Early update because I'm going camping this weekend! :D Oh, and SURPRISE! Random Marco POV towards the beginning of this chapter. I'm pointing that out now, because it starts off with a Jeanmarco smut scene (I have literally zero self control) and I wanted to warn you incase Jeanmarco is a notp for any of you. You can skip that part, but the Marco POV does have some importance, so don't skip all of it :)
Chapter 12: Soccer Player Has a Witty Plan!
Levi
As soon as I drop Eren off at the university, I head straight back to my apartment. I still have a little while before I need to head to practice. My mind is a mess, going over everything that's happened this morning. If I'm honest with myself, I'm a little worried about Eren. That much bruising isn't normal for what we've done. Sometimes bruising is expected, especially when using handcuffs and other toys of that nature, but I usually know how to use them properly so that bruising is avoided. That doesn't seem to work with Eren though. He's right when he says he bruises easily. I'm not even that rough with him. He shouldn't be bruising.
But just like he asked me to, I let it drop. I'll just have to trust him to tell me if I'm hurting him. There needs to be a lot of trust between partners when getting into the things I like to do. I'll have to emphasize that the next time he comes over.
The next time he comes over... That's such a weird thought for me. With all of my past sexual partners, there's never been a next time. After I kick them out of my apartment, I never see them again. Having that conversation with Eren warning him that I can't, and won't, commit to him was definitely strange. I've never had to talk about commitment before, or in this case lack thereof.
I try not to think too much on the nature of Eren and my... I hesitate to call it a relationship because that seems too committed of a word. Instead I think about what that brat made me agree to this morning. That fucking exhibition match against Canada. God damn it... I usually avoid those, because I'll be playing on a team full of people I've never played with before. Sure, I've played against them most likely, but that's not enough for me to know them well enough to play on the same team as them. I have a very specialized style and way of play. My fellow forwards on the Scouts know it and are used to it, and they don't get in my way. I'm not looking forward to having to deal with people who don't know how to play with me. Let's just say I'm not looking forward to having to adjust my style to accommodate new people.
So why did I say yes? Why couldn't I resist those damn puppy eyes Eren threw at me? I've never been one to let others sway me. But when he started to plead with me, his shocking green eyes wide and begging, I literally couldn't force the word 'no' to cross my lips. I didn't want to disappoint him. I don't know why he was so excited about the prospect of me playing for Team USA, but he was, and I couldn't dampen that excitement. Fuck, what is this shitty kid doing to me?
An idea crosses my mind and, as I pull into the parking garage for my apartment building, I hope that Isabel is still here. I don't know if she still has things to discuss with me, or if she left right after Eren and I.
But when the elevator doors open into my apartment, I see her sitting right where we left her, still going over paperwork.
"Oi," I call to her. "I have a favor to ask of you. It has to do with the exhibition match."
...
"So I got a call from your agent saying that you accepted Team USA's request to play in Quebec in two weeks," Eyebrows tells me as I enter the locker room to get ready for practice.
"Yeah, so? What of it?" I ask, opening my locker and pulling out a clean shirt and pair of shorts.
Erwin doesn't even flinch as I drop my jeans. You quickly get over any prudishness when you're on a sports team. Every day consists of me changing and showering in front of other men who also happen to be changing and showering. You get used to it pretty quickly. Even the coaches.
"I'm just surprised is all," he says with a shrug as I pull on my athletic shorts. "You usually avoid those like the plague."
"Usually," I reply. "But someone did a little bit of convincing this time."
Erwin looks around, seemingly double checking that we're alone in the locker room. The two of us are usually the first ones here every morning, and this morning is no exception. "That someone wouldn't happen to be that photographer, would it? The one you brought to the party, and the one you went home with last night?"
My whole body tenses and I hesitate halfway through pulling off my shirt, but I quickly school myself back into check and shuck the shirt into my locker. He doesn't know anything. He can't prove anything. Anything he says, I can deny.
"He's just an acquaintance and a fan," I defend, maybe a little too quickly, pulling my practice jersey from the hanger.
"I wasn't suggesting otherwise."
Fuck, I can hear the smugness in his tone. I can't believe I fell for that. Fuck. I turn on him, my practice jersey clutched tightly in one hand. I give him my best glare.
"What are you getting at, Eyebrows?" I demand of him.
He has such a disinterested, innocent look on his face that I want to punch him. Erwin and I have always been really close- I know, hard to believe considering the way I talk to him, but I talk to all my friends that way so sue me- so I should've known that I wouldn't be able to keep secrets from him forever. I'm actually surprised that it's lasted this long.
"I guess I just want to warn you to be careful," he says, and his tone has turned serious. "I don't care what you do in your free time, or who you do it with, I just want you to be careful. I don't have to warn you what will happen if the press gets hold of this information."
"No, you don't," I retort, turning back to my locker to finish pulling on my jersey and get ready. I know he's just trying to help, and honestly I'm grateful for the help and for having someone that cares enough to help, but I've never liked when people try to butt into my private life.
He starts to leave. I don't look back at him, but instead feel the need to call over my shoulder, "Thanks though."
"I'm just looking out for a friend. Because you're more to me than just a player on my team, and I don't want to see you destroyed."
With that said, he leaves the locker room. I sit down on the bench in front of the row if lockers and stare at my cleats sitting at my feet. He's right in saying that if news of my sexual orientation got out, it would destroy my career. It's fucking bullshit that something like that even matters, but it does. I momentarily entertain the thought of cutting ties with Eren, but quickly dismiss it. That won't change the fact that I prefer cock over pussy. I'll still be gay, and I'll still be fucking men. The only problem in pursuing Eren is that he could get dragged into the middle of this. I won't let that happen though. No one will ever know that he's more than just an acquaintance, more than just a fan. No one will know that I've had my dick up his ass on more than one glorious occasion. And if things start getting suspicious, I'll just cut my ties with him. He's just a play thing, right? It won't even be that hard. I'll just tell him to get lost, just like every other partner I've ever had. It won't even be that hard... Right?
Marco
The office closed ten minutes ago, and everyone went home. The building is completely empty, even of the janitorial staff. That's probably the only reason I allowed Jean to bend me over my own desk like this. It doesn't stop a blush from burning in my cheeks though as I grip the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white. I've never been one for even public kissing, let alone office sex. But with Jean, it didn't even take much convincing on his part.
One of his hands takes hold of my dripping arousal and begins to pump me in time with his thrusts. His hot breath warms the skin between my shoulder blades as his lips trail lazy kisses along my spine. I moan into the wood of my desk, biting my lip to try and keep quiet, even though nobody is here to hear me.
We finish at the same time, Jean groaning my name into the back of my neck. We quickly clean ourselves up, then collapse back into my desk chair, me on Jean's lap with his arms loosely circled around my waist. His lips kiss and suckle at my sweaty shoulder and neck.
"I love you, Mar-"
The shrill of my phone startles both of us, and I jump with an embarrassing squeak. Jean's arms constrict around me as he too is startled.
"Who the fuck..." he starts to say.
I just shrug, reaching across the desk to grab the phone. I try to act casual- how does one sound like they just had unexpected office sex and how does one avoid sounding like that?- as I put the phone to my ear.
"Marco Bodt, Trost Daily," I greet cheerily with a big smile. Was that too much?
"Hello, Mr. Bodt. I apologize for the lateness of the hour. This is Isabel Church. I am Levi Ackerman's agent," a sweet female voice says.
I instantly straighten, and Jean looks at me in confusion and curiosity. Levi Ackerman's agent? Does she want to set up an interview or something? I've never had agents be the first to contact me. Usually I'm the one that has to contact them first.
"Yes, Mrs. Church, how may I help you this evening?" I ask her, grabbing a pen and notepad from my desk, ready to take notes.
"Mr. Ackerman was recruited to play for Team USA in the friendly exhibition match against Canada two weeks from this last Saturday. We were hoping you could arrange to have the match, and more specifically Mr. Ackerman's performance, covered by your newspaper," she says.
"Of course! We would be honored to do an article on the exhibition match. The Scouts are doing very well this season, so I'm sure an article on Mr. Ackerman's involvement with Team USA will be popular among our readers," I assure her. "I'll arrange to have a reporter and photographer sent to this match."
"That's actually what I wanted to discuss with you, Mr. Bodt," she tells me. "See, Mr. Ackerman has a request he wishes to make..."
Eren
Tuesday afternoon, I'm sitting in the quad near the art building, wondering how bad it would be if I skipped my Calculus class this afternoon, when my cell phone starts to buzz in my pocket. I nearly squeak in surprise, dropping my pencil into the dirt.
Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I see that Marco is calling me. Hmm, another job maybe? I'm not sure if I have the time to take another job, but the last time he called me with a job assignment, it turned out to be the best call of my life.
"Yellow," I greet him, my voice cheery as I pick up my pencil. What can I say? I'm still in an amazing mood from this weekend. And can you blame me?
"Hi Eren!" Marco's equally cheery voice says. "I have a job for you if you're interested."
"I'm really busy right now, but tell me what the job is and I'll decide whether or not I can fit it in," I tell him, my free hand resuming my doodling in my sketchbook.
"Well, we got wind that Ackerman will be playing in the upcoming exhibition match against Canada and I was wondering if you-"
My hand tenses so hard that it snaps the lead of my pencil against the paper of my sketchbook. "Yes!" I interrupt Marco, much louder than necessary, but I can't help it. Is this seriously happening? Marco is going to send me to Quebec to photograph Team USA's exhibition match? Oh my fuck I'm so excited!
I hear Marco laugh on the other end of the line. "The match is not this coming Saturday, but the following Saturday at five o'clock Quebec time. Come by the office the Thursday before the match and I'll give you your itinerary, airline tickets, and your hotel information. We will try to fly you out Saturday morning and fly you home sometime on Sunday, so you shouldn't miss any school. But we'll go over details closer to the match."
"Oh my god thank you, Marco!" I shout, earning me some curious looks from other people in the quad.
We say our goodbyes and I hang up. Oh my god I'm going to Quebec! To watch Team USA play against Team Canada! To watch Levi Ackerman play in an exhibition match! Oh my-
I need to call Levi. He'll never believe this. And he was the one that said I had to watch the match or he'll kick my ass. What's he going to say when I tell him I get to watch the match from the sidelines?! Oh my god I can't wait to tell him. I open my contacts and find 'Grumpy Pants'. My finger hesitates over the 'call' button though. It's only a little after one. He's still in practice. He won't answer. With a heavy sigh, I lower my phone. It'll just have to wait until tonight.
...
The phone rings, once... come on pick up. Twice... c'mon Levi... Three times... PICK. UP. THE PHONE. A fourth-
"What?" Levi's tired voice snaps.
"Woah there Mr. Grumpy Pants," I laugh. Not even his snappy, short tone can dampen my mood right now.
"Oh, it's you," he sighs, but his tone isn't so irritated anymore.
"You'll never believe what happened today! I-"
"Look, kid, I'm super busy right now," Levi interrupts me. "Tell you what, if you're not busy Friday night, come home with me after the match and then you can tell me all about what happened today."
A huge smirk threatens to split my face in two. "Is that all I'll be doing?"
"Tch. Of course not, cheeky brat," he snorts. "I have to go."
"Okay, bye," I reply, hanging up.
I quickly sharpen my pencil and resume my doodling. I realize that I'm humming to myself as I sketch out flowers, birds, eyes, and of course Levi. I don't know if there's a single thing that can put a damper on my mood today. Or tomorrow. Or for the rest of the week.
...
Okay, so I lied. Wednesday afternoon, shortly after my shift ended at the coffee shop, a killer migraine erupted in my skull. Yet another wonderful symptom of my hemophilia. But the worst thing about this symptom is that the headaches and migraines aren't normal. They're prolonged. So despite the numerous painkillers, calling in sick to work, skipping Scouts practices, and even getting excused from classes, come Friday before the match, it still feels like my head is getting split by an ice pick.
I haven't had a migraine this bad in a long while. I forgot how much they suck. I haven't left my room since Wednesday afternoon. Armin moved all his homework and books out to the kitchen table so that he could study, considering the blinds in our room are drawn tightly shut and if he even touched the light switch I would cut his hand off. Mikasa keeps leaving food for me, along with a few painkillers, and I can't even begin to describe how grateful I am for her. Armin comes in as well to check me out to the best of his abilities, but unfortunately there's not much he can do for a headache. I don't know what I'd do without either of those two by my side.
Around noon on Friday, I call Hanji and tell her that I won't be able to make my appointment. I could always call a cab to take me to the hospital, but I think if I stepped foot outside, my head would literally explode. Literally.
"What's the matter, dear?" she asks me. Her voice is too loud. Well, not loud. It's too high pitched. My head sears in pain and I hold the phone away from my ear, cringing into the mountain of pillows surrounding me.
"I have a migraine," I murmur in response.
"I'm sorry, hun," she says, and bless her she even speaks in a lower register. "How long have you been having this migraine?"
"Since Wendesday. Around four o'clock," I reply, trying to take deep breathes through the pain.
"Oh honey... Have you been taking any painkillers?"
"Just what Armin has on hand. I think it's just Tylenol."
"Okay, keep taking that and don't worry about our appointment today. Call me when you're feeling better and we'll reschedule. Your tests from the last session were pretty good, so I don't see a problem. Get some rest, dear."
I hang up the phone and toss it into the pillows. Burying myself further into my blanket and pillow fortress on my bed, I close my eyes and try to get some sleep. It's difficult to sleep when it feels like someone's taking a jackhammer to my skull, but it's the only reprieve I get from this pain. It's not like I'm not tired enough. I've only slept a couple of hours since Wednesday afternoon.
Searching for my phone again, I open up a text conversation and type out a quick message. The artificial light from my phone screen, even dimmed down to its lowest setting, is enough to make my eyes water. so I keep the message short, then quickly shut off the screen.
To: Grumpy Pants
Can't make it to the match tonight. Something came up. Sorry
12:47PM
I'm not expecting a reply considering he's still in practice. So I close my eyes and try to get some sleep. It must've worked because a soft knock pulls me from the peaceful dregs of sleep and back into my painful reality. I glance at the dull glow of my alarm clock on my nightstand. It's just after two. Well, and hour and a half is better than nothing.
The door slowly creaks open, and I bury my face in the pillows at the light that streams into the room.
"Eren, Dr. Zoe is here," Mikasa's soft voice tells me. "And I brought you some water."
I wave for her to enter, not lifting my face from the pillows, not until I hear the door click closed behind them. I slowly sit up to take the cup from Mikasa and sip at the cold water. Hanji takes a seat on the edge of the bed and takes my wrist in her hand, checking my pulse. Then her hand moves to my forehead.
"I bought you some Vicodin," Hanji tells me, removing a small bottle from her pocket. "It's only a few pills. Take one every six hours until the migraine starts to fade, then go back to the Tylenol. I'm also going to have you up the intake of your regular meds. Take two pills a day until your headache is completely gone. Hopefully that will get the blood circulating better."
I nod and she hands me a pill from my meds bottle, and another unfamiliar looking pill that must be the Vicodin. I swallow them with the water and lay back down. Hanji and Mikasa leave the room, and I bury myself back in the covers, trying desperately to fall back asleep.
...
When I wake Sunday morning, my migraine is almost completely gone. It's been reduced to a dull throb in the back of my skull that only bothers me a little in the bright light of the sun when I open the blinds. A smile creeps onto my face for the first time since Wednesday. What a beautiful day. And, Levi doesn't have practice today. Maybe he's free?
I take a quick shower, then pull on my clothes before finding my phone and sending a text to Levi.
To: Grumpy Pants
Sorry about Friday. Can I come over today?
10:33AM
I start on my Calculus homework while I wait for a reply. It doesn't take long though for my phone to go off. A quick glance at the screen reveals that it's a text from Levi.
From: Grumpy Pants
Sure. I'll come pick you up.
10:35AM
A wide smile splits across my face. Now I'm excited all over again. Oh, and I get to finally tell him about the exhibition match next weekend!
To: Grumpy Pants
It's okay, you don't have to. I'm pretty sure I can find your place on my own
10:36AM
From: Grumpy Pants
Are you seriously going to ride your bike all the way over here? I don't think so. I don't want you all sweaty and nasty when you get here. I'll be there in 10.
10:38AM
I roll my eyes, but don't argue with him. Instead, I try to focus on my Calculus, but no matter how hard I try, I keep glancing at the clock, willing the minutes to tick by faster. I'm glad that Mikasa is at work and Armin is at the hospital, or else they'd start hounding me to concentrate on my homework and not on my phone. And they'd ask me where I'm going when I finally give up and tug on my shoes, grabbing my keys and leaving the apartment.
I reach the parking lot just as Levi's Aston Martin rounds the corner and pulls into a space. I hurry over to his car and climb in.
"Sorry again about the match," I apologize as he pulls out of the parking lot. "It's just-"
"I don't need excuses, Eren," he says. Then, after a moment of quiet, "Did you at least watch it?"
I duck my head, embarrassed at my own suckiness as a fan. I never miss the matches. Even when I'm in the hospital, I have a nurse put it on and I watch it on their little televisions. When our television broke last season, I went down the street to the Buffalo Wild Wings to watch the match. I never miss the matches. But I missed this one.
"No. But a friend told me the score. Congrats on the win," I say, forcing a smile.
"Hey, kid," he says, glancing over at me with a raised eyebrow. "Don't sweat it. I don't expect you to be able to watch every single match we ever play. But you will watch the match this weekend, right? Now that one, I won't forgive you for missing."
There's something in his tone, something I can't put my finger on. It's a knowing tone, like he's looking for a certain reaction, but I don't dwell on it long though, because that reminds me that I never got to tell Levi about the job Marco gave me.
"Oh! About that, my boss called and wants to send me to Quebec to photograph the match!" I tell him, my excitement oozing from my voice. "So yeah, I definitely won't be missing this next match."
A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. "Good. I won't be the only one getting dragged to Canada then."
I laugh. "I don't know why you're so against this! I'm so fucking excited I might explode," I admit to him.
"Hmm," he hums, that damn sexy smirk still on his face. "I'm glad at least one of us will be enjoying it." It's silent for a long minute, and his voice returns to its normal tone when he next speaks. "I'm flying to Quebec tomorrow morning to practice with the team this week. We won't be returning until Sunday, most likely pretty early."
I nod. "When is the next Scouts match?"
"Sunday," he replies. "It's an away match, so I'll basically be returning to Trost to meet up with the team before flying out to wherever the fuck we're playing. Tell me, why did I agree to this again?"
I decide not to answer that question, instead only rolling my eyes. Levi pulls into the parking garage for his building and I follow him to the elevator. My heart is racing, as it usually is when I'm around him. I'm preparing myself to be dragged into the bedroom again and fucked into his mattress. That's what has happened every other time I've been to Levi's flat. I can't stop the smile and the butterflies in my stomach at just the thought of what's about to happen. I wonder if I'll ever get to the point where this elevator ride doesn't drive me crazy? I also wonder how many of these elevator rides I have left.
But when the elevator doors slide open, Levi doesn't grab me, he doesn't kiss me, he doesn't pull me towards his bedroom. No. Instead, he heads to his kitchen to fish a cup out of a cupboard above his head. I find it adorable that he has to stretch up on his tip-toes to reach the glasses.
"Do you want anything?" he asks, holding up the cup.
"Oh, uh... no, thanks," I say, standing awkwardly in small entry way in front of the elevator doors. I don't know what do to right now. Usually at this point I'm already halfway to being naked, with Levi's hands roaming my body, my dick fully hard and ready. Isn't that what our relationship is? I still can't put a name on it, but fuck buddies seems to be the closest. Or, at least that's what I thought.
Once Levi's glass is full of water, he takes a sip and turns to me, an eyebrow raised. My confusion must be obvious on my face, because a devilish smirk starts to tease at his lips.
"Don't worry, brat," he nearly purrs, which sends a jolt straight into my groin. "My dick will be up your ass at some point today, if not on more than one occasion, I can promise you that."
I can feel the warmth in my cheeks, and I have to look away from that sinful smirk before I pop a boner. As it is, I'm trying so mightily hard to keep one away right now, and seeing the look on Levi's face won't help my extreme efforts.
When I hear the glass get set down on the island, and footsteps head my way though, I can't help but look back over at Levi. He stops in front of me and tilts his head to the side ever so slightly. That damned sexy ass grin is still pulling at his lips. One of his fingers comes up to run along the underside of my jaw, drawing every ounce of focus onto that singular digit. How the hell is this man able to get to me so easily?
"I have some other things in mind before we get to that though," he says, his voice low and seductive.
His face is mere inches from mine, and I'm seconds away from getting completely lost in his steely eyes when suddenly he's drawing away from me. I'm vaguely aware of his command for me to stay put while he heads into his bedroom.
I take that moment of aloneness to take a deep breath and try to regain control of my body. Because, fuck, Levi completely messes me up every time I'm with him. He's not gone long though, returning just a minute later with something in his hand. As he gets closer, he holds it up and fuck there goes all of the control I had worked so hard to gain. It's a thick leather collar, lightly studded, and with a ring attached to the front, supposedly for a leash? I've heard of petplay and shit, but I never in a million years thought it would excite me this much.
He hesitates, just holding up the strip of leather. "Is this something you're okay with trying?" he asks.
I nod slowly, and when I'm finally able to find my voice, I point out rather shyly, "I was a virgin before I met you, so... I've never done this before. I don't know how..." I'm not exactly sure where I was going with that, but Levi's chuckle cuts me off as he reaches up to wrap the collar around my neck.
"First of all, being a virgin doesn't mean anything. Petplay doesn't have to lead to sex, although in this case, it most certainly will. Second, I'll walk you through it," he promises me. "You can start by taking off your clothes."
ALL OF MY CHAPTERS SEEM TO EITHER HAVE SMUT OR END LEADING UP TO SMUT BECAUSE I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL. And technically, this chapter does have smut, just not ereri smut heh.
And again, I took a little bit of creative liberty with the hemophilia. One of the symptoms is, and I quote, 'painful, prolonged headaches' but that's all the details I got on that symptom. From my own medical knowledge, I assumed that the headaches hemophilia patients get would most likely be from lack of circulation of blood in the brain due to the thinning of the blood, causing a reduction in the amount of oxygen available for the brain. Oxygen reduction headaches are usually extremely painful, so that's my take on it.
One final note, as I said, I'm going camping this weekend, which means that any comments I don't respond to before tomorrow morning won't get answered until either late Sunday or sometime on Monday. Don't freak out if you don't see a response as quickly as normal. I will get to them, I promise :)
