#maybe I will finally get around to it hjkh

[someonestolemyshoes]

So at risk of stepping out of line here are some prompts of many genres for you! I dont know if any of these tickle your fancy.

Hange Survives the rumbling

Magic AU (specifically what would they be skilled or not skilled in. I always picture Hange as being good at illusions and Levi being good at combat magic but best at house hold charms for example)

Zombie apocalypse AU (Levi was a little disgruntled at first to have a tag along but warms up to her pretty quickly and mostly against his better judgement. He is forced to concede having someone to watch his back is nice after she saves his life though )

The exact moment other characters realized Levi had feelings for Hange.

Hange and Levi pranking Erwin in increasingly elaborate ways while keeping their identity a secret. As he gets more and more frustrated.

Just straight up angst with a capitol A

Ive honestly thoroughly enjoyed everything you've written and look forward to seeing more. I dont know etiquette for offering prompts and hope I didnt offer too many. I just thought they sounded cool.

I have saved all of these because there are so many good ideas BUT on this occasion I have decided to write the following: The exact moment other characters realized Levi had feelings for Hange. This was also inspired in part by something @glassesandswords said earlier regarding Levihan and ballroom dancing. There is no (real) dancing, but there is a ballroom.....does that count? 

They were greeted politely at the doors, and led through a huge, carved entryway, intricate pillars stretching from the shiny marble floor to the high, mural ceiling. It was a beautiful architectural feat, but the effect was wasted on Erwin's small group, who observed the space with contempt, or else in Hange's case, stared only at the floor where their reflections shimmered in the polished surface.

Sweet music played through a closed set of double doors up ahead, carrying with it the hum of many voices interspersed now and then with a raucous laugh, or the clink of cutlery on expensive ceramic dishes. Two men, dressed in matching uniform, bowed politely and pulled the doors open, and the sound from within spilled into the entryway, echoing into the vast space.

The ballroom was beautiful.

** 

The carriage pulled up in a stone-paved courtyard outside one of the most extravagant buildings Erwin had ever seen. Much like everything else in Sina, money had been thrown about without restraint, to create halls and mansions and castles each bigger and more gaudy than the last. They functioned almost exclusively as a show of wealth, save for the occasional ball or banquet where the space was welcome, and the rich were more than happy to showcase their spoils.

Tonight, this particular hall had the honour of hosting the Benefactors Ball. It was an opportunity for the military factions to rub shoulders with nobility, and garner themselves some additional funding—politicking disguised as polite conversation over glasses of champagne, each one likely costing more than the monthly budget allocated for the Survey Corps as a whole.

Erwin stepped down from the carriage and took in the space. The building was tall, all white stone and huge, arched windows, polished until they shone, reflecting the evening sky. A wide staircase led to a set of great oak doors, thrown open and exposing a glimpse of the entrance hall within. The interior was full of buildings like this, large enough to hold hundreds, but vacant for most of the year, while the people within Wall Rose lived like cattle, penned into cramped houses with one room for a whole family.

Behind him, the carriage creaked as Levi climbed down. He stopped beside Erwin and stared up at the lavish building with his lip curled, his distaste evident. He made no efforts to hide his disgust at the gaudy display of luxury, and did not bother lowering his voice when he said, "stinks like pig shit. Filthy rich bastards can't pay someone to wipe their asses properly?"

Erwin cleared his throat, swallowing the urge to laugh. He perfectly understood Levi's disdain, for the sentiment was widely shared, both throughout the Corps and much of the land outside of the interior. People lived in poverty, struggling to make ends meet and fighting for rations while the rich ate decadent banquets full of more food than they could ever hope to consume, growing fat and idle in their comfort.

To his left, Mike had alighted from the carriage and was busy straightening his suit. He showed less restraint than Erwin, snorting and garnering some scathing looks from the passing attendees. Erwin fixed his face into a pleasant, appeasing smile, and spoke through the side of his mouth. "Better not to insult our company if you want to eat over the winter."

"We're already eating scraps like dogs," Levi protested with a sharp click of his tongue.

"And you'll be eating less than that if they cut our funding. Behave, please."

Mike shrugged a shoulder, unbothered by Erwin's scolding. Levi shot him a scowl, but did not argue and instead turned to talk over his shoulder, barking out. "Oi, four-eyes. The hell is taking so long?"

There was some shuffling inside the carriage. Erwin could hear Hange grumbling to themself inside it, and then their voice called out, somewhat petulantly, "I feel ridiculous."

"We're running late," Erwin said. "Come on."

Hange swore quietly, then sighed. More shuffling  and Erwin heard the carriage stairs creak as Hange climbed their way carefully down them, manoeuvring awkwardly with all the loose fabric around their legs. They stood stiffly beside Levi, adjusting the thin, silk shawl across their shoulders and pulling it over their chest. The neckline of their dress cut too low for their comfort, which Hange had complained about endlessly on the ride here, and the midnight blue fabric fell to brush the tops of their feet, where they had been forced into a pair of flat, thin-soled shoes that were already rubbing the skin of their heels raw.

The dress was very pretty, and in truth, Hange looked very pretty in it, but their discomfort showed painfully in their high, drawn shoulders and slouched posture, curved over themself to make their long, thin frame appear as small as possible.

"I don't see why I couldn't wear a suit like everybody else," Hange said, huffing to blow their fringe out of their face. Nanaba had fixed their hair in a delicate half-up do, a pretty, intricate bun fastened at the back of their head while the rest of their hair fell in loose curls just past their shoulders. Already, they seemed annoyed with it, constantly pushing it away from their face and neck. Mike turned to examine the view and Levi, who had been watching Hange slyly from the corner of his eye, slid his gaze forward and away. Erwin cleared his throat, but made no comment. The organisers had been clear about their dress code requirements—no military decoration, suits for the men and dresses for the women. Hange's military record had decided their fate for the evening, and no amount of arguing or pleading could change that.

After a pregnant pause, Erwin politely held out an arm for Hange, and gave them a somewhat apologetic smile. "Shall we?"

Hange kept their hands to themself. They shook their head and made a vague gesture for Erwin to walk ahead, following closely behind him and Mike, whose combined height and bulk blocked them from view. Erwin felt a little guilty, for forcing Hange to come, and for refusing their multiple requests to dress in something they felt more relaxed in. But Erwin understood well how the benefactors operated, knew that a pretty face in a nice dress had sway where stoic men in suits did not. Hange's frosty attitude towards him was enough to convince him that they understood, too.

They were greeted politely at the doors, and led through a huge, carved entryway, intricate pillars stretching from the shiny marble floor to the high, mural ceiling. It was a beautiful architectural feat, but the effect was wasted on Erwin's small group, who observed the space with contempt, or else in Hange's case, stared only at the floor where their reflections shimmered in the polished surface.

Sweet music played through a closed set of double doors up ahead, carrying with it the hum of many voices interspersed now and then with a raucous laugh, or the clink of cutlery on expensive ceramic dishes. Two men, dressed in matching uniform, bowed politely and pulled the doors open, and the sound from within spilled into the entryway, echoing into the vast space.

The ballroom was beautiful. Long tables lined the walls, piled high with more food than they had ever seen in their lives, steaming joints of meat, fresh and tender, and fish, vegetables steamed or roasted and coated in unfamiliar herbs and spices. The combined smell was mouthwatering. Beside him, Mike breathed long and deep through his nose. There was a huge, open floor in the centre of the room where the attendees were mingling, the men dressed in sharp, well-fitted suits and the women draped in elegant dresses, fine jewelry studding their fingers and wrapping their wrists, pearls and gems hanging from their necks. A great, ornate chandelier hung overhead, lit with what felt like hundreds of candles, the firelight ducking and weaving, shimmering from the hanging crystals and casting pretty, shifting shadows on the floor below. On one wall, huge windows ran from ceiling to floor and displayed a well-groomed garden flushed pink in the setting sun, dotted carefully with trimmed bushes and pruned flowers, a great stone fountain set in the centre,

The four of them stood in a line in the open doorway. Erwin observed quickly, efficiently. Many faces were already blushing a little red, from the heat and their full stomachs and the champagne, ferried around the room by waiters carrying trays, darting about the space with choreographed ease. He spotted a few of the key benefactors, those with the fattest wallets, and took note of the drinks in their hands—tumblers of amber liquid, whiskey or brandy from the bar, or else goblets of deep red wine that stained their lips and teeth. A glass or two more and enough sweet, sickly compliments, and Erwin felt confident they could come to some financial agreements.

He turned to look at the others. Mike's expression was neutral, eyes masked by his long fringe, but his posture was relaxed, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. Levi's eyes had once again roved to one side, where Hange stood, taking in the room with one arm covering their chest, their nails scratching absently at the skin of their neck. Levi clicked his tongue at them and reached up, flicking their knuckles.

"Stop doing that, idiot," Levi said. "You look diseased."

Hange's neck had indeed turned a deep shade of red where their nails had raked at the skin, swelling in thin, raised welts that threatened to split open with much more abuse. Hange pulled the shawl tighter around themself.

"I have a few people I need to speak to," Erwin said. He shot them each a look in turn. "Mingle, but please, stay out of trouble."

Mike nodded. Levi shrugged a shoulder. Hange glared at him, the candlelight catching and glinting off their glasses. Erwin trusted the group, but not completely. Mike had a penchant for dry sarcasm, and Erwin had observed of late that Hange and Levi could make an explosive pair when left to their own devices, equally as volatile whether they were conspiring together or else at each other's throats. Collateral damage within the Corps was easy enough to iron out—traumatised recruits were simple to deal with. Offended benefactors and interior personnel were a whole other matter. Smoothing out Survey Corps relations with their funding parties was a headache Erwin didn't need, if he could help it.

Hange, though, looked ill-equipped for mischief. Erwin couldn't recall a time he had ever heard them seem quiet, or seen them so tense. Of all the soldiers Erwin had ever known, Hange was the most loose, relaxed, with little regard for military hierarchy, no sense of personal space, and a lack of shame so absolute it bordered on admirable. He had never seen Hange so subdued, before. He might have found the reprieve from their usual exuberance peaceful, if not for the itch of guilt that came with it.

But he didn't have time to dwell on it. There were more important matters to attend to, and Erwin took his leave from the group with a stern nod, leaving to greet Pixis and Nile where they were talking politely with some bloated, red-faced nobles.

The evening passed in endless addresses. Erwin flattered his way around the room, speaking humbly with innumerable men, smiling and taking their backhanded compliments with grace while pushing another drink into their greedy hands.

Over the shoulders of one stout man with yellow teeth and breath like tobacco, Erwin caught sight of Mike, dutifully nodding his head as a gaggle of older women flocked around him. He panned his gaze around, searching for his two missing soldiers, until his eyes landed on Hange where they stood near a corner of the room, engaged in awkward looking conversation with a lanky man who seemed to share Hange's usual sentiments about personal space. He was taller than Hange, but had stooped until their faces were close, and in both of his hands he held one of Hange's, stroking over their knuckles as he talked. Hange had a forced smile on their face, but even from this distance Erwin could see the strain in their neck, the tightness in their face, their free hand white-knuckling a fist full of their dress at their side.

Erwin had known Hange long enough to understand the concentrated effort with which they were holding back. He would have to thank them later, for not causing a scene, but he could have hardly blamed them if they had. As he watched, the man brought one hand up to Hange's hair, following a loose curl from the crown of their head, past their cheek, and to their shoulder, where his fingertips danced lightly at their collar. Hange's face was pale in their anger, and Erwin was mentally preparing the kind of speeches he'd have to give to excuse Hange's indiscretion, when a figure appeared at their side offering a glass of champagne. Erwin's brows rose.

Levi had come out of nowhere. He pressed the glass insistently at Hange, who quickly pulled both of their hands free to take it. Their admirer looked sufficiently displeased by the interruption, straightening to his full height and looking down his nose at Levi. Levi stared back impassively, gaze unwavering as Hange spoke, gesturing towards Levi, and Erwin watched with some smug satisfaction as introductions were made, and the sleazy old man realised exactly who had joined their conversation.

He stuck around for only a moment, before taking his leave. Hange watched him go, then visibly sagged in place, taking a long gulp from the delicate flute and bringing their hand up to their throat. Levi said something that made Hange laugh. Their smile was small and the shake of their shoulders was slight, but it was genuine. Levi slapped weakly at Hange's hand—they had been scratching again, the skin of their neck red and irritated. He took the champagne flute from their hand and drank the rest, depositing the empty glass on a nearby table and pulling a face, running his tongue over his teeth. Hange laughed again, a little brighter this time, some delight reflected in their face as they watched Levi's twisted expression, and when Levi said something that looked suspiciously like piss off, they laughed loud enough that Erwin could just hear it. Levi nudged at Hange's ribs with his elbow and Hange grabbed onto his arm, wriggling away. When Levi stopped his prodding, Hange didn't let go of him. And then the crowd shifted, a throng of men heading towards the bar, obscuring Levi and Hange from his view.

Huh.

That was interesting.

Levi had been with them for just over two years now. He had opened up very little in that time, remained almost as stoic and distant as he had been when he had first been recruited. He spoke little, and what conversation he did make was always rude and often perfunctory, coaxed into short, one-word answers or non-committal grunts. He dealt with Erwin because he had to. He tolerated Mike due to proximity alone—where Erwin went, Mike was never far behind.

His forbearance of Hange was more confusing.

There was no real need for them to spend much time together. Outside of meetings and events like these, compulsory gatherings where Erwin preferred to bring his most trusted subordinates, the pair of them were never required to be in each other's company. He'd had no doubt that Hange would be pushy; they were fascinated by Levi and had been since the beginning, keen to observe as much as they could, to understand and employ whatever technique it was that allowed Levi to move so quickly, to fight so efficiently. He had been unsurprised to see Hange hovering around Levi shortly after their first mission together—"like a fly on horse shit," Levi had said—and it had been no shock to him at all that Levi's dismissal had fallen on deaf ears.

But time had passed, and despite Levi's constant grumbles and complaints, seeing the two of them together had become an increasingly familiar sight.

Things weren't always amiable. There was a lot of bickering, loud disagreements where Hange would whinge and push and prod and Levi's anger would build until he was steaming, and there had on one occasion been a physical fight, the kind of feral scuffling in the dirt usually reserved for children. Erwin had broken that up himself after battling to the centre of a watching crowd, and the pair of them had sat down across from him at his desk, their faces resolutely turned in opposite directions, their hair and clothes coated in dusty, dry soil, with  swelling bruises on their cheeks and split skin on their knuckles. They pointed fingers, each laying the blame squarely on the other, and neither had admitted the root cause. Erwin eventually dismissed them with a headache, and demanded that whatever their issue was, they resolve it—civilly. He had wholly expected another scrap, but had been pleasantly surprised at finding the pair of them sitting together in the mess hall that evening—they were arguing about Hange's ludicrous notion to capture a titan when he had passed them, Levi jabbing his fork at Hange's hand when they slyly reached for his bread, but there was a familiar light in Hange's eyes, one that told him this argument, at least for now, was not serious.

Erwin had been pleasantly surprised to see a similar expression reflected on Levi's usually flat, stoic face. He had ripped his bread loaf in two, and dropped half of it silently onto Hange's plate as he told them, "for the last damn time, no."

Levi afforded Hange for more leniency than he did to anybody else. He would pull a face when Hange threw an arm around his shoulder, but he never pushed them away anymore. He'd grumble if Hange dropped next to him on Erwin's sofa and wriggled their does under his thighs for warmth, curse them for putting their dirty feet on the furniture, but it had been a long time now since Levi had knocked their feet back to the floor. He would badger them relentlessly about their greasy hair or the dirt under their nails, and in the same breath he would tug on their ponytail, his fingers sinking easily into the knotted, unkempt hair.

And now, this—Levi barely tolerated using communal utensils, opting often to clean his own cutlery before eating. To drink directly from the same glass as anyone, let alone Hange, who Levi notoriously butted heads with over their personal hygiene, was unimaginable. And yet.

Erwin was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of his name, and turned back to his companion, falling easily into conversation once more.

The evening dragged on. The sky outside the great windows was full dark, the stone fountain pale in the moonlight. The water shimmered, dark and spotted with the light from the stars. Erwin's throat was dry and sore from talking, but he felt satisfied—he had secured plenty of meetings to negotiate funding, enough that he wasn't all too worried that they would inevitably lose a few offers when the alcohol wore off.

He found Mike near the bar, finally alone. Erwin crossed to him and greeted him with a nod, ordering a drink and leaning against the bar beside Mike to enjoy it.

"Calling it a success?" Mike asked. Erwin hummed.

"I think so. I'll wait until we are safely back at the barracks before I say for certain."

Mike snorted quietly into his glass. He was sipping from a glass of fragrant whiskey, something deep and smoky. Erwin took another mouthful from his water.

"And you?" Erwin asked. "Would you call it a successful evening?"

Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "A very lovely lady left me her address. She insisted I write to her."

Erwin's lip quirked. He hid it behind his glass. "Will you?"

Mike shrugged. "Maybe. I figure she might leave me a big fat inheritance if I do."

Erwin chuckled, and looked about the room.

The crowd had thinned some, and those who remained spoke in loud, slurred voices that sounded over the lazy music played by the band. They stood around in small clusters, picking at the plentiful food and chugging down their drinks, bellies swollen behind shirts bursting at the seams. Pigs ready for slaughter, if it weren't for the work of people like them, who put their lives on the line for humanity every time they set foot into titan territory.

Mike elbowed him. Erwin hummed, and Mike nodded his head towards a corner of the room. "How's that for a success?"

Many of the candles in the chandelier had gone out, leaving the room with a smoky haze and the lights lower than before, a warm orange glow that barely reached the corners. Hange had sat themself on the corner of one of the tables, their feet dangling a little way off the floor as they drank from another glass of champagne. Their shawl had been replaced with Levi's jacket, buttoned just over their chest to cover them, and they had kicked off their shoes, bare feet swinging back and forth as they drank. Their hair had been thrown up into its customary ponytail, messy and shaggy at the back of their head. They looked much more like Hange, more relaxed, more comfortable.

Levi stood close beside them, his hip cocked against the table edge, Hange's shawl folded neatly and draped over his arm. The pair of them were talking between themselves, observing the room—Hange kept snickering, and Levi kept hiding his own smile with his champagne glass. Both of their cheeks were flushed pink, noticeable even with the distance. Hange twisted their head to look at Levi, still laughing, and reached up idly to fuss with his hair. Levi continued talking to Hange as though they hadn't touched him, his eyes glued to their face as they broke into a loud, tinkling laugh, the kind that carried like windchimes over the rest of the noise. Levi's eyes were a little wide, brows relaxed out of his customary frown, and his lips were a little parted as he stared openly at Hange.

"You think he knows he looks at Hange like they put the sun in the sky?" Mike said. Erwin laughed and shook his head.

Whatever Hange said next must have been teasing. Their lips spread in a sly smile, showing teeth, and their eyes pinched behind their glasses. They leaned a little further into Levi's space, and Erwin noticed Hange's leg drift sideways, their toes brushing against Levi's calf. Whatever Hange said made Levi grimace, but he put no distance between them. One of his hands settled on Hange's knee as he leaned even closer, and the other came up between their faces to pinch at Hange's nose. He shook their face back and forth until Hange brought their hands up and wrapped them around Levi's wrist. Levi relinquished his hold, and Hange lowered their hands down into their lap, playing with Levi's fingers as they fell back into conversation.

Levi put no distance between them. Erwin and Mike watched the pair of them, watched as Levi swayed even further into Hange's space, his fringe brushing against Hange's brow. Hange was watching him curiously, their head tipped a little to one side—Levi initiating any kind of proximity must have been new, even to Hange, but they didn't seem at all bothered by his closeness.

Mike let out a low whistle. "Little street rat has a soft spot."

Erwin gave Mike a warning look, and Mike raised his hand in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. Just surprised to see the captain has feelings, is all."

"It's that hard to believe?" Erwin said. "He cared a lot about his friends, too. He has a heart."

"Somewhere."

Erwin rolled his eyes. Levi and Hange were still standing close, and Levi looked very much like he was debating something in his head. His eyes flicked over Hange's face, and his fingers curled slowly around Hange's, gripping one of their hands in his. Erwin found himself holding his breath, watching them, waiting with a childishly eager anticipation. As their superior, Erwin certainly shouldn't encourage interpersonal relationships between his soldiers—but they were his friends, too. If they could afford themselves a moment of happiness in this hellish world, Erwin wouldn't stop them. Not for one night.

And then Hange's eyes flicked their way. They grinned widely, turning their face and lifting a hand to wave enthusiastically across the room. Unthinking of their attire, Hange bent a knee up and braced one of their heels on the table edge, exposing entirely too much skin to the remaining patrons in the room.

Erwin waved calmly back. Mike raised his glass. Levi stepped out of Hange's space, pausing only to pull a face and silently drape Hange's shawl over their lap, to cover them where the dress had ridden up their leg. He slipped his hand out of Hange's and jammed it instead into his pocket, and shook his fringe over his eyes, looking at Erwin and Mike through it. His scowl was back in place, but the colour in his cheeks had intensified.

Hange spoke to Levi, then hopped off the table grabbed his hand again, turning backwards to keep a hold of his hand as he bunched up their shawl and scooped to pick up Hange's shoes, dangling them from his fingers as Hange dragged him barefoot across the ballroom floor. Levi followed behind, caught helplessly in Hange's wake. In the middle of the floor Hange paused, and turned to him so quickly the hem of their dress rose, twirling around their legs. Whatever they said made Levi shake his head, and then shake it again, more firmly, but Hange laughed that bright, tinkling laughter and held the skirt of their dress in their spare hand, dipping into an exaggerated curtsey. Erwin wasn't sure what had done it, whether it was the alcohol or the jacket covering them up, or perhaps it was simply the presence of good company, but Hange was behaving more like themself again, bubbly and alive, and Levi was as ever their hopeless victim, cringing when Hange spun themself down the length of his arm, paused briefly with their body pressed tight against his chest, and then back out again, teetering on their toes to keep their balance. 

They tried valiantly to coax Levi into a few off-beat steps, moving to a rhythm Erwin couldn’t identify. They smile was bright, their face pleasantly read, and they were wholly unbothered by Levi’s lack of commitment. Levi looked at them sternly, but the threat of it was lost in the bright red flush of his cheeks.

"You're no fun, Levi!" They whined, close enough now that Erwin could hear them. Levi clicked his tongue.

"You're acting like an idiot."

"I'm having fun," Hange said, tugging on Levi's hand. "You should try it! You might like it."

"Brat."

Hange grinned as though he had complimented them. Levi's lips twitched, but he held back any urge to smile and curled his lip in a snarl instead, hitting Hange's leg lightly with their shoes and urging them to start walking again. Hange saluted him and together they crossed the rest of the distance and stopped before Erwin and Mike. Hange kept a casual hold on Levi's hand and Levi made no move to part from them, but he glared at Mike and Erwin as though daring them to say something. Mike smirked, and Levi flushed deeper, but his grip tightened around Hange's fingers.

"Are we done?" Hange asked. Erwin nodded. "Good. My feet are killing me—who the hell designed shoes like? And I’m tired of creepy old men—which reminds me,” Hange reached into the top of their dress and pulled out a handful of napkins, which they handed over to Erwin. “These perverts seemed pretty eager to spare a pretty penny for a nice young lady like myself.” Hange pulled a face as they said it. “I can't wait to get this dress off."

Erwin noted with interest the way Levi's eyes slid to Hange, roving down the length of their body and up again.

Mike downed the last of his drink. "Finally," he said, stretching and following as Erwin led them towards the door.

"Tired after wagging your tail for all those grandma's?"

Hange snickered, and Levi's mouth pulled into half a smile. Mike, unaffected by the jab, only grinned.

"Exhausted. What about you, though? Eager to head back and pop some pain killers?"

"Hah?"

Mike's grin widened. He leaned closer to Levi, and Erwin had to strain his ears to hear him.

"I heard being whipped hurts."

This time, Levi did let go of Hange's hand. Quickly.

There was a carriage waiting for them outside. Erwin took the stairs quickly, eager to sit and rest for the duration of the journey back to the barracks. He opened the door and turned, waiting to let the others in, but only Mike was behind him. Levi and Hange were still at the top of the stairs, Hange holding Levi's shoulders for balance as they slipped back into their shoes. Their face was curled in a pained grimace as they descended the stairs and Levi was watching them closely, one of his hands hovering at their back. Mike looked delighted as they approached, and took great pleasure in offering Hange his hand to help them into the carriage before Levi could. He climbed in and sat beside Hange, leaving Levi to take the seat opposite them. Once they were seated, Erwin knocked on the box, and the driver urged the horses on.

Hange sighed loudly. They kicked off their shoes again, and dumped their feet into Levi's lap.

"Oi," Levi said, though there was no malice behind it. Hange wiggled their toes until Levi closed his hand around Hange's foot, thumb digging into the arch with practiced ease. Hange sighed happily and slumped in their seat.

Mike made a show of sniffing the air, and pulled a face. "Smells weird in here."

"Like what?" Hange asked sluggishly. They had let their eyes drift closed as Levi worked absently on their foot, the buzz from the champagne mellowing in the darkness of the cab.

Mike sniffed again. "Horny teenagers."

Levi's ministrations paused briefly, thumb and fingers stilling until Hange made an impatient sound and lifted their foot, shaking it in his face.

"Fuck off," he hissed, but continued. Hange poked out their tongue and gave him a satisfied grin, then rolled their head towards Mike.

"I think your nose is broken," Hange said. "'S probably just my feet."

"They do reek," Levi added. Hange sunk right the way down in their seat and pushed both feet at Levi's face this time, dodging his grabbing hands and wrestling with him when he caught ahold of them, until he slammed both of their feet back into his lap, victorious, and pinned them down by the ankles. Hange's face was a little flushed from the exertion and their laughter was breathless. Levi looked a little triumphant, eyes alight with something like humour.

Levi was having fun.

Erwin tipped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

"I don't know, Hange," he said, smiling. "I think Mike might be onto something."