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2013-10-04
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Soft

Summary:

Who did that man think he was, just breathing and having that much control over him? Who did he think he was to make Levi so…
Soft?
Soft, for giving in to that shitty lust in the first place and soft for wanting it. Soft, for begging and soft for being perfectly ok with it. Soft, for indulging that stupid man in the first place and soft for falling right into it.

Notes:

This is a relatively short little one shot that I decided to write and add to the collection of Eruri fics out there. Hope you enjoy!

Work Text:

Levi wasn’t a man known for being soft. Not in his appearance, trademarked by a cold unwavering expression; not in his tone, constantly firm and unchallenged; not in the way he carried himself, bold and unshakable to his very core. There was certainly nothing soft in the way he killed, nothing fragile in the way he existed.

Far from soft, Captain Levi. Everyone knew that.

Perhaps it was because he had been a thug in the old days. Perhaps that was the way he came out thirty some odd years ago. Whatever the case, the Corporal—a man who had been many things throughout his life, from a pick-pocketing young boy to a knee-capping criminal man—wasn’t soft. He didn’t break and crumble under the weight of life’s challenges; he didn’t bow to the whims of the men around him.

He sure as hell didn’t falter facing titans. How could he, when their faces looked like that?

No, there wasn’t a thing that could make Levi soft.

Well. There was one thing. A man, built like a cart horse with the determination of an ox and a look that could take everything hard and cold about Levi and melt it soft and vulnerable in an instant.

Ridiculous. Vulnerable. That man made him vulnerable.

In a way, Levi despised it. He despised how one glace sideways could weaken his knees, how a knowing smirk could tighten the fibers in his stomach.

And that voice. It glossed over like honey dripping down a comb and it made him go soft.

At first, Levi had chalked up the feeling to lust. Lust, which could make a man soft in the same instant that it made him hard. Lust, that willy wench, that demanded attention every second, every waking moment, like a depraved child.

Lust, he’d said. That’s what it was. He had a carnal desire to fill and he’d take that man for everything he was worth to satiate that beast called lust.

It had started hot and passionate. He’d confronted that man, demanded that he stop fucking with him and just fuck him plain and simple. Enough with the smirks and the looks and god damn those ‘accidental’ touches.

“Fuck me already,” he’d told the bastard.

Late nights were then filled with that—passion, and fucking. Hard into the grainy wood of an officer’s desk, no care to completely remove tight maneuver gear straps and no patience to toss off suffocating jackets and boots. Bent over or splayed out on his back, it didn’t matter which way the other decided to lay him as long he was laid into.

It was music, the sound of flesh slapping sweetly against flesh, the slick squelch of bodies pumping in and out of one another. Fluids mixed and sweat dripped leaving trails of salt and god knows what else all over his pale skin. Their voices were rarely muffled; a “for fuck’s sake Erwin shut the fuck up” was never forgotten on the Corporal’s lips.

Erwin’s resounding chuckle—because he himself was actually quite reserved in comparison to the other—always caused a flare to rise up in Levi’s face. He’d never admit to the embarrassment of being the louder of the two. He wasn’t so far gone to admit that.

Levi was content to lose himself in that ecstasy. To be held down under a hundred plus pounds of muscle and sinew and hardness that was only something that Erwin could give him; to be fucked so blindingly thoroughly that there was only one name on his lips and stars scattering in his eyes as he was filled, was pure bliss. He begged that man for the opportunity, to be left in such a state of having been thoroughly used, that he’d be forced to lay there for hours afterward, dripping and aching and grinning like a bastard at his good fortune to find such a commendable lay.  

And it was magnificent.

Those nights, long and wild, weren’t destined to last very long. Carnal, primordial urges could only be continued if you were hard and cold after all.

And that man made sure Levi didn’t stay that way for long.

Rough fucks gave way to tender kisses; deep, back breaking thrusts curved into slow, sensual rocking of hips. There was something to be said when small tokens begun to be left outside his quarters, and there was definitely something to be said when Erwin slipped one day and called him “darling.” What had been purely physical turned emotional and Levi felt himself going…

Soft. Like some smitten school girl caught up in emotion.

There were nights where he demanded fucking; demanded to be made to not feel anything unless it was to feel himself riding out the blissful wave of one orgasm after the other.

But he’d come to learn that the man he’d so willingly given his body over to wasn’t so kind. Erwin had a sadistic streak, and rather than fucking away any feelings budding within Levi he did him the honor of fucking them right into him.

No, not fucking.

Love making.

The phrase itself never appealed to Levi; you don’t make love by cleaving into another, exchanging sweat and spit and sperm. It was absurd; to think something like that could come from fucking…

But then again, Erwin had refused to fuck him. Erwin had wanted to make love to him, had he did.

It was an entirely new experience, being held the way Erwin pressed against him that first time. It was warm and tender, hot and slow. It made him writhe in a completely new form of incoherence and it made him ache in his heart.

“Erwin, Erwin, Erwin,” spilled out of his lips more often than it ever had before, and rather than haggard demands to be driven down they were delicate requests to never be let go.

It was, in a word, beautiful.

And Levi despised it, in the same way he had despised the fact that Erwin had made him so lustful to begin with. Who did that man think he was, just breathing and having that much control over him? Who did he think he was to make Levi so…

Soft?

Soft, for giving in to that shitty lust in the first place and soft for wanting it. Soft, for begging and soft for being perfectly ok with it. Soft, for indulging that stupid man in the first place and soft for falling right into it.

But that’s what he was. Soft.

It was a fortune for him, he wagered, that at least no one could find that fragile softness that laced under everything that was so hard about him. No one but that one man, who had brought out the softness in him to begin with.