The water in the kettle boiled loudly, and Jake glared at it for it’s rudeness. Did it really have to be that loud? He was too ill for this kind of silliness. The fact that Jake even had to make his own tea was awful. He was so close to death and he had to boil his own tea? Just awful. He sighed, hoisting himself up so that he could sit on the counter. The kettle started whistling loudly, which was a thousand times worse than the boiling. It was disgusting. Jake sighed even louder, hopping off the cabinet and turning off the stove. He poured the water into his favorite mug with Boo from Monsters Inc’s face on it, popping the tea bag in it and carrying it to the sofa.
He’d made a sort of nest for himself on the sofa, surrounding himself with about five blankets with plans of never moving. Unfortunately, that plan hadn’t worked out. He covered himself in blankets again, waiting for Nicolas to bring him soup. At the very least someone was doing it for him, because going out of the house right now would mean certain death for the sick boy. He rubbed his aching head, brushing away the hair that was falling over his face. Jake stared at the door intently, willing for the boy to walk in so that he wouldn’t die from hunger, too.
… to yours having some “private time” and mine accidentally walking in
… to yours trying to turn my muse on
… to yours tying up my muse
… to yours confessing a fetish
… to yours leaving hickeys on my muse’s neck
… to yours trying to play footsie with mine during a meeting
… to yours trying to go down on mine, under the table, during dinner
… to yours grinding up against my muse
… to yours bending over seductively to pick something up for my muse
… to yours giving my muse a lap dance
This is obv my muse’s fantasy, because your Levi isn’t like this. For some reason this is supposed to be my muse’s reaction, and I can’t write your awkward incapable of flirting Levi for shiznit, but I had to find a reason why your muse is being an unrelenting skank so.
Levi’s not usually the type to be jealous. He doesn’t have much to be jealous of. Erwin is usually the one sidling up to him like a shadow, touching a surreptitiously protective hand to his hip whenever he sees him talking to Hanji or Petra or the new intern Eren, or practically anyone else around the office. It’s infuriating, and Levi has come to near hate feeling the press of fingers at the small of his back that he anticipates anytime he stops to talk to anyone for more than five minutes.
Today, it’s Eren. The kid is asking for help with the filing system, looking up at him with wide, expectant eyes, and it’s cute. He likes the way this kid looks at him, all honest and unbeguiling and full of admiration. Levi nearly smiles, amused at the intentiveness of his attentions.
Like clockwork, Erwin comes up from behind. “Hey, Levi, when you have a moment, can you look over these reports?” Erwin asks, touching Levi’s elbow lightly.
Levi jerks his arm away reflexively, and gives Eren a placating look when he realizes the confusion on his face. “Sorry,” he says simply, hardly an apology, but he has a feeling Eren wouldn’t really hold it against him. “Will you excuse me?”
Levi turns to deliver a most devastatingly waspish frown in his boss’s direction, and indicates with a nod of his head that he should follow when he turns on his heel and walks down the row of cubicles. Erwin’s face is blank, not registering any sort of understanding, but he follows after anyways.
“Will you fucking quit it?” Levi hisses, stalking furiously back to his desk outside Erwin’s office. “It’s fucking embarrassing, you sniffing around me like some possessive piece of shit. Everyone’s noticed.”
Levi hates how easily and almost gracefully Erwin follows after him. “Well, we could just tell them we’re dating,” Erwin says simply.
Levi hates, too, how natural it is for him to suggest that. “No,” Levi insists, teeth gritted.