Warnings: Slightly sexual? I'm not sure if this should be M or T, but because nothing graphic happens, I put it on T. MxM/shonen-ai.

Notes: Yes, this is another post-expedition fic (case in point: Kingdom Come). 100% of my SnK fics are about angsty pseudo-sexual EreRi. I refuse to apologize. ƪ(‾ε‾")ʃ

The wings fall off from humanity's strongest, soundlessly settling on the wooden floor of his doorstep.

He should've kept the rest of them, he knows. Well, the titans were hot on their tail like mares in heat, so it's not as if he had a second to spare. What a waste of perfectly good capes.

What, anyway, is the use of broken wings from fallen things?

The gear and belts come off and are carefully replaced in a bare closet. Then, perfunctory fingers unbutton the shirt, leaving it to lie crumpled beside his bed. In one swift motion, both pants and boxers slide down the floor. The corporal catches his naked reflection on the thin metal frame of his bathroom door.

Levi is the same. He should be. He's seen that before, slightly deflated corpses and sightless flat eyes littering the bloody, cobbled pavements. The eight year-old Levi wasn't able to find a hellhole small enough to shut them out, no more could the adult Levi now. He's been this before, a captain with all the wrong choices, a captain who sends comrades to their deaths with his commands.

He's still exactly Levi, after everything has fallen away.

His eyes close as hot jets of water assault his face, forcing the tight muscles to relax. After anything from a minute to an hour, he comes to and stares down at his dripping body. The ashes and blood are stuck to his skin, much to Levi's annoyance. He picks up the stone and hard soap, scrubbing and scrubbing until every last bit of filth is flushed down the drain but why does his skin remain a little bit black, a little bit dirty? Harder and harder, until new blood replaces what has been washed away. Levi's skin is raw but still unclean. His ankle is killing him so he shifts his weight even more onto it.

He turns the shower off and stands at the open bathroom doorway, letting the cold wind from the open window dry him on its own.

If he looks out the 5-storey window, Petra would be perched on a tree branch, smiling at him in the dark. "Come," she would say. "We've lead the way for you this time, heichou."

The strongest thing Levi has in him is his survival instinct. He has brought it with him from the womb to the underworld to the forests beyond the walls. So he would have to say no to Petra. But Levi is not sure he would still say no the next time. After all, he's not sure what he's saying "no" for.


To his credit, Eren's eyes do not, even for a second, flit down to the nude body and exposed cock in front of him. Levi can't claim the same as he approaches the stark naked boy sitting on his bed.

"Are you clean now?" Eren asks, voice trembling as Levi tips his back to the bed, climbing over him. His usually eager eyes are patient as Levi's hands go over the plane of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen, the inside of his thighs, the length of his cock.

"Not yet," Levi whispers, looking at his parted lips. His eyes flicker up to meet Eren's. "Go as hard as you can."

The silence of a hundred corpses is still on his fingertips, but so is the strength of Eren's heartbeat. There is nothing left but Eren, who is a hundred years older than he was the other day, but still alive. Eren, who watched Gunther, Eld, Oluo and Petra die.

You're fucking up big time, little shit, Levi curses himself. Stop.

But Levi's mouth is fucking with Eren's mouth and it's not stopping anytime soon.

Hypothermia itself isn't painful, but slowly warming up again sure fucking is. Because it hurts, Levi holds on even tighter, so tight that he's not sure where Eren's skin ends and his begins.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.