reviling | Labyrinthum IC Inbox

Hearing that sigh and feeling Levi's muscles shake beneath his hands makes Finnick rock hard, the reward chemicals pinging through his brain. Seeing, hearing, and feeling the proof of Levi's pleasure is pleasurable in and of itself, especially since the man is normally so reserved and his expression so flat. He makes note of those reactions, and immediately acts on one of those notes, going back to the spot that made Levi shudder and sucking on it a little harder, worrying skin ever so gently between his teeth.

He presses fingers into muscle a bit deeper, and one hand slides down to Levi's ass again and gropes it gently. As their bodies come together, Finnick feels pressure against his cock and fingers tugging on his hair, and he moans softly against Levi's wet skin, open-mouthed. Levi will soon find that Finnick is quite vocal about his own enjoyment, which is partially a learned response from years of being sexualized, and partially just... How he likes to be.

"You can pull," he utters quietly near Levi's ear, referring to his hair. Finnick's scalp is very sensitive, and he loves any kind of touch there.

Levi certainly doesn't need to be told twice. His grip tightens, ever mindful yet of his own strength, and tugs just enough to make it interesting without pulling Finnick away from his neck - because fuck, that feels good. Nails press into his back at the feeling of teeth, still light enough to be pleasurable, and the sound of Finnick's voice curls warmly down his spine.

It's only when their bodies are flush together that he realizes how much he's leaned into the embrace. The hand on his ass seems to have encouraged him closer, and if the additional firmness between them now is any indication...Levi certainly isn't unaffected, although he's not as far along as Finnick. Yet.

At least one more tremble will wend through his shoulders before attention to that spot will begin to be too much - and if Finnick hasn't moved on by then, Levi will tug him away with a more insistent pull of his hair, and seal their lips together again for a more heated kiss.

The tightened grip has him making another soft noise against Levi's neck, and though he was originally planning to move downward to explore his chest, the sensitive spot invites him to linger there and see what else he can coax out of Levi.

The stronger yank makes him gasp audibly, then melt completely into Levi as their lips meet again. Holy fuck. He moans into his mouth with feeling. Finnick is quickly becoming intoxicated by lust, and the tension that had been building in him before things had begun to escalate just makes this all the more intense. His tongue mingles with Levi's, tasting him, and his hips begin to grind his erection into the shorter man's thigh. His real hand scratches lightly down the center of his back, then puts hands on his waist to pull him in further. As their bodies fully press together, he feels the indication of Levi's arousal, which feels like a small accomplishment. The pressure between them now should provide Levi a little stimulation, without Finnick just up and grabbing his dick, in case Levi isn't ready for that yet.

Levi might easily enough start kisses, but he seems to easily yield to Finnick's experience, shuddering at the sensuality of the dance of their tongues, yielding a small noise at the back of his throat. Fuck, the man can put so much into it, and Levi finds himself almost studying the technique, copying movements and rhythm. He breaks, briefly, enough to pull in a breath as he's moved, even just a little. There's a thrill in that - being handled by a larger partner, palms on his waist or his ass. Maybe it's ridiculous, but his body seems all too happy to flush extra heat into his veins as a result.

As he goes back in for more, both hands sink into Finnick's hair, crushing curls in his palms, dragging fingernails over his scalp before just cupping his face, their kisses deep and unhurried, but not slow. Levi is less concerned about finding his own friction as he is about shifting his knee to meet that grinding against his thigh. Curiosity starts to take over, and he wants to feel Finnick in his hand - the size and shape of him, the weight and the heat.

When they break again, Levi sets their foreheads together, noses bumping as he breathes. A moment or two passes before he starts to shift a little, backing off the ledge and bringing Finnick with him.

"Stand up," he mutters, lips still near enough to taste. "Wanna feel this rock hard cock of yours...can't reach."

Finnick's movements are smooth and practiced as he kisses Levi deeply, with a certain edge of greediness. He will take any inch that Levi gives him, savouring every moment, since he knows it could be a while before this happens again.

He loves moving Levi around with his hands, but he also loves it when the older man pulls and orders him around. He's so fucking hot, and yet... Adorable?

Finnick easily moves with Levi to standing, drifting forward until the space between them closes again, bending down so their faces are inches apart, his breaths coming heavy near Levi's ear.

"Please... Feel away," he tries to sound somewhat cool, but it just comes out breathless and pleading.

That's definitely the dichotomy he goes for: hot, yet cute. (It's not, as he doesn't strive to be any particular thing, but it's inevitable, perhaps, given his size). As accustomed as he is to a height difference, it's still mildly irritating to have to choose between kissing and touching, sometimes. But there's still something nice, about tilting his face up toward a lover, to catch or demand their lips, to watch them through his lashes as his hands feel their body, real and warm.

Finnick is beautiful; Levi would think that no matter his shape, but he can't help the primal part of his brain that enjoys the solidity of muscle beneath skin. The uncanny perfection isn't far from his mind, wondering what sort of scars the man would have if they hadn't been erased. His fingertips ghost along his chest, ribs, stomach, imagining what they might have been like - not because he likes the thought of him being hurt or suffering, but because they'd been his; part of his story, a testament to the things he survived.

His hand finally finds what he's after, caressing the shaft with fingertips, rubbing it with the heel of his palm before taking it in a careful grip, giving Finnick a very gentle tug.

"Fuck," he mutters, watching the younger man's face, other hand resting at his hip. "Could fucking break glass with this thing."

No, he can't, doesn't always realize he's doing it (he realizes it right now though).

The funny part is that Finnick has managed to do many things right, moreso than the majority of people, even those not trying to get into his pants. He's attentive and patient and kind, and so many other things that Levi really feels...so at ease in a way he doesn't experience with hardly anyone else.

If he suspects that Finnick might have an issue other than just needing to pee, it doesn't seem to register (possibly he doesn't think that Finnick could be this quickly turned on already-). But he'll find a bin or something to stuff the bloody rags into, and then come back to offer the younger man his hand to help him sit up and eventually scoot off the bed.

"Here. Swing your feet off the side and then lean on me."

Although he could probably carry him.

Levi could definitely carry him, but he's eager to keep what's left of his pride, so he's going to try his best to walk on his own.

He grips Levi's hand with his prosthetic one, pulling himself to sitting with a grunt. He allows his legs to fall over the side of the bed and rises slowly to his feet. His vision clouds for a moment, and he sways slightly, gripping Levi's shoulder. He's unable to feel himself touching Levi because of his fake hand, so he feels like he's floating for a moment, but his vision soon clears and he starts shuffling to the bathroom. Thank god Levi is short, so Finnick doesn't have to lift his arm too much to drape it across his shoulders. He's thankfully at least wearing boxers and isn't completely hard, so it isn't painfully obvious that he was just a little turned on.

Thanks to Levi's healing, walking doesn't cause him much pain, he's just a bit sluggish and weak. Probably due to the blood loss, he figures. His head also throbs a bit now that he's standing, probably for the same reason.

He sits down to pee, just to make things easier. He doesn't mind being mostly nude or pissing in front of Levi; he lost that part of his shame years ago. He exhales with relief as he empties his bladder.

"I should probably drink some more water."

"Ah..." Finnick exhales a soft sound as Levi's hand finally wraps around his shaft. After yearning for Levi for a good month or two, to finally feel his hand there is exciting enough to send sparks along his nerves and a wave of heat up his spine. He intertwines his real fingers into the hair at the back of Levi's head, gripping gently. He takes a breath, trying to steady himself so as not to get carried away. Leaning down, his breathy laugh comes near Levi's ear at his little comment.

"You do very bad things to me, Levi," he growls. Even while still saying silly things, Levi's voice and his curses only stoke the fires of lust burning in his gut. Finnick nips at his ear lightly before lapping gently at the spot on his neck he found earlier. His bionic hand reaches down to grope the smaller man's ass more firmly this time, almost possessive.

Even as Finnick sways, he stays upright, easily taking his weight. If he notices anything strange about the shape of said boxers, Levi doesn't comment on it - so he probably is too focused on getting him safely to the bathroom instead. One arm goes bracingly around Finnick's waist, and he feels warm pressed close as they shuffle there together.

As he pisses, Levi turns his back and steps out a little, just to give him a bit of privacy even if it's not strictly needed.

"Yeah, you should," he agrees over his shoulder. "And eat something. I've got something that should work. I'll get it for you when you're back in bed."

The words make him snort, amused, and he starts to give Finnick's cock a thorough stroking. It changes quickly to a soft hiss, more for the lips at the spot on his throat than anything else, but that hand sends a shiver of arousal up his spine. It isn't so strange to him to be touched with a hand of metal, given that Erwin has something similar, although he usually can't get it wet.

"M'not doin anything," he mutters lightly, tilting his chin skyward, eyes sliding closed. His hand moves from hip to sink into blonde curls again with a soft sigh. "Your cock s'just all excited." And who's to say his own isn't getting there, too? He manages to keep focused, stroking Finnick at a steady rate, feeling his shape and length, and perhaps wonders how it would feel between his thighs.

He lets out another open-mouthed sigh of pleasure at Levi's deft hands working his cock and touching his hair.

"That's the worst part..." he murmurs, a haze of lust making him sound a bit dazed. "You don't have to do anything." Levi drives him mad just by existing in his vicinity. Not that Finnick's cock isn't known to get excited over the littlest things, but with Levi, it's increased tenfold.

His real hand releases Levi's hair, slides down his neck, to his collarbone and chest, and caresses down the older man's dense and scarred abdomen to his hips. Fingertips softly play and tease the skin there, in the divet of his hipbone, moving occasionally toward the base of his cock but not touching it yet.

"... Do you want me to touch you...?" He asks softly. Levi had just told him not to go straight for his cock, so he wants to be mindful of that boundary, but also doesn't want to neglect him.

"Alright," he murmurs, standing up with another grunt. He looks in the bathroom mirror, leaning on the sink. It's dimly lit by fairy-lights, but he can see himself, and isn't fond of the image. He sighs heavily.

"I do look like shit," he grumbles, wetting a cloth in the sink and starting to clean himself up with his 'good' hand.

It's been a few days since Eren returned. In that time Jean has experienced a range of emotions as Eren reacquaints himself: grief, anger, acceptance, love. Eren hasn't forgotten his time, the way others have lost their memories; as he understands it, there's simply too much in Eren's head now, no concept of a future or past itself, that makes it hard for him to navigate his mind.

He assumes Eren has visited Levi. He doesn't know how that went; he didn't ask Eren about the details. He only has his own traumatic experience seeing Eren again to go off of.

He spends the morning baking some apple tarts, a little less sweeter than the recipe calls for. He's found he doesn't like sweet things the way modern people do, or at least those writing his dessert recipes. He packages them up and then makes the short trek from the farm to Levi and Erwin's house.

At the very least, he has some good news to share. He raises his hand and knocks on the door, Mikasa's gifted scarf wrapped around his neck.

That Eren's visited is a safe assumption; since his return, Levi hasn't been back to the farm to help look after Elke as he had after his disappearance. Even before, he would be there frequently, at least a couple times a week, to check on things for the shop, and just generally help with some of the many chores that it takes to keep things going.

Not anymore.

The shop has been open somewhat sporadically, but likewise coinciding with Eren's return, he's begun using it as a distraction and attending it nearly every day. Without extra help, it doesn't open if he's not there. So often, he can't quite stand being alone, these days. It's a perfect solution, really, because interactions are short and brief rather than drawn out. It's easier to get past the ache.

Levi is alone today, unable to put off some of his usual chores any longer. He's cleaning to keep himself busy, giving the living room and kitchen an even more thorough dusting and scrubbing, trying to let his mind rest and not...think about anything.

When the knock comes, he's at once impatient and grateful for the interruption. There's some shuffling inside as he removes his gloves and apron, pulling down the cloth tied over his nose and mouth to let it hang about his neck before opening the door.

There's a quiet look of relief in his eyes when he sees that it's Jean...but also a hint of something else; anticipation or just...a knowing sadness.

But he is glad to see him.

"Hey," he greets, after a beat, eyes taking in the scarf, and then steps back, gesturing vaguely inside "Come in."

"Hello," he offers in way of greeting, taking in the way Levi is dressed. He's noticed the way the shop has been open nearly every day as he's come in to refresh the bakery. It seems now he's catching up on any cleaning he's put off while he was doing that.

Dolph and Maruki's reminders to let himself rest come to mind, but he'll see if he can convince Levi of it. For now, he steps inside, wiping his shoes on the mat outside and then removing them once inside, along with the scarf on a hook nearby.

The house smells like cleaner, small bits of dust floating through the air, to be swept out of open windows later.

He lifts the container in his hands. "Brought you a treat, if you're ready to take a break." And provide the tea goes unsaid.

It's either take a break, or bully Jean into helping. As tempting as it is, he has been at it for a few hours now. Perhaps a break isn't a bad idea. Resting - well, Levi's never been very good at that. Not fighting every day, spending his evenings reading with Erwin - doesn't that count?

It's a small thing, but Levi always appreciates when anyone observes his preferences for how they enter his home. Jean does it every time, of course, but he notices, and he's grateful.

Levi eyes the bag curiously. "A treat, huh." Now it almost seems suspicious as he pulls off the gloves and starts to undo the knot on the apron. "You tryin' to butter me up for something? Go start the kettle and I'll be right over."

He takes a few moments to neatly fold the apron and kerchief near where he'd left off in his cleaning, and steps into completely different slippers before disappearing into the bathroom to scrub his hands.

Finally he joins Jean in the kitchen, pulling out his mug - earthen stoneware in a matte, sage green-glaze, a single thin line of gold about a quarter of the way up. The bottom is the rough, raw clay. A daintier, porcelain cup with saucer joins it on the counter, as he reaches for one of the tins of what he's working through recently - a black lemon tea. There's other selections there, as well as an entire cupboard full of different varieties. Jean likely knows how to help himself by now.

Jean will probably be roped into helping by the end of the visit, and he's perfectly okay with that. For now, he laughs a bit under his breath when Levi asks if he's trying to butter him up.

"I think I'd be a little less obvious if I was trying to," he calls back while Levi removes his cleaning attire. In that time, he sets the container down on the kitchen table, and sets the kettle to boiling after refreshing the water. He lets Levi have first go of the tea, instead finding where he keeps their plates and taking two out, to place them next to the container of tarts.

The tea cupboard is practically overflowing - or Levi's version of it, considering each tea is meticulously labeled and contained if it didn't come in its own box. Jean selects a variety that uses bergamot oil, setting it aside next to the mug that is 'his', and moving back to the table.

"They're apple tarts. I'm trying to tweak the recipe a little, since they're too sweet for me." And probably for most of the rest of them.

It's definitely Jean's mug, because Levi doesn't let anyone else use it, and also his name might be painted in similar gold glaze on the handle. There's another cup in the cupboard that's clearly for Eren. It hasn't been touched in weeks, but it's still there, in the spot it always is.

Mugs prepped while the kettle continues to heat, he wanders back over to the table next to Jean, interest clearly piqued at "apple tart". Autumn really is the best time of year - so many apples, and now with multiple people with lots of time to bake, he's truly getting spoiled this season.

"Hm," he hums, feigning nonchalance even as he surveys the tarts. Jean really has been doing well with all of his efforts lately; not a day goes by at the shop where someone doesn't praise the pastries. Picking one up, he takes a careful bite, hand cupped underneath to catch stray crumbs. Despite himself, there's a little jump of dark brows at the taste.

He licks his lips slowly after swallowing, as if contemplating his answer.

"Yeah," he says finally. "Not bad." Translation: pretty damn good. "Could even go a little less if you wanted, but the people who put an assload of honey into their tea might not like it."

...He takes another bite, pleased.

It's heady, the way Finnick touches him. Arousing, yes, even he recognizes that. But there's an almost reverent care in it as well, thoughtful as well as eager. Restrained, because that's what he'd asked. More than anything, that's what makes Levi feel acknowledged, that this isn't just about fucking. Of course he knows that it isn't, or at least he thinks he does. Part of him can't help a little bit of doubt and uncertainty, a lingering paranoia that will only be overcome with time. As well as they seem to understand one another so quickly, it takes more than a month to really know a person. Being swept up like this is a new experience.

Finnick asks for permission, and Levi feels a swirling mixture of gratitude and disbelief. He swallows, feeling heat on the back of his neck as he continues to stroke the younger man's dick with a firm touch.

"...not yet," he answers just as quietly. The whispering doubts aren't at all the reason why he declines, though, but rather because his first impulse had been to say yes. As though to make up for it, he presses a brief kiss to the edge of Finnick's lips, nips lightly at his jaw.

"You first. N' tell me when you're close..."

"You went through shit. Makes sense." It's hardly a judgment, after all. Hearing the water run, he glances back over his shoulder before turning back around, watching Finnick for a moment or two, debating on whether or not to offer to help. He's long been in the habit with Erwin to not assume he wants assistance with every little thing, and has to believe Finnick is much the same way. But he also knows that soldiers and people who are used to doing everything on their own often hate or forget to ask for help; he's much the same way, after all.

He also doesn't want to wander away only for Finnick fall on the floor.

"...let me know if you want an extra hand," Levi offers from the doorway. It's not intended to be funny necessarily, but he'll be there whenever the other man is ready to shuffle back to bed - except that he'll deposit Finnick carefully in a chair with a glass of water to sip at while he strips the dirty sheets off the bed and lay down fresh ones. Only then will he permit him to get back in.

Reverence is an apt word for Finnick's feelings toward Levi's body. This is the body of someone he cares for deeply, so he will treat it with that same care. It's how he would want to be handled, not that he's always had much luck in that regard, but a guy can dream.

"Okay." Finnick exhales the word, hardly a whisper. He doesn't mind being told no; in fact, in this case it's quite the opposite. Asking and being told a direct answer takes the onus off of him to guess. He feels like he's just been given permission to stop worrying about what he should or shouldn't do to please Levi and just be in the moment. His hand stops teasing Levi's hip and grips it instead, as though planting it for stability there. His eyes flutter closed as he falls forward slightly into Levi, hanging his head in the slope of the shorter man's neck. He relaxes into his own pleasure, Levi's firm grip coaxing heavy, shaking breaths from him, breaths that escalate into moans.

"Oh... Fuck, Levi..." He mutters, heat rising up his own spine.

He rubs the cloth on his face and behind his ears, but the metal hand doesn't feel very nice, and isn't as effective at such a task. It's rarely as effective as a real hand at anything, except it is a bit stronger.

"If it's one of yours, I'd welcome it," he mutters, definitely not inclined to ask for help but not willing to refuse it either, especially when it involves Levi touching him.

The easy acceptance of his answer is just as lightening for him - he won't have to worry that Finnick will continue to try, won't have to continually reject him. It's easier to think about one thing at a time when it comes to this, and when the other man just leans into him, that makes his heart skip a little in his chest. The moment becomes all the more intimate, as he feels like a pillar holding him up, leaning cheek to temple. Those little sounds released softly against his skin and the sound of his name sends sweet prickling down his spine, and just like that Levi can let go of himself and concentrate entirely on Finnick.

As always whenever those curls come within easy reach, he slides his unoccupied hand into dirty blonde hair, holding him close as he continues to stroke and palm his erection. Something seems to shift, and he finds himself slowing a little, experimenting more, fingers tracing and exploring, reaching down farther to fondle delicate sacs. Levi listens to Finnick's little sounds and adjusts his touch accordingly, focused and very much intent on learning him rather than just getting him off.

"You like that, huh?" he nearly whispers back, voice low and husky, after getting what seems like an especially favorable reaction to a particular touch, and slowly does it again.

"Lucky for you, I've got two." There's enough deadpan in his tone that it's likely that is meant to be funny. But without any further ado or especial fussing, Levi sets the cover over the toilet (using a bit of toilet paper so that he doesn't have to actually touch it), and then a towel over that before ushering Finnick to sit and taking the cloth from him. He takes a minute to wash his hands, and then lets the cloth soak up some warm water before wringing it out again. A step brings him back over, standing between his legs.

Finnick had already done his face, but Levi starts there again anyway. Nudging his chin upward, gray eyes linger on aquamarine, and it's a little like looking at the sea on a bright, cloudless day. It's not hard to see how tired he is yet. Really, the man could do with a proper bath, but it's not possible yet with some of those wounds yet healing. This will have to do.

"Let me know if it's too hot," he mumbles before starting. Perhaps surprisingly, he's gentle - but there's yet a thoroughness and a method to his movements, ensuring he can clean as much skin as he can reach. One hand cleans, the other carefully guides Finnick to move his head from side to side, chin up and down. There's tenderness in the way his touch lingers, tracing softly over an eyebrow or along a cheekbone, moving over a scar on his throat.

Erasing scars, as though they could erase the horrors they'd inflicted on him.

He sets the thought aside, moving the cloth to trace over the curve of one shoulder, then the other, before stepping back to the sink to rinse and wring. The arm comes next, and Levi starts with Finnick's hand, wiping down the palm, then each finger, cleaning under the nail and around the nailbed. Even in these moments of focus, he flicks his gaze towards Finnick's face every so often, to check for signs of pain, or if holding himself upright is getting to be too much.

"...you have nice hands," he says quietly, before moving on to his upper arm. At least he's got one left.

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sorry about the wait lovely <3

no worries! <3

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action; after eren's return + dolphdate

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so so sorry it's been forever ;;

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no worries bb <3

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