hiiiii

i have to say ive been a bit bowled over by some comments recently...everyone is far too nice its honestly improved this month no end. ive been having a really rough old time the past few weeks, so much so that writing has slowed to a trundle and im not able to keep up with what i set out. reading u guys' thoughts and knowing some people are interested in where its headed has really made it a lot better, so thank u endlessly 3

im not sure again if there'll be anything next week, but rest assured im still working on it as often as i can

warning for the lactose intolerant: some cheese ahead
warning for the spice intolerant: some spice ahead

It took Petra several minutes of furious confusion to gather her things in the dark shack and throw them across her body.

If Levi thought that storm was bad, he hadn't seen anything yet. She'd show him a real storm. She'd show him a goddamn hurricane.

Oruo jumped and squeaked when she charged out of the shack into the muddy, moonlit woodland of the outside.

"Petra! I was just about to look for you-"

"Well you found me." She snapped, not looking at him, and launched herself into the trees.

"For fuck's - ugh - wait up." Oruo grumbled, chasing after her.

Within ten minutes the squad were re-assembled at the starting platform. Petra's jaw was clenched and she was staring hotly at the wooden slats beneath her feet. If they weren't drenched from the rain, she was certain they would have ignited from her gaze.

"Dismissed. Return to the barracks."

It was all he said, and once again, he dissolved away into the darkness. She was starting to hate that she could predict when he was going to do that.

Petra was mute as the rest of squad chattered about how soaked they were and the utter failure of the exercise as they walked across the dark field back to the barracks. Mud squelched underfoot, and the wet grass glinted slightly in the moon and distant lamps of the compound, though the gloom still made the consistency of each step somewhat uncertain.

Gunther quickly picked up on Petra's silence;

"What's up Red? Did you struggle to get to cover in time?"

She didn't respond, eyes fixed to the grass. He frowned.

Eld caught his eye with a glint of worry, then looked to her;

"Whatever happened out there, it can't be as bad as mine and Gunther's trip. You'd think a storm was a prime opportunity for some fun conversations, but he barely spoke to me once we made it into the shack."

"That's because you insisted on playing 'I-spy' in the dark. There was nothing to spy!"

"You gotta get creative man. I spy with my little eye something beginning with with 'L'" He pointed at Gunther, "Loser!"

Oruo growled, grumpy from his solo ordeal; "How about something beginning with 'S' - 'Shut your hole'."

Eld batted him over the back of the head and he swiftly bit his tongue.

Levi wasn't in the barracks. She supposed he might have been in his room, but there was no light under the door, and, given the situation, it seemed unlikely. They were all too cold to go to bed yet anyway. She stood stock-still in the corridor, while the guys busied themselves; Oruo fetched some buckets to wash their muddy boots, while Gunther started the fire and Eld put water on the boil for tea. He leant through the doorway and eyed her with concern; she hadn't moved beyond the point at which she'd absent-mindedly hung up her soaking coat and jacket when she first came in.

"Hey - you alright?"

She simply stared emptily back at him.

The frown line between his brow deepened, "Why don't you come in? You should get some tea, warm-up."

"I'm going out." She replied, shutting the door behind her.

—

"Wait-"

Well fuck.

Eld scratched his head and wandered back into the common room.

Gunther glanced up from the fireplace, "That Petra?"

"She left."

They looked at each other for a minute, uneasy.

"Tch - Outta the way shit-beard." Oruo grumbled barrelling past Eld, water splashing out all over the floor from his clearly overfilled bucket. In his other hand he held an empty one, towel over his shoulder. He plopped himself down on the sofa and laid out the towel on the floor. Beside him, three pairs of soiled boots stood in a row. He pulled a sponge out of the empty bucket and dunked it in the full one, wringing it out. Loudly trickling water was the only sound in the room.

Only then did Oruo catch the concern of his comrades.

"What?"

"Did you see anything?" Eld asked him directly.

"I'm seeing things all the time." He sassed, "For example, right now I'm seeing a goatee that could do with a trim."

Gunther slapped a hand to his forehead. "Moron." He muttered, returning his attention to the kindling.

"The time for I-spy is over." Eld scolded, "I meant when you found the Captain and Petra in the woods - did you see anything?"

Oruo mindlessly picked up a boot, squeezing out the sponge over it. Watered-down mud ran off the it into the empty pail.

"It was pitch black, I'm not sure what I was supposed to see. Are you making tea or what?"

Eld scowled, "Yeah." He moved back into the kitchenette, to the now rapidly boiling pot of water. It was close to bubbling up over the sides.

"Well something definitely happened." Gunther uttered quietly, using tongs to push more kindling towards the struggling flame.

"Mm." Eld replied, "Maybe she messed up and he gave her an earful."

"I was thinking that." Gunther added, "I'm not sure she's ever been reprimanded by him one on one. She might've taken it to heart."

"Exactly. As the Captain's favourite I reckon that would have hit her extra hard."

"Or…" Oruo said, placing the now clean boot down on his other side, "Maybe they fucked."

Eld and Gunther fell quiet for a second, staring at him in disbelief, then burst out laughing;

"Yeah right." Gunther chuckled.

"Good one man." Eld guffawed, pouring the boiling water over the tea leaves.

Oruo made a face, picking up the next dirty boot.

Poor Eld. Poor Gunther and Oruo. They were so wonderful, really. But there wasn't space in Petra's mind right now for their concern.

How could he just disappear like that again? Without a goddamn word? He hadn't even called her off to one side after the squad's dismissal - surely this was something that required discussion?

Her blood was at boiling point. She wasn't going to let the events of the evening slip away like a lazy morning's dream. It wasn't over. That couldn't be it.

Near-running, she tore down the office-building hallway past a customarily flustered and still-awake Moblit on his way to the lab;

"Gosh Petra - did you get caught up in the storm? Oh, your f-"

She didn't even look at him, there would be time to apologise later, right now there was only one goal. Heart hammering, she sped to that familiar wooden door, blasting through it without so much as a knock.

Her impassioned breath hurtled in and out of her as she stood in the middle of his office staring daggers.

"You!" She huffed between ragged pants.

He didn't look at her immediately. He was dressed in his cleaning attire, complete with rag around his head, apparently having already changed into a fresh grey long sleeve and slacks underneath his apron. In his gloved hand he held a long match, and he was impassively lighting another candle on the desk.

She briefly took in the scene, a faint smell of bleach, a full bucket of mucky water sitting on a towel on the floor by the bookcase, dirty rag draped over the side. His boots sat on the towel pristinely, uniform trousers and shirt hung up above them on a hanger off of a shelf, dripping slightly as they'd already clearly been met with some furious scrubbing. On the desk, his harness and ODM gear were laid out, having been partially taken apart, presumably next in line to be cleaned.

Fascinating really that he'd managed to do so many things in the time since he'd dismissed them, though, she suspected that this would only be the first of several laundering attempts of the items.

At her single word his eyes flitted to her, then to her feet, which were bare. She'd furiously thrown her boots off by the entrance to the office building, hands shaking with irritation as she sat on the cold, hard floor, peeling off her dirt-caked socks, because dammit, as raging as she was, she wasn't about to traipse mud through his office. She cared about him too much for that.

…

And besides she didn't want a dirty floor to scare him to death, that was her job. That didn't prevent the soles of her feet freezing on the stone slabs of the corridor as she'd raced along it though.

She must have looked a state.

"You can't just-" She began again, realising that her fire had taken over her brain, and was burning up every sentence as it appeared, rendering her furious thoughts utterly incoherent.

He simply watched her inexpressively, quietly waving out the match and placing it on his desk.

"It's." She bit out, then grit her teeth, growling with irritation as she struggled to find the right words…any words.

Why wasn't he saying anything? Face beet red, she began to ferociously pace;

"You're - a peach tree - you-"

"Huh?"

She stopped pacing and looked at him.

"A peach tree. Hange said that y- what?" She snapped on catching his expression - his eyes which had dropped to the desk, and the smallest hint of a smile curling on his lips.

Was he…smirking? Petra sucked air in again, she wasn't going to cry in front of him. Not like this. She took a trembling step forward, her voice much shriller than even she was expecting;

"Is this some kind of a joke to you?"

"Joke?"

Immediately his eyes snapped back to her, his face set in a shadowed frown. On mining the grey depths of his irises she found a trace of hurt.

"Do you think this is something I would joke about?"

Her breath hitched as he came around to the front of the desk holding her eye-line the whole way, and stopped a metre or so from her. He had such an accomplished way of pushing whoever he was talking to onto the back foot.

"I…don't…" She swallowed, collecting herself, "…then, why were you smiling?"

"You said I was a peach tree." He replied flatly.

Oh.

Her eyes fell to her frozen feet, her fists pulsing by her sides. Even through her haze of wrath she could see his point there.

He leant back on the desk and folded his arms, scrutinising her,

"Been called many things before, but that one was a first."

"Fine." She sniffed, teeth sinking deep into her bottom lip, then her words crossly shot from her like rapid-fire;

"But that doesn't give you the right to just - ! - and then zip the hell away as if nothing even-"

"What would you have had me do?"

His voice was flat and quiet, his eyes soft. Blues and greys glimmered through them like a sparkling kaleidoscope and she was getting lost, falling into them-

"No!" She shouted, mostly at herself. Then with a deep breath, "I don't care how pretty you are, you don't get to just look at me like that and have me forget about it."

"Pretty?" He blinked, "I wasn't trying to do that." There wasn't any hint of anger in him, he was completely collected, the antithesis to her sparking volatility.

"What would you have had me do?"

He asked it again with a touch more emphasis. It felt like a question he'd learned watching the Commander negotiate.

Petra averted her eyes.

"Not - that." Her voice wobbled, but she forced it into compliance, "Not making me feel like I was something to you then disappearing without a word."

She tentatively glanced back at him.

A quiet second passed between them before he broke the contact, thin brows knit.

He opened his mouth and she heard his breath waver a little. Then he uncrossed his arms and began removing his cleaning gloves, busying himself…unusual for him.

"I, uh…" His brow twitched, and there again the shyness emerged, tugging at her heartstrings. He was blinking more than she'd ever seen before, and placed the gloves behind him on the desk, "This…"

Watching him struggle like this was doing things to her. She had the overwhelming urge to throw her arms around him, tell him it was alright, to forget it, stroke his hair, squeeze his hand reassuringly. But darn it he didn't deserve that, not until she had an explanation.

"I - was concerned about Oruo showing up, asking questions…" He said, "I thought it was better to discuss it first."

Oh.

Of course, he must have heard that the storm'd died down; realised the guys would be back outside waiting for his instruction - and with Oruo stationed the nearest to them, it only made sense that of their searching squad mates he'd find them first.

But that didn't explain his disappearing act afterwards.

She cleared her throat insistently, "So you just assumed I would follow you here to 'discuss' it?"

"…was I wrong?"

Damn him. How did he always do it? How did he always come out on top, no matter the situation? It was infuriating.

She snorted angrily, "And what if I hadn't come here? Would that have been it?"

"Of course not, but," His brow twitched again, and again he looked away, "If you hadn't, then I might have thought you regretted it. The choices we make only hold meaning in how they affect the next choice, so…"

She glared at him, chest heaving. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay mad.

She pulled in another deep breath, "So, what?"

"So…what's your next choice?"

The question immediately cleared her spinning mind. Everything aligned within her as she replied;

"You. I choose you. I always will."

His frown melted and he looked a touch startled. It was the most expressive she'd ever seen him.

"That's-"

"Less practical than you meant? Yes."

The reason Petra got so angry so quickly, was because she cared so deeply. She put her all into things, she was loyal, and once she'd decided something was worth her time, she'd stick with it until the end, no matter how perilous the journey, how rocky the road. Her core beliefs never wavered, even once. She was a born scout: devoting one's heart to the cause required unshakable diligence, and those comrades who truly possessed such a quality, were bonded both in life and death.

He was looking at her, his lips slightly parted, his brows slack.

"I can't give you…"

"Levi." Her voice came suddenly and strongly, "I knew what I was giving up when I enlisted. No scout joins with half a heart, something I think you know. I've thought about my priorities, and I know that my life will probably be short…but if it can be sweet too, then that's all the better. And just being around you has…" She collected herself, "…has made it so much sweeter."

He was a statue, watching her with a troubled expression.

"It's not my intention to distract you from your role and it never will be. I could never forgive myself if I did such a thing. But - and I hope this isn't asking too much - if I can lift you up, help you be your best, maybe even have some small moments of your free time," Her left hand was squeezing her right so tightly that there couldn't have been any blood left in it, "…then that's what I want to do…if you'll have me." She brought herself to look at him directly, passion flickering once more; "Screw it, even if you won't I'm still going to make sure you're eating and sleeping properly, because damn it Captain, Maria knows-"

The warmth of his strong, slender hands pushed in the at the tops of her arms and he now stood right before her, the ice of his eyes harpooning her into silence,

"I can't prioritise you."

"I - know."

"Nothing about our working relationship can change at all. You screw up in drills or in the field, I'll reprimand you. I won't think twice about putting you on toilet duty. I won't be nice."

"Yes."

"I mean it. Even if you're inches from death and my orders from Erwin are to do nothing, then that's what I have to do."

It was clear to her that he was saying it for himself as much as he was saying it for her. She swallowed with resolve, and gave a small nod;

"Yes."

"This doesn't benefit you in any way."

"That depends if you see happiness as a benefit, sir." Then licked her lips, a mindless habit, but she noticed his eyes slip to them for the shortest second.

His brow twitched again.

"Pet…"

Petra's eyes widened. He dropped his gaze down, unsure of himself.

A faint blush rose on her cheeks, her heart fluttering like a baby bird. He'd called her 'Pet' once before in this very room, by accident, and the Commander of all people was present. Not a word was spoken about it by any of the three of them, but there was an ubiquitous strangeness in the air afterwards, and Petra hadn't allowed herself to hope for what it might mean. But now…

"Levi…" She whispered, bringing her right hand up to his cheek and caressing it, her thumb moved in tiny back and forth motions across his skin, which was unbelievably soft, and a small part of her wondered about his shaving routine.

In response, he took his hand from her shoulder and brought it to the her wrist. He gently moved her hand away from his face. Something about his expression meant that she didn't feel disheartened by the action though, quite the opposite, and she was proven right as he then unbuttoned the cuff of her shirt, and in a deliberate, measured fashion, rolled her sleeve up to her elbow. Her hand relaxed and she watched in dazed fascination as he ghosted his fingers up the skin of her forearm so lightly it was almost ticklish, then returned his grip to the back of her wrist and held it in place as he moved his lips to the sensitive skin at the inner part and pressed a soft kiss to it.

He continued to kiss that same spot with tender precision, as his other hand slid lazily around to the small of her back, directing her to step in closer to him. She tentatively complied, bringing their bodies almost flush against one another, but still an agonising inch of empty air remained.

He brought his lips away from her wrist and finally looked at her.

.

Levi was lost for words, and it appeared that she was too. She gazed back at him, startled doe-eyes fluttering, the low candlelight glittering within them, just like it had a thousand times before in this very office. Her eyes always got him, it was exactly why he'd always thought they were stupid - too alluring, like they'd been divinely designed to disarm whichever poor bastard looked into them, like they were a trap from an old myth Erwin would bang on about from time to time. A honeytrap.

The darkness of the supply shack made it easy, the whole situation might've been a mad delusion brought about by the freak storm; but in the low, flickering light of his office it was suddenly completely preposterous that she was looking at him with those eyes.

He was an ugly man, he'd been told as much, but it'd never bothered him. Where he came from he hardly had time to be concerned with it. So now, he didn't understand at all what she was seeing - he couldn't even fathom it - because it was inconceivable that it was him, and yet, after everything she'd said, how she'd reacted to the evening's events, it had to be. It was a beautiful equation that didn't balance at all, and he was certainly undeserving of it.

A little sparkle moved through her liquid amber irises, and she brought her free hand up to her chest and unbuckled the top strap of her harness, then she moved it to her collar, and began to unbutton her shirt, gazing at him all the while. He tightened his grip on her wrist, and grit his teeth. He couldn't control his breathing, couldn't prevent his eyes wandering down as with each undone button more and more flawless skin became visible until the tops of her breasts peeked between the open cotton 'v' of her shirt. They were displayed in a basic white bra with only a simple lace trim decorating their roundness. They weren't particularly large, perhaps a little more than a handful, but presented in such a delicate way, pert and full and perfect.

He took a shaky breath in and redirected his eyes to a far off corner of the room.

As much as he wanted this, he still deeply disliked that he was not in control of his crude, animal response to her, and his desire was once again palpable and threatening to depose any rationality that remained in him.

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet Captain…" Within her quiet voice, there was a smile.

Catching her eyes once more he replied;

"Speak for yourself."

Then glanced down to her bare feet.

Her musical giggle was cut short by his ardent kiss, his hand on her back forcing her to occupy the frozen inch of empty space that remained, his body crying out for her closeness, her touch. They fit together so perfectly, heated bodies curling around each other, aching and desperate to blur every boundary that lay between them.

Somewhere within the euphoric haze of lips pressed ravenously against one another's, Levi realised he'd forgone the rag around his head, and his apron. He felt like a lunatic; the tiny voice telling him to check that they weren't crumpled and strewn about the floor was fading ever further into the background and, as he broke from the kiss, he found that he was instead frantically trying to undo the remaining buttons of her shirt. Grumbling in frustration at how fiddly they were, he gave up and just ripped the garment apart, popping off the buttons which rattled as they hit the floorboards. He must've loved her that he didn't even stop to check where all the buttons had landed; that he didn't even feel the need to sweep them away to one side.

In kind, she dragged his grey shirt over his head between her breaths of desperate excitement and couldn't contain her awed gasp as she lay her eyes on his sculpted torso. Throwing the garment to the side, her small, clean hands moved instantly to his muscles, which began involuntarily rippling with her touch. It was at that point he realised how long it had been since anyone had touched his skin at all, and he was hesitant to admit that his twitchy response might have been borne out of nerves. But, he wanted this; Erwin was right, he would regret not basking in this feeling if he'd missed his chance to, he was implausibly lucky in the first place that the universe had gifted him the option, and so he wasn't going to let any worry about the uncharted territory of the experience thwart it.

For a minute or so he simply watched as she discovered him; a corporeal cartographer, a queen surveying her new kingdom.

The hankering look in her eyes as she took him in was almost an out of body experience; he was caught somewhere between uncomfortable disbelief that anyone could view him with such desire, and blossoming elation that she was seeing him in such a way. With a snatched breath, she tracked her fingers down the dark trail of hair which ran south from his belly button and her fingers slipped under the waistband of his trousers, giving it a suggestive tug. He swallowed as she undid them, and all at once the warmth of her hand was emanating through the thin fabric of his underwear, fully encompassing his erection and he heard a lustful groan, only afterwards realising it had come from his own throat.

.

Petra's heart beat wildly as she cupped him, the feel of his hard cock under her hand and the growl he emitted was threatening to push her over the edge already, and she was still almost fully clothed. She would have been overstimulated whatever the situation, as it had been over a year since she'd slept with anyone, but the fact that this was her Captain…Levi…the most incredible and beautiful person she'd ever met was driving her crazy, and her brain was fuzzy with craving. She almost felt the need to intermittently pinch herself; this couldn't be reality, it was too close to her dreams.

They began to speed up once more, Levi's breath quivering as he slid her torn shirt off her shoulders to the ground and undid the front of her trousers in an urgent and fumbling frenzy. He pulled them down a little, before lifting her up and sat her on the desk. It took Petra a moment to follow through his logic and she blinked in confusion until he began drawing the tight fabric from her legs, and she straightened them to make it easier for him.

The next thing she knew she was sat in only her white undergarments, legs dangling from his desk as he trailed kisses up them and came to a stop, kneeling before her, his hands on her thighs, from beneath his dark hair and lashes his blue-grey eyes danced with flashes of that just-controlled abandon that was so unique to him. God, he looked so good between her thighs. The air was cold and causing goosebumps, but her skin was on fire and electricity reverberated through her. She was going to burst.

.

No-one had ever looked so perfect as Petra Ral. The way the pink of her parted lips matched her flushed cheeks, the way her tawny eyes always, always gleamed, the swells of her breasts framed by their elegant bra and the dip of her little waist, right down to her dainty, cold little feet. Every shape of her was impeccable, through her intensive training she was toned with muscle, but she was also so soft and curving in ways that should've been impossible given their regime.

Levi was not a spiritual or religious man, but as he knelt before her, he knew he was worshipping at the altar of a goddess.

Shaking, he brought himself to his feet and pushed himself against her, entangling a hand in her hair and kissing her again to her heated hum. His other hand moved up her body, staying just beneath her bra and he withdrew from the kiss to look at her.

.

Petra almost giggled. Was he asking her permission to touch her? It was suddenly ludicrous to her that the world saw him as a cold, heartless criminal. Everyone was totally blind, and she was the luckiest son of a gun living that she could see him. Biting her lip and gazing into his eyes, she placed her hand over his and guided it across the top of her bra.

.

Levi moaned loudly at the feel of it. He rocked against her, groaning uncontrollably as he massaged her breast with his hand, with his other hand pushing her body against his to increase the friction. She gasped at the increased contact between her legs; suddenly, so little separated them. He needed more.

They both needed more.

He freed her breasts after some awkward groping of the bra's clasp, throwing it off to the side and almost salivated at the sight of her beaded pink nipples in the honeyed light, the perfect shape of them. Hungrily, he brought his lips to one, and sucked and licked at it, struggling to ignore the now insufferable aching of his cock. He continued to rut against her to try and ease the discomfort and she whined breathily;

"…more…Levi…"

A wild snarl escaped him, partly furious that his body wasn't letting him savour each moment, too desperate and too touch-starved for too long. Pressing his forehead to hers, he gripped the edges of her underwear and she lifted herself a little, to allow him to remove them.

An instinctive, carnal "uh" sounded from him as he beheld the golden ginger-blonde fuzz of hair between her thighs and he impulsively moved to stroke her, his eyes glued to his own hand's movements.

"Here…" She whispered, guiding him to that sensitive spot, showing him how to move his fingers and his breath came in uncontrollable stutters as a warm wetness met his skin.

"Y-you're…" He quietly stammered, then followed the glint in her eyes that told him to move his hand more, build the pace.

Petra was fighting not to lose herself completely or cry with overwhelming joy. As she began to fade in and out of reality, riding the easy waves of nirvana, she leant back, her hands supporting her on the desk and arched her back so that her tits pointed upwards, and her head fell back, fully exposing her neck to him. Her soul sparkled and bursts of tiny glittering tingles began to spread from her vulva outwards through the rest of her. She wanted to last longer, and so she didn't look at him, instead focusing on the wooden beams of the ceiling, but pleasure was overpowering her, and his fingers rubbing against her clit were eliciting higher and higher cries that she couldn't contain if she'd tried.

There was a clap as she roughly grabbed his arm, halting him. She assuaged his momentary shock with a small smile, and eased the pressure on his arm to instead guide his hand to her entrance. The sharp, gorgeous lines of his face and chest seemed to come spectacularly into her view as his fingers slid inside her,

"Ah!"

For a moment they stopped, breath heavy, getting used to the change.

"Like this…" She demonstrated with her hand and he immediately complied. A master of the physical, he used her responses as a guide, constantly refining his movements, discovering what made her sing.

"Yes!"

Her body was hot and wet around him, and Levi was concentrated and curious as he drew increasingly loud and sensual sounds from her. His lips parted in awe as he watched her exquisite expressions, her tits, pert in the candlelight, then back to her face. His underwear had never been so oppressively tight. There was still a part of him that didn't believe what was happening, but it was just so hard to care when he was so close to making her scream, when he was but moments away from hearing that pure sound that he'd spent countless nights and showers imagining. He wanted her to come for him, and because of him. She was the most perfect person he'd ever laid eyes on. Her muscles began to tighten around his fingers and she gasped,

"You…Levi-"

"…huh?"

He slowed the motions of his hand while she swallowed, sitting more upright,

"I…want you."

Words he'd never heard anyone say to him before.

Slowly he withdrew his hand from her and froze a moment as she sat forward, delicately caressing the muscles of his chest again. She pecked him lightly on his lips and palmed his erection through his underwear.

"Can I?"

He gave a stilted nod and she released him from his boxers.

"You're…trembling…" She breathed, running her fingers along the silky smooth, hot skin of his penis.

Then she was kissing him lightly again, chastely, almost as if she weren't gradually moving her hand up and down his length, slicked by the drops of liquid that had formed at the tip. Levi returned her sweet kisses as she moved her hand faster and he squeezed her breasts. It took every atom of his self-control not to jerk his hips into her. Suddenly, he broke the kiss and placed both hands and strongly onto the desk either side of her in an attempt to steady himself.

"s…stop…" He mumbled into her hair, and she did, bringing a hand to his cheek and guiding him to face her.

"Too much?" She asked gently and he nodded.

Then, "Do you want to stop?" Her soft voice continued as her hand moved affectionately through the short bristly hairs of his undercut.

He took some heavy breaths then shook his head. He just needed a moment to calm down, or it would all be over too quickly.

"No." He replied, then took her earlobe between his teeth and tugged.

She hummed, massaging his upper arms and back as and he moved to her neck again, inhaling her, pecking her. Feeling slightly less wild and slightly more ready, he parted from her and they caught eyes.

The air was cold around his cock, but he already knew too well the warm, wet paradise that awaited him.

"Are you sure this is ok?" He said lowly, and she squeezed his hand.

"What do you think?" She smiled.

He cleared his throat,

"I don't wanna uh…"

He was breathing heavily like he'd done an intense workout. He swallowed,

"I don't wanna get you pregnant…"

Petra leant in, nuzzling his nose.

"You won't."

He gave her an intense, but questioning look and she laughed lightly.

"You've been signing off the rations forms sir, I'm surprised you haven't noticed the request for women's contraceptive tablets. I mean…that box certainly wasn't ticked when I first joined your-"

He stopped her with a kiss,

"Levi." He reiterated, "None of this 'sir' bullshit."

She smiled again as they parted and he stood against her. She angled herself up off the desk a little to make the position easier, and placed him in the right spot, and he lifted her, taking her weight from the desk into his arms as she did so.

She was so wet that he glided into her easily, in one smooth long motion. He quivered at the incredible sensation. He wasn't going to last long. He lowered her slightly again, so she was part-rested on the desk.

Petra pulled in an anticipatory breath, getting used to his size, relaxing her body to accommodate him. He was larger than she'd expected, and even though she was impossibly aroused, it was going to take a moment or two to get used to it.

He was leant slightly over her, his hands strongly clasping her ass but he was unmoving, concentrating. She brought her hands up either side of his neck,

"Are you ok?" She said softly, and he gave a small nod.

"Are you?" He faintly choked out after a moment.

"Yes Levi." She replied, and pulled him down into a searing kiss, and he began to slowly move his hips, fucking her as she was half sat on the desk, while she clung on to him, legs clamping around his waist, arms folding around the back of his neck, and leant her head back in bliss, listening to the intermittent, unrestrained moans of his low, velvet voice. A symphony.

The slapping of their skin, the creaking of the rocking desk and the worrying wobbling of the candles all went unnoticed as they fell into each other, souls crashing together with each sigh and pant, each lascivious thrust releasing them from the torment of their months upon months of anguished abstinence.

The smell of their sex rose from their joining as they became wanton, pure, grunting physical beings, thoughtless in the pursuit of the heaven they could only reach through the total surrendering of the self into each other, spirits flowing as one through the connection of their bodies.

Vibrations of golden euphoria pulsed through Petra's every cell as she watched the beads of sweat form across his forehead, strands of his ebony hair sticking a little to his cheeks, falling in front of his eyes, azure, intense.

Levi hadn't been able to stop trembling since she'd first unbuttoned her shirt. He felt both strong and weak, through his shaking adrenaline he thrust powerfully into her, taking her for his own: an urge he realised in that moment that he'd had since he first encountered her face to face in the trees of ODM run three, when he'd first borne witness to her blazing spirit. The desk screeched along the floorboards with the force of his movement, and a section of his gear clanked to the ground. He stopped at the sound, and Petra giggled, glancing over her shoulder;

"You can request a new one…aren't you humanity's strongest?"

He moaned at her words, pushing his tongue into her mouth. He would show her who was the strongest. He had the overwhelming urge to cover her with his whole body, to envelop her, to stop the filth of the world from touching her. He brought a hand back down to her clit and began lightly circling it with his fingers as he slowly started to rock his hips once more.

She fisted a hand into his hair, her grip almost painful;

"…l…levi…" She cried weakly as she reached her summit in a spasm of full colour, her body pressing tighter and tighter around him, as though it needed to take him, to keep him inside her forever.

Not a second later fireworks of ecstasy exploded throughout his entire body, as he came forcefully, emptying himself into her in excited, diminishing jets.

Instantly his lips were on hers again, hands wandering across each other's bodies, trying to hold on to the feeling for as long as they could before they cooled and dissipated, collapsing onto the desk.

Petra lay back, and Levi was bent forward, covering her with his torso. She noticed with a contented smile the cleaning gloves that he'd removed which were laid neatly on the desk by her head. Levi's nose fell into the spot at the base of her neck and he breathed her in as she sighed; exhausted and fulfilled.

For a while they lay, a heap of decelerating breaths between the flickering flames. It was only then, within the peaceful ease of the afterglow that Levi realised that that was his first time. He'd been touched and touched others minimally in his teens, but he'd never done that. And yet, it had hardly mattered at all. The experience had been almost entirely instinctual, driven by a series of insistent sparks that had over time become impossible to ignore.

It all began to make sense to him - why some people spent their lives chasing this. Hell, he actually began to curse his title, his commitments and duties that now came screaming back to him; a cutting, icy wind through his blissful, happy haze.

Why couldn't he just live here, within her? Her warm bosom pushing into his bare chest with every relaxed breath, her gentle hands drawing directionless patterns across his back, and mindlessly entwining in his hair.

But, it couldn't be. Not while the world was the way it was. He lifted himself up and away from her and looked down. She gazed back.

In her honey eyes, love.

He wondered if she could see it in his.

A small breath drew from him into the atmosphere.

"I need to clean."