A.N.: This story has strong language and suggestive themes. This isn't a very sweet story, either, but I hope you like it either way.
Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin.
On the table between them lied two matching glass cups, a bottle of whiskey, and a gun.
She could get into the specifics of it—the idiocy of the moment—but nothing else could possibly compare to the look in his eyes through it all.
"It's about trust," she said, pausing to watch him tip back his head to drain his cup. "There's one bullet in there. This could be our last night."
He wiped his mouth and poured some more. "We're sitting in a shitty mess hall in the middle of the night with some stolen booze and a piece of shit gun. I'm freezing my balls off, the ceremony is tomorrow, and you wanna come at me with that?" He leveled her with the deepest scowl he could manage. "This is our last night either way, and this is what you chose to do. Could've been doing anything else in the world, and you chose this."
"You can still refuse," she reminded, lifting her glass to her mouth. "The door's right there, and it has been this whole time."
He scoffed, "You know Smith is fucking some blonde behind the barracks. And what are we doing?" He waved dismissively toward the gun, but not a single drop spilled from his cup. "Playing with life and death."
"Come off it, Levi," she smiled, lifting her chin. "What's more fun than tying your own noose? Sex gets boring, you know."
"At least you don't die from it."
"That's only the majority; things happen. And it's always the same story either way, right?" She fingered the grip without a single shred of fear. "This—this has facets. Tomorrow morning, someone might find one of us dead on this table, and no one would be the wiser."
"There's a reason I joined the military, four eyes," he said, eying her hand, wrapped loose about the grip.
"And you've yet to share the juicy details." When he glared again, she shifted her foot until she could stroke one of his legs with it; he didn't jump. "It's about trust. And you can go on and on about how you don't trust me, but there's a reason you didn't refuse—and you still aren't."
He didn't move.
Held her gaze. And did not move.
"Show me why you're here, shorty. And then we'll see about you having your way."
And without ever breaking eye contact, he took up the gun, cocked it, and pointed it right at her.
One day, he'll ask her if she was afraid then, and she would probably say she was. But in that moment, all that sat between them was empty space and a steady hand.
There was a click, no bullet, and he cocked the gun a second time. "Is this how you play the game, four eyes? Pull and hope for the best?" Another click, no bullet.
"I believe there's a trade off somewhere," she replied evenly, did not dare look away even when he narrowed his eyes. "But I guess that's what I like most about you. Don't really play by the rules. Just a regular bad boy, right?"
"Don't write me off as a shitty little brat. The day I fit that trope is the day I self-castrate." Another click.
"I'd like to watch, if you wouldn't mind."
"Fuck off." And then, he suddenly angled the barrel away from her and fired into a support beam.
Something rattled in her bones, and she had to swallow, once, to gather her bearings.
And he smiled, not bitterly. "What was that about trust?"
She took a moment or two to find her voice, and returned the smirk. "I'd like to know how you knew, first and foremost."
"I didn't." He let the gun swing from his finger by the trigger guard.
"Well, I guess it's only a matter—"
"Come off it, Hanji. Whole thing was pointless."
"Oh, I certainly don't agree with you on that." She reached over, took his glass, and poured him another drink. "We get a story out of it, don't we? And really, that's all I wanted out of this."
He pressed the rim of the glass to his lips, but did not look away from her. "I thought it went, one of us dead in the morning."
"Now that would be impractical. You're a godsend, after all. They'd be nowhere without you."
"And what about you?"
"I'm just a pawn, of course."
"Aren't we all?"
"Now that's dangerous thinking, Levi. You'll get yourself killed that way."
He tipped back his head and drained his cup. "Sleep with me."
"What a curveball."
"I'm being serious." He held out his cup for another round.
"In some ways, I already am. In this day and age, I'd be considered a proper whore."
"Fuck what people think. I just had a gun pointed at your face and you never even flinched."
"What a woman, am I right?" She chuckled, capped the bottle and stood from her seat. "Tell you what, in the future when we're both weathered by war and bitter prudes, I'll think about it. Better yet, get me a titan; I won't even think twice."
He followed her to the doors, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You drive a hard bargain, four eyes. I might not even want to anymore by then."
"The keyword there is might. I'm a sucker for stories, you know that by now." She kicked the door open and gestured him out before her. "Get cut up, full of facets—and when we're both spitting blood, find me again."
"That's a little fucked. What, are you gonna save yourself until then?" He blew on his hands to keep them warm, watched her grind the snow under her boot mindlessly.
"Probably not—that's how life works, see? Wouldn't ask the same from you, so don't expect it from me." Her eyes glinted, somewhat like blades, and she spread her arms wide. "That's how life works, see? It's all about trust."
"Quit spewing your shit at me," he snapped, circling around her. "Fine. I'll wait, but I ain't holding out. Fuck as many men as you want, but don't you forget; I'm the one with the gun here."
"Getting metaphorical, I see. Nice change."
"Fuck off." He continued on toward the barracks.
A.N.: So, slightly AU. Where Levi and Hanji already knew each other before joining the Survey Corps. Perhaps having trained in the same place and gotten to know each other through that. I don't know, make of it what you will.
Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!