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he enlisted for four years. & some of it was hell. some of it was being young in hell. some of it was growing & sharing youth with people that he felt as though he had known forever — -

he got lucky with nile. or else he got grossly unlucky. nile had known him once as a child. before the worst had happened & he instigated bits & pieces of his family's ruin. but they went to school together & nile named him insufferable & they had been insufferable in the way that children stuck together ( by parental necessity ) are always insufferable & then

that had ended. erwin moved because his father’s contract relocated him every few years, & there was no goodbye. there was nothing heartfelt. there was no need for any of that.

mostly, there were just insignificant things – forgotten until ten years later ( more or less. mostly less. ) when erwin had moved back into the area, when he fell into service, when he thought that nile looked more familiar than he should, when he recognized nile's name & realized belatedly that

even as a child, nile had spoken about enlisting. erwin supposes he shouldn’t have been surprised — except he doesn’t believe in coincidences, & the timing just was too . . . awkward.

it had been awkward knowing nile again. it’s difficult for erwin to be in a place where anyone remembers him differently than who he is presently. it’s difficult for erwin not to overthink in stupid ways sometimes & rethink them again. he doesn’t hesitate to make decisions ( there isn’t the time ) but he always thinks in three hundred - sixty ways until he feels prepared, until he has his points stuck in cement.

it’s another way of seeking control. making control through preparations. equipping himself to make decisions faster.

he enlisted for four years. & some of it was hell. some of it was being young in hell. some of it was growing & sharing youth with people that he felt as though he had known forever — -

so he had known nile forever. sort of. but it felt like forever when they went to the bar popular with the kids in service. then they knocked beers & zacharias made himself a staple in erwin’s life & for a second, it had been easy to imagine that life exists in the moment. that people laugh in the moment & drink in the moment & that there is no greater meaning than pressing shoulders at a bar booth with new types of family —

it had been shared gossiped moments about hey ? you saw her wink at me ? the bartender ? that wasn’t for you. idiot. that was for the whole table. no ! that was for me. i swear. let him be hopeful. he’s never going to get anywhere, so he might as well be hopeful. you’re such a fucking asshole -

raucous laughter. but then shared cigarettes outside the bar with the bartender. & a friendship made between the regulars. & then coincidental meetings no longer coincidental outside of the bar, outside of work hours.

there had been a few parties. a few smiles close enough during a dance that they felt like kisses.

for a second, it had been easy to imagine that loving would be that easy. that he could live that kind of love.

then, of course, he felt a stronger draw to information divulged at work. he felt hungry at the prospect of an accomplishment he hadn’t yet managed, & it had been so easy to cast aside a maybe-love that he realized he was worse than he had thought.

he helped nile write love letters.

then six months later he was smoking cigarettes in bed with bryn’s mother. their feet tangled beneath the sheets, & they confessed to the ceiling with deprecating laughter that they were both much too cruel for this, but at least the sex was good, that there were things that they wanted to accomplish before their time was up. there were things that needed to happen in the next few years. there were things that they would not tell each other — & then they delighted in the knowledge that they kept secrets, that they built their sardonic little thing with each another around a grey area of honesty that

casual domesticities of tangled feet & shared cigarettes & arguments over the bathroom would never be their priority. they have morbid curiosity, & it’s a contagion on their souls.

they never ventured to live together. they had never been like that. they always knew that they would learn to hate each other or grow indifferent if they did live together —

they never ventured to live together, but they still managed to argue in the kitchen. they ventured into shared breakfasts — erwin rinsing berries while she fried eggs, & they argued about work, about snoring, about things that didn't matter.

she’s a friend. mostly.

she’s like him. mostly.

she was pregnant, & she found out late — & then it’s a mess of not having known, how could she not know & erwin hadn’t been at his best. she had been terrified & angry. she had been caught between self-blame & blaming erwin. when she poured her coffee & a cup for erwin, her hand shook so badly that she dropped the pot. then there was hot coffee at her feet, in her slippers. there were shards of glass on the floor, & it had petrified him.

since then & since bryn’s birth, they spent a lot of time in kitchens. the intimacy & laughs died fast because they started pointing out lists of love & obligations as though they were bullet shot — fast & mess & steel & determined.

since bryn’s birth, they had something that they could lose. it terrified them both.

& it’s not that she hadn’t wanted bryn. erwin has watched the mother love her child defiantly, heartily, with surprise. he has watched her defiant in the fact that she had wanted bryn, that she had wanted her career too.

it was not bryn & the mother that were incompatible. it was erwin & the mother who couldn’t twist their lives priorities to fit their a third variable.

one day, erwin supposes that bryn’s mother will return to country. that a matter of custody will open again. at that time, he will have to be open to conversation.

but it is what it is.

bryn had been born. only then did erwin & the mother try to live together. briefly. to split schedules & feeding schedules & time off.

that had been the last time he sat in someone else’s kitchen — kicking his feet out to stretch them a little more & ignoring that the furniture is uncomfortable. he kicks his legs out, presses his feet to the wall, & stretches just enough that he can pretend his joints don’t ache — that something sore doesn’t start to radiate to his shoulder when he sits too long in an uncomfortable position.

to be fair, the stool on which erwin sits probably is set for a person much shorter than him.

erwin finds that he quite likes the height.

so he savors a mesh of flavor on his tongue — melted cheese & butter & warmth & pastry. it stands out more than the catering to the afterschool event with grapes & crackers. children are picky eaters. erwin knows this. he knows this. simple usually fits better, so he imagines that it would be more . . . bizarre if the catering to a children’s event were particularly complex.

but here he sits, feeling juvenile as he kicks out his legs & savoring something home-cooked, feeling catered to.

he watches levi agree, talk about the marketing, the competitors.

it makes him close his eyes for a minute. he steps into another version of himself momentarily so that he might offer something more productive —

‘ you don’t need a different flavor profile. you need an environment. you need product that feels warm to your customers, & this fits well. it's good. ‘

see, he says. he can talk business too. he can talk politics & marketing & he has a twisted need sometimes to emphasize that he can talk in whatever language he needs.

except he speaks too soon. he speaks before he can watch defenses hackle & raise at levi’s shoulders — before he can watch the way that levi conjures a defensive dagger at his tongue to keep erwin at a distance.

erwin watches levi tick hurts & insecurities off his fingers. he files it away for his keeping, for future consideration. he tsks his tongue regardless, & he admits a little too loosely —

‘ i was asking after your intentions in inviting me here. your intention was a little forward, so i hoped to be forward in turn. i appreciate the invitation. ‘

the words sound stilted on his tongue, & he almost laughs at himself. it’s been a while since he has sat in another person’s kitchen.

he finds levi’s bitterness charming.

‘ whoever told you that you’re a lowly tea boy has incredibly dated language. you’ll have to find some cleverer critics, levi. if you’d like me to be honest about your business venture, i think you’ll have to be pointed with marketing to your customers. i think you’ve made me two delicious pastries, that you’ve got a promising location, & you’ve got as good a chance as anyone. it’s your first business, yes ? ‘

he’s good with lies. he’s good with honesty offered like little lectures, like impersonal things.

erwin settles forwards to prop his elbow on the table, to drop his chin into his hand.

‘ most successful business owners won’t hesitate to tell you how they worked from nothing, failed a few times, & learned from it. i think you’ve got as good a chance as anyone. ‘

he finds levi’s bitterness charming. he finds the awkwardness charming.

it puts him a little more at ease. reminds him that the stakes are not yet high.

the perishables have been stowed away in the refrigerator back home, & erwin watches a pretty man fumble for words.

‘ i drink tea, ‘ he confirms & soothes. he does a poor job of disguising the note of amusement that tips his voice into something warm. ‘ not to your standards, i’m sure. you can choose for me. i’m sure i will like it. ‘

& despite all of this — he can’t help but press his finger against a bruise. to point out the things that make him curious.

‘ you don’t do this often. ‘

it's strange to have someone else in his kitchen that isn't farlan or isabel or even eren when he begs levi to let him pick up a shift, that he needs something more, that he wants to make his own money. apparently sometimes daddy can't buy it all, & he admires the kid for that. admires that he gives a shit beyond everything else & wants to make his own way. it gives him more appreciation for him than he has for his brother, even though they had dated. he knows too well what comes with that asshole & all his fake promises –– he makes a good politician. he has a horrible poker face but is great at lying. it's one of his more frustrating attributes that brought the relationship to a spiraling halt before it could fully blossom into anything promising. farlan hadn't been devastated –– isabel had offered to throw eggs at his house & tell the world that he was sleeping with her & that she was pregnant with his child.

the last time someone else had been in his kitchen had been zeke, though. it had been a rainy day & the cafe was still in its little insurgency of being made. he had been testing out recipes in the back, mumbling to himself about the things he would need, how many would look like a good menu –– truthfully, he would've been fine with just selling tea, but he had business advice & tea wasn't going to cut it. so he had branched into a few recipes that he had perfected over the years of boredom & being on his own at home, food network droning on in the background to fill the house with something other than silence.

zeke had been there, tapping his fingers against the large metal table that was used for mixing ingredients, rolling it out, etc. boredom was written across his face with every single huff of his breath & every push of his glasses up his nose. his eyes had glanced around, foot tapping impatiently; they'd been there for two hours & they had done nothing but sit around. when levi had finally presented him with something from the oven, one of the rare recipes he had gotten from his mother ( a chocolate chip recipe that involved a good handful of sea salt on the top to off set the flavor ), zeke had taken a quick bite, frowned, & told him acutely that it was awful. that he needed something better than a simple cookie that would make him stick out among the other hipster venues around the area. that he would sink in an area full of absolute sharks because his cookie hadn't been good enough.

he had proceeded to go on & tell him that he should take cooking classes at the local academy, apply for some sort of funding, & that he could actually make something of himself. levi had stared at him for a solid two minutes, silent, before he had promptly grabbed his coat, told him to get the fuck out, & stormed off to his own car. zeke had trailed after him like a lost puppy. levi hadn't felt bad when he splashed water from a puddle on him on the way out.

it occurs to him now how strange & personal it is to have erwin in his kitchen. he hadn't thought it over in the grocery store line; he had been driven on impulse, that need to push himself forward & do something spontaneous for a change. when he had extended the offer, he hadn't actually thought he would accept, either. the truth of the matter is, is that no matter how handsome that erwin may look, he has a child. a child that will dictate his entire life, including who he dates, who he fancies, whatever entails. & he doesn't blame him for that –– it makes him a good father.

but it settles into his stomach & chest that he has done something foolish. even the snide remark about groceries being put away back at his home –– he had a chance to have an out, & yet erwin had driven here. he had happily entered & now is balancing on the stool that levi knows is uncomfortable. he hasn't complained once. he has sat to himself & observed around him, but has never once launched into a giant rant about how long things were taking or how horrendous the building looked, or how he expected something different. something more.

it makes him feel off kilter in a way that he isn't sure he's felt before. it makes him feel itchy, makes his stomach twist up in knots, makes his chest feel uncomfortably tight. erwin is an intrusion in his space, but he doesn't feel like one. he feels like he belongs in that stool –– & that scares levi more than anything else.

there's a certain line that he had promised himself that he wouldn't cross. he had promised farlan he wouldn't cross it, either: dating one of the parents of the kids that he watches is off limits. levi had full on laughed when farlan had stated it the one day –– like levi would ever be interested in anyone who had a kid, let alone anyone in general. most of the kids had a full set of parents, anyway –– not that he has anything against single parents, as his mother had been one. he would just much rather not be the homewrecker.

he hadn't even been looking, truthfully. he had begun hanging out there while the store was remodeled & it came a month or so after his break up with zeke –– it was a good distraction. you can't exactly focus on your ex when a child is running at you with sticky hands & melted gummy bears & you're climbing up in your chair to avoid being touched by them.

erwin is good looking, he's not going to turn around & lie about that. somehow, him having a child hasn't put levi off like he thought it would. but there's also that biting whisper in the back of his head telling him not to get involved. that this isn't a good thing that's meant to last. that erwin has a child & levi shouldn't get involved in this –– what does levi know about raising a child? he has a single mother who still breaks down crying when she drinks too much & cups his cheeks & apologizes to him for the things that she's done. he has a father who isn't in his life, who he doubts that his mother even knows. that is energy you just don't bring around a child, no matter what family circumstance erwin has going for them.

but as he teeters onto his heels & back to his toes, he realizes that he's holding his breath. that he's actually wanting erwin's opinion on something –– normally he doesn't care. he'll put out what he likes & let the food sales speak for themselves. that's how he adjusts the menu normally. but he finds that he's actually scared to hear that erwin doesn't like it. that he has failed in something so simple as getting his attention with a fucking pastry.

levi doesn't know when this has become his life. he doesn't know when he started caring what someone thought just because they were taller than normal & blonde with eyes that are far too bright & too dark to really be comfortable with.

but then erwin's eyes open & levi feels his throat close with just how into it he looks. he feels a flush go across his cheeks at the confirmation –– that he has picked well when it comes to a meshing of flavors. he has done well with the ingredients that he has picked out –– all the while erwin had followed him & they had noncommittal small talk; something else levi hates with a passion. he hates that he feels flushed with the simple praise of it.

farlan had told him that zeke did a number on him but he hadn't believed him until now.

he clears his throat a little awkwardly, shifting on his feet before he nods & breaks off a piece of his own to taste. it melts on his tongue –– the cheese is the perfect offset with the soft spice that coats it afterward. not too hot, but just a kick that is melting into more flavors. it makes his own mouth water & he lets out a little noise of appreciation as he swallows.

〝 for sure on the menu. i think it'll be a different flavor profile than what the others around here have. 〞 not that that totally matters; he almost flinches when he says it, sounds too close to zeke to feel comfortable with it. so he busies himself with leaning over the table & scribbling in the margins of his notes that look like an absolute disaster.

eyes flick up at erwin's question, slowly narrowing a bit. he looks far too entertained & smug in that stool of his. it makes him want to kick it out from underneath him just to prove a point, just to prove that he can.

〝 why, are you aiming to tell me that this joint is a total crap shoot & will never make any money? because i've heard that one before. 〞 he ticks it off on his fingers, holding them up one by one. 〝 or maybe that my flavors are too ambitious. that i'm trying to act like a five star chef when i'm just a lowly tea boy. or maybe, just maybe, that i could do better than something so frivolous with my time. 〞

an eyebrow raises in erwin's direction, settles the ball in his court. he knows he has no reason to bristle like he's doing –– there's the ghost of that asshole in this room & it's oppressing him. he lets out a slow breath, eyes averting.

〝 sorry, force of habit. 〞 he awkwardly clears his throat & turns to the stove, pouring out water over sieves of tea leaves, letting them steep without ever tainting the liquid underneath. it's a trick his mother had taught him. her hourglass settles above the stove top, on a metal shelf so that it reminds him of her, reminds him of home.

tongue presses against the side of his cheek for a moment as he crosses his arms against his chest. 〝 do you want sugar or lemon or anything? do you even drink tea? 〞 things that he should've considered –– things that he should've thought through. that red starts to tinge his cheeks again & he averts his gaze as he lets out a breath through his nose.

he's not good at this. he's horrendous.