Eren thinks that he might be facing death right now. That is to say, if he fucks this up, Levi is going to gut him with the razor in his hand and they’ll never find his body.
He had stumbled into Levi’s quarters after training, intending to take a shower before heading down for dinner. Upon entering their (now shared, thanks to their relationship, which had veered sharply into the romantic category sometime last month) he found the rather bizarre sight of Levi shirtless and leaning over the counter, a few steel implements laid neatly in front of him, and what looked to be shaving cream smeared over the back of his head.
Eren squeaked and stood stock still, hoping that he hadn’t unwittingly walked in on some strange ritual, but a few moments of Levi staring at him impassively and Eren realised that his Corporal had been cutting his hair.
“Uh, sorry Corporal, I’ll just uh, go,” he offered, making to turn around and leave the bathroom, but he was interrupted by Levi’s voice.
“Eren. Come here and help me with this."
Eren approached warily as Levi turned to press a metal razor into his hands.
"If you fuck this up, I will end you,” said Levi, voice low and only mildly threatening as he turned back to face the mirror and offer his back to Eren.
The Corporal’s height was perfect (not that he’d ever say that aloud) for this, and Eren only had to bend down slightly to scrape the razor over the pale neck of his older lover. This close, he could see goosebumps forming on the exposed skin.
“Do you always do this yourself, sir?” He asked as he worked. Levi gave an affirmative hum, but spoke when Eren’s silence seemed to prompt an answer.
“I don’t like other people with blades near my neck or behind me.” Eren hummed in response, the answer making a lot of sense. Even with their primary enemy being Titans, all of them within the Survey Corps were first and foremost soldiers, and even Eren got twitchy when someone made aborted motions near his head. It made even more sense with Levi, especially if any of the rumours surrounding his past was true.
It was only then that Eren realised the implications of the situation - that Levi had just essentially told him he didn’t even like his comrades - to whom he entrusted his life to - with this act of intimacy, but the same Levi had basically just pressed a piece of sharp metal and offered Eren easy access to the back of his neck.
Eren’s ministrations had stilled with the shock of the realisation, and Levi’s shoulders tensed slightly, not because of a perceived threat, but because he guessed where Eren’s thought processes went, and it wasn’t like he was the type to get embarrassed, but he was half naked in his own damn bathroom and the admission he’d just made was making him uncomfortable in the cool silence.
But Eren just picked up the razor again, carefully dragging the blade up the back of Levi’s skull, and then to the sides, trimming underneath the longer hairs at his crown with a precision he hadn’t expected the normally clumsy boy to have.
Eren’s hands were soft (courtesy of his healing abilities) and gentle against his skin and ears and neck, and the drag of a warm, damp cloth pulled over his neck and back to collect the fallen hairs on his skin soothed the tension in Levi’s shoulders. When he looked up to the mirror to check the boy’s work, he found it was perfect, and when he met the boy’s eyes, he found a familiar brightness in those blue-green eyes.
“Thank you, Eren. It’s not a bad job."
Eren just smiled softly, eyes still holding on to that strange expression from earlier. He bent down and pressed a soft kiss to the back of Levi’s neck, and murmured softly against the pale, scarred skin.
"Thank you for your trust in me, Corporal.”
Levi’s eyes softened, and he turned around so that Eren was now crowding him against the bathroom counter. He pulled the boy close, kissed him softly, slowly, like he had all the time in the world.
Levi likes it when their knuckles line up, fingers pieced together like zipper teeth, like cobblestones, like feathers. He squeezes their bones together, tries to fuse them into one mass, because then maybe he will never leave. He can’t leave. The sky is too high, and Erwin hasn’t shown it all to him yet.
Erwin likes it when Levi sighs out a moan so short and clipped, it’s as if he’s knocked the wind out him. This man with a title bigger than his stature, the man smart and determined enough to teach himself the directional gear, could be the same man that buckles under somebody as broken as himself.
And when it happens at the same time, Erwin’s hips meeting the back of Levi’s thighs, they find a piece that keeps them both whole. And when they come, they seem to lose their names and the bodies between them. And when they kiss, they know that it will need to end someday.
But someday is forever away, and Levi hopes it’s farther away than the vast fathoms of the sky.