(￣︶￣;)

33

I Celebrate My Birthday

I tried to turn my frustration into determination. I knew, with every fiber of my being, that Mikasa was right. Trying to do anything at that point was useless; I wasn't ready. I had no particular skills to offer. And I was certain to be a burden to Erwin and Levi. I was heavy and naïve and the worst part was that I knew that, but was still so frustrated that I could do nothing. It was like seeing a real vision of my dream for the first time, but still couldn't get any closer to it. I begrudgingly took a step back and thought about where to go from here. Erwin, at the very least, kept me updated; when I tried to bring it up with Levi he refused to talk about it, and became touchy. So it was a subject I avoided when we were together (a majority of the time, I should add). After a few weeks, the novelty of it all faded away—which isn't to say that I lost interest. But I was able to fall back into a semblance of the routine that I'd had before. I kept my research habits—the newspapers, the police radios, the internet searches, constantly begging Erwin to tell me every detail—to myself. And I kept the dreams to myself.

It was easier than I thought because I had something anchoring me. A place to turn when I needed to know where to go or what to say. Someone who would say "I love you" when I needed him to.

Levi and I fell even deeper than I thought we could. And I had already been pretty deep. But there was a flame between us that kept growing, burning hotter and redder, never cool or calm for a single moment. We sat beside it and let it warm us from our chilled toes up through our shivering arms and to our hearts, beating as one, unaware of the fact that we were catching fire and burning. The pleasure and passion numbed the pain of the flames licking at our skin.

I'm not sure how he felt, but I was astonished at the perseverance of my affections for him. Each time I felt that perhaps I was getting accustomed to his constant presence, or becoming desensitized to the taste of his skin and the feeling of his fingers pulling at my hair, I was hit with a wave of refreshed awe. Every time we made love it was like the first time. We never kissed idly. Always with purpose and dangerous passion. I was worried at first that if I said "I love you" too many times it would lose its meaning, but I felt it so deeply in my stomach whenever I said it that I knew that would be impossible. I don't think the dynamics of our relationship changed much, though.

He said jump, I asked how high. He said follow me, I said hold my hand and show me where to go. "I'm walking through hell now," he said. "As long as you're still holding my hand," I replied. He said let me squeeze your heart, I said dig your fingers in as far as they can go, until I can feel nothing but you. With his eyes sparkling, he did it. The fact that he felt love for me was, in the end, irrelevant. I was still his much more than he was mine. Erwin had had it all wrong, that day at dinner. When he had told me that I was poisoning Levi. I know now that I was cleaning him of the poison already flowing through his veins by taking it into my own. I wasn't poisoning Levi. I was poisoning myself, and he was my vessel.

Looking back, I wonder how we managed to sustain such passion with such consistency. It was a breathtaking love we had. The kind of affair that left everyone around us inspired, perhaps in a negative way. Thankfully, it wasn't intoxicating enough that I distanced myself from my friends—at least, I didn't distance myself from them anymore because of him than I did because of my own issues. There were days I felt panic attacks imminent from the moment I woke up, would take my medicine, would go to class, and would come back without saying a word. Other days the thought of being alone made my stomach turn. I kept studying. I kept working out—I even managed to hold my own in the ring against Mikasa for more than 30 seconds. I made more money working at the café. I applied for a summer internship at the prosecutor's office, so I had something to look forward to at the end of the semester.

Levi and I were hardly seen without each other. Sometimes my busy schedule, fueled by the incomparable determination and tenacity I was experiencing, kept us apart for a day at most. But we always found our way back to each other and collapsed into each other's arms. I'm not entirely sure what I was to him. A shoulder to lean on? A cute kid to fuck? Someone he could listen to when he was tired of talking? But I do know that he loved me, even if the way he defined love may have been different from the way that I did. He loved me. He really loved me. Maybe as much as I loved him. Maybe less. Maybe more. But he loved me and that was all I needed to know to continue to unknowingly poison myself.

Some nights we couldn't stop smiling at each other and saying stupid things (well, usually I said stupid things and he listened). Other nights we admired each other silently, transmitting our emotions through the sparks of our physical connections.

Some nights, though, Levi really took advantage of the way I spread myself out at his feet. He always apologized—in the way that only Levi Ackerman can apologize—afterward. I didn't even need the apologies, if I'm being honest. I didn't care.

I didn't care as long as I was his.

For my birthday, he promised to take me anywhere I wanted.

The actual day of, Mikasa and Armin took me out for dinner and then a big group of us went out to a club that I'd been reading about and wanted to try. Even though we were all underage. We just pregamed. I made sure that every single person in the club knew that it was my birthday and that I was now nineteen fucking years old. We danced and we went crazy, though Mikasa managed to keep a pretty good handle on things, the way she always did. The next day, though, after I'd gotten over my vicious hangover, I took Levi up on his offer. We hopped into his car and we drove to the city, to an absurdly fancy restaurant. We sat down like real pricks and had a full three-course meal, and he taught me how to do it as we went along.

"And you hold the silverware like this."

"Like this?"

"Close enough."

"Cool."

"Jesus, Eren, get your elbows off the table."

"What? Where am I supposed to put them?"

"Up your ass."

To which I responded with an inappropriately placed wink that made him nearly choke on his lemon-infused water. After we were finished and were walking back to the car, I realized that as expensive as the food had been, I wasn't filled at all. So, at my childish request, we went to the gardens to get pretzels. Then, in our relatively formal attire, stuffing our faces with cheesy pretzels, we sat down on the grass next to the pond and he turned and said to me, his face calm and warm and terrifyingly lovely, "Happy birthday, Eren."

I linked my arm through his and put my head on his shoulder and concentrated on the image of the stars in the water and the rhythm of his breaths.

When we got back to my room, itching to feel each other, I told him that I wanted to bottom.

"Huh?" he said, freezing as he took off his jacket. I fell backward onto the bed.

"I want to bottom today."

"You serious?"

"It's my birthday, you said you'd give me anything I wanted."

"Eren."

"Hm?"

"You do know that you can ask me that on days that aren't your birthday...right?"

I stuck my tongue out at him, and felt my body burn as he gave me a crooked smile. I watched, falling silent, as he slipped out of his jacket and let it fall to the floor. I let my eyes scan the details of his body—details that I had memorized—as he slowly, deliberately, tauntingly, unbuttoned his shirt. From the collar down, until I saw his muscles bulging from the tight undershirt beneath. Then he undid his belt, unzipped his pants, turned off the lights with his elbow as they fell around his ankles. I was blinded for a moment by the darkness. I could see nothing, but I heard him stepping forward. The bed shifted and I blinked, finally able to see his silhouette as he climbed onto the bed. He put his legs on either side of my body and sat up on his knees. I put my hands on his thighs and breathed in.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," I said.

"You know..." he began. His voice low and raspy and burrowing into my chest and through my limbs. Then he bent forward, still on his knees, and cupped my chin in his fingers. "You might regret asking to bottom."

A smile found its way to my lips.

"Oh yeah?" I murmured.

"Yeah." He kissed my lips, and then bit down on them. Hard. Then I noticed that there was something in his hands, now that my eyes were adjusting to the darkness. It was his belt. My entire body shuddered.

"All right then," I sighed. I sank down to the bed and spread my limbs out, so that he knew how utterly in control he was. "I'm yours. Make me regret it."

I saw him lick his lips and I wondered, for a split second, if maybe I should've asked for something different.

He started gently. The belt hanging around his neck, he unbuttoned my shirt. I let him move my limbs as he pleased, felt the tips of his cold fingers on my skin, until my torso was bare. He put his hand softly around my neck, then ran his fingertips down through the center, to the rim of my pants. My body arched ever so slightly, to meet his hands. I was a puppet and he held my strings in those delicate, bruised fingers of his. He leaned down and kissed me again, one hand pushing down against my chest. With his other hand, he smoothly grabbed the belt and pulled it from his neck. He became more aggressive then—his tongue pushed harder and deeper into me, his nails digging slightly into the skin of my chest. Then, with the hand holding the belt, he reached over and grabbed my arm. Grabbed my other arm. Still kissing me, biting down on my lip, so hard that I heard myself whimper and could taste blood, he put my wrists together and slammed them up against the bedpost.

"Ah!"

Then he tied my hands to the post with the belt. I was helpless, hanging from the bed, held up by only my wrists. I could already feel the pressure leaving red marks in my skin and I couldn't ignore the slight pain in my wrists. I must've been contorting my face in pain, because I saw him smiling, his hand still grasping my wrists. With his other hand he forced my chin up, digging his fingers into my cheeks. Then, suddenly, he pulled away, but kept his hand on my chin.

"We need a safeword," he said.

"A what?"

"A safeword."

"Stop isn't good enough?"

"No," he smirked. He squeezed my face more tightly and licked his lips again. "I wanna hear you beg for mercy."

I held my breath.

"Ravioli," I blurted. He narrowed his eyes, and I felt terribly awkward. "Sorry, first thing that came to mind..."

"Ravioli it is then."

I felt a little pang of fear then. I had never done anything like this. But I couldn't deny that I enjoyed the slight pain—the feeling of being completely and totally his, helpless, now physically as well as emotionally.

"Don't worry. I'll start off slow."

He kissed me again, but only for a moment, before he put his lips to the center of my chest and began to undo my pants. Within seconds he now had a second belt, and I was completely naked. I couldn't help but struggle a bit at first, from instinct, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, I think it turned him on more. Suddenly, without warning, he brought his face close to mine, grabbed my hair, and pulled my head back until I found myself staring up at him, neck arched, body straining. I struggled against the restraints. He had something different in his hands then. It was my undershirt. He looked so much taller than me all of a sudden. So very dominant and in control. My muscles began to relax. Without saying anything, he took the undershirt, twisted it a bit, and began to tie it around my eyes.

"W-wait—!"

"You're mine now, Eren," he whispered in my ear as the world went dark. "And if I want you to be blindfolded, you're gonna be blindfolded."

"Levi!"

I remembered the safeword, and knew that if I were to say 'ravioli', he would take the blindfold off and untie me and hold me until I told him I was okay.

But I didn't want to say it. I let myself be blinded.

I opened my mouth, my muscles tense in anticipation. I flinched as I felt the coldness of his palms on my stomach. Held my breath when I felt the tip of his tongue running along the insides of my open lips. I gasped then when pressed his palms down and sank his nails in, heard the felt the banging of my hands against the bedpost. His tongue moved down to my neck, and I arched my head back as the sensations began to explode. I'd heard about how intense it could be with sensation deprivation, but I didn't think it would be like this. There was something strange and mesmerizing and unbelievably hot about not being able to see a damn thing.

Suddenly I felt something cold against my hardening cock. I sighed out again and lifted myself up, feeling the tension of the belt. And then, at the same moment, a sharp pain erupted in my shoulder.

"Ahh!"

His tongue lapped up the blood from where his teeth had sunk into my skin, and the pleasure I felt was confusing even to me. To derive such sensations from pain...I became instantly harder. As I breathed out, I felt the breath stolen from me when he put his fingers against my tongue, thrusting them into my mouth. In the darkness, both the pain and the pleasure were heightened to new levels. He bit down again, and then dragged his tongue down to my erect nipple.

"Mm, Levi..." My words muffled by his fingers.

"Louder."

I felt him clamp his teeth down and I screamed his name, and he put his fingers in deeper. The grip on my cock tightened and I cried out again. Then he began to pump it, slowly. Even so slow I felt it, and dug my feet into the mattress. He moved faster, biting down harder, making me whimper.

"St...Stop!"

He just bit harder. He took his fingers from my mouth and pressed down against my chest. My body was in a terribly uncomfortable position. But the combination of that tension, that pain, with the ridiculous pleasure on my cock and from his lips, was electrifying. Heightened even more by the emotional state of being totally submissive to him. I knew that when I told him to stop, he wouldn't, and it made the act of saying it that much more sensational.

"Ah—I'm—!"

"No you're not."

He stopped abruptly, leaving me breathless on the edge of orgasm. I felt every sensation on my body stop, and my muscles relaxed again, suspended every so slightly by the belt. After a few moments, and hearing sounds that I couldn't recognize, I felt his breath on my lips again, and I opened them. Instinct.

"Say my name," he murmured.

"Levi..."

"Again."

"Levi."

Then he brought his lips to my ear and his voice became gentler.

"Doing all right?"

I nodded wordlessly. Then I remembered him saying that he would start off slow, and my stomach churned. My cock was throbbing and my breathing was ragged.

But I didn't want to stop.

"Good," he said. He bit down on my ear and, ever so slowly, put his hand around my neck. Squeezed until I reflexively gasped. "Because I haven't heard you begging yet."

He tightened his clutch around my throat, and his other hand ran up and down my naked body. I heard my own breath being caught, found it a little bit harder to breathe, struggled reflexively against the restraints and still blinded. I had no idea where his fingers would move next, where I would feel his tongue. What seemed like an eternity later, I felt a new sensation run across my chest. Surprised and frightened, I cringed and pulled against the restraints, only to fall limp to the bed again. He let go of my throat and I took a deep breath in. But it was ragged. I still didn't know what it was that he was running along my chest. It was smooth and dry.

Straddling me, he pressed his crotch down against mine. I clenched my fingers into fists and moaned, let the sensations erupt. In the next moment he moved the mystery object up to my outstretched neck. Wrapped it around. I realized, as I heard the clanks and felt the object tighten, that it was another belt—mine. He secured it around my neck, tightening it so that I just slightly felt the pressure against my throat. Even though I couldn't see, I knew he was using it as a collar. Something I hadn't quite been expecting. Not that I had been expecting any of this.

Once it was secured, he pulled. Hard. Sitting down more heavily against me. I cried out and arched my body, and felt his lips above mine. Smiling, maybe. I tried to imagine the dominant expression on his face and I became weak with desire. Then everything moved quickly. He untied my wrists from the bedpost, keeping them bound together, and pushed me forcefully onto my stomach. I tensed my muscles and resisted, and he could sense it. I knew he could. So he pulled back on the collar and dug his knee into my back, forcing my neck back but my body down at the same time. I screamed out in a combination of exhilaration and pain, now feeling the pressure of the belt on my neck, making it harder to breath, as well as the pressure of his knee in my back and the belt still binding my wrists together.

"A—!" I couldn't even cry out. My breath was leaving me. I was getting lightheaded and any ounce of resistance in my muscles disappeared. "L-Levi, please..."

He released tension in the belt and put his hand to the back of my head and forced it down onto the bed. I struggled to catch my breath, seeing colors in the darkness behind the makeshift blindfold. Then I felt his finger tracing the line of my spine, making me tingle, making me itch more for his touch. He was making me absolutely desperate. His lips fell to the center of my back and his tongue traced the line down, making me moan against the sheets of the bed. I felt his tongue swerving along my skin and just ignored my other senses. Blinded and immobile. Heart racing. Suddenly, I felt his cold palms against the cheeks of my ass, and before I could react, he spread them. In the next moment I felt a cold, wet sensation in my asshole and I flinched instinctively. After the initial moment of surprise, though, I let the pleasure run its course. His tongue moved in circles around the rim, and then moved in deeper—feeling at once terribly unnatural and terribly breathtaking.

"Nn..."

As his tongue moved deeper, then pulled out, over and over, flicking in circles , I felt the tug of the collar again on my neck. Then the cold sensation disappeared and I felt hollow—not for long, though. Because after a moment I felt a sharp, intense pain in my ass. The slick, long feeling of his fingers, covered in lube, thrusting inside of me. I cried out and bit down on the sheets of the bed. It felt like he was carving me out, disrupting the tightness. For a moment I regretted this. If this was the pain from his fingers, I couldn't imagine the agony of what was to come next...

I didn't have much time to think about it.

He pulled back, hard, on the collar, forcing me up onto my elbows. He withdrew his fingers and I let out the breath that had been trapped in my throat. As I reeled, he took my bound wrists and tied them again to the bedpost, this time leaving me suspended on my knees. I let my head hang as he supported my hips.

"I'm going to fuck you until you don't remember your own name," he hissed into my ear. His words struck unexpected fear in me. The word was on the tip of my tongue—ravioli.

If I say it then he'll stop and we can go back to our nice vanilla sex.

Then I took a moment to imagine him fucking me until I couldn't remember my own name.

Screw that, fuck me senseless.

He gripped my hips and I bit down on my lower lip in preparation. Then he held me in place and, while I was tied and helpless, went inside of me. The pain was, as I expected, practically unbearable. My head reared back and I cried out. The bed shook as I struggled against the restraints, my knees nearly buckling. I would have fallen to my stomach if it weren't for the belt tying me and his hands gripping my hips. He entered slowly, easing into me, making me flare up in pain.

"Ah, sto...p!"

I heard him groan and felt him stop, and assumed that he was all the way in. Then he began to thrust, moving back and then pushing back into me without mercy. I forced my face down and was deafened, blinded, by the pain. The feeling of his nails digging into the flesh of my hips. The belt digging into my wrists. But, as he moved, the pain subsided to a strange, numbing pleasure. My pained whimpers became moans of pleasure. At one point, he hit a spot that made me feel pleasure so sweet that I screamed his name without restraint. I hoped, even restrained and blindfolded, that I had given him this same pleasure. He began to move faster, gripping me harder. Then he grasped my erect cock and I was completely lost in the swirl of ecstasy. In the midst of it all I felt him grab the collar and pull again, and suddenly the pleasure was combined with the exhilaration of the asphyxiation.

I begged him for mercy. He denied it, fucking me harder each time I cried out for him to stop. We came at the same time—I felt him shake, felt his cock throbbing inside of me, as my outcries were cut off by the belt around my neck.

He undid my restraints and took off my blindfold and I collapsed onto the bed, my body shaken and my mind jumbled. He gathered the soiled sheets and threw them into my hamper, put his boxers back on, turned on the lights, and brought me a glass of water and a piece of chocolate. Then he sat beside me on the bed, rubbed the red marks on my wrists, and then stroked my hair.

"Was that all right? You feeling okay?" he asked. Concern in his voice. Dazed and lightheaded, I smiled at him. When he brushed my cheek with the back of his hand, I began to laugh. "What?"

"I'm just trying to imagine what it would've been like if I had started screaming 'ravioli' at the top of my lungs."

He smiled back at me, brushed my hair back from my forehead, and placed a kiss there.

"I would've stopped in a heartbeat."

"I know. I trust you."

"Good."

"I love you, Levi."

"I love you, too, Eren."

mwahaha i now curse you to think of kinky gay sex every time you eat ravioli

(be safe kids. use safewords. like ravioli. or dickbutt. anything really.)

xoxo