Basically this is my dumping ground for short Eruris that I can squeeze into my schedule between lab reports, exams, and other deadlines.
Jan 18th – switched the order of the first two drabbles, just because.
A study of Erwin through the five senses.
Sensation
Squad Leader Erwin Smith of the Recon Corps looks every bit the pompous military swine Levi's used to, so he's confused when the man doesn't hesitate to kneel in the filthy puddle and reaches out a hand to Levi. His eyes are flinty blue – a shade Levi's never seen before in the Underground because even the bluest cloths are stained with grime – yet startlingly earnest. It throws him off guard for a second, but when he comes to his senses again, he swears he'll kill this man, that he'll do anything and everything to pave a future for Isabel and Farlan.
He sounds like authority, the commanding air an assuring lifeline at which Levi clutches when his world is ripped away from him. Levi's considered a flight risk after Isabel and Farlan die and so he's locked in a room adjacent to Erwin's at night, cuffed to the bedpost like some wild animal. And he feels like one sometimes, feels out of control in his own head, relives Isabel's screams and the crunch of Farlan's bones, wakes from the harsh staccato of his own heart. Yet when he wakes he's not alone, and there's Erwin's voice, pitched quiet in the darkness when he murmurs Levi's name, a whisper that's so very firm, telling him that it gets better. He sounds so certain that Levi starts to believe him.
He smells like life in the Recon Corps, a cacophony of scents. During training days, he smells of weapon grease and worn leather as they walk side-by-side on trampled grass. In the evenings he smells of spilled ink and too-sweet tea, of the upholstery in his office upon which Levi reclines for hours at a time. When they make visits to the Capitol, Erwin smells of synthetic perfumes, falsely sweet and deceptive. Levi hates that, prefers even when it's the eye-watering smoke and hot steam that rises from Titan blood that clings to Erwin's skin, leaves little red marks from the heat, because then he smells like the war and like things Levi knows; like he's within reach.
He tastes like his sweetened tea, like soft sighs and stolen breaths when Levi kisses him. His skin is vaguely salty, sucked between Levi's teeth. Further down, he tastes of a strange musk, yet Levi can't get enough of it, moves his lips around the girth of his cock until Erwin chokes out a noise and Levi feels the come hitting the back of his throat, tastes Erwin in his mouth. He swallows it all down quickly and Erwin's groans taste like dizzying alcohol, warming Levi to the gut, filling his body with inexplicable giddiness.
Later as they lie side-by-side; Erwin feels more brittle than Levi expects, like beautiful glass spun by an artisan, tempered in scorching fires, but even that hadn't prevented the pressure from starting to form little cracks along his edges. Levi touches him with trembling fingers, folds his body into Erwin's, pliant; tries to be what Erwin needs. He's holding himself together at the seams, and Levi helps him do it, clutches at Erwin's frayed edges and vows never to let them go.
Constructive criticism and prompts are highly welcomed and appreciated!