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levmada · 1 year

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au where zevi and the there's only one bed trope somehow coexist: 😌🤝😌

writing this filled by third zevi-shaped hole in my heart

Featuring detectives Zeke and Levi. Zeke gets injured on the job, their hotel room only came with one bed, and Levi has no clean laundry. He's pissed.

And in denial.

AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED (+ snuggling for warmth...)

wc: 2.5k

//vague descriptions of minor injury

Levi gets in the hotel room first with a hard shove to the door. It narrowly misses banging against the wall. "After that shit, this place better be spotless or Erwin's hearing from me."

For all Zeke's bitching about his injury on the cab ride here, he sounds perfectly fine when it's his duty to annoy Levi. "It's probably just the way you look. Don't take it so personally. I'm for one used to it."

They've been unraveling this case for a month now, and right on the cusp of catching the suspect, he slipped from their grasp after a wild chase through an open field. A field. Zeke got shoved into a bunch of barbed wire and Levi can still smell cow shit, on top of the conversation with the bitchy receptionist when they checked in.

Levi doesn't think his mood can get any worse before he takes a look at the room. There's only one king-sized bed.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Levi seethes.

Zeke pushes the door shut, and by his silence, Zeke is looking where he's looking now. "...On the bright side, this is a minor inconvenience compared to everything else that happened today."

"Fuck off, you idiot," Levi spits bitterly, and drops his suitcase in front of the foot of the bed. He can't even tell who or what he's mad at, but he knows even while he's saying it that it isn't at Zeke. Zeke is standing carefully clear of Levi's fury with blood soaked through the arms of his coat.

Levi continues to mutter curses under his breath.

"I guess tea won't make it all feel better this time."

"Zeke—"

"I could use my people skills to get a different room," he says. Sounds like he's teasing, but Levi can tell he's serious.

Levi sighs heavily. He puts his hands on his hips and resists the urge to rub his temples. A headache is brewing behind his eyes. "Don't bother. It's fine."

"A lie if I've ever heard one," Zeke hums. He sits his suitcase down near Levi's.

"I can't believe you're fine with this."

"Compared to you, I'm an optimist." He steps beside him. "Where are you sleeping?"

Levi points at the chair. “Are your glasses broken? I’ll sleep there.”

“You?” Zeke blinks. “That’s no good for your back, but you’re the boss, boss.”

Zeke is agreeing with him, and yet it still feels like he’s making fun of him. It’s infuriating. Levi is definitely annoyed with him, as usual.

“I'm not your boss. And you have a wound you should be cleaning.”

At the reminder, a little of Zeke’s glee falls off his face. He shrugs off his coat, and turns for the bathroom. “It does hurt, I admit. Exactly right, Levi…”

They’ll only be here for the night, so while Zeke is cleaning up—not that he bothered to close the bathroom door—Levi unpacks his things sparingly. Also Zeke’s eyeglass cleaner and case on the bedside, so he doesn’t forget to clean them... or fall asleep with them on his face again. He’s no use if he can’t see, Levi rationalizes to himself.

The whole room needs a complete dusting… maybe some air freshener, it's stale-smelling, but Levi again reminds himself that this is just for one night. Next time, he’ll make sure they get a room actually fit for the both of them. His paycheck be damned. He's not in detective work for the money.

Water in the bathroom runs briefly, but only briefly. Zeke got fucked up on the barbed wire pretty badly, so, feeling curious, Levi walks over, and spies Zeke’s face in the mirror as he dabs a washcloth on the assortment of little wounds dotting his arms.

But he looks sparingly. Surely taking off his shirt is overkill considering the injuries, but that’s just Zeke.

“Questions or concerns?” Zeke quips.

Levi leans against the doorway. “Yeah. If you weren’t so reckless, maybe you’d live long enough to get a promotion.”

“A concern, then…” Zeke smiles. “I’m quite content where I am, but thank you for the concern, Levi. And here I thought you didn’t care about me.”

“Tch. It’s just my job.”

“You’re too kind. I’ll invite you to my 30th birthday party. It’ll be a rager. 30 is the new 20, after all.”

He’s so full of shit. Levi bites on a smirk. “Who told you that to make you feel better? Erwin? No one says ‘rager’ anymore.”

“My little brother, actually.”

He doesn’t have a remark for that. Levi has met Eren a few times, and every time he does, Levi doubts what he’s seen in movies with two brother characters, being raised an only child himself. It makes him wonder how different Zeke would be if he didn’t have someone to bounce all his stupid jokes off of. As a result, Zeke is never not at least slightly entertaining, even when he’s being impossible.

Zeke continues to clean his wounds, not from water using the sink, but a white bottle placed on the counter.

Levi charges into the bathroom and snags the rag out of Zeke’s hand, and drops it in the sink. As he grabs a new one, he says, “You idiot. Don’t use alcohol on an open wound; it dries it out and stops it from healing.”

Zeke looks down at himself curiously. “Oops.”

Zeke may be an idiot, but he isn’t stupid. Levi can’t help but suspect he messed up on purpose just to get under Levi’s skin. Either way, his proximity is distracting. He feels somehow embarrassed to look at him without a shirt on, even though they've been partners for years, and even before, when Levi was in charge of him.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you basic first aid?”

“No…? I don’t think that’s too common. Did yours not teach you to play nice with others?” Zeke tilts his head curiously and stares down at Levi. He blatantly ignores him, and pushes the wet rag to his chest. Honestly, Levi didn’t know that, but he’s not about to admit it. He avoids anther glimpse at Zeke’s bare chest and promptly leaves before he does, or says, something he’ll regret. Levi doesn’t know why he feels so fond of him when Zeke is this annoying. Why his stomach dropped for the half-second the suspect shoved Zeke into the barbed wire fence. If Levi were faster, he could’ve prevented that. He failed.

It’s not like Zeke isn’t his equal, either. They’ve been partners for a long time, but Levi just has a talent for this line of work, he guesses. That’s what he tells himself so it makes sense that he’s concerned about him.

While avoiding Zeke some more, he picks up ice from the machine down the hall, shivering in the cold even within the hotel. He should wear long sleeves if he wants any hope of sleeping tonight. He's still a little on-edge from that confrontation.

Back at their room, the door locks behind him with a click. The tin of ice goes on the long dresser that has the TV sat on top.

Zeke is fully clothed again, and wiping down the windowsill. Even using a micro-fiber cloth… that he must’ve stolen from Levi’s suitcase.

“You’re cleaning?” The surprise in Levi's tone is clear.

“I’m resigned to your neurotic tendencies these days.”

Levi approaches from behind, and elbows him aside. He slides his finger along the windowsill and squints. “For someone resigned to them, you sure are doing a good job…”

He looks a little serious. “Those worry lines are permanent. And besides... I learn from the best. When you yell at me for missing a spot.”

“I'm not worried,” he protests quietly. “You took a fall today. Go to bed.”

“Anything for you, boss,” Zeke sighs, sardonic as always, and strides to the bed. He sits down heavily, and yanks the sheets from their tuck. Sloppy.

Levi’s face feels warm. “I’m not your boss anymore.”

“Ah, see, but you seem to really enjoy ordering me around. Not that I’m complaining.”

“As long as you do what you’re told,” Levi replies, without thinking.

Zeke smiles at him. For the first time, Levi notices what he put on after unconsciously avoiding looking at his chest. The shirt he has on still reveals hints of his collarbones, and the top of his chest.

“Mostly,” he says.

That's that.

Only one lamp remains lit on Zeke’s bedside. The only other light glows from Levi’s computer screen as he catches up on emails and the news. He can’t be working all the time, though he tries.

His eyes grow heavy eventually. Although he knows sleep will be hard-fought no matter what, he glances at the clock in the corner of the screen and decides to get ready for bed.

It all goes well. Levi is silent, since Zeke sleeps lightly.

Until he rifles through his suitcase. He has no clean shirts left, and he’s close to shivering. Any laundromat around is going to be closed at this hour.

Should he wake Zeke up and ask to borrow a shirt? No, he immediately decides. Creepy. More fodder Zeke can use to make jokes at Levi's expense.

But Levi overestimates his own fortitude. He refuses to sleep in his sweaty shirt from that day covered in who knows how many and what germs, so the unforgiving wooden chair paints his back in a chill. He keeps thinking about how nonchalant Zeke was about the bed thing. How he made an effort to make Levi feel better about it. How he could tell that the barbed wire incident upset him. It’s hard to tell when Zeke is bullshitting and when he isn’t, but he likes to think he knows Zeke well enough to know.

Nonetheless, Levi will freeze to death before the night is out at this rate. The heater attached to far wall is doing nothing. As his teeth threaten to chatter, he grinds his jaw into dust and tightens his crossed arms. He can’t tell if what he’s thinking of doing is becoming more necessary, or more alluring with time. He can’t decide if he’s annoyed, or if these butterflies in his stomach are fluttering around for another reason.

Fuck.

Levi stands, and marches over to the bed. Zeke is a giant who also chose to sleep right in the middle. “Hey. Scoot over.”

He wakes swiftly, and blinks up at Levi disbelievingly. "Huh? Really?" He blinks again. "You're shirtless."

"So? Don't be an idiot. Unless you changed your mind from earlier," Levi adds. "I'm out of clean shirts."

"How... unfortunate." For once, Zeke looks totally out of his element. Levi doesn't know how he feels about that.

"So?"

Zeke peels the covers open and scoots over. Levi clambers into the bed, immediately warmed by the downy duvet. He tugs it up to his chin and stares ahead in determination to forget about Zeke's presence right behind him.

But then, the mattress shifts and squeaks again. Zeke is getting up. Levi is just about to snap at him just in case he thinks this means trading places (that chair is fucking miserable), but he climbs back in after the sound of his suitcase zipping.

Levi turns his head. Zeke's expression is utterly unreadable, but he's holding one of his shirts.

"...Do you want me to dress you too, or will you take it?"

"Tch." He snatches the shirt harsher than he meant, and sits up to pull it on. It's not that he's not thankful, just Zeke making him more embarrassed in addition to this whole situation.

It doesn't help that it's soft, or that as soon as Levi pulls it over his head he's hit by a wave of oily cologne, firs, Zeke smells. It's not unpleasant at all, but of course it's baggy. The sleeve of the shirt threatens to drop off his shoulder as soon as Levi shifts to lay back down.

"Hey... is that a scrape?"

Levi lays down facing away. "Is that why you're still staring at me? A dumb scrape? I get scrapes all the time," he says quickly. His cheeks are on fire.

There's a click, and the room is shrouded in darkness again. "It's a part of my job, as you said yourself, remember? To be fair... I care more about your wellbeing than you, but that isn't saying much."

Levi thinks Zeke is facing him from behind. A part of him wants to turn over, but it's easier to talk like this. "Determined to get that promotion, are you?"

"...I'm happy where I am. Listening skills, Levi."

"Fine," Levi huffs shortly. His stomach feels weightless. "Whatever, Beardy."

Levi senses it before Zeke touches the collar of the shirt that's slipped down to his bicep. Reflexively, Levi kicks him in the shin. He whips his head over his shoulder to look at his grimacing face in the dark—his blushing face.

"So cruel," Zeke scoffs.

"Well you can't—Don't... Don't just do that without telling me."

Silence.

“May I?"

Is he being serious? Is he? is all Levi can think. He barely hears himself say yes.

His palm is surprisingly warm, felt through even the thick fabric. Zeke has always ran hot, which might explain why he's so fond of taking off his shirt every chance he gets. Idiot. Stupid dumb idiot.

Levi grinds his teeth as he fixes the sleeve, and Zeke's touch disappears, but he shivers anyway. Surprisingly, no jokes. He respects the boundary of touch to almost a shy degree. It's a little endearing.

"Still cold?"

Levi can tell Zeke doesn't believe what he's asking. “...Maybe.”

Before Zeke can act, make another forced quip, or he himself can lose his bravery, Levi reaches over for his big hand and drags his arm around his middle.

Silence again. Zeke shuffles up close to his back, as warm as a damn furnace. He's big enough to lay his head on the pillow above Levi's own. The image of a bear pops into Levi's head. If he strains his senses, maybe he can feel Zeke's heart pounding at his back. Maybe Zeke can hear his own.

Levi's hand doesn't leave his wrist. He's still processing how nice this feels. Even Zeke isn't saying anything. He wonders if they're thinking the same thing.

"You're like a fucking board," Levi whispers. "Don't tell me we went through all this trouble for you to lay there all night."

Zeke's low voice rumbles from his chest. "Forgive me for being mindful of your boundaries. Or crossing one of your many lines."

Levi scoffs. “At this point, what lines?”

Zeke grows a little more tense, but relaxes in the span of moments. It goes unspoken, but they move at the same time, sliding their legs together. Levi instantly wants to point out that he's like... like a caveman or something else smart, but it doesn't appeal to him for once. Any idea of anything at all vanishes from his mind when Zeke's head shifts. He feels his lips in his hair.

"Sorry, I should've told you before I did that."

Levi blinks widely into the darkness. "...You get away with it this one time."

"I'm overjoyed," Zeke murmurs, fondly.

Levi chuckles slightly through his nose. He has a feeling, or no, an overwhelming confidence that it won't be just that one time.

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#zeke x levi #zevi #aot fanfiction #aot fic #aot fluff #attack on titan angst #attack on titan fanart #snk fic #zeke yeager #shingeki no kyojin

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