Summary: In which Levi tries to "make friends" with the photogenic, wayward college kid riding the same hour subway. Modeling-Scout!Levi and Punk-to-Model!Eren.

Warning: Levi's potty language and humor.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin.

Notes: Let's see how I roll with this~


Chapter 1: Head Shot


9:32 AM

The sun was rising, the birds were singing, and Levi was seething.

The world hates him, he swears from his driver's seat.

Here he was, on his way to work in the middle of what seemed to be a neverending long-ass week, and his car just up and decided to break down in his goddamn driveway. He really should buy a new one, but damn if he wasn't painfully practical.

The engine had sputtered one gasping, dying breath, and wouldn't start no matter how he coaxed it.

And by coaxing, he meant glaring at the steering wheel that greatly offended him and repeatedly kicking the front wheel until he very damn well near injured himself.


That dent he left on the bumper was counterproductive but worth it, he'd say.

It just had to happen right on the day the branches were meeting at Recon Modeling Agency.

Recon was always in search for fresh blood. They were a top-notch modeling agency famous for their high-quality models, whether it be in TV, magazines, or billboards - Recon was featured everywhere. Their models vary from commercial and editorial, to avant-garde runway, and to whatever other fuck there is out there. Name it, and Recon's got it.

Whatever they currently don't, Levi-the senior scouting agent-would get. And as the best agent of Recon, he was tasked to scour hell and beyond to find the perfect face that will represent their new campaign: Inhuman.

And he would have more than likely already done so had his car not thrown a fucking hissy fit.

Luckily for him, Erwin, his childhood friend and boss, understood his predicament. He was told not to bother going to work until his problem was taken care of.

Levi fondly thought of how considerate it was of him.

(Erwin proudly thought of how he just averted having a rampaging diva of a midget in his office.)

Levi had tried to fix his car himself, but he knew jack shit about engines.

So he called reinforcements.

Therein lies the issue of the mechanic he took his car to.

Or rather, the friend he rang to "drop whatever the fuck you're doing and come over."

She came bouncing on her heels.

"Ohoho, long time no see, Levi! I haven't seen you in forever! How ya doin'?" She moved in for a hug that Levi expertly deflected. Who knows where those hands have been.

"...Shitty glasses."

As he had aptly christened her, she was undeniably as shitty as his broken piece of vehicle.

And yet, perhaps, he'd acquiesce that she was one of the few he could actually trust said vehicle with.

Now, Hange wan't a professional mechanic. If anything, it was a (safe and non-harmful, thank god) hobby of hers that she picked up quite well, unlike most of the (freaky, dangerous, not-entirely-legal) shits she occupy her time with. She had always liked working with gears, and the whirrs and rumbles of engines delighted her.

Her day job, though, was as a psychologist, so any and all visits from Hange was to be regarded with caution. She liked working with people, freaks in one way or another, especially the really socially awkward ones-which so uncoincidentally were her group of friends since college.

She would call Levi an introvertedly anti-social workaholic.

He would call her an impending danger to his mental health.

He really did not want to catch her lunacy, but Hange had wormed her way into his life and home so much that he had begun to feel dependant on her. Only a handful few had tried to get to know Levi from the outside-in. Of those, most were disappointed by what they found. Hange, evidently, was not one among the rest.

Thus was why she's his best friend, even if he'd rather eat shit than admit it.

"Now let me see how you've harassed this beauty!"

Figured she'd find his cheap shit pretty.

Without further encouragement, she pounced on his admittedly beat-up car like the deranged woman she was known to be. She circled the exterior once before propping the hood up and doing a quick observation. With her hair in a messy updo, her shirt was soon stained with black oil as she used it like a damn rag after poking around the engine. She reached up to rub her nose and accidentally smeared some grease unto her face. She didn't even notice.

But Levi did.

He most certainly did with a cringe.

Had Levi not known her his entire adult life, he already would've hauled ass out of there with how filthy she was.

But alas, they had known each other since their roomie days.

So he simply settled for glaring at her appearance and vowed not to even touch her with a ten-foot-pole.

There was a perfectly good, clean reason why he tries to avoid running into Hange, and with possible social experiments and embarrassments excluded, this was why.

She adjusted her ridiculously huge goggles over her face and bent over to peer again into the hood of his car, this time armed with various tools, head nearly disappearing inside the automobile while humming and tinkering within.

"This is fine... This one's okay too! Everything seems to be in perfect order, except that dent on the bumper... Funny, that wasn't there last time either. Hmm... Hmmmm! Well I wonder if... -OH...!"

"Oh?" Levi repeated, without a hint of worry. No worries at all. He has nothing to worry about, right? I mean, not like his only preferred method of transportation in the world was compromised enough to warrant him riding something, like, say, a filthy, unsanitary bus for an undefined period of time.


"Oh," she parroted as she resurfaced. "You see, I seem to have found the source of your problem..." Trailing off, she disappeared into the kitchen connected to the garage door. Levi followed her and her disjointed thought process to make sure she doesn't upset his home. She rummaged around his refrigerator like an ill-mannered savage, stopped only in its tracks when he growled to "wash your hands first." No need though, she was already well-acquainted with him and his habits. She even knew exactly where he put last night's homecooked leftovers and had it popped in the microwave in seven seconds flat.

Such was the advantages that came out of living in the same room for four years.

They shuffled back to his garage with her bowl.

"As I was saying, Levi, so you see...- Mmm! You really do make the best dishes! I don't even know what this is, but it must be the French blood in you! Correlation between heritage and culinary skills, should probably write that down. Invite me for dinner sometime! Anyways, back to the topic, you really need to treat your car better! Do you have any idea what I found?" She waved to different parts of the engine, her fork, licked clean, used as a make-shift pointer stick. "It's... It's pretty grave, I'll tell ya."

Levi won't admit he had a slight half-second internal panic attack.

She shoveled yesterday's casserole into her barbaric mouth and there went thirty long minutes of Levi's life he's never gonna get back in a complicated explanation containing mechanical engine jargon in which he really did not care for (nor could follow-in his unclaimed embarrassment). "Buuuuut, since I'm such a good friend, I can have your car fixed in about a week or so. You know, have my magic work on it."

Somehow, there was something very ominous about that phrase...

But then again. A mechanic would cost him more than he'd like. Decisions, decisions.

Such was the life of a cheap bachelor.

Knowing him well enough to see his mental battle indicated by his eye twitches, Hange slipped behind him, her breath coming out in warm puffs against his ear, and in an enticingly seductive voice, she moaned-whispered, "...for free."

Well then, that solves it.

Mind made up, Levi walked out of his own garage and hopped into Hange's own car out front in the driver seat. She automatically followed and climbed in shotgun.

"Keys," he demanded.

"See, now, I don't get why you wouldn't let me drive," she complained while handing him her keys. "I mean, yeah we crashed into that semi one time... and then there was that time with the wilderness... and the cat incident... but other than those three, lemme tell ya Levi, I'm a great driver!"

"I know your shit, Hange. You're not driving while I'm in this car. If I could have it my way, you won't be driving ever." The smooth rev of the engine was a comfort for Levi who, at least for the moment, has evaded the public bus. Small mercies.

"You're lucky I'm such as good friend, letting you manhandle my car like this."

Levi rolled his eyes, Hange's grumbling was flippantly ignored.

"Aaaand you know, I did get that license for a reason. Don't you have any faith in the institute of our traffic regulations?" Turn right here and keep straight until the third intersection.

"You probably fucked your driver's ed instructor," he bantered. Now another right.

"Levi!" Hange sounded scandalized, but Levi's got eyes on the road so he couldn't give a damn - not that he even wants to in the first place. Almost there.

"I am not that easy! I've gotta be wined and dined first at the minimum," she huffed.

"...And I'll have you know, a simple blowjob did the trick."

Tires screeched on the asphalt as Hange cackled like a maniac and Levi frantically tried to swerve the sedan away from running over a crossing granny.

It took Levi five minutes to assure and apologize to the screaming elderly woman that no, he was not trying to kill her whilst Hange shout-whispered "blowjob!" repeatedly from the passenger seat.

Godammit, Hange.

6:34 PM

Levi let out a jaw-cracking yawn befitting of today's grand waste of time.

Without the main model for Inhuman, Levi's unit - referred to as the Special Operations Squad of Recon - couldn't really function. Management wanted them to present a duo, one male and one female. Thus far, they've only gotten a hold of half of the new face of Inhuman: Annie Leonhart - a literal hold that nearly cost Gunter his right arm.

According to Petra, Gunter had spotted Annie on her morning jog back to ther apartment. It was in broad daylight so Gunter didn't think twice about calling out to her, but she had earbuds and her mp3 on full blast. Feeling as if he shouldn't let this chance slip away, he pursued Annie in a run that made the shorter woman jog all the more. With Gunter's longer legs, he caught up to Annie, but when he opened his mouth to tell her he didn't mean any harm, just as murderers do in slasher movies, he promptly found himself flipped with his front to the pavement, his arm twisted behind him, and a knee digging in his back.

Beautiful and dangerous.

Perfect for Inhuman.

Levi approved of her, though she was skeptical of the whole thing - weren't models supposed to be taller than 5 feet? Yes, usually. But then again, Recon doesn't function like the other agencies.

That had been three weeks ago.

The search for her male counterpart, however, presented itself with annoying difficulty.

"Captain Levi," Petra knocked on his office door, the title being a running gag in his office. "Your 6:30 is here. Please try not to terrorize this one," she giggled.

Levi rolled his eyes and dismissed her with a nod. "Let him in," he said, but he wasn't so sure about finding his muse anymore.

Waves of applicants had presented their resumes, but Levi had been unimpressed. They were your typical male models. Conveniently good-looking, yes, but Levi couldn't help feel as if they were missing something. He knew it in his guts. It bothered him enough that he sent everyone he had interviewed home without another thought.

A man entered with a wave.

Looks early twenties, although paper says he's already 26. Height's around 6'2. Blond, brown-eyed. Well-defined jaws. Sun-kissed skin, so a tanner then. Approvable physique. Nothing else of significance.

"Hello," he regarded the resume with a glance. "...Thomas Wagner. Call me Levi. Tell me more about yourself."

Wagner nodded timidly and began.

Bullshit protocol.

In the first few seconds that Levi mechanically scanned him over, his grey eyes already knew this guy wasn't the one-just like the guy before him wasn't either.

It wasn't that they weren't good enough. They were.

He knew their rival agency, Sina Brigade, would be glad to have them.

Unfortunately, at the end of the day, they just weren't up to Levi's unjustifiably high standards.

Levi deemed two minutes enough and cut in.

"...That's very interesting, Mr. Wagner." Liar. He didn't listen at all. "We may contact you in the near future. Please see Petra out front for more information."

With a handshake, Wagner was out of his office and Levi sat back down to rub at the bridge of his nose.

How generic and simple.

Levi doesn't want generic and simple.

Annie was all pale skin, blonde hair, and had the harsh Russian winters in her eyes. Her prospective partner's got to balance with what she brings to the table. Someone with enough fire to accomodate her ice.

"Captain Levi? Your 7:00 is here."

"Thank you, Petra. Please send him in."

Levi's got to thinking about what type of fire can possibly withstand the frozen tundra.

9:37 PM

Work had distracted him enough to forget about his unavailable car, and of all times, Hange wouldn't pick up her phone. He had told his team to go home hours before and he was now the only one left in the building.

Levi was shit out of luck.

He had no choice but to use public transportation, stash a can of Lysol in his briefcase, and desperately hope for the best.

A taxi was out of the question. He splurges on cleaning products, not overpriced fares. Besides, he doesn't trust the sanitation of those seats.

But he didn't wind up riding a filthy, unsanitary bus like he had feared.

It was worse.

It was the fucking subway.

An overcrowded, smelly, filthy train car filled with even filthier people he has no desire to be in the immediate vicinity of.

Apparently, the bus network doesn't function past nine in Karanese District, an information he need not bother knowing with the safety of his own car in mind.

Levi tightened his grip on the pole next to the doors (not that he has any other choice since he can't reach the overhead railings, fuck it all). The only barrier between his skin and this germ infested metal handle was his handkerchief.

He happened to have a moderate attachment to his handkerchief.

He frowned even more.

Pity that now he'll have to burn it. Who knew what disgusting diseases unwashed hands have left on this thing?

He shifted his weight from one hip to another, careful not to initiate any type of contact, however brief it may be, with anyone adjacent.

He doesn't even want to touch people, so like hell he'd even think about sitting his Armani-clad ass on any of these questionable seats.

Besides, it was a difficult task to maintain an intimidating composure when his legs wouldn't even touch the fucking floor.

He'd rather stand, thank you very much.

People with their dubious hygiene make him squeamish.

So of course it was right in that moment that a young child to his immediate left let out a loud, uncovered sneeze.


Levi swore he saw snot and debris fly out of that shithead's orifices in graphically disturbing slow motion.

His only saving grace was that he was not standing in the line of germ-y fire.

It took a considerable amount of self-control to not pull out his ever handy travel-sized Lysol and start disinfecting everywhere.

Forget about breathing. Levi would rather suffocate than inhale contaminated air.

"Arriving at Stohess Station."

Leaving the handkerchief behind, (you've served your purpose well, cloth) Levi gathered his briefcase in one hand and his dignity in another whilst trying not to sprint out of the nasty subway. His cursed, short legs could not have moved any faster than a man running to the nearest restroom to take a massive, uncontrollable shit.

"Sorry 'bout that."

Somewhere to his right, a stray limb accidentally elbowed him on his way out, enough to make him turn his head and meet green-blue eyes.

In Levi's haste, he only looked enough for a quick scan. It was a lanky, yet well-built boy with a disheveled mop of brown hair. The boy's (green? blue? Levi can't decide) eyes were almost obscured by his wild chin-length locks, and an ear glinted in the harsh flourescent lighting with its multiple piercings.

Huh. Not bad.

Must be late teens, early twenties. Height's around 5'8 to 6'1 (a quick glance at his army boots confirmed it to 5'8). Well-balanced facial features with really nice eyes - though he could lessen the frowning. Tanned but not overly so. Broad shoulders, but not too broad - has less muscles than he'd go for actually, but he can make it work. Develop a fitness routine to shape him up, perhaps? There was something wonderful to be said about molding a diamond out of the rough. And did he mention those killer eyes? Those glaring orbs alone already screamed Inhuman!

This kid already looked more promising compared to his applicants. Maybe he can work with this one... Maybe-


Fuck it.

Levi despondently turned around in self-preservation and continued on his way out, previous thought abandoned.

10:53 PM

Though maybe not as forgotten as he had thought as proven later when while taking his ritualistic hour-long shower, he thought about the teenager with the green eyes.

He found that he wasn't as bothered about the random collision as he should've been - although he hoped that that brat's elbow had better been fucking clean.

(Just to make sure, even though the contact wasn't with his bare skin, Levi scrubbed his midsection twice as vigorously as usual.)

His mind avoided the other disconcerting topic that he didn't get a name to match what he resolved was going to be the future face of Recon's Inhuman if he had any say in it.

Levi had found his muse.

It was foolishly optimistic to assume that he'll come across that boy again, but Levi wasn't an optimist. He was a realist, and at worst, a pessimist. He will find the boy with the green eyes if it was the last thing he'll do.

Exiting the bathroom, he toweled himself dry and didn't bother putting any clothes on. He lived alone anyway. Not like there was anyone to see him waltzing around with his dick on show.

Before finally collapsing on his bed, Levi did a quick mental inventory of his items, ticking them off one by one before dozing off. He's got his briefcase, his phone, his wallet-

Levi's drooping lids went wide open.

Where the fuck was his wallet?

He scrambled to his discarded clothing, checked their pockets, and peered into his briefcase in hopes that he had placed it in there.

No such luck.

"...a stray limb accidentally elbowed him on his way out..."

Well fuck me sideways.

As a former delinquent himself, he should've seen this coming.

That shitty brat.

Levi vowed to hunt his scrawny, thieving little ass down and kick the ever-loving shit out of him, pretty face or not.

9:42 PM

Eren Yeager sat down on the nearest vacant seat close to the doors. In his wandering hands was a thick, leather billfold. He located a business card and held it up high to the flourescent lights.

"Levi... Weird, no last name. Senior Scouting Agent... Reconnaissance Modeling Agency, huh?"

Eren chuckled with mirth, running the tip of a pink tongue against the sharp edge of his front teeth, his tounge piercing peeking out with a glint. Didn't he just hit the jackpot? No wonder this wallet was so fat!

Further snooping into the wallet produced a driver's license with a scowling face.

"Nice to meet ya too, Mr. Scout."

While he didn't plan to rob this Levi person, he was an oppurtunist. Levi just happened to be the one he bumped into, and his rent happened to have a due date tomorrow. The man had been in a rush, then out of nowhere, paused to stare deeply into the atmosphere. Oppurtunity presented on a platter, if you will.

Eren continued rummaging through the wallet. He needed to occupy himself in his long trip from Sina to Maria. He wasn't stupid enough to begin counting hundreds of dollars in public, but he'd always been a curious little fuck if he did say so himself. A receipt from a classy restaurant was the only thing he could find aside from the business card. Other than that, it was clean. If anything, Eren was more surprised at the fact that there was no condom in the wallet. Not that he wanted to know how much this guy was packing for his height, but who doesn't carry protection? Even Eren has one in his back pocket.

"You're just one odd duck, aren't ya."

"Levi, how's the search? Have you found anyone worth mentioning?"

He thought back to the boy with the unmitigated gall and inhuman eyes.

"Erwin, you have no fucking idea."

Author's Notes: Yes-my Punk!Eren has his long Titan hair and multiple ear/tounge piercings. I took Levi's Scouting Legion skills and made them into Model Scouting skills. Hope I'm not kicked out of the fandom yet, haha.

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