This is the first chapter to actually warrant the Mature rating.
Levi's small body thuds down on the mattress. He bounces once on his back, hands landing palms up just above his head, like a gesture of surrender.
This is a gesture of surrender. Everything he has, Levi is yielding to the man hovering over him.
It is a surrender to come to Erwin Smith's quarters with no weapon. It is a surrender to let the captain touch him without fighting. To let his face be held, firmly yet gently, between the bastard's enormous hands. To part his lips and let Erwin's tongue push into his mouth, the basest of unsanitary intrusions. To let this man, whom Levi still fantasizes about killing, pick him up around the waist like a child and carry him, unresisting, to his luxuriously wide bed.
A surrender to open his legs, make himself pliant for Erwin to unlace his pants and pull them down his legs.
He will surrender everything to Erwin.
There is no explanation for it.
No sound reason why he would give his entire self over to this man who chased him down in his own home, chained him in the street, let his friends die, and mocked him for the guilt he felt.
Levi can't explain it. He stopped trying days ago.
Then Erwin is on top of him, kissing his open mouth once before dipping his large fingers into Levi's mouth, swirling them around and coating them with Levi's wanton spit.
Levi can taste everywhere the man has been today on his hands. It should make his mouth curl in disgust. He should fix the bastard with a scowl and tell him to wash his hands. And his office. And his pen, for shit's sake. Just dip this man's whole life in lye soap.
But his mouth is full. All he manages is a low sound somewhere between a grunt and a moan.
Erwin leans down and wrests his shirt open in a movement that miraculously tears no buttons from their seams.
His tongue slicks its way down Levi's bare, muscled torso, leaving a wet trail over his abdomen, pectoral, and one nipple.
Levi should be twisting with disgust, rushing to find a cloth clean enough to wash the wet chill from his skin. Instead, he relishes the sensation, fascinated by the way his muscles ripple and jerk without permission under Erwin's insatiable tongue.
He's more than half hard when Erwin reaches his navel. His legs tense and tremble when Erwin, with the spit-slicked fingers he's marinated in Levi's mouth, strokes him with deft, quick passes.
Then his cock is engulfed on all sides by the wet warmth of Erwin's mouth, and Levi's pretty sure he stops breathing entirely.
Air rushes from his windpipe, thrumming across his vocal cords in a discordant hum he can't suppress.
What is it about this man that takes away all of Levi's self-control?
When he finally remembers to take in air, he cannot disguise the stuttering gasps of pleasure Erwin inspires with his tongue and his teeth.
He takes Levi's full length easily, creating friction with his tongue and the roof of his mouth as his head bobs up and down over Levi's hips.
The head of his dick nudges the back of Erwin's throat with each pass, but Erwin never flinches. In fact, he seems to relish the challenge. The twinge of his throat closing to swallow creates pressure Levi's cock can't comprehend.
"Fuck," he breathes. His hips buck into Erwin's mouth without his permission. "Fucking—shit—fuck."
Levi didn't know it was possible to smile with a mouth full of dick. Somehow, he feels Erwin manage it.
Erwin's teeth scrape gently against Levi's length, sending a pang of adrenaline through his core that only adds to the tension already building. His hands, which have been clenching helplessly at empty air, fly downward, bracing on the mattress on either side of his hips, providing better leverage to cant his navel up into Erwin's mouth.
A whine escapes him. The ache of his hardness is beginning to register, like the spring of a toy coiled too tightly, ready to snap.
His hands move between his legs, fingers desperate to twist into the bastard's hair and yank him closer. Tell him to hurry the hell up.
Erwin freezes at Levi's touch. His head goes still, even his tongue halts in the process of massaging Levi's cock.
"Mm."
It's not even a full word. He doesn't relinquish Levi's dick to speak or give instructions. He does nothing else to indicate what Levi should do, or not do, more accurately.
Levi understands.
He removes his hands from Erwin's hair and places them back on the mattress, just above his head.
(As a small act of rebellion, he does not smooth Erwin's hair back down, leaving it mussed and messy from its brief encounter with Levi's fingers.)
Immediately, Erwin's tongue resumes its motion. This time, the hum that vibrates up his throat and curls Levi's toes is one of approval.
The message is clear: Impatience will get Levi nowhere. He will come on Erwin's schedule, or not at all.
He does come, an excruciating amount of time later (it feels like hours, but Erwin assures him it certainly was not).
Erwin seems to sense, from the uncontrollable quaking of his hips (and the accelerated pace of swearing) that Levi's release is at hand, but he still does not break pace or flinch when Levi explodes in his mouth.
"Fuck," he mouths pitifully, his voice coming out high and breathy in what can only be described as a whimper.
Levi has not whimpered since Kenny taught him to take a hit without crying.
It takes a while for his muscles to unclench, for the sensations flooding his body to permit movement once again. In the time he spends lying in his own mess (the mess Erwin has made of him), the captain has straightened his jacket, smoothed his hair back into place, and stroked himself to completion in full view of Levi.
All the while, his face remains stoic and impassive, barely a twitch of the eyebrow to indicate he has reached sexual climax.
He mounts the bed on one knee and reaches for Levi with a come-stained hand.
His sticky fingers swipe over Levi's cheek before slipping into his mouth, and Levi tastes the salty tang of come for the first time in his life.
Erwin smiles. It's a small, cool change to his expression, but his eyes crinkle with unmistakable satisfaction.
"Beautiful," he breathes. "You are a beautiful mess, Levi."
Levi's heart performs a strange dance beneath his ribs that leaves behind a burning sensation.
"Fuck," he says again through shining wet lips, and for once, he feels no temptation to add you to the end.
Erwin leans down, bracing his hands on either side of Levi's head. His body comes to hover over Levi's, the warmth washing over him and causing Levi's spent dick to twitch in anticipation again.
Levi thinks Erwin is going to kiss him, come and all, but at the last moment his lips veer to the side, to land hot and wet against his ear.
"We'll need to wash out that filthy mouth of yours, Levi, before I let you return the favor."