Like many things, Levi cursed the daylight. Levi cursed the clobbering in his head, the twisting in his stomach, the infuriating way he felt both like an anvil bolted to the ground and a feather that could be blown away with the next draft of wind. Levi cursed the way he felt close to barfing when there was a slight dip in the couch cushion, the way gravity pulled him down and churned his stomach into an acidic witch's cauldron ready to blow, and the godforsaken asshole responsible for it. He cursed the temporary blindness that paralyzed him completely upon opening his eyes, hindering all of his senses, causing a ringing in his ears that he couldn't simply ignore. Cursed the gentle fingertips that brushed over his hair and moved it out of his face, even though they really had no effect on his well-being, he just cursed them because they were there and they were things that existed.
Ah, and so was the joy of hangover-hood.
Alcohol sang a sweet duet with the Hangover (if you could consider nausea, splitting headaches, a bewildered equilibrium and the sudden fatal allergic reaction to sunlight sweet) to their patrons; a song that went along the lines of, "Regret me and say you'll quit me in the morning, but come crawling back like the bitch you are next time."
"Here's some Advil if you need it," he heard Eren's voice murmur, quiet and gentle like he was so used to speaking to the undead. "Orange juice or water?"
"Water," he replied, or at least tried to. His throat was scratchy, voice coming out ragged and tortured-sounding. He groaned, holding out his hand for the pills he was promised. Eren dutifully placed them in his palm. "And a trash can. Should be one by the fridge."
"I hope you don't mean you want the water in the trash can."
Eren's teasing was only met by a garbled, unintelligible response.
Levi could hear the brunette clumsily banging around in the kitchen, but didn't risk a greater pain in yelling directions at him. The asshole knew where the cups were, even if it did sound like he'd just dropped one in the sink (if the hurried, mumbled apologies and reassurance that nothing was broken was anything to judge by). The asshole knew where the water was, even though it sounded like he'd spilled a little (and hurried to call that he was cleaning it up). The asshole . . . Didn't even seem like he was slightly hungover.
A glass of water was set onto the coffee table and Levi turned—very, very slowly—to grab it, toss the pills into his mouth and force them down with the water. He could usually manage downing them without the help of liquid, but his throat was arid in the most horrid sense.
"Okay, but what kind of devil magic have you gotten yourself into?" he demanded of Eren, peering up at the hovering brunette with one eye. "Share your secret before I castrate you."
At least Eren had the decency to look taken aback.
"Devil magic?"
"How in sweet Odin's shit are you not as physically impaired as me and probably the rest of the drunken monkeys in your apartment?"
"Ah." Eren grinned a little, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Levi. He reached to grab the glass of water from Levi and place it safely back on the coffee table before he dropped it. The older man tried to formulate some form of thanks, but he only grunted. "I've never really had trouble with hangovers. And you know, now that you mention it, I should probably go check on everyone. Distribute hangover diet of liquids and Advil. Hide the alcohol because Jean's stupid enough to try and go back to it."
"I always assumed you had no social life, considering you follow me around like an obedient slave or something."
"I don't." Eren grimaced. "Sometimes I hang out with them on weekends and stuff, but it's mostly just Mikasa and Armin . . ." He shrugged a bit, but his grin was back. "I'm a slave that does absolutely nothing for you?"
"Suppose you're right. The only thing you're good for is a blowjob on the side. After all, you did nearly break my dishes, and that was just for a glass of water. You'd be a terrible house slave, but perhaps a sex slave instead."
Levi opened that one eye again to watch as Eren's face reddened, gaze averted, fingers working together nervously in something akin to embarrassment, which was an utter contradiction to the confidence the boy had the previous night. Levi wouldn't say he was a completely different person when he was fucked up; he was certainly always Eren. Perhaps it hadn't even been the intoxication. There was a hope, somewhere in Levi's mind that he wasn't willing to readily admit to, that Eren just kind of hid particularly strong confidence for moments like that.
Shamelessly, he thought it was sexy.
Eren's blush and bashfulness right now, though, was adorable and endearing and adjectives he'd never really thought about using. He wasn't a poet, and he'd had the understanding that he wasn't much of a romantic either.
When Eren contributed nothing to the conversation, Levi spoke up for him.
"I was impressed, though," he said, finally rolling over onto his back and opening both eyes despite his better judgment. He turned his head to watch Eren, the blatant embarrassment on his features turning from mortified embarrassment to curiosity, a silent question. "I always thought you were pretty gutsy, though I did not expect to be manhandled and blown all in one night."
Eren's embarrassment was back, of course, predictably, cheeks on fire, eyes looking anywhere but Levi's. "Jesus Christ," he mumbled, rubbing his forehead with his palm. He emitted a whine, shooting a weak glare at the older man. "You don't have to fucking tease me. Just pretend nothing happened if that's what you want—"
"That's not what I want."
Levi successfully reigned in Eren's attention.
The brunette didn't speak, didn't ask some stupid question like Levi expected him to. When the older man reached his hand out to brush his fingers over Eren's cheekbone, down to his lips to run his thumb over his lips, pushed the same fingers back behind Eren's ear and into his hair, the boy's eyes slipped shut and he leaned into the touch, welcoming it. So easy to read, Levi thought, before placing his palm on the back of Eren's head and pulling him, with little effort because Eren simply moved along with him, not a care in the world. Instead of finding Eren's lips exactly, though, Levi's mouth met the corner of them.
The minor miscalculation had Levi grumbling and Eren laughing (softly), and Eren pulled back just slightly to readjust the path for Levi and re-attempt the initially planned kiss.
Even though the kiss from the night before was a memory that melted together with certain parts shining brighter than the rest, Levi knew it wasn't quite the same. Eren's lips were chapped—something he hadn't noticed before—and this wasn't a needy, anger-fueled kiss shoved at him by a begrudgingly aroused twenty-one year old with a hyperactive libido. While the brunette probably still had a hyperactive libido, and while Levi could confirm that the sparking, burning sensation he'd felt last time hadn't been the wine, the urgency of their lips as they effortlessly worked off of each other wasn't the same. Instead, it was more intimate, sort of careful, slow and enticing in its own way. Eren's tongue flitted across Levi's, across his lips, playfully over his teeth because Eren was playful and it wouldn't be quite right if he wasn't.
When Levi pulled back, with his hand dropping to the nape of Eren's neck, Eren hardly moved. He stayed close to Levi's lips, so close, eyes slipping open to meet the older man's again. He grinned sheepishly, and Levi snorted, messing up his hair—even though it wasn't like it needed his help.
"Morning breath," Levi pointed out. "You had the time to medicate me but not brush your teeth."
"Hey, I didn't think you'd appreciate me using your tooth brush, and I haven't even been up to my apartment yet," Eren reasoned, shrugging a little bit and resting his head on the cushion. He was still closely in Levi's proximity and showed no signs of moving, and Levi supposed he didn't mind all that much. "By the way, are you going to point out my breath every time we kiss? Is that a thing I should start waiting for?"
"Yes." Levi nodded and smirked at Eren's over-dramatic groan of anguish. "Stupid question for a stupid—"
Only somewhat against his will, whatever he was saying was lost thanks to another kiss. Eren had an infuriating way with cutting off people (namely Levi), and sometimes even himself, with cheap shit like this and he probably knew that Levi couldn't fight back. His currently weak state didn't really help. He felt like a dead fish, incapable of reciprocating with the proper eagerness, something that might be able to match Eren's.
"Fuck your mouth," he sighed softly, no real venom in his words.
Eren gave him a crooked smile this time, a smile Levi wanted photographed and hung on every wall in his shitty, tiny apartment.
"Well, if you insist."
Levi groaned, resting his forehead against Eren's, resisting the all-too-tempting urge to stick his tongue out at the young brunette who was grinning at him again. "As appetizing as that offer is, I really don't want to experience a hangover blowjob. Can't appreciate it to the fullest, I'm sure."
"Maybe when you're not too busy being a total weakling to the side-effects of alcohol," Eren hummed, voice a little too cocky, a little too teasing, and Levi decided he was glad that the confidence hadn't been a one-time thing. "You were so coherent last night, I'm almost impressed that you're so fucked up this fine, beautiful, sunny morning."
Levi grumbled, displeased with the idea of anything about that morning being considered 'fine' or 'beautiful'. Maybe later, when he could think about it and not feel ever-present pain or mild disorientation, he could think it was 'fine' or 'beautiful' and share the sentiment with Eren. Not now, though.
"By the way," the brunette said softly, nervousness back, but dampened. "I . . . Jesus, I've never been good at this. Never exactly been in this situation before, either."
"Blown a guy, wasted and high, and had to deal with it?"
Eren shot him a look.
"Feelings, Levi. I'm not sure if you have them or not, but I'm talking about feelings."
"I had feelings once," he mused, twirling his hand in a showy, melodramatic way, fingers giving the slightest wiggle to accentuate his sarcasm. He didn't see if it gave Eren the desired effect, because he shut his eyes. Shit, he was embarrassed. He knew what this was. "But then you came along and fucked that all up. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"That I feel like saying that I like you would feel insignificant, like a fifth grader confessing to the upperclassman he's been ogling for a few days. Dammit, I'm trying to be serious here, and you're not allowed to make me laugh."
"You mean you're not a fifth grader?"
"Levi." Eren's tone had him blinking his eyes open, wondering if he'd gone too far, made too much of a joke out of it. The boy's eyes were pleading, begging for something to work with, his cheeks red, and he could see the way Eren had his arms wrapped around himself; insecurity incarnate. "Please."
"M'sorry."
His fingers found Eren's hair again, trying to recreate the comforting motion he'd made earlier.
"I know what you're trying to say. As you can see, I am obviously not very graceful either." With his free hand, he motioned to himself, the joke at his own expense, and the slight upturning of Eren's lips made it worth it. "I think I get the gist of your feelings, as you call them, and I recognize my own. For you. Jesus Christ. Can we give them names later? That's so much easier. Unless you want to just recite 'I don't hate you's to each other or something like confessions of love. We could do that."
Eren leaned in for a kiss before Levi could ramble anymore, before he could shoot something back like he'd done just seconds before and, I'll probably kill him if he makes this a habit. I'm not allowed to have any goddamn weaknesses. Eren's lips were a weakness for him, though, because his main train of thought was derailed and crashing unceremoniously somewhere off the east coast of where-the-fuck-ever. And it was awesome.
"I'm gonna barf in your mouth," he whispered against Eren's lips. "You never got the trash can."
It was an effective way to break a kiss, because Eren was pulling away from him and tearing into the kitchen for the trash can with speed that should've been illegal for a morning after.
[-X-]
Eren's apartment was an utter disaster.
No, usually it was some level of disaster unless Levi cleaned it and threatened his manhood (which had only happened once, and that was weeks ago so, really, it had been a bit of a mess before all of Eren's friends came over anyway), but now it was a major, nation-wide disaster that threatened the prosperity of the human race on a large scale.
It was hard to describe, from where Eren was standing. The floor was littered with chips and chip bags, socks and shoes, ashes, half-empty bottles of alcohol that at least had their tops and corks in, some shattered glass that looked vaguely like Sasha's prized pipe, and some blood nearby. He wouldn't have been surprised if maybe she'd punched whoever was responsible, or maybe someone just tripped and hit their head on the corner of his coffee table. There was something that looked a little bit like vomit and he was going to pretend that didn't exist until he was forced to get too close.
Hopefully nobody was dead.
Connie was curled up in a very uncomfortable-looking position on the loveseat, cradling Sasha's purse like a stuffed animal. Sasha, herself, lie on the floor beside the loveseat, fingers grasping a crumpled piece of paper that looked vaguely like scores for a card game or board game. A quick glance to the kitchen allowed him to see the way Bertholdt and Reiner were uncomfortably stuffed underneath his kitchen table, Bert taking up the majority of the room and pressing Reiner into the wooden legs. Annie, Mikasa, Armin, Marco and Jean weren't in sight, but Ymir stood by his refrigerator, staring bleakly at the contents and scratching her chest.
"Your fridge is sad," she mumbled, fishing out a leftover container of spaghetti (which he hadn't dared to make; he'd only poured it out of the can and added salt, really) and a fork from the dish drainer. She opened it and shoveled a few cold forkfuls into her mouth. "Do you have any fuckin' pain relievers? Narcotics, maybe? I have a headache worse than Satan's sweaty hemorrhoids and our Sonic doesn't do any of that random drug testing bullshit anymore. I could afford a Hydrocodone right about now."
Eren laughed and shook his head, maneuvering around her to open the cabinet next to her. He plucked the bottle of ibuprofen from a small clear tub sitting on a shelf before shutting it and shaking a few of the small reddish pills into his hand. He held them out to Ymir, and she graciously accepted. "It's off-brand, but still as effective as the expensive stuff. The R.O. works on the sink, and since you don't look too close to death, wanna help me get around some water around for the rest of the shitfaced zombies?"
"Not really," she mumbled, but after she fumbled with a clean-looking solo cup, filled it with water and downed her medication, she gathered more together and started filling them up. "Reiner broke the pipe, by the way. I bet you saw the glass. That was some funny shit you missed."
She paused her actions just for a moment, setting two half-full cups of water on the counter to rake a critical eye over him.
"You got laid."
Eren felt his cheeks warm immediately and Ymir smirked.
"Totally got laid," she murmured, turning back to the cups and R.O. filter. "You've got that fuckin' smug look that guys get when they get laid. I'm jealous. Only not, because it kind of looked like grump-shit from downstairs was going to tear you limb from limb and toss you off the top of the complex, really. I'm surprised you're not covered in bruises and bite marks. Looked like some rough, screaming hate-sex was coming, to me. By the way, does he work at that convenience store across the street from First National? He looks familiar."
"I didn't get laid." Eren scrunched up his nose as he haphazardly shoved a few boxes and empty cups into his trash can. "Not exactly. And yeah, he does."
"Okay, but you totally got something, and I think that counts. I guess it went well, then?"
He nodded, almost absently, as he gathered the various bottles in the living room and placed them on the table, stepping around Bert's legs and making sure to not shake the table too much. The longer they slept, the better for him, because he had every intention of making it back to Levi's apartment soon.
"Yeah. I feel like such a fuck after the whole thing last night, though, only to turn around and fix things. I just kind of . . . Went for it, and things worked out."
Ymir nodded to inform him she was still listening. She had out ten half-full cups on the counter, not including her own, and re-counted, doing the blurry math in her head to figure out if she'd done it right. She dumped one out and innocently placed it in the dish drainer before turning back to Eren. He got a full view of how red her eyes were, how tired and sick she looked, and he realized she was just good at suppressing signs of a hangover. Really, she could've gone to work like this and just kept quiet, said she didn't get enough sleep. Levi needed lessons from her.
She helped him distribute cups of water to the four that they could see. He gently shook each of them awake and forced them to down the ibuprofen before allowing them to return to rest, and Reiner didn't hesitate to crawl out from under the table, if just to get far enough away to get comfortable. His face greened and Eren decided he didn't need to move much, anyway.
"You guys got pretty fucked up without me, didn't you?" he mused, grabbing two more and heading towards his bedroom. He really hoped his assumptions were wrong about the inhabitants of that room in particular. "Jesus Christ. I'm never leaving you guys unattended again."
Ymir followed him with two more, leaving one on the kitchen counter.
"Hell yeah. I'm surprised there's any fuckin' booze left, and I don't think we left Sasha with a damn ounce."
"She's never going to attend another party here again because of all of you."
"Tough shit."
The door of his bedroom was opened and they poked their heads in.
Eren's bed was a queen, one he'd snagged at a garage sale with Mikasa before moving out at a pretty cheap price, box spring and all. It wasn't one, though, that he'd suggest shoving three grown men into, even if one of the three was on the smaller side.
He was mortified to find Marco, Armin and Jean all piled in his bed, sound and snug under his covers. Armin was in the middle, looking far too happy in his sleep and oblivious of the impending pain that would come when he stirred. Marco was nuzzled into Armin, covers pulled up over his shoulders as he assumed something that looked like a painful fetal position. Jean was sprawled out, a bare arm and leg hanging off of the side of the mattress, uncovered. Eren counted one, two, definitely three pairs of underwear flung around his bedroom, two pairs of pants (he thought he might see a third peeking out from under his bed), three shirts (one being Armin's undershirt), some socks, those were definitely Jean's shoes—
"I'm going to burn my sheets. My blankets. My mattress. Fuck, I'll burn my pillows too. Anything Jean's naked ass might have touched. You are all welcome to join me in a lively bonfire tonight."
"I think you're overlooking the important part," Ymir said, straight-faced although the way her eyebrow twitched showed how close she was to losing it, "I think your blondie might have gotten laid double time. Here I was, all impressed for you and shit, but he's got your ass beat."
"No. No, I refuse."
Eren grimaced and inched his way into his bedroom, giving his bed an apologetic gaze as he sat the two cups in his hand down on the night stand. He opened the pill bottle and fished some out, handing them to Ymir (because, realistically, all he wanted to do right then was push Jean out of the bed and hope his headache was nearly as bad as the woe he felt for his bed), before they started the routine of waking the three up and forcing pills down their throats before leaving them be until they were ready to stir for themselves. Armin looked far too pleased when it was his turn, far too innocent and absolutely oblivious to the two-toned asshole curling up to his side in a fashion similar to Marco's position.
You poor, poor soul.
They left the room, Ymir holding her extra cup while Eren retrieved the one she'd left on the counter. She gazed around the living room one more time, before raising an eyebrow at Eren.
"So, where's your sister and that blonde with the nose?"
"Bathroom," he said, not missing a beat. He grinned at the perplexed look she shot him. "No, trust me, I've drank with them enough over the past years to just know. It's unpreventable. They're always in the bathroom."
They returned through the bedroom, carefully stepping around the clothes on the ground (mostly because Eren couldn't tell what was Jean's and what wasn't, and really, he just didn't want to take any chances). Opening the door to the bathroom was something of a feat, as one of them had shoved a shoe on the other side as a way to stop the door from being opened, probably by one of the three dead to the world in Eren's bed. Annie had done this a few times before, though, so Eren used a well-practiced method of pushing and pulling a few times before giving the door a shove and sending the shoe rolling back.
Annie and Mikasa were draped unceremoniously, and rather uncomfortably-looking, in the bath tub. The back of the tub was slightly slanted and Mikasa took advantage of that, leaning back with Annie sprawled out on top of her, one arm over the side of the tub that Eren suspected was probably numb by now, judging by the indentions it made in her skin from how long she'd been in that position.
He didn't bother giving them ibuprofen. He dug around for a bottle he had hidden in the back of the cabinet below the sink. They refused to take anything but Midol for hangovers, and he heard it worked wonders, but the shit was too expensive to give to everyone.
"Med and water time," he said, giving Annie's shoulder a gentle shake. She mumbled something in response, propping herself up to glare at the two of them and hold her head. Mikasa stirred when Annie did, opening up one eye long enough to register that it was Eren in front of them and not some stranger. After she had both eyes securely closed again, they both presented their palms to him for the promised tablets. He presented them both with two, but only one cup. Annie downed hers, plus a few extra gulps, and Mikasa finished up the other half. Then they were shooed out and instructed to turn off the light. "Yes, yes, you're welcome."
"Adorable."
Eren's eyebrows raised at the slight bitterness in Ymir's voice as he gently shut the door behind them. She'd mentioned being jealous before, simply because Eren had gotten a little bit of action, but now she sounded it.
She sounded miserable.
"They've been like that since high school," he said quietly, taking the solo cup from her hands and repeating the evasive maneuvers to avoid touching any of the clothes on his floor and make it out alive and uninfected with Jean-germs. "You sound jealous."
"I am," she replied bluntly, and came just short of slamming the door behind herself when they made it out of his bedroom. "I just—"
"Remember when I said I just went for it with Levi?" he asked, turning and effectively cutting off whatever she was going to say, probably pertaining to the cashier she'd drunkenly rambled on about with no end the night before. Ymir had to be clear on where this was going anyway. "Have you tried that?"
"Well. No."
"Have you tried anything?"
"Not really." Ymir sighed. She was looking increasingly more irritated. "I don't really know anything about her. I don't know how."
"It might not work for everyone, but if any of your other attempts have failed, I'd say try it. I mean, I know Annie and Mikasa got together because Annie's blunt as fuck and didn't give off mixed signals."
She grumbled noncommittally and turned on her heel, stalking back out to the living room. Eren didn't know if she'd actually listened to a word he'd said, but he didn't dwell. He wanted to clean up at least some of the horrendous mess his apartment was and get back to Levi as soon as he could.
[-X-]
Eren made the perfect nurse.
Levi was ordered to strictly bed rest (or, really, couch rest, because he was too lazy and queasy for a good chunk of the day to move, and Eren wasn't willing to carry him, afraid he might drop him). If he needed something, Eren was up from his spot beside him, probably laughing stupidly at a terrible joke on the television, and darting off to get it for him. It made Levi dizzy how fast he could move sometimes. His over-eagerness was welcomed, and even a little endearing now.
Levi had thrown up once, but that was to be expected, and luckily it had been while Eren was playing doctor with his friends. Upon finding out that Levi had made it to the bathroom to piss, wash his face and brush his teeth afterward, Eren had decided to wait on him hand and foot.
There was a gratuitous number of slave jokes made, and much blushing on Eren's part. It was too easy.
Eren flopped down on the couch beside him one more time, gingerly handing Levi a cold water bottle and crossing his legs. Levi snorted, but accepted it nonetheless, twisting the cap off and dragging out a long gulp of the crisp water.
"You keep acting like you're gonna break me. I'm fine now, you know. Puked and hydrated. All is well. And you don't have to keep hovering unless you just want to. You don't have some duty to fulfill."
At Eren's slightly crestfallen look, Levi rolled his eyes and ran a hand through the boy's hair.
"You can stay, though. I'm not saying I want you to leave."
Eren's smile, his light, his bouncy goddamn attitude was back all at once. He was quick to lean against Levi where he fit, where Levi had found the brunette felt like he belonged. He really did. He was easily comparable to a dog; one Levi wouldn't mind owning, if you could say that. He was so easy to read, so expressive, so determined in everything he did. He was quick to anger, and just as quick to cower. He was a strangely balanced person, equal parts making him predictable, depending on his mood.
There were times when he pulled things that Levi wasn't expecting.
"So, it might be a little early, but maybe we should do something." This was one of those times.
"What do you mean?" Levi arched an eyebrow, peering down at Eren. "Like, right now? Because I was under the understanding that I was not allowed to leave the couch unless I needed to use the bathroom."
"No, no," Eren dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "Like . . . Saturday or something."
Levi felt his lips twitch up, but it wasn't a smirk or a grin or even a sneer. It was a smile, and goddamn him. Goddamn him, fuck him, I'm going to kill him. He hid it in Eren's hair, before the boy could look up at him, and of course he didn't question it because he was Eren and he usually just went with whatever flow was thrown his way.
"Are you asking me out on a date, Eren Jaeger?" Levi jeered, slinging an arm around Eren's shoulders and pulling him closer. "I think we're going a little backwards. Making out, sexual activities, and then the first date."
When he'd gotten his smile under control and down to a simmering smirk, he pulled back to let Eren direct a pout right up at him.
"Do you not want to?"
"I never said that. You're setting a record for making assumptions today."
"You're teasing me. Maybe I don't want to go on a date after all."
Levi rolled his eyes while Eren weakly pulled away from him with no intentions of actually getting away. He poked Eren's side in just the right spot, snorting when Eren let out an atrocious laugh-whine before falling back into his place against Levi. He turned his eyes to the television, although it didn't look like, from Levi's perspective, that he was really paying attention. He had his thinking face on.
"I can smell the gears in your mind letting out smoke; slow down before you catch on fire."
"Shut up." Eren grinned up at him anyway. "How about a drive-in movie? We can take some blankets and pillows and chill in the bed of your truck. How does that sound?"
"Cheesy as fuck."
Eren grumbled and slumped against Levi as some sign of surrender. The older man supposed maybe he'd gone a little too far, had a little too much fun teasing Eren, so he sighed, running his hand through his brown hair again and pressed a small, chaste kiss to his temple.
"Sounds fine, brat," he murmured against Eren's skin. "But you're picking the movie."