A Hole in Reality

Untitled Part 5

A/N: Amazing Levi art by the wonderful 

       "Oi."

"OI!"

He slides out from under the Charger with a mildly annoyed look. You're on your phone and have your back turned. Plus, the radio is turned up quite loud.

You turn and look at him, eyes widening.

"Gotta go." You snap your phone closed. It's not that he caught you gabbing on the phone that's got you frazzled. It's the sight of his shirtless torso, swiped with grease from working on the car. He looks so hot right now, you kind of want to cry.

"Sorry, Levi. Did you want something?"

Oh, he wants something alright. It's just, how does he tell you? Before you turned around, he was quite enjoying the view of your backside. There's a tiny smudge of grease on your calf, accentuating the sleek muscles and he enjoys the slight feeling of heat it causes. That image is going to be his pick-me-up for days to come. Until the next time you do something sexy, which for him interprets into you just basically breathing.

How the fuck does he tell you all this?

He shakes his head and walks over to you, grabbing his shirt and putting it on as he goes.

"I was trying to ask you for a pair of channel locks, but you were too busy bullshitting. Any sign of my friends?", he asks and grabs an energy drink from the cooler. He's damn near forsaken tea, only drinking it late at night to unwind.

You hop up to sit on your workbench and it puts his face at chest-level.

'Fucking tease.', he thinks with a smirk.

"FN thinks she might have seen Hanji but wasn't entirely sure. The lady's hair was cut in a wavy bob, and she had sunglasses on."

"Doesn't sound like her."

"Well, she could have cut her hair and glasses for a disguise, you know? Kinda like you saying you want to dye your hair blonde." You kick out at him with a teasing grin, and he steps closer, resting his hands on your upper thighs.

"Admit it, YN. I'd be sexy as fuck with blonde hair."

"You're already sexy as fuck, Levi."

Now it's his turn to grin and he pulls you down off the bench, chest pressed against yours.

"Sorry, YN. It's a little loud in here. Did you just say you want to fuck?"

You slap his chest and push away.

"Pervert. A shower would be nice, though."

"Together? Now, who's the pervert, YN?"

"Still you. You have your own shower."

"I'm going to scrub that nasty blob of grease off your leg." He slaps your rear and then dodges your hit back with a devilish grin.

"What about you? I've never seen a man so filthy."

"Filthy and fine. Don't you forget it. And you can do the honors of scrubbing me up if you'd like."

"You know Levi", you have just reached your bedroom door and look back at him. "You are nothing like I imagined you to be." His smile melts away at the statement and you wonder curiously why it had affected him so. "I have to say I like it."

His smile comes back then as you close your door, albeit faltering. How is it you know so much; he wonders as he strips off his clothes and turns the water on. He's thought about asking you but is kind of afraid of the answer. He doesn't know why, he just is. A fear just as irrational as his fear of making a move on you.

One thing he learned over the years is that to stay alive you have to be observant of everything around you, no matter how irrelevant it is. This is largely why he's so quiet. He's taking in everything going on and being said around him.

Therefore, he's not an ignorant man, despite what people may think. Poor Levi couldn't flirt his way out of a wet paper bag. Actually, quite wrong. Growing up in a brothel, his time on the streets, and being subjected to horny cadet conversations day in and day out, he's probably the most experienced inexperienced man behind the walls.

He knows flirting and understands courtship quite well. He's just never had the desire for it. Until now, that is. Alright, desire yes; personal interest, no. You moved him from the very moment he laid eyes on you, and it surprised him. Pleasantly so.

Despite this, a deep-seated fear of rejection clouds every attempt to flirt with you. He still can't help doing it though, he's always been the type that pushes through the fear, and he enjoys your response to it.

The way you flirt back makes him feel like all but bursting with excitement. So, fuck that irrational fear. One of these days he is going to kiss you, damn it. One of these days he's going to take the chance he's thankful this world has given him.

"When are we going driving again?"

He runs down the stairs, giving you a wink. He's just in a towel and knows exactly how you'll respond. It's a never-ending battle, with him teasing you with the view and you pretending to try and steal his towel.

Except this time, you do manage to hook his towel and you both shout out a surprised "Oh shit!" before you laugh maniacally and dash up the stairs.

"Damn it YN, get back here with my towel!"

He's after you in a flash and catches up just before you can close your bedroom door. The sudden rebound of the door flying open puts you off-balance, and you stumble forward. He grabs you around the waist and you both stumble awkwardly to the bed.

And now an awkward staring match, with both of you blushing heavily, commences. You're never quite sure how to interpret that look he gives, tender yet intense at the same time. It always leaves you feeling flustered and wanting to squirm out from his gaze in a hurry. Yet, you can't help the subtle parting of your lips as he leans in closer. You can't help your hands as they reach up to clasp his neck. The slight groan he utters at your touch causes you to shiver with excitement. His tongue, parting your lips further as he covers your mouth with his.

He's up and gone, carrying his towel with him.