Here is a little holiday special. Certainly not a birthday surprise :P

An unavoidable smile sneaks its way into my blushed cheeks while I rest forward onto the table with elbows placed oh so rudely upon the surface and chin propped onto my palms. Not that I imagine he'll notice my ill table manners, as he's far too consumed in the new shipment which has arrived just this afternoon. Though I imagine I'd get away with it, even if those focused eyes took a small break to peek over in my direction. I get away with most things these days – since I suppose I'm now a co-owner in this little shop of ours. Another thought which sends my smile nearing my ears, consuming my cheeks.

Ours. Our shop.

"Those were a good idea." He mumbles over while flicking his head towards the small pile of pre-wrapped gift boxes, all containing various assortments of recommended teas meant for gifts to loved ones. Something I came up with when thinking how we could meet the extra demand which the holidays always seem to bring.

"I think they'll do well," I smile while pulling myself up to go stand behind him at the counter. Arms wrapping around his waist while my head falls down to rest a cheek against his back. A wishful way I could waste away an entire afternoon, merely standing here with arms wrapped around this man whom I love so much it hurts. Though I can feel the tenseness to his muscles almost immediately, the tautness of his neck and back. "You're working too hard." Soft mumbles into his shirt, knowing my concerns are never taken very seriously whenever we approach this topic, but still – I have to try. The last few weeks have left him spending far too many hours in this shop. I made the foolish suggestion of us hiring a couple hands to help; of course, ignored and distracted by a rather lingering kiss.

He's discovered that: how easily I become distracted from those soft lips of his. Entirely using it to his benefit, the bastard. Not that I entirely mind… Okay, I love it.

"It will die down again in a few weeks." He turns around to shift me into his chest, arms wrapping around my own waist as he placed a gentle peck upon my forehead.

"You're closing for the actual day, though – right?" I frown, hoping he'll say yes because against all of his attempts to hide this very information from me, while doing a little spring cleaning around our home last year I happened to come across his passport and… I've found his birth date.

"Why?" he attempts to dismiss the question with a shrug. "Might as well stay open."

"Levi." My head tilts to one side. "We're closing for the holiday! I want you home, I have a little surprise for you."

"What kind of surprise?" his face tenses. The real question: It's not a birthday surprise, is it?

Yes, it is. No, I'm not about to tell him as such so I quickly nod my head and mumble that it's a holiday surprise. Breaks my heart a little with every passing moment I consider the very reason behind his stubborn insistence on ignoring the day of his birth every year. On refusing to allow any celebrations – any talk of it, really. I've come to know more about this mysterious man over the past few years, come to know more of the hardships which he faced; specifically, his time in the underground – their name for that hellish little place which stuffed people down under the dirt. Down away from the light, from life. It's horrid. Momentary thoughts are all which I can really stomach when thinking about how he grew up down there. A familiar look must spread across my face because I always come back to the present by a squeeze to my waist, a soft kiss placed against my neck and quiet mumbles of "don't think of it."

But, how can I not? How can I not wish to erase whatever small part of that which I am able? How could I not wish to spread a little light to one whom lacked just so very much of the thing throughout his life? Nothing big, certainly nothing extravagant. Just him, just me – a little something I have planned for that very evening.

"Okay," he grumbles with a slight frown. "We'll close that day."

"Don't be grumpy!" I scrunch my nose while poking his chest. "That means we can spend the entire day together without anyone else."

His face softens as I knew it would, a small smile slipping over those lips which wish to remain stoic at the idea of participating in holiday celebrations.

The days quickly slip by, filled with mad rushes of customers, filled orders and restocking of the far too quickly emptying shelves. I have half a mind to hire a few employees behind Levi's back, but he's right – it will quiet in only a few short days. Two, to be exact, until Christmas.

One afternoon, Levi calls over to me as we're closing in order to ask if this surprise contains a restaurant. "Why do you ask?" I let a small sheepish grin slide over my face. I know why he asks: he hates surprises.

"You know why." He looks unimpressed.

Should I allow this to play out a little longer? Enact some revenge for all the little ways I've come to learn he loves teasing? Not quite something you'd pick up from the man upon meeting him, yet certainly something which appears to leave a little too much of a glimmer in his eyes. A hand brushing against my thigh as we sit within one of our favorite restaurants, a far too handsome wink given from across the tea shop when a sea of customers separates us, a slight exhale of warm and fiery breath against my neck when we walk hand in hand through the park. Yes, Levi does enjoy teasing; but I can tell he's not entirely in the mood and so I decide to take pity upon him.

"No, it does not."

"Hm." Another unimpressed look, an equally unimpressed sound.

The conversation switches to another topic, largely ignored for the rest of the day, though I imagine that mind of his dwells upon it constantly. Wheels spinning, gears grinding – attempting to sort out what I could possibly be up to. I decide to kindly whisper over, "It's just something for the two of us at home. Relax."

"I am relaxed." He deadpans with a squared jaw and equally squared shoulders.

"Okay, sweetheart." I hold back a grin, hold back a rolling of my eyes because apparently, this man with narrowed eyes and white knuckles before me is relaxed.

Finally, the dreaded day arrives. A lazy morning spent slowly sipping flawlessly brewed tea – brewed by myself, I might add! Hard not to excel at such a thing when you live with a connoisseur of the very act. Warming fingers against ceramic mugs as we tuck limbs underneath the blanket upon the sofa, faces flushed and happy from the glow of the fireplace and the melody of the record playing which fills the air.

"This isn't so bad, right?" I whisper while looping one leg over his, shifting to curl better into his chest as I feel an arm wrap around me.

"It's nice." He mumbles while letting his head fall back against the wall, a wave of sleep seemingly settling in even though we just woke up a few hours ago. See! I wish to mumble but I refrain from waking him; he's been working too hard. A happy grin watches as he spends the next few hours napping, a quick reaction as I catch the teacup before it slides down from his waist and meets the floor.

He looks happy. It sets my heart ablaze as I lean forward to rest an ear against his chest, satisfied to listen to the sound of his heart's beating fill the void of the music when the needle switches over to the next song; satisfied to hear the light sounds of his breathing, narrowing on the verge of a snore from the angle which he rests.

Happy. Heavens, I find myself so happy these days I'm hardly able to comprehend such a thing. Hardly able to stare out at this life and fully recognize that it belongs to me. That this man belongs to me. It's staggering; what could one possibly have done to deserve all of this? Deserve all of this again – a second chance in life, for I was so fortuned to have this with another once before. Though truthfully, this feels different. Feels a little more, a little larger. Something which I hadn't imagined was possible.

Something which I think the first would be happy to hear. Happy to see. Tucked soundly into Levi's chest with an arm wrapped around my waist and a cup of tea.

This feels like where I was always meant to be.

He awakens a few hours later and with a quiet mumble of an apology for falling asleep, I give a quick kiss and mumble that he needed it. The rest of the day is spent relaxing before the fire; a few silly dances to one of our most favorite songs. By the time the sun begins to set, I head over to the kitchen in order to start preparing something a little more special than what we usually eat. A candlelit dinner at our little table for two, a few glasses of that sweet wine which Levi claims to dislike but will stomach a few sips for me on special occasions. Tonight of which is one of them.

"First surprise!" I wink while pulling myself up after the dishes are cleared.

"There's more than one?" He groans with an overexaggerated face palm.

"Shush." I laugh while running over to the fridge. Retrieving what is so carefully tucked far behind in a place which I know he'd never see … a single buttercream frosted tarte, the very kind I've made a few times before and watch as he practically licks the pan clean with a spoon – never his fingers, of course. His eyes widen as the treat is placed before him on the table, lips beginning to curl into a smile which warms my very heart.

"Happy Bir–" I start before catching the look which his eyes deliver upon flicking up to me. "Okay, okay!" I sigh, "To a very average evening with absolutely no special meaning placed to it."

He exhales a silent chuckle with a blush. "You didn't have to do this, Lilette."

"I wanted to, Levi." I wink while walking over to get two spoons. His arm comes out to grab hold of my waist as I attempt to walk back over to my chair, pulling me down into his lap as his free hand reaches up to cup my cheek, slowly bringing my face over to his.

"Thank you," he mumbles with embarrassment filling those cloudy irises. Another thing I've come to learn over the past few years: his inexperience in accepting small acts of kindness from another; in accepting that someone could love and care for him with no conditions, without any need or ask. Just him – that's all I love him for, for just being him.

We're getting there, slowly but surely. His guard drops with each passing day, his vulnerability pouring through more and more. Not that those things are something I would declare myself an expert in; no – certainly not. We're getting there together, I suppose. Isn't that such a lovely thing, to grow slowly as if two interlocked flowers in bloom. At times, I fear my heart may burst with the levels of love I hold for this man. Cheesy and a little too romantic for one's good? Most certainly. Yet true, nonetheless.

Gods, I love him.

A couple bites before his playful side emerges with a dollop of cream placed upon my nose. Giggles as he holds my wrists together, not allowing me to wipe it off before it's finally cleaned away with a kiss. "This was a nice surprise." He mumbles into my ear, that raspy voice of his revealing far too easily what's now on his mind. Sending far too many lightning bolts down to my stomach as I stare back with a look that's lost to lust and love in return because, I want it too.

"I have one more surprise for you," I whisper into his ear while grabbing hold of his hand to pull him off towards our bedroom. Noticing the lack of protest which this one garners, though perhaps it will be a little more than he expects. Truly, what I have planned is a surprise; one which we've not yet done in here…

Though our roles were reversed the first time we did this, Levi has quickly swooped in to being the one whom usually takes control. Takes the lead, guiding us into the bed and to a place where my mind can barely think, barely breathe at how good it all feels.

Not tonight, however.

Grabbing hold of his waist, I make quick work in removing his shirt and trousers while a smile slips over his lips. His hands begin to unbutton my dress, pushing the material back until it gathers on the floor to reveal a pale blue silk slip. That perfect jaw of his tenses once more, tenses in a way which speaks not of stress or tiredness, however; rather speaks of a man who still struggles to walk between the two sides of him which slip out whenever we have these moments.

The soft side, the gentle side which wants to love and care. The side which always has him pulling off to the bathroom, to our linen closet, only to return with a cloth as he gently cleans away the mess left between my thighs. The man who's never heard of aftercare, yet excels in it in a way I cannot comprehend. The protective arm scooping me in closer, the blanket he'll drape over my shoulders as soft kisses are placed upon my forehead.

Then there's the other side. Truthfully, I'm sure I haven't seen the worst of it – not that I'd particularly call any of it unwanted. The side where he's a little more rough, slowly a little more demanding in what he wants; how he wants it. Something which I can tell is not familiar to him, yet it is instinctive. The one who wants to claim, to unleash emotions which for far too long have been caged.

As with most things in his life, I can tell these moments are filled with mind-consuming connotations, complications. Can tell he's riddled with guilt when asking for something that he wants; that he needs. Slowly, I've watched this man switch more into someone who is just as comfortable receiving as he is giving – because, hell… he's very, very good at giving.

"Lay down." I whisper while gently pushing back on his chest. Watching as he raises an eyebrow before nodding and falling down onto his back. He's without clothes and it uses all of my willpower not to have my vision permanently held upon his… upon the most perfect part of an all too perfect body. He's clearly ready to skip this part and that's exactly where I wish to have him but not quite yet. Lips curl into a teasing little grin as I pull out a package from under the bed, handing it down to him with dotting eyelashes and a look which I hope reflects innocence.

"What is this?" he stares up at me with concern.

"Open it." I retort.

Watching as he slowly pulls open the bag, it's nearly impossible to keep my little chuckle to myself as his hand reaches in to produce a candle. His face says it all, filled with confusion and so I turn the glass container until the words face him. "…Massage candle?" he looks skeptical.

"Turn around." I already pull out the pouted lower lip, knowing I'll be required to pull out all the tools within my arsenal for this to work. His eyes skim over the label, carefully taking in the listed directions before understanding that I wish to light this candle and apparently pour hot wax all over his skin. "It doesn't hurt!" I grab the gift, pulling out a box of matches and quickly setting it alite.

"It will get my skin all sticky." His face scrunches at the thought.

Levi. I hold back an eyeroll. This man, I swear. Leaning forward to stare into his face, I deadpan "Then I'll lick it off you, because it's also edible." Ha, that does it. His eyes flash a little wider and that adorable blush flushes through his cheeks before he obeys, flipping himself over so that his stomach presses flat against the bedsheets and I crawl up on top of him. "You're so tense," I frown while pouring some of the wax down onto his shoulders, spreading the oil around in a way where I can instantly feel all of his tight muscles and knots.

A grunt slips out of his lips, one filled with instant relaxation as he shifts to become a bit more comfortable. Heavens, I could stare at this man's back for an entire day if I was not disrupted. The sharp lines of a trained soldier, somehow refusing to fade away even though his training regimen has undoubtably faltered. The overwhelming concentrate of muscles to anything else; I swear he has not an ounce of fat placed upon him anywhere. Something which I can't quite say the same… but he swears those are his most favorite places to grip fingertips into and his voice takes on such a serious tone that I believe him.

Shoulders lessen a little as my fingers begin to knead, watching as the distance between his traps and ears begins to increase. Listening to the heaviness of his breath settle in, the throat groan which slips out when my nails rake up his undercut – one of his most sensitive spots which I discovered early on and far too often do I use it against him. A few more moments, a few more painful moments of touching and looking before I'm desperate for more. "Flip over," I whisper down while trying not to clench my thighs in a painfully obvious way.

"I'll get the bedsheets messy." He turns to shoot a look my way.

"No," I breathe out, feeling increasingly needy and warm in places where I'm sure he can feel it. "It's practically dried into your skin. Please," Ah – that smirk. That tiny little curl of his lip on only one side, doing his best to keep it in but, yes – I see it. His teasing side.

In an instant, he's flipped over so that I now straddle his waist. Another heavy breath as I feel a bulge pressing up, pressing into where I want him most. Need him, but first – More oil is poured down onto his chest, hands smoothly running up and down his pectoral muscles before looping up to have thumbs rub small circles into the side of his neck.

"Lil," he groans with cloudy eyes. Desperate, needy, needing release. Yeah, I'm right there with you. "Can I?" he groans while fingers slide over the panties I have underneath my slip. Hips rocking, crashing gently, hips bucking and grinding down. A nod of my head, yes yes yes. A finger so quickly swoops up to slide over the lacey barrier, another hand slides up to settle upon my hip and then finally, finally –

I'm home.

Making love barely feels adept at describing these moments. More like making life, fueled by love, making light. For that's the closest that I could ever hope to arrive at an adequate definition, creating a few moments of brightness which could push away a lifetime of dark. Wrapped in this man's arms, filled by a warmth which feels like a necessity to my life.

It starts out slow, it always does. Increased by a little nip, a little love bite delivered by lips which are far too familiar with placing tiny bruises on the most intimate places of my body. He likes to bite, a fun little realization we've come to these past few months – though never enough to draw blood. Little purple marks which last for a few mere days, little spots which I stare at while in the shower, little spots which leave me with warm reminders of how I am loved.

Hips become more focused, lewd sounds fill the air as both of us begin to chase a high which we so desperately wish to deliver the other. Each begin to babble nonsense to one another, words which would cause a matching pink twinge to our ears if ever overheard by another. Words of far too much sappiness and sometimes, just a little too much filth than I ever imagine leaving the lips of two whom so dignifiedly sip on tea; but that's the best little part about this bed, about our love.

Each comfortable enough to show not only the best parts, but also the worst – also the most real, the most feral, our deepest darkest fears. We've bared it all in here, laid it all down upon the table and still looked at one another with love in our hearts.

Hardly had I ever imagined such a thing possible. Hardly had I ever imagined myself deserving.

Loud moans, his fingers reach up to tangle in my hair as I cry his name in such a way which has him similarly losing himself to pleasure. One arm wraps tightly around my waist, holding me there for a few final thrusts in what is likely a foolish attempt on our part to add another into this little life of ours one day. Not that I'm necessarily unable, still an appropriate age, but it hasn't happened yet and so – anyways, like I said: a foolish thought.

After catching my breath, I whisper into his ear, "Am I allowed to wish you a happy birthday?" I can feel his lips curling into a soft grin against my neck before he mumbles back, "You somehow make the day enjoyable."

"Good." I giggle before pulling him into a kiss, quickly flipped around so that he lies me gently down onto my back.

"Since we are apparently celebrating my birthday," he stares down at me, "I'd like some more of that dessert."

"Oh?" I pleasantly smile, "I only made the one but have all of the ingredients. I'll make some more tomorrow."

Levi leans down to press his body against my own until our hearts beat against one another's, arms wrap around each other's necks as he leans down to gently nip at my ear before pulling up to stare into my eyes with a serious expression, "Not the dessert I was referencing."

Oh.

My cheeks must turn the color of the sky, a pink hue filling the space between the clouds as the sun settles for the day and the night slips through. Whispering up to this perfect man before me, "Anything for the birthday boy."

A foolish attempt on our part to add another into this little life of ours one day…

Perhaps not quite so foolish as a few months later, our eyes widen in surprise at what was meant to be a routine appointment with my doctor. Apparently, our life is about to become a little more busy, yet one glance over at Levi's face and I'm thrown into a round of happy tears. I'll take this kind of busy, this kind of chaos. I'll take it all.

Truly, we make more than love. We've made life.

Author's Note:

Sappy fluff ^_^

So, I'm under the impression that lemon is not allowed on here and for that reason, I'll be keeping the smut not very explicit. If you also use AO3, I have a ton of stuff posted over there and - ahem... let's just say it's more liberal with it's explicit material hehe but I love Levi and Lilette so much and hope you have enjoyed their story :) more one-shots to come!