Levi’s lips twitch at that response, so callous and daring and brave…and foolish, and he unfolds his arms to grab hold of his bunk and swing himself back up. Brushing his feet together to remove what little dirt might have accumulated in the fibers, he tucks himself beneath the covers to consider what the morning might bring his new cell mate. Have the others learned from their last attempt? Or will Eren become another victim in the struggle for control? He’ll have Gunther follow the boy, see what mischief the brat attracts. Though he is half tempted to let the hot head slumbering below experience first hand what its like to be new in a maximum security prison like this. Maybe that will scare him enough for him to seek refuge within his fold. Or it could backfire. Cause more problems than it solves. Either way, there’s no point in him fretting over tomorrow’s events when it hasn’t even arrived yet. For now, he’s tired and he intends to sleep. Come morning, the place is noisier than it has been in months and Levi startles awake, heart pounding, head throbbing. This is it. Breakfast. When Eren is released into gen pop and the rivals get a good look. The deciding moment in whether Eren survives or thrives. Silently, he pulls back the cover tucked tightly around him and drops to the floor at the foot of the bed. A quick glance down determines whether or not his cell mate is awake.
erengh:
Last night he’d talked tough. Last night things had seemed a hell of a lot more promising.
This morning changes all of that in a hurry.
With the lights turned on, Eren realizes there are a lot more large, downright scary guys than he’d first assumed. He’s an idiot for hoping for consequences less than dire than the hand he’s been dealt after getting himself locked up in a place like this.
He rolls out of bed after Corporal hops out of bed, light on his feet as always. The morning reveals narrow grey eyes and a shockingly pretty face - well, pretty given where they are and who they’re surrounded by (salivating thugs and scar faced criminals, mostly). He’s got the delicate features of an aristocrat, and his body is all compact muscle and marble smooth skin. He’s pale, black hair a striking contrast against the pallor of his neck and face; Eren wonders if it’s from not being out in the sun enough, or if it’s his natural complexion.
One thing is for sure. There is no way in hell this pint-sized pretty boy is formidable enough to protect his ass. Hell, the guy probably has enough to deal with himself. Eren would guess he has to beat men off with a stick. If anything, he’s probably already settled with some hulking prison husband who fucks him good and long. But not Eren. The last time he called anyone daddy was was when he was seven, and there’s no way in hell that is changing now.
They stand side by side at the door of their cell for the standard procedure roll call, and shoulder to shoulder Eren can see that Corporal is indeed a good deal shorter than him. He thinks about striking up a conversation to try and ease the anxiety twisting his stomach in knots, but doesn’t want to seem weak. He’s not here to make friends anyway.
Ultimately Eren has no choice but to follow Corporal to the cafeteria like a lost puppy, and as humiliating as it is he feels safer in numbers. He gets in line with a clean tray, and that’s when it begins. The leering looks from all around suggest he’s the freshest thing on the menu, and Eren grimaces. Still, he stands tall and manages a glower when the guy behind him gropes his ass through the unattractive orange pants of his jumpsuit, lips pulled into a scowl baring teeth and green eyes lit with indignation and a clear back-the-fuck-off.
The ass-groper has the nerve to chuckle like his anger is cute, and Eren would strangle him if he wasn’t busy getting mysterious and flavorless looking food scooped onto his tray before being ushered along with the flow of the crowd.
Assuming that Levi hadn't seen the interaction would be a mistake. Nothing escapes his notice here. Not even the cafeteria man who normally works weekends standing before him now. So when Eren's ass is unceremoniously grabbed, Levi merely watches and stores the information away. Jacob, no known affiliates, quiet guy, does business with other prisoners only to obtain a new boy toy. Wrecks them within the month he purchases them. He's never kept one longer than thirty days and if he has his eyes on Eren, its only a matter of time before he's beaten into submission and forced to service the highest bidder.
Still, the man accepts his tasteless muck called food and breaks away from the cafeteria line to settle in with his group, nodding to Gunther who makes it a point to scan the open area for the signs that someone's already making the purchase.
Levi eats peacefully, less worried than he had been the night before. If something happens today, he'll know about it and have the chance to stifle the inevitable surge of demanding customers. As per the usual, he tucks his brownie away in his pocket and rises, locates Eren briefly, and exits the cafeteria mob to sidle along the wall and hand over his dessert to a certain guard. A brief chat later and he's returning just in time to fetch his tray and deposit it with the rest of the throng.
Erd and Gunther flank him as the mass of orange bodies are herded out into the yard and scattered into their respective gangs. Levi has long since claimed the bleachers and by extension, the basketball court just a few feet beyond, but his easy alliance with a few affiliates earns him income every day they use it. Not like he'll play any time soon, its much too hot out for him and sitting all day in sweat until the showers before lights out isn't exactly his idea of a good time. Cautiously, he perches on the highest bench and scans the yard for signs of his little trouble-making cell mate.
