Ereri smut

mars, god of war

Written by: popsky

Summary:

"We can debate with as many people as we want. The reality remains someone has to fuck a knot in him."

(or: Levi kicking the shit out of Eren triggered the brat's first heat and now they have to deal with it before it's too late.)

_______________________________

Levi has been a soldier long enough to know that if things are due to happen, they'll either happen immediately or when you least expect them to, having lowered your guard and forgotten all about the possibility. This is the law of most damage, a law that governs Levi's life within the Survey Corps, chased him since birth until the impending misfortune gives him comfort, not anxiety.

It's Eren's first night at the headquarters so naturally things happen.

Levi's awake, frowning at the dust flittering before his eyes and cursing the idiot for not cleaning up properly when there's a knock, Gunther, who had the first shift watching over the nuisance. He lingers by the door, sweating through his white shirt.

"Captain," he says solemnly, and Levi shoves his hair back, sighs and pulls up his boots. He doesn't need to hear more.

❧

This late at night most titans are inactive. Eren isn't most titans so Levi doesn't know what to brace for, following Gunther downstairs. A titan trapped in the basement might have solicited a more urgent response but Gunther isn't panicked, embarrassed, maybe, deeply, but not afraid.

"What is it?" Levi asks since Gunther doesn't seem keen on briefing him. He gets his reply the moment the heavy door leading to the basement drags open, releasing a thick stench that's almost physical in its intensity.

Levi gags, recoiling, and covers his nose. "Did he die down there?"

"No, but he sure sounds like it," Gunther responds, used to the foul smell, judging by his lack of reaction, but unused to the howling echoing up the brick walls, sharp and high-pitched, unmistakably Eren. He's crying and not in a miss-home kind of way, over dead friends or vivid nightmares, things Levi is practiced in ignoring, training new recruits. Pure, animal wailing, like a creature with its leg caught in a trap that knows it's going to die and argues god otherwise.

"Is he..." Titan? Levi thinks to ask before the initial odor subsides, leaving behind something sweet and cloying, a scent he can't quite place though it's Eren at its core, his edged, awkward way of relating, forceful in its familiarity, making you adore him. The same migraine-inducing fruitiness that Levi dealt with all morning, now changed, evolved.

Levi doesn't need his pants to tighten to know Eren's presenting. "He's in heat," he says. Deep heat from what it sounds like, a level of heat not possible in a day.

Gunther shrugs, palming his neck. "That's what I thought, too, but I—I didn't check."

With the right context, Levi can see his flush for what it is, the twitch in his fingers, the slight tenting of his pants. It's the first omega they've had among them in years. In heat, probably decades, and Gunther's unmated, affected despite his preference for women, reacting to pull of someone so desperate for a fuck they'd open their legs and thank you for raping them.

"Stay here," Levi orders. "As much distance as you need but be ready."

"Sir," Gunther stops him, dropping his gaze when Levi raises an eyebrow, urging him to speak. "Uhh, are you sure, sir? You... you're an alpha, too. You might... It's intense."