Levi lifts the silver and jade pipe to his lips again, but Erwin stops him, encircling his fingers around Levi’s slim wrist to pull the pipe up to his own mouth. He’s careful to touch only the polished stone mouthpiece as he inhales the smoke into his useless lungs. He maintains eye contact with Levi as he blows the smoke out in a perfect ring that dissipates on the apples of Levi’s cheeks. “Unpredictability.” He says. “A good hunter should always keep their prey on their toes.” Levi licks his lips, eyes glassy. “Would you say I’m a good hunter, then?” “You’ve certainly defied my expectations so far,” Erwin answers, honestly. “Yeah?” Levi asks, shifting to press up against Erwin’s side. The smell of rich tea laced with addictive iron infiltrates Erwin’s senses—warm, alive. Erwin can’t help but to inhale a breath he doesn’t need. Levi slings the arm holding the pipe around Erwin’s neck, keeping him close. And then he presses the tip of a blade to Erwin’s chest. Erwin sighs. “Ah, now this is predictable. Always prepared.” When Levi doesn’t move to finish the job, Erwin grabs his wrist. “What are you waiting for?” Something shifts in Levi’s eyes, but before Erwin can even begin to decipher it Levi drops the blade between them, instead filling his hand with the collar of Erwin’s shirt to pull him down and slot their lips together. Levi kisses with his teeth, biting at Erwin’s bottom lip. It’s anything but elegant. It’s the last thing Erwin expected him to do and yet the kiss screams of Levi—quick as a viper, all at once bold and fluid. Erwin is unable to keep from pulling him closer, and as soon as his icy fingers make contact with the warm skin of Levi’s exposed knee, Erwin realizes he’s lost—that he wouldn’t mind in the slightest if this were how he met his demise. He is alive for the first time in centuries, high on the scent of opium smoke and bergamot and cedar, drowning in a fog of want, of an incurable desire for more. His fangs drop, razor sharp against Levi’s lip, fully prepared to follow Levi’s lead to pierce his skin and taste the sweet blood that’s colored Levi’s face in such a beautiful flush. Levi clutches at his hair and Erwin’s hand slides upwards, hiking Levi’s skirts up further, clutching at the skin of his inner thigh— —as Levi clutches at his hair with the silver pipe pressed to the exposed flesh of Erwin’s neck. The silver burns, scorching hot—hotter than a cattle brand. Erwin’s fingers press bruises into Levi’s thigh as he reels backwards out of the kiss, leaving a wet string of saliva stretching between them like spun sugar. Levi hisses at the rough touch, as if the pain has brought them both to their senses. “Fuck.” He whispers. The pipe trembles in his shaking hands. "Fuck.”
This fic was born thanks to a prompt submitted to the AOT Gotcha for Gaza Fundraiser. The moment I read it, I knew I HAD to write it. My vampire-loving-ass NEEDED to claim this prompt and go exuberantly over the top with it.
I've gone so over the top that I've managed to not only wrangle @ic3que3n into it as my beta, but also @abatarperso (who specifically helped with the French) and @leverwings (who is the most intense and wonderful beta I have ever had the pleasure of working with)
But if you thought I'd stop there, you'd be dead wrong. This fic also includes FANART by @leverwings (chapter 2) and @solarfry (chapter 4)
Read "Mon Sang // Mon Amour // Mon Malin" here on AO3
Rating, Tags, and Summary Beneath the Cut ✂
