Levi is a professional, damn it.

He doesn't grunt or protest when this guy grabs his hips and forces him facedown over the table, because he's a fucking professional, and that's not what this guy has paid for. Instead, he whimpers, glad he's facedown so this asshole can't see his eyes roll.

He's an elderly guy this time, with that musty stink that makes Levi's nose wrinkle, and his fingers tremble slightly as they fist into his hair, giving it a hard yank back until his neck hurts.

"You should pretend to hate it, a good little boy like you," the old guy whispers, cock bumping excitedly against Levi's ass.

"I don't do that." Not for the kind of money this guy has, and Levi knows it. Doubtless he's already heard the same from Ted downstairs before he came up here. Other boys here do, but they're more expensive, because they only get used once every couple of weeks. Sometimes when Levi gets really bored, he considers signing up for that duty. At least he'd have time off. "That shit gets out of control."

He arches his back, rubbing shamelessly against the guy's wrinkled old dick, letting out a fake moan as he grimaces. "Besides, how can I pretend not to want something so nice?"


By the time the old guy leaves, Levi almost sprints out of the room, racing back to the dorms to dunk a washcloth in the basin and wipe off fast, squeezing it out between each part of his rubdown, barely wincing when he runs it too hard over bruised-up flesh on his thighs. He scrubs harder over the sticky patch of precum on the back of one thigh.

At least the geezer hadn't been able to get it up long enough to shove it in. He definitely doesn't have time for a proper shit between clients.

Lucas, one bed over, shakes his head. "He might not even show up."

Lucas is a fucking idiot. He always shows up when he says he will. "Just because you can't keep 'em coming back doesn't mean we all have beef jerky for private parts."

Lucas tosses a cup at him. Levi dodges, and it shatters on the wall behind him.

"Fucking asshole! You could have caught that!"

"You've sucked enough dicks today, buy a new cup." Levi takes a second to run his comb through the water and deal with his hair. No use looking like he's been through the mill, even if he has.

The door opens, and Ted glares at both of them. "You're over a fucking client room. If you want to act like children I'll fucking sell you like children."

Rumor says Ted used to have kids. Levi doesn't trust rumors, but he doesn't trust Ted, either.

"Levi, room 8."

Levi doesn't ask who it is. Ted isn't so much of an asshole that he'd risk pissing off someone important just to teach Levi a lesson in manners by giving the guy a different whore.

There are three kinds of signs Ted hangs on the doors of customer rooms, color-coded because most of the whores can't read. White means the room is empty. Red means the customer's paid for a certain amount of time, and Ted stencils in the end of their appointment, knocking and coming in if it's exceeded. Blue means the customer has a tab running, and no one's going to be knocking.

For the first time with this guy, the door has a blue sign, and Levi tries not to be somehow flattered.

The man goes by the name of Erwin, and has since their second meeting, though Levi is pretty sure it's a fake name. Even if he says he doesn't have a schedule or a preference, he's showed up at the same time three weeks in a row, and this makes the fourth. Levi isn't surprised to see him sitting in his chair and drinking, but he's not bored, either.

Should be bored. Bored is safe. Bored means you don't give a shit.

It's hard to be bored when Erwin looks at him with eager delight in his expressive eyes, and crooks a gentle finger. "Glad you could make it, Eli," he says, as if Levi spends his time doing anything other than waiting for dicks to shoot cum into his ass.

"Yeah, I took time out of my busy schedule. You want the usual, or are you ordering off the menu?"

The man's eyes are amused, in good humor, but there's something else underneath it if Levi's not wrong. "Would you mind having a drink with me first?"

It's not an unusual request, but it's not normal from this guy. "Usually," he drawls, flopping into the other chair and letting Erwin pour him a drink, "the only guys who do that are the ones who need time to get it up. Or the ones who want the boyfriend experience."

"Boyfriend experience?"

Levi is 100% sure that this guy knows exactly what he's talking about, and for some reason, wants to hear it anyway. He leans forward, taking a small sip of his whiskey and not bothering to hide the grimace at the taste. "You want that? I come in, sit on your lap, hi honey, how was your day, did you rip off a titan's dick, I missed you sooooo much. Want me to cuddle with you all night? Great low rate."

Erwin finishes his drink, and pours another. "They don't have dicks. You know that."

"Not as well as you do." There's a challenge in Levi's voice. That hunger, that desire to know more...it's too strong. It's going to make him do something stupid, he's sure.

"I have the feeling most men don't ask you for the boyfriend experience."

"I guess they don't like the way I do it," Levi deadpans. "What now, you wanna ask me what went wrong in my life that I wound up here?"

Erwin looks at him, long and piercing, before setting down his drink. "Not particularly. I'm not here looking to save anyone."

Levi's shoulders unclench, and it startles him to realize how close he'd been to throwing a punch. He gets that kind, sometimes, guys who want to be his white knight and take him "away from all of this," though they're never all that clear about where he's going after that. Usually to their beds for free. Some trade. "You just seem like the type," he mutters, although Erwin doesn't. He doesn't seem sentimental or delusional, nothing like the guys that have held him too-tight and whispered empty words while cum cooled on his skin.

Erwin hesitates, then reaches for his drink again. "Tell me how you ended up here. Not because I'm trying to save you," he says firmly, "but because it doesn't make sense to me. You've got the worst temperament of anyone I've ever met, I don't see you working with people unless you have to."

"'Working with people,' huh?" Levi asks, amused enough at his word choice to give in. He leans back, propping up his feet on the guy's thigh under the table. There's so much firm bulk of muscle there, he wonders if Erwin even feels his heels. "Few years ago. Every fucking thug is a whore if they're hungry enough, so I'd been doing it on the side since I was, fuck, I don't know. Always."

He pauses for a moment, rolling the glass between his hands. He expects Erwin to interrupt, and that'll be the end of the story, but he doesn't.


"I had friends. A gang, whatever. Got our hands on some bootleg 3DMG from the unicorns. We were planning a big job Above, got stabbed in the back by some shit-eating fucker who ratted us out for the cash. I got away."

The whiskey doesn't quite take away the bitterness in his mouth, even after Erwin refills his glass. "Ted's always been after me to get in here. Once all my friends were dead it sounded like a better gig."

The man's thick brows furrow. "You didn't make that up. Why would you tell me the truth?"

Levi shrugs. "Why shouldn't I, if I feel like it?"

"You won't tell me your real name, but you'll tell me your life story?"

"That's just shit that happened to some dead thugs. My name's mine. Tell me something about you if you want to know it so bad."

The man takes another drink, then stoppers up the bottle. "I never said I wanted to know."

Levi fucking hates this guy. "Whatever. It's your own money you're wasting with this pointless fucking conversation."

"I'm beginning to think you don't like spending time with me."

"What do you fucking want me to—"

"Come sit on my lap."

At least that's something he can do. Levi stands, but the man holds up a hand, alcohol or some excitement flushing his cheeks just slightly. "Take off your clothes first."

There isn't all that much to take off. Levi's never been the best at stripping all slow and sexy, so he doesn't bother to wear layers like some of the other whores. He watches the man's eyes track immediately to the bruises on his thighs, watches his jaw firm slightly, but he doesn't say anything.

The material of the dark blue suit he's wearing is just as fine as his usual black, and goes better with his eyes. Levi watches the man for clues as to how to sit-on one knee? Straddling both? Sideways like a little fucking kid?

The man parts his legs, so Levi takes that as a cue to slide sideways between them, sitting on one thigh and letting his feet dangle. "Fuck you for being so tall," he mutters.

"I'm surprised you don't need to lean on me to keep your balance."

"I have good balance. Oh, sorry," Levi drawls and collapses slowly onto the man's chest. "Thank you for saving me," he says very seriously, staring up at him. "My fucking tax dollars well spent."

"Do most of your customers tell you you have a terrible personality?"

"Most of them pay me for it," Levi answers honestly. "Apparently, I'm a refreshing change."

Even if he doesn't want to give this asshole the satisfaction, he can't quite help the way his hands come up to trace over that muscular chest, down to the abdomen, up again, one finger finding a nipple through the fine-spun shirt and giving it a tweak.

He doesn't quite expect a strong arm to suddenly crush him closer, and it takes a second before he stops tensing like a startled cat.

"Sorry," the man murmurs, and Levi feels the words as much as hears them, pressed up against his chest. "You startled me."

"I wanna see your scars," Levi says, changing the subject. "Take off your shirt."

The man doesn't call him out on being a bossy brat, as Levi's expecting. Of course not. Why would he choose now to do something that makes sense?

Instead, he takes off his coat, his weird skinny tie, and unfastens his shirt properly, one button at a time, before letting it hang loose from his shoulders.

That's enough, and Levi's hands trace across the marks of the straps, the few but impressive scars he can see, and on a whim, he lowers his mouth, lips and tongue tracing those same lines.

"You have a fetish for scars?"

"Just yours." The words come out on accident, and Levi pulls back slightly, frowning. "I—"

The man puts a finger against his lips. "Don't take it back," he says softly. "Keep going."

I wasn't going to take it back.

Levi tries to think about what the different scars might be from. Most of them look like they've been made by rope burns or knives (probably swords), but there are a couple exceptions. One is a long curling mark up his side, ending just under the left nipple. "Tell me what this one's from."

"You don't want to guess?"

Levi glares at him. "It was infected. I know what that looks like, and this was bad. So you and your Scouting Legion buddies were—"

"Why do you think I'm in the Scouting—"

"Where the fuck else would you be?" Levi snaps. "You've got the gear marks, and you're obviously fucking rich enough that you don't have to be part of the brass to get a square meal, so you're probably pretty fucking good, and none of the unicorns ever do anything dangerous enough to get scars like this. And if you were in the fucking garrison, you would've gotten a doctor when part of you got sliced open."

The man stares down at him, and Levi wishes he were a little more readable. He can't tell anything from those intense blue eyes.

Then slowly, the man reaches down to close a hand over Levi's, and guides it back to the scar. "Five years ago, I was on a mission outside Wall Maria," he says quietly, "and a ten-meter class titan grabbed my cloak when we were riding through the trees. I killed it, but it whipped me back against a jagged tree branch, and the fibers from my shirt got stuck into the gash. That's why it got infected, or at least that's what the doctor said."

"So you deserved it for being slow."

Blue eyes glint, and Levi wonders how many of this man's friends had died that day. "I always thought so."

On an impulse, Levi bends down, brushing his lips over the top edge of the jagged scar. "Be faster next time." Shit, his voice sounds too gentle, that's embarrassing.

In a second, those strong arms crush him again, and Levi finds himself suddenly on the bed, Erwin following only after a brief pause to take off his trousers. He doesn't usually like being pinned down by a man's bulk, but the solid weight of this man feels good, feels right, and he stretches out his arms around Erwin's neck to pull him down.

This is the fourth week in a row, and now he expects the kisses. They overwhelm him even so, shaking him in a way he hadn't thought something as stupid as a kiss could do.

Levi tries to remember that he doesn't like big men who throw their weight around, he doesn't like being pinned and kissed senseless, but the taste of this man's mouth is more intoxicating than the alcohol, and the warm, strong presence of him is overwhelming.

It's not the gentleness of this man's touch that's made Levi's brain spin out of control in the last few weeks. Lots of guys are gentle, because they're too weak to be different or because they're too afraid of what will happen or because they're too boring to think anything else. Erwin is gentle sometimes, but mostly he's intense, and when he's gentle, it's because he wants to be, wants to hold Levi's body as if it's something precious when he's pretty damn sure it isn't anything special.

One of the man's hands squeezes his bruised thigh, and Levi lets out a hiss, choking it off when Erwin lets go immediately. "It's fine," he mutters, and slides his hands up, ruffling his fingers through that obnoxiously perfect hair. "Keep going."

There's slight disapproval in those blue eyes. "Just because you have a high pain tolerance doesn't mean I want you to use it in bed," he says mildly, and the next brush of his fingers is feather-light, making Levi squirm.

Levi glares at him, even as his cock flushes and rises, spurred on by the gentle fingertips dragging over his inner thigh. "I'm not giving your money back just because you make me cum," he growls, and the man laughs.

"You haven't any other time, why should I expect it now?" he teases, raising an eyebrow, and Levi kind of wants to kick him.

"Then why—"

"I'm here," Erwin says firmly, cutting him off mid-sentence with a hard, sucking kiss just under one earlobe, "because it brings me pleasure. That's why I talk to you, that's why I want you to enjoy yourself, and that's why I'm going to fuck you until you scream, Eli. Because it gives me pleasure."

"Fuck," Levi mutters, wriggling against the bed, back arching at the low, decisive words. There's a casual confidence in the way this man (Erwin, whatever his real name is) holds himself, and even more in the way he holds Levi.

That confidence is intoxicating, and he melts down to the bed, letting his legs splay open, head lolling back as the man kisses his neck, his chest, down the center of his belly before the tip of a hot tongue swipes over his cock.

Levi's hips jerk up, and his cock bumps against Erwin's cheek. "Fuck," he mutters, one hand going down to fist in the man's perfect hair, determined to mess it up this time.

"Is that not allowed?"

"You think you're so fucking special," Levi groans, shifting his thighs apart wider, rubbing the head over the man's parted lips. "Lots of old fags like to suck a pretty boy's dick."

"You're not that pretty."

"You're not that old. Fuck, just suck my dick, you're the one who made it hard."

Soft lips close around the head of his cock like he has any right to ask for anything, like this man is his lover, and Levi's hands twist in his hair as he groans. A lot of that confidence isn't exactly missing from the way the man sucks him down, but it's different. There's slightly more hesitation, and the licks and gentle sucks are somewhere just shy of tentative, just enough to let Levi know that this guy doesn't spend all that much time on his knees.

He looks like he's enjoying himself, though, so Levi doesn't try to stop him. Plus, he fucking likes getting his dick sucked, and it doesn't happen nearly often enough.

Pretty soon, the guy starts pulling off to run his lips down the shaft, bringing his hand up to curl around the base, and Levi snorts. "Cocksucker's cramp already?"

"Are you too good to let me practice on you?" the man inquires calmly, for all that his face is flushed and there's a string of drool connecting his lips and Levi's cock. He leans forward, prodding at the slit in his cock with the tip of his tongue, and Levi lets out a strangled noise.

"G-go ahead, fuck—"

"I will, thank you."

The man takes his sweet time, and Levi tries to wrap his mind around his luck-that the one guy who gives a shit about sucking every part of his cock is the only customer he's had in a year with the cash to spend all night doing it. Sometimes it isn't a bad gig, to have his hand tangled in soft blond hair, getting paid to have his dick sucked by someone who seems to love what he's doing.

There's a clock on the wall, unobtrusive but a good reminder for clients who want to plan their visit to the minute. That's how Levi knows that Erwin spends ten minutes kissing, licking, and nuzzling at his cock and balls and inner thighs before he even tries taking it into his mouth again.

By that time, he's got his own hands fisted into the sheets, trying hard not to thrust up into the man's mouth, reminding himself that guys like this probably don't like being gagged on dick (even if most of them could use it every once in a while).

He's good at not using his teeth, and bad about taking in more than an inch or two, obviously trying to master his gag reflex and failing. It's kind of...cute, and Levi can't even bring himself to make fun of the other man, not when he's trying so hard, and when's the last time he ever saw anyone try like that? For him?

Finally, Erwin releases his cock with a wet slurp, letting it smack against his belly, and climbs up to cover Levi's body with his own. He slides his hands down Levi's legs to his ankles, hoisting them up to brace over his shoulders, though they barely reach and Levi's back rolls up a bit. "You have good muscle tone here," Erwin says, squeezing one thigh before sliding his hands back to cup his ass. "As good as most of the cadets we recruit, I'd say."

"Do you always squeeze your cadets' asses when you assess their muscle tone? Or am I spec-nngh!"

Even after a few straight weeks of practice and a few years of taking dick for a living, it's still a big cock. Levi's eyes roll back and his mouth falls open, toes curling and fingers twitching involuntarily as the man slides into him in one long, smooth thrust.

The sensation of being suddenly filled is startling, and a whimper catches in Levi's throat. There's not much he can do to be part of moving in this position, folded in half with his feet up around his ears, but Erwin doesn't seem to mind. He moves slow-he always moves slow until the end, filling Levi with easy, thorough motions of his hips, fucking into him with every roll of his body.

Levi hisses out a breath through his teeth in an effort not to start making more embarrassing noises. This guy makes him want to be loud, embarrassingly loud, enough that he wishes he could spread his legs wider just to take it better.

His eyes are watering, and he blinks them rapidly, squeezing them shut. He knows Erwin sees, always stares at him when they fuck, but at least the bastard doesn't ask if he's okay. That would be too humiliating to even bear thinking about. Instead of letting him, Levi wriggles down as much as he can, silently pushing up, letting out a yelp when the man's thick cock strikes him just right.

"Fuck," he chokes out, and as if that's the starting pistol, everything goes wild.

Erwin's hands drop from caressing him to brace on the bed, bearing his weight to give him more leverage. Levi wrenches his legs to the sides, welcoming the demanding weight of the man between them, wrapping them as far around his waist as he can even though his thighs tremble and ache after less than a minute.

He tilts his head up at the same time as the man leans down, and the kiss is brutal, hungry, searing for both of them, Levi's hands coming up to rake down his back, Erwin's hips thrusting harder and harder as Levi urges him on, deeper, more.

It isn't professional, and he's never done it with another client, but Levi knows by now that this man doesn't care and doesn't mind. When he strikes Levi just right and stars burst behind his eyes, he doesn't try to hold back, letting the shiver start in his abdomen and ripple through his whole body, leaving him a twitching, shuddering mess as he spills hot and wet and everywhere between them, and shit, has he ever come that much in his life?

He can hear his own heartbeat like a bass drum, or maybe that's Erwin's, because once they're not making the effort to kiss, Levi's head winds up snug against the other man's chest.

He can tell himself that it's good business, but there's nothing professional about the way he clings to the man through his orgasm, nails digging in to the broad warm back when he feels Erwin flood his ass, and shit, he always comes a lot and it's always gross later, but in the moment he can't help but love it.

The man takes maybe ten seconds to catch his breath before he shifts down, grabbing Levi's face in both hands and kissing him as if it's the last time, kissing him so hard it's like he's been waiting for it, craving it, cherishing it, and Levi can't do anything but hold on for dear life.

When he pulls away, Levi buries his face into the man's chest, inhaling deeply. No one smells better than this asshole. No one. He's always clean and crisp and effortlessly masculine, as light a touch where it counts as everything else about him, and Levi finds himself rather unwilling to let him go. "You're running up a big tab," he mutters eventually, reluctantly.

"You're worth it."

Levi scowls against his chest, but doesn't push him away. "You're a fucking shithead. Ted doesn't deserve your money."

"You get a cut, right?"

"Half. But room and board and laundry are comped, so really it's more. If it wasn't a good deal, I wouldn't stay."

Erwin draws in a breath as if he's about to speak, and Levi's heart thuds. Don't do it. Don't ask me to leave and come with you, don't fuck this up.

He lets out the breath, and relaxes down to the bed. "Can I sleep here? Or am I squashing you?"

"Yes. Yes."


"You can sleep here. And you're squashing me."

Erwin laughs, low and genuine and warm, and Levi thinks for a minute that he wouldn't always feel so tired if he could hear that laugh every day.

He's going to say something else, but the man's rhythmic breathing and soothing hands make short work of that idea, and he doesn't even blink until the clock makes most of a full rotation.

Someone pounds on the door, startling them from sleep, and both men stiffen, eyes darting around for clothing. "Go the fuck away," Levi snarls at the door. "He's paid for—"

The door opens, and Levi's halfway through wriggling out from under the man to launch himself fist-first at his manager when he sees a uniform and stops dead.

"Sorry, Captain Erwin," the man says, running forward and grabbing Erwin's clothes, kicking the door shut behind him. He tosses what looks like 3D Maneuver Gear on the ground, and shakes out a spare uniform. "You know I wouldn't be here if—"

"What's happened? Don't worry about him, just talk," Erwin says, with such a tone of instant command that Levi's cock gives a little twitch. He's never wanted to be part of something before, but he does now, wants to be a part of the force that gets up and goes when something happens, running towards the danger and launching themselves toward the unknown, and shit, he's really spending too much time with this asshole if ideas like that are rubbing off.

Erwin's halfway into his pants when the man says, "It's the titans. A-it had to be sixty meters, it broke through Wall Maria!"

I want to come.

Levi watches the man's face go pale, but his hands don't shake when he straps on the gear, faster than Levi could have possibly imagined. Levi moves, grabbing a boot and at least tugging that onto the man's feet, doing whatever tiny thing he can to help when he suddenly feels so useless and so, so small.

The other boot is mostly on when Erwin shifts his weight, shoving his foot the rest of the way in and taking off after the other guy. He spares a half-second's glance back at Levi, but his feet don't pause as he runs out the door. Levi's pretty sure they only hit the stairs twice on the way down, long legs carrying them as fast as possible to a pair of waiting horses that he can hear pelting down the streets.

Only then does the reality sink in. The titans are inside the walls. Everything that had been certain is finished. If Wall Maria can be broken, any wall can be broken, and living inside Wall Sina is no guarantee. There's no way of knowing how many innocents have already been killed.

Levi's blood thrums, and he walks naked to the window, throwing it open and staring at the walls.

Everything has changed.

Maybe he has, too.