It had been two whole years since Levi had left with Hanji, Erwin and Petra for war. Two whole years of dreaded terror for the boy, waking up in adrenaline and sweat, of checking the floor before the door for any sign of that letter he had nightmares to see.

Two long, painful years, where icy terror and dread had perpetually lived like a live thing nestled cold, thick, writhing and heavy in his gut. Two long, painful years of longing and loneliness, each day without glimmering silver eyes to brighten his morning, those rushed kisses in the bathrooms between classes, those rare nights he could have his boyfriend's warm petite body curled perfectly into his own (like corresponding pieces of a jigsaw puzzle), those embraces and jokes and conversations, the lack of it all was a sharp pull at his heart and chest that left him pained, vulnerable and breathless. It had hurt all the more as he'd gotten flashes of him everywhere at first, like a widower her deceased husband: the waft of his cologne from brief time to time, the sensation, tingling, phantom sensation of his lips and hands on him, his corporeal form sliding past him sometimes on the way to school, the whisper of 'Eren, I love you' ringing into his ear before he fell into restless sleep. And he'd only been with him two months before he'd left-only two months to appreciate and indulge himself in his new beloved! They had never made love, never even been on a date, and that was few of the regrets that weighed heavy on his insides, and something making him all the more unwilling and agonised to think that Levi was out there and might not come back: in terrible conditions, right now, and he wasn't even sure if he okay, if he was injured or unharmed, weeping or his usual dry-eyed self, if he was thinking of him as much as he thought of him... And oh God, he hoped so... He hoped Levi was all the more encouraged to come back home when he thought of his face...

He drifted mindlessly from room to room now like a ghost, as pale as one, once again succumbing to deep thought as he chewed on his nails down to bloody nubs, hair its usual brown tousled mess strewn across his face. For the first year or so, he'd gone about acting as though someone, his loved one, had died: drifting lifelessly from room to room like this, tears nearly always cradled in his eyes, depressed, rapidly losing weight, screaming for his boyfriend in his sleep as nightmares had plagued him and left him constantly exhausted, closing himself off from society. It was then his anxious best friend, Armin, and dismayed adoptive sister, Mikasa, finally said stop instead of watching nervously from afar, and signed him up for football of all things to avert his mind off it, and through the stereotypical vicious boyishness of the sport to take out and relieve the pent-up emotion he was keeping unhealthily in his chest.

And today was a football tournament, something very important to the team. As if he didn't have enough stress without feeling responsible for the whole team's victory! One screw up, just one, could result in the fall of the team, the losing of the school (that bastard horse-face Jean had rubbed that in more times today than anyone had gone 'Good luck, Eren!', the damn asshat), and to be honest, he was unsure whether he was in the right mindset for a game, a game he wished his boyfriend was here to see; his thoughts had just been absorbed in something else... Levi, my love, he thought with a panging heart. Where are you?

He dragged his weight reluctantly from that room back to the changing room, gnawing down on his bottom lip as he turned the corner once through the door, faced by Reiner, Jean, Connie, Farlan (Levi's best friend, which hurt more than ever when he saw him, though it was, on the other hand also, easier to cope with someone who knew how he was feeling), Bertolt, and to his surprise, Mikasa and Annie stood in there too, leaning against the wall side-by-side, arms brushing. Eren had the distant suspicion something intimate was going on there, but was too busy enveloped in his own sucky life he didn't care to inquire; besides, he respected his sisters love life had nothing to do with him, and she had not come out as either gay or bisexual, so he took into mind she might not be ready to come out the closet if there was something going on there.

He averted his eyes from their touching arms, up to his sister's face, and cocked his eyebrow at her; he was surprised to note a look flashed behind her eyes as she looked back at him, almost mischievous, and the tiniest of smiles (or was it a smirk?) curled her lips. "What are you two doing in here?" he asked, tugging his headphones out his ears -cutting off My Chemical Romance mid-song -and stuffing them into his bag, retrieving his water bottle instead from the plain blue backpack and taking a generous chug.

"Getting ready with the team." She rolled her eyes, probably one of the most expressive things he'd seen her do. She was like Levi in that department; usually expressionless or frowning, giving nothing away. That and her silky raven hair... and her stormy grey eyes... Eren swallowed the lump in his throat. Don't think about him, dammit, Jaeger. "Are you ready?"

No. Not only reluctant, nerves tickled him. "Yes. I think so."

"Remember, Eren-" began Jean, and instead of getting worked up this time like earlier, Eren merely rolled his eyes (he'd been prepared), and shoved his water bottle back in his bag, interrupting.

"If I screw up being the professional dumbass," Eren quoted Jean's earlier words calmly as he yanked the zip of his bag closed, "I am the team will suffer, so remember to keep my titan ass in gear or you'll pummel the football into my face." He flashed him a confident sarcastic smile to emphasis his poison, to which Jean, feeling mocked, scowled venomously on behalf of his pride.

"Right," was however all he mumbled.

"You have to put effort in, though, this time, Eren!" Connie went on seriously, and for the first time on the subject, a touch of annoyance twanged inside of Eren, growing as the other boy went on with an air of importance and superiority he didn't have. "This is important to all of us, and we don't need you slacking off after all the practice and effort we've put into this, you need to put effort in for us to win-"

"Oh, shut up, Connie," Eren snapped, surprised at how quickly this had escalated. Usually, he didn't mind Connie; no, they were friends. But there were times like this, the times he rashly spoke just to show off, where Eren couldn't stand him as much as, most of the time, he couldn't stand Jean. And had they all forgotten just because two years had passed he was going through a tough time? Or were they selfishly pushing it aside because of a crappy football tournament? Levi wasn't dead, but he was out there fighting for his life in barbaric conditions all the same. He dropped his voice into a tone low and bitter, burning exasperated eyes never leaving his. "We all know you don't give a crap about playing football and just want to impress Sasha."

Connie froze, clearly taken aback by that, and colour flooded his cheeks all at once. He began stuttering out incoherent noises Eren presumed were his attempt at words, flailing his arms wildly, as Jean muffled his laughs in the corner. Typical.

"And," Eren went on angrily (an emotion he was custom to feeling), "I'm sorry for letting the team down by 'slacking off' as you say, I really am, but two reminders. One: I didn't willingly join the football team, I was practically forced here."

Mikasa scoffed quietly, another expressive action that surprised him, that and her words that followed laced with a bout of rare confidence. "I prefer to think of it as concerned coaxing."

Ignoring Mikasa, Eren went on. "Second: In case you've forgotten, the least of my problems is kicking a football into a net and getting bruised legs again, horse-face, coconut-head." He felt meanly pleased from the offended looks that flashed in unison across their faces from the nicknames, even if they were vastly used. "My biggest problem is that someone very dear to me is out in war, and you might be able to sit there being dickheads about it, but that's because you don't understand. You don't understand at all. You wouldn't like it, Connie, if Sasha went out to war for two years, would you?"

When Connie said nothing, apparently startled into silence, Eren pressed on.

"Would you like it if you knew she was out there in cold and rain, in trenches with rats and diseases and parasites and a gun in her hand ready to fend for her life and strike down the enemy? Would you like it if you were uncertain if she was okay, breathing or dead, healthy as you can be out there in those conditions or diseased or without a few limbs, always checking the letter box in terror the letter will be sitting there telling you of her death in the battlefield? If you couldn't see her for two goddamn whole years just because the world is a cruel, unjust place? I don't think you would, would you?"

His own outburst startled himself probably nearly as much as it startled Connie, the entire contents of the room for that matter. In the whole two years, he hadn't talked much about what could be happening to Levi at that moment, the conditions he was living in far away; he refused to. Refused to think of anything but his gorgeous, handsome, unmarred boyfriend as he was, perfect, healthy, nothing more, nothing less. If he thought of everything else, he'd shatter completely. Even he, Eren Jaeger, only had so much determination to go on and fight.

To win, he reminded himself, you have to fight, and drew a deep breath in, before half-jogging out the room, grateful to leave the maze of gaping faces and uncomfortable silence behind.

The Captain of the football team, a firm, loud, and frankly terrifying man with a shaved head and defined lines raying his face like cracks in a painting, greeted Eren straight away. "Jaeger, where's your teammates?"

He opened his mouth timidly to reply, to be relieved.

"Here, sir!"

His teammates, including Connie and Jean, jogged out to join them, immediately closing into the group huddle.

They went on to their team murmurs, before sticking their hands into the middle of the circle and cheering their team name out faithfully as they flung them up. "Survey Corps!"

They moved out importantly, ignoring the drizzle of rain that had begun to fall from the ashy clouds above.

"You get that, Jaegerbombastic?" snickered Jean as he strode past, quoting what the Captain had grumbled to the spaced-out teen. Can he ever get over himself? Flushing angrily, Eren only glared at him mutedly and got into position, standing in goal with a resolute expression on his face.

As the whistle blew and the match begun, the drizzle of rain turned to pouring sheets drenching them all immediately. Eren mumbled moodily to himself before turning his attention back to the game, not at all surprised to find Mikasa with the ball, the best of the best, dodging all tacklers. He stared at the ball, fixed, rapt, and though he'd made a scene of being 'practically forced' here, he let off a triumphant whoop and clapped his hands in ardour as the ball was booted strongly into the net.

The next time, they weren't so lucky. The ball was claimed before Mikasa could lunge, and the person to claim it was surprisingly fast. Eren groaned in despair but cried out for his teammates anyway, the ball heading his way. He got into position to defend, glanced at his teammates to see if the ball was going to be taken, if there was hope-

To notice, in the distance, a figure standing in the opening from the pitch into the changing rooms. This figure was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his-it was a his-chest as he watched. Inching slightly closer, as close as he could, for a better look at the figure that for some reason engulfed inevitably his entire attention, he noticed he had raven hair, curtained, looking silky to run his hands through even from afar; his silver eyes were piercing and clear, in perfect contrast with the grey clouds overhead now residing as Eren stared, from ashy pillows back to white cotton.

The rain had turned back to drizzle, and as Eren's eyes swooped over the figure-a man proudly clad in army uniform, with eyes intently staring right back into his even for afar-the drizzle turned to blue and sun, coincidentally -or was it coincidence that the world around him began to brighten and glow as his did?

A number of emotions wrenched his gut, crashing into him overwhelmingly and stealing the breath from his lungs: astonishment, relief, disbelief, and-

Sweet God why was he just stood there?

Levi.

He so hoped this wasn't a hallucination, his broken soul tampered with stress and exhaustion putting a vivid image of his beloved boyfriend before his eyes; he hoped it wasn't a dream, but if it was a dream (like the ones he'd had so many times at night, of Levi coming back only to wisp away like smoke into thin air leaving him again alone), he damn well didn't want to ever wake up...

Because Levi was right there, unhitching himself from the doorframe expectantly, taking a single step forward with his eyes never leaving his.

He hadn't even realised he'd moved before he'd already thrown himself halfway across the pitch, ignoring the indignant outbursts of protest from his teammates and Captain as the ball was shot clean into the undefended goal-they were drowned out anyway, and all he could see, hear, know was Levi.

His name tore from his throat, "Levi!", before he tossed himself into his arms, and as the warmth and scent he'd missed so much filled his nostrils all at once and intoxicated him, he knew this was no dream. He was right there, unscathed and alive, rocking on his heels unsteadily sure, but that was for the reason he'd barely refrained from falling over from having a hefty teenager thrown at him!

And that's when the sobs he'd been clamping in for another night alone came bubbling up his throat, and spilling choked past his lips.

Composing himself finally, Levi slowly circled his arms around him, burying his face in his shoulder and allowing Eren to sob into his hair; he even sobbed once himself. "Eren," he whispered, and they held each other so close their heartbeats hammered against each other's, as fast and pounding as the rain had to the floor.

Eren couldn't believe it. He was here, with him, curled in his arms with his face tucked into his shoulder smelling as he always did-well, minus the lush scent of fresh shampoo he loved so much, and he felt a pang of loss as he buried his face in scentless black locks, but he didn't care. He didn't care! Because this was Levi anyway, and he was-"You're finally home!" he sobbed, and nuzzled him, holding him so close it was though he wanted to crush Levi into his being and make them one person so he could never leave him again. "I was worried sick, I didn't know"-he hiccuped-"if you were going to die or not! God, I love you, I missed you, Levi, Levi, Levi-"

And as they held each other, he chanted, sobbed out his name and those three words passionately like he could never get enough, over and over again until he was breathless.

"I missed you too, shitty brat," Levi finally mumbled, affection tied to the insult saved only for him. There was a long silence-well, for talking anyway, Eren was still sobbing like he was never going to stop-before the smaller finally broke it. "That squeal you made when you saw me was cute. Worth the two year wait almost to get a reaction like that."

Eren drew back to shoot him a confused look, that adorable tilt of his head transpiring to the point, known only to Levi, he looked like a confused puppy. Then, a realisation came over him, and he blushed. Indeed, as he'd realised who it was, an embarrassingly high note had fled his lungs almost safely called a squeal, going perfectly with the eagerness to which he threw himself at him. "Shut up," he mumbled with no heart put into it, and slid his fingers across Levi's face, tearing up again. "I cant believe you're really here..."

A roll of grey eyes. "Believe it, brat." He paused a moment expressionlessly before a fleeting soft expression crossed his features; he turned his head, and kissed his fingertips one by one.

Eren's breath hitched as he felt those missed soft lips brushing up against his skin, and yearned to press his own up against them. He finally could. Excitement coursed through his veins. After two whole years of dreadful waiting he could finally kiss him as much as he wanted! No more lonely days! Just Levi! They could finally go on as many dates as they want, kiss and hold each other like nothing else mattered, make love and get married! Hell, maybe even spend the rest of their lives together. He all too eagerly plunged his hands into Levi's hair, pulling him in for the kiss that spoke without words of their long time period without kisses: he went at it desperately, eagerly, excitedly, lovingly and passionately and almost clumsily. His lips slanted across his hard, and he felt Levi's mouth part beneath his and the older usher a gasp, and slid his hand to the back of his neck, holding him steady.

Levi clung to the front of his shirt, parting their lips to breathe shakily between the kiss, but it didn't matter anyway; Eren broke the kiss little time after, and knocked his forehead gently with his, a loving headbutt before simply resting them together and inhaling at his scent.

"Levi... I love you. Don't ever leave me again, please, I can't function without you, you're my world, my reason for breathing!"

"Tch, soppy brat." Eren could tell he secretly loved it. "I love you too."

"So you wont ever leave me?" he asked hopefully, looking up at him through soft brown hair and teary eyes.

Barely, though it was there, Levi's lips curled at the edges; he tugged him into his arms again, their hearts once again pounding against each other's-and pounding for each other.

"Not while there's stars in the sky, my love."

And with that, they shared another kiss beneath sun and eyes without a care in the world but each other.