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The sun’s just starting its ascent on the horizon, but Levi already knows the weather would be terrible today.
Dark clouds that hang heavily in the sky, threatening a storm, sunlight that is barely able to pierce through them, too pale and weak even for an early morning, and a sound of tree branches tapping against the window that is already picking up in speed and velocity further indicate the tempest that’s about to be unleashed.
Any other day it wouldn’t matter much to Levi – he doesn’t get out of the house too much these days anyway, and a day like this is perfect for staying up in bed with a good book and even better cup of tea, body wrapped up in a warm blanket and pressed against even warmer Hange.
Alas, today is not the day Levi can so carelessly indulge in such frivolity. Today, he has guests coming over – a whole lot of them. And since Hange continues snoring into the pillow without a care in the world, it is up to him to prepare their cozy little cabin for the arrival of the guests.
Levi knows, of course, holds no illusions that the order he’s about to reinforce will be mercilessly wrecked the second that that horde of brats passes through the threshold. Maybe, even earlier – if Hange wakes up sooner than they usually do.
The job he does is mostly thankless, and it only got a tiniest bit easier after he once forced Hange to clean the house for a week straight, and didn’t get off their ass until they did it properly. They still make a mess frequently – spill the flour all over the kitchen, leave dirty footprints in the hallway, clatter the living room with plates and cups, but– it happens only if they get really fixated on one problem or another. And they get so guilty afterwards, staring at his uncooperating legs, as if they’re personally to blame for a state they’re in that Levi actually feels bad for chiding them.
Besides, Hange and their raccoon-like tendencies he knows how to handle. But today, it’s not just four-eyes Levi has to deal with. It would be a whole crowd of equally chaotic fools – an entire squad, if he still cared to use such terms. Which he tries not to, he is, after all, as happily retired as one could be, considering everything he had to suffer to get where he now is.
And as all happily retired, mentally stable people, Levi tries to erase everything that’s tied to his years of service, vocabulary included. He is not a Captain anymore, and Hange is not Commander, and the kids that are coming over to visit them today are just that - kids. Even if all of them had grown taller than Levi nearly a decade ago.
To him, they’re the same annoying, loud brats they always will be. And even if he knows that they’re going to absolutely trash his lovely house upon their arrival – especially, if alcohol will be involved, and it most certainly will be, since Kirstein is coming over too, nevertheless, he still will do his best to make his and Hange’s house look as clean and cozy as possible.
But, first, he needs to tend to his own appearances. So, with a heavy sigh, Levi raises on his palms and drags his body over to the wheelchair, the motion already so practiced it feels effortless.
He moves to the adjusting bathroom and only there, after splashing his face with cold water, he feels awake enough to start his day in earnest.
The rain starts pattering against the window, as Levi takes the first sip of his morning tea. He heaves a sigh, already dreading what the awful weather entails.
Never in his life had he felt any kind of inclination towards the rain, but out there – in a little cabin, away from any kind of civilization and hidden by a thick canopy of leaves, it turns into a completely different kind of disaster. Rain means damp earth and that means dirty footprints all over the floor, and even worse - moist, muddied trails that, as Levi had recently learnt, means that kids have a high enough chance of getting stuck in the middle of nowhere.
And, honestly, he doesn’t get it. Even after all this time and despite making his peace and even enjoying some of the fruits of the newer technology – he especially appreciates the fridge that keeps their food fresh and allows them to visit the nearest town as rarely as possible, and electric lamps that don’t bleed wax all over like candles usually do, Levi still doesn’t understand the whole appeal of these so-called cars.
Horses don’t need oil to sustain themselves, they can walk on practically any terrain and they’re far more reliable than any box with a motor could ever be. And they make for an excellent company. Can a car nuzzle into your face after a long, exhausting day? Or neigh sympathetically while you’re ranting about insufferable four-eyes?
Levi doesn’t think so.
And so, he doesn’t at all get the fascination with those metallic death boxes, and his opinion on them lowered even further after the events of the last winter.
That year, it snowed especially heavily, and it was not just their little cabin that got engulfed in snow – the roads, thin and precarious even on the best days, turned nearly invisible under a white thick blanket. Not that it turned the brats away from their destination – they stubbornly pushed through, as all fools do, to the point that Hange had not only had to grab a shovel and dig their car out, they had to search for them with a lantern for nearly an hour first.
All the while, Levi had been stewing in anxiety, waiting for them, and when Hange finally came back – victorious, with rescued brats hugging them from all sides, his worry quickly turned to anger. The four-eyed idiot didn’t take their mittens or put on a hat, they only threw on a coat that they didn’t even button up properly, and as a result – their face was rosy from excursion, and their hands – deathly blue from cold.
Levi spent an entire evening pouring cup after cup of scoldingly hot tea inside Hange, and, despite his best efforts, he still had to look after their sick ass for nearly a week.
Hopefully, history won’t repeat itself today, and the car they all constantly sing praises about would get the brats to their cabin without accidents.
Dealing with Hange on a regular basis can be quite taxing, but it turns into a nearly infeasible ordeal whenever they catch a cold. They become weak and whiny and look so pitiful that saying no to their whims is almost impossible.
Levi’s success rate is nothing to brag about as it is, and that’s when Hange is not bedridden or coughing their lungs out.
Finishing the last of his tea, Levi doesn’t hurry to start the chores that await him. He sits back in his wheelchair, stares at the patterns the raindrops create on the surface of the window and basks in the last moments of his peace.
But soon after, Hange bursts into the kitchen, breaking Levi out of his brief reverie, with a loud, open-mouthed yawn. Clad in a simple, worn-out shirt and pants, with hair wild after sleep and missing the eyepatch, with just glasses perched up on their nose, they look so incredibly soft. Relaxed in a way they only allow themself to be when it’s just two of them.
It’s not the first morning that Levi sees them like that. Not the last one either. But even after all this time, the sight of Hange like that – soft and relaxed and unafraid to appear vulnerable – steals his breath away.
The same way as his, their body bears too many scars – their face and a better half of their extremities and torso are covered in burn marks, the skin there still red, easily irritated and tight enough that they sometimes have difficulty lifting their arms all the way up, their hair had just recently started growing back on the left side of their head and now sticks up in even more directions than before, their right eye is forever milky white with a scar running over it, and even to this day, Hange prefers to cover it up, convinced it looks too ugly, no matter how many times Levi tried to persuade them otherwise.
But they’re alive – safe and sound, slowly healing. And what’s more, they’re here, by his side – sharing breakfasts, lunches and dinners, bickering about the most random of stuff, dumping on him the most ridiculous trivia that they’ve come across, falling asleep and waking up beside him. It’s not always perfect, even on their best days they argue – Hange throws doors in his face and Levi gives them silent treatment, but neither of them can stay mad at each other for too long. And on the nastiest of days, Hange is there to distract him from gloomy thoughts with silly jokes and barely coherent ramblings or they wrap their arms around him when that’s not enough. And whenever Hange feels down, whether the reason for it is either physical pain or emotional turmoil, Levi considers it his duty and his highest honor to be there to give them a cup of soothing tea or offer to massage their stiff muscles, translating all the gentle words he never knew into loving touch.
Their life is not perfect, but it exists, and they deal with everything it throws at them together. And Levi probably will never tire of thanking the universe for it.
It’s during this little, utterly inconsequential for anyone but him moments that Levi can’t help but think that Hange is not merely his oldest friend, not just someone who out of sheer luck survived and hasn't left his side. No, Hange is so much more than that. They’re his sun after a storm, his laughter in silence, his light in darkness. They’re his person, his other half.
Their eyes perfectly reflect that.
“Hey,” Hange weaves a hand into his hair, scratching lightly under his buzzcut. “You’re spacing out, shorty. Slept well?”
“Yeah,” Levi swats their hand away, but weakly, without even a shadow of annoyance. He’s gotten too used to Hange’s breaching his personal space to summon any kind of anger at it. Not when it feels that nice. “Just thinking what else needs to be done. The kids will be here soon.”
“I can’t wait!” Hange exclaims – right into his ear. He flicks them on the forehead, showing his displeasure. Invading his personal space is one thing, but their shrill, high voice is still annoying, especially this early in the morning.
Hange doesn’t react to that whatsoever and passes his wheelchair to get to the cattle.
“No coffee,” Levi warns immediately. “You’re loud as fuck as it is.”
Hange rolls their eyes with an overdramatic huff, but— obediently chooses a tea bag.
“Fine, you old, boring man. I’ll drink your tea then.”
Levi doesn’t protest the boring part, nor the part about his age. He’s not in a habit of denying reality, after all. But one thing he feels he needs to point out.
“You’re just as old as me, four-eyes.”
“Uh-huh,” Hange raises a finger, then turns around, flashing Levi a crooked grin. “I’m almost three years younger. You are ancient, shorty.”
“Well, sucks to be you then. You’ll be stuck cleaning my ancient shit for nearly three years before I need to do the same.”
Hange first presses their hands to their chest with a blissful smile, then blows him a kiss with their eyes glinting wickedly.
“For you, my dear,” they say, voice low and husky. It does not affect Levi at all. “I’d even clean your shit.”
“Idiot,” Levi scoffs without any real heat behind it. He quickly turns the wheelchair around, before Hange can catch a sight of red on his cheeks, and moves out of the kitchen.
He nearly crossed the hallway, when he remembers just who he lives with and pauses just long enough to shout,
“Don’t burn the kitchen!”
The answer to that is a loud cackling and a careless, “Can’t promise anything!”
Levi sighs, but resists raising to Hange’s bait. He needs to preserve as much patience as possible. A whole day with brats is awaiting him, after all.
It’s nearing midday when a sound of a car approaching reaches their cabin.
Hange reacts instantly to that by letting out a joyful shriek that is loud enough to shake their whole house and annoying enough to make Levi’s head throb with the beginnings of a migraine.
Hange runs out of the kitchen the next moment, grinning like a madman. They have already fastened an eyepatch over their damaged eye and changed their clothes - put on a blue sweater and a nice pair of pants that Levi had just washed the other day and that they immediately try to ruin by wiping their flour-colored hands on them. He means to reprimand them for that, but doesn’t get a chance to – Hange wraps their hands around the handlers of his wheelchair and starts pushing him towards the porch.
Levi wants to say that he’s unaccustomed to such blatant disregard for his bodily autonomy, but he shares a house with the most chaotic, ill-mannered and impulsive person he ever had a misfortune to meet, and – a great fortune to befriend. At this point, he expects nothing else from them.
Out on the porch, Hange’s brimming with nervous energy, as they wait for the car to pull up. They rock on the balls of their feet and rub their palms in circular motions around the wheelchair’s handles. Levi can practically feel their desire to run out in the rain to meet the kids as soon as possible. But Hange knows Levi hates the rain, they know he won’t get under it on his own volition. And they don’t want to leave him all alone.
They’re chaotic, ill-mannered and impulsive, but— they’re considerate where it really matters.
That’s why Levi loves them so. Amongst a thousand different reasons.
The first to get out is Connie, who exits the car before it even fully stops. After him follows Armin, then Mikasa, who holds the door open for Gabi and Falco. Huh. Levi didn’t know they were coming over too. And judging by a joyful, yet surprised expression on Hange’s face, they didn’t know it either.
Well, it is indeed a nice surprise, Levi concludes. Usually, those two brats visit with Onyankopon.
The last to get out of the car is, naturally, the driver, Jean. He walks out of it slowly, straightening the brim of his hat and doing his best to appear as nonchalant as possible. Levi can only scoff at that. Hange will shred all of that nonchalance in a matter of seconds.
And Hange immediately sets out to do so – leaving Levi’s side to give each brat a piece of their love. They kiss Connie on top of his head, Mikasa – on both of her cheeks, then hug Armin so tightly that they lift him off his feet, they raffle Falco’s hair and pinch Gabi’s cheek, earning a glare from the girl that melts down the instant Hange winks at her. Then, at last, Hange reaches Jean. They approach him slowly, smiling almost coyly, and raise their fist up as if going for a fist bump. Yet Jean ignores the gesture completely, and with a fond huff, scoops Hange into his arms, snug enough that Levi thinks he hears the sound of Hange’s bones creaking.
The way the kids greet Levi is far more mellow, but— no less affectionate. Jean and Connie heartily shake his hand, Armin squeezes his shoulder with a sweet smile, Mikasa gently pats his hand, Falco gives him a shy wave and Gabi leans down for a brief but tight embrace.
“Alright, folks!” Hange claps their hands, attracting everyone’s attention. “We both missed you very, very much, but I don’t think our porch can handle that many people. So, let’s get going! The snacks are waiting inside!”
The brats don’t need to be told twice, and one by one they start trickling inside the cabin, stopping only to take their shoes off before crossing the threshold. Levi watches it happen with a sense of swelling pride – it wasn’t easy, but he taught them well, wheedling out all their bad habits like they were never even there.
“Don’t look so smug,” Hange chides softly. “They are probably terrified that you’d them make clean the whole house if they leave even a speck of dirt.”
“You say that like I wouldn’t.”
Hange laughs, and once the kids all get inside, starts pushing his wheelchair in the same direction.
“You never change, clean freak.”
By the time he and Hange reach the kitchen, the kids have already started boiling the kettle, set the table and even brought the extra chairs from the hallway.
It’s a force of habit at this point, but Levi pauses and cocks his head, evaluating the job they’ve done. The brats around the table tense up, as he checks how they assembled plates and cups.
“Don’t,” Hange warns in a whisper, their hand moving from the wheelchair’s handle to his shoulder, squeezing it with a bit too much force.
But Levi ignores them, continuing with his silent inspection. Huh, he concluded, the brats even put out napkins.
“Not bad,” he says at last. Immediately, Connie and Jean breathe out a sigh of relief, and Armin and Mikasa exchange a proud look.
Behind him, Hange scoffs.
“What Levi meant to say,” they begin with a sweet smile. Levi rolls his eyes at that. There they go again, spoiling the damn brats with their endless kindness. “Is that we’re grateful for laying out the table for us. You didn’t have to do it, but thank you. Now, go wash your hands and take a seat. I cooked a pie!”
“Baked,” Levi corrects quietly, but loud enough for Hange to hear it. “You cook dinner, but a pie you bake.”
Hange reacts just like he predicted they would – with an annoyed huff.
“Didn’t know you’re such an expert,” Hange scoffs, leveling Levi with a glare. “Could have shared your wisdom with me beforehand and actually helped out.”
“As if I would ever step foot in a kitchen while you’re busy making a mess of it.”
“Or you were just too busy polishing the floors until you can see the reflection of your pretty face.”
“Not all of us can just eat and shit, four-eyes. Someone has to keep this house nice and clean.”
Hange turns to face him, expression fiery, but the building tension dies down, as they hear Jean murmur to Mikasa,
“Here they go again, bickering like an old married couple. It never gets old, doesn’t it?”
The table erupts in laughter, Hange’s face lights up at that and even Levi’s gaze softens as he watches Mikasa try to stifle her laughter in a sleeve of her dress. The only one not joining in the fun is Gabi, who looks at all of them in confusion. She scrutinizes Jean especially, frowning at him like he just said something incredibly strange.
“Why like?” she asks, turning everyone’s eyes on her. “You said they bicker like an old married couple, but aren’t Levi and Hange… actually married?”
“What?” Hange asks, voice too high to appear calm. With a wobbly smile, they smother down their shirt and push the glasses up their nose – all of their tell-tale signs of being nervous. Levi wishes he could help them out, but alas – he’s just as flabbergasted. “What are you talking about, Gabi?”
Hange speaks Levi’s thoughts exactly. What the hell the girl is spewing out? Him and four-eyes? Married? What a ludicrous thought. Completely preposterous. How could she even reach that conclusion? Him and Hange, they never— they are not like that. They’re friends, just— well, just life-long best friends. But that’s it. That’s where it starts and ends. Nothing more. How could anyone think otherwise? Does anyone think otherwise, apart from Gabi?
“Oh, sorry,” Gabi says, and sounds actually regretful. Levi breathes a sigh of relief – the crisis, or whatever the fuck that was, is averted, but then— then Gabi continues. “You didn’t officiate it? Was there no such thing as weddings on Paradise?”
“No, Gabi,” Hange tries again, “that’s not—”
And ultimately fails once more.
Gabi carries on, either unbothered or completely oblivious to the stunned silence that fell over the dining table.
“Oh, I know what we have to do!” she exclaims with a huge grin on her face. “We’ll ask Onyankopon the next time he comes to visit, he must know some pretty churches around here. We’ll get you both nice suits and gather flowers – oh, there must so, so many of them! It’ll be so—”
“Gabi,” Hange makes another attempt, with a smile on their face so tight that it looks close to breaking. Levi wants to help them out, he really does, he searches for the right words to do so, but comes up completely empty. Young and fierce Gabi Braun has left him completely speechless. “Thank you, dear, really, but that’s not—”
It’s not what, Levi can’t help but wonder. Not for them? Not something Hange ever thought about? Not something that they want? Not something that they want with Levi?
Levi never thought about it either. Is not at all sure he could ever want something like a wedding, but… finding out that Hange doesn’t seem to want it, for some reason, resonates with a dull pain deep in his chest.
But however Hange was going to end that sentence, Levi, or anyone else at the table, doesn’t get a chance to hear, as Gabi interrupts them once again.
“Of course, it’s necessary!” she cries out, completely misinterpreting Hange’s words and the whole unfolding situation. “It’s such a nice occasion for celebration, and, don’t you worry, we all are going to help you out. Right, guys?”
Gabi looks around the table, searching for support, but what she finds instead is utter silence.
Unable to look in Hange’s direction anymore, afraid to catch their gaze and find out what they’re actually thinking, Levi turns to the table too, studying the faces of his past subordinates and trying to wheedle out the traitors among them.
Falco, who’s weakly clutching Gabi’s hand and pulling at it in a failing attempt to make her shut up, looks like he’s two seconds away from combusting from the sheer force of second-hand embarrassment. Jean appears mildly horrified, and Connie – Connie looks like he’s about to puke. Mikasa seems amused, grinning without shame when she catches Levi looking at her. And Armin – their sweet, docile Armin – looks like he just had an epiphany and is now trying to understand what to do with it.
Cowards, Levi surmises grimly. Cowards and traitors. It’s time for him to step up then.
“Stop it, Gabi,” he tells the girl sternly. “Hange and I are not getting married. Now or ever.”
“But why?” Gabi questions, apparently too fired up to be silenced so easily. “That’s a logical next step, no? You already live together, and I know there is only one bed here, so—”
“It’s not like that,” Levi firmly cuts her off. “We,” he says, emphasizing the word, “are not like that.”
Gabi looks like she wants to say more, but Falco finally succeeds in shushing her. She sits back in her chair, hands crossed on her chest. Defiant still, but, at least, silent for now.
Levi counts his blessings at that. He looks over at Hange, waiting for a grateful look from them for successfully defusing the situation, but when he turns to them, their lips are pursed and they avert their gaze, as soon as they catch Levi looking. They appear disappointed, almost… hurt? And Levi’s confusion grows.
Could it be that he’s mistaken? That what he saw on Hange’s face is just a trick of light? That it’s just a coincidence that they looked away from him the moment he was looking at them?
It must be just a coincidence, Levi decides immediately. Why else would it be anything but that? It’s not like what he just said wasn’t the truth.
Was it?
Still, something close to worry gnaws at him. Levi wants Hange to look at him again, just to make sure he was imagining things. He wants to pull them aside and talk about what just happened, but as Hange lifts their face up, the expression from before is gone, and in its place blooms a wide, radiant smile.
That seems a tad too forced to Levi.
“It’s time for a pie!” they announce loudly, and immediately busy themself with cutting it and sharing pieces of it over the table.
Levi tries to catch their gaze a couple of times, but does not succeed. Hange looks anywhere but at him.
Well, so be it, he decides. It’s not like Hange can ignore him for too long. They live in the same house, after all.
He looks over their way once more, then shakes his head, and, with a sigh, starts pouring out tea.
As the last piece of pie is served, Hange takes a seat at the head of the table (Levi tries not to pay attention to the fact that that seat is as far away from him possible), leans forward with their hands pressed against the wooden surface, curls their lips into an expectant smile, and says,
“Alright, you guys, now tell us how it’s been going.”
As soon as they utter those words, it’s like an explosion was set off. The brats start talking over each other, everyone eager to share their story and seemingly incapable of waiting for their turn. It’s total chaos – Jean keeps interrupting Connie and Connie threatens to kick Jean in the face, while Armin makes an unsuccessful attempt to calm both boys down, and Falco fights with Gabi, who tries to steal a piece of his pie. The only one not going crazy is Mikasa, who’s just watching all of this unraveling with stoic, if slightly amused, silence, sipping on her tea, composed and unperturbed.
Levi envies her. He wants to maintain the same type of tranquility, but, unfortunately, after just a few minutes of listening to this ruckus, he feels like tearing his hair out.
Shit, he really is getting older.
He looks over to Hange, searching for some sort of support, but finds their seat empty. They’re next to the oven, cutting another piece of pie for Gabi – because, of course, they didn’t stop at baking just one pie. They know those brats too damn well to make such a mistake.
Out of the corner of his eye, Levi sees Connie reach out to tug at Jean’s hair and Armin desperately tries to stop him by pulling on his sleeve, and that becomes his breaking point. Enough is enough, Levi decides.
He slams his palm against the table with enough force to make the cups rattle.
“Quiet!” he orders in a voice he hasn’t used ever since his happy retirement. The chaos calms down instantly. Levi nods to himself, satisfied. It seems not all of his skills have completely rusted. Good to know. “Stop the screaming, you’re not wild animals. Connie,” he points at the boy. He always had a soft spot for him, annoying little shit that he is. “You go first, and everyone else – listen. Especially you, Kirstein.”
After that, thank the gods, the peace, at last, settles.
Connie shares a story of how Jean tried to woo some Marleyan girl, invited her over for a few drinks, then somehow ended up in a different part of town with his wallet empty, except for a note with a smiling face drawn on it. And, okay, Levi kind of understands Jean’s desperation to shut Connie up. The story is embarrassing. And so, Jean retaliates by telling everyone how Connie sat down to play cards with some refugees, and in the end not only lost all his money, but also almost all of his clothes, ending the night in just his undergarments.
Gabi speaks of her and Falco’s travels with Onyankopon, making Hange, who at that time, still had been recovering from their injuries and unable to join them, incredibly jealous. Gabi talks about the cities that they visited and settlements they helped to rebuild, and Hange interrupts her nearly at every sentence, bombarding the poor girl with a dozen questions – from peculiarities of architecture to local floral life.
Mikasa doesn’t talk much, not about her own life back at the island, at least, but she says that Historia sends her regards, and then starts gushing about her baby boy, who’s already turning three this year. She even brought some pictures, which get passed around the table, so that everyone can see for themselves just how adorable the kid is.
Inspired by this, Hange demands that everyone else gets a camera for themselves too, and then comes back next time with photographs, so they could start making an album.
And Armin, the humblest of them all, talks about how he went on a tour around one of the surviving cities, got so distracted by a different architecture that he got completely lost in it, and had to spend the night in a park, sleeping on a bench. Worried out of her mind Annie had to ask for help from local police to locate and bring him back home.
Then, blushing furiously and stuttering over every other word, Armin confesses that he thinks of proposing to Leonhart, and at that – the table erupts in cheers. Jean and Connie envelop him in a bear hug, Mikasa tells she’s proud of him as she leaves a kiss on his cheek, Gabi threatens violence if Armin ever hurts his bride-to-be, and Hange, if Levi’s eyes do not deceive him, quietly wipes off a few tears.
And no matter how much he likes to make fun of them for being such an emotional wreck, this time, Levi sort of understands them.
Their brats have grown so much, haven’t they?
And while he never liked Leonhart, truthfully, he doesn’t really know much about her, except their shared and a rather traumatic for both parties past, but— the girl seems to make their Armin genuinely happy. And, honestly, that’s all Levi needs to know to approve of her.
Armin’s announcement makes the already lively atmosphere around the table even merrier, and soon Connie and Mikasa start gathering the dirty cups and plates, bringing them over to the sink for Jean and Falco to clean up, and one by one, everyone migrates to the living room.
Jean brings a carton of juice for Gabi and Falco and a bottle of wine for everyone else, and Hange turns on the gramophone, and, just like that, their quiet little cabin fills with sounds of up-beat music, clinking of glasses and soft laughter.
The cozy, light feeling of it all is infectious, warming Levi up better than the fireplace he just lit up ever could.
The day would have been completely perfect, that much better than it already is, if— if Hange looked at him even once.
But for whatever reason, they keep avoiding Levi’s gaze like plague.
After Connie opens the second wine bottle, and Hange brings a third one out of their stash in the attic, their impromptu party gets a second breath of life.
Hange decides that everyone is already tipsy enough to take it to the dancefloor, and Connie becomes their first victim. They drag him around the living room in some crude mockery of a dance, bumping into furniture and cackling loudly every time they do.
Watching the two of them drunkenly spin around, Levi tries – and fails – to quell a sudden spike of jealousy. Usually, all of Hange’s first dances belong to him.
And it’s not like he acutely misses dancing with them or anything, it’s not uncommon for Hange to turn on their favorite song at any hour of the day and grab a hold of Levi’s wheelchair, forcing him to sway to the beat alongside them, spinning him around and falling dramatically over his lap whenever they feel especially cheerful. Sometimes, Hange doesn’t even need actual music, they just hum some melody under their breath, as they hold Levi’s hand and sway it to and fro, smiling gently at him.
So, no, Levi doesn’t actually miss dancing with Hange, but the change in their behavior is abrupt and noticeable enough to make him squirm uncomfortably. He had done something wrong today, he’s sure. He just can’t guess what exactly.
“I messed up today, didn’t I?” is the first thing Gabi tells him, as she takes a seat next to Levi. “When I asked if you’re married, I mean. Falco says I shouldn’t have done it. Is he right?”
Yes, Levi wants to scream, but, deep down, he knows that even if Gabi’s questions were out of place and more than a little inappropriate, ultimately, it was him who messed it all up. He has no right to blame the girl, if he himself can’t understand what exactly he did wrong.
“It’s fine,” he says to her, making his voice as soft as he’s capable of. “We’ll be over it in no time, four-eyes and I fight all the time.”
He realizes the moment that those words leave his mouth that he said the wrong thing.
Gabi’s eyes widen and her voice is laced with concern, when she asks, “You had a fight?”
“No,” Levi says instantly. Then corrects himself. “Maybe. I don’t know. Four-eyes’s been acting strange, but it’s not your fault. I mean it.”
Gabi’s quiet for a moment, eyes trained downwards and hands playing nervously with the hem of her dress. She’s gathering the courage to say something else, Levi realizes. He braces himself for it.
“You… You really aren’t married? But I thought—”
Levi gently pats her head, cutting off whatever nonsense she was about to say.
“My advice, kid, think less. Especially about other people. Will save you lots of trouble.”
Gabi looks like she wants to argue with that, but she quiets down, as soon as she meets Levi’s gaze.
“Yeah, okay,” she murmurs. “But I’m still sorry.”
“Don’t be. Come and dance with me instead.”
At that, Gabi lights up like her birthday has come early. With a wide smile on her face, she takes Levi by the hand and helps him move closer to the center of the room. They sway their hands to the slow beat of the song, and Gabi spins around, letting her dress flow beautifully over her legs whenever Levi lifts his arm to allow her more movement.
They must look ridiculous, he can’t help but think, especially next to Hange and Armin, who perform a valid enough attempt at waltz. But Gabi’s smile is bright and genuine, and it feels nice to be the reason for it, so tonight, Levi takes his own advice and decides to think less.
The next to approach him is Connie, who instead of sitting down in an armchair next to Levi like any normal person would, crouches next to him instead.
“It’s weird,” he says, or attempts to – be it the amount of alcohol he already consumed or the consequences of being Hange’s dance partner, but he’s slightly out of breath and his speech is slurring. “What Gabi said about you and Hange-san, I mean. It’s just— you sorta are like our parents, you know? Took care of us and protected us, and gave us shit when we deserved it, and you always were by each other's side, and it was so, hm, endearing? Which makes me, wait—” Levi turns to the boy with alarm, thinking he’s going to puke – he had done it once, when he was still a kid, and one time was more than enough for Levi. But Connie’s not puking. His face is not green, he has no trouble breathing. Levi wants to sigh in relief, but Connie seems to be staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. And, Levi realises, the worst is yet to come. “It’s not weird then, is it? Parents, they, well, love each other. And, usually, they’re married too. At least mine were, and by that logic—”
“You were never particularly strong in that area,” Levi deadpans, but his jest falls on deaf ears, and to his horror, Connie carries on.
“Yeah, it makes sense that Gabi thought you were, well, you know. I never thought about the two of you like that, but all things considered… yeah, I can totally see that. I mean,” he turns to look at Levi, and, apparently, there is enough alcohol in him to feel brave enough to wiggle his eyebrows at him. “There is just one bed in here.”
Levi doesn’t consider wasting his breath on trying to explain himself – or Hange – to a drunken Connie to be a productive task, so he doesn’t, and his only answer to that quite lengthy monologue is a curt, decisive,
“You’re drunk as fuck, Springer.”
However, his dismissal doesn’t mean that Connie’s words don’t give him pause.
Sure, the brat’s correct. There is just one bed in their cabin, but, truthfully, Levi never considered it as something out of the ordinary.
In the beginning, after he and Hange just moved in here, it was a matter of convenience more than anything else. Both he and Hange required assistance, their wounds too fresh and still aching badly back then, and running from one room to another was simply a waste of their already minimal amount of strength. And after they regained most of their mobility, they were so used to sleeping side by side that they didn’t burden themselves with getting a second bed.
Sleeping close to one another made cold winter nights that much warmer and easier to weather through, and whenever one of them had a nightmare, which happened nearly every other night, especially while they were still adjusting to their new lives, they woke up already in each other arms, ready to console and calm each other down.
Their sleeping arrangements were built on practicality, meant to ensure the maximum amount of comfort. So, why was everybody acting like it’s something weird?
He’s still trying to parse through it, when Mikasa comes to join his side.
Just moments ago, Levi had seen it with his own eyes, she was twirling in Hange’s arms, bright-eyed and smiling. But as she takes a seat in the armchair next to him, her lips are pursed and brows drawn together.
“I thought you were smarter than me,” she says tersely, glaring at Levi beneath her lashes. “But you’re an even bigger fool than I was. You’re just luckier. And I can’t even hate you for that. I just wish that you get your head out of your ass one of these days.”
She doesn’t give Levi a chance to retort, although he doesn’t really know what he’d even say if she did, and resolutely straightens her skirt, giving him another dark look before she stands up and, without another word, walks up to Armin, wrapping her arms around him to start another dance.
Stunned, Levi watches them spin with a growing sense of anxiety. If Mikasa is bothered enough to come and chew him out, it can only mean one thing – he had really, really fucked it up this time.
Whatever that it is, whatever had he said, but it made Hange angry or, worse, upset enough for the others to take note. And what did he do about it? Nothing. While all of the brats have been, at least, trying, in their weird, inappropriate ways, to cheer Hange up, he’s been wallowing in his misery all evening, acting like some kicked puppy just because Hange ignores him.
Some best, life-long friend he was. He doesn’t even know what is actually bothering four-eyes.
Levi always prided himself on knowing Hange inside out. He may only seldomly keep up with their thought process, doesn’t always understand just what’s going on inside their giant, genius brain, but he always, always knows what they feel and why they feel it. Sometimes, he understands them even better than he does himself. They’re, after all, his person, his other half.
But now, he’s at a complete loss.
Is Hange upset? Are they unhappy with him? Because of him? Did whatever stupid shit come out of his mouth wedge a rift in their bond?
Can it be something permanent?
A brief, but devastating image of his life without Hange flashes in his mind: a silent house with no dirty plates and half-drunk and then forgotten cups of tea, a living room with no towering, taller than him stacks of books, a bedroom with just one bed that’s permanently cold and empty.
Instantly, Levi decides that he doesn’t like that image. Hates it with a burning passion. And it’s not just a prospect of loneliness that terrifies him so, he realizes. He can survive alone, he used to be pretty good at it – a long time ago, but still. He’s confident that he can do it.
But surviving without Hange? No, he doesn’t want to even imagine it. The thought alone makes his heart ache and his stomach feel like there’s a heavy stone inside that’s threatening to crush his insides.
He needs to fix this – whatever that this is. He has to do it, will do it. The only remaining question is how.
“Enjoying yourself?” Jean asks, as he falls into an armchair beside Levi. He offers him a glass of wine and Levi takes it with a grateful nod, downing nearly a half of it in one go in hopes that alcohol will somewhat dispel his gloomy thoughts. But as always, alcohol fails him.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his palm, he turns to Jean to give him a deadpan look.
“Everyone is drunk and loud. And it starts to smell like sweaty bodies in here.”
“So, all in all,” Jean clinks his glass against Levi’s, “you’re having a great night?”
Jean is right, although Levi would never admit that to him. He missed the brats, even if all they did today was getting on his nerves, and he cherishes their company. He’s grateful beyond words that they still find the time to come and visit, despite their busy lives.
But, but, there is just one tiny detail that ruins the experience. Hange’s avoiding him, it’s clear now. And try as he might, Levi can’t simply ignore that fact.
But none of it is the brats’ fault. So, he shares none of his musings out loud. Thankfully, Jean seems way too drunk to question him on the matter further.
“You always were a mystery to me, you know?” Jean says, twirling the wine in his glass. “All three of you were. You, Hange-san and Commander Erwin – especially him. But I think with time, I started to understand you just a little more. Or, well, so I thought until today.”
Jean pauses for a moment, taking a sip of his glass. Following his example, Levi does the same. The wine is sweet, with a bitter aftertaste, which makes for a nice contrast. It’s not bad, but, of course, pales significantly in comparison to tea.
Jean studies Levi out of the corner of his eyes, then sighs and turns to stare at the rest of the room, a wistful smile appearing on his lips as the still dancing Hange appears in his line of sight.
“Hange-san is, well, they are amazing, aren’t they?” he begins, voice soft. “Extraordinary in every sense of that word. I owe them a lot – more than just my life. And I know both of you have a shit ton of baggage, and I swear, I’m not trying to get involved in whatever’s going on between you two.” Jean promises, but Levi doesn’t believe a single word. Everything that everyone’s been doing this whole day is getting involved. He’s starting to get sick of it. “But you’ve heard the story of how I got drugged and robbed just because a pretty girl smiled at me. And so… it just boggles me how you can so easily disregard it when someone as wonderful as Hange looks at you the way they do.”
“And how,” Levi asks, his voice hoarse and catching on the last word, “How exactly do they look at me?”
“Oh.” Jean’s eyes widen almost comically fast. He looks at Levi as though his question had sobered him up fully. “Oh,” he repeats, still in disbelief. “You don’t know. Shit, you don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” Levi’s tone is strict and his gaze is sharp. He’s fed up already with all this vague nonsense.
Jean hurries to stand up. “Nope,” he murmurs anxiously. “Nope, nope. I told you I’m not getting involved. I’m just— I’m just going to excuse myself, I think. Have—” he awkwardly pats Levi on the shoulder. “Yeah, have a nice night. Love you, bye!”
And just like that, Jean is gone, pushing away Connie and nearly colliding with Falco in his haste to refill his glass.
Levi doesn’t chase after him. It’s apparent he won’t get answers from the boy. And most probably not from anyone else either.
There is only one person who can help him solve this dilemma. It seems like he has no choice, but to have a long and substantial conversation with Hange.
Out of the corner of his eye, Levi spots Armin approaching him. Never before had he missed the ability to run more than in this moment.
Exhaustion is not a word strong enough to describe just how done he is with the brats’ meddling today. He glances at Hange, just in case, just to check if they’re not over whatever’s been bugging them and can come to save him. But four-eyes is in the middle of some horrific, drunken imitation of a swing with Jean, so even if they weren’t avoiding him, four-eyes is evidently way too busy to jump to his rescue now.
So, it seems, his suffering is not yet finished.
Well, at least, it’s just Armin. Soft-spoken, polite and ultimately harmless Armin.
He reinforces Levi’s good opinion on him further, when he sits down next to him without even saying a word. He just sticks close to Levi, and with a soft smile watches the impromptu dance floor – Hange has abandoned Jean in favor of swirling around the room hand-in-hand with both Falco and Gabi, while Jean now has his arms around Mikasa, as they sway slowly to the melody only two of them can hear.
“I missed times like these,” Armin tells Levi after a moment. “You know, the ones where there were no monsters of foes looming on the horizon. Or, at least, they seemed to be far enough that we could forget ourselves. Have a bit of fun. Act a little careless. It might be just nostalgia, but… life seemed easier back then.”
Levi scoffs, but not out of malice. “It’s definitely nostalgia, but… I get what you’re saying.”
He feels like that too sometimes. Remembering the good old days – nights by the fire with all of the old guard, trading anecdotes and sharing dreams and visions of the future, or those awful, loud parties at the barracks that Levi always pretended to loathe and yet he was usually the one who stayed the longest, or even boring, uneventful breakfasts with his squad - he almost forgets about the tragedies that happened in between.
“Sometimes, I almost want to go back,” Armin admits with a bittersweet chuckle. “But we have to move forward, right? And the life we’ve built… it’s a good one, isn't it? And so different too! Say, could you ever imagine that it’d turn out like that?”
“No,” Levi confesses softly, his eyes not leaving Hange’s smiling face even for a second. “Not even in my wildest dreams.”
“Yeah, I never thought we’d manage to be so happy after all of this. Or that we’d be allowed to. But, you know,” Armin’s voice changes – becomes more persuasive, nearly insidious. Levi turns to him sharply, his gut churning. He has a strong feeling that he won’t like what the kid says next. “There’s always room for improvement. I mean,” Armin pauses, showing Levi a smile that makes goosebumps run up and down his arms. “There is just one bed here, right?”
And yep, Levi takes his words back. Armin is neither polite, nor harmless. The kid’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He’s awful, way worse than the rest of the brats.
“Leonhart corrupted you,” he tells Armin, hoping to install at least some shame in him.
But Armin’s smile just grows wider. The kid laughs, light and airy, revealing that he’s just as drunk, if not more so, than his friends.
“What can I say, love changes people. Isn’t that what Hange-san did to you too?”
Levi wants to argue, means to rebut that ridiculous claim, but then he remembers himself from more than a decade ago - a lonely, broken man, who tried his best to shy away from all kinds of human interaction until one weirdo came around and broke all of his defenses, and words die in his throat.
Sometimes he laments how clever those kids are. Laments, and— can’t help but be proud that he was the one who helped to shape them into people that they are today.
Levi looks up at Armin and finds the kid’s still smiling at him. But his smile changed again, it’s not creepy anymore. It’s soft, supportive. Armin shifts his gaze to Hange, as in a silent encouragement.
And Levi decides he had enough of sitting uselessly at his ass. If everyone is so hellbent on forcing him to talk with Hange, perhaps, it’s nigh time that he acquiesces.
It’s time to put that four-eyed menace to sleep anyway.
Bracing himself for the worst, Levi takes a deep breath and rolls his wheelchair towards Hange, stopping right by their feet.
“Four-eyes,” he calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.
He honestly didn’t mean to, but Hange still startles, whipping their head to stare at him with mouth open in a silent gasp.
“Levi!” their voice is a little breathless, probably from all the dancing that they did. “Oh, I didn’t see you!”
No shit, Levi wants to shoot back, that’s what happens when you avoid someone for the entire evening. But as soon as those words materialize in his mind, he realizes just how petty he’d sound if he voiced them out. He doesn’t want to show that side of himself – at least, not now, not when the kids are still around, gawking at the two of them like it’s the best entertainment that they have had in months.
“Let’s go,” he lifts his hand to tug at Hange’s sleeve. “It’s late already.”
“No, it’s not.” Hange protests instantly, moving their arm out of Levi’s reach.
And even now, he can’t help but notice, they refuse to look him in the eye.
Levi sighs heavily.
“It’s almost midnight,” he says tiredly, pointing at the clock right above Hange’s head. “The brats,” he first points at Connie whose head keeps falling over his arm as he struggles to keep himself upright on the sofa, then at Falco and Gabi who very obviously have troubles keeping their eyes open, “are dead at their feet. And you,” he resists the urge to push his finger into Hange’s chest. They made it abundantly clear that they won’t tolerate his touch right now. “Don’t look much better either.”
“Nonsense!” Hange forces out an overexaggerated, cheerful laugh. “I’m fine. I’m full of energy, actually. Me and the kids can still go—” their voice falters, a smile sliding off their face, when they look around and notice a lack of support in the brats’ expressions and their tired eyes. “Well, okay, since everyone else is so exhausted, I’ll— oh yeah, I’ll go for a walk!”
Levi gives them a deadpan look. “It’s still raining.”
Yet Hange remains unperturbed.
“Okay, then I’ll stay here, help the kids get ready for bed, it’d be like a sleepover!”
“They know damn well where the sleeping bags are and how to put them on the floor. And if you spend the night with them, your back will kill you in the morning. You’re not twenty anymore, four-eyes.”
“Well, then I’ll—”
Like an overstretched band, Levi’s patience snaps. He pulls at Hange’s wrist, more forcefully than he intended, causing them to stumble. They right themself instantly and jump back, recoiling from his touch as though it’d burned them.
Levi closes his eyes for a moment, trying to pretend that what just happened didn’t hurt. He opens them back again, and this time – he tries his damndest to pretend that he doesn’t notice the hungry interest on the brats’ faces. He wants to yell at them to get lost, but their cabin is small and even if they did leave the room, he has no doubt they’d only do it to hide behind the closest wall and continue eavesdropping.
This farce has been going for way too long. Dragging a hand across his face, Levi thinks how much he misses the times when he could simply throw Hange over his shoulder and carry the blabbering fool to their room, all the while ignoring their protests.
Life was easier before indeed.
It’s getting clear, however, that he desperately needs a change of strategy. So, swallowing his irritation, Levi decides to go for a gentler approach.
“Just let’s go, Hange,” he breathes out tiredly. He pauses, then adds, in a much softer tone, “Please.”
And finally – fucking finally – Hange looks him in the eyes. They stare at him, mouth slightly open, and whatever they see in his gaze, it makes them sigh, give a weak wave to the kids and start shuffling their feet towards the bedroom.
“Show’s over,” he grunts to the brats. “Go to sleep, and if I hear even a single peep from any of you—”
“We’re dead,” the kids finish in unison.
Levi nods, pleased. At least, those shitheads don’t give him grief tonight.
He and Hange make their way to the bedroom in silence, and when they walk up to the threshold, Levi lets Hange enter first, then follows after them inside, shutting the door closed behind himself. He has no doubt that the brats would try to eavesdrop despite the obstacle, but— he’d like to have at least the illusion of privacy.
“So,” he begins cautiously, watching Hange like one would an injured, but extremely deadly specimen, “care to tell me what the fuck’s been going on with you today?”
“Nothing.” Hange answers way too quickly. Then, slower, but no more convincing, they repeat, “Nothing, I just— wanted to spend more time with kids.”
“So much so that you couldn’t spare a second to glance in my direction at least once?”
And, sure, Levi sounds petty. Childish, even. He knows that and doesn’t feel a single ounce of shame. It’s Hange he’s talking to. And they’ve seen him at a lot worse than that.
“You noticed?” Hange’s voice catches. They turn around to look at him, but just as they see him looking back, they lower their head back down. “Like I said,” they mutter, dragging their feet towards the bed and sitting down heavily on it. “It’s nothing.”
Levi sighs and moves his wheelchair over to where Hange sits, trapping them between the bed and the wall.
“Just tell me what’s wrong,” he murmurs softly, not caring if it sounds like he’s pleading. For Hange, he’s willing to do far more shameful things than simply showing his vulnerability. They’ve seen him at his worst, after all. Seen, and still stuck by his side. “I just wanna know where I messed up.”
“What?” Hange’s eye widens, glinting in the darkness of the bedroom. “You did nothing wrong, Levi. Why would you even think that?”
Levi starts counting on his fingers. “You’ve been avoiding me. The brats have been pestering me about it all evening. And even now,” his voice tightens – not out of anger, but out of despair. “You can’t look at me directly.”
Hange immediately tries to, glancing at him beneath their lashes.
“I’m sorry,” they whisper. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I was just— I was just being stupid.”
“Why?” Levi asks, his tone as gentle as he’s capable of. “Because of what Gabi said?”
Levi can see that – Hange wants to deny it. They even open their mouth to do so, but just as quickly, they close it back again, hanging their head, as though in shame.
“Yeah,” they say defeatedly. “Because of that.”
“Care to explain why?”
“No,” Hange’s answer is decisive. “I’m sorry, Levi, but no. That’s— that’s personal.”
“Personal?” Levi wants to laugh. Since when neither of them is allowed to have that? “Hange, you helped me wipe my ass when I was injured.”
“That’s different.”
“Different how?”
“It’s about… what I, hm, feel.”
“Okay,” Levi says slowly, not understanding what the issue is at all. “And what do you, hm, feel?”
He hopes to get a chuckle out of Hange, at the very least, a fleeing smile. But Hange does not react at all. They are still as a statue, staring resolutely at the window, and seemingly not even breathing.
Except, Levi notices even in the dark, except for their hands. Resting on their lap, they tremble slightly.
Hange goes to hide them, as soon as they catch Levi looking, but he moves faster, laying his hand over theirs.
With his other, he reaches out and flicks on the lamp on the bedside table, sick of trying to distinguish Hange’s features in the dark.
He leans slightly forward then, peering into their face, now that he can see it clearly.
“Hange, just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“No,” Hange shakes their head. “No, Levi, don’t even ask me to do that. It’d ruin everything, and you will hate me for it. Or pity me, or both, and I—” they sniffle, and Levi’s chest tightens. “And I can’t have that.”
“Four-eyes,” Levi says, his tone firm. “You could kill a kid, and my first question would probably be, what did the runt do to you. I’m serious, there is nothing – nothing – that’d make me hate you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes,” he gives their hands a gentle squeeze. “I do.”
“Okay, okay,” Hange takes a deep breath, as if bracing themself. “You wanna hear it? Fine. I love you. I love you, Levi. There. Happy?”
They stare him straight in the eyes, their gaze defiant and lips tightly pressed together. And, Levi realizes, they’re waiting for his reaction.
But for a moment, he can only look back at them in mute confusion. That’s it? That’s what’s been bothering them so damn much? Levi has to admit, that feels a bit… anticlimactic.
“I hate to break it to you, four-eyes, but” he begins, fighting to keep his voice level. Anticlimactic to him personally or not, but it brought Hange close to tears. Evidently, now, is not the time for his trademark sarcasm. So, as gently as he can, he tells them, “it’s not exactly a secret.”
“What?”
“I can’t believe that’s what you’ve been worrying so much about,” he continues, some levity returning to his voice as a sense of relief washes over him. He can’t believe he was worrying so much about it. “You know I feel the same.”
But Hange doesn’t confirm it right away, doesn’t react to it at all, so he clarifies,
“You do know that, right?”
“No, Levi, you don’t understand. It’s not—” Hange pulls their hands away from his, giving him a sorrowful smile. “It’s not like that.”
Levi frowns in confusion. “And what that’s supposed to mean?”
Hange bites at their lip, clearly debating if they should answer that. Releasing a heavy sigh, they do.
“I love you… more than just a friend. It’s like Gabi said,” they run a shaky hand over their hair. “I love you like… like a life partner.”
“Okay… and?”
“And?” Hange cries out. “Do you still not understand? I have feelings for you. Levi. Romantic ones, if you want me to be that exact.”
Levi bites his tongue to not say okay again. He doesn’t want Hange to storm out. They look awfully close to doing just that as it is.
He takes a deep breath and tries to organize his thoughts, searching for the right words. He knows he has to say something, something that would both calm Hange down and reassure them. But for the life of him he doesn’t see what their issue is.
Perhaps, admitting to it would be a nice start, he decides.
“You’re right,” Levi says. “I don’t understand. Do you like—” he pauses, cringing at what he’s about to say, “want to kiss and stuff?”
“Kiss and stuff?” Hange throws their hands in the air, their outrage almost palpable. “Gods, Levi, just— just forget I’ve said anything.”
“No.” Levi says sternly. “Like hell I’ll do that. If it’s bothering you, then it’s bothering me. Just tell me what you want to do, and we’ll do it. If you want us to kiss, then—”
“Stop it.” Hange sounds crestfallen. “Just stop it, Levi. I don’t want it like that. I don’t want you to force yourself just because you don’t want to hurt my feeling or you think I’ll leave or—”
Levi’s heart drops to his stomach.
“Are you,” he asks in a broken whisper, “going to leave?”
“I don’t know,” Hange says honestly. “But I doubt that you… that you’d want to see me after that.”
Suddenly, Levi feels like breaking something. Four-eyes— four-eyes can be so damn infuriating sometimes.
“What the fuck?” he hisses. “What the fuck are you even talking about, Hange? Why would I ever want you to leave?”
Hange gives him a tired smile, their gaze softening.
“I know we have it good,” they murmur. “Living together is easy and comfortable—”
Easy? Comfortable? Each word feels like a slap to his face. Levi cuts them off before they spill even more bullshit.
“Is that what you think of me? That I stick by just because I’m what— too much of a cripple to survive on my own?”
“What?” Hange’s eye widens in horror. “No, no, that’s not what I meant!”
“And yet it was implied,” Levi retorts harshly. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself down, and tries to understand just how they got here. But even as his voice levels down, bitterness still slips through. “I’ve survived on my own since I was five, Hange. I can do it just fine now as well. I don’t understand what’s got into you, but it’s not loneliness that scares me. It’s living without you.”
“What?” Hange breathes out, barely audible.
“I thought we were on the same page here, but since it somehow went way over your giant, genius head, shut up for once and listen.” Levi grabs a hold of their hand again, holding it tightly in his own. Gently, he starts to draw small circles over their knuckles, not breaking eye contact with Hange, as he says, “You’re not just a friend to me either, Hange. Not just a comrade or whatever who just happened to survive the longest. I… well, I don’t really know how to explain it properly, but… you’re my person. You’re—” with the hand not holding Hange’s, he cups their cheek, lifting their face closer to his, “you’re my other half, four-eyes.”
“Levi…” Hange whispers, subconsciously nuzzling into his palm.
“And, I admit, I really haven’t thought about kissing you for a long, long time, but—”
“What?” Hange’s tone is cautious, but with feeble beginnings of hope brimming through. “Are you saying… you have thought about it?”
“I’m saying,” he lightly pinches their cheek, causing Hange to let out the softest, cutest yelp, “that I didn’t know it was on the table.”
“What?” Hange asks again, and Levi has to call on all of his willpower to resist calling them a parrot. That would surely ruin all the mood they’ve just started getting into. They pull away from him slightly, studying his face closely, as if searching for a sign of deception. Levi allows none to be reflected on his face. “Just what are you saying, Levi? Explain it to me.”
Levi heaves a deep sigh, but obliges.
“I’m saying that we’ve known each other for a long ass time, four-eyes. It’d honestly be weirder if I haven’t thought about it at least once. But, like I said, we’ve known each other for a long time, and not once you hinted that you want something more. So… I just stopped thinking about it.”
“You…” Hange begins slowly, looking at Levi incredulously. “You just stopped thinking about it. Just like that?”
Levi shrugs. “We were always busy. And, I’m good at compartmentalizing.”
Hange shakes their head with a hoarse chuckle. “You are ridiculous.”
“And you’re even worse. So. Will you kiss me now?”
A smile vanishes from Hange’s face.
“Now?” they ask cautiously, uncertainty transparent in every syllable. “You want to do this now?”
“Why not?” Levi shoots back. “Are you drunk?”
“Not really.”
“Okay. Then, yeah, I want to do this now.”
Hange squints a little, studying his face closely. “It’s that easy for you?”
“Of course,” Levi agrees readily, and moves a little closer. “It’s you.”
Hange still looks doubtful.
“It’s a big change for our relationship, Levi,” they say slowly, as if making sure Levi hears – and understands – every word. “Are you really sure?”
“It’s you,” he repeats again.
Looking down, Hange nods to themself, apparently coming to some sort of a decision.
“Okay,” they say after a minute. “Okay. Let’s do it then.”
And Levi just can’t help himself anymore.
“You look like you’re about to shit themself,” he tells them bluntly.
Cheeks reddening, Hange sends his way a seething glare that melts down, however, as soon as Levi takes their face between his palms.
They gulp, following his every movement. Levi gives them a reassuring look and moves one of his hands higher, reaching to the clasp of their eyepatch.
“That okay?” he asks before he undoes it.
Wordlessly, Hange nods, and Levi carefully takes the eyepatch off, rubbing his thumb gently over the skin at the corner of their injured eye.
“Just so you know,” Hange murmurs. “It’s been a while since I’ve done it.”
“Let me guess,” a smirk appears on Levi’s lips. “Ten years, give or take?”
Hange nods, and Levi’s smirk melts down into a small, but soft smile.
“Same here,” he promises to them.
Hange nods again, accepting his answer, and closes their eyes. Slowly, Levi starts to shorten the distance between them, imprinting in his mind every new sensation.
Hange’s skin beneath his fingers feels rough, especially tight in places where the fire got to them. It’s incredibly warm too, but that, he knows, has nothing to do with their injuries. Hange just naturally runs hot. Their breath comes out softly, gently caressing his own skin, filling his nostrils with a faint smell of sweet wine. Their eyelashes, which appear even lasher in such close proximity, slightly flutter.
Levi takes a moment – not a second longer, not wanting Hange to start second-guessing themself again – to admire them.
He always found them attractive, no matter how many times he told them otherwise, calling them all sorts of names, but in this moment – Hange is absolutely breathtaking. Beautiful in a way Levi is sure he’s never seen before.
He can’t believe his luck that it’s him they wish to share this moment with.
At last, he presses his mouth to theirs.
It’s chaste at first, merely a soft touch, but as soon as Levi feels Hange relaxing into it, he licks at their lips and slightly tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Their tongues touch, and it’s like an electric current went through his entire body. His grip on their cheeks tightens, and in response, Hange wraps a hand around his neck, pulling him even closer.
The frames of their glasses dig almost painfully into his cheek, but Levi cares not for it, chasing after each sensation like a man starved.
They’re both horribly out of practice: their noses collide constantly and there is definitely way too much saliva involved, but when, suddenly, Levi manages to something right – he’d have to find out what exactly later, his brain is too empty to really think about it at the moment – and Hange lets out a soft, needy moan, Levi feels like the happiest man alive.
Both of them are equally out of breath and panting, when they find the strength to break apart. Hange’s hair is tousled from how often Levi ran his fingers through it, their cheeks adopt a pretty, rosy color, and their lips look plusher than before, already slightly swollen, and, realizing that he’s the one who did it to them, Levi feels a surge of pride so sudden and forceful he gets dizzy with it.
Smiling faintly, seemingly just as out of it as Levi, Hange pushes a lock of hair behind their ear.
“Good?” they ask, still catching their breath.
“Of course,” Levi nods, leaving in to steal a kiss from the corner of their mouth. Now that he got a taste of Hange, he can’t get enough of it. Not after just one kiss, surely. “It’s you.”
Hange groans overdramatically, hiding their face behind their hands.
“I had no idea you were that smooth,” they whine, peering out at Levi in between their fingers. “How am I supposed to live with this knowledge now?”
“Get used to it,” Levi retorts bluntly.
He grabs one of Hange’s hand in his and lifts it to his lips, leaving a kiss on their knuckles. He doesn’t let go of them after that, intertwining their fingers. They slot together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle.
And this— this feels nice, Levi decides. He can’t believe he never thought of trying it before.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Hange admonishes softly, a gentle smile playing on their lips.
“It can get worse,” Levi warns them seriously. “Like the brats kept reminding me all day – there is just one bed here.”
At that, Hange turns beet red. They open and close their mouth a few times, gawking at him like a fish fresh out of the water.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the kids are a terrible influence on you.”
Levi wants to argue with that – for the first time in his life, most probably, but then Hange tugs on his hand, pulling him out of the wheelchair and into the bed, right into the circle of their arms, and just as Levi finds his words, his mouth gets occupied with something far more thrilling than bickering about brats.
And as they lay in bed together, much closer than they used to, and trade soft, lazy kisses in the dark, Levi has to admit that Armin was right.
There indeed is always room for improvement. Especially if that room contains just one bed.