#i relate to levi's feeling about food scarcity childhood more than i care to admit

[theferricfox]

[[A/N: this started as a random headcannon I thought of as I was driving to work today and then I talked about it on discord and it.gave me more ideas and suddenly it's a thing now. So here you go. Enjoy.

Content warning: mild child abuse?? Maybe?? It's more implied than anything, I guess. But mostly Kenny is just mean. Also Levi needs a hug.

ACQUIRED TASTE

It took a few months, but Levi is finally starting to get used to food on the surface. At first, he found the stews served in the mess too rich, the spices too strong. The thickened broth felt like sludge on his tongue and he had to force himself not to gag the first few times he ate it. Now, the stew is comforting, a sense of ‘home’ that he’s never quite had, and he savours the chew of potatoes in each bite.

He’s learned not to eat so quickly, too. In the Underground, if you had anything counting for a decent meal, there was a chance someone would try to take it from you. Back then, he’d had to eat as quickly as he could chew and swallow down the half-rotten mass that passed for food, but now he can take his time. Everyone gets the same portions, everyone eats. He’s still taking that part in; none of the soldiers go hungry. Everyone gets to eat every day. Even though some of the cadets gripe that it’s bland and meager compared to what they got back home, he can’t help but be grateful to be able to eat decent food multiple times a day, every day.

His first taste of Surface bread was a surprise, too. Bread was uncommon Underground; the dampness made it prone to molding quickly, and more than half of the flour was cut with sawdust anyway. When the delicate crumb of the roll given to each soldier with dinner first entered his mouth, he was taken aback. He’d rolled the piece on his tongue for a moment, taking in the texture, somehow both fluffy and dense, and the chew of it was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He admits to himself now that he struggled to maintain his impassive expression during those first few meals on the surface. 

Now, as summer beats heavy rays on the ground, lending a gentle tan to his otherwise pale skin, he finds himself walking with Erwin to a local restaurant in town. Erwin told him that it’s one of the best in this area and since they have some time off, invited him to lunch. Although Levi is still wary of Erwin, still trying to figure him out, he can’t deny that he’s drawn to the tall blonde, and he enjoys the friendship they’ve started to build. The invitation to lunch was a surprise; on most days off, Erwin spends his time reading or catching up on paperwork, but today he seems determined to spend the day away from headquarters.

The restaurant sits on a river that winds through the outer portion of the town. The simple wooden exterior somehow glows in the early afternoon sun, the windows reflecting the rays to hide the interior. A sign hangs above the door, proclaiming the name of the establishment, and a small one stands near the entrance, listing the day’s specials. Levi observes the list with curiosity; he’s never heard of the dishes advertised on the slate.

It’s clear that Erwin comes here fairly often when the waitress, a pretty older woman with soft brown curls and a white apron, calls out to him in greeting. Her eyes are gently lined with wrinkles, and Levi thinks about people her age in the Underground; either already limping on bones too soft from lack of sunlight or hopelessly addicted to some drug or other. He fights back a smile at her good fortune as she floats over to Erwin, green eyes alight.

“You’ve brought a friend today, Erwin?” she says. Her voice is like a song sung in spring; Levi can’t remember the last time he heard such a soft woman’s voice, at least not one spoken so naturally and not forced to urge customers inside.

“Yes, this is Levi,” Erwin introduces, gesturing at him warmly.

“Nice to meetcha, hun,” she says with a wink.

“Likewise,” Levi manages. He tries to make his voice friendly, but he’s still not used to just chatting with people. He’s impressed that Erwin can manage it so easily.

“Your usual spot is open, love,” the woman says to Erwin. “I’ll bring you menus in a minute.”

She drifts away and Erwin guides Levi to a table in the corner. Levi hurries to put himself in the chair against the wall facing the rest of the restaurant. Instinctively, he touches the handle of the knife at his belt, the blade embedded in his shoe. He flinches when Erwin opens his mouth to say something and hesitates, unsure how to broach the subject.

“It’s easy to get attacked when you’re eating down there,” Levi says, lowering his eyes. He feels a strange pang of shame inching through him, prickling at his neck and flushing his cheeks. “Anyone wanting to steal your food or take advantage of a moment of vulnerability. I have to…” he pauses, clenching his fist. “I had to be ready and careful.”

To his relief, Erwin doesn’t offer some useless platitude laced with pity like, “well, you don’t have to do that here. You’re safe here.” Instead, he regards him with those blue eyes and mutters a quiet, “I see.”

The waitress flutters back to the table and settles a pitcher of water and two sheafs of paper, written in a flowing cursive.

“Anything else to drink, fellas?” she sings.

“How about a pot of tea, Mable?” Erwin smiles at her warmly.

“Sure thing.” She glides away, the bell of her skirt swelling as she departs.

Levi turns his attention to the writing on the paper in front of him. Although he can read and write, this script is harder for him to discern; the loops and swirls are so dainty and more elegant than any writing he has seen. He glances up to see Erwin watching him, his face blank.

“Yes, I can read,” Levi spits instinctively. 

“I never said you couldn’t,” Erwin says plainly. 

The statement catches Levi off guard. He expected some defense or… he doesn’t know what. A question? A demand of proof that he can, indeed, read? He watches Erwin’s face, waiting for more, but his companion’s face continues to stare back, impassive and unreadable. It’s unsettling being under this level of scrutiny without the immediate response being a punch to the jaw. 

“This writing is just hard for me,” Levi says at last, pulling his eyes back down to the script. “No one I knew ever wrote like this.”

“Admittedly, Mable’s writing is a bit of a challenge for me, too,” Erwin replies with a chuckle. “I think she learned calligraphy as a girl and then took it a little too seriously.”

Levi doesn’t respond, stows away the word calligraphy in his head to look up later. He would rather die than ask Erwin what that word means.

“So, what’ll you have?” Mable is suddenly back, laying a pot of tea and two cups on the table. 

Erwin looks at Levi expectantly, waiting for his answer. Levi feels his face start to flush.

“You’re clearly a regular, Erwin,” he says, folding his arms. “I’ll have whatever you’re having. I trust your judgment here.”

“Two specials it is,” Erwin says with a gentle smile. 

Mable gives a chirp of acknowledgement and flits away.

“What’s the special?” Levi asks, reaching for the teapot. He pours for Erwin first and then himself before setting it down on the table.

“It’s a fish they catch in the river here. Cooked in fat with herbs and served with boiled vegetables.” Erwin retrieves his cup and brings it close, inhaling the steam wafting from it.

Levi hums, trying to imagine the dish. He’s never had fish before. He’s not even sure he’s ever seen one.

“Thank you for pouring the tea, by the way,” Erwin says. His smile is genuine and soft, and Levi can’t stop a small one from creeping onto his own lips.

“Yeah, of course.” He sips cautiously from the cup. It’s not the best tea he’s had by any measure, but it’s competent, and he’s pleased by the taste.

“Did you know that before Humanity retreated to the Walls, there were countries where it was considered rude to pour tea for yourself before you poured for others?” Erwin says. His tone is almost conspiratorial; it makes Levi’s brow hitch up.

“Is that so? And where did you hear that, huh?”

Erwin pauses. Some emotion Levi can’t identify flashes over his features for just a moment. Then, his gaze becomes distant, even as he holds his eyes on Levi.

“I read it in a very old book once,” he says simply, and does not elaborate.

Levi contemplates the statement. He’s certain there’s some other meaning, or some information that was supposed to follow that statement, but decides he won’t press. Instead, he decides to offer Erwin a gift in return.

“In the Underground, it’s customary to pour for your tablemates before yourself,” Levi says. He remembers learning this the hard way, the beatings he took as a brat when he poured for himself and not for anyone else. He remembers the men he gave beatings to for the same infraction. “It’s a token of goodwill, an invitation to share a meal as opposed to fighting for it.”

Erwin takes this information with the slightest smile on his face, but doesn’t say anything.

“You would also drink from it first,” Levi says, taking a sip as if by example. “To prove it isn’t poisoned.”

“Sounds like a delicate dance,” Erwin comments. He sips from his cup, closes his eyes and enjoys the flavour.

“Everything is down there,” Levi says and instantly regrets the statement when Erwin opens his eyes and frowns at him, concern pulling his eyebrows together. He’s quick to follow up: “It’s not a big deal. You get used to it.”

Erwin hums in response but the concern lingers just long enough for Levi wonder if he said something wrong. To his relief, the waitress returns, drifting to the table with two plates held aloft.

“Lunch is served, boys!” she sings, placing the plates down. “You let me know if you need anything else.”

As she floats away, Levi looks down at the dish in front of him. The fish is whole, its clouded gaping eye staring straight to the ceiling. The scales are somewhat browned, contrasting with the silvery flecks that sparkle in the light from the window. It sits on a bed of asparagus and potatoes, and an aromatic sauce with herbs he can’t identify pools underneath everything. 

Levi watches Erwin open the fish; it has been split open down the belly, and delicate white meat glistens. He watches as Erwin pushes his fork into the flesh, pulling up thick strands of fish and dips it in the sauce before placing it in his mouth. He moans his satisfaction.

“They debone the fish before cooking it, so you don’t have to worry about eating around them,” Erwin says after he swallows. He smiles softly at Levi, locking his eyes with the warm blue of the sky swirling within them. “Enjoy.”

Levi follows Erwin’s lead, using his fork and knife to open the fish’s middle and scooping out some of the flesh. He raises it to his nose, smelling the herbs, a hint of something acidic, and what he assumes is the smell of the fish itself. He places the piece in his mouth, chewing slowly to absorb the flavour.

It’s horrible. The fish tastes like dirty water and mud. The texture is slimy and the muscle fibers fall apart in his mouth like logs being dislodged from a cart. He fights the urge to gag and swallows. He’s left with an aftertaste on his tongue that he can only describe as filthy.

Levi tries the vegetables. He knows he likes potatoes, and although he’s never had asparagus before, he finds the vibrant green of the spears appealing.The potatoes are soft and familiar and the asparagus is still somewhat crunchy, and the taste reminds him of when he pinched a maple leaf through his fingers to smell the essence of the greenery. Both are tainted by the sauce, clearly cooked with the fish, and the flavour of the vegetables is almost completely hidden if he doesn’t search for them with his tongue.

Despite the disgust washing through him, he eats, trying to hide the grimace that threatens to darken his face with each mouthful. He tries to imagine the flavour of something more pleasant to cope.

“Levi?” Erwin’s voice pulls him from his concentration. “Do you not like it?”

Levi looks up and is stunned by the look on Erwin’s face. Concern is etched there, and something resembling sadness. Levi feels guilt, knowing that he holds the tools that carved that look into his friend’s features. More than that, he feels bad for disliking a dish Erwin clearly enjoys and ordered for him. It was a gift, sharing a part of himself with Levi, showing him something he enjoys, and Levi is taking it for granted.

“It’s fine,” Levi says, sniffing. He brings another forkful towards his mouth but is stopped by Erwin’s hand on his wrist, holding him still. 

“You don’t have to eat something you don’t like, Levi,” Erwin says carefully. “We can order something else for you.”

Levi isn’t sure what to say. The horrid fork of fish hovers less than two inches from his face, and the smell is starting to make him nauseous. He slowly places it down, the fork gently clanking onto the plate. He opens his mouth, trying to think of something, anything to say. Something witty, something that will make Erwin stop staring at him with that forlorn look on his face. Nothing comes to mind. He closes his mouth, looks out the window, and clenches his jaw.

Levi watches Erwin get up from the corner of his eye but doesn’t follow his trek across the restaurant. He listens as Erwin speaks in low tones to the waitress and although he cannot hear their conversation, his ears burn with embarrassment as he thinks about what she’s saying about him not liking the food. He’s not sure he’s ever been so mortified in his life.

Erwin returns to the table and pulls Levi’s plate over to his side. Levi would be pissed at him for saying something to the waitress if he didn’t have such a mournful look. He settles for a scoff as he reaches for his tea.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Levi says.

“You don’t have to eat something you don’t like,” Erwin repeats.

“What’s going to happen to that one?” Levi asks, pointing towards his former plate.

“Oh, I’ll eat it,” Erwin says. “So if you’re worried about it going to waste, rest assured it will not.”

Erwin picks through the rest of his plate with ease and waits to start in on Levi’s when the waitress returns, setting a plate in front of Levi. She does not chastise him, nor does she apologize. Instead, she gives him a genuine smile and says, “Enjoy!”

Before him is a roasted chicken breast, skin crispy and coated in a fine dusting of cracked pepper. Next to it are potatoes, similarly roasted, and asparagus. Using a new fork and knife that suddenly appeared next to the plate, he cuts through the skin of the breast and into the meat. It glistens with juices as the flesh separates under his knife. He hesitates before bringing the piece to his mouth, aware that Erwin is watching him.

Levi has had chicken before; not often, but enough times to know roughly what it tastes like. In the Underground, real meat was ridiculously hard to come by, and even then, it was either half-rotten or counterfeit. After a particularly lucrative job, he would treat himself, Isabel, and Furlan to a chicken dinner, paying the absurd price for a live one, and then the absurd additional price to have it killed, gutted, and plucked in front of him. It was the only way for him to know he was getting exactly what he paid for. Paying someone else to cook it properly was another drain; Levi frequently found his share of the take was gone by the time the dinner was prepared, but it made his friends happy and put good food in their stomachs, so he had been happy to skimp for a few days after.

Now, as he sits with a piece of chicken on his fork, real chicken raised on the Surface, he is overcome with a sense of nostalgia. He misses his friends. He wishes they could have tasted this food, even if he didn’t like it.

Finally, he puts the meat in his mouth, chewing slowly, and the flavour is nearly enough to bring him to tears. It’s juicy and tender, not the tough, scrawny meat he had in the Underground. It’s bursting with a taste that can only come from being raised in the sun, and he relishes it. He takes a second bite and then a third before remembering Erwin’s eyes on him. Levi feels his face flush as he returns his gaze to Erwin, expecting his companion to laugh or tease him. Instead, Erwin is looking at him with relief and a fond smile. 

“You like this better, then?” Erwin asks softly.

“I do,” Levi admits. “Thank you. For ordering it for me.”

“Of course,” Erwin replies, before returning to his own plate.

Levi continues eating, adding a roasted potato to his mouth. It’s drier than he’s used to, the feel on his teeth is different, but he doesn’t hate it. Still, he likes potatoes inside of a stew better. The asparagus has a similar taste to when it was paired with the fish, a flavour that only makes Levi think of the colour green. He decides he doesn’t necessarily like it, but he eats it all anyway.

He and Erwin eat in relative silence, pausing to thank the other for pouring another cup of tea. When both plates are empty and the bill is paid, Levi follows Erwin out of the restaurant as the waitress bids a hearty farewell to them. Instead of heading towards headquarters, Erwin turns the opposite direction, guiding Levi down a path that traces along the river. 

“I hope I didn’t put you on the spot too much, ordering you something else,” Erwin says after a few minutes of silence.

“Don’t worry about it,” Levi responds quickly, instinctively. He cringes at his defensive tone and decides to try again. “It’s okay, really. Thanks for doing it.”

Silence walks between them. Although this is fairly standard for them now, enjoying each other’s company without needing to fill it with words, this time feels heavy. Levi can feel that Erwin wants to ask him something but isn’t sure how to say it. Levi decides to open the door first.

“You never know when your next meal is coming down there, no matter how successful you are,” Levi says quietly. Erwin stops and turns to face him, and Levi halts, too. “You never know, especially not when you make your living as a… like I did. And you didn’t always get the luxury of eating whatever you wanted. You didn’t get a menu in a restaurant like you do up here. You sit down at a tavern and you eat whatever they put in front of you.” He pauses, takes a breath. “If you’re lucky enough to be able to shop at the street vendors selling real food, you had to just buy what you could afford and would give you enough energy to keep going. Most of it was halfway to rotten anyway, so you could never eat all of whatever you bought, unless you had a strong stomach for it.”

Erwin is silent for a long, agonizing moment, staring him down. 

“So you ate things you didn’t like the taste of? Did you do that often?” Erwin finally asks, and his tone is so sad Levi has a wild urge to hug him. Instead, he offers a mirthless laugh.

“Of course I did. You learn to ignore it, fight back the urge to gag.” Levi feels defensive now, though he isn’t sure why. “You either suck it down and be grateful for something in your stomach or you go hungry. It’s not like up here where you can just choose from a piece of paper with fancy writing on it and then send it back for something else if you don’t like it.”

Levi’s voice has more bite than he means, but he’s suddenly swarmed with memories. Of when he told his mother he didn’t like something she’d managed to buy for them and she sadly begged him to eat it and think of it being something else, something tasty. Of Kenny, backhanding him in the mouth when he said his food tasted like shit. He’d thrown the dish against the wall, making Levi jump as it shattered into pieces and clattered to the floor. Kenny had tied him to the table and told him he was going to sit there all night and look at the food he’d wasted. Before he left the room, he’d told Levi that if he found any of that food gone, he’d beat the shit out of him. Kenny didn’t come back for two days and by that time, Levi had been so delirious from hunger, the first time it’d been so bad since his mother died, that he’d gratefully eaten the horrid bowl of mush that was shoved in his face.

He never complained about food again.

“I’m sorry, Levi,” Erwin says, bringing him out of the memories trying to drown him. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Levi comes back to himself with those sad words and realizes his fists are clenched so hard his nails have bitten into the skin of his palms, making them bleed. His cheeks are wet from a small trickle of tears that have escaped from his eyes. He rubs them roughly away and turns away from Erwin, towards the river.

“It’s okay.” Levi says, and he means it. He’s not mad at Erwin. He’s not even sure that he is mad. “It’s not your fault.”

Erwin’s hand settles on his shoulder, a gesture Levi knows is meant to be friendly, consoling, but he can’t stop himself from gently leaning into the body standing next to him. He finds comfort in the warmth pressed against his skin, even as the sun continues to warm the air around them. 

“Can I ask you a favour, Levi?” Erwin says suddenly. 

“Yeah?” Levi responds, hoping Erwin won’t ask him to stop leaning into him.

“If we’re out and you eat something you don’t like, please tell me. Please don’t be afraid to ask for something else.”

Levi pulls away and looks up into the deep blue eyes he’s losing himself in more often these days. He studies Erwin’s face and finds no deceit, no pity, no disgust. Just empathy. Levi feels something inside of him soften.

“Yeah. I will,” he says at last. 

“Thank you.” Erwin returns with a warm smile. After a pause, he continues, “So, what do you like?”

“I… I don’t know,” Levi says. “Even the same food tastes different here. I feel like I have to relearn tastes all over again.” He offers a chuckle, hoping Erwin understands his joke.

To his relief, Erwin laughs softly. 

“Well, I guess it’s up to me to help you figure it out.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“We’ll go out for lunch every day we have off and you can try new things."

Levi thinks for a minute, absorbing the offer.

"Alright," he says. "I'd like that."

—--

Levi looks at the small notebook in his hands, his scattershot handwriting crawling the pages. The pages he has open have a list on each side: one says 'LIKES' and the other 'DISLIKES.' Under each header is a list of foods Levi has tried and placed into these categories. 

The last few months, Erwin has been taking him to various restaurants for every conceivable meal so Levi can taste what the surface world has to offer. He's found that soft and sweet apples are bland and boring, but crisp and tart ones light his taste buds up in ways he can't describe. To his shock, eggs have made it onto the LIKE list. 

In the Underground, he hated eggs; the sulfurous smell of half-rotted sludge was enough to make his stomach turn whenever he was around them. The fact that they were always overcooked to kill of as much bacteria as possible didn't help. Eating them made his guts feel rancid and bloated, so he had avoided them as much as he could. 

On the surface, eggs can be cooked in a variety of ways, from fried in fat with soft runny yolks the colour of the sun to boiled until they become like a firm jelly. He likes most preparations of eggs, but he enjoys them scrambled with just a hint of pepper the most.

He does not like spicy food. Hot peppers and the spices they yield make his mouth burn and his guts twist. The first time he ate a spicy dish, he coughed violently, rushing to put his napkin in front of his mouth so he didn't spit onto the table. Erwin had asked if he was okay and after a violent shake of his head, his friend had gotten the message and requested a different dish for Levi.

Now, as he sits in a small bakery with Erwin, a cup of tea at his lips, he wonders where the items they've ordered will land on the pages before him. They've ordered a slice of several kinds of tarts as well as a chocolate cake that Levi found very appealing to his eyes.

"I'm surprised you asked to come to a bakery, Levi," Erwin says. He finishes rolling down the sleeves of his shirt and buttoning the cuffs. 

"Why is that?" Levi asks, arching a brow.

"You just don't strike me as a sweets kind of guy."

Levi shrugs, sips his tea.

"I guess we'll find out."

It turns out that Erwin is right. Most of the things he eats are fine, but certainly not a favourite. He flips the page in his book and adds those to the 'OKAY' list. The strawberry tart is too sweet for him, and he hastily offers the rest of the slice to Erwin, who enjoys it immensely. 

When Levi bites into the chocolate cake, he struggles to understand the combination of earthy and sweet of the chocolate. He must make a face as he tries to reconcile the tastes on his tongue because Erwin frowns.

"No?" Erwin asks.

Levi pauses, then his lips lilt into a smile he gives only to Erwin.

"I think this is the perfect thing to share," he says warmly. He cuts a piece and holds his fork out to Erwin, aiming at his lips. 

Erwin grins and opens his mouth. Levi slips it into his mouth, and Erwin moans in satisfaction and he swallows.

"You're right," he says. "It’s perfect for sharing."

Levi slides the plate to the middle of the table and they share the rest of the cake. He's grateful that Erwin doesn't mind sharing; the richness of the chocolate would have him struggling to finish the piece. 

The table cleared, Levi finishes his tea and leans back, satisfied. Just as he's about to suggest they go for a walk before heading back to headquarters, a slice of another tart is placed in front of him. He looks to Erwin after he thanks the server. 

"I took the liberty of adding something to your tasting menu today," Erwin says. A coy smile settles on his features as he steeples his fingers under his chin, eyes eager. "After watching you try things for the last few months, I took a guess about something you might like. It's a lemon tart."

Levi eyes him with some suspicion before cutting a piece off with his fork. Erwin watches him earnestly as he carefully places the piece in his mouth.

He is blown away by the flavour. The tartness of the lemon, a fruit he's never heard of before, breaks through every taste lingering on his tongue, bright and summery, as though it was made of the very essence of sunshine. Underneath the lemon, a crumbly crust, buttery and sweet, lends themselves to a balance that Levi has never experienced before. A soft whipped cream, unsweetened and floating atop the tart, seals everything together in a silky texture that he rolls over on his tongue until it seems to melt. 

He doesn't realize his mouth is gaping after he swallows until Erwin laughs brightly.

"So I was right?"

Levi regards Erwin for a moment, before shoving another piece into his mouth. Instead of eating it, he stands, crosses the length of the table, and presses an open mouth to Erwin's own, forced open by a squeeze to his jaw. Lips locked, he uses his tongue to shove the piece of tart into Erwin’s mouth, before pulling away.

"You tell me," he rasps, his nose barely brushing Erwin’s as his companion struggles to regain his breath. 

Levi returns to his chair and sits, arms crossed, smirking. Erwin hesitates, wide-eyed before chewing the tart.

"Yes," Erwin says, clearly flustered. "It's definitely the perfect dessert for you."

Later, as Erwin is paying for the desserts, Levi opens his notebook and flips to a new page. At the top, he writes, 'LOVE.' Directly underneath, he writes, "lemon tart."

Below that, he writes, "Erwin Smith."