise to Levi’s face, but he’s still feeling as hesitant as before. He’s not exactly big on giving people - especially strangers - the benefit of the doubt.
“You should go accept it,” Petra encourages, seeing right through Levi. Damn. Every time. “He did look really sorry.”
“He better be,” Levi snorts, fastening his apron tight around his waist. He procrastinates over it, retying it a couple more times before Petra’s impatient stare gets the best of him (makes his skin crawl, really) and he leaves the kitchen with a huff, ignoring the triumphant grin he sees from Petra out of the corner of his eye.
He swings by Gunther’s booth to pick up a menu, gathering up his courage (shoving down equal amounts of disgust and paranoia) to face the guy that hurled all over him. Gunther catches his moment of weak hesitation and snickers. “Go on, Levi, he won’t bite.”
“Oi, shut it,” Levi snaps, stalling once more to straighten his already immaculate apron. “Maybe I feel bad for being such a dick to the kid.”
“You? Feel bad?” Gunther laughs again.
“Yeah, alright, I get it,” Levi waves him off, starting to walk away. “I’m heartless. Shut up, I have an order to take.”
Gunther sends him off with a salute as Levi takes incredibly slow, molasses-thick steps towards that Eric kid’s table. He’s bent over a newspaper, eyebrows scrunched together and nose scrunched up as he stares intently at the tiny font. There’s a series of red circles littered across it; in his other hand, he holds a cell phone with an empty search engine open, save for their local zipcode. He’s so intently focused that he doesn’t notice Levi, even as the latter places the menu on the table with a thunk.
“Hey,” Levi says, impatiently tapping his pen against the tabletop. When the kid glances up at him, he takes an automatic step back, already searching his face for signs of vomiting. There isn’t a tint of green in his tanned skin, but Levi knows better than to relax immediately.
“Oh, hey!” the kid says, folding his news paper up and setting his phone to the side. “I’m glad you’re here. I just wanted to say sorry for, y’know -” he blushes, a deep pink colour coating his cheeks. “Throwing up on you. That was gross. I’m sorry.”
Levi blinks a couple times. “It’s okay,” he relents (mostly because the kid seems sober this time around and he doesn’t feel he’s in the splash zone for any barf.) “So are you gonna order or -”
“Yeah, oh man, I also wanted to say sorry because I don’t think any of us left you a tip, so sorry about that-”
“Listen, it’s fine, just order -”
“I could just double up your tip tonight, but I’m kind of broke, so there’s only so much -”
Holy shit. “Oi, Eric, whatever your name is, just order, I have things to do. Here’s your menu. Order a drink and I’ll come back around later.”
The kid stares at him for a beat too long, a surprised “o” to the shape of his mouth. “Eri - Oh.” He blinks. “It’s not Eric, oh my god, it’s Eren.”
“Same difference.”
“It is not,” Eren scrunches his eyebrows together again. “That’s like me calling you -” he leans in to squint at Levi’s name tag. “Liam.”
Levi clicks his pen against his notepad impatiently, “Whatever, just order.”
Eren waves him off and ends up ordering the same thing he did last time, which raises all kinds of suspicion, but he seems in the clear as he sits at his booth, bent over his newspaper and nibbling at his bacon. His plate is practically untouched when Levi passes him thirty minutes later, sweeping the floor.
Levi doesn’t particularly find Eren fascinating or interesting in any way, but he must admit he’s a little curious as to why he’s here in the middle of the night, by himself with only a newspaper and a surprisingly silent cell phone for company. Levi watches him from the corner of his eye as he tugs at his hair and flips his newspaper back to the first page to continue glaring at it like it’s personally offended him somehow. “Shit,” Eren whispers, leaning back in his seat. As he does, he seems to notice Levi, who quickly glances down at the floor, focusing on the bristles of his broom.
“You don’t happen to be hiring, do you?” Eren asks, a little hope in his voice.
“Not at all,” Levi answers without looking up. “Nice try.”
“Damn,” Eren sighs. “Worth a shot.” He pauses. “Do you know anywhere that is?”
“Jesus, do I look like an employment center,” Levi snips, but feels marginally guilty when Eren widens those too- green eyes. But not enough to warrant an apology; after all, Eren threw up on him just yesterday, which is pretty much an ultimate sin in the Book of Levi.
“Sorry,” Eren says, sheepish. “I didn't mean to bother you.”
“Yeah,” Levi answers back and continues his rounds.
He’s taking Eren’s empty plates away (who won’t look at him now that Levi’s made an ass of himself) and carrying them to the kitchen when Petra comes up beside him, an accusatory look on her face. “Are you being nice to him?”
“He’s a paying customer, of course I am,” Levi lies, backing into the swinging door of the kitchen to open it. “I’m amazing at customer service. It’s why I’m shift manager.”
Petra rolls her eyes. “He looks like a kicked puppy.”
“He’ll survive,” Levi scoffs, depositing the dishes in the kitchen sink. Aururo looks at him like it’s his fault they're there, which is bullshit, because Levi’s going to be the one washing them later anyway.
And Eren does survive - even though he doesn’t look Levi exactly in the eye for the rest of the time he’s there, he pays his bill in full and leaves a hefty tip, and Levi thinks maybe he really can forgive him for vomiting on his shoes.
3.
Eren’s absent for the rest of the week and Levi doesn’t think about him for one second over the weekend (not even when he’s buying a new pair of work shoes to replace his ruined ones), so he’s caught entirely off guard when he walks into work a bit late on Monday and sees none other than the green-eyed fucker sitting in a booth with a fresh newspaper in his hands.
Levi actually backtracks a little just to make sure it’s him because he’s still entirely baffled as to why college-age kids are reading old-fashioned newspapers at a Denny’s in the dead of night. It’s like he’s one of those sad, old men trapped in a teenager’s body.
Eren looks up as if he can feel Levi’s stare; the latter quickly ducks into the kitchen, hiding his face, and clocks in, ignoring Petra’s awaiting smirk. “You’re late,” she says to him, but he knows that’s not what her smirk is for.
“Oh no,” Levi deadpans. “A whole five minutes late. Hope Erwin doesn’t fire me.”
“I do,” Aururo coughs into his hand, rather conspicuously.
“Shush,” Petra quiets her obnoxious boytoy, then turns back to Levi. She’s carrying a notepad in her hand and waves it towards Levi in a gesture for him to take it. “You’re in luck, I haven’t taken his order yet.”
“What a joyous occasion,” Levi sighs, practically snatching the notepad from Petra’s hand; she’s not all that bothered by it. She’s used to Levi’s rough mannerisms at this point. He rolls his eyes at the smirk she’s not wiping off her dumb face and marches out of the kitchen, aware he’s acting more akin to a petulant child than anything else. When passing the podium that Gunther stands at, the host snickers, “Your favourite customer is here.”
“Har, har,” Levi replies sarcastically. Damn, everyone’s just taking a knock on him today.
Eren is quicker to look up this time when Levi stands at his table, notepad in his hand and pen poised. He seems to be over Levi’s rudeness from the night before, making eye contact and even offering a small smile. “Hey, I thought I saw you come in.”
“I was running late,” Levi says. “What do you want?”
“Coffee,” Eren answers. “I’m exhausted today. Tonight. The next day?” He checks the watch adorning his wrist. “No, tonight.”
Levi rolls his eyes and leaves to fetch Eren’s coffee; when he returns, he asks, “Why are you here so late if you’re tired, then?” before he has a chance to catch himself.
Eren takes the coffee mug from Levi gratefully, who watches in horror as Eren dumps a bucket load of cream in and only one packet of sugar. Disgusting - clearly if you’re going to use that much cream you should balance it out with equal amounts of sugar. That’s basic coffee etiquette. “I just needed somewhere quiet.”
“At almost eleven at night?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “There’s libraries, y’know. I’m pretty sure their MO is being open during the day.”
Eren laughs around the lip of his coffee mug. “I live with three other people, we have one car, they work, I don’t,” he tilts his head left and right with each comma in his sentence, finishing it off with a shrug. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Hm.”
Eren looks at Levi sheepishly as he gives his order and Levi leaves his table; not that he has anywhere else to go, but that table over there looked like it needed a good scrubbing and he’s not going to let his curiosity about Eren stop him from doing his job. Not that he has any real curiosity about him. Yeah, he’s just bored. That’s it.
Levi’s just finished making the tabletop shine so bright he can see his own reflection when Gunther perks up; more of a signifier that a new customer has arrived than anything else, really. Levi glances over to see a middle-aged man, with patchy stubble on his chin and dark hair shot through with grey. He’s not anything special, but he’s stumbling as bad as Eren did the first time he made a trip to their little Denny’s, and isn’t that just dandy.
Gunther’s excitement turns into concern quickly, but when the man seemingly argues about “you can’t refuse me service, I’m perfectly coherent” he escorts him to a table on the opposite end of the diner.
“Gross,” Levi complains and contemplates making Petra go deal with him before deciding that as annoying as she, she doesn’t deserve that. But if this fucker vomits on him, he swears this time he will definitely put in his resignation letter.
The man is just sober enough to get an order out, which just makes Levi roll his eyes the minute his back is turned. When he’s handing over Eren’s plate of food, he sees the kid scowling across the way. “Jeez,” he comments, eyes fixed on the drunk guy.
“It’s you,” Levi says like smartass he is. “Keep up your ‘coming into Denny’s drunk’ thing and that’s your future.”
“Hey,” Eren pouts in an exaggerated manner. “There’s no reason to be mean.”
Not five minutes after Levi serves the fucked up dude, he calls him back, complaining about his eggs not being cooked the right way. Levi doesn’t like Auruo much, but he’s never one to fuck up an order (and neither is Levi, thank you very much), so he says back, “Are you sure you didn’t accidently order the wrong thing?”
“Excuse me?” The man says like Levi’s just cursed him out. “Who’s the customer here? Me. And you’re the server. So maybe you should treat me with respect. I have no problem having a word with your manager.”
Levi’s eye twitches. The only thing he wants to treat this guy with is a fist down his throat, but he breathes through his nose and says, “Sorry.” He considers adding a sir but his pride wins out in the end and instead he says. “I’ll get you a new plate.”
To stall time before he has to go back around to King Fuckhead of the Universe, he swings back by Eren’s table to fill up the coffee he’s barely touched. Eren looks troubled and glances at the drunk guy again. “Is he being an asshole to you?”
“Nothing I’m not used to,” Levi replies. “At least he didn’t throw up on me.”
Eren scowls but says nothing. There’s no further incidents (not even when the guy says thank you very sarcastically as Levi literally gives him the same thing he had last time), at least not until a (tipless) bill is paid and the guy’s stumbling his way out. Levi’s thinking about what a relief it is - after all, it could’ve been a lot worse - when shoulders are bumped and everything Levi’s holding goes crashing to the ground.
Levi thinks he’ll probably shove a fist up the dude’s ass instead, but the thought is gone when suddenly he’s grabbed roughly by the shoulder, hard enough to leave a potential bruise. And doesn’t that just piss him the fuck off - he doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll lose his job over the drunk guy who’s spitting in his face about “watching where he’s going”. He’s already calculating just how he can take the bastard down when a hand that isn’t his is grabbing the collar of the drunk man’s shirt.
“Hey,” Eren appears from nowhere, throttling the guy held in his grasp. Levi holds shock still for a fraction of a second, caught entirely off guard. “You want someone to hit, how about we take this outside.”
“Eren, don’t,” Levi says, thawing out, and puts an arm on Eren’s arm. “Son of a bitch ain’t worth it.”
Eren looks at Levi with wide eyes and loosens his grip; the drunk dude slithers out like a damn snake and jumps back, face red with fury. “You bet I’ll be calling corporate on this place,” he proclaims before marching out, taking all the fucks Levi gives with him.
“Good riddance,” Levi quips before turning back to Eren, who is standing there with shaking hands and staring at Levi like maybe he’s just a little bit scared. “You okay?”
“Fine, sorry,” Eren rubs his face with one of his hands. “Sorry, I just fucking hate people like that. Are you alright?”
Levi rubs his shoulder. “It’s nothing. You know, I could’ve handled that guy.”
Eren cracks a grin. “You’re like five feet tall, you totally couldn’t.”
“I’m five three, thanks. Thanks,” he repeats.
“You’re welcome.”
Levi’s entirely fine with putting the entire incident out of his head (he fears if he dwells on it too long it’ll fuck him up in all kinds of ways), but then Petra has to go and say some shit like, “Eren’s practically your knight in shining armour”, and Eren has Levi fucked up anyways without even trying.
4.
Levi’s never had to fight his way through a crowd just to get to the front door of his place of employment, but he supposes there’s a first for everything.
There’s a burst of initial confusion when he sees an endless stream of teenagers pouring out of their mommy and daddy’s cars in the parking lot of his Denny’s, but as soon as the bland tuxedos and shimmering, multicolored dresses register he simply thinks to himself, oh no. High school dances are bittersweet - on one hand they end up getting a shitton of business, which does wonders for his achingly empty tip collection jar at home, but there’s also the fact that it’s all self-entitled teenagers. Prom’s fucking expensive, so of course the one’s that are going are the ones who have it all.
He nearly steps on the end of some girl’s long pink dress trying to get inside; her date, he’s assuming, calls out with a , “Hey, no cutting.”
Levi stares at him, glances down at the uniform he’s wearing, and blinks back up with an eyebrow raised, hoping this shitfuck gets the message. The pimply teenager scowls at Levi before seemingly understanding and looking away without an apology. God, he hopes Petra gets his table cause otherwise he might fight the brat.
Once inside, he sees an elated Gunther at his podium, handing out menus and leading people to their seats at the speed of light. At least one of them is having fun. “Busy, huh?” Levi says as he passes him.
“It’s great,” Gunther beams.
Levi’s nearly in the kitchen when, against his better judgement (and more of what’s starting to be a habit than anything else) he glances towards the booth Eren’s starting to claim as his regular and is almost offended when he sees him there. Eren seems to be taking a great interest in the busyness of the restaurant, and Levi swears that’s a smirk on his face.
Inside the kitchen he finds Petra with her arms full, hair in a loose, messy ponytail that’s threatening to come undone. Upon seeing Levi, the look of almost-panic on her face melts to relief. “Thank God,” she says. “We’re swamped. Auruo thought about calling someone in to help out in the kitchen.”
Levi peeks out of the kitchen door. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Call Moblit.” He rethinks it. “Actually, Moblit’s shit with stress, call Mike. Fuck. I hate school dances.”
“It’s prom, too,” Auruo punctuates, waving his spatula in the air. “You should tell your boyfriend not to hog a whole booth to himself.”
“Sorry, my what,” Levi asks, but it’s lost in Petra’s stutter as she ushers him out the door. He’s about to drill her on what exactly she’s been whispering to Auruo after their midnight fucks as she directs him towards the tables whose orders still need to be taken. It’s gonna be a long night.
Levi finds himself rushing back and forth between tables at a speed to match Gunther’s and rightfully ignores the smirk Eren throws his way every time he goes zipping by him. He already has his plates cleared and Levi’s contemplating forcibly kicking him out but he’s too caught up trying to keep up with the after-prom rush to really attempt it.
Eren must not have much to do cause Levi makes it all the way to his lunch break (or, whatever you want to call it in the middle of the night) with the damn kid still there, a laptop in place of his cell phone with what looks to be Craigslist open. Damn, he must really be desperate if he’s going to Craigslist to go job hunting.
There’s technically unspoken rules about employee dining but fuck it, Levi’s shift manager and he can eat wherever he damn well pleases, and it’s absolutely not because he’s curious as to why Eren’s still fucking there. That’s definitely not the reason why, as soon as it quiet down enough that he can eat his shitty Auruo-made pancakes in peace, he elects to sit in the seat across from Eren’s.
There’s something a little less smirky and a little more smiley when Eren looks up at him. “You must be making hella tips tonight.”
Levi turns two little cups of maple syrup over onto his pancakes, making sure they’re thoroughly soaked. “I don’t get paid enough to cater to impatient, self-entitled high schoolers.”
Eren laughs, closing the lid of his laptop and carefully setting it aside. “Come on, prom’s a night for good memories. You can’t tarnish it by being a grumpy waiter.”
“I don’t know what kind of prom experience you had, but nobody I know has good memories of that shit.” Levi takes a sip of his coffee. “It’s my job to keep up that tradition for these kids.”
“My prom was great,” Eren boasts. “My ex-girlfriend and I got drunk and bailed and then we nearly fell off an overpass.”
Levi glowers at Eren’s gleeful smile. “That’s dangerous.”
“I’m a dangerous guy.” Ah, and there’s that smirk again.
Levi clears his throat and dutifully ignores Eren’s remark. He points a pancake-covered fork at Petra, who is smiling tightly at a group of girls huddled at a table; one of them has tear-streaked mascara all down their face. “I went to prom with Petra.”
“Really?” Eren widens his eyes and looks back and forth between the two of them for a moment. “You’re cute together.”
“We’re not a thing,” Levi covers quickly. “Brief high school sweethearts, but that shit didn’t pan out.” Not that he’s bitter or anything.
Eren’s eyes seem to brighten, but that’s probably just a light above their heads flickering; Levi even glances up to make sure it is, but all the bulbs hold steady. Damn. “That sucks,” Eren goes on to say, but doesn’t seem all that sympathetic about it.
Levi shrugs one shoulder. “She’s moved on.” He makes a show of glancing over each other before leaning in and whispering. “She’s actually fucking the chef.”
“No way,” Eren cries, laughing; as he does, his nose scrunches up and it’s just about the cutest damn thing Levi’s ever seen in his life - not that he’d ever admit that, of course. “That’s like, Grey’s Anatomy: Denny’s Edition.”
“Don’t talk shit about Grey’s Anatomy,” Levi says, pointing his butterknife at Eren mock-threateningly.
“You’re not actually into that, are you?” Eren accuses, nose scrunching up for an entirely different reason this time. It’s equally cute, however. No, wait. Fuck.
“There’s nothing wrong with having a penchant for medical dramas,” Levi sniffs. Opting for a subject change, he gestures to the laptop tucked under Eren’s arm. “Any luck with your job hunting?”
“Nah,” Eren sighs in obvious defeat. “I tried looking on Craigslist, but all they want on there are camboys. I’ve moved on from that life.” He snickers at Levi’s answering expression. “I’m kidding, by the way.”
“It’s none of my business what you do in your spare time,” Levi shrugs again. “Man’s gotta make a living.”
“Think I could make good money doing that?” Eren asks, making a show of gesturing at his chest.
Levi nearly chokes on his pancake but recovers before Eren can (hopefully) take notice. “Sure, if they’re into twinks.”
“Okay, I am absolutely not a twink,” Eren defends, flexing an arm. “You’re way more twinky than me.”
Levi pretends to think about it for a moment. “Touche.” He throws a napkin over his remaining pancakes and brushes his hands off. “The others are getting on my ass about you hogging a booth, by the way. You should probably order something else.” It’s an exaggeration, but he gets a kick out of the look on Eren’s face.
“But what’s the point if you’re not my waiter?”
Levi narrows his eyes at Eren’s cheeky smile before standing, taking his plate with him. “Wait, where are you going?” Eren starts to protest. “Aren’t you on your lunch break? You just got here.”
Damn, he’s practically pouting. “It’s too busy to have the luxury of a 30 minute meal break. Sorry.” He pauses. “Maybe next time.”
“I’m counting on it,” Eren promises.
5.
It’s not unusual for Eren not to show up on a day - Levi tries not to make a habit to even look for him. He’s not obsessed enough that he keeps track of which days Eren’s going to be there or not, or even which times on which days. Wait no, he means he’s not obsessed at all. Right.
It is unusual, however, to have Eren show up approximately 20 minutes before Levi’s shift ends in the earliest hours of the morning, when the sunrise has begun and paints the entire dining area in pinks and golds. For people like Levi, sunrise means bed time.
One of the employees on day shift, Nana-something-or-another, brought it upon themselves to show up to work 15 minutes early, and so just as Levi leaves the kitchen, seeing Eren somewhere to the right of his usual seat and gearing up to go talk to them, she swoops right in to take his order. Levi halts, and if he wasn’t a proud man, it’d probably be embarrassing. He does feel a rash of annoyance, though.
Levi squints as Eren smiles up at Nanaba, but jealousy is absolutely not in his Catalogue of Few Emotions Levi Ackerman Can Access, so he turns on his heel and heads back into the kitchen, figuring he’ll piss away the end of his shift scrubbing all the dishes that Eld’s shitty at washing.
“What do you look so sour about?” Petra teases when she catches Levi scrubbing away at a particularly stubborn spot of food stuck to a dish. “Is it because Eren didn’t show up?”
“As if,” he snorts. “He’s here, anyway.”
“What?” She peeks out over the counter to get a glimpse. “This late? Well, early.”
Levi shrugs a shoulder.
“You’re pouting,” Petra pokes his side; he nearly slams the dish in his hand over her head on reflex, but catches himself in time. Damn her.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not a child,” Levi says, indigent, before turning the tap off and pulling the rubber gloves off his hands. “It’s time for us to clock out anyway.”
“Already?” Petra jokes. “We were having so much fun, shift leader Levi.”
She skips out ahead of him, Aururo trailing after her like the lovesick puppy dog he’s slowly morphing into. Levi takes another moment to shrug on his jacket, cursing the cold weather that’s sure to sting his cheeks and nose like a swarm of bees the moment he steps outside. He nods to Nanaba on his way out because as annoyed as he is, he’s still damn good to his co-workers.
Levi thinks maybe (childishly, damn it) he can get away without Eren noticing him, but in the end he’s the one that makes the round trip to swing by his booth. “Oh, dude,” Eren says, visibly brightening when Levi nudges a knee against his to get his attention. Guess he can’t blame it on overhead lights, after all. “I totally thought I missed you!”
“Almost,” Levi confesses. “I’m heading out right now. Just thought I’d say hi.”
“You are?” Eren frowns, then begins shoveling the rest of his eggs in his mouth at a speed that’s almost alarming. Levi wonders if he’ll choke. He actually kind of hopes not, which is a surprise. “Here,” Eren goes on, mouth stuffed full. He stands clumsily and throws a few bills on the table. “Lemme walk you out.”
“You don’t have to,” Levi says. “I have to walk way down the main road for the bus stop, so -”
“No, come on,” Eren swallows, stepping out from the booth to wave a hand at Levi. “I could use the exercise.”
Levi’s not really opposed to taking a walk with Eren, and seeing him outside of the workplace, ‘cause at this point Levi’s concerned Eren’s just going to be another one of those work things that blend right into the backdrop of routine. It’s weird that that’s something that actually concerns him. How petty. Eren makes him so petty. He feels he ought to hate him for that. He wonders why he doesn’t.
Outside, the air is just as cold as Levi thought it’d be and he quells a shiver. Once they’ve set their pace on the sidewalk, Eren keeping stride with Levi, a backpack slung over his shoulders, Levi says, “So why did you show up so late, anyway.”
“Oh,” Eren rubs the back of his head; it could just be the chilly morning air, but his cheeks go a little pink. “I’m finally starting classes at the community college. Full-time.”
“Really?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “Congrats.”
“Thanks,” Eren smiles. “I’m just - y’know, trying to get my life together. I don’t wanna be doing CraigsList jobs forever.”
Oh. Oh no. “Go to school. Don’t end up like me.”
“You don’t just love your job?” Eren jokes.
“Not at all.”
“Not even your customers?” Eren nudges Levi’s shoulder with his own (although, it takes a little stooping on his part to do so, what with the height gap and all). Levi elects not to answer his question, staring resolutely ahead, eyes fixated on the blue bus stop sign rapidly approaching.
“Do you ride the bus every day?” Eren asks when they get there, standing awkwardly in a waiting silence.
“Yes,” Levi answers. “The drivers in this city are God-awful idiots, they got all of their licences out of a Cracker Jack box. I’m not driving in this town.”
Eren laughs one of those blessed laughs of his - the nose scrunch one that Levi thinks he’s starting to get a little too fond of. “I don’t blame you.” He points to the bus stopped at the streetlight down the way. “That yours?”
Levi squints towards the distance. “Huh, it’s actually on time for once.”
“I’m your lucky charm,” Eren says, almost proud of himself as he puts a hand to his chest. “I’ll be sure to show up more mornings, so you don’t have to wait an hour for a city bus to take you home.”
“Sure,” Levi relents with a scoff. As the bus pulls up, Levi turns to say his goodbyes, but Eren has his arms open like he’s waiting for something.
“Don’t I get a hug?” No fucking way.
“You didn’t just say that, right now,” Levi stares at him. “You’re like one of those stereotypical white boys, holy shit.”
“Okay, that’s not fair, you’re more white than I am, I’m sure,” Eren replies, arms still held wide. “I’m clearly Salvadoran. Okay, half-Salvadoran. I’m only half white, I bet you’re full loaf Wonderbread.”
“That’s racist.”
“Oh my God,” Eren says, just as the bus doors schik open. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging.”
Levi swallows down the pride that’s always stopping him from doing anything and awkwardly gives Eren a stiff, one-armed hug; he’s nearly enveloped in Eren’s arms as they close around him briefly, and he thinks that Eren’s body heat is a stark contrast against the cold air.
“Don’t crash the bus,” is what Eren sends Levi off with; when the warmth of Eren’s hug lingers for the rest of the ride home, Levi kind of wishes it would.