It Started With Cadet Training (Reader/Levi/Erwin/Hange/Mike)

Waste Your Time

"Hit a tree," you grumble as you struggle out of your pants.

He sighs, leaning forwards and placing a hand on your jaw.

"(Y/N), I-" he whispers, brushing a tear from the corner of your eye.

"Come on you two, let's get you cleaned up before you bleed out," Levi grumbles, reaching up and dragging the two of you by the ear towards the shower.

"I can walk, Levi!" you protest as he drags you under the water where Hange and Erwin were arguing over what temperature to leave the shower at.

"Good, that means you can use your arms to wash the blood of yourself," he grumbles, reaching up for the shampoo on the ledge, only for a whimper to leave his lips. It's so quiet you almost miss it, yet your ears were tuned to watch for the small noises from him.

Carefully, you take the shampoo from the shelf, clicking open the top. He glares up at you, staring daggers at the bottle of shampoo.

"Stop being such a brat and let me wash your hair," you mutter, reaching out to squeeze shampoo on his head. He flinches at the contact, but doesn't pull away.

"You don't have to wash it for me, I can do it myself."

"I know, but I can get the back of your head better than you can right now, so just let me help... please?"

He opens his mouth to argue more, hesitating for a moment before closing it again. Satisfied, you start to run your fingers through his hair.

Levi stands there, staring at your chest as you carefully wash his hair out. The water's a murky brown for a while, soap suds flooding the drain as you rinse his hair out. It takes three times to rinse all the dirt from his hair, but eventually the water runs clear rather than dirty brown. He stands quietly the whole time, his eyes closed to keep soap from them.

There's a sense of domestic calmness that washes over you as he leans into your touch, patiently waiting as you wash through his hair, the dried blood draining away. It turns softer and softer in your hands as it comes out clean, reminding you slightly like a cat.

For a moment, you allow yourself to be lost in him, the way he's curled slightly, sheltering himself from the world rather than his usually confident demeanour. The way he looks so vulnerable, the desire in your chest to tilt his head up and kiss his lips. Then you catch yourself, putting a halt to your mind.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" you hum, rinsing off your hands so there wasn't soap left on them.

"It was... tolerable," he grumbles, staring down at the ground and avoiding your eyes.

"Oh come on shorty, don't lie we can all see you're blushing," Hange teases from next to him, jokingly nudging his shoulder with their elbow.

"Shut it foureyes!" he shouts, spinning to glare at them instead.

They simply chuckle and pat his head, offering to wash off his back for him. Your attention is drawn from the two of them by Erwin tapping your shoulder. Turning around you try and avoid staring at him like a teenager given their first pin-up poster, blush dusting your cheeks as you scold yourself for daring to look at your friend in such a manner.

"Want me to wash your hair?" he asks, drawing your attention so you stare up at him, noticing the small trickle of dried blood on the side of his face.

"Erwin, you're bleeding," you point out, reaching up to rest your hand on the side of his face. Blunt trauma to the side of his head, yet your hand comes back clean.

"I cleaned it, I'll fix it after we finish- turn around, I'll wash your hair," he orders- no, requests. You can deny him if you wanted, yet you find yourself turning around so that your back faces him.