You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, trying to show him some stupid tiktok, when Levi loses his patience.
“What’s the deal with you and Erwin?”
The question’s been biting at the back of Levi’s throat all night. No, it’s been there for months, but the alcohol made him stupid- made him brave enough to ask the question aloud. You pause for a moment, head still bobbing to whatever shitty song Nifa decided to play over the speakers.
“What did you say?” you say after a long moment.
“You heard me. You and Erwin.”
You blink, then snort into your beer before taking a long sip. The video keeps playing, looping over and over again until Levi presses the side button to end his misery and save your phone battery. “Winnie’s my friend.”
Levi’s eyes flicker to the living room for just a moment to check in with the rest of the party, but it’s long enough to catch Erwin stealing a glance. Both men raise a brow at each other before returning to what they were doing: Erwin to his beer pong, Levi to … whatever this is.
Levi blames his bitterness on the alcohol.
Levi wants to protest at that. He’s not worried, not one bit. Sure, he wants to set himself on fire every time you called Ewrin ‘Winnie’…. but he’s certainly not worried.
“Nothing’s ever going to happen between us. Winnie’s cute and all but,” you continue with a shrug, laughing into the rim of your glass. “I don’t think he could, uh- do all the things I need.”
Levi raises one eyebrow, watching a corner of the kitchen as if he isn’t hanging on your every word. There’s a flicker -a tiny, tiny, tiny, flicker- of happiness building in between his ribs that that he can’t explain.
He shouldn’t- no, he doesn’t- care about your love life, and yet he finds himself asking: “Like?”
You wiggle and kick your feet, the lack of sleep and early hour making you unusually giddy. “You know, he’s so proper and nice, I can’t imagine that he could-”
You gesture vaguely in front of you, stumbling over your words. “He’s such a nice guy, but I don’t think he could- argh, you know-”
“You don’t think he’d fuck you.” Levi realizes it as he says it.
You shrug, clearly trying to bite back a wicked grin. Your legs brushes up against his much too firmly to be an accident as you lean in to him to whisper, forehead pressed into his temple. “I don’t think he’d fuck me right.”
Levi thinks it’s the sugary mixed drinks that are making his heart race. It’s the alcohol making his skin burn, making his clothes feel too heavy- he knows he should reel himself in, knows he should leave sleeping dogs lie…
Levi isn’t sure when his hand found your thigh, but he’s aware of it creeping upwards. He almost wishes that you’ll stop him, cut him off before he really gets his hopes up.
“And what constitutes as fucking you right?” Levi says.
“Hard. Fast.” Your thighs part every so slightly, letting his fingertips travel closer to your center, “Rough. Dirty.”
You lean away from him, back on to your hands, to watch him. There’s a hunger in your eyes, a fire that Levi would love to feed.
“Do you know anyone willing to give me that, Levi?”
The song changes. The heavy bass matches the pattern of his heartbeat. “I have a couple ideas.”
